Chapter V: Naturalistic

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.