DEVELOPMENT OF SYMBOLISM
It is now our intention to attempt a brief sketch of the history of
symbolism, confining ourselves to its rise, progress, and decline in
England. For of its earlier development we have already had occasion
to speak, both in the first and in the eighth chapter, when we
referred to its use among the primitive Christians, and to such
particulars of information as could be gained concerning it from the
later fathers, and from mediaeval authors.
Among all nations the facts of Christianity have been received before
its doctrines. The inhabitants of a heathen country are first called
on to believe, as matter of history, that our Blessed Lord was
conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under
Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, before any attempt is
made to set before them the doctrine of the Atonement, the mystery of
the Trinity, or the compatibility of God's foreknowledge with man's
free action. And it is in the infancy of individuals, as in that of
nations. We may therefore, from all analogy, conclude, that the things
set forth in the earlier development of church art would be facts
rather than doctrines.
{cxx}
Now, if we look to Norman buildings, we shall find this to be the
case. Excepting the doctrine of the Holy Trinity (which, after all,
perhaps rather ranks, through all the stages of Christian art, under
the head of essential, than under that of intended symbolism), we
shall find an almost exclusive reference to history, in arrangements
and details. That God was the Creator of heaven and earth, is set
forth in door mouldings, and capitals, sometimes by the heavenly
constellations or signs of the zodiac, sometimes by the animals
brought to Adam to be named, sometimes by the references to
agriculture, which, as we have before seen, often occur. The
Incarnation of our Saviour is set forth, as it has been already
hinted, by representations so physical and earthly, as to be to our
eyes almost profane. The Fall of Man, which appears on the sides of
fonts, well reminds us of that stain which must be washed away in Holy
Baptism. A great many of the events of our Lord's life are sculptured
in various positions: above all, of course, His Passion. Again, duties
are symbolically represented, so in the chancel arch of Egleton,
Rutland, we have the figure of a deacon ringing a bell; doubtless to
remind the worshippers of the duty of attending God's house. And a
still more practical method of representing the evil consequences
attending the breach of duty, and one which speaks much of the
rudeness of the age, is where some local event well-known at the time
of the erection of the church, finds a commemoration in it. Thus
(though at a later epoch) among the capitals of the south transept of
Wells cathedral, the architect has represented a theft, which
doubtless, at the time, had made a considerable noise in that place.
In the first group, a man is seen stealing apples; then follows the
struggle and apprehension: finally, his trial and condemnation. And
such practical admonitions might not have been without their use.
Sometimes they are refined and exalted into such an one as may be seen
in the northern apse of S. Mary's, at Guildford, where heavenly and
earthly judgment are portrayed. {cxxi} Victory over the devil is
singularly enough symbolised in Oxford, S. Peter's, by the piers which
rest on, and crush, a monster. We have before noticed that Norman
architecture, true to its love of facts, delighted in the
representation of instruments of martyrdom, or the deeds of faith, as
the victory of S. George. The final doom was also a favourite subject;
so was the descent of Christ into hell. In fact, its whole character,
whether in string courses, tympana, capitals, or chancel arches, was
graphicalness, and that obtained sometimes at the expense of grace,
sometimes almost at that of decorum, but probably well adapted to the
particular development which the minds of the people had then reached.
One point we must remark, to the eternal honour of the Anglo-Norman,
and indeed also of the Saxon Church, deadly as was the hatred existing
between the two peoples, for at least a hundred and fifty years after
the conquest, it has left no symbolical trace, either in the churches
of the vanquishers, or of the vanquished. Much as the one had
suffered, and much as the other despised the conquered nation, this
feeling vanished in the house of God.
In advancing to Early English, we still find strong traces of the
historicalism of ornaments, both in some of the mouldings, as in the
toothed, and in the capitals, though the latter begin now to assume a
more allegorical form. Indeed, the observation seems worth making,
that this style is the only one which appears to have dealt much in
allegory, we mean in that sense which we have already attached to the
word. That is, it employs fictitious representations to set forth real
truths; as in Wells cathedral, the fall of the barren tree forms a
beautiful corbel. We do, however, find some traces of this in Norman
work, as the fable of the crow and the fox may occasionally be
discovered in it. {cxxii} The works of the creation were often set
forth, rather with reference to their beauty than from any other
reasons. Such as the birds making their nests in the thick foliage,
flowers, and fruit. Yet, on the whole, facts such as those which
principally occupied the attention of Norman architects, began rather
to find expression among the details, than to usurp any important part
in church arrangement. We are in possession of too little wood work of
this date--and in that many references of this kind were probably to
be found--to be able to speak with so much certainty as we can in the
later styles: but that this was the tendency of the progress of
architecture, it requires but little knowledge to discover. Impressed,
but evidently, now, not only essentially but intentionally, on every
building, was the doctrine of the Ever Blessed Trinity: for triplets
were so common at the east end as to form the rule of Early English
design. Fonts, instead of bearing a representation of the Fall of Man,
and thereby implying our need of regeneration, began to be octagonal,
thereby setting forth the doctrine itself, a strong confirmation of
our previous observation respecting facts and doctrines. The shape of
piers is also to be noticed. For there appears to have been almost a
rule, either that the octagonal and circular shape should alternate;
or that one aisle should present the one kind, the other the other.
This we can hardly, in our present state of knowledge, profess to
explain. Durandus's observations about windows, their splay and
shafts, are very curious: and again, he evidently recognises in the
tiebeams, the knitting together of the elect in one communion and
fellowship: a strong argument, this, that we are justified in
regarding arrangements, which arise from mechanical necessity, as
nevertheless truly and really symbolical. In the bases of piers we now
often find flowers, which indeed, sometimes, as in Rochester
cathedral, occur in transition work; principally the fleur de lys,
which we may interpret to signify that humility is the foundation of
all Christian graces.
{cxxiii}
On the whole, however, we conclude that in this style, while churches
taken as a whole became more symbolical, their details, as details,
became less so.
In proceeding to the next development of Catholic art, we are almost
afraid of expressing a belief, that Decorated, in its early dawn, gave
promise of a brighter day than it ever reached. It had not shown its
wonderful resources and capabilities in windows and flying buttresses,
before the boldness of its capitals and bases began to decline. We can
imagine that, had it so been ordered, Christian architecture might,
about the year 1300, have taken a different direction, and attained to
a glory, inconceivable to us--perhaps attainable only when the whole
Catholic Church shall be at unity. As it is, we cannot but consider,
that about that period, or a few years later, it took a wrong turn,
and being hurried in a short space through the hectic of a rare flush
of beauty, declined thenceforward slowly but surely. Now, if we ask,
why was this? it will lead us to look at Church history as connected
with the development of church architecture. Contemporary with the
change from Saxon to Norman (for we are none of those who hold that
the former extended till Oct. 14, 1065, and the latter began the next
day), was finally the victory of the Anglican Church over Paganism in
the conversion and civilisation of the Danes. Contemporary with the
appearance of Early English, was the great victory of the Church over
Erastianism, by the martyrdom of S. Thomas of Canterbury, and the
abrogation of the constitutions of Clarendon. But, hardly had Early
English finished its course of splendour, when while traces of rare
glory were developing daily, the statute of Mortmain began to tell
upon the Church: {cxxiv} and though the impulse already given yet
continued for some time to act, the end was near. No magnificent
cathedral was built after the full effects--not so much of that act,
as of the Erastianism which contrived and allowed it--were felt. The
nave of Winchester can hardly be called a solitary exception; because,
in truth, it may be doubted whether the pious exertions of William of
Wykeham were not, so far as concerns the actual beauty of his
cathedral, misplaced. Thenceforward, the State interfered more and
more with the Church; and not allowed to carry out her own designs, it
is no wonder if the latter quickly began to forget her own symbolical
language. After, for the first few years of the fourteenth century,
using it with precision and elegance before unattainable, she
thenceforward began to disuse it. We need not give examples of
decorated symbolism, because all that was new in it lay in its
windows: and these we have already discussed at considerable length.
And having sufficiently explained why there should be a decline, we
have only now to examine why that decline should have been so
different in England, France, and Italy. In England, from the time
that Edward IV directed the execution of Archbishop Scrope, when the
State interfered, it was with a strong arm, cramping and confining,
obliging the Church to confine herself to ritual observances, and
forbidding her to expatiate in the grand objects for which she was
ordained. Now could there be a more fitting expression of this than
the Perpendicular style? Does not its stiffness, its failure in
harmony, its want of power and adaptation, its continual introduction
of heraldry, its monotony, its breaking up by hard continued lines,
its shallowness, its meretriciousness, its display--set forth what we
know to have been the character of the contemporary Church? {cxxv }
Above all, do not the reintroduction of Horizontality, the Tudor arch,
the depressed pier, speak of her want of spirituality? Everything
teaches us that there was no want of power in her architects;
considered merely as specimens of art, King's College, and Henry the
Seventh's chapels, are matchless. And here and there we may trace some
tokens of vastness and holiness of conception worthy of a better age;
such as the Suffolk roofs, which, as it has been well said, never
attained their full development. It must be borne in mind, that
Perpendicular [Footnote 78] was the first style, which in its full
development was used first for a secular building. Far be it from us,
however, to depreciate the excessive magnificence it assumes in
shrines and chapels: indeed, this is one of the features which
Decorated has not, and the absence of which in that style renders it
possible to believe that a still more magnificent may be in store for
us. Perpendicular introduced no new element of symbolism.
[Footnote 78: We deeply regret that the Oxford Architectural Society
should ever have allowed itself to put on paper the opinions
expressed by one of its members, that Perpendicular windows are
those best suited to the spirit of Christian architecture.]
But if this were the state of the Anglican Church, the Gallican,
though not better off, was acted on in a very different manner. The
State gradually interfered with it, embraced it with its dangerous
friendship, made its observances meaningless, while sustaining their
splendour; secularised its abbeys, by appropriating them to political
ends; made statesmen of its bishops, gave it outside show, while
eating out its heart. Does not Flamboyant express this? A vast
collection of elegant forms, meaninglessly strung together: richness
of ornament, actually weakening construction: vagaries of tracery, as
if the hand possessed of church art were suddenly deprived of church
feelings: nothing plain, simple, intelligible, holy: parts neglected,
parts ostentatious: the west front of Abbeville to a choir that would
disgrace a hamlet.
{cxxvi}
In Spain, again, where Christianity unfolded itself later, so also was
church art later in its development. San Miguel, at Seville, which was
actually built in 1305, would, in England, be set down to the date of
about 1180.
In Italy, where there was no State to interfere with the Church,
Paganism, which had always been more or less at work, sprang up at
once, at the time of the Great Schism, and has ever since prevailed.
But to return to England. Perpendicular, unable to express any idea by
its ornaments, soon began to imitate those of earlier styles: first
Early English, in the wretched banded capitals of the western
counties, and then Decorated in its windows. While, however, the
Church was yet united with the rest of Christendom, Paganism
interfered but in a very slight degree: the Italian example of Henry
the Seventh's tomb was not followed. Even after the Dissolution, there
were some good churches built: the symbolism which lingered longest
was that of the chancel and nave. Nor was this destroyed summarily:
the importance of the chancel had been gradually, all through the
Perpendicular era, weakened by chancel aisles, and the omission of the
chancel arch: it was but to omit the rood screen and parclose, and (as
at Hawkshead, Lancashire, circ. 1564) the mystical division vanished.
The symbolisms which Protestantism introduced were few and easily
understood.
The removal, and material, of the altar, the change of vestments, the
gradual introduction of close pews, the innovation of a reading pew,
were all figurative enough. Something like a return to church art was
made just before the great Rebellion: chancels became elongated,
{cxxvii} altars resumed their old position, copes reappeared, and the
like. Details began to improve: and (which we could hardly have
expected) intentional symbolism is sometimes to be discovered in them.
So, in Baltonsburgh, Somersetshire, a stone pulpit of the date of
1621, has among other devices, an equilateral triangle, containing,
and surrounded by, a _tre_-foil: and evidently setting forth the Holy
Trinity. After the Rebellion, but still more after the Revolution,
those faint traces of symbolism died away into that _ne plus ultra_ of
wretchedness, the Georgian style.
{cxxviii}