The more carefully we examine into the subject, the stronger

LECTURES

ON

THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT

OF

MEDIÆVAL ARCHITECTURE

[Illustration: Fig. 116.--Western Porch, Ely Cathedral.

_The restoration of the Vescica Piscis is taken from a print in the

British Museum, dated 1730._]

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. I.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET

1879

_The right of Translation is reserved._

_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.

PREFACE.

Only half of the following Lectures were delivered by me, as the

_Professor of Architecture_, at the Royal Academy. The first seven were

delivered while Professor Cockerell held the Chair; but, owing to his

infirm state of health, I being then an Associate, was, in conjunction

with Mr. Smirke, called in to relieve him of this duty. The eighth and

ninth Lectures were prepared six years later, after Mr. Smirke had

retired, and those which follow, when I had succeeded him in the

Professorship.

The Lectures are naturally somewhat disconnected; and having been

written both at various times and for audiences often changing, may be

found in some instances to repeat the same facts and ideas, for which,

as well as for too great a prolixity of style, I beg to apologise.

They were written with much zeal; and, thanks to my staff, and to my

pupils, my sons, and others, they were magnificently and profusely

illustrated; more so, perhaps, than any such Lectures had ever been

before.

They have lain long in abeyance; but it seemed to me, that “for better

for worse,” and notwithstanding the lapse of time, they ought to be

published, and Mr. Murray has most kindly undertaken to do this for me.

In correcting them for the press, I have made only verbal alterations,

or corrected accidental errors, or omitted a few harsh expressions.

Where I wished to amplify, I have done so by notes. The illustrations

have been mainly drawn by my friend and assistant, Mr. W. S. Weatherley,

chiefly from those exhibited when the Lectures were delivered, with

additions from my more recent sketches, and will be found to contribute

largely to the elucidation of the text.

GEO. GILBERT SCOTT.

LONDON, _February 1878_.

* * * * *

_At the time of the sudden and deplorable death of Sir Gilbert

Scott in March last, more than 200 illustrations had been made and

engraved. The remaining ones are completed in conformity with his

marginal directions._

_Many of these were prepared by me for the Lectures ten years ago,

and all have been compared with Sir Gilbert’s sketches, with the

diagrams in the MSS., and redrawn. The engraving is by “Leitch’s

photographic process.”_

_Some valuable woodcuts, lent by permission of Mr. Fergusson and

Mr. Murray, have also been inserted among the letterpress._

W. SAMᴸ. WEATHERLEY.

20 COCKSPUR STREET,

LONDON, S.W.

CONTENTS.

VOL. I.

LECTURE I.

The Claims of Mediæval Architecture upon our Study.

Introduction--Art follows the course of civilisation--Three _primâ

facie_ claims Gothic Architecture has upon Study--Additional

claim, that it is Christian Architecture--Objections to the

title--Explanations of the term--Byzantine the earliest Christian

style--Summary of the Historical claims of Mediæval Architecture--Its

intrinsic claims--Abstract beauty--Advantages of an arcuated over a

trabeated style--Facility in decorating construction, and in converting

structural features into elements of beauty--Adaptability to varied

climates--Unites all arts in one--Painted glass--Sculpture--Foliated

sculpture--Gothic Architecture suited to the severest and most elegant

styles--Beauty of external outline--Delicacy of mouldings--Religious

solemnity of the interior of its temples--The spirit with which

the study of Mediæval Architecture should be undertaken--How to be

pursued--Practical objects for which it should be followed up Page 1

LECTURE II.

Sketch of the Rise of Mediæval Architecture.

Anomalous state of things in Western Europe after the destruction

of the Roman Empire--Art almost extinct--Saved by the Western

Church and the Eastern Empire--Architectural elements of the new

races--Charlemagne’s attempts to revive art--Primitive art in England

and the north of France--Dawn of better things--Architecture of

the tenth century--Schools of art and science--Bishop Bernward’s

works--Origin of early styles in France and Germany--Early architecture

of Rome--The arcuated and the trabeated systems--Development of

Romanesque--Its leading characteristics--Romanesque and Pointed

architecture not TWO styles, but ONE--Barrel vaults--Groined

vaults--Oblong bays--Main arches of groined vaulting changed from the

semicircle to the pointed arch--Flying buttresses--Groin ribs--The

pointed arch arose from statical not geometrical or æsthetical

motives--Wall ribs remain round long after the wider arches become

pointed--Two modes adopted to avoid the difficulty of oblong groining

over naves--Sexpartite vaulting Page 37

LECTURE III.

The Transition.

Gradual refinement of Romanesque--French architects the earliest to

systematise the pointed arch--The English before the Germans--The

Italians from the Germans--Fully acknowledged in France 1140--Suger’s

work at St. Denis--Carving in French churches--Corinthianesque outline

of capitals--Distinctly Byzantine capitals--A route by which Byzantine

foliage may have reached France--The importation indisputable--Its

effects seen in Early English capitals--West front of Chartres--Fluting

on basement of doorways--Cathedral of Noyon--St. Germain des Pres,

Paris--Cathedral of Sens, prototype of the Choir and Trinity Chapel

at Canterbury--Nôtre Dame, Paris--A new kind of foliage--The capital

“à crochet”--English transition--Incipient specimens--Refined

Norman--Pointed style, with reminiscences of Romanesque--William

of Sens--William the Englishman--Influence of French work--Oakham

Castle--Glastonbury Abbey--Cathedral of St. David’s--Temple Church,

London--Chichester Cathedral--Tynemouth Abbey--Hexham Abbey--Unfoliated

capitals--Round moulded capitals--Characteristics of English and French

transition--The German transition--Practical lessons from studying

these changes--Principles to which the transition was pioneer Page 69

LECTURE IV.

The Thirteenth Century.

Mediæval architecture usually classified under heads of

centuries--Actual points of change do not coincide with these

divisions--Auspices for the development of the Early Pointed

style--Great works in England and France--Artistic disturbance

in Germany--Progress in Italy--Energy pervades every branch of

art--Perfected Early Pointed a natural growth from Romanesque--Leading

characteristics--Columns--Bases of Columns--Capitals--Plan

of the abacus--Circular plan--Whence this arose--Moulded

capitals--Windows--Bases of buildings--Cornices and foliated

bands--Doorways--French and English compared Page 137

LECTURE V.

The Thirteenth Century--_continued_.

St. Saviour’s, Southwark--Choir of Temple Church, London--Chapel

at Lambeth--Westminster Abbey--Its Italian mosaic work, monuments,

and ancient reredos--Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Holborn--St.

Alban’s Abbey--Priory Church, Dunstable--Stone Church near

Gravesend--Waltham Cross--Jesus Chapel, Cambridge--Ely and Peterborough

Cathedrals--Warmington Church--West Walton Abbey--Crowland

Abbey--St. Mary’s and All Saints, Stamford--Ketton, Grantham, and

Frampton Churches--Lincoln Cathedral--Southwell Minster--Newstead

Abbey--York Cathedral--St. Mary’s Abbey, and St. Leonard’s Hospital,

York--Skelton Church--Beverley and Ripon Minsters--Fountains, Rivaulx,

Whitby, Kirkham, and Guisborough Abbeys--Chapel of the Nine Altars,

Durham--Hexham and Dryburgh Abbeys--Chapel of Holyrood--Elgin and

Glasgow Cathedrals--Furness Abbey--Southern examples--Most great

churches in France vaulted, not so in England--Universal excellence

of workmanship from 1175 to 1400--Domestic architecture of France,

Germany, Italy, and England--Influence of thirteenth century work on

our artistic practice Page 170

LECTURE VI.

The Rationale of Gothic Architecture.

Contradictory opinions as to the character and origin of Gothic

Architecture--True causes of its origin--The arch--The Romans

eminently practical--Two defects in their architecture--Practical

improvements--Use of small materials--Arches in rims--Sub-ordinating

rims--Imposts--Pilaster capitals--Decorative columns--Romanesque

arch decorations--Labels--Clustered columns--Weight of arches

on columns--Doorways--Windows--Rejection of ancient rules of

proportion--Efforts to improve construction and decoration in the

twelfth century--Absolute demand for an arch of less pressure and for

an abutment of greater resistance--_Ribbed_ as distinguished from

_arris_ vaulting--Reasons for adopting the former--Pointed arch as

effecting proportion Page 215

LECTURE VII.

The Rationale of Gothic Architecture--_continued_.

The bases of a thirteenth century church indicate the plan and

construction of the vaulting--The system of mouldings--Windows,

their development--Rationale of stained glass--A general principle

of ornamentation common to all good architecture--The roof--Secular

buildings--Cloth market Yprès--Warehouses, Nuremburg--Windows in

secular and ecclesiastical buildings--Trabeated architecture in

its truest forms--Fireplaces--Chimney-shafts--Oriel and Dormer

windows--Ceilings--Subordination of external design to internal

requirements--Designs adapted to the materials most readily

obtained--Conditions demanded of our future architecture--Gothic

architecture well fitted to unite these conditions Page 246

A Digression concerning Windows Page 276

LECTURE VIII.

On the Practical Study of Gothic Architecture.

Evident ignorance or neglect of those who practise Gothic

architecture--Faithfulness of others--The styles should be learned

from ancient buildings--Our knowledge to be continually revived

and added to--Hints to students--The study of Lincoln Cathedral,

Canterbury Cathedral, and examples in London--Libraries and museums

in London--Foreign travel--Examples in Paris, and other parts of

France--Germany, Italy, Spain, etc. etc. Page 290

LECTURE IX.

On the Study and Practice of Gothic Architecture.

Every-day business and practical work to go on _hand in hand_ with

the study of ancient buildings--How best to be accomplished--The

study _from books_--Artistic and archæological portions cannot be

wholly disconnected--Heraldry--A knowledge of the history of art

absolutely necessary for the study of Mediæval architecture--Greek

art the parent of Gothic sculpture--Ruined cities of Central

Syria--Mahometan styles--Our own form of church the direct

inheritance from the earliest Christian temples--Training _as

artists_--Choice among specimens of different Mediæval periods and

styles--Examples especially recommended--Practical studies of ancient

buildings in connection with their _structural_ and _mechanical_

qualities--Vaulting--Timber-work--Stone-work, etc. etc.--The _actual

practice_ of Mediæval architecture--The _repairs_ and _restoration_ of

ancient buildings Page 331

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CONTAINED IN VOL. I.

FIG.

Ely Cathedral. Western Porch _Frontispiece._

PAGE

1-14. Diagrams explanatory of the various systems of Romanesque

Vaulting 52-63

15. St. Denis. Interior of one of the Apsidal Chapels 78

16. Do. Exterior of do. 79

17. Do. Part of Capital from do. 79

18. Greek. Acanthus, from the Choragic Monument to Lysicrates,

Athens 81

19. Roman Acanthus, from the Temple of Mars Ultor 81

20. St. Denis. Scroll from 82

21. Do. Part of a Cornice 82

22. St. Mark’s, Venice. Capital from the church of 83

23. St. John’s, Constantinople. Do. do. 83

24. St. Frond, Perigueux. Do. do. 83

25. Do. do. Fragment of do. 83

26. Column of Marcion, Constantinople. Capital from 84

27. St. Germain des Pres, Paris. Do. 85

28. Lincoln Cathedral (north-west Portal). Capitals from 85

29-33. Chartres. Enriched shafts from 86

34. Cathedral of Noyon. Interior of one of the Apsidal Chapels 89

35. Do. Exterior of do. 89

36. Do. Plan of do. 89

37. St. Germain des Pres, Paris. Two Bays of Choir 92

38. Do. do. Western Doorway 93

39. Cathedral of Sens. Interior view 94

40. Cathedral of Sens. View of Choir Aisles 96

41-42. Do. Capitals from do. 97

43-46. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capitals from 98-100

47-48. Do. do. Carving from 101

49. St. Leu, near Creil. Capital from the Apse 101

50. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capital from the West Front 101

51. St. Eusèbe, Auxerre. Capital from 101

52. Noyon. Capital from the Apse 102

53. Laon. Capital from 102

54. Sens. do. 102

55. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capital from 102

56. Sainte Chapelle, Paris. do. 103

57. Do. part of Capital from 103

58. St. Remi, Rheims. Capital from 103

59. Fountains Abbey. View across Nave 104

60. Kirkstall Abbey. View of South Transept 105

61. Durham Cathedral. The Galilee 106

62. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Vestibule of Chapter-house. View

from Cloister 107

63. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Do. View

from Chapter-house _To face_ 108

64. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Plan of Vestibule of Chapter-house 108

65. York Cathedral. Archbishop’s Palace, Fragment of 109

66. Ripon Minster. Bay of Choir _To face_ 109

67. Ely Cathedral, South Transept. West end 110

68. St. Cross, near Winchester. Capital from 111

69. Canterbury Cathedral. View of Choir _To face_ 112

70. Do. Do. Trinity Chapel 112

71. Do. Capitals. William of Sens 112

72. Do. Trinity Chapel. Capital. William the

Englishman 113

73. Oakham Castle, Rutlandshire. Capital from 114

74. Chapel of St. Joseph of Arimathea, Glastonbury. Exterior

view 115

75. Chapel of St. Joseph of Arimathea, Glastonbury. Interior

view 116

76. St. David’s Cathedral. Internal bay of Nave _To face_ 117

77-78. Do. Capitals from 118

79. Temple Church, London. View of Circular Aisle 119

80. Chichester Cathedral. Do. Eastern part _To face_ 120

81. Tynemouth Abbey. The Choir “ 120

82. Hexham Abbey. South side of Choir 121

83. Bridlington Priory Church, Yorkshire. Capital from 122

84. Ripon Cathedral. Do. 123

85. Fountains Abbey. Do. 123

86. St. Cross, Hampshire. South Aisle of Choir 124

87. Durham Cathedral. Chapel of the Nine Altars _To face_ 140

88-91. Bases of Columns from Bridlington: St. Mary’s Abbey, York:

St. Stephen’s, Caen: Veselay: and Westminster Abbey 150-151

92-93. Sections of early Bases 152

94. Rollestone, Notts. Capital from 154

95. Chartres. Specimens of carving from 154

96. Southwell Minster. Capital, etc., from 154

97. St. Quentin, Aisne. Capital with angular Abacus 156

98. Canterbury Cathedral. Capital from Crypt 157

99-102. Moulded Capitals from Salisbury, St. Alban’s and Westminster,

with sections 157-158

103-107. Base Moulds of Buildings 164

108. St. Alban’s Cathedral. Ornament in Western Portals 167

109. Do. Western Portals, south entrance _To face_ 167

110. Temple Church, London. View of Choir 173

111. Chapel of St. John Baptist, Westminster Abbey. Conventional

foliage 177

112. Do. do. Natural do. 178

113. Retabulum, or moveable Reredos, formerly belonging to the

High Altar, Westminster Abbey _To face_ 181

114. Iron grille, Queen Eleanor’s Tomb, Westminster Abbey 181

115. Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Ely Place, Holborn. Side Windows 183

116. Ely Cathedral. Western Porch. _Frontispiece._

117. Ely Cathedral. Eastern Front 190

118. Peterborough Cathedral. Circular Window, West Front 192

119. Peterborough Cathedral 193

120. Lincoln Cathedral. Rose-window North Transept 197

121. Do. View from the South-east 199

122. Do. South-east Portal _To face_ 198

123. Palais des Podestats, Orvieto, Italy. Domestic Windows 206

124. Torre di Santa, Ninfa, Palermo. Do. 206

125. Meslay, near Tours. Do. 207

126. Cluny. Houses at. Do. 207

127. Gostar. The Emperor’s House. Do. 207

128-129. Cologne. Houses at Do. 207

130. Gloucester. West Gateway, College Green. Do. 208

131-133. From an old building called Canute’s Castle, Southampton.

Domestic Windows 208

134. Moyse’s Hall, Bury St. Edmunds. Do. 208

135. Oakham Castle, Rutlandshire. Do. 209

136-137. Diagrams of Arches 223

138-140. Diagrams showing development of Piers 224

141-143. Diagrams illustrating the development of the Clustered

Column 226

144. St. Trophimus, Arles. Cloisters, north side 229

145. Bridlington Priory Church. Part of remains of Cloisters 230

146-147. Diagrams showing the effect on proportion by the introduction

of the Pointed Arch into Romanesque work 243

148. Laon Cathedral. Respond in Choir Aisle 248

149-151. Diagrams explaining the system of moulding 248

152. Cloth Market at Yprès _To face_ 262

153. Warehouses at Nuremburg 262

154-156. Diagrams concerning Windows 278

157. St. Pantaleon’s Church, Cologne 278

158. Burgh Church, Norfolk. Chancel, Window from 279

159-164. Diagrams of Rere-arches 280

165. Broughton Church, Oxfordshire. Window from 283

166. Christchurch, Hants. North Transept, do. 283

167. Stone Church, Kent. do. 284

168. Chancel, Brecon Priory 285

169. Winchester Cathedral. De Lucy’s work 286

170. Furness Abbey. Bay of Chapter-house 287

171. Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Holborn. West Window _To face_ 287

172. Do. do. East do. “ 287

173. Salisbury Cathedral. Chapter-house 288

174. Lincoln Cathedral. Easter Sepulchre 305

175. Do. Capitals north side of Choir 306

176-177. Westminster Abbey. Carved Capitals from 311

178-179. Westminster Abbey. Angels, from the Triforium of the

South Transept 312

180. Westminster Abbey. Mosaic from the Tomb of the Children

of Henry III. and Edward I. 313

181. Temple Church, London. Capitals, West Door 314

182. Montmartre. Capitals from 319

183. St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. Plan of Choir 320

184. Do. View of Choir 321

185. Do. South Aisle of Choir 322

186. Do. Chapel, south side of Choir 323

187-188. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Western Portals. Corbels from 324

189-191. St. Martin aux Champs, Paris. Capitals from 325

192. El Barah, Central Syria. Capital from 336

ERRATA.

Page 81, Fig. 19, _for_ Temple of Mars, Ultor,

_read_ Temple of Mars Ultor.

“ 94, line 26, _for_ Choir at the Trinity Chapel,

_read_ Choir and the Trinity Chapel.

“ 170, Contents, line 6, _for_ Stanford, _read_ Stamford.

“ 175, foot-note, _for_ Beavais, _read_ Beauvais.

MEDIÆVAL ARCHITECTURE.

LECTURE I.

The Claims of Mediæval Architecture upon our Study.

Introduction--Art follows the course of civilisation--Three _primâ

facie_ claims Gothic Architecture has upon Study--Additional claim,

that it is Christian Architecture--Objections to the

title--Explanations of the term--Byzantine the earliest Christian

style--Summary of the Historical claims of Mediæval

Architecture--Its intrinsic claims--Abstract beauty--Advantages of

an arcuated over a trabeated style--Facility in decorating

construction, and in converting structural features into elements

of beauty--Adaptability to varied climates--Unites all arts in

one--Painted glass--Sculpture--Foliated sculpture--Gothic

Architecture suited to the severest and most elegant styles--Beauty

of external outline--Delicacy of mouldings--Religious solemnity of

the interior of its temples--The spirit with which the study of

Mediæval Architecture should be undertaken--How to be

pursued--Practical objects for which it should be followed up.

It is with feelings somewhat closely bordering upon trepidation that,

availing myself of the liberty given by the regulations recently passed

by the Council of the Royal Academy, I venture to address you on a

subject which has never, till now, been more than incidentally touched

upon within these walls; a subject, indeed, dear to my heart, and

entwined among my inmost thoughts and affections, but one which, perhaps

for that very reason, I feel it the more difficult to bring before you

through the medium of a lecture. It may be at first sight imagined that

love, of all the human feelings, is that best calculated to aid in

describing the beauties of its object, and in advocating its claims upon

the admiration; but it is not so. We can hardly state the reasons why we

love our parents or our brothers. We know that it is a feeling which has

grown with our growth, and is a part of our very existence; yet it is

probable that an acquaintance who has never shared in these warmer

sentiments might describe their character and even their virtues more

successfully than ourselves. If we seek to investigate them, we find the

research all too cold and too methodical to accord with the tone of our

feelings; and, like the poet who wished to sing of the Atrides and of

Cadmus, the chords of our hearts respond only of love.

So it is with those who have harboured an early affection for the

architecture of their native land. Strongly as I appreciate the

intrinsic beauty of the monuments of classic antiquity, and the merits

of very many works of the Revival, I should doubt whether it were

possible for any unsophisticated youth, before studying their

architecture as a science, to entertain towards its productions in this

country any feelings bordering upon real affection. He may see in them

much to admire--much to lead him to study the art which has produced

them; and this study will, no doubt, often kindle those warmer feelings

which ripen into love. But this is a very different feeling from that

deep and filial affection which many a youth, untaught in art, but

gifted by nature with a perception of its beauties, has entertained from

his tenderest years towards the old churches of his neighbourhood, and

which has impelled him to walk from village to village, not only under

the balmy influences of summer, but along muddy roads or snowy paths,

and, with glowing heart but shivering hand, to sketch the humble porch,

the unaspiring steeple, and the mutilated though venerable monument,

with feelings of indescribable delight.

It is this instinctive affection which it is so difficult to reason

upon, and to which cold investigation seems so uncongenial; yet most

pleasant it is, in after life, to find ever new proof that our early

feelings have not been misplaced; that those once callous warm up when

they are led to examine; that those who, strange to say, disliked the

architecture of their forefathers, are now forced to admit some of its

beauties; that the style, once despised, has become gradually

appreciated, and its study become the favourite pursuit of

thousands--every county having its society organised to promote it; that

in every country in which it once flourished (Italy herself not

excepted), the same revived feeling towards it has arisen; and, finally,

that this distinguished Academy has stamped it as equally classic with

the architecture of the ancient world, and admitted it to an equal place

in the instructions offered to her students.

Having found it impracticable, from previous engagements, to give, as

had been kindly suggested to me, a short course of lectures during this

season, I propose on the present occasion to limit myself to some

introductory remarks on the study of Mediæval architecture, which I

trust, with the kind permission of the Council, to follow up next year

by one or two further lectures, both upon its original productions, and

upon the bearing of the study of them upon our own practice and the

architecture of the future.

I will commence by considering the different claims which Pointed

architecture has upon our study.

The more carefully we examine into the subject, the stronger and the

more numerous do we find these claims to be. To a casual observer, the

interest we feel in the subject may appear to be the result of local

prejudice or of arbitrary choice, and our Mediæval styles may seem to

have no greater claim upon us than those of a hundred other periods or

countries. The fact, however, is the very reverse--that Pointed

architecture is marked out from others in the most signal and remarkable

manner. I will briefly point out some of the circumstances which thus

especially single it out.

In tracing the history of civilisation, we cannot fail to perceive that,

from the earliest ages to the present, it has followed one not unbroken,

yet connected stream, and though branches have struck off in different

directions, it has ever had one main channel, which at each period

represents the central mass of civilisation; this stream, passing now

through this country and now through that, but its place being nearly

always so marked as to leave no doubt as to where, in each succeeding

age, the main seat of civilisation is to be found. Art has in regular

succession followed in the same course--the main channel of civilisation

and art having been the same, though each possessing its minor branches.

The earliest seats of mental culture were the great valleys of Egypt

and Mesopotamia. There, too, were the cradles of primitive art. The less

enduring materials of the Eastern valley have deprived us of the remains

of its earlier architecture, but the imperishable ruins of Egypt will

tell till earth’s closing day how mighty was her primæval civilisation.

Persia seems to have succeeded to Egypt and Assyria as well in art as in

dominion; but long before her political power had been overthrown, the

stream of mental power had been transferred to Greece, whose arts and

knowledge, partly indigenous and partly derived from Egypt and Assyria,

so infinitely excelled all which had preceded them, that we are apt, and

with reason, to view them as the only genuine art and civilisation of

the ancient world.

Rome, succeeding Greece in external power, borrowed both her arts and

literature, but, throughout her whole career, was as subordinate to her

in these as she was predominant in power; and when that great

catastrophe occurred which crushed to dust the mighty fabric of Roman

domination, it was again in Greece that civilisation and art flowed on,

and it was thence that those friendly streams proceeded which enabled

the Gothic conquerors of Rome to reconstruct what they had destroyed,

and among the _débris_ of ancient art and knowledge to sow the seeds and

to foster the growth of that richer and mightier civilisation which

distinguishes the modern from the ancient world.

In all its earlier stages, the growth of civilisation in the modern, as

in the ancient world, was marked by corresponding changes in its

architecture. Each age had its architectural style distinctly and

strongly marked; a style which, though connecting itself unmistakeably

with the long chain of ancient art that, though rudely broken in the

West, had been continuous in the Eastern empire, was nevertheless so

distinct from any former link in that chain as clearly to mark a new

dynasty in human affairs, and to show that the stream which had passed

successively through Egypt, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome, was now

making wide and deep its channel among those Gothic nations whose

progenitors had been viewed as the enemies of art and knowledge, and

that the seat of art was henceforth to be established among those

vigorous races which had destroyed that of the ancient world.

My object in going over this well-beaten path is to draw your attention

to three very marked _primâ facie_ claims which Gothic architecture has

upon our study. Firstly, that, though we are in the habit of considering

it antiquated, it is in fact the architecture of the modern as

distinguished from the ancient world--that, just as the architecture of

the earlier half of the world’s history culminated in that of Greece,

which must ever be viewed as its most perfect and most glorious

representative, so did the indigenous architecture of the newer world

reach its culminating point in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries

among the nations of Western Europe--the depositaries of a new

civilisation. Secondly, that it is the architecture of the Germanic

nations, through whose land the main stream of civilisation now runs, as

of old it did through Greece, Egypt, and Rome. And, thirdly, that it is

the latest original style of architecture which the civilised world has

produced; that the chain of architectural styles, commencing in Egypt,

and passing on in continuous course through Assyria, Persia, Greece,

Rome, and Byzantium, and thence taken up by the infant nations of modern

Europe, and by them prolonged through successive ages of continuous

progress, terminated in the style which we are treating of, and has

never since produced another link of its own.

As, then, the architecture of Egypt claims our respect as the earliest

link in the history of architecture, so are our own Mediæval styles

especially marked out from all others as being its latest creation. That

continuous stream of indigenous art which from the earliest ages of the

world had unceasingly flowed onwards--now through this country, and now

through that; now smoothly flowing on through a deep and copious

channel, and now choked up with rocks, or spreading itself

sluggishly and unhealthily through marshes and morasses, but ever

progressing--seemed at the end of the period we are speaking of to turn

back upon its course, and, instead of creating as heretofore ever new

beauties of its own, to content itself with reproducing those of bygone

periods: instead of illustrating, as it were, the collateral stream of

civilisation which flowed on so mightily by its side, it accompanied it

by images of that of an older world--of another family of nations--of

another religion; and since then, though civilisation has rolled on in a

continuous course, it has failed to produce any style of architecture of

its own.

Mediæval architecture, then, is distinguished from all other styles as

being the _last_ link of the mighty chain which had stretched unbroken

through nearly 4000 years--the glorious termination of the history of

_original_ and _genuine_ architecture.

The next claim to which I will direct your attention is, that our style

is, _par excellence_, Christian architecture.

This is a claim which it is so much the fashion of the day to dispute,

and even to deride, that it demands somewhat careful investigation. Many

who have no hesitation in using the terms Mahometan, Hindoo, or Buddhist

architecture, and who do not in the least deny the influence of the

various religions of the ancients upon their modes of building, see

nothing but fanaticism in attributing any such influence to

Christianity; or if they do not deny this influence, they view Pointed

architecture as the special property of the Roman Church (though Rome

herself boasts of having scarcely admitted it within her walls), and

find no style to symbolise their Protestantism but that derived from the

heathenism of the ancient world, and whose more recent type is to be

found in the great metropolitan church of modern Rome.

Other more reasoning persons object that, as Christianity, in its purest

ages, adopted a modified form of the ancient Roman style, and bent it to

its uses, the Roman style became by that process a _bona fide_ Christian

architecture; and further argue that Pointed architecture, having

derived some of its forms from the Saracenic, has thereby lost its title

to being considered a purely Christian style.

To meet these objections, it is necessary to explain what we mean by

Christian architecture.

There can be no doubt that nearly all forms of architecture have taken

their rise in the temple, whose form and character have been regulated

by the religion for which it was erected. From the temple it has

diffused itself throughout all classes of buildings, carrying with it,

in a certain degree, the feeling it had already acquired. No one will

deny this of the Egyptian, the Greek, or the Saracenic; and so

inconsistent are people on such questions, that the very persons who

would laugh at the term “Christian architecture” will almost in the same

breath object to the use of our style for secular buildings, on the

ground that it will make them look like churches!

Now, what we claim for Pointed architecture is, not that it is the only

Christian style which has arisen or is likely to arise, but that it has

been more entirely developed under the influence of the Christian

religion, and more thoroughly carries out its tone and sentiment than

any other style. It is not exclusively, but _par eminence_, Christian.

The early Christians naturally adopted the style which was ready made to

their hands. That this style, as they found it, was essentially Pagan,

it would be absurd to deny; but it was the only one they knew; and,

carefully avoiding the types of Pagan temples, they adopted one of its

secular forms, and wholly adapted it to their uses. The buildings thus

produced were unmistakeably Christian, but it would be absurd to say so

of their style. This being nearly identical with that of their Heathen

predecessors, it needed a long course of remoulding before it could

justly be predicated of it that it was a Christian style--a style

generated under the influence of Christian customs, to fulfil Christian

requirements, and to harmonise fully with the sentiments of the

religion of those who made use of it.

The earliest style which may fairly be called Christian was the

Byzantine. In the East no sudden revolution had affected art or

civilisation, but the Greek empire, founded at the moment when

Christianity became the established religion, went on quietly adapting

its arts and institutions to its new religion. Art having already

degenerated under the later Pagan emperors, and difficulties both from

without and from within gradually weakening and undermining the power of

the State, it was natural that the changing style should not have that

full scope which would have been afforded it had the purifying

influences of Christianity acquired full sway during the Augustan age.

Painting, sculpture, and architectural carving had lamentably fallen off

before they were transferred from the Heathen temple to the Christian

church, and even the more mechanical features of Roman architecture had

departed widely from their original purity of form. The task prescribed

to the new religion was not to take the highest form of Pagan art as it

had existed under Pericles or Augustus, and to mould it to its own uses

and its own purer and holier sentiments: what she had to deal with was a

mere wreck of its former self: all its early simplicity destroyed, its

vigour enervated, its magic instinct for beauty gone, its artists fast

falling back into barbarism; and that not the savageness of early but

untutored art, but the effete and nerveless heartlessness of a race

whose glory had departed. It was this lifeless body which Christianity

had to awaken to new energy--this dull and spiritless lump out of which

she had to mould her future arts, and that at a time when the western

half of the empire was about to be crushed to powder by the mighty storm

of Northern barbarism, and the eastern portion itself weakened by

gradual decay and by the incursions of the Goths, Huns, Persians, etc.,

and eventually by the tremendous inundation of the followers of Mahomet.

That such a glorious result as Byzantine architecture should have been

produced out of materials so lifeless, and through the agency of a

decaying nation, speaks volumes for the power of religion over art.

Let us turn, however, to the Western empire. There the case is still

stronger. With the same decayed and lifeless art as their nucleus, the

people of Christian Rome had the additional disadvantage caused by the

removal of the seat of government, and with it of the seat of art, to

Constantinople; nevertheless, their first efforts were so successful,

that though, in the words of Thomas Hope, “The architecture of the

Heathen Romans, in its deterioration, followed so regular a course, that

that which most nearly preceded the conversion of its rulers to

Christianity is also the worst,”--the same author tells us that “the

early Christian buildings, from their simplicity, the distinctness, the

magnificence, the harmony of their component parts, had a grandeur which

we seek in vain in the complicated architecture of modern churches.”

What course art would have taken had the Roman empire continued it is

impossible to judge. It was destined to share the fate of the empire

itself, and to be utterly overwhelmed by that mighty deluge which severs

the ancient from the modern world; so that its Christianisation,

instead of being gradual and progressive, as in the East, became a

complete reconstruction by the successors of those who had destroyed it,

though aided in their work by the friendly hands of those who, in the

Eastern empire, had kept alight the lamp of civilisation.[1] The

architecture of the West, therefore, instead of being a mere translation

of the old style from Pagan to Christian uses and expression, was a new

creation, formed, it is true, out of the ancient _débris_, but

nevertheless originated, carried on, and perfected by Christian nations

and for Christian uses, and may, consequently, be said, even in a

stronger sense than that of Byzantium, to be a distinct Christian style;

and I suppose none would doubt that its culminating point, and that to

which all its progress tended, was the Pointed architecture of the

thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

An argument against its claim to the title has been founded on the

theory that the Pointed arch, which is, in some respects, the

culminating feature of the style, was not developed spontaneously by

our Christian forefathers, but learned by them from the Saracens. As

well might it be attempted to sever Grecian architecture from the

mythology and traditions of the Greeks, merely because some of its

details may find their prototypes in Egypt or Assyria, or to disconnect

the native architecture of India from their religion, because its first

inspiration seems traceable to the Fire-worshippers of ancient Persia!

Even Saracenic architecture itself was an emanation from that of

Christian Greece; so that _if_ we are indebted to it for the Pointed

arch (a question which I will not now attempt to investigate), she only

paid back to the religion from which she had borrowed. No one, however,

can study the tendencies of the late Romanesque without seeing that the

Pointed arch was becoming every day more necessary to the development of

the germ which the rising style contained. The gradually increasing

predominance of the vertical over the horizontal, the increase in the

height of pillars and jambs demanding a proportionate addition to the

arch; the necessities of groined vaulting over oblong spaces, and a

hundred other evidences, proved the Pointed arch to be the inevitable

result of the already attained developments; and often had it, almost

unconsciously, appeared in intersecting arcades. If its systematic

adoption can with certainty be traced to the suggestive architecture of

the East, surely this does not unchristianise the already Christian

architecture of the soldiers of the Cross, who brought the idea home

among the spoils won from their unbelieving foes! Is it not rather in

the spirit of our religion to receive tribute and homage from all the

nations of the earth? And if it may be said of the Christian Church

that

“Eastern Java there

Kneels with the native of the farthest west;

And Æthiopia spreads abroad the hand,

And worships,”

it is equally reasonable to expect of her material temples that

“The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Ind,

And Saba’s spicy groves, pay tribute there.”

The character of a style of art does not depend upon the mere material

from which it has been fabricated, but upon the sentiments under which

it has been developed. Were not this the case, all styles, excepting,

perhaps, those in China and Central America, with a few others still

more obscure, would be more or less connected with the religion of Egypt

or of Nineveh; whereas, in fact, every race up to the sixteenth century,

had so moulded the original materials upon which its arts had been

founded as to render them expressive, in a great degree, of their own

sentiments, and especially of their own religion; and more strongly than

in any other case was it so with our own forefathers, when developing

the latest of all styles of genuine architecture, and moulding it to

harmonise with the sentiment of our holy religion.

The last of the historical claims of Pointed architecture to which I

will call your attention is, that it is the native architecture of our

own country, and that of our own forefathers. Here, again, I must define

my meaning for the sake of meeting a class of objectors who delight to

attach a false and exaggerated meaning to an expression.

I do not, then, mean that Pointed architecture belongs to us in any

different sense from that in which it belongs to France or Germany: I do

not mean to revive the claims of our country to its origination, nor to

assert in its behalf any pre-eminent share in its development. All I

mean to urge is the simple fact that, by whatever members of our family

of nations it was shared, it was, nevertheless, the architecture of our

own country--just as much English as we are ourselves--as indigenous to

our country as are our wild flowers, our family names, our customs, or

our political constitution.

In England, as in France and Germany, the same Romanesque architecture

had (with local varieties) grown up with the new civilisation; as it

perfected itself it showed in each the same tendencies and the same

yearnings, which Pointed architecture could alone satisfy. If it were so

that these were at length met by suggestions from the East, it was our

forefathers who fought there side by side with those of our neighbours,

and the lessons learned and the trophies won were common property. It is

possible that France was more rapid in making use of them, and it is

certain that Germany was the most tardy in doing so; but in each the

result had long been aimed at; in each it was the natural consequence of

what had already been attained; and was therefore not the property of

one, but the common inheritance of all; and each having attained it,

carried it on and developed it in her own way, thus making it in every

sense her own.

I am, however, only urging this as a claim which our old architecture

has upon our own study. If we investigate the architecture of Egypt, of

Assyria, or of Persia, we find that it tells of races with whom we have

no national or personal sympathy. If we go to the classic shores of

Greece, though there we should be viewing the work of a race whose arts

and literature are, more than those of any other people, the property of

the world, we nevertheless fail to find anything to connect them in any

special sense with ourselves. If we transfer our researches from Greece

to Rome--though we now view the vestiges of that mighty empire whose

world-wide sway stretched its iron sceptre over our own land, and though

we find among them the germ of the arcuated architecture which forms the

nucleus of our own styles--they are still severed from us by so wide a

gulf that, were it not for the modern revival of their style, they would

appear perfectly alien to our race and climate. All these studies must

be followed up in distant lands, excepting only those few fragments of

Roman work scattered here and there in our own and neighbouring

countries--the evidences of universal empire, the footsteps and symbols

of ancient servitude. How different is the study of Gothic architecture!

Its original exemplars are at our own doors; the very churches, perhaps,

in which from our infancy we have worshipped; the monuments of our own

forefathers; the works of men bearing our own names, whose armorial

badges we are still proud to use; who spoke, in its pristine form, our

own language; who sat in our own Parliaments, were lords of

still-existing manors, founders of still-surviving charities, men who

fought the battles of which we are still proud, and laid the foundations

of our liberties and of all those institutions which render the name of

England illustrious among the nations of the earth. Surely the

architecture which grew up among men so nearly allied to us has a

pre-eminent claim upon our attention!

I have thus traced out what appear to me to be the leading historical

claims of the style we are treating of, and which I will recapitulate as

being--

1stly. That it is the architecture of the modern, as distinguished

from the ancient world.

2dly. That it is the architecture of the nations wholly or

partially of Germanic origin, in whose hands the civilisation of

the modern world has been vested.

3dly. That it is the latest link in the chain of genuine and

original styles of architecture, a chain commencing with the first

settlement of the human race, and terminating in Gothic

architecture.

4thly. That it is, in a stronger sense than can be predicated of

any other style, Christian architecture.

5thly, and lastly. That it is pre-eminently the architecture of our

own forefathers and of our own land.

I will now proceed to direct your attention to some of the more

prominent among its _intrinsic_ claims.

Commencing, then, with its abstract beauty, I will not treat this as a

comparative, but as a positive, quality. Differences of taste and

education lead us to form varied estimates of the relative merits of the

several styles of art, but the most devoted follower of classic

antiquity could scarcely question the absolute and intrinsic beauty of a

Gothic cathedral. Every style of architecture has had its own glories.

The mighty Hall at Karnac; the Hall of Xerxes at Persepolis; that model

of symmetry, the Parthenon; the Coliseum at Rome; and that gorgeous

congeries of domes which canopied the shrine of Holy Wisdom at

Constantinople, all rank among the most noble of the works of man; but

who is there so prejudiced as to deny the worthiness of those glorious

temples which preside in august serenity over the cities of Northern

Europe to an equal place in our admiration? Surely, if abstract beauty

and intrinsic grandeur alone are considered, the cathedrals of Amiens,

of Rheims, of Chartres, of Bourges, of Strasburg, of Cologne, of

Lincoln, Salisbury, or York, with a hundred others, will not suffer by

comparison with the works of any previous age? Nay, I am convinced that

an unprejudiced umpire would go much further, and pronounce them in most

respects far superior to the works of earlier ages; but my argument only

requires that they should be admitted as their equals.

The next claim I will state is this--that as trabeated architecture was

brought to its highest perfection by the Greeks, so the other great type

of construction, arcuated architecture, was perfected by the Mediæval

builders; the round-arch variety in the twelfth, and the pointed-arch in

the two succeeding centuries. No one who gives the subject a moment’s

consideration will doubt the enormous advantages of the arcuated over

the trabeated system: indeed, with the materials we have at command in

this country, the former style in its purity is in most cases

impracticable, as is shown by half our modern attempts at it being in

reality arcuation plastered over to look like trabeation.

The peculiar advantages of the pointed arch (though I do not urge them

to the exclusion of other forms) are its greater power of carrying

weight; its lessened thrust; the facility with which it proportions its

height to that of its supporting jambs, and the general feeling of the

building in which it is used, whether more or less vertical in its

tendency; and its great advantages in groined vaulting.

Lectures on the rise and development of medieval architecture; vol. 1 · 第 1 / 22 段