together to make it solid. The cementing process happens in this way
in our rocks, which are almost purely silicious: Water containing a
minute quantity of carbonic acid in solution, which most rain-water
does, especially when it comes into contact with decaying vegetation,
has the power of dissolving silica to a slight extent. This is proved
in various ways, and is shown in the fact that all river water
contains more or less silica in solution.
The circulation of water through the sand deposit of which our rocks
are made dissolves part of the grains, and the silica taken up is
redeposited on others. I cannot explain the chemical reaction that
produces this deposition, but that it takes place in the rock during
some period of its history is certain. I exhibit a quartzite pebble
taken from the Triassic sandstone at Stanlow Point, which, as can be
easily seen, was at one time worn perfectly smooth by attrition and
long-continued wear, for the quartzite is very hard. Upon this worn
surface you will see spangles and facets which reflect the light, and
on closer inspection it will be evident that they are crystals of
quartz that have been deposited upon the surface of the worn pebble
after it became finally enclosed in the rock.
A microscopic examination of the granules of the rock itself will show
that many of them have had crystalline quartz deposited upon their
surfaces, and in some cases rounded grains have in this way become
almost perfect crystals.
An examination of the best sandstones for building purposes shows that
they possess more of these crystalline particles than the inferior
ones, and a good silicious sandstone shows its good quality by a fresh
fracture sparkling in the sun. In addition to these crystalline
deposits of silica I believe it exists also as a cement which binds
the particles together when in contact.
It certainly is, however, with this secondary silica that the original
sand has become a building stone, and the particles have become
interlaced and bound together. Thus, in building parlance, the grains
are the rubble of the wall, the currents the quarrymen, masons and
laborers, and the silicious infiltration the mortar.
And now, when I am on the subject, I may point out that this hard and
compact quartzite pebble was also once loose sand. The only difference
between the sandstone in which it was imbedded and itself is that in
the latter case the process of silicious deposit has gone further, so
that all the interstices between the grains have been absolutely
filled up with the cement.
It is not possible to see this clearly with the naked eye, but by the
aid of a slice of the rock prepared for the microscope the granular
structure of the quartzite is made perfectly plain. So much for the
mechanical, chemical, and molecular structure of sandstone, all of
which affect the strength and quality of the stone; but to architects
there is another element of consequence, namely, the color. The rich
red of our Triassic sandstones is due to a pellicle of peroxide of
iron coating each of the grains. That this is merely surface coloring
is shown by the fact that hydro-chloric acid will discharge the color
and leave the grains translucent. Unfortunately the most brilliantly
colored stone is not the most durable, and it so happens that these
brilliant red sandstones are often composed of exceedingly rounded
grains. Also some of the very red sandstone has an interfilling of a
loose argillaceous irony matter detrimental to the stone as a building
stone. The most durable of the red sandstones are those having a paler
or grayer hue, like those of Woolton, Everton, and Runcorn. This
distinction of color was brought freshly to my mind a short time since
in looking at the church of Llandyrnog, in the Vale of Clwyd, a few
miles from Ruthin. Some of the dressings, quoins for instance, were of
a very brilliant-colored red sandstone, and others of a pale gray or
purple red. It struck me that these latter must be of Runcorn stone,
which I was afterwards informed was the case. The very red stone was
the natural stone of the Vale, originally used for dressings, which
were replaced, on the restorations being made, with Runcorn stone. The
original stone was æsthetically the best, but the introduced stone the
best structurally. The old stone of Chester Cathedral was a very red
Bunter sandstone, which decayed badly. It has been replaced in the
restorations by Runcorn stone, which belongs to the Keuper division,
which has caused the Geological Surveyors to say that the Keuper is a
better building stone than the Bunter. In this case it is; but, on the
other hand, the Bunter sandstones, or Pebble-beds, as they are called,
near Liverpool, are often better than the Runcorn Keuper. The Runcorn
building stone lies between two beds of very red loose rock, showing
that it is not its geological position, but its _structure_, that
makes it a good durable stone.
It is a remarkable fact that most of the pebbles included in the red
rocks are quartzites, or indurated silicious sandstones; and, as
showing that their solidity and hardness are due only to a further
continuance of the deposit of silica in the interstices, it has been
proved that the purple quartzites are purple only by reason of the
original coloration of the grains which have been enclosed between the
original grains and the secondary silica. Yellow sandstone is colored
also by iron, and I have frequently seen the red sandstone shading of
to the yellow without any division whatever. The various shades and
tints of sandstone are necessarily due to the coloration of the
individual grains.
Most of you will, no doubt, have observed the sort of marbling or
grain upon the stone of our old buildings, such as the Town-Hall,
which I believe was obtained from quarries occupying the site of the
St. James's Cemetery. This is due to what is called current bedding;
that is to say, the grains have been arranged along oblique lines and
curves instead of in parallel laminæ. This stone, which is
geologically equivalent to the Storeton Stone, and of the same nature,
has stood very well. Some of the Storeton Stone, if free from clay
galls, although very soft when quarried, becomes hardened by exposure,
and will stand the weather much better than a harder and more
pretentious material.
The stone of Compton House is in a very good condition, although the
mason told me such was the hurry in rebuilding that they could not
stop to select the stone, and also that it is placed in all sorts of
positions with respect to its quarry bed. Perhaps the circumstances
that the stone is not in parallel laminæ may have something to do with
its durability, notwithstanding this latter fact.
It would take a long Paper, and several evenings, to exhaust the
subject even of our local stones. I may mention, however, that the
quarries of Grinshill, between Shrewsbury and Hawkstone, yield a
beautiful white sandstone, of a finer grain than Storeton, but of a
similar quality.
Most of the public buildings of Shrewsbury are built of it, and I am
informed that it was to some extent used in the Exchange buildings.
The rocky substratum of a district can be well seen in its ancient
buildings, for in old times carriage was so important an item that the
old builders could not go far for their stone; hence we see that the
old churches of part of Lancashire and most of Cheshire, and a large
portion of Shropshire, are of red sandstone. Some of it has stood very
well, while some has decayed into shapeless masses. There is a
tendency to exfoliate parallel to the exposed or worked surface, in
all stones, irrespective of the way of the bed, but more so where the
stone is set up on edge, or at right angles, to its quarry bed. It is
interesting and peculiar to see in some of the old buildings erected
with pebbly sandstone how the white quartz pebbles stand out from the
surface like _warts_. This is due to the greater indestructibility of
the quartz pebbles, and the weathering away, or denudation, of the
sandstone face.
Before leaving the subject of local sandstones it will be necessary to
refer to one quality they have which is of excellent utility as
regards the storage of water, but which is decidedly a disadvantage in
building stone--that is, their porosity. I have proved by actual
experiment that a cubic foot of Runcorn Stone will take up three
quarts of water by capillarity, and that it is possible to make a
syphon of solid sandstone which will empty a vessel of water into
another vessel by capillarity alone.[2] This shows the absolute
necessity of damp-proof courses, not only in the main walls of
buildings of stone, but even in fence walls, for the continual sucking
up of moisture from the earth, and its evaporation at the surface of
the stone, make it rapidly decay. I think I could show you this fact
in almost any stone building in Liverpool or elsewhere where the stone
is in direct connection with the earth. It also shows the necessity of
taking care that no stones go through the wall to the interior
surface, and of precautions for backing up stone walls with less
porous materials, or the introduction of a cavity. If you could
suppose such a sandstone wall 40 feet long, 20 feet high, and 1 foot 6
inches thick fully saturated, it would hold almost a ton of water! Of
course, it never would be fully saturated, because of the evaporation
from the surfaces, but with a southwest aspect, and very wet weather,
it might become half saturated. But what does evaporation mean? It
means the loss of so much heat and the burning of so much coal to
supply its place. From this it will be seen that a pure sandstone wall
is a thing to be avoided.
The subject is so wide a one that I have felt compelled to restrict my
remarks to local sandstones, but the general principles of structure
apply to all sandstones alike.
It is difficult by written description to tell you how to select a
good stone, but one essential is that there shall be a good deposition
of secondary quartz, as shown by the crystalline sparkling on the
freshly fractured surface.
It must also be free from very decided laminations, for these
constitute planes of weakness and are often indications of the
deposition of varying materials, or the same material in various
grades of fineness. It must also not be full of argillaceous and
iron-oxide infillings. It should possess a homogeneous texture. The
best way to study building stones is to study them in old buildings,
for nature has then dissected their weaknesses.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Read before the Liverpool Architectural Society, on the 18th
November, 1889, by Mr. T. Mellard Reade, F.S.G.S. _Fellow_,
President of the Society, and printed in the _R.I.B.A. Journal_.
[2] This experiment was made before the audience.--T. M. R.
* * * * *
WARFARE ON OAK TREES.--"The world seems to have waged a special
warfare upon oak trees," says a St. Louis man. "Before iron ships were
built, and that was only twelve years ago, oak was the only thing
used. When this drain ceased oak came into demand for furniture, and
it is almost as expensive now as black walnut. No one feels the
growing scarcity of oak like the tanner, and the substitution of all
sorts of chemical agencies leads up to the inquiry as to whether other
vegetable products cannot be found to fill the place of oak bark. The
wattle, a tree of Australian growth, has been found to contain from
twenty-six to thirty per cent of tannic acid. Experiments have been
made on the Pacific Slope, where the wattle readily grows, and in a
bath of liquor, acid was made from it in forty-seven days, whereas in
liquor made from Santa Cruz oak, the best to be found in all the
Pacific States, the time required is from seventy-five to eighty days.
The wattle will readily grow on the treeless plains of Texas, New
Mexico and Arizona, the bark of which ought to yield five dollars per
acre counting the fuel as nothing."--_Invention._
THE BARYE EXHIBITION.
[Illustration]
Entering the handsome galleries of the American Art Association, one
finds the lower floor given up to the Barye bronzes, while the upper
rooms are devoted to the "Angelus" and the paintings by Millet and
other contemporaries of the great French sculptor. Passing on the left
of the entrance the superb, large bronze of "Theseus battling with the
Centaur," one is fronted by the great cast of the "Lion and Serpent,"
which from the centre of the gallery dominates the surrounding
exhibits. Both of these are the property of the Metropolitan Museum of
Art, the cast having lately been presented to that institution by the
French government. Upon the right hangs Bonnat's vigorous portrait of
Barye, on the left wall one sees the water-color of the "Tiger Hunt,"
and all around are cases, groups and isolated pieces of the bronzes.
Here are over 450 works in wax, plaster and bronze, of which Mr. W. T.
Walters contributes one-fourth, while the Corcoran Gallery sends its
entire collection, numbering nearly a hundred, Mr. Cyrus J. Lawrence
loans sixty-two pieces, Mr. James F. Sutton fifty-two and Mr. Samuel
P. Avery thirty. Other contributors, who have followed their generous
example, are Messrs. R. Austin Robertson, Theodore K. Gibbs, Robert
and Richard M. Hoe, James S. Inglis, Richard M. Hunt and Albert
Spencer. Of many of the subjects there are several copies, and
amateurs can study proofs and patinas to their heart's content. From
Mr. Walters's famed collection are the four unique groups modelled for
the table of the Duke of Orleans, chief of which is the "Tiger Hunt,"
where two of the huge cats attack an elephant from whose back three
Indians defend themselves with courage. The giant pachyderm writhes
his serpent-like trunk in air and plunges forward open-mouthed,
trumpeting with pain from the keen claws of the tigers hanging on his
flanks. The Hunts of the Bull, the Bear and the Elk are worthy
companions of this magnificent bronze, offering wonderfully fine
examples of condensed composition in the entwined bodies of men and
beasts, and filling the eye with the grand sweeps of their circling
forms. The same liberal patron of art also lends his unique piece of a
walking lion, in silver, made in 1865 for a racing prize, and a
plaster-proof of the little medallion of "Milo of Crotona attacked by
a Lion," executed by Barye in 1819 for the Prix de Rome competition at
the École des Beaux-Arts. This little gem, worthy of the antique, did
not secure the prize, however, which went to a now-forgotten sculptor
named Vatinelle. It had often been so before, it has often been so
since down to our day (Comerre was preferred to Bastien Lepage in
1875) and doubtless it will be so for who knows how many years to
come.
All the phases of that terrific struggle for existence where beast
hunts beast, which have been depicted by Barye's genius, are here.
Here is the "Tiger devouring a Crocodile" (with which Barye made his
first appearance at the _Salon_, in 1831); the "Jaguar devouring a
Hare"; the "Lion devouring a Doe," the "Crocodile devouring an
Antelope," the "Python swallowing a Doe," the "Tiger devouring a
Gazelle," the "Bear on a tree devouring an Owl" and the "Lion
devouring a Boar." What a series of banquets on blood and warm, almost
living flesh is here presented! How cruel these creatures are to each
other, is the thought that first comes to us, but a second, reminds
that it is but their instinct and a necessity of natural law, and
repulsion is lost in astonishment and delight at the marvellous
fidelity with which the sculptor has rendered these links in the great
chain of animal life. Their (as we call it) savage eagerness, their
almost blind rage for their appointed food, the tenacity with which
they clutch and the ravening _anxiety_ (caused by the dread of losing
their prey) with which they tear the flesh of their victims, is
portrayed to the life. We speak of a death-grip, but here is a death
and life grip--death to the victim whose palpitating body furnishes
life to its destroyer. It is the hot-cold-bloodedness of nature, the
disregard for suffering of the tornado, the earthquake and the
avalanche shown in little in the fangs and claws of these wild
creatures. Then there are the battles of the more evenly-matched
animals--not always as a result of the need of sustenance--such are
the tiger transfixed by the elephant; the python's folds crushing the
crocodile; and the bear dragging the bull to earth, or itself, in
turn, overthrown by mastiffs. Then comes those groups into which man
enters--the African horseman surprised by a great serpent whose
formidable folds already enclose his struggling body; the Arabs
killing a lion; and the "Theseus overcoming the Minotaur," wherein the
calmly irresistible hero is about to bury his keen, short sword in the
bull-neck of the gross monster. The success with which Barye has
combined the human and bestial characteristics of the minotaur is most
remarkable and a similar triumph is won in the hippogriff--the winged
horse, with forefeet of claws and beaked nose, which leaps so swiftly
over the coiled-shape of the dolphin-serpent, which serves for his
pedestal--bearing upon his back the charming, nude figure of Angelica
held in the mail-clad arms of Ariosto's hero. To this category _seems_
to belong the "Ape riding a Gnu," the forms, however, being true to
nature though appearing fantastic when placed in juxtaposition.
The horse as we know him, and carrying more familiar burdens, is shown
in numerous equestrian statuettes, the best of which is the slender,
nervous figure of Bonaparte as First Consul, mounted on a
proudly-stepping Arab. There is another one of Napoleon, showing him
at a later period of his life, and the other equestrian portraits
include one of the Duke of Orleans, who looks every inch a gentleman;
one of Gaston de Foix, the hero of Ravenna; and one of Charles VII.
Then there is a spirited statuette of a Tartar warrior in chain armor
sharply pulling back his steed, and a graceful figure of a lady
wearing the riding-dress of 1830. A painful contrast is presented by
the doomed horse unwillingly carrying a lion whose dreadful grip his
frantic rearing cannot loosen. In addition there are many studies of
horses, various in breed and attitude, and the small wax model of a
young man mastering a horse which though but a rough "first sketch"
has all the "go and fire" possible. It would have been of interest if
some illustration of Barye's equestrian monument of Napoleon at
Ajaccio could have been shown, and this reminds me that except a
photograph of the Château d'Eau at Marseilles, showing the four groups
of animals designed by him (which Mr. Cyrus J. Lawrence was thoughtful
enough to send), and the two reclining river-gods from the Louvre
(sent by Mr. Walters), there is nothing which gives any idea of
Barye's public work. Not even photographs of the War, Order, Glory and
Peace groups of the Louvre, which could have easily been taken from
the copies given by Mr. Walters to Baltimore, now on Mount Vernon
Place, are present. But, in face of the admirable collection here
gathered together, this may savor of ingratitude, and I will return to
the consideration of the remaining sculptures.
Among them are some masterly pieces of decoration, the most important
being the superb candelabra made for the Duc de Montpensier. These
have seated at their base nude figures of the three chief goddesses of
classic mythology, whose noble proportions and purity of outline prove
the versatility and completeness of the sculptor's art. Juno is
accompanied by her peacock and bears the rod of power; Minerva lifts a
sword, and Venus holds the golden apple. The candelabra are further
enriched with masks and chimeras, and bear at their top a charming
circular group of the three graces, small undraped figures, with arms
entwined and faces turned toward each other. The general design and
exquisite detail of this work is worthy of the Renaissance. There are
some more candlesticks and other works of decorative art, all of which
bear the marks of a master-hand.
The humorous side of things is presented by some of the groups: in the
ungainly figure of the elephant of Senegal running; in the bear lying
on his back in a trough and eating with great gusto some sweet morsel
which he holds between his paws; and in the meditative stork standing
on the back of a turtle. Some of the animals are shown as sleeping or
reclining, and there is a cat sitting, a goat feeding, a deer
scratching its side and a pheasant walking, among others, but the
tragic note is struck in most of them. Probably the best works are to
be found among those pieces representing members of the feline race,
which were always the subject of Barye's most thorough study. The
sculptures of horses are also very numerous, and it strikes one at
first as curious that, after all the rebuffs he received from the
academic faction, who recognized no animals but the horse and lion as
worthy of representation in sculpture, he should have modelled so many
of these very creatures. But, after all, Barye's lions and horses
belong to an entirely different race from those which the
tradition-bound old fogies were pleased with. The collection embraces
many admirable bronzes of birds: an eagle holding a dead heron; an owl
with a rat; a paroquet on a tree, and a strikingly fine composition of
a hawk killing a heron; and there are some beautiful studies of dogs,
especially a large seated greyhound, belonging to Mr. Walters. There
are rabbits, badgers, wolves and camels, but I remember no cows or
pigs, and only one group of sheep. Wild life, much more than domestic,
touched the sympathies of Barye.
Mr. Walters loans twenty-three of Barye's powerful water-colors of
animals and a fine oil, of unusual size for this artist, of a tiger.
One of the most striking of the water-colors shows a great snake
swallowing an antelope, whose head is partly engulfed, and it is
almost exactly the same as one of the bronzes from the Walters
collection. Other gentlemen have contributed water-colors and
oil-paintings by Barye, among them being several landscapes at
Fontainebleau, and there are various etchings and prints after his
works and some of his lithographs, pencil-sketches and autographs,
with a copy of the only etching--a stag fighting a cougar--which,
according to so good an authority as Mr. Avery, he ever made. These
remarkable water-colors alone would suffice to show the genius of
Barye, for they are full of the same qualities of truth and
originality of expression which we see in his bronzes. Their color is
exceedingly fine, and their topics are generally tigers, lions,
elephants and serpents. It is a source of wonder how Barye, who never
visited the East, could have so well depicted the tropical landscapes
in which he has placed these tawny tigers and majestic lions. The
drawings, like the sculptures, impress us with their air of absolute
veracity, and, even in their most dramatic moments, suggest a
reticence behind. Barye does not exhaust himself or his subject, yet
he seems to have said the last word in this direction of art, and I
cannot imagine that his profound and searching genius will ever be
surpassed.