lies the true excellence of the "Wittiest Partition." For it is rather
strange that, often as we speak of a "dead" wall, and that with
considerable disgust, we have not often, since Snout's time, heard of a
living one. But the common epithet of opprobrium is justly bestowed, and
marks a right feeling. A wall has no business to be dead. It ought to
have members in its make, and purposes in its existence, like an
organized creature, and to answer its ends in a living and energetic
way; and it is only when we do not choose to put any strength nor
organization into it, that it offends us by its deadness. Every wall
ought to be a "sweet and lovely wall." I do not care about its having
ears; but, for instruction and exhortation, I would often have it to
"hold up its fingers." What its necessary members and excellences are,
it is our present business to discover.
§ II. A wall has been defined to be an even and united fence of wood,
earth, stone, or metal. Metal fences, however, seldom, if ever, take the
form of walls, but of railings; and, like all other metal constructions,
must be left out of our present investigation; as may be also walls
composed merely of light planks or laths for purposes of partition or
inclosure. Substantial walls, whether of wood or earth (I use the word
earth as including clay, baked or unbaked, and stone), have, in their
perfect form, three distinct members;--the Foundation, Body or Veil, and
Cornice.
§ III. The foundation is to the wall what the paw is to an animal. It
is a long foot, wider than the wall, on which the wall is to stand, and
which keeps it from settling into the ground. It is most necessary that
this great element of security should be visible to the eye, and
therefore made a part of the structure above ground. Sometimes, indeed,
it becomes incorporated with the entire foundation of the building, a
vast table on which walls or piers are alike set: but even then, the
eye, taught by the reason, requires some additional preparation or foot
for the wall, and the building is felt to be imperfect without it. This
foundation we shall call the Base of the wall.
§ IV. The body of the wall is of course the principal mass of it, formed
of mud or clay, of bricks or stones, of logs or hewn timber; the
condition of structure being, that it is of equal thickness everywhere,
below and above. It may be half a foot thick, or six feet thick, or
fifty feet thick; but if of equal thickness everywhere, it is still a
wall proper: if to its fifty feet of proper thickness there be added so
much as an inch of thickness in particular parts, that added thickness
is to be considered as some form of buttress or pier, or other
appliance.[33]
In perfect architecture, however, the walls are generally kept of
moderate thickness, and strengthened by piers or buttresses; and the
part of the wall between these, being generally intended only to secure
privacy, or keep out the slighter forces of weather, may be properly
called a Wall Veil. I shall always use this word "Veil" to signify the
even portion of a wall, it being more expressive than the term Body.
§ V. When the materials with which this veil is built are very loose, or
of shapes which do not fit well together, it sometimes becomes
necessary, or at least adds to security, to introduce courses of more
solid material. Thus, bricks alternate with rolled pebbles in the old
walls of Verona, and hewn stones with brick in its Lombard churches. A
banded structure, almost a stratification of the wall, is thus produced;
and the courses of more solid material are sometimes decorated with
carving. Even when the wall is not thus banded through its whole height,
it frequently becomes expedient to lay a course of stone, or at least of
more carefully chosen materials, at regular heights; and such belts or
bands we may call String courses. These are a kind of epochs in the
wall's existence; something like periods of rest and reflection in human
life, before entering on a new career. Or else, in the building, they
correspond to the divisions of its stories within, express its internal
structure, and mark off some portion of the ends of its existence
already attained.
§ VI. Finally, on the top of the wall some protection from the weather
is necessary, or some preparation for the reception of superincumbent
weight, called a coping, or Cornice. I shall use the word Cornice for
both; for, in fact, a coping is a roof to the wall itself, and is
carried by a small cornice as the roof of the building by a large one.
In either case, the cornice, small or large, is the termination of the
wall's existence, the accomplishment of its work. When it is meant to
carry some superincumbent weight, the cornice may be considered as its
hand, opened to carry something above its head; as the base was
considered its foot: and the three parts should grow out of each other
and form one whole, like the root, stalk, and bell of a flower.
These three parts we shall examine in succession; and, first, the Base.
§ VII. It may be sometimes in our power, and it is always expedient, to
prepare for the whole building some settled foundation, level and firm,
out of sight. But this has not been done in some of the noblest
buildings in existence. It cannot always be done perfectly, except at
enormous expense; and, in reasoning upon the superstructure, we shall
never suppose it to be done. The mind of the spectator does not
conceive it; and he estimates the merits of the edifice on the
supposition of its being built upon the ground. Even if there be a vast
table land of foundation elevated for the whole of it, accessible by
steps all round, as at Pisa, the surface of this table is always
conceived as capable of yielding somewhat to superincumbent weight, and
generally is so; and we shall base all our arguments on the widest
possible supposition, that is to say, that the building stands on a
surface either of earth, or, at all events, capable of yielding in some
degree to its weight.
[Illustration: Fig. II.]
§ VIII. Now, let the reader simply ask himself how, on such a surface,
he would set about building a substantial wall, that should be able to
bear weight and to stand for ages. He would assuredly look about for the
largest stones he had at his disposal, and, rudely levelling the ground,
he would lay these well together over a considerably larger width than
he required the wall to be (suppose as at _a_, Fig. II.), in order to
equalise the pressure of the wall over a large surface, and form its
foot. On the top of these he would perhaps lay a second tier of large
stones, _b_, or even the third, _c_, making the breadth somewhat less
each time, so as to prepare for the pressure of the wall on the centre,
and, naturally or necessarily, using somewhat smaller stones above than
below (since we supposed him to look about for the largest first), and
cutting them more neatly. His third tier, if not his second, will
probably appear a sufficiently secure foundation for finer work; for if
the earth yield at all, it will probably yield pretty equally under the
great mass of masonry now knit together over it. So he will prepare for
the wall itself at once by sloping off the next tier of stones to the
right diameter, as at _d_. If there be any joints in this tier within
the wall, he may perhaps, for further security, lay a binding stone
across them, _e_, and then begin the work of the wall veil itself,
whether in bricks or stones.
§ IX. I have supposed the preparation here to be for a large wall,
because such a preparation will give us the best general type. But it is
evident that the essential features of the arrangement are only two,
that is to say, one tier of massy work for foundation, suppose _c_,
missing the first two; and the receding tier or real foot of the wall,
_d_. The reader will find these members, though only of brick, in most
of the considerable and independent walls in the suburbs of London.
§ X. It is evident, however, that the general type, Fig. II., will be
subject to many different modifications in different circumstances.
Sometimes the ledges of the tiers _a_ and _b_ may be of greater width;
and when the building is in a secure place, and of finished masonry,
these may be sloped off also like the main foot _d_. In Venetian
buildings these lower ledges are exposed to the sea, and therefore left
rough hewn; but in fine work and in important positions the lower ledges
may be bevelled and decorated like the upper, or another added above
_d_; and all these parts may be in different proportions, according to
the disposition of the building above them. But we have nothing to do
with any of these variations at present, they being all more or less
dependent upon decorative considerations, except only one of very great
importance, that is to say, the widening of the lower ledge into a stone
seat, which may be often done in buildings of great size with most
beautiful effect: it looks kind and hospitable, and preserves the work
above from violence. In St. Mark's at Venice, which is a small and low
church, and needing no great foundation for the wall veils of it, we
find only the three members, _b_, _c_, and _d_. Of these the first rises
about a foot above the pavement of St. Mark's Place, and forms an
elevated dais in some of the recesses of the porches, chequered red and
white; _c_ forms a seat which follows the line of the walls, while its
basic character is marked by its also carrying certain shafts with
which we have here no concern; _d_ is of white marble; and all are
enriched and decorated in the simplest and most perfect manner possible,
as we shall see in Chap. XXV. And thus much may serve to fix the type of
wall bases, a type oftener followed in real practice than any other we
shall hereafter be enabled to determine: for wall bases of necessity
must be solidly built, and the architect is therefore driven into the
adoption of the right form; or if he deviate from it, it is generally in
meeting some necessity of peculiar circumstances, as in obtaining
cellars and underground room, or in preparing for some grand features or
particular parts of the wall, or in some mistaken idea of
decoration,--into which errors we had better not pursue him until we
understand something more of the rest of the building: let us therefore
proceed to consider the wall veil.
FOOTNOTES:
[33] Many walls are slightly sloped or curved towards their tops,
and have buttresses added to them (that of the Queen's Bench Prison
is a curious instance of the vertical buttress and inclined wall);
but in all such instances the slope of the wall is properly to be
considered a condition of incorporated buttress.
CHAPTER V.
THE WALL VEIL.
§ I. The summer of the year 1849 was spent by the writer in researches
little bearing upon his present subject, and connected chiefly with
proposed illustrations of the mountain forms in the works of J. M. W.
Turner. But there are sometimes more valuable lessons to be learned in
the school of nature than in that of Vitruvius, and a fragment of
building among the Alps is singularly illustrative of the chief feature
which I have at present to develope as necessary to the perfection of
the wall veil.
It is a fragment of some size; a group of broken walls, one of them
overhanging; crowned with a cornice, nodding some hundred and fifty feet
over its massy flank, three thousand above its glacier base, and
fourteen thousand above the sea,--a wall truly of some majesty, at once
the most precipitous and the strongest mass in the whole chain of the
Alps, the Mont Cervin.
§ II. It has been falsely represented as a peak or tower. It is a vast
ridged promontory, connected at its western root with the Dent d'Erin,
and lifting itself like a rearing horse with its face to the east. All
the way along the flank of it, for half a day's journey on the Zmutt
glacier, the grim black terraces of its foundations range almost without
a break; and the clouds, when their day's work is done, and they are
weary, lay themselves down on those foundation steps, and rest till
dawn, each with his leagues of grey mantle stretched along the grisly
ledge, and the cornice of the mighty wall gleaming in the moonlight,
three thousand feet above.
§ III. The eastern face of the promontory is hewn down, as if by the
single sweep of a sword, from the crest of it to the base; hewn concave
and smooth, like the hollow of a wave: on each flank of it there is set
a buttress, both of about equal height, their heads sloped out from the
main wall about seven hundred feet below its summit. That on the north
is the most important; it is as sharp as the frontal angle of a bastion,
and sloped sheer away to the north-east, throwing out spur beyond spur,
until it terminates in a long low curve of russet precipice, at whose
foot a great bay of the glacier of the Col de Cervin lies as level as a
lake. This spur is one of the few points from which the mass of the Mont
Cervin is in anywise approachable. It is a continuation of the masonry
of the mountain itself, and affords us the means of examining the
character of its materials.
§ IV. Few architects would like to build with them. The slope of the
rocks to the north-west is covered two feet deep with their ruins, a
mass of loose and slaty shale, of a dull brick-red color, which yields
beneath the foot like ashes, so that, in running down, you step one
yard, and slide three. The rock is indeed hard beneath, but still
disposed in thin courses of these cloven shales, so finely laid that
they look in places more like a heap of crushed autumn leaves than a
rock; and the first sensation is one of unmitigated surprise, as if the
mountain were upheld by miracle; but surprise becomes more intelligent
reverence for the great builder, when we find, in the middle of the mass
of these dead leaves, a course of living rock, of quartz as white as the
snow that encircles it, and harder than a bed of steel.
§ V. It is one only of a thousand iron bands that knit the strength of
the mighty mountain. Through the buttress and the wall alike, the
courses of its varied masonry are seen in their successive order, smooth
and true as if laid by line and plummet,[34] but of thickness and
strength continually varying, and with silver cornices glittering along
the edge of each, laid by the snowy winds and carved by the
sunshine,--stainless ornaments of the eternal temple, by which "neither
the hammer nor the axe, nor any tool, was heard while it was in
building."
§ VI. I do not, however, bring this forward as an instance of any
universal law of natural building; there are solid as well as coursed
masses of precipice, but it is somewhat curious that the most noble
cliff in Europe, which this eastern front of the Cervin is, I believe,
without dispute, should be to us an example of the utmost possible
stability of precipitousness attained with materials of imperfect and
variable character; and, what is more, there are very few cliffs which
do not display alternations between compact and friable conditions of
their material, marked in their contours by bevelled slopes when the
bricks are soft, and vertical steps when they are harder. And, although
we are not hence to conclude that it is well to introduce courses of bad
materials when we can get perfect material, I believe we may conclude
with great certainty that it is better and easier to strengthen a wall
necessarily of imperfect substance, as of brick, by introducing
carefully laid courses of stone, than by adding to its thickness; and
the first impression we receive from the unbroken aspect of a wall veil,
unless it be of hewn stone throughout, is that it must be both thicker
and weaker than it would have been, had it been properly coursed. The
decorative reasons for adopting the coursed arrangement, which we shall
notice hereafter, are so weighty, that they would alone be almost
sufficient to enforce it; and the constructive ones will apply
universally, except in the rare cases in which the choice of perfect or
imperfect material is entirely open to us, or where the general system
of the decoration of the building requires absolute unity in its
surface.
[Illustration: Fig. III.]
§ VII. As regards the arrangement of the intermediate parts themselves,
it is regulated by certain conditions of bonding and fitting the stones
or bricks, which the reader need hardly be troubled to consider, and
which I wish that bricklayers themselves were always honest enough to
observe. But I hardly know whether to note under the head of æsthetic
or constructive law, this important principle, that masonry is always
bad which appears to have arrested the attention of the architect more
than absolute conditions of strength require. Nothing is more
contemptible in any work than an appearance of the slightest desire on
the part of the builder to _direct attention_ to the way its stones are
put together, or of any trouble taken either to show or to conceal it
more than was rigidly necessary: it may sometimes, on the one hand, be
necessary to conceal it as far as may be, by delicate and close fitting,
when the joints would interfere with lines of sculpture or of mouldings;
and it may often, on the other hand, be delightful to show it, as it is
delightful in places to show the anatomy even of the most delicate human
frame: but _studiously_ to conceal it is the error of vulgar painters,
who are afraid to show that their figures have bones; and studiously to
display it is the error of the base pupils of Michael Angelo, who turned
heroes' limbs into surgeons' diagrams,--but with less excuse than
theirs, for there is less interest in the anatomy displayed. Exhibited
masonry is in most cases the expedient of architects who do not know how
to fill up blank spaces, and many a building, which would have been
decent enough if let alone, has been scrawled over with straight lines,
as in Fig. III., on exactly the same principles, and with just the same
amount of intelligence as a boy's in scrawling his copy-book when he
cannot write. The device was thought ingenious at one period of
architectural history; St. Paul's and Whitehall are covered with it, and
it is in this I imagine that some of our modern architects suppose the
great merit of those buildings to consist. There is, however, no excuse
for errors in disposition of masonry, for there is but one law upon the
subject, and that easily complied with, to avoid all affectation and
all unnecessary expense, either in showing or concealing. Every one
knows a building is built of separate stones; nobody will ever object to
seeing that it is so, but nobody wants to count them. The divisions of a
church are much like the divisions of a sermon; they are always right so
long as they are necessary to edification, and always wrong when they
are thrust upon the attention as divisions only. There may be neatness
in carving when there is richness in feasting; but I have heard many a
discourse, and seen many a church wall, in which it was all carving and
no meat.
FOOTNOTES:
[34] On the eastern side: violently contorted on the northern and
western.
CHAPTER VI.
THE WALL CORNICE.
§ I. We have lastly to consider the close of the wall's existence, or
its cornice. It was above stated, that a cornice has one of two offices:
if the wall have nothing to carry, the cornice is its roof, and defends
it from the weather; if there is weight to be carried above the wall,
the cornice is its hand, and is expanded to carry the said weight.
There are several ways of roofing or protecting independent walls,
according to the means nearest at hand: sometimes the wall has a true
roof all to itself; sometimes it terminates in a small gabled ridge,
made of bricks set slanting, as constantly in the suburbs of London; or
of hewn stone, in stronger work; or in a single sloping face, inclined
to the outside. We need not trouble ourselves at present about these
small roofings, which are merely the diminutions of large ones; but we
must examine the important and constant member of the wall structure,
which prepares it either for these small roofs or for weights above, and
is its true cornice.
§ II. The reader will, perhaps, as heretofore, be kind enough to think
for himself, how, having carried up his wall veil as high as it may be
needed, he will set about protecting it from weather, or preparing it
for weight. Let him imagine the top of the unfinished wall, as it would
be seen from above with all the joints, perhaps uncemented, or
imperfectly filled up with cement, open to the sky; and small broken
materials filling gaps between large ones, and leaving cavities ready
for the rain to soak into, and loosen and dissolve the cement, and
split, as it froze, the whole to pieces. I am much mistaken if his
first impulse would not be to take a great flat stone and lay it on the
top; or rather a series of such, side by side, projecting well over the
edge of the wall veil. If, also, he proposed to lay a weight (as, for
instance, the end of a beam) on the wall, he would feel at once that the
pressure of this beam on, or rather among, the small stones of the wall
veil, might very possibly dislodge or disarrange some of them; and the
first impulse would be, in this case, also to lay a large flat stone on
the top of all to receive the beam, or any other weight, and distribute
it equally among the small stones below, as at _a_, Fig. IV.
[Illustration: Fig. IV.]
§ III. We must therefore have our flat stone in either case; and let
_b_, Fig. IV., be the section or side of it, as it is set across the
wall. Now, evidently, if by any chance this weight happen to be thrown
more on the edges of this stone than the centre, there will be a chance
of these edges breaking off. Had we not better, therefore, put another
stone, sloped off to the wall, beneath the projecting one, as at _c_.
But now our cornice looks somewhat too heavy for the wall; and as the
upper stone is evidently of needless thickness, we will thin it
somewhat, and we have the form _d_. Now observe: the lower or bevelled
stone here at _d_ corresponds to _d_ in the base (Fig. II., page 59).
That was the foot of the wall; this is its hand. And the top stone here,
which is a constant member of cornices, corresponds to the under stone
_c_, in Fig. II., which is a constant member of bases. The reader has no
idea at present of the enormous importance of these members; but as we
shall have to refer to them perpetually, I must ask him to compare them,
and fix their relations well in his mind: and, for convenience, I shall
call the bevelled or sloping stone, X, and the upright edged stone, Y.
The reader may remember easily which is which; for X is an intersection
of two slopes, and may therefore properly mean either of the two sloping
stones; and Y is a figure with a perpendicular line and two slopes, and
may therefore fitly stand for the upright stone in relation to each of
the sloping ones; and as we shall have to say much more about cornices
than about bases, let X and Y stand for the stones of the cornice, and
Xb and Yb for those of the base, when distinction is needed.
[Illustration: Fig. V.]
§ IV. Now the form at _d_, Fig. IV., is the great root and primal type
of all cornices whatsoever. In order to see what forms may be developed
from it, let us take its profile a little larger--_a_, Fig. V., with X
and Y duly marked. Now this form, being the root of all cornices, may
either have to finish the wall and so keep off rain; or, as so often
stated, to carry weight. If the former, it is evident that, in its
present profile, the rain will run back down the slope of X; and if the
latter, that the sharp angle or edge of X, at _k_, may be a little too
weak for its work, and run a chance of giving way. To avoid the evil in
the first case, suppose we hollow the slope of X inwards, as at _b_; and
to avoid it in the second case, suppose we strengthen X by letting it
bulge outwards, as at c.
§ V. These (_b_ and _c_) are the profiles of two vast families of
cornices, springing from the same root, which, with a third arising
from their combination (owing its origin to æsthetic considerations, and
inclining sometimes to the one, sometimes to the other), have been
employed, each on its third part of the architecture of the whole world
throughout all ages, and must continue to be so employed through such
time as is yet to come. We do not at present speak of the third or
combined group; but the relation of the two main branches to each other,
and to the line of origin, is given at _e_, Fig. V.; where the dotted
lines are the representatives of the two families, and the straight line
of the root. The slope of this right line, as well as the nature of the
curves, here drawn as segments of circles, we leave undetermined: the
slope, as well as the proportion of the depths of X and Y to each other,
vary according to the weight to be carried, the strength of the stone,
the size of the cornice, and a thousand other accidents; and the nature
of the curves according to æsthetic laws. It is in these infinite fields
that the invention of the architect is permitted to expatiate, but not
in the alteration of primitive forms.
§ VI. But to proceed. It will doubtless appear to the reader, that, even
allowing for some of these permissible variations in the curve or slope
of X, neither the form at _b_, nor any approximation to that form, would
be sufficiently undercut to keep the rain from running back upon it.
This is true; but we have to consider that the cornice, as the close of
the wall's life, is of all its features that which is best fitted for
honor and ornament. It has been esteemed so by almost all builders, and
has been lavishly decorated in modes hereafter to be considered. But it
is evident that, as it is high above the eye, the fittest place to
receive the decoration is the slope of X, which is inclined towards the
spectator; and if we cut away or hollow out this slope more than we have
done at _b_, all decoration will be hid in the shadow. If, therefore,
the climate be fine, and rain of long continuance not to be dreaded, we
shall not hollow the stone X further, adopting the curve at _b_ merely
as the most protective in our power. But if the climate be one in which
rain is frequent and dangerous, as in alternations with frost, we may be
compelled to consider the cornice in a character distinctly protective,
and to hollow out X farther, so as to enable it thoroughly to accomplish
its purpose. A cornice thus treated loses its character as the crown or
honor of the wall, takes the office of its protector, and is called a
DRIPSTONE. The dripstone is naturally the attribute of Northern
buildings, and therefore especially of Gothic architecture; the true
cornice is the attribute of Southern buildings, and therefore of Greek
and Italian architecture; and it is one of their peculiar beauties, and
eminent features of superiority.
§ VII. Before passing to the dripstone, however, let us examine a little
farther into the nature of the true cornice. We cannot, indeed, render
either of the forms _b_ or _c_, Fig. V., perfectly protective from rain,
but we can help them a little in their duty by a slight advance of their
upper ledge. This, with the form _b_, we can best manage by cutting off
the sharp upper point of its curve, which is evidently weak and useless;
and we shall have the form _f_. By a slight advance of the upper stone
_c_, we shall have the parallel form _g_.
These two cornices, _f_ and _g_, are characteristic of early Byzantine
work, and are found on all the most lovely examples of it in Venice. The
type _a_ is rarer, but occurs pure in the most exquisite piece of
composition in Venice--the northern portico of St. Mark's; and will be
given in due time.
§ VIII. Now the reader has doubtless noticed that these forms of cornice
result, from considerations of fitness and necessity, far more neatly
and decisively than the forms of the base, which we left only very
generally determined. The reason is, that there are many ways of
building foundations, and many _good_ ways, dependent upon the peculiar
accidents of the ground and nature of accessible materials. There is
also room to spare in width, and a chance of a part of the arrangement
being concealed by the ground, so as to modify height. But we have no
room to spare in width on the top of a wall, and all that we do must be
thoroughly visible; and we can but have to deal with bricks, or stones
of a certain degree of fineness, and not with mere gravel, or sand, or
clay,--so that as the conditions are limited, the forms become
determined; and our steps will be more clear and certain the farther we
advance. The sources of a river are usually half lost among moss and
pebbles, and its first movements doubtful in direction; but, as the
current gathers force, its banks are determined, and its branches are
numbered.
§ IX. So far of the true cornice: we have still to determine the form of
the dripstone.
[Illustration: Fig. VI.]
We go back to our primal type or root of cornice, _a_ of Fig. V. We take
this at _a_ in Fig. VI., and we are to consider it entirely as a
protection against rain. Now the only way in which the rain can be kept
from running back on the slope of X is by a bold hollowing out of it
upwards, _b_. But clearly, by thus doing, we shall so weaken the
projecting part of it that the least shock would break it at the neck,
_c_; we must therefore cut the whole out of one stone, which will give
us the form _d_. That the water may not lodge on the upper ledge of
this, we had better round it off; and it will better protect the joint
at the bottom of the slope if we let the stone project over it in a
roll, cutting the recess deeper above. These two changes are made in
_e_: _e_ is the type of dripstones; the projecting part being, however,
more or less rounded into an approximation to the shape of a falcon's
beak, and often reaching it completely. But the essential part of the
arrangement is the up and under cutting of the curve. Wherever we find
this, we are sure that the climate is wet, or that the builders have
been _bred_ in a wet country, and that the rest of the building will be
prepared for rough weather. The up cutting of the curve is sometimes all
the distinction between the mouldings of far-distant countries and
utterly strange nations.
[Illustration: Fig. VII.]
Fig. VII. representing a moulding with an outer and inner curve, the
latter undercut. Take the outer line, and this moulding is one constant
in Venice, in architecture traceable to Arabian types, and chiefly to
the early mosques of Cairo. But take the inner line; it is a dripstone
at Salisbury. In that narrow interval between the curves there is, when
we read it rightly, an expression of another and mightier curve,--the
orbed sweep of the earth and sea, between the desert of the Pyramids,
and the green and level fields through which the clear streams of Sarum
wind so slowly.
[Illustration: Fig. VIII.]
And so delicate is the test, that though pure cornices are often found
in the north,--borrowed from classical models,--so surely as we find a
true dripstone moulding in the South, the influence of Northern builders
has been at work; and this will be one of the principal evidences which
I shall use in detecting Lombard influence on Arab work; for the true
Byzantine and Arab mouldings are all open to the sky and light, but the
Lombards brought with them from the North the fear of rain, and in all
the Lombardic Gothic we instantly recognize the shadowy dripstone: _a_,
Fig. VIII., is from a noble fragment at Milan, in the Piazza dei
Mercanti; _b_, from the Broletto of Como. Compare them with _c_ and
_d_; both from Salisbury; _e_ and _f_ from Lisieux, Normandy; _g_ and
_h_ from Wenlock Abbey, Shropshire.
§ X. The reader is now master of all that he need know about the
construction of the general wall cornice, fitted either to become a
crown of the wall, or to carry weight above. If, however, the weight
above become considerable, it may be necessary to support the cornice at
intervals with brackets; especially if it be required to project far, as
well as to carry weight; as, for instance, if there be a gallery on top
of the wall. This kind of bracket-cornice, deep or shallow, forms a
separate family, essentially connected with roofs and galleries; for if
there be no superincumbent weight, it is evidently absurd to put
brackets to a plain cornice or dripstone (though this is sometimes done
in carrying out a style); so that, as soon as we see a bracket put to a
cornice, it implies, or should imply, that there is a roof or gallery
above it. Hence this family of cornices I shall consider in connection
with roofing, calling them "roof cornices," while what we have hitherto
examined are proper "wall cornices." The roof cornice and wall cornice
are therefore treated in division D.
We are not, however, as yet nearly ready for our roof. We have only
obtained that which was to be the object of our first division (A); we
have got, that is to say, a general idea of a wall and of the three
essential parts of a wall; and we have next, it will be remembered, to
get an idea of a pier and the essential parts of a pier, which were to
be the subjects of our second division (B).
CHAPTER VII.
THE PIER BASE.
§ I. In § III. of Chap. III., it was stated that when a wall had to
sustain an addition of vertical pressure, it was first fitted to sustain
it by some addition to its own thickness; but if the pressure became
very great, by being gathered up into PIERS.
I must first make the reader understand what I mean by a wall's being
gathered up. Take a piece of tolerably thick drawing-paper, or thin
Bristol board, five or six inches square. Set it on its edge on the
table, and put a small octavo book on the edge or top of it, and it will
bend instantly. Tear it into four strips all across, and roll up each
strip tightly. Set these rolls on end on the table, and they will carry
the small octavo perfectly well. Now the thickness or substance of the
paper employed to carry the weight is exactly the same as it was before,
only it is differently arranged, that is to say, "gathered up."[35] If
therefore a wall be gathered up like the Bristol board, it will bear
greater weight than it would if it remained a wall veil. The sticks into
which you gather it are called _Piers_. A pier is a coagulated wall.
§ II. Now you cannot quite treat the wall as you did the Bristol board,
and twist it up at once; but let us see how you _can_ treat it. Let A,
Fig. IX., be the plan of a wall which you have made inconveniently and
expensively thick, and which still appears to be slightly too weak for
what it must carry: divide it, as at B, into equal spaces, _a_, _b_,
_a_, _b_, &c. Cut out a thin slice of it at every _a_ on each side, and
put the slices you cut out on at every _b_ on each side, and you will
have the plan at B, with exactly the same quantity of bricks. But your
wall is now so much concentrated, that, if it was only slightly too weak
before, it will be stronger now than it need be; so you may spare some
of your space as well as your bricks by cutting off the corners of the
thicker parts, as suppose _c_, _c_, _c_, _c_, at C: and you have now a
series of square piers connected by a wall veil, which, on less space
and with less materials, will do the work of the wall at A perfectly
well.
[Illustration: Fig. IX.]
§ III. I do not say _how much_ may be cut away in the corners _c_,
_c_,--that is a mathematical question with which we need not trouble
ourselves: all that we need know is, that out of every slice we take
from the "_b_'s" and put on at the "_a_'s," we may keep a certain
percentage of room and bricks, until, supposing that we do not want the
wall veil for its own sake, this latter is thinned entirely away, like
the girdle of the Lady of Avenel, and finally breaks, and we have
nothing but a row of square piers, D.
§ IV. But have we yet arrived at the form which will spare most room,
and use fewest materials. No; and to get farther we must apply the
general principle to our wall, which is equally true in morals and
mathematics, that the strength of materials, or of men, or of minds, is
always most available when it is applied as closely as possible to a
single point.
Let the point to which we wish the strength of our square piers to be
applied, be chosen. Then we shall of course put them directly under it,
and the point will be in their centre. But now some of their materials
are not so near or close to this point as others. Those at the corners
are farther off than the rest.
Now, if every particle of the pier be brought as near as possible to the
centre of it, the form it assumes is the circle.
The circle must be, therefore, the best possible form of plan for a
pier, from the beginning of time to the end of it. A circular pier is
called a pillar or column, and all good architecture adapted to vertical
support is made up of pillars, has always been so, and must ever be so,
as long as the laws of the universe hold.
The final condition is represented at E, in its relation to that at D.
It will be observed that though each circle projects a little beyond the
side of the square out of which it is formed, the space cut off at the
angles is greater than that added at the sides; for, having our
materials in a more concentrated arrangement, we can afford to part with
some of them in this last transformation, as in all the rest.
§ V. And now, what have the base and the cornice of the wall been doing
while we have been cutting the veil to pieces and gathering it together?
The base is also cut to pieces, gathered together, and becomes the base
of the column.
The cornice is cut to pieces, gathered together, and becomes the capital
of the column. Do not be alarmed at the new word, it does not mean a new
thing; a capital is only the cornice of a column, and you may, if you
like, call a cornice the capital of a wall.
We have now, therefore, to examine these three concentrated forms of the
base, veil, and cornice: first, the concentrated base, still called the
BASE of the column; then the concentrated veil, called the SHAFT of the
column; then the concentrated cornice, called the CAPITAL of the column.
And first the Base:--
[Illustration: Fig. X.]
§ VI. Look back to the main type, Fig. II., page 55, and apply its
profiles in due proportion to the feet of the pillars at E in Fig. IX.
p. 72: If each step in Fig. II. were gathered accurately, the projection
of the entire circular base would be less in proportion to its height
than it is in Fig. II.; but the approximation to the result in Fig. X.
is quite accurate enough for our purposes. (I pray the reader to observe
that I have not made the smallest change, except this necessary
expression of a reduction in diameter, in Fig. II. as it is applied in
Fig. X., only I have not drawn the joints of the stones because these
would confuse the outlines of the bases; and I have not represented the
rounding of the shafts, because it does not bear at present on the
argument.) Now it would hardly be convenient, if we had to pass between
the pillars, to have to squeeze ourselves through one of those angular
gaps or brêches de Roland in Fig. X. Our first impulse would be to cut
them open; but we cannot do this, or our piers are unsafe. We have but
one other resource, to fill them up until we have a floor wide enough to
let us pass easily: this we may perhaps obtain at the first ledge, we
are nearly sure to get it at the second, and we may then obtain access
to the raised interval, either by raising the earth over the lower
courses of foundation, or by steps round the entire building.
Fig. XI. is the arrangement of Fig. X. so treated.
[Illustration: Fig. XI.]
§ VII. But suppose the pillars are so vast that the lowest chink in Fig.
X. would be quite wide enough to let us pass through it. Is there then
any reason for filling it up? Yes. It will be remembered that in Chap.
IV. § VIII. the chief reason for the wide foundation of the wall was
stated to be "that it might equalise its pressure over a large surface;"
but when the foundation is cut to pieces as in Fig. X., the pressure is
thrown on a succession of narrowed and detached spaces of that surface.
If the ground is in some places more disposed to yield than in others,
the piers in those places will sink more than the rest, and this
distortion of the system will be probably of more importance in pillars
than in a wall, because the adjustment of the weight above is more
delicate; we thus actually want the _weight_ of the stones between the
pillars, in order that the whole foundation may be bonded into one, and
sink together if it sink at all: and the more massy the pillars, the
more we shall need to fill the intervals of their foundations. In the
best form of Greek architecture, the intervals are filled up to the root
of the shaft, and the columns have no independent base; they stand on
the even floor of their foundation.
§ VIII. Such a structure is not only admissible, but, when the column is
of great thickness in proportion to its height, and the sufficient
firmness, either of the ground or prepared floor, is evident, it is the
best of all, having a strange dignity in its excessive simplicity. It
is, or ought to be, connected in our minds with the deep meaning of
primeval memorial. "And Jacob took the stone that he had put for his
pillow, and set it up for a pillar." I do not fancy that he put a base
for it first. If you try to put a base to the rock-piers of Stonehenge,
you will hardly find them improved; and two of the most perfect
buildings in the world, the Parthenon and Ducal palace of Venice, have
no bases to their pillars: the latter has them, indeed, to its upper
arcade shafts; and had once, it is said, a continuous raised base for
its lower ones: but successive elevations of St. Mark's Place have
covered this base, and parts of the shafts themselves, with an
inundation of paving stones; and yet the building is, I doubt not, as
grand as ever. Finally, the two most noble pillars in Venice, those
brought from Acre, stand on the smooth marble surface of the Piazzetta,
with no independent bases whatever. They are rather broken away beneath,
so that you may look under parts of them, and stand (not quite erect,
but leaning somewhat) safe by their own massy weight. Nor could any
bases possibly be devised that would not spoil them.
§ IX. But it is otherwise if the pillar be so slender as to look
doubtfully balanced. It would indeed stand quite as safely without an
independent base as it would with one (at least, unless the base be in
the form of a socket). But it will not appear so safe to the eye. And
here for the first time, I have to express and apply a principle, which
I believe the reader will at once grant,--that features necessary to
express security to the imagination, are often as essential parts of
good architecture as those required for security itself. It was said
that the wall base was the foot or paw of the wall. Exactly in the same
way, and with clearer analogy, the pier base is the foot or paw of the
pier. Let us, then, take a hint from nature. A foot has two offices, to
bear up, and to hold firm. As far as it has to bear up, it is uncloven,
with slight projection,--look at an elephant's (the Doric base of
animality);[36] but as far as it has to hold firm, it is divided and
clawed, with wide projections,--look at an eagle's.
§ X. Now observe. In proportion to the massiness of the column, we
require its foot to express merely the power of bearing up; in fact, it
can do without a foot, like the Squire in Chevy Chase, if the ground
only be hard enough. But if the column be slender, and look as if it
might lose its balance, we require it to look as if it had hold of the
ground, or the ground hold of it, it does not matter which,--some
expression of claw, prop, or socket. Now let us go back to Fig. XI., and
take up one of the bases there, in the state in which we left it. We may
leave out the two lower steps (with which we have nothing more to do, as
they have become the united floor or foundation of the whole), and, for
the sake of greater clearness, I shall not draw the bricks in the shaft,
nor the flat stone which carries them, though the reader is to suppose
them remaining as drawn in Fig. XI.; but I shall only draw the shaft and
its two essential members of base, Xb and Yb, as explained at p. 65,
above: and now, expressing the rounding of these numbers on _a_ somewhat
larger scale, we have the profile _a_, Fig. XII.; _b_, the perspective
appearance of such a base seen from above; and _c_, the plan of it.
§ XI. Now I am quite sure the reader is not satisfied of the stability
of this form as it is seen at _b_; nor would he ever be so with the main
contour of a circular base. Observe, we have taken some trouble to
reduce the member Yb into this round form, and all that we have gained
by so doing, is this unsatisfactory and unstable look of the base; of
which the chief reason is, that a circle, unless enclosed by right
lines, has never an appearance of fixture, or definite place,[37]--we
suspect it of motion, like an orb of heaven; and the second is, that the
whole base, considered as the foot of the shaft, has no grasp nor hold:
it is a club-foot, and looks too blunt for the limb,--it wants at least
expansion, if not division.
[Illustration: Fig. XII.]
§ XII. Suppose, then, instead of taking so much trouble with the member
Yb, we save time and labor, and leave it a square block. Xb must,
however, evidently follow the pillar, as its condition is that it slope
to the very base of the wall veil, and of whatever the wall veil
becomes. So the corners of Yb will project beyond the circle of Xb, and
we shall have (Fig. XII.) the profile _d_, the perspective appearance
_e_, and the plan _f_. I am quite sure the reader likes _e_ much better
than he did _b_. The circle is now placed, and we are not afraid of its
rolling away. The foot has greater expansion, and we have saved labor
besides, with little loss of space, for the interval between the bases
is just as great as it was before,--we have only filled up the corners
of the squares.
But is it not possible to mend the form still further? There is surely
still an appearance of separation between Xb and Yb, as if the one might
slip off the other. The foot is expanded enough; but it needs some
expression of grasp as well. It has no toes. Suppose we were to put a
spur or prop to Xb at each corner, so as to hold it fast in the centre
of Yb. We will do this in the simplest possible form. We will have the
spur, or small buttress, sloping straight from the corner of Yb up to
the top of Xb, and as seen from above, of the shape of a triangle.
Applying such spurs in Fig. XII., we have the diagonal profile at _g_,
the perspective _h_, and the plan _i_.
§ XIII. I am quite sure the reader likes this last base the best, and
feels as if it were the firmest. But he must carefully distinguish
between this feeling or imagination of the eye, and the real stability
of the structure. That this real stability has been slightly increased
by the changes between _b_ and _h_, in Fig. XII., is true. There is in
the base _h_ somewhat less chance of accidental dislocation, and
somewhat greater solidity and weight. But this very slight gain of
security is of no importance whatever when compared with the general
requirements of the structure. The pillar must be _perfectly_ secure,
and more than secure, with the base _b_, or the building will be unsafe,
whatever other base you put to the pillar. The changes are made, not for
the sake of the almost inappreciable increase of security they involve,
but in order to convince the eye of the real security which the base _b_
_appears_ to compromise. This is especially the case with regard to the
props or spurs, which are absolutely useless in reality, but are of the
highest importance as an expression of safety. And this will farther
appear when we observe that they have been above quite arbitrarily
supposed to be of a triangular form. Why triangular? Why should not the
spur be made wider and stronger, so as to occupy the whole width of the
angle of the square, and to become a complete expansion of Xb to the
edge of the square? Simply because, whatever its width, it has, in
reality, no supporting power whatever; and the _expression_ of support
is greatest where it assumes a form approximating to that of the spur or
claw of an animal. We shall, however, find hereafter, that it ought
indeed to be much wider than it is in Fig. XII., where it is narrowed in
order to make its structure clearly intelligible.
§ XIV. If the reader chooses to consider this spur as an æsthetic
feature altogether, he is at liberty to do so, and to transfer what we
have here said of it to the beginning of Chap. XXV. I think that its
true place is here, as an _expression_ of safety, and not a means of
beauty; but I will assume only, as established, the form _e_ of Fig.
XII., which is absolutely, as a construction, easier, stronger, and more
perfect than _b_. A word or two now of its materials. The wall base, it
will be remembered, was built of stones more neatly cut as they were
higher in place; and the members, Y and X, of the pier base, were the
highest members of the wall base gathered. But, exactly in proportion to
this gathering or concentration in form, should, if possible, be the
gathering or concentration of substance. For as the whole weight of the
building is now to rest upon few and limited spaces, it is of the
greater importance that it should be there received by solid masonry. Xb
and Yb are therefore, if possible, to be each of a single stone; or,
when the shaft is small, both cut out of one block, and especially if
spurs are to be added to Xb. The reader must not be angry with me for
stating things so self-evident, for these are all necessary steps in the
chain of argument which I must not break. Even this change from detached
stones to a single block is not without significance; for it is part of
the real service and value of the member Yb to provide for the reception
of the shaft a surface free from joints; and the eye always conceives it
as a firm covering over all inequalities or fissures in the smaller
masonry of the floor.
§ XV. I have said nothing yet of the proportion of the height of Yb to
its width, nor of that of Yb and Xb to each other. Both depend much on
the height of shaft, and are besides variable within certain limits, at
the architect's discretion. But the limits of the height of Yb may be
thus generally stated. If it looks so thin as that the weight of the
column above might break it, it is too low; and if it is higher than its
own width, it is too high. The utmost admissible height is that of a
cubic block; for if it ever become higher than it is wide, it becomes
itself a part of a pier, and not the base of one.
§ XVI. I have also supposed Yb, when expanded from beneath Xb, as always
expanded into a square, and four spurs only to be added at the angles.
But Yb may be expanded into a pentagon, hexagon, or polygon; and Xb then
may have five, six, or many spurs. In proportion, however, as the sides
increase in number, the spurs become shorter and less energetic in their
effect, and the square is in most cases the best form.
§ XVII. We have hitherto conducted the argument entirely on the
supposition of the pillars being numerous, and in a range. Suppose,
however, that we require only a single pillar: as we have free space
round it, there is no need to fill up the first ranges of its
foundations; nor need we do so in order to equalise pressure, since the
pressure to be met is its own alone. Under such circumstances, it is
well to exhibit the lower tiers of the foundation as well as Yb and Xb.
The noble bases of the two granite pillars of the Piazzetta at Venice
are formed by the entire series of members given in Fig. X., the lower
courses expanding into steps, with a superb breadth of proportion to the
shaft. The member Xb is of course circular, having its proper decorative
mouldings, not here considered; Yb is octagonal, but filled up into a
square by certain curious groups of figures representing the trades of
Venice. The three courses below are octagonal, with their sides set
across the angles of the innermost octagon, Yb. The shafts are 15 feet
in circumference, and the lowest octagons of the base 56 (7 feet each
side).
§ XVIII. Detached buildings, like our own Monument, are not pillars, but
towers built in imitation of Pillars. As towers they are barbarous,
being dark, inconvenient, and unsafe, besides lying, and pretending to
be what they are not. As shafts they are barbarous, because they were
designed at a time when the Renaissance architects had introduced and
forced into acceptance, as _de rigueur_, a kind of columnar high-heeled
shoe,--a thing which they called a pedestal, and which is to a true base
exactly what a Greek actor's cothurnus was to a Greek gentleman's
sandal. But the Greek actor knew better, I believe, than to exhibit or
to decorate his cork sole; and, with shafts as with heroes, it is rather
better to put the sandal off than the cothurnus on. There are, indeed,
occasions on which a pedestal may be necessary; it may be better to
raise a shaft from a sudden depression of plinth to a level with others,
its companions, by means of a pedestal, than to introduce a higher
shaft; or it may be better to place a shaft of alabaster, if otherwise
too short for our purpose, on a pedestal, than to use a larger shaft of
coarser material; but the pedestal is in each case a make-shift, not an
additional perfection. It may, in the like manner, be sometimes
convenient for men to walk on stilts, but not to keep their stilts on as
ornamental parts of dress. The bases of the Nelson Column, the Monument,
and the column of the Place Vendôme, are to the shafts, exactly what
highly ornamented wooden legs would be to human beings.
§ XIX. So far of bases of detached shafts. As we do not yet know in what
manner shafts are likely to be grouped, we can say nothing of those of
grouped shafts until we know more of what they are to support.
Lastly; we have throughout our reasoning upon the base supposed the pier
to be circular. But circumstances may occur to prevent its being
reduced to this form, and it may remain square or rectangular; its base
will then be simply the wall base following its contour, and we have no
spurs at the angles. Thus much may serve respecting pier bases; we have
next to examine the concentration of the Wall Veil, or the Shaft.
FOOTNOTES:
[35] The experiment is not quite fair in this rude fashion; for the
small rolls owe their increase of strength much more to their
tubular form than their aggregation of material; but if the paper be
cut up into small strips, and tied together firmly in three or four
compact bundles, it will exhibit increase of strength enough to show
the principle. Vide, however, Appendix 16, "Strength of Shafts."
[36] Appendix 17, "Answer to Mr. Garbett."
[37] Yet more so than any other figure enclosed by a curved line:
for the circle, in its relations to its own centre, is the curve of
greatest stability. Compare § XX. of Chap. XX.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SHAFT.
§ I. We have seen in the last Chapter how, in converting the wall into
the square or cylindrical shaft, we parted at every change of form with
some quantity of material. In proportion to the quantity thus
surrendered, is the necessity that what we retain should be good of its
kind, and well set together, since everything now depends on it.
It is clear also that the best material, and the closest concentration,
is that of the natural crystalline rocks; and that, by having reduced
our wall into the shape of shafts, we may be enabled to avail ourselves
of this better material, and to exchange cemented bricks for
crystallised blocks of stone. Therefore, the general idea of a perfect
shaft is that of a single stone hewn into a form more or less elongated
and cylindrical. Under this form, or at least under the ruder one of a
long stone set upright, the conception of true shafts appears first to
have occurred to the human mind; for the reader must note this
carefully, once for all, it does not in the least follow that the order
of architectural features which is most reasonable in their arrangement,
is most probable in their invention. I have theoretically deduced shafts
from walls, but shafts were never so reasoned out in architectural
practice. The man who first propped a thatched roof with poles was the
discoverer of their principle; and he who first hewed a long stone into
a cylinder, the perfecter of their practice.
§ II. It is clearly necessary that shafts of this kind (we will call
them, for convenience, _block_ shafts) should be composed of stone not
liable to flaws or fissures; and therefore that we must no longer
continue our argument as if it were always possible to do what is to be
done in the best way; for the style of a national architecture may
evidently depend, in great measure, upon the nature of the rocks of the
country.
Our own English rocks, which supply excellent building stone from their
thin and easily divisible beds, are for the most part entirely incapable
of being worked into shafts of any size, except only the granites and
whinstones, whose hardness renders them intractable for ordinary
purposes;--and English architecture therefore supplies no instances of
the block shaft applied on an extensive scale; while the facility of
obtaining large masses of marble has in Greece and Italy been partly the
cause of the adoption of certain noble types of architectural form
peculiar to those countries, or, when occurring elsewhere, derived from
them.
We have not, however, in reducing our walls to shafts, calculated on the
probabilities of our obtaining better materials than those of which the
walls were built; and we shall therefore first consider the form of
shaft which will be best when we have the best materials; and then
consider how far we can imitate, or how far it will be wise to imitate,
this form with any materials we can obtain.
§ III. Now as I gave the reader the ground, and the stones, that he
might for himself find out how to build his wall, I shall give him the
block of marble, and the chisel, that he may himself find out how to
shape his column. Let him suppose the elongated mass, so given him,
rudely hewn to the thickness which he has calculated will be
proportioned to the weight it has to carry. The conditions of stability
will require that some allowance be made in finishing it for any chance
of slight disturbance or subsidence of the ground below, and that, as
everything must depend on the uprightness of the shaft, as little chance
should be left as possible of its being thrown off its balance. It will
therefore be prudent to leave it slightly thicker at the base than at
the top. This excess of diameter at the base being determined, the
reader is to ask himself how most easily and simply to smooth the
column from one extremity to the other. To cut it into a true
straight-sided cone would be a matter of much trouble and nicety, and
would incur the continual risk of chipping into it too deep. Why not
leave some room for a chance stroke, work it slightly, _very_ slightly
convex, and smooth the curve by the eye between the two extremities? you
will save much trouble and time, and the shaft will be all the stronger.
[Illustration: Fig. XIII.]
This is accordingly the natural form of a detached block shaft. It is
the best. No other will ever be so agreeable to the mind or eye. I do
not mean that it is not capable of more refined execution, or of the
application of some of the laws of æsthetic beauty, but that it is the
best recipient of execution and subject of law; better in either case
than if you had taken more pains, and cut it straight.
§ IV. You will observe, however, that the convexity is to be very
slight, and that the shaft is not to _bulge_ in the centre, but to taper
from the root in a curved line; the peculiar character of the curve you
will discern better by exaggerating, in a diagram, the conditions of its
sculpture.
Let _a_, _a_, _b_, _b_, at A, Fig. XIII., be the rough block of the
shaft, laid on the ground; and as thick as you can by any chance require
it to be; you will leave it of this full thickness at its base at A, but
at the other end you will mark off upon it the diameter _c_, _d_, which
you intend it to have at the summit; you will then take your mallet and
chisel, and working from _c_ and _d_ you will roughly knock off the
corners, shaded in the figure, so as to reduce the shaft to the figure
described by the inside lines in A and the outside lines in B; you then
proceed to smooth it, you chisel away the shaded parts in B, and leave
your finished shaft of the form of the _inside_ lines _e_, _g_, _f_,
_h_.
The result of this operation will be of course that the shaft tapers
faster towards the top than it does near the ground. Observe this
carefully; it is a point of great future importance.
§ V. So far of the shape of detached or block shafts. We can carry the
type no farther on merely structural considerations: let us pass to the
shaft of inferior materials.
Unfortunately, in practice, this step must be soon made. It is alike
difficult to obtain, transport, and raise, block shafts more than ten or
twelve feet long, except in remarkable positions, and as pieces of
singular magnificence. Large pillars are therefore always composed of
more than one block of stone. Such pillars are either jointed like
basalt columns, and composed of solid pieces of stone set one above
another; or they are filled up _towers_, built of small stones cemented
into a mass, with more or less of regularity: Keep this distinction
carefully in mind, it is of great importance; for the jointed column,
every stone composing which, however thin, is (so to speak) a complete
_slice_ of the shaft, is just as strong as the block pillar of one
stone, so long as no forces are brought into action upon it which would
have a tendency to cause horizontal dislocation. But the pillar which is
built as a filled-up tower is of course liable to fissure in any
direction, if its cement give way.
But, in either case, it is evident that all constructive reason of the
curved contour is at once destroyed. Far from being an easy or natural
procedure, the fitting of each portion of the curve to its fellow, in
the separate stones, would require painful care and considerable masonic
skill; while, in the case of the filled-up tower, the curve outwards
would be even unsafe; for its greatest strength (and that the more in
proportion to its careless building) lies in its bark, or shell of
outside stone; and this, if curved outwards, would at once burst
outwards, if heavily loaded above.
If, therefore, the curved outline be ever retained in such shafts, it
must be in obedience to æsthetic laws only.
§ VI. But farther. Not only the curvature, but even the tapering by
straight lines, would be somewhat difficult of execution in the pieced
column. Where, indeed, the entire shaft is composed of four or five
blocks set one upon another, the diameters may be easily determined at
the successive joints, and the stones chiselled to the same slope. But
this becomes sufficiently troublesome when the joints are numerous, so
that the pillar is like a pile of cheeses; or when it is to be built of
small and irregular stones. We should be naturally led, in the one case,
to cut all the cheeses to the same diameter; in the other to build by
the plumb-line; and in both to give up the tapering altogether.
§ VII. Farther. Since the chance, in the one case, of horizontal
dislocation, in the other, of irregular fissure, is much increased by
the composition of the shaft out of joints or small stones, a larger
bulk of shaft is required to carry the given weight; and, _cæteris
paribus_, jointed and cemented shafts must be thicker in proportion to
the weight they carry than those which are of one block.
We have here evidently natural causes of a very marked division in
schools of architecture: one group composed of buildings whose shafts
are either of a single stone or of few joints; the shafts, therefore,
being gracefully tapered, and reduced by successive experiments to the
narrowest possible diameter proportioned to the weight they carry: and
the other group embracing those buildings whose shafts are of many
joints or of small stones; shafts which are therefore not tapered, and
rather thick and ponderous in proportion to the weight they carry; the
latter school being evidently somewhat imperfect and inelegant as
compared with the former.
It may perhaps appear, also, that this arrangement of the materials in
cylindrical shafts at all would hardly have suggested itself to a people
who possessed no large blocks out of which to hew them; and that the
shaft built of many pieces is probably derived from, and imitative of
the shaft hewn from few or from one.
§ VIII. If, therefore, you take a good geological map of Europe, and lay
your finger upon the spots where volcanic influences supply either
travertin or marble in accessible and available masses, you will
probably mark the points where the types of the first school have been
originated and developed. If, in the next place, you will mark the
districts where broken and rugged basalt or whinstone, or slaty
sandstone, supply materials on easier terms indeed, but fragmentary and
unmanageable, you will probably distinguish some of the birthplaces of
the derivative and less graceful school. You will, in the first case,
lay your finger on Pæstum, Agrigentum, and Athens; in the second, on
Durham and Lindisfarne.
The shafts of the great primal school are, indeed, in their first form,
as massy as those of the other, and the tendency of both is to continual
diminution of their diameters: but in the first school it is a true
diminution in the thickness of the independent pier; in the last, it is
an apparent diminution, obtained by giving it the appearance of a group
of minor piers. The distinction, however, with which we are concerned is
not that of slenderness, but of vertical or curved contour; and we may
note generally that while throughout the whole range of Northern work,
the perpendicular shaft appears in continually clearer development,
throughout every group which has inherited the spirit of the Greek, the
shaft retains its curved or tapered form; and the occurrence of the
vertical detached shaft may at all times, in European architecture, be
regarded as one of the most important collateral evidences of Northern
influence.
§ IX. It is necessary to limit this observation to European
architecture, because the Egyptian shaft is often untapered, like the
Northern. It appears that the Central Southern, or Greek shaft, was
tapered or curved on æsthetic rather than constructive principles; and
the Egyptian which precedes, and the Northern which follows it, are both
vertical, the one because the best form had not been discovered, the
other because it could not be attained. Both are in a certain degree
barbaric; and both possess in combination and in their ornaments a power
altogether different from that of the Greek shaft, and at least as
impressive if not as admirable.
§ X. We have hitherto spoken of shafts as if their number were fixed,
and only their diameter variable according to the weight to be borne.
But this supposition is evidently gratuitous; for the same weight may be
carried either by many and slender, or by few and massy shafts. If the
reader will look back to Fig. IX., he will find the number of shafts
into which the wall was reduced to be dependent altogether upon the
length of the spaces _a_, _b_, _a_, _b_, &c., a length which was
arbitrarily fixed. We are at liberty to make these spaces of what length
we choose, and, in so doing, to increase the number and diminish the
diameter of the shafts, or _vice versâ_.
§ XI. Supposing the materials are in each case to be of the same kind,
the choice is in great part at the architect's discretion, only there is
a limit on the one hand to the multiplication of the slender shaft, in
the inconvenience of the narrowed interval, and on the other, to the
enlargement of the massy shaft, in the loss of breadth to the
building.[38] That will be commonly the best proportion which is a
natural mean between the two limits; leaning to the side of grace or of
grandeur according to the expressional intention of the work. I say,
_commonly_ the best, because, in some cases, this expressional invention
may prevail over all other considerations, and a column of unnecessary
bulk or fantastic slightness be adopted in order to strike the spectator
with awe or with surprise.[39] The architect is, however, rarely in
practice compelled to use one kind of material only; and his choice
lies frequently between the employment of a larger number of solid and
perfect small shafts, or a less number of pieced and cemented large
ones. It is often possible to obtain from quarries near at hand, blocks
which might be cut into shafts eight or twelve feet long and four or
five feet round, when larger shafts can only be obtained in distant
localities; and the question then is between the perfection of smaller
features and the imperfection of larger. We shall find numberless
instances in Italy in which the first choice has been boldly, and I
think most wisely made; and magnificent buildings have been composed of
systems of small but perfect shafts, multiplied and superimposed. So
long as the idea of the symmetry of a perfect shaft remained in the
builder's mind, his choice could hardly be directed otherwise, and the
adoption of the built and tower-like shaft appears to have been the
result of a loss of this sense of symmetry consequent on the employment
of intractable materials.
§ XII. But farther: we have up to this point spoken of shafts as always
set in ranges, and at equal intervals from each other. But there is no
necessity for this; and material differences may be made in their
diameters if two or more be grouped so as to do together the work of one
large one, and that within, or nearly within, the space which the larger
one would have occupied.
§ XIII. Let A, B, C, Fig. XIV., be three surfaces, of which B and C
contain equal areas, and each of them double that of A: then supposing
them all loaded to the same height, B or C would receive twice as much
weight as A; therefore, to carry B or C loaded, we should need a shaft
of twice the strength needed to carry A. Let S be the shaft required to
carry A, and S_2 the shaft required to carry B or C; then S_3 may be
divided into two shafts, or S_2 into four shafts, as at S_3, all
equal in area or solid contents;[40] and the mass A might be carried
safely by two of them, and the masses B and C, each by four of them.
[Illustration: Fig. XIV.]
Now if we put the single shafts each under the centre of the mass they
have to bear, as represented by the shaded circles at _a_, _a2_, _a3_,
the masses A and C are both of them very ill supported, and even B
insufficiently; but apply the four and the two shafts as at _b_, _b2_,
_b3_, and they are supported satisfactorily. Let the weight on each of
the masses be doubled, and the shafts doubled in area, then we shall
have such arrangements as those at _c_, _c2_, _c3_; and if again the
shafts and weight be doubled, we shall have _d_, _d2_, _d3_.
§ XIV. Now it will at once be observed that the arrangement of the
shafts in the series of B and C is always exactly the same in their
relations to each other; only the group of B is set evenly, and the
group of C is set obliquely,--the one carrying a square, the other a
cross.
[Illustration: Fig. XV.]
You have in these two series the primal representations of shaft
arrangement in the Southern and Northern schools; while the group _b_,
of which _b2_ is the double, set evenly, and _c2_ the double, set
obliquely, is common to both. The reader will be surprised to find how
all the complex and varied forms of shaft arrangement will range
themselves into one or other of these groups; and still more surprised
to find the oblique or cross set system on the one hand, and the square
set system on the other, severally distinctive of Southern and Northern
work. The dome of St. Mark's, and the crossing of the nave and transepts
of Beauvais, are both carried by square piers; but the piers of St.
Mark's are set square to the walls of the church, and those of Beauvais
obliquely to them: and this difference is even a more essential one than
that between the smooth surface of the one and the reedy complication of
the other. The two squares here in the margin (Fig. XV.) are exactly of
the same size, but their expression is altogether different, and in that
difference lies one of the most subtle distinctions between the Gothic
and Greek spirit,--from the shaft, which bears the building, to the
smallest decoration. The Greek square is by preference set evenly, the
Gothic square obliquely; and that so constantly, that wherever we find
the level or even square occurring as a prevailing form, either in plan
or decoration, in early northern work, there we may at least suspect the
presence of a southern or Greek influence; and, on the other hand,
wherever the oblique square is prominent in the south, we may
confidently look for farther evidence of the influence of the Gothic
architects. The rule must not of course be pressed far when, in either
school, there has been determined search for every possible variety of
decorative figures; and accidental circumstances may reverse the usual
system in special cases; but the evidence drawn from this character is
collaterally of the highest value, and the tracing it out is a pursuit
of singular interest. Thus, the Pisan Romanesque might in an instant be
pronounced to have been formed under some measure of Lombardic
influence, from the oblique squares set under its arches; and in it we
have the spirit of northern Gothic affecting details of the
southern;--obliquity of square, in magnificently shafted Romanesque. At
Monza, on the other hand, the levelled square is the characteristic
figure of the entire decoration of the façade of the Duomo, eminently
giving it southern character; but the details are derived almost
entirely from the northern Gothic. Here then we have southern spirit and
northern detail. Of the cruciform outline of the load of the shaft, a
still more positive test of northern work, we shall have more to say in
the 28th Chapter; we must at present note certain farther changes in the
form of the grouped shaft, which open the way to every branch of its
endless combinations, southern or northern.
[Illustration: Fig. XVI.]
§ XV. 1. If the group at _d3_, Fig. XIV., be taken from under its
loading, and have its centre filled up, it will become a quatrefoil; and
it will represent, in their form of most frequent occurrence, a family
of shafts, whose plans are foiled figures, trefoils, quatrefoils,
cinquefoils, &c.; of which a trefoiled example, from the Frari at
Venice, is the third in Plate II., and a quatrefoil from Salisbury the
eighth. It is rare, however, to find in Gothic architecture shafts of
this family composed of a large number of foils, because multifoiled
shafts are seldom true grouped shafts, but are rather canaliculated
conditions of massy piers. The representatives of this family may be
considered as the quatrefoil on the Gothic side of the Alps; and the
Egyptian multifoiled shaft on the south, approximating to the general
type, _b_, Fig. XVI.
§ XVI. Exactly opposed to this great family is that of shafts which have
concave curves instead of convex on each of their sides; but these are
not, properly speaking, grouped shafts at all, and their proper place is
among decorated piers; only they must be named here in order to mark
their exact opposition to the foiled system. In their simplest form,
represented by _c_, Fig. XVI., they have no representatives in good
architecture, being evidently weak and meagre; but approximations to
them exist in late Gothic, as in the vile cathedral of Orleans, and in
modern cast-iron shafts. In their fully developed form they are the
Greek Doric, _a_, Fig. XVI., and occur in caprices of the Romanesque and
Italian Gothic: _d_, Fig. XVI., is from the Duomo of Monza.
§ XVII. 2. Between _c3_ and _d3_ of Fig. XIV. there may be evidently
another condition, represented at 6, Plate II., and formed by the
insertion of a central shaft within the four external ones. This central
shaft we may suppose to expand in proportion to the weight it has to
carry. If the external shafts expand in the same proportion, the entire
form remains unchanged; but if they do not expand, they may (1) be
pushed out by the expanding shaft, or (2) be gradually swallowed up in
its expansion, as at 4, Plate II. If they are pushed out, they are
removed farther from each other by every increase of the central shaft;
and others may then be introduced in the vacant spaces; giving, on the
plan, a central orb with an ever increasing host of satellites, 10,
Plate II.; the satellites themselves often varying in size, and perhaps
quitting contact with the central shaft. Suppose them in any of their
conditions fixed, while the inner shaft expands, and they will be
gradually buried in it, forming more complicated conditions of 4, Plate
II. The combinations are thus altogether infinite, even supposing the
central shaft to be circular only; but their infinity is multiplied by
many other infinities when the central shaft itself becomes square or
crosslet on the section, or itself multifoiled (8, Plate II.) with
satellite shafts eddying about its recesses and angles, in every
possible relation of attraction. Among these endless conditions of
change, the choice of the architect is free, this only being generally
noted: that, as the whole value of such piers depends, first, upon their
being wisely fitted to the weight above them, and, secondly, upon their
all working together: and one not failing the rest, perhaps to the ruin
of all, he must never multiply shafts without visible cause in the
disposition of members superimposed:[41] and in his multiplied group he
should, if possible, avoid a marked separation between the large central
shaft and its satellites; for if this exist, the satellites will either
appear useless altogether, or else, which is worse, they will look as if
they were meant to keep the central shaft together by wiring or caging
it in; like iron rods set round a supple cylinder,--a fatal fault in the
piers of Westminster Abbey, and, in a less degree, in the noble nave of
the cathedral of Bourges.
§ XVIII. While, however, we have been thus subdividing or assembling our
shafts, how far has it been possible to retain their curved or tapered
outline? So long as they remain distinct and equal, however close to
each other, the independent curvature may evidently be retained. But
when once they come in contact, it is equally evident that a column,
formed of shafts touching at the base and separate at the top, would
appear as if in the very act of splitting asunder. Hence, in all the
closely arranged groups, and especially those with a central shaft, the
tapering is sacrificed; and with less cause for regret, because it was a
provision against subsidence or distortion, which cannot now take place
with the separate members of the group. Evidently, the work, if safe at
all, must be executed with far greater accuracy and stability when its
supports are so delicately arranged, than would be implied by such
precaution. In grouping shafts, therefore, a true perpendicular line is,
in nearly all cases, given to the pier; and the reader will anticipate
that the two schools, which we have already found to be distinguished,
the one by its perpendicular and pieced shafts, and the other by its
curved and block shafts, will be found divided also in their employment
of grouped shafts;--it is likely that the idea of grouping, however
suggested, will be fully entertained and acted upon by the one, but
hesitatingly by the other; and that we shall find, on the one hand,
buildings displaying sometimes massy piers of small stones, sometimes
clustered piers of rich complexity, and on the other, more or less
regular succession of block shafts, each treated as entirely independent
of those around it.
§ XIX. Farther, the grouping of shafts once admitted, it is probable
that the complexity and richness of such arrangements would recommend
them to the eye, and induce their frequent, even their unnecessary
introduction; so that weight which might have been borne by a single
pillar, would be in preference supported by four or five. And if the
stone of the country, whose fragmentary character first occasioned the
building and piecing of the large pier, were yet in beds consistent
enough to supply shafts of very small diameter, the strength and
simplicity of such a construction might justify it, as well as its
grace. The fact, however, is that the charm which the multiplication of
line possesses for the eye has always been one of the chief ends of the
work in the grouped schools; and that, so far from employing the grouped
piers in order to the introduction of very slender block shafts, the
most common form in which such piers occur is that of a solid jointed
shaft, each joint being separately cut into the contour of the group
required.
§ XX. We have hitherto supposed that all grouped or clustered shafts
have been the result or the expression of an actual gathering and
binding together of detached shafts. This is not, however, always so:
for some clustered shafts are little more than solid piers channelled on
the surface, and their form appears to be merely the development of some
longitudinal furrowing or striation on the original single shaft. That
clustering or striation, whichever we choose to call it, is in this case
a decorative feature, and to be considered under the head of decoration.
§ XXI. It must be evident to the reader at a glance, that the real
serviceableness of any of these grouped arrangements must depend upon
the relative shortness of the shafts, and that, when the whole pier is
so lofty that its minor members become mere reeds or rods of stone,
those minor members can no longer be charged with any considerable
weight. And the fact is, that in the most complicated Gothic
arrangements, when the pier is tall and its satellites stand clear of
it, no real work is given them to do, and they might all be removed
without endangering the building. They are merely the _expression_ of a
great consistent system, and are in architecture what is often found in
animal anatomy,--a bone, or process of a bone, useless, under the
ordained circumstances of its life, to the particular animal in which it
is found, and slightly developed, but yet distinctly existent, and
representing, for the sake of absolute consistency, the same bone in its
appointed, and generally useful, place, either in skeletons of all
animals, or in the genus to which the animal itself belongs.
§ XXII. Farther: as it is not easy to obtain pieces of stone long enough
for these supplementary shafts (especially as it is always unsafe to lay
a stratified stone with its beds upright) they have been frequently
composed of two or more short shafts set upon each other, and to conceal
the unsightly junction, a flat stone has been interposed, carved into
certain mouldings, which have the appearance of a ring on the shaft. Now
observe: the whole pier was the gathering of the whole wall, the base
gathers into base, the veil into the shaft, and the string courses of
the veil gather into these rings; and when this is clearly expressed,
and the rings do indeed correspond with the string courses of the wall
veil, they are perfectly admissible and even beautiful; but otherwise,
and occurring, as they do in the shafts of Westminster, in the middle of
continuous lines, they are but sorry make-shifts, and of late since gas
has been invented, have become especially offensive from their unlucky
resemblance to the joints of gas-pipes, or common water-pipes. There are
two leaden ones, for instance, on the left hand as one enters the abbey
at Poet's Corner, with their solderings and funnels looking exactly like
rings and capitals, and most disrespectfully mimicking the shafts of
the abbey, inside.
Thus far we have traced the probable conditions of shaft structure in
pure theory; I shall now lay before the reader a brief statement of the
facts of the thing in time past and present.
§ XXIII. In the earliest and grandest shaft architecture which we know,
that of Egypt, we have no grouped arrangements, properly so called, but
either single and smooth shafts, or richly reeded and furrowed shafts,
which represent the extreme conditions of a complicated group bound
together to sustain a single mass; and are indeed, without doubt,
nothing else than imitations of bundles of reeds, or of clusters of
lotus:[42] but in these shafts there is merely the idea of a group, not
the actual function or structure of a group; they are just as much solid
and simple shafts as those which are smooth, and merely by the method of
their decoration present to the eye the image of a richly complex
arrangement.
§ XXIV. After these we have the Greek shaft, less in scale, and losing
all suggestion or purpose of suggestion of complexity, its so-called
flutings being, visibly as actually, an external decoration.
§ XXV. The idea of the shaft remains absolutely single in the Roman and
Byzantine mind; but true grouping begins in Christian architecture by
the placing of two or more separate shafts side by side, each having its
own work to do; then three or four, still with separate work; then, by
such steps as those above theoretically pursued, the number of the
members increases, while they coagulate into a single mass; and we have
finally a shaft apparently composed of thirty, forty, fifty, or more
distinct members; a shaft which, in the reality of its service, is as
much a single shaft as the old Egyptian one; but which differs from the
Egyptian in that all its members, how many soever, have each individual
work to do, and a separate rib of arch or roof to carry: and thus the
great Christian truth of distinct services of the individual soul is
typified in the Christian shaft; and the old Egyptian servitude of the
multitudes, the servitude inseparable from the children of Ham, is
typified also in that ancient shaft of the Egyptians, which in its
gathered strength of the river reeds, seems, as the sands of the desert
drift over its ruin, to be intended to remind us for ever of the end of
the association of the wicked. "Can the rush grow up without mire, or
the flag grow without water?--So are the paths of all that forget God;
and the hypocrite's hope shall perish."
§ XXVI. Let the reader then keep this distinction of the three systems
clearly in his mind: Egyptian system, an apparent cluster supporting a
simple capital and single weight; Greek and Roman system, single shaft,
single weight; Gothic system, divided shafts, divided weight: at first
actually and simply divided, at last apparently and infinitely divided;
so that the fully formed Gothic shaft is a return to the Egyptian, but
the weight is divided in the one and undivided in the other.
§ XXVII. The transition from the actual to the apparent cluster, in the
Gothic, is a question of the most curious interest; I have thrown
together the shaft sections in Plate II. to illustrate it, and exemplify
what has been generally stated above.[43]
[Illustration: Plate II.
PLANS OF PIERS.]
1. The earliest, the most frequent, perhaps the most beautiful of all
the groups, is also the simplest; the two shafts arranged as at _b_ or
_c_, (Fig. XIV.) above, bearing an oblong mass, and substituted for the
still earlier structure _a_, Fig. XIV. In Plate XVII. (Chap. XXVII.) are
three examples of the transition: the one on the left, at the top, is
the earliest single-shafted arrangement, constant in the rough
Romanesque windows; a huge hammer-shaped capital being employed to
sustain the thickness of the wall. It was rapidly superseded by the
double shaft, as on the right of it; a very early example from the
cloisters of the Duomo, Verona. Beneath, is a most elaborate and perfect
one from St. Zeno of Verona, where the group is twice complicated, two
shafts being used, both with quatrefoil sections. The plain double
shaft, however, is by far the most frequent, both in the Northern and
Southern Gothic, but for the most part early; it is very frequent in
cloisters, and in the singular one of St. Michael's Mount, Normandy, a
small pseudo-arcade runs along between the pairs of shafts, a miniature
aisle. The group is employed on a magnificent scale, but ill
proportioned, for the main piers of the apse of the cathedral of
Coutances, its purpose being to conceal one shaft behind the other, and
make it appear to the spectator from the nave as if the apse were
sustained by single shafts, of inordinate slenderness. The attempt is
ill-judged, and the result unsatisfactory.
[Illustration: Fig. XVII.]
§ XXVIII. 2. When these pairs of shafts come near each other, as
frequently at the turnings of angles (Fig. XVII.), the quadruple group
results, _b_ 2, Fig. XIV., of which the Lombardic sculptors were
excessively fond, usually tying the shafts together in their centre, in
a lover's knot. They thus occur in Plate V., from the Broletto of Como;
at the angle of St. Michele of Lucca, Plate XXI.; and in the balustrade
of St. Mark's. This is a group, however, which I have never seen used on
a large scale.[44]
§ XXIX. 3. Such groups, consolidated by a small square in their centre,
form the shafts of St. Zeno, just spoken of, and figured in Plate XVII.,
which are among the most interesting pieces of work I know in Italy. I
give their entire arrangement in Fig. XVIII.: both shafts have the same
section, but one receives a half turn as it ascends, giving it an
exquisite spiral contour: the plan of their bases, with their plinth, is
given at 2, Plate II.; and note it carefully, for it is an epitome of
all that we observed above, respecting the oblique and even square. It
was asserted that the oblique belonged to the north, the even to the
south: we have here the northern Lombardic nation naturalised in Italy,
and, behold, the oblique and even quatrefoil linked together; not
confused, but actually linked by a bar of stone, as seen in Plate XVII.,
under the capitals.
[Illustration: Fig. XVIII.]
4. Next to these, observe the two groups of five shafts each, 5 and 6,
Plate II., one oblique, the other even. Both are from upper stories; the
oblique one from the triforium of Salisbury; the even one from the upper
range of shafts in the façade of St. Mark's at Venice.[45]
§ XXX. Around these central types are grouped, in Plate II., four simple
examples of the satellitic cluster, all of the Northern Gothic: 4, from
the Cathedral of Amiens; 7, from that of Lyons (nave pier); 8, the same
from Salisbury; 10, from the porch of Notre Dame, Dijon, having
satellites of three magnitudes: 9 is one of the piers between the doors
of the same church, with shafts of four magnitudes, and is an instance
of the confusion of mind of the Northern architects between piers proper
and jamb mouldings (noticed farther in the next chapter, § XXXI.): for
this fig. 9, which is an angle at the meeting of two jambs, is treated
like a rich independent shaft, and the figure below, 12, which is half
of a true shaft, is treated like a meeting of jambs.
All these four examples belonging to the oblique or Northern system, the
curious trefoil plan, 3, lies _between_ the two, as the double
quatrefoil next it _unites_ the two. The trefoil is from the Frari,
Venice, and has a richly worked capital in the Byzantine manner,--an
imitation, I think, of the Byzantine work by the Gothic builders: 1 is
to be compared with it, being one of the earliest conditions of the
cross shaft, from the atrium of St. Ambrogio at Milan. 13 is the nave
pier of St. Michele at Pavia, showing the same condition more fully
developed: and 11 another nave pier from Vienne, on the Rhone, of far
more distinct Roman derivation, for the flat pilaster is set to the
nave, and is fluted like an antique one. 12 is the grandest development
I have ever seen of the cross shaft, with satellite shafts in the nooks
of it: it is half of one of the great western piers of the cathedral of
Bourges, measuring eight feet each side, thirty-two round.[46] Then the
one below (15) is half of a nave pier of Rouen Cathedral, showing the
mode in which such conditions as that of Dijon (9) and that of Bourges
(12) were fused together into forms of inextricable complexity
(inextricable I mean in the irregularity of proportion and projection,
for all of them are easily resolvable into simple systems in connexion
with the roof ribs). This pier of Rouen is a type of the last condition
of the good Gothic; from this point the small shafts begin to lose
shape, and run into narrow fillets and ridges, projecting at the same
time farther and farther in weak tongue-like sections, as described in
the "Seven Lamps." I have only here given one example of this family, an
unimportant but sufficiently characteristic one (16) from St. Gervais of
Falaise. One side of the nave of that church is Norman, the other
Flamboyant, and the two piers 14 and 16 stand opposite each other. It
would be useless to endeavor to trace farther the fantasticism of the
later Gothic shafts; they become mere aggregations of mouldings very
sharply and finely cut, their bases at the same time running together in
strange complexity and their capitals diminishing and disappearing. Some
of their conditions, which, in their rich striation, resemble crystals
of beryl, are very massy and grand; others, meagre, harsh, or effeminate
in themselves, are redeemed by richness and boldness of decoration; and
I have long had it in my mind to reason out the entire harmony of this
French Flamboyant system, and fix its types and possible power. But
this inquiry is foreign altogether to our present purpose, and we shall
therefore turn back from the Flamboyant to the Norman side of the
Falaise aisle, resolute for the future that all shafts of which we may
have the ordering, shall be permitted, as with wisdom we may also permit
men or cities, to gather themselves into companies, or constellate
themselves into clusters, but not to fuse themselves into mere masses of
nebulous aggregation.
FOOTNOTES:
[38] In saying this, it is assumed that the interval is one which is
to be traversed by men; and that a certain relation of the shafts
and intervals to the size of the human figure is therefore
necessary. When shafts are used in the upper stories of buildings,
or on a scale which ignores all relation to the human figure, no
such relative limits exist either to slenderness or solidity.
[39] Vide the interesting discussion of this point in Mr.
Fergusson's account of the Temple of Karnak, "Principles of Beauty
in Art," p. 219.
[40] I have assumed that the strength of similar shafts of equal
height is as the squares of their diameters; which, though not
actually a correct expression, is sufficiently so for all our
present purposes.
[41] How far this condition limits the system of shaft grouping we
shall see presently. The reader must remember, that we at present
reason respecting shafts in the abstract only.
[42] The capitals being formed by the flowers, or by a
representation of the bulging out of the reeds at the top, under the
weight of the architrave.
[43] I have not been at the pains to draw the complicated piers in
this plate with absolute exactitude to the scale of each: they are
accurate enough for their purpose: those of them respecting which we
shall have farther question will be given on a much larger scale.
[44] The largest I remember support a monument in St. Zeno of
Verona; they are of red marble, some ten or twelve feet high.
[45] The effect of this last is given in Plate VI. of the folio
series.
[46] The entire development of this cross system in connexion with
the vaulting ribs, has been most clearly explained by Professor
Willis (Architecture of Mid. Ages, Chap. IV.); and I strongly
recommend every reader who is inclined to take pains in the matter,
to read that chapter. I have been contented, in my own text, to
pursue the abstract idea of shaft form.
CHAPTER IX.
THE CAPITAL.
§ I. The reader will remember that in Chap. VII. § V. it was said that
the cornice of the wall, being cut to pieces and gathered together,
formed the capital of the column. We have now to follow it in its
transformation.
We must, of course, take our simplest form or root of cornices (_a_, in
Fig. V., above). We will take X and Y there, and we must necessarily
gather them together as we did Xb and Yb in Chap. VII. Look back to the
tenth paragraph of Chap. VII., read or glance it over again, substitute
X and Y for Xb and Yb, read capital for base, and, as we said that the
capital was the hand of the pillar, while the base was its foot, read
also fingers for toes; and as you look to the plate, Fig. XII., turn it
upside down. Then _h_, in Fig. XII., becomes now your best general form
of block capital, as before of block base.
§ II. You will thus have a perfect idea of the analogies between base
and capital; our farther inquiry is into their differences. You cannot
but have noticed that when Fig. XII. is turned upside down, the square
stone (Y) looks too heavy for the supporting stone (X); and that in the
profile of cornice (_a_ of Fig. V.) the proportions are altogether
different. You will feel the fitness of this in an instant when you
consider that the principal function of the sloping part in Fig. XII. is
as a prop to the pillar to keep it from _slipping aside_; but the
function of the sloping stone in the cornice and capital is to _carry
weight above_. The thrust of the slope in the one case should therefore
be lateral, in the other upwards.
§ III. We will, therefore, take the two figures, _e_ and _h_ of Fig.
XII., and make this change in them as we reverse them, using now the
exact profile of the cornice _a_,--the father of cornices; and we shall
thus have _a_ and _b_, Fig. XIX.
[Illustration: Fig. XIX.]
Both of these are sufficiently ugly, the reader thinks; so do I; but we
will mend them before we have done with them: that at _a_ is assuredly
the ugliest,--like a tile on a flower-pot. It is, nevertheless, the
father of capitals; being the simplest condition of the gathered father
of cornices. But it is to be observed that the diameter of the shaft
here is arbitrarily assumed to be small, in order more clearly to show
the general relations of the sloping stone to the shaft and upper stone;
and this smallness of the shaft diameter is inconsistent with the
serviceableness and beauty of the arrangement at _a_, if it were to be
realised (as we shall see presently); but it is not inconsistent with
its central character, as the representative of every species of
possible capital; nor is its tile and flower-pot look to be regretted,
as it may remind the reader of the reported origin of the Corinthian
capital. The stones of the cornice, hitherto called X and Y, receive,
now that they form the capital, each a separate name; the sloping stone
is called the Bell of the capital, and that laid above it, the Abacus.
Abacus means a board or tile: I wish there were an English word for it,
but I fear there is no substitution possible, the term having been long
fixed, and the reader will find it convenient to familiarise himself
with the Latin one.
§ IV. The form of base, _e_ of Fig. XII., which corresponds to this
first form of capital, _a_, was said to be objectionable only because it
_looked_ insecure; and the spurs were added as a kind of pledge of
stability to the eye. But evidently the projecting corners of the abacus
at _a_, Fig. XIX., are _actually_ insecure; they may break off, if great
weight be laid upon them. This is the chief reason of the ugliness of
the form; and the spurs in _b_ are now no mere pledges of apparent
stability, but have very serious practical use in supporting the angle
of the abacus. If, even with the added spur, the support seems
insufficient, we may fill up the crannies between the spurs and the
bell, and we have the form _c_.
Thus _a_, though the germ and type of capitals, is itself (except under
some peculiar conditions) both ugly and insecure; _b_ is the first type
of capitals which carry light weight; _c_, of capitals which carry
excessive weight.
§ V. I fear, however, the reader may think he is going slightly too
fast, and may not like having the capital forced upon him out of the
cornice; but would prefer inventing a capital for the shaft itself,
without reference to the cornice at all. We will do so then; though we
shall come to the same result.
The shaft, it will be remembered, has to sustain the same weight as the
long piece of wall which was concentrated into the shaft; it is enabled
to do this both by its better form and better knit materials; and it can
carry a greater weight than the space at the top of it is adapted to
receive. The first point, therefore, is to expand this space as far as
possible, and that in a form more convenient than the circle for the
adjustment of the stones above. In general the square is a more
convenient form than any other; but the hexagon or octagon is sometimes
better fitted for masses of work which divide in six or eight
directions. Then our first impulse would be to put a square or hexagonal
stone on the top of the shaft, projecting as far beyond it as might be
safely ventured; as at _a_, Fig. XX. This is the abacus. Our next idea
would be to put a conical shaped stone beneath this abacus, to support
its outer edge, as at _b_. This is the bell.
[Illustration: Fig. XX.]
§ VI. Now the entire treatment of the capital depends simply on the
manner in which this bell-stone is prepared for fitting the shaft below
and the abacus above. Placed as at _a_, in Fig. XIX., it gives us the
simplest of possible forms; with the spurs added, as at _b_, it gives
the germ of the richest and most elaborate forms: but there are two
modes of treatment more dexterous than the one, and less elaborate than
the other, which are of the highest possible importance,--modes in which
the bell is brought to its proper form by truncation.
§ VII. Let _d_ and _f_, Fig. XIX., be two bell-stones; _d_ is part of a
cone (a sugar-loaf upside down, with its point cut off); _f_ part of a
four-sided pyramid. Then, assuming the abacus to be square, _d_ will
already fit the shaft, but has to be chiselled to fit the abacus; _f_
will already fit the abacus, but has to be chiselled to fit the shaft.
From the broad end of _d_ chop or chisel off, in four vertical planes,
as much as will leave its head an exact square. The vertical cuttings
will form curves on the sides of the cone (curves of a curious kind,
which the reader need not be troubled to examine), and we shall have the
form at _e_, which is the root of the greater number of Norman capitals.
From _f_ cut off the angles, beginning at the corners of the square and
widening the truncation downwards, so as to give the form at _g_, where
the base of the bell is an octagon, and its top remains a square. A
very slight rounding away of the angles of the octagon at the base of
_g_ will enable it to fit the circular shaft closely enough for all
practical purposes, and this form, at _g_, is the root of nearly all
Lombardic capitals.
If, instead of a square, the head of the bell were hexagonal or
octagonal, the operation of cutting would be the same on each angle; but
there would be produced, of course, six or eight curves on the sides of
_e_, and twelve or sixteen sides to the base of _g_.
[Illustration: Fig. XXI.]
§ VIII. The truncations in _e_ and _g_ may of course be executed on
concave or convex forms of _d_ and _f_; but _e_ is usually worked on a
straight-sided bell, and the truncation of _g_ often becomes concave
while the bell remains straight; for this simple reason,--that the sharp
points at the angles of _g_, being somewhat difficult to cut, and easily
broken off, are usually avoided by beginning the truncation a little way
down the side of the bell, and then recovering the lost ground by a
deeper cut inwards, as here, Fig. XXI. This is the actual form of the
capitals of the balustrades of St. Mark's: it is the root of all the
Byzantine Arab capitals, and of all the most beautiful capitals in the
world, whose function is to express lightness.
§ IX. We have hitherto proceeded entirely on the assumption that the
form of cornice which was gathered together to produce the capital was
the root of cornices, _a_ of Fig. V. But this, it will be remembered,
was said in § VI. of Chap. VI. to be especially characteristic of
southern work, and that in northern and wet climates it took the form of
a dripstone.
Accordingly, in the northern climates, the dripstone gathered together
forms a peculiar northern capital, commonly called the Early
English,[47] owing to its especial use in that style.
There would have been no absurdity in this if shafts were always to be
exposed to the weather; but in Gothic constructions the most important
shafts are in the inside of the building. The dripstone sections of
their capitals are therefore unnecessary and ridiculous.
§ X. They are, however, much worse than unnecessary.
[Illustration: Fig. XXII.]
The edge of the dripstone, being undercut, has no bearing power, and the
capital fails, therefore, in its own principal function; and besides
this, the undercut contour admits of no distinctly visible decoration;
it is, therefore, left utterly barren, and the capital looks as if it
had been turned in a lathe. The Early English capital has, therefore,
the three greatest faults that any design can have: (1) it fails in its
own proper purpose, that of support; (2) it is adapted to a purpose to
which it can never be put, that of keeping off rain; (3) it cannot be
decorated.
The Early English capital is, therefore, a barbarism of triple
grossness, and degrades the style in which it is found, otherwise very
noble, to one of second-rate order.
§ XI. Dismissing, therefore, the Early English capital, as deserving no
place in our system, let us reassemble in one view the forms which have
been legitimately developed, and which are to become hereafter subjects
of decoration. To the forms _a_, _b_, and _c_, Fig. XIX., we must add
the two simplest truncated forms _e_ and _g_, Fig. XIX., putting their
abaci on them (as we considered their contours in the bells only), and
we shall have the five forms now given in parallel perspective in Fig.
XXII., which are the roots of all good capitals existing, or capable of
existence, and whose variations, infinite and a thousand times infinite,
are all produced by introduction of various curvatures into their
contours, and the endless methods of decoration superinduced on such
curvatures.
§ XII. There is, however, a kind of variation, also infinite, which
takes place in these radical forms, before they receive either curvature
or decoration. This is the variety of proportion borne by the different
lines of the capital to each other, and to the shafts. This is a
structural question, at present to be considered as far as is possible.
[Illustration: Fig. XXIII.]
§ XIII. All the five capitals (which are indeed five orders with
legitimate distinction; very different, however, from the five orders as
commonly understood) may be represented by the same profile, a section
through the sides of _a_, _b_, _d_, and _e_, or through the angles of
_c_, Fig. XXII. This profile we will put on the top of a shaft, as at A,
Fig. XXIII., which shaft we will suppose of equal diameter above and
below for the sake of greater simplicity: in this simplest condition,
however, relations of proportion exist between five quantities, any one
or any two, or any three, or any four of which may change, irrespective
of the others. These five quantities are:
1. The height of the shaft, _a b_;
2. Its diameter, _b c_;
3. The length of slope of bell, _b d_;
4. The inclination of this slope, or angle _c b d_;
5. The depth of abacus, _d e_.
For every change in any one of these quantities we have a new proportion
of capital: five infinities, supposing change only in one quantity at a
time: infinity of infinities in the sum of possible changes.