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                               LECTURES

                                  ON

                       THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT

                                  OF

                         MEDIÆVAL ARCHITECTURE

                            [Illustration:

                                J. LEI

           DESIGN SUBMITTED FOR THE NEW LAW COURTS, LONDON.

                             CENTRAL HALL.

                SIR GEO. GILBERT SCOTT R.A., ARCHITECT]




                               LECTURES

                                ON THE

                         RISE AND DEVELOPMENT

                                  OF

                         Mediæval Architecture


                    Delivered at the Royal Academy


                      BY SIR GILBERT SCOTT, R.A.,
                          F.S.A., LL.D., ETC.


                       IN TWO VOLUMES--VOL. II.

                          WITH ILLUSTRATIONS


                                LONDON
                     JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
                                 1879


                _The right of Translation is reserved._


               _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.




CONTENTS.

VOL. II.


LECTURE X.

Early Architecture in Great Britain.

Review of the developments in the early Architecture of our own
land--Recent research in Central Syria--Examples in Northern
Europe previous to the eleventh century--Early remains in
Scotland and Ireland--Anglo-Saxon Architecture--Churches founded
by St. Augustine--Canterbury and York--Churches at Hexham and
Ripon--Ramsey Abbey--Winchester Cathedral--Destruction of
Churches by Sweyn--Restoration and building by Canute--Roman
models--Characteristics of Anglo-Saxon work--Brixworth Church,
Northamptonshire Church on the Castlehill, Dover--Worth Church,
Sussex--Bradford Church, Wilts--Chancel of Saxon Church at
Jarrow-on-the-Tyne--Churches of Monk Wearmouth and Stow--Crypts at
Wing, Repton, and Lastingham--Towers of St. Benet’s, Cambridge: Trinity
Church, Colchester: Earls Barton: Barnach: Barton-on-Humber--Sompting,
Sussex: and Clapham, Bedfordshire--Chapel at Greensted,
Essex--Classification into periods of this form of Architecture   Page 1


LECTURE XI.

Early Architecture in Great Britain--_continued_.

Architecture of the Normans--St. Stephen’s at Caen--Canterbury
Cathedral modelled on that of St. Stephen’s--Description of the
Norman church built by the Confessor at Westminster _before the
Conquest_--Instances of Anglo-Saxon architecture being used _after
the Conquest_--Characteristics of the Norman style--Varieties of
combination--Doors, windows, archways, arcades, and vaulting--Minor
details--Mechanical ideal of a great Norman church--Vast scale and
number of works undertaken by the early Norman builders          Page 60


LECTURE XII.

Early Architecture in Great Britain--_continued_.

Chapel of St. John, Tower of London--St. Alban’s Abbey--St.
Stephen’s at Caen--Cathedrals of Winchester, Ely, London, Rochester,
and Norwich--Abbey Church at Bury St. Edmund’s--Gloucester
Cathedral--Tewkesbury Abbey--Cathedrals of Worcester and
Durham--Waltham Abbey--Christchurch, Hants                       Page 92


LECTURE XIII.

The Practical and Artistic Principles of Early Architecture in Great
Britain.

The close of the eleventh century--The “new manner of
building”--Conditions necessary to an _arcuated_, as distinguished
from a _trabeated_, style--First principles of Grecian and
Roman architecture--Rationale of the _arcuated_ style--Its
developments--Cloisters of St. Paul without the Walls and St.
John Lateran, Rome--Doorways--Windows--Vaulting over spaces
enclosed by walls or ranges of piers--Simplest elements
defined--Barrel-vaults--Hemispherical vaults or _domes_--Groined
vaults                                                          Page 133


LECTURE XIV.

The Principles of Vaulting.

Vaulting of spaces of other forms than the mere square--Apsidal
aisles, St. John’s Chapel, Tower, and St. Bartholomew’s Church,
Smithfield--Chapter-house and crypt, Worcester--Round-arched vaulting
in its most normal form, as resulting from the _barrel_ vault and
its intersections--Short digression on another simple form of vault,
the _dome_--“Domed up” vaults--“Welsh” groining--The square or
polygonal dome--The Round-arched style of the twelfth century almost
perfect--First introduction of the Pointed arch into vaulting--Names
of the parts of groined vaulting--Two specimens in London of the
apsidal aisle, one in the Round-arched, the other in the Pointed-arched
style--Vaulting a polygon with a central pillar--_Ploughshare_
vaulting--The artistic sentiment and character of early Gothic
vaulting                                                        Page 161


LECTURE XV.

The Principles of Vaulting--_continued_.

Certain practical points concerning vaulting--Ribs of early and late
vaulting--Filling in of intermediate surfaces or cells--Methods
adopted in France and England--Sexpartite vaulting--Crypt of Glasgow
Cathedral--Choir at Lincoln--Chapter-house, Lichfield--Caudebec,
Normandy--Octagonal kitchen of the Monastery, Durham--Lady
Chapel, Salisbury--Segmental vaulting--Temple Church--Lady
Chapel, St. Saviour’s, Southwark--Westminster Abbey--Intermediate
ribs--Presbytery at Ely--Chapter-houses of Chester and Wells--Exeter
Cathedral--Cloisters, Westminster--“Liernes”--Ely Cathedral--Chancel,
Nantwich Church--Crosby Hall and Eltham Palace--Choir at
Gloucester--Winchester Cathedral--Fan-vaulting--Cloisters at
Gloucester--King’s College Chapel, Cambridge--Divinity Schools,
Oxford--Roof of Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster--Ideal of its
_design_                                                        Page 190


LECTURE XVI.

The Dome.

Non-existence of the Dome in our old English architecture--Highly
developed forms in France, Germany, and Italy, contemporary with
our great Mediæval edifices--Suggestions for its introduction
into our revived and redeveloped Neo-mediæval style--So-called
Tomb of Agamemnon at Mycenæ--The Pantheon--Temple of Minerva
Medica--Torre dei Schiavi--Temples of Vesta at Rome and Tivoli--Temple
of Jupiter in Diocletian’s Palace, Spalatro--Tomb of St.
Constantia--Baptistery at Nocera--Baptistery at Ravenna--Important
domical development--“Pendentive Domes”--Early specimens--Pendentive
domes the special characteristic of the Byzantine style--How
this originated--Further domical developments--Cathedral at
Florence--Churches of SS. Sergius and Bacchus, the Apostles, and St.
Sophia, Constantinople                                          Page 228


LECTURE XVII.

The Dome--_continued_.

St. Irene, Constantinople--Church of San Vitale, the type, three
centuries later, of Charlemagne’s Church at Aix-la-Chapelle--Two
influences at work leading to the introduction and adoption
of the dome into Italy--From thence into the south-west of
France--Baptisteries at Florence and Parma--Cathedral at
Sienna--St. Mark’s, Venice--Santa Fosca near Venice--Domes
having _pointed_ arches for their support--St. Front and La
Cité, Perigueux--Angoulême--Fontevrault--Auvergne--Ainay near
Lyons--Pendentives in many French churches give place to corbels--The
_modern_ type of dome--Cathedral at Florence--St. Peter’s, Rome, and
St. Paul’s, London                                              Page 255


LECTURE XVIII.

Architectural Art in reference to the Past, the Present, and the
Future.

Sculpture and Painting arise directly from artistic aspirations,
Architecture from practical necessities beautified--Architecture,
as distinguished from mere building, is the _decoration of
construction_--The History of Architecture has never been viewed
as an object of study previous to our own day--Phases of the
study--Dangers to be avoided--History of Architecture is the history
of civilisation--Western distinct from Eastern civilisation, and to
be studied separately--Source of our branch--Its development and
progressive stages--The Gothic Renaissance--Advice to the architectural
student                                                         Page 290




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CONTAINED IN VOL. II.


FIG.
     Design for the Central Hall, New Law Courts, London    _Frontispiece._
                                                                     PAGE
193. Stone House, Arran                                               16
194. Oratory of St. Gallerus                                          16
195. Teampull Sula Sgeir, Scotland. Elevation and Plan                17
196. Teampull Rona, Scotland. Interior and Plan                       17
197. Teampull Beaunachadh, Scotland. East and West Ends               17
198. Teampull Caeunanach, Ireland                                     18
199. Leather Book-case                                                21
200. Timahoe, Window from                                             22
201. Chapel of St. Cormac at Cashel. Exterior                         23
202.           Do.            do.    Interior                         23
203. Church of St. Regulus, St. Andrews, North and East Elevations    24
204.           Do.               do.     Plan                         24
205.           Do.               do.     Details                      25
206. Brixworth Church, Northamptonshire. Plan and General View        39
207.        Do.             do.          Sections across Nave         41
208. Church on the Castle-hill, Dover. Plan                           41
209.           Do.               do.   View from the South-west       42
210.           Do.               do.   Section of Window Jambs,
      showing Wood frames for the Glass                               43
211. Church on the Castle-hill, Dover. Upper Western Door             43
212.           Do.               do.   Eastern Tower Arch             43
213.           Do.               do.   Saxon Balusters                43
214. Worth Church, Sussex.    General View                            44
215.     Do.         do.      Plan                                    44
216.     Do.         do.      Transept Arch                           44
217.     Do.         do.      Chancel Arch                            44
218. Bradford, Wilts. Church at. Plan and East end                    46
219.   Do.              do.    South Elevation,
      North Door and Porch                                            46
220. Jarrow-on-the-Tyne, Church at. Baluster Columns                  48
221. Monk Wearmouth, Church at. Western Entrance                      49
222. Repton Church, Derbyshire. View of Crypt                         51
223.     Do.           do.      Plan of Crypt                         51
224. St. Benet’s, Cambridge.         Tower                            52
225. Trinity Church, Colchester.       Do.                            53
226. Earls Barton, Northamptonshire.   Do.                            54
227. Barton-upon-Humber, Lincolnshire. Do. and Western Porch          54
228. Barnach, Northamptonshire.        Do.                            55
229. Sompting, Sussex.                 Do.                            56
230. Chapel at Greensted, Essex.   View                               57
231.         Do.            do.    Plan                               57
232. Saxon Door Jamb.                         Diagrams                76
233. Norman Door Jamb and Arch.                 Do.                   76
234. Jambs of Doorways.                         Do.                   78
235. Groined or Intersecting Vaulting.          Do.                   79
236.             Do.                            Do.                   79
237. Anglo-Saxon mouldings.                     Do.                   84
238. Norman mouldings.                          Do.                   84
239.      Do.          development of           Do.                   84
240. With reference to the Capital.             Do.                   85
241. Mechanical Ideal of a great Norman Church. Do.                   88
242. St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London. Plan                         92
243.          Do.             do.        View looking East            93
244.          Do.             do.        View of South Aisle          94
245-247.      Do.             do.        Capitals                     95
248. St. Stephen’s, Caen.  Capitals from                              96
249. Lincoln Cathedral.        Do.                                    97
250. St. Stephen’s, Caen.  Plan                                       98
251. St. Alban’s Cathedral.  Do.                                      99
252.         Do.             View of, at the close of the
      11th Century                                                   100
253.         Do.             Sectional view of Nave                  101
254.         Do.             Balusters                               102
255.         Do.             Belfry stage of Tower                   103
256. Winchester Cathedral.     Plan of Transept Piers                105
257.       Do.                 View of the Crypt                     108
258.       Do.                 The Nave                              109
259. Ely Cathedral.  Abbot Symeon’s Plan                             110
260-261.    Do.      Transept Piers                                  111
262-263.    Do.      Nave Piers                                      112
264. Norwich Cathedral.  Plan                                        117
265.       Do.           View of Part of Nave                        119
266. Abbey Church, Bury St. Edmund’s.  Plan                          120
267. Gloucester Cathedral.  View of the Crypt                        121
268. Waltham Abbey.  Nave Piers                                      125
269. Durham Cathedral.  Plan                                      To face_ 127
270.      Do.           View of part of Nave                       “  129
271.      Do.           Nave Piers                                   128
272.      Do.           Gabled roofing to the Aisles                 129
273. Christchurch, Hants.  Stair-turret, North Transept              131
274-285. Development of an arcuated style.  Diagrams                 139-142
286. Canterbury Cathedral.  Capital from the Crypt                   142
287. Ely Cathedral.  Capital from                                    143
288-293. Development of Piers and Jambs.  Diagrams                   143-144
294. St. Paul without the Walls, Rome.  Cloisters of                 145
295-308. Development of Piers.  Diagrams                             146-148
309-311.     Do.        Jambs.     Do.                               150
312. St. Leonard’s Priory, Stamford.  Part of Western Entrance       151
313-318. Diagrams explanatory of Groined or Intersecting Vaulting    153-157
319. Church of the Holy Trinity at Caen. View of the Crypt           157
320. Canterbury Cathedral.  View of Crypt                            158
321. Durham Cathedral.  View of Crypt                                159
322-326. Developments in the system of Vaulting.  Diagrams           162-164
327. St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London.   Apsidal Aisles of         165
328. St. Bartholemew’s Church, Smithfield.      Do.                  165
329.             Do.              do.      Plan of Apse              165
330. Worcester Cathedral.  Chapter-house                             167
331.          Do.         Plan of Crypt                              167
332.          Do.         View of Crypt                              168
333-348. Vaulting by means of the Dome.  Diagrams                    169-175
349. Diagram explanatory of the various parts of a Groined
       compartment                                                   182
350. Westminster Abbey.  Vaulting of Aisle round Apse                184
351-352. Vaulting a Polygon with a Central Pillar. Diagrams          184
353. Westminster Abbey, Chapter-house.  View of                  _To face_ 185
354. Vaulting with _Raised_ Ridges.  Diagram                         186
355. St. Saviour’s, Southwark.  Vaulting of Cells adjoining the
        Clerestory                                                   187
356-372. Ribs, Filling-in and various forms of Vaulting.  Diagrams   191-198
373. York Cathedral, Chapter-house.  Plan and view of Vaulting       199
374. Glasgow Cathedral. Plan of Vaulting of the Crypt under the Choir  200
375-378. Plans of Vaulting of the Choir, Lincoln; Chapter-house,
        Lichfield; Kitchen of the Monastery, Durham; and the
        Lady Chapel, Southwark                                       202-205
379. Westminster Abbey.  St Faith’s Chapel.  View looking East       206
380.        Do.                 do.               do.     West   _To face_ 207
381-383. Intermediate Ribs in Vaulting.  Diagrams                    208-209
384. Westminster Abbey.  Vaulting West of the Crossing               209
385. Chester Cathedral.  Chapter-house                               210
386. Crosby Hall, London.  Plan and View of lierne vaulting to Oriel  214
387. Eltham Palace, Kent.  Plan and View of lierne vaulting to Oriel  215
388. Gloucester Cathedral.  Plan of Choir Vaulting                   215
389-390. _Fan_ Vaulting.  Diagrams                                   218
391. King’s College, Cambridge.  Plan of Vaulting                    219
392. Gloucester Cathedral.  View of Cloisters                        220
393. Christ Church, Oxford.  View of Staircase Ceiling               221
394.     Do.          do.    Plan            do.                     221
395-397. Henry VII.’s  Chapel, Westminster Abbey.  Plans and
        Views of the Vaulting                                        223-224
398. Divinity Schools, Oxford.  View of Fan-Vaulting                 225
399. Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey.  Plan of Vaulting of Apse  226
400. Pantheon, Rome.  Plan                                           231
401.    Do.      do.  Half Elevation and Half Section of Exterior
      and Interior                                                   232
402. Temple of Minerva Medica.  Plan and Section                     235
403.   Do.     Jupiter, in Diocletian’s Palace at Spalatro           236
404. Tomb of St. Constantia, Rome.  Plan                             237
405. Baptistery at Ravenna.  Plan and Section                        239
406-411. Domical Developments.  Diagrams                             240-242
412. Tomb in the Via Nomentana, Rome.  Section                       243
413. Double Gate, Temple Area at Jerusalem.  View of                 243
414-419. Pendentive Domes.  Diagrams                                 244-247
420. SS. Sergius and Bacchus, Constantinople.  Plan                  248
421.             Do.              do.          Section               248
422-423. Ideal of the Plans of the Church of the Apostles and of St.
Sophia, Constantinople.  Diagrams                                    250
424. St. Sophia, Constantinople.  Plan                               251
425.     Do.          do.         Longitudinal Section           _To face_ 252
426. St. Irene,       do.         Section                            256
427. St Sophia,       do.           do.                              256
428. Church of the Holy Theotokos.  Plan                             257
429.             Do.                Section                          257
430. St. Nicodemus, Athens.  Plan and Section                        258
431. St. Vitale, Ravenna.  Plan                                      259
432.         Do.           Section                                   259
433. Church at Aix-la-Chapelle.  Plan and Section                    260
434. Baptistery at Florence.  Plan                                   261
435.   Do.           do.     Section                                 262
436.   Do.      at Parma.    Plan                                    263
437.   Do.         do.       Section                                 263
438. Cathedral at Sienna.  Plan                                      264
439. St. Mark’s, Venice.    Do.                                      265
440.       Do.             Cross Section                             266
441.       Do.             Longitudinal Section                      267
442. Santa Fosca, Torcello.  Plan                                    268
443. St. Front, Perigueux.   Do.                                     271
444.     Do.         do.     Section                                 272
445.     Do.         do.     Interior View of                        272
446. La Cité, Perigueux.          Do.                                273
447. Church at Angoulême.  Plan                                      274
448.    Do.    Interior View of                                      274
449. Church at Fontevrault.  Plan                                    275
450. Nôtre Dame du Pont, Clermont.  Interior View                    276
451. Cathedral at Florence.  Plan and Section                        279
452. St. Peter’s, Rome.  Section looking North                   _To face_ 281
453. St. Paul’s, London.    Half Elevation and Half Section
       looking East                                              _To face_ 283
454. St. Paul’s, London.  Ground Plan                                286
455. St. Peter’s, Rome.       Do.                                _To face_ 286
456. Design for the Central Dome, Houses of Parliament, Berlin   _To face_ 289




LECTURE X.

Early Architecture in Great Britain

     Review of the developments in the early Architecture of our own
     land--Recent research in Central Syria--Examples in Northern Europe
     previous to the eleventh century--Early remains in Scotland and
     Ireland--Anglo-Saxon Architecture--Churches founded by St.
     Augustine--Canterbury and York--Churches at Hexham and
     Ripon--Ramsey Abbey--Winchester Cathedral--Destruction of Churches
     by Sweyn--Restoration and building by Canute--Roman
     models--Characteristics of Anglo-Saxon work--Brixworth Church,
     Northamptonshire Church on the Castlehill, Dover--Worth Church,
     Sussex--Bradford Church, Wilts--Chancel of Saxon Church at
     Jarrow-on-the-Tyne--Churches of Monk Wearmouth and Stow--Crypts at
     Wing, Repton, and Lastingham--Towers of St. Benet’s, Cambridge:
     Trinity Church, Colchester: Earls Barton: Barnach:
     Barton-on-Humber: Sompting, Sussex: and Clapham,
     Bedfordshire--Chapel at Greensted, Essex--Classification into
     periods of this form of Architecture.


In commencing a series of lectures in my capacity as the official
occupant of this professorial chair, I feel in some degree shackled by
the circumstance that, though the _office_ is new to me, its _duties_
(so far as the lectures go) are not so: inasmuch as, during the latter
years of the tenure of this office by our venerated Professor Cockerell,
I was, in conjunction with Mr. Smirke, called upon to occupy the place
from which ill-health and infirmity compelled him to be absent; and at a
later time I have done the same for my immediate predecessor, Mr.
Smirke, when circumstances interfered, for one season, with his
lectures. I have, consequently, already given nine lectures from this
chair without being its rightful occupant; and, now that I commence
officially, I find the novelty of anything I might have had to say in a
great degree worn off by anticipation. I have consequently been puzzled
whether to begin afresh or to go on from the point I had reached. The
former would, perhaps, be the most correct course; but, after long
uncertainty, I feel it to be too artificial to sever what I said out of
office from what I have to say in office, and I have determined to link
my future lectures on to those which have preceded them. I shall also
for the present limit myself to Mediæval architecture as the subject on
which I have been engaged.

In my previous lectures I have given an outline of the development of
Pointed architecture from the preceding round-arched style, and followed
on with some practical suggestions as to the study of these phases of
architecture. In them I have treated equally of foreign and English
buildings, or have, perhaps, dwelt more at length on the former, and
have carefully traced the connection of English with French architecture
as they grew up, side by side, from the common germ, each to its
glorious perfection.

I purpose now to fall back upon the commencement of this series of
developments, and, while I go more in detail into the varied features of
the architecture of these periods, to limit myself, during the present
session at least, very much to its English productions.

My reason for this is, that we have of late been directing our attention
too exclusively to foreign buildings, greatly to the neglect of our
own,--so much so, that many of our architectural students seem to be as
little acquainted with the Mediæval works of their own country as if
they were brought up in Italy or France.

I hold the study of the contemporary buildings of neighbouring
countries, especially those of France, to be essential to the due
understanding of our own, and of the style _as a whole_; but this
affords no excuse for the neglect of English architecture, to which,
beyond all question, we are bound, as English architects, to direct our
primary attention, and which will repay our study by a series of special
beauties of its own, which have of late years been almost wholly
overlooked.

In reviewing the changes in the architecture of our own country, it may
be wholesome to begin early:--to “look at the rock whence we were hewn,
and to the hole of the pit whence we were digged.” A retrospect such as
this gives rise to some curious reflections. At one time we feel
perplexed by the depth of antiquity into which we are directing our
view, and at another with the very reverse of this. When we go beyond
the Norman Conquest,--beyond the destructive ravages of the
Danes,--through the half-mythic times of the Heptarchy and the heroic
age of the Pagan Saxons; and, again, beyond the destruction of the Roman
arts; through the mystic and hazy age which intervened between the
withdrawal of the Roman and the conquest by the Saxon; again, through
the four centuries of Roman domination into the unknown abyss of
prehistoric Britain, what a vast lapse of time does it represent! Yet
the earliest period we thus reach is, nevertheless, some four centuries
subsequent to the close of the Old Testament history and the period of
Pericles and Phidias, and perhaps fifteen centuries subsequent to many
of the great monuments of Egypt!

Archaic art seems to have the power of reproducing itself; and even the
ages of heroic and barbaric myth may re-occur after periods in which
society and civilisation may appear to have worn themselves out by
over-refinement; and thus, when we attempt to trace out the early
Christian architectural arts of the nations of Northern Europe, we find
ourselves as much in the mist of antiquity as if we were prying into
that which preceded the Pyramids or the earliest palace of Nimroud,
though we are in reality examining works subsequent to the time when the
empire of Rome fell to pieces from sheer old age.

In taking an enlarged view of Mediæval architecture, we must view it in
two distinct but at the same time united aspects; we must view it as the
architecture indigenous to the modern as distinguished from the ancient
civilisation; but we must also view it as having been developed upon an
antique nucleus.

There are also two other separate, though united, views which we ought
to take of it. We should view it, on the one hand, as the work of men
elaborating, as from the beginning, a new system of art on the mere
reminiscences of an old and defunct system,--_absolutely_ defunct as
relates to the northern races,--but we should view it also as, all the
while, aided by the yet living art of the Eastern Empire and by the
smouldering embers of that of Rome itself.

In some districts there may have been a tradition remaining of some old
method of building which had prevailed among the Pagan, Celtic, or
Teutonic tribes; but the germ may generally be said to have been Roman
or Byzantine, founded on reminiscences, and aided, from time to time, by
direct communication.

The two great divisions of Mediæval architecture are, _firstly_, that
which preceded, and, _secondly_, that which followed the great
transition of the latter half of the twelfth century. The whole may be
viewed as the one great development of arcuated construction into a
style of art, and its two great divisions are the round-arched and the
pointed-arched styles.

It is my purpose during the present session to limit myself very much to
the former; but viewing it, not only in its own bearings, but also as
the precursor of the latter. Though I intend to choose my illustrations
almost wholly from buildings in our own country, it would be taking a
very narrow view of our subject if we were to consider the great
round-arched style otherwise than as a whole, and our own portion of it
other than as a branch of that mighty bifurcated tree whose boughs,
whether growing from its eastern or its western stem, spread themselves
over the whole civilised world.

It has been well remarked, by Mr. Freeman, in his _History of
Architecture_, that the ancient Roman manner of building was essentially
an _arcuated_ style, though its true character was artificially overlaid
by the features belonging to the purely _trabeated_ style of Greece; and
that the whole course of change through which it, in after ages, passed,
may be described as the gradual throwing off the trabeated overlayings
and the perfecting into an architectural style its vital germ,--the
_arcuated system_.

This process was carried on equally in the East as in the West, though
under circumstances accidentally differing. The two great metropolises
of the Christian Roman empire, commencing with the same architecture,
gradually changed it into two distinct branches, though clearly
belonging to the same great trunk. In _both_ the changes or developments
took for their starting-point the architecture, not of Greece, but of
Rome. In the West, they continued to follow the natural suggestions of
that style, influenced deeply by the changed religion, and subsequently
curbed and held down, first by the removal of the seat of government to
Constantinople, and then by the continuous waves of the northern
invaders who gradually brought down to a very low ebb the civilisation
and arts of the Western empire.

In the East, the influence of the Christian worship was at least equally
deep; while the presence of the imperial court and government offered
greater advantages to development, and the accidental preference for
_domed_ construction gradually gave a wholly new tone to the general
character of the architecture, while the proximity of ancient Greek
remains had a very strong influence on the ornamentation.

Different, however, as is the general aspect of a Byzantine and
Romanesque building,--especially when the former assumes its crowning
feature, the dome,--it cannot be denied that they are, nevertheless, the
same style in two phases; and that there is no such contradiction
between them as to forbid their amalgamation to any extent. In proof of
this, we have the not incongruous character of the Crusaders’ buildings
in the East, in which the dome was not forbidden; the similarity to
Romanesque of such of the Byzantine buildings as do not happen to have
domes; the introduction into France of the domed architecture by a
colony of Greeks; the admission of much that is Byzantine into the
Romanesque buildings of Germany; and finally, the very extensive use of
purely Byzantine foliage and other forms of ornamentation into the
buildings of Western Europe in the twelfth century. This last-named
circumstance I have dwelt upon at length in one of my former lectures,
and I shall, no doubt, have frequent occasions again to allude to it.
The fact is, that the ornamentation of the later examples of the
Romanesque style is for the most part rather Byzantine than Roman in its
origin: even the acanthus-leaves in the capitals and cornices more
resembling those of the monument of Lysicrates than those of any Roman
building; while the surface ornaments--so profusely used--are often
traceable to the patterns of the various manufactures of the East, so
largely imported into Western Europe.

Much light has recently been thrown upon the Byzantine style, especially
in respect of its secular productions, through the discovery by the
Count de Vogüé of a vast number of ruined towns in the mountains of
Central Syria, which have remained almost untouched (except by time and
earthquakes) just as they were deserted in the seventh century on the
approach of the first Mahometan invaders. These remarkable remains give
us the connecting link between Classic and Mediæval art, though greatly
influenced by the traditional mode of building belonging to Syria. It is
a subject which would need a separate lecture to deal with it as it
deserves, and I only mention it here for the sake of saying that the
carved ornamentation of these remarkable buildings is Greek in its
feeling,[1] and not Roman, and that it is evidently allied to that
imported at a much later period into Western Europe; and which
especially characterises the buildings of the twelfth century in France,
and (though less constantly) in England; all tending to establish the
essential unity of the round-arched architecture of the early Middle
Ages, and the fact that the East and the West were much more united in
artistic affinity than has generally been admitted.

My main object at the present time is to trace the history, and
investigate the character of those branches of this great round-arched
style which have developed themselves in our own country: and my purpose
in the foregoing remarks has been to lead you to view our own
architecture, not as an essentially separate style, but as a part of
that which pervaded Christian Europe, and extended till the Mahometan
invasion, far both into Asia and Africa, which was the nucleus even of
the Mahometan styles, and which in Sicily (as in the Holy Land and in
Spain) again met and coalesced with its infidel offshoot, and produced
by this reunion the noble architecture of Palermo, and other cities of
Northern Sicily.

Among all the races of Northern Europe, who were either conquered by
Rome, or aided in the overthrow of her empire, I do not know that any
has left a vestige of what may be viewed as indicating, in any
intelligible manner, the previous existence among them of a distinctive
style of architecture. Stonehenge and the cromlechs can hardly be viewed
as exceptions; and, when the Angles and Saxons invaded Britain, they
found, so far as we know, no architecture but the Roman, nor brought
with them any of their own; while, to make matters worse, they seem to
have devoted themselves to the destruction of what they found.

What was the character of their buildings while they continued Pagan, we
have no means of judging. We have proofs that timber was their most
customary material, though it would be unreasonable to suppose that they
were unable to build in stone. It is likely enough that their houses
were generally of wood, for such was the case throughout the Middle
Ages, and continues to be so to this day, where timber is abundant. Many
of the churches afterwards were of the same material; but such also has
at all periods been the case when dictated by local circumstances, and
is still frequent in our colonies, so that it is insufficient to
disprove the contemporary use of stone.

There is a curious parallelism in this respect between the buildings of
ancient Greece, of Etruria, and of England. In Greece we find clear
proofs of the architectural style having been founded on timber
construction, though the Cyclopean walls, etc., of the primæval cities
(whether the works of the same or a different race) forbid the thought
that the use of stone was ever unknown. In Etruria we find no less
gigantic walls, though we learn from Vitruvius that timber entered
largely even into the construction of their temples, and suggested the
peculiarities of the Tuscan order. If, then, in Saxon England we find
the words “_to build_” to be derived from _timber_;--if we learn from
early writers that the majority of their buildings were of wood; and if
we find in their stone buildings indications of their imitating the
construction of timber framing, we need no more conclude that our
forefathers were ignorant of stone building, where it was needful, than
that the early Greeks or Etrurians used timber from ignorance of the use
of stone.

They were colonists, though conquerors. They were, no doubt, but very
partially civilised; and, settling down as strangers in a country from
which they had driven out the old inhabitants, and whose towns they had
in great measure destroyed, they were likely (as colonists do in our own
day) to make the largest use of the material most ready to their hand,
and to defer to more settled times the use of a more permanent manner of
building.

The paucity of remains of buildings of the period between the
dissolution of the Roman Empire in the West and the eleventh century, is
by no means peculiar to our own country. Throughout Northern Europe the
same fact prevails. The earlier waves of northern invaders were absorbed
in the old civilisation, but each successive wave made a deeper and a
deeper inroad into the remaining arts of the old world. It was natural
then, that, on the return of art and civilisation, the works of this
dark period should be deemed unworthy of preservation, and were replaced
by new erections. In our own country the Romans had not been overcome,
but had simply withdrawn, so that the dissolution of art was a more
rapid work than in most other parts of the old empire, while the early
efforts of the Saxons were over and over again destroyed by the yet
uncivilised and unchristianised Scandinavians, from the last of whose
devastations there was hardly time to recover before the Anglo-Saxon
monarchy was overthrown by the Normans. No wonder, then, that the
conquerors, though but then become adepts in architecture themselves,
should disdainfully reconstruct nearly all the churches and greater
edifices of their predecessors in that new manner of building in which
they had been so recently instructed, and for the carrying out of which
their conquest had supplied them with such ample means.

It would be a curious and interesting investigation to trace out the
history of what may be styled the Primitive Romanesque architecture of
Northern Europe; or, in other words, to examine into the style of
building which prevailed during the long interval between the overthrow
of the Roman power in the fifth century and the final establishment of
that family of nations which for the last eight or nine centuries has
been the embodied representative of Europe.

The thousandth year of our era seems as if it were the beginning of a
new state of things: as if what succeeded it were in the open daylight,
while the six preceding centuries could only be viewed by the glimmer of
twilight. This is especially the case as regards our own art. How little
do we know of the architecture of Western Europe, north of the Alps,
during that long interval! Only here and there a building equally
obscure in character and date,--a dull ray of light only just sufficing
to render the darkness visible. No doubt a careful investigation would
increase the number of known examples on the Continent. At present they
are but few, such as the Basse-œuvre at Beauvais; the Church of St. Jean
at Poictiers; that of Quenqueville in Normandy; the church at Lorsch, on
the Rhine, and the older parts of St. Pantaleon at Cologne; all of which
possess a character so distinct from that which prevails among the
buildings of succeeding times as quite to sever from all which followed
the architecture of these primitive ages,--this gulf which divides the
ancient from the modern world.[2] Our business, however, at present, is
not with the Continent, but with the sister islands of Britain.

The circumstances of the various portions of the British Isles differed
in those early times so much one from another, that it is difficult to
view them at all systematically. South Britain, early overspread with
Roman art, civilised and Christianised, while Scotland and Ireland were
yet barbarous and Pagan, became again, in its turn, both Pagan and
barbarous when Ireland and Scotland had received the light of
Christianity and civilisation.

Early in the fifth century these blessings had been conveyed to Ireland
from then Christian Britain, and in the next century South Britain was
sunk in almost impenetrable darkness, and was subsequently beholden to
Ireland and the Irish race dwelling in Scotland, on the one side, and to
missionaries from Rome on the other, for rekindling the extinguished
lamp of religion and knowledge.

Of all the churches which must have existed in what is now England when
inhabited by the old Britons, I am not sure that we possess a single
relic; nor is there any certainty that even in Wales or Cornwall, where
they were comparatively undisturbed, the case is much better. More
curious still is the scarcity of early buildings in Scotland; though I
shall be able to show you that some exceptions exist. Bede speaks of
timber building as the “_Mos Scotorum_” and of stone building as “_Mos
Britonibus insolitus_,” which may account for this dearth of objects of
high antiquity. However this may be, we have to look mainly to Ireland
for relics of the early modes of building among the British races; and
here we happily find much to gratify our curiosity.

It was early in the fifth century that Patricius or St. Patrick (who
describes himself as at once a Briton and a Roman), went from the
northern parts of Roman Britain to instruct the then Pagan Irish, or, as
they were more generally called, Scots. It was about the time when the
invasion of Alaric had compelled the Emperor Honorius to withdraw his
legions from Britain; and was, consequently, at the precise moment when
our country was about to pass from the age of Roman subjection into that
of mythic confusion,--beginning with the frightful devastations of the
Picts and Scots, and subsequently of the Saxons; passing on through the
semi-fabulous days of Vortigern, King Arthur, and Merlin, and ending
with the flight of Cadwallader from desolated Britain; the driving out
of the ancient inhabitants; the destruction of Christian churches and
Roman cities, and the re-establishment of Paganism.

As there seems good reason to believe that, among the existing remains
in Ireland, some are actually of the age of St. Patrick, it follows that
in them we possess remains two centuries earlier than any left us by our
own Anglo-Saxon forefathers, and that their type may be founded on that
of the lost British buildings, though no doubt far humbler in scale and
mode of building than those erected in South Britain with Roman aid. The
Early Irish remains are mainly of three classes: the cells and other
domestic buildings of the monks: the oratories and churches; and the
round towers. The former class are of the rudest and most ascetic
description, and seem to be founded on the customary dwellings of the
Pagan inhabitants. The monks evidently eschewed all pretensions to
personal comfort, and took up at once with the scale of dwelling common
among their flock. They lived in stone huts, built without mortar, and
vaulted over; more like ovens than human habitations, and so small as
only to be sufficient for one person. With these they surrounded their
churches, adding a few buildings, similar in character but somewhat
larger, for more general purposes. Some, even of their oratories, were
almost as pristine in their construction; and the churches themselves,
though less rude, were of the most severe simplicity.

The form of dwelling indicated by the Cells or “Kills” which I have
alluded to is not wholly alien to that still existing (or at least in
use at the commencement of the present century) in the distant island of
St. Kilda, excepting that the cells were for one person while the St.
Kilda houses are for a family. Dr. Edward Daniel Clark thus describes
these houses in 1797:--“The construction of their dwelling-houses
differs from that of all the western islands. They consist of a pile of
stones without cement, raised about 3 feet or 4 feet from the ground,
forming a small oblong enclosure, over which is raised a covering of
straw, bound together with transverse ropes of bent.... Round the walls
of their huts are one or more arched apertures, according to the number
of the family, leading to a vault, like an oven, arched with stone, and
defended strongly from the inclemency of the weather; in this they
sleep. I crawled on all-fours, with a lamp, into one of these, and found
the bottom covered with heath; in this, I was informed, four persons
slept. There is not sufficient space in them for a tall man to sit
upright, though the dimensions of these vaulted dormitories varied in
each hut, according to the number it was required to contain, or the
industry of the owners.”

The central apartment he describes as without either chimney or window,
but with two holes, some 7 inches square, to let out a little of the
peat smoke.

There exists in the greater island of Arran, in the Bay of Galway, among
many primæval antiquities, a house (Fig. 193), supposed to be of the
Pagan period, which is thus described by Mr. Petrie, in his admirable
work on the _Ancient Architecture of Ireland_:--“It is in its internal
measurement 19 feet long, 7 feet 6 inches broad, and 8 feet high, and
its walls are about 4 feet thick. Its doorway is but 3 feet high, and 2
feet 6 inches wide on the outside, but narrows to 2 feet on the inside.
The roof is formed, as in all buildings of this class, by a gradual
approximation of stones laid horizontally, till it is closed at the top
by a single stone; and two apertures in the centre served the double
purpose of a window and a chimney.”

[Illustration: Fig. 193.--Stone House, Arran.]

The cells of the monks differed but little from this, excepting in being
quadrangular within, though round or oval without. It would appear that
some of the Irish monasteries had whole towns of such insulated cells,
and it was from the great number of these erected by St. Columba that
his name received the affix of “Kill,” and which caused his famous
foundation in Iona to be called “I Colmkill.”

The earlier oratories seem frequently to have been a development of the
construction of these cells, “built of uncemented stones admirably
fitted to each other, and their lateral walls converging from the base
to their apex in curved lines.”

[Illustration: Fig. 194.--Oratory of St. Gallerus.]

These pristine oratories are surrounded by the cells and the graves of
their founders and occupants, the latter inscribed with the cross. I
give, from Mr. Petrie, a sketch of the oratory of St. Gallerus (Fig.
194), which he describes as, externally, 23 feet long by 10 feet broad,
and 16 feet high to the external apex. It has a small doorway in the
west end, and is lighted by a single window in the east end, which east
gable was finished by a cross. Of very similar construction are several
in Scotland and the Western Isles. Of these I have been enabled to give
some illustrations, which are, in one respect, more complete than Mr.
Petrie’s drawings, inasmuch as they are furnished with plans (Figs. 195,
196, 197).

[Illustration: Fig. 195.--Elevation of south side, and Plan of Teampull
Sula Sgeir, Scotland.]

[Illustration: Fig. 196.--Interior, west end, and Plan of Teampull Rona,
Scotland.]

[Illustration: Fig. 197.--Teampull Beaunachadh, Scotland. The Chapel of
St. Flann, in the Flannan Isles.

East end. West end.]

“The early Irish churches are of two very simple types, being either
oblong (Fig. 198), with a door at the west, and a window at the east
end,--a mere development, with upright walls, of the oratories just
described,--or a double oblong, forming a nave and chancel, and united
by a chancel arch.... The one doorway is always west, and one of the
windows to the east, though side windows are also introduced, all
apparently without glass; the doorway usually square-headed, the windows
round-arched, or triangular-headed.” “In all cases the sides of doorways
and windows incline, like the doorways in the oldest remains of
Cyclopean buildings, to which they bear a singularly striking
resemblance.” “In the smaller churches the roofs were frequently formed
of stone, but in the larger ones were always of wood.”

[Illustration: Fig. 198.--Teampull Caeunanach, Ireland.]

The doorways are, however, sometimes arched. The apsidal termination is,
I believe, wholly unknown in these churches; and it would appear from
this fact that the square end of the majority of English chancels is a
tradition from the ancient British churches: the apse, which so
frequently made its appearance and was again so frequently removed,
being a foreign importation, against which the national feeling
rebelled, as if opposed to local tradition. Of a piece with this feeling
was the indignant protest of a Scotchman against the intention of one
St. Malachy to erect a church in an unaccustomed style. “Good man, what
has induced you to introduce this novelty into these regions? we are
Scots, not Gauls; why this levity? Was ever work so superfluous, so
proud!” This feeling, rather than the poverty of the country, may have
occasioned the rigid severity of these early churches in Ireland, the
largest of which rarely exceeded 60 feet in length,--the very length
prescribed by St. Patrick for one of his churches, and which Mr. Petrie
thinks was his usual dimension for churches of the largest class. This
was also the length of the original church at Glastonbury, probably the
first erected in Great Britain, while it differs but slightly from that
of the naves of Brixworth Church, Worth Church, and that on the
Castlehill at Dover, three of our oldest remaining pre-Norman English
churches.

The difficulty naturally arising from the limited size of the churches
and the unlimited numbers of the monks, appears to have been met by
multiplying the number of the former. Thus we find several--up to
seven--churches continually forming a single group. Just as at
Glastonbury, there were at one time three in immediate proximity, though
subsequently united into one.

Besides the more or less numerous cells which surrounded the churches,
or groups of churches, there were usually houses for the abbots, hardly
less ascetic in their construction than the cells of the monks; halls
for strangers, refectories, and kitchens. Of the abbots’ houses we have
several remaining, especially those of St. Columba at Kells, and of St.
Kelvin at Glendalough. These were single rooms, about 18 feet to 25 feet
long, by 15 or 16 feet wide, vaulted and covered by a stone roof, with a
window and a door of very small size, all perfectly plain, but
skilfully constructed.

All such groups of buildings were surrounded by a high and thick wall of
defence, with strong gateways, and somewhere at hand was often erected a
round tower, at once the bell-tower of the monastery and the place of
refuge in case of attack.

We know nothing of the internal arrangement of the churches, excepting
that in some cases there is a stone bench across the east end, the altar
standing a little in advance; a square version of the Basilican
arrangement; for, be it remembered, the apse possibly only came into use
when secular Basilicæ were converted into churches, while those under
consideration were probably founded upon the traditions of churches
which existed in Britain before the time of Constantine, so that our
English square east-end may after all be the more primitive type, and if
such were the case, it would appear that the seats of the clergy were at
first along the eastern wall and behind the altar, as in the apsidal
churches. To these views, however, I will not pledge myself, as we do
not know how soon apses came into use.

This system, too, of erecting monasteries, not with general dormitories,
but with numerous private cells, seems to have been founded on the early
Eastern form, of which so many existed in the deserts of the Thebaid,
and of which many ancient notices exist. The most perfect remaining
specimen of this kind of monastery in Ireland is one on a most minute
scale founded by St. Fechin, in the seventh century, in the almost
inaccessible island of Ardoilen, off the coast of Connemara, which,
excepting only that all its buildings are vaulted, agrees almost
precisely with Bede’s description of that founded about the same time in
the island of Farne, on the Northumbrian coast, by St. Cuthbert, himself
a Scot or perhaps an Irishman. Those in the north of Ireland and in
Scotland seem to have been usually of timber, “_more Scotorum_,” as Bede
says, and have consequently perished; but in the south and west of
Ireland they were of stone, and remain, in many instances, in a more or
less complete state to our own day.

Some, however, in Scotland, were of stone, like those of Ireland.

[Illustration: Fig. 199.--Leather Book-case.]

It was in these establishments,--so severely simple in their
architecture,--that the lamp of piety and learning was preserved during
the darkest period of our history; sending forth its light not only
among the British islands but to Continental Europe; and here were
followed up even the decorative arts,--as illumination, embroidery, and
jewellery. Such, no doubt, was the famous monastery of Iona, which, as
an able historian says, “soon became, morally and religiously, a
spectacle as glorious as any that Christendom could afford.... The
school, of whatever knowledge, sacred or profane, was then within the
reach of the northern people,--the nursery of many arts, the centre of a
Christian colony, and the mother of priests and missionaries.”

It was on landing here that Dr. Johnson exclaimed:--“We are now treading
that illustrious island which was once the luminary of the Caledonian
regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits
of knowledge and the blessings of religion.... That man is little to be
envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon,
or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona.”

[Illustration: Fig. 200.--Window, Timahoe.]

At somewhat later periods the severity of the Irish architecture became
gradually relaxed, while its leading types remained unaltered. As the
dates of the more decorative buildings are unsettled, I will not enter
upon the discussion how far their ornamentation was indigenous, and how
far derived from other countries. Towards the Norman period, we find
features agreeing with the details of that style united with Irish forms
and mixed with ornamental details,--such as those which decorate the
well-known Irish crosses, and are common on the monumental slabs in the
monastic cemeteries. We also find the jambs of doorways, windows (Fig.
200), and chancel arches, losing the square form extending through the
thickness of the walls, which characterises the earlier examples (like
those of our own Anglo-Saxon buildings), and becoming divided into
separate orders, with decorative mouldings, and shafts with caps and
bases, and thus exhibiting the most important elements of the advanced
Romanesque and “Gothic” styles. These features increase in distinctness
till we reach examples known to be contemporary with our own Norman
works, and culminate in the charming Chapel of St. Cormac at Cashel,
which, though in outline evincing an adherence to Irish tradition, is in
all its details distinctly Norman, and is known to have been erected in
the twelfth century. Mr. Petrie thinks that these decorative features
are in many instances of very early date. I cannot quite agree with him
where Norman details appear; for, though a system of ornamentation may
appear early in a particular country, it is impossible that it should
anticipate the precise forms elaborated much later by a regular course
of progression elsewhere.

[Illustration: Fig. 201.--Chapel of St. Cormac at Cashel. Exterior.]

[Illustration: Fig. 202.--Chapel of St. Cormac at Cashel. Interior.]

There is in Scotland at least one specimen of parallel character to
these later of the old Irish churches. I allude to the church of St.
Regulus, which stands side-by-side with the cathedral at St. Andrews;
just as that of St. Cormac does with the cathedral at Cashel.

[Illustration: Fig. 203.--North and East Elevations, Church of St.
Regulus, St. Andrews.]

[Illustration: Fig. 204.--Plan, Church of St. Regulus, St. Andrews.]

Mr. Billings has given a good view of this interesting, and, I may say,
beautiful, remain; and I am enabled, by the kindness of a friend (Mr. R.
Anderson, of Edinburgh), to show you detailed drawings of it. It
consists either of a nave (with chancel arch) and a western tower, or of
a chancel with apse arch and a _central_ tower, in which latter case it
would be parallel to the remains of Jarrow Church. In the other case, it
may have had a lofty western porch, as had those of Wearmouth and
Barton-upon-Humber. The large western arch in the tower must have opened
into either a nave or a porch; and, as this is actually larger than the
chancel arch, and the mark of the roof of equal height, it certainly
suggests a nave. Its workmanship is of a very superior character: and
its details, though plain and archaic, are very good. The tower is of
great height, evidently, like many other early towers in Scotland,
founded on the idea of the early campaniles of Italy. The capitals of
shafts closely resemble those of St. Pantaleon at Cologne,[3] which are
of the tenth century. I find it difficult to conjecture the age of this
church; but, I imagine it to be anterior in its date to the introduction
of Norman architecture into England. It is said that when the
surrounding ground was excavated the foundations of an apse were found.

[Illustration: Fig. 205.--Details, Church of St. Regulus, St. Andrews.]

I will not dwell on the Irish crosses, and the round towers,--time not
permitting,--though both are among the most remarkable features of early
Irish art. The towers agree precisely in their architectural details
with the churches, and never appear but in connection with them. They
are known in the Irish language by a name signifying a belfry, and were
no doubt the campaniles of the monasteries, their unique type showing
the originality of invention of these early architects. Their doors were
placed at a considerable height for the sake of security; they were
divided into several stories, each with a single window except the upper
one, which had four or more,--all pointing out their double object of
bell towers and places of defence. Two similar towers remain in
Scotland.

The Irish and Iona crosses are works of extreme beauty, and of very
decorative detail. I shall have to allude to their anti-types in England
when speaking of Anglo-Saxon architecture, to the consideration of which
I will now proceed.

The subject of the architecture of pre-Norman England,--that is to say,
of England (exclusive of Wales and the counties occupied by the
Britons), between the arrival of Augustine in 596, and that of William
of Normandy in 1066,--a period exceeding by ten years the interval
between the reigns of Edward III. and Queen Victoria,--has been held by
some to be involved in such utter obscurity as to leave it uncertain
whether any such architecture existed, or, at least, whether we have any
means of ascertaining what it was; and yet no period of history is,
perhaps, more replete with accounts of the foundation of cathedrals,
monasteries, and churches. The cause of this is clear. The churches of
this period were, no doubt, frequently of timber; but, of whatever
material, were subjected,--first to the destructive effects of the
repeated devastations of the Danes, and subsequently to the greater
architectural ambition of the Normans which led to a perfect mania for
reconstruction. The consequence is, that we have no cathedral or great
abbey or church remaining of this period, and have to content ourselves
with such evidences of their style as may be gleaned from among ordinary
parish churches for the most part in rural districts, and consequently
of the humbler class.

The historical notices of the erection of churches during the
Anglo-Saxon period are more frequent than descriptive.

On the arrival of Augustine, he found the Church of St. Martin,
Canterbury, already used by the Christian Queen Bertha. This was, no
doubt, a Romano-British structure. He found also a second, but in ruins;
and this he made the nucleus of his metropolitan cathedral. He
constructed also a third, afterwards called by his own name. We know,
too, that in his day were also founded the cathedrals of Rochester and
London; and there is no reason to doubt that all of these were of stone.
I am not aware that we hear anything more, in Anglo-Saxon days, of St.
Martin’s, or that we have any description of St. Augustine’s, but we
have a strong light thrown on the subsequent history of the cathedral up
to the Norman Conquest in the writings of one Eadmer, a singer at the
cathedral, who wrote early in the twelfth century.

Recapitulating the account of its having been erected by St. Augustine
on the site of a Roman church, he proceeds to say that in the days of
Archbishop Odo, in the tenth century, the roof had become so decayed as
to require renewal; that Odo took the opportunity of increasing the
height of the walls, and that the work occupied three years. He also
tells us that a church dedicated to St. John the Baptist had been added
by Archbishop Cuthbert in the eighth century near the east end of the
Church, for baptisms, etc. He says that the church escaped the
destruction threatened by the army of King Sweyn in 1011; but was
subsequently burnt down by accident, and remained in ruins until rebuilt
by Lanfranc.

He further gives a very clear description of the church, from which it
appears that it was built in some degree on the model of the Basilica of
St. Peter at Rome. He minutely describes the eastern altar space as
greatly raised above the general level of the church, and having beneath
it a crypt or confessionary, made in the likeness of that of St. Peter’s
at Rome. He further describes an oratory and altar to St. Mary at the
western end raised on steps, behind which was the pontifical throne.
Also two towers, the one on the north and the other on the south side of
the nave, projecting beyond the aisles, and containing chapels.

Professor Willis, in his admirable history of the cathedral, gives an
able dissertation on its plan at this period, showing how precisely the
description of the eastern arrangements agree with those of the Basilica
of St. Peter, but that the Chapel of the Virgin at the west end must
have been a western apse, like those so common in Germany, and of which
we have an earlier instance in the ancient design for the arrangements
of the monastery of St. Gall, supposed to be of the eighth century.
Eadmer confirms his account by saying that he can answer for its
correctness, for he saw the ruins himself when a boy at school.

From the above description we learn, first, that a Roman model was
taken; secondly, that the church was of stone or brick; thirdly, that it
had aisles; fourthly, that it had both an eastern and western apse;
beneath the former of which was an extensive crypt, called a
confessionary, as containing the tombs of confessors.

The additional church of St. John was clearly a baptistery; and
Professor Willis thinks that Archbishop Odo’s addition to the height of
the walls was a clerestory.

I am not aware that we have any information as to the cathedrals built
by the companions of Augustine (Mellitus and Justus) at London and
Rochester; but it is unlikely that they would be otherwise than of
cognate plan and materials; while, curiously enough, there continues to
this day at Rochester, and continued to the seventeenth century in our
own St. Paul’s, equally as at Canterbury, a crypt beneath the elevated
sanctuary, no doubt the lineal successor and representative of those
erected by these missionary bishops, in imitation of the great basilica
at Rome, whence they had been sent to evangelise this distant region.

A few years later Paulinus, another Roman missionary, succeeded, under
circumstances very similar, in converting to Christianity Edwin, king of
Northumbria, who, while receiving instructions preparatory to his
baptism, built a temporary church of timber at York; but subsequently
erected, around the same, and under the instructions of Paulinus, a
larger and nobler church of stone, which was completed by Oswald, his
successor. Here, again, we have still remaining the choir-crypt,--the
probable successor of that of the original church, and as some say,
containing a relic of its actual structure. Thus, we have the two
metropolitan cathedrals distinctly recorded as erected of stone by their
first bishops.

Bede also relates that Paulinus built a stone church, of beautiful
workmanship, at Lincoln, the walls of which remained at the time he
wrote, though, by some mischance, it had lost its roof. It is clear,
however, that some of Paulinus’s churches were of timber, and, later on,
we find St. Aidan and St. Finan,--missionaries from Iona,--erecting a
cathedral of that material in the Island of Lindisfarne “_more
Scotorum_.”

Shortly afterwards, however, a church was built, after the monastic rule
of Lindisfarne, but of stone, at Lastingham, in Yorkshire; where, again,
we find the choir-crypt,--the successor of the original one,--remaining
to this day. Still, in the seventh century, we have a more minute
account given us by Bede of the works of Benedict Biscop, in the
erection of the monastic church of Monk Wearmouth. This church he built
of stone, “according to the manner of the Romans, which he had always
loved.” He built, also, the church at Jarrow of the same material, and
the existing remains of both I shall have presently to describe. So much
did he consider himself a follower of the Roman manner, that he went,
over and over again, to Rome, to procure ornaments wherewith to decorate
his two churches. This was about 670 and 680.

The successor of Benedict Biscop is said to have sent architects to
Naitan, king of the Picts, to make him a church of stone after the
manner of the Romans.

About the same time we find St. Wilfrid thoroughly repairing, glazing,
and “washing whiter than snow,” Paulinus’s Church, at York, and building
two of great splendour (according to the ideas of the times), at Hexham
and Ripon.

The former is described by a contemporary writer in ecstatic language,
as “supported by various pillars and porticoes, adorned with a
marvellous length and height of walls, and with passages of various
turnings; nor was it ever,” he adds, “heard that such another church was
erected on this side the Alps. He tells us also, of its ornaments of
gold and silver and precious stones,” and of its altar, clothed with
purple and silk hangings. This church remained, though in a damaged
state, till the twelfth century, when the Norman prior describes it in
very similar words to those used by the old Saxon historian. He speaks
of the crypts and subterranean oratories, the walls of great height,
“divided into three distinct stories supported by polished columns, some
square, and others of various forms,” of the “capitals of the columns”
... and “the arch of sanctuary,” as “decorated with histories and images
and different figures carved in relief in stone and painted, displaying
a pleasing variety and wonderful beauty.” The body of the church was
“surrounded by aisles and porticoes, which with wonderful art were
divided above and below by walls and winding stairs.” Above he describes
“galleries of stone,” by which “a vast multitude of persons might be
there and pass round the church without being visible to any one in the
nave below.”

Of the church at Ripon, the contemporary historian says that “he [St.
Wilfrid] erected and finished at Ripon a basilica of polished stone from
its foundations in the earth to the top, supported on high by various
columns and porticoes.”

This church, founded by Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, was in the tenth
century “reduced by wars and hostile incursions to a deserted and ruined
solitude.”

All the buildings of the erection of which I have briefly enumerated the
records, were founded within a century of the arrival of St. Augustine.
Within the same century (about 680) we have reason to believe was
erected the church at Brixworth, in Northamptonshire, which still
remains in a fragmentary state, but, as I shall presently show, with
sufficient proofs of its having been founded on the plan of a Roman
basilica, with an aisled nave and an unaisled choir, an apsidal and
aisled sanctuary raised high on a vaulted crypt. This church was but a
humble dependency of the great monastery of Peterborough.

I would not have fatigued you with these documentary accounts, had I not
felt it desirable to prove the importance of these earliest temples of
our English Church. Cathedrals, churches, and monasteries were, in fact,
built throughout the length and breadth of now Christianised England.
The more important buildings were all, no doubt, of stone; many of the
humbler ones of timber.

But times of trouble were at hand: “there is a time to break down” as
well as “a time to build up;” and what the Christian English had built,
the Pagan Northmen too often overthrew. Thus, in Alfred’s time (though
in the reign of his predecessor), we find Croyland, Peterborough, Ely,
and other monasteries ruthlessly destroyed, and in some cases they lay
desolate for very long periods of time, though in others they were
speedily restored.

At a later period, a new impulse was given to building by the
introduction of the Benedictine order, and we find monasteries either
founded or reformed on this rule throughout the kingdom.

Two descriptions of such Benedictine churches I will quote, the first
being from the history of Ramsey Abbey, in the time of Dunstan.

The architect’s name is, for a wonder, mentioned in this case: it was
Ædnoth, and he came, as it would seem, from Worcester. The church is
said to have had “two towers rising above its roof. The smaller of these
towards the west, in front of the Basilica, presented a fine spectacle
from a distance to those entering the island. The larger one was in the
centre of the square, standing upon four columns connected by arches
stretching from aisle to aisle.” This laconic description seems to
indicate a church with aisles, transepts, central tower, and a western
tower. It may be, however, that the word “_ala_” signifies not an aisle,
but merely a transept.

The other church I will refer to under this head is the Cathedral of
Winchester, as rebuilt in the reign of Edgar. It had been founded in the
days of St. Birinus, the first missionary to the West Saxons, about 635.
Athelwold, made Bishop of Winchester in 963, was a great restorer of
churches which had been devastated by the Danes. Among those restored by
him may be especially named those of Ely and Peterborough. He renovated
and partly rebuilt his own cathedral at Winchester, which was
rededicated in 980. It is described by Wolstan, in a poem addressed to
the succeeding Bishop, St. Elphege. He speaks of the “lofty walls and
solid aisles, and various arches; the many chapels which so distract the
attention, that a stranger is at a loss which way to turn, seeing doors
open to him on all sides.” He mentions also the “fine roofs of intricate
structure, and the brilliant variety of the fabric.” St. Elphege seems
to have added a new apse, with “secret crypts, where secret recesses lay
on every side, the structure of which supported the holy altar, and the
venerable relics of the saints.” “A sparkling tower,” also, “that
reflects from heaven the first rays of the sun.” “It has five
compartments pierced by open windows, and on all four sides as many ways
are open. The lofty peaks of the tower are capped with pointed roofs,
and are adorned with various and sinuous vaults, curved with
well-skilled contrivance. Above these stands a rod with golden balls,
and at the top a mighty golden cock, which boldly turns its face to
every wind that blows.”

Again, however, came the ruthless Northman, and destroyed church after
church throughout the entire course of his desolating march.

No former incursion probably had been so fatal to architecture as that
of Sweyn. Its very success, however, brought its own cure; for his son
Canute, being allowed to succeed to the English throne, not only became
Christian, but devoted himself with exemplary piety to repairing the
devastations which the sacrilege of his father and himself had
perpetrated. He not only repented, but brought forth fruits meet for
repentance; so that the last half-century of the history of the
pre-Norman England, is replete with accounts of the restoration and
building of churches.

The foregoing notices are sufficient to show that throughout the
continuance of the pre-Norman English Church buildings were constantly
being erected of considerable dimensions and sometimes of great
intricacy, and even of some degree of splendour of design; and that the
more important of these were uniformly of stone, though the humbler ones
were often of timber. It further shows that the architectural style of
these buildings, as well as the internal arrangement of the churches,
was intended to be an imitation of the Roman buildings of the same
period.

We will now proceed to inquire into the existence and character of any
remains of buildings of this period.

Of the important structures, I may say at once that nothing remains; the
ambitious character of the Norman builders having led them to
reconstruct on a larger scale all the cathedrals and great monastic
churches, excepting, indeed, that _one_ which they found in course of
re-erection at Westminster, and which was designed in their own style.

There exist, however, throughout the length and breadth of the land,
remnants, and, in a few instances, large portions, of buildings of a
wholly exceptional character; not assignable to the Norman or any other
of the well-known styles which have prevailed in England; but evidently
of earlier date. They are clearly not early Norman; for, with the single
exception of the round arch, they have nothing in common with the
specimens of that style erected in the reign of the Conqueror, but are
clearly of a style quite distinct from them. In one instance, we have a
tower known to have been erected in the days of the Conqueror, in
juxtaposition with the remains of a church in this more ancient style;
and in many other instances we have Norman features in connection with
these mysterious remains, and to every eye asserting the entire
diversity of their art. In some instances, again, as at Monk Wearmouth,
Jarrow, Brixworth, and Deerhurst, the remains of this style are on the
sites where churches are recorded to have been built in Anglo-Saxon
days. These remains correspond in character with buildings represented
in Saxon illuminated books. They evince in many instances evidence of
having been built in rude imitation of the Roman works of those periods,
though in some instances they seem also to suggest the imitation of
timber construction.

The most obvious rules of induction, then, point to the conclusion that
these are the remains of buildings of Anglo-Saxon date.[4]

The leading characteristics of these remains (though not all of them to
be found in every instance, and probably varying with the date) are as
follows:--The frequent decoration of the external walls with pilaster
strips, as is so common in early Italian churches, and afterwards in
Germany; the bonding of these by alternate vertical and horizontal
stones; the imitation of this mode of bonding in quoins where no such
strips are used, and in the jambs of doorways and other openings,
excepting where Roman brick is of frequent occurrence; the jambs of
doorways running _square through_ the thickness of the wall, without
recessed orders, and the door itself hung against the inner face of the
wall; the frequent use of a kind of pilaster on either side both of
doorways and archways, the impost moulding sometimes breaking round, and
sometimes stopping against them, and a continuation of the pilaster
going round the arch;[5] the occasional use of triangular heads to doors
and windows; the use of what are called baluster columns, or short
pillars, turned in a lathe, not unlike Elizabethan balusters, bulging in
the middle and ornamented with a number of mouldings of trifling relief,
such as turners of all ages delight in (these are used for the division
of windows, and other purposes); the windows which are usually set high
in the wall, are often equally splayed within and without, and the
arches sometimes more splayed than the jambs, and slanting upwards like
an old-fashioned bonnet; a very abnormal kind of mouldings, unlike those
of any other style, and generally a very strange archaic look in the
whole of the work, which makes one conscious of being in the presence of
the works of men in a very pristine state of civilisation, the style
having little or no relationship to those Mediæval buildings with which
we are familiar.

I ought, also, to mention the frequent use of tall, narrow towers,
unbroken, or nearly so, in their vertical outline, either simply quoined
with the long and short work already mentioned, or with their surfaces
diversified by pilaster strips and string-courses, the intervening
surfaces being usually built of rubble and plastered. The belfry-windows
are often of two lights, separated by a baluster or other form of pillar
set in the middle of the wall, and bearing a transverse bracket of
stone, to enable it to support the whole thickness of the wall. Such
towers are clearly imitations of the Italian campanile, though in a rude
form. They occasionally have oblique strips as well as the vertical
pillars and horizontal strings, which suggest the idea of an imitation
of timber-work; at other times the pilasters are united by arches.

It is not easy to describe the general plans of churches, as the remains
we possess are too scanty to be generalised upon. Some had aisles, some
transepts without aisles, many had neither. One, at least, has a central
tower without transepts; and at least one a central tower with
transepts. Some had apsidal chancels, and some had the square end. The
towers, in a great majority of instances, are at the west end. The walls
are in some cases by no means low, and the naves occasionally of greater
width than is usual in village churches of later periods.

What forms are made use of for pillars we are but imperfectly aware. One
of the notices I have quoted speaks of their being square and of other
forms. The few which remain _in situ_ are of the former kind, mere
fragments of wall: but at Worth Church there are, in the jambs of the
chancel arch, half pillars, 2½ ft. in diameter, with very perfect
capitals; and certainly an entire pillar of this form must have
suggested the demi-column. At Canterbury there are two round columns
brought from Reculver, which are probably of Anglo-Saxon date. Their
capitals are of the most remarkable form.

I will make special mention of a few pre-Norman churches and fragments
of churches as specimens; but to do more in a lecture such as this would
be both tedious and unprofitable; for, however interesting the study of
the primæval architecture of our race, it must be confessed that, while
in general plan these churches are the progenitors of those we think
worthy of imitation, we cannot venture to say so much of their details.

[Illustration: Fig. 206.--Plan and General View of Brixworth Church,
Northamptonshire.]

I exhibit a plan and a general view of Brixworth Church, enlarged from
drawings kindly lent me by Mr. Roberts, who has given the church the
most careful study. We have documentary evidence of the erection of the
church by the abbots of Peterborough, about 680. Being near the ruins of
a Roman station, it contains much Roman brick.

The chancel, or rather the sanctuary, was apsidal, with a surrounding
aisle, and raised high on a crypt of corresponding plan. This sanctuary
and aisle open by three arches into a choir of 30 ft. square, and this,
I think, by a single arch, into a nave about 30 ft. by 60 ft.

This nave had arcades opening into either aisles, or, as Mr. Roberts
thinks, into cubicula or oratories, the foundation of which he has
found. The arches are turned in Roman bricks, very strangely used; a
steep skewback being formed for their springings to reduce the angle of
convergence, and so moderate the thickness of the mortar-joint, which,
in arches of such a depth, would have been inconvenient. The nave and
choir have had a clerestory, the windows of which have arches of Roman
bricks. This is thought by some to be a later addition, from the reduced
thickness of the walls; but of this I feel far from certain. Mr. Roberts
suggests it as possible that the wide nave was again subdivided by
arcades; but I confess I much doubt this.

To this original church a western tower was subsequently added, in which
the Roman brick does not take so prominent a place; and later still,
though still in Anglo-Saxon days, a very large round stair-turret was
added, west of the tower.

The alterations introduced when the tower was added are clearly visible,
especially the introduction of a triple window with baluster pillars,
looking from the second storey of the tower into the church.

[Illustration: Fig. 207.--Brixworth Church, Northamptonshire.

Nave, looking West. Nave, looking East.]

[Illustration: Fig. 208.--Plan of Church on the Castle-hill, Dover.]

I exhibit also a plan and other drawings of the till lately ruined
church on the Castle-hill at Dover. Here, again, Roman bricks have been
largely used, both for quoins and arches, and some other parts. The
church is cruciform, with a central tower, the transepts being narrower
and lower than the nave. Wide and lofty arches open into the tower on
the east and west, but those on the sides were, no doubt, low and
narrow, and consequently were replaced by larger

[Illustration: Fig. 209.--View of the Church on the Castle-hill, Dover.]

ones late in the twelfth century. The chancel is square-ended. The
windows are of a very large size, and about equally splayed without and
within, and had wood frames for the glass, the grooves for which were
quite distinct (Fig. 210). The main doorway seems to have been that on
the south side. It has stone jambs of long and short work running square
through the wall, the door having been hung against the inner surface.
The arch is of brick, and a pilaster strip flanked it on either side and
ran round the arch. Similar, on a small scale, was a ruined doorway,
found in the north transept, and now restored precisely to its original
form. Similar, also, are the windows of the tower, which were treated
like doorways, with a shutter within. At the west end stands the
ancient Roman pharos, from which was a communication to the church, both
on the floor-level and also above. The latter had a doorway in a very
perfect state (Fig. 211), which opened into a western gallery, of which
I found the holes for the insertion of the timbers. Beneath this
gallery, on either side, was a small window, which, for want of room for
an arch, was made square-headed, with splayed wooden lintels, of which
the exact impressions of the ends were found, giving its precise
form.[6]

[Illustration: Fig. 210.]

[Illustration: Fig. 211.--Upper Western Door, Castle-hill Church,
Dover.]

The tower arches have the pilaster strips on either side, and continuing
round the arches. Each has a stone impost with very abnormal mouldings
(Fig. 212).

[Illustration: Fig. 212.--Eastern Tower Arch, Castle-hill Church,
Dover.]

[Illustration: Fig. 213. Saxon Balusters.]

Several very curious balusters of Caen stone were found among the ruins
(Fig. 213). They appear from their freshness to have been always
_internal_, and, I fancy, formed parts of a screen under the western
arch of the tower, of which some foundations apparently remain.
Externally, the quoins are partly of Roman brick and partly of long and
short work, with very large stones. This is, perhaps, the most nearly
complete of all our pre-Norman churches. There is no clue to its date.
Some call it a British church: some say that it was built by Eadbald,
the son of Ethelbert, about 640, and others that it is of a much later
period, to which opinion I confess that I incline.[7]

[Illustration: Fig. 214.--Worth Church, Sussex.]

[Illustration: Fig. 215.--Plan, Worth Church.]

[Illustration: Fig. 216. TRANSEPT]

[Illustration: Fig. 217. CHANCEL]

Another nearly complete church is that at Worth, in Sussex (Fig. 214).
The plan may be said to be that of the Dover Church, omitting the
central tower and adding an apse. The transepts, like those at Dover,
are small, and their arches low and narrow; while the chancel arch
assumes almost majestic proportions. The transept arches (now much
mutilated) had the pilaster strip, both to jambs and arch, with a double
square impost of massive proportions (Fig. 216). The chancel arch is
more artistic in its treatment, having a large demi-column in either
jamb, 2 ft. 6 in. in diameter, with a regularly formed, though plain,
capital; while instead of the pilaster, a smaller semi-column is placed
against the face of the wall on either side, and indirectly carried
round the arch in the form of a square projection (Fig. 217). The arch
itself is square in section, and runs without break, through the
thickness of the wall. No doorway nor window of the original date
remains. The walls of the nave are about 25 ft. high, and are divided at
mid-height by a large string-course, above which the windows were
probably placed. The angles have pilaster strips in long and short work,
and similar strips are placed at intervals along the walls reaching up
to the mid-height string-course, all of them standing on a continuous
base of two massive courses of stone. The half-height string-course of
the nave is continued round the transepts, as are the eaves courses, and
run across their gable ends. The chancel was externally dealt with much
as the nave, though a little less in height. This church had no tower,
and, as a curious commentary on the fashionable opinion that the
Anglo-Saxons nearly always built of timber and their successors in
after-times of stone, we find a timber tower of the fifteenth century
added to the stone church of Saxon date![8]

[Illustration: Fig. 218.--Plan, and East End of Church, Bradford,
Wilts.]

[Illustration: Fig. 219.--Church, Bradford, Wilts.]

At Bradford, in Wilts, a very complete church has but recently been
discovered; having previously been so surrounded by buildings that its
character was unnoticed. I give drawings of it, made by my friend Mr.
Irvine, a zealous antiquary, who has also sent to the Academy a cast of
some uncouth sculpture found there.[9] The church consists of a nave and
chancel, and has every characteristic of Anglo-Saxon work strongly
developed.[10]

At Jarrow-on-the Tyne the chancel of the Saxon church remains. It has
few characteristic features. The windows are of a very pristine form, in
this case with no external splay, the jambs of upright stones with
horizontal stones for imposts, and arches cut out of single stones. They
had been walled up at a very early date to a certain thickness from the
exterior with very small perforations,--some circular and some more
elongated,--in the filling up wall. This, I fancy, was as a means of
defence. There is one doorway, which is a plain arched opening running
square through the wall, the door having been hung as usual against its
inner face, and the jambs formed of large stones facing the reveal.
There are some signs of an apse having existed, but of this I cannot
speak with any certainty. A tower was erected between the nave and the
chancel--as I am informed by a local antiquary--in the reign of the
Conqueror. The nave has long since perished, but in the walls of a
modern erection on its site were found, used as building material,
about twenty baluster columns, some 2 ft. 3 in. high and a foot in
diameter (Fig. 220). This was in all probability the very church erected
by Benedict Biscop, and in which the Venerable Bede worshipped.

[Illustration: Fig. 220.--Baluster Columns, Jarrow-on-the-Tyne.]

At Monk Wearmouth are the remains of the other church of Benedict
Biscop.

This church was burnt, as also was that at Jarrow, by the Danes in 867,
and both remained in ruins till about 1074, when (or a few years later)
both churches were re-roofed and restored to their sacred use. It was at
this time that the tower at Jarrow was erected.

The most interesting portion of the church at Wearmouth is its western
end. From this projects a tower evidently of Anglo-Saxon date. This
tower has arches on three sides of its lower storey, which, till
recently, were not only walled up, but almost buried in the accumulated
earth.

In September 1866 they were excavated, and the western entrance opened
out by the local Archæological Society, with the help of Mr. Johnson,
architect, of Newcastle. The side doorways were found to have monolith
jambs, 6 in. wide on the face, which are notched into a continuous cill,
and support massive imposts, from which the arch springs, with very bold
voussoirs. The western entrance, which is 6 ft. 4½ in.

[Illustration: Fig. 221.--Western Entrance. Church at Monk Wearmouth.]

to the springing and 4 ft. 8½ in. wide, has an arch springing from
massive abaci 10½ in. thick, which are supported by baluster-shafts very
similar to those found at Jarrow, two of which occupy the width of the
wall on either side, and stand upon jambs each of a long and a short
stone, the reveal of which is curiously sculptured with entwined
serpents. This is decidedly the most remarkable doorway of this kind yet
known. Above the doorway runs a band or string sculptured with animals
and edged with the cable mould. At the same time, the two lower storeys
of the tower were found to have originally formed a gabled porch,--two
windows, of construction very similar to the side arches above
described, having been stopped up in the end of the church by the
conversion of this porch into a tower. Baluster-shafts have been
discovered in the internal jambs of these windows.

At Jarrow, amongst many curious fragments discovered, is a stone in
which is sculptured, as a continuous ornament, a long row of the
balusters represented on a miniature scale, as if they were so
established an architectural element as to be imitated just as arcades
and windows are in Gothic architecture as a mere ornament.

The church at Stow, in Lincolnshire, contains extensive remains of
Anglo-Saxon work, but of doubtful date. The church was founded about the
time of Paulinus, as a cathedral for the Bishops of Lindsey, but was
burnt by the Danes, as it is believed, in 870. It was re-founded about
1040. The tower arches and transepts are in one style, but of which date
is doubtful. I confess I think the preponderance of evidence is in
favour of the earlier date. Foundations have been discovered of aisles
to the nave, clearly of the same age with the transepts. The older parts
show everywhere marks of fire, and the transepts have been heightened in
Saxon times; and, as I should think probable, at the time of the second
foundation. The present nave and chancel are Norman.

There exist several crypts beneath chancels, which are of this date.
Among these, besides the fragmentary remains at Brixworth, I will
mention one not generally known, at Wing, in Buckinghamshire. It is of
excessive rudeness, being built only of very rough stone; but it is
notable for the completeness of its plan, being apsidal, with two ranges
of piers, and as having remains of the two doorways through which it was
approached by steps from either side of the chancel arch.

[Illustration: Fig. 222.--View of Crypt, Repton Church, Derbyshire.]

The apse in this case is polygonal, with pilaster strips up its angles,
and parts of the nave are of pre-Norman date, and show clear evidence of
its having had aisles.

The crypt at Repton is famous for the finished and decorative form of
its architecture. I give a drawing of it.

[Illustration: Fig. 223.--Plan of Crypt, Repton Church, Derbyshire.]

The crypt at Lastingham is not of Saxon date, but its Norman successor.
The original church was destroyed by the Danes. Its foundation I have
already noticed.

The most numerous of the Anglo-Saxon remains are the bell-towers. These
have almost always the peculiar characteristics which I have already
noticed. Their number is so great that it would be impossible to enter
into any enumeration of them. One of the best known, perhaps, is that of
St. Benet’s, Cambridge. It has pilaster strips up each angle, with long
and short work. The string-courses are merely square courses: each
storey recedes a little in width. The belfry windows are double, divided
by a mid-wall baluster and bracket; and there are plain windows again
over their spandrels. The intermediate surfaces were plastered. The
tower arch is of strangely rude design. The tower of Trinity Church,
Colchester, is peculiar, as being, to a great extent, of Roman
brick.[11] (Fig. 225).

[Illustration: Fig. 224.--St. Benet’s, Cambridge.]

Earls Barton tower is the most remarkable of its class, uniting the
profuse use of pilaster strips, diagonal strips, arched strips, long and
short work, baluster columns, and other characteristics of the style
(Fig. 226). I have noticed here that the majority of the arches are so
in form rather than in construction, some being cut out of the solid,
some built up with horizontal courses projecting one over the other, and
others, again, formed by a number of flat stones set on edge one behind
another, and the arched opening cut through them all.

Barnach Tower is something like it, though with less variety,--a more
Cyclopean look.[12] (Fig. 228).

[Illustration: Fig. 225.--Tower, Trinity Church, Colchester.]

The tower at Barton-upon-Humber bears considerable resemblance to that
of Earls Barton, though with less profusion of the usual characteristics
and less rudeness of construction. This tower is rendered remarkable by
having attached to it a very large and lofty western porch, apparently
of about the same date (Fig. 227).

Among the most remarkable towers, however, is that at Sompting, in
Sussex (Fig. 229). Its most striking characteristic is, that its sides
are each gabled, and it is roofed like the typical steeples on the
Rhine. I am told that an instance of this also existed at Flixton, in
Suffolk. The details at Sompting are somewhat elaborate.

[Illustration: Fig. 226.--Tower, Earls Barton.]

[Illustration: Fig. 227.--Tower and Western Porch, Barton-upon-Humber.]

The tower of Clapham Church, in Bedfordshire, is chiefly remarkable for
its great height and plainness. The chancel arch, of great simplicity,
here remains, as did one window of the chancel (a small bonnet-arched
opening like some in the tower itself) till destroyed recently by a
stupid builder.

One more building, I must notice. It has often been mentioned that our
Anglo-Saxon forefathers built largely of timber; and, strange to say,
after the lapse of more than eight centuries, we have one of their
timber structures remaining!

Edmund, king of East Anglia, who had been slain by the Danes in the
ninth century, had been canonised; and on the invasion by Sweyn, more
than a century later in 1011, his relics were removed from Bury St.
Edmund’s to London for security. On their being

[Illustration: Fig. 228.--Barnach Tower, Northamptonshire.]

carried back in 1013, an old register of Bury informs us, “he was also
sheltered near Aungre, where wooden chapel remains as a memorial unto
this day.”

[Illustration: Fig. 229.--Tower, Sompting, Sussex.]

This chapel still exists at Greensted, near Ongar (Figs. 230, 231). It
consists of cleft oak-trees grooved and tongued together by their edges,
and let into grooves in horizontal cills and heads. The exterior of the
trees was exposed on the outside of the church, the sapwood of which
having long since perished, the furrowed and gnarled heart is now seen,
presenting a most ancient and interesting appearance. It is more than
thirty years since I visited this most venerable relic. Since then it
has been repaired; but I trust that its antiquity has not been
compromised, and that it will long remain as a relic of the royal saint,
and a visible exponent of the old Anglo-Saxon verb _getymbrian_--to
build.

I must not, however, go on enumerating specimens: they will be found in
great numbers in several publications, as Mr. Bloxam’s _Principles of
Gothic Architecture_, Mr. Parker’s _Glossary_, Britton’s _Antiquities_,
and elsewhere; while very interesting articles have been written on
them by Mr. Freeman, Mr. Ayliffe Poole, Mr. Paley, and others. In my own
practice I every now and then fall in with minor specimens not mentioned
in books, and often walled up and hidden from view, to make way for
later work.

[Illustration: Fig. 230.--Chapel at Greensted, Essex.

_Taken from a drawing made in 1748._]

[Illustration: Fig. 231.--Plan of Chapel at Greensted, Essex.]

Fragments of Saxon crosses are frequent. They are usually covered with
that plaited ornament so frequent in the illuminations of the period.

In proof of their early age, we often find them imbedded, as mere
material, in Norman walls. In St. Peter’s, at Northampton, I found the
base of one of the Norman columns to be wrought out of a piece of one of
these crosses; and at Jarrow there are several portions of them built
into the tower, which was itself erected in the reign of the
Conqueror.[13]

Though this form of architecture spread over a period of some 470 years,
we have little or no means of classifying it into distinct divisions of
date. It would seem that the system of rapid change which characterises
the centuries succeeding the tenth had not then commenced, and that much
the same manner of building pervades long spaces of time.

On a conjectural view of the case, one would look, perhaps, for the
following divisions:--

1st. From the arrival of Augustine to the earlier devastations of the
Danes.

2nd. From the time of Alfred to that of Dunstan.

3rd. The period of the general establishment of Benedictine rule up to
that of the devastations of the Northmen under Sweyn.

4th. That from the accession of Canute to the Norman conquest.

Mr. Freeman divides the style into three:--

1st. The direct but rude imitations of Roman work, of which Brixworth is
an instance.

2nd. The developed Saxon manner, with its high towers, its pilastered
strips, and suggestion of imitated timber-work, as at Earls Barton, etc.

3rd. That in which Norman features are introduced or anticipated.

I may mention, however, that we have proofs, as at Deerhurst, which is
said to have been rebuilt in 1056, and elsewhere, that the style
remained with little modification to the last.

I shall show you in my next lecture (in which I propose to treat of the
earlier Norman buildings, erected by those who actually came over in the
days of the Conqueror or of his companions) that the two styles
overlapped; that there were pre-conquestal Norman and post-conquestal
Saxon buildings. I will, however, at present detain you no longer; and
if I have trespassed upon the rules of the Academy by giving a lecture
more on _archæology_ than on _art_, I must apologise on the ground that
I have treated of our own early efforts in architecture; of buildings
whose bold and archaic rudeness was so strangely accompanied by
exquisite skill in other arts,--as in illumination, in embroidery, in
jewellery; and the contemplation of which, to use the eloquent words of
Mr. Freeman, “Should raise a thrill of patriotism in the heart of every
genuine Englishman,” ... “whose barbaric grandeur breathes in its
fulness the spirit of England’s ancient days of freedom and isolation,”
and reminds us “of the long roll of our native saints and heroes; of
holy bishops and no less holy princes; of Ina, and Alfred, and
Athelstan; of Bede ... and the martyred Alphege; of Harold and Gurth,
and Leofwine; of St. Wolstan and Abbot Frederick; of the battle-axe of
Hereward and the martyr-block of Waltheof; and all the glorious train of
the ‘England of saints’ ere yet she bowed beneath the yoke of a foreign
lord.”




LECTURE XI.

Early Architecture in Great Britain--_continued_.

     Architecture of the Normans--St. Stephen’s at Caen--Canterbury
     Cathedral modelled on that of St. Stephen’s--Description of the
     Norman church built by the Confessor at Westminster _before the
     Conquest_--Instances of Anglo-Saxon architecture being used _after
     the Conquest_--Characteristics of the Norman style--Varieties of
     combination--Doors, windows, archways, arcades, and vaulting--Minor
     details--Mechanical ideal of a great Norman church--Vast scale and
     number of works undertaken by the early Norman builders.


My last lecture was rather antiquarian and historical than instructive
in any principles of art. It showed you how the Celtic inhabitants of
Ireland and Scotland worked out for themselves,--upon Romano-British
reminiscences, added to those of their own race,--a manner of building
which, though severely simple, was by no means to be despised; and also
how our own Anglo-Saxon forefathers went through a similar process,
working partly on the same foundations, but more directly on lessons
brought to them from Italy, though not always very well understood.

I might further have shown you (had it been my subject) how that both of
these races were far more successful in the more delicate arts of
embroidery, illuminated painting, and jewellery; and how little in their
practice of those decorative arts they trusted to any but their own
traditions.

I am not sure, too, whether in sculpture the pre-Norman English may not
have succeeded better than in architecture,--quaint and untechnical
though their productions were.

I fear, however, that we must admit that, in our own particular art of
architecture, we have little to learn from their buildings, however
interesting and quaintly picturesque; and that, though belonging to a
branch of the great round-arched family, they fail--almost of all
effort, certainly of any success--in developing that manner of building
into a style of art.

That fearful deluge, whose destructive waves swept with such
overwhelming fury over our land after the decease of the last--the
sainted--monarch of England’s older dynasty, may be likened to the
sudden breaking down of its banks by some mighty river, which, while it
sweeps from the earth the crops and the homesteads, leaving nothing but
devastation on its track, yet deposits, in subsiding, a film of foreign
substance upon the deluged soil, which adds to it a new productiveness,
and, in time, far more than compensates for the loss and havoc which
accompanied it.

So it was (at the least with architecture), after the Norman conquest.
The old manner of building which, during a course of nearly five
centuries, had failed to generate any development of a truly artistic
character, was swept once and for ever from the face of the earth, so
much so that some have denied its very existence; but there was
substituted for it a style which, if at first little less rude than its
predecessor, contained within itself the germs of a thoroughly sound
artistic system, which speedily germinated into a series of
developments, the most glorious which, perhaps, man has ever yet seen.

We have the clearest evidence, both from the statements of old writers,
and such as we derive from our own observation, that the style of
building introduced into England by the Normans, was viewed as a
distinctly new one--a “_novum genus compositionis_,” and in no degree as
a development of that which preceded it in this country.

How far the Norman style was distinct from the Romanesque of other parts
of the north of France is a question which it would be curious, though
difficult, to investigate. I think it might be shown that architecture,
both in France and other countries of Western Europe, made a sudden
forward start after the thousandth year of our era; possibly owing to
the relief experienced at finding the futility of the prevalent fears
that the world was to come to an end in that year. If such a
simultaneous impulse did take place, it would be especially felt by a
young and energetic race like the Normans, newly admitted into the
Christian European family, recently reclaimed from the savage barbarism
of Scandinavia, and grafted on to the old and comparatively civilised
stock of France. Unlike, too, the other portions of France, Normandy had
lost, in all probability, a large proportion of her ancient churches by
the devastation of this very race while yet pagan; and nothing would be
more natural than that, when Christianised, settled down, and instructed
in the arts of their new neighbour, they would feel a special impulse
towards repairing the effects of their own devastations, and would,
while doing so, take a vigorous course in developing the manner of
building in which they had been so newly instructed. I would not,
however, wish to claim for the Normans any great degree of originality
in architecture. Different districts of France each possessed their own
local variety of Romanesque, though all clearly of one family; and
Normandy, like the others, had its own variety, and that a vigorous one;
and to ourselves the most interesting, as having been transplanted into
our own country and become the parent of all our architectural
developments. What was the form of Romanesque which prevailed in
Neustria before it was overrun by the Northmen and transformed into
Normandy, I think we have no means of judging,[14] the relics of its
buildings being so few and fragmentary as to offer no distinct evidence;
but just as the converted Northmen in the days of Canute were in this
country the earnest restorers and builders of churches, so did those who
had settled in France become the vigorous promoters of the art which
they had once destroyed; while, by a remarkable coincidence, they were
the means of bringing over in a succeeding generation to those of their
own and kindred race in England the developments which they had
generated under more favourable circumstances and guidance in the
country which had for a century and a half adopted them into its own
family.

If, however, the more vigorous pursuit of the building arts in France
dates, as I have conjectured, from the opening of the eleventh century,
and was contemporary with the revived impulse in this country under
Canute, it follows that the mode of building introduced by the Normans
was not only to the English, but in reality, a _novum genus
compositionis_.

Quite in accordance with this is the character of what we call in this
country Early Norman. Had Norman architecture been fully matured before
its transplantation into England, we should not recognise its earlier
productions by evidences founded upon rudeness and immaturity; yet such
is unquestionably the case. Noble and vigorous as are the works of the
Normans of the early days of their occupation of England, they
undoubtedly bear evidences of an early and archaic stage of their form
of art; and, even in Normandy itself, we do not find buildings of great
architectural importance of dates much antecedent to those of the first
structures built by the invaders of England. Early Norman in England
would still be Early Norman, if in Normandy; so that we may consider the
style, though generated on French soil, to have run the greater part of
its course _pari passu_ in both countries.

The investigations made and recently published by M. Bouet, of Caen,
into the architectural history and changes of the abbey church of St.
Stephen, founded in that city by the Conqueror, fully bear out this
view, and show that the church, as built by William, was a very
different and much more archaic structure than that which we now see; a
large proportion of the more prominent features of which are proved to
be the overlayings of later, though still Romanesque, times.[15]

As it is not my purpose, generally, to illustrate my description of the
Norman style by its productions on its native soil, I shall select the
church just named as the _point de départ_, by means of which I shall
transfer my consideration of the style from Normandy to England. There
are several churches of earlier date than this, such as parts of the
abbey churches of Jumièges and Bernay,[16] but St. Stephen’s is clearly
the great connecting link. In the first place, it was built by the
Conqueror, and was in actual progress when he invaded England; and, in
the second place, Lanfranc, the first abbot of St. Stephen’s, which was
built under his direction, was also the first metropolitan of England
appointed under the Norman dynasty, and immediately on his assumption of
the see of Canterbury,--only four years after William’s arrival,--he
commenced the rebuilding of the cathedral (then lying in ruins), after
the almost precise design of his own abbey church at Caen. This abbey
church, then, at Caen, and the metropolitan church of England, were
built under the influence of the same monarch and at the same time; for,
though St. Stephen’s was first begun, it would appear that Canterbury
was finished first: they were built under the direction of the same
ecclesiastical head, and in all leading features were on the same
design, their plans being absolutely identical. The only difference of
importance was the existence at Canterbury of the crypt, on which the
choir was raised by many steps,--a reminiscence of the church built by
St. Augustine, described in my last lecture, while such did not exist at
St. Stephen’s. Both churches had naves of eight bays in length, in
addition to which both had a western façade, with two flanking towers.

The transepts of both churches were of two unequal bays, and the outer
bay of each had a gallery all across it, supported by a massive pillar
(as at Winchester); in each there was in both transepts an apsidal
chapel repeated on the triforium level; and though both have lost their
original choirs, the probability is that both were of two bays long,
with the addition of a simple apse. Professor Willis has shown that
their very dimensions were nearly identical.

It has been discovered that at St. Stephen’s the western towers were a
subsequent addition, though so early that little difference can be
observed in their details. I judge from this that the towers at
Canterbury were a deviation from the design of St. Stephen’s, which was
at once rectified by adding them to the prototypic building.

The piers of St. Stephen’s are oblong masses, divided at each end into
groups of three large shafts. To these are added, on the side facing the
nave, shafts, alternately single and triple, which ran up to the roof.
The triforium storey is almost a repetition, to a less height, of the
main arcade; though, where it passes the western towers, it is divided
into two sub-arches by a single shaft. Mr. Parker, whose excellent paper
on the subject will be found among the Transactions of the Institute of
British Architects, seems to think that the triforium floor was of
timber, and the aisle unvaulted. Professor Willis was under the
impression that it had had no floor, but that the two storeys were
united, as is now the case at Rochester. This, I think, seems disproved
by Mr. Parker’s paper, and by M. Bouet’s drawings, which show a doorway
opening into the triforium storey. This storey is at present vaulted
above with a half-barrel vault. This Mr. Parker thinks an addition; but
M. Bouet shows a remnant of it embedded in the east wall of the
transept, where the old choir aisle has been removed, which seems to
suggest its being original.

The greatest alteration which the older portions of the church have
undergone is the addition of vaulting to the nave and the entire
transformation of the design of the clerestory in a later Norman style,
which, to a casual observer, seems to work in so well with the older
parts as to appear original. M. Bouet and Mr. Parker have found the
remnants of the original arcade,--which were uniform in height and
incompatible with vaulting,--both in the nave and transepts, proving
that vaulting was not contemplated in the first erection.

I am, however, rather anticipating my history, and must fall back upon a
somewhat earlier period; for, though Canterbury Cathedral was probably
the first church erected in England after the Norman Conquest, it was
nevertheless by no means the first Norman church; for it was in a Norman
minster that the Conqueror had, full four years before the works at
Canterbury were begun, received at the hands of an English archbishop
the crown of England.

You will remember that as early as 1013 Ethelred and Emma, the parents
of King Edward the Confessor, had fled with their children from the fury
of King Sweyn to the court of Richard le Bon, duke of Normandy. It
followed that the education and tastes of the future king were Norman;
and long subsequently, after he ascended the throne, England so swarmed
with Normans as not only to excite discontent but to give occasion to
civil war. It was, then, natural that, when King Edward determined
(about 1050) to refound the Abbey of Westminster, he should adopt for
his new work a Norman rather than an English design. We accordingly find
it spoken of by William of Malmesbury (writing in the following century)
as “That church which he, the first in England, had erected in that mode
of composition which now nearly all emulate in its costly expenditure.”
Matthew Paris,--a century later,--says that Edward “was buried in the
church which he had constructed in that new mode of composition from
which many of those afterwards constructing churches, taking example,
had emulated it in its costly expenditure.” These notices by men of whom
the one knew most, and the other might have known all, of the Norman
churches in England, are sufficient to prove the Confessor’s church to
have been not of Anglo-Saxon but of Norman architecture; and, as they
thought, the earliest of its style in this country.

Whether that erected by Earl Harold at Waltham, and consecrated in 1060,
was in the same style, we cannot ascertain. His proclivities were
certainly not Norman, yet he may have adopted the fashion just coming
into vogue, though we find that other churches built nearly as late, and
some even subsequent to the Conquest, still retained the older and more
national character.

The church built by the Confessor at Westminster is thus described by a
contemporary writer:--

“The house (_domus_) of the principal altar, constructed with very lofty
vaultings, is compassed round with squared (stone) work uniformly
jointed: the aisle[17] around the building itself is shut off by a
double tier of arches from either side, the continuity of the work being
firmly consolidated in every direction.

“Further, the cross (crossing) of the temple which would enclose the
choir of those singing the praises of God in its midst, and by its
two-fold support on either side would sustain the lofty apex of the
central tower, rises at first simply with a low and massive vaulting; it
then swells out with several staircases, skilfully ascending with many
windings; then, with a plain wall, it runs up to the roof, which is of
wood, carefully covered with lead.

“Below, however, and above are arranged in order chapels (_domicilia_),
which are to be consecrated through their altars in commemoration of
apostles, martyrs, confessors, and virgins.

“This multiplicity of a work so vast was, however, begun at such a
distance from the east of the ancient temple, that even some part of the
nave which was to lie between them, intervened with ample space, lest
the brothers occupying it should be interrupted from the service of
Christ.”

Another contemporary writer describes the church as “upheld by diverse
columns, and vaulted everywhere with multiplicity of arches.”

From these accounts we may gather:--

1st. That the church was apsidal.

2d. That the aisles were of two storeys, and each of them vaulted.

3d. That there was a lofty central tower under which the choir sat, and
that this had winding staircases, and was covered with a timber roof and
leaded.

4th. We further learn that the church contained numerous chapels and
altars placed both below and above, and that in the eyes of one who had,
perhaps, lived to see several of the new Norman churches commenced, it
appeared a work of vast size and great multiplicity.

Lastly, we find that it was placed so far to the east of the ancient
church, that not only were the services in that church never
discontinued, but that a portion of the nave of the new church might be
erected. The latter proves, of course, that the entire nave was not
completed by the Confessor himself, as he died within a few days after
the consecration.

A writer of the thirteenth century, in a poetical Life of the Confessor,
thus describes his works at Westminster:--

“Now he laid the foundations of the church with large square blocks of
grey stone; its foundations were deep; the front towards the east he
makes round; the stones are very strong and hard; in the centre rises a
tower, and two at the west front, and fine and large bells he hangs
there. The pillars and entablatures are rich without and within, at the
bases and capitals; the work rises grand and royal; sculptured are the
stones and storied the windows; and when he finished the work, with
lead the church completely he covers. He makes there a cloister, a
chapter-house in front towards the east, vaulted and round, ...
refectory, dormitory, and offices, in due order.”

This description adds to what I have before stated, that there were two
western towers, though these were not really erected till later, but
were, nevertheless, in all probability a part of the first design. It
tells us also of the monastic buildings.

Of the scale of this first Anglo-Norman church we have some indirect
means of judging. In the first place, it is unlikely that a church of
royal foundation, built in juxtaposition with the palace, and intended
as the burial-place of its founder, built also in substitution for a
pilgrimage which he had vowed to make, should be other than of similar
scale to the great churches erected at the time in the country whence he
borrowed his architecture. In confirmation of this we have several
evidences, not necessary here to state, that it differed but little in
scale from the present church; indeed, had it been otherwise, the
succeeding historians would hardly have spoken of it in the terms which
they make use of.

As to its architectural character, we have little to guide us. We have
the extensive substructure of the dormitory and the lower part of the
refectory. From these we find that the offices were of the plainest
variety of Norman; indeed, the pillars of the first-named structure are
of the very extreme of massive simplicity, and the shafts of the
refectory arcading have cushion capitals of the most normal type.

We have recently discovered, beneath the pavement of the altar space,
the bases of two of the great piers of the Sanctuary: from which we find
that they were clustered, not unlike those at St. Stephen’s at Caen. The
bases consist of a double hollow, precisely like one from that church.
The work is by no means so rough as that common in early Norman
buildings; a circumstance which I have noticed in several pre-conquestal
works.

Having noticed this one building in which Norman architecture was used
in England before the Conquest, I will mention one or two instances of
Anglo-Saxon architecture being used subsequently to that event.

I refer especially to two churches (St. Mary’s and St. Peter’s, at
Gowts,) in the lower town of Lincoln. This portion of the city did not
exist till after the Conquest; when, owing to the expulsion of many of
the inhabitants of the old, or upper, city to make way for the Norman
Castle and Cathedral, they were obliged to build below the hill, where
they founded these two churches; building them in their own old English
manner, while the castle and minster were being erected by the Normans
in conformity with their own taste above. There are a number of towers
between Lincoln and the Humber which correspond so closely in style with
these as to lead one to assign to them the same date. Nothing can more
manifestly prove the distinctness of the two styles than that the most
marked church of the period was built by the Norman-loving Anglo-Saxon
king in Norman architecture before the Conquest, and that old-fashioned
English people still built in the Anglo-Saxon manner in the days of the
Norman Conqueror.

It is time now that we should consider what were the distinguishing
characteristics of the Norman style.

According to Mr. Petit and Mr. Fergusson, the Norman is rather an early
stage of Gothic than strictly Romanesque; and, though this may be said
to be rather a question of nomenclature than of distinctive principle, I
am inclined to think there is much real truth in it. I would rather,
however, put it thus: that, among the many branches of the great
Romanesque tree, this was one,--as the Anglo-Saxon was not one,--of
those which contained the intrinsic elements of the future Gothic style.
I gave my reasons, in one of my earlier lectures[18] (while not desiring
a change of nomenclature), for holding the completed round-arch style to
be, in a certain sense, one with the earlier-pointed, and for rather
favouring Mr. Fergusson’s custom of calling them respectively
round-arched and pointed-arched Gothic. It is better, however, in an
historical sketch, to view each phase on its own bearing, and not to
judge of it by anticipation of its subsequent results.

Norman architecture, then, judging of it from its principles, and
throwing aside imperfections resulting from its development occurring in
comparatively rude times, may, in the first place, be said to be an
almost perfect carrying out into a style of art the arcuated system of
construction; using, also, the simplest and most obvious form of arch,
the semicircle. Roman buildings, when divested,--as in the case of
aqueducts,--of Grecian or trabeated accompaniments, displayed often a
perfect system of arched construction; but, in such works, one cannot
say that it had been developed into a style of art.

To effect this, both the arch and its supports and accompaniments must
be moulded into artistic elements; their natural crudenesses softened;
their mere normal character relieved; and each part subjected to a
system of decoration suited to its proper character and conditions. The
parts, too, which have been thus dealt with, must be studied as to their
grouping. They must not be viewed as isolated objects, but as parts of
an architectural work; each contributing to the beauty and consistency
of the whole; and that also, by such combinations as are dictated by the
varied suggestions arising from the purposes and demands of the
buildings of which they form parts.

All this required time; and the length of time was, no doubt, increased
by the rudeness of the ages during which the process had been going on.

Among the earliest approaches to so reasonable a result, the Lombard
style had taken, perhaps, the lead in Western Europe; and, during the
days when the three Othos governed Northern Italy as well as Germany,
the good seed had spread from Lombardy into Germany, and it there grew
into an almost perfect development.

Somewhat similarly, a well-considered development seems to have
originated in Central France, and spread towards the north. Probably
these two varieties may have come in contact, and in some degree
influenced each other; for the early Norman architects, though mainly
developing upon French models, appear to have been acquainted with those
of the Rhine. However this may be, it is certain that they developed
for themselves a variety of Romanesque at once eminently reasonable, and
susceptible of highly artistic treatment and combinations.

The elements of such a style are often not, as taken singly, peculiar to
itself, but may be found in other and in earlier works: it is the
aggregation of many such elements, and their judicious and artistic
utilisation that constitutes the merits of a style.

Among the most important of these may be placed the _sub-ordination_ of
arches, by means of which, instead of going square through the thickness
of a wall, they recede in orders or arched rims, each narrower than that
above it, so as to give the entire arch or section of alternate salient
and receding angles. This is the primary element; and it at once
produces the second,--the breaking of the section of the bearing pier
into a similar form to that of the arch. This, in the Anglo-Saxon style,
was hardly known; while in the Norman it is the key-note.

At St Alban’s, where the unmanagable nature of the material,--the Roman
brick,--rendering finished architecture unattainable, we find these two
principles supplying all architectural requirements, and producing
results certainly rude, but not unpleasing in their effect. This
building is often said to partake of “Saxon” character. I think the very
reverse of this; for the one thing to which it trusts for effect is that
which scarcely exists in Anglo-Saxon buildings, while it is the leading
principle in Norman ones. This error is the natural result of looking to
rudeness of workmanship and homeliness of material, instead of the
principles of design, as the evidences of early style.

The next principle is merely the resultant of those already named. It is
the decoration by mouldings of the salient divisions of the arch and the
substitution of decorative shafts for those of the pier.

These principles do not necessarily accompany one another. An arch-order
may be moulded or otherwise decorated, while the corresponding
pier-order may remain square, the two being parted by an impost; or the
decorations of the arch may, without the intervening impost, be
continued through the pier; or, again, a shaft may be substituted for
the pier-order, while the arch-order remains plain. The above
principles, thus variable in their application, supply the most marked
features in the perfected Romanesque style, nor can any arched
architecture be perfect without them. To illustrate their effects let us
take a doorway of the older English period, and contrast it with a
Norman doorway.

[Illustration: Fig. 232. Saxon Door Jamb.

Fig. 233.--Norman Door Jamb and Arch.]

The Anglo-Saxon doorway would, in all probability, be an arched opening
straight through the wall, the door hanging against the inner face (Fig.
232). It may or may not be relieved by a pilaster strip on either side,
and an impost to crown the pier, leaving it still a very primitive and
inartistic composition, with the door itself dealt with as if it had
been forgotten and no provision made for it. We will suppose the Norman
doorway to be of the same width and height with the Saxon one (Fig.
233). Its reveal, to begin with, is reduced to perhaps one-fifth of the
thickness of the wall, and the door itself placed at such a distance
from the exterior as the architectural grade aimed at may dictate, and
this distance is divided into so many orders or recesses (each some 8 or
10 inches in depth in a moderate doorway) as may be thought best. These
arched rims or orders may be either left plain or may be moulded, or
otherwise decorated at pleasure. The jambs of such a doorway may be
treated in several different ways. The simplest is to make the jambs
continuous with the arch, with or without the interposition of an
impost. A second mode is to substitute a shaft or decorative column, for
one or all of the orders, excepting, generally, that with which the door
itself comes in contact. Add to this an outer or drip moulding to sever
the arch from the wall face, and you have the elements of a really
well-considered and artistic doorway. Internally, the remaining
thickness of the wall is arched in another order (either square or
sloping), which arch has to spring at a higher level to avoid the
catching against it of the door while opening.

A doorway thus constructed may be clothed with what decorations you
think good; and, if you are working in the Pointed style, the principle
applies just as well as in Norman; indeed, we have here the principles
of nearly all good doorways, whether Romanesque or Gothic (Fig. 234).

[Illustration: Fig. 234.]

I have already described the application of the principle to an archway,
which in its elementary form is merely the outer jamb of a doorway
repeated on both sides of the wall. A shaft or demi-shaft may be
substituted for the central order, or, if the wall be a little thicker,
this shaft may be doubled; or, if thicker still, there may be two orders
on either side of the wall besides the central one, or other obvious
combinations may be made, rendering the archway, instead of a mere crude
opening, an artistic composition, though trusting for its effect to a
perfectly reasonable constructive system.

I will now suppose two such openings brought so closely together as to
leave only a short space of wall between. We have then two such systems
of recesses brought into close contact, making either a plain pier of
comparatively sightly form, such as those at St. Alban’s; or, if
shafted, we at once obtain the great feature of Gothic architecture, the
clustered pier.

In cases where it was preferred to support the adjoining springings of
two arches upon a single column, though the arch was sometimes left
undivided, the same system of sub-orders was more usual. In this case if
the abacus remained square, its angles, being unoccupied, would present
a clumsy appearance. This led to the breaking of the capital into
orders, though resting upon a single shaft, or the abacus was made round
or octagonal.

Such a column as this often alternated between two clustered piers,
making an extremely agreeable group.

The developments I have described--so logical in their motive that one
fancies that one might have originated them all by a mere process of
inductive reasoning--supply nine-tenths of all the elements of the
perfected Romanesque style.

Extend, now, the same principles to a vaulted space which we have
hitherto applied only to an arcaded wall, and we gain another great
instalment of the elements of the style by a simple process of
reasoning.

[Illustration: Fig. 235.

Fig. 236.]

The normal form of groined or intersecting vaulting,--the simplest
manner in which a large space may be arched over in moderate spans,--is,
by the two or more intersecting vaults, springing directly from a square
pier (Fig. 235). Now, this is not only inartistic, but is bad in
construction. The line of intersection is necessarily weak, and the
vault requires aid to make it perfect in construction; and this can only
be given it in the form of increased thickness, which is at once
obtained by altering the form of the pier from a square to a cross form,
and applying to the vault the same principle of divided orders as we
have done before to arches (Fig. 236); only that, in this case the upper
order is a vault, and the lower one only an arched rib coming in to aid
the vault. The groined vault is thus divided into compartments, and
beauty and strength at once provided for. This elementary form may be
decorated in a multitude of ways.

The mere addition of an impost and a base to the pier does much to
relieve its plainness. We may, however, as in the case of arches,
substitute shafts for the divisions of the pier, or double shafts where
the ribs are wide; or we may, instead of amplifying the forms of the
pier, concentrate it to a column, from whose capital the ribs spring, as
we have already seen in case of the double arch.

When groining springs from a wall, nearly the same system applies,
excepting that one division only of the pier is needed instead of all
four. Thus the simplest provision is a mere projecting pilaster,
carrying the cross ribs, the wall itself taking the place of the lateral
ones. This pilaster may be converted into a shaft or a double shaft, or
the rib may be amplified by a central semi-roll moulding, and the whole
carried by a triple shaft or other combinations, or a corbel substituted
for the pilaster or group of shafts. Thus we have vaulting reduced to a
principle which, however plain, is at once artistic and constructionally
good, and is susceptible of all degrees of ornamentation.

What I have said of doors applies equally to windows, subject to some
modifications arising from their practical requirements. The simplest
form of an arched opening, going square through the wall, is eminently
unsuited to a window; and this is so obvious that it has rarely been
used at any period, for the square edges of a thick wall evidently
prevent the light from diffusing itself in the interior.

The most favourable forms are those in which the jambs are sloped,
either directly from the exterior inwards, or from some intermediate
point, both inwards and outwards, so as to give the freest scope for the
rays of light. In this respect I have nothing to say against the forms
customary in the previous style.[19]

The Norman windows are of great variety. The simplest, which is
prevalent in very homely buildings (as may be seen in many extremely
humble churches on the cliff between Dover and Deal), is an opening with
no external recess, but splaying at some 45 degrees inward, the glass
being flush with the exterior. From this we have every variety of
architectural grade; first, a chamfer or moulding added to the exterior;
then, two orders, plain or moulded; or a shaft may be substituted for
the outer order in the jamb, or the same repeated, as in doorways.
Internally, the thickness of the walls continues to be splayed so as to
diffuse the light, though in buildings of a high architectural class,
mouldings or divided orders (with or without shafts) may enrich the
inner angle, or may even take the place of the splay altogether.

In domestic windows two or more openings are often used externally,
divided by a little column, the whole being internally united into a
single opening. These are sometimes comprised on the exterior under a
single arch to increase the architectural effect.[20] The same is also
used for belfries and other positions where use dictates it.

I have now shown you that doors, windows, archways, arcades, and
vaulting were generated, as to their architectural treatment, simply by
the exercise of logical reasoning.

In the general treatment of the exterior of a building the same
prevailed. The walls, being thick, needed little buttressing, and this
little was supplied, and the flatness of the walls at the same time
relieved, by a sort of pilaster or slightly projecting pier placed at
reasonable intervals, which were united under the eaves, in many cases,
by a row of corbels. The walls were further relieved by projecting
base-courses, and string-courses under the window cills or elsewhere;
and, in buildings of a higher class, by decorative arcading or other
methods of raising its architectural character.

In all the foregoing particulars, it will be observed that I have stated
nothing but what could be arrived at by simple and almost abstract
reasoning, almost apart from anything which, strictly speaking, belongs
to style of art. The results, indeed, apply equally to all the more
perfect varieties of Romanesque, and follow from the mere thinking out
of the subject; and if we desired to strike out some new variety of
arcuated architecture, we could not do better than start from a point
thus logically arrived at. To say that these are the leading
characteristics of the Norman style, is saying at once too much and too
little; for none of these characteristics would distinguish it from the
Romanesque of Central France or Germany, which possess them equally with
the Norman, while the latter certainly does possess features of its own,
which would so distinguish it. These consist, however, for the most
part, in the decorative details, and in the general composition of the
buildings, but more particularly the latter; for, if the Rhenish,
Central French, and Norman buildings were to exchange details, their
composition would still distinguish them at a single glance, and each
would be appropriated to its respective district in spite of any doubt
about its details. The essential and logically derived elements are the
same in all; the details, though united by a common bond of sentiment
and feeling, differ in a certain degree,--while the customary forms of
composition, though by no means contradictory, still differ so much as
to leave no doubt about their being three, though evidently sister
styles, or, rather, local varieties of the same great style.

Two very important features which Norman possesses, in common with other
varieties of Romanesque, are, first, that, when a column is used for
bearing weight, its diameter is made proportionate rather to its load
than to its height; and, secondly, that columns are used also in a
purely decorative capacity, and their diameter, in that case, is simply
such as is best proportioned to their position; and most usually to the
size of the arch-order they have, apparently, or really to carry.

We will now go into minor details.

The first purely decorative features which we may imagine to have been
introduced,--if the logical scheme I have been supposing had been
strictly followed out,--would be the base-course of a wall, the impost
to sever the pier from the arch, and the drip, or label, to draw the
line between the arch and the wall. These mouldings in their elementary
forms are alike. In Anglo-Saxon they were usually square courses (Fig.
237); in Norman, their simple form is the same with the angle cut off
(Fig. 238).

[Illustration: Fig. 237.]

[Illustration: Fig. 238.]

This form for the impost and the label was adopted also, very usually,
for string-courses; but, in all positions, it was soon relieved by
additional forms, as the double chamfer, the quirk, the quirk and
hollow, and the round and hollow, or the cyma (Fig. 239).

[Illustration: Fig. 239.]

The primary idea of a capital to a decorative shaft is that of a cubical
block over which the impost returns. It is, in fact, the upper course of
the square portion of the pier for which the shaft has been substituted,
or out of the substance of which it is cut (Fig. 240).

The object, therefore, to be kept in view in designing the capital, is
to devise the best method or methods of bringing about a transition from
the cylindrical shaft to the square impost or abacus. The simplest form
used in early Norman work is little more than the mathematical solution
of the problem, which would be the frustum of an inverted cone
intersected by the faces of the cube.

[Illustration: Fig. 240.]

The elliptical sections thus generated being unsightly, they would soon
be converted into semicircles; and as these will not fit themselves to
the true cone, a group of portions of conoids is generated, meeting in
an indented angle, such as we always find in these caps, excepting in
the very earliest. At no period, however, were the reminiscences of the
Corinthian capital wholly ignored; and we accordingly, even in the
earliest examples (and perhaps as frequently in them as in later ones)
find a rude imitation of its form.[21] At other times we find the block
covered with carved scrollwork; and at others, again, the extreme
simplicity is obtained by a mere portion of a cone or a simple moulding
intervening between the shaft and the abacus, as in the Confessor’s
buildings at Westminster, and in the crypt at Winchester.[22] The bases
consisted usually of a moulding following the curve of the shaft, and
resting upon a square plinth, beneath which was a sub-base. The
mouldings of the base were very various: they seem to have been
suggested by the varieties of the Roman base; but they often take other
forms, as in the Confessor’s work at Westminster, where we have a mere
splay and a double hollow. The orders of arches were sometimes relieved
by being cut into large rolls; or the lower order in archways had a
massive demi-roll attached to it. The roll was soon accompanied by a
hollow, and these varieties almost exhaust the list of mouldings in the
earlier examples, though we shall see that they subsequently increased
into great multiplicity and beauty. Mouldings became, moreover, at an
early date enriched. Thus we find the chamfers of a string or label
relieved with the billet or short piece of roll left projecting from
them at intervals. These chamfers are also enriched with chevrons of
slight depth, such as masons sometimes impress in mortar with the point
of their trowel. These simple ornaments, as we shall presently see, soon
increased into endless variety.

The figure-sculpture of the period was of extreme uncouthness; often so
much so as to be nearly unintelligible, though rapidly improving as the
style advanced. The tympana of the doorways (which were sometimes filled
in to the square, and sometimes to a low segmental arch line) were often
filled with sculpture in slight relief. Heads were used as corbels
(placed in a hollow moulding), and such rude art was introduced in other
positions which might suggest it.

Soon it became frequent to relieve plain surfaces--whether to
arch-orders, or elsewhere--with ornaments in very slight relief usually
known as “surface ornaments,” which had the advantage of imparting
decoration without disturbing essential forms. Of this, however, we
shall see abundance as we proceed.

Having now traced out, by a system of rational induction, the essential
elements of the style, we will proceed to some of the varieties of
combination.

Let us take, in the first instance, a portion of the nave or choir of a
church.

If this be unaisled and unvaulted, it is a very simple affair. Windows
at a reasonable height, dealt with agreeably to the architectural grade
of the building,--probably a base-course, a string beneath the cills,
and possibly pilaster buttresses between the windows, and a corbel-table
uniting the same under the eaves.

If vaulted with a wagon-vault (as, for instance, St. Cormac’s Chapel, at
Cashel),[23] the walls must be higher, and, it may be, the dead space
which this occasions externally may be decorated by arcading. If,
however, it is groined, the difficulty disappears.

Again, an aisled but unvaulted nave is of simple construction, but if
the aisle be vaulted (unless, indeed, it be a mere demi-vault, which in
this country is very rare), a greater complication is brought into
existence. The groining requires that the aisle wall shall be fully as
high as the crown of the arches between the aisles and the nave; and, as
the aisle roof demands some reasonable height, it follows that there
must be a considerable space of wall above the arches. This may be dealt
with in several ways. If the nave be unvaulted, it is a blank space, or
may be pierced by an arcade or other openings. If the nave is groined
without a clerestory, the space is partly occupied by the springers of
the vaulting, and the intervals may be pierced. If there is a
clerestory, the space becomes what we call (though erroneously), a
_triforium_; or (whether there be a clerestory or not), it may be made
more of and utilised by raising the aisle walls sufficiently to convert
it into a second storey or gallery to the aisle (Fig. 241).

[Illustration: Fig. 241.]

We possess a most complete instance of such an arrangement (though
without a clerestory), in the chapel of the Tower of London,[24] where
this space is made a gallery, covered with a wagon-vault and opens by a
second tier of arches into the nave, which is itself covered by a
similar vault. Had clerestory windows been in this case desired, the
only change requisite would have been to groin the central space and the
gallery, instead of giving them plain vaults, and we should then, with a
trifle more height, have had a model, on a small scale, of the perfected
arrangement of a vaulted and aisled church. Most, however, of our Norman
churches in England are imperfect in two particulars as compared with
this ideal. They have no groining to the central space, nor any vaulting
to the gallery over the aisle. Several, as Durham and Lindisfarne, had
the former, and Gloucester, and perhaps Tewkesbury, the latter; but I
know of no existing church in England, nor of any perhaps of very early
date, even in Normandy, which has both. The Tower chapel is the nearest
approach; and, strange to say, the pre-conquestal example at
Westminster appears (if I read the description aright) to have had all
these features complete, the central space being vaulted, and the aisle
also vaulted in two storeys. Such was often the case in Central France,
even at an early date, as we see in the Church of St. Stephen at Nevers,
erected about 1063, where we find groined aisles, aisle-galleries with
the demi-vault, a clerestory, and above it a wagon-vault to the nave.

The churches at Nôtre Dame du Pont at Clermont, Issoire, and some others
of about the same date in Auvergne, are one point less complete, having
all the features I have enumerated excepting only the clerestory: nor do
I know that there is any specimen so complete and of early date in
Normandy, so that King Edward’s church seems to have gone ahead of its
types in Normandy, and its model not to have been reached by its
successors in England.

Those principles of combination being attained, it was easy to carry
them out into a complete building.

A nave, such as I have described, may be either continued, with the
intervention of a chancel arch, into the choir, and terminated by an
apse; or two such ranges of buildings may be made to intersect, the
crossing space being surmounted by a central tower, supported on four
lofty arches and by massive piers. The east end would usually be
terminated by an apse; the cross building, or transept, by gables; and
the nave perhaps, by a gable flanked by two towers, which terminated its
aisles, or projected beyond them. Transepts may have two aisles, as at
Winchester and Ely; one, as at Durham and Peterborough; or none, as at
Canterbury, St. Alban’s, and Norwich. In the latter case, apsidal
chapels would probably project from its eastern face; and, if the choir
aisle runs round the apse, similar chapels may open out of it.

This gives us the complete mechanical ideal of a great Norman church,
though numerous are the varieties which it is capable of assuming.

I have occupied your time so long in my elementary investigation of the
style that I must defer till my next lecture any attempt to describe its
actual productions.

I will only now say that the vast scale and the endless number of the
architectural works undertaken, and, in most cases carried out to
completion by the early Norman builders, is such as to fill the mind
with astonishment, when we contemplate them. Nearly every cathedral and
great abbey was rebuilt on a stupendous scale; new cathedrals and new
abbeys founded; and churches of all grades from these vast temples down
to the smallest village church erected throughout the length and breadth
of the country; while castles of the most portentous magnitude and
prodigious solidity rose in all directions; the one class of building
appearing to propitiate the divine aid, and the other to defy human
opposition, as if the kingdoms both of heaven and earth were to “suffer
violence,” and “the violent to take them by force.”

Few periods, probably, in the world’s history have been marked by the
construction of buildings more multitudinous and more vast. Their
architecture, as Mr. Freeman remarks, “majestic and awful rather than
beautiful, no style is more truly religious or more imbued with the
spirit and position of the church” (and one may add of the State) “in
its own day,” nor has any age “produced structures whose number, size,
splendour, and richness bear more honourable testimony to the zeal and
bounty of their founders.”




LECTURE XII.

Early Architecture in Great Britain--_Continued_.

     Chapel of St. John, Tower of London--St. Alban’s Abbey--St.
     Stephen’s at Caen--Cathedrals of Winchester, Ely, London,
     Rochester, and Norwich--Abbey Church at Bury St.
     Edmund’s--Gloucester Cathedral--Tewkesbury Abbey--Cathedrals of
     Worcester and Durham--Waltham Abbey--Christchurch, Hants.


Having now given a general outline of the intrinsic principles of Norman
architecture, I will proceed to offer a few brief descriptions of some
of its earlier creations, or rather of a selection of such of them as
have come down to our own day, or of which we have sufficient
information to make the consideration of them profitable.

[Illustration: Fig. 242.--St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London.]

I have already spoken at some length of Lanfranc’s Cathedral at
Canterbury, and of its identity, in general design, with the Conqueror’s
Abbey Church of St. Etienne, at Caen. I shall have to revert to this
cathedral more than once in describing additions and alterations of
later date; but there are no remains of Lanfranc’s original work of
sufficient importance to warrant me in occupying your time upon it.

[Illustration: Fig. 243.--St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London.

View looking East.]

I have also alluded to the chapel in the Tower of London: of this most
perfect and typical example of the very early Norman, I exhibit some
illustrations. Severely plain, as befitted the chapel of a fortress, it
is, nevertheless, as complete and as well designed a building as could
well be produced. Apsidal, with continuous aisles, in two storeys, and
vaulted throughout the central space and the upper aisle by unribbed
wagon-vaults, becoming in the former case semi-domical on reaching the
apse, and the lower aisle groined, it is more perfect in ideal than the
choir of any English or Norman church that I am acquainted with of its
period, and is parallel in this respect with the great churches of
Auvergne, only needing the clerestory to render it a complete type; a
model of a perfect choir, with an entire absence (excepting in the
capitals of the columns) of ornamental detail. Several of these capitals
are like those which prevail in St. Etienne at Caen, and which appear in
Remigius’s work at Lincoln; they are a dim reminiscence of the
Corinthian capital, with a cross-formed block representing the rosette
in the abacus; for, be it always remembered, that the abacus of a
Corinthian capital was not the prototype of that of a Romanesque one, in
which a substantial impost is superimposed upon the delicate abacus of
the classic column. I give drawings from Caen (Fig. 248), from the Tower
(Figs. 245, 246, 247), and from Lincoln (Fig. 249), to explain the
identity and peculiar characteristics of these capitals. The common
cushion capital is also freely used.

[Illustration: Fig. 244.--St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London.

South Aisle.]

I will next go to St. Alban’s; not that I can distinctly assert it to be
the next in date; but because it stood first in rank among abbeys, as
Canterbury among cathedrals; because it was built by the friend and
companion of Lanfranc; and because the crudeness of its material, by
divesting it of all decorative features, renders it a more purely
typical and elementary example than any other we possess.

Founded only ten years after the Dioclesian persecution, when St. Alban
became the proto-martyr of Britain,--destroyed during the invasions of
Pagan Saxons, and refounded as an abbey during the last years of the
eighth century by Offa, king of Mercia,--the church of St. Alban had
become famous throughout Christendom.

[Illustration: Fig. 245.--St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London. Capital.]

The two last Anglo-Saxon abbots having determined on its reconstruction,
had incurred great labour in excavating among the ruins of the adjacent
Roman city of Verulam to procure materials for the work; but a dreadful
famine, followed by the Norman invasion, had prevented the realisation
of their intentions.

[Illustration: St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London. Capitals.

Fig. 246. Fig. 247.]

In the year 1077 Paul, a monk of St. Stephen’s, at Caen, and a relative
of Lanfranc, was appointed to the abbacy; and, during the first eleven
years of his tenure of office, he had “constructed the entire church”
“of the stones and tiles from the ancient city of Verulam.” I presume,
however, that this statement of Matthew Paris must be taken with some
abatement, as we do not find the dedication to have taken place till
1115.

The church thus erected, though homely in material and of simple
workmanship, was stupendous in its scale and prodigiously massive in its
construction.

[Illustration: Fig. 248.--St. Stephen’s, Caen.]

It is curious that, while the Abbot of St. Stephen’s, when made
Metropolitan of all England, was content to copy his abbey church for
his metropolitan cathedral, a plain monk of the same monastery, when
made head of the first English abbey, should go so far beyond his former
church in the scale of his new one.

A glance at the two plans will show the extent of the difference (Figs.
250, 251). While at St. Stephen’s the nave (including the façade) has
nine bays, that of St. Alban’s has thirteen; while each transept of the
former church had two bays and one apsidal chapel, those of the latter
had each three bays and two chapels; and, while the choir at Caen had
only two bays besides the apse, that at St. Alban’s had four.

[Illustration: Fig. 249.--Lincoln Cathedral.]

The western façade, too, differed in that while that at Caen had towers
which closed in the ends of the aisles, those at St. Alban’s projected
wholly beyond their side walls; thus increasing the width of the front
by double that of the aisles. The effect of all these changes upon the
dimensions of the buildings was that, while St. Stephen’s was only 300
feet long, St. Alban’s was 465; that while the transept of the former
measured 140 feet in length, that at St. Alban’s was 210 feet; and that
the widths of the two western façades were respectively 88 feet and 155
feet.[25]

The design, though of the most rigid and almost gaunt simplicity, was
admirably proportioned; and, when compared with Norman churches of more
kindly material, seems like the block model rather than the finished
structure. The cause of this was the use, almost to the entire exclusion
of finer material, of the Roman tiles from Verulam. With these, not only
a great part of the mass of the walls, but the pillars, arches, windows,
string-courses, and other parts usually formed of stone, are almost
exclusively constructed.

[Illustration: Fig. 250.--St. Stephen’s, Caen.]

One might fancy that a vast structure erected of such materials might
have a very picturesque appearance, and that the rich and deep red of
the brick, alternating with an equal quantity of coarse mortar in the
joints, and interspersed with rough flint work, might give to the
general colouring of the edifice a warmth of tone, and a richness of
texture which, on a general view, might more than make up for its
ascetic plainness. But, oh! tell it not in our Belgravian Gath; neither
publish it in the streets of our Tyburnian Ascalon! These Norman
builders, like too many of their descendants in our own day, had no such
artistic notions, but rejoiced in encrusting the whole,--within and
without,--with one uniform coating of the smoothest and whitest plaster!
St. Alban’s, when viewed from the ruins of Old Verulam, must have looked
like a sort of “Moel Wynn,”--_a white mountain_; or, like the creation
of a spell of Merlin,--hewn out of a single block of marble (Fig. 252)!
Our romantic old Mediævals were not proof against such fascinations, for
we find

[Illustration: Fig. 251.--Plan, St. Alban’s.]

St. Wilfrid glorying in having washed the York Minster of his day
“whiter than snow;” and at Peterborough, it was the boast of one of the
abbots, that he had so skilfully whitewashed his cathedral, that it
appeared as if cut out of a single stone! But let us take comfort. Abbot
Paul had not sunk to so low a depth! He had an eye to the sister arts;
and we find him recorded as having enriched with painting the vaulting
of the apse behind the high altar. Nor did he stand alone in his taste
for such decorations; for we find now that every part of the plain old
plastered walls, pillars, arches, and vaulting has been so enriched at
different periods, the western side of the great piers of the nave
being richly painted with figures and subjects as the reredoses of the
altars placed against them.

[Illustration: Fig. 252.--St. Alban’s Abbey at the close of the 11th
century.]

With such artistic relief as this, added to the stern and massive
grandeur of its parts and the stupendous scale of the whole, and adding
also the gorgeousness of the shrine of the Proto-martyr, and of the
numerous altars and other objects which imparted beauty and solemnity,
one may well imagine that the internal effect, notwithstanding the
absence of architectural detail, was as noble as it must have been
unique.

The roofs, internally, may be proved to have been masked by level
ceilings, no doubt gorgeously painted like that which still remains over
the contemporary church at Hildesheim in North Germany, or that but
recently executed by Mr. Burges, aided by the charming art of Mr.
Poynter, over the nave of Waltham Abbey. The present painted ceilings
are, no doubt, the lineal successors of the Norman ones.

In the midst rose the stupendous piers and arches which sustained the
tower, between which the open lantern soared high above the church,
while beneath this lofty centre of the stupendous cross were ranged the
stalls of the monastic choir.

I illustrate this wonderfully dignified and impressive structure by
several drawings of the whole and of parts. It will be seen from this
how simply and almost exclusively it trusts to the most elementary
principles for its architectural effect. First, to its general grouping
and proportions, which are a perfect model of a typical Norman church,
bereft of its usual details; and, secondly, to the simple principle of
divided orders, which I have before explained, but used in nearly all
instances without the aid of decorative shafts or mouldings.

The proportions of the internal elevation are such that, if the entire
height of the wall be divided into nine parts, four go to the main
arcade, two to the triforium or gallery, and three to the clerestory
(Fig. 253).

[Illustration: Fig. 253.--Sectional view of Nave, St. Alban’s.]

The arches of each are of three orders, and are, for the most part,
without shafts; the section of the jamb and arch being the same, severed
only by a simple impost. A broad pilaster buttress runs up the face of
each pier from floor to ceiling.

[Illustration: Fig. 254.--St. Alban’s Abbey. Balusters.]

In the transept, however, the triforium is differently designed, being
subdivided into coupled arches, and supported by stone shafts. Many of
these shafts are balusters (most likely of Offa’s church) made use of
again, with the addition of a Norman capital and base, and sometimes
eked out in length by the interposition of Roman tiles (Fig. 254). Like
the balusters I have had the opportunity of examining at Dover and at
Jarrow,[26] they bear evident marks of having been turned in a lathe.

The outer wall of the gallery storey has been removed, but of its former
existence there is distinct evidence; the mark of the roof, as seen
against the transepts, showing that the aisle walls have been lowered by
some 8 or 9 feet. Only three bays of the aisles retain their vaulting,
which is of the most typical form of groining. It is capable of almost
certain proof that the roofs were throughout devoid of parapets. The
transept fronts were divided up the middle by a wide pilaster buttress,
and flanked by similar ones. Their windows, as nearly all others, are of
the greatest simplicity; three recessed orders in jambs and arches
alike, with imposts to the two outer ones: above the springing line,
however, of the gables, were ranges of double windows divided by stone
shafts. Each transept has a staircase in its western angle which runs up
into an ornamental round turret, with four double windows in its upper
stage, and was most likely crowned with a cone. These staircases led
into the triforium passages and into the roof.

[Illustration: Fig. 255.--Belfry Stage of Tower, St. Alban’s.]

The tower has three stages above the ridges of the roofs. The lower one
has plain windows lighting the lantern; the second has, on each side,
two pairs of double windows; and the upper storey has two such windows
of large scale. The tower is flanked with pilaster buttresses merging in
the upper storey into round turrets.

I will next take Winchester Cathedral. York would have claimed
precedence as a metropolitan church, but its Norman remains are so small
in extent as to neutralise its claims. I may mention, however, that
Professor Willis (whose marvellous perception of antiquarian evidence
enables him to describe, almost with precision, buildings of which the
common observer would conclude that no relic or evidence exists) has
shown us that the Norman cathedral at York (begun soon after 1070), was
a structure of prodigious magnitude, and exceeded in the width of its
nave any church in England; measuring 50 feet from centre to centre of
its piers.

Winchester may be said, in these early days, to have rivalled London as
the capital of England; for it had been the capital of that Saxon
kingdom which brought all the others into subjection, and whose kings
became kings of England; while London--the capital only of Essex, a
kingdom subordinate to Kent--owed its greatness simply to its river.

We have already seen that the cathedral, founded by Birinus in the
seventh century, had been rebuilt by Athelwold and Elphege in the tenth
century.

In 1079 it was again rebuilt by Bishop Walkelyn, a chaplain and relation
of the Conqueror, and finished about 1093.

Walkelyn’s Cathedral exceeded in vastness even Abbot Paul’s stupendous
work at St. Alban’s. Its nave was of eleven bays, besides two vast
western towers. Its transepts each had four bays; its eastern arm four
bays, besides the apse, which had a surrounding aisle, and was flanked
by two small towers.

Its length, independently of an eastern chapel, was 485 feet; or,
including this chapel, 530 feet. The length of its transept was 225 feet
(it was double-aisled, that at St. Alban’s being unaisled), dimensions
which exceed those of St. Alban’s, and leave those of Lanfranc’s
metropolitan church far in the background. The width, too, of the nave
and its aisles was greater than that of St. Alban’s.

The architecture of this vast temple was of stern simplicity, though,
being carried out in stone, it was much more fully developed than that
of St. Alban’s. It was, in fact, a full and typical development of the
Early Norman, with every feature complete, though all in their plainest
garb.

All which now remains of this date is the transepts and the crypt (Fig.
257) of the eastern arm, and they may be described as the text-book of
Norman in its earlier form. The transepts, as before stated, were doubly
aisled, and (as Canterbury, Ely, and at Caen) a gallery crossed the
outer bay of each, supported on a massive round pillar, so as to render
the upper aisle continuous.

The plan of the piers of the transept, which probably gives us also that
of the rest of the church, is very perfect and typical (Fig. 256).

[Illustration: Fig. 256. Winchester Cathedral.]

Their figure may be generated by the process I have described in my last
lecture. Take a block of wall about half as long again as its thickness;
cut out from each of its angles the recess of an order; substitute half
or three-quarter shafts for the part which supports each order; and the
pier proper is complete. It still needs, however, supports for the
vaulting of the aisle on the one side, and for the central roof on the
other. The former is given by adding to that side a pilaster of equal
size with the transverse rib of the vaulting, and substituting for its
front portion a demi-shaft; the latter by a similar projection with the
addition of two smaller shafts on its flanks. Nothing could be more
perfect or more typical than this arrangement. The capitals are
everywhere of the cushion type, in its simpler form; the arch-orders
square, and without labels. The entire height of the wall being divided
into three, the upper, or clerestory, may be said to occupy one-third;
the remainder being divided between the great arcade and that of the
gallery, or upper aisle, in the proportions of about four and three.

The gallery, or triforium pier, is similar in plan to that below, but
the arch is divided into two widths, in the sub-order, by a central
shaft bearing two smaller arches. The clerestory, in its more typical
bay, is divided into three widths by small shafts, the side spaces being
low arches, and the central one being considerably elevated, and
containing the window.

Through this storey passes the passage in the thickness of the wall,
which ought more properly to be called the triforium.

The transept elevation is divided vertically into two compartments by a
large pilaster buttress, both without and within, and is externally
flanked by similar buttresses. In height it is divided into three
storeys, ranging with those of the interior, already described, the
aisles naturally containing two of these storeys; the upper of which has
small windows in the sides, and large ones in the gables. The windows
are (as a rule) shafted singly, without and within, with a deep splayed
jamb internally filling the interval. Those of the upper storey of
transepts fronts are arranged internally to correspond with the
clerestory. The gable of the south transept is enriched with
intersecting arcades.

Unfortunately, the central tower, of the early period, fell shortly
after its erection, rebelling, as it was thought, against the ungrateful
task of overshadowing the body of the detested Rufus.

This untoward behaviour has had the effect of rendering the work
imperfect; for, had the crossing remained, one could supply the choir
and nave with a fair amount of certainty. As it is, we cannot make any
imaginary restoration, for the whole of the centre, with the adjoining
bays, has been rebuilt in a later Norman style, influenced by a morbid
fear of a second catastrophe, which led to an undue bulkiness in the
piers, where better foundations and harder material would have supplied
sufficient security. Let us hope that no second Rufus may be buried
beneath the shadow of our precious monuments of art-history! The tower,
however, as rebuilt, is a noble work, though of small height. That such
stumpiness of proportion was not viewed as essential to the style, we
have practical proofs at St. Alban’s, Tewkesbury, and Norwich; so we may
safely conclude that, like the needless bulk of the renewed piers, it
was the result of the fear that their power would again refuse to canopy
the red-haired king, who still lay in the midst of the church, though
removed a few feet from being under the tower.

The crypt (Fig. 257), which gives us the form of the original sanctuary
and eastern chapel, is a fine example of the Early Norman where used
for simple purposes. The columns bear some resemblance to those of King
Edward’s work at Westminster, though much lighter. Their proportions,
however, cannot be seen, owing to their being buried deep in earth,
which is, I am sorry to say, not the only barbarism for which the
chapter there are responsible.

[Illustration: Fig. 257.--Crypt, Winchester Cathedral.]

The nave, as is so well known, was converted into another style by
Wykham and his predecessor, Eddington (Fig. 258); the last-named of whom
must, I suppose, have destroyed the two western towers, if ever they had
been carried up. We know them only by their foundations.

In the same county are the two noble minsters of Christchurch and
Romsey, the former of which I will mention presently; meanwhile I will
carry you in thought to Ely, where Walkelyn’s brother, Abbot Symeon,
undertook, a little later and in his extreme old age, the reconstruction
of his abbey church on a vast scale. The parts built or commenced
building by Symeon were the eastern arm, the transepts, the central
tower, and probably a bay of the nave; for, be it

[Illustration: Fig. 258.--The Nave, Winchester Cathedral.]

remembered, the eastern arm was, not in those days, as afterwards became
customary, the choir, but rather the sanctuary, or, more correctly, the
sanctuary and presbytery conjoined. The choir,--that is to say, the
stalls for the monks or canons who sat in choir,--was under the central
tower, and often ran a little into what we call the nave. It resulted
from this that, in cases where funds did not permit the completion at
first of the entire building, it was customary to build from the east
end up to the second or third pillar of the nave, so as to provide for
the actual requirements, and also to give an abutment to the central
tower.

[Illustration: Fig. 259.--Plan, Ely Cathedral.]

Abbot Symeon’s plan was formed on the largest scale (Fig. 259). His
transepts had each four bays in length, and, like those of his brother’s
church at Winchester, were aisled on both sides. He also built the
gallery across the transept, as at Canterbury and at Winchester. His
eastern arm was of four full bays, added to which was a smaller bay and
an unaisled apse. The aisles of the eastern arm were square-ended. The
pillars of the transept were generally round, though in some cases
clustered, and their capitals were totally different from those used by
his brother, being a quaint reminiscence of the Corinthian.

The proportions of the interior, in point of height, differ from those
of Winchester; and it would seem, that the height being divided into
three, one was here given to the gallery or triforium, the remainder
being divided between the great arcade and the clerestory, with
proportions of four to three; so that the main arcade retaining the same
proportion as at Winchester, there is more triforium and less
clerestory, differences which were increased in building the nave.

The galleries, originally built across the ends of the transepts, were
removed during later, though still Norman, times; and an arcade of
slight projection substituted. The clerestory differs from Winchester in
the arches of the three openings springing at equal height, and the
plans of the piers differ considerably. Those in the transepts (as
before said) are round and clustered, the latter consisting of the
customary group of three shafts on its lateral faces, with a single
shaft at back and front, for the vaulting and the roof, making together
a perfectly uniform group of four larger and four smaller shafts (Fig.
260). The round columns have a shafted pilaster attached to them on the
side facing the aisle (Fig. 261).

[Illustration: Fig. 260. Fig. 261.

Transept Piers, Ely Cathedral.]

The nave piers are of alternating forms. The one is founded on the
circular column, but has not only the shafted pilaster at the back, as
those in the transepts, but two shafts, to carry an extra arch-order, in
front, and a group of three running up to the roof (Fig. 262). The other
form of pier is like that at Winchester, with the addition of an extra
order, and has the triple shaft running up to the roof, as that last
described (Fig. 263).

[Illustration: Fig. 262. Fig. 263.

Nave Piers, Ely Cathedral.]

The triforium piers are very similar, though lighter, excepting that the
round pillar has lateral shafts to carry the sub-arcuation. All the
orders are moulded.

How far the general plan was laid down from the first by Symeon is not
known, but it differs from other cathedral and abbey churches in having
a magnificent transept at the west end. Whether what we call the
foundations of towers at Winchester may have been a foreshadowing of the
arrangement, I cannot judge; but from its extraordinary scale (far
exceeding that of western towers in general), I think it not unlikely.
There was also some distant resemblance to this in the façade at Bury.
Though, judging from the number of its bays, one would think the size of
Ely and Winchester not very different, there is a disparity in the
essential scale, which causes it to fall far short of the dimensions of
Walkelyn’s church. The widths of naves from centre to centre of piers
are respectively, 42 feet 6 inches and 37 feet 6 inches; and that of the
bays, similarly measured, are about 22 feet and 19 feet 9 inches.

The nave is of thirteen bays, besides the western transept. These parts
were added in the course of the twelfth century, making the whole length
(not measuring the west porch added in another style), about 420 feet,
the transept measuring about 190 feet in length.

There was, of course, a central tower as usual, but there was a second
tower of great size, and probably of greater height in the middle of the
western transept, which transept was flanked at its angles, with vast
polygonal stair-turrets, and had large and noble apsidal chapels
projecting from its eastern sides. These parts are in the Transitional
style, which I do not touch upon during this session; but I may here say
that, whether projected from the first or not, a more magnificent
addition to the usual features of a great cathedral or abbey church, can
hardly be imagined, though what its effect was when the central tower
existed, and the western one was crowned by a vast leaded spire, one can
hardly now appreciate.

Abbot Symeon’s tower had the same radical weakness with that built by
his brother, and though it lasted longer (having no Rufus beneath it),
it at length gave way, and was succeeded by the remarkable structure now
forming the unique centre of the glorious temple.

Of doorways, windows, etc., I will not now treat, though some of the
latter are of great beauty. Were it not that I limit myself during the
present lecture to buildings begun during the eleventh century, I should
here have noticed Peterborough, whose eastern end was a manifest
imitation of that of Abbot Symeon.

Abbot Symeon died at a hundred years of age in 1093. Of what a long
course of events had he been a contemporary or an eye-witness! He might
have remembered the congratulations called forth by the failure of the
prognostications of the world’s coming to an end in the year 1000. A
relative of the ducal family of Normandy, he might have witnessed, when
in early manhood, the arrival of Ethelred and Emma with the destined
king, confessor, and saint, when they fled from the ravages of King
Sweyn; and he might have even directed the education of the
Confessor-King. In architecture, he might have watched almost from its
rise the development of the Norman style, and have assisted, when at
early middle age, at the consecration of Duchess Judith’s Abbey Church
at Bernay, which is now our earliest specimen of what was then the
rising art of Normandy, and long subsequently became that of England,
and of which he and his brother,--now in their old age,--had become
respectively the founders of two of the noblest examples.

Before describing any other of the remaining works of the period, I will
carry you in imagination to one which has long ceased to exist. St.
Paul’s Cathedral in London was founded, as we have seen, early in the
seventh century, by Mellitus, the missionary bishop, and by Sebert, king
of Essex. Having been destroyed by fire, its rebuilding was commenced in
1083 by Bishop Maurice. The structure then commenced was of the most
ample dimensions. The elementary scale was larger even than that of
Winchester, for the width of the nave from centre to centre of the
pillars was 46 ft. 6 in., while that of Winchester was 42 ft. 6 in. The
nave was twelve bays in length, and each transept had five bays,
exceeding in this respect (so far as I know) any other Norman church,
excepting the Abbey at Bury St. Edmund’s. The transepts were doubly
aisled. The choir had, probably, four bays, but of its eastern
termination I know nothing.

The central tower must have been nearly 60 ft. square, and the length
of the transept 300 ft. The choir was raised high on an extensive crypt
(the successor, in all probability, of that which I have conjectured
Bishop Mellitus had constructed on the model of that of St. Peter’s at
Rome). Whether the two western towers, placed beyond the outer walls of
the aisles, like those of Abbot Paul at St. Alban’s, were of the
original date, I am uncertain.

The architecture of the interior seems to have somewhat resembled that
of Winchester, but was more lofty and more ornate. The plan of the
pillars seems precisely the same; but the arches both of the main arcade
and of the gallery were moulded, and circumscribed apparently by an
enriched label. The triforium arches are not shown as subdivided, but I
think that this was owing to an alteration of the original work. The
clerestory had in each bay three openings. The aisle walls were,
internally, arcaded beneath the windows. Whether the circular windows,
which in Hollar’s view light the triforium storey, represent original
ones, such as those at Waltham, we cannot judge.

Of this stupendous edifice, William of Malmesbury, who saw it in its
unaltered state, remarks, that “such is the magnificence of its
decorations that it is reckoned worthy to be numbered among the most
illustrious edifices; such the extent of the crypt, such the capacity of
the temple above, that it seems capable of sufficing to hold any
multitude of people.”

Our old London cathedral, through the whole period of its existence,
appears to have been the largest in England, and one of the largest in
Europe,--its dimensions at a later date being 600 ft. from east to
west, 300 ft. from north to south, and 520 ft. in the height of its
spire.

One of the great builders of the first race of Anglo-Normans was
Gundulph, a monk of the famous Abbey of Bec, and the friend of Lanfranc,
who, in 1077, consecrated him as Bishop of Rochester.

He rebuilt his cathedral, originally founded by the missionary Bishop
Justus; but it is very doubtful whether any important part of his
cathedral now exists.[27] He founded, also, the Castle at Rochester,
though he did not build the magnificent keep usually attributed to him.
He did, however, build the still more stupendous keep of the Tower of
London, including the chapel already described, having been regularly
employed by the king as the surveyor of the work.[28] The existing
remains of Norman style at Rochester differ so entirely from this in
character that I am convinced that the parts of the cathedral which he
built were just the eastern portion,--raised high on its crypt,--which
were rebuilt again in the thirteenth century.

Though not precisely in order of date, I will take next the great
cathedral of East Anglia, which was erected, not on any ancient site,
but wholly anew at Norwich; and of which nearly the entire shell of the
original fabric has come down to our own day.

It was commenced in 1096 by Bishop Herbert de

[Illustration: Fig. 264.--Plan, Norwich cathedral.]

Losinga, who (_O tempora! O mores!_) had, among other acts of simony,
purchased the see of the sacrilegious Rufus for £1900!--a sum equal in
our money to nearly £40,000. His apologist excuses this on the ground
that it is lawful for the clergy to purchase the rights of the church if
they cannot obtain them otherwise, adding the apostolic words,
“Redeeming the time, because the days are evil.” The Pope, however, did
not take this view, and sentenced him, for his simoniacal practices, to
build a number of churches at his own cost, of which this stupendous
edifice would appear to have been one, for it is distinctly stated that
he built it at his own charges,--a most amazing fact, though he held the
see for twenty-eight years; and our surprise is increased when we
recollect that the stone of which it is constructed was transported from
Northamptonshire.

The plan of the church (Fig. 264) differs from that of St. Alban’s
mainly in there being only one apsidal chapel to each transept, the
aisle being continuous round the great apse, and in the projection
therefrom of three chapels; also in the absence of western towers. Two
of the chapels last named remain, and are of remarkable plan, a circle,
from the eastern part of which projects an apse. The nave attains the
vast number of fourteen bays; each transept has four; and the eastern
arm a like number to the commencement of the apse. The length is 420 ft.
without the eastern chapel, now lost; that of the transept is 195 ft.
Like St. Alban’s, we have here the original central tower rising to its
full height of 135 ft. It is richly decorated, both without and within,
with ranges of arcading and other ornamental features. Within it rises a
lofty lantern, round which are triforium passages on two levels. The
angle buttresses without consist of a group of numerous shafts forming
an octagon, and ending in turrets now terminated in another style. The
upper part of the walls is curiously filled up with two ranges of large
circles. The tower is a very noble work, though somewhat eccentric in
its design.

We find here the aisle and its gallery, or triforium, of about equal
height, and occupying about three-fourths of the height of the wall; the
remainder being given to the clerestory. The triforium arches are
undivided, and very much resemble those of the main arcade; differing
chiefly in being generally uniform, with a slight alternate variety,
while those below are subjected to frequent changes.

[Illustration: Fig. 265.--Part of Nave, Norwich Cathedral.]

The usual pier on the triforium level has three shafts in a row in its
reveal, carrying a wide and plain soffite, while the angles have
alternately one and two recessed shafts, and the piers have alternately
single and couple shafts running up their front.

The piers below are in some cases like those above, in others a portion
of a vast round pillar is substituted for the row of three-shafts, the
rest remaining as before described; and in one instance, on each side
is a simple round column with spiral flutings, as at Durham, Waltham,
etc. (Fig. 265).

[Illustration: Fig. 266.--Plan of Abbey Church, Bury St. Edmund’s.]

The zigzag and billet appear in the arches, and mouldings are, though
sparingly, introduced. The capitals are mostly either of the cushion
type, or varieties of the form I have shown you from the Tower of
London, Caen, and Lincoln.

The whole internal effect is magnificent and noble in a very high
degree.

The transept-fronts are divided here into three bays instead of two, as
in the churches hitherto described. The arcades of the eastern arm
differ considerably from those of the nave, while those of the apse
unite in a very pleasing manner into a continuous range. Beneath the
central arch are still remaining the shattered vestiges of the original
episcopal throne.

I may mention in passing the remarkable plan of the great East Anglian
abbey church at Bury St. Edmund’s. I exhibit a ground-plan, from which
its remarkable features and extraordinary magnitude may be judged (Fig.
266). The length was 500 ft, and that of its western façade 250 ft. The
latter is of a unique type, being flanked by two vast octagonal towers.

A very different type of the same age is found at Gloucester, the
erection of which commenced in 1089. Here, as was so usual where the
foundation was of the Anglo-Saxon period, the sanctuary has a vast crypt
beneath it (Fig. 267).

[Illustration: Fig. 267.--The Crypt, Gloucester Cathedral.]

The peculiarities of this church are two,--first, the triforium or
gallery of the eastern arm is vaulted with a demi-vault, and from it
opened repetitions of the apsidal chapels, which are placed somewhat as
at Norwich; and second, no such gallery exists to the nave, but the
height is there thrown into the aisle; so that we have a very lofty
aisle of one storey to the nave, and two ranges of aisle of very low
proportions to the eastern arm, the two arrangements coming face to face
in the transepts. The piers throughout were vast cylindrical columns,
with very plain and uncouth round capitals.

This remarkable type was followed, with minor variations, in the two
neighbouring monastic churches of Tewkesbury and Pershore. In all it has
been greatly altered; but, by comparing one with another, the same
scheme is shown to have prevailed in all three. In none were there
aisles to the transepts.

The church at Tewkesbury was built just at the same time with
Gloucester, and retains a feature which Gloucester has lost, a
magnificent Norman central tower.

This church is of peculiar value from its retaining, like those of St.
Alban’s and Norwich, so much of the original Norman outline, and few
there are which exceed it in the solemn dignity of its external aspect.

Of the neighbouring cathedral of Worcester, as rebuilt about this time
or a little earlier by St. Wolstan,--one of the few English bishops who
retained their sees under the Normans,--we have only the crypt,[29]
which is wonderfully perfect in its design and preservation, and the
arches which led into the eastern chapels of the transepts. We have also
the unique and beautiful circular chapter-house of about the same
period.[30] Against the south transept, in an arched passage, we find
either a reminiscence of the Saxon baluster or some from the older
cathedral used again. St. Wolstan would, no doubt, have been glad of any
such memento of good old times; remembering which, while watching the
progress of his Norman Church, he could not restrain his feelings, and
exclaimed, “We wretched people destroy the works of the saints, that we
may get praise for ourselves. That age of happy men knew not how to
construct pompous edifices, but they knew well how, under such roofs as
they had, to sacrifice themselves to God, and to set a good example. We,
alas! strive that we may pile up stones, neglecting, the while, the care
of souls.”

I will not detain you by describing Hereford, built by the more pious
relative and namesake of Losinga, of Norwich;[31] nor Chichester,
commenced about 1089, a few years after the removal of the ancient see
from Selsey, and which was a very perfect Norman cathedral on a minor
scale, with its eastern end arranged much as that of Norwich, but with
two western towers. Its original features are excellent specimens of the
early period.

Let us now travel far northwards, and visit St. Cuthbert’s glorious
shrine; but, after entering upon the great Northern road, let us step
aside and pay a passing tribute to the memory of England’s last Saxon
king, Harold Infelix, in the church of his own founding, at Waltham.

When the nave, now standing, was erected, let us not too curiously
inquire. It is a question on which some of our keenest antiquaries have
differed, and let us not dispute over a site so sacred in England’s
history. Right goodly is the remaining fragment, by whomsoever erected.
I confess to a belief that it was the work of some who still loved the
memory of Harold, after living long under Norman sway; and if, in after
years, the chieftains of Norman lineage delighted to trace their names
in the roll of Battle Abbey, that proud memento

    Of Hasting’s fatal field,
    Where shiver’d was fair England’s spear,
    And broken was her shield,

be it rather for Englishmen to take a mournful pleasure in the spot
whither were borne from that fatal field the mangled remains of
England’s native but unhappy king.

The two are alike mementos of national humiliation; but let us rejoice
that, though the triumphal thank-offering of the Conqueror is now a
desolate ruin, the remnant of Harold’s foundation, however reduced, is
still a church, and has been in our day rescued from much of its
humiliation, and been made the subject of thoughtful and artistic care.

Its architecture has some resemblance to the glorious work which we have
next to consider; for, like Durham, its bays are arranged in couplets.
In one instance, on either side, the intermediate pier is a round
column, pure and simple, with spiral flutings; in the others, the same
form but with attached shafts towards the aisles, so that the two
buildings which I have thus accidentally taken--the one on our
pilgrimage to the other--are so much alike in internal design that one
might fairly attribute them to the same architect.

[Illustration: Fig. 268.--Waltham Abbey.]

At Durham we have a glorious temple erected by Norman bishops, over the
shrine of a British saint. The body of St. Cuthbert, after many
journeyings and sojournings, had eventually become domiciled at Durham;
for,

    “After many wanderings past,
     He chose his lordly seat at last,
     Where his cathedral, huge and vast,
     Looks down upon the Wear;
     There, deep in Durham’s Gothic shade,
     His reliques are in secret laid.”

The existing cathedral was commenced in 1093, by the Norman Bishop de
St. Carileph. Malcomb, king of Scotland, and his true-hearted English
queen, Margaret, assisted in laying the first stones.

Sir Francis Palgrave tells us that Bishop de St. Carileph obtained the
design abroad during three years’ exile from his see. I know not of any
church like it abroad, but this is no refutation of the statement, which
seems by no means an unlikely one, and is, I think, founded on ancient
authority. However this may be, a design more noble can scarcely be
conceived, and I think it must be admitted that, among all the churches
erected by the Normans in England, this is the noblest though far from
being the first in size.

Its great beauty is internal, and arises from the carrying throughout
the principle of alternating clustered piers and vast round columns, the
latter having their shafts decorated with spiral, zigzag, intersecting,
and vertical flutes.

This principle, in an isolated form, we find elsewhere: as in two bays
at Norwich, and a similar number at Selby, and more perfectly at
Waltham, and at Lindisfarne; Durham, however, seems to have taken the
lead in carrying it throughout the church. But still more remarkable is
the stupendous scale and noble proportions in which it is produced.

Though the church was begun by Carileph, he only survived its
commencement for three years, and a like interval of vacancy followed
his decease. During this time the monks, under their zealous prior,
Turgot, carried on the work, which, on the succession of Ralph Flambard
to the see, in 1099, is said to have been completed.

It is clear that the general design had been laid down under Carileph,
as the choir, transepts, and nave agree in their leading idea; so that,
whatever influence the previous building experience of Flambard obtained
during his holding the deanery of St. Paul’s or elsewhere may have had
upon the details of his nave at Durham, we must award the honour of the
scheme, as a whole, to Carileph’s architect, who had supplied him the
design during his exile in Normandy. Both bishops were as far as may be
from the _beau ideal_ of

[Illustration: Fig. 269.--Plan, Durham Cathedral.]

an unworldly ecclesiastic, but one would regret to attribute a work so
noble to the unscrupulous and wicked agent of the oppressions of Rufus.

In plan (Fig. 269), the church, being arranged in coupled bays, two such
couplets are given to its choir and two to either transept (the latter
much narrower than the former). The nave consists of three couplets,
after which comes a single bay, and then the bay which represents the
western façade; or, in other words, it consists of four couplets, the
westernmost of which is disturbed by the substitution of a complex pier
on either side to carry the towers, in the place of what would have been
its round column. This seems an imperfection; for four couplets, clear
of the tower bay, would appear a more perfect arrangement.

The transept has only an eastern aisle. The eastern termination of the
church is lost. It was apsidal, and probably with a circumscribing
aisle. The dimensions of the entire building are not quite equal to some
of those which we have reviewed, being probably at first about 430 ft.
in length by 200 ft. from north to south of the transept. The width from
centre to centre of columns is 40 ft. The bays of nave and choir,
similarly measured, vary from 23 ft. to 26 ft.

The piers are of prodigious size, the clusters and round pillars being
respectively about 11 ft. and 7 ft. in diameter. The magnificent
grandeur of the interior arises as well from the extreme nobleness of
the design of these couplets of bays, as from their continuous use
throughout the church. Nothing can exceed the noble simplicity and
grandeur with which they are treated, nor the happiness of their
proportion (Fig. 270).

The main arcade assumes a much more commanding altitude than in most of
the churches already described, occupying, what became in after-times
its received proportion, of one-half of the height of the wall, the
other half being pretty equally divided between the triforium and
clerestory.

[Illustration: Fig. 271. Durham Cathedral.]

The great columns are precisely like those at Winchester, excepting that
the three-fold group of shafts, which there occupies the lateral
portion, is precisely repeated on the front and back faces, making a
perfectly uniform group in all directions (Fig. 271). This arrangement
produces great grandeur, owing to the noble group of shafts it carries
up to the vaulting of the central space. The arches are boldly moulded,
with rolls and hollows, and enriched with the chevron. The triforium,
piers, and arches are of three orders; the lower one dividing into two
arches on a centre shaft. The clerestory is usually of three unequal
arches.

The capitals are all of the cushion type; those to the great cylindrical
columns being octagonal. The chevron is here freely used, and the
doorways are magnificently rich. One most marked feature in this
cathedral is, that its central space is everywhere vaulted.

It is known that this was a subsequent work; but, in the nave at least,
it appears equally clearly to have

[Illustration: Fig. 270.--Part of Nave, Durham Cathedral.]

been contemplated from the first, a portion of the transverse ribs
having been built with the walls. In the transept, however, the evidence
seems to be the other way, though I think the question has been hardly
sufficiently investigated. The sister church at Lindisfarne, built
almost on the same design, seems, from the views one sees of it, to have
been vaulted from the first, or, at least, to have been so designed.

Externally, a peculiarity occurs at Durham in the gabled roofing
originally covering the aisles (Fig. 272). This does not now exist, but
the evidences of it are indisputable.

[Illustration: Fig. 272.--Durham Cathedral. Gabled roofing to the
Aisles.]

The awful grandeur of the interior of this cathedral, and its noble
effect from without,--standing, as it does, on a rocky promontory nearly
surrounded by the deep ravine of the river, and, as a quaint old writer
says--“So envyroned with hilles, that he that hath seen the situation of
this city hath seen the mapp of Sion, and may save himself a journey to
the Holy Land,”--must ever cause it to rank among the grandest of our
Mediæval remains: and its influence seems to have been proportioned to
its merits; for, as Sir Francis Palgrave tells us, it “became the normal
model of ecclesiastical architecture throughout the ancient diocese of
Aidan and Finan, far beyond the Tweed.”

I will only notice one more building in the present lecture, and that in
the farthest south; and I make this long stride,--from the Wear to the
New Forest,--for the sake of noticing the other great work of the
notorious prime minister of Rufus. Mr. Ferrey, who has every right to
judge of all that relates to Christchurch, has traced out certain
resemblances between Christchurch and Durham. The difficulty in
connecting such resemblances with the influence on each of Bishop
Flambard, is (as I have before said) that Durham was commenced, and had
made great progress before his succession to the see. I am, however,
disposed to think that it was Durham that influenced Christchurch,--as
it was not while dean, but subsequently, when patron of Christchurch,
that Flambard rebuilt that church; and this was contemporaneous with his
holding the see of Durham.

Flambard’s Church is extremely bold and simple in its parts, and well
studied in its proportions. The clerestory and vaulting are of a later
date; but Mr. Ferrey gives reasons for thinking the latter to have been
from the first intended. The details are good and well considered; the
capitals are of the cushioned form, and of that type noticed in the
Tower of London and elsewhere. Some appear to have been subsequently
carved with exquisite taste, in a manner which reminds one of Greek
foliage. The windows of the triforium gallery, with the corbel tabling
over them, still remain, and are of excellent, though simple, design;
while the beautifully arcaded stair-turret to the northern transept is
one of the choicest relics of the Norman style (Fig. 273).

[Illustration: Fig. 273.--Stair-turret, North Transept, Christchurch,
Hants.]

The buildings I have thus imperfectly described I have selected as
having been all commenced within the eleventh century. I trust I may be
able during the next session to follow on the style through its
subsequent and more ornate stages, and on again through the interesting
period of its transition into the Pointed style; and, while doing this,
I hope to illustrate my remarks by means of many of the smaller
creations of the style, and by some which are other than
ecclesiastical.[32]

For the present,--after travelling over an eventful period of nearly
seven centuries, and tracing out the rise of British[33] architecture
through many phases,--I must bring my course for this session to a
close, apologising if I have, in the warmth of patriotism, been induced
to lead you out of the beaten and accredited track of art; though at the
same time convinced that the architecture we have been considering will
be found on close examination to contain germs and principles which have
been and may again be made to germinate into styles of art of the
highest and noblest character.




LECTURE XIII.

The Practical and Artistic Principles of Early Architecture in Great
Britain.

     The close of the eleventh century--The “new manner of
     building”--Conditions necessary to an _arcuated_, as distinguished
     from a _trabeated_, style--First principles of Grecian and Roman
     architecture--Rationale of the _arcuated_ style--Its
     developments--Cloisters of St. Paul without the Walls and St. John
     Lateran, Rome--Doorways--Windows--Vaulting over spaces enclosed by
     walls or ranges of piers--Simplest elements
     defined--Barrel-vaults--Hemispherical vaults or _domes_--Groined
     vaults.


When I delivered my last lectures in this Academy, it was my intention
to give a practical sketch of the history and development of
architecture in this country from the earliest rise of civilisation
among the races of which our nation is composed, down, perhaps, to the
period of the revival of Classic architecture. As, however, such
continuous history has been disturbed by the omission of my lectures
last season, and as few now present heard, and fewer, probably, now
remember, those lectures, it is not my intention to continue my former
course, but, adopting as my stand-point the stage at which I had then
arrived, to digress into an inquiry into some of the practical and
artistic principles of the class of architecture of whose development I
was then treating.

The chronological point which I had reached was the close of the
eleventh century,--a point well fitted to be chosen as one for leaving
the beaten track for the purpose of inquiring into principles. It was
the very stage at which the great round-arched style, which had just
developed itself into a strong and sturdy luxuriance, was in the
condition best suited to receive the refinements of art.

It was, too, the very eve of that wonderful politico-religious movement
which was to bring the nations of the West into contact with the
East;--thus preparing the way for a vast influx of new ideas and of
fresh artistic elements; and, so far as our own country was concerned,
it was just the moment when the simple and unambitious architecture of
the Anglo-Saxon race had given place to the more colossal edifices and
the more systematic style of the Norman invaders; and when the
newly-imported architecture, having taken firm root in our soil, was
ready to become naturalised as our own, and to be pressed forward in all
zeal and earnestness by the united races which--now neither Saxon nor
Norman--were becoming, to all intents and purposes, _English_.

Nor let it be supposed that the architecture, thus made ready as the
nucleus of subsequent developments, was in itself essentially rude, or
mean, or barbaric. I admit that it was stern and severe, and lacking the
refinements of advanced art; and that its sculpture, though a reflection
from that of Byzantium--as that had been from ancient Greece--was
nevertheless grim, uncouth, and unrefined; yet in grandeur of conception
and in vastness of scale its productions vied with those of almost any
period or country; and I shall be able to show you that it contained
principles the most profound and accurate, and capable of being carried
forward to any degree of refinement.

A single half-century had, in fact, filled the length and breadth of our
land with structures of prodigious scale and impressive grandeur,
founded on the most reasonable principles, and containing, in a rough
and unrefined form, the most prolific and the most artistic elements. So
many of these vast edifices have given place to others of more advanced
style, or have been recklessly destroyed, that we can now with
difficulty realise the architectural status of a country where they were
rising or were just completed in every town and (on a reduced scale) in
almost every village;--a period when vast fortresses, such as the Tower
of London and the stupendous keeps of Rochester, of Norwich, and of
Headingham were specimens of the vernacular architecture to be seen all
over the land; when the now shattered ruins of Newark and the grim tower
of Newcastle were as freshly erected as their names imply; when the
awful names of Durham and Gloucester were but specimens of the “new
manner of building” then recently introduced, and which pervaded the
whole land; and when no city, or hardly a village, could be approached
without the lofty scaffoldings heaving first into view which surrounded
campaniles which could boast such as those at St. Alban’s and Tewkesbury
as their types.

We will, however, quit the track of mere history, to inquire into the
intrinsic principles of the architecture thus far attained, and in
course of development; and I must beg to be forgiven if, in doing so, I
am compelled at times to repeat what I have brought under your notice in
former lectures; for, not then intending to go systematically into this
inquiry, I have occasionally forestalled my subject by adverting to
these principles, as the course of my historical sketch chanced to
suggest.

I shall, then, firstly consider the architecture in question,--this
“_novum genus ædificandi_,”--from a point of view bearing upon its great
structural characteristic as a purely _arcuated_ style, and one whose
strivings all took the direction of rendering that structural fact the
main source, as well as the main receptacle, of its artistic character
and decoration.

Now what, I would ask, are the conditions necessary to an _arcuated_, as
distinguished from a _trabeated_, style?

I would thus define them:--Generally, I would say that such a style
should be capable of doing all, whether structural or artistic, by means
of the _arch_, which other forms of architecture had done through the
use of the horizontal _beam_ or lintel.

And to go more into particulars, I would add:--

1st. That, as a rule, openings in walls and between pillars, whether
taking the form of doorways, windows, gateways, or intercolumniations,
should be bridged over by arches instead of by horizontal lintels or
entablatures, though not descending into such purism as to reject the
latter when circumstances clearly point to its adoption.

2nd. That areas enclosed by walls, or by ranges of piers or columns, and
of any reasonable width, should be capable of being covered over,--and,
in buildings of the highest grade, should as a rule be actually covered
over,--by _vaulting_; this rule, however, not being pressed so far as to
exclude level ceilings or timber roofs,--the one the most natural and
economical covering for rooms, and the other for churches, halls,
etc.,--where circumstances forbid the use of vaulting.

3rd. That the decorative system of the architecture should harmonise
with, and result from, these prevailing structural conditions; the
construction and the architectural treatment being, not only in harmony,
but in the most intimate alliance the one with the other.

Now, we all know that Grecian architecture almost ignored the arch,
carrying the horizontal or trabeated system of covering openings to the
highest artistic perfection; doing for that system just everything which
the above-stated conditions would demand for an arched style. _Repose_
was the great sentiment which their architecture expressed; _vertical
pressure_, the one physical condition it had to provide against; whereas
arched architecture (as they say in India) “never sleeps.” It is always
exerting pressure in some other direction than the mere vertical line,
and the physical conditions it has to meet are the resistance of these,
as well as the support of mere weight.

We know, too, that Roman architecture admitted nearly all the
constructive conditions we have demanded, and carried them on to a very
considerable degree of practical perfection. We believe, moreover, that
had not circumstances checked its progress, it would have carried out
these conditions to a much greater extent. As it happened, however, it
did not go so far as to make these structural conditions a leading
artistic element, and the groundwork of a distinctive decorative system;
but, being broken up through political convulsion before such an end was
attained, it bequeathed the task to the descendants of its despoilers,
and long centuries of darkness had to pass by before the work could be
accomplished.

In Roman works, the arched construction was in many cases studiously
overlaid and concealed by the decorative features of trabeated
architecture; and, where an arch was architecturally treated, it was for
the most part by bending round it the mouldings of an architrave or
_beam_: and, where a vault was rendered ornamental, it was often by
repeating on its coved surface the coffered panels which had originated
in a horizontal ceiling; while, in purely arcuated works, such as the
stupendous aqueducts, architectural decoration was usually ignored, and
structural grandeur alone trusted to for beauty. Still, however, enough
was done to convince us that these great builders were on the high road
to a noble solution of the problem, and were only, by external
accidents, stopped short of its attainment.

I am not about to indulge in abstract imaginings as to what an arcuated
style of architecture might be if originated without the aid of previous
associations or traditions; but I would ask you to follow out, with some
reference to the previous Classic styles, and aided by our knowledge of
subsequent developments, the _rationale_ of such a style as that whose
leading conditions I have stated.

We must begin with the simplest elements of the style.

Firstly, then, let us take a mere opening in a wall, whether intended
for a window or for any other use. As in the trabeated system, apart
from architecture, such an opening would be covered by a single block of
stone (Fig. 274), so in an arched system would it be bridged over by an
arch (Fig. 275); and, just in the same manner, if a continuous series of
openings were required, equivalent to a colonnade, the same simple idea
would be repeated,--in the one system horizontal stones lying upon
upright ones (as at Stone House) or upon piers (Fig. 276), and in the
other the openings being covered by a series of arches (Fig. 277); the
_colonnade_ being the ultimate result in the one case, the _arcade_ in
the other.

[Illustration: Fig. 274.]

[Illustration: Fig. 275.]

[Illustration: Fig. 276.]

[Illustration: Fig. 277.]

[Illustration: Fig. 278.]

[Illustration: Fig. 279.]

[Illustration: Fig. 280.]

To architecturalise the arched opening, or the continuous arcade, the
simplest expedients seem to be the insertion between the pier and the
arch of an impost moulding to mark the springing line (Fig. 278); and,
in the arch, either to individualise the arch-stones by chamfering their
edges, as the Romans often did, or to relieve their plain surface by
moulding, the latter being best suited where the stones made use of are
of only moderate size (Fig. 279). The mouldings of the arch may,
however, be continued down the jambs without an impost, and in either
case a projecting rim or hood-mould may be introduced over the main
arch to emphasise the line which separates the arch from the
superincumbent wall (Fig. 280).

[Illustration: Fig. 281.]

[Illustration: Fig. 282.]

These simple changes bring our plain arched opening into something like
an architectural feature; and, if we apply them to a continuous arcade,
the architecturalising process becomes yet more apparent, and it may
readily be carried a step farther by adding pilaster capitals to the
piers (Fig. 281). Another and yet more important step, inasmuch as it is
really the basis of a very marked feature in our arch styles, is the
substitution of columns for the piers of an arcade (Fig. 282); which
columns, having square abaci, are really as well fitted to support the
arch as the square pier itself, and at once give a highly decorative
character to our arcade; and the more so if the jambs are converted into
pilasters.

The abaci, however, of such bearing-shafts ought to be very different
from the delicate finish of the Corinthian capital; for the arch is not
the same inert load which the columns in a trabeated style are destined
to carry. It exerts diagonal as well as mere vertical pressure, and so
demands a firmer base. This led the architects of the early arched
styles, while adopting the Corinthian capital, and perhaps re-using
those of older buildings, to add to it a strong flat stone as an impost
upon which they could safely give the springers of their arches a basis
larger in diameter than the sustaining column. This form,--that is to
say, the Corinthian capital with an added impost,--became traditional,
and we find the imitations of it down to the end of the twelfth century.

We have hitherto supposed our arches to be of moderate depth from
extrados, or outer line, to intrados, or inner line, and our walls,
perhaps, of moderate thickness. Let us, however, assume it to be
necessary to increase the depth of the arch, and that the materials at
hand are not of large size. In some of the Byzantine remains in Central
Syria, where the stone is of great size, we find that they have
architecturalised by mouldings and enrichments only just so much of the
arch-stones as was needful for beauty, and left the rest to go as mere
wall-face; and where such large stones are not made use of, it is common
enough to build the arch in two rims, and only to deal architecturally
with the lower one (Fig. 283) or perhaps to leave both plain (Fig. 284).

[Illustration: Fig. 283.]

[Illustration: Fig. 284.]

Now, the first may be unobjectionable where the wall is of moderate
thickness and the load great, and the second is well suited to large and
massive engineering works; but for ordinary architecture, it is apt to
give too bulky and cumbrous an effect. This naturally suggests the
idea--while allowing the upper range of arch-stones to occupy the full
thickness of the wall--of reducing the lower range to a smaller width,
thus breaking the arch section into resalient angles, and thereby both
lightening its effect and rendering the piers or jambs which support it
lighter and less obstructive to the view (Fig. 285).

[Illustration: Fig. 285.]

Simple as this step may appear, it is one whose importance can scarcely
be over-stated; for it is the starting-point of the entire system of
Romanesque and Gothic arch-moulding; it is the origin of the clustered
columns, and the deeply-recessed and richly-decorated doorways which
mark those styles; and to it we owe in great measure even the traceried
windows which are such leading characteristics of Gothic architecture.
For, as regards arches, we had before but one angle to mould, whereas we
may now have as many as the thickness of our walls will permit, thus
generating at once the great Mediæval system of receding orders, whether
of arches or their jambs; and you will presently see that this gives us
also our clustered columns, which are, in fact, the mere decoration of
the receding orders of the piers.

[Illustration: Fig. 286. Capital from the Crypt, Canterbury.]

Let us now deal with such a pier as is shown in our last figure. It is
clear that the plan of that pier is the same as that of the springers of
the coupled arches which it supports, and that this plan is of a
cross-form. It is not, however, necessary that this plan should be
continuous through the pier, if only an impost is provided of a form
suited to receive this double springer (Fig. 286). It is quite possible
(and is very frequent), to substitute a single column for this
cross-formed pier, giving it a capital whose abacus either assumes a
like plan with the springer (Fig. 287), or, if either octagonal or
round, is suited in size to contain it without either undue projection
or much superfluous space.

[Illustration: Fig. 287. Capital from Ely.]

Let us, however, take another step; and instead of substituting a column
for the group of arch-orders, let us substitute either a smaller column
for each of the four orders, thus supporting the arches by a group of
four columns (Fig. 288); or else let these be united into one complex
pillar formed of portions of four columns (Fig. 289); or, thirdly, let
us place a colonnette under each order, grouping them, either in the
solid or as detached shafts, round a central square pier (Figs. 290,
291). In any of these methods we at once obtain the clustered column.

[Illustration: Fig. 288.]

[Illustration: Fig. 289.]

To the jambs we may apply the same process, either substituting a
colonnette for the inner order, and pilasters for the outer ones, or
_vice versa_ (Figs. 292, 293), or substituting colonnettes or pilasters
for all. I do not know how early this system of using colonnettes to do
merely decorative duty was introduced. We have a specimen of it in the
remains of the church built by Benedict Biscop, at Monk Wearmouth, in
the seventh century, where, as I have stated in a previous lecture, two
baluster shafts are placed in either jamb of a doorway to support the
impost.[34] To go to the far East, we find the system in use in the
Mosque of Touloun, at Cairo, built, I believe, in the ninth century. In
one of the doorways of the cathedral at Mayence, built about the end of
the tenth century, columns and pilasters, with Corinthian capitals, and
crowned by a thick impost moulding, are alternately employed to carry
the four receding orders of the arch. The whole has semi-Classic
details. In the western portals of St. Mark’s, at Venice (close upon the
same period), we find a profusion of detached columns similarly used.
They are of marble and other rich materials, and were probably brought
to Venice from ancient buildings in the East.

[Illustration: Fig. 290.

Fig. 291.

Fig. 292.

Fig. 293.]

It may be that the possession of such antique relics, and the
long-established practice of re-using them, may have suggested the use
of small columns for such purposes; indeed, it is curious that in the
case of the Mosque of Touloun, just alluded to, as a very early instance
of the use of colonnettes, there is a tradition that the architect, who
was a Christian, was imprisoned for refusing to use the columns torn

[Illustration: Fig. 294.--Cloisters of St. Paul without the Walls,
Rome.]

from desecrated churches, which had been a condition prescribed to him,
and only consented to proceed with the work on the withdrawal of this
order. Whether or not, this custom originated the feature under
consideration, I think that it is one which belongs essentially to a
_derivative_ style, and would hardly have come into existence in a style
of architecture not aided by traditions of the past. The Romans
themselves, as is proved by their mural paintings, seem to have indulged
in the use of thin columns (possibly of metal), for buildings not
demanding massive dignity; and it is just possible that in their
domestic architecture some suggestions of this use of such pillars might
have existed; and certainly among Mediæval works, in none are they more
charmingly introduced than in the cloisters of St. Paul without the
Walls, and St. John Lateran, at Rome, whose details are much more
Classic than Gothic (Fig. 294).

In our Norman buildings colonnettes are for the most part built in the
solid of the piers, which would suggest that they are not there in the
earliest stage of their use.

The principle once adopted, there seems no limit to the variety of which
it is capable. Shafts may be substituted for _all_ of the arch-orders,
or for such only of them as may be desired.

Where the arch consists of more than two orders, a half-column of larger
size may be made to support two or more, and smaller ones may flank them
carrying single orders (Fig. 295). Where, again, the lower order is wide
in its soffit, it may be carried either by a large semi-column (Fig.
296) or by coupled colonnettes (Fig. 297); and where there are three
orders, the same may be applied to the front, bringing the pillars to a
uniform design on all of its sides (Figs. 298, 299).

[Illustration: Fig. 295.

Fig. 296.

Fig. 297.

Fig. 298.

Fig. 299.]

We have already seen that single columns may be used to carry arcades of
two or more orders, either by breaking their abaci into receding angles,
to fit them to the orders of the arches, or by making round or
octagonal abaci large enough to receive them; and such single columns
may be alternated with clustered piers. There is, however, another
extensive variety of pillar compounded of the two.

[Illustration: Fig. 300.

Fig. 301.]

Let us suppose a single column supporting arches of a single order (Fig.
300), and that we desire to extend the arches to _three_ orders,
retaining the same main bearing-shaft. We may imagine the additional
orders to be super-added on all sides of the original square springer
and additional colonnettes (attached or detached) added round the
original bearing-shaft to receive them (Fig. 301). The same may be
applied to an octagon, placed either angularly or in its usual position
(Figs. 302, 303).

[Illustration: Fig. 303. Fig. 302. Fig. 304. Fig. 306.]

The process may be carried a step farther, and eight colonnettes be set
round the original bearing-shaft (Fig. 304). In St. Mary’s Abbey,[35] at
York (towards the end of the twelfth century), we have an instance of
sixteen colonnettes thus placed round a bearing-shaft (Fig. 305), but
only eight of them carry separate orders; and a little later, in the
cathedral at Genoa (the work, apparently, of a northern French
architect), we have no less than twenty-four colonnettes similarly
ranged round an octagon (Fig. 306); though here, again, only eight are
represented in the plan of the abacus or of the base when it rests upon
the floor, the others being introduced probably for the relief produced
by the varied colours of the marbles of which they are composed.

[Illustration: Fig. 305.--St. Mary’s Abbey, York.]

A little later the colonnettes themselves become grouped in threes and
fours, and their edges often filleted, or “keeled,” that is, decorated
by an arris or edge projecting from their round surface. Thus, at
Lichfield (Fig. 307) in the older portions, groups of three shafts
united into one, and carrying a common abacus, were set on each side of
an octagonal bearing-shaft. At Wells (Fig. 308) similar triple shafts
were set alternately against the faces and in the internal angles of a
cross-formed nucleus, with alternately square and octagonal abaci.

[Illustration: Fig. 307.--Lichfield.]

[Illustration: Fig. 308.--Wells.]

My purpose, however, is not to enumerate all possible varieties of
clustered pier, but to explain its principle, and at the same time to
show how unlimited an artistic element was deducible from an intent
thus founded on the natural conditions of arched construction. To go
much farther would carry us on prematurely into the succeeding styles,
and would be also anticipating another cause, which carried on the
principle to a still further development. I allude to groined vaulting,
of which I shall have to treat in detail when I reach it.

Before, however, I quit the subject of arches and piers, I must say a
few words on the application of their principles to doorways and
windows.

Doorways differ in no degree, as to principle, from archways, excepting
in having, at some point in the thickness of the wall, more or less
recessed at pleasure, what Professor Willis calls the “doorway plane;”
that is to say, one of the arch-orders so formed that the door may be
hinged to it, and may shut against it. The actual opening of the door
may or may not be stopped on this plane to a square heading, the arch
over it being filled in with a tympanum, plain or sculptured; or it may
be altered from the form of the main arch to some shape having less
height. In all other respects the principles already stated apply
equally to doorways as to archways. The interior, however, has to be
varied if the door fills in the arch-form, with a view to facilitating
its free opening; but this is a practical point not needful to be here
gone into. The orders of arch-mouldings in a doorway often continue down
the jambs, as in one of the magnificent doorways at Malmesbury Abbey: or
they may be replaced by colonnettes or pilasters, or these methods may
be united in the same doorway,--just as in another door at Malmesbury,
continuous mouldings alternate with colonnettes,[36]--and the arches,
jambs, and capitals, and even the shafts of the colonnettes, may receive
any degree of sculptured enrichment.

The doorway being a point on which much architectural character was
concentrated, and great depth being necessary to give the required
effect, it was customary to thicken the walls at the doorways by various
expedients, so as to obtain depth enough to give several orders of
arch-mouldings; this increased thickness was covered over by gables, and
by other means.

The width, too, of the jambs of doorways is often increased, and more
space gained for enrichment, by giving to each order in the jamb a
larger space than would otherwise be necessary of square face between
the shafts (Fig. 309).

[Illustration: Fig. 309. Fig. 310. Fig. 311.]

In some cases, also (as in the doorway in the Castle at Durham), there
is a small arch-order which continues down the jambs between the
principal orders, and adds much richness to the effect.

In later examples, two ranges of shafts were often introduced; the outer
ones carrying the orders, and the inner ones having capitals lost under
the main capitals, as if carrying an imaginary order hidden within the
visible mass of the arch. These are, in fact, the parallels of the
supernumerary shafts I have mentioned as often existing in clustered
piers. Thus, in St. Leonard’s Priory, Stamford (a work of the twelfth
century), we find two ranges backed by a plain splayed surface (Fig.
312). In the Galilee at Ely (somewhat later), the second range is backed
by large hollows between salient mouldings (Fig. 310); and again at
Lichfield, the back range is, as at Stamford, placed against a splayed
surface, but relieved by ranges of large toothed ornaments running up
behind each of the front shafts (Fig. 311).

[Illustration: 312.--St. Leonard’s Priory, Stamford.]

The windows also differ from mere arched openings in having a
_functional_ plane, which occupies one order, and is needed to receive
the glazing. The orders are never so numerous in windows as in rich
doorways, rarely exceeding two besides that which receives the glass.
The inner side is usually splayed, to diffuse the light through the
interior. It is not my intention in this lecture to treat in detail
either of doorways or windows; but having stated that a system of
receding arch-orders was originally the origin of window tracery, I will
say a few words in explanation of my statement.

Many early windows and window-like openings--such as those with the
triforium galleries of churches[37]--are divided into two or more
portions by pillars and small arches in the inner plane or order; the
outer order or orders embracing the whole, and the plane of the inner or
functional order forming a second wall-space over the heads of these
subordinate arches. Thus the triforium at St. Bartholomew’s is divided
into _four_ subordinate arches. This window plane, as it may be called,
is often ornamented in different ways, and occasionally even in Norman
work, is pierced. At a later stage this piercing becomes systematic, and
has received the name of “plate tracery,” the _plate_ being the window
plane or order. It is simply the piercing of this plane of the
functional order of the window arch; and as it is clear that this
piercing developed itself into window-tracery, so is it equally manifest
that the plane thus pierced originated in the division of the
window-arch into receding orders; and, consequently, that traceried
windows were a natural result of the conditions of arcuated
architecture. The subject of windows being quite sufficient to occupy a
separate lecture, I leave it for the present to go on with the more
elementary questions resulting from the conditions I laid down at the
outset.

You will have noticed that, having in those prescribed conditions
divided my subject into two great natural heads,--viz. the _arching_
over of openings in walls, and between piers; and the _vaulting_ over of
the spaces enclosed by walls or ranges of piers,--I have hitherto dealt
exclusively with the former; and that, as the forms of piers and
clustered columns are influenced as much by the requirements of the
_vaulting_ as of the _arches_ they have to support, I have been obliged
to leave my description of their forms imperfect; and as it is my wish
to treat of vaulting as systematically as I am able, I must beg you to
allow this incompleteness to remain till it is incidentally filled up as
we proceed with this, the second great elementary division of arcuated
architecture.

It must be clear, even on the most superficial glance, that the vaulting
over of extended areas is a matter of far greater intricacy, and
requiring vastly more thought and contrivance, than the mere arching
over of an opening in a wall; and though its primary elements are
simple, I must beg you to follow me over easy ground,--and ground
already trodden in my previous lectures,--because these early and simple
steps are needful to the due appreciation of the more advanced and
complex ones which we shall presently have to consider.

The simplest elements of vaulting are--first, the covering over of a
rectangular space enclosed between parallel walls by means of a
semi-cylindrical vault, usually known as a “_barrel vault_;” and
secondly, the covering over a space enclosed by a circular wall, by
means of a hemispherical vault or _dome_.

[Illustration: Fig. 313.]

[Illustration: Fig. 314.]

The first is the prolongation of an arch in a direct line at right
angles to its plane (Fig. 313), the second may be conceived as generated
by the revolution of an arch upon its vertical axis (Fig. 314).

I will keep, for the present, to the development of vaulting from the
first of these types. We will first suppose that, while limited by
constructive convenience to some moderate span, we have occasion to
vault over an area of double that width.

The most natural expedient which suggests itself is to divide the space
into two widths by an arcade whose top ranges on a level with the
springing of the vaulting, and on this and the outer walls to place twin
and parallel barrel vaults.

This was a system at first largely made use of, as we may see, in some
of the covered tanks or piscinæ of the ancients, and in the galleries of
the Colosseum. It is clear, however, that this is an imperfect covering
for a single room or hall, not only from its severing it too much into
two separate areas, but from its placing so much of the covering above
the level of side windows, and thus practically reducing the available
height of the walls; not to mention its heavy effect.

[Illustration: Fig. 315.]

Let us see how these imperfections may be obviated.

The solution of the question may have arisen from a different and
accidental case. Let us suppose two corridors, each covered by a barrel
vault, crossing each other at right angles. It is easy to see that these
vaults must, by their intersection, generate angles running diagonally
from corner to corner of the crossing of the corridors, and that these
angles of intersection would assume curves of an elliptical form (Fig.
315).

This square of intersection would in fact be found to be vaulted on a
system previously unthought of.

Let us next suppose _twin_ corridors, severed only by a wall, crossing
two other such corridors, all similarly covered by barrel vaults.
Instead of the simple intersection of our previous case, we now have a
group of four, or _two pairs_ of such intersecting vaults, meeting in
the centre on a mere frustum of the partition walls reduced to a square
pier, from whose angles spring four of those edges of intersection
before described (Fig. 316).

[Illustration: Fig. 316.]

This, then, contains the solution of the problem under consideration,
for, returning to our first case of vaulting a hall of double width, we
may, by repeating as many as we may need of these pairs of intersecting
or “groined” compartments, such as we have generated by the last
process, effect our object in a perfect manner; the vaults being all of
equal height, and the two widths being practically united into one,
while the walls cease to be stunted of their full height, and room is
left in them for windows reaching nearly to their top.

The same process may be applied to an area of any extent by repeating
the ranges of piers, or limited to a single span or to a single
compartment, at pleasure; and in all these cases it has the advantages
of giving all the internal cubic space, and all the height of wall of
which a vaulted area is capable; while, by concentrating the lateral
pressure upon points at convenient intervals, where it may be readily
resisted by external buttresses, it leaves the intervening wall-spaces
at liberty to be pierced by windows, doors, or archways at pleasure.

The Roman builders usually strengthened their vaulting by narrow strips
of brickwork or cut stonework from pier to pier, constructing the rest
of inferior materials. Their groined vaults were similarly fortified at
the lines of intersection; but, as the whole was usually encrusted with
plaster, these constructive expedients had no effect on the appearance.
Sometimes, however, in their barrel vaults (as in the piscina at Baiæ,
mentioned by Professor Willis, and in the corridors of the Colosseum),
we find these strengthening strips appearing as ribs projecting
downwards from the surface of the vaulting, and supported by projecting
piers.

The application of this to _groined_ vaulting is an obvious step, and
adds vastly both to its strength and beauty. Let us suppose a length of
vaulting so divided; we find at once that we are getting into a very
sightly system, and one susceptible of excellent architectural
treatment. Let us then, before proceeding to more advanced or intricate
developments, apply to what we have reached the same process of
architecturalisation which we have gone through for mere arching.

Now, so far as relates to a barrel vault, it is evident that when
divided by transverse ribs, those may be carried by pilasters or by
colonnettes just as the orders of an ordinary arch (Fig. 317); and if
we further mould or otherwise decorate the ribs and continue the
capitals as an impost along the springing line, we have given a very
fair amount of architectural character to the simplest form which
vaulting can assume (Fig. 318).

[Illustration: Fig. 317.]

[Illustration: Fig. 318.]

To pass on to the simplest form of _intersecting_ or _groined_ vaulting,
it is equally clear that columns may be substituted for the square piers
which are its normal supports.

[Illustration: Fig. 319.--Crypt under the Church of the Holy Trinity at
Caen.]

In my theoretical description of this form of vault, I supposed the
springers which are next to the wall to rise directly from its face
(Fig. 316); but in practice it is better that they should rest upon
projecting piers; and it is obvious that for these pilasters or columns
may be substituted. The crypt under the Church of the Holy Trinity at
Caen is a good example of this class of vaulting (Fig. 319). When we
apply the transverse rib to this vaulting, we give it at once a strictly
architectural character, as every compartment is now distinctly defined
(Figs. 320, 321).

[Illustration: Fig. 320.--Crypt under the Choir. View looking West.

Canterbury Cathedral.]

The complete plan of the springer upon a detached pier now takes the
cross form, suggesting the substitution of a cluster of four shafts
round a square, or of a larger column, with a capital broken into the
cross form. Where, however, the weight to be carried was small, as in
crypts whose vaulting supported only the floor above, this enlargement
of the pier was obviated by making the ribs die out at their springing
one into another, and the groin to commence a little higher up; or
sometimes by the awkward expedient of making the outer curve of the rib
_eccentric_ with the inner one.[38]

[Illustration: Fig. 321.--Crypt, Durham Cathedral.]

Where we have already clustered pillars carrying a main arcade, the
presence of vaulting on either side adds a new member to the pier, both
behind and in front; and if, as is usual in churches, the central vault
springs from a higher level, the additional shaft on that side runs up
_through_, or rather _by_, the capital of the pier till it reaches the
higher springing, thus emphasising the division of the bays throughout
their entire height.[39] This multiplication, however, of shafts is by
no means essential, as the ribs may be brought, by a little management,
on to the capital of a single column, which supports the arcades, and on
their other side shafts may be carried up upon corbels to receive the
higher groining.

Having said enough upon this simple case of groined vaulting to show
that it may be made both the source and the vehicle for architectural
treatment of a most reasonable kind; and, as you will readily imagine
that its ribs and their supporting capitals, corbels, and colonnettes,
may receive _any amount_ of sculptured enrichment, and its vaulted
surfaces any degree of decoration in the form of painting or mosaic
work, I will here close my lecture, hoping that, though its
subject-matter may have appeared somewhat dull and its arguments almost
self-evident, it may, nevertheless, have placed simple and familiar
facts before you in a form more systematic than that in which they might
otherwise have presented themselves; and that, like the definitions and
axioms of Euclid, it may be serviceable in preparing the way for more
intricate and less obvious matters of consideration which I shall have
to bring under your notice while following out, in my succeeding
lectures, the principles of vaulting into those more difficult and
ornate forms which became so important an artistic element in the
subsequent developments of Mediæval architecture.




LECTURE XIV.

The Principles of Vaulting.

     Vaulting of spaces of other forms than the mere square--Apsidal
     aisles, St. John’s Chapel Tower, and St. Bartholomew’s Church,
     Smithfield--Chapter-house and crypt, Worcester--Round-arched
     vaulting in its most normal form, as resulting from the _barrel_
     vault and its intersections--Short digression on another simple
     form of vault, the _dome_--“Domed up” vaults--“Welsh” groining--The
     square or polygonal dome--The Round-arched style of the twelfth
     century almost perfect--First introduction of the Pointed arch into
     vaulting--Names of the parts of groined vaulting--Two specimens in
     London of the apsidal aisle, one in the Round-arched, the other in
     the Pointed-arched style--Vaulting a polygon with a central
     pillar--_Ploughshare_ vaulting--The artistic sentiment and
     character of early Gothic vaulting.


In my last lecture I explained the general principles of groined or
intersecting vaulting, and just carried on the subject through its
simplest case,--the covering of a square space, or any repetition of
square spaces, by the intersection of semi-cylindrical vaults; and I
just showed how, by emphasising the outlines of the squares so covered
by means of transverse ribs or angles, and by placing impost mouldings,
pilasters, columns, or colonnettes in the sustaining piers, such a mode
of covering a space might be readily made at once susceptible and
suggestive of architectural treatment.

Let us now proceed to consider the application of the same principles to
the vaulting of spaces of other forms than the mere square.

The next form, perhaps, in point of simplicity is an equal-sided
polygon,--say, for example, an octagon (Fig. 322). We must here suppose
eight cylindrical vaults crossing one another from the opposite sides of
the octagon; and it is clear that their intersecting lines will be the
diagonals or lines joining the opposite angles of the octagon, which
will coincide in position with the transverse ribs. The objection to
this form of vaulting is the low proportion of the arches produced by
these intersections, which, though more than twice and a half the width
of the side arches, only rise to the same height, or about one-fifth of
their span,--a defect which will be remedied by a development I shall
presently have to describe.[40] Just as the half-dome (as seen in the
chapel of the Tower of London)[41] forms a natural covering for an
apsidal termination of a barrel vault, so a portion of a polygon, thus
vaulted, would _appear_ to be the correlative apsidal termination of a
_groined_ vault.[42] A difficulty, however, at once presents itself in
the small height of the vault last described, which is not one-half of
the height of the semicircular vault which it would have to meet. How,
then, is this to be got over? How are the vaults proceeding from the
narrow arches of the sides of the octagon to be brought to range in
height with the wide vault which spans the whole space (Figs. 323 and
326)?

[Illustration: Fig. 322.]

[Illustration: Fig. 323.]

[Illustration: Fig. 324.]

The solution of this difficulty will be better considered by means of a
simple and more familiar case. The intersecting vault in its most normal
form is plain enough in its application to a square compartment, but
becomes difficult when applied to a space longer one way than the other;
yet oblong spaces continually present themselves as requiring to be
vaulted.

Mathematically this is readily met, and that with perfect accuracy, by
making one of the intersecting vaults _elliptical_ instead of _circular_
in its curvature; making, for instance, the narrower arch a semi-ellipse
with its longer semi-diameter vertical. This, however, is an unsightly
form, and was always rejected, though the natural mode of effecting the
object, and though it would give intersecting curves which would be
complete and in vertical planes.

The Roman builders solved the problem at the sacrifice of mathematical
accuracy, by what is called _stilting_ the narrower arch; that is,
raising its springing till its crown becomes level with that of the
wider arch. This is a practical solution of the difficulty, but is not a
very pleasing one, inasmuch as the line of intersection is most
uncouthly twisted, and, in point of fact, begins at considerable height
above the springing of the vault (Figs. 324, 325.)

[Illustration: Fig. 325.]

To go back, however, to our previous case of the apsidal termination of
a vaulted space, it affords a very fair solution of the difficulty by
which we were before encountered; for it is clear that the arches on the
sides of the octagon may be lifted up till their crowns become level
with that of the main vault; and, as the intersecting angles of a
polygonal groined vault coincide with its transverse ribs, we have
nothing to do but to raise from every angle a transverse rib similar, or
very nearly similar, to those of the main vault, and to make the smaller
vaults of the octagon to intersect upon them (Fig. 326). There will be a
little geometrical inaccuracy in the forms of these cells of vaulting;
but, as the angle ribs would assume correct lines, these inaccuracies
would not seriously offend the eye.

[Illustration: Fig. 326.]

There is, however, another method of meeting the difficulty; but before
describing it, I will say a few words on the treatment of other
difficulties resulting from the irregularities in form of spaces which
have to be vaulted.

Let us, as an example, suppose an aisle or corridor passing round such a
polygonal figure as we have been considering. It is manifest that its
compartments will have a form enclosed by unequal sides, or, to say the
least, one side will differ greatly in width from that opposite to it.

The stilting system before-mentioned is the most obvious method of
getting over the difficulty. It may be, that three of the arches
surrounding such a compartment may be about equal, and no great
difficulty would occur as to _their_ intersection; but the fourth,
being far narrower, would have to be stilted to raise its crown to the
level of the others, and its lines of intersection will consequently be
more or less disturbed.

[Illustration: Fig. 327.--St. John’s Chapel, Tower of London.]

[Illustration: Fig. 328.--St. Bartholomew’s Church, Smithfield.]

The difficulty is, in early specimens, increased through the apse being
usually round instead of polygonal; though this does not very materially
alter the case. We have in London two excellent examples of this apsidal
aisle; that in the chapel of the Tower of London[43] (Fig. 327), and
that in St. Bartholomew’s Church in Smithfield (Figs. 328, 329),--the
former of an early, and the latter of a later type.

[Illustration: Fig. 329.--Plan of Apse, St. Bartholomew’s Church,
Smithfield.]

In both, the narrow arches are greatly stilted; and at first sight the
two may appear to be similarly treated; but on closer examination there
will be found to be much difference between them. In the Tower Chapel
the transverse ribs are made to increase prodigiously in width towards
the outer wall, so as to reduce the want of parallelism of the groined
compartments, a very unsightly expedient; and the capitals of the
columns are square, which makes the backs of the arches they support
nearly double the width they present in front: while at St.
Bartholomew’s, the ribs are of uniform width, and the capitals, instead
of being square, have their sides radiating from the centre of the apse,
so as to share with their arches the spreading of their outer side. The
difficulty is really increased in the later work, but is met by more
skilful workmanship. Somewhat similar to the case of the aisle round a
semicircular apse, is the case of vaulting a circular building with a
central pillar. In each, the main surrounding vault, if uncut by others,
would assume the form of a portion of an _annulus_ or _ring_. In the
aisle such a ring would be wide in the opening it surrounds, but in the
circular building its opening would be reduced to the diameter of the
central column or its capital.

This annulus, or curved vault, would become divided in plan into
triangular portions by the transverse ribs which would meet on the
central pillar and the cross vaults, proceeding from the surrounding
arches, would intersect with only the _outer portion_ of the vault, the
_inner portion_ which rests on the pillars being uncut by them, and
assume the form of a concave conoid, something like the flower of the
convolvulus.

[Illustration: Fig. 330.--Chapter-house, Worcester Cathedral.]

[Illustration: Fig. 331. Plan of Crypt, Worcester Cathedral.]

This form of vault is well seen in two instances in the Cathedral at
Worcester. The best known of these is the Chapter-house (Fig. 330), a
circular building, between 50 ft. and 60 ft. in diameter, whose
circumference is divided into ten parts, from which small ribs run
across to the central pillar. The intersecting cells of groining are at
present _pointed_, possibly the result of a subsequent alteration, and
simply intersect with the surrounding vault. In this case the central
conoid is broken into a polygonal form to give piquancy to its otherwise
too unbroken surface. This may be considered the father of our beautiful
polygonal chapter-houses, of which I shall have more to say as I
proceed.

The other instance I have alluded to at Worcester is in the crypt (Figs.
331, 332). In this, the case in question occurs not in a distinct form,
but in combination with an apsidal aisle on the one side, and a vaulted
span, with a central range of pillars, on the other; the last pillar
forming the central point of the semicircular apse, is exactly parallel
in position, and forms very similar groining to that of the
Chapter-house.

[Illustration: Fig. 332.--View of Crypt, Worcester Cathedral.]

The same problem, when applied to a polygon instead of a circle, is open
to two different modes of solution. In the one, the main vault is always
supposed to run from each _side_ towards the central pillar; in the
other, from each _angle_ towards the pillar. I shall, however, have to
go more minutely into this when I come to pointed-arch vaulting, to
which the last-named system more especially applies.[44]

Having now briefly touched upon the most prominent forms of round-arched
vaulting in its more normal form, as resulting from the _barrel_ vault
and its intersections, I will digress for a short time to consider some
of the conditions which relate to what I in my last lecture stated to be
the other most simple kind of vault--the _dome_. I do so, however, not
with any idea of treating at large on a form which should be made the
subject of a separate lecture, but merely to facilitate the explanation
of certain indirect influences which it exercised upon ordinary
vaulting.

A dome in its most typical form stands upon a circular wall; this,
however, is by no means a necessary condition. It may in reality cover a
square or polygonal space just as well; for, suppose a square or a
polygon inscribed within the base of a hemisphere, it is clear, from the
properties of a sphere, that vertical planes erected on the sides of
such square or polygon will cut the hemisphere in semicircles of the
diameter of those sides (Fig. 333). It follows, therefore, that the
walls of a square or polygonal building would intersect with a dome in
the form of semicircular arches standing on each of its sides; and,
consequently, that such a square or polygon will carry a hemispherical
dome, or rather the remainder of it left after cutting the base into a
square or polygon.

[Illustration: Fig. 333.]

For our immediate purpose we will limit the case to that in which the
inscribed figure is a _square_.

[Illustration: Fig. 334.]

[Illustration: Fig. 335.]

Now, a dome cut in this manner by four planes is not a very sightly
form, and needs some embellishment (Fig. 334); but if a horizontal
circle be drawn within it by means of a cornice resting on the crowns of
the supporting arches, it assumes at once an agreeable form, and one
which has been largely used both in Byzantine and in modern
architecture (Fig. 335). My present purpose, however, suggests another
mode of giving sightliness to the squared dome. The lines drawn on its
surface may lie in vertical as easily as in horizontal planes, and by
making such lines pass through the angles of the square, touching the
dome throughout their length, and intersecting one another at its apex,
we obtain a form not wholly unlike a square groined vault; the great
differences being that the intersecting diagonals of a groined vault
assume elliptical curves, whereas these are semicircles; that in the one
they represent an actual angle, while in the other they are arbitrarily
drawn on an unbroken surface; and that the ridges or crowns of the vault
in one case are horizontal, while in the other they are raised and
circular. This mode of vaulting, though frequent in some parts of
France, is seldom found in this country.

[Illustration: Fig. 336.--Goring Church, Oxfordshire.]

There is, however, an instance of it in the vaulting beneath the tower
of Goring Church, Oxfordshire. (Fig. 336).

Though this is not really _groining_, but a disguised dome, there is a
ready process by which it may be, and continually was, converted into
genuine groining.

I have defined the barrel vault as the prolongation of an arch in a
direct line at right angles to its plane.[45] But an arch may be
prolonged in other than a straight line. Let us, in the previous
figure, suppose the arches which rise from the sides of the square to be
prolonged, not horizontally, but in a curve rising as it proceeds, and
so regulated that the semicircle as it moves forward retains its
vertical position, and is guided in its motion by the diagonal lines
drawn in the dome. This process at once generates a new form of vault
(Fig. 337). For each of the triangular gores of the dome we now
substitute a vault, of which every vertical section parallel to the side
of the square is a portion of a circle of the same diameter with those
raised on the sides, while the angles of the intersection of these newly
generated vaults are themselves semicircles. It is a perfectly accurate
geometrical figure, none of whose salient lines are other than portions
of circles, though the ridge or crown lines now become elliptical. It is
a most useful development, as being much stronger than the ordinary
groined vault. Oddly enough, it has--so far as I am aware--no suitable
name. It is usual to speak of such vaults as being “domed up,” but this
is a very rough description. When adapted to the pointed arch, it has
been called by Mr. Petit the Angevine vault. I know no better way of
describing it than as round-arched vaulting with a raised ridge (Fig.
338).

[Illustration: Fig. 337.]

[Illustration: Fig. 338.]

Now, though less obvious at first sight, the very same processes are
applicable either to an oblong, to a tapering four-sided figure, such as
the bay of the aisle of an apse, or even to one of the triangular
compartments of the apse itself, or of a circle.

For, in either case, we have only to cut out the required slice from a
hemispherical dome, to draw the diagonal lines from the angles of such
form to the apex, and then to substitute for the gores of the dome the
vault generated by the motion of the semicircle, produced by the plane
of the sides of the figure parallel to itself, and rising under the
guidance of the diagonal lines (Fig. 339). This process, it will at once
be seen, is capable of solving all the problems of irregular figures
which I have enumerated at an earlier stage in my lecture, without the
aid of stilting, and without giving intersecting curves, which deviate
from the vertical plane, while it avoids the use of the ellipse for any
prominent line (Fig. 340).

[Illustration: Fig. 339.]

[Illustration: Fig. 340.]

[Illustration: Fig. 341.]

The last case I have named--that of the triangular gore of an apse or
circle (Fig. 341)--also solves the difficult case I mentioned at the
beginning of this lecture as arising in the groining of a polygon, owing
to the excessive lowness of the arch formed by the intersecting angles.
These are now raised to the full height of a semicircle, while if half
of such a polygonal vault be used for an apse, it agrees in height with
the main vault without the use of stilting.

It may, however, be mentioned that, as stilting is sometimes most useful
in making room for windows, it was not superseded by this invention;
the two systems continuing to be used at pleasure, and sometimes a union
of the two, which, however, is so arbitrary as to defy definition. The
form last described for a vaulted circle is often used as a variety of
the dome by raising numerous small arches round its circumference, and
giving a sort of fluted or shell-like surface to the dome.

I think I have now described the principal varieties of round-arched
vaulting with two exceptions. The one is that in which the side vaults
of oblong compartments cut the higher and main vault at a level lower
than its crown. This is vulgarly known as “Welsh” groining, and though
not quite pleasing in effect, it is a very legitimate mode of covering
an oblong compartment. It is customary to obviate the unpleasing
coal-scuttle shape of the true line of intersection (Fig. 342) (such as
may be seen in St. Martin’s Church), by making them take the lines given
by vertical planes, and throwing the irregular geometrical curve into
the surfaces of the cells where it does not strike the eye, or perhaps
generating them by the motion forward of the side arch (Fig. 343). This
has been done in the Sistine Chapel, and Mr. Smirke has, I think, done
the same in our Great Exhibition Room. In a ceiling to be decorated with
painting, this form of vaulting possesses the great advantage of leaving
the central range unbroken by diagonal lines.

[Illustration: St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, London.

Fig. 342. Fig. 343.]

The other form I have omitted is the square or polygonal dome, or that
generated by the intersection of vaults running parallel to the sides
of the base, instead of, as in the groined vault, running at right
angles to them (Figs. 344, 345).

[Illustration: Fig. 344.]

[Illustration: Fig. 345.]

The _square_ dome is, in fact, the exact correlation or complement to
the square groined vault. Like it, it is generated by the intersection
of two barrel vaults of the diameter of the sides of the square; but the
parts of such vaults which are retained in the one, are precisely those
which are omitted in the other. The angular lines are the same, though
in the one case the angles _project_, and in the other they _recede_;
and while the groined vault is reduced in its bearing to four points in
the corners, the square dome demands for its support the whole line of
the walls, which, however, it reduces in height to the level of the
springing line; while the other allows them to rise in their centres to
the full height of the vault. In some cases, as in the vaulting beneath
the tower of Grantham Church, “Welsh” groins are united with the
polygonal dome, a form quite applicable to the vaulting of an apse (Fig.
346).

[Illustration: Fig. 346.]

There is another peculiar feature in the square or other straight-sided
dome, viz., that it may be cut by vertical planes, as is the case with
the spherical dome. Thus, if we inscribe within the base of a square or
triangular dome, another square or triangle whose corners bisect the
sides of the original base, and erect upon the sides of this
newly-formed figure vertical planes, these will intersect the dome in
arched forms, and the parts left will give a new form of vaulting,
rising from the angles of the figure, and terminating in an unaltered
portion of the original dome. This form was not unfrequently used,
especially in vaulting triangular spaces (Figs. 347, 348).

[Illustration: Figs. 347, 348.]

I have now gone through all the normal varieties (of which I can think)
of the round-arched vault, and it is time that I should allude to a
great step which, after perhaps the first quarter of the twelfth century
was introduced into their construction. I allude to the addition of a
moulded rib beneath their intersecting angles. It is clear that these
angular lines are both in reality and in effect, the weak points of
plain groining. I have mentioned that the Romans fortified them in
construction, by using in them stronger material than in the rest of the
vault; and the early Norman builders made a feeble attempt to take off
from the dulness of the intersection, where it approaches its apex, by
artificially sharpening the edge in plastering it; for, without this, it
becomes (in a vault where the courses of stone or brick are concealed)
almost invisible.

The great step in advance which I have now to mention provided both the
constructive and the artistic strength which the line required.

It is also clear that any irregularity of form may render these lines
shapeless and unpleasing, and it is an obvious gain from an artistic
point of view, to adopt a system which will at once render them
_pronounced_ and _regular_. While, then, the introduction of the angular
rib was in many cases a departure from geometrical accuracy, it was a
vast gain both in strength and beauty.

In that form of vaulting, which I have defined as that with the _raised
ridges_, no geometrical inaccuracy would arise, the angles of
intersection being semicircular, and in vertical planes; but in the more
ordinary form of vaulting, where these lines are elliptical, that curve
being unpleasing, two courses offered themselves for choice: the use of
segments of circles for the diagonal ribs, or the bringing down the
springing to a lower level than that of the vault. In either case the
true geometrical figure has to be departed from, and the error has to be
thrown into the vaulting-surfaces--a course which subsequently became so
thoroughly adopted as a principle, that it may be received as an axiom
that in ribbed vaulting, where the ridges are not raised, the ribs are
made of such forms as will satisfy the eye, and the vaulting surfaces
made to fit themselves to them as best they may, apart from geometrical
accuracy,--a principle which, though it may at first sight offend the
mathematical mind, has proved in practice so wonderfully useful, and to
offer so many facilities, as to be a sort of _Magna Charta_ to the art
of vaulting.

This step once taken, round-arched vaulting seems to have completed its
work. Square and oblong spaces were vaulted either with mathematical
accuracy on the raised-ridge principle, or with deliberate departure
from such accuracy on the level-ridge principle. Irregular spaces were
covered over by expedients which satisfied the eye, and met practical
conditions tolerably well, and many beautiful works were the results.
The diagonal ribs, too, became a new source of decoration, not only by
means of their own mouldings or enrichments, and through the bosses now
sometimes placed at their point of intersection, but also because they
were suggestive of additional colonnettes, and thus added more richness
and intricacy to the piers; and sometimes they were carried upon
sculptured corbels, as in the cathedral at Oxford. Among the richest
specimens of this vaulting may be mentioned the gateway and the
Chapter-house of Bristol Cathedral, the chancel of St. Peter’s Church at
Oxford, etc.

We have now arrived at a stage of our investigation when we must pause
for the sake of asking ourselves what need or requirement yet remained
unsatisfied which was essential to the perfecting of our arcuated
developments, and what means remained--hitherto unused--by which such
need might be met.

We have followed out our arched construction, and the process by which
it was rendered at once susceptible and productive of artistic beauty,
till we might fancy it to need nothing but the gradual additions of
refined art to render it a perfect style; and it would be both an
interesting and a profitable field of speculation to take up the style
at such a point, and to study how best to clothe it with the charms of
the highest art, irrespective of our knowledge of its historical
destiny; how, in fact, to perfect our round-arched style to the highest
and most refined artistic status; and I feel that any one who could
fulfil such a task would be a benefactor to our art.

The semicircle is unquestionably the typical form for an arch, and one
well suited to the majority of purposes and positions. I therefore wish
well to him who will push a style which claims it as its leading element
to its highest possible pitch of perfection. I should rejoice to see a
round-arched style rendered as perfect, and its accompanying art as
noble, as the Greeks did their trabeated architecture and its
ever-glorious sister arts; nor do I see why such an end should not be
attained, and God speed the man who worthily attempts it!

This task was, in fact, nobly though unconsciously approached by the
artists of the twelfth century; nor can any one examine their works,
particularly from the close of the first quarter of that century,
without being filled with the warmest admiration at their determined
strivings after refinement; their earnest aim to perfect every form, and
to eliminate every footstep of barbaric element; to rid their work of
all rudeness of execution; and in every way within their reach to raise
the architecture they were developing into a really high art.

These earnest and restless strivings, however, had the effect of
rendering apparent to them a defect, both structural and artistic, in
the conditions prescribed by a round-arched style. They had freed
themselves from the trammels of the arbitrary rules of proportion, and
might render their structures lofty or the reverse at pleasure: their
columns might be as short and sturdy as the most archaic Doric, or might
outdo the most elegant Corinthian in the lightness of their proportions;
yet the arch they were condemned to carry was limited in height to
one-half of its own diameter; or, if allowed to exceed this, by means of
stilting, this was evidently but a clumsy expedient, and only suited to
particular positions.

The whole tendency, too, of the onward movement of the art was towards
increased height; and, while walls and pillars might avail themselves to
the full of this upward striving, it was hard that the arch--the very
essence of the style--should be condemned to unalterable stuntiness.
Proportion evidently claimed that the arch should have its fair share in
the increasing height of the buildings, yet the inexorable semicircle
said, “Nay, my proportions are fixed. You may lengthen your straight
lines as you please; but by no law of science can my height exceed
one-half of my width.”

A geometrician might reply that the semicircle might be stretched
upwards into a semi-ellipse with its major axis upright. I do not think
that our Mediæval builders ever tried this dismal experiment, nor do I
know that it was ever attempted, except by the barbarous Parthians, in a
building you will find figured in Mr. Fergusson’s _Handbook_; and so
hideous was the result that one may well suppose it to have been handed
down as a warning to subsequent generations!

Nor was this craving after a loftier arch the result of taste alone.
Constructive motives pointed in the same direction; for it was found
that round arches, when carrying great loads, as those sustaining
towers, etc., were apt to overcome the resistance of their piers; and
many failures were the result. The same was found to result from
_vaulting_ over wide spaces. True it is that the Romans, in the great
halls of their baths, had vaulted over spans of double the width of the
naves of our Norman cathedrals; but this had been effected at the
expense of the utility of their aisles, which were cut up into short
lengths by the ponderous abutments needed to sustain the tremendous
pressure of the central vault. Besides which, the Mediæval builders
aimed at raising the springing of these vaulted naves to a height out of
the reach of the abutment of the aisles. An arch of less lateral
pressure was therefore desired.

Another motive might have led to a similar aim. We have seen what
difficulties and contrivances resulted from the exigencies of vaulting
over irregular spaces where it was desirable that the crowns and
springers of the surrounding arches should range on the same levels,
though their spans might differ to any extent. It was clear, then, that
an arch of more elastic proportions was the grand _desideratum_.

The claims, then, of _proportion_, of construction, and of geometrical
convenience, all took the same direction, and demanded an arch of
variable proportions.

This three-fold demand was met by the introduction of the _Pointed
arch_.

To apply this to our main subject of _vaulting_, we at once see that, in
addition to constructive advantages, the arch could now he proportioned
in height to its supporting piers, and the unequal sides of the vaulted
spaces could now be arched in such a manner as to satisfy the
exigencies of the vaulting without the necessity of resorting to awkward
contrivances; so that an accession was obtained at once of strength,
beauty, and facility of application.

I have called the use of diagonal ribs the _Magna Charta_ of the art of
vaulting; but it must share this honour with the Pointed arch. Let us
now proceed to trace the progress of the art under this double charter
of liberty.

The first introduction of the Pointed arch into vaulting seems to have
been made without a full consciousness of its advantages, and rather
with a view to strength and general beauty than to the convenience of
covering irregular spaces, for in many early specimens--as originally in
the Cathedral of Sens,[46] and in the work of William of Sens at
Canterbury,[47]--the round arch continued to be used in the narrow bay
against the walls, while the pointed arch was used for the wider spans.
In nearly all English specimens, however, full advantage was at once
taken of the newly-attained freedom: thus, at St. Joseph’s Chapel, at
Glastonbury,--a work otherwise purely round-arched,--the groining
assumes throughout the pointed form, the narrow bays being especially
acute.[48] The same is the case at St. Cross, another very early
transitional work,[49] and in the nave and transepts of St. David’s
Cathedral[50] (erected about 1180), though the groining was never
carried out, we have the preparations for it with pointed wall-ribs in
the sides, while the round arch is mainly used beneath. I shall,
therefore, disregard this occasional inconsistency.

[Illustration: Fig. 349.

A. Transverse ribs. B. Diagonal ribs. C. Wall ribs. D. Ridge ribs.]

Before going further, I will, to prevent mistake, give the names of the
parts of a groined compartment (Fig. 349). The main ribs from wall to
wall are called by us _transverse ribs_; by the French, _arcs
doubleaux_. Those which pass from angle to angle, intersecting in the
middle, we call _diagonal ribs_; the French, _arcs ogives_. Those which
adhere to the wall, we call _wall ribs_; the French, _formerets_. If
there is a rib or moulding along the apex, we call it a _ridge rib_; the
French, a _lierne_. The latter, however, does not exist in early
examples. Other features appear as we proceed, but I limit my first list
to the simpler forms of vaulting. The French names are found in the
treatise of Philibert de l’Orme, a work of the sixteenth century;
whether they have been traditionally kept up I do not know, but they are
now universally adopted by French writers on the subject.

I will just go over our leading cases, already treated of, showing the
changes effected in them by the use of the pointed arch.

In the square groined space with level ridges there was no alteration
excepting in the form of the arch, and in the more finished mouldings
made use of. The diagonal ribs often took the form of a round arch, but
this depended wholly on the proportions of the surrounding pointed
arches.

As the diagonals were not formed by elliptical curves, it followed that
the vaulting surfaces were not portions of cylinders, and that an error
had to be thrown into them. In fact, they were filled in from rib to rib
without any view to purely geometrical forms.

When the pointed arch is applied to an oblong compartment, or to the
sides of a polygonal apse, its advantage becomes more manifest; for the
power of making the narrow arches against the walls as high as we please
wholly removes the difficulty which we encountered while limited to the
round arch, and that without the _necessity_ of stilting, though the
convenience which the last-named method offered for the introduction of
windows still led to its frequent use.

The irregular compartments of an apsidal aisle ceased now to present
difficulties, as all their arches could be made of equal height.

It is curious that, while we have in London two specimens of such aisles
in the round-arched style (those in the Tower of London and St.
Bartholomew’s), so have we also two in the pointed arched style, and
those very different indeed in their treatment. The aisle round the apse
of Westminster Abbey has compartments enormously wider on one side than
on the other, and this is met simply by the varied proportions of the
arches (Fig. 350); while that surrounding the round portion of the
Temple Church[51] has double as many compartments as there are pillars
in the arcade, and, consequently, behind every arch of the great arcade
is a groined compartment which is nearly square, while behind every
pillar is one of a triangular plan, vaulted in a peculiar manner from
its corners without any ribs between the transverse ribs.

The vaulting of a polygon with a central pillar assumed now a form of
exquisite beauty. Its two special types in its simpler form are the
Chapter-houses at Salisbury and Westminster,--truly a _par nobile
fratrum_,--and claiming special attention as showing the extraordinary
beauty attained by the use of ribbed vaulting united with the pointed
arch.

[Illustration: Fig. 350.--Westminster Abbey. Vaulting of Aisle round
Apse.]

[Illustration: Fig. 351.]

[Illustration: Fig. 352.]

I have already mentioned that in this form of vaulting

[Illustration: Fig. 353.--Interior of the Chapter-house, Westminster
Abbey.]

there is a choice between two methods of effecting it: either by
supposing the main vault to span from _wall to pillar_ or from _angle to
pillar_ (Figs. 351, 352).

The former is, on a _primâ facie_ view, the more natural, but it has the
disadvantages of breaking the chief side of the vaulting compartment
which rises from the corners into a resalient angle, and also of
rendering the main ribs from these angles across to the pillar, in one
half of their length _diagonal_ ribs, and in the other _transverse_; and
of making one half represent a _projecting_ and the other a _receding_
angle, while the _angle_ ribs of the outer half meet the _transverse_
ribs of the inner half of the vault.

These objections are entirely removed by supposing the main vaults to
run directly from the angle to the pillar. In either case the ridge
which surrounds that half of the vault which springs from the pillar
takes the form of an inner octagon.

In the first case, the sides of this are parallel to the walls, while in
the second they take an intermediate direction; the angles of the inner
octagon being opposite the centres of the sides of the outer one, and
_vice versâ_.

The vaulting compartments which rise from the angles of the great
octagon are precisely similar to the opposite ones which rise from the
pillar, and the ribs which rise from the angles to the pillar are
throughout _transverse_ ribs, while the angle ribs from each side duly
meet one another.

I exhibit a view of the interior of the Chapter-house, Westminster (Fig.
353), to show the beauty of this form of vaulting. Few forms, in fact,
in any style of architecture present such beauties as an octagon
vaulted in this manner; and I am happy to think that our London
specimen, which has been lost for the last century or more, will now
very shortly be restored to its original form and condition.

I have already mentioned that in all these forms of vaulting,--that is
to say, those with level ridges,--owing to a geometrical error resulting
from the use of circular curves for all the ribs, the filling in of the
vaulted spaces must be artificially shaped to fit those curves.

The use, however, of a form of vaulting analogous to that before
described as having _raised_ ridges would obviate this inaccuracy.

Suppose, for example, an oblong compartment with pointed arches of
similar proportions on all its sides and on its diagonals, and the
vaults of each cell generated by the motion of the curve of the
surrounding arches towards the point of intersection, guided by the
diagonals, we obtain at once a vault with pointed arches and raised
ridges, the precise correlative of that before described with round
arches and raised ridges, and one in which the filling of the vaulted
spaces assumes a systematic and accurately geometrical form (Fig. 354).

[Illustration: Fig. 354.]

The proportions of the arches are not essentials, but where the narrower
arches approach the height of the wider ones, a curious effect is
produced on the form of the ridge, which, always elliptical, becomes
then so obviously so as to be unpleasing.

This form of vault was of very frequent use, though the exact method of
filling in the spaces was not rigidly adhered to. Its disadvantages are,
that it either limits the height of the walls available for windows, or
runs up so high into the roof as to interfere with its construction. It
is in many cases, however, a very convenient, as it is a very sightly,
form of vaulting.

Even the simple form of vaulting with level ridges is not always
convenient for windows, particularly in clerestories, where they have
often to fill the whole space. This led to the practice of stilting the
wall-rib to such a degree, as to have the effect of twisting the groined
surface of the cross vault to an extraordinary extent. This may be seen
in the vaulting of the cells adjoining the clerestory at Westminster
Abbey, and at St. Saviour’s, Southwark (Fig. 355). This twisting of the
surface has received the very appropriate name of _ploughshare_
vaulting.

[Illustration: Fig. 355.--St. Saviour’s, Southwark. Vaulting of cells
adjoining the clerestory.]

The liberty which was felt in dealing with the surfaces of
vaulting-spaces, when once the salient lines became emphasised by ribs,
led to the practice of the “doming up,” as it is called, of those
spaces, whether the ridges were raised or level; that is to say, that
each course of the filling-in stonework was often laid on a curve, so as
to increase the strength of the work, by rendering every course a kind
of arch from rib to rib.

I must, however, reserve to my next lecture a description of many of the
forms which the vaulting of this period assumed, and a number of
practical facts relating to it; as well as the pursuit of the subject
into its more advanced history; where, instead of limiting its features
to such as originated in obvious and functional utility, others were
added for purely decorative purposes. The subject is so extensive that I
am compelled to divide my lecture upon it abruptly.

Let us, then, pause here and consider for a moment the artistic
sentiment and character of the stage at which we have arrived. I will
suggest, in passing, that this stage, in which no architectural features
were introduced for mere purposes of decoration, and which consequently
leaves wide vaulting-spaces, is peculiarly suited to the extensive
introduction of the works of the sister arts of painting and mosaic,
which may be used almost as freely here as in the Byzantine domes. The
point to which, however, I desire to direct your attention is rather the
_purely architectural_ sentiment.

Small as is the difference of principle between the later Norman
vaulting and that under consideration, the impression produced upon the
mind is entirely changed. The one suggests weight and pressure
systematically met and resisted; in the other those forces appear to
have vanished; and the effect suggested is rather a shooting boldly
upwards, like the growth of a tree, than any downward pressure towards
the earth. True it is that, in the decorative treatment, a colonnette is
placed under every rib or group of ribs as its artistic support; yet, in
its effect upon the imagination, the action is reversed. It is not the
column bearing the weight of the arched ribs, but the latter springing
vigorously upward from the column.

Who, while viewing a stately tree in the pride of its growth, ever
thinks of its _weight_, or of the pressure of its boughs upon the stem?
It is with its _upward soaring_ that the mind becomes impressed; and
just so it is with the interior of a Gothic cathedral. The perfection
with which all physical forces are met has to the mind the effect, not
merely of having annihilated, but of having actually _reversed_ them. So
that upward striving, stately growth, and heavenward aspiration are the
ideas customarily suggested as illustrating the impressions produced.
The lofty avenue, with its intersecting branches, has become the chosen
similitude to which it is popularly likened, and it has been universally
received as the form of architecture most expressive of the heavenward
soarings of our religion.

No one who contemplates our glorious Abbey Church of Westminster, and
lays his soul open to its inspiration, can fail to feel sentiments in
harmony with those suggested by the cognisance of its saintly
founder--selected as if in anticipation of its future glories--the
symbol of our religion surrounded by martlets, whose feet are erased in
token that they have lost all tendency to rest on earth, but, like the
aspirations of Christian worship, ever mounting on the wing towards the
supreme object of adoration, and

    “Flying up to Heaven gate ascend,
     Bear on their wings and in their notes His praise.”




LECTURE XV.

The Principles of Vaulting--_continued_.

     Certain practical points concerning vaulting--Ribs of early and
     late vaulting--Filling in of intermediate surfaces or
     cells--Methods adopted in France and England--Sexpartite
     vaulting--Crypt of Glasgow Cathedral--Choir at
     Lincoln--Chapter-house, Lichfield--Caudebec, Normandy--Octagonal
     kitchen of the Monastery, Durham--Lady Chapel, Salisbury--Segmental
     vaulting--Temple Church--Lady Chapel, St. Saviour’s,
     Southwark--Westminster Abbey--Intermediate ribs--Presbytery at
     Ely--Chapter-houses of Chester and Wells--Exeter
     Cathedral--Cloisters, Westminster--“Liernes”--Ely
     Cathedral--Chancel, Nantwich Church--Crosby Hall and Eltham
     Palace--Choir at Gloucester--Winchester
     Cathedral--Fan-vaulting--Cloisters at Gloucester--King’s College
     Chapel, Cambridge--Divinity Schools, Oxford--Roof of Henry VII.’s
     Chapel, Westminster--Ideal of its _design_.


My last lecture brought the subject of vaulting to its full _functional_
development,--that which contains all elements whose origin can be
traced to the demands of utility, but none which have been introduced
purely for decorative purposes. In my present lecture I must supplement
what I then treated of with some cases of its application which I had
not then time to detail, and then proceed to carry on my subject into
its more distinctly decorative developments.

Before, however, I proceed further, it may be advantageous--though
construction does not, perhaps, come within the range of lectures in
this Academy, excepting so far as it exercises an influence upon
form--to say a few words on certain practical points which are
necessary to the full understanding, even of the artistic portion of the
subject we are considering.

In the earlier forms of vaulting, the entire strength lay in the
continuous arched surface, which was constructed of brick or of stone,
or of rubble bonded at intervals with brick or stone; the rubble or
stone being often of the cellular material called tufa, which was much
used by the early builders on account of its lightness as well as the
tenacity with which it united itself to the cement.

Transverse ribs were next introduced at intervals to strengthen the
wider spaces; and, at a later period, the angles were similarly
fortified.

[Illustration: Fig. 356.]

[Illustration: Fig. 357.]

These ribs, in early examples, sprang distinctly as separate arches from
the impost, the vaulting passing over them (sections, Fig. 356). At a
later period--even in round-arched vaulting--we find the practice coming
into vogue of uniting the ribs, and even the springers of the vaulting
itself, by cutting them at the base out of the same blocks of stone. We
see an early specimen of this in St. Bartholomew’s Church (Fig. 357).

When the ribs became more numerous, it often occurred that five or even
eight of them had to spring from one group of capitals; and at times
three at least (and subsequently more) from a _single_ capital. It is
clear that in such cases the three or more distinct forms could scarcely
retain their separate existence, but that being united in their lower
portions in a single block, their forms would, more or less, die one
into another. Though we can trace this process in Norman work, it was
not completely established till some time later.

[Illustration: Fig. 358.]

[Illustration: Fig. 359.]

It will be better understood by means of Fig. 358, in which a transverse
rib, two diagonal ribs, and two wall ribs meet at their common springing
line, and so intersect and unite one with another as to produce a
section at the base composed of portions of them all. Now, a drawing of
this group of ribs will at once show that their combined and united form
must extend to some considerable height above the springing; and so far
as it reaches, which is often some 8 feet or 10 feet in height, they
cannot possess an individual existence (Fig. 359). To this height, then,
it is customary to build the group of ribs in horizontal courses, and
only to commence the radiating arch-joints where the ribs clear
themselves one from another, which usually occurs at one level, though
in vaults of great irregularity one rib often clears itself at a lower
level than another.

In setting out the relative position of the ribs upon the common
springing level, great skill and judgment are requisite, or they will
clear themselves one of another so irregularly as to cause great
difficulty and needless twisting in the filling in of the vaulting
surface. If you set out on plan the side lines of two ribs (Fig. 360),
and lay down the true position of the mouldings of _one_ of them, it is
clear that, if the curvature

[Illustration: Fig. 362. Fig. 360. Fig. 361.]

of both were equal, the second rib should be set out with its back line
at an equal distance from the points at which the plans of the adjoining
lines would intersect; for, in following the curve, both would at a
given height reach a point vertically over that intersection, and so the
filling in would have a proper starting-point, which would not be the
case if they reached that vertical line at different heights. As,
however, the diagonal rib (where the ridges are level) has to travel
farther to reach a given height, its springing section has to be set
_farther back_ to make it reach the vertical line over this point of
intersection at an equal level with the transverse rib. The wall rib in
a square vault would be similarly placed with the transverse rib; but in
an oblong vault, as it would travel a _less_ distance to reach a given
level, its springing section must be placed _forwarder_ than that of the
transverse rib, and, of course, _greatly_ forwarder than the diagonal.
This is easily adjusted by drawing the curve of the back of the rib,
whose position is first determined, drawing against it the vertical line
of its intersection with the next rib, and then, from the apex point of
the adjoining rib, to draw its curve through the point of intersection,
which will give on the springing line the distance _backward or forward_
at which the springing section of that rib should be placed (Fig. 361).

The ribs of all vaulting of early date are square and flat at the back;
the vaulting, which is often very thick, passing over and resting upon
their backs. In later works the ribs were usually deeper from intrados
to extrados, and were notched, or as it is technically called,
“rebated,” to receive the vaulting, or at least the lower part of its
thickness (Fig. 362); for where the surface was not intended to be
plastered, the wrought stonework was often a thin casing covered over
above by a thicker mass of rough work. The curvature of the courses of
wrought stone enabled them to be set without the use of continuous
timber centering, and this inner facing, once finished, would itself
form a substantial centering for the outer rough vault.

At a later period this outer thickness was dispensed with as a
superfluous load. In all cases the hollow space against the wall behind
was filled in solid to a certain height to strengthen the haunches of
the vault.

The ribs now became beautifully moulded, and sometimes decorated with
carving. In early works, as at St. Cross;[52] St. Peter’s, Oxford; St.
Joseph’s Chapel at Glastonbury;[53] and in the aisles at Canterbury, the
old Norman chevron was continued in the ribs. The meetings and
intersections of the ribs at their apex were usually ornamented with
bosses, and beautifully carved. These bosses assumed many varieties of
form--sometimes a small rosette, or a little tuft of foliage, merely to
decorate the centre of the intersection without covering the mouldings;
sometimes the mouldings themselves return round a central opening, with
or without foliage; sometimes a head of part of a figure was added to
the last-named form in each angle, nearly at the plane of vaulting;
sometimes beneath such moulded boss a disk was attached with or without
foliage, as if to form a cover to the central opening; indeed, it was
occasionally actually the moveable cover of such an opening. In England
the usual form is a group of foliage covering the intersection, and
frequently containing figure sculpture. Westminster Abbey furnishes
admirable examples both of the foliated and sculptured bosses.

As regards the intermediate surfaces of the vaulting, a curious
difference is found to obtain between the methods adopted in France and
in England.

In France the courses of stone run parallel to the ridges, as would
naturally suggest itself from the original intersecting vaults (Fig.
363); while in England they often take an irregular direction, as if
suggested by placing them at right angles to an imaginary centre line of
each triangular space, though really deviating much and irregularly from
such a rule.

[Illustration: Fig. 363.]

The French seem much offended by the appearance of the English system;
and I remember feeling in the same way when I first saw the French
method. The latter seems to throw undue pressure on the diagonal ribs,
while the English mode appears to throw it more equally on _all_ the
ribs; throwing it, in fact, down into the direction of their
meeting-point.[54]

I will now describe a form of vaulting which, though it originated
during the round-arched period, seems more properly to belong to that
now under consideration. We have seen that the arches of churches were
frequently arranged in _pairs_; the piers alternating in size and
design. Supposing each arch to be about half the width of the nave, each
_pair_ of arches would form a square on the plan; and, though such a
square space may be, and often was, divided into two oblongs in the
vaulting, it is equally natural to vault it as a single square. As,
however, this leaves the alternate piers unrepresented in the vaulting,
it became frequent to carry across from this intermediate pier a single
transverse rib crossing the diagonals at their point of intersection,
and between it and those diagonals to introduce oblique vaulting cells,
whose ridges strike from the centres of the half-bays to the point of
intersection.

[Illustration: Fig. 364.]

[Illustration: Fig. 365.]

[Illustration: Fig. 366.]

Dr. Whewell, followed by Professor Willis, has given this the name of
“_sexpartite_” vaulting (Fig. 364), ordinary vaulting being
_quadri_partite, as having four cells. It is obvious that, in a square
building of two bays on each of its sides, this may be carried out on
all four sides, and thus become an _octo_partite vault (Fig. 365);[55]
or, as in the aisles of Lincoln Cathedral, it may be adopted on one side
only, and so be _quinque_partite (Fig. 366).

These forms of vaulting were most frequent during the transitional
period; that is to say, during the latter part of the twelfth century.
Thus it is used in the work of William of Sens at Canterbury, and by
Bishop Hugh at Lincoln, and preparations were made for it at St.
David’s. It was, however, continued at Lincoln in the great transept,
and in the aisles of the nave, which are of later date; and we have an
instance of it at Westminster, as late as 1250, in the Chapel of St.
Faith.[56]

The same principle was applied, in a varied form, at the east end of the
Priory Church at Tynemouth, where, though the bays have ordinary
vaulting, the eastern wall is divided into three parts, corresponding
with the windows, over which cells of vaulting are formed, converging to
the intersecting point of the compartment.[57] Curiously enough, we find
the same arrangement repeated a century and a quarter later in the crypt
of St. Stephen’s Chapel, in the Palace of Westminster.

[Illustration: Fig. 367.]

In the Lady Chapel at Auxerre the same idea is carried out still
farther, the vaulting, square in plan, having two of its sides divided
into two cells each, as on the sexpartite principle, and the other two
into _three_ each, as those above referred to, making in all a
_deca_partite vault (Fig. 367). If _all_ sides had the threefold
division, it would have become _dodeca_partite, or a vault of twelve
cells.

M. Viollet Le Duc gives a curious instance of sexpartite or septipartite
vaulting united with another form (Fig. 368), for which I know no
definite name, but which is itself a union of the groined vault with
what I have elsewhere called the square dome.

[Illustration: Fig. 368.]

I will describe the last-named vault by a comparison between those of
two corresponding chapels near the west end of Lincoln Cathedral, to the
right and left of the nave.

[Illustration: Fig. 371. Fig. 369. Fig. 372. Fig. 370.]

The two chapels are alike in plan (Figs. 369, 370),--an oblong, each
side of which is divided into two arches. They only differ in that one
has a central pillar and the other has none. The one is simply divided
into four groined vaults on the most customary principle (Fig. 371). The
other is similarly vaulted up to the line of the square, the angles of
which would be represented by the four bosses of the first-named vaults;
but from thence the diagonal ribs, instead of returning downwards on to
a central pillar, continue to rise till they meet in the middle point of
the chapel (Fig. 372). This upper portion, therefore, is the top of a
square dome; and the whole vault may be described as a square dome
penetrated on each side by two Welsh groined cross vaults. This
combination is common in the vaulting under central towers, as at
Lincoln and York; though in these cases the central portion is bounded
by a strongly-marked horizontal line defining the boundary of the
half-groins below, and the square dome above. In the chapel I have been
describing there is no such boundary-line, but the groining compartments
continue till they meet in a point at the top. This system may be
carried out with any number of bays; and we have in the Chapter-house at
York an instance of its application to an octagon. The plan of the
vaulting there is identical (or nearly so) with that of Westminster or
Salisbury, but the portion enclosed within the inner octagon, instead of
turning down to the central pillar, runs up to the point at which all
the arched lines would meet in the centre (Fig. 373).

[Illustration: Fig. 373.--Chapter-house, York.]

The relation between the vaulting of the Chapter-houses of York and
Westminster is, in fact, the same as that between the two chapels at
Lincoln just described. In each case we see how similar forms may be
covered over with vaulting nearly identical in plan--with or without a
central pillar at pleasure.

There is a parallel case in the crypt of Glasgow Cathedral, in which the
compartment is divided on three of its sides into _two_, and on the
other into _three_ arches.

This crypt is a work in which the architect would appear to have
revelled in self-sought perplexities, and to have solved them, one after
another, with singular success.

[Illustration: Fig. 374.--Glasgow Cathedral. Plan of vaulting of the
Crypt under the Choir.]

The portion of the crypt which represents the choir overhead is really
one of the most lively and amusing pieces of vaulting I know (Fig. 374).
It consists of _ten_ bays; and, as the east end is necessarily divided
into _two_ bays for the support of those above, nothing would have been
more natural than to have placed an intermediate row of columns down the
centre, dividing the whole into two ordinary ranges of vaulting. But
no, the architect would have lost his fun by any such commonplace
scheme, and _we_ should have lost a very pretty and instructive puzzle.

Beginning at the east end, he first cut off a space two bays long, then
a second of three bays long, then a single bay, then another space of
three bays, and finally a single bay at the west end; while to each of
his groups of three bays, he gave a central column, and repeated the
threefold division on its east and west sides. These square spaces,
then, each of whose sides is divided into three, became the key-notes of
his scheme, and most ingeniously and beautifully he vaulted them. The
principle followed is really, however, nothing more than an adaptation
of the ordinary mode of dividing a square into four smaller squares of
groining, to a space whose sides are divided into _three_ instead of
_two_ (A). The central square resting on the column remains unaltered,
but the sides have each _three_ cells, the transverse ribs from the
central column being bifurcated at their apices, and instead of going
across to an opposite pillar, spread right and left to the _two_
pillars, while the main diagonal ribs remain unaltered. These are met at
their apices by half-diagonals coming obliquely from the same pillars in
the sides. The result is a star-like arrangement of an exceedingly
pleasing, though at first sight, intricate character.

Adjoining one of these beautiful squares comes the compartment first
alluded to (B). It is a very parallel case to that last described. On
three sides it is the same as the Lincoln chapel, with a portion of a
square dome instead of a central column (excepting only that this has
the boundary-line), while the fourth side, having _three_ divisions
instead of two, is dealt with precisely as has been described in the
preceding case. Amongst these intricate compartments are alternated
single bays, each divided transversely into three squares of ordinary
groining; and the perplexity of the effect of the crypt arises not so
much from the difficulty of any of the forms of vaulting, as from the
constant change from one form to another, no two adjoining divisions
being alike. The whole is carried out with excellent detail, and forms a
most beautiful and interesting interior.

[Illustration: Fig. 375.--Choir, Lincoln Cathedral.]

The subject of puzzles in vaulting suggests a notice of that of the
choir at Lincoln, where the architect (De Noyes) seems to have put
himself out of the way to make an easy matter difficult; for, instead of
groining his oblong bays in the usual way, he has made each cell strike
obliquely to points dividing the central ridge of the bay into three
equal parts (Fig. 375); so that neither the cells nor the diagonal ribs
from either side ever meet one another, but each cell is met by an
intermediate or an oblique transverse rib from the opposite side.
Professor Willis, in his peripatetic lecture there in 1848, called the
architect “a crazy Frenchman,” it being then thought that he had been
brought over by Bishop Hugh of Burgundy; but it has since been
discovered that he was a member of a Norman family long settled in
Lincolnshire; and the beauty of his work is such that we may well
excuse this freak of eccentricity, and wish that this form of craziness
was more prevalent amongst ourselves!

A curious effect is produced by carrying vaulting out accurately in a
circular aisle or corridor, where it gives the diagonal ribs a twisted
line, bending them out of the vertical plane. This is well seen in the
apsidal aisle in the Cathedral at Bourges, both in the church itself and
the crypt.

I will only notice two or three more varieties of this stage of
vaulting, and those of a miscellaneous character.

The Chapter-house at Lichfield is an elongated octagon (Fig. 376), one
of its sides on either hand being double the length of the others, and
divided into two bays. The vaulting is a curious elongation of that of
the regular octagonal chapter-house: a cell on either hand being
interpolated, and the ribs all converging obliquely to the central
pillar.

[Illustration: Fig. 376. Chapter-house, Lichfield.]

[Illustration: Fig. 377. Kitchen of the Monastery, Durham.]

At Caudebec, in Normandy, we have, though of much later date, a hexagon
vaulted much as our own chapter-houses, but with a pendant substituted
for the central pillar, and ingeniously suspended by a long stone from a
constructional vault above.

At Durham, in the octagonal kitchen of the monastery, we have a curious
piece of vaulting planned with a view to a central ventilating lantern
(Fig. 377). The ribs run from every corner at right angles to the side
of the octagon, and consequently meet the third angle from that from
which they set out, and their intersections leave an octagonal opening
equal in diameter to one side of the original octagon in the centre, and
this is strong enough to support the required lantern or louvre.

The vaulting of the Lady Chapel at Salisbury is remarkable for the
extraordinary slenderness of the columns which support it, being thin
Purbeck marble shafts of great height, reducing the width of the chapel
by cutting off a very narrow range of vaulting from either side.
Somewhat similar in idea is the vaulting of the crypt beneath the Sainte
Chapelle at Paris, where, to avoid the segmental vaulting which would be
the natural result of its limited height, the span is reduced by a range
on either side of small pillars;--in this case so near the wall as to
necessitate a great amount of stilting, and the introduction of a kind
of tracery beneath the transverse ribs to give abutment to the central
vault.

I should, in passing, mention, that segmental vaulting is very frequent
at this period, where the height is limited; and that, even where the
main arches are not so, the diagonal ribs frequently assumed that form;
indeed, it became necessary wherever the length of a diagonal exceeded
double the height of its arch.

Taking this stage of the history of vaulting as a whole, we have
peculiarly favourable opportunities of studying it here in London:
possessing, as we do, excellent examples of all its most leading
varieties.

In the Temple Church we have the curious circular aisle already
described, being a specimen of the earliest era of true pointed-arched
vaulting; while in the eastern portion, dating some forty or fifty years
later, we have the most typical specimen conceivable of vaulting, all
springing from a given level, and with level ridges. It is rendered the
more marked in character by the division of the three ranges of vaulting
by means of the pier-arches, which, coming close under the vaulting,
assume the character of enlarged ribs.

Very similar to the last-named is the vaulting of the Lady Chapel of St.
Saviour (or St. Mary Overie), Southwark (Fig. 378). The only striking
difference being the number of spans and the absence of pier-arches, so
that it assumes the form of a space divided into twelve equal and square
compartments, and carried by six similar columns.

[Illustration: Fig. 378. Lady Chapel, Southwark.]

In the choir of the same church we have an excellent specimen of
clerestory vaulting, with oblong compartments and stilted side-cells,
worked in a manner somewhat different from the usual ploughshare system.

In the eastern half of Westminster Abbey, including the transepts, we
have the vaulting of the oblong space (with ploughshare side cells), and
of the square space, and of the four-sided space of all degrees of
irregularity; we have apses of two dimensions, viz., the great apse of
the Sanctuary and those of the radiating chapels, which are as beautiful
specimens of the apse vault as can be found; we have, in the
Chapter-house, the vaulted octagon, with central pillar carried out in
noble proportions and with excellent detail;[58] while in the crypt
below is a repetition of the same vaulting, of depressed proportions,
and carried out with the severest simplicity.

[Illustration: Fig. 379.--St. Faith’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey. View
looking East.]

We have in its inner vestibule two oblong vaults

[Illustration: St. Faith’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey. View looking
west.]

placed side by side, one apparently the square, and the other of the
narrowest proportions; and in the outer vestibule beautiful miniature
vaulting, on minute columns, and with the segmental arch; while in St.
Faith’s Chapel, hard by, we have an excellent example of the sexpartite
vault (Figs. 379, 380). Parts of the aisles, too, are remarkable for the
subdivision of their bays by transverse arches of the double orders of
mouldings, giving a great nobleness and strength to their effect; and
all these varieties are carried out with admirable detail and studied
art.

It would lead me into too great length if I were to go into the moulding
of the ribs, their combinations where grouping and intersecting one
another in the springers, and the mode in which the shafts are arranged
for their support. My illustrations will, however, do much to explain
this. I must not omit to mention that in French buildings, and
frequently in the earlier English specimens, the plans of the abaci of
these shafts assume both forms and positions indicating the general
section and the directions of the ribs they carry,[59] and that this is
even shared by the _bases_; showing that the vaulting was the _very
first_ thing thought of and designed; and that, from the very floor of
the building, it influenced the general design. This was lost in England
by the introduction of the circular abacus.

I have hitherto dwelt wholly upon vaulting which has none but what I
have termed _functional_ ribs; that is to say, such as have a specific
utility, as transverse ribs to mark the boundaries of the bays, and to
strengthen the vault in its main span; diagonal ribs to fortify the
angles of intersection; and wall-ribs to support the vaulting surfaces
at their junction with the walls; and occasionally ridge ribs, though
these more properly belong to the succeeding stage. The next stage in
the history of vaulting is that in which other than merely functional
ribs are made use of--intermediate ribs, in fact, to subdivide the
spaces between those used during the previous period.

[Illustration: Fig. 381.]

[Illustration: Fig. 382.]

In square vaulting, _one_ such additional rib is more usually introduced
in each space (Fig. 381). In very oblong vaults _two_, and even _three_,
were often introduced in the side spaces, though only one in the middle
spaces (Fig. 382). It is clear that this addition necessitates the use
of ridge ribs, as, without them, the point at which the intermediate
ribs meet at their apex would want abutment. So reasonable, indeed, was
this motive, that we often find the ridge rib to have been omitted
between the intermediate ribs and the wall ribs, because there its use
ceases.

One thing which followed the use of these additional ribs was the
curious serrated plan of the filling in. The oblique position of these
ribs would, if the plan of the filling in remained unaltered, cause the
fillet or reveal of the rib nearly to vanish on one side, and to become
very wide on the other. This led them to change the plan.

On looking at the top surface of vaulting where the ribs are visible, it
is at once seen that this was also necessitated by a structural cause,
as without it the filling in would not rest well upon the ribs (Fig.
383).

[Illustration: Fig. 383.]

[Illustration: Fig. 384.--Westminster Abbey. Vaulting west of the
crossing.]

No better specimen of this form of vaulting can be referred to than that
of the presbytery at Ely, built about 1240 to 1250, and the four bays
immediately to the west of the crossing in Westminster Abbey, erected by
Edward I. about 1280 to 1300 (Fig. 384). The latter is the more perfect,
as having level ridges; the former, curiously enough, having ridges to
the side cells which rise from the intersection towards the walls. I may
mention that it is very common for vaulting with intermediate ribs to
have ridges rising rapidly towards the central boss.

The use of these additional ribs became, from the latter part of the
thirteenth century, rather the rule than the exception.

I may mention early specimens of it at Chester, both in the
Chapter-house (Fig. 385) and in the Lady Chapel, the latter with raised
ridges; but in each the addition being only in the side cells. The
Chapter-house at Wells has the intermediate ribs added throughout to
those of the more normal examples at Westminster and Salisbury, giving
its vaulting a peculiarly full and rich, though rather crowded, effect.
Bosses are usually introduced at all points of meeting, adding greatly
to the richness of the whole.

[Illustration: Fig. 385.--Chapter-house, Chester Cathedral.]

Though I have called these ribs _non-functional_, such is the case only
in a limited sense, for, though not necessary, they nevertheless do
their work: they divide and strengthen the vaulting spaces, and tend to
do away with the necessity (if such may be supposed to exist) for any
great thickness of filling in. They form, in fact, a stone framework or
centering, with frequent supports on which the vaulting permanently
rests. Nearly the whole of Exeter Cathedral is groined in this manner,
and excellent specimens, though of rather late date, may be seen in the
west and south walks of the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, and in the
two vestibules through which the cloister is approached. These have the
advantage of close proximity to the eye, which enables one to study them
with facility.

The next step in the history of vaulting may be said to be wholly
decorative in its motive. It is the addition of short cross ribs between
those already described, and arranged in patterns, such as stars, etc.,
round the central bosses, adding much to the complexity and ornamental
character of the vault, and making a farther increase to the number of
the bosses.

Wonderful skill is often evinced in the arrangement of these patterns,
which, traversing the changing planes or surfaces of the vaulting,
produce in the perspective an extraordinary diversity of effect. These
ribs have received from Professor Willis the name of “Liernes,” a term
given by Philibert de l’Orme to the ridge-ribs (perhaps in common with
these), but, as we are short of an English name for these cross-ribs, it
comes in conveniently to our aid. The term means, I believe, in
carpentry, a short joist or rail, serving as a tie to steady other
timbers, which is very appropriate to its use (real or apparent) in
vaulting.

We have a few excellent specimens of this class of vaulting in London;
more particularly that of St. Stephen’s crypt, and of a bay of the
cloisters opposite the entrance to the Chapter-house, both erected in
the first half of the fourteenth century.

In the former, both the intermediate ribs and the liernes are very
subservient in size to the main ribs; which gives an excellent effect:
indeed, I know of no work more studious in design and detail than that
piece of vaulting.

The vaulting of three bays of the eastern limb of Ely Cathedral, built
by Alan de Walsingham at about the same period, is also of excellent
design, as is that of the chancel of Nantwich Church in Cheshire.

I am imitating the last-named to a certain extent in timber in the
vaulting of the nave of Chester Cathedral, where, though the springers
exist, the vaulting has never been completed.

Liernes are not placed at right angles to the surface of the vaulting,
but in a vertical plane; perhaps from the facility it affords for
setting them out on the ground plan.

We find the same cause regulating the geometrical system adopted for
setting out the stones forming the bosses, which had also to contain a
short piece of the impinging ribs. Professor Willis, in his admirable
papers on vaulting, gives in minute detail the method adopted, showing
that, to facilitate the operation, they made the upper surface of the
boss-stone _horizontal_, to serve as a sort of drawing-board on which to
draw the plan of the intersecting ribs. I have tested this in several
instances. In the western part of the nave at Westminster, there being
no outer thickness of stone vaulting, the boss-stones appear, and their
surfaces are horizontal. On sweeping away the accumulation of dust and
rubbish which covers them, I found, sure enough, the centre and side
lines of all the ribs carefully drawn upon them.

In the lierne vaulting at Ely, though there has been an outer thickness
of stonework, it was cleared away in the last century for the sake of
lightness, so that the boss-stones, once concealed, are now visible. On
clearing them from obstructions, I again found, as at Westminster, the
lines of the ribs (here much more complex), carefully set out upon the
top of the stones. Each of these little stone tables, in fact, has drawn
out upon it the bit of the full-size plan of the vaulting which its
surface would contain.

The lierne vaulting, though commencing as early as the first quarter of
the fourteenth century, was so popular as to be continued throughout the
remaining periods of Gothic architecture, used side by side, and often
in union with other and later systems. The same was naturally the case
with ordinary rib vaulting, so that in later times we have at least
_three_ systems used contemporaneously.

I know of no specimens of lierne vaulting more charming than what we see
in the oriels of the halls of Crosby Hall (Fig. 386), and Eltham Palace
(Fig. 387), two sister works, unquestionably the work of the same
architect, in the reign of Edward IV. They are of different plans. The
one consists of five sides of an octagon, the other of a double square.
The latter is on the system I have mentioned as having its central
compartment raised like a square dome, to allow of the passage of the
arch by which it opens into the hall. Both are carried out with the
depressed arch belonging to their late period, and are treated with
exquisite care and taste.

At Gloucester, in the choir, and Winchester, in the nave, this manner of
vaulting assumes a very peculiar form; the side cells falling in at a
low level, as what are called “_Welsh_” groins, leaving a width of
barrel-vault above, which is richly decorated by surface ribs and
liernes.

[Illustration: Fig. 386.--Oriel, Crosby Hall, London.]

That at Gloucester is a work of extraordinary magnificence. Its great
specialty lies in its having two sets of diagonal ribs (Fig. 388), the
one on the ordinary system, the other comprising two bays each, and by
their intersection defining the position of the “_Welsh_” groins. Thus
the whole of the ordinary diagonal ribs, and half of the others, become
mere ornamented mouldings on the surface of the barrel-vault, while to
them is added a vast network of liernes, cutting it into an infinity of
panels, whose angles are marked by a perfect army of carved bosses. The
same was imitated at a later period in the Lady Chapel.

[Illustration: Fig. 387.--Oriel, Eltham Palace, Kent.]

[Illustration: Fig. 388.--Gloucester Cathedral. Choir Vaulting.]

In many cases, as in the western portals at Winchester, the upper
portion of the groining assumes forms in which the lines of the true
ribs seem almost forgotten. This is done to a very vicious extent in the
choir at Wells. I may mention, as a late example of this manner of
vaulting, an exquisitely beautiful chamber adjoining the cloister at
Windsor.

During this period two practices crept into use, to which it is not easy
to assign precise dates, but which worked great changes in the art of
vaulting. The one is the use--especially at first for diagonal ribs--of
a curve drawn from two centres, which gradually brought down the arches
to excessively low proportions. The other practice was the use of
portions of the same curve for several, or even all, of the ribs, either
throughout their height, or at least for their lower part. The
first-named custom was very natural in cases where the height of the
vaults was limited by circumstances, as in St. Stephen’s crypt. The
diagonal ribs here were struck from three centres to the double rib, and
in the next ribs from two to each single rib, and were also slightly
segmental; that is to say, that they made an angle with the vertical
line. They may be said to be a sort of imitation of the ellipse, as also
is the case with the diagonals in the vaulting of the south and west
cloisters at Westminster.

The other practice (_i.e._ the repetition of the same curve for
different ribs) is very curious and important in its results. It
influenced in an extraordinary degree the _plan_ of the vaulting at its
intermediate heights. Professor Willis has called special attention to
these half-height plans, as a matter of much importance to the effect.

If vaulting were carried out on perfect theoretical principles, and with
the level ridge, these plans would be _rectangular_. The mere
substitution of circular curves, unless made a little segmental, softens
the angle of the square, while any modification of these curves produces
its effect, one way or another, on this half-height plan. Professor
Willis has illustrated this in a very interesting manner from the
variations found in the cloisters at Norwich; a work generally of
uniform design, but which, having been carried out at several different
periods, the habits of the masons had undergone changes which produced
very curious effects in this respect.

I may mention that where the ribs are of the same curve the ridges
cannot be level; but that the use of the two-centred curve enabled them
to repeat the same curve, for the springers, but slightly to change it
above by varying the position of the centre, from which the upper part
of the curve is struck, so as to make the ridges level where it was
desired.

This tendency to the repetition of the same curve led to the development
of a most remarkable variety in vaulting, which especially characterised
its later history in this country. I allude to that extraordinary form
known as _Fan_ vaulting.

It is self-evident that if a number of ribs of equal curvature spring at
equal angles from a single pillar, the plan of the vault at any level
will be a circle or a portion of a circle; and that they may be bounded
at the level of their apex, or at any other level, by a circular
moulding, forming the whole into a figure which I have had occasion to
mention as having been generated at a very different date and from
another cause, in the Norman vaulting of the circular Chapter-house at
Worcester,[60] a figure which I have defined as a concave-sided conoid,
and likened to the flower of a convolvulus.

[Illustration: Fig. 389.]

[Illustration: Fig. 390.]

Now, the vaulting of any space, if set out in square compartments, and
having ribs of similar curvature and at equal distances, may be formed
into a number of portions of this figure by merely drawing semicircles
and quadrants, as the case may be, from apex to apex of the surrounding
arches (Fig. 389).

A remainder of the ordinary vaulting, with rising ridges, exists,
however, above this extemporised fan, and the whole has to be dealt with
artistically on a system suited to the new form.

The general idea of such treatment of a fan or conoid may be said to be
parallel to that of a circular or rose window. The ribs are viewed as
radiating mullions, and are made to multiply in number as the circle
expands, and usually to terminate round the outer boundary with a series
of tracery forms like the heads of two-light windows. A good rose-window
of late date, if imagined to be elastic, and drawn out from its centre
into a conoidal form, would make a good compartment of fan groining; or
a groining fan compressed into a plane would make a good rose-window.
The interstices between the fans are filled up in various ways; either
by circles of somewhat similar design, which sometimes drop down in
little pendent fans, like stalactites from the roof of a cavern; or with
a number of circles fitted together; or by continuing the diagonal ribs
to their intersection with the ridges, and filling in the triangular
spaces with tracery.

It is not, however, essential that the compartments so dealt with should
be _square_ in plan. If _oblong_, the semicircles or quadrants are drawn
from the apex of the narrower and lower arches; and from the same
centres portions of circles are drawn from the apex of the wider and
higher arches, assuming the form of an additional or outer zone of a
rose-window, and intersecting on the line of the cross ridges, and thus
forming a portion cut out of a great fan (Fig. 390). Or the roof may be
described as being formed of very large fans intersecting one another.
Such is the famous roof of King’s College Chapel, at Cambridge, but the
frustums of fans are there bisected by vast transverse ribs, which were,
no doubt, required for strength, owing to the great scale of the
vaulting (Fig. 391).

[Illustration: Fig. 391. King’s College, Cambridge.]

The earliest instance which is known of fan vaulting is in the cloisters
at Gloucester, dating from the beginning of the fifteenth century;
indeed, Professor Willis thinks the invention due to a school of masons
there. It, contrary to the usual practice, is formed with simple arches,
instead of four centres. Each fan has but the transverse and wall ribs
at its springing. At the next stage it forms the diagonal, then two
intermediate ribs, and finally four more on each side of the transverse
rib, and ends in little two-light window-like heads, while the space
above is filled with four large cusped arches, and as many pear-shaped
figures (Fig. 392).

[Illustration: Fig. 392.--Cloisters, Gloucester Cathedral.]

The limits of my lecture will not permit me to follow up this part of my
subject as its importance demands; and my means of producing
illustrations (for which I have heartily to thank several zealous and
talented gentlemen engaged in my office, as well as one of my sons) have
exhausted themselves before this laborious phase is reached.

I have already referred to the Gloucester cloisters and King’s College
Chapel.

The central compartment or crossing of St. George’s, Windsor, is a most
magnificent treatment of an oblong space. The aisles of the same chapel,
with the smaller chapels adjoining, are charming examples, as are the
aisles and small chapels of Henry VII.’s Chapel, and the cloisters of
St. Stephen’s, Westminster. Bath Abbey and Sherborne Minster are thus
vaulted, and a whole century later, appearing long after date, comes the
beautiful ceiling of the staircase to the hall at Christ Church, Oxford
(Fig. 393), a square space groined on a central pillar (Fig. 394).

[Illustration: Fig. 393. Ceiling of the Staircase to the Hall, Christ
Church, Oxford.]

[Illustration: Fig. 394.]

In the construction of the vaulting of these later periods, we have a
curious instance of the manner in which extremes meet. In the earliest
specimens of vaulting, all the strength lies in the vaulting surface
itself. As time went on, ribs were introduced, one after another, to
strengthen and support it, till at length they amounted to a permanent
framework of stone, centering on which the vaulting surface lay.

Now, at length, time has its revenge, and the extreme multiplication of
ribs led to the loss of their uses; the whole, or nearly the whole,
being cut out of the same blocks with the panels; and thus the original
system was reverted to; the vaulting surface becoming again the entire
structure, and the ribs and panels simply cut as ornaments out of its
substance.

The most remarkable production of the fan system of vaulting is the
gorgeous central roof of Henry VII.’s Chapel, a work in which
ingenuity, perplexity, and beauty are united in the most wonderful
manner which can be conceived.

Though it stands quite alone in point of intricacy and magnificence, it
is not the first instance of the use of the peculiar system on which it
is founded. How Fuller could have attributed its origin to the foreign
studies of the King and Bishop Fox, it is difficult to conceive; for,
not only is fan groining itself a purely English invention, but the
special system of _this_ roof has, so far as I know, only English
prototypes.

The earliest of these is the vaulting of the Divinity School at
Oxford,[61] finished about 1480. This was subsequently imitated, though
with the loss of its leading principle, in the choir of the Cathedral
(then the Church of St. Fridewide’s Convent in the same city), a work
which, though popularly attributed to Wolsey, is probably of earlier
date.

I have often looked in vain for the leading principle on which this
wonderful work was designed. Its _construction_ is plain enough; the
difficulty is the ideal of its _design_. Like everything, however, which
is founded on reason, its idea once perceived, it becomes perfectly
simple, and one then only wonders where the difficulty lay.

It was simply as follows:--First imagine, for argument’s sake, that the
architect had intended to divide his space into three spans--a wide and
two narrow ones--like the Lady Chapel at Salisbury, or the crypt of the
Sainte Chapelle at Paris, supporting the vaulting on ranges of thin
pillars (Fig. 395). The setting out of the divisions was about the
following. The whole span being divided into five parts, two were given
to the width of a bay, one to the imaginary aisle, and three to the
central span. The vaulting of the aisles, then, would be in oblongs of
double their width _set lengthway_ of the building, and the central span
in oblongs half as long again as their width _set crossway_ to the
building.

[Illustration: Fig. 395.]

Let us apply to each the rule I have already laid down for the fan
vaulting of oblongs. Beginning with the ideal aisles, from the pillars
and responds and centres draw the lower circles of the fans reaching the
apex of the _narrower_ arches, and the upper circles reaching the apex
of the _wider_ arch (Fig. 396). This gives us an oblong fan vault in its
most normal form.

[Illustration: Fig. 396.]

Then do precisely the same with the wider or central span, and our space
is covered with oblong fan vaulting of the most usual kind. Now, as the
lower arch of the central span is identical with the higher arch of the
side spans, it follows that the fans in the sides (or aisles) are
continued and completed in the central vault, the lower arch of the
small vault being also continued round to complete the design. The
decoration of the smaller fans then is in _two_ stages, and that of the
larger ones in _three_; but, the design of both being continuous, the
one is only an extension of the other.

Had the architect stopped here, no system of vaulting, on the fan
principle, or space so divided, could be more systematic or more simple
in its ideal.

He had no thought, however, of stopping at so commonplace a stage, and
his pillars were designed only to do their work on paper, and then to be
erased. The columns were omitted, and their places supplied by pendants;
but, as such a roof could not stand for a moment, something must be done
to supply the support which the pillars would have afforded.

[Illustration: Fig. 397.--Henry VII’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey.]

This was effected by the introduction of strong transverse arches
crossing the whole chapel, and springing much lower than the vaulting
(Fig. 397). These crossed the narrower spans, striking arbitrarily into
their fans, and uniting themselves with the central vaulting. The
pendants are not to be looked upon as constructionally interfering with
these transverse arches, as they become, in fact, part of them, and the
arches may be supposed to pass through them in an imaginary line, so
that, as in the case of the Lady Chapel at Caudebec, the pendant is in
reality a voussoir, the greater portion of which hangs down below the
face of the vaulting; the small arches upwards towards the wall help to
strengthen and weight the transverse arches at their weakest part.

[Illustration: Fig. 398.--Divinity Schools, Oxford.

Begun 1445. Finished about 1480.]

In the Divinity Schools (Fig. 398) these great arches show themselves
throughout as the supports of the otherwise helpless vault; in Henry
VII.’s Chapel they are visible only in the side vaults, which are
strutted up from them with strong tracery, but their upper portions
penetrate the central vault, and become concealed from view.

The same system is carried into the apse (Fig. 399), and that with the
most surprising skill. The apse is supposed to be a portion of an entire
octagon, with an aisle supported by eight small columns, of which two
are lost by its conjunction with the straight part of the chapel. These
columns being converted into pendants, the structural arches supply, as
before described, the support demanded, but in this case they converge
to the central part of the octagon.

[Illustration: Fig. 399. Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster Abbey, Plan of
Apse.]

The treatment of this point in detail cannot intelligibly be described
in words. It is, perhaps, the most consummately skilled piece of
designing to be found in the whole range of Mediæval vaulting.

I have now completed my running (and all too rapid) sketch of the arched
and vaulted systems of Mediæval architecture, though purposely leaving
to another occasion the subject of domes. The limits of three lectures
have only sufficed to give a somewhat cursory glance at its salient
points, leaving the treasures of its detail to be searched out by the
zealous student.

No subject in the whole history of architecture is so remarkable, or
would more richly repay the investigator. I commend it to your
individual study, and will only add that our own country is more rich in
the variety of its vaulting than any other, and that London is
especially well supplied with objects of study, containing, as it does,
excellent examples of nearly every variety of vaulting, from the stern
severity of the work of King Edward the Confessor in the substructures
of his monastic buildings at Westminster, to that gorgeous and
astonishing work which I have just been describing, and of which we may
boldly assert (whatever may be our individual preferences), that _the
world does not contain its equal_.




LECTURE XVI.

The Dome.

     Non-existence of the Dome in our old English architecture--Highly
     developed forms in France, Germany, and Italy, contemporary with
     our great Mediæval edifices--Suggestions for its introduction into
     our revived and redeveloped Neo-mediæval style--So-called Tomb of
     Agamemnon at Mycenæ--The Pantheon--Temple of Minerva Medica--Torre
     dei Schiavi--Temples of Vesta at Rome and Tivoli--Temple of Jupiter
     in Diocletian’s Palace, Spalatro--Tomb of St.
     Constantia--Baptistery at Nocera--Baptistery at Ravenna--Important
     domical development--“Pendentive Domes”--Early
     specimens--Pendentive domes the special characteristic of the
     Byzantine style--How this originated--Further domical
     developments--Cathedral at Florence--Churches of SS. Sergius and
     Bacchus, the Apostles, and St. Sophia, Constantinople.


It has been my lot to deliver my lectures from this chair in groups so
very detached from one another, as to render it impossible for my
hearers to follow them as a continuous series. In spite, however, of
this disadvantage, I purpose to make my present lecture form a natural
sequence to the last which I had the pleasure of delivering three years
ago.

My last course was on arched construction, and my last lectures were on
vaulting. My present one will carry on the same subject into its
culminating development--THE DOME.

Strongly as my tendencies towards our own Mediæval architecture draw me
towards the modes of vaulting which prevail in our own ancient
buildings, and which formed the subject of my later lectures, I am bound
to admit that the noblest of all forms by which a space can be covered
is the dome; and, much more than this, that of all architectural forms
it is the most sublime and the most poetic, and is susceptible of, and
demands, the highest artistic treatment. I deplore, therefore, its
non-existence in our old English architecture.

This regret, however, is diminished by the abundant evidence we possess
that the dome, though absent from English buildings, was by no means
held to be alien from the contemporary architecture of neighbouring
countries, inasmuch as we possess it in highly developed forms over a
large part of France, in Germany, and in Italy, erected at the same
periods with many of our great Mediæval edifices.

If, then, I am departing from the line I had been taking in tracing out
the history of old English architecture, I am not only supplying a
hiatus in that history, but I trust that I may be able to offer
suggestions for a more practical object--the supplying of that hiatus in
our revived and redeveloped Neo-mediæval style.

In a former lecture, after defining a vault as the covering of a
rectilinear space produced by the motion of an arch parallel to itself,
I defined a dome as the covering of a circular space produced by the
revolution of an arch round its central vertical axis. It follows that,
if the arch so revolving is semicircular, the resulting dome is a
hemisphere.

The revolving arch may, however, be of any form which an arch can
assume. It may be elliptical, parabolic, hyperbolic, cycloidal; or it
may be a pointed, a horse-shoe, or an ogee arch. Any one of these, or
other forms of arch revolving on its centre, will generate a dome of
its own sectional form. The _plan_, too, in spite of my definition, need
not be a circle; it may be an ellipse, or of other forms.

I will not at this stage admit of square-planned, polygonal, or other
straight-sided domes, because it may be doubted whether they are genuine
domes at all, or whether they are not figures resulting from the
intersection of a certain number of ordinary vaults. Anyhow, these are
not generated by the revolution of an arch, so that if they are domes,
my definition is at fault.

Simple, however, as is the hemispherical dome, it does not appear to
have been historically the primeval type; for, strange to say, the
earliest known domes assume, in section, the form of a lofty pointed
arch. I refer specially to that of the supposed tomb of Agamemnon at
Mycenæ, and also to some portrayed on the Assyrian sculptures.

These would hardly come within the range of this lecture, were it not so
curious a fact that the earliest form of the dome foreshadows the very
use to which I would now especially desire to accommodate it.

It is easy to perceive why the pointed arch was adopted in these
primeval domes. They were not built with radiating joints, but in
overhanging courses; and it will readily be seen on comparing their
sections, that for this mode of construction the pointed arch is much
more favourable than the circular; while, as soon as ever the radiating
system was adopted, the semicircle at once became the simplest and most
obvious section.

It is, however, strange to observe how little has come down to us of
the history of domes. From the so-called tomb of Agamemnon--some eleven
centuries before the Christian era--we have scarcely any certain
evidences of their history till we arrive at the Pantheon, erected in
the reign of Augustus, or, as Mr. Fergusson thinks, considerably later.
Yet, as that dome is still the widest (built of solid materials) which
exists, and as both in its construction and its architecture it is in a
high degree artificial, and evinces a period of advanced development, it
follows that it must be the representative of a long series of
antecedent domes progressing from the crude idea onwards to this, the
very highest developed form of the simple dome; for we shall presently
see that there are other forms scarcely foreshadowed by even this
magnificent structure.

[Illustration: Fig. 400.--Plan, Pantheon, Rome.

(_From Fergusson._)]

I may here remark that the dome, like the arch and the vault, having
great outward pressure, requires either a vast amount of sustaining wall
carried up considerably above the springing level, or, in the absence of
this, a tie of metal at, or somewhat above, its springing, or perhaps
several of such ties at different heights. Unlike, however, the arch and
the vault, it is independent of a _keystone_, each circular course of
its structure forming a horizontal arch and keying itself. It may,
consequently, be erected without the aid of centering, and may be
discontinued at any level, leaving a central opening or _eye_.

The Pantheon is the great type of Roman domes (Fig. 400). It is a simple
rotunda of 142 feet internal diameter, the wall being some 20 feet
thick. The wall is about 72 feet high to the springing of the dome, and
continues above that level about 28 feet more.

The dome is a semicircle, but has an open eye at its apex of nearly 30
feet in diameter (Fig. 401).

[Illustration: Fig. 401.

Half elevation of Exterior. Half section of Interior.

Pantheon, Rome. (_From Fergusson._)]

The dome, as viewed externally, is buried by the wall which rises above
its springing to fully a third of its height, and above this rises a
sort of attic crowned by six gradenæ, burying nearly an equal height,
so that the dome as an external feature is far from conspicuous,
appearing as a mere flattened disc.

Internally, however, it forms a covering of the noblest character. Its
internal surface is deeply coffered by panels of four orders, in depth
dividing the circumference into twenty-eight parts, and its height, up
to about two-thirds of the distance from the springing to the crown,
into five parts, the upper portion being plain. These vast panels or
coffers, the larger range of which exceed twelve feet in diameter, are
curiously arranged as to their sectional recessing, so as to appear
perfectly symmetrical to the eye of a spectator standing beneath the
centre of the dome.

The wall, up to the springing of the dome, is beautifully decorated with
rich architecture in marbles of varied colour, and it cannot be doubted
that the cupola--the very soul of the design--was embellished in a
manner fully proportioned to the beauty of its sustaining wall; indeed,
it is thought to have been coated with gilded bronze.[62] When thus
perfect, it must have formed an interior of surpassing beauty, lighted
as it was solely through the central eye, and the light tempered by the
linen veil stretched across its rich bronze cornice, which still remains
round the opening, and retains vestiges of gilding. The Pantheon can
scarcely be called a _daring_ effort of construction, because its vast
solidity seems to defy all doubts as to its duration. It would be,
however, absurd to suppose it to have been an _early_ effort; for it is,
as I have already said, so artificial in its construction, as clearly
to prove it to be the result of long-continued practice.

The walls, which I have described as being 20 feet thick, are so only in
theory, for practically they are hollowed into innumerable cells, some
of them forming beautiful architectural recesses, and others merely
constructional hollows.

The dome itself is constructed in a manner evincing long-continued
practice; for it differs _toto cælo_ from the normal mode of
construction. It is shown differently by different authors; in fact, it
has probably never been sufficiently exposed to obtain complete
information as to its curiously complicated construction. As far,
however, as I can ascertain, it seems to be in two thicknesses. The
inner thickness consists of the framework of the coffers, which is of
brick, and the filling-in of the coffers, which is of rubble or
concrete. This would form the centering on which the outer shell was
built, which is a curious tissue of arches, each rising from the crowns
of those below it, and so disposed as to concentrate the pressure upon
points in the wall which intervene between the cells. The spaces between
these arches are filled in (so far as I can gather) with rubble or
concrete. The whole was probably covered externally with plates of
bronze or of marble.

The antique Roman dome of the so-called Temple of Minerva Medica--named
from the discovery of a statue of that deity among its ruins, but now
supposed by some to have been, like the Pantheon itself, the great hall
of some public baths--greatly resembles the Pantheon in its general
idea, but differs in this essential particular, that its surrounding
wall is not circular, but decagonal (Fig. 402).

At a later date, as we shall presently see, this peculiarity would have
been seized upon as the suggestion of another type of dome, of which I
shall have subsequently to treat. As a matter of fact, the transition
from the polygonal prism below to the nearly hemispherical dome above,
is got over by “rule of thumb,” rather than on any true system. The
vertical sides of the wall do intersect the dome in arched forms; but
neither are these forms the true sections of a plane with a sphere, nor
have they been used as architectural features, as in later times; but
have been afterwards, so far as I can judge, obliterated by the
incrustation of the dome with plaster, so as to slur over a union of
forms which the architect had fallen into accidentally without
appreciating its true results.

[Illustration: Fig. 402.--Minerva Medica. Plan and Section.]

The dome is surrounded by gradenæ much as in the Pantheon. It is not
lighted by an eye, but by ten windows, surrounding what we should call
the clerestory. Beneath these are ten arches piercing the surrounding
wall; indeed, reducing it to small anglepiers. One of these was devoted
to the entrance, the other nine to semicircular recesses, of which five
seem to have contained basins for water, and four to have opened by
means of colonnades into exedræ or surrounding buildings.[63] It may be
mentioned that this form was in after times extensively imitated. The
span of this dome is about 80 feet. Its date is not known.

[Illustration: Fig. 403.--Diocletian’s Palace at Spalatro. (_From
Fergusson._)

A. Temple of Jupiter.]

There are other domes not differing materially from those already
described, but which it would extend my lecture unduly to dwell upon.
One called the Torre dei Schiavi, in the Via Prænestina, is rather like
the Pantheon on a very small scale, though lighted by round clerestory
windows instead of a central eye. The Temples of Vesta, both at Rome and
at Tivoli, consist of circular walls surrounded externally by a
peristyle. The cell of each is supposed to have been covered by a dome,
though roofed over. A parallel case, but in a more complex form, exists
in what is called the Temple of Jupiter in Diocletian’s Palace at
Spalatro (Fig. 403). In this case the exterior of the cell, with its
peristyle, is octagonal, but the interior, with the dome, _round_. The
latter has a complicated construction of fan-shaped arches throughout,
scarcely any part being constructed of horizontal curves. Next, perhaps,
in date, yet at once displaying similarity of idea with a significant
change in the carrying out, is the tomb of St. Constantia, the daughter
of Constantine (Fig. 404).

[Illustration: Fig. 404.--Tomb of St. Constantia, Rome. (_From
Fergusson._)]

A Christian church, in its early form, has been familiarly described as
the pagan temple turned inside out. To convert the ideal temple into the
ideal church, the wall and the colonnade must change places. So
completely is this the case that some of the earlier commentators on
Vitruvius were completely puzzled between the wall of the temple and the
peristyle. They assumed that the latter _must_ be _within_ the wall, as
in their own churches, and based their remarks on this supposition.

The comparison between these almost contemporary works, the Temple of
Jupiter in Diocletian’s Palace at Spalatro, and the tomb of St.
Constantia at Rome, exactly illustrates this change. In the one the
solid wall forms the circle and carries the dome, and the colonnade is
external (See Fig. 403), in the other the colonnade forms the inner
circle and carries the dome, while the wall becomes external, an _aisle_
taking the place of the peristyle (See Fig. 404). The colonnade is
_doubled_ to support the massive clerestory whence the dome springs, and
the whole assumes the type of one form of Christian church, which
henceforth became of frequent occurrence. The dome, in this instance,
ceases to be an external feature, being covered over by a conical roof.
I may add that the peristyle is repeated in the old manner as an
additional feature beyond the wall of the aisle. The baptistery at
Nocera is similar in distribution to the tomb of St. Constantia, and may
be of similar date. It is ruder, however, and loses much beauty by the
omission of the clerestory, and the admission of light through the
haunches of the dome. Among the innumerable remains of domes of the
older type, I will only mention one more, before proceeding to the
second branch of my subject, to which it, in fact, properly belongs.
That to which I allude is the baptistery at Ravenna, erected, as it is
supposed, about the year 450 (Fig. 405).

This is a very charming building, octagonal in form, yet covered over
by a hemispherical dome. Though having no surrounding aisle, the design
of its sides seems derived from the aisle and clerestory: indeed, it has
a clerestory, though the arcade below is rather rudimentary than real.
The dome, like that last alluded to, is covered externally by a sloping
roof.

The special feature, however, in this dome is that it rests upon an
octagonal wall, or rather upon eight arches.

We shall presently see how this was effected in subsequent times, and I
will not anticipate that subject, but will content myself with
mentioning that this seems to anticipate the Byzantine domes of the
succeeding century, as had been the case in two other instances to which
I shall have to refer, and as had been _nearly_ the case in the Temple
of Minerva Medica.

[Illustration: Fig. 405.--Baptistery at Ravenna. Plan and Section.]

The domes which we have hitherto considered are exclusively and of
necessity carried by circular or other continuous walls. They are
consequently supported uniformly throughout their entire circumference,
and their use is necessarily limited to the coverings of circular or
_quasi_-circular or polygonal buildings. Had no further development been
attained, it would ever have been felt to be a sad deficiency in the
scope of architectural facilities that the noblest form of covering
should be limited to the least usual and, for most purposes, the least
convenient form of apartment. We are happily _as far as possible_ from
being left in this dilemma. A very simple application of geometrical
thought opened a way by which almost _any_ reasonable form of building
may be covered by a dome, or by a series or group of domes.

I will endeavour, as simply as I am able, to explain this important
development.

It is a property of the sphere that every possible plane section of it
is a _circle_. It follows that every vertical section of a hemispherical
or segmental dome assumes the form of a semicircular or segmental arch.
If, therefore, a square be inscribed in the base of a dome, and walls be
built on that square, and continued up till they meet the dome, they
will intersect with it in four semicircles (Fig. 406). If, instead of
_walls_, you build _arches_ on the sides of that square, these arches
will coincide with the curve of the dome where they meet it, and, if
strong enough, will carry the portion of the dome remaining between
them. If, again, instead of arches, you suppose the dome intersected on
the lines of the inscribed square by _vaults_ at right angles to those
sides, the result will be the same.

[Illustration: Fig. 406.]

In the first case we have a dome, or a portion of one, covering a square
apartment; in the second we have the same covering standing on arches
open towards the exterior; in the third, we have a dome covering the
intersection of two barrel-vaults, just as is more usually done by
groining.

The process, however, is not limited to a _square_; it is equally
applicable to the octagon or any other polygon--indeed, to any figure
which can be inscribed in a circle.

The following diagrams (Figs. 407, 408, and 409) will tend better to
explain this.

Nor is it necessary that the inscribed figure should be _complete_, for
remnants of the circle may equally well be left between the arches or
walls.

[Illustration: Fig. 407.]

[Illustration: Fig. 408.]

Thus, a circular space may be intersected by four vaults of less width
than the sides of a square (Fig. 410), leaving portions of the circular
walls remaining between them.

The dome, again, may as well be _segmental_ in section as
_semicircular_, in which case the arches supporting it will also be
segmental (Fig. 411). Again, the figure inscribed need not be
_equilateral_, so that _oblong_ compartments, such as those customary in
the nave of a church, may be domically vaulted.

In all the cases which I have enumerated, I have supposed the result to
be literally a _portion of the original dome_. As it happens, however,
we have but few ancient examples of so strict an adherence to principle;
though in modern works they are more frequent. The purest specimen I
know (if I judge rightly from drawings) is the dome of the little church
of SS. Nasario and Celso, at Ravenna, the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia,
and of her two husbands, the Emperors Honorius and Valentinian II. This
is a dome such as I described as standing between four walls, which
intersect it in the form of arches.

[Illustration: Fig. 409.]

[Illustration: Fig. 410.]

[Illustration: Fig. 411.]

The next step beyond this was a very important one as to beauty of
effect. I refer to the practice of drawing the circle by means of a
moulding on the surface of the dome, touching the crowns of the arches.
This is not only ornamental, but it has the effect of emphasising the
first completed course of stones, and perhaps even of strengthening it,
and it has the further effect of defining the spherical triangles
between the arches which, when thus gifted with a separate existence,
receive the name of “_pendentives_,” whence this entire class of domes
are called “_pendentive_ domes.” The earliest specimen of this is
probably the little tomb in the Via Nomentana near Rome (Fig. 412),
which, though probably of earlier date than the church of SS. Nasario
and Celso, carries out the pendentive principle to its full development,
just as we see it treated at a later period in the double gate (Fig.
413) and the golden gate of the Temple Area at Jerusalem, most probably
erected under Justinian. All these domes are segmental in section.

[Illustration: Fig. 412. Tomb in the Via Nomentana, Rome.]

[Illustration: Fig. 413.--Double Gate, Temple Area at Jerusalem.]

The pure form, however, of a pendentive dome--that is to say, the form
in which the pendentives and the upper portion are really veritable
parts of one and the same original dome, in the plan or base of which
the rectilinear figure is inscribed--was not long adhered to. It was
soon felt that the disc enclosed by the circular moulding looked _flat_
and _ineffective_; and the idea early suggested itself of converting the
circular moulding into a massive cornice, raising upon it a new dome of
such proportions as should approve themselves to the eye, and allowing
nought but the pendentives to remain of the original dome (Figs. 414,
415).

[Illustration: Fig. 414.]

[Illustration: Fig. 415.]

No bolder idea was ever introduced in constructive architecture; for now
the dome, instead of being, as at the Pantheon, supported firmly by a
solid wall throughout _every_ portion of its circumference, finds its
conditions _absolutely reversed_; for in _no_ portion of its
circumference has it now a solid support, but all floats upon vacuity,
suggesting the poetical similitude to Procopius that the Dome of St.
Sophia appeared as if suspended by a chain from heaven.

Pendentive domes, in neither of their typical forms, seem to have been
frequently or customarily made use of in the more genuine Classic ages,
though in modern times they have both been very wisely adopted into the
revived Classic styles. They were, in fact, the special characteristic
and the great glory of the Byzantine style.

Mr. Freeman, on this subject, remarks:--“The offspring of the arch is
the vault, of the vault the cupola; and this majestic ornament is the
very life and soul of Byzantine architecture, to which every other
feature is subordinate. Its use had hitherto been mainly confined to
circular buildings. To make it the central point of a Christian temple
was a grand and bold idea, and one which involved a complete revolution
in the existing principles of architecture.... And not only did the
grand cupola crown the whole pile, but the smaller portions are often
covered with smaller domes and semi-domes.... The eye, habituated to the
long naves ... of our own great churches, is totally bewildered with so
huge a pile, with apses and semi-domes ‘sprouting out,’ to use the
expression of Mr. Hope, in every direction, and all circling round the
vast central cupola, like tributary rulers encircling an imperial
throne.”

It is thought by some that the Byzantines borrowed the pendentive dome
from Persia, but this seems insusceptible of proof; indeed, it exists of
earlier age in Italy. It is more certain that having once discovered its
wonderful utility, it was communicated by them to every region to which
their influence extended, and that, having been learned from them by the
Mahometans, it became the conspicuous feature of the architecture which
extended continuously from the Bay of Bengal to the Atlantic.

The next development I will mention is the raising of the dome proper
upon a drum or circular wall, elevated upon the pendentives or corbels,
so as to convert it into a species of tower. This seems to have been the
first step by which, in later times, the dome came to be made a
conspicuous external feature, though rather at the sacrifice of internal
beauty (Figs. 416, 417).

[Illustration: Fig. 416.]

[Illustration: Fig. 417.]

It is, in fact, the weakest point in the dome, æsthetically considered,
that the same dome cannot be made artistically perfect both within and
without. If its height be limited to what looks thoroughly well from
within, it is so low in its external aspect as to have little artistic
value; while, if raised so high as to be an important external feature,
it is only seen by a painful effort from within. This is manifest even
in the rotunda, where the dome rises from a circular wall, as in the
Pantheon and the Temple of Minerva Medica; but it becomes much more so
in a pendentive dome, where the angles are externally encumbered with
large masses of masonry. In the earlier Byzantine buildings we
accordingly find the dome to have been viewed almost solely as an
internal feature, and its exterior very much neglected, and in the case
of St. Sophia itself no one would be prepared by its low, heavy,
external aspect for the unrivalled glories of its interior. Many of the
old architects, in fact, gave up the external form altogether, covering
over the dome, as at Parma, etc., by an ordinary sloping roof.

The change I have last chronicled,--the interposition of a circular wall
between the pendentives and the dome,--though by no means in all cases
leading to the result I am referring to, was unquestionably the origin
of the treatment of the dome as an important external feature. It was,
in fact, the elevation of the rotunda upon the top of the pendentives.
Unhappily, however, it had at once the effect of lifting up the dome
above the level favourable to its internal effect, while, if erected on
four arches only, the weight became so serious as usually to limit its
use to domes of very moderate sizes.

[Illustration: Fig. 418.]

[Illustration: Fig. 419.]

A large number of domes thus raised high above their pendentives or
corbellings are really of a class whose claims to the name of dome are
somewhat ambiguous. I refer to those whose horizontal section is not
circular, but polygonal (Figs. 418, 419). Strictly speaking, this is a
variety of groined vault; it is generated by the intersection of several
barrel-vaults, springing from the horizontal tops of the surrounding
walls. Now, my definition of a dome was a vault generated by the
revolution of an arch on its vertical axis. If this were an exhaustive
definition, it would follow that the vaults under consideration are no
domes at all; yet they look so much like them, and as the number of the
sides of the polygon increases, actually approach so closely to the
genuine dome, that it would be affectation to deny them the name. They
may form the covering of any rectilinear figure at all approaching to
regularity of form; as the triangle, the square, the canted square,
polygons, either regular or elongated, oblongs or parallelograms of any
kind; but the usual form is the octagon or other polygon, and for our
general purpose it may be best to limit them to figures capable of being
inscribed in a circle or an ellipse.

I have introduced this variety of dome as occurring in those which are
raised high above their pendentives or corbels. They occur, however, in
numerous positions. The greatest I know of is that of the Cathedral at
Florence, of which I shall have to speak more in detail in my next
lecture.

[Illustration: Fig. 420. Plan, SS. Sergius and Bacchus. (_From
Fergusson._)]

[Illustration: Fig. 421. Section, SS. Sergius and Bacchus,
Constantinople. (_From Fergusson._)]

But to return to the Pendentive Dome. The Pendentive Dome, though
occasionally used at an earlier period, established itself as the
leading feature of a style about the time of the Emperor Justinian, and
its central seat was Constantinople. The earliest, or _about_ the
earliest, church now remaining in that city, seems to be that of SS.
Sergius and Bacchus (Figs. 420, 421). Its dome is supported by an
octagon. It appears itself to be conchoidal in its horizontal section,
and to be supported on sixteen small pendentives. It bears considerable
resemblance to the Temple of Minerva Medica, but is really less
developed than the baptistery at Ravenna, which dates full half a
century earlier.

Contemporary with this was the Church of the Apostles, also erected by
Justinian, but now destroyed. It showed, however, according to the
description of it by Procopius, an immense advance upon that last named;
for, while in one the dome was carried by an octagonal wall, thus
showing no practical advance upon the antique form of dome, in the
latter a vast cruciform building was covered by five domes, which is
just the advantage which the pendentive system affords; for, when the
base of a dome is cut into a square by four arches, those arches may aid
in the support of other domes beyond, and thus any space may be covered
over by a series or a group of domes. This last church, then, was the
true type of advanced domical structure.

The great glory, however, of this age, and of domical structure of this
class (for it has never again been equalled), is the Church of St.
Sophia, or of Sacred Wisdom, erected by the same Emperor as the
Metropolitan or Patriarchal Cathedral of the Eastern Church. The plan of
this church differs in ideal, and yet more in fact, from the
contemporary church last referred to.

The ideal of each is a cross with a central dome. The difference is that
in the Church of the Apostles the limbs of the cross were each covered
by a complete dome of equal dimensions with the central one (Fig. 422),
while those of St. Sophia are covered each by a semi-dome only of equal
diameter with the arches carrying the central dome (Fig. 423); so that
if we consider the latter to spring from the top of its pendentives,
which it in effect does, its springing is on a level with the crown of
the surrounding semi-domes.

[Illustration: Fig. 422. Church of the Apostles.]

[Illustration: Fig. 423. St. Sophia.]

In reality, however, this idea is not carried out to completion, as only
two of the semi-domes have been erected, the other two arches of the
central dome being filled in with an arcade in many storeys. This
incompleteness, however, is greatly more than compensated--firstly, by
the vastness of the scale--the central dome, if measured on the
diagonal, being 150 feet in diameter--and, secondly, by other
semi-domical projections branching out from the walls which support the
great semi-domes, three from each, excepting that on the western side,
one is devoted to the entrance, and is not domed. Even these secondary
projections are mostly arcaded, so as to allow the eye to pass onward
into a yet inner chamber (Fig. 424). So that, simple as is the primary
ideal, the actual effect is one of great intricacy and of continuous
gradation of parts, from the arcades last alluded to, up to the
stupendous dome which hangs with little apparent support, like a vast
bubble, over the centre, or, as Procopius, who witnessed its erection,
described it, “as if suspended by a chain from heaven.”

[Illustration: Fig. 424.--Plan, St. Sophia, Constantinople. (_From
Fergusson._)]

The dome is lighted by forty small windows, which pierce it immediately
above the cornice which crowns its pendentives, and which, by
subdividing its lower part into narrow piers, increases the feeling of
its being supported by its own buoyancy.

The interior thus generated, covered almost wholly by domes, or portions
of them, each rising in succession higher and higher towards this
floating hemisphere in the centre, and so arranged that one shall open
out the view towards the others, and that nearly the entire system of
vaulting may be viewed at a single glance, appears to me to be, in some
respects, the noblest which has ever been designed, as it was certainly
the most daring which, up to that time at least, if not absolutely, had
ever been constructed.

Its beauties are of a contrary kind to those of that noblest interior of
antiquity--the Great Hall of Karnac--or to those of later ages--the
Gothic cathedrals. Both of these gain beauty of effect and an increase
of apparent extent through the endless intricacies of their perspective,
and the changes of aspect at every step arising from the multitude of
their columns, and from no possible view showing the whole interior at
once. This, on the contrary, trusts to the very reverse of all this--the
absence of interruptions and the studious distribution of parts, so that
no one conceals another, but that the entire building shall be grasped
at once by the eye (Fig. 425).

I have not seen St. Sophia’s, though I long to do so, if only to view a
form of artistic treatment so different from what I delight in in our
own cathedrals. The internal effect does not, however, trust exclusively
to this panoptical theory. The contrary theory was too well known from
the Christian basilicæ to be lost sight of in this, the greatest of
Christian

[Illustration: Fig. 425.--Longitudinal Section, St. Sophia,
Constantinople. (_From Fergusson._)]

temples. It was, in point of fact, _added_ to the other by means of
arcades, both in the sides of the nave and in its apsidal projections,
opening out mysterious perspectives into the inner recesses of the
temple. This union of the more palpable with the more mysterious, of the
vast unbroken expanse with the intricately broken perspective, must, as
it appears to me, and as I judge from representations, produce an
impression more astounding than that of almost any other building; but,
when we consider the whole as clothed with the richest beauties of
surface; its piers encrusted with inlaid marbles of every hue, its
arcades of marble gorgeously carved, its domes and vaultings resplendent
with gold mosaic interspersed with solemn figures, and its
wide-spreading floors, rich with marble tesselation, over which the
buoyant dome floats, self-supported, and seems to sail over you as you
move--I cannot conceive of anything more astonishing, more solemn, and
more magnificent. Well might its Imperial founder exclaim, when, with
pardonable exultation, he viewed the result of his costly
aspirations--“Glory be to God, who hath thought me worthy to accomplish
so great a work; _I have vanquished thee, O Solomon_!”

I have dwelt longer on my description of this wonderful building because
it is _facile princeps_ among structures on the pendentive domical
principle, just as the Pantheon had been among those with the simple
dome; and as, in after ages, was St. Peter’s among those whose domes
soared upwards as lofty towers.

I must here close my lecture, leaving the continuation of my
descriptive sketch of the history of the Cupola, and such remarks as I
may have to offer on its uses, its practical application, and its future
development, to be followed up in my next.




LECTURE XVII.

The Dome (_Continued_).

     St. Irene, Constantinople--Church of San Vitale, the type, three
     centuries later, of Charlemagne’s Church at Aix-la-Chapelle--Two
     influences at work leading to the introduction and adoption of the
     dome into Italy--From thence into the south-west of
     France--Baptisteries at Florence and Parma--Cathedral at
     Sienna--St. Mark’s, Venice--Santa Fosca near Venice--Domes having
     _pointed_ arches for their support--St. Front and La Cité,
     Perigueux--Angoulême--Fontevrault--Auvergne--Ainay near
     Lyons--Pendentives in many French churches give place to
     corbels--The _modern_ type of dome--Cathedral at Florence--St.
     Peter’s, Rome, and St. Paul’s, London.


In my last lecture, after bringing down our consideration of domical
construction to the period of the perfecting by the Byzantine architects
of the system of what are known as “Pendentive Domes,” I was proceeding
to describe a few of its most marked productions, but was stopped short
when I had given a rapid sketch of the most wonderful of its
creations--the Church of St. Sophia at Constantinople.

I will now proceed with my subject. After the Church of the Holy Wisdom,
all subsequent domed churches of the Byzantine class seemed to shrink
from a hopeless competition, and to content themselves with moderate
dimensions.

Among those remaining at Constantinople, that of St. Irene (Fig. 426)
perhaps comes next in date. Its central dome, like that of St. Sophia
(Fig. 427), is flanked by arcaded aisles, which, however, do not extend
to the vaulting, but simply carry galleries. These wings, therefore, as
well as the eastward extension, are covered by barrel vaults, the latter
being terminated by a semi-domical apse--while westward is a second
dome, like the central one in plan, excepting that, being less in
dimension east and west, its base is an ellipse instead of a circle. The
actual domes, however, differ much more widely; for, while the western
one is a flat disc continuing the surface of its pendentives, the
central dome is raised above them on a high drum pierced like a
clerestory with many windows.

[Illustration: Fig. 426.--St. Irene.]

[Illustration: Fig. 427.--St. Sophia.]

The Church of the Holy Theotokos, or of the Mother of God, is of much
later date. The church proper has but a single dome of any importance,
though there are several others over the narthex (Fig. 428). This dome
covers the intersection of two barrel-vaults, is supported simply on
four columns, and rises high above its pendentives on a drum pierced by
windows (Fig. 429). The architecture of this church is very elegant,
differing in date, it is probable, but little from that at St. Mark’s at
Venice. Others do not differ sufficiently from these types to make it
worth while here to describe them. It may, however, be mentioned that in
the later Greek churches the domes, or some of them, rose often so high
as to become rather elegant towers, arcaded externally. This is the case
with several of the churches at Athens.

[Illustration: Fig. 428.--Plan, Church of the Holy Theotokos.]

[Illustration: Fig. 429.--Section, Church of the Holy Theotokos.]

[Illustration: Fig. 430.--Plan and Section, St. Nicodemus, Athens.]

Among the churches of that city we find one type of great elegance, the
Church of St. Nicodemus (Fig. 430), in which the dome occupies the width
of what we should call the nave and its aisles; each side of the square
over which it stands being divided into three unequal arches, over which
it rises on a lofty drum, and is carried on eight pendentives. This
forms a most elegant interior, susceptible of many varieties; and, from
the spacious central space which it affords, seems the most valuable
type on which to found a domed design for a modern church.

It would, however, be endless to enumerate the varied forms of domed
churches in the East, though, with all their varieties, they may usually
be reduced to a few elementary types. If you desire to study them, I
would recommend to you Salzenberg’s _Old Christian Architecture at
Constantinople_, Couchaud’s _Byzantine Churches in Greece_, and Texier
and Pullan’s _Byzantine Architecture_.

It is not, however, in the East alone, that the Byzantine dome is to be
found, even in its earliest days--those

[Illustration: Fig 431.--Plan, St. Vitale, Ravenna. (_From Fergusson._)]

[Illustration: Fig. 432.--Section, St. Vitale, Ravenna. (_From
Fergusson._)]

of Justinian himself. It established itself equally at Ravenna; indeed,
as we have seen in the baptistery there, as well as in the tomb of Galla
Placidia, it, in an early form, preceded those at Constantinople itself.
Its great effort, however, there, was the Church of San Vitale, erected
by Justinian and Theodora (Fig. 431). This church was evidently imitated
more or less from the Temple of Minerva Medica, though whether directly
or through that of SS. Sergius and Bacchus at Constantinople can hardly
be judged. It is a grand octagon, with a spacious surrounding aisle of
double height (Fig. 432). Seven of its sides have the same circular
niches projecting from them that we find in the temple (as well as in
the Church of SS. Sergius and Bacchus), only they are arcaded and
carried out with purely Byzantine details. The aisles are of two
storeys, united behind a lofty arcade. This is surmounted by a
clerestory, encroaching to a certain degree upon the dome. This,
however, is not pendentive. It is covered externally by a roof. It has
undergone much modernisation, but retains its general form and a good
deal of its ancient decorations, which show it to have been treated much
as St. Sophia, with which it was contemporary. The church is the more
interesting from having been the type followed three centuries later by
Charlemagne in his famous church at Aix-la-Chapelle (Fig. 433).

The manner in which the dome was introduced and adopted in Italy during
these ages, was so diverse in its results as to cause it to be very
perplexing to chronicle it in any clear consecutive order. There were,
in fact, two distinct influences, both occasionally leading to its
adoption.

[Illustration: Fig. 433. Plan and Section,--Church at Aix-la-Chapelle.]

At Rome, and in places under Roman influence, such examples as the
Pantheon could not fail to have their effect on the subsequent
architecture, and we accordingly find there numerous scions of this
primeval family, while, as we have just seen, the purely Byzantine form
was simultaneously introduced by way of Ravenna, and later on was
planted at Venice.

Through this twofold influence the dome became very frequent throughout
Italy. It was carried, as we have seen, by Charles the Great, from
Ravenna to Aix-la-Chapelle, and, later on, was carried forward from
Lombardy, under the first three Othos, across the Alps, down the valley
of the Rhine, and far into the interior of Germany. Only a few years
later it was conveyed from Venice into the interior of the south-west of
France, whence it spread throughout an extensive district stretching
eastward into Auvergne, and even as far as Lyons, and northward to the
banks of the Loire, where, to this day, the effigies of our early
Plantagenet kings lie beneath a series of pendentive domes almost as
perfect as if at Constantinople.

I will not dwell at much length on the domes which were derived from
purely Roman traditions, because they, for the most part, suggest no new
type or development.

[Illustration: Fig. 434.--Plan, Baptistery at Florence.]

The most magnificent, probably, is that of the Baptistery at Florence, a
noble work of early, though unknown, date. It is clearly founded in a
great degree upon the Pantheon, though of octagonal plan, and with a
dome of the same form (Fig. 434). Its sides are in two storeys--the
first with deeply-recessed colonnades on each side--the upper stage a
clerestory. One face, however, is occupied by the arch of the sanctuary
(Fig. 435).

The dome had formerly an eye, like the Pantheon, but has now a lantern
turret. It is encrusted with beautiful mosaic work, with an infinity of
figures, the side over the sanctuary having a colossal figure of our
Lord in Majesty in a vesica. The architecture is of marble, and the
pavement is tesselated work. The whole internal effect is beautiful and
impressive in the extreme.

[Illustration: Fig. 435.--Section, Baptistery at Florence.]

A parallel work is the Baptistery at Parma, a work of the twelfth
century. It is polygonal in plan, and greatly inferior to that of
Florence (Figs. 436, 437). The church of San Tomaso in Limine, near
Bejamo, is simply like an ordinary Templars’ church, with a
hemispherical dome over its clerestory, and a turret rising from its
apex. San Stephano, at Bologna, is in some degree on the same type.

The greater part of the Italian domes of these periods and of this
class, simply cover the crossing or the central tower of a cruciform
church, and exhibit no important development.

The most original, perhaps, is the dome of the cathedral at Sienna,
which stands upon six piers, forming a hexagon, each side of which is
equal in width to the nave and choir (Fig. 438). In the next stage, the
angles are corbelled-out, so as to form in the upper storey a dodecagon,
which form is followed out in the dome.

[Illustration: Fig. 437.--Section, Baptistery at Parma.]

[Illustration: Fig. 436.--Plan of Baptistery at Parma.]

The merit of this plan is that it unites itself, with little
obstructiveness, with the church on all sides of it, and opens out in
its centre a space of double the width of the nave. It is also pleasing
and elegant in its effect. But it is time that we returned to the
Byzantine type, which you will remember that we left at Ravenna to
follow out this digression.

We now adjourn from Ravenna to Venice.

The mercantile and perhaps political connections of the old Venetians
were mainly _Oriental_. This probably accounts for their architecture,
up to the twelfth century being _Byzantine_.

[Illustration: Fig. 438.--Plan, Cathedral at Sienna. (_From
Fergusson._)]

The Church of St. Mark, or the Chapel of the Doge’s Palace, was founded
in the ninth century, in honour and for the reception of the body of St.
Mark, which had been procured from Alexandria, when the church in which
it had been long deposited was destroyed by the Moslems. This church,
however, perished in a popular tumult, late in the tenth century,
whereupon the Venetians set about its reconstruction with a
determination to render it one of the finest and most sumptuous in
existence (Fig. 439). All the East, so far as accessible to their ships,
was laid under contribution for columns and other architectural
embellishments. The design is often spoken of as founded on that of St.
Sophia. This was not the case. The Church of the Apostles at
Constantinople would rather seem to have furnished its model.[64] It
consists of a group of five square spaces, covered each by its
pendentive dome. Its peculiarity lies in the breadth of the strips of
wagon-vault which support and separate these domes, which is so great
that the vast piers which sustain them are pierced in two storeys, and
divide each other into four piers, with a vaulted space between them.
Each dome is consequently the centre of a cruciform space, the wings of
which have wagon-vaults. The only exception is the east end, where an
apse is substituted for this space, and out of this apse spring three
minor ones, as at St. Sophia. Each dome is about hemispherical above its
pendentives, and is pierced with windows, as at St. Sophia.

[Illustration: Fig. 439.--Plan, St. Mark’s, Venice.]

The domes are now, and have been for many ages, covered over by lofty
domical towers of timber, each surmounted by a sort of turret on its
apex (Fig. 440). The wings which flanked each domed space, bounded as
they were by the perforated piers, were so suggestive of side aisles
that the builders, familiar, no doubt, with aisled churches, added
arcades from pier to pier, both in the nave and transepts. These,
however, are merely decorative, supporting no galleries, as is frequent
in the East, and only serving as narrow communications, equivalent to
triforium passages, between the upper chambers in the great piers.

[Illustration: Fig. 440.--Cross Section, St. Mark’s, Venice.]

The entire church is internally encrusted with richly-coloured marbles
and gold mosaic, with figures, just as at St. Sophia’s;[65] and the
floor is of marble and porphyry tesselation, varying in scale from the
most vast slabs to the finest mosaic work.

The interior was, no doubt, a joint imitation of St. Sophia’s and the
Apostles’ Church, rivalling the former in its sumptuous decoration, and
imitating the latter in its plan.

To those who have not visited the East, this interior gives a very
faithful idea of the splendour of a Byzantine church, and I must say
that I have myself seen nothing more impressive (Fig. 441).

I will only further (before proceeding to another branch of my subject)
notice one other church--the little church of Santa Fosca (Fig. 442), on
the island of Torcello, close to Venice. This church is not domed, or
has only a wooden dome, but was clearly planned for a proper domical
covering. Its plan is like that of St. Nicodemus, at Athens,[66] already
alluded to, and is perhaps one of the most beautiful in existence, and
one best adapted of all domical arrangements to modern use. Before I
proceed farther I must call your attention to a fresh step in advance.

[Illustration: Fig. 441.--Longitudinal Section, St. Mark’s, Venice.
(_From Fergusson._)]

The next step in the development of domes is the adoption of _pointed_
arches for their support, often accompanied by an increase in the height
of their own section beyond that of a semicircle.

The fact that the pendentive dome is, as it were, suspended in mid-air,
so that a perpendicular line dropped from any part of its circumference
passes through empty space, renders it imperative that the arches which
sustain it in this airy position should be extremely strong, and should
have as little outward thrust as possible; and it is equally desirable
that the courses of stone forming the pendentives should not form very
acute angles with the haunches of these arches. These considerations
seem to have led the Mahometan architects soon to substitute _pointed_
arches for _round_ as the supports of their domes; a step in which they
were followed at a later period by the greater part of those Western
European architects who adopted the pendentive dome. There can be no
doubt that this was a very advantageous change. Mr. Fergusson says: “A
little reflection ... will show how difficult it is to adapt the curves
of a pendentive dome to a circular arch, and how weak the arrangement is
when done.... With a pointed arch, however, even when the pendentives
follow its lines, there is some thickness in every part, and no curve
need slope forward at a greater angle than 45 degrees.”

[Illustration: Fig. 442.--Plan, Santa Fosca, Torcello.]

On the other hand, the change was attended with the loss of geometrical
accuracy. Hitherto we have dealt with none but perfectly correct
geometrical figures; but the moment the pointed arch is introduced, the
pendentives lose this exactitude, and have to be adapted by what is
vulgarly called “rule of thumb” to conditions not precisely suited to
their forms. A pendentive between pointed arches has, it is true, a
geometrical form of its own, but this is so awkward in its sections that
it has only to be seen to be rejected; for, instead of its central
section being a regular arched curve, suited to a domical surface, it is
a curve of _double flexure_, its lower part concave (as seen from
within), and its upper part convex--in short, _an ogee_. This being
inadmissible, the curve has to be accommodated the best way we can, so
as to avoid this weak and unpleasing form. We have, in fact, to
determine, according to the best of our judgment, what shall be the
vertical section of the pendentive, and adopt such horizontal curves for
the courses of masonry as will make it reach the extrados of the
supporting arches in the easiest manner we are able. This was really
done so successfully by the French architects, whose works I shall
shortly have to describe, that, for myself, I must say I never found out
the difficulty from seeing them, and was unaware of it till I worked out
the profiles geometrically.

After all, however, it is only parallel to what we have to do in filling
in the spaces between the ribs of Gothic vaulting.

The pointed arch, though beautiful and practically excellent, is no
regular geometrical figure, but the union of portions of two; its use,
consequently, induces irregularities which would be at once avoided by
the substitution of an ellipse. But then our geometrical accuracy would
be purchased by the sacrifice of beauty.

All the sections of a sphere being circles, the supporting arches of a
true pendentive hemispherical dome are semicircular arches, and in the
same manner those of an elliptical spheroidal dome would be
semi-ellipses; but there is no regular solid figure, more than one of
whose sections are pointed arches, so it is natural that when they are
used some part should have to be accommodated to fit them.

It may, however, be as well at this point to mention that pendentives,
after all, had become mere rudiments of a form which had lost its
original intent. Ever since the dome ceased to have the same curvature
with its pendentives, and to be a continuation of their surface, the
latter had become a mere form of _corbel_, for which any other variety
might at convenience be substituted. This fact was amply acknowledged in
every region where the dome was made use of; so that from the pillars of
Hercules to the Bay of Bengal, and among those who occasionally adopted
and developed upon Byzantine ideas in Western Europe, we find all forms
of corbelling used in addition to the typical pendentive. I shall
presently have to show you some of these varieties, and will only now
remark that, though they are perfectly legitimate means of support, the
pendentive has still the advantage of them in its simplicity and in its
superior adaptation to coloured decoration.

About the beginning of the eleventh century, the Byzantine style, in all
its integrity (excepting only in its richer decorations), was conveyed
into Aquitaine, as it is supposed, by Venetian merchants, who at that
time had extensive commercial establishments in that part of France.

The earliest work carried out under this semi-Byzantine influence was,
so far as we know, the church of St. Front, at Perigueux (Fig. 443), a
building obviously copied from St. Mark’s, at Venice.[67] The two
churches are, in fact, nearly identical in their plans and sections, the
one being an almost unadorned copy of the other, showing us what St.
Mark’s would be if stripped of its marble encrustations and its mosaics.

[Illustration: Fig. 443.--Plan, St. Front, Perigueux.]

There is, however, _one_ important difference, and one which bears
directly upon the foregoing observations:--The domes at St. Front, as
well as the great arches which support them, are _pointed_ instead of
_round_, though all the minor arches retain the older form (Figs. 444,
445). This agrees with what I have stated in my earlier lectures, that
the pointed arch was introduced, not so much as a matter of _taste_ as
of _construction_. Thus, in the buildings in which it first appears, we
usually find it in the arches carrying towers, in the wider vaulting,
and in other positions where great weight had to be sustained, before it
made its appearance in minor features.

[Illustration: Fig. 444.--Section, St. Front, Perigueux.]

[Illustration: Fig. 445.--St. Front, Perigueux.]

Here, at St. Front, we have it appearing at a date a century and a half
earlier than in our own country, and used solely in the parts where the
constructive necessities were the most urgent.

The style, once transplanted into this region, widely separated though
it was from all its previous seats, seems to have seized powerfully upon
the public mind, and to have become, within a century, the nucleus of a
new form of architecture, of very great beauty and interest, uniting the
domical construction of the East with the Romanesque and the Early
Pointed architecture of the West.

The entire district, some 200 miles in extent, adopted the dome as its
acknowledged form of vaulting, nearly always supported it by the pointed
arch, and also employed it as the section of the cupola itself.

At Souillac we find a nave, apparently nearly as early as St. Front,
covered by a series of pointed domes supported by massive transverse
pointed arches, and terminated by a semi-domical apse, all carried out
with scarcely an attempt at architectural detail.

At the church of St. Stephen, at Perigueux, commonly called La Cité, we
have an imperfect early nave of simple character, with one of its domes
remaining, but to the east of it stands a later compartment, in which
the same construction is carried out with very fine architecture,
agreeing in character with our own Transitional style (Fig. 446).

[Illustration: Fig. 446.--La Cité, Perigueux.]

This brings us to the new development, for the _style_ now ceases to be
Byzantine. It is very noble Gothic, united with domical construction.

The sketches of this and St. Front serve to show the greatness of the
change,--the one a rude transcript of St. Mark’s without its
decorations,--the other a noble interior of the Transitional style, but
with a pendentive dome; and it will be seen that this addition in no
degree clashes with the style into which it is adopted.

At Angoulême we find this development carried out fully (Fig. 447). We
have a complete cruciform church, precisely in the style of the work
last named, the bays of the nave almost exactly like it, but the
crossing rising to a far greater height, with a sort of drum forming a
clerestory over the arches, and imperfect pendentives bearing the dome
aloft (Fig. 448).

[Illustration: Fig. 447.--Plan, Angoulême.]

[Illustration: Fig. 448.--Angoulême.]

I may mention that this dome is not circular in plan, but that the
middle of each side is flattened.

A very parallel arrangement exists in a church far more to the north,
on the banks of the Loire, and one in which we, as Englishmen, are
specially interested, as being the burial-place of our earlier
Plantagenets. I refer to the Abbey Church of Fontevrault (Fig. 449).

[Illustration: Fig. 449.--Plan, Fontevrault.]

This church has four domical bays to the nave almost identical with
those at Angoulême. The church is now a prison, and in some obscure
portion lie the beautiful effigies of King Henry II. of England and of
Eleanor of Guienne, his queen; of Richard Cœur de Lion; and of Isabel of
Angoulême, the queen of King John, and mother to the rebuilder of
Westminster Abbey.

There are in this district of France fully forty domed churches, which I
need not particularise, my main object being to show how perfectly
compatible is the cupola with Gothic architecture.

The influence, however, of the dome extended, in France, far beyond the
district in question; for we find it spreading eastward into Auvergne,
and beyond that again to Lyons.

[Illustration: Fig. 450. Nôtre-Dame du Pont, Clermont.]

In Auvergne it usually covers the intersection of cross churches beneath
the tower; at Le Puy it is used in a very unusual form to cover, not
only this central space, but the bays of the vaulting.

The nave is divided into oblong bays by transverse arches, and the
intervals are reduced to elongated octagons by corbels, doing duty for
pendentives, and these octagons are domed over on the angular system.
The same form of covering exists at Ainay, near Lyons.[68]

I may mention that the pendentives in many of these French churches give
place to corbels of varied design, as at Monthron, near Angoulême, Nôtre
Dame des Dons at Avignon, and very many others. The last named dome
rises into a beautiful tower, and I may mention that small lantern
turrets are common upon the Aquitanian domes.

I will not dwell upon the German domes, because they do not illustrate
any special development. They seem to have been the offspring of those
Italian domes which followed Roman traditions. They mostly cover
intersections of cross churches beneath central towers. Those at
Aix-la-Chapelle and Nimègue are of the ordinary type of domes covering
octagonal buildings. That at Worms covers a square, but is by corbels
brought out to an octagon, and then domed in that form.

In our own country I know of no nearer Mediæval approach to the cupola
than the semi-dome covering the apse of the chapel in the Tower of
London.[69]

The last form of dome which I will allude to is what may be called the
_modern_ type. It does not differ in essentials from what may be found
among those of earlier periods, but is distinguished from them by
several of the elements which it possesses in common with some of these,
being developed on a larger scale and becoming more pronounced and more
essentially characteristic.

This type of dome is:--1. Raised high in the manner of a tower; 2. The
dome becomes an important external feature; 3. It is crowned by a
smaller tower rising out of the dome; 4. It usually assumes internally
the form of a lantern, with a range of windows beneath the dome; 5. In
some instances the external and internal domes are independent
structures, the former acting as a roof to the latter, with, perhaps, an
intermediate structure to carry the culminating tower on its apex. Now,
_every one_ of these features is to be found in earlier domes.

The raising of a dome upon a drum or tower is common both in the East
and West. In many instances, and especially in Mahometan buildings, the
dome becomes an important external feature. The crowning of the dome by
a small tower or lantern on its apex is frequent among the early domes
of Northern Italy, and is seen on the five domes of St. Front at
Perigueux, and, in a different form, on its prototype at Venice. The
internal range of windows beneath the dome is found both in the true
Byzantine districts, in Italy, in France, and in Germany; and finally,
the independence of the external and the internal domes,--the former
becoming the roof to the latter, with even the intermediate structure to
support the culminating turret or lantern,--is found in its full
integrity in St. Mark’s, at Venice, where its early date is proved by
its being represented in the most ancient of the external mosaics.

Why, then, if all its essential characteristics are to be found in
ancient examples, do we call this form of dome “_modern_”? I would reply
that, though its elementary ideas were old, their systematic
combination, and the vast scale on which they were worked out, is due to
the architects of the Renaissance. It is, in my opinion, their greatest
achievement, being the union of the Classic with the Byzantine and the
Mediæval ideals, and the working them into a feature which no previous
style had produced in so complete a manner or on so noble a scale. In
saying this, however, I do not intend to praise this as being as an
internal feature superior to the true Byzantine dome; on the contrary, I
think it a less reasonable and an even less beautiful covering, because
it is raised to so vast an elevation as not to be visible at any natural
angle of vision, nor to become a part of the general internal view of
the building. It must, however, be confessed that, _when seen_, it is of
wonderful and almost magical aspect; while externally it produces a
nobler form of tower than is to be found in any previous development. I
do not think it in any degree belongs essentially to the Renaissance,
though it chanced to be developed under its influence. On the contrary,
the first complete type of this form of dome (though happening not to be
pendentive) was designed as the completion of a Gothic structure, and
its only serious fault is that it was not carried out with more
perfectly Gothic detail. I refer of course to that of the Cathedral at
Florence (Fig. 451).

[Illustration: Fig. 451.--Cathedral at Florence.]

The Cathedral at Florence had been carried out during the fourteenth
century--_all but its cupola_--from the design of Arnolpho and his
successors. A dome equal in space to that now existing was prepared for,
but various causes delayed for a century its actual erection, so that,
when it was at length undertaken, the prevailing style had changed. It
is probable that Arnolpho intended to have sprung his dome at a far
lower level, and to have made it like that of the adjoining baptistery;
perhaps not exhibiting externally its domical form. Brunelleschi raised
the drum to a considerable height, exhibited his dome as a vast external
feature, and crowned it with a culminating lantern, thus giving us at
once the leading features--and that on a scale never since exceeded--of
what I have called the _modern_ type of dome. Had he made its details
more accurately to harmonise with those of Arnolpho’s structure, his
work would have been perfect. Not only is his dome erected on Gothic
walls and arches, but its own section is a pointed arch, so that in all
but its decorative features--and in these in some degree--it is
essentially a Gothic dome. It is not, however, pendentive, nor is it
circular in plan; and, though opening by arches into the arms of the
cross, it is after all merely the covering of an octagonal chamber, so
that its claims rest more on its size, its height, and its external
beauty, than any novelty of development.

Of its successors the name is legion. It would be useless for me to
attempt to enumerate even the most successful of them. I will therefore
content myself with a brief description of the two most typical--those
of St. Peter’s, at Rome, and of our own St. Paul’s.

I am not aware of any dome of great scale erected in the interval
between Brunelleschi’s dome at Florence and that of Michael Angelo at
Rome. The latter, however, was the crowning result of the efforts of
successive architects, especially of Bramante and Sangallo. In one sense
it does, and the other it does not, show evidence of this lengthened
period of development.

[Illustration: Fig. 452.--Section looking North, St. Peter’s, Rome.
(_From Fergusson_).]

Its unity of design would bespeak it as the work of one master-mind,
while its perfection may mark it as the result of oft-repeated trials.

Though founded in idea on the dome at Florence, that of St. Peter’s
differs from it in many most important and essential particulars (Fig.
452). In the first place,--while that at Florence is supported from the
very floor upon an octagonal wall merely pierced by comparatively narrow
arches, that at St. Peter’s is essentially a _pendentive_ dome, rising
from four colossal piers which give it a square base, and united with
the four arms of the church by arches, or rather _vaults_ of vast span.
These arches, it is true, are not so wide as to reduce the pendentives
which rise from between them to triangular forms, but are set so far
apart as to leave a portion of the ideal circle between them, and to
give the pendentives a horizontal base.

This was necessary to give strength to the piers for the support of so
gigantic a structure, but in no degree interferes with the pendentive
character of the dome.

Again, at Florence the octagonal wall rises to the very base of the
dome, while at Rome the drum, from the pendentives upwards, is circular.
At Florence it is pierced only by rather ungainly circular windows,
while at Rome it is colonnaded within and without, and beautifully
decorated within. At Florence the dome is of that doubtful kind which
has straight sides, carrying up the octagonal form to the very top,
while at Rome the dome is circular and perfect. Both are in some degree
alike in construction, being _double_, with a space between, not two
domes, as at our St. Paul’s, but one dome formed of two shells
partially connected; a mode of construction well suited to the support
of the crowning lantern.

Both domes are founded in their section on the pointed arch. Their
internal span is nearly the same, but their proportions differ greatly;
for while that at Florence is internally only two of its diameters in
height, that at Rome is two and a half; and while the former is
externally one and three quarters of its diameter in height, the latter
is two diameters--each irrespective of the lantern. Strangely enough,
however, the great external defect of the dome of St. Peter’s is its
want of height. It is so encumbered by the surrounding building that its
height, from near points of view, is greatly lost. Like the
mountain--which seems to be its prototype--though towering nobly in the
distant view, it becomes as you approach it entangled among the nearer
though smaller heights. This is obviated at Florence--at least from the
eastern points of view--by the more favourable distribution of the
subordinate buildings.

The boast attributed to Michael Angelo--that he would raise the Pantheon
upon the top of the Temple of Peace--has more meaning than at first
appears. The Temple of Peace (so called), now known to have been the
Basilica of Maxentius, consists of a vast nave with aisles. The nave is
divided into three square bays of between 80 and 90 feet in width, and
these bays are groined. Had the pendentive dome been then known, each
bay might have been covered by such a dome as that which spans the
central bay of St. Sophia, and in such a case the _dome_ of the Pantheon
might, in

[Illustration: Fig. 453.--Half Elevation and Half Section looking East,
St. Paul’s, London. (_From Fergusson._)]

loose language, have been said to be placed upon four piers and four
arches of the Temple of Peace. But Michael Angelo aimed at much more
than this. It was not the _dome_ only, but the _whole structure_ of the
Pantheon, which (in a figure of speech) he thus intended to raise upon a
square substructure open on all sides to view from other parts of the
interior. Thus he raised upon his pendentives what he compared to the
_circular wall_ of the Pantheon, and _on that_ he raised its _dome_.
This was not, however, the whole of his task, for over the eye of the
dome (as of the Pantheon) he erected again another structure--a domed
rotunda--into which the eye reaches from below, and through whose
windows the light penetrates into the dome. And, _more than all this_,
instead of allowing his dome, as in the Pantheon, to be half buried
within the walls of the building, he made it rise boldly from their
upper surface, and gave it such a proportion as to render it an august
and beautiful object from every reasonably distant point from which it
is visible.

The task was _indeed_ one of which the greatest genius might fairly
boast!

Nearly every subsequent dome of any magnitude seems to have been
founded, more or less, upon St. Peter’s; and, so far as I can judge, our
own St. Paul’s is the noblest of them all.

The dome of St. Paul’s is clearly founded on that of St. Peter’s, though
subject to extensive changes (Fig. 453). The object of these changes
seems to have been threefold: 1. to render it more conspicuous
externally, especially from near points of view; 2. to avoid
disproportionate internal height, which was the more desirable from the
smaller size of the openings through which the interior is viewed; and
3. a desire to substitute _eight_ arches and pendentives for the _four_
at St. Peter’s. Thhe two former motives acting together led to the
greatest peculiarity which this dome possesses, viz.--it being in fact,
_two_ domes, one to be seen internally, and the other externally, with
the consequent necessity for providing some independent means for the
support of the culminating lantern. In this case, the proportions of the
interior and exterior are alike, each having two of its own diameters
from the base to the top of the dome. The external height is
consequently equal in proportion to that of St. Peter’s, while its
internal height is half a diameter less.

We have seen at Florence and St. Peter’s that the domes consist of a
double shell, connected at intervals by ribs--a very excellent method of
supporting a lantern when necessity demands so difficult a piece of
construction as its direct support by the dome itself. The space,
however, which Sir Christopher Wren left between his external and
internal domes rendered this constructional effort needless. He
accordingly provided for the load on the apex by a mere _cone_ of brick
intervening between his domes, giving it a threefold structure--a dome
proper within forming the covering of the church below; a cone of brick
above this, carrying the lantern; and a dome of timber over that, to
give comeliness to the exterior, and to serve as its roof.

This expedient (certainly rather complicated), has been very differently
dealt with by critics; some have extolled it as an original effort of
genius, while others have decried it as artificial and false. Neither
party have, as I think, full justice on their side. In the first place,
it is _not_ original, the same principle having been, centuries before,
acted on at St. Mark’s, Venice. It is true that, in that case, not the
external dome alone, but the lantern with its supports, are all of
timber. This does not, however, alter the principle in the least; for we
have the threefold structure--the dome proper, the supports of the
lantern, and the external dome--just as at St. Paul’s, as a glance at
the sections of the two will at once prove.[70] In more recent
structures, iron supports for the lantern have been substituted for the
brick cone, bringing it still more nearly to the type given by St.
Mark’s. In the second place, I hardly think, with this Mediæval
precedent before us, we need be so squeamish about the expedient being
artificial. We constantly find double coverings to our ancient
churches--the vault to be seen within and the roof without--and if we
desire to place a flèche riding upon the roof, we support it by
constructions concealed between the two. This is precisely what Wren has
done. The only difference against him is, that his roof is domical, and
suggests to the thoughtless observer that it is the same which he sees
within--a mere peccadillo, after all--and amply atoned by the fact that
you gain by it the power of giving due height both within and without,
and avoid the difficulty and danger of supporting a massive structure of
stone, as large as some church steeples, upon the apex of a dome.
Anyhow, public opinion has decided in favour of the expedient, for a
majority of subsequent domes are constructed on the same principle;
while I almost defy an architect now designing a dome and experiencing
these two difficulties--(1.) the artistic difficulty of making the same
dome look well from within and without; and (2.) the constructive
difficulty of balancing a steeple on the top of his dome--to resist the
temptation presented by this simple expedient; and the more so when
conscious of having for it a Mediæval precedent.

[Illustration: Fig. 454.--Ground Plan, St. Paul’s, London.]

[Illustration: Fig. 455.--Ground Plan, St. Peter’s, Rome. The shaded
portions indicate the Crypt.]

The dome of St. Paul’s is, externally, perhaps more successful than any
other. Internally, it is good from the supporting arches upwards,
excepting that it is damaged by the unreasonable system on which its
painted decorations have been designed.

The arches below are, however, an exception to its claims on our praise.

The scheme on which the plan of the dome and its accompaniments is set
out in St. Paul’s is totally different from that in St. Peter’s (Figs.
454, 455). In the latter the space beneath the dome is penetrated by the
nave and transept alone, irrespective of their aisles, which stop dead
against the piers of the dome. In the former the same space is
penetrated both by the nave and transept, and their aisles. To take
another view. In St. Peter’s, the square occupied by the dome and its
piers is surrounded on all sides by an aisle, low in the angles and
lofty in the centres of the sides; or, in other words, the aisles
failing to penetrate the dome, branch round its angles, while those of
Sir Christopher Wren pierce directly through it.

St. Paul’s has, externally, the advantage of the great corner piers
rising from the ground, unencumbered by surrounding buildings; but
internally, grandeur is sadly lost through the reduced span of the large
supporting arches, by the want of bold simplicity in the piers, the
meanness and irregularity of the smaller arches, and the confusion
caused by the mode in which the portion above them is arranged.

Externally, however, the outline of this dome is perhaps unequalled;
and, even internally, if you look at general effect, and close your eyes
to defects in detail, the impression produced is grand in the extreme.

I have used up all the time at my disposal without having even reached
one of the greatest classes of domical structures--those of the
different Mahometan nations, from Morocco and Southern Spain, by Egypt
and Turkey, to Persia and India.

I the less regret this because I leave it wholly untouched for some one
better acquainted with it than myself to take up: I will only offer two
remarks upon it. The first is, that it is wholly an offshoot of the
Byzantine style which was first adopted, and then developed by the
infidel conquerors. The second is, that it is throughout, or nearly so,
carried out with the pointed arch, and most usually with corbels instead
of pendentives, giving in these two directions an extension to the
developments which took place in Western Europe. I may also mention
that, in splendour of decoration, it is impossible to conceive anything
to go beyond it; though it is a style which seems alien to our Western
and Christian prepossessions.

We have seen that the cupola--the noblest of all architectural
features--belonged by right to Roman architecture; was continued in the
same style when it became Christian; was wonderfully developed in the
Eastern and Christian Roman Empire; was continued in the Middle Ages in
Italy, and transplanted into Germany and France; that it was taken up
during the early days of the Renaissance from the unfinished Gothic
cathedral at Florence and, through that semi-Mediæval, semi-Renaissance
graft, was thoroughly adopted into the revived Classic styles. What I
now want

[Illustration: PREMIATED DESIGN: PERSPECTIVE SECTION THROUGH DOME. NEW
PARLIAMENT HOUSE BERLIN

J. LEITCH & Cᵒˢ PHOTO GRAVURE

SIR GEO. GILBERT SCOTT R.A. ARCHITECT]

to press upon you is, that it should be equally welcomed into our
revived Gothic architecture. That revival needs but such a welcoming of
all that is good and noble to render it _complete_, and no feature
possesses these qualities in a higher degree than the cupola. Let us,
therefore, make it _our own_.

I have myself made some few attempts at this, which I venture to submit
to you.[71]

The dome, however, without its appropriate decorations, is but the body
without the soul. It is the sister art of painting which breathes life
into the otherwise breathless form. This painting must, however, be
adapted to its position with skill, knowledge, and study. I have not
time left to dilate on this subject, but commend it to the students of
that art, only begging them to remember that, while exercising their art
upon an object like the dome, which has an essential form on which its
very stability, real or apparent, depends, they _must_ keep it in such
subordination as not to disturb that essential, but rather to bring out
and emphasise it; otherwise, what I am urging will not prove a loving
union, but a hostile collision, of the two sister arts.




LECTURE XVIII.

Architectural Art in reference to the Past, the Present, and the Future.

     Sculpture and Painting arise directly from artistic aspirations,
     Architecture from practical necessities beautified--Architecture,
     as distinguished from mere building, is the _decoration of
     construction_--The History of Architecture has never been viewed as
     an object of study previous to our own day--Phases of the
     study--Dangers to be avoided--History of Architecture is the
     history of civilisation--Western distinct from Eastern
     civilisation, and to be studied separately--Source of our
     branch--Its development and progressive stages--The Gothic
     Renaissance--Advice to the architectural student.


I am now about to close the very fitful and non-continuous series of
lectures which I have from time to time, during the last fourteen years,
had the honour of delivering from this chair.

I have to express my regret that it has never been in my power, owing to
the press of other engagements, to give the full complement of six
lectures in each season; and that in some years I have been prevented by
circumstances--wholly beyond my own control--from lecturing at all. I
may further mention that my earlier lectures were only
_pro_-professorial, and were coupled with a parallel course on Classic
Architecture by Mr. Smirke, who subsequently, on being appointed
professor, took for five years the whole duty upon himself; so that, as
I said before, my own lectures have been but fitful and non-continuous.

I have further to confess that these lectures have been for the most
part limited to the particular phase of our art in which I am myself
most deeply interested; for I do not see much utility in artificially
forcing myself to appear as a teacher in a phase which is not that which
I view as my special mission.

I trust, however, that on my own special subject I may have been useful;
anyhow, I believe I have done more than has been done before, and I am
sure that I have at least taken an infinity of pains.

My lectures have been non-continuous, not only as to their periods of
delivery, but as to their subjects. I think, however, they will be found
to contain a fairly clear account of the rise and development of our
Mediæval architecture, with some useful digressions extending somewhat
beyond this range.

I have not continued this history of Mediæval architecture beyond the
period of its perfect development; because, beautiful though are its
late phases, their history does not maintain the same interest with that
of the noble enthusiasm which urged on its earlier growth.

On now closing my lectures I think I may become, for once, rather more
discursive, and may venture a little to the right and left, and in other
directions, in search of matters bearing generally upon architectural
art as viewed in reference to the past, the present, and the future, and
(which concerns yourselves more nearly) in reference to your own
individual studies.

Our art, as has so often been remarked, differs from the sister arts of
painting and sculpture in this, that whereas they arise directly from
the artistic aspirations of our nature, apart from practical
necessities and utility, ours arises first from these necessities, and
then from the desire to clothe the results with beauty. It may be said
that the yearning after abstract beauty unlinked with utility is the
higher and more spiritual sentiment; but, on the other hand, if we look
around us throughout the creations of nature, we are prompted to reply
that, in linking beauty with utility, we are more directly imitating Him
who made man in His own image, and in whose works this union of the
useful and the beautiful is one of the most universal characteristics.

Architecture, then, as distinguished from mere building, is the
_decoration of construction_. If I were lecturing on architecture, in
the broadest form of the expression, I must treat throughout of
construction, and of its decoration, _pari passu_, as the latter has but
little meaning if severed from the former, which is its groundwork. And,
even in lectures from this chair, where architecture is viewed specially
in its character as a Fine Art, it is still impossible--as indeed it
would be undesirable--wholly to sever that higher characteristic from
the more practical phase to which it owes its origin.

Now, the history of this concurrence of art with construction is the
History of Architecture; and, to an architectural historian who is
capable of taking at once an artistic, a philosophical, a political, and
a religious view of the facts which he chronicles, nothing can be more
interesting than to follow out from the earliest ages to which we can
carry back our researches, firstly, the practical changes in building,
arising from the exigencies of climate, the stage of civilisation, the
traditions of race, and the varied influences of political and religious
circumstances; and to connect with these the changes, the progress, and
perhaps the decline and degradation of the art made use of in the
decoration of their buildings; and to trace out the causes which led to
these changes.

Let us not, however, suppose that a knowledge, however intimate or
accurate, of architectural history, is of necessity a part of the study
of architecture itself. On the contrary, at no period when a genuine,
unborrowed style of architecture has prevailed, has any knowledge
whatever existed of the history of art; nor at any period previous to
our own has the history of architecture--beyond a very limited knowledge
of that of Greece and Rome--been viewed as an object of study.

From the dawn of civilisation to what is known as “the revival of
letters,” the leading nations of the world possessed each a genuine
architecture of their own; all growing, by a natural growth, from an
original stem--unborrowed and unimitated--and practised by artists
highly skilled in their art, but ignorant of its history.

The “revival of letters” was followed by a revival also of the
architecture of those races whose literature was resuscitated; and with
this revival came a certain, though scanty, knowledge of its history;
but the investigation of the entire history of architectural art, and
the constituting it into a branch of our literature, has been reserved
for a period which possesses no architectural style of its own,
excepting as the result of revival or imitation.

Is, then, this study to be viewed as a thing to be avoided? Certainly
not. Our predecessors worked honestly, and with perfect success, in
accordance with the conditions of their times; those of our times are
wholly different, though, I fear, the reverse of favourable; but,
nevertheless, they _are_ the conditions to which we have succeeded in
the due course of events which we could but little control. It may be
that this historical and archæological tendency of our time is the
saving clause in our position, which, in its absence, might have been an
utter blank. Let us not, then, throw away that which, for aught we know,
may be our solitary birthright, in the vain hope of recovering
conditions long since passed out of our reach. It is ours rather to use
well and wisely what we possess, regulating, controlling, and guiding
it; striving earnestly after better things by whatever means; but
without rejecting those suggested by the circumstances of our period.

Nevertheless, let it ever be remembered that _art history_ is not _art_,
nor architectural history architecture. They may, like the syren’s song,
lead us wide of our mark, though they may, perhaps, if rightly used, be
made to guide or aid us in a right path.

The study, however, of architectural history has many and wholly
differing phases. It may, for example, be followed purely from an
historical and archæological point of view, or it may be pursued mainly
with an artistic sentiment. Both are interesting, but, I need hardly
say, the latter is the spirit in which our studies as artists should be
followed up.

It may, again, even if artistic in its purpose, be followed up
generally, and through the whole course of the history of the art; or it
may, while not neglecting the main line of history, be concentrated and
intensified upon those styles, or that style, which we desire to be the
guide and foundation of our own artistic productions. I need not say
that here, again, the latter is the course most profitable to ourselves.

The great danger of the study is the dissipation and unfocussing of our
own artistic thoughts; just as the great strength of the days when this
study was unknown, was the absolute concentration of all architectural
thought upon the matter actually in hand; an advantage which in our day
is absolutely, and, I fear, irrecoverably lost.

Be this, however, as it may, it has become a part of the necessary
education of a gentleman to know something of the past history of our
great art; and, _a fortiori_, it is necessary to an _architect_, if only
as a matter of literary culture. We must, however, take care that our
thoughts and tastes are not led away by it into a state of objectless
dissipation, having no concentration on any one guiding form of art, but
viewing all forms of beauty with equal pleasure, and free from any
strong and healthy preference.

The most natural course for the student of architectural history is to
limit himself mainly and firstly (though not eventually, perhaps) to
those styles from which our own architecture, whether native or
borrowed, whether living or revived, is lineally descended--“to look to
the rock whence we were hewn.” And truly it is a right glorious
genealogy which we can boast.

The history of architecture is the history of civilisation, for
architecture unites and embraces the sister arts, and art is the visible
exponent of civilisation.

Our more Western civilisation is distinct from that of the far East;
and, without disparagement to the latter, its study may be viewed as
separate from it.

Our own branch of civilisation and art may be said to have arisen on the
banks of the Euphrates, of the Tigris, and of the Nile, and to have
moved westward with a quiet course along the genial shores of the
Mediterranean; while the Eastern branch took a contrary direction by
India and China, reaching Japan, and perhaps the opposite continent of
America. Let us, however, confine our attention to our own branch.

Though the banks of the Euphrates and the Tigris were the nursery of our
traditions, and though recent discovery has made us in some degree
familiar with their architectural monuments, we, nevertheless, fail to
trace them back to a period which will compare with the antiquity of the
remains on the banks of the Nile. In studying the one we long for relics
carrying us back to a date even approaching that of the known history of
the inhabitants, while in the other we are perplexed to find
chronological room for works stretching back into such unknown regions
of the past.

Egypt must, we may fear, ever remain a land of mystery. Its chronology
seems inscrutable; its painting, its sculpture, and its architecture
alike wonderful and mysterious. One flash of historical light shines
upon its early days--like the lightning upon the midnight landscape--in
the Scriptural history of those three centuries during which the people
of Israel sojourned there, and helped in their slavery to prepare
materials for its structures. After this it seems again involved in
indistinctness till the period of its decline. Its monuments seem
continuous through all these ages, and even onwards to the days of the
Roman Empire; but how early they commenced no antiquary has yet been
able to show; while the earliest and latest monuments--those preceding
Greek architecture by, perhaps, fifteen hundred years, and those erected
when that art was in decay--as clearly belong to one and the same style
as do the earlier and later of our own Mediæval buildings.

Their character may be said to be threefold. The imitation almost of
mountains in the pyramids, the rock-cut tombs, and the architecture
proper, which is columnar in its most stupendous form, and whose
greatest remaining monument is the mighty Hall of Karnac, with its
hundred and thirty columns, perhaps the most impressive of all the works
of antiquity. All these were accompanied by painting and sculpture of a
highly mythic but most marked and characteristic kind.

An art like this, existing in full perfection in its ancient monuments,
and also as a still living art, side by side with the rise of Grecian
architecture, could not fail to exercise some influence upon it; yet the
evidences of that influence are far from being clear. The genius of the
two peoples was absolutely distinct, and Egypt was already a conquered
nation while Greece was making its early strides towards fame. They
were, too, of wholly different races, so that, though the young
nation--during those brilliant strivings which led to its surpassing
all races of men in its culture--was familiar with Egypt, and must have
looked with wonder at its almost appalling structures, it is, after all,
but little that we can trace of actual imitation, and that, strangely
enough, not of the productions of its living art, but of a phase which
had been extinct fully a thousand years. The inner and earliest
sanctuaries at Karnac, and an obscure rock-cut tomb at Beni Hassan,
contain pillars to which we trace some resemblance in the Grecian Doric,
but whether that resemblance was intentional or accidental no one can
say. Curiously, the tomb at Beni Hassan evinces proof of the imitation
of timber construction, which gives it an additional alliance with the
Doric; but can we conceive of a new art, founded on wood construction,
being imitated from an art of a thousand years back, which chanced to
evince the same conditions? As reasonable would it be for timber
constructors in our own colonies to make pilgrimages to Anglo-Saxon
churches which happen to suggest a timber prototype, in search of types
for their new structures.

More reasonable, however, it may be to suppose that the latest type of
Greek art, the Corinthian capital, may have been suggested by the
foliated and bellshaped capitals of Egyptian columns.

Passing, for a moment, from the Nile to the Tigris, we find buried under
the Assyrian mounds an architecture as different as possible from the
Greek, yet containing a few almost accidental foreshadowings of some of
its details. This architecture seems, however, to have influenced
firstly that of Babylon (now almost wholly lost), and subsequently that
of the Persian monarchy, which brings us again in contact with the
Greeks.

Here we find, at last, a direct similarity in taste; for, different as
are their capitals, no one can look at drawings of the columns of the
Chehil Minar--the great hall or temple built by Xerxes at
Persepolis--without being convinced that there was a near relationship
in their style to that of Greece. This resemblance, however, is not to
the earliest phase of Greek--the Doric--which was its contemporary, but
to its second phase--the Ionic--which, putting aside the chronological
difficulty, need not be wondered at, as the Ionian cities had long lain
within the Persian monarchy. Yet it goes to prove that the influence of
Persian architecture was unconnected with the origin of that of Greece,
and only affected its more advanced stage.

I view Greek architecture, then, in the main, as an art of spontaneous
growth. Its first form, the Doric, as strictly and absolutely Greek; the
second, the Ionic, as Greek in the main, but with a few suggestions from
the land of the Great King; and the third, the Corinthian, as equally
Greek, but with one single suggestion, perhaps from Egypt; the whole as
the spontaneous creation of that most wonderful, in intellectual power,
of all the races of man--that race, inspired as it would almost seem, of
God, to be our instructors in literature and art, and our initiators in
science, just as was another people to be the teachers of His holy
religion.

The actual origin of Greek architecture is buried in impenetrable
obscurity. If the building called the Treasury of Atreus, or the Tomb
of Agamemnon, was really of that period, it would distinctly prove that
what we now know as Grecian architecture was unknown to the heroes in
the “Iliad,” inasmuch as over its entrance remains a little piece of
highly-decorative columnar work, bearing no resemblance to the
subsequent architecture of Greece, and going far to prove that these
early inhabitants of Greece had a style of building which did not evince
a timber but a stone original. Of these early structures, including the
Cyclopean walls of the Pelasgian cities, Mr. Freeman eloquently
remarks:--“These awful remains of the world’s youth stand before us as
the relics of unrecorded days, of the dim times of poetic legend,
enveloped as they were in religious mystery for ages before a line of
what we deem ancient history was penned. The historians and philosophers
of the days of Pericles knew no more of the authors of these gigantic
fragments than ourselves; all that survived, even to them, were the
shadows of fallen greatness, the feeble echoes of a voice long since
hushed in death. Our ancients had to explore the remains of these far
earlier days by the same faint glimmerings of legend and tradition as
ourselves ... and to us, whose early youth is spent among the immortal
lays, whose living substance is called up by even the pictured
resemblance of these massive piles--monuments, as we would fain believe,
of the days of Achilles and the Atridæ, and the old time before them--to
us every rugged stone seems vocal with some old heroic legend. Each
gateway may have seen the marshalling of heroes arrayed to man the
thousand ships of Argos, and to wait upon their chariot-wheels, to whom
Zeus had consigned her twofold throne and sceptre.”

The difficulty is to explain how, in a country where a distinctly stone
architecture (stone not only in fact but in idea) had for ages existed,
it could be suddenly changed for an architecture evidently based upon a
timber ideal. Were it only the Cyclopian walls of the old cities which
remained, the perplexity would be less. Such walls exist also in
Etruria; yet we gather from Vitruvius that the Etruscan temples had a
construction founded upon timber. It is that little scrap of actual
columnar architecture at Mycenæ which defies explanation, but which is
thought to point to an Assyrian original.

The Dorians, however, were a different (how different is not known) and
an invading race. It may be that their former seat had been in a
specially timber country, and their former architecture actually of
wood; and that, on migrating into a stone country, they translated their
architecture into its prevailing material.

The intrinsic marvel, however, is their power to invest an art, so
homely in its origin and so simple in its character, with such sublimity
of aspect and such refined beauty of detail. But why should we wonder at
this? Look for a moment at their figure-sculpture even in its first
archaic simplicity, and we need not wonder at what such men could do.
But, oh! look at it again, after the desolating Persian had been driven
from their shores, when the shattered institutions of Greece had been
re-established, and her ruined temples restored; when national glory,
self-gratulation, and thankfulness had given a new and generous impulse
to every feeling of the great mind and soul of Greece; and see then
what art they produced (you know it right well in the Elgin-room at our
own museum), and you need not wonder at any other miracles of art that
they performed!

I am not going to drag you through all the changes in ancient
architecture: you will see for yourselves how the majesty of the Doric
Temple was succeeded by the greater refinement and elegance of the
Ionic, and the richness of the Corinthian, though their developments
were not exclusive of one another like those of Mediæval art, but
cumulative and practised side by side.

I confess that, so far as capitals are concerned, I agree with Mr.
Ruskin in thinking the first and the last each more reasonable than the
second. The moulded capital and the foliated capital are things of all
time. The voluted capital was an accidental introduction from the East,
and has no permanent meaning, wonderful though it be.

The special features, however, for artistic study in Grecian
architecture, of whatever order, are the exquisiteness of its
proportions, the purity of its lines, the refinement of its mouldings
and enrichments, and the superhuman instinct it evinces for delicacy and
almost spirituality in the refinement and perfection of every line; but
above all these is the manner in which it welcomes, indeed presses, into
its service--or rather devotes itself to the service of--the
all-glorious sculpture of which it was at once the dutiful handmaid and
the loving mistress. Nor need we doubt that it treated the painter’s art
one whit less lovingly.

As a style, the sentiment of Greek architecture may be said to be a
quiet, calm solidity and repose, free from all question as to its
stability, because it admits of no pressure but what is vertical. This
quality, however, it shares with the Egyptian; but the Greek unites with
it the most studied symmetry of proportion, the greatest purity of line,
the most refined detail, and the noblest allied art.

When the Greek orders were adopted by the Romans--a most natural
alliance, seeing that the Greeks built within a comparatively short
distance from Rome on the south, and that the Etruscans in the north
borrowed Greek decorative art--we find that they united with it an
element in itself discordant with the simple static principle which gave
such calm dignity to the Greek. It is, as I have heard, a saying among
the Moslem builders in India that the arch “never sleeps;” it is always
night and day pushing outward. Thus, purely trabeated architecture
sleeps in safety, while arcuated architecture never ceases to exert
force. The one is a static, the other a dynamic style--only becoming
static when its abutments are of undoubted sufficiency. Thus, repose
belongs of a right to one, but has to be purposely secured in the other.

We know next to nothing of the early architecture of the Romans. Recent
excavations show the walls of the time of the kings to have been pretty
much like those of Etruscan cities; and it is probable that, like the
Etruscans, they early introduced the arch as a leading principle of
construction. When they superadded to their own architecture (whatever
it was) that of Greece, the latter became in many cases an artistic
veil, concealing more or less the actual construction; and even where
the artistic effect was purely trabeated, we find arches used behind it
to aid the apparent construction. The two systems were thus used
together and side by side, gradually uniting themselves into one. In
purely engineering works the arch became boldly predominant. In purely
architectural works it was often wholly concealed; while in works of an
intermediate kind the two were used together, naturally and with perfect
freedom. Nor were these or the purely arcuated structures open to the
objection of presenting any apparent instability, for their massiveness
was such as to defy all suspicion of want of strength.

It is true that the Romans, from a want of that delicacy of taste and
eye which characterised the Greeks, failed to treat their details with
the same refinement, though this was not always the case; but, in spite
of this defect, the Roman style greatly amplified and extended the
capabilities of classic architecture, rendering it capable of meeting
every possible emergency and demand, whether of material or of
construction, and giving it a cosmopolitan character suited to a people
which had conquered the world, and which, if itself a race of iron,
united under its world-wide sway the brass, the silver, and the gold of
the older rulers of mankind.

Of Egyptian architecture we have little but of vast tombs and colossal
temples; of Assyrian and Persian structures much the same may be said.
Of Greek we have little but the temples, and a few public works of a
monumental character; while of Roman architecture we have works of every
possible description, meeting every demand, necessity, or wish. Such
works must have existed during older periods, but were probably on an
inferior scale and of ephemeral construction; but those of Rome were
marked and permanent in their structure, and have thus been handed down
to our own day, so that we may say that the whole range of their
architecture is perfectly known to us; and, so far as we are concerned,
it is the first of ancient styles which can be called complete.

As time went on, we find the arch, the vault, and the dome asserting,
ever more and more, their supremacy. The influence of the Christian
Church followed this on in the most marked manner; and, when the seat of
empire was removed to a new, an Eastern and Christian metropolis, where
no great monuments of older or Pagan art existed, this change would
appear to have gone on with yet increased rapidity.

We have of late years become better acquainted with the course of this
change through the discovery of the ancient cities of Central Syria, and
their illustration by the Count de Vogüé, which show us what the late
Roman and early Byzantine buildings of every class were on a scale
suited to provincial towns, though influenced by the local tendency to
megalithic construction which pervades the old architectures of Syria. I
have not time to dwell upon these most instructive remains, which,
beginning in Pagan and going on into Christian times, culminate in the
vast and splendid dome erected over the pillar of St. Simeon Stylites.
I, however, commend De Vogüé’s work to your attention.

In my lectures on the Dome I have said almost as much on Byzantine
architecture as is perhaps needful for the purpose of this rapid
sketch. I may add, however, that it was a purely or almost purely
arcuated style, though yet more pre-eminently a domed style, and most of
all a purely Christian style; that it rejoiced in surface decoration, in
painting and mosaic, and in marble incrustation and inlay, though, from
religious scruples, it discouraged sculpture. It delighted in every form
of Oriental splendour, and the representation which its mosaics afford
us of its secular buildings, when in full perfection, shows us that,
though splendid solemnity characterised its churches, gaiety was a
marked element in its more ordinary architecture. It is true that the
gradual decay of the Empire caused a decline in the artistic quality of
its buildings; yet we must admit its architecture to be one of the
boldest and most original of developments; and we owe to Byzantium a
heavy debt of gratitude for having kept alight the lamp of art during
the long and dreary ages when Western Europe was trampled down by
barbarian hordes, its arts destroyed, and its civilisation well-nigh
forgotten.

It was from this still glimmering lamp that Charlemagne nobly attempted,
though almost in vain, to rekindle that of the Western Empire. It was
from the same that the three first Othos made a second and more
successful effort; it was from thence that the revived art was further
aided at the time of the Crusades; and to this source we, in a large
degree, owe our modern civilisation. All thanks and honour, then, be to
the unfortunate Eastern Empire, which, having performed its work, has
now so long been trodden under foot of the Gentiles!

As architectural art recovered itself, after the ages of darkness, the
later works of old Christian Rome, the still living architecture of
Byzantium, and the half-living architecture of the day in Rome itself,
formed together the groundwork of the revival. This architecture was all
mainly arcuated; and the increased difficulty of obtaining and
transporting large blocks of stone tended to render this the necessary
element in the reviving style. We know the style which thus rose in
Italy. I do not believe myself that much of this is so old as the time
of the Lombard kings, but that it was in a much greater degree the work
of the Othos--emperors at once of Italy and of Germany--and thus
extending the same style from the south of the Alps, across into
Germany, and onwards almost to the Baltic. I cannot, in this short
lecture, follow up the details of this early Romanesque style; but I beg
you to do so for yourselves, and at the same time to make yourselves
acquainted with the contemporary architecture of France, in which,
subject to many variations, the same feeling will be found to prevail.

I have, in my last lecture, mentioned the introduction of purely
Byzantine architecture at Venice, as especially illustrated in St.
Mark’s and the churches at Torcello, etc., and, I may add, in secular
buildings. I mentioned also its transference, apparently by the
Venetians, into the south-west of France, where and whence it exercised
a very decided influence on the subsequent architecture, and I have, in
one of my early lectures, shown the extension of that influence at a
later date--in the form of architectural sculpture--into the north of
France, and thence into our own country. I will here add that parallel,
though not exactly similar, evidences of Byzantine influence pervade the
Romanesque of Germany, whose rulers were in constant communication with
the Eastern Empire--an influence greatly promoted in decorative art by
the importation of woven fabrics, metal-work, jewellery, and
illuminations from the East into the West.

From such united influences, added to and aiding the earnest strivings
after refined and improved art, arose the Romanesque architecture of the
eleventh and twelfth centuries, becoming at length a perfectly original,
consistent, and artistic development of arcuated architecture.

I have, in my previous lectures, gone much into detail in recording and
explaining the history of the development of this Romanesque into the
subsequent pointed-arch style. It is, perhaps, mockery to refer you back
to lectures which probably no one now present heard; but time will not
allow me to do more, and should they be published, you may perhaps think
it worth your while to refer to them.

As the Byzantine was the Christian architecture of the East, so was the
Pointed style the culminating Christian architecture of our own group of
nations in the West; and, while the former had the disadvantage of being
developed during ages of gradually declining civilisation, the young and
vigorous shoot which grew from it in the West had the immense advantage
of developing itself during the vigorous upstriving of a new and better
civilisation.

To ourselves it is incomparably more interesting, inasmuch as it became
the architecture, _par excellence_, of our own and immediately
neighbouring countries. It grew up in this country with our
institutions; it is of the same age with our constitution and our system
of laws, and in many respects with our ecclesiastical polity. It adapted
itself to our climate, our materials, and our scenery. In this style are
the monuments of our kings and of our forefathers; and, above all, in
its original and identical temples do we still celebrate the offices of
our holy religion. Well, then, may we say--in common with each nation of
Western Europe--that this is our own, our natural and our national
style!

And well may we glory in this assertion, for look at the monuments of
that style! I have not been stinting or cold-hearted in my eulogy of the
architecture of ancient Greece and Rome, so I may call you to witness
that I am not narrow or one-sided if I give way to a generous enthusiasm
now I come to speak of that which we may proudly call our own.

The architecture which produced our glorious cathedrals and abbeys; our
churches of every scale, from these down to that of the humblest hamlet;
which produced the colleges of our universities, with their noble
chapels and halls; which produced the stately municipal buildings of the
great manufacturing cities of Mediæval Europe; with every form of
structure needed, for whatever purpose; and united true and appropriate
art with every form of building, from the humblest to the most stately.
An architecture, too, which decorated its edifices with such a form of
art as our ancient painted glass; and which carried on its influences
over metal-work, jewellery, painted decorations, and every collateral
art in the same spirit of exquisite and original taste, may well claim
to stand side by side with the most glorious productions of antiquity;
but to ourselves, as the inhabitants of the countries where it
prevailed, and the descendants of the artists who produced it, it has
pre-eminent claims to our most loving and enthusiastic admiration; while
the more closely, constantly, and carefully we study its remains, the
more entirely shall we be convinced that our love and admiration cannot
exceed what is due to its intrinsic excellencies.

This architecture, though a lineal descendant of those of the old world,
was, when in the fulness of its development, so absolutely diverse from
them that they can in no way be compared by likeness, but only by
contrariety. It was an absolutely new phase of art, bearing no kind of
resemblance to its early progenitors. Where their characteristics were
horizontality of line, directly downward pressure, a clinging closely to
mother-earth, and an imperturbable repose,--we may almost say an eternal
sleep,--those of this new creation were an upward soaring, an apparent
inversion of gravitation into a striving towards heaven, and a vivacious
wakefulness in every feature. Constructively, instead of the mere
support of dead weight, its principle is the systematic balancing of an
infinity of diagonal pressures; yet this, though a constructive fact, is
not an artistic characteristic, for in its more spiritual effects,
weight and thrust seem to be annihilated, and converted into upward
striving, so that the archivolt, the flying buttress, and the ribs of
the vaulted roofs, seem rather the medium of upward than of downward
pressure. In elegance and expressiveness of detail, no previous style
had surpassed it; in endless variety of imagination or in spirituality
of sentiment, none had ever approached it. It was the greatest marvel
that architectural art had produced, and it united all these magic
qualities with a gravity and solemnity in the temple, a stern solidity
in the castle, an asceticism in the monastery, a quiet, retiring
sentiment in the seat of learning, a cheerfulness in its civic and
domestic structures, and a deeply touching expression in its sepulchral
monuments, which no style could possibly go beyond, and none have yet
equalled.

It presented, too, during its course, a beautiful series of variations.
Its earliest phase stern and precise, with details rivalling the Greek
in the studiousness of their contour; in its second, lighter and less
severe; in its third, branching off into an infinity of charming lines,
suggestive almost of vegetable growth; and in its last, while returning
rather to earlier rigidity, indulging in new developments scarcely
foreshadowed by its earlier forms. Thus, at Glastonbury, at Salisbury,
in the choir of Westminster, in the naves of York and Winchester, and in
the Chapels of King’s College and of Henry VII. we have a series of
works, all belonging to the same general type of architecture, yet
presenting diversities the most marked and beauties the most varied.

Nor was it alone in its successive periods that varied phases were
produced. Each country in which it flourished had its own series of
national and provincial types. Thus, in France, in England, in Germany,
in Spain, and in Italy, and even in far-off Scandinavia, we find it
adopting ever-changeful forms, though all belonging to the same great
stem.

Mr. Fergusson, though an opponent of its revival, thus speaks of Gothic
architecture:--“Not even the great Pharaonic era in Egypt, the age of
Pericles in Greece, nor the great period of the Roman empire, will bear
comparison with the thirteenth century in Europe, whether we look to the
extent of the buildings executed, their wonderful variety and
constructive elegance, the daring imagination that conceived them, or
the power of poetry and lofty religious feeling that is expressed in
every feature and in every part of them.”

And again, while speaking of its sculpture, which is not usually
considered as its strongest point, he remarks:--“The great cathedrals of
Chartres and Rheims even now retain some 5000 figures scattered about or
grouped together in various parts, beginning with the history of the
creation of the world and all the wondrous incidents of the first
chapter of Genesis, and then continuing the history through the whole of
the Old Testament. In these sculptures the story of the redemption of
mankind is told, as set forth in the New, with a distinctness and at the
same time with an earnestness almost impossible to surpass. On the other
hand, ranges of statues of kings of France and other popular potentates,
carry on the thread of profane history to the period of the erection of
the cathedral itself. Besides these, we have, interspersed with them,
the whole system of moral philosophy, as illustrated by the virtues and
vices, each represented with an appropriate symbol, and the reward or
punishment its invariable accompaniment. In other parts are shown all
the arts of peace, every process of husbandry in its appropriate season,
and each manufacture or handicraft in all its principal forms. Over all
these are seen the heavenly hosts, with saints, angels, and archangels.
All this is so harmoniously contrived and so beautifully expressed, that
it becomes a question even now whether the sculpture of these cathedrals
does not excel the architecture.”

Noble and exquisite, however, as it was, it at length ran its course;
and, by some uncontrollable movement of the human mind, it gave way to
what the world had, till then, never witnessed--a resuscitated style.

I will not attempt to philosophise on this new phenomenon in art. It
seems to have originated in a double cause; firstly, the very natural
pride felt by the Italians in the antique monuments of their own land
and their own race; and, secondly, in the appreciation of these antique
monuments which was engendered and fostered by the revived love of
classical literature.

It is not difficult to understand how this tended to the revival in
Italy of old Roman art; and, once revived there, the centre of
ecclesiastical and, in a great degree, of literary influence, the
centre, too, of the revival of painting in its highest form, it need not
be wondered that it spread itself as a fashion into more northern
countries where the same literary tastes had taken root. However this
may be, the fact is undoubted, that from this time forward original art
ceased, and borrowed or resuscitated art took its place.

My predecessor, Mr. Smirke, in one of his lectures, gave a highly
interesting description of the noble enthusiasm which inspired the early
architects of the Renaissance in Italy; and I can quite appreciate this
feeling in a land where the Mediæval styles were less deeply rooted,
where classical traditions had never been extinct, and where the
reminiscences of ancient Rome were a subject of national exultation. The
revival of the noble literature of their mighty ancestors could scarcely
fail, in such a country, to prompt a wish to revive their arts; and I am
convinced that such a revival became a spontaneous and irresistible
movement, wholly unconnected with any premeditated plan.

Anyhow, whether for good or for ill, the revival was a great and potent
fact; and its results have now lasted as long as the whole period of the
ascendancy of Pointed architecture, and have extended their sway to all
parts of the globe where European influence is felt; nor can its
opponents deny that, on its native soil especially, its productions were
often of the most masterly description and exquisite beauty; enriched as
they are by decorative painting which has never been excelled; by
sculpture of which antique artists would not have been ashamed; and by
other arts of proportionate merit. In other lands, it has produced works
of which no one would venture to dispute the value; and, though a
borrowed style, it has developed anew many marked chronological and
national varieties, and has produced, as we have seen in my last
lecture, works and types scarcely even foreshadowed by its antique
originals.

Nevertheless, in the opinion at least of many, it had, by the close of
the last century or early in the present, so far run its course, at
least in this country, as to have lost its old artistic power. Art had
become enfeebled, while art-history had risen more prominently into
view; and the decay of the one was promoted by the distraction of
thought occasioned by the other.

The revived knowledge of the architecture of Greece rudely disturbed the
vernacular style derived from Rome, so that by about the year 1830 the
old state of things seemed almost hopelessly damaged; and every
architect, instead of working on the traditions handed down to him by
his predecessors, seemed to do just what was right in his own eyes,
though with a special rage for not very practicable reproductions of
Greek, coupled with a conviction that Roman and its derivatives were
little short of barbarous.

All the traditions of the past appeared to be broken up. Our every-day
architecture, as exhibited in ordinary houses, had become mean and
contemptible in the extreme; and, though things have since greatly
mended, it has been from a purely eclectic, and not in the least degree
from a traditional, point of view; while the untutored house-builder,
left to himself, even now disports himself in reminiscences of these
first decades of our century--the halcyon days of Gower Street and
Tavistock Place.

It was just at this strange juncture that, by some occult influence, the
public mind was brought back to view--first with interest, and then with
admiration and love--the long-neglected architecture of our own country
and our own race (or group of kindred races). At first this was with no
intention or thought of revival; it was only interest, admiration, and
love. Writers on this subject, whether friendly or hostile, affect to
systematise the movement; but it was wholly unsystematic. It arose from
the inmost feelings of the heart, and in no degree from premeditation or
plan.

It is now the fashion to speak contemptuously of revivals; and truly
they do seem strange and inconsistent after following the more natural
history of art from the dawn of civilisation to the Renaissance. Yet I
cannot but agree with Mr. Smirke that the Classic revival was, in the
land, at least, of its rise, a natural, spontaneous, and unpremeditated
movement of the human mind. That the Gothic Renaissance was so too, I
know, for it was my own happy lot to be a humble agent in it, and I am
old enough to have watched it, I may say practically, if not literally,
from its commencement.

People talk of Horace Walpole, of Sir Walter Scott, or of any one else
they like, as the early promoters of the feeling which led to the
revival. I do not know how it may have been with others, but, for
myself, I know that my love for Gothic architecture was absolutely
spontaneous, and that I had no kind of incentive for following up its
study other than the delight I took in it, before I knew a word about
other architecture, or was acquainted even with the published works on
our own, and that, without a thought of its study ever becoming
practically useful to me. I am convinced that the revived love for our
old buildings, followed as it was subsequently by a desire to imitate
their architecture, was as spontaneous and as irresistible a movement
of the human mind as those which had originated either Classic or
Mediæval art, or that which, two thousand years after its first rise,
had led to the revival of the former. It is true that its results have
not yet been so all-pervading as those of the Classic Renaissance, yet
they have been very great; out and away the most marked feature in
modern architectural history, inasmuch as it, almost alone, has resulted
from ardent and genuine enthusiasm, and from the inmost recesses of the
heart.

As one of the survivors from among the more active of the earlier agents
in this great movement, I may claim a right to dilate a little on my
reminiscences of it.

In writing respecting it, nearly nineteen years ago, when my memories
were more fresh, I made the following remarks:--

I described the movement as “being the development of a new and vigorous
style upon the foundation of the glorious architecture of our own
country and of our own forefathers, in the place of one at once alien to
our race and our religion.

“This,” I went on to say, “I need hardly tell you is a mighty and most
arduous undertaking--so mighty indeed, and so arduous, that I doubt
whether, if it had been in the first instance fully appreciated, any
body of men could have been found with sufficient daring to set about
it. The strength, however, of the movement lies in the fact that it was
not deliberate nor preconcerted, but was the involuntary working out of
a deeply-seated mental revolution. It was not that a body of men
deliberately banded themselves together to carry out and propagate
particular tastes or opinions; such would have been but a feeble, or at
best an ephemeral and merely local movement; it was rather that a number
of persons, in different neighbourhoods and countries, and without any
concert, had been led by their own unbiassed and unguided instincts to
an appreciation of the long-neglected beauties of our own indigenous
architecture. This” (with other feelings), I proceeded to say, “had led
them first to study, then to imitate, and ultimately to attempt the
revival of the style which had thus involuntarily approved itself to
their natural perceptions of what is right and beautiful.

“There is here no conspiracy, no organised movement, no preconcerted
effort. Not one of those engaged in it ever thought of its being a
movement at all; few of them knew in the first instance that others were
affected by the same feelings with themselves, nor perhaps were
conscious of any external causes which had given rise to such sentiments
in themselves. Yet all, from some internal impulse, seem severally to
have been impelled in one and the same direction; and, having at a later
period discovered the concurrence of their feelings, their efforts have
since assumed the form of a united movement, though originating from the
individual and unbiassed feeling of persons wholly unknown to each
other.”

In the same paper I spoke in the following terms of the greatest of the
early promoters, and in fact the great hero and Coryphæus of our
revival, and of the societies which were formed throughout the country
for the furthering of the study of our ancient architecture:--“About the
time I am referring to, an immense impulse was given to the reformation
of architecture by the earlier publications of Pugin. His _Contrasts_,
published in 1836,”--an architectural _jeu d’esprit_, placing side by
side in somewhat burlesqued contrast, selections from Mediæval and
modern works,--“while it enraged the majority of our architects, excited
others most strongly to press forward toward better things. His _True
Principles of Pointed or Christian Architecture_, which appeared in
1841, was a gigantic step in advance. It grappled at once with all the
fallacies which had corrupted modern architecture, and established a
code of rules, founded upon common sense, utility, and truth; while his
_Apology_ which came out a little later, showed the necessity of falling
back upon our national style, and its ready applicability to every
requirement of our day. In the meantime the success of his own personal
labours was truly astonishing. Not only were the advances he made in the
revival of Pointed architecture most rapid, showing genius in every
touch,--this was, in fact, the smallest of his achievements,--he
actually revived by his own personal exertions nearly every one of its
subsidiary arts: architectural carving and sculpture, stained glass,
decorative painting, metal-work,--whether in brass or wrought
iron,--gold and silver work, enamelling, embroidery, woven textures,
paperhangings, encaustic tiles, the manufacture of furniture, and even
of ordinary household crockery-ware,--all felt the impress of his hand
and of his genius.

“Shortly after Pugin became publicly known, the same course began to be
vigorously taken up in our own Church. The societies formed in
connection with both Universities were followed up by others in all
parts of the country. That vigorous periodical, the _Ecclesiologist_ ...
did immense service in exposing the desecration and degradation to which
our old churches were subjected, and in promulgating correct principles
of ecclesiastical architecture and arrangement.

“A noble feeling for the subject rapidly spread itself among all
classes. The zeal for church building and restoration greatly outran the
increased knowledge, acts of individual munificence multiplied on all
hands, and an entirely new state of things came about.”

Two more decades have nearly passed over our revival since I thus
chronicled its progress; and, if it has had (as has been my own painful
experience) reverses to deplore, it has had a continued series of
successes to rejoice over; and if its early ardour has at all sobered
down, this has served, for the most part, to give steadiness and
maturity to its efforts; and anyhow, it now possesses architects and
other artists of distinguished talent to carry on the work, and, while
it has long held absolute possession of the ecclesiastical architecture
of the day, it now adds to this many of the most important of our
secular buildings.

Its success has been indeed enormous; yet its failures and drawbacks
have been in proportion to it. Its artistic merit has been limited to
those who have followed it up with an earnest and generous enthusiasm,
for it has unhappily been practically followed up by a mixed multitude
who view it as a fashion of the day, by which professional practice is
to be obtained; but are devoid of all ardour and love for what they are
engaged upon. The consequence is that, while we have a certain
proportion of new churches and other buildings which need not shrink
from comparison with those of the Middle Ages, we have a swarm of
others--mere cold-blooded, heartless travesties--a disgrace to our age,
and a disfigurement to our towns; but, worse still, while a minority (as
I fear) of our ancient churches have been repaired or restored by men
who treat them with a loving care, and with studious and intelligent
reverence, a large proportion are left to the tender mercies of the mere
pretenders,--often not architects at all,--who have no knowledge of, or
reverence for, the treasures committed to their unworthy hands; and who
have done and are doing their best to rob our country of one of its
richest inheritances--its genuine and indigenous architecture.

Nor is this the only drawback to the Gothic revival.

It suffers also from a degree of capriciousness even among its abler and
more art-loving followers, who, jealous, perhaps, or contemptuous of
others, refuse to co-operate in any steady purpose, and who, morbidly
keen in their perceptions of beauty, are apt to follow momentary
fancies--now favouring one type, and now another, and, perhaps, reviving
styles little allied to their purpose, as if the object of the age were
to revive just for revival’s sake, rather than to gather in these
extraneous beauties to enrich the resources and to widen the
capabilities of one received style. This tendency seems to threaten the
noble movement with premature decay, though I do trust that there remain
earnestness and steadiness of heart enough to avert this danger, and to
guide these artistic strivings into a healthy channel, and cause them to
add new life to the general movement.

It is, in truth, as yet unsettled whether we should concentrate our
revival on one phase of the old style, or whether, as the ancients did
with their orders, we should use them _ad libitum_. The one seems
somewhat artificial, the other somewhat too eclectic; but _solvitur
ambulando_, and perhaps this discursiveness I have been regretting may
promote that solution.

I have found, as I went on, that the scheme of my lecture was much too
extensive for the time at my command. I had intended to say something of
the application of the sister arts to architecture, as well as on the
subordinate and allied arts. I must omit this; nor do I much regret it,
as I trust I shall be succeeded by men better qualified to deal with the
subject.

I will close my lecture,--itself the last of my long but disjected
series,--with a few words of advice to architectural students.

First of all, I would repeat what I once heard from that accomplished
artist who formerly graced this chair,--Professor Cockerell,--that the
first rule for success in art is the same which the wise man laid down
with reference to morals, “Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of
it are the issues of life.” If the inmost heart of the student is purely
and earnestly devoted, with generous ardour and enthusiasm, to his work,
you may make pretty sure of his success; but if he follows it up in a
cold perfunctory spirit; from a sense of duty or self-interest rather
than of earnest love; whatever may be his success in a merely
professional point of view, he will never do any good in a higher and
an artistic sense. The first thing, then, to encourage is a loving zeal
for the art you have chosen.

The next aim is self-culture, and that of a twofold kind--the
cultivation at once of an intimate knowledge of the form of art which
you select as your groundwork, and of a personal artistic power to work
in it.

In these days of miscellaneous distraction, it is difficult to give
advice as to the choice of a groundwork of study. Having no actual style
belonging to our age, you must choose between the two Renaissances,--the
Classic and the Gothic,--as best you may.

It was my own lot, arising from the period at which I commenced, to have
been trained in one (at its deadest period), and to have, from the love
of it, trained myself in the other; but I will suppose, for simplicity’s
sake, a single and simple choice. Nor is it for me to dictate, were it
in my power to do so, what that choice should be.

What I have to say is that, your choice being made, you must study with
all diligence, and with the most assiduous attention, the best and
purest examples of the style you have chosen; making yourself thoroughly
acquainted with it from its very root to its minutest details, and using
every endeavour to catch the true artistic spirit of the style in its
best phases.

If Classic architecture (whether antique or as revived) be your aim, you
are at some disadvantage from not having within your reach its most
authentic examples. Books and the works of our own best architects must
supply the need till you have opportunity to study it in its native
land.

If Gothic architecture is that on which your loving choice has fallen,
you are more happily situated. Then you are not studying an imported
art, but that of your own country; you have not to travel widely from
home to study its noblest productions, for they are at your very doors;
you have not to go through a long course of book-study, treating of
examples of art which you have no means of seeing and studying with your
own eyes; but, though not rejecting books, you may go from them to the
originals and judge of them for yourselves. Even if kept pretty closely
in London or its vicinity, you do not want opportunity for the study
from its noblest productions of the art of your choice. The glorious
fane of St. Peter at Westminster supplies an inexhaustible fund for
study, while the history of Mediæval art may be followed up by the aid
of such examples as the Chapel in the Tower, St. Bartholemew’s Priory
Church, the Temple Church, St. Saviour’s, Westminster Hall, Crosby and
Eltham Halls, and other minor examples; while an hour’s run will take
you to the stupendous church of England’s proto-martyr, which equals its
sister abbey as a fund of artistic study and information. The advice,
then, I give to the student of Mediæval art is, lose no opportunity of
studying and carefully sketching from old examples, wherever they may be
found; nor, I would add, should you neglect the aid afforded by
collections of objects of study such as our museums contain;[72] but
study not only the mere facts, but the spirit and sentiment of the style
you are learning.

This, however, alone is but the skeleton. You must clothe it with
muscles, and breathe into it the breath of life, by the direct culture
of your own individual artistic powers. Make yourselves artists,--not so
much artists in the lower sense of being able to make your ideas look
well on paper, as in the incomparably more important sense of making
your works really noble works of art in reality and in execution. It is
of very little importance to any but yourselves whether your drawings
look well; but it is of infinite importance that your works, when
carried out, should be really worthy of admiration, and should produce
the impression on the mind which they ought to produce.

Make yourselves, then, artists, not alone in respect of mere
architecture itself, but in respect also of its allied arts; in respect
of architectural sculpture, in respect of painted decoration, in respect
of figure sculpture and of figure-painting in forms suited to
architecture; of painted glass, mosaic work, metal work, and all the
subordinate arts. I do not say that you should really practise these
arts yourselves, but by training yourselves in them you will become
fitted to direct, guide, and check those whom you employ, or who are
made your art colleagues.

Few, indeed, of us have as yet come up to this standard,--very few have
even approached it. I address you as the rising generation of
architects, and urge you to do what your immediate predecessors have,
for the most part, failed of having the means of doing. Let your new
generation go far beyond its predecessor. It is not for us moderns to be
content with a standard of our own degenerate age. To “measure
ourselves _by_ ourselves, and to compare ourselves _with_ ourselves,” is
never the part of wisdom. Set, rather, before yourselves a standard of
glorious days of old; and, remembering always the right noble _Catæna
Patrum_, whose successors you hope to be, make it your first endeavour
to raise yourselves to a level worthy of your parentage, and then to
press ardently onwards, if Providence shall permit, to ever new and
higher attainments.




INDEX.


Abacus, circular, i. 113, 247;
  square, 121, 126, 143, 144, 303;
  plan of, 155;
  comparative merits of round and square, 156, 158;
  cruciform, 226;
  in French work, 247, 354;
  in Norman work, ii. 78, 85;
  square, round, octagonal, 78;
  of the Corinthian capital, 94, 140.

Abbots’ houses in early Irish remains, ii. 19.

Abstract beauty, i. 17.

Abutment of the round arch, i. 233.

Academy, Royal, i. 339;
  library, 315;
  students, 357.

Acanthus, Greek and Roman, i. 81;
  the Greek type largely used in French transitional work, 82, 100; ii. 131.

Additions to old churches, i. 364.

Ædnoth, the architect of Romsey Abbey in the time of Dunstan, ii. 33.

Agamemnon, tomb of, at Mycenæ, ii. 230, 231, 300.

Aidan, ancient diocese of, ii. 130.

Aidan, St., missionary from Iona, ii. 30.

Ainay, near Lyons, domical church at, ii. 276.

Aisles, walls of, strengthened to resist thrust of vaulting, i. 53;
  apsidal, ii. 93, 110, 162, 165, 183, 203.

Aix-la-Chapelle, treasuries at, i. 328;
  Charlemagne’s church, ii. 260, 276.

Alaric, invasion of, ii. 13.

Alban, St., shrine of, i. 187; ii. 95, 100.

Alban’s, St., Cathedral, i. 31, 184, 314;
  ii. 94, 118, 122;
  western portals, i. 126, 144, 167;
  shrine of the proto-martyr, 187;
  ii. 95, 100.
  Trumpington’s work, i. 286;
  eastern parts of, 286, 343;
  Roman brick, ii. 75;
  piers, 78;
  transepts, aisles of, 90;
  plan, 96, 115;
  choir, 101;
  tower, 103;
  Abbot Paul’s work, 104;
  central tower, 107, 118, 135.

Alexandria, ii. 264.

Alfred, King, ii. 32, 58, 59.

Alphege, ii. 59.

Altar-coverings, i. 329.

Altenburg cloisters, i. 129.

Amiens Cathedral, i. 18, 95, 129, 141, 174, 326;
  façade, 165;
  western portals, 258.

Amphibalus, St., shrine of, i. 185.

Andernach, western façade, i. 129, 140.

Angels, carved in arch mouldings, i. 80;
  in spandrils of transepts, Westminster Abbey, 312.

Angevine, district of, i. 326.

Angles invaded Britain, ii. 9.

Anglo-Saxon, characteristics of, ii. 14, 36, 46, 134, 298;
  details of early Irish remains compared with, 22;
  churches, plans of, 38;
  pillars, columns, etc., 39;
  towers at Brixworth, 40;
  church at Bradford, Wilts, 46;
  chancel, Jarrow-on-the-Tyne, 36, 47;
  church at Worth, 44;
  church at Dover, 41;
  churches, Monk Wearmouth and Deerhurst, 36;
  church at Stow, 50;
  bell-towers, 52;
  crosses, 57;
  duration of, and classification into divisions, 58;
  post-conquestal, 59, 72;
  doorways compared with Norman, 76;
  Gloucester, 121.

Angoulême, domical architecture, i. 99;
  ii. 274, 275.

Angoumois, domical churches, i. 76.

Anjou, i. 75.

Annulus, in vaulting, i. 57.

Antiquarianism, i. 334, 345.

Antiquaries, their works, i. 27.

Apostles, church of the, at Constantinople, ii. 249, 264-266.

Apse, in early British churches, ii. 20;
  at Winchester, 34;
  Worth church, 45;
  Jarrow-on-the-Tyne, 47;
  in Norman, 89;
  at Caen, 96;
  groining to an, 172, 183;
  at Westminster, 205.

Apsidal termination, unknown in the early churches of Ireland, ii. 17;
  to Lanfranc’s Cathedral at Canterbury, 28, 29;
  at Brixworth, 32, 40;
  at Wing, 51;
  chapel, Tower of London, 93, 162, 277;
  St. Alban’s, 96, 118;
  Ely, 110, 113;
  Norwich, 118;
  Gloucester, 122.

Aqueducts, Roman, ii. 73, 138.

Aquitaine, churches of, i. 152, 337;
  ii. 276.

Arcades, miniature, in parapets, i. 258;
  ii. 139, 140.

Arch, transitional mouldings, i. 125;
  ribs, 53, 146;
  outward pressure of round, 233;
  system of mouldings, 248;
  orders, tracery of windows always viewed as, 284.

Arch decoration, Romanesque, i. 225;
  ii. 76, 120, 139, 141.

Archæological portions of our studies, i. 335.

Archaic art, ii. 4.

Arched construction, i. 45, 46, 47;
  ii. 177.

Arches, i. 19;
  subordination of, 48;
  ii. 75, 78, 303, 305;
  semicircular or segmental, i. 49, 244;
  in rims or orders, 224;
  of windows, their filling in, 253;
  suggest a higher pitch of roof than trabeated construction, 255;
  as to form, 354;
  to windows in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 37;
  in form rather than construction, 52;
  most obvious form of, 73, 178;
  development of, 74, 136;
  decoration by mouldings, etc., 76, 120, 139, 141;
  orders of, 76, 78, 86, 142, 143, 146, 151;
  semicircular, 178, 179;
  semi-elliptical, 179;
  introduced by the Romans into their architecture, 303, 305.

Architects, English, duties of, i. 352;
  Royal Institute of British, 364;
  ii. 66;
  to direct their primary attention to the study of English architecture, 3;
  past history of our art essential to, 295.

Architecture, love for, i. 1;
  native, 2;
  study of, 2, 16;
  ii. 295, 322-326;
  latest original style of, i. 6;
  of the Western Empire, 12;
  of the Eastern Empire, ii. 4, 6, 7;
  new phase of, under Rollo, i. 44;
  purely arcuated, 47;
  secular, of Italian cities, 206;
  rationale of, 271;
  conditions to be demanded of our future, 273;
  unites all arts in one, 340;
  necessity to master the whole range of, 341;
  development in, 361;
  early, in Great Britain, ii. i;
  French, 2;
  English, 3;
  two great divisions of mediæval, 5;
  Anglo-Saxon, 36;
  early Norman, 58;
  at the close of the 11th century, 134;
  differs in its origin from the sister arts of sculpture and painting, 291;
  definition of, as distinguished from mere building, 292;
  history of, reserved for our own age, 293.

Architraves, i. 46, 227.

Archivolts, transitional, i. 124.

Arcs doubleaux, i. 56;
  ii. 182.

Arcs ogives, or diagonal ribs, ii. 182.

Arcuated architecture, i. 18, 47, 72, 274;
  ii. 5;
  system of, 6, 73, 136, 138, 303, 306, 308.

Ardoilen, island of, ii. 20.

Argos, ii. 300.

Arles, cloisters at St. Trophimus, i. 99, 229.

Arnolpho, architect of the cathedral at Florence, ii. 279, 280.

Arran, island of, ii. 15.

Arris vaulting, of the Roman and Romanesque builders, i. 238;
  substitution of the rib for, 239.

Art, its growth, i. 4, 143;
  primitive, 5;
  under the later Pagan emperors, 10;
  study of, 27;
  its reawakening in the 10th century, 38;
  ancient, 142;
  decoration, ii. 60;
  of architecture, 61.

Art workmen, i. 25.

Arthur, King, ii. 14.

Artists, training as, i. 339;
  ii. 325.

Assisi, church of St. Francis at, i. 134.

Assyria, art of, i. 5, 13;
  ii. 298.

Assyrian sculptures, ii. 230;
  structures, 304.

Athelstan, ii. 59.

Athelwold, Bishop of Winchester, ii. 33, 104.

Athens, churches at, ii. 257;
  St. Nicodemus at, 258.

Atreus, treasury of, or the tomb of Agamemnon at Mycenæ, ii. 300.

Atridæ, days of the, ii. 300.

Attic base, i. 150.

Augustan age, i. 10, 142.

Augustine, St., ii. 26, 32, 58;
  founder
of the church of St. Martin, Canterbury, 27, 65.

Augustus, reign of, ii. 231.

Aungre, ii. 55.

Autun, Romanesque vaults of, i. 63.

Auvergne, coloured stones in the buildings at, i. 277;
  domical churches of, ii. 94, 276.

Auxerre, i. 326;
  Lady Chapel, ii. 197.

Aveline, tomb of Countess, i. 180, 184, 311.

Avignon, Nôtre Dame des Dons, church of, ii. 276.


B

Baalbec, i. 220.

Babylon, architecture of, ii. 298.

Baiæ, piscina at, ii. 156.

Ball-flowers, i. 248.

Baluster columns, ii. 37, 38, 41, 46;
  of Caen stone at Dover, 43, 102;
  at Jarrow, 47, 102;
  at Monk Wearmouth, 49, 143;
  sculptured on a stone in miniature at Jarrow, 50;
  mid-wall at St. Benet’s, Cambridge, 52;
  at Trinity Church, Colchester, 52;
  St. Alban’s, 102;
  Worcester, 123.

Bamberg, cathedral at, i. 43.

Baptistery at Nocera, ii. 238;
  Ravenna, 238, 239, 249, 259;
  Florence, 262, 280;
  Parma, 260, 263.

Barfreston, windows at, i. 161.

Barnach Tower, ii. 53.

Barns, thirteenth century, i. 203;
  mediæval, 262.

Barrel vaults, i. 49, 51;
  ii. 153, 170, 214, 247;
  converted into groined vaults, i. 55;
  main arches of, changed to pointed arches, 58;
  half-barrel vaults, St. Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 67;
  twin or parallel, 154.

Bartholomew’s, St., Priory Church, Smithfield, i. 313;
  ii, 324.

Barton-upon-Humber, ii. 53;
  western porch, 24, 53.

Barton, Earl’s, tower, ii. 52.

Base mouldings, sections of, i. 150;
  of buildings, 164, 249;
  to piers, ii. 80;
  of a wall, 84;
  Norman, 85.

Bases, i. 146, 150.

Basilica, Christianised Roman, i. 39, 51, 337;
  converted into a vaulted structure, 71;
  Roman, 48;
  windows of, 54;
  St. Peter’s, Rome, ii. 28, 29;
  secular, 20;
  at Ripon, built by St. Wilfrid, 32.

Basilica Jovis, i. 338.

Basilican style, i. 41;
  early, in southern Italy, 337.

Bath Abbey, ii. 220.

Battle Abbey, gateway at, i. 343.

Battle Abbey, roll of, ii. 124.

Bay-windows, i. 265.

Bays, oblong, i. 57, 62;
  square, ii. 163, 177, 205.

Beaudon, Bishop, i. 88.

Beauvais, old church at, i. 41, 129, 326;
  basse-œuvres, ii. 12.

Beddington Hall, i. 314.

Bede’s description of early Irish remains, ii. 13, 21, 30, 59.

Belfries, windows of, i. 161;
  towers of, 258.

Bell-towers, i. 147;
  Anglo-Saxon, ii. 52.

Benedictine order, ii. 33, 58.

Benet’s, St., Cambridge, bell-tower, ii. 52.

Beni Hassan, rock-cut tombs at, ii. 298.

Bernasconi, i. 189.

Bernay, Duchess Judith’s church at, ii. 14;
  abbey church at, 65.

Bernward, Bishop, i. 43.

Bertha, Queen, ii. 27.

Beverley Minster, i. 200.

Birinus, St., ii. 33, 104.

Biscop, Benedict, works of, ii. 30, 48.

Blois, St. Nicolas at, i. 196.

Blois, Henry de, brother to King Stephen, founder of
    St. Cross, near Winchester, i. 111, 120.

Bloxam’s “Principles of Gothic Architecture,” ii. 56.

Bonnet-arched windows, i. 278;
  ii. 37, 54.

Books, how to be studied from, i. 334;
  historical knowledge from, 334.

Bosses, ii. 177, 194;
  in England, 195, 210.

Boss-stones having the plan of the intersecting ribs drawn on them, ii. 212.

Bouet, M., of Caen, history of St. Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 64.

Bourges Cathedral, i. 18, 93, 141;
  enclosing arches at, 161;
  vaulting to the apsidal aisle, ii. 203.

Boxgrove Priory, i. 202.

Bradford, Wilts, church at, ii. 46.

Bramante, ii. 280.

Brass-work, i. 20, 22, 345.

Brecon Priory, choir of chancel and windows in, i. 286.

Brick, use of, i. 20;
  houses, 21;
  architecture of the north, 328.

Bridlington Priory, transitional capital from, i. 122;
  cloisters at, 230.

Britain, prehistoric, ii. 3.

British, ancient, churches, ii. 18;
  square ended churches, _ibid._

Britton’s “Antiquities,” ii. 56.

Brixworth Church, ii. 19, 32, 36, 39, 58;
  towers at, 40.

Broughton Church, Oxfordshire, i. 283.

Bruges, market halls at, i. 266.

Brunelleschi, ii. 280.

Brunswick, timber street fronts at, i. 21;
  treasuries at, 328.

Buddhist architecture, i. 8.

Buildwas Abbey, i. 105.

Burges, Mr., on metal work, i. 345.

Burgh, Norfolk, chancel of, i. 279.

Bury St. Edmund’s, i. 343;
  ii. 54, 112, 114, 121.

Buttress, i. 19, 64, 147, 236, 256, 258;
  pilaster-like, 49;
  arched, 53;
  flying, 59;
  continuous arched, 53;
  angle, Norwich, ii. 118.

Byzantine architecture, i. 336;
  earliest Christian style, 10, 11, 39;
  ii. 306, 308;
  decoration of, i. 49;
  pointed arch used in, 66;
  as practised in Syria, 337;
  ii. 306;
  manner of building in, 5, 6, 7;
  domes, 188, 245, 258, 260, 288;
  early buildings in, 305, 306;
  at Perigueux, 271.

Byzantine foliage, i. 321; ii. 7;
  route by which it may have reached the north of France, i. 82;
  carving in north-west portal of Lincoln Cathedral, 85;
  carving at St. Denis, 98;
  capitals, 145;
  architecture, 336;
  domes, ii. 188, 245-258, 260, 288;
  introduced by way of Ravenna into Venice, 261;
  details of, 260;
  at St. Front, Perigueux, 271.

Byzantines, Corinthian capitals foreshadowed in works of the, i. 133.

Byzantinesque foliage, i. 320.


C

Cadwallader, ii. 14.

Caen, St. Stephen’s, ii. 64, 92, 94;
  gallery across transepts, 66;
  apsidal chapel at the triforium level, _ibid._;
  western towers, _ibid._;
  piers, _ibid._;
  nave vaulting, 67;
  bases, 72;
  plan, 96;
  transepts doubly aisled, 105;
  capitals, 120;
  crypt, 157.

Cambridge, Jesus Chapel, i. 189;
  belltower of St. Benet’s, ii. 52;
  King’s College, 219, 311.

Campanile, i. 20;
  freedom in use of the, 274.

Canterbury, St. Augustine’s Abbey, i. 276, 308;
  gateway, 343;
  church of St. Martin, ii. 27, 65;
  church of St. John the Baptist, 27, 29;
  two columns brought from Reculver at, 39.

Canterbury Cathedral, ii. 27;
  early vaulting, i. 62;
  work of William of Sens, 85, 308;
  Trinity Chapel, 94, 112, 114;
  French work, 103;
  choir, 112;
  cloisters, 139;
  crypt under Trinity Chapel, 155, 157;
  early Norman of Lanfranc, later Norman of Conrad, 307;
  work of William the Englishman, 308;
  Peckham’s tomb, St. Anselm’s Chapel, 276, 308;
  Cathedral modelled on the basilica of St. Peter’s at Rome, ii. 28;
  altar to St. Mary, _ibid._;
  Chapel of the Virgin, _ibid._;
  crypt, 29, 65, 158;
  rebuilding by Lanfranc, 65, 67, 92, 104;
  use of the pointed arch in the vaulting of the wider spans, 181;
  Norman chevron in the ribs of the aisle vaulting, 194.

Canute, ii. 34, 58;
  Northmen in the days of, 63;
  revived impulse in architecture under, _ibid._

Capitals, at St. Denis, i. 7, 9, 98;
  at Nôtre Dame, 100;
  from apse at St. Leu, near Creil, 101;
  “à crochet,” 102, 103, 114;
  Norman cushion, 117;
  ii. 94, 120, 130;
  water-leaf form, i. 120;
  varied patterns of, 232;
  Corinthianesque, 80, 152;
  at St. Mark’s, Venice, 82;
  Coliseum, _ibid._;
  St. Front, Perigueux, 83;
  column of Marcion, Constantinople, 84;
  St. Germain des Près, 85, 92;
  north-west portal of Lincoln Cathedral, 85;
  Chartres, 87;
  Noyon, 88, 102;
  Sens, 97, 102;
  Sainte Chapelle, 103;
  St. Remi, Rheims, _ibid._;
  Oakham Castle, 114;
  characteristic differences between French and English 13th century, 155;
  moulded unfoliated, 157;
  pilaster, 224;
  ii. 140;
  impost added to Corinthian, i. 227;
  ii. 141;
  Norman, 78;
  carving of, resembling Greek foliage, 131;
  in orders, 78;
  primary idea of, 84;
  in the Confessor’s buildings at Westminster, and crypt at Winchester, 85;
  St. Etienne, Caen, 64;
  Lincoln, _ibid._;
  as imposts, Carileph, St., ii. 125.

Carlisle Cathedral, choir aisles, i. 286.

Carlovingian monarchs, i. 45.

Carnarvon Castle, i. 21.

Carpentry, modern, respecting roofs, i. 255.

Cartmel church, i. 122.

Carving in French churches from early in the 12th century
    to the end of the 13th century, i. 80, 100, 323.

Cashel, St. Cormac’s chapel, ii. 23.

Castles, i. 21, 147.

Cathedrals, English and French, 13th century, compared, i. 167.

Ceilings, i. 265;
  level, ii. 136.

Cella, John de, i. 184.

Cella, William de, i. 126.

Cells, early Irish, ii. 14, 19.

Celtic tribes, ii. 5;
  inhabitants of Ireland and Scotland, 60.

Chancel arches in early Irish remains, ii. 22;
  in Anglo-Saxon, 38, 41, 45, 54;
  in Norman, 89.

Charlemagne, i. 39, 140;
  his efforts to revive art, 40, 42;
  ii. 305.

Charles the Great, ii. 261.

Chartres Cathedral, i. 18, 325;
  portals and west front, 77, 80, 86, 93, 166;
  enclosing arches in the aisles, 161;
  sculpture, ii. 313.

Chechil Minar, columns of the, ii. 299.

Chester Cathedral, chapter-house, ii. 210;
  Lady Chapel, _ibid._

Chichester Cathedral, i.   120, 308;
  ii. 123;
  Lady Chapel, i. 276, 343;
  side chapels of nave, 354.

Christchurch, Hants, ii. 108, 130;
  window from north transept, i. 283;
  triforium and stair-turret to the north transept, ii. 131.

Christian, architecture, early, i. 8, 48;
  ii. 4;
  churches in Britain about the 5th century, 14.

Churches, old, affection for, i. 2;
  Christian, influence of, on our architecture, ii. 305.

Cills, i. 249.

Citè, La, church of, at Perigueux, ii. 273.

Civilisation, its growth, i. 4, 143;
  influence on architecture, 5;
  ii. 293, 296.

Clapham church, Bedfordshire, bonnet-headed windows, i. 278;
  ii. 54.

Clark, Dr. Edward Daniel, description of early Irish remains, ii. 15.

Classic, antiquity, appreciation of, i. 2, 3, 336;
  relinquishment of proportion, 49;
  form of capital in French transitional work, 81;
  mouldings, 249;
  modern mouldings, _ibid._;
  architecture, study of, 294;
  ii. 7;
  revived, the dome adopted by, 245, 288;
  capitals, 302.

Classification of mediæval styles, i. 138.

Clerestory windows, i. 57;
  elevation of, 58.

Clermont, Nôtre Dame du Pont, i. 91;
  ii. 89, 276.

Cloisters, St. Paul Without the Walls, and St. John Lateran, Rome, ii. 146.

Cluny, Hôtel, i. 324.

Cockerell, Professor, ii. 1, 322.

Coffered panels, ii. 138.

Colchester, Holy Trinity church, bonnet-headed windows, i. 278;
  ii. 52.

Coliseum, i. 18;
  capitals at, 82;
  galleries at, ii. 154, 156.

Cologne Cathedral, i. 18, 175.

Cologne, treasuries at, i. 328;
  St. Martin, St. Gereon, 129;
  St. Pantaleon’s church, 279;
  ii. 12, 25.

Colonnades, ii. 139.

Colonnettes, i. 49;
  ii. 143;
  at the mosque of Touloun, Cairo, 144;
  in Norman work, 146;
  their arrangement and development, 147-149;
  in vaulting, 156;
  suggested by diagonal ribs, 177.

Colouring, lessons in, i. 339.

Columba, St., ii. 16, 19.

Columns, i. 46, 49, 274;
  at Noyon, 102;
  differences between classic and Gothic, 148;
  clustered, 225;
  ii. 142-144;
  double, in arcades, i. 230;
  decorative and functional, 231;
  baluster, ii. 37, 38, 41, 43, 46, 47, 50, 52;
  decorative or shafts, 76, 77;
  in Norman work, 78, 79, 158;
  proportional to load rather than height, 83;
  purely decorative, 83;
  substituted for piers in arcades, 140, 146;
  detached at St. Mark’s, Venice, 144;
  marble, _ibid._

Complete Gothic, i. 347, 351.

Confessor,    Edward   the,   ii.   67;
  re-founder of the abbey of Westminster, 68;
  work of, Westminster, 108.

Conisborough Castle, i. 265.

Connemara, ii. 21.

Constantine, Emperor, churches in Britain prior to, ii. 20;
  St. Constantia, daughter of, 237, 238.

Constantinople, ii. 6;
  Byzantine domes of, 259;
  St. Sophia, 244, 246, 249,
253, 260, 264-266, 282;
  church of the Apostles, 249;
  church of the Holy Wisdom, 255;
  church of St. Irene, _ibid._

Constantinople, government and art removed to, i. 11.

Construction, decorating, i. 19;
  of timber roofs, 255, 345;
  to be learnedfrom old examples, 344;
  arcuated or trabeated, 274;
  fireproof, etc., 362;
  ii. 137.

Conventional foliage, i. 25, 355.

Corbels, sculptured, carrying diagonal ribs, ii. 177.

Corinthian, ii. 299;
  temples, 302.

Corinthian capital, foreshadowed in works of the Egyptians, i. 133;
  ii. 298;
  reminiscences of, in Norman, 85, 94;
  in early arched styles, 140;
  with an added impost, 141;
  latest type of, in Grecian architecture, 298.

Corinthianesque, type of foliage in Romanesque, i. 77;
  capitals from St. Denis, 79;
  carving, 80, 84;
  capitals, 132.

Cormac, St., at Cashel, chapel of, ii. 23.

Cornices, i. 165, 256.

Cornwall, ii. 13.

Corona at Hildesheim, i. 43.

Corridors in early vaulting, ii. 154, 155.

Couchaud’s “Byzantine Churches in Greece,” ii. 258.

Coucy, Château de, i. 326.

Coutance, i. 141.

Coventry, timber street fronts, i. 21.

Creil, St. Evremont, i. 97, 326.

Crockets, i. 153.

Crosby Hall, tracery, i. 277;
  oriel, ii. 213.

Cross, St., near Winchester, i. 111, 308;
  round-topped windows used with the pointed arch in aisle vaulting, 66;
  ii. 181;
  triforium, i. 120;
  compared with Sens, 125;
  moulded vaulting ribs, ii. 194.

Crosses, Irish, ii. 22, 25, 26;
  Anglo-Saxon, 57.

Crouchback, tomb of, i. 140, 311.

Crowland Abbey, i. 194.

Croydon Palace, i. 314.

Croyland, ii. 33.

Crusaders, i. 142;
  buildings in the East, ii. 7.

Crusades, i. 67, 204.

Crypt, at St. Denis, i. 80, 91;
  at Trinity Chapel, Canterbury, 155, 157;
  overground at St. Etheldreda’s, Holborn, 182;
  at Canterbury, ii. 29, 65, 158;
  York, 29;
  Lastingham, 30, 51;
  Hexham, 31;
  Ripon, 32;
  Winchester, 34, 107;
  Brixworth, 40;
  Wing, 50;
  Repton, 51;
  Gloucester, 121;
  Worcester, 122;
  Caen, 157;
  Durham, 159;
  St. Stephen’s, Westminster, 197, 212;
  Glasgow, 200;
  Bourges, 203.

Cubicula or oratories at Brixworth, ii. 40.

Cuthbert, St., ii. 21, 28, 123.

Cyclopean walls, ii. 9.


D

Danes, ravages of, ii. 3,   26, 33, 50, 58.

Darlington Church, i. 107.

David’s, St., Cathedral, i. 116, 117;
  capitals, 118;
  pointed groining in the transitional work, ii. 181.

Decorated style, i. 343, 347.

Decoration, to subdivided arches, i. 48;
  a system of, 49;
  painted, 203, 361;
  constructive parts, sources of, 259;
  wall, 327;
  Italian, 353.

Deerhurst, remains of Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 36, 58.

Denis, St., i. 77, 88, 105, 319;
  eastern part rebuilt by Sugar, 78;
  apsidal chapels, 79;
  north transept, 80;
  compared with St. Germain des Près, 91;
  Byzantine carving, 98;
  crypt, 80.

Diagonal ribs a source of decoration, ii. 171.

Diocletian, Baths of, i. 52, 234, 273;
  persecution, ii. 95.

Doge’s palace, chapel of the;
  see St. Mark’s, Venice.

Dome, the, in the Eastern Empire, i. 47, 49;
  ii. 153, 168, 169, 171, 172, 174, 228-289;
  contemporary with our mediæval structures in neighbouring countries, 229;
  the earliest known assumes in section the pointed arch, 230;
  the great outward pressure requires abutment or ties of metal, 231;
  independent of a keystone, _ibid._;
  can be erected without the aid of centering, 232;
  any reasonable form of building may be covered by the, 240;
  development explained, _ibid._;
  segmental as well as semicircular in section, 241;
  pendentive, 242, 273;
  as a central point of Christian temples, 245;
  introduction of the, throughout Italy, thence to
   the south-west of France, 261;
  derived from purely Roman traditions, 261, 276;
  covered by lofty domical towers of timber surmounted
    by turrets at the apex, 265;
  introduction of pointed arches for its support, 267-269, 271;
  ceases to be Byzantine and becomes Gothic, 273;
  the _modern_ type of, 277-289;
  early, of northern Italy, 278;
  threefold structure of, at St. Paul’s, 285;
  artistic difficulty of making the same dome look well
    from within and without, 246, 286;
  constructive difficulty of balancing a steeple on the top of, _ibid._;
  scheme of plan for dome of St. Paul’s and St. Peter’s, 287;
  in Italy during the Middle Ages, 288.

Domed, architecture at Angoulême, i. 99;
  construction, ii. 6, 153;
  aisles at the Abbey Church, Bernay, 65.

“Domed-up” vaults, ii. 171, 187.

Domestic work, i. 340, 350.

Doorways, at Chartres, i. 87;
  at Jedburgh, 108;
  sculpture of, 147;
  French and English, 165;
  system of constructing, 228, 257;
  ii. 136, 149;
  in early Irish remains, 22;
  in round towers, 25;
  in Anglo-Saxon work, 37, 42, 43, 47, 48;
  in Norman work, 76, 77;
  in all good Gothic, 77, 142.

Dorchester Abbey, choir, i. 287.

Doric, ii, 299;
  race, 301;
  temples, 302;
  Grecian, some resemblance to the rock-cut tombs of Beni Hassan, 298.

Dormer windows, i. 265.

Dover, church on the Castle-hill, ii. 41;
  splayed windows, i. 278;
  ii. 42;
  doorways, _ibid._; tower and ancient Roman Pharos, 43;
  tower arches, _ibid._

Dover Castle, i. 114, 308.

Drawing, lessons in, i. 339.

Drip-stone, or label, i. 225, 249.

Dryburgh Abbey, i. 122, 249.

Dunstable Priory Church, i. 188.

Dunstan, St., ii. 33, 58.

Durham, refectory, Anglo-Saxon crosses found in, ii. 57;
  kitchen of the monastery, 203;
  castle at, 150.

Durham Cathedral, ii. 120, 124, 126-129, 135;
  galilee, i. 106;
  chapter-house, 107;
  chapel of the Nine Altars, 140, 201, 286;
  groining to the central space, ii. 88, 128;
  transept aisles, 89;
  coupled bays, 124;
  Carileph’s design, 126, 127;
  gabled roofing to the aisles, 129;
  crypt, 159.


E

Eadbald, the son of Ethelbert, ii. 44.

Eadmer, the writings of, ii. 27, 28.

Earls Barton tower, ii. 52, 58.

Early French windows, i. 159.

Early Pointed, fully developed, i. 139, 341, 346;
windows, fully developed, 159, 160;
cathedral bay, 243.

Eastbury House, i. 314.

Eastern civilisation, ii. 305;
  distinct from Western, 296;
  its probable course, _ibid._

Eastern Empire, arts of the, ii. 4, 6, 7;
  Byzantine domes in the, 258.

Eaves-courses at Worth Church, ii. 45.

Eddington, his work at Winchester, ii. 108.

Edgar, King, ii. 33.

Edmund, King of East Anglia, ii. 54.

Edwin, King of Northumbria, ii. 29.

Egypt, ruins of, i. 5;
  ii. 4;
  its architecture and arts, 296, 297;
  one of the earliest seats of mental culture, i. 4, 5;
  link in the history of architecture, 6;
  influence of religion on the architecture of, 9, 13.

Egyptian, construction, i. 219;
  bellshaped capitals, ii. 297;
  architecture, 304.

Egyptians, pointed arch foreshadowed in works of the, i. 66;
  germ of the Corinthian capital found in the works of the, 133.

Eleanor crosses, i. 140, 314.

Eleanor of Guienne, tomb of, ii. 275.

Eleanor, queen of Louis VII., i. 92.

Eleanor, Queen, tomb of, and iron grille over, i. 180, 311.

Eleventh century works in England, i. 40.

Elgin Cathedral, i. 201.

Elizabethan balusters, ii. 37.

Ellipse in vaulting, i. 241;
  ii. 163, 172.

Elphege, St., Bishop of Winchester, ii. 34, 104.

Eltham Hall, i. 31;
  ii. 324;
  tracery, i. 277, 314;
  oriel, ii. 213.

Ely   Cathedral, ii.   33,   108;
  western tower, erected by Bishop   Ridel, i. 111;
  galilee,   126,   127,   139,   144, 167, 189;
  ii. 151;
  east end windows, i. 160;
  eastern bays and front, 190;
  transepts, double aisles, ii. 89, 105, 110;
  Abbot Symeon’s work, 108;
  transept piers, 111;
  nave piers, _ibid._;
  triforium piers, 112;
  transept at the west end, _ibid._;
  central tower, _ibid._;
  vaulting of the presbytery, 209;
  lierne vaulting, 213.

Ely, monastery at, ii. 33.

Ely Place Chapel (St. Etheldreda’s), Holborn, i. 140, 181, 276, 287, 314.

Embroidery, i. 22, 34, 203, 329;
  ii. 21, 59, 60.

Enamel work, i. 20, 22, 34, 203, 271.

Enclosing arches, i. 161.

English style, ii. 134.

Englishman, William the, i. 112, 113, 155.

Engraving, seal, i. 204.

Entablature, portion of, retained between
    column and springing of arch, i. 227.

Epée, Guillaume Longue, i. 45.

Estrias, D’, work at Canterbury, i. 276.

Ethelred and Emma, parents of King Edward the Confessor, ii. 67, 114.

Etheldreda, St., Ely Place, Holborn, chapel of, i. 140, 181, 276, 287, 314.

Etruria,   buildings   of   ancient,   ii.   9;
  walls of, 301.

Euphrates, banks of the, part source of our civilisation and art, ii. 296.

Eustacious, Bishop, i. 127.

Evremont, St., at Creil, i. 97.

Exeter Cathedral, Decorated work at, i. 289.


F

Fan-vaulting, square on plan, ii. 217;
  oblong on plan, 219;
  King’s College Chapel, _ibid._;
  cloisters, Gloucester, _ibid._;
  St. George’s, Windsor, 220;
  Henry VII.’s chapel,   Westminster, 220, 222;
  Sherborne Minster, Bath Abbey,    220;
  Christ   Church,   Oxford, 221;
  construction of, compared with the earliest specimens of vaulting, _ibid._

Farne, island of, ii. 21.

Fechin, St., monastery in the island of Ardoilen, ii. 20.

Fergusson, Mr., definition of the Norman style, etc., ii. 73;
  as to date of the Pantheon, 231;
  on the dome, 268.

Ferrers, Walkelin de, i. 114, 120.

Ferry, Mr., in reference to Christchurch, ii. 130.

Fifteenth century, i. 64.

Figure sculpture, i. 22, 50;
  ii. 312;
  Westminster Abbey, i. 177;
  Chartres, 325;
  ii. 312;
  Greek, 301.

Fillets or keels to edges of mouldings, ii. 148.

Finan, ancient diocese of, ii. 130.

Finan, St., missionary from Iona, ii. 30.

Fireplace, the, i. 265.

First Pointed, i. 247.

Flambard, Ralph, Bishop of Durham, ii. 126-130;
  his church at Christchurch, Hants, 130.

Flanders, town-halls of, i. 21, 260.

Flint, use of, i. 20;
  and stone structures of the eastern counties, 270.

Flixton, Suffolk, tower at, ii. 53.

Florence, baptistery at, ii. 261, 262, 280.

Florence, cathedral at, ii. 248, 297, 281, 282, 284.

Foliated bands, i. 165, 248.

Foliated sculpture, i. 25, 50, 323;
  at Nôtre Dame, 100;
  natural and conventional, 153;
  Westminster Abbey, 177;
  stalks of, in capitals in reference to ribs, 247.

Fontevrault, Abbey of, ii. 275.

Foreign travel, i. 345;
  architecture, study of, 316.

Formerets, or wall-ribs, ii. 182.

Fortifications, Gothic, i. 260.

Fosca, Santa, Torcello, church of, ii. 266.

Fountains Abbey, nave, i. 104, 106.

Four-leaved flowers, i. 248.

Fourteenth century, i. 6;
  system of vaulting churches, 64;
  close of the first quarter in France, 323.

Frampton tower and spire, i. 194.

France, foreign study to commence with, i. 33;
  ii. 3;
  the great centre of mediæval art, i. 33;
  early work in north, 41; transition in, 70, 73;
  13th century domestic architecture in, 206;
  modern houses in, 259;
  architects of, 353;
  introduction of domical architecture into, ii. 7;
  12th century work in, 8;
  A.D. 1000 in, 62;
  Romanesque of, 63;
  central, development in, 74, 83;
  domical structures of, 288.

Francis, St., church of, Assisi, i. 134.

Frankish kings, i. 42;
  monarchy, 45.

Frederick, Abbot, ii. 59.

Freeman, Mr., ii. 5, 57, 59, 245, 300;
  on Gothic architecture, 312, 313.

French, work in England, i. 113;
  work of the 12th and 13th centuries, 247, 349;
  architecture, study of, 317.

Fresco-painting, i. 213, 271.

Frond, St., at Perigueux, see St. Front.

Front, St., at Perigueux, i. 82, 83;
  ii. 271-273, 278.

Functional plane of windows, ii. 152.

Furness Abbey, i.   122;
  capital,   123;
  13th century choir, etc., 140, 200.


G

Gall, St., monastery of, ii. 28.

Galla Placidia, tomb of, at Ravenna, ii. 242, 259.

Galilee at Ely, i.   126, 127, 139, 144, 167;
  ii. 151;
  at Durham, i. 106.

Galleries over aisles, i. 54, 56;
  ii. 88.

Gallerus, St., oratory of, ii. 16.

Gates at   St.   Michael’s,    Hildesheim, i. 43.

Gelnhaussen Church, i. 129.

Geneva Cathedral, i. 97.

Genoa Cathedral, ii. 147.

Geometrical system of window tracery at
    Westminster Abbey, Newstead Abbey, and the “Angel Choir” at Lincoln, 276.

Gereon, St., Cologne, i. 129;
  cloisters at, _ibid._

Germain des Près, St., i. 62, 319;
  triforium and clerestory, 118;
  choir and vaulting, 65, 92;
  western doorway, 87, 92;
  description of church, 91;
  sculpture and capitals, 92.

Germanic nations, i. 6;
  their consolidation under the first three Othos, 41.

Germany, i. 33, 41;
  architectural movements in, 44;
  the transition in, 70, 72, 328;
  early roofs in, 254;
  modern houses in, 259;
  halls and feudal castles of, 260;
  domestic brick architecture, 271;
  tour in, 327;
  Romanesque buildings of, ii. 7, 83;
  western apse common to early churches of, 28;
  early churches of, 36, 74;
  domical churches of, 276, 288;
  Romanesque of, Byzantine influence upon, 308.

Gilles, St., near Nismes, i. 99.

Glasgow Cathedral, i. 202;
  crypt under, 240;
  ii. 200-202.

Glass, painted, i.   22,   34,   203,   297, 357;
  in secular work, 361.

Glass-plane, i. 276.

Glastonbury, church at, probably the first
    erected in Great Britain, ii. 19.

Glastonbury, St. Joseph’s Chapel, i. 66, 114;
  ii. 181, 194, 311.

Glastonbury Abbey, i. 114, 117, 308.

Glazing, mode of, for spaces of moderate width, i. 252;
  iron-work supporting, 297.

Glendalough, St. Kevin at, abbots’ houses, ii. 19.

Gloucester Cathedral, ii. 121, 135;
  choir, i. 90;
  ii. 214;
  nave, i. 155;
  vaulting to the gallery over the aisles, ii. 88;
  apsidal chapels, 122;
  Lady Chapel, 215;
  cloisters, 219.

Goring Church, Oxfordshire, vaulting beneath the tower, ii. 170.

Gothic architecture, claims upon our study, i. 6, 16;
  abstract beauty of, 18;
  adaptability to varied climates and buildings, 20, 21;
  its freedom in ornamentation, 25;
  southern examples, 34;
  distinctive characteristics, 70;
  timber roofs, 255;
  developments founded upon practical considerations, 261;
  honesty of treatment in, 266;
  unites the conditions necessary for our future architecture, 274, 292;
  complete Gothic, 347, 351;
  study of old examples, 293;
  imaginary excursion for the study of, 295;
  study of, in London, 309;
  its revival, 346;
  arch-mouldings, ii. 142;
  revived, acceptance of the dome into, 288;
  details of, in its earliest phase rivalling those of Greece, 311;
  an absolutely new phase of art, 310;
  its development and progressive stages, 309-313;
  its study, 324-326.

Gothic, conquerors of Rome, i. 5;
  invasions, 47;
  Italian, 134.

Gothic Renaissance, the, Sir Gilbert Scott’s personal reminiscences, 317.

Goths, incursions of the, i. 11.

Gower Street, a specimen of the untutored house-builder, ii. 315.

Gradenæ surrounding domes, ii. 233, 235.

Grantham steeple, i. 194;
  vaulting beneath the tower, ii. 174.

Greece, civilisation and art of, i. 5, 6;
  influence of religion on the architecture of, 9, 13;
  windows of ancient, 250;
  trabeated style of, ii. 5, 137;
  buildings of ancient, 9, 299;
  special features in, for our study, 302, 303;
  architecture of, revived into our own country, 315.

Greek churches, domes of the later, ii. 257.

Greek, orders, as found in the early architecture of Rome, i. 45;
  element merely decorative during the later Roman period, 47;
  construction, 219;
  resemblance of Gothic mouldings to Greek, 249;
  Greek art the parent of Gothic sculpture, 336;
  sculpture, 356;
  vases, 360;
  remains, ii. 6;
  figure-sculpture, 301, 302.

Greensted, Essex, chapel at, ii. 56.

Greenwell, Canon, ii. 57.

Groined vaults, i. 49, 52, 56, 238, 327;
  ii. 79, 80, 87, 149, 155-160, 162, 172, 247;
  square, with semicircular arches, i. 240;
  with pointed arches, 241;
  ii. 180;
  oblong, i. 241;
  names of the parts of, ii. 182.

Groin-ribs, i. 59, 238.

Grostete, Bishop, of Lincoln, i. 196.

Gundulph, monk of the abbey of Bec, ii. 116.

Gurth, ii. 59.


H

Halberstadt, western façade, i. 129;
  treasury, 329.

Hamburg, church at, i. 99.

Hampton Court, i. 31, 314.

Harold’s, Earl, church at Waltham, ii. 68.

Harold, King, ii. 59, 124.

Headingham Keep, ii. 135.

Henry II., i. 92;
  tomb of, ii. 275.

Henry III., effigy of, i. 180.

Henry VII.’s chapel, Westminster Abbey, i. 312;
  ii. 220-227, 311.

Heptarchy, the, ii. 3.

Heraldry, study of, i. 335.

Hereford Cathedral, i. 202; ii. 123;
  capitals in eastern chapel, i. 118.

Hereward, ii. 59.

Hexham Abbey, i. 122, 201;
  ii. 31.

Hildesheim, schools of art and science at, i. 42;
  St. Michael’s, 43;
  ii. 100;
  treasuries at, i. 328.

Hindoo architecture, i. 8.

Holy Land, ii. 8.

Holyrood Chapel, i. 201.

Honorius, Emperor, ii. 13.

Hood-moulds, ii. 140.

Hôtel Dieu;
  see St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris.

Howden, cornices at, i. 165.

Hugh, Bishop, i. 126, 195, 196;
  work of, at Lincoln, 303.

Huns, incursions of, i. 11, 40.

Hythe church, i. 201.


I

Illuminated, manuscripts, i. 34, 43;
  ii. 21, 59;
  books, Saxon, 36;
  painting, 60, 308.

Imposts, i. 224;
  ii. 76, 77, 80, 84, 102, 156;
  added to Corinthian capitals, i. 227;
  moulded, ii. 139;
  to capitals, 140;
  to piers, 142.

Ina, ii. 59.

India, architecture of, i. 13.

Inlaying, i. 205.

Iona, monastery at, ii. 21;
  crosses, 26.

Ionic, ii. 299;
  temples, 302.

Ireland, ii. 12-14;
  early remains in, 14, 16;
  early churches of, 17, 20.

Irene, St., at Constantinople, ii. 255.

Irish crosses, ii. 22, 25, 26.

Iron-work, i. 20, 22;
  of west doors at Nôtre Dame, 322;
  study of, 345, 362.

Isabel of Angoulême, tomb of, 275.

Issoire, Nôtre Dame du Pont, Clermont, i. 91.

Italy, i. 33, 142;
  architecture in south, 48;
  street palaces of, 148, 205;
  early churches of, ii. 36;
  campaniles of, 38;
  lessons from, used by the Anglo-Saxons, 60;
  pendentive domes in, 245.

Ivory carving, i. 22, 34, 203.


J

Jambs, of windows, 251;
  of doorways in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 37, 42;
  of chancel arch at Worth, 38;
  monolith, at Monk Wearmouth, 48;
  receding orders of, 142;
  development of, 143, 150.

Jarrow, church at, ii. 30, 36, 47, 48;
  sculptured stone, representing a long row of balusters, 50;
  crosses, 57.

Jean, St., church of, Poictiers, ii. 12.

Jedburgh Abbey, i. 108, 117, 122.

Jerusalem, Temple area at, double and golden gates, ii. 243.

Jewelled covers of books, i. 329.

Jewellery, i. 22, 34, 203, 327, 345;
  ii. 21, 59, 60, 308.

John, St., the Baptist, i. 50.

John, St., the Evangelist, i. 50.

Joseph, St., of Arimathea, Glastonbury, i. 66, 114;
  ii. 181, 194.

Julien, St., le Pauvre, at Paris, i. 97, 320.

Jumièges, Church of St. Pierre, i. 45;
  chapter-house, ii. 63;
  Abbey Church, 65.

Jupiter, temple of, in Diocletian’s palace, Spalatro, ii. 237, 238.

Justinian, ii. 243, 248, 249, 259;
  and Theodora, 259.

Justus, Bishop, ii. 29, 116.


K

Karnac, Hall at, i. 18;
  ii. 252, 297, 298.

Keels to edges of mouldings, ii. 148.

Kells, St. Columba at, abbots’ houses, ii. 19.

Kelso Abbey, i. 122.

Kensington, South, Library of the Department of Art at, i. 315;
  museum, _ibid._

Ketton Tower, i. 194.

Kilda, St., island of, ii. 15.

King’s College, Cambridge, chapel of, ii. 219, 311.

Kirkdale Church, ii. 57.

Kirkham Abbey, i. 201, 286, 289.

Kirkstall Abbey, i. 105, 106.


L

Labels, as dripstones, i. 225;
  in Norman work, ii. 84.

Lambeth Palace, chapel at, 174;
  hall at, 314.

Lancaster, Edmund Earl of, tomb of, i. 180, 184.

Lanfranc, Church of St. John Baptist, Canterbury, rebuilt by, ii. 28;
  first abbot of St. Stephen’s at Caen and first
    metropolitan of England, 65, 92, 104, 116.

Laodicea, battle of, i. 92.

Laon Cathedral, i. 326; capital at, 102.

Lastingham, Yorkshire, church at, ii. 30.

Le Puy, domical church at, ii. 276.

Lead work, i. 345.

Leofwine, ii. 59.

Libraries, public, i. 34;
  in London, 315.

Lichfield Cathedral, i. 202;
  capitals in choir, 118;
  cornices, 165;
  nave, 343, 351;
  grouped colonettes at, ii. 148, 151;
  chapter-house, 203.

Liernes, or ridge-ribs, ii. 182, 211, 214, 215.

Limburg on the Lahn, church at, i. 129.

Lincoln, towers of two churches in the lower city, i. 302;
  Paulinus’s church at, ii. 30;
  St. Mary’s and St. Peter’s at Gowts, churches of, 72;
  castle at, _ibid._

Lincoln Cathedral, i. 18, 194, 286, 288;
  ii. 72;
  Byzantine carving in north-west portal, i. 85;
  choir and eastern transepts, 126, 139, 144;
  eastern windows, 163;
  south entrance to eastern part, 167;
  “Angel Choir,” 276;
  eastern arm, 343, 351;
  study of, 302;
  work of Remigius, 303;
  ii. 94;
  Easter sepulchre, i. 304;
  foliage, figure sculpture, and wood-carving, 306;
  wall-painting and stained glass, 307;
  capitals from, ii. 120;
  two chapels near the west end, 198;
  vaulting under central tower, 199;
  vaulting of the choir, 202.

Lindisfarne, groining to the central space, ii. 88, 129;
  bays at, 126.

Lindisfarne, island of, ii. 30.

Lindsey, bishops of, ii. 50.

Lintels, wooden, ii. 43.

Llandaff Cathedral, i. 202;
  west windows, 160.

Lombard cities, i. 21.

Lombardic traditions in Italian pointed architecture, i. 142.

Lombardy, architecture of, i. 40, 41, 45, 337;
  ii. 306;
  domestic brick architecture of, 271.

London, study of architecture in, i. 30;
  cathedral of, ii. 27, 29, 114, 280-289.

London, Tower of, chapel in the, i. 313;
  ii. 88, 93, 116, 120, 130, 135, 162, 324;
  apsidal aisle, 165, 183;
  semi-dome of apse, 277.

Long and short work, ii. 36, 44, 45, 49, 52.

Lorsch, church at, ii. 12.

Losinga, Bishop Herbert de, ii. 116.

Louis VII. of France, i. 92.

Louis, St., works of, i. 141.

Lubeck brick houses, i. 21.

Luc, St. d’Esserent, abbey church of, i. 326.

Lucy, Bishop de, i. 127, 128.

Luda, Bishop de, tomb of, i. 140, 184;
  chapel built by, 181.

Lyminge, church at, ii. 44 (_footnote_).

Lyons Cathedral, i. 98.

Lysicrates, Choragic monument to, i. 81;
  ii. 7.


M

Magdeburg, east end, i. 129.

Mahometan, architecture, i. 8, 337;
  invasions, 11;
  ii. 7;
  conquest of Syria,
  i. 336;
  styles, ii. 8;
  domical structures, 268, 277, 288.

Maine, i. 75.

Malcolm, King of Scotland, ii. 125.

Malling, Keep of St. Leonard’s, near, ii. 116.

Malmesbury, William of, account of King Edward’s
    church at Westminster, ii. 68, 115.

Malmesbury Abbey, doorways at, ii. 149.

Malton, Old, church at, i. 109.

Manor-houses, i. 21.

Mans, Le, i. 141;
  tracery at, 162, 326.

Manuscripts, illuminated, i. 203, 327.

Marathon, plain of, ii. 22.

Marbles, Italian, i. 142.

Marburg, treasuries at, i. 329.

Margaret, Queen of Malcolm, King of Scotland, ii. 125.

Mark, St., ii. 264.

Mark’s, St., Venice, i. 44, 82, 180, 337;
  ii. 144, 257, 264, 271, 273, 278, 285, 306.

Martin’s, St., in the Fields, London, Welsh groins, ii. 173.

Martin’s, St., Cologne, i. 120.

Martin, St., church of, at Canterbury, founded by St. Augustine, ii. 27, 65;
  gallery across transepts, 66;
  apsidal chapel, _ibid._

Mary’s, St., Abbey, York, i. 108, 140, 164, 200, 288;
  square abacus, 303, 343;
  ii. 147.

Mary’s, St., at Gowts, Lincoln, church of, ii. 72.

Maurice, Bishop, ii. 114.

Maxentius, basilica of, i. 52;
  ii. 282.

Mayence Cathedral, i. 43;
  ii. 144.

Mediæval, architecture, equally classic with
    the architecture, of the ancient world, i. 3;
  its study, 3, 34, 50;
  its claims, 4;
  the termination of the history of original
    and genuine architecture, 8;
  in France, Germany, and Italy, 33, 204;
  not produced by chance, 64;
  in Italy, 205;
  classification of styles, 138;
  art, ii. 7, 302;
  buildings, early and late, 297.

Mellitus, ii. 29;
  founder of St. Paul’s, London, 114.

Merlin, ii. 14.

Merton Chapel, Oxford, i. 287.

Mesopotamia, one of the earliest seats of mental culture, i. 5.

Metal work, i.   20,   22,   34,   43,   203, 271;
  ii. 308, 325.

Michael Angelo, ii. 280, 282, 283.

Middle Pointed, i. 347.

Middlesex, churches of, i. 315.

Minerva Medica, Temple of, ii. 234-236, 239, 246, 249, 259.

Modelling, lessons in, i. 339.

Monasteries, early, in Ireland, ii. 16, 20;
  of Iona, 21;
  of St. Gall, 28;
  at Peterborough, 32, 33.

Monks, domestic buildings of the, in early Irish remains, ii. 14.

Monk Wearmouth, western porch at, ii. 24;
  monastic church of, 30, 36;
  another church at, built by Benedict Biscop, 48;
  baluster shafts, 49, 144.

Monthron, near Angoulême, church at, ii. 276.

Montmartre, capitals at, i. 102, 319.

Mosaic, glass, i. 20, 43, 143, 271;
  Italian, at Westminster Abbey, 178, 313;
  in Italy, 205, 213;
  introduction of, into vaulting spaces, ii. 188;
  study of, 325;
  in Byzantine architecture, 262, 305.

Moulded, bands, i. 150;
  capitals,   157.

Mouldings, i. 26, 148;
  system of, 48, 248, 250;
  base, 150;
  enriched, 249;
  of the Gothic, Antique, and Romanesque builders, 249;
  in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 37;
  in Norman, 101;
  of arches, 139.

Moulds of bases of buildings, i. 164.

Mullions, i. 160, 163, 252.

Museums, i. 34, 315;
  Architectural Museum, 339;
  ii. 324.


N

Naitan, king of the Picts, ii. 30.

Nantwich Church, chancel of, ii. 212.

Natural foliage, i. 153, 355.

Needlework, i. 271.

Nesario and Celso, SS., little church of, at Ravenna, ii. 242, 243.

Nether Hall, i. 314.

Netley Abbey, east window, i. 163, 342.

Nevers, St. Stephen’s at, ii. 89.

Neuss, near Dusseldorf, church at, i. 129.

Neustria, Romanesque of, previous to the ravages of the Northmen, ii. 63.

Newark, fortress at, ii. 135.

Newcastle, fortress at, ii. 135.

Newstead Abbey, west front and carving, i. 199;
  tracery, 276;
  the study of, 343, 351.

Nicodemus, St., at Athens, ii. 266.

Nile, banks of the, part source of our civilisation and art, ii. 296, 298.

Nimèque, church at, ii. 276.

Nimroud, palace of, ii. 4.

Nocera, baptistery at, ii. 238.

Norfolk, domestic brick architecture of, i. 271;
  woodwork of, 300.

Norman, refined, with or without pointed arches, i. 106;
  ornaments, 113;
  cathedral increased in height in the ratio of one-third, 243;
  as a style, 347, 353;
  ii. 62, 73, 74, 82;
  _pre_-Norman English churches, 19, 26, 35;
  period in Irish work, 22, 23;
  earlier, in England, 58;
  _pre_-conquestal, 3, 59, 72-89;
  _pre_-Norman sculpture, 60;
  originality of, 63;
  mode of building introduced by, _ibid._;
  early, 64, 105, 108;
  late, at St. Stephen’s at Caen, 67;
  first _Anglo_-Norman church, 71;
  castle at Lincoln, 72;
  cathedral at Lincoln, _ibid._;
  doorways, compared with Anglo-Saxon, 76;
  windows, 80, 81;
  base-courses, impost, and labels, 84;
  capitals, _ibid._;
  mouldings, 86;
  figure sculpture, _ibid._;
  surface ornaments, _ibid._;
  ideal nave or choir of a church, 87;
  ideal church, 90;
  perfect typical Norman church, 101;
  chosen for King Edward’s church at Westminster, 68;
  outline at Norwich, St. Alban’s, and Tewkesbury, 122;
  church at Worcester, 123;
  cathedral at Selsey, _ibid._;
  cathedral, Durham, 125;
  colonnettes solid with the piers, 146;
  vaulting, 79, 149, 153, 157-160;
  at Rochester, 116.

Normans, architectural ambition of, ii. 26;
  new manner of building introduced by, 62, 63, 68, 136.

Normandy, i. 33, 45;
  architecture of, 318;
  ii. 63; early works in, 64.

Normandy, William of, ii. 26.

Northampton, church of St. Peter, ii. 57.

Northern Europe, nations of, ii. 4.

Northmen, incursions of the, i. 40.

Northwold, Bishop, i. 190.

Norwich Castle, Keep of, ii. 135.

Norwich Cathedral, ii. 116, 122, 123, 126;
  transept aisle, 90;
  central tower, 107, 118;
  plan, 118;
  apse, apsidal chapel, nave, etc., _ibid._;
  cloisters, 217.

Nôtre Dame, Paris, i. 97, 321;
  foliage of nave, 100;
  capital “à crochet,” 102;
  western portals, 126, 144, 166, 321;
  west façade, 141.

Noyon Cathedral, i. 62, 326;
  description of, 88;
  apsidal chapels, 89;
  portals to transepts, 91;
  columns, 102.

Nuremberg, stone houses, i. 21;
  western façade of St. Sibald, 129;
  warehouses, 262.


O

Oak effigies, i. 299.

Oakham Castle, capitals in hall, i. 114.

Odo, Archbishop, ii. 27, 29.

Odorico, Italian mosaic worker, i. 178.

Offa, king of Mercia, i. 184;
  ii. 95;
  his church at St. Alban’s, 102.

Omer, St., round abacus at, i. 155.

Ongar, chapel at Greensted, near, ii. 56.

Oratories, in early Irish remains, ii. 14, 16;
  at Hexham, 31;
  Brixworth, 40.

Order, or rib, in arch-moulding, i. 248.

Orders, development into, in early Irish remains, ii. 22;
  in Norman, 75-77;
  sub-orders, 78;
  divided, 101.

Oriel windows, i. 265;
  ii. 213.

Orme, Philibert de l’, treatise on vaulting, ii. 182.

Ornamentation, of useful features, i. 147.

Oswald, who completed King Edward’s church at York, ii. 29.

Otho III., i. 43;
  ii. 261, 306.

Othos, the first three, i. 41;
  ii. 74.

Ourscamp, monastery at, i. 326.

Oxford, chapter-house at, i. 286;
  Merton Chapel, 287;
  St. Peter’s, moulded vaulting ribs, ii. 194;
  staircase to the hall, Christ Church, 221;
  Divinity schools, 222, 225.


P

Pagan origin of pointed architecture, i. 9, 10.

Pagan tribes, ii. 5;
  in Britain, 9, 14.

Painted decoration, i. 34, 203.

Painted glass, i. 22, 34, 147, 203, 297, 357;
  in secular work, 361.

Painting, i. 142;
  fresco, 213, 271;
  figure, 357;
  introduction of, into vaulting surfaces, ii. 188;
  art of, its origin, 291;
  in Egypt, 297.

Palermo, architecture of, ii. 8.

Paley, Mr., ii. 57.

Palgrave, Sir Francis, ii. 125, 130.

Panels of vaulting, i. 60.

Pantaleon, St., Cologne, i. 278, 279;
  ii. 12, 25.

Pantheon, i. 271;
  ii. 231-234, 237, 244, 246, 253, 260-262, 282, 283.

Parapets, i. 256, 258.

Paris, district round, i. 33;
  Nôtre Dame, 97, 100, 102, 126, 141, 144, 166, 321;
  St Germain des Près, 62, 65, 85, 92;
  Montmartre, 102, 319;
  the focus of the transition, 73;
  Sainte Chapelle, 103, 183, 324;
  architecture of, 318;
  Hôtel Cluny, 324;
  St. Julien le Pauvre, 97, 320.

Paris, Matthew, account of King Edward’s church at Westminster, ii. 68.

Parker’s, Mr., “Glossary,” ii. 56;
  paper on St. Stephen’s at Caen, 66.

Parliament Houses, London, difficulty of finding suitable stone for, i. 222.

Parthenon, i. 18.

Parthians who used the semi-elliptical arch, ii. 179.

Patricus or St. Patrick, ii. 13.

Paul, monk of St. Stephen’s at Caen, ii. 95;
  rebuilt St. Alban’s, 96, 99, 104.

Paulinus, Roman missionary, ii. 29, 30, 50.

Paul’s, St., London, bar-tracery at, i. 163;
  ii. 114, 280-299;
  section of dome founded on the pointed arch, 282;
  scheme of the plan, 287.

Peace, Temple of, ii. 282, 283.

Peckham, Archbishop, tomb of, i. 140, 184, 308.

Pedestals, of doorways, i. 87;
  fluted, 93.

Pedestrian tours, i. 31.

Pelasgi, pointed arch foreshadowed in works of the, i. 66;
  Cyclopean walls of the, ii. 300.

Pendentives, ii. 242-257, 281, 282;
  give place to corbels in many French churches, 276.

Penshurst, halls at, i. 276, 343.

Pericles, period of, ii. 4;
  historians and philosophers of the days of, 300, 312.

Perigord, domical churches of, i. 76.

Perigueux, St. Front at, ii. 271-273, 278.

Persepolis, Hall of Xerxes, ii. 299.

Pershore, church at, i. 90;
  ii. 122.

Persia, succeeded Egypt and Assyria in art and dominion, i. 5;
  ii. 298, 299, 301;
  structures of, 245, 304.

Persians, incursions of the, i. 11;
  Romanesque builders and ornaments of the, 134.

Peterborough, monastery at, ii, 32, 33;
  abbots of, who erected the church at Brixworth, 40.

Peterborough Cathedral, i. 191;
  ii. 33, 99;
  transept aisles, 90;
  eastern end, 113.

Peter’s, St., Rome, ii. 115, 253, 280-289;
  section of dome founded on the pointed arch, 282;
  scheme of the plan, 287.

Peter’s, St., at Gowts, Lincoln, ii. 72.

Petit, Mr., definition of the Norman style, ii. 73.

Petrie, Mr., on early Irish remains, ii. 15, 17.

Pharos, Roman, on the Castle-hill, Dover, ii. 43.

Phidias, period of, ii. 4.

Philibert de l’Orme, his treatise on vaulting, ii. 182.

Philip Augustus, i. 140.

Picts, devastations of the, ii. 13.

Piers, ii. 76;
  subdivision of, i. 48;
  and arches, 225;
  decorated shafts substituted for, ii. 76;
  orders, 76, 78;
  clustered, 78, 146-148, 151;
  in vaulting, 79, 158;
  development of, 80, 143;
  of Roman brick, 97;
  pilaster capitals to, 140.

Pietro, Italian mosaic-worker, i. 179.

Pilasters, in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 36-38, 42, 45, 51, 52, 58, 76;
  in Norman vaulting, 80, 156, 158;
  used asbuttresses in Norman, 82, 102, 103;
  capitals to, 140;
  jambs of arcades converted into, _ibid._;
  to doorways, 149.

Pillars, forms determined by vaulting, i. 63;
  constructional and decorative, 146;
  varieties of, 149;
  moulded bands to, 150;
  bases, _ibid._;
  their development, ii. 143, 146.

Pinnacles, i. 147, 237.

Pisa Cathedral, i. 44.

Pisan architecture, i. 84.

Planning, freedom of, i. 266, 274.

Plantagenet kings, our early, lie buried,
    and effigies of, at the abbey church of Fontevrault, ii. 261, 275.

Plate-tracery, i. 161;
  ii. 152.

Plinths, i. 151;
  square, octagonal, and round, 152.

Poictiers, St. Jean at, ii. 12.

Pointed arch, connection with Saracenic
architecture, i. 13;
  advantages of, 19;
  early use of, in south of France, 54;
  in vaulting, 52, 71;
  theory as to the introduction of, 57, 65;
  ii. 108, 181;
  adoption magical, i. 68;
  systematic introduction into France,;
  at St. Denis, 79;
  at Noyon, 88;
  adopted from structural and mechanical necessity, 235;
  æsthetical reasons for the, 242.

Pointed architecture, claims of, i. 4, 14, 17;
  love for, 3;
  said by some to be the property of the Roman Church, 8;
  Christian style, 9;
  originally Pagan, 9;
  essentially our own style, 14;
  intrinsic claims, 17;
  beauty of external outline, 26;
  in Germany, 33, 141;
  English revival, 36;
  Italian, 142;
  a more advanced stage of Romanesque, 50, 144, 145;
  English, 112, 341;
  leading characteristics of, 146;
  ii. 2, 5;
  doorways in, 77;
  transition of Norman into, 131;
  the culminating Christian architecture of our
    group of nations in the West, 308.

Poole, Mr. Ayliffe, ii. 57.

Porch, at Ely, i. 126, 139, 144, 167, 189;
  ii. 151;
  Anglo-Saxon, at Bradford, Wilts, 46;
  western, at Barton-upon-Humber, 53;
  gabled, at Monk Wearmouth, 49.

Portals, French and English, i. 166.

Practical study of Gothic architecture, i. 331, 344.

Prague, precious stones used in building chapel at, i. 271.

Pre-Norman English churches, ii. 19, 26, 35, 39, 44;
  sculpture, 60;
  buildings, 61.

Près, St. Germain des, i. 62, 319;
  choir vaulting, 65, 92;
  western doorway, 87, 92;
  description of church, 91;
  capitals, 92;
  triforium and clerestory, 118.

Pretenders in the study of Gothic architecture,
    who practise as architects, i. 350.

Primitive art, i. 5.

Procopius, ii. 244, 249.

Proportion, in columns, etc., i. 49;
  rejection of fixed rules in, 230;
  arbitrary rules of, ii. 178.

Provence, architecture of, i. 44, 45.

Pudsey, Bishop, i. 106, 120.

Pugin, his “Contrasts,” “True Principles of
    Pointed or Christian Architecture,” and “Apology,” ii. 319.

Puy, Le, architecture at, i. 99.

Pyramids, ii. 4, 297.


Q

Quenqueville, church of, Normandy, ii. 12.

Quentin, St., angular abacus at, i. 156.

Quoins in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 36, 43.


R

Ramsey Abbey, ii. 33.

Ravenna, Byzantine, i. 40;
  ii. 259, 261;
  baptistery at, 238, 239, 249, 259;
  church of SS. Nesario and Celso, 242.

Recessed orders, ii. 37, 75-77, 101.

Regulus, St., at St. Andrews, church of, ii. 24.

Religion, influence of, on architecture, i. 9, 49.

Remigius, work of, at Lincoln, i. 303;
  ii. 94.

Renaissance, the, ii. 279;
  completion of the dome of the cathedral at Florence during the, 288;
  early architects of the, 314.

Renaissance, Gothic, i. 347;
  ii. 317-328.

Repair of ancient buildings, i. 363.

Rere-arches, i. 281 _et seq._

Reredos, Westminster Abbey, i. 181.

Restoration of ancient buildings, i. 363-365;
  in the days of Canute, ii. 35.

“Revival of Letters,” ii. 293.

Revival, works of the, merit of, i. 2;
  of mediæval architecture, 3;
  of styles, 208, 340, 346;
  traditional phase in the, 346;
  to be distinctly English, 351.

Rheims, St. Remi, i. 103.

Rheims Cathedral, i. 18, 21, 141, 326;
  apsidal columns, 155;
  sculpture at, ii. 312.

Rhineland, i. 45.

Ribs, groin, i. 59, 238, 246, 274, 344;
  introduction of diagonal, 239.

Ribs in vaulting, ii. 80, 177, 191-193, 207-209, 192, 193, 207, 216, 217.

Richard Cœur de Lion, tomb of, ii. 275.

Richard le Bon, ii. 67.

Ridel, Bishop, i. 111.

Rims; see Orders.

Ripon Cathedral, i. 200;
  Roger’s Choir, 109;
  capitals, 123;
  St. Wilfrid’s church at, ii. 31;
  crypt, 32.

Rivaulx Abbey, i. 122, 201, 286.

Roche Abbey, i. 109.

Rochester Cathedral, ii.   27, 29, 116;
  triforium of, 66;
  Gundulph, bishop of, 116;
  Castle, 116;
  Keep at, 135.

Roger, Bishop, i. 108, 109, 120.

Rollo, i. 44.

Roman brick, ii. 37, 40, 41, 44, 52;
  at St. Alban’s, 75;
  from Verulam, 97;
  and tiles, 102.

Roman, construction, i. 219;
  old, manner of building, ii. 5, 9, 35;
  vaulting, 156;
  baths, 180;
  in Britain,   13;
  Pharos, Castle-hill, Dover, 43;
  architecture, 137, 138, 145.

Romane; see Romanesque.

Romanesque, i. 13;
  in France and Germany, 15,   33;
  ii.   7;
  cathedrals of Germany, i.   43;
  refined variety of, 44;
  leading characteristics, 48;
  religious to   the   utmost   extreme,   49;
  ornamentation,     70,    81;
  Pointed Gothic but an advanced stage of, 50;
  vaulted churches, 51;
  refinement of, 70;
  Corinthianesque style of foliage, 77;
  crypt at St.   Denis, 80;
  transepts at Tournay, 90;
  English, 104, 337;
  transition from, 123;
  windows, 159,   161;
  builders, 221;
  cathedral bay, 243;
  of Southern Europe, 254, 337;
  in Normandy, 327;
  manner of building, ii. 6;
  primitive, 11;
  of the North of France, 62, 63, 64;
  style, 73,   75;
  elements of,   75;
  perfect varieties,   82;
  abacus,    94;
  arch-mouldings, 142;
  early,   306;
  of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, 308.

Romano-British reminiscences, ii. 60.

Romans, vaulting used by the, i. 52, 57;
  their pointed arch, 66;
  ii. 304;
  architecture of the, i. 336;
  ii. 303, 304;
  want of refinement in the details of, 304;
  greatly extended the capabilities of classic architecture, _ibid._;
  late buildings of the, in Syria, 305.

Rome, her arts and literature, i. 5;
  early architecture of, 45;
  early windows of, 250;
  empire of, ii. 4, 297;
  architecture of, 6;
  St. Peter’s, 115, 253, 280-289;
  St. Paul without the Walls, and St. John Lateran,   146;
  Pantheon, i. 271;
  ii. 231-234, 237, 244, 246, 253, 260, 262, 282, 283;
  Temple of Minerva Medica, 234-236, 239, 246, 249,   259;
  Temple of Vesta,   237;
  Tomb of St. Constantia, 237, 238.

Romsey Minster, ii. 108.

Roof-plate, stone, i. 258.

Roofs, i. 19, 254, 274, 327;
  timber of early basilicas, 51;
  high pitch, 255;
  timber, ii. 136.

Rosette, the, i. 248.

Rose-windows, ii. 218.

Rouen, i. 141;
  doorways, western façade, 87.

Round arch, outward pressure of, i. 233.

Round-arched Gothic, i. 70;
  ii.   5, 8, 134,   178;
  vaulting,   153-168,   191;
  vaulting of oblong bays, 163;
  vaulting with raised ridges, 171.

Rufus, King, ii. 107, 113, 117, 127.

Ruins, i. 31;
  their decay, 32.

Runic ornamentation, i. 41.

Ruskin, Mr., i. 349;
  on classic capitals, ii. 302.

Rye House, i. 314.


S

Sainte Chapelle, i. 183, 324;
  capitals “à crochet,” 103;
  vaulting of the crypt, ii. 204, 222.

Salisbury Cathedral, i. 18, 140;
  ii. 311;
  north porch, i. 167;
  space between rere-arch and glass plane groined in some windows at, 283;
  rere-arch windows, 286;
  chapter-house, 288, 343;
  ii. 184, 210;
  cloisters, i. 343;
  Lady Chapel, ii. 204, 222.

Salzenberg’s “Old Christian Architecture at Constantinople,” ii. 258.

Sangallo, drawings of, preserved in the Barberini library, ii. 236, 280.

Saracenic, traces of, in pointed architecture, i. 8, 9, 13, 133;
  ornament used by Romanesque builders, 134.

Saracens, incursions, i. 40;
  pointed arch of the, 67, 133;
  Corinthian capital foreshadowed in works of the, 133.

Sassanians, Corinthian capital foreshadowed in works of the, i. 133.

Saxon, structures in England not unlike those of northern France, i. 41;
  Switzerland, _ibid._;
  architecture, 42, 44.

Saxons, Pagan, ii. 3;
  early efforts of the, 7;
  invasion of the, into Britain, 9.

Saxony, i. 42.

Scandinavia, ii. 11, 62.

Schatzzimmer or treasury, valuables found in German churches, i. 328.

Science, modern, in works, i. 271.

Scind, European engineers in, i. 237.

Scotia, i. 152.

Scotland, the transition in, i. 341;
  early buildings in, ii. 12, 13, 21, 24.

Scott, Sir Gilbert, his love of Gothic architecture
    absolutely spontaneous, ii. 316;
  some account of personal reminiscences of the
    Gothic renaissance, 317-328.

Scott, Sir Walter, ii. 316.

Sculpture, i. 34, 50, 142, 148, 274;
  ii. 291, 297, 325;
  figure, i. 22, 327;
  foliated, 25, 339;
  in doorways, 258;
  Greek, 336, 356;
  drawing from, 339;
  animal, 357;
  pre-Norman, ii. 60.

Sebert, King of Essex, ii. 114.

Selby Abbey, i. 109;
  ii. 126;
  choir aisles, i. 287.

Selsey, ancient see of, ii. 123.

Senlis, Cathedral and Church at, i. 326.

Sens, William of, i. 85, 112, 113, 117.

Sens Cathedral, i. 95, 326;
  description of, 96;
  capitals, 97, 102, 113;
  compared with St. Cross, 125;
  use of the pointed arch in the vaulting, ii. 181.

Sergius and Bacchus, SS., at Constantinople, ii. 248, 259.

Seventeenth century domestic work, i. 340.

Sexpartite vaulting, i. 63;
  ii. 196.

Shafts, use of, i. 49;
  full-length figures attached to, 80, 87;
  subsidiary, 149.

Sherborne Minster, ii. 220.

Shingle, i. 256.

Shoreham, i. 202.

Shrines, i. 327;
  jewelled, at Marburg, 329.

Sibald, St., at Nuremburg, western façade, i. 129.

Sicily, Corinthianesque type in the capitals of the Moors in, i. 84;
  architecture of, ii. 8.

Sienna, cathedral at, ii. 263.

Silver-work, i. 345.

Sistine Chapel, ii. 173.

Sixteenth century domestic work, i. 340.

Skelton, chapel at, i. 21.

Skelton Church, i. 200.

Sketching, i. 31, 32, 339;
  advice for, 301, 318, 329, 330, 333, 345.

Smirke, Mr., ii. 1, 290, 314;
  on the classic revival, 316.

Soissons, i. 326.

Sompting, Essex, tower at, ii. 53.

Sophia, St., Constantinople, i. 273;
  ii. 244, 246, 260, 264-266, 282.

Souillac, pointed domes at, ii. 273.

Southwark, St. Saviour’s, i. 171, 314;
  ii. 324;
  clerestory vaulting, 187;
  Lady Chapel, 205;
  choir, _ibid._

Southwell, choir and chapter house, i. 199, 343.

Spain, ii. 8.

Spalatro, Diocletian’s palace at, ii. 237.

Spanish architecture, i. 330.

Spire Cathedral, i. 43.

Stained glass, i. 34, 147, 251, 297, 327, 357;
  ii. 325.

Stair-turrets, octagonal, at Ely, ii. 113;
  Norman, at Christchurch, 131.

Stalls, chancel, i. 327.

Stamford, St. Leonard’s Priory, ii. 151.

Stamford, St. Mary’s and All Saints, i. 194.

Steeples, typical, on the Rhine, ii. 53.

Stephano, San, at Bologna, ii. 262.

Stephen’s, St., at Caen, ii. 64;
  first abbot of, 65;
  gallery to transepts, 66;
  apsidal chapel on the triforium level, _ibid._;
  choir, _ibid._;
  western towers, _ibid._;
  piers, _ibid._;
  vaulting to the nave, 67;
  bases, 72;
  plan, 96;
  transepts doubly aisled, 105;
  capitals, 120;
  crypt, 157.

Stephen’s, St., at Nevers, ii. 89.

Stephen’s, St., at Perigueux, ii. 273.

Stephen’s, St., Westminster, i. 183, 343;
  crypt, ii 212, 216;
  cloisters, 220.

Stilting, in vaulting, i. 57;
  ii. 163-165, 172;
  to narrow arches of oblong groining, i. 65, 242;
  to semicircles, ii. 179.

Stone church near Gravesend, i. 188, 314;
  windows, 283.

Stone, houses, i. 21;
  carving, 22;
  slate, 256.

Stonehenge, ii. 9.

Stow, Lincolnshire, church at, ii. 50.

Strasbourg Cathedral, i. 18.

String-courses, Anglo-Saxon, ii. 38, 45, 52.

Styles, choice of, or preference for, different mediæval, i. 340, 346.

Stylites, St. Simeon, dome erected over the pillar of, ii. 305.

Sugar, Abbot, of St. Denis, i. 77, 105, 128, 129.

Sweyn, King, destructions of, ii. 28, 34, 54, 58, 67, 114.

Symeon, Abbot, his work at Ely, ii. 108.

Syria, Central, ruined cities of, i. 336;
  Byzantine remains in, ii. 141, 305.

Syria, old architecture of, ii. 305.


T

Tapestry, i. 22, 204, 271, 329.

Tavistock Place, specimen of the untutored house-builder, ii. 315.

Temple area at Jerusalem, double gate and golden gate of, ii. 243.

Temple Balsal, i. 183, 287.

Temple Church, London, i. 119, 174, 202, 286;
  ii. 324;
  circular aisle, 184, 205.

Temples, sources of nearly all forms of architecture, i. 9;
  character of interiors, 26;
  our own form of church the direct inheritance from the earliest, 338;
  ii. 237, 238;
  the dome as the central point of Christian temples, 245.

Tenth century, i. 47.

Tesselated pavements at Florence, ii. 262.

Teutonic tribes, ii. 5.

Tewkesbury Abbey, i. 90; ii. 122;
  central tower, 107, 122, 135.

Texier and Pullans “Byzantine Architecture,” ii. 258.

Thatch, i. 256.

Thebaid, deserts of, ii. 20.

Theodoric, structures erected by, i. 39.

Theotokos, church of the Holy, Constantinople, ii. 257.

Thirteenth century, i. 6, 47;
  rigour of the system of vaulting in the, 64;
  magnificent capitals in French work of the, 85, 137;
  work in England, 139;
  work in France, 140, 204, 322, 323, 349;
  work in Germany, 141, 204;
  principles of design with reference to ultimate intention
    strongly marked in French works of the, 247.

Through-arch windows, i. 282.

Tigris, banks of the, part source of our civilisation and art, ii. 296, 298.

Tiles, plain, i. 256.

Timber, street fronts, i. 21;
  roofs, 22, 55;
  work, 345;
  roofs, seating, and screens of Norfolk and Suffolk, 300;
  building of the Pagan tribes in Britain, ii. 9;
  in pre-Norman England, 26;
  temporary church of, at York, 29;
  imitation construction in Anglo-Saxon work, 36, 38, 58;
  chapel at Greensted, Essex, 56.

Tintern Abbey, i. 140, 164, 286, 433;
  chapter-house, 285.

Tithe-barns, i. 21.

Tivoli, Temple of Vesta at, ii. 237.

Tomaso, San, at Lymine, near Bajamo, ii. 262.

Tombs, rock-cut, of Egypt, ii. 297;
  at Beni Hassan, 298.

Toothed ornament, i. 248;
  ii. 151.

Torcello, church at, ii. 306.

Torre dei Schiavi, dome of the, ii. 237.

Torrigiano, work of, at Westminster, i. 312.

Torus, i. 151.

Touloun, mosque of, at Cairo, ii. 144.

Tournay, transepts at, i. 90.

Tours, tracery at, i. 162.

Tower of London, chapel of St. John, i. 313;
  ii. 88, 93, 116, 120, 130, 135, 162, 324;
  semi-dome of, 277;
  apsidal aisle, 165, 183.

Towers and spires of Lincolnshire and Northamptonshire, i. 300.

Towers, round, of Ireland, ii. 25;
  in Anglo-Saxon work, 37, 38, 40-49, 58;
  between Lincoln and the Humber, 72.

Town-halls, i. 21, 260.

Trabeated architecture, i. 18, 45, 46, 274;
  ii. 5, 73, 136, 138, 140, 303;
  difficulty of carrying out, on a large scale, i. 222;
  in its truest form, 263.

Tracery, plate, i. 161;
  bar, 162;
  in parapets, 258;
  window, 276, 282, 342, 353;
  ii. 142.

Transitional style, i. 69;
  first developed in the Royal domain of France, 73;
  English, 70, 75, 103, 134, 247, 337, 341;
  German, 75, 128, 134;
  Italian, 75;
  French, 75-103, 134;
  characteristics of English and French works of the, compared, 123, 127;
  in Wales and Scotland, 341;
  a second English, 342;
  its study, _ibid._;
  early, 347;
  at Ely, ii. 113;
  Canterbury, 197;
  Lincoln, _ibid._;
  St. David’s, _ibid._;
  church of La Citè at Perigueux agreeing with our own, 273.

Transverse, ribs, ii. 182, 191;
  arches, Henry VII.’s Chapel, 224.

Treasures, at Cologne, i. 328;
  at Marburg, 329.

Triangular heads to doors and windows in Anglo-Saxon work, ii. 37.

Triforium, i. 56, 90;
  openings in the, 161;
  at St. Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 66;
  in Norman work, 87;
  at Norwich, 118;
  Gloucester, 121;
  gallery of churches, 152.

Trophimus, St., at Arles, i. 99, 229.

Trumpington, Abbot William de, i. 185.

Tudor style of window tracery, i. 277.

Tufa used in early vaulting for the continuous arched surface, ii. 191.

Tuille, Limosin, church at, i. 123.

Turgot, Prior, ii. 126.

Tuscan order, ii. 10.

Twelfth century, efforts to correct construction and refine
    decoration in the, i. 233; ii. 8;
  principles of design with reference to the ultimate intention
    strongly marked in French works of the, i. 247;
  St. Cormac’s Chapel at Cashel erected in the, ii. 23;
  artists of the, 178.

Tympanum at Amiens, i. 166.

Tynemouth Abbey, i. 120;
  eastern part, 284;
  ii. 197.


V

Valence, William de, effigy of, i. 180, 311.

Vandalism, modern, i. 35.

Vaulting, groined, i. 46;
  ii. 79, 136, 149, 153, 157, 160, 228;
  where avoided, i. 47;
  thickness of wall to resist thrust of, 49;
  endeavour to perfect the system of, 51;
  comprising two bays of nave, common in German round-arched churches, 62;
  sexpartite, _ibid._;
  ii. 196;
  introduction of the pointed arch into, i. 64, 76, 77;
  ii. 180;
  perfected, i. 147;
  ribbed, rationale of, 238, 246, 274, 344;
  to the nave of St. Stephen’s, Caen, ii. 67;
  Norman, 79, 87;
  round-arched, 153, 168, 171, 191;
  of the polygon, 162, 172;
  of oblong spaces, 163, 177, 205;
  of aisles passing round a polygonal figure, 164;
  a circular building with a central pillar, 166, 184;
  a polygon with a central pillar, 168;
  stilting, 163-165, 172, 183, 205;
  moulded ribs to the intersections of, 175;
  with raised ridges, 171, 176, 186, 218;
  with level ridges, 177, 183, 186, 209;
  the _dome_, 168-170;
  new form of, 171;
  over wide spaces, 180;
  triangular spaces, 175;
  irregular spaces, _ibid._;
  stilting the wall-ribs in, 187;
  spaces, surfaces of, 187, 195, 269;
  octopartite, 196;
  quinquepartite, 197;
  decapartite, _ibid._;
  dodecapartite, _ibid._;
  of two chapels near the west end, Lincoln, 198;
  of the crypt, Glasgow, 200;
  choir, Lincoln, 202;
  chapter-house, Lichfield, 203;
  octagonal kitchen, Durham, _ibid._;
  Caudebec, Lady Chapel, hexagon with pendant, _ibid._;
  Lady Chapel, Salisbury, 204;
  presbytery, Ely, 209,
  bays, west of the crossing, Westminster Abbey, _ibid._;
  chapter-house and Lady Chapel, Chester, 210;
  chapter-house, Wells, _ibid._;
  Exeter Cathedral, 211;
  cloisters, Westminster Abbey, _ibid._;
  Liernes, 182, 211-213;
  Ely Cathedral, 212;
  Nantwich Church, _ibid._;
  nave, Westminster, _ibid._;
  Crosby Hall and Eltham Palace, 213;
  choir, Gloucester, 214;
  nave, Winchester, _ibid._;
  half-height plans of, 216;
  fan, see Fan-vaulting.

Vaulting-ribs, development of, ii. 191-193, 209;
  to set out, 192, 193;
  determining the plans of abaci, 207;
  repetition of the same curve for the, 216;
  a curve of two centres for, _ibid._;
  in fan-vaulting, 217.

Vaults, i. 19, 47;
  barrel, 51;
  ii. 153;
  groined, i. 49, 52, 53, 58, 238, 240, 241;
  ii. 79, 149, 153, 157-160, 305;
  square groined, i. 240;
  in early Irish remains, ii. 14, 21;
  wagon, 87, 89, 93;
  over wide spaces, 180;
  irregular spaces, _ibid._;
  demi-vaults at Gloucester, 121;
  rendered ornamental, 138;
  Angevine, 171;
  “domed up,” 187.

Venice, St. Mark’s, i. 44, 82, 180, 337;
  western portals at, ii. 144, 257, 264, 271, 273, 278, 285, 306.

Venice, Ducal palace, i. 266.

Verona, church of St. Zeno, i. 44.

Verulam, i. 184;
  ii. 95;
  stones and tiles from, 96;
  Roman tiles from, 97.

Vesta, temple of, at Rome and Tivoli, ii. 237.

Vezelay, Romanesque vaulting of, i. 63;
  abbey of, 327.

Via Nomentana, Rome, tomb in the, ii. 243.

Via Prænestina, Torre dei Schiavi in the, ii. 237.

Viollet le Duc, ii. 198.

Vitale, San, church of, ii. 259.

Vitruvius, ii. 10, 237;
  respecting the Etruscan temples, 301.

Vogüé, Count de, i. 336;
  ii. 7, 305.

Voluted capital, ii. 302.

Vortigern, ii. 13.


W

Wagon-head vaults, i. 238;
  ii. 87;
  at St. Stephen’s, Nevers, 89;
  Tower Chapel, 93.

Wales, the transition in, i. 341.

Walkelin de Ferres, i. 14, 120.

Walkelyn, Bishop, ii. 104.

Walpole, Horace, ii. 316.

Walsingham, Alan de, work of, i. 276.

Waltham Abbey, i. 31, 314;
  roof of, ii. 100, 120, 124, 126.

Waltham Cross, i. 189, 314.

Waltheof, ii. 59.

Walton, West, detached tower, i. 194.

Warehouses of Germany, i. 21.

Warmington Church, i. 193.

Wells Cathedral, i. 22, 140;
  sculpture at, 202;
  façade, 165, 187;
  north porch, 167;
  bishop’s palace, 287;
  group of colonnettes at, ii. 148;
  choir, 216;
  chapter-house, 210.

Welsh groins, ii. 173, 199, 214.

Western Empire, architecture of, i. 11;
  civilisation and arts, ii. 6, 296.

Western Europe, churches of, i. 51;
  thirteenth century work in, 137;
  buildings of, in the twelfth century, ii. 7;
  carved ornamentation of, 8;
  architecture of, in A.D. 1000, 62.

Westminster Abbey, i. 31, 140, 174, 273, 286, 351;
  ii. 35, 189, 311;
  bar-tracery, i. 163;
  geometrical system of tracery, 276;
  window-glazing, 252;
  soffit of rere-arch richly panelled, 283;
  eastern portions, 343;
  chapter-house, 177, 287;
  work of Edward the Confessor, 209;
  St. Catharine’s Chapel, 310;
  study of, _ibid._;
  works of Henry III. and Edward I. _ibid._;
  sculpture, 311;
  Henry VII.’s Chapel, Torrigiano’s work, 312;
  enamel and mosaic work, retabulum of the altar, iron and bronze work, 312;
  church refounded by King Edward, ii. 68;
  description of, by contemporary writers, _ibid._, 69;
  by a writer in the thirteenth century, 70;
  bases found under the altar space of Edward the Confessor’s church, 72;
  capitals in the Confessor’s buildings, 85;
  aisle of apse, 183;
  chapter-house vaulting, 184, 185, 200, 205;
  clerestory vaulting, 187;
  bosses, 195;
  Chapel of St. Faith, 197, 207;
  vaulting of the eastern part of, 205;
  bayswest of the crossing, 209;
  cloisters, 211, 216;
  Henry VII.’s Chapel, 220-227, 311.

Westminster Hall, i. 314; ii. 324.

Whitby Abbey, i. 201;
  rere-arch windows, 286.

Wilfrid, St., ii. 31, 99.

Willis, Professor, on vaulting, i. 344;
  ii. 156, 202, 217, 219;
  history of Canterbury Cathedral, 28, 66;
  St. Stephen’s at Caen, 66;
  York, 103.

Winchelsea, choir at, i. 343.

Winchester Cathedral, i. 202;
  ii. 103, 115, 128;
  eastern chapels, i. 127, 144, 286;
  as rebuilt in the reign of Edgar, ii. 33;
  gallery across transepts, 66;
  capitals in the crypt, 85;
  transepts, aisles of, 89, 105;
  piers of transepts, 105;
  capitals, arch-orders, windows, etc., 106;
  triforium piers, _ibid._;
  central tower, 107;
  crypt, _ibid._;
  nave, 108, 214;
  western portals, 216.

Window-glass, i. 19.

Windows, i. 19, 256, 257, 274, 276;
  ii. 136;
  clerestory, i. 51;
  determined by vaulting, 63;
  pointed arch used for, 66;
  leading architectural features, 147, 158;
  traceried and mullioned, 160, 162;
  circular, 161;
  Italian, French, and German, 206;
  system of constructing, 228, 250, 277;
  in secular buildings, 263;
  reason why so little used in Romanesque work, 250;
  so much used in developed Gothic, 251;
  Early English, grouping of, in domestic buildings, 251;
  introduction of mullions into, 252;
  arches of, their filling in, 253;
  arched form not binding, _ibid._;
  splayed inside and out, 278;
  splay mainly internal, 278, 282;
  in Norman transitional work and Early English, 279;
  rere-arch, 281;
  in early Irish remains, ii. 22;
  in round towers, 25;
  in Anglo-Saxon work, 37, 42, 43, 47;
  belfry, 38, 52;
  wooden lintels to, 43;
  development of, 80, 81, 151;
  in church on the Castle-hill, Dover, 81;
  domestic, _ibid._;
  at St. Alban’s, 102;
  traceried, 142, 152.

Windsor, St. George’s Chapel, ii. 220.

Wolstan, St., ii. 59, 122.

Wolstan, Winchester Cathedral described by, ii. 34.

Wood-carving, i. 22, 299.

Worcester, lost hall at, i. 343.

Worcester Cathedral, i. 202;
  ii. 122;
  crypt and chapter-house, 122, 167, 218.

World, coming to an end of, in A.D. 1000, ii. 62.

Worms, domical church at, ii. 277.

Worth, church at, Sussex, ii. 19, 38, 44.

Wren, Sir Christopher, ii. 284, 285.

Wykeham, work of, i. 277;
  at Winchester, ii. 108.


X

Xanten, western façade at, i. 129.

Xerxes, hall of, i. 18.


Y

York Cathedral, i. 18, 21, 139, 288;
  ii. 99;
  north transept windows, i. 160;
  cornices, 165;
  transept, 200, 286;
  crypt under choir, 231;
  chapter-house, 343;
  ii. 199;
  vaulting under central tower, 199.

York, Archbishop’s Palace, i. 109.

York, St. Mary’s Abbey, i. 108, 140, 164, 200, 288;
  ii. 147;
  square abacus, i. 303, 343.

Yprès, hall at, i. 26, 262, 266.


Z

Zeno, St., church of, at Verona, i. 44.

Zeus, ii. 301.

Zinzig, church at, i. 129.


                               THE END.


               _Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.


FOOTNOTES:

[1] For an illustration, see Lecture IX. vol. i. p. 336, Fig. 192.

[2] I beg again to refer to the admirable article on this phase of
architecture, which Mr. Freeman terms _Primitive Romanesque_, in the
fifth volume of his _Norman Conquest_. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[3] For illustration see “Digression concerning Windows,” inserted
between Lectures VII. and VIII. Fig. 157.

[4] I must apologise for this term. I know the best judges pronounce it
wrong; but I really am ignorant as to what other will express the same
meaning. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[5] See Worth Church, p. 44, Figs. 216, 217.

[6] See “Digression concerning Windows,” inserted between Lectures VII.
and VIII., vol. i., fig. 156.

[7] The original church at Lyminge, which is said to have been built
by the sister of Eadbald, is known only by its foundations. It seems
to have had three eastern and one western apse. It is well worthy of
careful attention. It seems to have been erected on the site of a large
Roman Villa. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[8] This tower has since been removed, which I cannot but regret, and a
stone one added east of the transept. During the repairs very curious
windows have been discovered at a high level, divided into separate
lights by a massive baluster roughly wrought instead of being turned.
(G. G. S. 1878.)

[9] These are now in the Architectural Museum.

[10] A considerable diversity of opinion has existed as to the date of
this church, some thinking it to be of the tenth century, but others,
including Mr. Freeman, identifying it with one mentioned by William of
Malmesbury of a far earlier date. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[11] This, like that at Monk Wearmouth, has been proved to be a Saxon
addition to a Saxon church. (G. G. S. 1878).

[12] This tower has been found to have beneath its floor a stratum of
ashes, the relics of Sweyn’s incendiarism. (G. G. S. 1878).

[13] Throughout the north they are very frequent; five of them are
built into the walls of Kirkdale church. I have found very many; and
Canon Greenwell has collected many in the old Refectory at Durham,
among numerous other remarkable relics of the same periods. (G. G. S.
1878).

[14] I have already mentioned one specimen I know; that in the ancient
chapter-house at Jumièges. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[15] For plan, see Lecture XII., page 98, Fig. 250.

[16] This was founded by Judith, the grandmother of the Conqueror,
and its most remarkable feature is the use of domical vaulting in its
aisles. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[17] The word translated “aisle” is, in the life of the Confessor
as published by the Master of the Rolls given as “_abitus_;” but,
on examining the original in the British Museum with the aid of
the experts there, I find a mark of abbreviation making it really
“_ambitus_.” (G. G. S. 1878.)

[18] See Lecture II., vol. i. page 48.

[19] _e.g._ Such windows as those of the Church on the Castle-hill at
Dover, where the glass was nearly in the middle of the thickness of the
wall, both sides being splayed at an angle of 45 degrees. (G. G. S.
1878).

[20] See Italian, French, German, and English domestic windows, Lecture
V., vol. i., pages 206-209.

[21] See capitals from Caen and Lincoln, Lecture XII. p. 96, Figs. 248,
249.

[22] See Lecture XII., page 108, Fig. 257.

[23] For illustration, see Lecture X. page 23, Figs. 201, 202.

[24] For illustration, see Lecture XII. Figs. 242, 243, 244.

[25] This seems to be the general opinion, but is by some doubted; and
I do not know that it is capable of proof. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[26] For illustrations, see Lecture X., Figs. 213, 220.

[27] The lower storey of a tower towards the north-east and some parts
of the crypt are exceptions. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[28] He built also the small keep of St. Leonard near Mailing. (G. G.
S. 1878.)

[29] See Lecture XIV., pp. 167, 168, Figs. 331, 332.

[30] See Lecture XIV., p. 167, Fig. 330.

[31] I have, in a paper recently read before the Archæological
Institute, shown that it is improbable that any part of the work of
Losinga of Hereford now exists, and that the work there is by his
successors. (G. G. S. 1878).

[32] My lectures were suspended during the next session owing to
the removal of the academy to Burlington House, and this course was
relinquished. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[33] I mean “British Architecture” in the sense of the architecture of
the _British Isles_. (G. G. S. 1878).

[34] See Lecture X. page 49, Fig. 221.

[35] St. Mary’s Abbey, York, see Lecture III. vol. i. page 108.

[36] The same is the case with the south doorway of St. Joseph’s
Chapel, (so called) at Glastonbury. (G. G. S. 1878.) See Lecture III.,
p. 115, Fig. 74.

[37] See view of Nave, Durham, Lecture XII. page 128, Fig. 170.

[38] See Crypt, Winchester, Lecture XII. page 108, Fig. 257.

[39] See views of Norwich and Durham, Lecture XII. pages 119, 128,
Figs. 265, 270.

[40] See page 172.

[41] See Lecture XII., page 93.

[42] This seems to be missing one step. The _exact_ parallel is between
a barrel vault with semicircular apse and a barrel vault with polygonal
apse. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[43] For plan and other illustrations of the Tower chapel, see Lecture
XII., page 92.

[44] See page 185, Figs. 351, 352.

[45] See Lecture XIII., page 153, Fig. 313.

[46] Sens. Lecture III., page 94, Fig. 39.

[47] Canterbury. Lecture III., page 112, Fig. 69.

[48] St. Joseph’s Chapel, Glastonbury. Lecture III., page 116, Fig. 75.

[49] St. Cross. Lecture III., page 124, Fig. 86.

[50] St. David’s. Lecture III., page 117, Fig. 76.

[51] Temple Church, Circular Aisle. See Lecture III. page 119, Fig. 79.

[52] See Lecture III., page 124, Fig. 86.

[53] See Lecture III., page 116, Fig. 75.

[54] The English system is not constant, even in early examples, and
was discontinued at later dates. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[55] There is a fine example of this in the Treasury of Canterbury
Cathedral. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[56] See page 206, Figs. 379, 380.

[57] See Lecture III., Fig. 81.

[58] See Lecture XIV., page 184, Fig. 353.

[59] For illustration, see Lecture IV., Fig. 97.

[60] See Lecture XIV., p. 167, Fig. 330.

[61] See Fig. 398.

[62] This, I think, is known to have been the case, and that it was
taken down for the sake of reusing the material in St. Peter’s. (G. G.
S. 1878).

[63] These excrescent structures are now obliterated, and are chiefly
known by drawings of the fifteenth century by Sangallo, preserved in
the Barberéni Library. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[64] See Fig. 422.

[65] A large part of these were renewed in the fifteenth or sixteenth
century. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[66] See Fig. 430.

[67] See Fig. 439.

[68] See a very interesting paper by Mr. Street, R.A., in the
_Transactions of the Institute of British Architects_. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[69] See Lecture XII., page 93, Fig. 243.

[70] See Figs. 441 and 453.

[71] See Design for Central Hall, Law Courts, London (_Frontispiece_),
and Design for Central Dome, Houses of Parliament, Berlin.

[72] I need hardly say that the _Architectural Museum_ affords
unrivalled facilities for the study of Mediæval carved work. (G. G. S.
1878.)