HEN the art-loving tourist desirous of transporting himself into the realm of feeling evoked by medieval monuments visits Germany, he invariably sets forth for Nürnberg, oblivious

or

Yet to

unconscious of the fact that there are yet other towns in the empire in which the craftsmanship of the middle ages can also be studied. Some of these can even boast that they surpass this wondrous Gothic city in a superior development of a special artistic branch. This is notably the case with Ulm, which, in respect of wood-carving, may claim to stand first in all Germany. how many persons who are well acquainted with Adam Krafft and Peter Vischer, are the names of the Syrlins, father and son, "familiar as household words"? The mention of Ulm is far more likely to recall the incident of General Mack's inglorious capitulation, an act of cowardice that has made the surrender of the city a by-word for mockery. Lying somewhat aside of the tourist beat, this ancient, now rather sleepy, Imperial town is rarely visited by the traveller. Once, however, it was of the greatest commercial importance, and the proverb went :-" Ulmer Geld Regiert die Welt" (Ulm's money rules the world).

Situated in a wide, fertile plain upon the Danube, like all places along that river it shows evidences of Roman civilisation. In chronicles of the ninth century it is mentioned as a villa regia, and the origin of its name is explained as V.L.M., i.e. quintae legionis mensio. Like all small mediæval

republics, Ulm was pugnacious, and carried on feuds with its neighbours, whence the citizens learnt endurance and resistance, a circumstance which may account for the singularly virile expression stamped on the

art productions of this period, rather in contrast with the soft sentimentalism that made the Swabian school of poetry some centuries later a butt for that mocking will-o'-the-wisp of genius, Heinrich Heine. At no time rigidly in the power of the clergy, Ulm was one of the first cities openly to join the reformed cause, and there exists in the British Museum a quaint document in which the decision of the corporation to join the new doctrine is made known to the citizens. This circumstance exerted immense importance in Ulm's artistic life, and in no town can be more graphically learnt what possibilities and probabilities of humanistic and artistic development lay in the higher Humanism which culled the choicest fruits from all modes of thought, and which, attaining its bloom in the Italian Renaissance, was also being striven after by the Gothic movement, and would, but for Luther, have achieved its aim.

The outer aspect of Ulm is not specially impressive. The streets are narrow and not always picturesque, the brick of which its ancient, tall, gabled houses are built is rather grey in tone, and gives the city a sombre look. Nor does it seem specially prosperous. The introduction of machinery has interfered with its ancient trade of spinning, and of all its former specialties it only retains that in carved wooden pipe-heads of the huge type familiar in representations of the typical German, and known as "Ulm-heads."

Built in a kind of oval, the cathedral, the pride and glory of the town, rears its head high up from its midst. This edifice takes rank among the six finest Gothic minsters of Germany, and is, after Cologne, the largest. Originally three- now five-aisled, it is built without transepts or side chapels, with that simplicity of design which has peculiarly favoured its conversion into a Protestant

place of worship. Begun in 1737, it was reared by the guild of Freemasons who here carried out to its fullest development their peculiar geometrical system, founding the entire edifice upon a fundamental number, which, in this case was 10 with a mystic combination of 3. Thus there are ten pointed arches in the nave, ten windows in the fivesided apse, the tower, if it had been finished, would have been five times as high as it was broad, and so forth. Arithmetical proportion pervades all the architectural details, while again and again recurs the monogram of the lodge, A. T., signifying Tudela ædificata. The building, originally, after the fashion of many Gothic churches, blocked up by small houses, has now been freed from these (with the one exception of the sacristan's dwelling, which clings like a swallow's nest to the side of the main porch), and can be seen in its entirety from the lime-planted square wherein it stands. Its exterior, from the fact that it was never finished, is not specially impressive, and excepting always the western façade, looks heavy; an appearance enhanced by the fact that the long plain walls of the building are of nude brick which has never yet received its destined coating of stone. All the more, therefore, does the colossal tower with its rich decorative work contrast with the main pile. The whole building is now undergoing careful restoration, and it is hoped, if funds are forthcoming, that it, too, like Cologne, will be completed under the ægis of the German Empire,

From its commencement it enjoyed the distinction, of which the Ulmers are justly proud, of being one of the few cathedrals erected at the expense of the citizens only, without aid from abroad, papal indulgences, or remission of taxes. That the tower remained incomplete was not so much from lack of funds, as that, in 1492, the two piers that supported it showed signs of giving way, so that it was not judged safe to rear it higher. The names of the master-masons, in accordance with the rules of the guild, are not always preserved. One, however, was certainly Ulrich von Ensingen, whose crest and bust are to be seen within the tower and who afterwards worked on Milan Cathedral. Five entrances give admission into the church. As usual the chief portal is the most beautiful. It is somewhat peculiar in treatment, being inclosed, as at Noyon, in a narthex, which is supported without by two tall elegant pillars that lead to the two main doors of the porch. These pillars are intended to symbolise the brazen pillars, Jachin and Boaz, placed by Solomon before

his temple. One of them bears the figure of the naked Christ, showing to all who enter here the wounds He has endured for their sakes and salvation. There is a freedom of treatment in this statue, a search after dramatic effect, a correctness of body proportions, a fullness in the flesh handling, at that time too frequently a spare presentment of muscle, all pointing to an artist who must have seen Dürer's pictures, and have lived in an age when sculpture was liberating herself from architecture, and statues came to exist for their own sake. Unlike its neighbours it is hewn free in the stone, and was evidently modelled and blocked out elsewhere. Critics venture to think that we may here have another work from the hand of the younger Syrlin, but there is no positive evidence to be gained on the subject.

Flush with the main wall of the church uprises the tower, an elegant mass of late decorated Gothic, in which is carried out to greater completeness the idea developed by Master Erwin, at Strasbourg, of pilaster strips before the deeper lying windows, thus effectuating in the tower the idea started by the porch. In this tower, which is easily ascended and which commands an extensive view of the surrounding plains and the distant Swabian Alps, hang a large number of bells, all bearing names indicative of their purpose. Some have long been silent, among them one named the " Wine Bell" once rung nightly at ten o'clock for the purpose of fetching the male population home from the tavern. On the top is a quaint Latin inscription commemorating the foolhardiness of the Emperor Maximilian, a lover, it would seem, of foolhardy deeds-for Innsbruck has a cognate tale to tell-who, ascending this tower, in 1492, leaped upon the parapet, and balancing himself on one leg, swung round the other in mid-air; a truly royal form of recreation. In the tower, too, is kept a typical “Ulm-head,” the largest tobacco-pipe probably ever made, excepting always Her Majesty's in St. Katherine's Docks. Tradition telleth that a student from Tübingen once smoked it empty after a steady pull of nine hours. Tradition telleth not how the student felt afterwards. On the roof of the nave sits the image of a huge sparrow, known as the "Ulmer-Spatz," a figure that has sat here from time immemorial as a memento to the Ulmers of the stupidity of their forbears, who needed a bird to show them that a beam carried crosswise could not enter into a narrow gate.

Of the doors that conduct into the church the richest in point of decoration are those in the chief portal, with their niches for

involuntarily comic element, the Almighty sweeping away the rebellious angels with a schoolmaster's birch-rod. The birth of Christ is not represented as usual in a manger, but is a free and rather profane conception of a common burgher child-bed room. The artist here allowed himself much license. Thus the ox and the ass are introduced, but only to hold in their mouths the curtains of the bed, in which Mary lies comfortably ensconced, while Joseph is bearing across the chamber a basket of baby linen. Another door bears in its tympanum a representation of the Passion, yet another of the Last Judgment. Here Christ is depicted, drawn sword in hand, sitting upon the rainbow, a conception evidently borrowed from the defunct northern gods. As in all mediæval churches one door is decorated with the parable of the wise and foolish virgins. It was used for marriage parties, and was always known as the bride's door. A little street opposite the cathedral is still called Bride Lane. On all the doors, as everywhere inside and out of the cathedral, the use of plant ornamentation is predominant, and very elegantly and gracefully is it introduced.

The first aspect of the interior is impressive from its rhythmic dignity, and, notwithstanding its heavy style of building, it produces an effect of lightness and upstriving. Equally instantaneously, however, the eye is unfortunately impressed with the jejune and uglifying character German Protestantism always stamps upon its places of worship. Not only is its expression cold beyond words, but it seems so totally lacking in sense of harmony with the beauties that surround it, that the needful accessories of congregational worship are disposed in such a manner as positively to offend the eye, rudely breaking across symmetrical lines and disposed at luckless hap-hazard, with an indifference that savours of scornful disregard of beauty. The same unpleasant fact is observable at Nürnberg, and everywhere else in Germany, where Catholic buildings have been turned to Protestant use, so different from our English plan, where the newer worship has been grafted gently upon the older.

Entering by the main portal we come into a species of atrium, paved with red and white stones of Gothic design, while in the centre is a field representing the chief symbols of Gothic architecture, such as a tetragram, a pentagon, octagon, &c. Above this, in a gallery, stands the organ, an eyesore to the vision but a glory to the ear, being one among the many fine organs of the Continent. Three steps

lead up to the nave, whose dignified simplicity is striking and impressive. It is formed by twelve clustered columns bearing lancet pier-arches. There is no triforium. Of the rich painted glass that once filled the windows only the apse retains its treasure, and hence a keener illumination penetrates into the building than was intended by its architects. Once, too, the interior was entirely painted in polychrome. Great attention should be given to the consoles of the main pillars of the nave, which are among the chefs d'œuvre of German stone carving, with their rich fantastic compositions, all different in design, now shields and crests, now real and imaginary animals, now flowers and fruit. On these, no doubt, before the image destruction of 1532, stood statues, and doubtless too they were surmounted by canopies, probably of equal beauty. Opposite the pulpit they form two shields, one bearing the crest of the town, the other the oft-repeated monogram A. T. In the sixth column on the right a carved stone commemorates the foundation of the cathedral. It is a high relief representing a knight and his lady, possibly the original founders, between whom kneels a mason bent under the weight of the building he carries on his shoulder. A quaint old German inscription is cut beneath. It is worthy of notice that in this model the church has three towers, the citizens having planned thus to erect the pile, in the hope of elevating their cathedral to episcopal rank. The pulpit is the chief ornament of the nave. It was carved by Engelberger of Augsburg and five apprentices, and is a mass of the most delicate flower ornamentation, some of which, unhappily, has been sawn off, an old woman in mistaken zeal having left by will a piece of cloth to drape the pulpit. The canopy of limewood is one of the masterpieces of Syrlin the younger, a work of rich interlaced decorative carving of the highest beauty, and of great originality of design and treatment. To the Syrlins, too, the font is often attributed, a noble stone structure resting upon four lions, and surrounded by the busts of the eight Old Testament prophets. There is, however, a want of free handling in the plastic treatment that belies the popular attribution. The aisles are in no respect remarkable, but there are many curious crests of old Ulm families attached to the pillars worthy of study by the lovers of heraldry.

It is in the choir, however, that the glories of the place are concentrated. Raised a step above the nave, there stands in its centre what was once the choir altar, with a carved

shrine, forming a portion of the choir stalls, on whose reverse side, i.e. the side turned towards the eastern apse, is the richly carved bishop's chair, of which I shall speak anon, and of which we reproduce an engraving. At the end of the choir stands the high altar, bearing a somewhat clumsy tryptich of woodwork, whose wings are formed by excellent paintings from the hand of Martin Schaffner. From the brush of this same master is a vigorous portrait of the Burgomaster, Eitel Besser, which decorates the Besser chapel, and is a picture worthy to take rank beside the famous portrait of Burgomaster Holzchuber of Nürnberg, by Albert Dürer. In the sacristy stands a now discarded altar, far finer than the above, with an angular but pathetic representation of the Crucifixion in the centre panel, and fine paintings of the Passion on the doors.

The choir, as I said before, still retains its ancient jewelled windows. Two are especially fine, those presented in their day by the Municipality, and by the Drapers' Guild, in the middle of the fifteenth century. The latter window has the favourite device of a genealogical tree of the seed of Jesse, and is signed by its artist, Hans Wild. It is supposed that this is the same man who designed the glorious windows of the Nürnberg Lorenz Kirche, and that he was a native of Ulm; for Ulm in former days was known for its good glass painting, special schools existing for the cultivation of that lost art. At San Pietro, in Bologna, are shown to this day windows that were made for this church in Ulm.

On the left-hand side of the choir stands the Sacrament-house, or ciborium, which it is peculiar to German churches--or sometimes to the cognate Belgian of the same dateto have separated from the high altar, traditionally the spot in which the consecrated wafer was reserved. On these Sacrament-houses much loving labour was always expended. Those of Nürnberg and Ulm are the most elaborate works of their kind in stone. In size and height the canopy at Ulm exceeds that of Adam Krafft's masterpiece; in beauty it runs it very close. It owes its erection to the piety of an ancient dame, who dying, left two hundred guilders with a certain linen-weaver, directing that with this sum a Sacrament-house should be built to her memory. Now the linen-weaver "bold" was a sharp old party. He had no intention of defrauding Holy Church, yet it seemed to him this was a wanton waste of money that could be turned to more profitable account. Hence he traded in linen with the money

until he had so turned it over that, out of the interest of the capital, he was able to carry out the testator's wish. It is a favourite contention that our commercial morality is lower than that of our medieval forbears. This story would point to another conclusion. But perchance this story is not true. Let us hope so. It occurred so long ago. Anyway, what docs seem pretty certain is that, in 1469, the elder Syrlin was intrusted with the commission of erecting a ciborium, almost thirty years, therefore, before Krafft began to work at his chef d'œuvre.

The main idea of the composition of this Gothic pinnacle of filigree stone-work, is that of a winding staircase, ending at the height of ninety feet in a richly-decorated crocket. The whole treatment is so delicate that it seems difficult to grasp the fact that the material out of which this piece of lacelike fret-work is hewn is no other than common stone. If stone could be cast like bronze, we fancy it would look thus. Two flights of four steps conduct to the ciborium proper, which stands on a square gilt base, richly wrought and decorated. The supports of the stairs are formed by caryatides of the saints, St. Sebastian and St. Christopher carrying the infant Jesus on his shoulders. There are also eight excellently-preserved statues of Popes, Bishops and Abbots forming the banisters. On the side of the stair that comes nearest the sacred shrine, are carved an array of fantastic wild beasts, that seem set there to guard the holy treasure. Much weird humour and originality is displayed in the treatment of this farrago of dragons, lions, dogs, bears, angels and monks. The same mystical numerical arrangement that permeates the entire pile, finds expression in the Sacrament-house also. Thus, it begins with a square, changes into an octagon, resumes the square, and ends in a crossshaped finial. Not far from this spot is the chapel of the Neidhert family, the sharp linen-weaver above referred to.

But it is time I spoke of the glory of Ulm, its cathedral stalls, which are disposed on each side of the choir, before it curves into an apse. They display a wealth of luxuriant figure, flower and geometrical decoration that makes them difficult to describe. While so rich, however, no sense of overlading is ever for one moment produced. Indeed, so well is the decoration proportioned to the main idea, that at a first hurried glance it almost seems that we have to do with pure simplicity here. Two rows of sculptured busts decorate the wall backs of the seats, while one row adorns the