Wrought iron has been in use for many centuries for hinges and other decorations on doors; a necessity to every building in a town from earliest times.  The word “hinge” comes from the Saxon, hengen, to hang.  Primitive hinges were sometimes sockets cut in stone, as at Torcello; but soon this was proved a clumsy and inconvenient method of hanging a door, and hinges more simple in one way, and yet more ornate, came into fashion.  Iron hinges were found most useful when they extended for some distance on to the door; this strengthened the door against the invasion of pirates, when the church was the natural citadel of refuge for the inhabitants of a town, and also held it firmly from warping.  At first single straps of iron were clamped on:  then the natural craving for beauty prevailed, and the hinges developed, flowering out into scrolls and leaves, and spreading all over the doors, as one sees them constantly in mediaeval examples.  The general scheme usually followed was a straight strap of iron flanked by two curving horns like a crescent, and this motive was elaborated until a positive lace of iron, often engraved or moulded, covered the surface of the door, as in the wonderful work of Biscornette at Notre Dame in Paris.

Biscornette was a very mysterious worker, and no one ever saw him constructing the hinges.  Reports went round that the devil was helping him, that he had sold his soul to the King of Darkness in order to enlist his assistance in his work; an instance of aesthetic altruism almost commendable in its exotic zeal.  Certain jealous artificers even went so far as to break off bits of the meandering iron, to test it, but with no result; they could not decide whether it was cast or wrought.  Later a legend grew up explaining the reason why the central door was not as ornate as the side doors:  the story was that the devil was unable to assist Biscornette on this door because it was the aperture through which the Host passed in processions.  It is more likely, however, that the doors were originally uniform, and that the iron was subsequently removed for some other reason.  The design is supposed to represent the Earthly Paradise.  Sauval says:  “The sculptured birds and ornaments are marvellous.  They are made of wrought iron, the invention of Biscornette and which died with him.  He worked the iron with an almost incredible industry, rendering it flexible and tractable, and gave it all the forms and scrolls he wished, with a ‘douceur et une gentillesse’ which surprised and astonished all the smiths.”  The iron master Gaegart broke off fragments of the iron, and no member of the craft has ever been able to state with certainty just how the work was accomplished.  Some think that it is cast, and then treated with the file; others say that it must have been executed by casting entire, with no soldering.  In any case, the secret will never be divulged, for no one was in the confidence of Biscornette.

Norman blacksmiths and workers in wrought iron were more plentiful than goldsmiths.  They had, in those warlike times, more call for arms and the massive products of the forge than for gaudy jewels and table appointments.  One of the doors of St. Alban’s Abbey displays the skill of Norman smiths dealing with this stalwart form of ornament.