We do not know just when this term Gothic was first applied to the kind
of architecture it is used to designate. It was probably intended to
indicate something rude or barbaric in its features, but not that the
Goths themselves invented or practiced it. That uncultured, warlike
race knew little or nothing of architecture; but when, in the twelfth
century, there arose in the north countries of Europe a new style of
the art, those in the east and south, meaning to charge it with want of
refinement, called it Gothic. There is not now the slightest reproach in
the term, but rather the contrary. It won high, and for a time almost
universal appreciation among all lovers of art. If, as compared with
what went before, it is in a sense rude and wild, these very qualities
command respect and admiration. It became the favorite architecture of
the fourteenth century, reaching its highest state of development about
the first of the fifteenth.
We can but imperfectly note the changes that took place in this style
during its prevalence in England and other countries, for it had nearly
the same phases in many lands, though not quite simultaneously. Changes
were constantly made, both in language and architecture, that were not
radical or destructive. As the change from the rude Anglo-Saxon forms of
speech to the polished periods of Addison did not destroy the language,
neither did the progress and improvement of this style of architecture
change its identity.
Its characteristic features were maintained throughout. Some or all of
these, “boldness, naturalness, grotesqueness and redundancy,” are evident
in every stage, quite enough to vindicate its claim to be Gothic. Many
years before the Roman emperors had introduced into Europe something like
a universal architecture. The buildings of every Roman colony bore a
strong resemblance to those of every other colony and of the metropolis.
They were, in general, heavy in appearance, simple in structure, and had
all their arches semi-circular.
Just what led to a change so marked and general it is perhaps impossible
to tell. It was an age of much religious zeal; not always according
to knowledge. In England, France, Germany, Lombardy, and South Italy
many costly churches were demanded. A keen rivalry existed among the
builders of these churches; each must be larger and finer than previous
examples; and the details grew more elaborate. Architects of ability
applied themselves diligently. Difficulties of construction that had
seemed insuperable were overcome. The pointed arch was adopted, not
only as more beautiful, but because it could be successfully used in
important situations where the other was found impracticable. Whatever
was lacking in religious society of the age, grand and liberal ideas were
entertained as to the size and cost of churches; and architects had ample
encouragement to do their best. And they did, both in designing new, and
remodeling old buildings.
Mr. Smith says: “At the beginning of the twelfth century many local
peculiarities—some due to accident, some to the quality of the building
materials, and some to other causes, began to make their appearance in
the buildings in various parts of Europe; and through the whole Gothic
period they were met with; still the points of similarity were greater
and more numerous than the differences. So, when we have gone through the
course which the style ran in one country where it prevailed, we have
a general outline of the whole, and may omit to speak particularly of
them all without serious loss. On some grounds France would be the most
suitable to select for the purpose, as the new order appeared earlier
and had a more brilliant course in that country than in any other. But
the balance of advantage lies in selection of Great Britain. The various
phases the art has passed through in that country are well marked; and
even the American student, who can not visit the country, may acquire
some helpful information through engravings and photographs, that are
happily quite common.”
By far the most important specimens of Gothic architecture are the
cathedrals and large churches. They are more complete as works of art
than any other structures, and in all respects fit examples of pointed
architecture.
The ground plan of the Peterborough Cathedral is especially simple;
give a competent builder the order he is to follow, and he will need no
picture, the plan tells him the whole.
Cathedrals are all similarly located as to the points of compass, and the
principal entrance is in the west end. The one mentioned is about five
times as long as it is wide. The wall is relieved by a large transept,
the east wall of which begins about one third the distance from the east
end. This gives the building the form of a cross. The part from the west
end to the crossing of the transept is called the nave. The ends of the
transept extend about one-third of the width of the building. The nave
is flanked by avenues on each side, narrower and lower than itself,
called aisles. They are separated from it by a row of columns or piers,
connected by arches. Thus the nave has an arcade on each side, and each
aisle has an arcade on one side, and the outer wall pierced by windows
on the other. The strong arches of the arcade carry the walls that rise
above the roofs of the aisles. These walls are usually divided internally
into two stories. The lower story consists of a series of smaller arches,
forming a second arcade, called the triforium, that opens into the dark
space above the ceiling of the aisles, and is hence called the blind
story.
The upper story has a range of windows, giving light to the nave, and
is called the clere-story. Thus a spectator standing in the nave and
looking toward either side, will see before him the main arcade and side
windows, above the arcade the triforium, and above this the clere-story,
beautifully illuminated and crowned with the nave, vault or roof. The
great size and height give sublimity to the sight. The east arm of a
cathedral is that to which most importance is attached, and has greater
richness and more elaborate finish.
When the termination is semi-circular or polygonal it is called an apse
or apsidal east end. Attached to some of the side walls it is usual to
have a series of chapels, partially shut off from the main building, yet
of easy access.
Tombs and enclosures connected with them, called chantry chapels, are met
in various positions, especially in the eastern arm. Below the raised
floor of the choir there is a subterranean vaulted structure called the
crypt.
Passing to the exterior, the principal doorway is in the west front,
deeply recessed, and elaborate in design. There are also doors in both
ends of the transept, and one or more side entrances. In a complete
cathedral the grand architectural effect is principally due to the towers
with which it is adorned, the most massive standing at the crossing of
the transept.
To cathedrals and abbey-churches a group of monastic buildings was
attached; sometimes very expensive and in the best style of the art.
The most important of these is the Chapter House, which is frequently
lofty and highly ornamented. The extent and arrangement of the monastic
buildings adjoining the cloister vary with the needs of the different
order of monks. The monk’s dormitory was on the east side of the great
cloister, the refectory and kitchen on the south, and on the west the
great cellar, and a hospitum for the entertainment of guests.
The house for the abbot, the infirmary, the school building for novices,
with its chapel, and more remotely the granaries, mills, bake-houses,
offices, garden, cemetery—taken all together, a monastery shows an
extensive group of buildings well arranged for the purposes intended.
Some military and domestic buildings are also of great interest. In those
centuries dwellings of much consequence were all more or less fortified.
Some were built with a lofty square tower, called a “keep,” and capable
of standing an assault or a siege. The number and character of the
buildings in the enclosure around the keep of course depended on the
ability of the proprietor. The outer buildings of the Tower of London,
though much modernized, give a good idea of what a first-class castle
grew, by successive additions, to be. In those erected near the close
of the thirteenth century, the square tower was abandoned, and better
provision made for the comfort and convenience of the occupants.
Warwick Castle might be cited as a good example of an English castelated
mansion, of the time of Richard II. But still more interesting is Haddon
Hall, the residence of the Duke of Rutland, in Derbyshire. It consists of
two internal quadrangles separated by the great hall, with its dais, its
minstrel’s gallery, its vast open fire-place, and its traceried windows.
Probably nowhere in England can the growth of domestic architecture be
better studied, whether we look to the alterations which took place in
arrangement, or to changes in the treatment of windows, battlements,
doorways, and other features, than at Haddon Hall.
English Gothic architecture has generally been divided into three
periods: The Early, the Decorated, and the Perpendicular. The following
condensed list of the peculiarities of each period will be found useful
for reference. Early English: General proportions more slender, and
height of walls and columns greater; arches pointed, generally lancet,
often richly moulded; triforium and arcades often with trifoiled
heads. Piers were more slender, composed of a central shaft surrounded
by several smaller ones almost or quite detached; capitals concave
in outline, moulded or carved with conventional foliage, delicately
executed. The windows were at first long, narrow, and deeply splayed
internally, the glass being within a few inches of the outer face of
the wall; later in style more acute, divided by mullions, enriched with
cuspated circles in the head, and often with three or more lights—the
center lights being the highest. Doorways were deeply recessed, enriched
with slender shafts and elaborate mouldings. Buttresses were about equal
in projection to their width, with but one set off, or without any. The
mouldings were bold and deeply undercut.
In the Decorative style the proportions were less lofty, the arches
mostly enclosing an equilateral triangle; mouldings bold, finely
proportioned, and often ornamented with ball, flower, foliage of ivy,
oak, and vine leaves, the execution being natural and beautiful.
The Perpendicular or Tudor style had walls profusely decorated with
paintings, parapets embattled, and paneled; open timber roofs of moderate
pitch, but of elaborate construction, having hammer beams, the moulded
timbers often richly ornamented with pierced tracery, and carved figures
of angels.
Ornamental materials of all kinds, such as mosaic, enamel, metal-work,
and inlays were freely employed; but the crowning invention of Gothic
artists, which contributed largely to the architectural effect of
their finest buildings, was _stained glass_. So much of the old glass
has perished, and so much of the new is not even passable, that this
praise may seem extravagant to those who have never seen any of the
best specimens that still exist. In the choir at Canterbury there is a
remnant of the best glass in England, and some good fragments remain at
Westminster, but to judge of glass at its best, the student must visit
La Sainte Chapelle, of Paris, or the cathedrals at Chartres, Bourges or
Rheims, when effects in colors are gorgeous in their richness, brilliancy
and harmony. Fresco painting may claim a sort of brightness, and mosaics,
when executed in polished materials, have some brilliancy, but in stained
glass the light which comes streaming through the window itself gives
evidence, while the quality of the glass determines the colors, and we
thus obtain a glowing luster which can only be compared to the beauty of
the richest gems.
Color was freely introduced both by the employment of colored materials
and by painting the interior with colored pigments. Painted decorations
were constantly made use of with the happiest effect.
Sculpture is the noblest ornament, and the Gothic architects, of a later
day, seem to have been alive to its use, as in all their best works
statues abounded. If sometimes uncouth, they always contributed to the
effect intended. Whether rising to grace and grandeur or sinking to
grotesque ugliness, they had a picturesque power, and added life to the
whole. Monsters gaped and grinned from waterspouts; little figures of
strange animals twisted in and out of the foliage at angles and corbels;
stately effigies occupied dignified niches, and in the head of a doorway
there was often carved a whole host of figures representing heaven,
earth, and hell, with a rude force and eloquence that, to the present
day, has not lost its power.