The frank and natural meeting of these new demands and new facilities

will of itself produce developments enough to distinguish the works of

our revival from those of old times, without our affecting to alter

those elements of our style which are not naturally affected by any such

conditions. I have said so much, however, on these subjects elsewhere,

that I will not venture to crowd their multitudinous details into this

lecture: only suggesting, in passing, that _domestic_ architecture by

its absolute demands _must_ of necessity suggest very many new

developments; that another wide field for novelty of treatment is

offered by the _wrought iron_ construction and _fire-proof_ construction

of our day; and that there still remains to us the solution of the noble

problem of the introduction and naturalisation of the _dome_ as a

feature of our revived style.

I will now say a very few words on another branch of the practice of a

Gothic architect: that which relates to the _repairs_ and _restoration_

of ancient buildings.

What I have said on the _study_ of ancient examples as the one and only

source of knowledge of architecture, of necessity carries with it the

assertion of the value of those examples, whether of a higher or of a

humbler class, and the condemnation of those who would deprive us of

these monuments of ancient art or tamper with their genuineness or

integrity. Yet, strange to say, a large number of the architects who

take in hand the so-called restoration of our ancient buildings seem

utterly devoid of all feeling for their value as authentic works of

olden time. I know no subject connected with architecture more mournful

and distressing than the way in which our old churches are but too

generally dealt with. Many of our large towns contain one or more

architects who systematically prey upon the surrounding churches, more

or less ruining everything they touch, and that without remorse, and

combating with the utmost energy every remonstrance against their

destructive habits. Nor are _they_ alone to blame. _The clergy too often

love to have it so._ If they can get their churches made smart, they

often seem to care little about the destruction of their antiquities;

and thus, between them and their architects, whole counties are becoming

denuded of a great part of the points of interest in their churches.

Nay, the man who commits the greatest devastations often earns the

greatest amount of commendation; and one who venerates an old building

and seeks to preserve its antiquities has to _fight for every inch of

ground_ against the opposition of the parties interested in the work.

These destructive tendencies are not limited to the minor features of

churches, but often involve the whole buildings, or large parts of them,

in destruction, and that without a shadow of necessity. One of these

destroyers of churches is called in, and at once condemns all he does

not fancy or which can be shown to be out of repair; the clergyman

appeals to the neighbourhood for funds to meet the sad state of things

portrayed by his architect; the whole or part of it is destroyed, and no

regard to its former design is paid in its reconstruction. This is going

on all over the country, with the applause of local magnates and the

laudations of the local papers: the architect and his patrons glory in

their success, while the country is robbed, one by one, of its

invaluable and irreplaceable antiquities.[94]

Even the societies formed for the study of our antiquities fail to lift

up their voices sufficiently against this fearful Vandalism, while many

who should be the guardians of our ancient churches use specious

arguments in confutation of the protests of those who dare to denounce

the atrocities which are perpetrated.

I have expressed myself pretty fully on the subject elsewhere, and have

spoken also about the spirit in which we should undertake such additions

to old churches as absolute necessity demands; and I am happy to say

that the Institute of British Architects have issued most judicious and

strongly-worded codes of suggestions as to the treatment of old

buildings, so that I trust the public will at some time be awakened to

the monstrous course which is being too generally followed. I go over

the ground on this occasion because I suppose myself to be addressing

many of those to whose keeping our churches and other old buildings will

be at a future time committed. I desire to warn you at the outset

against following the steps of those whose misdeeds I have been

proclaiming; and I close these lectures with an earnest entreaty that

you will enter upon practice with a solemn vow to yourselves to be the

determined and consistent protectors and conservators of those precious

relics of former days, now consecrated by antiquity, and from which

alone you learn the art which I am urging you to study.

“It were a pious work, I hear you say,

To prop the falling ruin, and to stay

The work of desolation. It may be

That ye say right: but, oh, _work tenderly_:

Beware lest _one_ worn feature ye efface;

Seek not to add _one_ touch of modern grace;

Handle with reverence each crumbling stone,

Respect the very lichens o’er it grown;

And bid each ancient monument to stand,

Supported e’en as with a filial hand.

’Mid all the light a happier day has brought

We work not yet as our forefathers wrought.”

END OF VOL. I.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] I fancy Mr. Freeman, who has perhaps more right than any living

author to a dogmatic opinion on this question, would think that I have

gone too far in this statement; and that the course of architecture was

less broken at this period than I imagined when writing the above. In

Italy, I have since come to the opinion, the history of architecture

was fairly continuous, in spite of Gothic invasions, etc. Although the

architecture at Pavia, etc., called by Mr. T. Hope “Lombardic,” has

been proved to be of dates far later than he supposed when giving it

that name, I feel convinced that truly Lombard architecture does exist,

and that of a type naturally succeeding and carrying on the style of

the earlier Basilicæ. At Lucca, for instance, though little attention

has been paid by writers on its churches, to anything earlier than the

Pisan work of the twelfth century, a careful examination will show that

many of them have a nucleus (and some far more) of a much earlier date,

reaching back to the time of the Lombard kings (G. G. S. 1878).

[2] See note on this subject in the previous lecture. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[3] _Ibid._

[4] Mr. Freeman, in vol. v. of his “Norman Conquest,” has treated

admirably of the architecture of this period, under the name of

“Primitive Romanesque.” (G. G. S. 1878.)

[5] I do not know whether the western bays of the Church of S. Pierre,

adjoining the Abbey Church at Jumiéges (which bays seem to have

belonged to the original chapter-house), belong to the older building

destroyed by the Normans, or to that rebuilt in 930 by Guillaume

Longue-Epeé. They are in style not Norman, but refined “Primitive

Romanesque.” (G. G. S. 1878.)

[6] There is an exception to this in the vaulting of curved spaces,

such as the circular aisle round an apse in which the ribs assume a

waved plan. (G. G. S.)

[7] See views of St. Faith’s Chapel, vol. ii. Lecture XIII.

[8] St. Cross, See Lecture III. p. 124.

[9] Interior View of St. Joseph’s, See Lecture III. p. 116.

[10] The length to which the Lecture has extended itself has rendered

it necessary for the present to pass over the German transition with

very slight notice. (G. G. S.)

[11] I ought to couple with the vaulting all wide-spanned arches; but

in a vaulted building they naturally go together. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[12] There is some uncertainty as to the building to which these

fragments belonged. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[13] A better acquaintance with southern buildings does not wholly

remove this difficulty. The Greek and Roman types seem to be a good

deal mixed in them. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[14] From a careful examination of the old capitals removed from the

church of St. Frond during the “Restoration,” I observe that they

are scarcely so distinct in their Byzantine character as those later

specimens which I have been speaking of. This makes me suspect that

throughout the twelfth century actually Byzantine carvers were employed

in France. Without this I cannot account for the continuance of the

Byzantine feeling in all its purity for so long a time. (G. G. S.)

[Illustration: Fig. 28.--Capitals from the north-west Portal, Lincoln

Cathedral.]

[15] We find the Byzantine feeling every here and there strongly

developed in our own transitional examples. I will mention as an

instance the north-west portal of Lincoln Cathedral, where it is

beautifully exhibited. (Fig. 28). (G. G. S.)

[16] See page 93, Fig. 38.

[17] The same construction appears to have also existed both at

Tewkesbury and at Pershore. (G. G. S.)

[18] See page 85, Fig. 27.

[19] 1858.

[20] It is curious to observe precisely the same art as in the eastern

part of Nôtre Dame exhibited in the tiny, but exquisite choir, close

by, of St. Julien le Pauvre.[21] Another small but highly valuable

example is the beautiful ruined church of St. Evremont at Creil. An

example of this style, which I have not seen much noticed in books, is

the cathedral at Geneva. I am unacquainted with its history, but should

suppose that a considerable interval occurred between its lower and

upper stages, the latter being of perfected Early Pointed, while the

former is as admirable a transitional work as I have anywhere met with.

It partakes in some parts of that classic tendency which is displayed

in the earlier parts of the cathedral at Lyons.

To follow out the subject through the South of France would not only be

useless in illustrating the English transition, but would, compressed

into the smallest space, be a subject for an entire lecture. I cannot,

however, abstain from just alluding to the noble manner in which the

style adapts itself to Domed architecture at Angoulême and throughout

its neighbourhood, and to the Quasi-domed architecture at Le Puy.

The latter has been illustrated in an excellent paper by Mr. Street,

read before the Institute of British Architects. The southern form of

the transition must have been nobly exemplified by the church of St.

Gilles near Nismes, before that charming church became ruined in the

religious wars of the sixteenth century. The entire plan of the church

still remains intelligible, as does most of the superstructure; and it

is difficult to imagine anything more noble. The three western portals

are better known, and are truly magnificent. Parallel to them are the

western portal and the cloister of St. Trophimus[22] at Arles. The

church at St. Gilles retains the date of its commencement, 1116, which,

however, seems too early for its architecture. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[21] See Lecture VIII., p. 320, Figs. 183, 184, 185, 186.

[22] See Lecture VI., p. 229.

[23] The carving of the more advanced style here described belongs

probably to the beginning of the thirteenth century. M. Viollet le

Duc seems to think that the western façade was not begun till about

1218; but I think it must have been earlier, because the corbels and

upper jamb-stones of the south-western portal, unlike the rest, are of

exquisite Byzantine workmanship. (G. G. S. 1878).

[24] A more careful examination shows that far the larger part of

Darlington is of later date, using up, as would appear, details

prepared by Pudsey, who died before the church had made any great

progress. (G. G. S.)

[25] There is work of the Canterbury type in the double chapel to

the keep of Dover Castle, and interpolated work by the same hand in

the church hard by, in which Saxon work is re-used as material for

transitional work. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[26] The dates are given in Professor Willis’s excellent paper on the

Abbey. They are from 1186 onwards. The older Abbey was burnt down in

1186. The Chapel now known as that of St. Joseph, but which was really

the Lady Chapel, was first rebuilt, and the church followed immediately

afterwards. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[27] The clerestory and triforium of St. Germain des Pres have

undergone some alterations from the original forms. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[28] This work at Chichester was executed at the close of the century,

after the fire of 1186; but Professor Willis has shown that some early

Pointed work of a very marked character, which exists in the western

part of the Lady Chapel, must have been erected previously to that

event.

[29] This unfoliated capital I have since noticed in the Church

at Tulle in Limousin, where simplicity was suggested by the

material--granite. (G. G. S.)

[30] I read a paper on the English Transition, especially viewed in

reference to its English and French elements, before the Archæological

Institution at Canterbury in 1875. See their Journal. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[31] For illustration see Lecture IV., Fig. 109.

[32] For illustration see Lecture V., Fig. 116.

[33] It is fair to say that Professor Willis doubted the date given to

this Galilee. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[34] In the church of St. Francis at Assisi, a German and an Italian

architect worked together. The former imported into the work a German

version of the French Pointed style, while the latter retained the

semi-classic Romanesque of his own country--the two indefinitely

commingled. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[35] The last sentence, though expressing a general truth, must not be

taken too literally; for, though it is the great principle of Gothic

architecture to decorate construction, this may be effected simply or

richly, and with or without sculpture or carving, according to the

requirements of the case. (G. G. S.)

[36] I remember conducting for the first time M. Reichensperger through

Westminster Abbey, being surprised at his objecting to some details

as “Bysantinisch.” This arose from his having mentally adopted later

styles as his models, in which no trace of Romanesque origin remains.

(G. G. S. 1878.)

[37] See Lecture VII. page 248.

[38] See capital from S. Eusèbe, Auxerre, Lecture III., page 101; also

capitals from Montmartre, Lecture VIII., page 319.

[39] See capitals from Nôtre Dame, Saint Chapelle, etc., Lecture III.

pages 102 and 103.

[40] I have since discovered that the great four and five light windows

of the chapter-house at Westminster were finished in 1253. These are of

the fullest development, and have cusped heads to their lights. (G. G.

S.)

For illustration, see Interior of Chapter-House, Lecture XIV. Vol. ii.

[41] For illustration, see Lecture V., Fig. 122.

[42] For illustration, see Lecture V., Fig. 116.

[43] I remember, in the report of one of the parish meetings, Mr.

Barclay having proposed the restoration of the glorious old nave, an

intelligent parishioner exclaiming, “What! keep them great elephants’

foots?” (G. G. S. 1878.)

[44] I am glad to learn that the drawings _are_ preserved, and that

they will, D.V., be published by Mr. Dollman. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[45] Or rather, in some respects, of Beauvais. The two were, no doubt,

jointly referred to by the Cologne architect. (G. G. S.)

[46] Since writing this I have had the privilege of restoring it, and

in these days of ante-restoration I am glad that so clear a record had

been kept of its previous condition. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[47] See Lecture VIII., p. 312, Figs. 178, 179.

[48] See Lecture VIII., p. 313, Fig. 180.

[49] Much discussion has taken place as to who this Pietro--“Petrus

Romanus Civis”--was. Virtue, as quoted by Walpole, says it was

Pietro Cavallini, but he was only a child when this work was done.

The ciforium in the Church of St. Paul without the Walls bears

this inscription; †HOC OPUS FECIT ARNOLFUS CUM SUO SOCIO

PETRO!! Monsegnor Xavier Barbier de Montault, who wrote a

chapter for Mr. Parker’s work on Rome, says that this was Pietro

Cavallini. If so, he was probably the father of the more celebrated

artist. The date of the work last named is 1285, being sixteen years

later than that at Westminster.

[50] For east and west windows, see “Digression concerning Windows,”

inserted between Lectures VII. and VIII.

[51] For illustration, see Lecture IV., Fig. 109.

[52] More recently, on opening out other walled-up arches, etc., the

greater part of this substructure has been found. The fragments--about

2000 in number--have been fitted together and built up in their old

place. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[53] Since this was written, the church has gained additional interest

through the opening out of the wall paintings, which probably formed a

sort of reredos over each of the small altars which stood against the

Norman piers in the nave. (G. G. S.)

[54] This is really somewhat later. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[55] This notion has since been entirely disproved, and the architect

proved to have been a member of an English family. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[56] For illustration, see Lecture IV., Fig. 87.

[57] See Lecture III. p. 121, Fig. 82.

[58] For a bay of this chapter-house, see “Digression concerning

Windows,” inserted between Lectures VII. and VIII. Fig. 170.

[59] See Lecture XV., vol. ii.

[60] For illustration, see Lecture IV. p. 164.

[61] The practical and universally acknowledged success of the Assize

Courts at Manchester, as compared with those at Liverpool, speaks

volumes as to the _rationale_ of our style. (G. G. S.)

[62] It is amusing to observe the triumphant tone with which modern

writers delight to parade the bits of untruthfulness which they chance

to find in ancient Classic and other structures. I wonder whether the

old architects would enjoy the compliment if they could see works of

_our_ day. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[63] For illustration, see Lecture III., Fig. 81.

[64] See Lecture IV., Fig. 87.

[65] The manner in which our glass painters turn out these

fragments--more precious than gold--to make way for their (often vile)

memorial windows is only paralleled by the ruthlessness with which they

tear away the iron-work which once sustained the painted glass. (G. G.

S. 1878).

[66] There seems to be a perfect crusade going on against these relics

which give such a charm to our villages, though nothing shows more

painfully the contrast between the tastefulness of former times and the

tastelessness of the present than a comparison between these despised

remains and the structures by which they are constantly being replaced.

(G. G. S.)

[67] Or how were stone gables made to fit themselves to a _thatched_

roof? (G. G. S. 1878).

[68] A practice now happily _long_ discontinued. (G. G. S. 1878).

[69] See Lecture III., pp. 107, 108.

[70] See Lecture V., Fig. 122.

[71] To follow up these studies well, it will be desirable to have an

introduction to the authorities, which may exempt you from a galling

system of _espionage_ for many years prevalent in this cathedral. (G.

G. S. 1878.)

[72] See Lecture V., Fig. 113.

[73] See Lecture XII., vol. ii.

[74] See Lecture XIV., vol. ii.

[75] See Lecture III., Fig. 79; and Lecture V., Fig. 110.

[76] See Lecture V., p. 183, Fig. 115; also “Digression concerning

Windows” inserted between Lectures VII. and VIII.

[77] It is melancholy to think how our privileges are neglected! The

Architectural Museum itself is a _perfect mine_ of the finest objects

of study; yet how insufficient are the uses made of it. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[78] Since I wrote this--eleven years ago--the tide has turned. We are

too apt to follow _rages_ and mere _fashions_. We were, when I wrote,

becoming too French; we have since got to think of French architecture

with a self-righteous horror. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[79] For illustrations, see Lecture III., p. 82, Figs. 20, 21.

[80] Many original capitals from the Sainte Chapelle are lying in the

open air in the gardens of the Hôtel Cluny. The most precious morsels

which can be conceived! (G. G. S. 1878.)

[81] When I wrote this, they were double-locked in the old

_schatzzimmer_, but they are now displayed in the triforium gallery.

(G. G. S. 1878.)

[82] I mean the Romanesque architecture of _Lombardy_: not that of the

_Lombard Kings_, which was probably a mere version of the Basilican.

See note on this subject to Lecture I. (G. G. S. 1878).

[83] The small secular Basilica, called the “_Basilica Jovis_” built, I

think, by Domitian on the Palatine Hill, proves more clearly than any

other building I know how directly our churches are derived from the

old Halls of Justice. The recent excavations have shown both the marble

_cancelli_ which parted off the apse, and the altar within it for the

administrative oath. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[84] Surely we may claim it now! (G. G. S. 1878.)

[85] For illustrations, see Lecture V. p. 199, Fig. 121.

[86] For illustration, see “Digression concerning Windows,” inserted

between Lectures VII. and VIII.

[87] So rapidly do _fashions_ change that, though when I wrote the

above I expected to be found fault with for speaking so well of _late_

styles, I am now far behind the age! Sixteen years earlier I had done

the same at the risk, nay, with the certainty, of being pronounced a

heretic by some of the very persons who now think the latest Mediæval

art the best, and that far later than Mediæval _better still_. (G. G.

S. 1878.)

[88] Those who most despised the less _foreign_ and the less _early_

men, are, in many cases, those who have subsequently rejected all that

was foreign, and all that was early; if not yet, all that is Mediæval.

(G. G. S. 1878.)

[89] I fear my love of the early styles has led me to be unfaithful to

my theory. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[90] The French variety of our style has not only been vulgarised by

_exaggeration_, but still more by _ignorance_ and _incapacity_. The

hideousness of the capitals constantly palmed off as _French_ would

surpass belief if we were not used to it! (G. G. S. 1878.)

[91] I must mention, as noble exceptions to this, the restoration, by

Mr. Hardman, of the east window of Okeover Church, Derbyshire; and of

two windows in the north aisle of Gloucester Cathedral, which are works

deserving the highest praise. (G. G. S.)

[92] I fear this term only applies to him in respect of his liberality

in this particular. (G. G. S. 1878.)

[93] I cannot but feel that our glass painters fail grievously in real

progress. Even those who are really acquainted with their art too

frequently so _scamper_ over it as to render their figures and subjects

_mere caricatures_. The majority really know nothing about their art,

and these are the favourites with the public! Another section, who

really understand what art is, and are able to practise it, proudly set

at naught its harmony with the architecture in which it is set. (G. G.

S. 1878.)

[94] If the local and other architects who feel themselves to be open

to this charge would reconsider their ways, and determine henceforth to

devote themselves to the conservation of all the antiquities which pass

through their hands, they would earn and receive the hearty support of

all who love and value our ancient buildings, as well as securing the

gratitude of future generations. (G. G. S.)

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