EXAMPLES OF SYMBOLISM CONTINUED
We come now, according to the plan we laid down, to speak of the
symbolism of some particular features of a church, which do not fall
so well under any of the four heads which we have been considering.
And firstly, of windows.
The primary idea shadowed forth in every one of the styles, is the
saying of our Lord to His disciples, _ye are the light of the world_.
More simply set forth at first, this notion acquired, in the course of
time, various methods of expression, and was subjected to different
modifications; but we must retain it as the ground work or we shall be
in danger of mistaking the true meaning of ancient church architects.
In Norman, then, and early English, the single lights north and south,
set forth the Apostles and Doctors who have shined forth in their time
as the lights of the Church: and the rich pattern of flowerwork
wherewith the stained glass in them was decked, represented the
variety of graces in each. But to have symbolised the servants without
the Master, the members without the Head, had been at variance with
all the Catholic Church has ever practised. Looking therefore to the
east end, we behold that well-known feature, the Triplet: setting
{xci} forth the Most Holy and Undivided Trinity. [Footnote 58] Nor is
this all: to denote that all the Church has, and all She is, is from
above, the string course, springing from the eastern triplet, runs
round the whole church (often both within and without,) binding it, as
it were, in and connecting every other light, with those at the east.
Again, the Western Door, as we shall see, symbolised Christ: and two
lights, typical of His two natures, are therefore generally placed
over it. There are, undoubtedly, instances of western triplets: though
we think that the Camden Society has well explained these.
[Footnote 58: We read, in the legend of S. Barbara, that, being
confined by her father in a room where were two windows only, she
added a third, by way of setting forth this Mystery.]
In some cases, there is a series of couplets on each side of the
church: and, taking the hint from Durandus, we may interpret this
arrangement of the mission of the Apostles two and two.
A series of triplets as in Salisbury cathedral, and the Lady Chapel of
Bristol, is very rare: and, of course, not objectionable on any other
grounds than that of the too cheap use of a most beautiful feature.
So far all is simple: but as we approach the decorated style, the
symbolism becomes excessively complicated. The principal doctrines of
the Catholic Church are set forth in each window: and to unravel the
whole of these is often a task of no small difficulty. We shall
proceed to give a few examples, with the explanation which appears to
us probable: entreating the reader to remember, that if in any
instance our conjectures should appear unfounded, the failure of
probability in one case throws no discredit on the others, and still
less does it invalidate the system. Durandus's silence on the language
of tracery is easily explained by the consideration, that assign as
late a date as we will to the {xcii} publication of his work, it came
forth while the Early English style was yet in existence: and his
silence on triplets only proves, what is well known to
ecclesiologists, that they are far less common in foreign than in our
own architecture.
In Norman windows the wheel window is conspicuous. This, whether
formed with the _radii_ like those of Barfreston, or of the Temple
church, represent (as we shall presently observe that Norman symbolism
usually _does_ represent) an historical fact: namely, the martyrdom of
S. Catherine. The celebrity of this Virgin Martyr may tend to explain
why she should be so far honoured: a celebrity which has descended to
our own day in the common sign of the Cat and Wheel: as well as the
firework so denominated.
Of Norman triplets there are not many to which we can refer. The tower
of Winchester, however, presenting one on each face, is a noble
example. The southeastern transept of Rochester, though later, is
equally in point: it contains two triplets, far apart, and one
disposed above the other. The west front of S. Etienne at Caen is a
well-known instance.
The earliest symbolism of Early English triplets represented the
Trinity alone; the Trinity in Unity was reserved for a somewhat later
period. And this was typified by the hood moulding thrown across the
three lights. At other times a quatre-foiled, or cinque-foiled, circle
was placed at some little distance above the triplet: thus typifying
the Crown which befits the Majesty of the King of Kings. And the same
Crown is often exhibited above the western couplet. But, for as much
as we are 'compelled by the Christian verity to acknowledge every
person by Himself to be God and Lord,' a crown is sometimes
represented over each light of the triplet, as in Wimborne minster.
{xciii}
Another method of representing the same doctrine was by a simple
equilateral triangle for a window: whether plain, of which there are
many examples, or with the toothed ornament, as in the famous example
at York minster.
S. Giles's at Oxford has windows, the tracery of which will serve as
an example of many: it has _three tre_-foiled lights, with _three_
quatre-foiled circles, arranged triangle-wise in the head.
This type is a little varied in S. Mary Magdalene's church, in the
same city, by the introduction of the ogee form.
Berkeley church has a wheel window containing _three_ quatre-foils:
the three spaces left between them and the line being _tre_-foiled.
The east windows of Dunchurch and Fen Stanton have been explained in
the publications of the Cambridge Camden Society: the former in their
'Few Words to Church-Builders,' the latter in their illustrations of
monumental brasses. Part iv.
The south transept of Chichester cathedral is a glorious specimen of
decorated symbolism. In the gable is a Marygold, containing two
intersecting equilateral _tri_-angles: the _six_ apices of these are
_sex_-foiled; the interior _hex_-agon is beautifully worked in _six_
leaves. The lower window seven lights: in the head is an equilateral
spherical _tri_-angle, containing a large _tre_foil, intersected by a
smaller _tre_-foil. Here we have the Holy Trinity, the Divine
Attributes, the perfection of the Deity.
A window in Merton College chapel has _three_ lights: with a circle in
the head containing _six sex_-foils.
Broughton, Oxon, has in the head of one of its windows a circle,
containing two intersecting equilateral triangles, the _six_ apices,
and _six_ spaces around, being _tre_-foiled.
{xciv}
The east end of Lincoln, though far inferior to the south transept of
Chichester, is nevertheless highly symbolical. The east window of each
of the aisles has _three_ lights, with _three_ foliated circles,
disposed _triangle_-wise in the head. The great east window has eight
lights in two divisions, each whereof has _three_ foliated circles in
the head: and in the apex of the window is a circle containing seven
foliations. The upper window has a circle of eight foliations in the
head: and in the apex of the gable is an equilateral trefoil.
The next element introduced was the consideration of the Six
Attributes of the Deity. One of the simplest examples was to be found
in the west window of the north aisle of S. Nicholas, at Guildford: a
plain circle, containing six _tre_-foils: these are arranged in two
_tri_-angles, each containing _three tre_-foils, and the two sets are
varied.
The clerestory of Lichfield cathedral (circ. 1300), is a series of
spherical _tri_-angles, each containing _three tre_-foils.
A similar clerestory occurs in the north-west transept of Hereford
cathedral, and the same idea is repeated in its triforium: a series of
_three tre_-foiled lights, with _three_ circles in the head.
The east end of Lichfield symbolises most strikingly the same glorious
doctrine. The apse is _tri_-gonal: the windows of each side are the
same: each is of _three_ lights, with six _tre_-foils (emblematical of
the six attributes) disposed above in the form of an equilateral
_tri_-angle.
The east end of Chichester is rather earlier, but introduces yet
another element. Here we have a triplet: and at some height above it,
a wheel-window of seven circles: symbolising therefore eternity and
perfection.
{xcv}
The triforium and clerestory of Carlisle are singular symbols of the
doctrine of the Trinity. The former has in each bay three adjacent
equal lancets. The latter is a series of triplets; the central window
in each being composed of three lights. We may observe, by the way,
that three _adjacent_ equal lancets are hardly ever found, whatever
the reason may be. We know but of three examples: in the churches of
Bosham, Sussex, Godalming, Surrey, and S. Mary-le-Crypt, Gloucester:
and in all these cases they occupy the same position, the south east
end of the chancel, or chancel aisle.
Dorchester church, Oxfordshire, has for one of its windows an
equilateral spherical triangle with three heads, or knops, one at each
angle.
We are now in a purely decorated age. And as one of its earliest
windows we may mention that in the Bishop of Winchester's Palace at
Southwark. It was a wheel, and contained two intersecting equilateral
_tri_-angles: around them were _six sex_-foiled triangles the hexagon
in the centre containing a star of _six_ greater and _six_ smaller
rays. Here, of course, the Blessed Trinity and the divine and human
natures were set forth. [Footnote 59]
[Footnote 59: We may perhaps be allowed to say a few words here on
the subject of those singular windows which the Cambridge Camden
Society has called _Lychnoscopes_.
It appears, that in Early English churches, the westernmost window
on the south side of the chancel is both lower than, and in other
ways (particularly by a transom) distinguished from the rest. It is
sometimes merely a square aperture, as in some churches in the Weald
of Sussex: sometimes a small ogee-headed light, as in old Shoreham:
sometimes, where the south side of the chancel is lighted by a
series of lancets, the westernmost, as in Chiddingfold, Sussex, is
transomed, where the others end, and carried down lower; sometimes
the lower part appears to have been _originally_ blocked, as in
Kemerton, Gloucestershire, and Kingstone next Lewes, Sussex:
sometimes there are remains of clamps, as at Buckland, Kent,
sometimes of shutters. Again, sometimes there are two, one north,
the other south of the chancel: sometimes the same arrangement is
found S.E. of the nave. On the other hand, it is never found in any
but a parish church: never in late work: seldom is it ornamented. We
will give a few remarkable instances. I. _Dinder_, Somersetshire.
Here there is a double lychnoscope, north and south: the date is
late Early English, and the specimen is unique from there being a
rude moulding in the window arch. 2. _Othery_, Somersetshire. The
lychnoscope itself is here blocked: it is square-headed, and of two
lights: date probably Early Decorated. The church is cruciform, and
a central perpendicular tower was subsequently erected. One of the
diagonal buttresses is thrown out at a distance of some three feet
from the window, so as to hide it: and an oblique square hole has
been cut through the masonry of the buttress. This is the more
remarkable, because there are stalls in the chancel, of
perpendicular work, which would seem to render any window in that
position useless. 3. _Christon_, Somersetshire. Here, _almost close
to the ground_, is a horizontal slit which appears never to have
been glazed. This is an early Norman church. So at Albury, Surrey,
at the S.E. end of the south aisle. 4. _S. Appolline_, Guernsey.
This church is of the same date as, or may be earlier than, the
last. The windows are rude and square-headed slits: the lychnoscope
is transomed. 5. _Preston_, Sussex. There are three windows in the
south of the chancel, which rise one above the other, like sedilia,
to the east. 6. _Loxton_, Somersetshire. This is an Early English
church with a south western tower serving as porch. From the eastern
side of this a long slit is carried through the nave wall, a
distance of some twenty feet, and exactly commanding a view of the
altar. It is _grated_ at the west end, not glazed: the eastern end
has long been blocked up. Way is made for it by a bulge of the wall
in the angle formed towards the east by the tower and nave. This
seems to form a kind of connecting link between the hagioscope and
the lychnoscope.
With these windows we will venture to connect those extremely rare
ones, three adjacent, unconnected, equal, lancets, as occurring of
the same date at the same position. There is again another kind of
lychnoscope only found where the chancel has aisles. A panel of the
parclose, or wooden screen, behind the longitudinal stalls, is
sometimes found pierced with a small quatrefoil, at the S.W. part of
the chancel. This is vulgarly called a confessional. It seems,
however, clearly connected with the lychnoscope. Examples are found
at Erith, Kent, and Sundridge in the same county. Perhaps also the
curious slit in the south wall of the chancel of S. Michael's
church, Cambridge, communicating with a south chantry chapel is
another variety.
From the above facts we deduce the following remarks: 1. That the
necessity for a lychnoscope must in some cases have been very
urgent: as may be proved by the example, at Othery, where a buttress
is much injured to form one. 2. But yet this need was not universal,
because there are many churches in which the arrangement does not
occur. 3. That it appears, strictly speaking, a parochial
arrangement, not being found in cathedral or collegiate churches. 4.
That smaller buildings rather than larger are marked with it: it
seldom occurs where there are aisles to the chancel. 5. That, where
employed, lychnoscopes were only used occasionally; else the
shutters which have evidently sometimes existed, would have been
useless. 6. That they are very seldom ornamented, and never have
stained glass. 7. That in the Perpendicular era they generally,
though not universally, ceased to be used. 8. That, a large sill
seems to have been a requisite to them. 9. That, where the upper
part is glazed, the lower part often was not, as in the Decorated
lychnoscope at Beckford, Gloucestershire. The principal hypotheses
to explain the use of this arrangement are: 1. Dr. Rock's. That it
was a contrivance by which lepers might see the Elevation of the
Host. But the structure of the greater part of these windows forbids
this idea: many instances occur in which it is splayed away from the
Altar, none (except that at Loxton, and a doubtful case at
Winscombe, Somersetshire, where a perpendicular addition has been
made) in which it is splayed towards it. 2. That of the Cambridge
Camden Society, that it was for watching the Paschal light. But
this, besides being _à priori_ improbable is refuted by that at
Othery. Here the eye has to look through two apertures at some
distance from each other, and therefore can command only a very
small field on exactly the opposite side of the chancel. 3. It has
been imagined by some that it was for confession. The idea of
confession near an altar sufficiently refutes itself; but
furthermore, some of these openings are so very low down that the
thing would be impossible. Two solitary facts more, though they
throw no light on the subject, may yet be mentioned. 1. In the
church of S. Amaro, near Funchal, in Madeira, is a grating at the
west-end like that at Loxton. Its use is _now_ said to be to cool
the church, though in that case one should have expected to meet it
elsewhere. 2. In Sennen church by the Land's End, there is said to
have been a lychnoscope (now no longer existing) used to take in the
tithe-milk. We may gather on the whole, 1. that lychnoscopes could
not have been used to look into a church 2. Nor to hand anything in
or out. Both these are sufficiently disproved by Othery, 3. Nor to
speak through. But one can hardly imagine any other use, except it
were to look _out_ of the church. We are inclined to think that it
was in some way connected with the ringing of the bells, or of the
sancte bell. Where the tower is central, we very often find it: as
at Old Shoreham and Alfriston, Sussex: at Loxton it is evidently for
some purpose connected with the tower. So in Beckford, which has a
central tower; and Uffington, Berks, a cross church. And the place
where the sancte bell was rung is exactly between a double
lychnoscope. But what the particular use might have been we will not
pretend to guess. We will conclude this long note by a question as
to the authority for calling the small chancel door, the _Priest's
Door_. It is never (originally) furnished with a lock, but always
with an interior bar, thus showing that it could only have been used
from the inside. So the priest could never have _entered_ the church
by this way, unless the door were previously opened for him.]
[End footnote]
{xcvi}
The symbolism of the more complicated decorated windows it is next to
impossible to explain. Carlisle and York have doubtless their
appropriate meaning; but who will now pretend to expound it?
{xcvii}
One exception we may make:--the east window of Bristol cathedral. It
is of seven lights, but so much prominence is given to the three
central ones, as strongly to set forth the Most Holy Trinity: over
them is a crown of six leaves and by the numerous winged foliations
around them, the Heavenly Hierarchy may, very probably, be understood.
{xcviii}
II. Doors
Durandus has given us a clue to the symbolical meaning which these
generally present, by directing our attention to that saying of our
Lord's, _I am the door_. And this, uttered as tradition reports it to
have been, in reference to the Gate of the Temple, on which the
Saviour's eyes were then fixed, gives additional force to the
allusion.
In small churches, doors are seldom the subject of much symbolical
ornament, except in the Norman style; but in cathedrals, some of the
most strikingly figurative arrangements are often thrown into them.
The Person, the Miracles, or the Doctrines of our Lord are here
frequently set forth. He is sometimes, especially in the tympanum of
Norman doors, as at Egleton in Rutland, represented as described in
the Apocalyptic vision; with a sword in His mouth. More frequently,
however, with His Blessed Mother; in order, perhaps, to connect His
_entrance_ into the world with ours into the Church, which He thereby
gathered together. This in the south entrance of Lincoln minster, is
enclosed in a quatre-foil: because the birth of Christ is announced by
the four evangelists; and angels are represented around it in
attitudes of adoration. A singular, and indeed irreverent symbol, is
to be seen in a door of Lisieux church: the Holy Ghost descending on
the Blessed Virgin, and the infant Saviour following Him. In the
entrance to the cloisters of Norwich cathedral, the door arch is
filled by nine niches, the central one being occupied by the Saviour,
the others by saints. But this arrangement is much more common in
French churches: where two, or even three rows of saints in the
architrave are not uncommon: witness the south and west doors of S.
Germain, at Amiens, and a west door of S. Etienne, at Beauvais. {xcix}
This is sometimes, in late Flamboyant work, carried to an absurd
extent: in a south door of Gisors, two niches actually hang down out
of the soffit. Early English doors are generally double, thereby
representing the Two Natures of our Saviour: but embraced by one arch,
to set forth His One Person. So the celebrated door in Southwell
minster: the west door in the Galilee of Ely cathedral: the entrance
to the chapter House, at Salisbury; the west door of the same: so the
decorated west door of York; so the door to the Chapter House there,
of which the inscription truly says: _Ut Rosa Phlos phlorum, sic est
domus ista Domorum:_so the west door and entrance to the Chapter House
of Wells. The west door of Higham Ferrars has the Saviour's triumphal
entrance into Jerusalem, over the double western doors. And this is
the case in one of the doors of Seville cathedral. Both these connect
the ideas of His entrance into the temporal, with that of ours into
the spiritual, Jerusalem. In these symbolical doorways, we have one
proof of the immeasurable superiority of English over French
architecture: compare any of the above named with the celebrated west
door of Amiens, with its twenty-two sovereigns in its soffit. Again,
by way of contrast to the second Adam, by whom we enter into Heaven,
we sometimes, especially in Norman churches, have the Forbidden Tree,
with Adam and Eve in the tympanum: setting forth the one man by whom
sin entered into the world.
The Crucifixion seldom occurs over doors: while over porches a
crucifix is very common. The cause of the difference is explained by a
consideration that the former are shut, the latter open: and 'when
Thou hadst overcome the sharpness of Death, Thou didst _open_ the
kingdom of heaven to all believers.' Indeed it may almost be asserted
that a crucifix is never seen over a {c} closed door, except where it
forms a part of the usual representation of the Trinity. For the
Trinity is also, in Norman churches, there represented: and that not
inappropriately: inasmuch as the Trinity is the beginning of all
things. A Holy Lamb is sometimes found in Norman tympana: as saith the
Saviour, _I am the door of the sheep_. A hasty glance at Durandus
[Footnote 60] might lead us to imagine that we should find the
Apostles set forth under the similitude of doors: but he there
probably refers to the well-known passage in the Apocalypse. Apoc.
xxi, 14.
[Footnote 60: Durand. i, 26.]
This however leads us to another, and that a totally different,
meaning attached to doors. We have already noticed the fact, that many
Norman and Early English mouldings refer to various kinds of
martyrdom: those which do so occur more frequently on doors than
anywhere else; for it is written, 'We must through much tribulation
enter into the kingdom of God.' And here we may observe a very curious
and beautiful progression in symbolism. In the early ages of
Christianity, it was a matter requiring no small courage to make an
open profession of Christianity, to join one's self to the Church
Militant:--and this fact has left its impress in the various
representations of martyrdom surrounding the nave-doors of Norman and
the first stage of Early English churches: as well as in the frightful
forms which seem to deter those who would enter. But in process of
time, as the world became evangelised, to be a member of the visible
Church was an easy matter: the difficulty was transferred from an
entrance into _that_, to the so living, as to have part in the
Communion of Saints:--in other words, to an entrance into the Church
Triumphant. And therefore in late Early English, and Decorated, the
symbols which had occupied the nave-doors in the former period, are
now transferred to the chancel arch.
{ci}
The different agricultural operations, the signs of the zodiac, and
occupations of various kinds, sometimes found on the _outside_ of
Norman doors, signify that we must turn our backs on, and leave behind
us, all worldly cares and employments, if we would enter into the
Kingdom of God. In later porches, true love knots are sometimes found
on the bosses: because part of the service of Holy Matrimony was
performed there. The serpent, in which the handle is so universally
fashioned, has probably reference to that text, 'They shall lay their
hands upon serpents,' to signify that God's arm will protect us, when
engaging, or about to engage in, His service. For the serpent with his
tail in his mouth is not a Christian, and indeed by no means a
desirable, emblem of eternity, and therefore the door handle cannot be
so interpreted.
The doors are of course placed near the west end: for it is only by
way of the Church Militant that we can hope to enter the Church
Triumphant. One door, indeed, the priest's door, conducts at once into
the chancel. Durandus is probably right in interpreting this of
Christ's coming into the world; though it involves a little confusion
of symbolism, inasmuch as the chancel, properly speaking, denotes the
blessed place which He left: not the abode to which he came. It is to
be noted as an instance of the decline of symbolism in the
Perpendicular age, that in churches which have aisles to the chancel
of that date, we sometimes, as at Bitton, Gloucestershire, Godalming,
Surrey, and Wivelsfield and Isfield, Sussex, find an entrance at the
east end of the south aisle. Though used as a priest's door, this is
entirely to be blamed: what shall we say then of modern churches,
which have two doors at the east end, one on {cii} each side of the
altar, as Christchurch, Brighton? In Seville cathedral, a late,
although fine flamboyant building, there are large doors at the east
end of each choir aisle.
Porches are usually on the south side. For as the east was considered
in an especial manner connected with the Kingdom of Heaven, so was the
north imagined to be under the Prince of the Power of the Air. It is
curious how diametrically opposed in both these ideas were
Christianity and Paganism. For as by the latter the west was known as
'the better country, where lay the Isles of the Blest in their
abundant peace,' so in the north dwelt the deathless and ageless
Hyperboreans: whose state was the model of good government and secure
happiness. That the belief of our ancestors is not yet extinct, a very
slight knowledge of our country churchyards will prove: the north side
of the churchyard has generally not more than one or two graves. To be
buried there is, in the language of our eastern counties, to be buried
_out of Sanctuary_: and the spot is appropriated to suicides,
unbaptised persons, and excommunicates. A particular portion is, in
some churchyards of Devonshire, separated for the second class and
called the _chrisomer_. Where the contrary is the case, it may be
worth inquiring how far it does not arise from the accidental position
of the Churchyard Cross on the north side. There the spell seems
broken: and the villagers' graves cluster around it, as if the
presence of that sacred symbol were a sufficient protection to the
sleeping dust. A remarkable instance of this occurs at Belleville,
between Dieppe and Abbeville, in Normandy.
The doors in the transepts are, in small churches, almost invariably
east or west: much more frequently the latter. This, however, is
probably not symbolical: but an arrangement adopted to prevent any
resemblance in the porches and transepts:--and it is a rule which
needs to be much impressed on modern church builders.
{ciii}
The rule as to the western position of the doors, seems to apply
generally to the churchyard.
It is worthy of remark that in the matter of doors, Protestantism
presents us, as is so frequently the case, with a very unintended
piece of symbolism. When we see, as in the beautiful church of Bisley,
Gloucestershire, _thirteen_ different openings, with external
staircases, made into the church, through windows and elsewhere, can
we forbear thinking of him who cometh not by the doors into the
sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way?
III. Chancel Arch and Rood Screen
We come now to speak of the chancel arch and the rood screen, two of
the most important features in a church. These, as separating the
choir from the nave, denote literally the separation of the clergy
from the laity: but symbolically the division between the Militant and
Triumphant Churches: that is to say, the Death of the Faithful. The
first great symbol which sets this forth, is the Triumphal Cross: the
Image of Him [Footnote 61] who by His Death had overcome Death, and
has gone before His people through the valley of its shadow.
[Footnote 61: 'Let us consider Him,' says Bishop Hall, 'now, after a
weary conflict with the Devil, looking down from the Triumphal
Chariot of the Cross on His Church.']
The images of Saints and Martyrs appear in the lower panelling, as
examples of faith and patience to us. The colours of the rood screen
itself represent their passion and victory: the crimson sets forth the
one, the gold the other. The curious tracery of net-work typifies the
obscure manner in which heavenly things are set forth, while we look
at them from the Church Militant. And for as much as the Blessed
Martyrs passed from this {civ} world to the next through sore
torments, the mouldings of the chancel arch represent the various
kinds of sufferings through which they went. Faith was their support,
and must be ours: and Faith is set forth either in the abstract, by
the limpet moulding on the chancel arch; or on the screen, as in
Bishop's Hull, Somersetshire, by the Creed in raised gilt letters: or
is represented by some notable action of which it was the source: so
in Cleeve, Somersetshire, the destruction of a dragon runs along, not
only the rood screen, but the north parclose also. But in that the
power of evil spirits may be exercised against us till we have left
this world, but not after, horrible forms are sometimes sculptured in
the west side of the chancel arch. The foregoing remarks may perhaps
explain what has been felt by some ecclesiologists as a difficulty:
how it happens, since the chancel is more highly ornamented than the
nave, that it is the western, or nave side, not the eastern or chancel
side, of the chancel arch which invariably receives the greatest share
of ornament. The straitness of the entrance to the Kingdom of Heaven
is set forth by the excessive narrowness of Norman chancel arches. And
the final separation of the Church Triumphant from everything that
defileth was almost invariably represented by the Great Doom painted
in fresco over the rood screen: of which there are still several
examples, as the celebrated one in Trinity church, Coventry: and many
more might be found, if the whitewash in that place were scraped off.
And not only is the judgment of the world, but that of individuals
here set forth: on the south side of the chancel wall of Preston
church, Sussex, is a fresco of S. Michael weighing the souls: the
Devil stands by, eager to secure his prize, but by the intervention of
the Blessed Virgin, the scale preponderates in favour of the sinner.
{cv} There might probably be an altar to the Blessed Virgin under this
picture. Also deeds of faith are represented in similar positions:
--so in the same church on the north chancel wall, is the fresco of
the Martyrdom of S. Thomas of Canterbury. We have already noticed the
triplicity, in some instances, of Norman chancel arches. A very
curious triple chancel arch is to be seen at Capel-le-Ferne, Kent. We
may also refer to those singular double ones, Wells and Finedon, and
in another manner, Darlington, in Durham, and Barton, in Cumberland.
It may be well, finally, to note the entire absence in the ground
plans of our churches of any reference to Purgatory. The only instance
in which chancel and nave are separated by any intervening object, is
the chantry of Bishop Arundell in Chichester cathedral. Of the triple
division of the church by two (so to speak) chancel arches, we have
already spoken.
IV. Monuments
We now proceed to _Monumental Symbolism_. But it will be proper first
to consider a very curious subject: namely the reason of the
difference between the personages with which the effigies of the
departed were of old time, and are now, surrounded. In the former case
they were always real: Our Lady, S. John, S. Pancras, S. Agatha, and
so on. In the latter, they are always allegorical: Faith, Virtue,
Courage, Eloquence and the like. Nay, in the very ground which is
common to the two--the representations of angels--we may observe a
great difference: in modern monuments any angel is represented: in
those of ancient date the particular one is often named: S. Gabriel,
S. Raphael, etc. Now there are, we think, three good reasons to be
assigned for this.
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I. The _enlightened_, or in plainer terms, the sceptical character of
the present age. Unaccustomed to view any great examples of heroic
devotion and self-sacrifice now, we naturally, though scarcely
allowing it to ourselves, begin to doubt whether there ever were any
such. In thinking of Patience, our forefathers would naturally have
had S. Vincent presented to their mind: but we, who, some of us have
scarcely heard of his name, and some, are totally ignorant of his
character, have of course no such ideas suggested. So again, where our
ancestors would have represented S. Lawrence, we content ourselves
with a representation of Fidelity. And it is in accordance with this
easy and self-indulgent age, rather to personify a thing, which as
having never had real existence, cannot be brought into comparison
with ourselves, than by representing a really existing person, to run
the risk of a contrast between his virtues and our own.
2. This allegorising spirit is more in accordance with the general
paganism of our architectural designs: though, be it observed, a
feature of the very worst and most corrupt state of Paganism. It is
worth noting that in heathen countries, evil qualities have always
been personified before good. Paganism like every other false system,
became worst at its close. In the early times of Grecian mythology the
attributes of purity, and truth, and mercy, were so strongly felt to
reside in the gods, that a separate personification of them was
needless: whereas strife, and violence and fury, qualities which had
no place in heaven, demanded, and obtained a separate existence. But
in process of time, when the divinities themselves became invested
with the attributes of sinful humanity, the qualities of goodness
which were no longer supposed theirs, found separate embodiments and
expressions.
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3. We may assign as a reason for the difference we have noticed the
far greater reality with which our ancestors looked on the connections
subsisting between ourselves and the other world. Thus, tempests and
hurricanes, which we coldly explain on philosophical principles, they
considered as directly proceeding from the violence of evil spirits:
[Footnote 62] --earthquakes and volcanoes they regarded as outbreaks,
so to speak, of that place of punishment, which they believed locally
situated within the earth:--diseases and pestilences they held to be
the immediate work of the devil: madness and lunacy were, in their
view, synonymous with possession. Whether theirs, as it certainly was
the most pious, were not also the most philosophical view, has been so
ably discussed in the 'Church of the Fathers' under the chapter _S.
Anthony in Conflict_, that we need here only allude to it. But the
same spirit led them to adopt the effigies of those saints who had
been members of the same Church Militant with themselves, and who now
were members of that Triumphant Church which they hoped hereafter to
join: and its contrary leads us to adopt the cold, vague, dreamy
unsubstantialities of allegorism.
[Footnote 62: A Master of Philosophy travelling with others on the
way, when a fearful thunderstorm arose, checked the fear of his
fellows, and discoursed to them of the natural reasons of that
uproar in the clouds, and those sudden flashes wherewith they seemed
(out of the ignorance of causes) to be too much affrighted; in the
midst of his philosophical discourse, he was struck dead with that
dreadful eruption which he slighted. What could this be but the
finger of that God Who will have His works rather entertained with
wonder and trembling than with curious scanning? Neither is it to be
otherwise in those violent hurricanes, devouring earthquakes, and
more than ordinary tempests, and fiery apparitions which we have
seen and heard of; for however there be natural causes given of the
usual events of this kind, yet nothing hinders but the Almighty, for
the manifestations of His power and justice, may set spirits,
whether good or evil, on work, to do the same things sometimes in
more state and magnificence of horror.--Bishop Hall, 'The Invisible
World,' sect. vi.]
The earliest kind of monumental symbolism is that which represents the
trade or profession of the person commemorated. And these principally
occur on Lombardic slabs and Dos d'Anes. The distaff represents
{cviii} the mother of a family: [Footnote 63] a pair of gloves a
glover: [Footnote 64] so we have a pair of shears: and the like. But
the Cross constantly appears; and in a highly floriated form:
sometimes at its foot are three steps representing the Mount:
sometimes a Holy Lamb. [Footnote 65] And so ecclesiastical personages
have their appropriate symbols: so the chalice or the ring [Footnote
66] represents a priest:--another type is the hand raised in
benediction [Footnote 67] over a chalice: brasses abound in
symbolical imagery. The animal at the feet varies with the varying
circumstances of the deceased: a married lady has the dog, the emblem
of fidelity: with which we may compare the speech of Clytemnestra, of
her absent Lord, [Footnote 68]
[Greek text]
There are, doubtless, instances (there is one in Bristol, S. Peter's)
where the unmarried are so represented: but they are very rare, and
quite in the decline of the art. The knight again has, generally, a
terrier at his feet, as the emblem of courage: sometimes the
greyhound, [Footnote 69 ] the symbol of speed. Lord Beaumont
[Footnote 70] has an elephant: it is a bearing in his coat-armour.
[Footnote 63: See on this subject an interesting article in the
_Church of England Quarterly_, for September, 1841. ]
[Footnote 64: As in Fletching, Sussex.]
[Footnote 65: As in Lolworth, Cambridgeshire.]
[Footnote 66: As in S. Mary, Castlegate, York.]
[Footnote 67: As in Hedon, Yorkshire.]
[Footnote 68: Agamemnon, 606. (Ed. Dindorf.)]
[Footnote 69: As in Sir Grey de Groby, S. Alban's.]
[Footnote 70: Engraved in the 5th number of the Cambridge Camden
Society's _Illustrations of Monumental Brasses_.]
Early priests have a lion [Footnote 71] also at their feet; but this
typified their trampling on the devil: as servants of Him concerning
whom it is written, 'And the Devil shall go forth before [Footnote
72] His feet' They have also a dragon for the same reason. And this
position doubtless also has reference to the verse, 'Thou shalt tread
upon the lion [Footnote 73] and adder: the young lion and the dragon
shalt thou trample under feet.' In the decline of the art, effigies
have the crest of the departed at their feet.
[Footnote 71: As in Watton, Herts, and Cottingham, Yorkshire.]
[Footnote 72: Habaccuc III. v, _Et egredietur diabolus ante pedes
ejus_.]
[Footnote 73: Psalm xc. _Qui habitat_.]
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Whether those knights who are represented with crossed legs are to be
considered as crusaders, or at least as having taken the vow, is a
question which has been much discussed. The general belief seems now
to be in the negative:--and Mr. Bloxam in his work on Monumental
Architecture gives it as his opinion that this posture was chosen by
the artist, for the more graceful arrangement of the _surcoat_. And it
is to be remarked that some illuminations, as in the Life of S. Edward
the Confessor, in the Cambridge University Library, represent the
knights as sitting cross legged. For our own part we must confess that
we incline to the old belief:--as better supported by tradition, and
more in accordance with the general principles of Catholic artists.
The knight's hand is sometimes represented as resting on the hilt of
his sword:--or as it is called _drawing it_. We are astonished that a
writer in the _Quarterly Review_ should fall into this popular error:
especially when the idea was completely opposed to the whole course of
his argument. There can be no doubt that this typifies the
accomplishment of the vow, the taking which was set forth by the
crossed legs. The contrary--an act of war in the House of Peace--is
not for a moment to be thought of. As emblematical of deep humility,
some effigies are represented naked: some in shrouds: some, as
emaciated corpse: and sometimes, still more strikingly, the tomb will
be divided into two partitions: and while the departed appears in rich
vests, and with a gorgeous canopy above--below there is a skeleton, or
a worm eaten figure. There is a remarkable instance at Tewkesbury, in
the cenotaph of the last Lord Abbot: and we may refer to the monument
of William Ashton, in S. John's College chapel, Cambridge.
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The symbolism of ecclesiastics, lying principally in their vestments,
does not so much fall within the scope of this essay. The same may be
said of the allusion to the Holy Trinity in the benedictory attitude
of the bishop: and the distinction between the mitred abbot and the
bishop in the former holding his pastoral staff with the crook
inwards, as signifying his dominion to be _internal_, _i.e._ within
his own house;--the latter outwards, to set forth his external
dominion over his diocese.
The reception of the soul of the departed into Abraham's bosom is
often represented. Sometimes angels are bearing it, in the likeness of
a newborn child, (a figure symbolical of its having now returned into
its baptismal state of purity) and presenting it before the throne.
The founders or rebuilders of churches are known by the building which
they hold in their hands.
The carving of the _open seats_ is one of those parts of
ecclesiastical symbolism, which it is very hard to explain. The
monsters which constantly occur on them may be perhaps regarded as
typical of the evil thoughts and bad passions which a life of ease and
rest encourages, and it will be observed, that in the choir, a gentler
class of ideas often is suggested: we have here flowers and fruit, and
birds making their nests, and flocks feeding. There, are however,
certain other types to be found here, and also in string courses, and
corbel heads, of which we shall presently speak in terms of
disapprobation.
Nothing, with this exception, shows the exuberance and beauty of ideas
which distinguished the architects of the ages of Faith--and the depth
and variety of the scriptural knowledge we are pleased to deny
them--than their wood carvings. [Footnote 74]
[Footnote 74: The astonishing scriptural knowledge of Durandus may
be judged of from the Index at the end of the volume of texts quoted
by him. ]
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There is perhaps hardly a scriptural subject which they have not
handled: and it requires no small degree of ecclesiastical knowledge
to be able at all to comprehend many of their allusions: while
probably many more are lost to us. The Annunciation is one of the most
favourite topics. The almond tree blossoming in the flower pot--the
bud terminating in a cross or crucifix--the prayer desk at which the
Blessed Virgin kneels--the temple seen in the distance--the Holy Dove
descending on a ray of light--these are its general accompaniments.
The descent of our Saviour into hell--the delivery of souls--
'Magnaque; de magna praeda petita domo:'
the visions of the Apocalypse: the final doom: the passions and
triumphs of martyrs--all here find their expression.
V. Corbels, Gurgoyles, Poppy Heads, etc.
The corbels which occur in the interior of churches generally
represent the Heavenly Host--often with various instruments of music,
as if taking a share in the devotions of the worshippers. This idea is
most fully and beautifully carried out in late perpendicular roofs:
where the various orders of the heavenly hierarchy hover, with
outstretched wings, over the sacred building--an idea evidently
derived from the cherubim that spread their wings over the ark, and
the apostle's explanation, 'which things the angels desire to look
into.' Often, however, benefactors to the Church are here portrayed.
The gurgoyles, on the contrary, represent evil spirits as flying from
the holy walls: the hideousness of the figures, so often, by modern
connoisseurs, ridiculed or blamed, is therefore not without its
appropriate meaning.
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We must now say a few words on the least pleasing part of the study of
symbolism: we mean the satirical representations which record the
feuds between the secular and the regular clergy. Thus, in the
churches of the former, we have, principally as stallwork, figures of
a fox preaching to geese: in those of the latter an ass's head under a
cowl: or, which is very frequent, both in woodwork and as a gurgoyle,
the cowled double face. As a specimen of these designs, we may mention
the stalls [Footnote 75] in East Brent, Somersetshire. A fox hung by
a goose, with two cubs yelping at the foot of the gallows, a monkey at
prayers, with an owl perched over his head: another monkey holding a
halbert: a fox with mitre and staff, a young fox in chains, a bag of
money in his right paw, and geese and cranes on each side. To these
objectionable devices we may add those which to us appear simply
profane or indecent: [Footnote 76]such as the baptism of a dog in one
of the Stamford churches, and others in Northampton, S. Peter's, of
Norman date. One of the grossest which we have ever seen is to be
found on the north side of the chancel arch of Nailsea, Somersetshire.
[Footnote 75: Rutter's _Delineations_, p. 89. ]
[Footnote 76: It is fair to observe that our designating them so
_may_ be the effect of our own ignorance.]
On the towers of some Norman churches, the evangelistic symbols are
represented. So in Stow church, Lincolnshire. Tiles ought not to have
the cross on them: for though Christ is indeed the foundation of the
Church, yet these holy symbols should not be exposed to be trodden
under foot. Heraldic devices are here more proper, to signify the
worthlessness of worldly honours in the sight of God.
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