The Maine Lady

People approaching Portland, Maine, from the Back Cove area in the late 1800s had to be dazzled by the sight, high on the hill, of the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception.

Soaring 204 feet into the sky, the structure's two asymmetrical spires were the tallest man-made features in the state's largest city. The great cathedral still draws drivers' glances as they jet along the Maine Turnpike.

Now on the National Register of Historic Places, the cathedral was built by Bishop David Bacon, first bishop of the new diocese. Judging by an 1870 photo I located after my visit, the brick French Gothic edifice hasn't changed much since its dedication in 1869. If anything, the quiet grandeur here seems only to have increased with age.

I was not surprised to learn that renowned church architect Patrick Charles Keely designed this cathedral. Some locals say Keely went to extra lengths in Portland because he knew Bishop Bacon well. That may well be: Years earlier, in Brooklyn, the priest had been the architect's pastor. In fact, he presided at Keely's wedding Mass.

In the interior, Keely's perfectly balanced lines have remained the architectural anchors for the series of renovations the cathedral has seen. For example, each side of the nave is graced by seven ribbed columns—adorned with simple gold dentil-capitals—and seven arches extending toward the sanctuary. Double- and triple-lancet windows echo the visual theme.

It wasn't until 1910 that most of the glorious stained-glass windows were installed in the lancets and in the clerestory. These masterpieces from Munich, designed by Franz Mayer, were well worth the wait. Each scene is a museum-like “mural” of New Testament and early-Church scenes come to life.

Mary's life is here composed in medieval settings resplendent in details and regal in hues of reds, blues and royal golds. Enclosed by jewel-like, stained-glass frames, they make Tiffany's look like child's play.

It was the Wedding at Cana and the Marriage of Mary and Joseph that earned my immediate attention. The elaborate Annunciation wasn't far behind. The scene brings to light the Holy Trinity—God the Father appears with arms out stretched and the Holy Spirit appears in the form of a dove before rays of light that travel directly to Mary's halo. The Virgin Mary is dressed in white and blue. Before her, the angel Gabriel arrives in bright green, red and gold apparel. Two more angels watch the event, their eyes reflecting joyful contemplation.

These wondrous stained-glass scenes seem so alive the way they combine human emotions with the heavenly mysteries. In the Crucifixion, for example, angels watch and weep while Mary Magdalene embraces the foot of the cross.

The cathedral's predominant cream paintwork from the 1999 restoration helps accentuate the windows. While the various multicolors and scrollwork that usually accompanied such architecture have long been replaced, the creams give an overall pristine, rather than sterile, look.

Another spiritual treasure of artistic significance are the Stations of the Cross. They're crafted of Venetian glass mosaics. Gold leaf increases their brilliance. These stations were installed in 1930 during the cathedral's 60th anniversary.

Less than a decade before, in the early 1920s, Immaculate Conception's baptismal font was installed. This alone is an exquisite work of art, a masterpiece of Renaissance proportions (13 feet high by 5 feet in diameter, to be precise). And rightly so, since the sacrament it supports is the portal to the faith.

‘I won't be able to be there Dec. 8, feast of the Immaculate Conception, but my memories surely will take me there—and, from there, upward.’

Throughout, in details too numerous to recount adequately here, the sanctuary is a beautiful blend of the old and the new. Carrara marble flooring arrived in the sanctuary during an extensive 1999 restoration to join the original marble-chip ambulatory flooring. Before that, renovations removed the high Gothic altar. The new altar has been crafted from the side altars at St. Dominic's Church, Portland's first Catholic church. It dates to 1830. The bishop's chair was once used by Bishop Bacon.

Magnificently Marian

The Carrara marble bas relief of the life of Christ that once graced the front of the high Gothic altar is now displayed at the back of the cathedral as a massive triptych about 10 feet long. The two Gothic and canopied side altars honoring Mary as the Immaculate Conception and St. Joseph are both flanked by two marble angels, again from the original high altar.

The artistry continues to venerate Mary in the wondrous Immaculate Conception window. The angels who accompany Our Lady are dressed richly for the occasion and seem to have arrived that minute from the heavenly court. Cherubs form a halo for her, too. In the Rose Window, Jesus is surrounded by the apostles.

Over the decades, the original organ played at the dedication has been rebuilt three times. The second-largest organ in Maine, this great instrument was one of the Henry Erben Company's world-famous works of art. It's similar to the organ in Old St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City. Because Bishop Bacon was from Brooklyn and surely knew that instrument, I'm guessing that's what prompted him to put Erben in charge of this pipe organ.

Bishop Healy's Home

In the vestibule there's a most handsome statue of Our Lord as a boy and a display on Bishop James Healy, who led the diocese as its second shepherd from 1875 to 1900. Appointed by Pope Pius IX, Bishop Healy became the first black Catholic bishop in the United States. He was born in Macon, Ga., the son of an Irish immigrant and a mulatto slave. Educated in Massachusetts and ordained in Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, he arrived when the Portland Diocese encompassed all of Maine and New Hampshire. This groundbreaking history comes alive looking over a few of his personal effects, such as his simple silver-and-gold chalice and the breviary he signed in 1898.

The cathedral's chapel, a small version of a Gothic cathedral used for daily Mass, also dates from 1869. Creams, dusty roses, white-marble Gothic altars and stained-glass windows in light greens give the chapel an airy, celestial aura. One canopied side altar enshrines a marble statue of Mary's heavenly lady-in-waiting, St. Thérèse. The other side altar reveres our Blessed Mother with a grotto shrine.

Downtown Portland and its harbor area are in the midst of a renaissance. But we found the most exciting revitalization at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception. I won't be able to be there Dec. 8, feast of the Immaculate Conception, but my memories surely will take me there—and, from there, upward.

Joseph Pronechen Writes From Trumbull, Connecticut.