The main feature in which Perpendicular foliage differs from Decorated
is its tendency to squareness and to long sprawling leafage. The
squareness culminated in what is known as the Tudor ornament. Drilled
holes to emphasise the indentations of the leaves are also a frequent
feature. As most of the foliation is of a decadent Decorated character
with more or less marked tendencies of the kinds we have mentioned, it
does not seem worth while to disfigure this volume with many
illustrations of the decadence. We therefore select a few characteristic
specimens only, and then pass on to the wood-carving.
At Aldenham there is a monument (Pl. 79) of doubtful date in a spandril
of which is a human face with sprays coming out of its mouth--a fancy we
have noticed before in both Norman and later work. The foliage is like
the Decorated seaweed but more rippling and elongated.
On the back of Abbot Ramryge’s Chantry at St Albans (Pl. 80) is a string
of vine leaves and grapes of a very square type, and with numerous
drill-holes. This was probably executed in the abbot’s lifetime. He
died in 1524. The same class of vine stems and foliage is seen on Bishop
Alcock’s Chantry at Ely (Pl. 81). He died in 1500. A pulpit at North
Cerney, Glos, has some rather remarkable lilies on stiff stalks (Pl.
82).
In the spandrils of the canopies over the sedilia at St Mary’s, Oxford
(Pl. 83), there is foliage of a similar kind to that at Aldenham, but
better executed. The cornice above has vine stems with leaves of a very
square-cut conventional type, approaching the Tudor ornament in shape.
The carving is much broken, but can never have been anything but poor
and clumsy in design.
A much better specimen of this late and poor work is the watching loft
of St Frideswide’s shrine in the Oxford Cathedral, the general effect of
which is rich and ornate. A close examination, however, will show that
the richness is caused by elaborate multiplication of similar ornaments
and not by any excellence of design (Pl. 84). Below the openings is a
row of Tudor ornaments, well enough executed, as much like one another
as the dog-tooth of the thirteenth century or the ball-flower of the
fourteenth. Above is an arrangement of tall finials forming crocketed
pinnacles. Above these is a cornice of vine stems, with leaves and
grapes. This is much finer work than the others we have described, but
there is a lack of grace in the curves of the stems, and the same design
is repeated over and over again. On the top is another row of Tudor
ornaments of a slightly different shape from those below.
It is refreshing at last to come to something more original and with
more design about it. In the hollow of the mouldings of the west doorway
of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge (Pl. 85), and in the spandrils above
is some carving which is particularly interesting. Heraldic devices
appear in English architectural ornament as far back as the reign of
Henry III, when Simon de Montfort’s arms are sculptured on a wall arcade
at Westminster. Many shields and arms appear on the Percy Monument at
Beverley, but it is not until the Perpendicular period that armorial
bearings became the chief features of monuments and not until late in
the Tudor period that they appear on the walls of royal chapels. The
shields were at first triangular and simple in outline. Towards the end
of the Tudor period and the commencement of the Renaissance they
developed into plaques with curvilinear edges, round indentations and
curled-over projections, such as we frequently see placed on wrought
iron gates. These plaques, we would suggest, have a sort of family
resemblance to such leaves as we saw on the Ramryge Chantry at St
Albans. The royal masons who were employed at King’s College were very
expert in the carving of armorial bearings--crowns, portcullises, the
animal supporters, and Tudor roses. Great roses are carved on the walls
both of the interior and exterior of King’s, but the feature to which we
would specially call attention is the stems and leaves of these roses.
It is true that the size of the roses makes the whole design top-heavy,
and is almost like a caricature with a large head out of proportion to
the body, but the stem and leaves are a new departure. They are
naturalistic, and, being the work of skilled masons, they are well done.
They are the very last effort of Gothic stone-carving and indicate a
desire to break loose from the hard-and-fast convention, and return to
nature for a fresh inspiration. What this might have led to we do not
know, for Renaissance invasions nipped this effort in the bud, and
Gothic art expired. It should be mentioned that these roses and leaves
have been copied on the Houses of Parliament at Westminster.