The stiff-leaf convention having reached its extreme development, and
the resources of design and invention within its limits having been
exhausted, the masons of the later part of the thirteenth century looked
about for a fresh inspiration. They were skilled handicraftsmen and true
artists, not content to plod on in the old ways, but seeking fresh
opportunities of manifesting their cleverness. They began to feel the
restrictions of the stiff-leaf convention to be fettering them in their
self-expression, and no longer a guide and help.
Under these circumstances the next stage to be expected of such men was
a return to nature. In all healthy living art there is from time to time
this return to nature. Without this resource art cannot live and
progress. As an example of the lack of this recuperative refreshment we
may instance the designs of oriental carpets. Beautiful and satisfying
as the arrangements of colour usually are, the designs are contemptible.
If carefully examined it is sometimes possible to detect their origin,
and they are found to be copies of copies of the art introduced by
Alexander. They have been copied and copied without understanding from
age to age until they have become utterly degraded. We found something
of the same sort in Saxon England. Skilled masons were introduced from
the continent from time to time. They produced fairly good work and
native pupils copied them, but mere copying soon led to decline and
death.
The thirteenth-century masons, on the other hand, were full of life and
energy, and, having liberated themselves from a convention which had
become a prison, they took to copying natural leaves and flowers, and
prided themselves on rendering these with the utmost skill and accuracy.
They showed their taste in arrangement and their cleverness in details.
They carried their naturalism so far as to represent not merely veins
and minute structure, but even hairs and insects.
In France this naturalism came a little earlier, as the French masons
passed direct to it from the Romanesque Corinthian foliage without any
intermediate convention. For a short time, therefore, the English and
French foliage were very similar. In England, however, this stage did
not last long, but soon was followed by another convention--that of the
Decorated or Edwardian style of the fourteenth century.
The best collection of naturalistic foliage is in the chapter house of
Southwell Minster and its vestibule. In tympana and mouldings and on
capitals here we find the leaves of oak, maple, vine, may, rose, hop,
fig, etc., etc., delicately carved in exact imitation of nature. Instead
of straight stalks rising from the necking of capitals the cut-off
stalks belonging to each leaf appear to be stuck on to the bell above
the necking. In fact the effect is as if leaves with their stalks had
been plucked from the trees or plants, glued on to the bells and
petrified there. The work is so cleverly done that it almost disarms
criticism, and it has sometimes been regarded as the most beautiful and
perfect type of Gothic foliage. Against this, however, it must be urged
that they are of the nature of applied ornament rather than
architecturally part of the building. They suggest a temporary adornment
like beautiful clothing which is removable rather than a permanent
portion of the structure. They do not impart a sense of rest and
strength, but look as if a strong gust of wind might blow them away.
These remarks apply specially to such a capital as that illustrated in
Pl. 57, and the very charming group of capitals on the entrance doorway
(Pl. 58). Some of the gables (Pl. 59) contain human faces or dragons
intertwined with the sprays of foliage. These, having a flat background,
have a more solid appearance and are delightful.
The Cantilupe Shrine at Hereford has naturalistic carving on the
spandrils between the weepers’ housings. No two spandrils are alike. All
are arranged with great taste, and gracefully fill the spaces they
occupy (Pl. 60).
Heads among foliage belong to all periods, and the carving of a spray
coming out of the mouth is a very old fancy. The earliest instance we
have illustrated is the one at Hemel Hempstead (Pl. 6). Of this period
one occurs on a tomb at Winchelsea (Pl. 61) where sprays of oak leaves
come from the mouth of a well-executed face, and spread to fill the
lobes of an ogeed trefoil panel. On the spandrils between the arches of
the shrine of St Frideswide at Oxford, there are rather flat sprays of
leaves of forest trees, with a face in their midst. This is thought to
commemorate an episode in the life of the saint, when she was hiding in
a wood (Pl. 62).
Among the best known examples of this style are the corbels of the
vaulting shafts in the choir of Exeter Cathedral. The two corbels we
illustrate (Pls. 63 and 64) show excellent naturalistic carvings of oak
and wild celery(?) leaves. Among the oak leaves are acorns and oak
apples.
As we remarked above, the naturalistic period did not last long in
England. Most of the examples were probably executed within the twenty
years from 1280 to 1300. Although a new convention then began, a
naturalistic treatment of details survived for a long time. We find
occasional instances of it right up to the Tudor period, and a distinct
revival of it, as on the west doorway of King’s College Chapel,
Cambridge, was the last effort of the Gothic masons before they were
swamped by Renaissance ideas (Pl. 85).
Before leaving this subject it may be interesting to compare the
treatment of roses in the four centuries the work of which we are
describing. In the twelfth century, the Norman or Romanesque style, we
find a few specimens, such as those at Iffley (Pl. 65), where the petals
are arranged in a double row round a central disc forming rosettes
rather than roses. Of the thirteenth century Early English style there
are some similar specimens, as at Lincoln (Pl. 66) on the doorways into
the choir aisles, but here the petals are in triple rows. Of the
fourteenth-century Decorated style some specimens, as at Fyfield, Essex
(Pl. 67), are more globular, without any definite arrangement in rows.
The roses on the chapterhouse doorway at Rochester are single with flat
petals, bulged in the middle (Pl. 68). On some of the late fourteenth or
early fifteenth-century fonts, as at Erwarton (Pl. 69), there are large
flat roses set in panels. They are of a conventional heraldic type. The
petals are arranged formally in two rows round a central disc which is
covered with knobs to represent stamens. The leaves are square-cut with
rounded corners and indented outer edge.
Tudor roses, as seen at King’s College Chapel, Cambridge (Pl. 85), are
again more naturalistic, with several rows of petals and a large central
disc. Cut stalks are seen between the outer petals. The gateway of St
John’s College, Cambridge (Pl. 70), has some good specimens of Tudor
roses together with a quantity of daisies, the emblem of the Lady
Margaret. In describing these as naturalistic we must remember that
there has no doubt been considerable development and modification of
cultivated roses in the course of the centuries. Those of the twelfth,
thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth centuries may have differed a good
deal from those of to-day.