Chapter I: Part 1

LECTURES

ON

THE RISE AND DEVELOPMENT

OF

MEDIÆVAL ARCHITECTURE

_The restoration of the Vescica Piscis is taken from a print in the
British Museum, dated 1730._]

LECTURES

ON THE

RISE AND DEVELOPMENT

OF

Mediæval Architecture

Delivered at the Royal Academy

BY SIR GILBERT SCOTT, R.A.,
F.S.A., LL.D., ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES--VOL. I.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET
1879

_The right of Translation is reserved._

_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, _Edinburgh_.

PREFACE.

Only half of the following Lectures were delivered by me, as the _Professor of Architecture_, at the Royal Academy. The first seven were delivered while Professor Cockerell held the Chair; but, owing to his infirm state of health, I being then an Associate, was, in conjunction with Mr. Smirke, called in to relieve him of this duty. The eighth and ninth Lectures were prepared six years later, after Mr. Smirke had retired, and those which follow, when I had succeeded him in the Professorship.

The Lectures are naturally somewhat disconnected; and having been written both at various times and for audiences often changing, may be found in some instances to repeat the same facts and ideas, for which, as well as for too great a prolixity of style, I beg to apologise.

They were written with much zeal; and, thanks to my staff, and to my pupils, my sons, and others, they were magnificently and profusely illustrated; more so, perhaps, than any such Lectures had ever been before.

They have lain long in abeyance; but it seemed to me, that “for better for worse,” and notwithstanding the lapse of time, they ought to be published, and Mr. Murray has most kindly undertaken to do this for me.

In correcting them for the press, I have made only verbal alterations, or corrected accidental errors, or omitted a few harsh expressions. Where I wished to amplify, I have done so by notes. The illustrations have been mainly drawn by my friend and assistant, Mr. W. S. Weatherley, chiefly from those exhibited when the Lectures were delivered, with additions from my more recent sketches, and will be found to contribute largely to the elucidation of the text.

GEO. GILBERT SCOTT.

LONDON, _February 1878_.

* * * * *

_At the time of the sudden and deplorable death of Sir Gilbert
Scott in March last, more than 200 illustrations had been made and
engraved. The remaining ones are completed in conformity with his
marginal directions._

_Many of these were prepared by me for the Lectures ten years ago,
and all have been compared with Sir Gilbert’s sketches, with the
diagrams in the MSS., and redrawn. The engraving is by “Leitch’s
photographic process.”_

_Some valuable woodcuts, lent by permission of Mr. Fergusson and
Mr. Murray, have also been inserted among the letterpress._

W. SAMᴸ. WEATHERLEY.

20 COCKSPUR STREET,

LONDON, S.W.

CONTENTS.

VOL. I.

LECTURE I.

The Claims of Mediæval Architecture upon our Study.

Introduction--Art follows the course of civilisation--Three _primâ facie_ claims Gothic Architecture has upon Study--Additional claim, that it is Christian Architecture--Objections to the title--Explanations of the term--Byzantine the earliest Christian style--Summary of the Historical claims of Mediæval Architecture--Its intrinsic claims--Abstract beauty--Advantages of an arcuated over a trabeated style--Facility in decorating construction, and in converting structural features into elements of beauty--Adaptability to varied climates--Unites all arts in one--Painted glass--Sculpture--Foliated sculpture--Gothic Architecture suited to the severest and most elegant styles--Beauty of external outline--Delicacy of mouldings--Religious solemnity of the interior of its temples--The spirit with which the study of Mediæval Architecture should be undertaken--How to be pursued--Practical objects for which it should be followed up Page 1

LECTURE II.

Sketch of the Rise of Mediæval Architecture.

Anomalous state of things in Western Europe after the destruction of the Roman Empire--Art almost extinct--Saved by the Western Church and the Eastern Empire--Architectural elements of the new races--Charlemagne’s attempts to revive art--Primitive art in England and the north of France--Dawn of better things--Architecture of the tenth century--Schools of art and science--Bishop Bernward’s works--Origin of early styles in France and Germany--Early architecture of Rome--The arcuated and the trabeated systems--Development of Romanesque--Its leading characteristics--Romanesque and Pointed architecture not TWO styles, but ONE--Barrel vaults--Groined vaults--Oblong bays--Main arches of groined vaulting changed from the semicircle to the pointed arch--Flying buttresses--Groin ribs--The pointed arch arose from statical not geometrical or æsthetical motives--Wall ribs remain round long after the wider arches become pointed--Two modes adopted to avoid the difficulty of oblong groining over naves--Sexpartite vaulting Page 37

LECTURE III.

The Transition.

Gradual refinement of Romanesque--French architects the earliest to systematise the pointed arch--The English before the Germans--The Italians from the Germans--Fully acknowledged in France 1140--Suger’s work at St. Denis--Carving in French churches--Corinthianesque outline of capitals--Distinctly Byzantine capitals--A route by which Byzantine foliage may have reached France--The importation indisputable--Its effects seen in Early English capitals--West front of Chartres--Fluting on basement of doorways--Cathedral of Noyon--St. Germain des Pres, Paris--Cathedral of Sens, prototype of the Choir and Trinity Chapel at Canterbury--Nôtre Dame, Paris--A new kind of foliage--The capital “à crochet”--English transition--Incipient specimens--Refined Norman--Pointed style, with reminiscences of Romanesque--William of Sens--William the Englishman--Influence of French work--Oakham Castle--Glastonbury Abbey--Cathedral of St. David’s--Temple Church, London--Chichester Cathedral--Tynemouth Abbey--Hexham Abbey--Unfoliated capitals--Round moulded capitals--Characteristics of English and French transition--The German transition--Practical lessons from studying these changes--Principles to which the transition was pioneer Page 69

LECTURE IV.

The Thirteenth Century.

Mediæval architecture usually classified under heads of centuries--Actual points of change do not coincide with these divisions--Auspices for the development of the Early Pointed style--Great works in England and France--Artistic disturbance in Germany--Progress in Italy--Energy pervades every branch of art--Perfected Early Pointed a natural growth from Romanesque--Leading characteristics--Columns--Bases of Columns--Capitals--Plan of the abacus--Circular plan--Whence this arose--Moulded capitals--Windows--Bases of buildings--Cornices and foliated bands--Doorways--French and English compared Page 137

LECTURE V.

The Thirteenth Century--_continued_.

St. Saviour’s, Southwark--Choir of Temple Church, London--Chapel at Lambeth--Westminster Abbey--Its Italian mosaic work, monuments, and ancient reredos--Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Holborn--St. Alban’s Abbey--Priory Church, Dunstable--Stone Church near Gravesend--Waltham Cross--Jesus Chapel, Cambridge--Ely and Peterborough Cathedrals--Warmington Church--West Walton Abbey--Crowland Abbey--St. Mary’s and All Saints, Stamford--Ketton, Grantham, and Frampton Churches--Lincoln Cathedral--Southwell Minster--Newstead Abbey--York Cathedral--St. Mary’s Abbey, and St. Leonard’s Hospital, York--Skelton Church--Beverley and Ripon Minsters--Fountains, Rivaulx, Whitby, Kirkham, and Guisborough Abbeys--Chapel of the Nine Altars, Durham--Hexham and Dryburgh Abbeys--Chapel of Holyrood--Elgin and Glasgow Cathedrals--Furness Abbey--Southern examples--Most great churches in France vaulted, not so in England--Universal excellence of workmanship from 1175 to 1400--Domestic architecture of France, Germany, Italy, and England--Influence of thirteenth century work on our artistic practice Page 170

LECTURE VI.

The Rationale of Gothic Architecture.

Contradictory opinions as to the character and origin of Gothic Architecture--True causes of its origin--The arch--The Romans eminently practical--Two defects in their architecture--Practical improvements--Use of small materials--Arches in rims--Sub-ordinating rims--Imposts--Pilaster capitals--Decorative columns--Romanesque arch decorations--Labels--Clustered columns--Weight of arches on columns--Doorways--Windows--Rejection of ancient rules of proportion--Efforts to improve construction and decoration in the twelfth century--Absolute demand for an arch of less pressure and for an abutment of greater resistance--_Ribbed_ as distinguished from _arris_ vaulting--Reasons for adopting the former--Pointed arch as effecting proportion Page 215

LECTURE VII.

The Rationale of Gothic Architecture--_continued_.

The bases of a thirteenth century church indicate the plan and construction of the vaulting--The system of mouldings--Windows, their development--Rationale of stained glass--A general principle of ornamentation common to all good architecture--The roof--Secular buildings--Cloth market Yprès--Warehouses, Nuremburg--Windows in secular and ecclesiastical buildings--Trabeated architecture in its truest forms--Fireplaces--Chimney-shafts--Oriel and Dormer windows--Ceilings--Subordination of external design to internal requirements--Designs adapted to the materials most readily obtained--Conditions demanded of our future architecture--Gothic architecture well fitted to unite these conditions Page 246

A Digression concerning Windows Page 276

LECTURE VIII.

On the Practical Study of Gothic Architecture.

Evident ignorance or neglect of those who practise Gothic architecture--Faithfulness of others--The styles should be learned from ancient buildings--Our knowledge to be continually revived and added to--Hints to students--The study of Lincoln Cathedral, Canterbury Cathedral, and examples in London--Libraries and museums in London--Foreign travel--Examples in Paris, and other parts of France--Germany, Italy, Spain, etc. etc. Page 290

LECTURE IX.

On the Study and Practice of Gothic Architecture.

Every-day business and practical work to go on _hand in hand_ with the study of ancient buildings--How best to be accomplished--The study _from books_--Artistic and archæological portions cannot be wholly disconnected--Heraldry--A knowledge of the history of art absolutely necessary for the study of Mediæval architecture--Greek art the parent of Gothic sculpture--Ruined cities of Central Syria--Mahometan styles--Our own form of church the direct inheritance from the earliest Christian temples--Training _as artists_--Choice among specimens of different Mediæval periods and styles--Examples especially recommended--Practical studies of ancient buildings in connection with their _structural_ and _mechanical_ qualities--Vaulting--Timber-work--Stone-work, etc. etc.--The _actual practice_ of Mediæval architecture--The _repairs_ and _restoration_ of ancient buildings Page 331

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

CONTAINED IN VOL. I.

FIG.

Ely Cathedral. Western Porch _Frontispiece._

PAGE

1-14. Diagrams explanatory of the various systems of Romanesque Vaulting 52-63

15. St. Denis. Interior of one of the Apsidal Chapels 78

16. Do. Exterior of do. 79

17. Do. Part of Capital from do. 79

18. Greek. Acanthus, from the Choragic Monument to Lysicrates, Athens 81

19. Roman Acanthus, from the Temple of Mars Ultor 81

20. St. Denis. Scroll from 82

21. Do. Part of a Cornice 82

22. St. Mark’s, Venice. Capital from the church of 83

23. St. John’s, Constantinople. Do. do. 83

24. St. Frond, Perigueux. Do. do. 83

25. Do. do. Fragment of do. 83

26. Column of Marcion, Constantinople. Capital from 84

27. St. Germain des Pres, Paris. Do. 85

28. Lincoln Cathedral (north-west Portal). Capitals from 85

29-33. Chartres. Enriched shafts from 86

34. Cathedral of Noyon. Interior of one of the Apsidal Chapels 89

35. Do. Exterior of do. 89

36. Do. Plan of do. 89

37. St. Germain des Pres, Paris. Two Bays of Choir 92

38. Do. do. Western Doorway 93

39. Cathedral of Sens. Interior view 94

40. Cathedral of Sens. View of Choir Aisles 96

41-42. Do. Capitals from do. 97

43-46. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capitals from 98-100

47-48. Do. do. Carving from 101

49. St. Leu, near Creil. Capital from the Apse 101

50. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capital from the West Front 101

51. St. Eusèbe, Auxerre. Capital from 101

52. Noyon. Capital from the Apse 102

53. Laon. Capital from 102

54. Sens. do. 102

55. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Capital from 102

56. Sainte Chapelle, Paris. do. 103

57. Do. part of Capital from 103

58. St. Remi, Rheims. Capital from 103

59. Fountains Abbey. View across Nave 104

60. Kirkstall Abbey. View of South Transept 105

61. Durham Cathedral. The Galilee 106

62. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Vestibule of Chapter-house. View from Cloister 107

63. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Do. View from Chapter-house _To face_ 108

64. St. Mary’s Abbey, York. Plan of Vestibule of Chapter-house 108

65. York Cathedral. Archbishop’s Palace, Fragment of 109

66. Ripon Minster. Bay of Choir _To face_ 109

67. Ely Cathedral, South Transept. West end 110

68. St. Cross, near Winchester. Capital from 111

69. Canterbury Cathedral. View of Choir _To face_ 112

70. Do. Do. Trinity Chapel 112

71. Do. Capitals. William of Sens 112

72. Do. Trinity Chapel. Capital. William the Englishman 113

73. Oakham Castle, Rutlandshire. Capital from 114

74. Chapel of St. Joseph of Arimathea, Glastonbury. Exterior view 115

75. Chapel of St. Joseph of Arimathea, Glastonbury. Interior view 116

76. St. David’s Cathedral. Internal bay of Nave _To face_ 117

77-78. Do. Capitals from 118

79. Temple Church, London. View of Circular Aisle 119

80. Chichester Cathedral. Do. Eastern part _To face_ 120

81. Tynemouth Abbey. The Choir “ 120

82. Hexham Abbey. South side of Choir 121

83. Bridlington Priory Church, Yorkshire. Capital from 122

84. Ripon Cathedral. Do. 123

85. Fountains Abbey. Do. 123

86. St. Cross, Hampshire. South Aisle of Choir 124

87. Durham Cathedral. Chapel of the Nine Altars _To face_ 140

88-91. Bases of Columns from Bridlington: St. Mary’s Abbey, York:
St. Stephen’s, Caen: Veselay: and Westminster Abbey 150-151

92-93. Sections of early Bases 152

94. Rollestone, Notts. Capital from 154

95. Chartres. Specimens of carving from 154

96. Southwell Minster. Capital, etc., from 154

97. St. Quentin, Aisne. Capital with angular Abacus 156

98. Canterbury Cathedral. Capital from Crypt 157

99-102. Moulded Capitals from Salisbury, St. Alban’s and Westminster,
with sections 157-158

103-107. Base Moulds of Buildings 164

108. St. Alban’s Cathedral. Ornament in Western Portals 167

109. Do. Western Portals, south entrance _To face_ 167

110. Temple Church, London. View of Choir 173

111. Chapel of St. John Baptist, Westminster Abbey. Conventional
foliage 177

112. Do. do. Natural do. 178

113. Retabulum, or moveable Reredos, formerly belonging to the
High Altar, Westminster Abbey _To face_ 181

114. Iron grille, Queen Eleanor’s Tomb, Westminster Abbey 181

115. Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Ely Place, Holborn. Side Windows 183

116. Ely Cathedral. Western Porch. _Frontispiece._

117. Ely Cathedral. Eastern Front 190

118. Peterborough Cathedral. Circular Window, West Front 192

119. Peterborough Cathedral 193

120. Lincoln Cathedral. Rose-window North Transept 197

121. Do. View from the South-east 199

122. Do. South-east Portal _To face_ 198

123. Palais des Podestats, Orvieto, Italy. Domestic Windows 206

124. Torre di Santa, Ninfa, Palermo. Do. 206

125. Meslay, near Tours. Do. 207

126. Cluny. Houses at. Do. 207

127. Gostar. The Emperor’s House. Do. 207

128-129. Cologne. Houses at Do. 207

130. Gloucester. West Gateway, College Green. Do. 208

131-133. From an old building called Canute’s Castle, Southampton.
Domestic Windows 208

134. Moyse’s Hall, Bury St. Edmunds. Do. 208

135. Oakham Castle, Rutlandshire. Do. 209

136-137. Diagrams of Arches 223

138-140. Diagrams showing development of Piers 224

141-143. Diagrams illustrating the development of the Clustered Column 226

144. St. Trophimus, Arles. Cloisters, north side 229

145. Bridlington Priory Church. Part of remains of Cloisters 230

146-147. Diagrams showing the effect on proportion by the introduction of the Pointed Arch into Romanesque work 243

148. Laon Cathedral. Respond in Choir Aisle 248

149-151. Diagrams explaining the system of moulding 248

152. Cloth Market at Yprès _To face_ 262

153. Warehouses at Nuremburg 262

154-156. Diagrams concerning Windows 278

157. St. Pantaleon’s Church, Cologne 278

158. Burgh Church, Norfolk. Chancel, Window from 279

159-164. Diagrams of Rere-arches 280

165. Broughton Church, Oxfordshire. Window from 283

166. Christchurch, Hants. North Transept, do. 283

167. Stone Church, Kent. do. 284

168. Chancel, Brecon Priory 285

169. Winchester Cathedral. De Lucy’s work 286

170. Furness Abbey. Bay of Chapter-house 287

171. Chapel of St. Etheldreda, Holborn. West Window _To face_ 287

172. Do. do. East do. “ 287

173. Salisbury Cathedral. Chapter-house 288

174. Lincoln Cathedral. Easter Sepulchre 305

175. Do. Capitals north side of Choir 306

176-177. Westminster Abbey. Carved Capitals from 311

178-179. Westminster Abbey. Angels, from the Triforium of the
South Transept 312

180. Westminster Abbey. Mosaic from the Tomb of the Children of Henry III. and Edward I. 313

181. Temple Church, London. Capitals, West Door 314

182. Montmartre. Capitals from 319

183. St. Julien le Pauvre, Paris. Plan of Choir 320

184. Do. View of Choir 321

185. Do. South Aisle of Choir 322

186. Do. Chapel, south side of Choir 323

187-188. Nôtre Dame, Paris. Western Portals. Corbels from 324

189-191. St. Martin aux Champs, Paris. Capitals from 325

192. El Barah, Central Syria. Capital from 336

ERRATA.

Page 81, Fig. 19, _for_ Temple of Mars, Ultor,
_read_ Temple of Mars Ultor.
“ 94, line 26, _for_ Choir at the Trinity Chapel,
_read_ Choir and the Trinity Chapel.
“ 170, Contents, line 6, _for_ Stanford, _read_ Stamford.
“ 175, foot-note, _for_ Beavais, _read_ Beauvais.

MEDIÆVAL ARCHITECTURE.

LECTURE I.

The Claims of Mediæval Architecture upon our Study.

Introduction--Art follows the course of civilisation--Three _primâ
facie_ claims Gothic Architecture has upon Study--Additional claim,
that it is Christian Architecture--Objections to the
title--Explanations of the term--Byzantine the earliest Christian
style--Summary of the Historical claims of Mediæval
Architecture--Its intrinsic claims--Abstract beauty--Advantages of
an arcuated over a trabeated style--Facility in decorating
construction, and in converting structural features into elements
of beauty--Adaptability to varied climates--Unites all arts in
one--Painted glass--Sculpture--Foliated sculpture--Gothic
Architecture suited to the severest and most elegant styles--Beauty
of external outline--Delicacy of mouldings--Religious solemnity of
the interior of its temples--The spirit with which the study of
Mediæval Architecture should be undertaken--How to be
pursued--Practical objects for which it should be followed up.

It is with feelings somewhat closely bordering upon trepidation that, availing myself of the liberty given by the regulations recently passed by the Council of the Royal Academy, I venture to address you on a subject which has never, till now, been more than incidentally touched upon within these walls; a subject, indeed, dear to my heart, and entwined among my inmost thoughts and affections, but one which, perhaps for that very reason, I feel it the more difficult to bring before you through the medium of a lecture. It may be at first sight imagined that love, of all the human feelings, is that best calculated to aid in describing the beauties of its object, and in advocating its claims upon the admiration; but it is not so. We can hardly state the reasons why we love our parents or our brothers. We know that it is a feeling which has grown with our growth, and is a part of our very existence; yet it is probable that an acquaintance who has never shared in these warmer sentiments might describe their character and even their virtues more successfully than ourselves. If we seek to investigate them, we find the research all too cold and too methodical to accord with the tone of our feelings; and, like the poet who wished to sing of the Atrides and of Cadmus, the chords of our hearts respond only of love.

So it is with those who have harboured an early affection for the architecture of their native land. Strongly as I appreciate the intrinsic beauty of the monuments of classic antiquity, and the merits of very many works of the Revival, I should doubt whether it were possible for any unsophisticated youth, before studying their architecture as a science, to entertain towards its productions in this country any feelings bordering upon real affection. He may see in them much to admire--much to lead him to study the art which has produced them; and this study will, no doubt, often kindle those warmer feelings which ripen into love. But this is a very different feeling from that deep and filial affection which many a youth, untaught in art, but gifted by nature with a perception of its beauties, has entertained from his tenderest years towards the old churches of his neighbourhood, and which has impelled him to walk from village to village, not only under the balmy influences of summer, but along muddy roads or snowy paths, and, with glowing heart but shivering hand, to sketch the humble porch, the unaspiring steeple, and the mutilated though venerable monument, with feelings of indescribable delight.

It is this instinctive affection which it is so difficult to reason upon, and to which cold investigation seems so uncongenial; yet most pleasant it is, in after life, to find ever new proof that our early feelings have not been misplaced; that those once callous warm up when they are led to examine; that those who, strange to say, disliked the architecture of their forefathers, are now forced to admit some of its beauties; that the style, once despised, has become gradually appreciated, and its study become the favourite pursuit of thousands--every county having its society organised to promote it; that in every country in which it once flourished (Italy herself not excepted), the same revived feeling towards it has arisen; and, finally, that this distinguished Academy has stamped it as equally classic with the architecture of the ancient world, and admitted it to an equal place in the instructions offered to her students.

Having found it impracticable, from previous engagements, to give, as had been kindly suggested to me, a short course of lectures during this season, I propose on the present occasion to limit myself to some introductory remarks on the study of Mediæval architecture, which I trust, with the kind permission of the Council, to follow up next year by one or two further lectures, both upon its original productions, and upon the bearing of the study of them upon our own practice and the architecture of the future.

I will commence by considering the different claims which Pointed architecture has upon our study.

The more carefully we examine into the subject, the stronger and the more numerous do we find these claims to be. To a casual observer, the interest we feel in the subject may appear to be the result of local prejudice or of arbitrary choice, and our Mediæval styles may seem to have no greater claim upon us than those of a hundred other periods or countries. The fact, however, is the very reverse--that Pointed architecture is marked out from others in the most signal and remarkable manner. I will briefly point out some of the circumstances which thus especially single it out.

In tracing the history of civilisation, we cannot fail to perceive that, from the earliest ages to the present, it has followed one not unbroken, yet connected stream, and though branches have struck off in different directions, it has ever had one main channel, which at each period represents the central mass of civilisation; this stream, passing now through this country and now through that, but its place being nearly always so marked as to leave no doubt as to where, in each succeeding age, the main seat of civilisation is to be found. Art has in regular succession followed in the same course--the main channel of civilisation and art having been the same, though each possessing its minor branches.

The earliest seats of mental culture were the great valleys of Egypt and Mesopotamia. There, too, were the cradles of primitive art. The less enduring materials of the Eastern valley have deprived us of the remains of its earlier architecture, but the imperishable ruins of Egypt will tell till earth’s closing day how mighty was her primæval civilisation.

Persia seems to have succeeded to Egypt and Assyria as well in art as in dominion; but long before her political power had been overthrown, the stream of mental power had been transferred to Greece, whose arts and knowledge, partly indigenous and partly derived from Egypt and Assyria, so infinitely excelled all which had preceded them, that we are apt, and with reason, to view them as the only genuine art and civilisation of the ancient world.

Rome, succeeding Greece in external power, borrowed both her arts and literature, but, throughout her whole career, was as subordinate to her in these as she was predominant in power; and when that great catastrophe occurred which crushed to dust the mighty fabric of Roman domination, it was again in Greece that civilisation and art flowed on, and it was thence that those friendly streams proceeded which enabled the Gothic conquerors of Rome to reconstruct what they had destroyed, and among the _débris_ of ancient art and knowledge to sow the seeds and to foster the growth of that richer and mightier civilisation which distinguishes the modern from the ancient world.

In all its earlier stages, the growth of civilisation in the modern, as in the ancient world, was marked by corresponding changes in its architecture. Each age had its architectural style distinctly and strongly marked; a style which, though connecting itself unmistakeably with the long chain of ancient art that, though rudely broken in the West, had been continuous in the Eastern empire, was nevertheless so distinct from any former link in that chain as clearly to mark a new dynasty in human affairs, and to show that the stream which had passed successively through Egypt, Assyria, Persia, Greece, and Rome, was now making wide and deep its channel among those Gothic nations whose progenitors had been viewed as the enemies of art and knowledge, and that the seat of art was henceforth to be established among those vigorous races which had destroyed that of the ancient world.

My object in going over this well-beaten path is to draw your attention to three very marked _primâ facie_ claims which Gothic architecture has upon our study. Firstly, that, though we are in the habit of considering it antiquated, it is in fact the architecture of the modern as distinguished from the ancient world--that, just as the architecture of the earlier half of the world’s history culminated in that of Greece, which must ever be viewed as its most perfect and most glorious representative, so did the indigenous architecture of the newer world reach its culminating point in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries among the nations of Western Europe--the depositaries of a new civilisation. Secondly, that it is the architecture of the Germanic nations, through whose land the main stream of civilisation now runs, as of old it did through Greece, Egypt, and Rome. And, thirdly, that it is the latest original style of architecture which the civilised world has produced; that the chain of architectural styles, commencing in Egypt, and passing on in continuous course through Assyria, Persia, Greece, Rome, and Byzantium, and thence taken up by the infant nations of modern Europe, and by them prolonged through successive ages of continuous progress, terminated in the style which we are treating of, and has never since produced another link of its own.

As, then, the architecture of Egypt claims our respect as the earliest link in the history of architecture, so are our own Mediæval styles especially marked out from all others as being its latest creation. That continuous stream of indigenous art which from the earliest ages of the world had unceasingly flowed onwards--now through this country, and now through that; now smoothly flowing on through a deep and copious channel, and now choked up with rocks, or spreading itself sluggishly and unhealthily through marshes and morasses, but ever progressing--seemed at the end of the period we are speaking of to turn back upon its course, and, instead of creating as heretofore ever new beauties of its own, to content itself with reproducing those of bygone periods: instead of illustrating, as it were, the collateral stream of civilisation which flowed on so mightily by its side, it accompanied it by images of that of an older world--of another family of nations--of another religion; and since then, though civilisation has rolled on in a continuous course, it has failed to produce any style of architecture of its own.

Mediæval architecture, then, is distinguished from all other styles as being the _last_ link of the mighty chain which had stretched unbroken through nearly 4000 years--the glorious termination of the history of _original_ and _genuine_ architecture.

The next claim to which I will direct your attention is, that our style is, _par excellence_, Christian architecture.

This is a claim which it is so much the fashion of the day to dispute, and even to deride, that it demands somewhat careful investigation. Many who have no hesitation in using the terms Mahometan, Hindoo, or Buddhist architecture, and who do not in the least deny the influence of the various religions of the ancients upon their modes of building, see nothing but fanaticism in attributing any such influence to Christianity; or if they do not deny this influence, they view Pointed architecture as the special property of the Roman Church (though Rome herself boasts of having scarcely admitted it within her walls), and find no style to symbolise their Protestantism but that derived from the heathenism of the ancient world, and whose more recent type is to be found in the great metropolitan church of modern Rome.

Other more reasoning persons object that, as Christianity, in its purest ages, adopted a modified form of the ancient Roman style, and bent it to its uses, the Roman style became by that process a _bona fide_ Christian architecture; and further argue that Pointed architecture, having derived some of its forms from the Saracenic, has thereby lost its title to being considered a purely Christian style.

To meet these objections, it is necessary to explain what we mean by Christian architecture.

There can be no doubt that nearly all forms of architecture have taken their rise in the temple, whose form and character have been regulated by the religion for which it was erected. From the temple it has diffused itself throughout all classes of buildings, carrying with it, in a certain degree, the feeling it had already acquired. No one will deny this of the Egyptian, the Greek, or the Saracenic; and so inconsistent are people on such questions, that the very persons who would laugh at the term “Christian architecture” will almost in the same breath object to the use of our style for secular buildings, on the ground that it will make them look like churches!

Now, what we claim for Pointed architecture is, not that it is the only Christian style which has arisen or is likely to arise, but that it has been more entirely developed under the influence of the Christian religion, and more thoroughly carries out its tone and sentiment than any other style. It is not exclusively, but _par eminence_, Christian. The early Christians naturally adopted the style which was ready made to their hands. That this style, as they found it, was essentially Pagan, it would be absurd to deny; but it was the only one they knew; and, carefully avoiding the types of Pagan temples, they adopted one of its secular forms, and wholly adapted it to their uses. The buildings thus produced were unmistakeably Christian, but it would be absurd to say so of their style. This being nearly identical with that of their Heathen predecessors, it needed a long course of remoulding before it could justly be predicated of it that it was a Christian style--a style generated under the influence of Christian customs, to fulfil Christian requirements, and to harmonise fully with the sentiments of the religion of those who made use of it.

The earliest style which may fairly be called Christian was the Byzantine. In the East no sudden revolution had affected art or civilisation, but the Greek empire, founded at the moment when Christianity became the established religion, went on quietly adapting its arts and institutions to its new religion. Art having already degenerated under the later Pagan emperors, and difficulties both from without and from within gradually weakening and undermining the power of the State, it was natural that the changing style should not have that full scope which would have been afforded it had the purifying influences of Christianity acquired full sway during the Augustan age. Painting, sculpture, and architectural carving had lamentably fallen off before they were transferred from the Heathen temple to the Christian church, and even the more mechanical features of Roman architecture had departed widely from their original purity of form. The task prescribed to the new religion was not to take the highest form of Pagan art as it had existed under Pericles or Augustus, and to mould it to its own uses and its own purer and holier sentiments: what she had to deal with was a mere wreck of its former self: all its early simplicity destroyed, its vigour enervated, its magic instinct for beauty gone, its artists fast falling back into barbarism; and that not the savageness of early but untutored art, but the effete and nerveless heartlessness of a race whose glory had departed. It was this lifeless body which Christianity had to awaken to new energy--this dull and spiritless lump out of which she had to mould her future arts, and that at a time when the western half of the empire was about to be crushed to powder by the mighty storm of Northern barbarism, and the eastern portion itself weakened by gradual decay and by the incursions of the Goths, Huns, Persians, etc., and eventually by the tremendous inundation of the followers of Mahomet. That such a glorious result as Byzantine architecture should have been produced out of materials so lifeless, and through the agency of a decaying nation, speaks volumes for the power of religion over art.

Let us turn, however, to the Western empire. There the case is still stronger. With the same decayed and lifeless art as their nucleus, the people of Christian Rome had the additional disadvantage caused by the removal of the seat of government, and with it of the seat of art, to Constantinople; nevertheless, their first efforts were so successful, that though, in the words of Thomas Hope, “The architecture of the Heathen Romans, in its deterioration, followed so regular a course, that that which most nearly preceded the conversion of its rulers to Christianity is also the worst,”--the same author tells us that “the early Christian buildings, from their simplicity, the distinctness, the magnificence, the harmony of their component parts, had a grandeur which we seek in vain in the complicated architecture of modern churches.”

What course art would have taken had the Roman empire continued it is impossible to judge. It was destined to share the fate of the empire itself, and to be utterly overwhelmed by that mighty deluge which severs the ancient from the modern world; so that its Christianisation, instead of being gradual and progressive, as in the East, became a complete reconstruction by the successors of those who had destroyed it, though aided in their work by the friendly hands of those who, in the Eastern empire, had kept alight the lamp of civilisation.[1] The architecture of the West, therefore, instead of being a mere translation of the old style from Pagan to Christian uses and expression, was a new creation, formed, it is true, out of the ancient _débris_, but nevertheless originated, carried on, and perfected by Christian nations and for Christian uses, and may, consequently, be said, even in a stronger sense than that of Byzantium, to be a distinct Christian style; and I suppose none would doubt that its culminating point, and that to which all its progress tended, was the Pointed architecture of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.

An argument against its claim to the title has been founded on the theory that the Pointed arch, which is, in some respects, the culminating feature of the style, was not developed spontaneously by our Christian forefathers, but learned by them from the Saracens. As well might it be attempted to sever Grecian architecture from the mythology and traditions of the Greeks, merely because some of its details may find their prototypes in Egypt or Assyria, or to disconnect the native architecture of India from their religion, because its first inspiration seems traceable to the Fire-worshippers of ancient Persia! Even Saracenic architecture itself was an emanation from that of Christian Greece; so that _if_ we are indebted to it for the Pointed arch (a question which I will not now attempt to investigate), she only paid back to the religion from which she had borrowed. No one, however, can study the tendencies of the late Romanesque without seeing that the Pointed arch was becoming every day more necessary to the development of the germ which the rising style contained. The gradually increasing predominance of the vertical over the horizontal, the increase in the height of pillars and jambs demanding a proportionate addition to the arch; the necessities of groined vaulting over oblong spaces, and a hundred other evidences, proved the Pointed arch to be the inevitable result of the already attained developments; and often had it, almost unconsciously, appeared in intersecting arcades. If its systematic adoption can with certainty be traced to the suggestive architecture of the East, surely this does not unchristianise the already Christian architecture of the soldiers of the Cross, who brought the idea home among the spoils won from their unbelieving foes! Is it not rather in the spirit of our religion to receive tribute and homage from all the nations of the earth? And if it may be said of the Christian Church that

“Eastern Java there
Kneels with the native of the farthest west;
And Æthiopia spreads abroad the hand,
And worships,”

it is equally reasonable to expect of her material temples that

“The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Ind,
And Saba’s spicy groves, pay tribute there.”

The character of a style of art does not depend upon the mere material from which it has been fabricated, but upon the sentiments under which it has been developed. Were not this the case, all styles, excepting, perhaps, those in China and Central America, with a few others still more obscure, would be more or less connected with the religion of Egypt or of Nineveh; whereas, in fact, every race up to the sixteenth century, had so moulded the original materials upon which its arts had been founded as to render them expressive, in a great degree, of their own sentiments, and especially of their own religion; and more strongly than in any other case was it so with our own forefathers, when developing the latest of all styles of genuine architecture, and moulding it to harmonise with the sentiment of our holy religion.

The last of the historical claims of Pointed architecture to which I will call your attention is, that it is the native architecture of our own country, and that of our own forefathers. Here, again, I must define my meaning for the sake of meeting a class of objectors who delight to attach a false and exaggerated meaning to an expression.

I do not, then, mean that Pointed architecture belongs to us in any different sense from that in which it belongs to France or Germany: I do not mean to revive the claims of our country to its origination, nor to assert in its behalf any pre-eminent share in its development. All I mean to urge is the simple fact that, by whatever members of our family of nations it was shared, it was, nevertheless, the architecture of our own country--just as much English as we are ourselves--as indigenous to our country as are our wild flowers, our family names, our customs, or our political constitution.

In England, as in France and Germany, the same Romanesque architecture had (with local varieties) grown up with the new civilisation; as it perfected itself it showed in each the same tendencies and the same yearnings, which Pointed architecture could alone satisfy. If it were so that these were at length met by suggestions from the East, it was our forefathers who fought there side by side with those of our neighbours, and the lessons learned and the trophies won were common property. It is possible that France was more rapid in making use of them, and it is certain that Germany was the most tardy in doing so; but in each the result had long been aimed at; in each it was the natural consequence of what had already been attained; and was therefore not the property of one, but the common inheritance of all; and each having attained it, carried it on and developed it in her own way, thus making it in every sense her own.

I am, however, only urging this as a claim which our old architecture has upon our own study. If we investigate the architecture of Egypt, of Assyria, or of Persia, we find that it tells of races with whom we have no national or personal sympathy. If we go to the classic shores of Greece, though there we should be viewing the work of a race whose arts and literature are, more than those of any other people, the property of the world, we nevertheless fail to find anything to connect them in any special sense with ourselves. If we transfer our researches from Greece to Rome--though we now view the vestiges of that mighty empire whose world-wide sway stretched its iron sceptre over our own land, and though we find among them the germ of the arcuated architecture which forms the nucleus of our own styles--they are still severed from us by so wide a gulf that, were it not for the modern revival of their style, they would appear perfectly alien to our race and climate. All these studies must be followed up in distant lands, excepting only those few fragments of Roman work scattered here and there in our own and neighbouring countries--the evidences of universal empire, the footsteps and symbols of ancient servitude. How different is the study of Gothic architecture! Its original exemplars are at our own doors; the very churches, perhaps, in which from our infancy we have worshipped; the monuments of our own forefathers; the works of men bearing our own names, whose armorial badges we are still proud to use; who spoke, in its pristine form, our own language; who sat in our own Parliaments, were lords of still-existing manors, founders of still-surviving charities, men who fought the battles of which we are still proud, and laid the foundations of our liberties and of all those institutions which render the name of England illustrious among the nations of the earth. Surely the architecture which grew up among men so nearly allied to us has a pre-eminent claim upon our attention!

I have thus traced out what appear to me to be the leading historical claims of the style we are treating of, and which I will recapitulate as being--

1stly. That it is the architecture of the modern, as distinguished
from the ancient world.

2dly. That it is the architecture of the nations wholly or
partially of Germanic origin, in whose hands the civilisation of
the modern world has been vested.

3dly. That it is the latest link in the chain of genuine and
original styles of architecture, a chain commencing with the first
settlement of the human race, and terminating in Gothic
architecture.

4thly. That it is, in a stronger sense than can be predicated of
any other style, Christian architecture.

5thly, and lastly. That it is pre-eminently the architecture of our
own forefathers and of our own land.

I will now proceed to direct your attention to some of the more prominent among its _intrinsic_ claims.

Commencing, then, with its abstract beauty, I will not treat this as a comparative, but as a positive, quality. Differences of taste and education lead us to form varied estimates of the relative merits of the several styles of art, but the most devoted follower of classic antiquity could scarcely question the absolute and intrinsic beauty of a Gothic cathedral. Every style of architecture has had its own glories. The mighty Hall at Karnac; the Hall of Xerxes at Persepolis; that model of symmetry, the Parthenon; the Coliseum at Rome; and that gorgeous congeries of domes which canopied the shrine of Holy Wisdom at Constantinople, all rank among the most noble of the works of man; but who is there so prejudiced as to deny the worthiness of those glorious temples which preside in august serenity over the cities of Northern Europe to an equal place in our admiration? Surely, if abstract beauty and intrinsic grandeur alone are considered, the cathedrals of Amiens, of Rheims, of Chartres, of Bourges, of Strasburg, of Cologne, of Lincoln, Salisbury, or York, with a hundred others, will not suffer by comparison with the works of any previous age? Nay, I am convinced that an unprejudiced umpire would go much further, and pronounce them in most respects far superior to the works of earlier ages; but my argument only requires that they should be admitted as their equals.

The next claim I will state is this--that as trabeated architecture was brought to its highest perfection by the Greeks, so the other great type of construction, arcuated architecture, was perfected by the Mediæval builders; the round-arch variety in the twelfth, and the pointed-arch in the two succeeding centuries. No one who gives the subject a moment’s consideration will doubt the enormous advantages of the arcuated over the trabeated system: indeed, with the materials we have at command in this country, the former style in its purity is in most cases impracticable, as is shown by half our modern attempts at it being in reality arcuation plastered over to look like trabeation.

The peculiar advantages of the pointed arch (though I do not urge them to the exclusion of other forms) are its greater power of carrying weight; its lessened thrust; the facility with which it proportions its height to that of its supporting jambs, and the general feeling of the building in which it is used, whether more or less vertical in its tendency; and its great advantages in groined vaulting.

The next quality I will mention is the extraordinary facility of our style in _decorating construction_, and in converting structural and useful features into elements of beauty. The arch, its normal feature, supplies to it an endless store of beauty. The vault supplies another inexhaustible fund, and assumes forms unrivalled in any other style. The window, comparatively neglected by the ancient architects, and even hated by the Greeks, was, in the hands of the Gothic builders, a perfect treasury of architectural loveliness; and the introduction of window-glass, an invention nearly unknown to the ancients, became the source of an entirely new and most enchanting art, and one which exercised the most surprising influence upon architecture. The buttress, the natural but unpromising accompaniment of an arcuated style, became in their magic hands, a source of stateliness and varied beauty. The roof, unwillingly shown by the Classic builders, adds solemn dignity to the works of their Northern successors; while, if need be, its timbers are made to contribute liberally to the effect of the interior. The campanile, a structure resulting wholly from practical necessity, became the greatest ornament of Christian cities, and supplied an endless variety of majestic forms, which had no parallels in ancient architecture; and generally, whatever feature, whether homely or otherwise, construction or utility demanded, was at once enlisted, and that with right goodwill and heartiness, among the essential elements of the design.

Carrying out the same spirit, no material was either too rich or too rustic to find an honourable place in the works of these truly Catholic builders. The varied marbles of the Appenines, the polished amethysts of Bohemia, the glass mosaics of the Byzantines, with gold and silver, enamel, brass, and iron, were all brought under tribute to make their richer works glorious; yet they were equally at home in the use of brick, or flint, or rubble, and did not despise even a homely coating of plaster, if only it were honestly and truthfully used. And, what is more remarkable, they excelled in the use of nearly every one of these materials, and varied their design with instinctive precision to meet every one of their individual conditions.

Carrying on the same spirit a step further, Gothic architecture shapes itself instinctively to varied climate and local tradition, and that without sacrificing its leading principles. It is true that its great normal types are found in Northern Europe, and that the north of France may, perhaps, be considered as its central province; yet how admirably does it shape itself to the varied conditions of Italy or Spain, to the valleys of Switzerland or the inhospitable shores of Scandinavia! while in every country where it prevailed it assumes a national type, and in every province a local variety.

In the same way, again, it suits itself to every grade and every class of building to which it is applied. It is equally at home in the humble chapel of the rustic hamlet as in the metropolitan cathedral. The traveller through Lincolnshire is no less charmed by the village churches which rise in such profusion from its level surface than with the majestic minster, which, from its lofty site, surveys the whole county; nor are we, after wondering at the stupendous grandeur of York, the less disposed to be delighted with the little village chapel at Skelton; and even the rudest structures of the most obscure district possess a truthfulness and a sentiment which does more than compensate for their rusticity. To pass again to different classes of building, the Mediæval castles, though belonging to a class which the altered modes of warfare have rendered obsolete, are in their degree as noble and as thoroughly suited to their purpose as the sacred structures. The manor-house, the farm, and the cottage, show equal appropriateness of treatment. The timber street-fronts of Coventry or Brunswick; the brick houses of Lubeck or of the Lombard cities, or those of stone at Nuremberg--all evince the same power of meeting the conditions of purpose or material; while the vast warehouses of the commercial cities of Germany, the town halls of Flanders, and the tithe barns of an English village are, in their way, as admirable and as appropriate as the minster at Rheims or the castle at Carnarvon.

Again, Gothic architecture unites all arts in one, more, perhaps, than has been effected by any other style, or, to say the least, fully as much so.

In its normal form a stone architecture, it does not make all other materials conform to this condition, but treats them each according to its own demands. It is almost equally successful in its timber roofs as in its stone construction, and equally perfect in wood as in stone carving; it treats iron and brass in a manner perfectly suited to the varying conditions; it brings in painted decorations of the richest or the simplest character, as best suits the building; it has introduced one all-pervading art entirely of its own--I mean painted glass; and no art perhaps ever contributed in so large a degree to the increase of architectural effect: its jewellery, enamels, ivory carving, embroidery, tapestry, and all other arts are in perfect harmony; and though it fell short of the Classic styles in the perfection of its figure sculpture, it possessed even here a solemn and severe dignity, hardly equalled at any period, and its draperies often exceeded in beauty those of the Classic sculptors.

In describing the sculptures at Wells Cathedral, our revered professor, who possesses, in a greater degree than any one whom it is my privilege to know, the happiness of being susceptible of enthusiastic emotion from the beauties of a rival school of art to that to which he has especially devoted himself, makes the following remarks:--

“Regarded in the right spirit, we shall wonder at the inexhaustible resources of the artist in delineating the various and opposite characters of his multifarious composition--in which no two are to be found alike, and in each of which we find the appropriate idea--and the fulness of embodiment which sustains the _dramatis personæ_ throughout, with an untiring energy of impersonation in costume, symbol, and action, which excites our warmest admiration.

“We have the sanctity of the Monk, the meekness and abstraction of the supreme Pontiff; the Archbishop; the pious energy of the Bishop in the act of benediction; the prudent Abbot; the devoted Anchorite; the haughty and imposing King; the stark conqueror fiercely justifying his usurpation; the placid and impassible Confessor administering his good old laws ...; the inspired Evangelist or the malignant sprite;--each and all discovering a racy energy of conception which the informed artist may envy.”

Again: “The Mediæval artist appealed sometimes to the imagination, and sometimes to the conscience; and thus gave a degree of sentiment to his works, which the moderns can scarcely attempt,--much less attain....

“But it is the moral understanding of the artist which is most affected by the contemplation of so vast an assemblage of Christian art, as contrasted with the Classical, contained in our museums or in ancient monuments. Habituated to the Grecian model, in which the pride of life, the sensuality of beauty, a superhuman energy, or an unreal Elysium are assumed, deluding with a _beau-ideal_, and disappointing to all human experience, he is brought here to the full admission of the realities and true conditions of human existence--probation by the sweat of the brow, and the grand achievement of eternal life. Art is here employed to impress the great lessons of Truth, the warfare of the world, the subjugation of the natural to the spiritual man, the honest employment of the intellect in the great cause of religion.... No characters enter into this picture which have not been signalised by some great good to society, or some great triumph over all-absorbing self. Wisdom in its true sense, and varying energies of personal or intellectual strength, in a great cause, are the only passports to admission in these records.”

I need not apologise for quoting at so much length from him who has so often and so eloquently addressed you from this place, and cannot refrain from adding the following admirable reflections to which the work he was describing gave rise:--

“The poetic faculty, the fine sense of beauty, grace, and humour, are the gifts of nature: technical and mechanical skill may be acquired by academy and happy circumstances. The union of these qualifications, which is requisite to perfection in a work of art, is indeed a rare felicity: their separate existence is a melancholy fact, exhibited by the history of schools; in which, for the most part mechanism and technicality usurp the higher attainment, and the wide distinction between the professional practitioner and the inborn artist is made apparent to us. But the end of all sound criticism should be to recognise these distinctions; to seize the poetical conception, however encumbered with a faulty execution; and to appreciate in their true merit the more exalted and the rarer qualities; else the poet descends to the grammarian, and the intellectual artist to the handicraftsman.”