highest order at the commencement, and the most delicate beauty at the
close of the century, while during its middle portion the two are united
in the works of St. Louis. In Germany the works of this century evince
great artistic disturbance. The change from the round to the
pointed-arch style had been there resisted, while both in France and
England it had been worked out to maturity. At the opening of the
century, German architecture consisted of a highly-refined variety of
Romanesque, with the partial use of the pointed arch, chiefly where
suggested by constructional necessities. This, during the first quarter
or more of the century, developed itself into an Early Pointed style,
strictly German, and holding out promises of great force and
originality--promises which were frustrated by the sudden inroad of
French Gothic about 1250, after which, though Germany took a course
still very much her own, it was one in a great degree severed from her
noble early tradition, and emanating from the French graft rather than
from the original stem.
Italy received her Pointed architecture from France and Germany, and
mingled it freely with her Classico-Lombardic traditions. The union
produced many noble and many incongruous developments. The lessons they
offer must be used with caution; but Italy being the land of ancient
art, the land of sculpture, of painting, of rich marbles, of mosaic
work, and of municipal and other civic edifices, the graft of Northern
art upon so prolific a stock has, as may readily be imagined, produced
varieties which the circumstances of Northern nations would have
rendered impracticable in its native lands; and the suggestions they
offer, if judiciously used, are well calculated to add copiousness to
the style in the hands of its modern revivers. Of this I may have
occasion to say more hereafter.
The thirteenth century was to Mediæval art what the Periclean and
Augustan ages were to the Greek and Roman; and in each case, though war
and bloodshed are in themselves hostile to art, there can be no doubt
that the excitement of the human mind, resulting from great national
struggles, has tended to produce that advance in art which followed, in
one case, the glorious assertion of national independence; in another,
the conquest of the world; and in a third, the romantic and unselfish
efforts of the Crusaders.
It was a period of deep-seated mental excitement, of a prodigious
upstirring of the human intellect. Our learned men at the present day
may smile at the quaint and imperfect erudition of these early periods
of our civilisation, but they should remember that they were our days of
_youth_, of _warmth_, and of rising vigour, while the more perfected
literature of our own age may possibly be found to superadd to its
maturity a few symptoms of old age.
This youthful energy pervaded every branch of art; everything seemed to
experience a new, a generous, and vigorous impulse. All Europe became
filled with the productions of the newly generated art; every city
became a repertory of noble and sublime architecture, and every town and
village became possessed of productions equally beautiful, if more
modest in their pretensions; while the intervening country was studded
over with castles and monastic establishments, in which the same
majestic art displayed itself in ever-varying forms, each suited to meet
their different requirements.
Nothing is more difficult than to describe a perfected art. My last two
lectures traced out the gradual construction of Pointed architecture,
and its transition from the preceding style. This was comparatively
easy; but to describe it when it had attained perfection is far less so.
The fact is that there is neither in France nor in England any very
marked difference between the styles during the later period of its
transition, and when perfected beyond that unity and consistency of
parts which indicate maturity. In France, particularly, this is the
case; for neither had the style there continued long to evince its
transitional state by the retention of strictly Romanesque
features--unless the square abacus can be so designated--nor did it,
when perfected, throw off, as in England, that one detail which to our
eye seems a relic of transition. The later transition and the earlier
perfected specimens seem in France to be the same art, a little more
developed and more homogeneous, rather than to have many describable
points of difference. In England the change of the abacus from the
square to the round form makes the distinction more marked, so that
English examples at the opening of the thirteenth century always appear
later and more advanced than contemporary French ones. I instanced in my
last lecture four early examples of perfected Early English: the eastern
transept of Lincoln, completed about 1200; the eastern chapels at
Winchester, about 1204; the western portals at St. Alban’s, finished
about 1205; and the western porch or Galilee at Ely, finished about
1214. None of them show any remains of transitional character, and all
having the English round capital in full development, appear to the
English eye more advanced than such works as the western portals of
Nôtre Dame at Paris, which are, if anything, somewhat later in date. In
this country, in fact, the form of the abacus is the distinguishing
feature between the transition to the perfected style, while in France
there is no such distinction to be found. The difference is more one of
feeling, which the practical eye perceives at once without being able to
define.
Though I speak of the Early Pointed as a newly-generated art--as it in
effect was--it must never be forgotten that it is a distinct and natural
growth from the pre-existing Romanesque. The more I study old examples
the more obvious does this appear. Take either France or England alone,
and you may from either construct, _ad libitum_, unbroken _catenæ_ of
examples, showing step by step the natural and logical growth of the new
style out of the old; and that without any essential imported element
(for the Byzantine capital, which was the parent of the Gothic one, was
an accidental, though a happy, importation).
This progressive growth was but the practical realisation of three great
aims towards which the Romanesque architects were ever striving--the
perfecting of their arcuated and vaulted construction, the increase of
the altitude of their proportions, and the general adding of refinement
and elegance to their details. Thus, if you take the internal bay of a
Norman cathedral, and simply set yourself the task of increasing its
height in a given proportion, the result will be a Gothic bay, for the
arches cannot participate in the increased elevation without becoming
pointed. If the details are further refined, it becomes an ordinary
transitional design; and if the process is carried on a little farther,
it becomes a perfected Early Pointed work--the distinction between
transition and perfected Early Pointed being merely the carrying on of
the process by which the former was generated out of Romanesque. This
fact, which all who look closely into it must see, was what led a
talented writer to say that Early Pointed was only Romanesque improved.
He meant this as an argument against it as compared with the still
succeeding styles; but I confess, for my own part, while feeling
strongly the truth of the observation, and highly appreciating the
importance of some of the subsequent developments, I do not the less
admire the glorious productions of the Early style from seeing in them
the evidences of the vigorous stock from which they have sprung.[36]
It will be seen, by enumerating the leading characteristics of Pointed
architecture, that the great majority of them were already perfected,
or, at least, brought to that reasonable and consistent state of
development which stops short of excess and exaggeration, at the
commencement of the thirteenth century.
The pointed arch had obtained universal predominance, though without
involving the rejection of the semicircular or the plain segment, where
circumstances called for them; the general predominance of the vertical
line was acknowledged, without running into the excess of underrating
the horizontal; lofty and aspiring proportions prevailed, though not to
the extent of exaggeration, and without unreasonably asserting their
claims in works of a humbler class; the subdivision of arches into
orders, and the clustering of the pillars, so as to satisfy the eye that
each member of the arch was severally supported, had arisen during the
Romanesque period, and was now carried out still more systematically and
with greater elegance; and the system of making the bases and capitals
face in the direction of the insisting arch-rib, which had also arisen
early, was (in France at least) very generally adhered to. The
distinction between constructional and decorative pillars--one of the
great characteristics of the Gothic style, both Round and Pointed--was
carried to its fullest extent; the vaulting system was perfected,
though retaining its normal simplicity; and the corresponding system of
buttress (solid or arched) and pinnacle, which are the necessary
accompaniments of a perfect arcuated style, had been brought to
perfection; the continuity of line was acknowledged sufficiently to
suggest a feeling of natural growth of the parts one from another, from
the bases of the shafts to the bosses of the vaulting, but without that
sacrifice of force and of all salient points which became the vice of
later styles.
The principle of rendering the useful features ornamental was fully
developed; as an instance of it--the doorways, the only parts of the
exterior which _must_ of necessity be seen from close at hand, were
rendered magnificent beyond all former precedent, and became the
vehicles of noble sculpture, and the great exponents of the objects of
the building, whether religious or secular. The windows now became great
characteristic objects, not only from their richly painted glass within,
but as leading architectural features, both within and without. The bell
towers became glorious structures, rendering the cities conspicuous
throughout the whole surrounding district, and making every village a
distinct and beautiful point in the landscape. The same principle
obtained in all secular structures. The castles of the nobility became
truly noble structures, glorious for the stern grandeur of their
external aspect, and for the massive beauty of their internal
architecture; the gates and defences of cities partook of the same
severe grandeur; while the street fronts, the town halls, and other
civic buildings, displayed architectural characteristics, modest or
grand, as suited their several purposes. In Italy, where municipal
institutions were more developed, noble street palaces were erected; and
everywhere the architecture, whether viewed in the mass or in its
details, was suited, as by an unerring instinct, to the objects on which
it was exercised.
The decorative system of the architecture had also been brought to great
perfection. The mouldings were refined without losing boldness or
strength--in fact, were strong or delicate, as suited their position;
the foliated carving had arrived at very high perfection, and was of a
kind perfectly new--the magnificent creation of the artistic mind;
sculpture was often profusely used in connection with architecture, and
if not of that perfectly studied symmetry which satisfies the academic
critic, it evinces a boldness of conception, a quickness of invention,
and an unaffected grandeur of sentiment, which our modern sculptors
would do well to emulate, while it is eminently suited, by its rigid
lines and severe force, to architectural purposes.
It would be absurd to attempt, in a single lecture, to give any detailed
description of the architecture of this great period; nor is it
necessary, as no style is so familiar to those whose attention has been
at all turned to such subjects; I will, however, take a few of its
leading points, and call attention to some of their characteristics.
I will begin with the _Column_. In no feature is the difference between
Classic and Gothic architecture so strongly marked as in the column. In
the former, one general idea alone prevailed--the round shaft with a
capital, and with or without a base. In the latter this normal type is
equally admissible and equally honoured, but, in addition to it, an
almost endless list of forms are introduced. In the first place the
round column is converted at pleasure into the octagonal or other
polygonal form--this is a mere variety of the normal type; then either
the round or the polygon is flanked by four smaller shafts, attached or
detached, and these subsidiary shafts may be increased in number,
subordinated one to another, both in size and salience, and may be all
attached, all detached, or the attached and detached shafts may be used
alternately or in any other order in the same pillar.
Then, again, instead of the cylindrical pillar, we may have four
cylinders united in one, and these may in their turn be made the nucleus
round which detached or attached shafts may be grouped: or we may have
two or more separate cylindrical main shafts carrying the load, and may
group subordinate ones round them; and again, we may take other forms of
nucleus--as the square, the canted square, or a pier with receding
orders--and place our shafts round them; and, finally, we may form
groups in which no specific form of nucleus is to be traced, but which
consist of shafts arranged with reference to the superincumbent arch
alone.
The number of changes which may be rung on these varieties of pillar are
absolutely endless, though it is not desirable to indulge too much in
the more intricate forms of grouping, but, as a general rule, to keep to
forms which are naturally suggested by the duties the pillar is
designed to perform. When detached subsidiary shafts are used, it is
somewhat unnatural to joint them in their length without introducing
some visible means of tying them to the main pillar within. This
necessity gave rise to the use of the moulded band, which forms so
beautiful a feature in the pillars of this period. It is sometimes made
of brass, but more usually of stone or marble.
The bases of columns throughout the Romanesque period were most usually
founded on some traditional variety of the Attic base. The resemblance
is often obscure, but in many cases very close.
[Illustration: Fig. 88.]
[Illustration: Fig. 89.--St. Stephen’s, Caen.]
Towards the end of the Romanesque period very great attention began to
be paid to the sections of base mouldings, and in transitional works
they are often more beautiful than at any other period. The difference
between these bases and the ordinary Attic base is of the same kind
which distinguishes Greek from Roman moulding. It is an extreme delicacy
of curve, the substitution of elliptical sections for circular, and a
wonderfully studious grouping of the hollows, rounds, and arrises, so as
to produce a refined and delicate contrast and gradation of light and
shade, without destroying the strength necessary to the main supporting
feature. In this they showed a high appreciation of what is in all
architecture a difficult problem--the uniting the conflicting claims of
the lower part of a building, as on the one hand demanding the greatest
strength of character as supporting the whole structure, and on the
other a delicate finish, as the part open to the closest inspection.
The bases have usually one more part than a Classic base, having in most
cases a projecting sub-plinth, either chamfered or moulded. In earlier
instances the plinth and sub-plinth are both square in plan; and here,
again, we obtain a feature of great beauty which antique architecture
did not possess. I mean the beautiful leaves or bosses of foliage which
spring out of the lower torus to cover the projecting angles of the
plinth.
[Illustration: Fig. 90.--Veselay.]
[Illustration: Fig. 91.--Westminster.]
This projection is often reduced by making the torus overhang the square
plinth in the centre of its sides, and a little projecting corbel is
often put to carry this overhanging, as well as the leaf to cover the
angles of the plinth.
At a later period the square plinth gave way to the octagonal, and in
England and Normandy often to the round form.
In early work the bases often faced about diagonally as the caps, to
indicate the direction of the arch-ribs to be supported.[37]
In France the elliptical section of the lower torus continued much
longer than in England, and the upper torus was often converted into a
kind of ogee, and both in France and England the scotia was usually very
narrow and deep--so much so, indeed, as to hold water. In England
another kind of base is frequent, in which a bead is substituted for the
scotia.
[Illustration: Figs. 92, 93. Westminster Abbey.]
In some rich work the plinth is clothed with foliage.
I have said a good deal of the history of the capitals of the Early
Pointed period in my last lecture. I particularly showed that about the
period of the transition a great change took place in France in the form
of the capitals, in which the old Romanesque form was almost universally
abandoned in favour of one of a distinctly Byzantine origin, which I
suggested came, in all probability, by way of Venice, at the time of the
erection of the Byzantine churches in Aquitaine; and that though the
domical construction of churches then brought into France does not
appear to have extended northward of the Loire, the Byzantine capital of
the Corinthianesque type was adopted quite into the north of France, and
became the parent of the exquisite capitals and foliage which, in the
next generation, pervaded the architecture both of France and England,
and, a little later, of Germany.
I also showed that the peculiar stalk or crocket, which became so
constant a feature in early Gothic capitals, took its origin from a
plain unraffled leaf frequent in the Byzantine capitals,[38] which in
their turn may have been suggested by unfinished leaves, which are of
very common occurrence in capitals of that period.
During the first half of the thirteenth century these crocket capitals
were brought to very high perfection, the stalk or crocket either
appearing in its most normal form, or being more or less clothed and
concealed by foliage. In the latter case it forms a strong background to
the leaves, giving them the apparent stiffness and strength necessary to
their position. These usually turn over in a bunch of foliage, which is
distinct from the leaves which clothe them, so that there is no
inconsistency, but the reverse, in the clothing foliage being natural,
while the terminal bunch which completes the crocket is
conventional.[39] Towards the middle of the century the natural and
conventional foliage were very much used together, the former being
often a light playful overlaying of stronger leading forms; but
afterwards, in French work, and still later in English, natural foliage
became the rule and conventional the exception.
[Illustration: Fig. 94.--Rollestone, Notts.]
[Illustration: Fig. 95.--Chartres.]
[Illustration: Fig. 96.--Southwell Minster.]
The capitals which prevailed during this century form the most
magnificent series which any style of architecture can boast. Whether
the foliage is natural, conventional, or both united, the artistic power
evinced is truly delightful; and when it is recollected that no two
capitals are ever found exactly alike, the fertility of invention they
display is perfectly wonderful.
It would be hopeless in such a lecture as this to attempt to go
through, even in the most cursory manner, the endless varieties of
capitals--from the stupendous masses of noble foliage which crown the
apsidal columns at Rheims, whose single shafts are nearly six feet in
diameter, to those of the delicate colonettes which decorate the
mullions of windows. This one feature alone would form an ample subject
for an entire lecture, or almost for a series of lectures. I will
confine my present remarks to the great characteristic differences which
distinguish French from English capitals during the thirteenth century.
This great distinction lies in the plan of the abacus; for while in
France the square form of the preceding style continued, the English
architects very soon substituted the circular plan.
It is a curious question how and when this arose. In both countries the
round abacus was, in some instances, used from an early period; but this
was chiefly on great cylindrical columns, with low capitals, such as
those in the nave of Gloucester Cathedral, though even in France the
round form occasionally occurs to subordinate shafts, as at St. Omer;
but, as a general rule, both countries used the square or the angular
form till late in the transition, when the English commenced the free
adoption of the round, first alongside of the other, and afterwards to
its almost entire exclusion.
So early as the erection of the crypt under the Trinity Chapel at
Canterbury, by William the Englishman, about 1180, we find the round
moulded capital; and in the altar recesses in the eastern transept we
find the round abacus on foliated capitals; though, I confess, I doubt
its belonging, in this last-mentioned instance, to the original work.
Much difference of opinion now exists as to the comparative merits of
these two forms. By some the square abacus is assumed to be the great
symbol of force and vigour; while by others it is said to be
inconsistent with the true principles of Gothic architecture. Perhaps
the question might be solved by deciding that both are beautiful, both
vigorous, and both consistent with Gothic architecture, and, therefore,
that both should be admitted on equal terms as portions of our general
_matériel_.
[Illustration: Fig. 97.--St. Quentin, Aisne.]
The advantages of the angular abacus are, that it allows of the capitals
indicating the direction of the arch-ribs, and assuming irregular forms
suggested by them (Fig. 97), which the round form _forbids_; that it
allows of the use of _square_ orders, and, consequently, of simpler and
more effective arch mouldings than can be placed in the round abacus, on
which the mouldings have to be somewhat crushed in their section, and
their parts multiplied, to bring them nicely on to the round support;
and that the angles indicate the direction towards which the main stalks
of the foliage should tend. There can be no doubt, on the whole, that it
produces the most vigorous effect; and I must plead guilty to an
un-English preference for it, though I also greatly admire its
competitor, whose advantages are the beautiful form which the round
moulding takes as seen in perspective from below, and its less
disturbance of the continuity of line.
[Illustration: Fig. 98.--Capitals from Crypt under Trinity Chapel,
Canterbury.]
[Illustration: Fig. 99.--Capital. Salisbury.]
[Illustration: Fig. 100. Sections of moulded Capitals, St. Albans.]
Another great characteristic of English architecture is the moulded
(unfoliated) capital. This is almost wanting in French architecture; and
I strongly contend that the invention of this capital, which we may
almost claim for our own country, is one of extreme value, and supplies
what would be otherwise a great _hiatus_ in the style. Among its earlier
instances is that I have already mentioned in the crypt at Canterbury
(Fig. 98). It is there in rather a plain and normal form, nearly
resembling a capital denuded of its foliage, but with the space below
the abacus and the bell somewhat increased, for the sake of strength.
The fully-developed moulded capital differs from this in having a
considerable overhanging moulding, which is the substitute for, and the
representative of, the foliage of the richer capital (Figs. 99, 100).
Though this overhanging moulding is uniform in type, the varieties it
assumes in detail are endless, and the groups of mouldings in these
capitals are among the most beautiful in the whole range of Gothic
architecture; and the addition of this beautiful feature to our rich
treasury of forms of capital is of infinite value.
[Illustration: Figs. 101, 102.--Capitals, Westminster Abbey.]
The abacus of the moulded capitals is not necessarily round. There are
many instances of its being square, and still more of its being
octagonal--a form which is continued through the later periods of
English architecture.
I ought to have mentioned that in its normal condition the abacus is in
a separate stone from the rest of the capital, though convenience
frequently suggests its being in one.
When marble shafts, however, are used, it is far better that the same
material be used also for the abacus.