rbeck, wherein is an ideal portrait of the
"Great Unknown of Cologne" pictured as the genius of architecture.

A comparatively recent discovery seems to award the honour to Gerard de
St. Trond. A charter of 1257 makes mention of the fact that the chapter
of the cathedral had given a house, for services rendered, to one
Gerard, "a stone-cutter," who had directed the work of construction;
this gift being made some years after the foundations were first laid.

The same architect figures among the benefactors of the hospital of St.
Ursula as "the master of the works at the cathedral." Perhaps, then, the
name of Gerard de St. Trond deserves to be placed with that of
Libergier, the designer of Reims, the greatest Gothic splendour of
France.

Engelbert's successor, Conrad of Hochsteden, furthered the plans,
whoever may have been their creator, and work on the new edifice was
begun a few months after the destruction of the older one.

On August 14, 1248, the foundation-stone of the new structure was laid,
forty-four feet below the surface of the ground.

The portion first erected was the choir, and for ages it stood, as it
stands in its completed form to-day, as perfect an example of the style
of its period as is extant.

For seventy years this choir was taking form, until it was consecrated
on September 27, 1322.

The occasion was a great one for Cologne and for the church. The
ceremony was attended by much glitter and pomp, both ecclesiastical and
civil.

No sooner was the choir completed than it was embellished as befitted
the shrine of the three kings.

Coloured glass, stone, and wood-carving, and the art of the gold and
jewel smith all blended to give a magnificence to the whole which was
perhaps unapproachable elsewhere at the time.

Then, for a time, enthusiasm and labour languished. For nearly two
centuries the work was pursued by the prelates and architects in a most
desultory and intermittent fashion.

The choir had been completed, and to the westward considerable progress
had been made, but there was a gaunt ugly gap between. It would seem as
though there were no intention of ever joining the scattered parts,
which were linked only by the foundation-stones, for the nave and aisles
were left merely covered with temporary roofs.

Then the Reformation came, and that boded no good for the cathedral. The
people looked askance at the symbol of such great power in the hands of
Rome.

The seventeenth century