[Illustration]
We now arrive at the third and last of the Orders, or that which is
distinguished from the other two, more by its deep and foliaged capital
than by its proportions,—at least it is chiefly so distinguished
from the Ionic, with which it has in other respects many points in
common; for the columns of both have bases differing but little from
each other, and their shafts are fluted in the same manner. How this
Order came to obtain the name of Corinthian is not very clear; nor
is it, architecturally, of any moment whether such name be right or
wrong. All that is certain is, that examples of this Order have not
been found at Corinth itself, where, judging from its name, it would
seem to have been the prevalent style of building, and there brought
to perfection. There is a pretty legend relative to the origin of the
Corinthian capital, which, if not true, has at least probability in
its favour, and is many degrees less nonsensical than the supposed
origin of the Ionic one. Nay, it is even valuable and instructive, as
showing how well a skilful artist can derive hints from trivial or
accidental circumstances, and by improving upon them, turn them to
account. As the story goes, the sculptor Callicrates was so struck by
the graceful forms into which the leaves of an acanthus plant had grown
up around a tall basket covered by a square slab, that he sketched
it, and conceived the idea of fashioning the capital of a column
after it. It must be owned that the anecdote seems itself to be an
invention intended to account poetically for the origin of such form
of capital, and perhaps on no better grounds than that of a fancied
general resemblance,—just as some dreamers have detected the origin of
the Gothic style in an avenue of lofty over-arching trees, or in the
interlacing stems of a framing of wicker-work. Unluckily for the credit
of so respectable a legend, the earliest examples exhibit, instead of
the strongest and most direct resemblance to the presumed prototype,
the faintest and most vague of all. The Corinthian capital seems rather
to have developed itself gradually out of the Doric one; first, by its
necking being deepened and ornamented with a row of leaves, and then
afterwards the echinus suppressed, and the whole body of the capital
made to expand in a concave curve up to the abacus, with a second row
of plain and flatter leaves above the first one. At least the capitals
to the small columns of the porches of the Tower of the Winds at
Athens, and others discovered at Miletus and elsewhere, seem to favour
such hypothesis; and in further evidence of such Doric derivation
is the circumstance of the columns of the Tower of the Winds being
without bases. It will be argued, perhaps, that such examples do not
all answer to the character afterwards established and adhered to for
capitals belonging to that Order. Very true: but then they may surely
be received as incipient efforts and attempts towards the formation
of a third class of capitals; and in the instances just referred to,
the overhanging square abacus without any foliage or curling tendrils
spreading out to support its extremities, points, in our opinion,
clearly enough to a derivation from the Doric capital, considerably
enlarged downwards, and also greatly enriched. However, we leave others
either to adopt or reject this notion, just as they may be disposed.
At the best, all such questions are little better than matters of idle
curiosity, and must always remain questions after all.
To quit conjecture for fact, the fact is the Corinthian Order does
not appear to have been ever matured into a distinct style and
complete system by the Greeks. There is, indeed, one solitary Athenian
example of Corinthian, which exhibits the utmost refinement of
exquisite richness attempered by exquisite delicacy. In the Lysicrates
capital,—as we will for convenience call it (the example alluded to
being that of the monument of Lysicrates, otherwise called the Lantern
of Demosthenes, at Athens),—foliation may be said to have attained its
culminating point: rivalled it may be, but hardly surpassed. Still it
must be confessed, as a whole, that Order leaves much to be desired
for it, there being nothing of corresponding beauty and luxuriance in
the rest of it. The cornice, for instance, is only a simple dentelled
Ionic one, nor are any of the mouldings of the entablature cut. There
was, however, in that particular case, above the entablature, what
fully counterbalances and carries out the idea and expression of the
capitals, namely, the ornamental roofing, and the matchless finial
which crowns the structure, and produces a full climax of beauty and of
grace. Charming as the original itself is, or, more correctly speaking,
_was_, it has perhaps been more blunderingly copied and imitated
than almost any other antique structure. Although the whole—its
lofty-proportioned basement included—is not above 36 feet high, a copy
of it, or what calls itself such, has sometimes been hoisted up on the
top of a lofty tower, or raised on a modern church or chapel to serve
as its belfry; or else the columns and entablature have been taken just
verbatim, and applied, by way of change, as an Order, upon a scale for
which the capitals, at least, were never intended. The Strand front or
entrance of Exeter Hall consists of a loggia with lofty columns of the
kind, whose capitals, being placed at such a height, show as no better
than heavy sculptured masses whose details it is impossible, or at
least requires great patience, to make out. More preposterously still,
the Girard College at Philadelphia plumes itself upon exhibiting an
exact copy of this Order, where the columns are magnified to the height
of between fifty and sixty feet, so that all that can be made out of
the capital is, that it is exceedingly rich,—by very far too much so
for any other part or feature in the building;—and that is called being
classical!
Let us now consider the Corinthian Order in its general and prominent
characteristics, belonging to all varieties of it alike. Although
the Order itself is the most delicate and lightest of the three,
the capital is the largest, being considerably more than a diameter
in height,—upon the average, about a diameter and a quarter. This,
however, will cause the reader no surprise, if he bears in mind what
has been before said as to the proportion to be observed between the
column and its capital. The taller the former is, the taller must
be the latter also, and so far bulkier; although, while actually
increasing its bulk, its tallness corrects the appearance of heaviness
by giving the _proportion_ of slenderness. A capital whose height is
only half a diameter is, of course, by no means positively so bulky as
one which is upwards of an entire diameter in height, but then it is
much bulkier or broader in its proportions, being about twice as broad
as it is high,—whereas the other is much higher than it is wide. This
explanation makes, we hope, the matter sufficiently clear, and that
after it the reader will not feel himself at all puzzled about it.
The capital has two rows of leaves, eight in each row, so disposed that
of the taller ones composing the upper row, one comes in the middle,
beneath each face of the abacus, and the lower leaves _alternate_
with the upper ones, coming between the stems of the latter; so that
in the first or lower tier of leaves there is in the middle of each
face a space between two leaves occupied by the stem of the central
leaf above them. Over these two rows is a third series of four leaves,
turned so as to support the small volutes which, in turn, support the
angles of the abacus. Besides these outer volutes, which are invariably
turned diagonally, as in the four-faced Ionic capital, there are two
other smaller ones, termed _caulicoli_, which meet each other beneath
a flower on the face of the abacus. The abacus itself is differently
shaped from what it is in either of the other two Orders. In the Doric
it is, as we have seen, merely a thick square slab, fitting the echinus
beneath it, and left perfectly plain. In the Ionic it is square, but
its sides are moulded, whether they are carved or not. The Corinthian
abacus, on the contrary, is not, properly speaking, a square, although
it may be said to be so in its general form, inasmuch as it possesses
_squareness_, having four equal sides. Instead of being straight, the
sides of the abacus are concave in plan, being curved outwards so as
to produce a sharp point at each corner, which is accordingly cut off.
Thus we find that the abacus here assumes a very different shape from
its original one; yet merely to know this is to know very little. Such
form of it is of course a distinction, but it was not for the sake of
distinction that it was adopted. It grew out of intention and purpose:
it was dictated by necessity—by artistic necessity at least, which
requires that the abacus should be adjusted to and conform to the upper
part of the capital, so that they fit each other. Now a square abacus
would not at all suit a capital whose foliage spreads out so widely at
its angles. We have spoken of the capitals of the Tower of the Winds,
as, according to our opinion, showing the earliest formation of what we
now call the Corinthian capital. In that example the abacus is square,
and the upper row of leaves are of the kind called _water-leaves_, from
their resemblance to those of water-plants, being broad and flat, and
merely carved upon the _vase_ or body of the capital. The next stage
of progress or transition was to add larger curling leaves and volutes
to support the angles of the abacus; but then if the abacus remained
square as before, it would either overhang the capital too much in the
centre of each face of it, or would not cover the enlarged sweep of
the leaves and volutes at the angles. Consequently, it was necessary to
effect both extension and reduction for the abacus,—extension at its
angles, and reduction as regards its general bulk, which beforehand
apparently very difficult, if not impossible feat, was accomplished
in the simplest manner possible, by merely curving the sides of the
abacus. Thus not only is the abacus expressly shaped in conformity with
the great projection of the leaves, &c., at the four angles of the
capital,[3] but a beautiful contrast, contributing to general harmony,
ensues in consequence,—the concave sides of the abacus corresponding
antithetically—in other words, contrasting with the general convexity
of the capital.
The general structure and configuration of the Corinthian capital are
now described, and, it is to be hoped, understood also. It may be
as well, however, just to recapitulate: the body of the capital is
surrounded by two rows of leaves, eight in each row; besides which
there are four leaves, which, with the volutes over them, serve to
support the four angles of the abacus, which is fashioned as we have
just been explaining. Simple and limited as these elementary and
_constitutional_ forms may be thought to be,—insufficient for any
great variety or range of character, the Corinthian capital admits of
almost infinite modification. Putting entirely aside all details and
their minutiæ, the capital of this Order is susceptible of very great
diversity of character in regard to its general proportions alone, as
may be seen by a comparison of a few—and they but a very _few_—examples
given in a note below.[4]
[3] For similar reason, the same concavity in the sides of the abacus
takes place in the four-faced Ionic capital, the abacus being so shaped
in order that it may subtend over and cover the diagonally turned
volutes.
[4] We place these examples according to their respective proportional
heights, beginning with the highest, and descending to the lowest,
and note their measurements in _minutes_ rather than in diameters
and fractional parts, as being the most direct and convenient mode
of comparison. The height of the capital is taken exclusive of the
astragal which divides it from the shaft of the column; and as the
_expansion_ of the capital upwards has also to be considered, the
extreme width of the abacus is also indicated.
Height of Diagonal of capital. abacus.
Lysicrates example 87' 94' Nerva do. (columns of the Forum of Nerva)
73' 90' Pantheon at Rome 69' 90' Jupiter Stator, Temple of, 66' 97'
Tivoli, Temple of the Sibyls, 60' 81'
Almost every antique example is marked by something peculiar to itself;
wherefore, properly to analyze them and compare them all, would require
not only some scores, but some hundreds of drawings, and hundreds
might be multiplied into thousands, were we to collect together all
the varieties of the descendants of the Corinthian or foliaged-capital
column that are to be found in buildings of the so-called Byzantine
style, when the original idea of an Order had been entirely lost
sight of. In fact, all the compositions that have been produced with
the intention of producing a _new_, and what as such ought to be a
perfectly distinct Order, congruent in all its parts, have consisted of
little more than variations of the Corinthian capital; as if difference
in the details of the capital sufficed to constitute a different and
quite distinct Order. Properly understood, _Order_ is, if not exactly
so, little more than another word for style; and a new style is not to
be invented or established, like the alteration from old to new style
of the almanac by Act of Parliament. Style must of necessity grow up
gradually: the ideas of many minds must contribute to its formation.
From the examples whose proportions are stated in the preceding note,
it will be seen that the height of the capital varies from 60', or
just a diameter, to 87', or nearly half as much again; although it
must be allowed that the latter is a very unusual degree of height,
nor does that example (the Lysicrates one) belong, like the others,
to the Roman Corinthian class. Reserving our remarks on one or two
particular specimens of the latter till after we have spoken generally
of the other parts of the Order, we continue by saying that the proper
Corinthian base differs from that of the usual Ionic or Attic in having
two smaller scotiæ, separated by two astragals: however, both kinds are
employed indiscriminately, and the Attic is that which is generally
used, except a greater degree of delicacy and richness than ordinary
be required. As the shaft is fluted similarly to that of the Ionic
column, viz. with twenty-four channels, there is nothing for notice or
remark there, unless it be that the flutes are sometimes _cabled_, as
it is called, that is, the channels are hollowed out for only about
two-thirds of the upper part of the shaft, and the remainder cut so
that each channel has the appearance of being partly filled up by a
round staff or piece of rope, whence the term _cabling_. Though not
approved by puritan critics,—who, nevertheless, wink at, or else are
blind to much greater licenses,—this mode of fluting certainly gives
an expression of greater strength to the lower part of the column,
and, by contrast, that of greater delicacy to the upper one. Although
fluting, for the columns, seems to have been considered by the Ancients
essential to the character of this Order, the Moderns appear to
consider it quite a matter of indifference, and what may be omitted _at
discretion_. Undoubtedly there are several antique examples exceedingly
richly decorated in all other respects, yet with the shafts of the
columns unfluted; but then that was for very good reason, the shafts
being either of polished granite, or precious marble, whose intrinsic
value and beauty fully supplied the place of further embellishment.
ENTABLATURE.—The architrave is generally divided into three faciæ,
(the lower one much narrower than the others, which is rather contrary
to architectonic principle, the weaker member being placed under
heavier ones,) with mouldings between them, which, though frequently
left plain, are properly enriched in the best and most consistently
finished-up examples. We pass over the frieze, that being merely a
single surface, either plain or sculptured. The cornice is very much
larger than in the other Orders,—larger as to height, and consequently
as to projection also; which increased height and projection, and we
may add, increased richness, are demanded by the greatly enlarged
bulk of the capital and its more elaborate decoration. Examples vary
so greatly that we can give only approximating mean and average
proportions, which may be set down at about 2 diam. 12' for the whole
entablature, and 54', or something less than a diameter, for the
cornice; but it is in many instances more, in others as much less.
As may be supposed from this greatly increased depth of the cornice,
it consists of a greater number of mouldings beneath the corona, for
that and the cymatium over it invariably retain their places as the
crowning members of the whole series of mouldings. To the dentels of
the Ionic cornice is added a row of _modillions_, immediately beneath
and supporting the corona. These modillions are ornamental blocks,
curved in their under surface somewhat after the manner of the letter S
turned thus [symbol]; and between them and the dentels, and also below
the latter, are other mouldings, sometimes cut, at others left plain.
Sometimes a plain uncut _dentel band_ is substituted for dentels;
sometimes, in simpler cornices, that is omitted altogether, and plainer
blocks are employed instead of modillions; or else both dentels and
modillions are omitted, as in the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina,
notwithstanding that it is considerably enriched, even the face of the
corona being fluted.
[Illustration]
Besides the several varieties of the Corinthian shown in the whole
composition of the Order, or the columns and entablature together,
there are numerous fragmentary examples existing, either in single
columns or capitals alone, or in cornices and other parts of
entablatures; some of which display such prodigality of decoration
and such difference of character from the usual Corinthian, that they
might very well pass for belonging to a distinct Order, if that variety
which is classed as a separate one, under the name of COMPOSITE, can
with any propriety be reckoned such, merely because the volutes at the
angles of the capital are expanded into the proportions of those in the
Roman Ionic capital.
The very dissimilar varieties to be met with, all belonging to one and
the same Order, show plainly enough that the Architects of antiquity
considered themselves at liberty to design their own detail, and to
treat an Order as a composition marked out for them in its leading
forms and general proportions, but which they might fashion nearly _ad
libitum_ in other respects. Modern Architects adopt a contrary course,
which, if not particularly artistic, or even rational, is certainly
convenient; although in spite of all precaution to secure conformity
and maintain architectural orthodoxy, grievous licentiousness will
creep in. It is something to get what is only a faithful copy of an
ancient example, but it is only very rarely we get even that. For
instance, fluting is omitted for the columns where such decoration
may be required, in order to make them correspond with the degree of
richness given to the entablature; or else it is the latter with
which wholesale liberty is taken,—mouldings which in the cornice of
the original are more or less enriched, being left plain, or a bare
frieze substituted for a sculptured one, and other little liberties of
that kind, which are considered perfectly allowable, and to make hardly
any real difference, although they in fact alter the character of the
whole composition. Either the original is itself faulty, or it must
suffer by _piecemeal_ alteration. It will, perhaps, bear to be somewhat
reduced in richness, or, _vice versâ_, to have a greater degree of
decoration given it; but in whichever way such kind of alteration takes
place, it should be conducted uniformly for the whole composition. No
excellence of proportions can atone for _disproportion_ in regard to
consistency of embellishment, and for the general disharmony of the
whole composition. Italian Architects not unfrequently either overload
their compositions with ornament, or leave them quite bare, and make no
scruple of putting a cornice of the most meagre description, without
either dentels or modillions, to an Order whose capitals denote it to
be intended for Ionic or Corinthian.
It was, perhaps, fortunate both for Sir John Soane, and that example
of the Corinthian which he employed for the Bank of England, that it
was not an invention of his own, or it would, in all probability, have
been ridiculed as a monstrosity; and he would have been thought to
have there out-Soaned himself in whimsicality and capriciousness. As
it happens to be, however, an express copy from the circular Temple
at Tivoli, people are at liberty to admire it, more especially as the
mere application of it for the first time in this country—the only one
where it has been adopted—does not exalt Soane into the successful
inventor of a ‘new Order.’ In the system of the Orders it may certainly
be regarded as a newly-discovered planet, being so distinct from every
other example of the foliaged-capital class; distinct not only in the
capital itself, but in all its members, in all its proportions, in the
style of all its details, and, consequently, in its character. The
height of the column is only 9·25' diameters; the capital, measured
from above the astragal, only 1 diameter, and the entablature only
1·42' diameter. These proportions give the whole Order a certain
expression of masculine simplicity, more especially as the column is
hardly diminished at all, the difference between the upper and lower
diameter amounting to no more than 4', or only ¹/₁₅th of the larger
diameter, that being of course 60', and the other 56'. The base
consists of two _tori_, but instead of the usual scotiæ between, there
is merely a narrow plain fillet, and a second broader one, overhung by
the upper torus. Besides which, another peculiarity is, that the lower
torus is somewhat detached from the surface on which the column stands,
by a very narrow but deep incision beneath it,—a mode of treatment
quite different from the usual one of placing the base upon a square
plinth, but which, different as it is, does not produce, as might be
supposed, any appearance of weakness, the incision being no more than
a mere line—a delicate artistic touch. The fluting (at least the mode
in which the flutes are terminated) is not a little remarkable; for
below, they and the fillets are continued, and die into the upper edge
of the base; while above, they are terminated horizontally instead
of by a semicircular curve, as in all other examples of both Ionic
and Corinthian fluting. The capital is so exceedingly peculiar in
conformation and detail as to defy verbal description. The leaves
have nothing in common with those of the usual acanthus; the volutes
are of peculiar shape, and the flower which ornaments the abacus
is as singularly large, and descends to the top of the upper leaf:
boldness and breadth of parts characterize the whole composition, and
also that of the entablature. As all its mouldings are uncut, this
last would be much too plain to be in keeping with the column, were
not the frieze sculptured with rich and ‘bossy’ festoons in the same
energetic style as the capitals. Such ornamentation of the frieze is
absolutely part and parcel of the Order; and the value of it will be
best understood by comparing those parts of the Bank, in which it is
retained, with others in which it is omitted. The same Order, with
the frieze enriched, has also been since employed in the front of St.
Paul’s School, St. Paul’s Churchyard; but there, owing to windows and
other disturbing circumstances, its effect is greatly impaired, as
is the case even in the centre of the south front of the Bank itself,
where it differs widely from the beautiful loggia at the north-west
angle of that edifice, and compared with which it manifests in the part
first mentioned a sad falling off, becoming no better than a dull,
spiritless, prosaic version of its real self. In a word, it is out of
its element.
[Illustration]
The next, and it must be the last example which can here be noticed,
is that of the so-called ‘Jupiter Stator,’ which may be said to
exhibit _Corinthianism_ in its fullest luxuriance. Great as is the
dissimilarity between this and the preceding example of the Order, they
are alike in one respect, each being perfect in its way, complete, and
harmonious in all its parts; and we ought to be thankful that two such
opposite specimens of one and the same—namely, the foliaged-capital
style—have been preserved to us for our admiration, and for our
instruction also, as if on purpose to convince us what opposite kinds
of beauty may be arrived at where, though the general configuration of
the Order is adhered to, a different spirit and character are infused
into it. Of the example now referred to, the character is elaborate
richness subdued by refined taste. Though of lower proportions than
usual, the capital is singularly ornate, and a corresponding degree
of ornateness is diffused over the entire Order. The second or middle
facia of the architrave, and all the members of the cornice, except
the dentels and the cymatium over the corona, are sculptured, and the
whole is consistently finished up in every part. The first application
among us of this superb example of the Corinthian was in Holland’s
beautiful portico to Carlton House, where, instead of being moderated,
its richness was even augmented, the bases of the columns being carved,
and the frieze sculptured. That portico has disappeared: the columns,
indeed, still remain, having been used for the portico of the National
Gallery, but the Order itself exists no more—at least not there.
Another copy of it we now have in the Treasury Buildings, Whitehall,
where it was applied by Soane, but with no great judgment or taste,
his building being quite at variance with the Order he selected for
it, the former being any thing but Corinthian in character. Perhaps he
selected it, as we have done, for the purpose of exhibiting in two of
his works such very distinct styles of Corinthian as are the Tivoli and
the Jupiter Stator Orders. As now altered by Mr. Barry, the Treasury
Buildings have received a great accession of richness, and the frieze,
which was before plain, is now ornamented. But the Order itself is
not improved, at least does not show itself to the same advantage as
before, by being raised so much higher above the eye than it was at
first; it looks comparatively diminished, and the beauty of its details
is lost. We have, indeed, the Order; and nothing is wanting but that
impressiveness and effect which gave such charm to the portico of
Carlton House.
As to that variety of the Corinthian which passes under the name
of _Composite_, the reader may now, after what has been said and
shown, be left to judge whether it can with any propriety be classed
as a distinct Order, instead of being reckoned merely as a variety
of the other, and by no means the most striking variety of that
foliaged-capital class. The difference between the two extends to no
more than a part of the detail of the capital, the general normal
character or Corinthianism of which is no way affected. And if the
Ionic Order be allowed to comprehend many decidedly marked varieties
of the voluted-capital type, there surely can be no necessity for
splitting Doric and Corinthian, and getting out of them the Tuscan and
Composite Orders. It will, perhaps, be fancied by some that by thus
reducing the number of the Orders to three, we in some degree limit the
resources which the Architect derives from them. The fact, however, is
precisely the reverse; for although we limit them in number, we set no
limits to their respective powers. A hundred different examples, each
marked by individual character, or peculiarity of treatment, may yet
all belong to the same generic type or order. Ancient examples are not
to be considered merely as _patterns_, to be copied mechanically, but
as studies for the Architect’s guidance and instruction.