refined form of the conventional kind, and of the earliest form in which
natural foliage was made use of (Figs. 176, 177). You have, in the tombs
of Eleanor, Crouchback, and Aveline, and in the bosses of Edward I.’s
work, the same carried on into a more systematic form; and I may here
mention that generally the bosses in the vaulting are worthy of most
careful study. Then, again, you have noble examples of figure sculpture
in the earlier monuments, especially those of Henry III., Queen Eleanor,
Crouchback, Aveline, and Aymer de Valence. Also some admirable relics of
it in connection with the architecture; as, for example, in the angles
of the triforium of the transepts (Figs. 178, 179), in the bosses of the
western aisle of the north transept, and over the doorway of the
chapter-house. Of later figure-sculpture there is an endless catalogue,
winding up nobly with Torrigiano’s works in Henry VII.’s Chapel.
[Illustration: Fig. 178.--Angel Triforium of the South Transept,
Westminster Abbey.]
[Illustration: Fig. 179.--Angel Triforium of the South Transept,
Westminster Abbey.]
Of enamel-work you have splendid relics in the monument of William de
Valence and in the shields on Edward III.’s. Of mosaic-work, whether of
porphyry or enamel, you will find abundant examples, as you so well
know: of the finer forms of painting you will find most exquisite relics
in the wonderful retabulum of the altar[72] (now preserved in the
ambulatory of the choir) and in the chapter-house; of iron-work you have
a splendid example over the tomb of Queen Eleanor; and of bronze-work
(though late in date) in the exquisite gates of Henry VII.’s Chapel and
in his tomb, with its surrounding screen, also in the accompaniments of
the bronze effigies already alluded to; while of later styles of
architecture you have as splendid a series as this country can produce,
ranging from the very earliest perpendicular in the cloisters, dating
not much after the middle of the fourteenth century, to the gorgeous
chapel of Henry VII.
[Illustration: Fig. 180.--Mosaic from the Tomb of the Children of Henry
III. and Edward I., Westminster Abbey.]
With such a storehouse of art at your doors, you need never want work.
You have, however, in London many minor works of great value. To place
them in chronological order: you have the chapel of the Tower, a work
dating back almost to the Conquest;[73] St. Bartholomew’s Priory Church
in Smithfield, a beautiful specimen of the later Norman;[74] the Temple
Church, consisting of one of the finest
[Illustration: Fig. 181.--Temple Church, London. Capitals, West Door.]
examples of the transitional[75] united with one of the finest of the
fully-developed Early Pointed style; the remains which the modern
Vandals have left us of St. Saviour’s Church, a noble Early Pointed
work; the chapel of Lambeth Palace, in the same style; Ely Place Chapel,
a work contemporary with the Eleanor Crosses;[76] the crypt of St.
Stephen’s, Westminster; the hall of Lambeth Palace; Westminster Hall,
and many an interesting object of minor importance. You have, if you
want a day’s or a week’s trip, St. Alban’s Abbey, a never-failing and
inexhaustible treasury; Waltham Abbey, with what remains unspoiled of
the Cross; Stone Church, Hampton Court, Eltham Palace, Croydon Palace,
Beddington Hall, Eastbury House, the ruins of Nether Hall, the Rye
House, and many old churches now brought within an hour’s ride of
London; not to mention the rapidly failing relics of the old churches
of Middlesex, now the mere sport of destructive and ignorant committees,
and--with shame I say it--sometimes of equally destructive but more
culpable, because only _wilfully_ ignorant, clergymen.
But London supplies _other_ facilities for the study of Mediæval art in
addition to its ancient buildings. In the first place, I may mention its
libraries, in which the student may devote his spare hours in studying
every work which has ever been published bearing upon the subject. The
library of the British Museum (including the print-room and the
manuscript-room) contains everything of that kind which the student
could desire, and I strongly recommend you to gain the privilege of
admittance and to make full use of that privilege. Your own library,
too, at the Royal Academy, and those of the Institute of British
Architects and of the Department of Art at South Kensington, offer every
facility for study. I would especially mention that last named as being
open in the evenings, and as being one of the most complete libraries of
works on art in existence. The Architectural Museum[77] and the South
Kensington Museum are absolutely invaluable as aids to the student; so
that you have ample employment for the dead season of the year in which
sketching tours are impossible, and it is your own fault if you do not
make full and ample use of the privileges you possess; for, believe me,
they are such as in former times it was impossible to obtain. I need
hardly mention the British Museum, which, though not rich in Mediæval
works, is the repository of those wondrous stores of Greek and other art
which the Mediæval artist knows as well how to value as those who devote
to them their more exclusive study.
You will perhaps wonder that I have said nothing as yet of _foreign_
travel. I have delayed this intentionally, and for this reason: the
facilities for travelling abroad are now so abundant, and so great a
stress has of late years been laid on the study of foreign examples,
that there is great danger of the student rushing headlong into foreign
travel before he has made himself acquainted, in any but the most
superficial manner, with the architecture of his own country.
You may possibly be disposed, after reading my former lectures, to say
that, as most of the developments of our art seem to have originated
abroad, it would be more systematic to study them in the first instance
where they originated, and then to trace their ramifications in other
countries. I would reply that, though when _writing_ on a subject one is
obliged to be systematic, it is by no means necessary that we should be
rigorously so in our studies. Effects have in all sciences to be
examined into before their causes are discovered, and it is often better
that each student should for himself go through the process of tracing
back familiar developments of art through the long course of
circumstances which led to them, rather than, beginning at the original
germ (which he must learn from others), to proceed--in a course not his
own--till he arrives at the result with which he is familiar from its
being at his own door.
However this may be, I hold it to be most unnatural for the English
student of Gothic architecture to plunge into the study of its
productions in other lands before he has made himself perfectly
acquainted with those of his own. Our language is _mainly_ derived from
German and French, but who would wish his children to be taught those
languages before they could speak correctly their mother tongue? We love
Gothic architecture in the first instance, not because of the buildings
we have heard of or seen pictures of as existing in foreign countries,
but from those which we see around us--our own village churches, our own
cathedrals, and a hundred objects which we have known from our
childhood. From these we learn the native language of the art, and it
behoves us to pursue the study of that language, and to perfect
ourselves in it, before we turn our attention to foreign dialects, even
though they may be of older date than our own.
When, however, you are well grounded in our own architecture, nothing
can be more delightful or more instructive than to follow up your
studies in foreign countries; though here, again, you must ever keep a
watch over yourselves--a guard to your patriotism--lest you should be
tempted to forget or to undervalue your mother tongue.[78]
The first country to visit is unquestionably France. A question may
occur whether it is best to begin with the old royal domain--the great
central province of the Pointed style, the fountain-head of our art--or
with Normandy as the connecting link between ourselves and that
fountain-head. On this question I would not offer any very strong
opinion, though I incline towards the former. I do not think that, after
the Romanesque period, the developments of the French came to us in any
very great, or at least any very exclusive, degree through Normandy; and
we know that very shortly afterwards that link of communication was cut
off by our loss of that province, and that immediately after this the
architecture of Normandy became more distinctly _French_, and that of
England more exclusively _English_. I think, therefore, that you would
be better prepared to understand the architecture of Normandy by having
first studied that of the central province of France.
This, however, is a secondary question. The great matter is, wherever
you go, thoroughly to _study_, thoroughly to _sketch_; not to hasten
over the ground to get through an extensive programme, but to seat
yourselves down where you find good material, and work on patiently at
it. Where you begin is comparatively of little matter, excepting that it
is undesirable to take the abnormal before the normal--the mere dialect
before the language.
If you begin at Paris, as the great centre, you will find, amidst the
Napoleonic modernisms of that centre of fashion, a very perfect series
of typical Mediæval remains, over-restored and otherwise often sadly
damaged, but nevertheless of the utmost value. I have mentioned most of
them in my former lectures, but I will just enumerate them to refresh
your memory, and roughly in chronological order.
I know little of purely Romanesque date unless it be the eastern part of
the abbey church of St. Martin. This is curious and worthy of attention.
The earliest object, however, of paramount importance is the older part
of the church of St. Denis. I have said a good deal about it before, and
will now content myself with pressing its importance as the grand
typical example of transition. The Byzantine foliage here displays
itself in a most marked form. You will find it in the string-courses and
other parts of the west end very finely developed.[79] The great portal
of the north transept is a noble specimen of this early style. The
foliated carving on it is of very high merit. The eastern chapels, both
of the church and crypt, are well worthy of the closest study, and there
are many fine remains both stowed away in the churchyard and preserved
in a temporary museum close by. These, however, do not all belong to
this church, some having been brought here, under what circumstances I
do not know, from St. Germain des Près. I will just mention that you
must get permission to sketch (so long as the works of restoration are
going on) from M. Viollet le Duc, and, having obtained, pray use it to
the utmost.
[Illustration: Fig. 182.--Capitals, Montmartre.]
Next in date, so far as I know, comes St. Germain des Près. Here you
will find, especially in the choir and its aisles, a most noble series
of studies of the Byzantinesque foliage. The architecture, too, is very
excellent; but you will perceive that the present form of the triforium
is altered from the original.
Perhaps about the same age is the church of Montmartre. Here the
Byzantinesque foliage is nearly all of the plain unraffled form, and is
very curious and worthy of study.
[Illustration: Fig. 183.--St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. Plan of Choir.]
In the same class may be placed the little church of St. Julien le
Pauvre, now the chapel of the Hôtel Dieu. The choir and its aisles form
a perfect work on a very small scale in the transitional style, with
Byzantinesque foliage. The church is but little known, but is well
worthy of attention. It shows how mistaken is the idea that the Early
French style is not suited to small buildings. The clear width of the
side bays is actually under four feet, and the other dimensions in
proportion, yet the whole not only has not a _miniature_, but has a
decidedly _dignified_ air, while its details offer considerable
varieties, even the two apsidal chapels being wholly different in their
design and plan. What remains of the nave and the fragments of the fine
western portal are good specimens of the succeeding style.
[Illustration: Fig. 184.--St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. Choir.]
We now come to the church of Nôtre Dame, which offers an almost perfect
series of objects of study from the same period on into the fourteenth
century. In the eastern parts is transitional work with Byzantine
foliage, showing some very curious varieties. One of the western
portals, too, contains two exquisite corbels belonging to its
predecessor of the transitional period (Figs. 187, 188). The nave with
its truly glorious portals is a most noble illustration of two
immediately succeeding periods; as fine, indeed, in its details as
anything can be. The iron-work of one of the west doors is unequalled.
The upper portions of the façade go off into later yet still noble work.
The transepts, now sadly over-restored, belong to the latter half of the
thirteenth century, and have been fine though somewhat attenuated works.
[Illustration: Fig. 185.--St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. South Aisle of
Choir.]
The _porte rouge_ is a model of a small and elegant doorway, while the
eastern chapels, which nevertheless possess great elegance, show how the
massive and masculine Early French style had become thinned down before
the close of the first quarter of the fourteenth century.
[Illustration: Fig. 186.--St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. Chapel, south
side of Choir.]
The refectory of the abbey of St. Martin aux Champs is a most noble
apartment of the first half of the thirteenth century, and some of the
foliated carving is among the finest of its period (Figs. 189, 190, 191)
while the
[Illustration: Figs. 187, 188.--Corbels, Western Portals, Nôtre Dame,
Paris.]
Sainte Chapelle, said to be the work of the same architect, carries on
the style a little farther, and is too well known to need any remark
from me.[80] Of later architecture there are also many specimens, though
my tastes and leisure have not allowed me to go much into them. There
are also several minor works of the early styles, of most of which I do
not remember the names. The Hôtel Cluny, itself a charming specimen of
the domestic architecture of the fifteenth century, contains, besides
its invaluable collection of movables, a most interesting mass of
fragments of architectural detail well worthy of several days’ careful
devotion.
[Illustration: Fig. 189.--Capital, St. Martin aux Champs.]
[Illustration: Figs. 190, 191.--Capitals, St. Martin aux Champs.]
Quitting Paris, no city in France has, perhaps, stronger claims on your
attention than Chartres. I will not go into any description of what you
will find there, further than to say that it contains some of the very
finest and richest examples both of the transitional and of the
fully-developed Early Pointed styles. You might seat yourselves down
there for a month and work hard every day, and be glad to go again and
again and do the same, and yet find ample scope for study. In all these
works the figure sculpture claims equal attention with the architecture,
and no place offers a nobler field for this study than Chartres. A short
run farther brings you to Le Mans, where the same two styles are again
gloriously displayed, the one in the nave and the other in the choir,
etc.; but this takes us out of the regions of the old royal domain and
trenches on the Angevine district.
Between Paris and Amiens, and both near to and wide of the road to the
right and left, you will find an admirable series of village churches
worthy of being made the object of an entire tour, while among them are
many more gorgeous monuments, as the abbey church of St. Luc d’Esserent
with its exquisite series of capitals, and the cathedral and other
churches of Senlis. Amiens and Beauvais need no recommendation from me,
nor need I call your attention to that glorious group consisting of
Noyen, Soissons, Laon, and Rheims, with the Château de Coucy, the
monastery of Ourscamp, etc. This group should be the subject of a
distinct tour, though too extensive to be thoroughly studied in one of
short duration.
I should have mentioned that at Creil, which you pass in going to almost
any of these places, are the ruins of the exquisite transitional church
of St. Evremont, another instance of the way in which the early French
builders fitted their architecture to works of small size. I know few
more valuable examples of its period than this.
In another direction you reach Sens--a church so closely allied with the
English transition--and Auxerre--a mine of fine detail, and farther on
the venerable abbey of Vezelay, and several others less in scale but of
great interest; but here again we get out of our province: only let me
beg you, if you go to Vezelay, to give plenty of time to the
chapter-house, a truly exquisite work of the transitional period.
Each district of France, however, has its own special objects, all
interesting and instructive, and all claiming your careful study, though
the central district bears most directly upon ourselves, excepting only
Normandy, with its Romanesque identical with our own, and its host of
charming village churches, which remind one so much of those of England.
Wherever you go, be particular to give attention to the _rarer_ objects,
such as timber roofs of early date, chancel stalls, wall decorations,
with those relating to groining, etc., to metal-work, jewellery,
shrines, illuminated manuscripts, and more especially to stained glass;
and, perhaps, almost more than all, to figure sculpture. I would also
suggest that you should generally give preference to objects which are
really _beautiful_ rather than to those which are odd and extravagant. I
confess I have not myself seen much of the latter class in France; but
some of my friends who have a keener eye have, if one may judge of
causes by effects, come home loaded with eccentricities such as I have
failed to meet with.
Germany is almost as delightful to the architectural tourist as France
itself, and is much more so in one respect. I mean the general retention
of the movables of churches, even to the jewellery.
The architecture in Germany which is, perhaps, the most valuable is that
of the transition, which, as I have before pointed out, took here a
line of its own. After this, the most valuable is, perhaps, the brick
architecture of the North. The timber buildings, however, are almost
equally important, were it not that it is a material not much in use for
external architecture in our own day.
The movables, however, are the richest inheritance of the German
churches, and to these I would recommend your devoted attention. They
form a special and most important subject of study, and one for which no
country offers such facilities. Besides the more ordinary objects, such
as chancel fittings, reredoses, bronze gates, metal and other screens,
lamps, _coronæ_, fonts (whether of stone or of brass), tabernacles for
the reservation of the host, ancient organs, paintings, and a hundred
others of parallel classes, almost every great church has its
_Schatzzimmer_, or treasury, and these usually contain valuables of the
highest interest and of the most splendid art. These are not always easy
of access, and it is difficult to obtain permission to sketch in them;
but it is worth every exertion to do so. The treasuries at
Aix-la-Chapelle and Cologne are known to every traveller, and their
claims upon the student are apt to be passed over from very familiarity;
but a few days devoted to each would be invaluable. I know no ancient
work more glorious or more exquisite, so far as it remains intact, than
the shrine of the Three Kings at Cologne. I have on two occasions
obtained permission for a brief period to draw from it, and have been
filled with wonder at the exquisite art which a close examination
unfolds. At Hildesheim are numberless objects of early art of the same
class. At Brunswick, again, are a few; while the treasury of the
cathedral at Halberstadt is a complete museum of Mediæval art. Sacred
vessels, reliquaries containing the finest early workmanship, books with
glorious jewelled covers, mitres of all degrees of richness, tapestries
from the earliest periods, altar coverings both of embroidery and linen
of early periods, and exquisite works of every class we can imagine are
to be found in that charmed enclosure.[81] At Marburg there are also
many such objects, and among them the shields of the old Teutonic
knights and the perfectly wonderful shrine of St. Elizabeth. I do not
refer to the beautiful stone structure which contained it, and which is
figured by Moller, but to the gorgeous jewelled shrine which it
contained. All through Germany, however, the case is the same: wherever
you go you find the great churches replete with the movable works of
Mediæval art. It is for you to study them with the care which they
deserve.
I have in a previous lecture said a good deal about the study of Italian
architecture, and I will not now repeat it. Suffice it to say that Italy
is the land in which to study the use of rich materials, of mosaic-work,
and of architectural decoration in its highest forms. It is the land in
which to give the finishing touch to your architectural training, to
learn the last and loftiest lessons--those which show us how to link
architecture with the sister arts in their highest perfection. If you
are artists when you go there, you may be much more advanced artists
when you return. We learn, too, there much that is most useful in
respect of the domestic architecture of towns. It is, however, a
seductive country, and we have to keep on our guard there, and not to
forget that we are members of a Northern nation.
Mr. Street has told us a great deal that is deeply interesting about
Spanish architecture, so I will not (as I have never seen it) enter upon
that subject; and will close what I have to say on foreign travel by
urging you to the diligent use of it, but urging you also when you
return home, not to forget that you are _Englishmen_, and that _English_
is your proper language. I would also advise that your foreign tours
should be followed up or alternated with English ones, so that your own
native architecture may always be kept prominently before your mind.
I have offered to you in this lecture what may appear to you but the dry
bones of the subject. In my next I hope to follow it up by suggestions,
both as to the spirit in which this course of study should be
undertaken, and the personal training both of the mind, the eye, and the
hand necessary to fit you for such studies; and as to the practical uses
which you should subsequently make of the lessons you will have thus
learned.
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.
In my last lecture I gave you an outline of the course of study
requisite to obtaining a knowledge of Mediæval architecture, so far as
this is to be done by the studying and sketching from ancient buildings.
I purpose, in this, to carry on the same subject into other particulars,
and also to offer some suggestions as to the actual practice of the
revived style.