early Christian Collegia of Rome, as we see by the “plutei” in S.
Clementi and S. Agnes, and on the door of a chapel in S. Prassede
(Rome), and through these early Christian Collegia of builders it was
transmitted to their successors, the Lombardic Comacine schools.
Leader Scott remarks that after the eleventh century the interlaced
work, or Solomon’s Knot, generally ceased to be the sign of Comacine
work, and the ancient sign or seal of the great Guild after this date
was commonly replaced by the “Lion of the tribe of Judah.” There was
scarcely a church after this date built by the Comacine Guild of
Masons, in which this “Lion of Judah” was not prominent.
[Illustration: “Solomon’s Knot,” composed of one strand. S. Ambrogio,
Milan.]
THE CAMPANILE OR BELL TOWER
It is to the Comacine builders of Lombardy that the Bell Towers,
afterwards so great a church feature in the Middle Ages, are owing.
Italy is rightly styled the birthplace of the Campaniles forming part
of the structure of a church, or rising close beside it. So these
Lombardic Campanile Towers were the ancestors, so to speak, of the
innumerable Bell Towers and steeples of the West, erected in the Middle
Ages.
The majestic Bell Tower, or Campanile of San Satiro at Milan, Rivoira
considers to have been the oldest example of such a structure. The
date of its erection was A.D. 876. The Campanile Towers of the ancient
churches of Ravenna, such as the Towers of Sant Apollinare Nuovo,
of Sant Apollinare in Classe, of San Giovanni Evangelista, must be
ascribed to a date much later than the original churches themselves.
The great Ravennese churches were built in the fifth and sixth
centuries; their Campanile Towers were only erected in the ninth and
tenth centuries.
The liturgical use of Bells can be traced as far back as the fifth
century. For the first three hundred years of the Christian era the
naturally secret and private exercise of the religion of Jesus of
course forbade any outward and visible sign of Christian gatherings,
such as the noise of bells. In Italy and the West the size and tone of
church bells became gradually more and more marked. Hence the Lombardic
invention, it may fairly be termed, of the important Bell Tower or
Campanile as a distinct feature in church building. The ninth century,
as we have stated, is probably the date of the first appearance of
these remarkable Campaniles.
In the near East, the use of church bells at all seems to have been
unknown before the ninth century; the first time we hear of them in
the East was late in that century, when a present of bells was sent to
the Emperor Basil in Constantinople by the Venetian Republic--and
even then, for some time, they were but little used, for as late as
A.D. 1200 the great Basilica of S. Sophia at Constantinople was without
them. In Syria they were not introduced before the end of the eleventh
century; they were no doubt brought into Eastern lands by the Crusaders
after the fall of Jerusalem.
[Illustration: S. Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna. Sixth Century. Showing
Campanile added in Tenth Century.]
In the few examples of early churches which can be quoted as possessing
one or two smaller towers, as was probably the case in certain of the
important early Ravennese Basilicas, notably in San Vitale, such small
towers were not intended for bells, but simply contained staircases.
Viollet le Duc in his long and exhaustive article on “Cloches”
especially calls attention to the fact that in the eleventh century
Normandy was remarkable for the number and dimensions of its church
bells and bell towers; but the famous French writer and scholar does
not seem aware of the reason for this marked feature in their churches.
They were evidently part of the Lombardic tradition brought into
Normandy by the great church builder William of Volpiano, the pupil
of the Lombard Comacine architects, the story of whose coming into
Normandy at the invitation of Duke Richard le Bon has been related in
detail above.
[Illustration: S. VITALE, RAVENNA.
Circa A.D. 526-547.]
ON BELLS
The Bell, however, was not unknown to the Greeks and Romans, but in
those far-back times it seems to have been, comparatively speaking, of
small dimensions.
Durandus, Bishop of Mende (Mimatensis), Languedoc, thirteenth
century--the great liturgical writer of the Middle Ages--in his
_Rationale Divinorum Officiorum_, has several pages devoted to the
symbolism of bells, much of which is most curious and interesting,
though, as usual with this learned writer, often not a little
fanciful. For instance, he tells us how he looks on bells as symbols
of preachers, who, after the manner of bells, are appointed to remind
the faithful of the “Faith.” The clapper, he says, represents the
preacher’s tongue, the wooden beam to which the bell is hung typifies
the Cross of our Lord.
Durandus considers that the bell was first invented at Nola, a city of
Campania, whence came the terms “Campanæ” for the larger bells, and
“Nolæ” for the smaller. Various other writers have adopted this curious
derivation, amongst others S. Anselm. But this must be considered
fanciful.
During the first three centuries, naturally bells would be unused in
Christian churches; as we have stated, quiet and privacy of worship
being in the ages of persecution, for all assemblies for Christian
worship, an indispensable condition.
They were, however, certainly used before the seventh century; there is
a tradition that Pope Sabinianus, A.D. 604, directed that a bell shall
be rung to give notice of the hours of the “offices.” Bells are alluded
to in the Rule of S. Benedict. Bede mentions them in England in the
eighth century.
But it was not until the period of the great revival of religion in
the eleventh century that the bell began to assume the position of
importance in the furniture of a church which we find it occupying in
the Middle Ages. The size of the bell gradually increased, and the care
bestowed on its casting became greater as the twelfth century advanced.
In the eleventh century we read, for instance, of a bell then
remarkable for its size, being presented to the Church of S. Agnan at
Orleans by King Robert of France. This bell, probably the largest then
known, weighed as much as 2,600 pounds.
As the Middle Ages advanced, the vogue of bells in churches became more
pronounced. There were few parish churches but possessed one or two
bells, or even more, while the abbeys and cathedrals continued to erect
towers to hang bells of various sizes and powers.
In the thirteenth century we find notices of bells of very considerable
size and importance. It was not, however, until the fifteenth century
that the bell attained to the vast dimensions we are accustomed to
associate with the more considerable of these popular and well-loved
instruments of music.
Gloucester Cathedral is singularly fortunate in the possession of some
very ancient bells of rare sweetness and power; one of these, “Great
Peter,” being of considerable size and importance.
This great mediæval bell has now bidden the citizens to prayer for
several hundred years.
Various ornaments, usually of a sacred character, were engraved on the
mediæval bells. More interesting, though, are the inscriptions, which
not unfrequently run round the bell.
The size, however, of the famous Great Peter in Gloucester Cathedral is
not comparable with other of the more celebrated bells now in use in
various parts of the world--as will be seen from the following table
setting forth the enormous weight of many of these great bells.
The largest of these--the Tsar Kolokol of Moscow--said to weigh
440,000 pounds, was never rung. It was broken apparently in the
casting--and is now used as a chapel.
Moscow, however, still boasts what probably is the greatest bell in the
world; its weight is 128 tons.
Of the other huge bells, we would enumerate--
_Weight._
The bell in the Kioto monastery in Japan 76 tons.
The Kaiser bell in the Cathedral of Cologne 25 ”
The chief bell in Notre Dame, Paris 17 ”
Big Ben in the Parliament Houses, London 13 ”
Amiens Cathedral--Its principal bell 11 ”
Great Tom, Oxford 7 ”
DATES
A few important approximate dates are given to illustrate this sketch
of Romanesque Architecture: The round-arch style. At Ravenna--then
among the Lombards--the Rise of the Lombardic-Norman school of
Romanesque builders, and the evolution of Gothic architecture.
_circa_ A.D.
The {_Diocletian_--Palace at Spalatro 300-305
glory {_Honorius_--Emperor of the West 393-423
of {_Galla Placidia_--(half-sister of Honorius) 408-451
Ravenna {_Theodoric_--the Ostrogothic king of Italy 493-526
{_Justinian_--Emperor of the East 527-565
{_Alboin_--The Lombard Conqueror 568
Lombardy {_Rotharis_--The Lombard King. His code
{ referring to privileges of Comacine
{ builders. 636-652
_Charlemagne_--Emperor. His conquest of
Lombardy. His Palace-chapel of Aachen 796-804
Pupil of
Comacine {_William of Volpiano_--Monk of Cluny.
builders { Invited by Duke Richard to Normandy 961-1031
_Lanfranc of Bec_--First Norman archbishop
of Canterbury. His works in Normandy
and England 1086
Rise and Progress in England of the
_Norman-Lombardic_ style
Eleventh century (last part),
twelfth century.
The “Coming” and “Rise” of the _Gothic_
style
Roughly in the second part of
the twelfth century. Its rapid
and general adoption in the
thirteenth century.
PASSING OF ROMANESQUE
We only propose to give a very short summary here; all we shall do is
to just sketch in a few memoranda which will throw light on the reasons
for the extraordinarily rapid transition from Romanesque to Gothic.
The early years of the twelfth century witnessed what we have termed
the perfected Romanesque style; the closing years of the same twelfth
century witnessed “the passing” of Romanesque (the round-arch mode) and
the almost universal substitution of a new style, generally known as
Gothic.
* * * * *
And first:--the term “Gothic,” now everywhere adopted as the expression
for that school of architecture which prevailed throughout the
countries of Northern Europe for some four centuries is a curious
misnomer.
The term “Gothic,” which was used certainly before the seventeenth
century, belongs to the Renaissance period, and was in the first
instance, strangely enough, regarded as a term of opprobrium.
Those who invented it were quite clear as to what they intended
by the expression. They meant it was something barbarous, because
non-classical; some believed it was actually invented by the Goths
who overthrew the Roman Empire. Evelyn, for instance, writes, that
“the ancient Greek and Roman architecture answered all the perfections
required in a faultless and accomplished building, and that the Goths
and Vandals demolished these, and introduced in their stead a certain
fantastical manner of building, congestions of heavy, dark, melancholy
monkish piles, without any just proportion, use or beauty.”[17]
But in time, men came to recognise the glory of what the Renaissance
devotees at first scoffed at; but the old term of opprobrium, “Gothic,”
remained; and now is universally used to express that splendid school
of mediæval architecture which arose out of Romanesque and prevailed
for so long a period; the beauty and fitness of which, perhaps somewhat
tardily, all the Northern nations have come to recognise with an
ungrudging, at times possibly even with an exaggerated admiration.
After all, the leading writers on architecture have come to the
conclusion that, different though the Gothic schools are to the
Romanesque, they are but one style--_Gothic is simply perfected
Romanesque_. “L’architecture Gothique n’est que la perfectionnement
de celle qu’on appelle Romane,” wrote Enlart. Gothic, as Mr. Bond
expresses it, “has not supplanted Romanesque, but is its supreme
result, the last stage in its development, its apogee, consummation and
accomplishment.” So, too, De Lasterie defines “Gothic.”
To sum up certain of the new principles of Gothic architecture. The
walls of the Gothic buildings became much slighter--thinner; these
walls no longer acted as the thrusts which counteracted the weight of
the stone vaults which had become gradually more generally used even
in Romanesque buildings, but the weight or thrusts of these stone
vaults were stopped by buttresses. In other words, Gothic architecture
has been with some justice defined as the art of erecting buttressed
buildings.
The principal outward and visible sign of Gothic architecture,
however, was the _pointed arch_. This novel feature, and much of the
ornamentation which was rapidly introduced, no doubt came from the
East, and must be referred largely to the influence of the _Crusades_;
it was, no doubt, borrowed through acquaintance with Saracenic work in
Egypt and Syria. These strange Crusading wars had opened a new world of
Art to the Western nations.
The pointed arch was no new feature in the East. As early as A.D. 879
the great Mosque of Tulun had pointed arcades. The principal gateway
of the palace of Ctesiphon (fifth century) is pointed. The pointed
arch appears in the great aqueduct near Constantinople of the time of
Justinian. In many districts in the East it had been for centuries as
much the normal form as the round-arch in Europe.
But other outward and visible signs characterised Gothic architecture,
which supplanted Romanesque.
Gothic windows became much larger; there was a desire to obtain
more light in the churches than had been possible to obtain through
the smaller Romanesque windows. These were necessarily small and
comparatively inconspicuous for two reasons: the one was, the
Romanesque builders trusted, as we have seen, to the vast thickness of
their walls to counteract the weight or thrust of the roofs and the
upper portions of the buildings, and dreaded any unnecessary weakening
of these massive walls by the introduction of large windows.
The other main reason for the smallness of the Romanesque windows was
the preciousness and cost of glass in the tenth, the eleventh, and
preceding centuries. Glass in the second half of the twelfth century
became a much cheaper and less costly material. Then, too, the rapid
progress in the art of stained and painted glass in that same century
demanded for the display of this new and beautiful art, larger and ever
larger windows. The artists in glass painting were no longer content
with the small and cramped Romanesque windows, and the general passion
for painted glass at once compelled the builders to devise without
delay larger spaces in the walls for the display and exercise of the
art.
The new large Gothic windows became at once a conspicuous and
distinctive feature in the new school. The general introduction of the
buttress feature superseded the necessity of depending on the thickness
and massiveness of the walls, thus permitting the larger openings that
are required for the larger Gothic windows.
* * * * *
The pointed arch brought in its train many novel decorations as well
as new constructive features. A new system of mouldings and other
ornaments was gradually worked out in the last quarter of the twelfth
and even in the earlier years of the thirteenth century.
The massive piers of Romanesque architecture were exchanged for
clustered pillars, detached or banded, and crowned with elaborate
capitals.
But perhaps one of the most conspicuous changes in the new style was,
after all, the beautiful and elaborate tracery which supported and
adorned the new windows, ever increasing in size and importance. The
old Romanesque windows, small and inconspicuous, were supplanted by the
great windows which soon distinguished the new Gothic school, and these
windows soon became what is termed traceried windows. The necessary
supports of these, known as transoms and mullions, were worked into new
and beautiful forms, usually called “Decorated Tracery”; these were
divided into geometrical, curvilinear, or flowing tracery, but we avoid
in this very short sketch of “Gothic” such technical terms, and simply
call attention to certain of the new important features here, which
mark the substitution of Gothic for Romanesque form--and term them
generally _traceried windows_.
Later, in England, the more elaborate earlier window tracery was
abandoned, and the simpler rectilinear tracery was generally adopted,
and a new style of Gothic, known as the “Perpendicular,” became the
vogue in our Island.
* * * * *
On reading over the above brief notes on Gothic Architecture, the
writer, while conscious that the few details above given were, as
far as they went, strictly accurate--felt that something more was
wanting--if only a few words--which might suggest that there was a
deep inner meaning in Gothic architecture. To express this, some
reference must be made to France and the great French church builders;
for France--especially the “Domaine Royale”--l’Ile de France--was the
native country, the original home of the Gothic school.
The early French Gothic masters in the craft looked upon the building
of churches as the most serious of arts, and, as it has been well
expressed, the churches they planned were to be “the centre of the
life of men, and compared with them, man himself and all his worldly
affairs was counted as nothing; their purpose was to provide a place of
worship, when worship was held to be the highest function of men, and
the problem they set themselves to solve was to make a place worthy of
the God to be worshipped.”
The same lofty purpose without doubt inspired the Gothic masters in
England and other western countries, though their designs somewhat
differed from the great French architects on whose methods and planning
we are just now dwelling, as presenting in some respects a marked
contrast with the methods and planning of the English Gothic architects.
Now, a most prominent characteristic feature of the grand Gothic
cathedrals of France was their exceeding height; to attain this no
sacrifice was too great. It has been accurately remarked that the
matchless sublimity of the interior of a noble French Cathedral was
purchased at the sacrifice of the exterior. And the architects, as
time went on, made their churches higher and ever higher.
Again, to quote another’s words:[18] “The interior sublimity of a
French cathedral seems to be a triumphant defiance of the attraction
of gravity. We know that the slender shafts that soar so straight
and high, could not support the vault; but _outside_ there is no
concealment of the manner in which it is upheld. Indeed the outside,
for all its beauty, is _the wrong side_ of a French cathedral, and is,
as it were, a mass of permanent scaffolding to keep all the stones of
the interior in their places ... and it is, and it looks a complex mass
of straining effort, as the interior looks an effortless miracle.” The
innumerable flying buttresses carrying the thrust of the lofty vault
to the huge buttresses of the aisles, and so to the ground, have been
somewhat quaintly termed “walls standing in slices at right angles to
the building which they support but do not enclose, seeming to push and
thrust with all their power to keep up the enormous height; all this is
very wonderful and beautiful, but it leaves a sense of constant effort
to overcome difficulties.”
“What a difference is there in the peace of the long low English
cathedral with its insignificant buttresses and unambitious lines ...
and, except for the upward pointing of its central tower or spire,
seemingly content to remain on earth.”[19]
One of the chief beauties of the Choir of Gloucester is its
exceptional “soaring” height, which in common with Westminster Abbey
and York, follows the example of the great French cathedrals, though
at a great distance, it must be confessed, from the lofty height aimed
at and attained in such churches as the Cathedrals of Bourges and
Chartres, Amiens, Notre Dame of Paris and Beauvais.
Again, each of the sublime interiors of the Gothic cathedrals of France
were, as a rule, the design of one mind--and that of a master-mind.
They have been roughly but not inaccurately described as “all of a
piece,” as the result of one great effort. “These glorious interiors,
each possessing a wonderful unity or harmony, the result of a great and
original idea conceived and carried out throughout by one individual
genius. For most of the mighty cathedrals in France show a closely
reasoned design, and the result presents a marvellous temple for
worship.
“Very different indeed are the English Gothic cathedrals; we see
here no continuous design, no single idea; we are sensible of no one
mighty impulse which in France, sweeping ruthlessly away all that had
gone before, planned to raise a building complete and harmonious all
through.”
For the English builders, on the other hand, preserved all that had
gone before, however imperfect in their eyes, and added here, and
changed there, content to suffice for the needs and ideas of the
present, “with no sign of anxious ambition for the future; incapable
of perfection, because began and ended incessantly, and always
without continuous design, yet breathing out an indescribable charm
of sympathy almost human in its loving reverence for the results of
all past human effort.” Gloucester Cathedral is an admirable example
of this loving conservative spirit; with its massive _Romanesque_
Nave, its “_decorated_” South Aisle, its superb aery _Perpendicular_
Choir, partly veiling, it is true, but not destroying the work of
bygone Norman builders; its graceful and exquisite Perpendicular Lady
Chapel--the last addition to this great pile--being perfectly different
to any other part of the cathedral.
* * * * *
The Gothic builders of France believed, that in raising the interior
of their cathedrals to that wonderful height on which successive
generations have gazed with awe and admiration, they had found
something of the secret of inspiring the worshippers with the feeling
that they were indeed worshipping in a Holy House almost worthy of
the God they sought; nor were they content with their earlier noble
efforts, but kept making their soaring churches, as they built them,
higher and ever higher.
The climax of this strain and restless striving was reached in the
middle of the thirteenth century, when Eudes de Montreuil, the
architect of S. Louis, designed the “splendid folly,” as men love to
style it, of Beauvais; there a choir was built higher than any in the
world, and with the slenderest support that had ever yet been seen.
It was finished in about thirty years, and twelve years later the vault
fell, making a ruin of the whole church, _circa_ A.D. 1284. This superb
choir--for the nave was never built--can still be seen and wondered at;
the ruin has been skilfully and cleverly repaired, and new supports
have been devised, and though the original design is sadly marred and
altered, it tells us of that master-mind “who, greatly daring, had
planned the mighty structure complete and harmonious, the absolute
expression of an ideal of future perfection, but forced to remain
incomplete at the last, for the architect longed for the impossible.”
True artist, in spite of his failure, for he aimed at expressing a
something higher than himself, which should draw up in sympathy with
him all that was best and noblest in those around him. “But Beauvais
was a structural impossibility, and the ideal of Beauvais was beyond
his reach, and the mighty remains of its solitary choir tells a story
of mistaken enterprise and wasted heroism.” It is truly a dream of
heaven--but alas! it is only a dream.
THE TRIFORIUM
The question is often asked by a stranger, as he wanders through an
English cathedral, wondering at the size and striking appearance of the
great Triforium or Gallery--for instance, the immense Triforium in the
Choir of Gloucester. What is the meaning and use of this vast gallery?
Has it any story or tradition attached to it?