ve inside of three
years, and the monument again took on some of its ancient magnificence.
In 1198 Emperor Philip of Suabia, son of Frederick Barbarossa, was
solemnly crowned in this cathedral by the Archbishop of Tarentaise, the
Archbishop of Mayence being at that time in the Holy Land.

The twelfth-century work doubtless was erected on the foundations of
Archbishop Bardon's structure.

The restoration of the transept and the western choir followed, and the
work went on more or less intermittently until the middle of the
thirteenth century, when the fabric approached somewhat the appearance
that it has to-day.

The completed structure was consecrated in 1239, and, save the chapels
of the late thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the body of the edifice
has not greatly changed since that time.

During the Thirty Years' War it became practically a ruin, however,
though its later rebuilding was on the original lines.

In 1793 the revolution which sprang up in France forced its way to the
Rhine, and, when Mayence was besieged, the roof of the cathedral caught
fire and the church itself was pillaged and profaned.

For a long time the old cathedral remained abandoned, as after an
invasion of barbarians, which is about what the revolutionists proved
themselves to be. In 1803 Napoleon saw fit to order it to be restored,
and in the following year it was returned to its adherents.

The ancient metropolis, however, lost the distinction which had been
given to it in Roman times, and the glory first brought upon it by St.
Boniface lapsed when the arch-episcopal see was suppressed. Mayence is
now merely a bishopric, a suffragan of Cologne.

In its general plan the cathedral at Mayence follows the outlines of a
Latin cross, though its length is scarcely more than double its width.

It is most singular in outline and has two choirs, one at either end, as
is a frequent German custom, and the sky-line is curiously broken by the
six towers which pierce the air, no two at the same elevation.

There are three portals which give entrance from various directions.
There is yet a fourth entrance from the market-place, which takes one
through a sort of cellar which is not in the least churchly and is
decidedly unpleasant.

The principal nave is supported by nine squared pillars, which are
hardly beautiful in themselves, but which are doubtless necessary
because of the great weight they have to bear.

In the Gothic choir is a heavy