In the foregoing Lectures, having only brought the history of our

Architecture down to the close of the thirteenth century, I have

neglected that of the later styles, and, consequently in great measure,

the development and progressive changes in window-tracery. This has,

however, been so amply treated of in many books and essays that it is

not a matter with me of much regret. I confess I _had_ intended to have

supplied the omission in subsequent lectures, but circumstances

prevented.

It would have been an agreeable task to have followed up the history of

window-tracery and the many details which accompanied it, through the

remaining two and a half centuries of the reign of Gothic

architecture--to have shown how it grew from the purely geometrical

system of Westminster, Newstead, and the “Angel choir” at Lincoln into

the sweeter tracery of the “Easter aisle” at St. Albans, and of St.

Etheldreda’s Chapel in Holborn; and on again into the yet softer

loveliness of the Lady Chapel at Chichester, the halls at Penshurst,

Mayfield, the gatehouses of Battle Abbey and of St. Augustine’s at

Canterbury, and the Chapel of St. Anselm and De Estria’s work at the

cathedral there; and then again into the more flowing tracery of Alan de

Walsingham’s work, till it fell into debility by its too sensuous

ramifications, and was brought back again to vigour by the stern

perpendicular work of Wykeham; and how that, in its turn, became

softened down, into such works as Crosby and Eltham Halls, and again

into the exuberance of the Tudor style. All this would be very pleasant,

but would necessitate the treating of all contemporary variations of

detail, and would swell my lectures out into another volume: more than

this, _I have given no such lectures_. It has been _my_ task to show the

principles on which Gothic architecture _was founded_, and on which it

attained its leading developments, rather than to follow them out to

their ultimate results, on attaining which much which led to them was

thrown aside, as scaffolding is taken down when a structure is

completed.

I feel it necessary, however, while neglecting the more usual course of

chronicling the history of window-tracery, to supplement my lectures at

this point with some remarks on the general construction of

windows--applicable more or less to all periods of Mediæval

architecture.

The most normal form of a window in an arched style is simply an opening

straight through the wall covered by a barrel arch. This is, however,

obviously defective in its fitness for diffusing light in the interior,

a deficiency which, though slight in the case of a large window in a

thin wall, becomes serious when the window is narrow and the wall thick.

The simplest method of meeting this is to splay the jambs and arch of

the window, at, for example, an angle of forty-five degrees, so as to

allow for the spreading of the rays of light within.

In English architecture of pre-Norman days, this was most frequently

done, both within and without, by placing the glass a long way from the

outer face, or perhaps in the mid-thickness of the wall (Fig. 154). This

had the advantage of splaying the head or arch as well as the jamb,

which allowed more high light to enter; an advantage often increased by

splaying the exterior of the arch _more_ than the jambs, giving it a

bonnet-like shape, and so obtaining still higher light (Fig. 155).

Windows thus splayed inside and out, may be seen in the Castle Church at

Dover--some few of these are not arched but had oak lintels, splaying

upwards at about forty-five degrees (Fig. 156). The bonnet-headed window

may be seen at Holy Trinity Church, Colchester; Clapham Church,

Bedfordshire and many other buildings.

[Illustration: Fig. 154.]

[Illustration: Fig. 155.]

[Illustration: Fig. 156.]

[Illustration: Fig. 157.--St. Pantaleon’s Church, Cologne.]

The deeply splayed window may also be seen in part of St. Pantaleon’s

Church at Cologne (Fig. 157), which is a work of the tenth century, and

in the aisles of the Basse-œuvre at Beauvais, a church of at least as

early a date, so that it may be viewed as a feature common during these

early periods of Romanesque which preceded that from which our Mediæval

styles were developed. During the rise of the Norman style, a different

system was more usually adopted, the splay of the jambs and arch being

mainly internal. A series of humble village churches at the back of

Dover Cliffs have windows in which the glass was flush with the

exterior, and all the splay put inside; many both in Normandy and in

this country differ from this only in having a very small external

splay, and even when the exterior is shafted the inner splay often comes

close to the face of the recessed order.

[Illustration: Fig. 158.--Chancel, Burgh Church, Norfolk.]

This excessive flushness is less frequent as the style advances, and in

Early English, though sometimes, as in the beautiful chancel at Burgh in

Norfolk, (Fig. 158) the glass is sometimes brought extremely close to

the outside: it is usual to have at least a few inches of splay around

it.

In transitional work, as in Norman, the internal splay, often of very

great width, usually runs round the arch concentrically; but in

developed Early English,

[Illustration: Fig. 159.]

[Illustration: Fig. 160.]

[Illustration: Fig. 161.]

[Illustration: Fig. 162.]

[Illustration: Figs. 163, 164.]

and in subsequent styles, a special variety of internal arch is

introduced suited to those numerous cases in which the glass-plane is

far nearer (as it is in a majority of instances) to the outer than the

inner face of the walls. The simplest form of this internal window-arch

takes the form of a barrel (pointed) arch, springing so much lower than

the spring of the outside arch as to allow it to span the increased

internal width without rising unduly higher than the outside arch, as

was the case when the splay was continued round the inner arch. This

arch of necessity formed an intersection with the inside splays. Its

edge was usually in the plainest specimens, relieved by a chamfer (Fig.

159), which was often exchanged for a moulding (Fig. 160); but a far

more agreeable finish was a rib dropping down a little from the arched

soffite, its edges being either chamfered or moulded with or without a

label over it (Fig. 161). This, if the arch were made slightly

segmental, would die into the jamb-splay, or it might be carried on a

corbel (Fig. 162) or a shaft (Figs. 163, 164), thus forming a very

agreeable and picturesque internal finish to the window.

This rib is usually termed a rere-arch.

Professor Willis, in his paper on the _Architectural Nomenclature of the

Middle Ages_, calls it a “Scoinson Arch,” from a French word

“_escoinsons_.” He also quotes the term “_arrière voussure_,” probably

meaning the arch behind the rib.

Professor Willis’s general description, which I had not referred to when

I wrote the above, is as follows:--“An arch is placed so as to carry the

inner surface of the wall. In simple examples, like the present, this

rib is plain, and dies against the jambs, but in superior buildings is

richly moulded, and a shaft, with base and capital and side-mouldings,

are added to the edges of the jamb. But this arrangement is mostly

distinct from the window-tracery. This arch is of different and larger

span from that of the window-head, because the spreading or embrasure of

the jambs increases the opening inwards. It is also of a different

curvature, and the decoration of the two disconnected and separated by

the plain splayed sides of the window-opening, connecting the two, and

resting at one end on the tracery, and at the other on the rib, is a

narrow vault or _voussure_, which again is not necessarily of the same

curvature as the sustaining arches, but which carries the core of the

wall above.”

He says farther on:--“We may therefore call the said vault, rib, and

shaft; the rere-vault, rere-rib, and rere-shaft of the window.” He also

remarks that, “in the thick walls of Mediæval structure, the tracery

and its glazing are commonly placed much nearer to the outer surface of

the wall than to the inner.” This last observation calls our attention

to a great and important distinction by which nearly all Mediæval

windows may be classified--viz., those which have their glass-plane at

or near the mid-thickness of the wall, and those which, as the Professor

says, have it “much nearer to the outer surface than to the inner.”

This distinction was, as I have shown, of early date; being in its

earlier ages rather distinctive of “Saxon” from Norman windows. The

class, however, in which the glass was nearer the outer than the inner

side had, up to about the year 1200, its inner arch concentric with its

outer one; but the invention of the rere-arch and its accompaniments

obviated this, and established a hard and obvious distinction between

these two great classes of windows.

The custom of sometimes placing the glass at the mid-thickness of the

wall was in no degree given up, but, on the contrary, was continued

through all styles; but, when adopted, the older system of making the

inner concentric with the outer arch was nearly always continued,

marking more distinctly the great difference between the two classes of

window. The choice between them became a mere matter of taste and of

outlay; all styles acknowledging both as equally admissible and correct.

The two systems may be distinguished as _rere-arch_ windows and

_through-arch_ windows--_i.e._, those in which the inner is distinct

from the outer arch, and those in which the same arch runs _through_ the

wall, showing itself more or less similarly on its outer and inner

faces.

[Illustration: Fig. 165.--Broughton Church, Oxfordshire.]

[Illustration: Fig. 166.--Christchurch, Hants. North Transept.]

In thick walls and rich work there is often another order of

through-arch within the tracery order, or rather the outer order

re-appears within. The rere-arch is occasionally cusped, as in a window

at Broughton, Oxfordshire (Fig. 165), and the intervening space is

sometimes groined, as in some windows at Salisbury and Christchurch

(Fig. 166), or richly panelled, as in some at Westminster. In some

instances the place of the rere-arch is occupied by distinct tracery,

like a second window in advance of the real one. This consists in most

instances of perfect bar tracery, while the window itself is of plate

tracery; as may be seen in some of the windows at Stone Church, Kent

(Fig. 167), and as once existed on a much larger scale in the

chapter-house at Tintern. I may here mention that the tracery of a

window is always viewed as an _arch-order_; and, though the

corresponding order in the jamb is in the solid with the jamb up to the

springing, the tracery, like other arch-orders, is severed by a

continuous joint from the order above it.

[Illustration: Fig. 167.--Stone Church, Kent.]

The most normal type of the through-arch window is that in which the

glass is placed in the middle of the thickness of the wall, and the

interior of the window is a mere repetition of its exterior. This is

not, however, by any means necessary or constant; for the glass is often

either less or more recessed, and the inner mouldings, etc., are not

always similar to the external ones, so that the existence or

non-existence of a separate internal arch is the more clear distinction.

Some, however, of an intermediate character, are to be found in which an

inner arch, separate in design, is nevertheless concentric with the

outer arch. In others the separate existence of the inner arch arises

from the existence of a triforium passage, which in clerestory windows

leads to some changes of design from the normal type. In others the

rere-arch is not only concentric, but is so close upon the outer arch as

to be almost one with it. The two classes are, however, for the most

part easily distinguished.

[Illustration: Fig. 168.--Chancel, Brecon Priory.]

One of the earliest instances which I recollect of the rere-arch is in

the eastern part of Tynemouth Priory.[63] This is in the transitional

style, and the strongly-marked separation of the inner from the outer

arch is largely owing to the vast thickness of the walls. The glass

plane is perhaps four times as far from the inside as from the outside.

A fine series of specimens is in the chancel of Brecon Priory (Fig.

168), where the separation between the outer and inner arch, and the

depth of the glass from the inner face are also very great. Most of the

early English windows found in churches of an ordinary type are of this

class. Among Early English buildings in which the windows are mostly of

the “rere-arch” variety, may be mentioned Salisbury Cathedral, Whitby

Abbey, the Temple Church (eastern part), the Chapel of the Nine Altars

at Durham,[64] Trumpington’s work at St. Alban’s, the choir of Brecon

Priory, the eastern Chapels at Winchester (Fig. 169), the chapter-house

at Oxford, the choir of Fountains Abbey, etc. Among those of the same

style in which the “through-arch” window prevails, may be mentioned the

transepts at York, the choir aisles at Carlisle, Rievaulx Abbey, the

chapter-house at Furness Abbey (Fig. 170), much of the work at Lincoln,

Kirkham Abbey, etc.

[Illustration: Fig. 169.--Winchester Cathedral. De Lucy’s work.]

Among buildings transitional between Early English and Decorated, or

very early Decorated, may be named as having mainly rere-arch windows,

Westminster Abbey (excepting the chapter-house), Tintern Abbey, the

eastern parts

[Illustration: Fig. 172.--Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Ely Place, Holborn.

East window.]

of St. Alban’s Abbey, the beautiful Templars’ Church at Temple Balsal,

the Chapel of the Palace of the Bishops of Ely in Holborn (Figs. 171,

172), the choir of Dorchester Abbey, the Bishops’ Hall at Wells, the

choir of Merton Chapel at Oxford, etc.

[Illustration: Fig. 170.--Furness Abbey, one bay of Chapter-House.]

[Illustration: Fig. 173.--The Chapter-House, Salisbury Cathedral.]

Among those of a like period in which the through-arch window prevails,

may be named the chapter-houses at Westminster and Salisbury (Fig. 173),

the later parts of Lincoln, the choir aisles at Selby and Guisborough,

the choir of St. Mary’s Abbey at York, most of the Decorated work at

York Minster, Exeter, etc. In later Decorated work the same freedom of

choice prevails, as it does also in “Perpendicular” buildings, though,

as we come down to later dates, the “through-arch” becomes, on the

whole, more prevalent.

Taking all styles together, the rere-arch, or in earlier works the wider

internal splay, is greatly more frequent, probably because less costly

than the other form; and though, when the “through-arch” is used, the

glass is usually set deeper from the external face than when there is a

rere-arch, and is frequently near the centre of the wall, such is often

not the case, as in the eastern windows at Kirkham, where the internal

depth is much the greater, and, in a few instances, where it is less,

than the external. On the whole, it may be said that the rere-arch

system tells most internally, while the other offers greater freedom for

external depth of jamb and arch mouldings. Both are equally at the

choice and command of the architect, who can use both, if he pleases, in

the same building, and to condemn either would be like blotting out an

essential element of architecture.

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.

As it is six years since I last delivered a lecture in this place, and

nine years since the first of the short series which I gave, it is in

the highest degree improbable that any one of the students whom I have

the pleasure of addressing was present on any of those occasions. Had

that series been a complete one, I might possibly have done better by,

in some degree, repeating it; but as it was not so, and as there is an

inconsistency in offering supplementary lectures to a new audience, I

have adopted the expedient of printing my former lectures, and

distributing them to the architectural students, and of re-exhibiting

the illustrations which accompanied them; so that, knowing that those

who have thought it worth while may have read what I have already said,

I am free to proceed as if my audience were unchanged.

I will here mention that I only come before you at all owing to my

friend Mr. Smirke (who for five years has so ably and indefatigably

fulfilled the duties of Professor of Architecture), having felt it

necessary, for this year at least, to retire from those duties, and to

my having been asked to do something--be it ever so little--to prevent

the class of architecture from falling into abeyance for the year. I

have, therefore, undertaken two lectures, as a mere apology during the

interregnum for the more onerous duties of a professor, and I must beg

to be excused if the manner in which I perform this temporary duty is of

the same dubious kind with the duty itself.

In my former lectures I endeavoured, first, to state the claims of

Gothic architecture upon our special study and attention; I next, in a

series of four lectures, traced out with some minuteness the history of

its development from the earlier and ruder forms of Romanesque--through

the various processes of refinement which brought that style to its

highest state of perfection--and, through the great process of

transition by which it became gradually and systematically changed into

the Pointed style: not, as I showed, from a mere change of taste or

fashion, but from strictly logical and practical causes, accompanied by

an ardent unresting determination to raise the art to the highest

perfection which the circumstances of the age would permit; and I then

showed how the Pointed style--when once generated--developed itself into

the perfected and glorious architecture of the middle of the thirteenth

century.

I did not follow out the history of Gothic architecture in its

succeeding stages, as my object was rather _moral_ than merely

_historical_, and I desired rather to exhibit the glorious earnestness

of a people, who, while developing a new civilisation, pressed ardently

forward, side by side with it, the generation of a new style of

architecture, than to give a history of the successive changes through

which that architecture passed. When, therefore, I had traced out the

style to its culminating point, I quitted mere history, and closed with

two lectures on the _rationale_ of the style, showing how every form

which characterised it in its best days was dictated, not by fashion or

caprice, but by _reason_.

Being now, after a lengthened interval, called upon to add two lectures

to my series, I take for my subjects the practical study of Gothic

architecture, and its actual practice and adaptation to the requirements

of our own day.

Commencing, then, with the _study_ of the style, nothing seems at first

sight so obvious as how to gain knowledge of such a subject; indeed, you

may feel puzzled to think what there is to say on so simple a matter.

“Surely,” you might say, “if a person wants to obtain a knowledge of a

subject so thoroughly investigated, so popular, and brought so

prominently before the public as for many years past has been the case

with Gothic architecture, there is no difficulty in the world about it,

nor is it worth while to waste an hour in listening to a lecture on so

patent a question.” How is it, then, we may ask in return, that such a

multitude of architects erect Gothic buildings, one glance at which is

sufficient to show that they are ignorant of the style in which they are

pretending to work?--that we see at every turn attempts at advanced

development of the style which betray an utter innocence of all

acquaintance with its A B C?--and that worst of all, we find the

precious remnants of Mediæval art _restored_--Oh, shame on the

misnomer!--by men who have never given thought enough to the subject to

enable them to appreciate, even in the faintest degree, the value of the

treasures committed in such false confidence to their keeping, or to

form the most distant idea of their own ignorance? Surely, this is

enough to prove that the study of Gothic architecture is not understood,

or is grievously neglected by those who assume a knowledge of and

presume to practise it.

And the converse is equally true: that the success, more or less

perfect, of many others proves that the true road is known, and by a

certain number is faithfully followed. My object in what I have to say

is more, perhaps, to urge upon each of you to be of that number than to

make any but what will appear most trite and self-evident suggestions as

to what the true road is in which I ask you to walk.

In the first place, it is self-evident that Gothic architecture is only

to be learned from the _old examples_. I notice, absurd as it may seem,

that many young architects appear to think that it may be learned from

books and by looking at modern buildings, and really pay little

attention to the original sources of all our information. True, it is

the part of every student to make use of _all_ the resources within his

reach, and it would be absurd to undervalue the aid of books; it is also

wise to look at the works of such modern architects as are worthy of

confidence; but there is no source from which the style can be _really

learned_ but the _ancient examples_, and to these it is impossible to

devote too great an amount of study.

I would next observe that this study of old examples must be

_continuous_. It is not a course of study to be followed up for a

certain time and then brought to a close, but must be continued

indefinitely throughout your whole course, so as to be ever _reviving_

and ever _adding to_ your knowledge. In the study of Classic

architecture, though it is from the original examples that knowledge and

inspiration are drawn, these examples are so far removed from us, in

this country at least, that it is as a rule only possible to study from

them once or twice during a whole life. The case is, happily, very

different with the examples of Mediæval art: we are surrounded by them

wherever we go;--they are the early monuments of our own country, the

works of our forefathers, and our study of them is not the work of one

strong effort at a single period of our lives, but a constantly renewing

study, a fountain to which we may return again and again whenever we

feel to need its refreshing influences. This, though an inestimable

advantage, _may_ prove a temptation to negligence, as we are apt to let

go opportunities which are ever at hand, so that we must not trust to

these desultory sippings for our main supply, but must _drink deep and

long_ when we have the opportunity; and more especially I would urge

upon _you_ to do so _now_--in the days of your youth, while yet

unencumbered by the cares of business, while your feelings are fresh and

your thoughts unshackled. _This_ is the time for laying in the great

stores of knowledge which must be the main supply of your future lives,

and _without_ which the scant and hasty draughts obtained on chance

opportunities will be of no avail, but _after_ which they will be the

means of constantly refreshing and adding ever new life to the

knowledge already possessed. We may say of this as of other branches of

study,

“A little learning is a dangerous thing.

Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.”

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