completed by Bishop Hugh before the close of the twelfth century,
and which, though of early character, are decidedly not
transitional, but developed Early Pointed.
2d. The western portals at St. Alban’s, built by William de Cella
between the years 1195 and 1205.[31]
These are among the most beautiful Early English works in the
kingdom, and have no Romanesque reminiscences, nor any French
characteristics, except the _crochet_ capital, which is
magnificently developed beneath round abaci.
3d. The eastern chapels at Winchester, built by Bishop de Lucy
about 1204. These have no striking feature, excepting that they are
pure “Early English,” and even show suggestions of tracery.
4th. The Galilee porch at Ely, built by Bishop Eustacious, who held
the see from about 1195 to 1214, and which is one of the most
magnificent specimens of the fully-developed style in the
country.[32] It has the _crochet_ capital gorgeously enriched, not
with French, but English conventional foliage; while the arch
mouldings are filled with the most exquisite foliage of pure Early
English character.[33]
Thus we see that though the French preceded us in the commencement of
their transition, our own was, with very trifling exceptions, equally
national with theirs, and that it was not only completed as soon, but
that it was carried through to a style more distinctive, and fully as
national as the glorious Early Pointed of France.
On this subject I will only add one remark: Early as were the first
French developments compared with ours; long as was the interval of
stagnation between St. Denis and St. Germain des Pres; many as were the
steps between the stages of the transition in both countries, and many
more before we had developed out of it that Pointed style we know as the
“Early English,” with its lancet windows and round abaci; the whole was,
nevertheless, carried through within the period of _one lifetime_. Not
only were the transitions of France and England carried on to perfection
under contemporary monarchs, but that queen who was present at the
consecration of Suger’s precocious monument, who caused that subsequent
stagnation by her frivolity, and who perhaps witnessed the completion of
St. Cross during her long captivity at Winchester, actually lived there
long enough to have seen the fully-developed Early English of De Lucy’s
chapels in the neighbouring cathedral.
The length to which my remarks on the French and English transition have
been necessarily extended has compelled me to limit what I hoped to have
said on that of Germany to a very few observations.
I have already mentioned the extraordinary tardiness of the Germans in
relinquishing their much-loved Romanesque. I am not prepared, as in the
case of French and English buildings, to trace out the first appearance
of the pointed arch, and I have no doubt that there are numerous
instances of its use at an earlier date; but there is nothing like a
transition into the pointed-arch _style_ till the commencement of the
thirteenth century--after it had been completed both in England and
France. Nevertheless, the German transition is as distinctly national
and as evident an offspring of their own Romanesque as that of France or
England; indeed, it is so peculiar as to appear, at first sight, to have
little in connection with the architecture of either of those
countries, and is usually spoken of as being only a slight variety upon
German Romanesque. Let any one look at a few of its leading
productions--as St. Martin, St. Gereon, and a few others at Cologne; the
churches at Neuss near Dusseldorf, Limburg on the Lahn, Zinzig, or
Gelnhaussen; the western façades at Andernach, Xanten, St. Sibald at
Nuremberg, and at Halberstadt, the east end of Magdeburg, or at the
representations of the cloisters (now destroyed) of St. Gereon, or
Altenberg, or at any of the multitudinous list of German churches of the
first quarter of the thirteenth century--and he will at once see that
they present as natural and logical a transition from their own national
Romanesque as the works of Suger do from that of the royal domain of
France. The use of the _crochet_ capitals in some of the later examples
is the solitary instance of any direct imitation of the already
perfected transition in the neighbouring countries.
The great misfortune of the German transition was that it occurred so
late that, before they could perfect it, the French had passed into the
second stage of their developed Pointed, and had worked out the great
problem of window tracery. The consequence was that German patience at
length gave way;--they relinquished their transition just as they were
perfecting a Pointed style of their own, and, throwing themselves almost
wholly into the hands of the French, passed at one step from their own
curious and characteristic art into the fully-developed style of Amiens
and Beauvais.
Mr. Fergusson laments this as having prevented the development of a
perfect _round-arched_ style; but it must be recollected that the
round-arched style of Germany had been almost entirely relinquished
previously to the succumbing of their national architecture before the
dominant star of France: the loss, then, we have to lament is not that
it prevented a more perfect round-arched development, but that it
suspended, when on the eve of being perfected, the formation of a really
national German variety of the _pointed-arched_ style; and though they
did much to remedy this, it unquestionably rendered their architecture
for the next century in some degree a German version of French style.
I have, however, dwelt so long upon the mere history of the transition
that I have had no time to extract any useful practical lessons from the
changes in art we have been tracing out. What, then, are the leading
lessons they suggest?
1st, They show us how absolute must have been the necessity in
generating a perfect arcuated style, to cast away the slavery--I will
not say of the round arch, for it is one of the most genuine and useful
forms--but of the adherence to one unchanging form in the arch,
admitting of no variation in its proportion of height to span, nor any
change of form suited to its statical duties, or its geometrical or
æsthetical position.
2d, They suggest encouragement in the task of working out a style suited
to the exigencies of our day, by showing how vast are the results to be
anticipated when not only the artists, but when the rulers, the nobles,
the ecclesiastics of a country thoroughly set themselves to the task
with one heart and one mind, and work on together with all their zeal,
energy, and perseverance, till they have insured the great object of
their designs. Would that we could see some equivalent effort in our own
country and in our own day!
In the age we have been treating of, the previous architecture, though
in a great degree original, retained elements derived from the
degenerated Roman, and others belonging to the ages of darkness and
barbarism which succeeded; but, by the effort we have been chronicling,
both these elements were thrown off, and the style came forth like gold
tried in the fire--pure and refined.
3d, We may learn a lesson of _patience_ from what we have reviewed.
Those of us who have been endeavouring to generate a style on the basis
of the architecture of our own family of nations, have been often
taunted with the slowness of our progress. Now, it is scarcely twenty
years since we set earnestly about the task; and, rapid as the
transition in the twelfth century appears, we have seen an interval of
twenty years in its history in which we can trace no progress at all;
which, with all our deficiencies, can hardly be said of us during a
corresponding period. Let us, then, take courage, and press forward in
spite of temporary discouragement, and in the end a like success may
crown our labours.
4th, It has often been spoken of as a vice to be too fond of studying
_transitional_ styles. This may possibly be true as regards taking them
as our models; but I hold the very contrary to be the case as to
selecting them as special objects of study. They are the very periods of
intellectual energy--the moments of the most intense effort of the human
mind. From them we learn what zeal, what determination, what strength
of will, what unity of purpose, what patient perseverance are required
in working out a great good. The result of the mighty struggle was that,
freed from every barbaric or lifeless element, our architects commenced
the next century with their course clearly open before them, everything
in their power, and no hindrance to the attainment of their object.
Would that we could say this of ourselves, whatever may be our views as
to _style_!
5th, Then, again, in the style itself of the buildings we have been
considering there is much for us to learn. They possess a masculine
grandeur, a noble sturdiness of character, an independence of ornament
united with a grateful acceptance of its aid, which would supply a
wholesome element to any style. A perfected style is often defective in
these characteristics. It is toned down to too perfect a symmetry--a too
nicely weighed balance of parts: the whole may suggest nothing but
harmony, yet the parts are too much lost in the whole; there is too much
of the satiety of attainment, and not enough of the excitement of the
effort after perfection. The first developments of Pointed architecture
produce an excitement on the mind which more perfected examples do not
give rise to, and it seems to me that they contain elements which we
should not do amiss to instil into our works, as I may have occasion to
suggest more practically, if I should continue my course of lectures in
this place.
6th, There is something to be learned from the curious history I have
traced out of the re-introduction of one classic element--the Corinthian
capital--at the moment when all other relics of the architecture of the
old world were about to be thrown off. It is a kind of parallel to the
revival of classic literature at the same period, on which M. Viollet le
Duc remarks:--“It is precisely at the moment when the researches into
antique letters, sciences, philosophy, and legislation were pursued with
ardour--during the twelfth century--that architecture abandoned the last
remnants of antique tradition, to found a new art whose principles are
in manifest opposition to those of the arts of antiquity.” “Are we,
then,” he proceeds, “to conclude from this that the men of the twelfth
century were not consistent with themselves? Quite the contrary; but
that which distinguishes the Renaissance of the twelfth from that of the
sixteenth century, is this--that the former penetrates into the antique
_spirit_, while the latter allows itself to be seduced by the _form_.”
The Corinthian capital stood alone among the details of ancient
architecture, as being founded on principles of beauty common to all
_ages_. It was foreshadowed in the works of their earliest predecessors,
the Egyptians, and had suggested the forms for the capitals used in all
succeeding styles, whether by the Byzantines, the Sassanians, the
Saracens, or the Gothic conquerors of Rome. It was, then, consistent
that, while about to purge their arts of mere dead rudimental relics of
ancient art, this one feature should be revived as a nucleus for
development. The same may be said of the pointed arch, if the theory be
true of its Saracenic suggestion. It had been invented in very early
times, perhaps earlier than even the round arch, though its uses were
not then appreciated. The Romanesque builders had adopted many dead
forms of ornament from Saracenic and Persian manufactures, and the
introduction of this one really living feature at the moment when the
exigencies of the style demanded it (whether the idea occurred to them
spontaneously or by suggestion) was the signal for throwing off, as
effete and useless, all the Orientalisms which they already had in use.
From this we may learn not to shrink from adopting into our developments
external suggestions from whatever source, provided only that they
approve themselves to our eye and our intellect as legitimate sources of
beauty, or aids to construction, and as capable of being harmonised with
the style we are working out. Let us throw them boldly into the
fining-pot, and if we are skilful manipulators, the gold will remain and
the dross be thrown off.
Another thing we may learn is, that the mere precedence of one nation in
the working out of a style does not deprive the developments of
neighbouring countries of the claims of nationality. The English
transition began a little later than the French, and it is, as we have
seen, distinctly marked in its character and its results, so that no one
can ever mistake an English building for a French one.
The German transition came on after the English and French were
perfected, yet is (if anything) even more national than our own; while
the Italian Gothic, though an absolute importation, and often defective
in detail, has more strongly-marked national characteristics than any
other.[34]
When, however, we use the term “national,” we do not usually refer to
these local varieties, but rather wish to express the general fact that,
in our own country and amidst the family of European nations, those
styles which were generated during the rise of our own civilisation are
more national than the revived architecture of the ancient world. Each
country has its own local variety; but the whole is one style, and that
style is our own. While reviving this style, then, though we make in
each country our own phase of it our groundwork, we must not permit
either the narrow prejudices of friends, or the taunts of critics, to
lead us into the folly of rejecting any of the really noble and valuable
elements of our style, in whatever country they may have been generated.
I will close my too protracted lecture with a quotation from that
admirable writer and accomplished architect I have so often referred to.
He thus describes the leading practical principles of the architecture
to which the transition we have been tracing out was the pioneer:--
“From the commencement of the thirteenth century architecture developed
itself after a method completely new, in which all the parts deduced
themselves--the one from the other--with an imperious rigour. Now, it is
by the change of method that revolutions in sciences and arts commence.
The construction commands the form; the piers destined to bear several
arches divide themselves into as many columns as there are arches;
these columns are of a diameter more or less substantial, according to
the load which will rest upon them, rising side by side with them to the
vaults which they have to sustain, their capitals assuming an importance
proportioned to this charge. The arches are slight or thick, composed of
one or more ranges of voussoirs, as dictated by their function. The
walls, becoming unnecessary, in great structures disappear completely,
and are replaced by window-openings decorated with stained glass. Every
necessity becomes a motive of decoration. The roofs, the leading off of
the water, the introduction of light, the means of access and
circulation to the different stages of the building--even less important
matters, such as iron-work, lead-work, ties, props, the means of warming
and ventilation, not only are not concealed, as is so often done in our
buildings since the sixteenth century, but are, on the contrary, frankly
acknowledged, and contribute, by their ingenious combination and the
taste which ever presides over their execution, to the enrichment of the
architecture.[35] In a beautiful edifice of the commencement of the
thirteenth century, splendid as we may think it, there is not an
ornament to be spared, for each ornament is but the consequence of
requirement satisfied.”
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.
In the two lectures I delivered during the last session, my object was
to trace out the development of Pointed architecture from the Romanesque
nucleus of the preceding age; to show how far this was the result of
constructional necessities and the natural progression of art, and how
far it was aided and furthered by external influences; and to illustrate
the unity and grandeur of the artistic movement which, in so short a
time, generated an art at once so original and so truly noble. My object
on the present occasion will be to give a general sketch of that art
when it had arrived at its culminating point, or rather during that
wonderful century through which it reigned triumphant, rejoicing in the
full attainment of the object of its strivings, and, proceeding from
strength to strength and from beauty to beauty, filled the countries of
Western Europe with creations at once new to art, and in many respects
nobler than anything the world had previously seen.
Though it is convenient to classify our Mediæval architecture under
heads of centuries, its points of change do not, in reality, coincide
with such a division. It would, perhaps, be nearer to the fact if we
classed the last quarter in each century with that which follows: thus,
in this country the Norman style would be supposed, roughly speaking, to
occupy the interval between 1075 and 1175; the Early Pointed style from
thence to 1275; the Middle or Decorated periods from 1275 to 1375; and
so on.
On this view of the case, a great deal of what I treated of in my last
lecture belongs artistically to the present one, and a portion of what I
am embracing under the head of the thirteenth century would better go
with the fourteenth. As, however, I should wish to be as comprehensive
as possible in defining the period of the unimpaired integrity of the
style, I gladly extend it to the very end of the century, and will not
quarrel with those who would dip a little into the succeeding one; for,
though I prefer the strength and boldness of the works of the earlier
part of the century, the style can hardly be regarded as complete if
deprived of the more delicate productions which characterise its close.
In my last lecture I showed how, both in France and England, the last
quarter of the twelfth century was occupied in bringing the earlier
phase of Pointed architecture from a state of mere transition to one of
full development and consistency, and how that the works of this period
of especial earnestness in onward striding are characterised by a
masculine vigour, scarcely equalled at any other stage.
We have now to view the Early Pointed style at the period of the full
attainment of its aims, and when its endeavours were rather to amplify
and to extend its means than to construct a style.
The thirteenth century commenced under the most favourable auspices for
the development of the newly-created architecture. In France, both the
secular and the ecclesiastical powers were in the highest state of
prosperity; and if in England such was not the case with the Crown, and
we were checked by a bad and mean-spirited King, it is clear that both
the Barons and the Church were in a state of high prosperity, for, from
the very opening of the century, we find works on the grandest scale to
have been everywhere undertaken. Whether in the castle, the palace, the
cathedral, the monastery, or the parish church, we find the
newly-developed style to have been put largely into practice, so that
scarcely a building of note fails to show the impress of the youthful
art. Every great church must have its share of it; thus, at Canterbury,
though they had just completed the eastern half in the style of the
transition, the cloisters were added in the perfected manner. At York,
again, the choir had been rebuilt in the last half of the preceding
century; but the perfected style must have its sway, so the Norman
transepts were rebuilt in it. At Lincoln the transformation of style had
commenced under St. Hugh before the close of the twelfth century, and
before 1280, but small vestiges of the Norman structure remained. At Ely
the century commenced with the building of the western porch, which was
followed up by the magnificent eastern arm of the cathedral. At St.
Alban’s the gigantic Norman church had not been completed much more
than half a century before its western façade was demolished and
recommenced in the new style, in which one-half of the nave partook; and
before the thirteenth century was finished the choir had also been
rebuilt. At Durham the Norman church received the magnificent addition
of the Chapel of the Nine Altars: at Fountains a similar addition was
made, with an entirely new choir and many noble appendages. Wells
Cathedral was almost rebuilt in the new style. Indeed, it is scarcely
possible to single out any great church which does not more or less
evince the influence of the great architectural movement which ushered
in the thirteenth century. Its most complete work is the cathedral at
Salisbury; and among its later creations we may enumerate the eastern
portion of Westminster Abbey, the whole of Tintern Abbey, and the
greater part of the once sumptuous church of St. Mary’s Abbey, at York;
while its last decade produced some of the most exquisite gems of art,
such as the tombs of Crouchback, of De Luda, and of Archbishop Peckham;
the chapel of Ely Place, Holborn, and the Eleanor Crosses; so that,
taken as a whole, the century can claim most of the noblest, as well as
of the most elegant, productions of English art.
In France its pre-eminence is, if possible, yet more manifest. The
century opened there under the fully established power of Philip
Augustus, the most powerful monarch who had ruled France since the days
of Charlemagne. In the days of his predecessor the English King had
governed more French provinces than the King of France himself; but now
the English
[Illustration: Fig. 87.--Chapel of Nine Altars, Durham.]
were almost entirely expelled, and this mighty monarch reigned without a
rival. In his days commenced an almost general rebuilding (wholly or in
part) of the cathedrals, excepting such as were of very recent date. The
west façade of Nôtre Dame at Paris, the greater part of Rouen, of
Rheims, of Amiens, of Coutance, of Bourges, the eastern half of Le Mans,
and a list far too long to be enumerated, owe their grandeur to his
reign, or those immediately following.
Towards the middle of the century the same work progressed gloriously
under the auspices of St. Louis, and though slackened from actual
satiety towards the close of the century, it was not really checked till
the commencement of the English war.