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Title: A History of Architecture in All Countries, Volume 2, 3rd ed.

Author: James Fergusson

Editor: Richard Phené Spiers

Release date: November 1, 2017 [eBook #55872]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HISTORY OF
ARCHITECTURE IN ALL COUNTRIES, VOLUME 2, 3RD ED. ***

Transcriber’s Note

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in
the public domain. Scale bars marked '1 in.' have been added to
illustrations for which a scale is given (e.g. 50 ft. to 1 in.) to
indicate the size of the image as printed in the original book.
Ditto marks have been replaced by the text they represent. Some
corrections have been made to the printed text. These are listed in
a second transcriber’s note at the end of the text.

PORTAL OF THE CONVENT AT BELEM,
NEAR LISBON.

A

HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE

IN ALL COUNTRIES,

FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE PRESENT DAY.

By JAMES FERGUSSON, D.C.L., F.R.S., M.R.A.S.,
FELLOW ROYAL INST. BRIT. ARCHITECTS,
&c. &c. &c.

Façade of Church at Tourmanin.

IN FIVE VOLUMES.—Vol. II.

THIRD EDITION.

Edited by R. PHENÉ SPIERS, F.S.A.,
FELLOW ROYAL INST. BRITISH ARCHITECTS.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET,
1893.
The right of Translation is reserved.

FERGUSSON’S ARCHITECTURE.

Third Edition, with 330 Illustrations, 2 vols., medium 8vo, 31s. 6d.

A HISTORY OF THE MODERN STYLES
OF ARCHITECTURE.
By the late JAMES FERGUSSON, F.R.S.

A New Edition, Revised and Enlarged. With a Special Account of
the Architecture of America.

By ROBERT KERR, Professor of Architecture at King’s College, London.

BY THE SAME.

New and Cheaper Edition, with 400 Illustrations, medium 8vo, 31s. 6d.

A HISTORY OF INDIAN AND EASTERN
ARCHITECTURE.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

PART II.—CHRISTIAN ARCHITECTURE.
(Continued.)

BOOK II.—ITALY.

(Continued.)

Chap. Page

VII. Circular churches—Towers at Prato and Florence—Porches— 1
Civic buildings—Town-halls—Venice—Doge’s Palace—Cà
d’Oro—Conclusion

VIII. Sicily—Population of Sicily—The Saracens—Buildings at 22
Palermo—Cathedral of Monreale—Cefalu—The Pointed Arch

IX. Gothic Architecture in Palestine—Church of Holy 32
Sepulchre, Jerusalem—Churches at Abû Gosh and Lydda—
Mosque at Hebron

BOOK III.—FRANCE.

I. Division of subject—Pointed arches—Provence—Churches at 39
Avignon, Arles, Alet, Fontifroide, Maguelonne, Vienne—
Circular churches—Towers—Cloisters

II. Aquitania—Churches at Périgueux, Souillac, Angoulême, Alby, 64
Toulouse, Conques, Tours—Tombs

III. Anjou—Cathedral at Angers—Church at Fontevrault—Poitiers 81
—Angiovine spires

IV. Auvergne—Church at Issoire—Clermont—Fortified Church at 89
Royat

V. Burgundy—Church of St. Martin d’Ainay—Cathedral at le 94
Puy-en-Velay—Abbeys of Tournus and Cluny—Cathedral of
Autun—Church of St. Menoux

VI. Frankish Province—Exceptional buildings—Basse Œuvre, 104
Beauvais—Montier-en-Der

VII. Normandy—Triapsal Churches—Churches at Caen— 110
Intersecting Vaulting—Bayeux

VIII. Frankish Architecture—Historical notice—The pointed 120
arch—Freemasonry—Mediæval architects

IX. French Gothic Cathedrals—Paris—Chartres—Rheims— 130
Amiens—Other Cathedrals—Later style—St. Ouen’s, Rouen

X. Gothic details—Pillars—Windows—Circular Windows—Bays 161
—Vaults—Buttresses—Pinnacles—Spires—Decoration—
Construction—Furniture of Churches—Domestic architecture

BOOK IV.—BELGIUM AND HOLLAND.

I. Historical notice—Old Churches—Cathedral of Tournay— 187
Antwerp—St. Jacques at Liège

II. Civil Architecture—Belfries—Hall at Ypres—Louvain— 199
Brussels—Domestic architecture

III. Holland—Churches—Civil and Domestic Buildings 206

BOOK V.—GERMANY.

I. Introductory—Chronology and Historical notice 209

II. Basilicas—Plan of St. Gall—Church at Reichenau—Romain- 213
Motier—Granson—Church at Gernrode—Trèves—Hildesheim
—Cathedrals of Worms and Spires—Churches at Cologne—
Other Churches and Chapels—Double Churches—Swiss
Churches

III. Circular Churches—Aix-la-Chapelle—Nymwegen—Fulda— 247
Bonn—Cobern

IV. Domestic Architecture—Lorsch—Palaces on the Wartburg— 255
Gelnhausen—Houses—Windows

V. Pointed Style in Germany—History of style—St. Gereon, 264
Cologne—Churches at Gelnhausen—Marburg—Cologne
Cathedral—Freiburg—Strasburg—St. Stephen’s, Vienna—
Nuremberg—Mühlhausen—Erfurt

VI. Circular Churches—Church Furniture—Civil Architecture— 292
Town-hall at Brunswick

VII. Northern Germany—Brick Architecture—Churches at 302
Lubeck—in Brandenburg—in Ermeland—Castle at Marienburg

BOOK VI.—SCANDINAVIA.

I. Sweden—Norway—Denmark—Gothland—Round Churches— 313
Wooden Churches

BOOK VII.—ENGLAND.

I. Introductory 335

II. Saxon Architecture 341

III. English Mediæval Architecture—Plans of English Cathedral 345
Churches—Vaults—Pier Arches—Window tracery—External
Proportions—Diversity of Style—Situation—Chapter-Houses—
Chapels—Parish Churches—Details—Tombs—Civil and
Domestic Architecture

IV. Architecture of Scotland—Affinities of Style—Early 418
Specimens—Cathedral of Glasgow—Elgin—Melrose—Other
Churches—Monasteries

V. Ireland—Oratories—Round Towers—Domical Dwellings— 443
Domestic Architecture—Runic Cross Decoration

BOOK VIII.—SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.

I. Spain—Introductory 460

II. Romanesque Churches at Naranco, Roda, and Leon—Early 464
Spanish Gothic: Churches at Santiago, Zamora, Toro, Avila,

Salamanca, and Tarragona—Middle Pointed style: Churches at
Toledo, Burgos, Leon, Barcelona, Manresa, Gerona, Seville—
Late Gothic style: Churches at Segovia, Villena—Moresco style:
Churches at Toledo, Ilescas, and Saragoza

III. Civil Architecture—Monastic Buildings—Municipal 502
Buildings—Castles

IV. Portugal—Church of Batalha—Alcobaça—Belem 507

PART III.—SARACENIC AND ANCIENT AMERICAN
ARCHITECTURE.

BOOK I.

I. Saracenic Architecture in Christian Countries; or, Byzantine 512
Saracenic—Introduction

II. Syria and Egypt—Mosques at Jerusalem—El Aksah—Dome of 516
the Rock—Mosque at Damascus—Egypt—Mosques at Cairo—
Mosque at Kerouan—Other African buildings—Mecca

III. Spain—Introductory Remarks—Mosque at Cordoba—Palace at 542
Zahra—Churches at Sta. Maria and Cristo de la Luz at Toledo—
Giralda at Seville—Palace of the Alcazar—The Alhambra—
Sicily

IV. Turkey—Mosques of Mahomet II.—Suleimanie and Ahmedjie 556
Mosques—Mosques of Sultanas Validé, and of Osman III.—
Civil and Domestic Architecture—Fountains, &c.

V. Persia—Historical notice—Tombs at Bagdad—Imaret at 567
Erzeroum—Mosque at Tabreez—Tomb at Sultanieh—Bazaar at
Ispahan—College of Husein Shah—Palaces and other Buildings
—Turkestan

BOOK II.—ANCIENT AMERICA.

I. Introductory 583

II. Central America—Historical notice—Central American style 589
—Temples—Palaces—Buildings at Palenque—Uxmal, &c.

III. Peru—Historical notice—Titicaca—Tombs—Walls of Cuzco, 600
&c.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

NO. PAGE

Frontispiece.—Portal of the Convent at Belem, near Lisbon.

Vignette to Title-page.—Façade of Church at Tourmanin.

Frontispiece to Part II. (continued).—View of Cologne Cathedral xvi

513. Plan of Baptistery, Parma 2

514. Baptistery at Parma, half Section half Elevation 2

515. View of the Duomo at Prato 3

516. Torracio at Cremona 4

517. Campanile, Palazzo Scaligeri, Verona 5

518. Campanile, S. Andrea, Mantua 6

519. Campanile at Florence 7

520. North Porch, Sta. Maria Maggiore, Bergamo 9

521. Palace of the Jurisconsults at Cremona 11

522. Broletto at Como 12

523. Ornamental Brickwork from the Broletto at Brescia 13

524. Window from the Cathedral of Monza 14

525, 526. Windows from Verona 15

527. Central Part of the Façade of the Doge’s Palace, Venice 16

528. Palace of Cà d’Oro, Venice 18

529. Angle Window at Venice 19

530. Ponte del Paradiso, Venice 20

531. San Giovanni degli Eremiti, Palermo 25

532. Plan of Church at Monreale 26

533. Portion of the Nave, Monreale 27

534. Lateral Entrance to Cathedral at Palermo 28

535. East End of Cathedral at Palermo 29

536. Plan of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem 34

537. Holy Sepulchre—Plan and Elevation as it existed before the
fire in 1808 35

538. Plan of Church at Abû Gosh 36

539. Section of East End of same 36

540. Section of East End of Church at Lydda 37

541. Plan of Apse of Church at Lydda 37

542. Plan of Mosque at Hebron 38

543. Diagram of the Architectural Divisions of France 41

544. Diagram of Vaulting 46

545. Diagram of Dome pendentives 47

546. Section of Church at Carcassonne, with the outer aisles
added in the 14th century 48

547. Porch of Notre Dame de Doms, Avignon 51

548. Porch of St. Trophime, Arles 52

549. Apse of Church at Alet 53

550. Internal Angle of Apse at Alet 54

551. Elevation of half one Bay of the Exterior of St. Paul-Trois-
Châteaux 55

552. Half bay of Interior of same 55

553. Longitudinal and Cross Section of Fontifroide Church 56

554. Doorway in Church at Maguelonne 57

555. Plan of Cathedral, Vienne 58

556. Plan of Church at Planes 59

557. Tower at Puissalicon 60

558. Church at Cruas 61

559. Cloister at Fontifroide 62

560, 561. Capitals in Cloister, Elne 62

562. Plan of St. Front, Périgueux 64

563. Part of St. Front, Périgueux 65

564. Interior of Church at Souillac 67

565. Plan of Cathedral at Angoulême 68

566. One Bay of Nave, Angoulême 68

567. Plan of Church at Moissac 69

568. Plan of Cathedral at Alby 69

569. Plan of Church of the Cordeliers, at Toulouse 70

570. Section of Church of the Cordeliers 71

571. Angle of Church of the Cordeliers 71

572. Plan of St. Sernin, Toulouse 72

573. Section of St. Sernin 72

574. Plan of Church at Conques 73

575. Plan of St. Martin at Tours 74

576. Plan of Church at Charroux 75

577. Plan of St. Benigne, Dijon 75

578. St. Sernin, Toulouse 77

579. Church at Aillas 78

580. Church at Loupiac 78

581. St. Eloi, Espalion 79

582. Tomb at St. Pierre, Toulouse 80

583. Plan of Cathedral at Angers 82

584. Plan of St. Trinité, Angers 82

585. View of the Interior of Loches 83

586. Plan of Church at Fontevrault 83

587. View of Chevet at Fontevrault 84

588. Elevation of one of the Bays of the Nave at Fontevrault 84

589. Façade of Church of Notre Dame at Poitiers 85

590. Plan of Cathedral at Poitiers 86

591. Spire at Cunault 87

592. Plan of Church at Issoire 89

593. Elevation of Church at Issoire 90

594. Section of Church at Issoire, looking East 90

595. Elevation of Chevet, Notre Dame du Port, Clermont 91

596. Plan of Chevet of same 92

597. Fortified Church at Royat 93

598. Façade of Church of St. Martin d’Ainay, Lyons 95

599. Cloister of Cathedral of Le Puy-en-Velay 96

600. View of Interior of Abbey at Tournus 97

601. Plan of Abbey Church at Cluny 98

602. View in Aisle at Autun 100

603. View in Nave at Autun 100

604. Section of Narthex at Vezelay 101

605. East End, St. Menoux 102

606. Chevet, St. Menoux 103

607. Plan and Section of Basse Œuvre, Beauvais 105

608. External and Internal View of Basse Œuvre 106

609. Decoration of St. Généreux 107

610. Section of Eastern portion of Church of Montier-en-Der 108

611. Triapsal Church at Querqueville 110

612. Plan of the Church of St. Stephen, Caen 112

613. Western Façade of same 113

614. Section of Nave of same 114

615. Diagram of Vaulting of same 115

616. Elevation of Compartment of Nave of St. Stephen, Caen 115

617. Compartment, Abbaye-aux-Dames, Caen 116

618. East End of St. Nicolas, Caen 117

619. Lower Compartment, Nave, Bayeux 118

620. Plan of Cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris 132

621. Section of Side-aisles, of same 133

622. External Elevation of same 133

623. Plan of Chartres Cathedral 134

624. Plan of Rheims Cathedral 135

625. Plan of Amiens Cathedral 135

626. View of the Façade of the Cathedral at Paris 136

627. North-west View of the Cathedral at Chartres 138

628. Buttress at Chartres 139

629. Buttresses at Rheims 139

630. Bay of Nave of Beauvais Cathedral 142

631. Doorway, South Transept, Beauvais 143

632. Plan of Cathedral at Noyon 144

633. Spires of Laon Cathedral 145

634. View of Cathedral at Coutances 146

635. Lady Chapel, Auxerre 147

636. Plan of Cathedral at Troyes 148

637. Façade of Cathedral at Troyes 149

638. Window of Cathedral at Lyons 150

639. Plan of Cathedral at Bazas 150

640. Plan of Cathedral at Bourges 151

641. Section of Cathedral at Bourges 152

642. View in the Church of Charité sur Loire 154

643. Chevet, Pontigny 155

644. West Front of Ste. Marie de l’Épine 156

645. Plan of Church of St. Ouen at Rouen 157

646. Church of St. Ouen from the S.E. 158

647. Southern Porch of same 159

648. Diagram of plans of Pillars 162

649. Window, St. Martin, Paris 163

650. Window in Nave of Cathedral at Chartres 163

651. Window in Choir of Cathedral at Chartres 163

652. Window at Rheims 164

653. Window at St. Ouen 164

654. Window at Chartres 165

655. West Window, Chartres 166

656. Transept Window, Chartres 166

657. West Window, Rheims 166

658. West Window, Evreux 166

659. West Window, St. Ouen 167

660. Diagram of Vaulting 169

661. Abbey Church, Souvigny 170

662. Diagram of Buttresses 172

663. Flying Buttresses of St. Ouen 172

664. Flying Buttress at Amiens 173

665. St. Pierre, Caen 176

666. Lantern, St. Ouen, Rouen 177

667. Corbel 178

668. Capitals from Rheims 178

669. Rood-Screen from the Madeleine at Troyes 181

670. Hôtel de Ville of St. Antonin 182

671. House at Cluny 183

672. House at Yrieix 184

673. Portal of the Ducal Palace at Nancy 185

674. View of West End of Church at Nivelles 190

675. Plan of Cathedral at Tournay 191

676. Section of Central Portion of same, looking South 192

677. West Front of Notre Dame de Maestricht 192

678. Spire of the Chapel of St. Sang, Bruges 193

679. Window in Church at Villers, near Genappe 193

680. Plan of the Cathedral at Antwerp 195

681. Plan of St. Jacques, Liège 197

682. Belfry at Ghent 200

683. Cloth-hall at Ypres 201

684. Town-hall, Brussels 203

685. Part of the Bishop’s Palace, Liège 205

686. Reduction of an original plan of a Monastery at St. Gall 215

687. Plan of Church at Mittelzell, in the island of Reichenau 217

688. Elevation of West End of same 217

689. Plan of the Church of Romain-Motier 218

690. View of same 218

691. Section of Church at Granson 219

692. Plan of Church at Gernrode 220

693. View of West End of Church at Gernrode 220

694. View of West End of Abbey of Corvey 221

695. Plan of original Church at Trèves 223

696. Plan of Mediæval Church at Trèves 223

697. Western Apse of Church at Trèves 224

698. Eastern Apse of Church at Trèves 224

699. Internal View of the Church of St. Michael at Hildesheim 225

700. Plan of same 225

701. Plan of Cathedral of Worms 227

702. One Bay of Cathedral at Worms 227

703. Side Elevation of same 228

704. Plan of the Cathedral at Spires 229

705. Western Apse of Cathedral at Mayence 230

706. Church at Minden. Cathedral at Paderborn. Church at Soest 231

707. Plan of Sta. Maria in Capitolio, Cologne 232

708. Apse of the Apostles’ Church at Cologne 233

709. Apse of St. Martin’s Church at Cologne 234

710. East End of Church at Bonn 235

711. Plan of Church at Laach 236

712. View of Church at Laach 236

713. Church at Sinzig 237

714. Rood Screen at Wechselburg 238

715. Crypt at Göllingen 238

716. Façade of Church at Rosheim 239

717. Church at Marmoutier 240

718. Section of Church of Schwartz Rheindorf 241

719. View of same 242

720. Plan of Chapel at Landsberg 243

721. Section of Chapel at Landsberg 243

722. View and Plan of the Cathedral at Zurich 243

723. Doorway at Basle 244

724. Plan of Church at Aix-la-Chapelle 248

725. Church at Nymwegen 249

725a. Plan of Church at Mettlach 249

725b. Capital of Triforium of same 250

726. Church at Petersberg 251

727. Plan of Church at Fulda 251

728. Plan of Church at Drüggelte 251

729. Baptistery at Bonn 252

730. Chapel at Cobern on the Moselle 253

731. Porch of Convent at Lorsch 255

732. Arcade of the Palace at Gelnhausen 257

733. Capital, Gelnhausen 257

734. View of the Palace on the Wartburg 258

735. Cloister at Zurich 266

736. Dwelling-house, Cologne 261

737. Windows in back of same 262

738. Windows from Sion Church, Cologne 262

739. Windows from St. Quirinus at Neuss 262

740. Section of St. Gereon, Cologne 265

741. Plan of St. Gereon, Cologne 265

742. East End of Church at Gelnhausen 266

743. Plan of Church at Marburg 267

744. Section of Church at Marburg 267

745. Plan of Church at Altenberg 268

746. Plan of Cathedral at Cologne 269

747. Western Façade of Cathedral of Cologne 272

748. View of Church at Freiburg 274

749. Plan of Strasburg Cathedral 276

750. West Front of same 277

751. Plan of Ratisbon Cathedral 280

752. View of the Spire of St. Stephen’s, Vienna 281

753. Plan of the Franciscan Church at Salzburg 283

754. Plan of St. Lawrence’s Church, Nuremberg 284

755. Plan of Church at Kuttenberg, taken above the roof of the
aisles 284

756. Section of the Church of same 285

757. Plan of Church of St. Victor at Xanten 287

758. View of Marien Kirche, Mühlhausen 289

759. Plan of Marien Kirche, Mühlhausen 289

760. St. Severus Church at Erfurt 290

761. Anna Chapel at Heiligenstadt 292

762. Sacraments Häuschen, Nuremberg 293

763. Doorway of Church at Chemnitz 294

764. Schöne Brunnen at Nuremberg 296

765. Todtenleuchter, Vienna 297

766. Bay Window from St. Sebald’s Parsonage, Nuremberg 298

767. Façade of House at Brück-am-Mur 299

768. Town-hall at Brunswick 300

769. Plan of Cathedral, Lubeck 303

770. Plan of Marien Kirche, Lubeck 304

771. View of same 305

772. Tower in the Kœblinger Strasse, Hanover 306

773. Church at Frauenburg 307

774. Church at Santoppen 308

775. Façade of Marien Kirche, Brandenburg 309

776. Façade of the Knight-hall in the Castle of Marienburg 310

777. Plan of Upsala Cathedral 314

778. Apse of Lund Cathedral 315

779. Old Country Church and Belfry 316

780. Plan of Cathedral of Trondhjem 317

781. View of Cathedral of Trondhjem 318

782. Elevation of Domkirche: Roeskilde 319

783. Plan of same 319

784. Frue Kirche, Aarhuus 319

785. Church of Kallundborg 320

786. Helge-Anders Church, Wisby 322

787. Interior of Church at Gothem 323

788. Folö Church, Gothland 324

789. Portal, Sandeo Church, Gothland 325

790. Portal, Hoäte Church, Gothland 326

791. View of Round Church, Thorsager, Jutland 327

792. Section and Ground-plan of same 328

793. Round Church of Oester Larsker, Bornholm 329

794. View and plan of Hagby Church, Sweden 330

795. Läderbro Church and Wapenhus, Gothland 331

796. Plan of Church at Hitterdal 332

797. View of Church at Hitterdal 333

798. Church of Urnes, Norway 334

799. Tower of Earl’s Barton Church 341

800. Windows, Earl’s Barton 342

801. Saxon Doorway at Monkwearmouth 343

802. Plan of Norwich Cathedral 346

803. Plan of Canterbury Cathedral 347

804. Plan of Durham Cathedral 348

805. Plan of Salisbury Cathedral 349

806. Plan of Winchester Cathedral 350

807. Plan of Ely Cathedral 351

808. Octagon at Ely Cathedral 352

809. Plan of Westminster Abbey 354

810. Nave of Peterborough Cathedral 357

811. Nave of Lincoln Cathedral 359

812. Nave of Lichfield Cathedral 360

813. Choir of Gloucester Cathedral 361

814. Diagrams of Vaulting 362

815. Vault of Cloister, Gloucester 363

816. Vault of Aisle at St. George’s, Windsor 364

817. Aisle in Henry VII.’s Chapel, Westminster 364

818. Retro-choir, Peterborough Cathedral 365

819. Choir Arches of Oxford Cathedral 366

820. Transformation of the Nave, Winchester Cathedral 368

821. Choir of Ely Cathedral 369

822. Two Bays of the Nave of Westminster Abbey 370

823. One Bay of Cathedral at Exeter 370

824. The Five Sisters Window, York 372

825. Ely Cathedral, East End 373

826. Lancet Window, Hereford Cathedral 374

827. East End of Lincoln Cathedral 375

828. North Transept Window, Lincoln 376

829. Window in Chapter-house at York, English Geometric
Tracery 377

830. Window in St. Anselm’s Chapel, Canterbury 377

831. East Window of Carlisle Cathedral 378

832. South Transept Window, Lincoln 378

833. Perpendicular Tracery, Winchester Cathedral 379

834. Salisbury Cathedral, from the N.E. 381

835. View of Lichfield Cathedral 382

836. Lincoln Cathedral 383

837. View of the Angel Tower and Chapter-house, Canterbury 384

838. West Front of Peterborough Cathedral 385

839. Chapter-house, Bristol 389

840. Chapter-house, Salisbury 390

841. Chapter-house, Wells 391

842. Chapter-house, York 392

843. Internal Elevation of St. Stephen’s Chapel, Westminster 394

844. Plan of Ste. Chapelle, Paris 395

845. Plan of St. Stephen’s. Westminster 395

846. Interior View of King’s College Chapel, Cambridge 396

847. Plan of Circular Church at Little Maplestead 398

848. Spire of Great Leighs Church, Essex 398

849. Tower of Little Saxham Church, Suffolk 398

850. Roof at Trunch Church 400

851. Roof of Aisle in New Walsingham Church 400

852. Plan of Church of Walpole St. Peter’s, Norfolk 401

853. Staircase at Canterbury Cathedral 402

854. Norman Gateway, College Green, Bristol 403

855. Capitals, &c., of Doorway leading to the Choir Aisles,
Lincoln 404

856. West Doorway, Lichfield Cathedral 405

857. Tomb of Bishop Marshall, Exeter Cathedral 405

858. The Triple Canopy in Heckington Church, Lincolnshire 406

859. Prior d’Estria’s Screen, Canterbury Cathedral 406

860. Doorway of Chapter-house, Rochester Cathedral 407

861. Tomb of the Black Prince, Canterbury Cathedral 408

862. Tomb of Edward III. in Westminster Abbey 409

863. Tomb of Edward II. in Gloucester Cathedral 410

864. Tomb of Bishop Redman in Ely Cathedral 411

865. Waltham Cross (restored) 412

866. Plan of Westminster Hall 414

867. Section of Westminster Hall 414

868. Hall of Palace at Eltham 415

869. Window, Leuchars 420

870. Pier-Arch, Jedburgh 421

871. Arches in Kelso Abbey 422

872. Plan and three Bays of Choir, Kirkwall Cathedral 423

873. North Side of the Cathedral at Kirkwall 424

874. 1. Plan of Glasgow Cathedral. 2. Plan of Crypt, Glasgow
Cathedral 425

875. View in Crypt of Glasgow Cathedral 426

876. Crypt of Cathedral at Glasgow 427

877. Clerestory Window, Glasgow Cathedral 427

878. East End of Glasgow Cathedral 428

879. East End, Elgin Cathedral 429

880. South Transept, Elgin Cathedral 430

881. Ornament of Doorway of same 430

882. Plan of Elgin Cathedral 431

883. Aisle in Melrose Abbey 432

884. East Window, Melrose 433

885. Chapel at Roslyn 434

886. Under Chapel, Roslyn 434

887. Stone Roof of Bothwell Church 435

888. Exterior of Roof of Bothwell Church 435

889, 890. Ornamental Arcades, from Holyrood 436

891. Interior of Porch, Dunfermline 437

892. Window at Dunkeld 438

893. Doorway, Linlithgow 439

894. Doorway, St. Giles’s, Edinburgh 440

895. Doorway, Pluscardine Abbey 441

896. Window in Tower, Iona 441

897. Aisle in Trinity College Church, Edinburgh 442

898. Cloister, Kilconnel Abbey 445

899. Oratory, Innisfallen, Killarney 447

900. Cormac’s Chapel, Cashel 448

901. Section of Chapel, Killaloe 448

902. St. Kevin’s Kitchen, Glendalough 449

903. Doorway in Tower at Um Rasas 451

904. Round Tower and Chancel Arch of Fineens Church,
Clonmacnoise 452

905. Doorway in Tower, Kildare 452

906. Doorway in Tower, Donoughmore, Meath 453

907. Doorway in Tower, Antrim 453

908. Tower, Devenish 453

909. Tower, Kilree, Kilkenny 453

910. Tower, Kinneth, Cork 454

911. Tower, Ardmore 454

912. Floor in Tower, Kinneth 455

913. Doorway, Monasterboice 455

914. Doorway, Kilcullen, Kildare 455

915. Windows in Round Towers 455

916. Window, Glendalough 455

917. Oratory of Gallerus 457

918. Tower, Jerpoint Abbey 457

919. House, Galway 458

920. Ballyromney Court, Cork 458

921. Cross at Kells 459

922. View of Church at Naranco 465

923. Plan of Church at Naranco 465

924. Plan of S. Pablo 466

925. Detail of S. Pablo 466

926. Church at Roda 466

927. Panteon of St. Isidoro, Leon 467

928. Plan of Santiago di Compostella 468

929. Santiago Cathedral. Interior of South Transept, looking
North-East 469

930. Interior of S. Isidoro, Leon 470

931. Cathedral at Zamora 471

932. Collegiate Church at Toro 472

933. Lérida Old Cathedral. Door of South Porch 473

934. San Vincente, Avila. Interior of Western Porch 474

935. Exterior of Lantern, Salamanca Old Cathedral 475

936. Section of Cimborio at Salamanca 476

937. Plan of St. Milan, Segovia 476

938. Tarragona Cathedral. View across Transepts 477

939. Church of the Templars at Segovia 478

940. Plan of Cathedral at Toledo 479

941. View in the Choir of the Cathedral at Toledo 480

942. Plan of Burgos Cathedral 481

943. West Front of Burgos Cathedral 482

944. Plan of Leon Cathedral 483

945. Bay of Choir, Leon Cathedral 484

946. Compartment of Nave, Burgos Cathedral 484

947. Plan of Cathedral at Barcelona 485

948. Sta. Maria del Mar, Barcelona 486

949. Sta. Maria del Pi, Barcelona 486

950. Interior of Collegiate Church, Manresa 487

951. Plan of Cathedral at Gerona 488

952. Interior of Cathedral at Gerona, looking East 489

953. Cimborio of Cathedral at Valencia 490

954. Plan of Cathedral at Seville 491

955. Plan of Cathedral at Segovia 493

956. Section of Church at Villena 493

957. Plan of Sta. Maria la Bianca 495

958. Interior of Sta. Maria la Bianca 496

959. Apse of St. Bartolomeo 497

960. Chapel at Humanejos 498

961. Tower at Ilescas 499

962. St. Paul, Saragoza 500

963. Doorway from Valencia 501

964. Cloister of the Huelgas, near Burgos 502

965. Cloister, Tarazona 503

966. The Casa Lonja, Valencia 504

967. Castle of Cocos, Castille 505

968. Plan of the Church at Batalha 508

969. Portal at Belem 510

970. Plan of the Mosque el-Aksah at Jerusalem 517

971. View in the Mosque el-Aksah 518

972. Plan of the Dome of the Rock (Mosque of Omar) 520

973. View in Aisle of same 521

974. Capital in Dome of the Rock 521

975. Order of the Dome of the Rock 522

976. Plan of Mosque at Damascus 523

977. Plan of Mosque of Amru, Old Cairo 526

978. Arches in the Mosque of Amru 527

979. Mosque of Ibn Tooloon at Cairo 528

980. Window in Mosque of same 529

981. Plan of Mosque of Sultan Hassan, Cairo 531

982. Section of same 532

983. Plan of Mosque and Tombs of Sultan Berkook, Cairo 533

984. Section of Mosque of Berkook 533

985. Mosque of Kaitbey 535

986. Plan of Great Mosque at Mecca 537

987. Plan of Great Mosque of Kerouan 538

988. Main Entrance in Court of same 539

989. Minaret at Tunis 540

990. Plan of Mosque of Cordoba 544

991. Interior of Sanctuary at Cordoba 545

992. Exterior of the Sanctuary, Cordoba 546

993. Screen of the Chapel of Villa Viciosa, Mosque of Cordoba 547

994. Church of San Cristo de la Luz, Toledo 548

995. The Giralda at Seville 550

996. Plan of the Alhambra, Granada 552

997. Plan of Suleimanie Mosque 559

998. Section of Suleimanie Mosque 560

999. View of Suleimanie Mosque 561

1000. Plan of Ahmedjie Mosque 563

1001. Plan of Tomb of Zobeidé, Bagdad 568

1002. View of Tomb of Zobeidé 568

1003. Tomb of Ezekiel, near Bagdad 569

1004. Imaret of Oulou Diami at Erzeroum 570

1005. Plan of Mosque of Tabreez 572

1006. View of Ruined Mosque at Tabreez 573

1007. Tomb of Sultan Khodabendah at Sultanieh 574

1008. Section of the Tomb at Sultanieh 574

1009. View of the Tomb at Sultanieh 575

1010. Plan of Great Mosque at Ispahan 576

1011. Madrissa of Sultan Husein at Ispahan 578

1012. Throne-room at Teheran 579

1013. Palace at Ispahan 580

1014. Pavilion in the Khan’s Palace at Khiva 581

1015. Pyramid of Oajaca, Tehuantepec 590

1016. Plan of the Temple at Mitla 591

1017. View of the Palace at Mitla 592

1018. Elevation of Teocalli at Palenque 594

1019. Plan of Temple 594

1020. Elevation of Building at Chunjuju 596

1021. Elevation of part of Palace at Zayi 596

1022. Plan of Palace at Zayi 597

1023. Casa de las Monjas, Uxmal 597

1024. Interior of a Chamber, Uxmal 598

1025. Apartment at Chichen Itza 599

1026. Diagram of Mexican construction 599

1027. Ruined Gateway at Tia Huanacu 601

1028. Gateway at Tia Huanacu 602

1029. Tombs at Sillustani 603

1030. Ruins of House of Manco Capac in Cuzco 604

1031. House of the Virgins of the Sun 605

1032. Peruvian Tombs 606

1033. Elevation of Wall of Tambos 606

1034. Sketch Plans of the Walls of Cuzco 607

1035. View of Walls of Cuzco 607

FRONTISPIECE TO PART II.

(Continued.)

VIEW OF COLOGNE CATHEDRAL.

(From Rosengarten.)

HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE.

PART II.—CHRISTIAN ARCHITECTURE.

Continued.

BOOK II.

ITALY.—Continued.

CHAPTER VII.

CONTENTS.

Circular churches—Towers at Prato and Florence—Porches—Civic
buildings—Town-halls—Venice—Doge’s palace—Cà d’Oro—
Conclusion.

Circular Buildings.

There are very few specimens in Italy of circular or polygonal buildings of
any class belonging to the Gothic age. As churches, none are to be
expected. Baptisteries had passed out of fashion. One such building, at
Parma, commenced in 1196, deserves to be quoted, not certainly for its
beauty, but as illustrating those false principles of design shown in every
part of every building of this age in Italy. Externally the building is an
octagon, six storeys in height, the four upper ones being merely used to
conceal a dome, which is covered by a low-pitched wooden roof. The
lowest and the highest storeys are solid, the others are galleries supported
by little ill-shaped columns. It is probable that this was not the original
design of the architect, Antelami. No doubt he intended to conceal the
dome, or at all events to cover it, as was the universal practice in Italy; but
instead of a mere perpendicular wall, as here used, the external outline
should have assumed a conical form, which might have rendered it as
pleasing as it is now awkward. We have no instance of a circular building
carried out by Italian architects according to their own principles
sufficiently far to enable us to judge what they were capable of in this style,
unless perhaps it be the tombs of the Scaligers at Verona. These take the
circular or polygonal form appropriate to tombs, but are on so small a scale
that they might rather be called crosses than mausolea; and though

illustrating all the best principles of Italian design, and evincing an
exuberance of exquisite ornament, they can hardly be regarded as important
objects of high art. It is only from small buildings like these that we may
recover the principles of this art as practised in Italy. Not being, like the
Northern styles, a progressive national effort, but generally an individual
exertion, if the first architect died during the progress of a larger building,
no one knew exactly how he had intended to finish it, and its completion
was entrusted to the caprice and fancy of some other man, which he
generally indulged, wholly regardless of its incongruity with the work of his
predecessor.

513. Baptistery, Parma. Scale 100 ft. to 1
in.

Towers.

The Italians in the age of pointed architecture were hardly more
successful in their towers than in their other buildings, except that a tower,
from its height, must always be a striking object, and, if both massive and
high, cannot fail to have a certain imposing appearance, of which no
clumsiness on the part of the architect can deprive it. Such towers as the
Asinelli and Garisenda at Bologna possess no more architectural merit than
the chimneys of our factories. Most of those subsequently erected were
better than these, but still the Italians never caught the true idea of a spire.

Throughout the whole
of the Middle Ages they
retained their affection for
the original rectangular
form, making their towers
as broad at the summit as
at the base. With very few
exceptions, they are
without buttresses, or any
projection on the angles,
to aid in giving them even
an appearance of support.
In consequence, when a
spire was placed on such
an edifice it always fitted
awkwardly. The art by
which a tower was
prepared for its
termination, first by the
graduated buttresses at its
base, then by the strongly
marked vertical lines of
its upper portion, and
above all by the circle of
spirelets at the top, out of
which the central spire
shot up as an absolute
514. Baptistery at Parma, half Section, half necessity of the
Elevation. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in. composition—this art, so
dear and so familiar to the
Northern builders, was
never understood by the Italians. If they, on the contrary, placed an octagon
on their square towers, it looked like an accident for which nothing was
prepared, and the spire was separated from it only by bold horizontal
cornices, instead of by vertical lines, as true taste dictated.

515. View of the Duomo at Prato. (From Wiebeking.)

In fact, the Italians seem to have benefited less by the experience or
instruction of their Northern neighbours in tower-building than in any other
feature of the style, and to have retained their old forms in these after they
had abandoned them in other parts of their churches.
The typical tower of its class is the Torracio of Cremona. It is a
monumental tower commenced in 1296 to commemorate a peace made
between Cremona and the neighbouring states after a long and tedious
contest for supremacy. It is not an ecclesiastical edifice, but partakes,
therefore, like those of St. Mark, Venice, and of Modena, more of the
character of a civic belfry than of a church tower, such as those previously
mentioned. It is the highest and largest, and consequently, according to the
usual acceptation of the term the finest, of Italian towers. Its whole height is

396 ft., about two-thirds of which is a square ungainly mass, without either
design or ornament of any importance. On this is placed an octagon and
spire, which, though in themselves perhaps the best specimens of their class
in Italy, have too little connection either in design or dimensions with the
tower on which they stand.
The celebrated tower of the Ghirlandina at
Modena is, perhaps, one of the best to enable
us to compare these Italian towers with the
Cis-Alpine ones, since it possesses a well-
proportioned spire, which is found in few of
the others. From its date it belongs to the
second division of the subject, having been
commenced in the 13th and finished in the
14th century; but, as before remarked, there is
no line of distinction between the round-
arched and pointed-arched styles in Italy, and
though this campanile seems to be wholly
without any pointed forms, we may describe
it here.

516. Torracio at Cremona.
(From Gally Knight.)

517. Campanile, Palazzo
Scaligeri, Verona. (From Street.)

Its whole height is about 315 ft., of which less than 200 are taken up in
the square part—which thus bears a less predominant proportion to the spire
than any other Italian example. It is evidently meant to rival the famous
German spires which had become such favourites in the age in which it was
built; and although it avoids many of the errors into which the excessive
love of decoration and of tours de force led the Germans, still the result is
far from satisfactory. The change from the square to the octagon is abrupt

and unpleasing, and the spire itself looks too thick for the octagon.
Everywhere there is a want of those buttresses and pinnacles with which the
Gothic architects knew so well how to prepare for a transition of form, and
to satisfy the mind that the composition was not only artistically but
mechanically correct. The Italians never comprehended the aspiring
principle of the Gothic styles, and consequently, though they had far more
elegance of taste and used better details, their works hardly satisfy the mind
to a greater extent than a modern classical church or museum.
The same remarks apply to the towers of Siena, Lucca, Pistoja, and
indeed to all in the North of Italy: all have some pleasing points, but none
are entirely satisfactory. None have sufficient ornament, or display enough
design, to render them satisfactory in detail, nor have they sufficient mass to
enable them to dispense with the evidence of thought, and to impress by the
simple grandeur of their dimensions.
The towers of Asti (1266) and Siena (rebuilt in 1389) are illustrated in
Woodcuts Nos. 493 and 498. They certainly display but little art. A more
pleasing specimen is the tower (Woodcut No. 515) attached to the Duomo
at Prato (about 1312), which may be considered as a specimen of the very
best class of Italian tower-design of the age, although in fact its only merit
consists in the increase in the size of the openings in every storey upwards,
so as to give a certain degree of lightness to the upper part. On this side of
the Alps the same effect was generally attained by diminishing the diameter.
When a spire is to be added, that is the only admissible mode; but when the
building is to be crowned by a cornice, as at Prato, the mode there adopted
is perhaps preferable.
The tower which is attached to the palace of the Scaligeri at Verona
(Woodcut No. 517) is perhaps as graceful as any other, and as characteristic
of the Italian principles of tower-building. The lower part is absolutely plain
and solid, the upper storey alone being pierced with one splendid three-light
window in each face, with a boldly projecting cornice over it marking the
roof. On this is placed an octagonal lantern two storeys in height. Had the
lower portion of the lantern been broken by turrets or pinnacles at the
angles, the effect would have been greatly improved. As it is, it seems only
a makeshift to eke out the height of the whole; though the octagon with its
boldly projecting cornice is as graceful as anything of the kind in Italian
architecture.

The campanile attached to the church of
St. Andrea at Mantua (Woodcut No. 518) is
more nearly Gothic both in design and
details. Its vertical lines are strongly
marked, and the string-courses and cornices
are of moulded brickwork, which is a
pleasing and characteristic feature in the
architecture of Lombardy.
The worst part of this design is the
smallness of the octagon and spire, and the
unconnected mode in which they are placed
on the roof of the tower.
The typical example of the Italian towers
is that erected close to the Duomo at
Florence from designs by Giotto,
commenced in 1324, and considerably
advanced, if not nearly finished, at the time
of his death, two years afterwards.

518. Campanile, S. Andrea,
Mantua. (From Street.)

519. Campanile at
Florence. (From
Gailhabaud.) Scale
50 ft. to 1 in.

Though hardly worthy of the praise which has been lavished on it, it is
certainly a very beautiful building. Being covered with ornament from the
base to the summit, it has not that nakedness which is the reproach of so
many others, and the octagonal projections at the angles give it considerable
relief. Besides this, the openings are very pleasingly graduated. It is

virtually solid for about one-third of its height. The middle division consists
of two storeys, each with two windows, while the upper part is lighted by
one bold opening on each face, as at Prato. All this is good. One great
defect of the composition is its parallelism. The slightest expansion of the
base would have given it great apparent stability, which its height requires.
Another fault is its being divided by too strongly marked horizontal courses
into distinct storeys, instead of one division falling by imperceptible
degrees into the other, as in the Northern towers. It has yet another defect in
common with the Duomo, to which it belongs, namely, the false character
of its ornamentation, which chiefly consists of a veneer of party-coloured
slabs of marble,—beautiful in itself, but objectionable as not forming a part
of the apparent construction.
The tower now rises to a height of 269 ft., and it was intended to have
added a spire of about 90 ft. to this; but unless it had been more gracefully
managed than is usual in Italy, the tower is certainly better without it. There
is nothing to suggest a spire in the part already executed, nor have we any
reason to believe that Giotto understood the true principles of spire-building
better than his contemporaries.

Porches.

Another feature very characteristic of the Gothic style in Italy is to be
found in the porches attached to the churches. Generally they are placed on
the flanks, and form side-entrances, and in most instances they were added
after the completion of the body of the building, and consequently seldom
accord in style with it. One has already been illustrated as attached to the
church at Asti (Woodcut No. 493); another (Woodcut No. 501), belonging
to the church of Sta. Maria dei Fiori at Florence, is an integral and beautiful
part of the design.
One of the most characteristic specimens of the class in all Italy is that
attached to the northern flank of the church of Sta. Maria Maggiore at
Bergamo (Woodcut No. 520). The principal archway and the doorway
within it are circular in form, although built in the middle of the 14th
century, and are ornamented with trefoils and other details of the age.
Above this are three trefoiled arches, the central one containing an
equestrian statue of a certain Duke Lupus, at whose expense the porch was

probably built, and above these is a little pagoda-like pavilion containing
statues of the Virgin and Child.
The whole design is so unconstructive that it depends more on the iron
ties that are everywhere inserted to hold it together than on any system of
thrusts or counterpoises, which a true Gothic architect would certainly have
supplied.

520. North Porch, Sta. Maria
Maggiore, Bergamo. (From Street’s
‘Brick and Marble of the Middle
Ages.’)

The two main pillars rest on lions, as is universally the case in these
porches throughout Italy, though rarely found elsewhere.
Like most of these Italian porches, this one will not stand criticism as a
purely architectural object; but its details are so beautiful and its colours so
fascinating that it pleases in spite of all its defects of design, and is more
characteristic of the truly native feeling shown in the treatment of the
pointed style of architecture than the more ambitious examples which were
erected under direct foreign influence.

Civic Buildings.

The free towns of Italy required civic buildings almost to the same extent
as the contemporary cities in Belgium, though not quite of the same class.
Their commerce, for instance, did not require trade halls, but no town was
without its town-hall, or palazzo pubblico, and belfry. The intrinsic
difficulty of the designing of buildings of this class, as compared with
churches, has already been pointed out. It cannot therefore be expected that
the Italians, who failed in the easier task, should have succeeded in the
harder. The town-hall at Siena is perhaps the best existing example, most of
the others having been so altered that it is difficult to judge of their original
effect. This must be pronounced to be a very poor architectural
performance, flat and unmeaning, and without any lines or style of
ornament to group the windows together into one composition, so that they
are mere scattered openings in the wall.
That at Perugia seems originally to have been better, though now greatly
disfigured. At Florence the Palazzo Vecchio is more of a feudal fortalice
(required, it must be confessed, to keep the turbulent citizens in order) than
the municipal palace of a peaceful community. In Ferrara and other cities
the palazzo pubblico is really and virtually a fortress and nothing else.
At Piacenza it consists of a range of bold pointed stone arches,
supporting an upper storey of brick, adorned with a range of circular-headed
windows, richly ornamented, and a pleasing specimen of the mode in which
the Italians avoided the difficulty of filling the upper parts of their windows
with tracery (which they never liked) and at the same time rendered them
ornamental externally.

At Padua and Vicenza are two great halls supported on arcades, in
intention like that of Piacenza, but far from possessing its beauty. That at
Padua remains in all its pristine ugliness, as hideous an erection as any
perpetrated in the Middle Ages. The hall is one of the largest in Europe,
measuring 240 ft. in length by 84 in width (Westminster Hall is 238×67),
but wholly without ornament or beauty of proportion. Externally the
arcades that are stuck to its sides do not relieve its mass, and are not
beautiful in themselves. That at Vicenza, though originally very similar, has
been fortunate in having its outside clothed in one of Palladio’s most
successful designs,—perhaps the only instance in which an addition of that
age and style has improved a building of the Gothic period. Comparing this
hall as it stands with that at Padua, it must be admitted that the Italians were
perfectly correct in abandoning their Gothic for the revived classical style,
the improvement being apparent on the most cursory inspection.

521. Palace of the Jurisconsults at Cremona.
(From Street.)

A number of the town-halls or Brolettos in the smaller towns still remain
unaltered, or nearly so, and retain all the peculiarities of their original
design. The Palace of the Jurisconsults at Cremona for instance (Woodcut
No. 521) only requires its lower arcades to be again opened to present all its
original features, which resemble in almost every respect those of the
palazzo at Piacenza above mentioned, except that the latter has five arches
below and six windows above, instead of two and three as here shown. This
building is wholly of brick, like most other civic buildings in the North of
Italy. Sometimes, as at Piacenza, they are of stone below and brick in the
upper storeys. Sometimes, though rarely, they are entirely faced with party-
coloured marbles like the Broletto at Como (Woodcut No. 522), which,
though not extensive, is a very beautiful specimen of the best form of civic
architecture of the best age in the North of Italy, and standing as it does
between the cathedral on the one hand and its own rude old belfry on the
other, makes up an extremely pleasing group.[1]

522. Broletto at Como. (From Street.)

One of the most important buildings of this style is the Great Hospital,
Milan. It was founded in the year 1456, and consequently belongs to an age
when the style was dying out. It still retains more of the pointed style and of
Gothic feeling than could have been found in any city farther south, or in
any one less impregnated, as it were, with German blood and feeling.

523. Ornamental Brickwork from the Broletto at
Brescia. (From Street.)

Almost all the windows in the part originally erected are pointed in form
and divided by mullions. Their principal ornament consists of garlands of
flowers interspersed with busts and masks and figures of Cupids, which
surround the windows, or run along the string-courses. The whole of these
are in terra-cotta, and make up a style of ornamentation as original as it is
beautiful. It is besides purely local, and far superior to the best copies of
Northern details, or to the misapplied forms of Gothic architecture which
are so common in Italy.
There is perhaps nothing in the North of Italy so worthy of admiration
and study, as the way in which moulded bricks of various kinds are used for
decoration, especially in the civic buildings, and also occasionally in the
churches. Sublimity is not perhaps to be attained in brickwork; the parts are
too small; and if splendour is aimed at, it may require some larger and more
costly material to produce the desired effect; but there is no beauty of detail
or of design on a small scale that may not be obtained by the use of
moulded bricks, which are in themselves far more durable, and, if carefully
burnt, retain their sharpness of outline longer, than most kinds of stone.
The most common way in which the Italians used this material was by
repeating around their openings or along their cornices small copies of
Gothic details, as in this example from a circular window in the Broletto at

Brescia (Woodcut No. 523). Where the details are small and designed with
taste, the effect is almost equal to stone; but where the details are
themselves on a large scale, as is sometimes the case, the smallness of the
materials becomes apparent. Even in this example the semi-quatrefoils of
the principal band are too large for the other details, though not sufficiently
so to be offensive.
Though not so rich, the effect is almost
equally pleasing where the brick is
merely moulded on its edge, without any
very direct repetition of Gothic details, as
in the upper part of the window shown in
Woodcut No. 524, from the cathedral of
Monza. Where great depth is given so as
to obtain shadow, and long tiles are used
for the upper arch, as was done by the
Romans, an appearance of strength and
solidity is given to the construction
unsurpassed by that obtained in any other
material.
Perhaps the most pleasing application
of terra-cotta ornaments is where bricks
of different colours are used so as to
produce by variety of pattern that relief
which cannot so well be given by depth
524. Window from the of shadow—a perfectly legitimate mode
Cathedral of Monza. (From of ornament when so small a material is
Street.) used, and when beauty only, not
sublimity, is aimed at.
This is sometimes produced in Italy by
introducing stone of a different colour among the bricks, as in the two
examples from Verona (Woodcuts Nos. 525, 526); and where this mode of
ornamentation is carried throughout the building, the effect is very pleasing.
It is difficult, however, so to proportion the two materials as to produce
exactly the effect aimed at, and seldom that the objection does not present
itself of too much or too little stone being used. The want of shadow in
brick architecture is most felt in the cornices, where sufficient projection

cannot be obtained. The defect might be easily and legitimately got over by
the employment of stone in the upper members of the cornice, but this
expedient seems never to have been resorted to.

525. Windows from Verona. (From Street.) 526.

There are few of these brick buildings of the North of Italy which are not
open to just criticism for defects of design or detail, but this may arise from
the circumstance that they all belong to an age when the Italians were using
a style which was not their own, and employing ornaments of which they
understood neither the origin nor the application. The defects certainly do
not appear to be at all inherent in the material, and, judging from the
experience of the Italians, were we to make the attempt in a proper spirit,
we might create with it a style far surpassing anything we now practise.

Venice.

The most beautiful specimens of the civil and domestic architecture of
Italy in the Gothic period are probably to be found in Venice, the richest and
most peaceful of Italian cities during the Middle Ages. It is necessary to
speak of the buildings of Venice, or more correctly, of the Venetian
Province, by themselves, since its architecture is quite distinct both in origin
and character from any other found in Northern Italy. It was not derived

from the old Lombard Round Gothic, but from the richer and more graceful
Byzantine. True to its parentage, it partook in after ages far more of the
Southern Saracenic style than of the Northern Gothic; still it cannot be
classed as either Byzantine or Saracenic, but only as Gothic treated with an
Eastern feeling, and enriched with many details borrowed from Eastern
styles.

527. Central Part of the Façade of the Doge’s
Palace, Venice. (From Cicognara.)

The largest and most prominent civic example of Venetian Gothic is the
Doge’s Palace (Woodcut No. 527), first built in the commencement of the
9th century, burnt down in 976 and 1106, rebuilt 1116, and restored and
enlarged by Ziani, whose work was gradually pulled down between 1300
and 1424 to make way for the existing Palace (or at least the Gothic portion
of it facing the sea and the Piazzetta). The earliest portion is the S.E. angle.
The S.W. angle was built about 1340, down to the tenth column (ground
storey); the remainder, including the Porta della Carta (about 1424), was
erected by Bartolomeo Bon and his son, the architects of the Cà d’Oro.

Though many people are inclined to consider its general effect
unsatisfactory, an attempt has recently been made to exalt it above the
Parthenon, and all that was great and beautiful in Greece, Egypt, or Gothic
Europe. There are indeed few buildings of which it is so difficult to judge
calmly, situated as it is, attached to the basilica of St. Mark, facing the
beautiful library of Sansovino, and looking on the one hand into the piazza
of St. Mark’s, and on the other across the water to the churches and palaces
that cover the islands. It is, in fact, the centre of the most beautiful
architectural group that adorns any city of Europe, or of the world—richer
than almost any other building in historical associations, and in a locality
hallowed, especially to an Englishman, by the poetry of Shakespeare. All
this spreads a halo around and over the building, which may furnish ample
excuse for those who blindly praise even its deformities. But the soberer
judgment of the critic must not be led astray by such feelings, and while
giving credit for the picturesque situation of this building and a certain
grandeur in its design, he is compelled wholly to condemn its execution.
The two arcades which constitute the base are, from their extent and the
beauty of their details, as fine as anything of their class executed during the
Middle Ages. There is also a just and pleasing proportion between the
simple solidity of the lower, and the airy—perhaps slightly fantastic—
lightness of the upper of these arcades. Had what appears to have been the
original design been carried out, the building would rank high with the
Alhambra and the palaces of Persia and India; but in an evil hour, in 1480, it
was discovered that larger rooms were required than had been originally
contemplated, and the upper wall, which was intended to stand on the back
wall of the arcades, was brought forward level with the front overpowering
the part below by its ill-proportioned mass.[2] This upper storey too is far
from being beautiful in itself: the windows in it are not only far too few, but
they are badly spaced, squat, and ungraceful; while the introduction of
smaller windows and circles mars its pretensions to simplicity without
relieving its plainness. Its principal ornaments are two great windows, one
in the centre of each face, which appear to have assumed their present form
after the fire in 1578. These are not graceful objects in themselves, and
having nothing in common with the others, they look too like insertions to
produce an entirely satisfactory effect. The pierced parapet, too, is poor and
flimsy when seen against the sky. Had it crowned the upper arcade, and
been backed by the third storey, it would have been as pleasing as it is now

poor. Had the upper storey been set back, as was probably originally
designed, or had it been placed on the ground and the arcades over it; had,
in short, any arrangement of the parts been adopted but the one that exists,
this might have been a far more beautiful building than it is. One thing in
this palace is worth remarking before leaving it—that almost all the beauty
ascribed to its upper storey arises from the polychromatic mode of
decoration introduced by disposing pieces of different coloured marbles in
diaper patterns. This is better done here than in Florence; inasmuch as the
slabs are built in, not stuck on. The admiration which it excites is one more
testimony to the fact that when a building is coloured, ninety-nine people in
a hundred are willing to overlook all its faults, and to extol that as beautiful,
which without the adjunct of colour they would have unanimously agreed in
condemning.

528. Cà d’Oro, Venice. (From Cicognara.)

A better specimen of the style, because erected as designed, and
remaining nearly as erected, is the Cà d’Oro (Woodcut No. 528),[3] built in
the first years of the 15th century, contemporary with the piazzetta part of
the ducal palace. It has no trace of the high roofs or aspiring tendencies of
the Northern buildings of the same age, no boldly-marked buttresses in
strong vertical lines, but, on the contrary flat sky lines and horizontal
divisions pervade the design, and every part is ornamented with a fanciful
richness far more characteristic of the luxurious refinement of the East than
of the manlier appreciation of the higher qualities of art which distinguished
the contemporary erections on this side of the Alps.
The blank space between the battlements (which belong to the first
building) and the string-course would seem to have been decorated with a
series of twenty-six cusped arches, forming niches (shown in a mezzotint
drawing dated 1800)[4] and surmounted by an upper string-course projecting
in front of the battlements, thus crowning the building in a more satisfactory
way than at present. The house was built for Signor Marino Contarini,
Procurator of Venice, its original title being the Palace of Sta. Sophia.
The palaces known as the Foscari and Pisani are very similar in design to
that of Cà d’Oro, though less rich and less happy in the distribution of the
parts; but time has restored to them that colour which was an inherent part
of the older design, and they are so beautiful and so interesting that it is
hard to criticise even their too apparent defects as works of art. Most of the
faults that strike us in the buildings of Venice arise from the defective
knowledge which they betray of constructive principles. The Venetian
architects had not been brought up in the hard school of practical
experience, nor thoroughly grounded in construction, as the Northern
architects were by the necessities of the large buildings which they erected.
On the contrary, they merely adopted details because they were pretty, and
used them so as to be picturesque in domestic edifices, where convenience
was everything, and construction but a secondary consideration. For
instance, the window here shown (Woodcut No. 529) cannot fail to give the
building in which it occurs an appearance of weakness and insecurity quite
inexcusable in spite of its external picturesqueness or its internal
convenience.

529. Angle Window at Venice.
(From Street.)

530. Ponte del Paradiso, Venice. (From
Street.)

The same remark applies to the screen (Woodcut No. 530) above the
Ponte del Paradiso, which, though useless and unconstructive to the last
degree, by its picturesque design and elegant details arrests all travellers.
Indeed it is impossible to see it without admiring it, though, if imitated
elsewhere, it could hardly be saved from being ridiculous.
Both these examples are surrounded by a curious dentil moulding which
is found throughout St. Mark’s, and the origin of which must be sought for
in St. Sophia at Constantinople, though it is better known as the Venetian
dentil.
There are, besides these, many smaller palaces and houses of the Gothic
age, all more or less beautiful, and all presenting some detail or some happy

arrangement well worthy of study, and usually more refined and more
beautiful than those of the rude but picturesque dwellings of the burghers of
Bruges or Nuremberg.
The mixed Gothic style which we have been describing appears to have
exerted a considerable effect on the subsequent palatial architecture of
Venice, even after classical details had become generally fashionable. The
arrangement of the façades remained nearly the same down to a very late
period; and even when the so-called return to classical forms took place,
many details of the previous style were here retained, which was not the
case in any other part of Europe.
Domestic work of similar character to that of Venice is found in some of
the Dalmatian towns, and in the Islands of Quarnero. At Ragusa, in
Dalmatia, is a palace built in 1430, according to Mr. Jackson, from the
designs of Master Onofrio Giordani de la Cava, a Neapolitan, but altered
and rebuilt by Michelozzo in 1464, after the fire and explosion in 1462. The
arcade of the ground storey had originally pointed arches, but in the
rebuilding these were replaced by circular arches, some of the earlier
capitals being utilised in the later structure. Drawings are given in Mr.
Jackson’s work. The courtyards of this palace and of the Sponza in the same
town are interesting examples of domestic work.

CHAPTER VIII.

SICILY.

CONTENTS.
Population of Sicily—The Saracens—Buildings at Palermo—Cathedral of
Monreale Cefalu—The Pointed Arch.

There are few chapters of architectural history—at least among the shorter
ones—more interesting, in various ways, than that which treats of the
introduction of the pointed-arched style into Sicily, and its peculiar
development there. The whole history is so easily understood, the style
itself so distinct from any other, and at the same time so intrinsically
beautiful, that it is of all the divisions of the subject the one best suited for a
monograph, and so it seems to have been considered by many—Hittorff and
Zanth,[5] the Duke of Serra di Falco,[6] and our own Gally Knight,[7] having
chosen it for special illustration, so that in fact there are few European
styles of which we have more complete information. Many of the points of
its history are nevertheless still subjects of controversy, not from any
inherent obscurity in the subject, but because it has been attempted to apply
to it the rules and theories derived from the history of Northern art.
The map of Sicily tells its whole history; its position and form reveal
nearly all that is required to be known of the races that inhabited it, and of
their fate. Situated in the centre of the Mediterranean Sea, of a nearly
regular triangular form, and presenting one side to Greece, another to
Africa, and a third to Italy, the length of these coasts, and their relative
distance from the opposite shores, are nearly correct indexes of the
influence each has had on the civilisation of the island.

In a former chapter[8] it was shown how strong was the influence of
Dorian Greece in Sicily. Almost all the ancient architectural remains belong
to that people. The Carthaginians, who succeeded the Greeks, left but slight
traces of humanising influence; and the rule of the Romans was that of
conquerors, oppressive and destructive of the civilisation of the people.
After the Christian era, a very similar succession of influences took place.
First and most powerful was the Byzantine element, which forms the
groundwork and main ingredient in all that follows. To this succeeded the
Saracenic epoch: bright, brilliant, but evanescent. In the 11th century the
Italian element resumed its sway under the banner of a few Norman
adventurers, and in the guise of a Norman conquest sacerdotal Rome
regained the inheritance of her imperial predecessor. In the Christian period,
however, the elements were far from being so distinct as in those preceding
it, for reasons easily understood. Every fresh race of masters found the
island already occupied by a very numerous population of extremely
various origin. The new-comers could do no more than add their own forms
of art to those previously in use; the consequence being in every case a
mixed style, containing elements derived from every portion of the
inhabitants.
We have no means of knowing the exact form of the Byzantine churches
of Sicily before the Arab invasion. All have either perished or are
undescribed. The Saracenic remains, too, have all disappeared, the
buildings generally supposed to be relics of their rule being now proved to
have been erected by Mahometan workmen for their Christian masters.
With the Norman sway a style arose which goes far to supply all these
deficiencies, being Greek in essence, Roman in form, and Saracenic in
decoration; and these elements mixed in exactly those proportions which
we should expect. Nowhere do we find the square-domed plans of the
Greek Church, nor any form suited to the Greek ritual. These have given
place to the Roman basilica, and to an arrangement adapted to the rites of
the Romish Church; but all the work was performed by Greek artists, and
the Roman outline was filled up and decorated to suit the taste and
conciliate the feelings of the worshippers, who were conquered Greeks or
converted Moors. Their fancy, too—richer and happier than that of the
ruder races of the West—was allowed full play. An Eastern exuberance in
designing details and employing colours is here exhibited, cramped a little,

it must be confessed, by the architectural forms and the ritual arrangements
to which it is applied, but still a ruling and beautifying principle throughout.
Among all these elements, those who are familiar with architectural
history will hardly look for anything indicative of purely Norman taste or
feelings. A mere handful of military adventurers, they conquered as soldiers
of Rome and for her aggrandisement, and held the fief for her advantage:
they could have brought no arts even if their country had then possessed
any. They were content that their newly-acquired subjects should erect for
them palaces after the beautiful fashion of the country, and that Roman
priests should direct the building of churches suited to their forms, but built
as the Sicilians had been accustomed to build, and decorated as they could
decorate them, better than their masters and conquerors.
All this, when properly understood, lends an interest to the history of this
little branch of architecture, wholly independent of its artistic merit; but the
art itself is so beautiful and so instructive, from its being one of the styles
where polychromy was universally employed and is still preserved, that
notwithstanding all that has been done, it still merits more attention.
It is extremely difficult, in a limited space, to give a clear account of the
Sicilian pointed style, owing to the fusion of the three styles of which it is
composed being far from complete or simultaneous over the whole island,
and there being no one edifice in which all three are mixed in anything like
equal proportions. Each division of the island, in fact, retains a predilection
for that style which characterised the majority of its inhabitants. Thus
Messina and the northern coast as far as Cefalu remained Italian in the
main, and the churches there have only the smallest possible admixture of
either Greek or Saracenic work. The old parts of the Nunziatella at Messina
might be found at Pisa, while the cathedral there and at Cefalu would hardly
be out of place in Apulia, except indeed that Cefalu displays a certain early
predilection for pointed arches, and something of Greek feeling in the
decoration of the choir.
In like manner in Syracuse and the southern angle of the island the Greek
feeling prevails almost to the exclusion of the other two. In Palermo, on the
other hand, and the western parts, the architecture is so strongly Saracenic
that hardly any antiquary has yet been able to admit the possibility of such
buildings as the Cuba and Ziza having been erected by the Norman kings.
There is, however, little or no doubt that the latter was built by William I.

(1154-1169), and the other about the same time, though by whom is not so
clear. Both these buildings were erected after a century of Norman
dominion in the island: still the Saracenic influence, so predominant in
them, need not astonish us, when we consider the immeasurable superiority
of the Saracens in art and civilisation, not only to their new rulers, but to all
the other inhabitants. It was therefore only natural that they should be
employed to provide for the Norman Counts such buildings as they alone
had the heart to erect and adorn.
A still more remarkable instance of the prevalence of Saracenic ideas is
represented in Woodcut No. 531, being the Church of San Giovanni degli
Eremiti at Palermo. Here we find a building erected beyond all doubt as late
as the year 1132, by King Roger, for the purposes of Christian worship,
which would in no respect, except the form of its tower, be out of place as a
mosque in the streets of Delhi or Cairo. In fact, were we guided by
architectural considerations alone, this church would have more properly
been described under the head of Saracenic than of Christian architecture.
There are three other churches of Palermo which exhibit the new mixed
style in all its completeness. These are the Martorana (1113-1143), in which
the Byzantine element prevails somewhat to the exclusion of the other two;
the Capella Palatina in the Palace, built in 1132; and the more magnificent
church of Monreale, near Palermo (Woodcut No. 532), begun in 1174, and
certainly the finest and most beautiful of all the buildings erected by the
Normans in this country. This church is 315 ft. in its extreme length; while
the beautiful gem-like Capella of the royal palace is much smaller, being
only 125 ft. long, and consequently inferior in grandeur, though in the
relative proportions of its parts, and in all other essential points, very
similar.

531. San Giovanni degli Eremiti, Palermo. (From
Gally Knight’s ‘Normans in Sicily.’)

In arrangement and dimensions the cathedral of Monreale very much
resembles that at Messina, showing the same general influence in both; but
all the details of the Palermitan example betray that admixture of Greek and
Saracenic feeling which is the peculiarity of Sicilian architecture. There is
scarcely a single form or detail in the whole building which can strictly be
called Gothic, or which points to any connection with Northern arts or
races. The plan of this, as of all the Sicilian churches, is that of a Roman
basilica, far more than of a Gothic church. In none of them was any vault
ever either built or intended. The central is divided from the side-aisles by
pillars of a single stone, generally borrowed from ancient temples, but (in
this instance at least) with capitals of great beauty, suited to their position
and to the load they have to support. The pier-arches are pointed, but not
Gothic, having no successive planes of decoration, but being merely square
masses of masonry of simple but stilted forms. The windows, too, though
pointed, are undivided, and evidently never meant for painted glass. The

roofs of the naves are generally of open framing, like those of the basilicas,
and ornamented in Saracenic taste. The aisles, the intersection of the
transepts and nave, and the first division of the sanctuary are generally
richer, and consequently more truly Moorish. The apse again is Roman.
Taken altogether, it is only the accident of the pointed arch having been
borrowed from the Moors that has led to the idea of Gothic feeling existing
in these edifices. It does exist at Messina and Cefalu, but in Palermo is
almost wholly wanting.
It is evident that the architectural
features in the buildings of which the
cathedral of Monreale is the type, were
subordinate, in the eyes of their builders,
to the mosaic decorations which cover
every part of the interior, and are, in fact,
the glory and pride of the edifice, by
which alone it is entitled to rank among
the finest of Mediæval churches. All the
principal personages of the Bible are
represented in the stiff but grand style of
Greek art, sometimes with Greek
inscriptions, and accompanied by scenes
illustrating the Old and New Testaments.
They are separated by and intermixed
with arabesques and ornaments in colour
and gold, making up a decoration
unrivalled in its class by anything—
except, perhaps, St. Mark’s—the Middle
Ages have produced. The church at
Assisi is neither so rich nor so splendid.
The Certosa is infamous in taste as
compared with this Sicilian cathedral. No
532. Plan of Church at specimen of opaque painting of its class,
Monreale. (From Hittorff and on this side of the Alps, can compete
Zanth.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. with it in any way. Perhaps the painted
glass of some of our cathedrals may have
surpassed it, but that is gone. In this
respect the mosaic has the advantage. It is to be regretted that we have no

direct means of comparing the effect of these two modes of decoration. In
both the internal architecture was subordinate to the colour—more so,
perhaps, as a general rule, in the Sicilian examples than in the North. In
fact, the architecture was merely a vehicle for the display of painting in its
highest and most gorgeous forms.
Besides the mosaic pictures which adorn the upper part of the walls of
these Palermitan churches, they possess another kind of decoration almost
equally effective, the whole of the lower part of the walls being revêted
with slabs of marble or porphyry disposed in the most beautiful patterns.
The Martorana depends wholly for its effect on this species of decoration.
In the Capella Palatina, and the church at Monreale, it occupies the lower
part of the walls only, and serves as a base for the storied decorations
above; but whether used separately or in combination, the result is perfect,
and such as is hardly attained in any other churches in any part of Europe.

533. Portion of the Nave,
Monreale. (From Hittorff and
Zanth.)

Externally the Gothic architects had immensely the advantage. They
never allowed their coloured decorations to interfere with their architectural
effects. On the contrary, they so used them as to make the windows
externally as well as internally their most beautiful and attractive features.

534. Lateral Entrance to Cathedral at Palermo. (From Hittorff
and Zanth.)

The cathedral of Palermo, the principal entrance of which is shown in
Woodcut No. 534, is a building of much later date, that which we now see
being principally of the 14th century. Although possessing no dignity of
outline or grace of form, it is more richly ornamented externally with
intersecting arches and mosaic decorations than almost any other church of
its class. It is richer perhaps and better than the cathedral of Florence,
inasmuch as the decorations follow the construction, and are not—as there
—a mere unmeaning panelling that might be applied anywhere. All this is
more apparent in the apse (Woodcut No. 535) than on the lateral elevation.
It converts what would be only a very plain exterior into a very rich and
ornamental composition; not quite suited to Northern taste, but very
effective in the sunny South. Still the effect of the whole is rather pretty

than grand, and as an architectural display falls far short of the bolder
masonic expression of the Northern Gothic churches.
After these, one of the most important churches of that age in the island
is the cathedral of Cefalu, already alluded to. It was commenced by King
Roger 1131. It is 230 ft. long by 90 ft. wide. The choir and transepts are
vaulted and groined; the nave has a wooden roof; all the arches are pointed;
and with its two western towers it displays more Gothic feeling than any
other church in Sicily.
The cathedral at Messina, though closely resembling that at Monreale in
plan, has been so altered and rebuilt as to retain very little of its original
architecture. The other churches in the island are either small and
insignificant, or, like that at Messina, have been so altered that their features
are obliterated.

535. East End of Cathedral at Palermo. (From
Rosengarten.)

Besides the Saracenic castles or palaces above mentioned, there are no
important civil buildings of Mediæval style in Sicily. There are two cloisters
—one at Monreale and the other at Cefalu—both in the style universal in all
the countries bordering on the Mediterranean Sea, and already described in
speaking of those of Elne, Fontifroide, Arles, &c., as well as those of St.
John Lateran at Rome. Their general arrangement consists of small but
elegant pillars of Corinthian design, in pairs, supporting pointed arches of
great beauty of form. In many respects this is a more beautiful mode of
producing a cloistered arcade than the series of unglazed windows
universally adopted in the North. The Southern method presupposes a
wooden or at most a tunnel-vaulted roof, as at Arles, whereas all our best
examples have intersecting vaults of great beauty, which indeed is the
excuse for the windowed arrangement assumed by them. An intermediate
course, like that adopted at Zurich (Woodcut No. 722), would perhaps best
reconcile the difficulty; but this was only used during the period of
transition from one style to the other. The effect, however, of the cloister at
Monreale, with the fountain in one of its divisions, and a certain air of
Eastern elegance and richness pervading the whole, is not surpassed by any
of the examples on the Continent of its own size, though its dimensions do
not allow it to compete with some of the larger examples of France, and
especially of Spain.
As the employment of the pointed arch so early in Sicily has been much
quoted in the controversy regarding the invention of that feature, it may be
convenient to state here that the pointed arch was used in the South of
France—at Vaison, for instance—at least as early as the 10th century, but
only as a vaulting expedient. During the 11th it was currently used in the
south, and as far north as Burgundy; and in the 12th it was boldly adopted
in the north as a vaulting, constructive and decorative feature, giving rise to
the invention of a totally new style of architectural art.
It is by no means impossible that the pointed arch was used by the Greek
or Pelasgic colonists about Marseilles at a far earlier date, but this can only
have been in arches or domes constructed horizontally. These may have
suggested its use in radiating vaults, but can hardly be said to have
influenced its adoption. Had it not been for the constructive advantages of
pointed arches, the Roman circular form would certainly have retained its
sway. It is possible, however, that the northern Franks would never have
adopted it so completely as they did had they not become familiar with it

either in Sicily or the East. When once they had so taken it up, they made it
their own by employing it only as a modification of the round-arched forms
previously introduced and perfected.
In Sicily the case is different; the pointed arch there never was either a
vaulting or constructive expedient—it was simply a mode of eking out, by
its own taller form and by stilting, the limited height of the Roman pillars,
which they found and used so freely. It is the same description of arch as
that used in the construction of the mosque El-Aksah at Jerusalem in the 8th
century; at Cairo in rebuilding that of Amrou in the 9th or 10th and in El-
Azhar and other mosques of that city. As such it was used currently in Sicily
by the Saracens, and in Palermo and elsewhere became so essential a part of
the architecture of the day that it was employed as a matter of course in the
churches; but it was not introduced by the Normans, nor was it carried by
them from Sicily into France, and, except so far as already stated, it had no
influence on the arts of France. In fact there is no connection, either
ethnographically or architecturally, between the Sicilian pointed arch and
the French; and beyond the accident of the broken centre they have nothing
in common.
Although, therefore, it can hardly again be used as evidence in the
question of the invention of the pointed arch, the architecture of Sicily
deserves a better monography than it has yet been made the subject of. It
must, however, be written by some one intimately familiar with the
Byzantine, Saracenic, and Romanesque styles. To any one so qualified,
Sicily would afford the best field in Europe for tracing the influence of race
and climate on architecture: for nowhere, owing in a great measure to its
insular position, can the facts be more easily traced, or the results more
easily observed.
In one other point of view also the style deserves attention, for from it
alone can we fairly weigh the merit of the two systems of internal
decoration employed during the Middle Ages. By comparing, for instance,
the cathedral at Monreale, with such a building as the Sainte Chapelle at
Paris, we may judge whether polychromy by opaque pictures in mosaic, or
by translucent pictures on glass, is the more beautiful mode of decorating
the interior of a building. The former have undoubtedly the advantage of
durability, and interfere less with the architectural effect, but for beauty and
brilliancy of effect I have little doubt that the general verdict would be that

the latter have at least hitherto been the most successful mode. On the
whole, however, it seems that a higher and purer class of art may be
developed out of opaque painting than can ever be obtained from
transparencies, and if this is so there can be little doubt as to which we
ought now to seek to cultivate. The question has never yet been fairly
discussed; and examples sufficiently approximating to one another, either in
age or style, are so rare that its determination is not easy. For that very
reason it is the more desirable that we should make the most of those we
have, and try if from them we can settle one of the most important questions
which architectural history has left to be determined with reference to our
future progress in the art.

CHAPTER IX.

GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE IN PALESTINE.

CONTENTS.
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem—Churches at Abû Gosh and
Lydda—Mosque at Hebron.

CHRONOLOGY.
DATES.
Jerusalem taken by the Crusaders A.D. 1099

Baudouin I. 1100

Baudouin II. 1118

Foulques, Count of Anjou 1131

Saladin retakes Jerusalem 1187

Third Crusade. Richard II. 1192

Frederick II. re-enters Jerusalem 1229

Re-taken by Sultan of Damascus 1239

Final overthrow of Christians 1244

It may at first sight appear strange that any form of architecture in Syria
should be treated as a part of that of Italy, but the circumstances of the case
are so exceptional that there can be little doubt of the correctness of so
doing. Gothic architecture was not a natural growth in Palestine, but
distinctly an importation of the Crusaders, transplanted by them to a soil
where it took no root, and from which it died out when the fostering care of
Western protection was removed. In this it is only too true a reflex of the
movement to which it owed its origin. The Crusades furnish one of those
instances in the history of the world where the conquerors of a nation have
been so numerous as entirely to supplant, for a time, the native population
and the indigenous institutions of the country. For nearly a century
Jerusalem was subject to kings and barons of a foreign race. The feudal
system was imported entire, with its orders of knighthood, its “Assises,”
and all the concomitant institutions which had grown up with the feudal
system in Western Europe. With them, as a matter of course, came the
hierarchy of the Roman Church, and with it the one style of architecture
which they then knew, or which was appropriate to their form of worship.
The one point which is not at first sight obvious is, why the Gothic style
in Palestine should be so essentially Italian, with so little admixture of the
styles prevalent on the northern side of the Alps. It may have been that then,
as now, the Italians settled loosely in the land. We know that the trade of the
Levant was at that time in the hands of Venice and other Italian cities, and it
is clear that it was easier to send to Italy for artists and workmen, than to
France and Germany, and much more likely that an Italian would undertake
the erection of buildings in the East than a Northern architect, whose ideas
of Palestine and its ways must have been extremely indistinct. Be this as it
may, there is little in the Gothic architecture of Palestine either as regards
arrangement or details—except the plan of the church of the Holy
Sepulchre—which would excite attention as singular if found in the South
of Italy or Sicily; and as little that would not seem out of place if found on
our side of the Alps.

Holy Sepulchre.

The principal buildings erected by the Crusaders in Palestine were, as
might be expected, the extensive additions made to the church or rather to

the group of churches near the Holy Sepulchre—the deliverance of which
from the hands of the infidels was the object of that wonderful burst of
national enthusiasm.[9]
The buildings on the site have been so repeatedly ruined and rebuilt, and
so little remains now of their original features prior to the Crusaders’ work,
that it is only necessary here to state the generally accepted belief that the
rotunda (A) shown on the upper part of the plan (Woodcut No. 536)
represents the position of the great apse erected by Constantine, round what
he considered to be the sepulchre of Christ (marked B on plan). The great
basilica which is described by Eusebius,[10] was erected on the east side of
this. This and other buildings were destroyed by Chosroes the Persian in
614, and portions only (those round the Holy Sepulchre) were restored by
Modestus in 629. In 1010, the mad Khalif Hakem destroyed Modestus’s
work, and the rotunda, as shown in Woodcut, was built by the Emperor
Constantine Monomachus thirty years later.

536. Plan of the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

When the Crusaders reached Jerusalem, 1099 A.D., the sepulchre appears
to have stood in a court open to the sky,[11] but “covered over lest rain
should fall upon it,” surrounded with an aisle and with five chapels
(C.D.E.F.G.) attached to it. These the Crusaders incorporated[12] with their
additions and alterations, which amounted almost to a rebuilding of the
church. The plan (Woodcut No. 536) indicates in black those portions found
by the Crusaders; in half tone, those which were built by them, and in
outline only the subsequent additions made before and after the great fire of
1808.[13] Though entirely at variance with the arrangement of the basilica
and independent tomb-house as adopted by Constantine some seven
centuries earlier, it would seem that the object of the Crusader was to

preserve intact the Rotunda and the Holy Sepulchre. The principal entrance
led into what was virtually the main transept, with the Rotunda on the west
side and the choir and apse on the east. At a later period the space within the
crossing was enclosed for the Greek Church, so that the Rotunda now
appears to be the nave, and it is in that sense that the church has been so
often copied. The plan was commonly employed in the North of Europe
(Woodcuts Nos. 790 to 795), and bloomed into perfection at Cologne in the
church of St. Gereon (Woodcut No. 741). It is also found at Little
Maplestead (Woodcut No. 847), Zara (Woodcut No. 486), in the churches of
the Temple in London, of St. Sepulchre at Cambridge, and elsewhere. In all
these instances it consists of a circular nave leading to a rectangular choir
terminated by an apse. Though primarily sepulchral in its origin, it is used
in all these places without any reference to its original destination, and had
become a recognised form of Christian church for the ordinary purposes of
worship.
Though containing so many objects of interest, the church itself is not
large, measuring 245 ft. long internally, exclusive of the crypt and chapel of
the cross, which being at a much lower level must have formed a crypt
under the nave and aisles of the basilica.
So far as can be judged from the information which remains to us, the
style (before the fire of 1808, after which the Rotunda was entirely rebuilt)
was tolerably homogeneous throughout. The transept, now converted into a
choir, and the apse, which, though commenced in 1103, were not completed
before 1169, show progress in style. All the constructive arches in this part
of the building are pointed—but the decorative portions still retain the
circular form.
Owing to its situation, and its being so much encumbered by other
buildings, the only part of the exterior which makes any pretension to
architectural magnificence is the Southern double portal, erected apparently
between the years 1140 and 1160. This is a rich and elegant example of the
style of ornamentation prevalent in Sicily and Southern Italy in the 12th
century, but among its most elaborate decoration, are two rich cornices of
classical date, built in unsymmetrically as string-courses, amongst details
belonging to the time of the Crusades. From their style these cornices
undoubtedly belong to the age of Constantine, and are probably fragments
of some ancient buildings. At an earlier age such fragments would probably

have been more extensively used up;
but in the 12th century the architects
had acquired confidence in
themselves and their own style, and
despised classical arrangements both
in plan and in detail.
The sepulchre itself seems to have
been rebuilt, about the year 1555,[14]
or at least so thoroughly repaired that
it is difficult to say what its exact
original form may have been.
Probably it did not differ materially
from that shown in the woodcut, since
that resembles the style of the 12th
much more than that of the 16th
century.

Although the church of the Holy
537. Holy Sepulchre—Plan and
Sepulchre was, naturally, by far the
Elevation as it existed before the
greatest work undertaken by the
fire in 1808. (From Bernardino
Crusaders, there are some six or seven
Amico.)
other churches in Jerusalem,[15] or its
immediate vicinity, which were
erected during the 12th century. The most complete of these at the present
day is that of St. Anne—now in course of thorough repair by the French
Government.

538. Plan of Church at
Abû Gosh. (From De
Vogüé.) Scale 50 ft. to 1
in.

It is a small church, 112 ft. long by 66 ft. wide internally, divided into
three aisles, each terminating in an apse, and covered with intersecting
vaults, showing strongly-marked transverse ribs of the usual Italian pattern.
It has also a small dome on the intersection between the nave and transept.
The windows are small and without tracery. It is, in fact, a counterpart of
the usual Italian church of the age. The same remarks apply to Ste. Marie la
Grande, Ste. Marie Latine, the Madeleine, and other churches which the
Christians built in their quarter of the town during their occupation, to
replace those of which the Moslems had deprived them.
One of the most perfect churches of this age,
out of Jerusalem, is that at Abû Gosh—the
ancient Kirjath-Jearim (Woodcuts Nos. 538,
539). Externally it is a rectangle, 86 ft. by 57 ft.,
with three apses which do not appear externally.
Under the whole is an extensive crypt. Though
small, it is so complete, and so elegant in all its
details, that it would be difficult to find
anywhere a more perfect example of the style.
As it now stands it is very much simpler and
plainer than any Northern example of the same
age would be; but it originally depended on
539. East End of Church painting for its decoration, and traces of this
at Abû Gosh. (From De may still be seen on its desecrated walls. It is
Vogüé.) now used as a cattle-shed. The church at Ramleh
is one of the largest, and must originally have
been one of the finest, of these Syrian churches. It is now used as a mosque,
and the consequent alteration of its arrangement, with plaster and
whitewash, have done much to destroy its architectural effect.

540. East End of Church at Lydda.
(From De Vogüé.)

At Sebaste there is one as large as that at Ramleh—160 ft. by 80 ft.—and
showing a more completely developed Gothic style than those at Jerusalem.
At Lydda there is another very similar in detail to that last mentioned.
Though now only a fragment, it is one of singular elegance, and shows a
purity of detail and arrangement not usual in Northern churches of that age.
De Vogüé is of opinion that both the last-named churches must have been
completed before the year 1187. It is hard, however, to believe that an
Italian Gothic style could have attained that degree of perfection so early,
and if the date assigned is correct, it is evident that the pointed style was
developed earlier in the East than in the West, a circumstance which, from
our knowledge of what had happened in Armenia and elsewhere, is by no
means improbable.
The date assigned to these churches is
rendered more probable by the existence of a
Gothic building, certainly as advanced as any of
those mentioned, within the enclosure of the
mosque at Hebron. If this was a work of the
Crusaders it must have been built before 1187,
since the Christians never had access to the
place after their defeat at Tiberias. If not erected

by them, we are forced to assume that the 541. Apse of Church at
Moslems, after recovering possession of the Lydda. Scale 50 ft. to 1
sepulchres of the Patriarchs, employed some in.
Christian renegades or slaves to erect a mosque
on the spot, in their own style of architecture.
This is, however, by no means improbable, since it is the only Christian
church (if it be one) in Palestine which has no apse, though there would
have been no difficulty in introducing three apses in the same manner as at
Abû Gosh (Woodcut No. 538) had it been so desired. It should also be
remarked that the three aisles point southward towards Mecca, and that,
except in style, it has all the appearance of a mosque. Both Christian and
Mahometan tradition are silent as to its erection, so that the determination
of the question must depend on a more careful examination than has yet
been possible. Whichever way it may be decided, it is a curious question. It
is either a Christian building without the arrangement elsewhere universally
indispensable, or it is a Moslem mosque in a Christian style of architecture.
If the former, the complete development of the Italian pointed style of
architecture in the East must be fixed at not less than half a century anterior
to that in the West.

542. Plan of
Mosque at
Hebron. Scale
100 ft to 1 in.

The Gothic
portion is shaded
black, the Jewish
hatched, and the
Mahometan
outlined.

BOOK III.

FRANCE.

CHAPTER I.

CONTENTS.
Division of subject—Pointed arches—Provence—Churches at Avignon,
Arles, Alet, Fontifroide, Maguelonne, Vienne—Circular churches—
Towers—Cloisters.

CHRONOLOGY.
DATES.
Charlemagne A.D. 768-813

Rollo, first Duke of Normandy 911

Hugh Capet 987

William II. of Normandy, or the Conqueror 1055-1086

Henry I. of France 1031

Philip I., or l’Amoureux 1060

Louis VI., or le Gros 1108

Louis VII., or le Jeune 1137

St. Bernard of Clairvaux 1091-1153

Philip II., or l’Auguste 1180

Louis VIII., or the Lion 1223

Louis IX., or the Saint 1226

Philip III., the Hardy 1270

Philip IV., or the Fair 1285

Philip VI. of Valois 1328

Battle of Crecy 1346

John II., the Good 1350

Charles V., the Wise 1364

Charles VI., the Beloved 1380

Charles VII., the Victorious 1422

Joan of Arc 1412-1431

Louis XI. 1461

Charles VIII. 1483

Louis XII. 1498

Francis I. 1515

To those who do not look beyond the present, France appears to be one of
the most homogeneous of all the countries of Europe—inhabited by a
people speaking one language, professing one religion, governed by the
same laws, and actuated by the same feelings and aspirations; yet it
certainly is not so in reality, and in the Middle Ages the distinctions

between the various races and peoples were strongly marked and capable of
easy definition. Wars, persecutions, and revolutions, have done much to
obliterate these, and the long habit of living under a centralised despotism
has produced a superficial uniformity which hides a great deal of actual
diversity. The process of fusion commenced apparently about the reign of
Louis the Saint (A.D. 1226), and has gone on steadily ever since. Before his
time France was divided into six or eight great ethnographic provinces
which might now be easily mapped out, though their boundaries frequently
differed widely from the political division of the land.
No systematic attempt has yet been made to construct an ethnographic
map of the country from the architectural remains, though it is easy to see
how it might be done. What is wanted is that some competent archæologist
should do for the ethnography of France what Sir W. Smith did at the end of
the last century for the geology of England. Like that early pioneer of exact
knowledge in his peculiar department, he must be content to wander from
province to province, from village to village, visiting every church, and
examining every architectural remain, comparing one with another, tracing
their affinities, and finally classifying and mapping the whole. It is probable
that the labour of one man would hardly suffice for this purpose.
Monographs would be required to complete the task, but it is one of such
singular interest that it is hoped it may soon be undertaken.
One of the great difficulties in attempting anything of the sort at present
is the nomenclature. When the science is further advanced, such names as
Silurian, Cambrian, &c., will no doubt be invented, but at present we must
be content with the political name which seems most nearly to express the
ethnographical distribution; though in scarcely a single instance will these
be found strictly correct, all in consequence being open to adverse criticism.
In France it frequently happened that two or more ethnographic provinces
were united under one sceptre—eventually all were merged into one—and
during the various changes that took place in the Middle Ages, it was only
by accident that the political boundary exactly agreed for any great length
of time with the ethnographical.
In Germany, on the contrary, a single race is and was cut up into
numerous political divisions, so that it becomes, from the opposite cause
alone, equally difficult to apply a nomenclature which shall correctly
represent the facts of the case.

In such a work as this it would be manifestly absurd to attempt to adjust
all this with anything like minute accuracy, but the principal features are so
easily recognised that no great confusion can arise in the application of such
names as are usually employed, and it is to be hoped that before long a
better system of nomenclature will be invented and applied.
We may rest assured of one thing, at all events, which is that the
architectural remains in France are as sufficient for the construction of an
ethnographic map of that country as the rocks are for the compilation of a
geological survey. If the one opens out to the student an immense expanse
of scientific knowledge, the other is hardly of less interest, though in a less
extended field. There are few studies more pleasing than that of tracing the
history of man through his works, and none bring the former condition of
humanity so vividly back to us as those records which have been built into
the walls of their temples or their palaces by those who were thus
unconsciously recording their feelings for the instruction of their posterity.

543. Diagram of the Architectural Divisions of
France.[16]

The first thing that strikes the student in examining architecturally the
map of France is the recurrence of the same phenomenon as was remarked
in that of Italy, a division into two nearly equal halves by a boundary line
running east and west. In both countries, to the southward of this line the
land was occupied by a Romanesque people who, though conquered, were
never colonised by the Barbarians to such an extent as to alter their blood or
consequently the ethnographic relations of the people. North of the line the
Goths and Lombards in Italy, and the Franks in Gaul, settled in such
numbers as to influence very considerably the status of the races, in some
instances almost to the obliteration of their leading characteristics.

In France the boundary line follows the valley of the Loire near its
northern edge till it passes behind Tours; it crosses that river between that
city and Orleans, follows a somewhat devious course to Lyons, and up the
valley of the Rhone to Geneva.
In the Middle Ages the two races were roughly designated as those
speaking the Langue d’oc and the Langue d’œil—somewhat more correctly
those to the south were called Romance,[18] those to the north Frankish; but
the truth is, the distinction is too broad to be now clearly defined, and we
must descend much more into detail before any satisfactory conclusion can
be arrived at.
On the south of the line, one of the most beautiful as well as the best
defined architectural provinces is that I have ventured to designate as
Provence or Provençal. Its limits are very nearly coincident with those of
Gallia Narbonensis, and “Narbonese” would consequently be a more
correct designation, and would be adopted if treating of a classical style of
art. It has, however, the defect of including Toulouse, which does not
belong to the province, and consequently the name affects an accuracy it
does not possess. It may, therefore, be better at present to adopt the vague
name of the “Provence” par excellence, especially as Provençal is a word
applied by French authors to literary matters much in the sense it is here
used to define an architectural division. The whole of the south coast of
France from the Alps to the Pyrenees belongs to this province, and it
extends up the valley of the Rhone as far as Lyons, and is generally
bounded by the hills on either side of that river.
Perhaps the best mode of defining the limits of the Aquitanian province
would be to say that it includes all those towns whose names end with the
Basque article ac, consequently indicating the presence at some former
period of a people speaking that language or something very closely allied
to it, or at all events differing from those of the rest of France. It is only on
the eastward that the line seems difficult to define. There are some towns,
such as Barjac, Quissac, Gignac, in the valley of the Rhone, in situations
that would seem to belong to Provence, and until their churches are
examined it is impossible to say to which they belong. On the south
Aquitania is bounded by the Pyrenees, on the west by the sea, and on the
North by a line running nearly straight from the mouth of the Garonne to
Langeac, near to Le Puy-en-Velay.

The third is designated that of Anjou, or the Angiovine, from its most
distinguished province. This includes the lower part of the Loire, and is
bounded on the north-east by the Cher. Between it and the sea is a strip of
land, including the Angoumois, Saintonge, and Vendée, which it is not easy
to know where to place. It may belong, so far as we yet know, to either
Aquitania or Anjou, or possibly may deserve a separate title altogether; but
in the map it is annexed for the present to Poitou or the Angiovine province.
In Brittany the two styles meet, and are so mixed together that it is
impossible to separate them. In that district there is neither pure Romance
nor pure Frankish, but a style partaking of the peculiarities of each without
belonging to either.
Besides these, there is the small and secluded district of Auvergne,
having a style peculiarly its own, which, though certainly belonging to the
southern province, is easily distinguished from any of the neighbouring
styles, and is one of the most pleasing to be found of an early age in France.
Beyond this to the eastward lies the great Burgundian province, having a
well-defined and well-marked style of its own, influenced by or influencing
all those around it. Its most marked characteristic is what may be called a
mechanical mixture of the classical and mediæval styles without any real
fusion. Essentially and constructively the style is Gothic, but it retained the
use of Corinthian pilasters and classical details till late in the Middle Ages:
Burgundy was also in the Middle Ages the country of monasticism par
excellence—a circumstance which had considerable influence on her forms
of art.
Taking, then, a more general view of the southern province, it will be
seen that if a line were drawn from Marseilles to Brest, it would pass nearly
through the middle of it. At the south-eastern extremity of such a line we
should find a style almost purely Romanesque, passing by slow and equal
gradations into a Gothic form at its other terminal.
On turning to the Frankish province the case is somewhat different. Paris
is here the centre, from which everything radiates: and though the Norman
invasion, and other troubles of those times, with the rebuilding mania of the
13th century, have swept away nearly all traces of the early buildings, still it
is easy to see how the Gothic style arose in the Isle of France, and how it
spread from thence to all the neighbouring provinces.

In consequence, however, of the loss of its early buildings, and of its
subsequent pre-eminence and supercession of the earlier styles, the
description of its features naturally follows that of the subordinate
provinces, and concludes the history of the mediæval styles in France.
Not to multiply divisions, we may include in the Northern province many
varieties that will afterwards be marked as distinct in maps of French
architecture, especially at the south-east, where the Nivernois and
Bourbonnois, if not deserving of separate honours, at least consist of such a
complete mixture of the Frankish and Burgundian with the Southern styles,
that they cannot strictly be said to belong to any one in particular, though
they partake of all. The Northern, however, is certainly the predominant
element, and with that therefore they should be classed.
To the westward lies the architectural province of Normandy, one of the
most vigorous offshoots of the Frankish style: and from the power of the
Norman dukes in the 11th and 12th centuries, and the accidental
circumstance of its prosperity in those centuries when the rest of France
was prostrate from their ravages and torn by internal dissensions, the
Romanesque style shows itself here with a vigour and completeness not
found elsewhere. It is, however, evidently only the Frankish style based
remotely on Roman tradition, but which the Barbarians used with a freedom
and boldness which soon converted it into a purely national form. This soon
ripened into the complete Gothic style of the 13th century, which was so
admired that it soon spread over the whole face of Europe, and became the
type of all Gothic architecture.
Alsace is not included in this enumeration, as it certainly belongs
architecturally to Germany. Lorraine too is more German than French, and
if included at all, must be so as an exceptional transitional province. French
Flanders belonged, in the Middle Ages, to the Belgian provinces behind it,
and may therefore also be disregarded at present: but even after rejecting all
these, enough is still left to render it difficult to remember and follow all the
changes in style introduced by these different races, and which marked not
only the artistic but the political state of France during the Middle Ages,
when the six territorial peers of France, the Counts of Toulouse, Aquitaine,
Normandy, Burgundy, Champagne, and Flanders, represented the six
principal provinces of the kingdom, under their suzerain, the Count or King
of Paris. These very divisions might now be taken to represent the

architectural distinctions, were it not that the pre-eminence of these great
princes belongs to a later epoch than the architectural divisions which we
have pointed out, and which we must now describe somewhat more at
length.

Pointed Arches.
Before proceeding to describe these various styles in detail, it may add to
the clearness of what follows if the mode in which the pointed arch was
first introduced into Christian architecture is previously explained. It has
already been shown that the pointed arch with radiating voussoirs was used
by the Assyrians as early as the time of Sargon in the 8th century B.C., and
by the Ethiopians as early as that of Tirhakah. The Etrurians and Pelasgi
used the form probably twelve centuries before the Christian era, but
constructed it with horizontal courses. To come nearer, however, to our own
time, the Saracens certainly adopted it at Cairo in the first century of the
Hegira,[19] and employed it generally if not universally, and never apparently
used a round arch after the erection of the mosque of Ebn Tulûn, A.D. 879.
The Romanesque traditions, however, prevented the Christians from
adopting it in Europe till forced to do it from constructive necessities; and
the mode of its introduction into the early churches in Provence renders
them singularly important in enabling us to arrive at a correct solution of
this much mooted question.[20]
It is hardly worth while discussing whether the form was borrowed from
the East, where it had been used so long before it was known—or at least
before we are aware of its being known—in Europe. It may be that the
Pelasgic Greeks left examples of it in Provence, or that persons trading to
the Levant from Marseilles became familiar with its uses; or it may be,
though very unlikely, that it was really re-invented for the purposes to
which it was applied.
In whatever way it was introduced, it at least seems certain that all the
churches of Provence, from the age of Charlemagne to that of St. Louis,
were vaulted, and have their vaults constructed on the principle of the
pointed arch. It has nevertheless long been a received dogma with the
antiquaries of France, as well as with those of England, that the pointed
arch was first introduced in the 12th century—the first example being
assumed to be the work of Abbot Suger at St. Denis (1144-52), the result of
which is that all who have written on the subject of Provençal architecture

have felt themselves forced to ascribe the age of the churches in question,
or at least of their roofs, a date subsequent to this period.
The use to which the Provençal architects applied the pointed arch will
be evident from the annexed diagram, the left-hand portion of which is a
section of the roof of one of the churches at Vaison. The object evidently
was to lay the roof or roofing-tiles directly on the vault, as the Romans had
done on their domes, and also, so far as we know, on those of their thermæ.
Had they used a circular vault for this purpose, it is evident, from the right-
hand side of the diagram, that to obtain a straight-lined roof externally, and
the necessary watershed, it would have been requisite to load the centre of
the vault to a most dangerous extent, as at A; whereas with the pointed arch
it only required the small amount of filling up shown at B, and even that
might have been avoided by a little contrivance if thought necessary. By
adopting the pointed form the weights are so distributed as to ensure
stability and to render the vault self-supporting. It has already been
observed that the Gothic architects everywhere treated their vaults as mere
false ceilings, covering them with a roof of wood—an expedient highly
objectionable in itself, and the cause of the destruction, by fire or from
neglect, of almost all the churches we now find in ruins all over Europe;
whereas, had they adhered either to the Roman or Romance style of
roofing, the constant upholding hand of man would not have been required
to protect their buildings from decay.

544. Diagram of Vaulting. South of France.

The one obstacle in the way of the general adoption of this mode of
roofing was the difficulty of applying it to intersecting vaults. The Romans,
it is true, had conquered the difficulty; so had the Byzantine architects, as
we have already seen, displaying the ends of the vaults as ornaments; and
even at St. Mark’s, Venice, this system is adopted, and with the additional
advantage of the pointed arch might have been carried further. Still it must
be confessed that it was not easy—that it required more skill in construction
and a better class of masonry than was then available to do this efficiently
and well. The consequence is, that all the Romance pointed vaults are
simple tunnel-vaults without intersections, and that the Gothic architects,
when they adopted the form, slurred over the difficulty by hiding the upper
sides of their vaults beneath a temporary wooden roof, which protected
them from the injuries of the weather. This certainly was one of the greatest
mistakes they made: had they carefully profiled and ornamented the
exterior of the stone roofs in the same manner as they ornamented the
inside, their buildings would have been not only much more beautiful, but
much more permanent, and the style would have been saved from the
principal falsity that now deforms it. Even as it is, if we wished intelligently
to adapt the Gothic to our purposes, instead of merely copying it, this is one
of the points to which we ought first to turn our attention.

545. Fig. 1. Fig. 2. Fig. 3.

Another circumstance which may be alluded to here, when speaking on
this subject, which led to the adoption of the pointed arch at an early age in
the southern provinces of France, was the use of domes as a roofing
expedient. These, it is true, are not found in Provence, but they are common
in Aquitaine and Anjou—some of them certainly of the 11th century; and
there can be little doubt but that these are not the earliest, though their
predecessors have perished or have not yet been brought to light.

There is no one who has studied the subject who is not aware how
excellent, as a constructive expedient, the pointed arch is as applied to
intersecting vaults, but it is not so generally understood why it was equally
necessary in the construction of domes. So long as these rested on drums
rising from the ground the circular form sufficed; but when it became
necessary to rest them on pendentives in the angles of square or octagonal
buildings, the case was widely different. The early Byzantine architects—in
Sta. Sophia, for instance—did fit pendentives to circular arches, but it was
with extreme difficulty, and required very great skill both in setting out and
in execution. But the superiority of the pointed form was perceived at an
early date; and the Saracens, who were trammelled by no traditions,
adopted it at once as a doming expedient and adhered to it as exclusively as
the Gothic architects did in the construction of their vaults—and for the
same reason—simply because it was the best mode of construction.
It is easy to explain why this should be so. In the diagram on the
preceding page, fig. 1 represents the pendentives of a dome resting on
circular arches. At A they become evanescent, and for some distance from
the centre are so weak that it is only by concealed construction that they can
be made to do their work. When the pointed arch is introduced, as in fig. 2,
not only is great freedom obtained in spacing, but the whole becomes
constructively correct; when, as in fig. 3, an octagonal arrangement is
adopted, the whole becomes still more simple and easy, and very little
adjustment is required to fit a dome to an octagon: and if the angles are
again cut off, so as to form a polygon of 16 sides, all the exigencies of
construction are satisfied.

546. Section of Church at Carcassonne, with the
outer aisles added in the 14th century. No scale.

At St. Front, Périgueux, at Moissac, and at Loches, we find the pointed
arch, introduced evidently for this purpose, and forming a class of roofs
more like those of mosques in Cairo than any other buildings in Europe. It
is true they now look bare and formal—their decorations having been
originally painted on stucco, which has pealed off; but still the variety of
form and perspective they afford internally, and the character and
truthfulness they give to the roof as seen from without, are such advantages
that we cannot but regret that these two expedients of stone external roofs
and domes were not adopted in Gothic. Had the great architects of that style
in the 13th century carried out these with their characteristic zeal and
earnestness, they might have left us a style in every respect infinitely more
perfect and more beautiful than the one they invented, and which we are
copying so servilely, instead of trying, with our knowledge and means of
construction, to repair the errors and omissions of our forefathers, and out
of the inheritance they have left us to work out something more beautiful
and more worthy of our greater refinement and more advanced civilisation.
The practice of the Greeks in respect to their roofs was a curious contrast
to that of the mediæval architects. Their architecture, as before remarked,
being essentially external, while that of the Middle Ages was internal, they
placed the stone of their roofs on the outside, and took the utmost pains to
arrange the covering ornamentally; but they supported all this on a
framework of wood, which in every instance has perished. It is difficult to

say which was the greater mistake of the two. Both were wrong without
doubt. The happy medium seems to be that which the Romance architects
aimed at—a complete homogeneous roof, made of the most durable
materials and ornamented, both externally and internally; and there can be
little doubt but that this is the only legitimate and really artistic mode of
effecting this purpose, and the one to which attention should now be turned.
[21]

This early mode of employing the pointed arch is so little understood
generally that, before leaving this branch of the subject, it may be well to
quote one other example with a perfectly authentic date.
The Church of St. Nazaire at Carcassonne was dedicated by Pope Urban
II. in 1096. It was not then quite complete, but there seems no doubt but
that the nave, as we now find it, was finished by the year 1100. As will be
seen from the annexed section, the side aisles and all the openings are
constructed with round arches; but the difficulty of vaulting the nave forced
on the architects the introduction of the pointed arch. It is here constructed
solid with flat ribs over each pillar, and without any attempt to pierce it for
the introduction of light; and as the west end is blocked up—fortified in fact
—the result is gloomy enough.
This example is also interesting when looked at from another point of
view. If we turn back to Woodcuts Nos. 187 and 188, and compare them
with this section, we shall be able to gauge exactly the changes which were
introduced and the progress that was made, during the 1000 years that
elapsed between the erection of these two buildings. In the plan of the
temple of Diana at Nîmes, we have the same three-aisled arrangement as at
Carcassonne. Their dimensions are not very dissimilar; the nave at Nîmes is
27 ft. wide, the aisles 7½ ft. in the clear. At Carcassonne this becomes 25 ft.
and 10 ft. respectively. The aisles are in the early example separated from
the nave by screen walls, adorned with pillars which are mere ornaments. In
the later examples the pillars have become the main support of the roof, the
wall being omitted between them.
The roof of the nave in both instances is adorned with flat ribs, one over
each pillar; but at Nîmes the rib is rather wider than the space between. At
Carcassonne the rib occupies only one-fourth of the width of the bay. One
of their most striking differences is, that Nîmes displays all that megalithic
grandeur for which the works of the Romans were so remarkable; while at

Carcassonne the masonry is little better than rubble. It need hardly be added
that the temple displays an elegance of detail which charms the most
fastidious taste, while the decoration of the church is rude and fantastic,
though no doubt picturesque and appropriate. The last remark must not,
however, be understood as a reproach to Gothic art, for the choir of this
very church, and the two outer arches shown in the Woodcut No. 546, were
rebuilt in the year 1331, with an elegance of detail which, in a constructive
sense, would shame the best classical examples. The nave is a tentative
example of a rude age, when men were inventing, or trying to invent, a new
style, and before they quite knew how to set about it. The builders of
Carcassonne had this temple at Nîmes standing, probably much more
complete than it is now, within 120 miles of them, and they were attempting
to copy it as best they could. It is probable, however, they had also other
models besides this one, and certain that this was not the first attempt to
reproduce them. The differences are considerable; but the similarities are so
great that we ought rather to be astonished that ten centuries of experience
and effort had not shown more progress than we find.

Provence.

There are few chapters in the history of mediæval architecture which it
would be more desirable to have fully and carefully written than that of the
style of Provence from the retirement of the Romans to the accession of the
Franks. This country, from various causes, retained more of its former
civilisation through the dark ages than any other, at least on this side of the
Alps. Such a history, however, is to be desired more in an archæological
than in an architectural point of view; for the Provençal churches, compared
with the true Gothic, though numerous and elegant, are small, and most of
them have undergone such alterations as to prevent us from judging
correctly of their original effect.
Among the Provençal churches, one of the most remarkable is Notre
Dame de Doms, the cathedral at Avignon (Woodcut No. 547). Like all the
others, its dimensions are small, as compared with those in the northern
province, as it is only 200 ft. in length, and the nave about 20 ft. in width.
The side aisles have been so altered and rebuilt, that it is difficult to say
what their plan and dimensions originally may have been.

547. Porch of Notre Dame de Doms, Avignon. (From
Laborde’s ‘Monuments de la France.’)

The most remarkable feature and the least altered is the porch, which is
so purely Romanesque that it might almost be said to be copied from such
examples as the arches on the bridge of Chamas (Woodcut No. 221). It
presents, however, all that attenuation of the horizontal features which is so
characteristic of the Lower Empire, and cannot rank higher than the
Carlovingian era; though it is not quite so easy to determine how much
more modern it may be. The same ornaments are found in the interior, and
being integral parts of the ornamentation of the pointed roof, have led to
various theories to account for this copying of classical details after the
period at which it was assumed that the pointed arch had been introduced. It
has been sufficiently explained above, how early this was the case as a
vaulting expedient in this quarter; and that difficulty being removed, we

may safely ascribe the whole of the essential parts of this church to a period
not long, if at all, subsequent to the age of Charlemagne.
Next perhaps in importance to this, is the church of St. Trophime at
Arles, the nave of which, with its pointed vault, probably belongs to the
same age, though its porch (Woodcut No. 548), instead of being the earliest
part as in the last instance, is here the most modern, having been erected in
the 11th century, when the church to which it is attached acquired additional
celebrity by the translation of the body of St. Trophime to a final resting-
place within its walls. As it is, it forms a curious and interesting pendent to
the one last quoted, showing how in the course of two centuries the style
had passed from debased Roman to a purely native form, still retaining a
strong tradition of its origin, but so used and so ornamented that, were we
not able to trace back the steps one by one by which the porch at Avignon
led to that of Arles, we might almost be inclined to doubt the succession.

548. Porch of St. Trophime, Arles. (From Chapuy,
‘Moyen-Âge Monumental.’)

The porches at Aix, Cuxa, Coustonges, Prades, Valcabre, Tarascon, and
elsewhere in this province, form a series of singular interest, and of great
beauty of detail mixed with all the rich exuberance of our own Norman
doorways, and follow one another by such easy gradations that the relative
age of each may easily be determined.
The culminating example is that at St. Gilles, near the mouths of the
Rhone, which is by far the most elaborate church of its class, but so
classical in many of its details, that it probably is somewhat earlier than this
one at Arles, which it resembles in many respects, though far exceeding it in
magnificence. It consists of three such porches placed side by side, and
connected together by colonnades—if they may be so called—and sculpture

of the richest class, forming altogether a frontal decoration unsurpassed
except in the northern churches of the 13th century. Such porches, however,
as those of Rheims, Amiens, and Chartres, surpass even these in elaborate
richness and in dimensions, though it may be questioned if they are really
more beautiful in design.

549. Apse of Church at Alet. (From Taylor
and Nodier, ‘Voyages dans l’Ancienne
France.’)

There is another church of the Carlovingian era at Orange, and one at
Nîmes, probably belonging to the 9th or 10th century; both however very
much injured by alterations and repairs. In the now deserted city of Vaison
there are two churches, so classical in their style, that we are not surprised
at M. Laborde,[22] and the French antiquaries in general, classing them as
remains of the classical period. In any other country on this side of the Alps
such an inference would be inevitable; but here another code of criticism
must be applied to them. The oldest, the chapel of St. Quinide, belongs
probably to the 9th or 10th century. It is small but remarkably elegant and

classical in the style of its architecture. The apse is the most singular as well
as the most ancient part of the church, and is formed in a manner of which
no other example is found anywhere else, so far as I know. Externally it is
two sides of a square, internally a semicircle; at each angle of the exterior
and in each face is a pilaster, fairly imitated from the Corinthian order, and
supporting an entablature that might very well mislead a Northern antiquary
into the error of supposing it was a Pagan temple.
The cathedral, though larger, is more Gothic both in plan and detail,
though not without some classical features, and is entirely free from the
bold rudeness of style we are so accustomed to associate with the
architecture of the 11th century, to which it belongs. Its system of vaulting
has already been explained (Woodcut No. 544), but neither of these
buildings has yet met with the attention they so richly merit from those who
are desirous of tracing the progress of art from the decline of the pure
Roman to the rise of the true Gothic styles.

550. Internal Angle of Apse at Alet. (From
Taylor and Nodier.)

Taking it altogether, perhaps the most elegant specimen of the style is the
ruined—now, I fear, nearly destroyed—church of Alet, which, though
belonging to the 11th century, was singularly classical in its details, and
wonderfully elegant in every part of its design. Of this the apse, as having
undergone no subsequent transformation, was by far the most interesting,
though not the most beautiful, portion. Externally the upper part was
adorned with dwarf Corinthian pilasters, surmounted by a cornice that
would not discredit the buildings of Diocletian at Spalato; the lower part
was ornamented by forms of more mediæval character, but of scarcely less
elegance. In the interior the triumphal arch, as it would be called in a
Roman basilica, is adorned by two Corinthian pillars, designed with the

bold freedom of the age, though retaining the classical forms in a most
unexpected degree.
The rest of the church is as elegant as these parts, though far less
classical, the necessities of vaulting and construction requiring a different
mode of treatment, and a departure from conventional forms, which the
architect does not seem to have considered himself at liberty to employ in
the apse.

551. Elevation of half one Bay
of the Exterior of St. Paul-
Trois-Châteaux.

552. Half Bay of Interior of St.
Paul-Trois-Châteaux. (From
the ‘Archives des Monuments
Historiques.’)

Another singularly elegant specimen of this style is the church of St.
Paul-Trois-Châteaux, near Avignon (Woodcuts Nos. 551, 552). Its details
are so elegant and so classical that it might almost be mistaken for a
building of the Lower Empire anterior to Justinian’s time. Its plan, however,
and the details of its construction, prove that it belongs to a much more
modern date; Viollet le Duc would even bring it down as low as the 12th
century. It hardly seems possible that it should be so modern as this; but the
truth is, the whole history of the Romance style in this province has still to
be written.[23] It has not yet been examined with the care it deserves by any
competent authority, and till it is we must be content with the knowledge
that, in the neighbourhood of the Bouches du Rhône, there exists a group of
churches which, drawing their inspiration from the classical remains with
which the country is studded, exhibit an elegance of design as exquisite as it
is in strange contrast with the rude vigour—almost vulgarity—which
characterised the works of the Normans in the opposite corner of the land at
the same period.
Passing from the round-arched to the pointed modifications of this style,
the church at Fontifroide, near Narbonne, shows it in its completeness,
perhaps better than any other example. There, not only the roof is pointed,

but all the constructive openings have assumed the same forms. The
windows and doorways, it is true, still retain their circular heads, and did
retain them as long as the native style flourished—the pointed-headed
opening being only introduced by the Franks when they occupied this
country in the time of Simon de Montfort.

553. Longitudinal and Cross Section of Fontifroide Church.
(From Taylor and Nodier.)

The section across the nave (Woodcut 553) shows the form of the central
vault, which the longitudinal section shows to be a plain tunnel-vault
unbroken by any intersection throughout the whole length of the nave. The
side aisles are roofed with half vaults, forming abutments to the central
arches—the advantage of this construction being, as before explained, that
the tiles or paving-stones of the roof rest directly on the vault without the
intervention of any carpentry. Internally also the building displays much
elegant simplicity and constructive propriety. Its chief defect is the darkness
of the vault from the absence of a clerestory, which though tolerable in the
bright sunshine of the South, could not be borne in the more gloomy North.
It was to correct this, as we shall afterwards perceive, that in the North the
roof of the aisles was first raised to the height of that of the central nave,
light being admitted through a gallery. Next the upper roof the aisles was
cut away, with the exception of mere strips or ribs left as flying buttresses.

Lastly, the central vault was cut up by intersections, so as to obtain space
for windows to the very height of the ridge. It was this last expedient that
necessitated the adoption of the pointed-headed window. It might never
have been introduced but for the invention of painted glass, but this
requiring larger openings, compelled the architects to bring these windows
close up to the lines of the constructive vaulting, and so follow its forms. In
the South, however, painted glass never was, at least in the age of which we
are now speaking, a favourite mode of decoration, and the windows
remained so small as never to approach or interfere in any way with the
lines of the vault, and they therefore retained their national and more
beautiful circular-headed termination. The modes of introducing light are,
however, undoubtedly the most defective part of the arrangements of the
Provençal churches, and have given rise to its being called a “cavern-like
Gothic”[24] from the gloom of their interiors as compared with the glass
walls of their Northern rivals. Still it by no means follows that this was an
inherent characteristic of the style, which could not have been remedied by
further experience; but it is probable that no ingenuity would ever have
enabled this style to display these enormous surfaces of painted glass, the
introduction of which was, if not the only, at least the principal motive of all
those changes which took place in the Frankish provinces.
It would be tedious to attempt to
describe the numerous churches of the
11th and 12th centuries which are found
in every considerable town in this
province: some of them, however, such as
Elne, St. Guillem du Désert, St. Martin de
Landres, Vignogoul, Valmagne, Lodève,
[25]
&c., deserve particular attention, as
exemplifying this style, not only in its
earlier forms, but after it had passed into a
pointed style, though differing very
considerably from that of the North.
Among these there is no church more
interesting than the old fortalice-like
church of Maguelonne, which, from its
exposed situation, open to the attacks of
Saracenic corsairs as well as Christian

554. Doorway in Church at robbers, looks more like a baronial castle
Maguelonne. (From than a peaceful church. One of its
Renouvier, ‘Monuments de doorways shows a curious admixture of
Bas Languedoc.’) classical, Saracenic, and Gothic taste,
which could only be found here; and as it
bears a date (1178), it marks an epoch in
the style to which it belongs.
Had it been completed, the church of St. Gilles would perhaps have been
the most splendid of the province. Its portal has already been spoken of, and
is certainly without a rival; and the lower church, which belongs to the 11th
century, is worthy of its magnificence. It was, however, either never
finished, or was subsequently ruined along with the upper church, which
was commenced in the year 1116 by Raymond IV., Count of St. Gilles. This
too was probably never completed, or, if it was, it was ruined in the wars
with the Huguenots. Even in its present state, and though wanting the
richness of the earlier examples, it perhaps surpasses them all in the
excellence of its masonry, and the architectural propriety of all its parts.
Besides these, there is an important church at Valence of the 11th century,
which seems to be an almost expiring effort of the “cavern-like” style. In
other respects it resembles the Northern styles so much as almost to remove
it from the Provençal class. This is even more true of the cathedral at
Vienne, which is nevertheless the largest and finest of the churches of
Provence, but which approaches, both in style and locality, very closely to
the Burgundian churches.

555. Cathedral, Vienne.
(From Wiebeking.)
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

Its plan is extremely simple, having no transept and no aisle trending
round the apse, as is the case with most of the Northern churches. It consists
of three aisles, the central one 35 ft. wide between the piers, the others 14 ft.
The buttresses are internal, as was usual in the South, forming chapels, and
making up the whole width externally to 113 ft. by a length over all of 300,
so that it covers somewhere about 30,000 sq. ft. This is only half the
dimensions of some of the great Northern cathedrals, but the absence of
transepts, and its generally judicious proportions, make this church look
much larger than it really is.
The west front and the three western bays are of the 16th century; the
next seven are of an early style of pointed architecture, with semi-Roman
pilasters, which will be described in speaking of Burgundian architecture,
and which belong probably to the 11th or beginning of the 12th century.

The apse is ascribed to the year 952, but there are no drawings on which
sufficient dependence can be placed to determine the date.
Besides this, there is another church, St. André le Bas at Vienne,
belonging to the 11th century, whose tower is one of the most pleasing
instances of this kind of composition in the province, and though evidently
a lineal descendant of the Roman and Italian campaniles, displays an
amount of design seldom met with beyond the Alps.

Circular Churches.

The round shape seems never to have been a favourite for sacred
buildings in Provence, and consequently was never worked into the apses of
the churches nor became an important adjunct to them. One of the few
examples found is a small baptistery attached to the cathedral at Aix, either
very ancient or built with ancient materials, and now painfully modernised.
At Riez there is a circular detached baptistery, usually, like the churches at
Vaison, called a pagan temple, but evidently of Christian origin, though the
pillars in the interior seem undoubtedly to have been borrowed from some
more ancient and classical edifice. But the finest of its class is the church at
Rieux, probably of the 11th century. Internally the vault is supported by 4
piers and 3 pillars, producing an irregularity far from pleasing, and without
any apparent motive.
At Planes is another church the plan of which deserves to be quoted, if
not for its merit, at least for its singularity: it is a triangle with an apse
attached to each side, and supporting a circular part terminating in a plain
roof. As a constructive puzzle it is curious, but it is doubtful how far any
legitimate use could be made of such a caprice.
There is, so far as I know, only one triapsal church, that of St. Croix at
Mont Majour near Arles. Built as a sepulchral chapel, it is a singularly
gloomy but appropriate erection; but it is too tall and too bare to rank high
as a building even for such a purpose.

Towers.

Provence is far from being rich in
towers, which never seem there to have
been favourite forms of architectural
display. That of St. André le Bas at Vienne
has already been alluded to, but this at
Puissalicon (Woodcut No. 557) near
Béziers is even more typical of the style,
and standing as it now does in solitary
grandeur among the ruins of the church
once attached to it, has a dignity seldom
possessed by such monuments. In style it
resembles the towers of Italy more than 556. Plan of Church at Planes.
any found farther north, but it is not (From Taylor and Nodier.)
without peculiarities that point to a
different mode of elaborating this peculiar
feature from anything found elsewhere. As a design its principal defect
seems to be a want of lightness in the upper storey. The single circular
opening there is a mistake in a building gradually growing lighter towards
its summit.

557. Tower at Puissalicon.
(From Renouvier.)

These towers were very seldom, if ever, attached symmetrically to the
churches. When height was made an object, it was more frequently attained
by carrying up the dome at the intersection of the choir with the nave. At
Arles this is done by a heavy square tower, gradually diminishing, but still
massive to the top; but in most instances the square becomes an octagon,
and this again passes into a circle, which terminates the composition. One
of the best specimens of this class of domes, if they may be so called, is the
church of Cruas (Woodcut No. 558), where these parts are pleasingly
subordinated, and form, with the apses on which they rest, a very beautiful
composition. The defect is the tiled roofs or offsets at the junction of the
various storeys, which give an appearance of weakness, as if the upper parts

could slide, like the joints of a telescope, one into the other. This could
easily be avoided, and probably was so in the original design. If this were
done, we have here the principle of a more pleasing crowning member at an
intersection than was afterwards used in pointed architecture, and capable
of being applied to domes of any extent.

Cloisters.

Nearly all, and certainly all the more important churches of which we
have been speaking, were collegiate, and in such establishments the cloister
forms as important a part as the church itself, and frequently the more
beautiful object of the two. In our own cold wet climate the cloisters lose
much of their appropriateness; still, they always were used, and always with
a pleasing effect; but in the warm sunny South their charm is increased
tenfold. The artists seem to have felt this, and to have devoted a large share
of their attention to these objects—creating, in fact, a new style of
architecture for this special purpose.

558. Church at Cruas. (From Taylor and Nodier.)

With us the arcades of a cloister are generally, if not always, a range of
unglazed windows, presenting the same features as those of the church,
which, though beautiful when filled with glass, are somewhat out of place
without that indispensable adjunct. In the South the cloister is never a
window, or anything in the least approaching to it in design, but a range of
small and elegant pillars, sometimes single, sometimes coupled, generally
alternately so, and supporting arches of light and elegant design, all the
features being of a character suited to the place where they are used, and to
that only.

559. Cloister at Fontifroide. (From
Taylor and Nodier.)

560. 561.
Capitals in Cloister, Elne. (From Taylor and
Nodier.)

The cloister at Arles has long occupied the attention of travellers and
artists, and perhaps no building, or part of one, in this style has been so
often drawn or so much admired. Two sides of it are of the same age and in
the same style as the porch (Woodcut No. 548), and equally beautiful. The
other two are somewhat later, the columns supporting pointed instead of
round arches. At Aix there is another similar to that at Arles, and fragments
of such colonnades are found in many places. That of Fontifroide (Woodcut
No. 559) is one of the most complete and perfect, and some of its capitals
are treated with a freedom and boldness, and at the same time with an
elegance, not often rivalled anywhere. They even excel—for the purpose at
least—the German capitals of the same age. Those at Elne are more curious
than those of any other cloister in France, so far as I know—some of them
showing so distinct an imitation of Egyptian work as instantly to strike any
one at all familiar with that style. Yet they are treated with a lightness and
freedom so wholly mediæval as to show that it is possible to copy the spirit
without a servile adherence to the form. Here, as in all the examples, every

capital is different—the artists revelling in freedom from restraint, and
sparing neither time nor pains. We find in these examples a delicacy of
handling and refinement of feeling far more characteristic of the South than
of the ruder North, and must admit that their architects have in these
cloisters produced objects with which nothing of the kind we have in
England can compete.

CHAPTER II.

AQUITANIA.

CONTENTS.
Churches at Périgueux, Souillac, Angoulême, Alby, Toulouse, Conques,
Tours.—Tombs.

The moment you pass the hills forming the watershed between the rivers
flowing to the Mediterranean and those which debouch into the Bay of
Biscay, you become aware of having left the style we have just been
describing to enter upon a new architectural province. This province
possesses two distinct and separate styles, very unlike one another both in
character and detail. The first of these is a round arched tunnel-vaulted
Gothic style, more remarkable for the grandeur of its conceptions than for
the success with which those conceptions are carried out, or for beauty of
detail. The second is a pointed-arched, dome-roofed style peculiar to the
province.
The existence of this peculiar form of art in this part of France, where it
is alone found, is quite sufficient to establish the pre-existence in this
province of a race differing from that inhabiting the rest of the country,
though it is not at present easy to determine their origin. From the
prevalence of Basque terminations to the names of the principal towns in
the district, and from the fragments of that people still existing on its
southern frontier, it would appear most likely that they were the influencing
race. If so, their love of domes would be almost sufficient to establish their
claim to a Turanian origin, for though domes are found, no doubt, farther
north, it is in a modified form. These phenomena are, however, sufficient to
induce us to include for the present in the province of Aquitaine the

doubtful districts of the Angoumois and
Vendée, though it is possible that these
provinces may eventually turn out to
belong more properly to Anjou.
In describing them, it may be
convenient to take the domical style
first, as its history—with one or two
exceptional examples in the
neighbouring provinces—begins and
ends here. It will, no doubt, be found
beyond the Pyrenees so soon as it is
looked for; but in a country whose
architecture has been so imperfectly
investigated as has been the case in
Spain, fifty different styles might exist
without our being cognizant of the fact.

562. Plan of St. Front,
Périgueux. (From F. de Verneilh,
‘Architecture Byzantine en
France.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

563. Part of St. Front, Périgueux.
(From Verneilh.)

The principal and best preserved example of the domical style of
Aquitaine is the church of St. Front, Périgueux. As will be seen from the
woodcut No. 562, its plan is that of a Greek cross, 182 ft. each way
internally, exclusive of the apse, which is comparatively modern, and of the
ante-church and porch, shaded darker, extending 150 ft. farther west, which
are the remains of an older church, now very much mutilated, and to which
the domical church was added in the 12th century.
Both in plan and dimensions, it will be observed that this church bears an
extraordinary and striking resemblance to that of St. Mark’s, Venice,
illustrated in Book II. The latter church, however, has the angles so filled up
as to reduce it to the more usual Greek form of a square, while its front and

lateral porches are additions of a magnificence to which the church of St.
Front can lay no claim. The five cupolas are of nearly the same size, and are
similarly placed, in both churches; and the general similarity of
arrangement points certainly to an identity of origin. Both too would seem
to be of about the same age, and there is now some reason to doubt the data
on which M. Félix de Verneilh[26] arrived at the conclusion that the church
we now see was erected in the very beginning of the 11th century. There is,
however, one striking difference—that all the constructive arches in St.
Front are pointed, while those of St. Mark’s are round. The form too of the
cupolas differs; and in St. Front the piers that support the domes, having
been found too weak, have been cased to strengthen them, which gives
them an awkward appearance, from which St. Mark’s is free. The difference
that would strike a traveller most is, that St. Mark’s retains its frescoes and
decorations, while St. Front, like almost all the churches of its age, presents
nothing now but naked bare walls, though there cannot be a doubt that it
was originally painted. This indeed was the legitimate and appropriate
mode of decoration of all the churches of this age, till it was in a great
measure superseded by the invention of painted glass.
The cupolas are at the present day covered with a wooden roof; but their
original appearance is represented with tolerable correctness in the woodcut
No. 563, which, though not so graceful as Eastern domes usually are, are
still a far more picturesque and permanent finishing for a roof than the
wooden structures of the more Northern races. Its present internal
appearance, from the causes above mentioned, is singularly bare and
gloomy, and no doubt utterly unworthy of its pristine splendour.
The tower stands at the intersection between the old and new churches,
and its lower part at least is so classical in its details, that it more probably
belongs to the older Latin church than to the domical one. Its upper part
seems to have been added, and its foundation strengthened, at the time the
eastern part was built.

564. Interior of Church at Souillac. (From Taylor and
Nodier.)

St. Front is perhaps the only existing specimen of a perfect Greek cross
church with cupolas. That of Souillac is a good example of a modification
of a form nearly similar, except that the cupola forming the eastern branch
is here transferred to the western, making it thus a Latin instead of a Greek
cross, which is certainly an improvement, as the principal space and
magnificence is thus concentrated about the high altar, which is, or should
be, the culminating point of effect. An opinion may be formed of its internal

appearance, and indeed of all the churches of this style, from the view
(Woodcut No. 564), which in reality gives it much more the appearance of
the interior of a mosque in Cairo than of a Christian church of the Middle
Ages. The building is not large, being only 205 ft. in length internally,
including the porch, and 110 across the transepts. Its age is not accurately
known, but it is usually placed by antiquaries in the 12th century on account
of its pointed arches.

565. Plan of Cathedral at
Angoulême. (From
Verneilh.) Scale 100 ft. to 1
in.

566. One Bay of Nave, Angoulême.
(From Verneilh.) No scale.

The cathedral at Angoulême (Woodcut No. 565) is another and still more
extended example of this class, having three domes in the nave; the façade
belonging probably to the 11th, the rest to the 12th century. The form of
these domes, with the arrangement of the side walls, will be understood
from the woodcut No. 566. The method adopted in this church may be
considered as typical of all this class; and, except in the mode of lighting
the upper part, is by no means inferior in architectural effect to the
intersecting vaults of after ages. The transepts here are shortened internally
so as only to give room for two small lateral chapels; but externally they are
made very imposing by the addition of two towers, one at the end of each.
This was another means of solving a difficulty that everywhere met the
mediæval architects, of giving the greatest dignity to the most holy place.
The proper and obvious mode of doing this was of course to raise a tower or
dome at the intersection of the nave and transepts, but the difficulties of
construction involved in this mode of procedure were such that they seldom
were enabled to carry it out. This can only be said, indeed, to have been
fairly accomplished in England. At Angoulême, as will be observed in the
plan, there is no passage round the altar, nor is the choir separated from the
body of the church. In Italy, and indeed in Germany, this does not seem to
have been considered of importance; but in France, as we shall presently
see, it was regarded as the most indispensable part of the arrangement of the
church, and to meet this exigency the Southern architects were afterwards

obliged to invent a method of isolating the choir, by carrying a lofty stone
railing or screen round it, wholly independent of any of the constructive
parts of the church. This, there is little doubt, was a mistake, and in every
respect a less beautiful arrangement than that adopted in the North; still, it
seems to have been the only means of meeting the difficulty in the absence
of aisles, and in some instances the richness with which the screen was
ornamented, and the unbroken succession of bassi-relievi and sculptural
ornaments, make us forget that it is only a piece of church furniture, and not
an integral part of the design of the building.
One of the earliest examples of this arrangement which
has been preserved is in the church at Moissac,
remarkable for its strange mythical sculpture and rude
pointed architecture, both belonging to the 11th century,
and as unlike anything to be found in any other part of
France as can well be conceived.
At a later age we find in the cathedral at Alby the same
system carried to its acmé, and still adhered to in all
essential parts in spite of the influence and predominance
of the pure Gothic styles, which had then so generally
superseded it. The foundation of the church was laid only
in the year 1282, and it was not so far completed as to
admit of its dedication till 1476. Its choir and fresco 567. Plan of
decorations were added by the celebrated Louis Church at
d’Amboise, who completed the whole in 1512. As will be Moissac. (From
seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 568), the church is one Taylor and
immense unbroken vaulted hall, 55 ft. in width by 262 in Nodier.) Scale
length; or adding the chapels, the internal width is 82 ft., 100 ft. to 1 in.
and the total length upwards of 300 ft.

568. Plan of Cathedral at Alby.
(From Chapuy, ‘Cathédrales
Françaises.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

As will be observed, the whole of the buttresses are internal, as is very
generally the case in the South; and where painted glass is not used, and
fresco painting is the principal mode of decoration, such a system has many
advantages. The outer walls are scarcely ever seen, and by this arrangement
great internal extent and appearance of gigantic strength is imparted, while
the whole space covered by the building is available for internal use. But
where painted glass is the principal mode of decoration, as was the case to
the north of the Loire, such a system was evidently inadmissible. Then the
walls were internally kept as flat as possible, so as to allow the windows to
be seen in every direction, and all the mechanical expedients were placed
on the outside. Admirably as the Northern architects managed all this, I
cannot help thinking, if we leave the painted glass out of the question, that

the Southern architects had hit on the more artistic arrangement of the two;
and where, as at Alby, the lower parts of the recesses between the internal
buttresses were occupied by deep windowless chapels, and the upper lights
were almost wholly concealed, the result was an extraordinary appearance
of repose and mysterious gloom. This character, added to its simplicity and
the vastness of its vaults, render Alby one of the most impressive churches
in France, and a most instructive study to the philosophical inquirer into the
principles of effect, as being a Gothic church built on principles not only
dissimilar from, but almost diametrically opposed to, those which we have
been usually accustomed to consider as indispensable, and as inherent
requisites of the style.

569. Plan of
Church of the
Cordeliers, at
Toulouse. Scale
100 ft. to 1 in.

The church of the Cordeliers at Toulouse is another remarkable example
of this class, and exhibiting its peculiarities in even a clearer light than that
at Alby. Externally its dimensions in plan are 273 ft. by 87. Those of King’s
College Chapel at Cambridge, which is the building we possess most
resembling it in plan, are 310 ft. by 84. But the nave of that chapel is only
41 ft. 6 in. clear between the piers, while in the church of the Cordeliers it is
53 ft., and except the thickness of the outer wall—about 4 ft.—the whole of
the floor-space of the plan is utilised in the interior. In so far as internal
effect is concerned this is no doubt judicious; but, as may be seen from the
view (Woodcut No. 571), the absence of any delineation of the line of
buttresses externally produces a flatness and want of accentuation in the
lower part that is highly objectionable. As will be observed from the
section, the whole of the width of the buttresses is included in the interior
on the one side. On the other it is excluded above the roof of the aisle, but a
gallery (Woodcuts Nos. 570 and 571) joins the buttress at the top, giving the
effect of a cornice and a gallery above. The church is of brick, and all the
peculiarities of the style are here found exaggerated; but there are few
churches on the Continent which contain so many valuable suggestions for
a Protestant place of worship, and no features that could not easily be
improved by judicious handling. It was built in a country where Protestant
feeling existed before the Reformation, and where consequently architects
studied more how they could accommodate congregations than provide
show-places for priests.

570. Section of Church of the
Cordeliers at Toulouse. 50 ft.
to 1 in. (From King’s ‘Study
Book.’)

571. View of Angle of Church
of the Cordeliers at Toulouse.
(From King.)

Besides those which are built wholly according to this plan, there are a
great number of churches in this province which show the influence of its
design in more respects than one, though, having been rebuilt in a
subsequent age, many of the original features are necessarily lost. The
cathedral at Bordeaux is a remarkable example of this, its western portion
being a vast nave without aisles, 60 ft. wide internally, and nearly 200 ft. in
length. Its foundations show that, like that at Angoulême, it was originally
roofed by three great domes; but being rebuilt in the 13th century, it is now

covered by an intersecting vault of that age, with two storeys of windows,
and an immense array of flying buttresses to support its thrust, all which
might have been dispensed with had the architects retained the original,
simpler, and more beautiful form of roof. The cathedral of Toulouse shows
the same peculiarity of a wide aisleless nave, leading to a choir of the usual
construction adopted in this country in the 13th and 14th centuries; and
many other examples might be quoted where the influence of the earlier
style peers through the Northern Gothic which succeeded and nearly
obliterated it.

Chevet Churches.

The Gothic churches of this province are neither so numerous nor so
remarkable as those of the domical class we have just been describing; still,
there are several examples, far too important to be passed over, and which
will serve besides in enabling us to introduce the new form of church
building which became prevalent in France to the exclusion of all others,
and which characterised the French style in contradistinction to that of other
countries.

572. Church of St. Sernin, Toulouse.
(From the ‘Archives des Monuments
Historiques.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

573. Section of the Church of St.
Sernin, Toulouse. Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.

The typical example of the style in this province is the great church of St.
Saturnin, or St. Sernin, at Toulouse, dedicated in the year 1096. The church
is 375 ft. in length and 217 in width across the transept externally. It is five-
aisled, the nave being 95 ft. in the interior, though the central aisle is only
25 ft. wide and is further contracted at the intersection by masses of
masonry subsequently added to support the central tower. It has five apsidal
and four transeptal chapels, and may therefore be considered as possessing
a complete chevet; but the church at Conques (Woodcut No. 574), in the
same style and of almost similar date, illustrates even more perfectly the
arrangement of which we are now speaking.
The nave of St. Sernin, as will be observed (Woodcut No. 573), has
double side-aisles, above the inner one of which runs a grand gallery. The
roof of this gallery—in section the quadrant of a circle—forms an abutment
to the roof of the nave, which is a bold tunnel-vault ornamented by
transverse ribs only. So far the constructive arrangements are the same as in
the transitional church of Fontifroide. Passing from the nave to the choir,
both at Toulouse and at Conques, we come upon a more extended and
complicated arrangement than we have hitherto met with. It will be
recollected that the early Romanesque apse was a simple large niche, or
semi-dome; so we found out in the Lombard style, and shall find it in the
German style when it comes to be described, and generally even in the
neighbouring Provençal style, and always—when unaltered—in the
domical style last described. In the present instance it will be seen that a
semicircular range of columns is substituted for the wall of the apse, an
aisle bent round them, and beyond the aisle there are always three, five, or
even seven chapels opening into it, which give it a complexity very
different from the simple apse of the Roman basilicas and the other styles
we have been describing, and at the same time a perspective and a play of
light and shade which are unrivalled in any similar invention of the Middle
Ages. The apse, properly speaking, is a solid semi-cylinder, surmounted by
a semi-dome, but always solid below, though generally broken by windows
above. The chevet, on the contrary, is an apse, always enclosed by an open
screen of columns on the ground-floor, and opening into an aisle, which
again always opens into three or more apsidal chapels. This arrangement is
so peculiarly French, that it may properly be characterised by the above
French word, a name once commonly applied to it, though latterly it has
given way to the more classical, but certainly less suitable, term of apse. Its

origin too is worth inquiring into, and seems to be capable of easy
explanation.
The uses which the various nations of
Christendom made of the circular form of
building left them by the Romans have been
more than once adverted to in this work. The
Italians used it almost always standing alone as
a tomb-house or as a baptistery; the Germans
converted it into a western apse, while
sometimes, as at Bonn and elsewhere, they
timidly added a porch or nave to it; but the far
more frequent practice with the Germans, and
also in England, was to build first the circular
church for its own sake, as in Italy: then the
clergy for their own accommodation added a
choir, that they might pray apart from the 574. Plan of Church at
people. Conques. (From Taylor
and Nodier.) Scale 100
The French took a different course from all
ft. to 1 in.
these. They built circular churches like other
nations, apparently in early times at least, which
were intended to stand alone; but in no instance do they appear to have
applied them as naves, nor to have added choirs to them. On the contrary,
the clergy always retained the circular building as the sacred depository of
the tomb or relic, the Holy of Holies, and added a straight-lined nave for the
people. Of this class was evidently the church which Perpetuus built in the
fifth century over the grave at St. Martin at Tours. There the shrine was
surrounded by seventy-nine pillars arranged in a circular form: the nave was
lined by forty-one—twenty on each side, with one in the centre of the west
end as in Germany. When the church required rebuilding in the 11th century
(1014?), the architect was evidently hampered by finding himself obliged to
follow the outline of the old basilica of Perpetuus, and having to labour on
the same foundation so as not to disturb either the shrine of the saint or any
other place which had become sacred in this, which was the most celebrated
and revered of the churches of Gaul. All this is made clear in the plan of the
new church (Woodcut No. 575). The arrangement of the circular part and
the nave exactly accord with the description of the old church, only that the
latter has been considerably enlarged according to the fashion of the day.

But the juxtaposition of the two shows how nearly the chevet arrangement
was completed at that time.

575. Plan of St. Martin at Tours.
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

Another church, that of Charroux, on the Loire, looks as though it had
been built in direct imitation of the church of Perpetuus. The round church
here retains its pre-eminence over the nave, as was the case in the older
examples, and thus forms an intermediate link between the old church of St.
Martin, which we know only by description, and the more modern one, of
which a plan is given (Woodcut No. 575).
St. Bénigne, Dijon, is another transitional example which may serve to
render this arrangement still more clear. It was erected in the first year of

the 11th century, and was pulled down only at the Revolution; but before
that catastrophe it had been carefully measured and described in Dom
Plancher’s ‘History of Burgundy.’ As seen by him, the foundations only of
the nave were of the original structure, for in the year 1271 one of its towers
fell, and so damaged it that the whole of that part of the church was then
rebuilt in the perfect pointed style of the day. Without entering too much
into detail, it will suffice to state that the part shaded lightly in the woodcut
(No. 577) is taken literally from Dom Plancher’s plan, regarding which
there can be no doubt, and the contemporary descriptions are so full that
very little uncertainty can exist regarding the dimensions and general
disposition of the nave.

576. Church of Charroux.
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

577. Plan of St.
Benigne, Dijon. (From
Dom Plancher’s
‘Histoire de Burgogne.’)
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

The bodies of the confessors SS. Urban and Gregory were, it appears,
originally buried in the church of St. John the Baptist, which seems to have

been the name most properly applied to this circular building; they were
afterwards transferred to the crypt below the high altar, in the rectangular
part of the church. Above the lower storey, which retained its name as a
baptistery and burial-place, was the upper church, which was dedicated to
the Virgin Mary; above that was the church of the Holy Trinity; and on the
top of the round towers, on one side the altar of St. Michael, on the other
probably that of Gabriel.
The little church of Neuvy St. Sepulchre, near Bourges, which was
erected between the years 1042 and 1046, presents precisely the same
arrangements as the church of Charroux, though on a smaller scale, there
being only one range of ten pillars in the centre. The ancient nave having
been destroyed, was replaced by a more extended one in the 12th century,
but the old arrangement can easily be traced.
In all these old churches—and they seem to have been very common in
France before the 12th century—the circular part was the most important,
but they have most of them been rebuilt; and where this has been the case,
even when the outline of the circular form was retained, the lines of the
nave were made tangents of the circle, and thus became parts of one design.
All these arrangements were perfect before the church of Conques
(Woodcut No. 574) was erected. There the architect, not being hampered by
any previous building, was allowed free scope for his design. The plan so
produced was never lost sight of by the French, but was developed into a
vast variety of beautiful forms, which we shall shortly have to examine.
When once this transformation of the round church into the chevet
termination of a basilica was effected, the French adhered to it with singular
constancy. I am not aware of their ever having built a circular church
afterwards which was intended to stand alone; and there are very few
instances of basilicas of any importance without this form of apse. Some, it
is true, have been rebuilt on old foundations, with square eastern ends, but
this is rare and exceptional, the chevet being the true and typical
termination.
The church at Conques and that of Toulouse both show it fully and
beautifully developed, though externally the chapels hardly fit pleasingly
into the general design, and look more as though their addition were an
afterthought. This, however, was soon afterwards remedied, and the
transformation made complete.

The solidity with which these churches were built, and the general
narrowness of their proportions as compared with the domical churches of
the same time and district, enabled the architects occasionally to attempt
some splendid erection on the intersection of the nave and transepts, which
is the spot where height should always be aimed at. The dome at Cruas, in
the Provençal district, has already been described (Woodcut No. 558). The
church at Conques has one as important, though dissimilar; but the finest is
that of St. Sernin at Toulouse (Woodcut No. 578), which rivals the design of
our spires at Salisbury, Norwich, and elsewhere, but its height being only
230 ft. from the ground, it cannot be compared with them in that respect.
The 3 lower storeys only are of the age of the church; the 2 upper were
added long afterwards, but were adapted with remarkably good taste.
Though differing in design and detail, their general form and outline is such
as to accord most happily with the older structure on which they are placed;
there is nevertheless a sameness of design in placing so many similar
storeys one over the other, merely diminishing in size, which is not
altogether pleasing. The general effect, however, is good, and for a central
object it is, if not the finest, certainly one of the very best which France
possesses.

578. St. Sernin, Toulouse. (From Taylor and Nodier.)

As in all French styles, the western façades of the Southern churches are
the parts on which the architects lavished their ornaments with the most
unsparing hand. Generally they are flat, and most of them now terminate
squarely, with a flat line of cornice of slight projection. Beneath this there is
generally a range of arches filled with sculpture or intended to be so—the
central one, and that only, being used as a window. Beneath this is the great
portal, on which more ornament is bestowed than on any other feature of
the building. Some of these gateways in this province, as in Provence, are

wondrous examples of patient labour, as well as models of beauty. They
possess more than the richness of our own contemporary Norman portals,
with a degree of refinement and delicacy which our forefathers did not
attain till a much later age. Some of these church-portals in Aquitaine are
comparatively simple, but even they make up for the want of sculpture by
the propriety of their design and the elegance of their composition.

579. Church at Aillas.

580. Church at Loupiac. (From Leo
Drouyn, ‘Architecture au Moyen-
Âge.’)

The church at Aillas presents a fair specimen, on a small scale, of the
class of design which is peculiar to the façades of Aquitania, though it is
doubtful if the original termination of the gable has not been lost and
replaced by the one shown in the drawing. The façade of Angoulême is
designed on the same plan, though it is much richer. Those of Civray,
Parthenay, and of many others, show the same characteristics. They appear
to have been designed, not to express the form and construction of the
interior, but, like an Egyptian propylon, as a vehicle for a most extensive
series of sculptures exhibiting the whole Bible history. Sometimes,
however, the design is more strictly architectural, as in the façade of the
church at Loupiac, where sculpture is made wholly subordinate, and the
architectural members are so grouped as to form a pleasing and effective

design, not unlike some instances found farther north and in our own
country.

581. St. Eloi, Espalion. (From Taylor and Nodier.)

The varieties of these, however, are so endless that it would be in vain to
attempt either to particularise or to describe them. Many of these
arrangements are unusual, though almost always pleasing, as in the church
at Espalion (Woodcut No. 581), where the belfry is erected as a single wall
over the chancel-arch, and groups well with the apsidal termination, though,
as in almost every instance in this country, the western façade is wanting in
sufficient feature and character to balance it.
Generally speaking, the cloisters and other ecclesiastical adjuncts are so
similar to those of Provence, as given in the last chapter, that a separate
description of them is not needed here. They are all of the columnar style,
supporting small arches on elegant capitals of the most varied and elaborate
designs, evincing that delicate feeling so prevalent in the south, which
prevented any approach to that barbarism so common farther north

whenever the architects attempted anything beyond the common range of
decoration.
The same feeling pervades the tombs, monuments, and domestic
architecture of this part of France, making them all far more worthy of
study in every minute detail than has yet been attempted. The woodcut (No.
582) represents one small example of a tomb built into a wall behind the
church of St. Pierre at Toulouse. It is one of those graceful little bits of
architecture which meet one at every turn in the pleasant South, where the
people have an innate feeling for art which displays itself in the smallest as
well as in the most important works.

582. Tomb at St. Pierre, Toulouse.
(From Taylor and Nodier.)

CHAPTER III.

ANJOU.

CONTENTS.
Cathedral at Angers—Church at Fontevrault—Poitiers—Angiovine spires.

The architectural province of Anjou cannot perhaps be so distinctly defined
as the two already described. On the north, indeed, it is separated by the
clearest line both from Normandy and from the Frankish province. But in
the south, as before remarked, it is not easy to say, in the present state of our
information, what works belong to Aquitaine and what to Anjou. Not that
there is any want of sufficient marks to distinguish between the styles
themselves, but a large portion of examples appear to belong to a sort of
debateable ground between the two. This, however, is true only of the
buildings on the borders of the province. The two capitals of Angers and
Poitiers are full of examples peculiar to them alone, and as a rule the same
remark applies to all the principal churches of the province.
The age of the greatest splendour of this province is from the accession
of Foulques Nerra in the year 989 to the death of Henry II. of England,
1190. During these two centuries its prosperity and independent power rose
to a height which it subsequently neither maintained nor ever regained.
Prior to this period the buildings found scattered here and there are few and
insignificant, but during its continuance every town was enriched by some
noble effort of the piety and architectural taste peculiar to the age. After its
conclusion the completion of works previously commenced was all that was
attempted. The rising power of the northern provinces, and of the English,
seems to have given a check to the prosperity of Anjou, which it never
thoroughly recovered; for when it did to a certain extent again become
prosperous and wealthy, it was under the influence and dominion of the

great central Frankish power which ultimately absorbed into itself all the
separate nationalities of France, and obliterated those provincial distinctions
which are so strikingly prominent in the earlier part of her history.
The plan of St. Maurice (Woodcut No. 583), the cathedral of Angers, may
be considered as a typical example of the Angiovine style, and will serve to
explain in what it differs from the northern and in what it resembles the
southern styles. On comparing it with the plan of Souillac, and more
especially with that of the cathedral at Angoulême, it will be seen how
nearly it resembles them—the great difference being that, instead of cupolas
over each square compartment, it has the intersecting vault of the northern
styles. Its buttresses too are external, but less in projection than might be
generally considered necessary to support a vault 52 ft. in span. They
moreover show a tendency towards a northern style of construction; but the
absence of free-standing pillars or of aisles, and the general arrangement of
the whole building, are rather southern peculiarities. Externally the façade
has been successively piled up at various times from the 12th century, when
the body of the church was commenced and nearly finished, to the 16th,
when it was completed in the style of the Renaissance.

583. Cathedral at Angers.
(From Faultrier, ‘Anjou et ses
Monuments.’) Scale 100 ft. to
1 in.

584. St. Trinité, Angers.
(From Faultrier.) Scale 100
ft. to 1 in.

Another church in the same city, of equal interest, though not so large or
important, is that of the Trinité. It consists of one nave without transepts, 52
ft. wide measuring into the recesses, though it is only 32 ft. wide between
the piers. It is roofed with an intersecting vault in eight compartments, of
somewhat northern pattern, but with a strong tendency towards the domical
forms of the Southern style. It possesses, moreover, a peculiarity rather
frequently attempted, viz., that of trying to attain a greater appearance of
length by lowering the vaults from the entrance towards the altar. Thus, at
the entrance the building is 80 ft. in height, but it gradually sinks to 65 at
the eastern end. This contrivance is a mere trick, and, like all such in
architecture, is a failure.

The details of this church are rich and good throughout, and altogether
the effect of the 7 recesses on each side is pleasing and satisfactory. Indeed
it may be considered as the typical and best example of that class of
churches, of which a later specimen was the cathedral at Alby, described in
the last chapter, and which are so beautiful as to go far to shake our absolute
faith in the dogma that aisles are indispensably necessary to the proper
effect of a Gothic church.

585. View of the Interior of
Loches. (From a Sketch by the
Author.)

586. Plan of Church at
Fontevrault. (From
Verneilh.) Scale 100 ft.
to 1 in.

Even more interesting than either of these, in an archæological point of
view, is the little castle chapel at Loches, commenced by Geoffrey Grise
Gonelle, Count of Anjou, in the year 962, and continued by his son,
Foulques Nerra, to whom the nave must be ascribed; while the western
tower is probably the only part now remaining of the older church. The
eastern portion was rebuilt in the 12th century by Thomas Pactius, the prior,
and completed in 1180—the latter part being in the well-known Norman
style of that age. An interesting point in this church is that the Norman
round-arch style is built over and upon the pointed arches of the nave,
which are at least a century older, having been erected between the years
987 and 1040. It will be seen from the view given of this chapel that the
pointed style here used has nothing in common with the pointed
architecture of the North of France, but is that of the South, such as we have
seen in the churches of Périgueux and Souillac. It is used here, as there, to

support domes. These, however, in this instance, instead of being circular,
are octagonal, and rise externally in octagonal straight-lined cones of stone-
work, giving a very peculiar but interesting and elegant outline to the
building. They also point out a method by which roofs at least as high as
those which afterwards prevailed could have been obtained in stone if this
mode of vaulting had been persevered in. The church of St. Sergius at
Angers has pointed arches, certainly of an earlier date, but whether so old as
this is not quite certain.
It has already been
suggested that all circular
churches were originally
sepulchral, or intended to be
so. There can also be little
doubt but that the halves of
round churches, which, as
explained above, were
adopted as the chevet
termination of French
basilicas, were also intended
either to symbolise a tomb-
587. View of Chevet at Fontevrault. (From house or relic shrine, or
Faultrier.) actually to serve as the
sepulchres of distinguished
personages. This certainly
appears to have been the case in the earlier French examples, and among
these one of the most splendid in this province, indeed, almost the only one
of any real importance, is that of Fontevrault, where repose, or rather
reposed, the remains of two of our Plantagenet kings, Henry II. and Richard
I., with others of their family. As will be seen from the woodcut (No. 587),
it is a mausoleum worthy of them, and a pleasing example of the style of
the age, and though certainly not so peculiarly Angiovine as the apsidal
churches of Angers and Poitiers, has still distinguishing characteristics
which are not found in any other province of France. The nave is
surmounted by four domes, as is usual in this and the more southern
provinces, and it is only in having an aisle trending round the apse that it
differs from the ordinary churches. It may be seen from the plan (Woodcut

No. 586) how awkwardly this is done, and how ill its narrow dimensions
agree with the spaciousness of the nave.

588. Elevation of one of the
Bays of the Nave at
Fontevrault. (From Verneilh.)

Woodcut No. 588 demonstrates how similar the domes of its nave are to
those of Angoulême, Souillac, and those of the South—this domical
arrangement being, in fact, as characteristic of this age and locality as the
intersecting vault afterwards became of the Northern provinces.

589. Façade of Church of Notre Dame at Poitiers. (From
Chapuy, ‘Moyen-Âge Monumental.’)

If the apse or chevet of this church is not so strictly Angiovine as other
examples, the façade of the church of Notre Dame de Poitiers (shown in
Woodcut No. 589) is not open to the same remark, being strictly local in all
its parts. Originally the one window it possessed was circular; but in the
15th century, as may be seen from the mouldings then introduced, it was cut
down to its present form, no doubt to make more room for painted glass,
which at that age had superseded all other modes of decoration: whereas in

the 12th century, to which the church belongs, external sculpture and
internal mural paintings were the prevailing modes of architectural
expression. It will be observed from the preceding woodcut that sculpture is
used in a profusion of which no example belonging to a later age exists; and
though we cannot help admiring the larger proportions and broader masses
of subsequent builders, still there is a richness and a graphic power in the
exuberant sculpture of the earlier façades which we miss in after ages, and
of which no mere masonic excellence can ever supply the place.
This, though not the largest, is probably the best and richest church of its
class in this province. The border churches of Parthenay, Civray, and
Ruffec, all show traces of the same style and forms all more or less richly
carried out; but none have the characteristic corner towers, nor do they
retain their pedimented gable so perfect as Notre Dame at Poitiers.
Besides this one there are four churches in Poitiers, all which were
certainly erected in the 11th century, and the greater part of them still retain
unaltered the features of that age. The oldest, St. Hilaire (A.D. 1049), is
remarkable for an irregularity of plan sufficient to puzzle all the antiquaries
of the land, and which is only to be accounted for on the supposition of its
having been built on the foundation of some earlier church, which it has
replaced.
Montierneuf (1066) possesses in its nave a circular-headed tunnel-vault,
ornamented with transverse ribs only, but resting on arches which cut
slightly into it. It has no string-course or plain wall, as is usual in the South,
and in this shows a tendency towards intersecting vaulting, indicative of an
approach to the Northern style.
The most remarkable parts of St. Porchaire and St. Radegonde are their
western towers, which are fine specimens of their class, especially that of
the latter, which changes pleasingly into an octagon before terminating in a
short spire. Altogether this church shows that elegance of feeling the want
of which is a chief defect of the contemporary Norman style.
The cathedral of Poitiers was founded in the year 1161. Its eastern end
belongs to a transitional period, while its western front was not completed
till the pointed Gothic style had reached its utmost perfection, 200 years
later. Its plan, however, probably belongs to the earlier period, and presents
so strong a contrast to the Northern churches of the same date that it may be
quoted here as belonging to the style which we are describing. The east end

is square externally, but internally it
contains 3 shallow niches like those
on each side of St. Trinité at
Angers. Its transepts are mere
chapels; but its most remarkable
feature is the convergence of its
sides towards the east; and as its
vault sinks also towards that end, a
false perspective is attained which
certainly at first sight gives the
church an appearance of greater
length than it really possesses. The
3 aisles, too, being of the same
height, add to the effect of space; so
that, taken as a whole, this church
may be quoted as the best example
known of the system of attaining a
certain effect by these means, and is
well worthy of study on this
account. It, however, I think, admits
of no doubt that the Northern
architects were right in rejecting all
590. Plan of Cathedral at Poitiers. these devices, and in basing their
(From Coulier’s ‘Histoire de la efforts on better understood and
Cathédrale de Poitiers.’) Scale 100 more honest principles.
ft. to 1 in.

591. Spire at Cunault. (From
Faultrier.)

It is in this province that, proceeding from the South, spires are first
found in common use. The characteristic of the South is the square flat-
roofed tower or octagonal dome. In Anjou, towers standing by themselves,
and crowned by well-proportioned spires, seem early to have been
introduced, and to have been considered almost essential parts of church
architecture. The representation (Woodcut No. 591) of that attached to the
interesting church of Cunault, on the Loire, is of the most common type.
There is another at Chemillé, almost exactly like it, and a third on the road
between Tours and Loches, besides many others which but slightly differ
from these in detail. They all want the aspiring lightness afterwards attained
in Gothic spires; but their design and ornaments are good, and their outlines
well suited to the massive edifices to which they are attached.

Most of the conventual buildings attached to the churches in this
province have disappeared, either during the struggle with the Huguenots,
or in the later and more disastrous troubles of the Revolution, so that there
is scarcely a cloister or other similar edifice to be found in the province.
One or two fragments, however, still exist, such as the Tour d’Évrault.[27]
This is a conventual kitchen, not unlike that at Glastonbury, but of an earlier
age, and so far different from anything else of the kind that it was long
mistaken for a building of a very different class.
Another fragment, though probably not ecclesiastical, is the screen of
arches recently discovered in the hôtel of the Prefecture at Angers. As a
specimen of elaborate exuberance in barbarous ornament it is unrivalled
even in France, but it is much more like the work of the Normans than
anything else found in the neighbourhood. Owing to its having been so long
built up, it still retains traces of the colouring with which all the internal
sculptures of this age were adorned.
The deficiency in ecclesiastical buildings in this province is made up in a
great measure by the extent and preservation of its Feudal remains, few of
the provinces of France having so many and such extensive fortified castles
remaining. Those of Angers and Loches are two of the finest in France, and
there are many others scarcely less magnificent. Few of them, however,
have features strictly architectural; and though the artist and the poet may
luxuriate on their crumbling time-stained towers and picturesque decay,
they hardly belong to such a work as this, nor afford materials which would
advance our knowledge of architecture as a fine art.

CHAPTER IV.

AUVERGNE.

CONTENTS.
Church at Issoire—Clermont—Fortified Church at Royat.

The last of the Southern provinces which requires to be distinguished is that
of Auvergne, one of the most beautiful as well as one of the most complete
of the round Gothic styles of France. The country in which it is found is as
distinctly marked out as the style, for no naturalist can cross the frontier of
the territory without at once being struck by the strange character of its
scenery. It is a purely volcanic country, to which the recently extinguished
craters impart a character not found in any other province of France.
Whether its inhabitants are of a different race from their neighbours has not
yet been investigated. At all events, they retain their original characteristics
less changed than any other people inhabiting the South of France. Their
style of architecture is distinct, and early reached a degree of perfection
which no other in France had then attained; it has, moreover, a greater
resemblance than we have hitherto found in France to the Lombard and
Rhenish styles of architecture. The other styles of Southern France—
whatever their beauties may be—certainly never reached that degree of
independent completeness which enables us to class that of Auvergne
among the perfected styles of Europe.
In the department of Puy de Dome there are at least four churches of the
typical form of this style, which have been edited by M. Mallay—those of
Issoire, of N. D. du Port at Clermont, of Orcival, and of St. Nectaire—
which only differ from one another in size, and in the arrangement of their
apsidal chapels. That of Issoire has a square central chapel inserted, which

is wanting at Clermont and Orcival, while St. Nectaire
has only three instead of four apsidal chapels.
The largest of these is that of Issoire, of which a
plan is here given, from which it will be seen that,
though small, it is beautifully arranged. The transepts
are just sufficiently developed to give expression to
the exterior, and to separate the nave from the choir,
which are beautifully proportioned to one another.

592. Church at
Issoire. (From
Mallay.) Scale
100 ft. to 1 in.

593. Elevation of Church at Issoire. (From Mallay.) Scale 50
ft. to 1 in.

They all possess central towers, raised on a mass of masonry extending to
the whole width of the church, which gives them a breadth of base found in
no other style. The want of this is painfully felt in most of our own central
spires, all of which need something more to stand upon than the central
roof, out of which they seem to grow; but I do not know that any attempt
was ever made to remedy the difficulty anywhere but in Auvergne. All these
churches were intended to have western towers, the massive foundations for
which are found in every example, though there does not appear to be a
single instance in which these exist in a complete state.
The side-aisles are always
covered by intersecting vaults, but
that of the nave is invariably a
simple tunnel-vault, as in the
Southern styles, ornamented by
occasional transverse ribs, and
which in the church at Issoire is
slightly pointed.
To support this great vault, a
semi-vault is carried over the side-
aisles—as shown in the section—
594. Section of Church at Issoire, which forms a massive and perfect
looking East. (From Mallay.) Scale abutment to the thrust of the great
50 ft. to 1 in. arch, besides, as before pointed out,
rendering the vault independent of a
wooden covering, which, though in
some instances supplied, was certainly not originally intended. The defect
of this arrangement is of course evident, as compared with the Northern
styles, inasmuch as a clerestory was impossible, and the only effective light
that could be admitted was through the side-aisles. These churches,
however, have an approach to a clerestory not found in that at Fontifroide,
before quoted, in having a triforium or range of arches opening into the
gallery, which gave a lightness of character to the superstructure, and
admitted to a certain extent a borrowed light.

595. Elevation of Chevet, Notre Dame du Port,
Clermont. (From Chapuy.) No scale.

Externally, the projection of the buttresses is slight, and they are
connected by arches, struck from the same centres as the windows, above
which three small arches relieve and ornament the upper part of the nave.
The central arch of these is pierced with the small window which lights the
upper gallery. Above this is a cornice of more elegance and of greater
projection than is usually found in churches of this age.
The most beautiful and most admired feature of the style is the
arrangement of the chapels of the chevet externally.
In the view given above of St. Sernin, Toulouse (Woodcut No. 578), as in
almost all the churches of that style, it will be observed how awkwardly
these chapels are stuck on, as if they were afterthoughts, and altogether
foreign to the main lines of the building. Here, however, all the parts are
pleasingly subordinated one to the other, and the whole are so grouped as to
form a design equal, if not superior, to the galleried apses of the German
and Lombard churches. The place of these galleries is here supplied by a
mosaic decoration formed with the different coloured lavas of the extinct
volcanoes of the district, which gives not only a pleasing local character to

the style, but is interesting as the only specimen of external polychromatic
decoration now to be found so far to the north. In effect, this is perhaps
hardly equal to the open galleries of the German churches; but the expense
must have been considerably less, and the variety of the outline of the
chevet arrangement, as compared with the simple apse, gives to these
churches some advantages over the contemporary buildings on the Rhine.
Indeed, as far as external decoration is concerned, it may be questioned
whether the French ever surpassed these; and had they been carried out on
the same scale as those of Amiens and Chartres, they would probably be
thought more beautiful. It is true the flying buttresses and pinnacles of the
pointed style enabled the architects to introduce far larger windows and
gorgeous decorations of painted glass, and so to improve the internal effect
of their churches to an immense extent; but this was done at the sacrifice of
much external simplicity of outline and propriety of effect, which we cannot
but lament could not be reconciled with the requisite internal arrangements.

596. Plan of Chevet, Notre Dame du Port, Clermont.
(From Chapuy.) No scale.

The age of these churches is not very well ascertained. M. Mallay is
inclined to place them principally in the 10th century, though the pointed
form of the vault at Issoire induces him to bring that down to the 12th
century; but we have seen enough to know that such a pointed form, on the
contrary, is more likely to be ancient than the rounded one, which requires

better construction, although in that age it was thought more beautiful. My
own impression is, that they belong generally to the 11th century, though
some were no doubt commenced in the 10th, and probably continued to the
12th; but their uniformity of style is such, that not more than one century
could have elapsed between the first and the last. Only one circular church,
so far as I know, is found in the district. It is a sepulchral chapel in the
cemetery at Chambon, small in size, being only 26 ft. wide over all, but
elegant in its proportions, and showing the same style of decoration as the
apses of the larger churches.

597. Fortified Church at Royat. (From Gailhabaud.)

Among the exceptional churches of this district, one of the most
interesting is that of Royat, illustrated in Woodcut No. 597, being a
specimen of a fortified church, such as are sometimes, though not
frequently, found in France. That at Maguelonne, quoted above (p. 57), is
another, and there are several others in the South of France; but none
probably either so complete or showing so many castellated features as this.

In its ruined state we lose the western, or possibly the central tower, which
might have somewhat restored its ecclesiastical character; but even as it is,
it is a singularly picturesque and expressive building, though it speaks more
of war and bloodshed than of peace and goodwill to all men.

CHAPTER V.

BURGUNDY.

CONTENTS.
Church of St. Martin d’Ainay—Cathedral at Le-Puy-en-Velay—Abbeys of
Tournus and Cluny—Cathedral of Autun—Church of St. Menoux.

The province of Burgundy was architecturally one of the most important in
France during the Middle Ages, but one the limits of which it is difficult to
define. This is partly owing to the extreme fluctuation of the political power
of the kingdom or dukedom, or whatever it might be, but more to the
presence of two distinct peoples within its limits, the one or other of which
gained the ascendancy at various intervals, and according as each was in
power the architectural boundaries of the province appear to have changed.
In Provence the Roman or Classical element remained superior down to the
time when Paris influenced that province as it did all the rest of France; but
this event did not take place till very nearly the end of the Gothic period. In
Burgundy, on the other hand, the Classical and Barbarian streams flowed
side by side—at times hardly mingling their waters at all, but at others so
amalgamated as to be undistinguishable, while again in remote corners
either style is occasionally found to start up in almost perfect purity.
It would add very much to the clearness of what follows if we could tell
who the Burgundians were and whence they came: neither of which
questions appears as yet to have received a satisfactory solution. That they
differed in many respects from the other Barbarians who assisted in
overthrowing the Roman Empire will probably be admitted; but in the
present stage of ethnographic knowledge it may seem too daring to assert
that they had Turanian blood in their veins, and were Buddhists in religion,
or belonged to some cognate faith, before they settled on the banks of the
Saône or the Rhone. Yet if this were not so, it appears impossible to account

for the essentially monastic form which characterised this province during
the whole Gothic period.
From the time at least when St. Gall and Columban settled themselves at
Luxeuil till late in the Middle Ages, this country was the first and principal
seat of those great monastic establishments which had so overwhelming an
influence on the faith and forms of those times. We must go either to India
in the flourishing period of Buddhism, or to Thibet in the present day, to
find anything analogous to the monastic establishments of the 11th century
in this district. All these monasteries have now passed away, and few have
left even any remains to attest their former greatness and magnificence. The
great basilica of Cluny, the noblest church of the 11th century, has been
wholly removed within the present century. Clairvaux was first rebuilt in
the style of the Renaissance, but has been finally swept away within the last
few years. Citeaux perished earlier, and little now remains to attest its
former greatness. Luxeuil is an obscure village. The destruction of the
church of St. Benigne, at Dijon, has already been referred to, and it would
be easy to swell the catalogue of similar consequences of the great
Revolution.
Tournus still remains, and at Vezelay fragments exist. Charlier, Avallon,
Autun, Langres, and Besançon, still possess in their cathedrals and churches
some noble remnants of Burgundian architecture. Besides these, there are
numerous parish churches and smaller edifices which would easily enable
us to make up a history of the style, were they carefully examined and
drawn. The architecture of Burgundy, however, has not yet been examined
with the attention it deserves, and it would require long and patient personal
investigation to elucidate its peculiarities.
The church of St. Martin d’Ainay at Lyons is an early and beautiful
specimen of the style when used without any classical influence; yet four
Roman pillars support the intersection of the nave and transept. Its western
front (Woodcut No. 598) was erected probably in the 10th century, and is
decorated with colours and patterns which are characteristic of the style.
Nor does there seem any reason for doubting but that the pointed arch of the
entrance doorway belongs to the period to which the church is assigned.
The cathedral of Le-Puy-en-Vélay is another example of the same style.
[28]
The east end and the two first bays of the nave belong to the 10th
century. The church progressed westward at the rate of two bays in a

century till the last two were completed
with the wonderful cavernous porch under
them about the year 1180. The whole
length of the church is 215 ft., and its
width across the nave is a little over 80.
Externally its most remarkable feature is
the façade of the south transept, which is
perhaps the richest and most elaborate
specimen of the Ainay style of decoration
existing. On the north side is the cloister,
which is a singularly elegant specimen of
the style, but very classical in detail. The
pillars are almost Corinthian in outline
(Woodcut No. 599), but the blunder the
Romans made when using pillars with
arches has in this case been avoided. If
reference is made to Woodcuts 211 and
213, or to any others representing the
classical form, the difference will be at
once perceived. In both instances the
pillars were used merely as ornaments, but
598. Façade of St. Martin with the Romans they were nothing but
d’Ainay. (From a drawing by useless additions, without even the
J. B. Waring.) No scale. pretence of utility. In this cloister they
support the arches, and are veritable parts
of the construction. It would be difficult to find any apter illustration of
Pugin’s famous antithesis than these examples of Roman and Burgundian
architecture—the one is constructed ornament, the other ornamented and
ornamental construction—and notwithstanding its rudeness, the Burgundian
example is far more pleasing than the Roman, and, if used with classical
details, this arrangement might now be introduced into any Italian design
with the most satisfactory effect.

599. Cloister of Cathedral of Le-Puy-
en-Vélay. (From a Photograph.)

The church of St. Bénigne at Dijon, mentioned above, was one of the
oldest in Burgundy, and was probably an excellent type of the style of that
country. But its total destruction and the insufficiency of the plates
published by Dom Plancher[29] preclude anything like a satisfactory study of
it. The abbey church of Tournus (Woodcut No. 600) is perhaps nearly as
old, its antiquity being manifested by the rudeness both of its design and
execution. The nave is separated from the aisles by plain cylindrical
columns without bases, the capitals of which are united by circular arches at
the height of the vaults of the aisle. From the capitals rise dwarf columns
supporting arches thrown across the nave. From one of these arches to the
other is thrown a transverse tunnel-vault, which thus runs the cross way of
the building; being, in fact, a series of arches like those of a bridge
extending the whole length of the nave. This is, I believe, the only known
instance of this arrangement, and is interesting as contrasting with the

longitudinal tunnel-vaults so common both in this province and in the
South.
It is a curious instance of
an experiment, the object of
which was the getting over
those difficulties afterwards
removed by the invention of
the intersecting vault. In the
meantime this Tournus roof
offered some advantages well
worthy of consideration. The
first of these was that the
thrust of the vault was wholly
longitudinal, so that only the
supporting arches of the
transverse vaults required to
be abutted. These being low
and in a well-defined
direction were easily
provided for. Another
advantage was, that it
allowed of a large and well-
defined clerestory, which, as
we have seen, was impossible
with the longitudinal vaults.
On the other hand it might
seem to be a fatal objection 600. View of Interior of Abbey at Tournus.
that the eye instead of being (From Taylor and Nodier.)
conducted pleasingly along
the vault was continually interrupted by a series of cross barrel vaults; this
objection, however, is more theoretical than practical, for, owing to the
abundant light which enters through the clerestory windows (not suggested
at all in the woodcut), and the fact that from the west end looking down the
nave the barrel vaults are scarcely seen, the general effect is most pleasing,
and it is singular that so happy a solution of the problem, both artistically
and constructively, should not have been followed, or that this should be an
unique example. The columns in the apse are carried on a podium 6 ft. high,

similar to that found in the Holy Sepulchre, which was built by the
Crusaders, and constitute a pleasing variety to the ordinary apsidal
termination. A crypt of much earlier date exists under the whole choir, and
is specially interesting as showing in its vault the rough centering on which
it was apparently built.

601. Plan of Abbey Church at
Cluny. (From Lorain’s ‘Histoire
de l’Abbaye.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1
in.

In the nave of this church all the arches are circular; in the choir, which
dates early in the 11th century, if not before, and which is perhaps older
than the nave, the great transverse arches are slightly pointed, and support
at the intersection a dome (the pendentives of which are formed of
squinches carried on wall-shafts), which forms the most beautiful feature in
the church. Similar features are found in the churches of le Puy-en-Vélay,
St. Martin d’Ainay at Lyons and elsewhere.
The pride of Burgundy was the great abbey church of Cluny, which, with
its narthex or ante-church, measured 580 ft. in length, or considerably more
than any other church erected in France in any age. Its nave was throughout
37 ft. 6 in. in width, and it had double side-aisles, making the total internal
width 120 ft., while the whole area covered by it was upwards of 70,000 sq.
ft. But colossal as these dimensions are, they convey no adequate idea of its
magnificence. The style throughout was solid and grand, and it must have
possessed a degree of massive magnificence which we so frequently miss
among the more elegant beauties of subsequent erections.
The semi-dome of the chevet was supported by eight noble columns,
through which was seen in perspective a circle of five apsidal chapels.
Externally the roof was crowned by five larger and three smaller towers;
and the whole was carried up solidly to a height unrivalled among the
buildings of this age. What added to its interests was, that the church at least
was at the time of its destruction an almost unaltered specimen of the
architecture of the 11th and 12th centuries, having been commenced in
1089 by St. Hugues, and dedicated in 1131. The narthex or ante-chapel,
though somewhat more modern, was probably completed within the limits
of the 12th century. These dates have been disputed, but principally on
account of the theories prevalent regarding the origin of the pointed arch.
This feature was used here, as it is found elsewhere, in all the pier arches
separating the nave from the aisles—the vaulting of the aisles having
probably been also pointed, while the great vault of the church is a plain
tunnel-vault with transverse ribs on its surface. That of the narthex is a
transverse vault of a later date, but of singularly clumsy construction.
Whether it had a clerestory or not, is not quite clear from such drawings as
we possess; but if not, it undoubtedly had a double gallery throughout, the
upper range of which, if not both, served to admit light.

We should hardly be able to make out, from the representations we
possess, what the exact ordinance of this church was were it not that some
other contemporary churches in the same style still remain to us. Among
these, one of the most perfect is the cathedral at Autun, formerly the chapel
of the dukes of Burgundy, commenced about the year 1090, and
consecrated 1132. The arrangement of its nave is extremely similar to that
of Cluny, with these differences, that at Autun, the great vault is slightly
pointed, and attached to the piers of the nave are pilasters instead of three-
quarter columns. In the ante-church, however, at Cluny, the same pilastered
arrangement occurs. This is the characteristic of the true Burgundian style,
and so peculiar is it, and so classical, that some antiquaries have not
hesitated to consider it as a bad imitation of Gothic forms belonging to the
15th or 16th centuries. In fact the fluted columns or pilasters, their
Corinthian capitals, and the whole arrangements are so eminently classical,
as almost to justify the doubt in those who are not familiar with the history
of the southern styles of France. There can, however, be no doubt as to the
age of these examples, and as little as to the models from which they are
copied; for in this very city of Autun we have two Roman gateways (one of
which is represented in Woodcut No. 218), and there are others at Langres
and elsewhere, which, except in the pointed arch and other constructive
peculiarities, are almost identical with the style of these churches. Whether
from want of familiarity with this style, or from some other cause, it
certainly is not pleasing to our eyes, and we therefore turn with pleasure to
the ruder but more purpose-like inventions of the purely Gothic architects
of the same age.

602. View in Aisle at
Autun. (From Chapuy,
‘Cathédrales
Françaises.’)

603. View in Nave at
Autun. (From Chapuy.)

Among these the province affords no more beautiful specimen than the
nave of the church of Vezelay, which possesses all the originality of the
Norman combined with the elegance of the southern styles. In this
specimen the pier arches are wide and low, there is no triforium of any sort,
and the windows are small. The vault is formed by immense transverse ribs,
crossing from pier to pier, and forming square compartments, each divided
by plain intersecting arches, without ribs, and rising considerably in the
centre. This certainly is an improvement on the vault at Cluny, though it
cuts the roof too much up into divisions. Perhaps its greatest defect is its
want of height, being only 60 ft. in the centre, while the total width is 86 ft.
from wall to wall. But the details of the whole are so elegant as in a great
measure to redeem these faults.
The narthex, or ante-church, resembles that at Cluny both in its
importance and in being somewhat more modern than the church itself. At

Vezelay (Woodcut No. 604) it
dates from the beginning of
the 12th century, while the
nave seems wholly to belong
to the 11th. It is an extremely
instructive example of the
progress of vaulting. It has
the bold transverse ribs, and
the plain intersecting vaults,
which are here in accordance
with the southern practice,
abutted by the arches of the
galleries. In the walls of the
galleries are windows large
604. Section of Narthex at Vezelay. (From
enough to admit a
Didron’s ‘Annales Archéologiques.’)
considerable amount of light.
But the vaults are here fast
losing their original purpose. The arch construction supports the solid
external roof over the side-aisles, but the central vault is covered by a
wooden roof, so that the stone vault has become a mere ceiling, leaving
only one easy step towards the completion of the plan of Gothic roofing.
This step was to collect the vaults of the side galleries into a mass over each
pier, and use them as flying buttresses, and to employ wooden roofs
everywhere, wholly independent of the vaults which they covered.
Vezelay is one of the most beautiful of the remaining churches of its age
in Burgundy, notwithstanding that the choir, which is a chevet in the early
pointed style, like those in the northern province, rather disturbs the
harmony of the whole.
Among the remaining churches of this class, the cathedral at Besançon is
one of the few double-apse churches of France, and is, in plan at least, very
much more like those we find on the banks of the Rhine.
The cathedral at Vienne, mentioned above (p. 58), might, from some of
its details, particularly the form of the pier arches, be fairly classed with this
style, showing as it does the fluted pilasters and other classical adjuncts
found here. These peculiarities are common both to this and the Provençal
style, but the boundary between them is by no means clearly defined.

605. East End, St. Menoux. (From Allier, ‘L’ancien
Bourbonnais.’)

On the northern border of the province we find the church of St. Menoux
(Woodcut No. 605), belonging certainly in many of its details to the style
we are now describing. This is most distinctly observable in the exterior of
the apse of the chevet, a feature which is seldom found unaltered; here it is
surrounded by a series of pilasters of rude classical design, which give to it
a peculiar local character. Internally too, its chevet (Woodcut No. 606) is
remarkably elegant, though less Burgundian in style. It shows to what an
extent the stilting of round arches could be used to overcome the difficulty
of combining arches of different spans, but all requiring to be carried to the
same height. Like all the old churches of the province, it possesses a large
and important narthex, here the oldest part of the church, and a rude and
characteristic specimen of a style of architecture that can hardly be later
than the 10th century.

606. Chevet, St. Menoux. (From Allier.)

These few specimens must suffice to define a style which well deserves a
volume to itself, not only on account of its own architectural merit, but from
the enormous influence exercised both by the order itself and by its
monastic founders on the civilisation of Europe in the age to which it
belongs. During the 11th and 12th centuries Cluny was more important to
France than Paris. Its influence on the whole of Europe was second only to
that of Rome—civilising barbarians by its missionaries, notwithstanding the
feudal nobility, and in many ways counteracting the ferocity of the times.

CHAPTER VI.

FRANKISH PROVINCE.

CONTENTS.
Exceptional buildings—Basse Œuvre, Beauvais—Montier-en-Der.

INTRODUCTORY.

The architecture of the Northern division of France is certainly the most
interesting subject in the whole history of the Mediæval styles, inasmuch as
it comprehends the origin and progress of that form of pointed architecture
which in the 13th century extended from Paris as a centre to the remotest
corners of Europe, pervading the whole of Germany, Britain, and even
Spain and Italy. In these countries it generally obliterated their own peculiar
styles, and usurped their places, so that it became the Gothic style par
eminence, and the only one ordinarily understood under that name. It has
gained this distinction, not perhaps so much from any inherent merit of its
own, as because it was the only one of all the Mediæval styles which was
carried beyond the simple rudiments of the art, and enjoyed the advantage
of being perfected by a powerful and united people who had advanced
beyond the first elements of civilised society. It is needless now to inquire
whether the other styles might not have been made as perfect, or more so,
had the same amount of talent and of time been bestowed upon them. All
we can say is, that no other style was so carried out, and it is impossible to
attempt it now; the pointed Gothic had therefore the opportunity which the
others were deprived of, and became the prevalent style in Europe during
the Middle Ages. Its history is, therefore, that to which attention must

always be principally directed, and from which all lessons and all
satisfactory reasoning on the subject must be principally derived.
The great divisions into which the early history of the style naturally
divides itself have already been pointed out. The great central province I
have ventured to call the Frankish. It was there that the true Gothic pointed
style was invented, and thence that it issued in the middle of the 12th
century, first pervading the two great subordinate divisions of Normandy on
the one hand, and Burgundy on the other. In Normandy, before this time, a
warlike race had raised themselves to power, and, with an inconsistency
characteristic of their state of civilisation, devoted to sacred purposes the
wealth they had acquired by rapine and plunder, covering their province
with churches, and perfecting a rude style of architecture singularly
expressive of their bold and energetic character.
In Burgundy, as we have just seen, both the style and its history differed
considerably from this. From some cause which has not yet been explained,
this country became early the favourite resort of hermits and of holy men,
who founded here those great monastic establishments which spread their
influence not only over France, but over the whole of Europe, controlling to
an immense extent all the relations of European society in the Middle Ages.
The culminating epoch of the architecture of Normandy and Burgundy was
the 11th century. In the 12th the monarchical sway of the central province
was beginning to be felt in them. In the 13th it superseded the local
character of both, and gradually fused them with the whole of France into
one great and singularly uniform architectural province.

Latin Style.[30]

Before proceeding to describe the local forms of architecture in Central
France it is necessary to say a few words regarding a class of buildings
which have not hitherto been mentioned, but which must not be passed
over. These cannot be included in any other style, and are so nearly devoid
of architectural features, properly so called, that they might have been
omitted but for one consideration. They bear so remarkable a resemblance
to the earliest Christian churches of Rome on the one hand, and to the true
Gothic on the other, that we cannot doubt their being the channel through

which the latter was derived from the
former. They are, moreover, the oldest
churches in Northern France, which is
sufficient to confirm this view.
The character of this style will be
understood from the plan and internal and
external view of one of its typical
examples, the Basse Œuvre at Beauvais
(Woodcuts Nos. 607 and 608). It will be
seen that this building consists of a nave
and side-aisles, separated from each other
by a range of plain arches resting on piers
without either bases or capitals; on one
side the angles are cut off, so as to give a
slightly ornamental character; on the other
they are left square. The central aisle is
twice the width, and more than twice the
height, of the lateral aisles, and has a
well-defined clerestory; the roof, both of
the central and side aisles, is a flat ceiling
of wood. The eastern end has been
destroyed, but judging from other 607. Plan and Section of Basse
examples, it probably consisted of three Œuvre, Beauvais. (From
apses, a large one in the centre and a Woillez, ‘Monuments
smaller one at the end of each aisle. Religieux de Beauvais.’)

608. External and Internal View of Basse Œuvre. (From
Woillez.)

The similarity of the form of this church to the Roman basilicas will be
evident on referring to the representations of those buildings, more
especially to that of San Vincenzo alle Tre Fontane (Woodcut No. 408),
though the details have nothing in common except in the use of flat tiles
between the cornices of the arches, which is singularly characteristic of
Roman masonry. The points in which this example is most evidently the
source of some of the important peculiarities of the true Gothic, are the
subordination of the side-aisles to the central one, and the perfectly
developed clerestory. These are not found in any of the styles of France
hitherto described.
Eventually, as we shall shortly see, stone became the material used in the
interior ceiling of Gothic vaults, but protected externally by a wooden roof.
This stone vault was not, I believe, attempted in France before the 11th
century. In the meanwhile, wooden-roofed churches, like that at Beauvais,
seem to have been usual and prevalent all over the North of France, though,
as may be supposed, both from the smallness of their dimensions and the
perishable nature of their materials, most of them, have been either

superseded by larger structures, or have been destroyed by fire or by the
accidents of time.
M. Woillez describes five or six as existing still in the diocese of
Beauvais, and varying in age from the 6th or 7th century, which probably is
the date of the Basse Œuvre, to the beginning of the 11th century; and if
other districts were carefully examined, more examples would probably be
found. Normandy must perhaps be excepted, for there the rude Northmen
seem first to have destroyed all the churches, and then to have rebuilt them
with a magnificence they did not previously possess.
Churches of the same class, or others at least extremely similar to them,
as far as we can judge from such representations as have been published,
exist even beyond the Loire. There is one at Savonières in Anjou, and a still
more curious one at St. Généreux in Vienne, not far from Poitiers, which
shows in great perfection a style of decoration by triangular pediments and
a peculiar sort of mosaic in brickwork.
The same style of decoration is carried
out in the old church of St. Jean at
Poitiers, which probably is even older
than the Basse Œuvre of Beauvais. The
old church, which now forms the ante-
church to St. Front at Périgueux (Woodcut
No. 562), seems also to belong to the
same class; but, if M. Félix de Verneilh’s
restoration is to be trusted, it approaches
nearer to a Romanesque style than any 609. Decoration of St.
other of its class, of which it may Généreux. (From Gailhabaud.)
nevertheless possibly be the most
southern example.
Perhaps the most interesting example of the style is the nave of the
church of Montier-en-Der, near Vassy, almost due east from Paris. It is
perfectly plain, very like San Vincenzo (Woodcut No. 408), and is a perfect
Romanesque example with a wooden roof; the design for which was
probably brought direct from Rome when this church was erected in this
remote village. What, however, gives it its greatest interest for our present
purpose arises from the fact that the apse or choir was rebuilt in the 13th
century, and we have consequently in immediate juxtaposition the

Romanesque model as it was introduced to the Barbarians, and the result of
their elaboration of it—the germ of the Gothic style and the full-blown
flower.

610. Section of Eastern portion of Church of Montier-en-Der.
(From the ‘Archives des Monuments,’ &c.)

As before pointed out (p. 49), the progress was slow in the formation of a
new style during the 1000 years that elapsed between the building of the
Temple of Diana at Nîmes and the Church at Carcassonne; but here, within
the limits of two, or at most three centuries, the progress made was so rapid
as to be startling. The inhabitants of Central France appear at once to have
comprehended the significance of the problem, and to have worked it out
with a steadiness and energy of which it must be difficult to find another
example. The nave of the church is as poor and as lean as it can well be, but
every part of the choir is ornamented, while nothing is overdone; and there
is not one single ornament which is not appropriate to its place, or which
may not fairly be considered as a part of the ornamented construction of the
building. It was an entirely new style invented on the spot, and complete in

all its parts. Some of its ornaments were afterwards made more elegant, and
more might have been done in this direction; but as here represented the
style was complete, and it is certainly one of the most beautiful creations of
the class which ever emanated from the activity of the human brain. It is
also interesting as being one of the few where every step in the progress can
be traced and every result understood.
What we have now to attempt, is to point out—as clearly as our limits
will admit of—the steps by which the rude architecture of the western half
of the church of Montier-en-Der was converted into the perfected style of
the choir as shown in the woodcut on the previous page.

CHAPTER VII.

NORMANDY.

CONTENTS.
Triapsal churches—Churches at Caen—Intersecting Vaulting—Bayeux.

With one or two slight exceptions, the whole history of the Round-arched
Norman Gothic is comprehended within a period of less than a century. No
building in this style is known to have been even commenced before the
year 1050, and before 1150 the pointed style had superseded it in its native
province. Indeed, practically speaking, all the great and typical examples
are crowded into the last fifty years of the 11th century. This was a period
of great excitement and prosperity with the Northmen, who, having at last
settled themselves in this fertile province, not only placed their dukes on an
equality with any of the powers then existing in France, but by their
conquest of England raised their chief to an importance and a rank superior
to that of any other potentate in Europe except the German emperors of that
day, with whose people they were, in fact, both by race and policy, more
closely allied than they were with those among whom they had settled.
There are two exceptional churches in Normandy which should not be
passed over in silence: one is a little triapsal oratory at St. Wandrille; the
other a similar but somewhat more important church at Querqueville, near
Cherbourg, on the coast of Brittany. Both are rude and simple in their
outline and ornaments; they are built with that curious herring-bone or
diagonal masonry indicative of great age, and differing in every essential
respect from the works of the Normans when they came into possession of
the province. Indeed, like the transitional churches last described, these
must be considered as the religious edifices of the inhabitants before that
invasion; and if they show any affinity to any other style, it is to Belgium

and Germany we must look
for it rather than anywhere
within the boundaries of
France.
Amongst the oldest-
looking buildings of pure
Norman architecture is the
church of Léry, near Pont de
l’Arche. It is the only one, so
far as is known, with a simple
tunnel-vault, and this is so
massive, and rests on piers of
such unusual solidity, as to
give it an appearance of
611. Triapsal Church, at Querqueville. immense antiquity. There is
(From Dawson Turner’s ‘Normandy.’) no good reason, however, for
believing that it really is older
than the chapel of the Tower
of London, which it resembles in most respects, though the latter is of
somewhat lighter architecture.
Passing from this we come to a series of at least five important churches,
all erected in the latter half of the 11th century. The first of these is the
church of Jumièges, the western end of which was principally erected by
Robert, afterwards Bishop of London, and finally Archbishop of
Canterbury. Its precise date is not very well known, though it was probably
begun before 1050, and certainly shows a far ruder and less complete style
of architecture than any of the later churches. It is doubtful whether it was
ever intended to throw a vault over the nave; yet the walls and piers are far
more massive than those of the churches of Caen, or that of Bocherville in
its immediate neighbourhood. This last we know to have been commenced
in the year 1050, and completed in 1066. This church still retains in a
wonderful state of completeness all the features of a Norman church of that
age—the only part of which is of a more modern date being the two western
turrets, which are at least a century later.
The next of the series is the well-known Abbaye-aux-Hommes, or St.
Stephen’s, at Caen (Woodcut No. 612), commenced by William the

Conqueror, 1066, in gratitude for his victory at Hastings, and dedicated
eleven years afterwards. Then follow the sister church of the Trinité, or
Abbaye-aux-Dames, commenced in 1083, and the parish church of St.
Nicolas at Caen, begun in the following year. These two last were almost
certainly completed within the limits of the 11th century.
Of all these the finest is St Stephen’s, which is a first-class church, its
extreme length being 364 ft. It was not originally so long, having
terminated with an apse, as shown in the plan, Fig. 1, which was superseded
about a century afterwards by a chevet, as shown, Fig. 2. This, however,
was an innovation—all the round Gothic churches in Normandy having
originally been built with apses, nor do I know of a single instance of a
chevet in the province. This circumstance points rather to Germany than to
the neighbouring districts of France for the origin of the Norman style—
indeed all the arrangements of this church are more like those of the
Rhenish basilicas, that of Spires for example, than any of those churches we
have hitherto found within the limits of France itself. This is more
remarkable at Jumièges than even here. None of them, however, has two
apses, nor are lateral entrances at all in use; on the contrary, the western
end, or that opposite the altar, is always, as in the true basilica, the principal
entrance. In Normandy we generally find this flanked by two towers, which
give it a dignity and importance not found in any of those styles we have
been examining. These western towers became afterwards in France the
most important features of the external architecture of churches, though it is
by no means clear whence they were derived. They are certainly of neither
Italian nor German derivation, nor do they belong to any of those styles of
the Southern provinces of France which we have been describing. The
churches of Auvergne are those which perhaps show the nearest approach to
them.

Fig. 1. Original Eastern
Termination.

Fig. 2.

612. Plan of the Church
of St. Stephen, Caen.
(From Ramée, ‘Histoire
de l’Architecture.’)
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

On the whole it appears most probable that the western fronts of the
Norman churches were taken from the façades of Germany, and the towers
added to give dignity to them. As will be seen from the view (Woodcut No.
613), in St. Stephen’s at Caen the feature is well marked and defined; for

though the spires were apparently added at the same time as the chevet, the
towers which support them evidently belong to the original design. They
may be regarded as the prototype of the façades of nearly all the Gothic
cathedrals of France. These western towers eventually superseded the
attempt made to raise the principal external feature of the churches on the
intersection of the nave with the transepts as had been done in the South,
and they made the western front the most important part, not only in
decoration, but in actual height. Here and throughout the North of France,
with the exception of the churches at Rouen, the central tower is low and
comparatively insignificant, scarcely even aspiring to group with those of
the western façade.

Intersecting Vaulting.

As there are few churches in France which illustrate so completely the
difficulties of intersecting vaulting, and the struggle of the Mediæval
architects to conquer them, as St. Stephen’s, Caen, it may add to the
clearness of what follows if we pause in our narrative to explain what these
were.

613. Western Façade of St. Stephen,
Caen. (From Pugin and Britton’s
‘Normandy.’)

The churches described hitherto possessed simple tunnel-vaults either of
round or pointed forms, or, having no side-aisles, were roofed with square
intersecting vaults of equal dimensions each way. The former plan was
admissible in the bright South, where light was not so much required: but
the latter expedient deprived the churches of several things which were
always felt to be the powerful requisites of an internal style of architecture.

Without the contrast in height between the central and side aisles, the true
effect of the dimensions could not be obtained. Without the internal pillars
no poetry of proportion was possible, and without an ambulatory,
processions lost their meaning. The compartments of the aisles being
square, no difficulty was experienced as regards them; but the central aisle
being both higher and wider, it became necessary either to ignore every
alternate pillar of the aisle, and to divide the central roof equally into
squares, or to adopt some compromise. This difficulty was not got over till
the pointed arch was introduced; but in the meanwhile it is very instructive
to watch the various attempts that were made to obviate it.

614. Fig. 1, after Vaulting; Fig.
2, before Vaulting. Section of
Nave of St. Stephen, Caen.

615. Diagram of Vaulting.

616. Elevation of Compartment
of Nave of St. Stephen, Caen.
(From Pugin.)

There can be little doubt that the Norman architects, with true Gothic
feeling, always intended that their churches should eventually be vaulted,
and prepared them accordingly, though in many instances they were

constructed with wooden roofs, or compromises of some sort. Even at
Jumièges, the alternate piers were made stronger, and the intention there
and in other instances seems to have been to throw a stone arch across the
nave so as to break the flat line of the roof, and give it at least a certain
amount of permanent character. In the Abbaye-aux-Hommes, Caen, even
this does not appear to have been attempted in the first instance. The
vaulting shafts were carried right up and made to support wooden trusses,
as shown on the right hand of the diagram (Woodcut No. 614).[31] The
intention, however, may have been to cut these away when the vault should
come to be erected. In England they frequently remain, but rarely, if ever, in
Normandy. The next step was to construct a quadripartite vault over the
nave, and a simple arch supporting its crown over the intermediate shaft.
This was soon seen to be a mistake, and in fact was only a makeshift. In
consequence at Caen a compromise was adopted, which the Woodcut No.
616 will explain,—a sort of intermediate vault was introduced springing
from the alternate piers.[32] Mechanically it was right, artistically it was
painfully wrong. It introduced and declared a number of purely constructive
features without artistic arrangement or pleasing lines, and altogether
showed so plainly the mere mechanical structural wants of the roof as to be
most unpleasing. Before, however, they could accomplish even this, the
side-aisles had to be re-vaulted with pointed arches so as to carry the centre
of gravity higher. A half vault was thrown over the gallery as shown in Fig.
1, on the left side of the Woodcut No. 614, and the whole upper structure
considerably strengthened. When all this was done they ventured to carry
out what was practically, as will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 612),
and elevation (Woodcut No. 616), a quadripartite vault with an intermediate
insertion, which insertion was, however, neither quite a rib, nor quite a
compartment of a vault, but something between the two; and in spite of all
the ingenuity bestowed upon it in Germany, France, and England, in the
11th and beginning of the 12th centuries, it never produced an entirely
satisfactory effect, until at last the pointed arch came to the rescue. It is easy
to see from the diagram (Woodcut No. 615) how the introduction of the
pointed arch obviated the difficulty. In the first place, supposing the great
vault to remain circular, two segments of the same circle, A B, A C, carry the
intersecting vault nearly to the height of the transverse one, or it could as
easily be carried to the same height as at D. When both were pointed, as at E
and F, it was easy to make their relative heights anything the architect

chose, without either forcing or introducing any disagreeable curves. By
this means the compartments of the vaults of the central nave were made
the same width as those of the side-aisles, whatever their span might be, and
every compartment or bay was a complete design in itself, without
reference to those next to it on either side.
The arrangement in elevation of the internal compartments of the nave of
this church will be understood from Woodcut No. 616, where it will be seen
that the aisles are low, and above them runs a great gallery, a feature
common in Italy, but rare in Germany. Its introduction may have arisen
either from a desire for increased accommodation, or merely to obtain
height, as it is evident that an arch the whole height of the side-aisles and
gallery would be singularly narrow and awkward. This was one of those
difficulties which were only got over by the introduction of the pointed
arch; but which, whenever attempted in the circular style, led to very
disagreeable and stilted effects. It may, however, have been suggested by
the abutting galleries we find so frequently used in Southern churches. Be
this as it may, the two storeys of the aisles fill up the height far more
pleasingly than could be done by one, and bring an abutment up to the very
springing of the main vault of the nave.
The worst feature in this elevation (Woodcut No. 616) is the clerestory,
where the difficulties of the vaulting introduced a lop-sided arrangement
very destructive of true architectural effect, and only excusable here from
the inherent difficulties of a first attempt.

617.
Compartment,
Abbaye-aux-
Dames, Caen.
(From Pugin.)

During the twenty or thirty years that elapsed between the building of St.
Stephen’s church and that of the Abbaye-aux-Dames, immense progress
seems to have been made towards the new style, as will be seen from the
annexed elevation of one compartment of the nave of the latter. The great
gallery is omitted, the side-aisles made higher, the piers lighter and more
ornamental. The triforium is a mere passage under the upper windows, and
so managed as not to intercept their light from any part of the church. Even
the vaulting, though in some parts hexapartite, in others shows a great
approach to the quadripartite vaulting of the subsequent age; this, however,
is obtained by bringing down the main vault to the level of the side vault,
and not by raising the side arches to the level of the central, as was
afterwards done. The greatest change is in the richness and elegance of the

details, which show great progress towards the more ornamental style that
soon afterwards came into use.

618. East End of St. Nicolas, Caen. (From Dawson Turner’s
‘Normandy.’)

The parochial church of St. Nicolas at Caen is naturally plainer than
either of these royal abbeys. It shows considerable progress in construction,
and deserves far more attention than it has hitherto met with. It is the only
church, so far as I know, in Normandy, that retains the original external
covering of its apse. This consists, as shown in the Woodcut (No. 618), of a
high pyramidal roof of stone, following to the eastward the polygonal form
of the apse, and extending one bay towards the west. From an examination
of the central tower, it is clear that this was not the original pitch of the

church roof, which was nearly as low in all Norman churches as in those of
Auvergne. In this instance the roof over the apse was a sort of semi-spire
placed over an altar, to mark externally the importance of the portion of the
church beneath it. In appearance it is identical with the polygonal cones at
Loches, before mentioned. At Bourges, and elsewhere in France, similar
cones are found over chapels and altars; but in most instances they have
been removed, probably from some defect in construction, or from their not
harmonising with the wooden roofs of the rest of the church. They were in
fact the originals of the spires which afterwards became so much in vogue,
and as such their history would be interesting, if properly inquired into.
The cathedral of Bayeux, as now standing, is considerably more modern
than either of these; no part now remains of the church of Odo, the brother
of the Conqueror, except the lower portion of the western towers, and a
crypt which is still older. The pier arches of the nave belong to the first half
of the 12th century, the rest of the church to the rebuilding, which was
commenced 1157, after the town had been burnt, and the cathedral
considerably damaged, by the soldiers of Henry I. At this time the apse was
removed to make way for a chevet, which is one of the most beautiful
specimens of early pointed Gothic to be found in France, and far surpasses
its rival in the Abbaye-aux-Hommes at Caen. In the church at Caen, the
alteration was probably made to receive the tomb of the Conqueror, when
that veneration began to be shown to his remains which was denied to
himself when dying. Here, however, the same motive does not seem to have
existed, and it is more probable that the extension was caused by the
immense increase of the priesthood in the course of the 11th and 12th
centuries, requiring a larger choir for their accommodation. We know from
the disposition of the choir, that the nave originally had a great gallery over
the side-aisles, and consequently a low clerestory. But before it was rebuilt,
in the end of the 12th or beginning of the 13th century, the mania for
painted glass had seized on the French architects, and all architectural
propriety was sacrificed to this mode of decoration. In the present instance
we cannot help contrasting the solid grandeur of the basement with the lean
and attenuated forms of the superstructure, although this attenuation was in
other examples carried to a still greater extent afterwards.
The diapering of the spandrils of the lower arches (Woodcut No. 619) is
another feature worthy of remark, as illustrating the history of the style.
Before painted glass was introduced, the walls of all churches in Northern

Europe were covered with fresco or distemper
paintings, as was then, and is to the present day,
the case in Italy. But when coloured windows
came into use, the comparative dulness of the
former mode of decoration was immediately
felt, and the use of colour confined to the more
brilliant transparent material. It was necessary to
find a substitute for the wall painting, and the
most obvious expedient was that of carving on
the stone the same patterns which it had been
customary to paint on them. An attempt was
made, indeed, to heighten the effect of this
carving by inlaying the lines with coloured
619. Lower mastic or cement; but the process was soon
Compartment, Nave, found to be not only very expensive but very
Bayeux. (From Pugin.) ineffective, and gave way afterwards to
sculptured figures in traceried panels. These
ornaments easily filled up the very small spaces
of wall that were not occupied either by the windows, which were greatly
enlarged, or by the constructive supports of the building. Now, however,
that colour is gone both from the walls and the windows, this diapering
gives a singularly rich and pleasing effect to the architecture of the lower
storey, and, combined with the massiveness and varied richness of the piers
themselves, renders this a nearly unique specimen of a Norman arcade, and
one of the most beautiful that has come down to us.
These examples are, it is hoped, sufficient to make known the general
characteristics of a style which is at the same time of great interest to the
English reader from its proximity to our shores, and from its influence on
our own, although it is comparatively so familiar as to require less
illustration than many others. Besides the examples above described, many
other specimens of Norman architecture might have been given, filling up
the details of the series, from the rude simplicity of Jumièges to the
elaborate richness of the nave of Bayeux, and showing a rapidity of
progress and boldness in treating the subject hardly surpassed in the
succeeding age; but still, with all its developments, it can only be
considered as a first rude attempt to form a style of architecture which was
superseded before its principles began to be understood, and lost before it

had received any of those finishing touches which form the great element of
beauty in all the more perfect styles.

CHAPTER VIII.

FRANKISH ARCHITECTURE.

CONTENTS.
Historical notice—The pointed arch—Freemasonry—Mediæval architects.

The architectural history of the Central or Frankish province is widely
different from that of any of those we have yet examined. At the end of the
5th century the whole of the North of France was overrun by Clovis and his
Franks, and on his death in 511 his dominions were divided into four
kingdoms, of which Metz, Paris, Soissons, and Orleans, were the capitals. If
we take these cities as centres, and add their districts together, they
correctly represent the limits of the architectural province we are now
entering upon. With various fluctuations, sometimes one kingdom,
sometimes two or even three being absorbed in one, they were at last united
under Pepin in 748, only to make way for the accession of Charlemagne
and his universal empire over the whole Gothic districts of Europe, with the
exception of England and Spain.
With the Merovingian kings we have nothing to do; they have not left
one single building from which to judge of the state of the art during their
ascendency—(they must have been Aryans pur sang)—nor can our history
with propriety be said even to begin in France with Charlemagne. His
accession marks the epoch towards which an archæologist may hope to
trace back the incunabula of the style, but as yet no single building has been
found in France which can with certainty be ascribed to his reign. The nave
at Montier-en-Der, the Basse Œuvre at Beauvais, and other buildings, may
approach his age in antiquity, but we must travel down to the time of Capet
(987) ere we find anything that can be considered as the germ of what
followed.

This may in a great measure be owing to the confusion and anarchy that
followed on the death of Charlemagne; and to the weakness of the kings,
the disorganisation of the people, and the ravages of the Northmen and
other barbarians, from which it resulted that no part of France was in a less
satisfactory position for the cultivation of the arts of peace than that which
might have been expected to take the lead in all. Thus, while the very
plunder of the Central province enabled the Normans to erect and sustain a
powerful state on the one side, and to adorn it with monuments which still
excite our admiration, and the organisation of the monks of Burgundy on
the other hand promoted the cultivation of arts of peace to an extent hardly
known before their time in Northern Europe, Central France remained
incapable even of self-defence, and still more so of raising monuments of
permanent splendour.
There must no doubt have been buildings in the Romanesque style in this
province, but they were few and insignificant compared with those we have
been describing, either in the South or in Normandy and Burgundy. Even in
Paris the great church of St. Germain des Prés, the burial-place of the earlier
kings, and apparently the most splendid edifice of the capital, was not more
than 50 ft. in width by 200 in length before the rebuilding of its chevet in
the pointed style, and it possessed no remarkable features of architectural
beauty. St. Geneviève was even smaller and less magnificent; and if there
was a cathedral, it was so insignificant that it has not been mentioned by
any contemporary historian.
Several of the provincial capitals probably possessed cathedrals of some
extent and magnificence. All these, however, were found so unsuited to the
splendid tastes of the 12th and 13th centuries, that they were pulled down
and rebuilt on a more extended scale; and it is only from little fragmentary
portions of village churches that we learn that the round Gothic style was
really at one time prevalent in the province, and possessed features
according to its locality resembling more or less those of the neighbouring
styles. So scanty indeed are such traces, that it is hardly worth while to
recapitulate here the few observations that might occur on the round Gothic
styles as found within the limits of the province.[33]
This state of affairs continued down to the reign of Louis le Gros, 1108-
1136, under whom the monarchy of France began to revive. This monarch,
by his activity and intelligence, restored to a considerable extent the

authority of the central power over the then independent vassals of the
crown. This was carried still further under the reign of his successor, Louis
le Jeune (1137-1179), though perhaps more was owing to the abilities of the
Abbé Suger than to either of these monarchs. He seems to have been one of
those great men who sometimes appear at a crisis in the history of their
country, to guide and restore what otherwise might be left to blind chance
and to perish for want of a master mind. Under Philip Augustus the country
advanced with giant strides, till under St. Louis it arrived at the summit of
its power. For a century after this it sustained itself by the impulse thus
given to it, and with scarcely an external sign of that weakness which
betrayed itself in the rapidity with which the whole power of the nation
crumbled to pieces under the first rude shock sustained in 1346 at Crecy
from the hand of Edward III.
More than a century of anarchy and confusion followed this great event,
and perhaps the period of the English wars may be considered as the most
disastrous of the whole history of France, as the previous two centuries had
been the most brilliant. When she delivered herself from these troubles, she
was no longer the same. The spirit of the Middle Ages had passed away.
The simple faith and giant energy of the reigns of Philip Augustus and St.
Louis were not to be found under Louis IX. and his inglorious successors.
With the accession of Francis I. a new state of affairs succeeded, to the total
obliteration of all that had gone before, at least in art.
The improvement of architecture, keeping pace exactly with the
improved political condition of the land, began with Louis le Gros, and
continued till the reign of Philip of Valois (1108 to 1328). It was during the
two centuries comprised within this period that pointed architecture was
invented, which became the style, not only of France, but of all Europe
during the Middle Ages; and is, par excellence, the Gothic style of Europe.
The cause of this pre-eminence is to be found partly in the accident of the
superior power of the nation to which the style belonged at this critical
period, but more to the artistic feelings of their race; and also because the
style was found the most fitted to carry out certain religious forms and
decorative principles which were prevalent at the time, and which will be
noted as we proceed.
The style, therefore, with which this chapter is concerned is that which
commenced with the building of the Abbey of St. Denis, by Suger, A.D.

1144,[34] which culminated with the building of the Sainte Chapelle of Paris
by St. Louis, 1244, and which received its greatest amount of finish at the
completion of the choir of St. Ouen at Rouen by Mark d’Argent, in 1339.
There are pointed arches to be found in the Central province, as well as all
over France, before the time of the Abbé Suger; but they are only the
experiments of masons struggling with a constructive difficulty, and the
pointed style continued to be practised for more than a century and a half
after the completion of the choir of St. Ouen, but no longer in the pure and
vigorous style of the earlier period. Subsequent to this it resembles more the
efforts of a national style to accommodate itself to new tastes and new
feelings, and to maintain itself by ill-suited arrangements against the
innovation of a foreign style which was to supersede it, and the influence of
which was felt long before its definite appearance.
The sources from which the pointed arch was taken have been more than
once alluded to in the preceding pages. It is a subject on which a great deal
more has been said and written than was at all called for by the real
importance of the question. Scarcely anything was done in pointed
architecture which had not already been done in the round-arch styles.
Certainly there is nothing which could not have been done, at least nearly as
well, and many things much better, by adhering to the complete instead of
to the broken arch. The coupling and compounding of piers had already
been carried to great perfection, and the assignment of a separate function
to each staff was already a fixed principle. Vaulting too was nearly perfect,
only that the main vaults were either hexapartite or six-celled, instead of
quadripartite, as they afterwards became; an improvement certainly, but not
one of much importance. Ribbed vaulting was the greatest improvement
which the Mediæval architects made on the Roman vaults, giving not only
additional strength of construction, but an apparent vigour and expression to
the vault, which is one of the greatest beauties of the style. This system was
in frequent use before the employment of the pointed arch. The different
and successive planes of decoration were also one of the Mediæval
inventions which was carried to greater perfection in the round Gothic
styles than in the pointed. Indeed, it is a fact, that except in window tracery,
and perhaps in pinnacles and flying buttresses, there is not a single
important feature in the pointed style that was not invented and in general
use before its introduction. Even of windows, which are the important
features of the new style, by far the finest are the circular or wheel

windows, which have nothing pointed about them, and which always fit
awkwardly into the pointed compartments in which they are placed. In
smaller windows, too, by far the most beautiful and constructively
appropriate tracery is that where circles are introduced into the heads of the
pointed windows. But, after hundreds of experiments and expedients had
been tried, the difficulty of fitting these circles into spherical triangles
remained, and the unpleasant form to which their disagreement inevitably
gave rise, proved ultimately so intolerable, that the architects were forced to
abandon the beautiful constructive geometric tracery for the flowing or
flamboyant form; and this last was so ill adapted to stone construction, that
the method was abandoned altogether. These and many other difficulties
would have been avoided, had the architects adhered to the form of the
unbroken arch; but on the other hand it must be confessed that the pointed
forms gave a facility of arrangement which was an irresistible inducement
for its adoption; and especially to the French, who always affected height as
the principal element of architectural effect, it afforded an easy means for
the attainment of this object. Its greatest advantage was the ease with which
any required width could be combined with any required height. With this
power of adaptation the architect was at liberty to indulge in all the
wildness of the most exuberant fancy, hardly controlled by any constructive
necessities of the work he was carrying out. Whether this was really an
advantage or not, is not quite clear. A tighter rein on the fancy of the
designer would certainly have produced a purer and severer style, though
we might have been deprived of some of those picturesque effects which
charm so much in Gothic cathedrals, especially when their abruptness is
softened by time and hallowed by associations. We must, however, in
judging of the style, be careful to guard ourselves against fettering our
judgment by such associations. There is nothing in all this that might not
have been as easily applied to round as to pointed arches, and indeed it
would certainly have been so applied, had any of the round-arched styles
arrived at maturity.
Far more important than the introduction of the pointed arch was the
invention of painted glass, which is really the important formative principle
of Gothic architecture; so much so, that there would be more meaning in the
name, if it were called the “painted-glass style,” instead of the pointed-arch
style.

In all the earlier attempts at a pointed style, which have been alluded to in
the preceding pages, the pointed arch was confined to the vaults, pier
arches, and merely constructive parts, while the decorative parts, especially
the windows and doorways, were still round-headed. The windows were
small, and at considerable distances, a very small surface of openings filled
with plain white glass being sufficient to admit all the light that was
required for the purposes of the building, while more would have destroyed
the effect by that garish white light that is now so offensive in most of our
great cathedrals. As soon, however, as painted glass was introduced, the
state of affairs was altered: the windows were first enlarged to such an
extent as was thought possible without endangering the safety of the painted
glass, with the imperfect means of supporting it then known.[35] All circular
plans were abandoned, and polygonal apses and chapels of the chevet
introduced; and lastly, the windows being made to occupy as nearly as was
possible the whole of each face of these polygonal apses, the lines of the
upper part of the window came internally into such close contact with the
lines of the vault, that it was almost impossible to avoid making them
correspond the one with the other. Thus the windows took the pointed form
already adopted for constructive reasons in the vaults. This became even
more necessary when the fashion was introduced of grouping two or three
simple windows together so as to form one; and when those portions of wall
which separated these windows one from the other had become attenuated
into mullions, and the upper part into tracery, until in fact the entire wall
was taken up by this new species of decoration.
So far as internal architecture is concerned, the invention of painted glass
was perhaps the most beautiful ever made. The painted slabs of the
Assyrian palaces are comparatively poor attempts at the same effect. The
hieroglyphics of the Egyptians were far less splendid and complete; nor can
the painted temples of the Greeks, nor the mosaics and frescoes of the
Italian churches, be compared with the brilliant effect and party-coloured
glories of the windows of a perfect Gothic cathedral, where the whole
history of the Bible was written in the hues of the rainbow by the earnest
hand of faith.
Unfortunately no cathedral retains its painted glass in anything like such
completeness; and so little is the original intention of the architects
understood, that we are content to admire the plain surface of white glass,
and to consider this as the appropriate filling of traceried windows, just as

our fathers thought that whitewash was not only the purest, but the best
mode of decorating a Gothic interior. What is worse, modern architects,
when building Gothic churches, fill their sides with large openings of this
glass, not reflecting that a gallery of picture-frames without the pictures is
after all a sorry exhibition; but so completely have we lost all real feeling
for the art, that its absurdity does not strike us now.
It will, however, be impossible to understand what follows, unless we
bear in mind that all windows in all churches erected after the middle of the
12th century were at least intended to be filled with painted glass, and that
the principal and guiding motive in all the changes subsequently introduced
into the architecture of the age was to obtain the greatest possible space and
the best-arranged localities for its display.

Freemasonry.

The institution of freemasonry is another matter on which, like the
invention of the pointed arch, a great deal more has been said than the real
importance of the subject at all deserves. Still this subject has been
considered so all-important, that it is impossible to pass it over here without
some reference, if only to explain why so little notice will be taken of its
influence, or of the important names which are connected with it.
Before the middle of the 12th and beginning of the 13th century, it is
generally admitted that the corporation of freemasons was not sufficiently
organised to have had much influence on art. At that time it is supposed to
have assumed more importance, and to have been the principal guiding
cause in the great change that then took place in architecture. Those who
adopt this view, forget that at that time all trades and professions were
organised in the same manner, and that the guild of masons differed in no
essential particulars from those of the shoemakers or hatters, the tailors or
vintners—all had their masters and past-masters, their wardens, and other
officers, and were recruited from a body of apprentices, who were forced to
undergo years of probationary servitude before they were admitted to
practise their arts.
But though their organisation was the same, the nature of their pursuits
forced one very essential distinction upon the masons, for inasmuch as all

the usual trades were local, and the exercise of them confined to the locality
where the tradesmen resided, the builders were, on the contrary, forced to
go wherever any great work was to be executed.
Thus the shoemakers, tailors, bakers, and others, lived among their
customers, and just in such numbers as were required to supply their usual
recurring wants. It is true the apprentices travelled to learn their profession
and see the world before settling down, but after that each returned to his
native town or village, and then established himself among his friends or
relatives, where he was known by all, and where he at once took his station
without further trouble.
With the mason it was different: his work never came to him, nor could it
be carried on in his own house; he was always forced to go to his work; and
when any great church or building was to be erected in any town, which
was beyond the strength of the ordinary tradesmen of the place to
undertake, masons were sent for, and flocked from all the neighbouring
towns and districts to obtain employment.
At a time when writing was almost unknown among the laity, and not
one mason in a thousand could either read or write, it is evidently essential
that some expedient should be hit upon by which a mason travelling to his
work might claim the assistance and hospitality of his brother masons on
the road, and by means of which he might take his rank at once, on reaching
the lodge, without going through tedious examinations or giving practical
proof of his skill. For this purpose a set of secret signs was invented, which
enabled all masons to recognise one another as such, and by which also
each man could make known his grade to those of similar rank, without
further trouble than a manual sign, or the utterance of some recognised
pass-word. Other trades had something of the same sort, but it never was
necessary for them to carry it either to the same extent nor to practise it so
often as the masons, they being for the most part resident in the same place
and knowing each other personally. The masons, who thus from
circumstances became more completely organised than other trades, were
men skilled in the arts of hewing and setting stones, acquainted with all
recent inventions and improvements connected with their profession, and
capable of carrying out any work that might be entrusted to them, though
they never seem to have attempted to exercise their calling except under the
guidance of some superior personage, either a bishop or abbot, or an

accomplished layman. In the time of which we are speaking, which was the
great age of Gothic art, there is no instance of a mason of any grade being
called upon to furnish the designs as well as to execute the work.
It may appear strange to us in the 19th century, among whom the great
majority really do not know what true art means, that six centuries ago
eminent men, not specially educated to the profession of architecture, and
qualified only by talent and good taste, should have been capable of such
vast and excellent designs; but a little reflection will show how easy it is to
design when art is in the right path.
If for instance we take a cathedral, any one of a series—let us say of
Paris; when completed, or nearly so, it was easy to see that though an
improvement on those which preceded it, there were many things in its
construction or design which might have been better. The side-aisles were
too low, the gallery too large, the clerestory not sufficiently spacious for the
display of the painted glass, and so on. Let us next suppose the Bishop of
Amiens at that period determined on the erection of his cathedral. It was
easy for him or his master-mason to make these criticisms, and also to
perceive how these mistakes might be avoided; they could easily see where
width might be spared, especially in the nave, and where a little additional
height and a little additional length would improve the effect of the whole.
During the progress of the Parisian works also some capitals had been
designed, or some new form of piers adopted, which were improvements on
preceding examples, and more confidence and skill would also have been
derived from the experience gained in the construction of arches and vaults.
All these of course would be adopted in the new cathedral; and without
making drawings, guided only by general directions as to the plan and
dimensions, the masons might proceed with the work, and, introducing all
the new improvements as it progressed, they would inevitably produce a
better result than any that preceded it, without any especial skill on the part
either of the master-mason or his employer.
If a third cathedral were to be built after this, it would of course contain
all the improvements made during the progress of the second, and all the
corrections which its results suggested; and thus, while the art was really
progressive, it required neither great individual skill nor particular aptitude
to build such edifices as we find.

In fine arts we have no illustration of this in modern times; but all our
useful arts advance on the same principles, and lead consequently to the
same results. In ship-building, for instance, as mentioned in the Introduction
(page 45), if we take a series of ships, from those in which Edward III. and
his bold warriors crossed the channel to the great line-of-battle ships now
lying at anchor in our harbours, we find a course of steady and
uninterrupted improvement from first to last. Some new method is tried; if
it is found to succeed, it is retained; if it fails, it is dropped. Thus the general
tendency constantly leads to progress and improvement. And, to continue
the comparison a little further, this progress in the art is not attributable to
one or more eminent naval architects. Great and important discoveries have
no doubt been made by individuals, but in these cases we may generally
assume that, the state of science being ripe for such advances, had the
discovery in question not been made by one man, it soon would have
occurred to some other.
The fact is, that in a useful art like that of ship-building, or in an art
combining use and beauty like that of architecture—that is, when the latter
is a real, living, national art—the progress made is owing, not to the
commanding abilities of particular men, but to the united influence of the
whole public. An intelligent sailor who discusses the good and bad qualities
of a ship, does his part towards the advancement of the art of ship-building.
So in architecture, the merit of any one admirable building, or of a high
state of national art, is not due to one or to a few master minds, but to the
aggregation of experience, the mass of intellectual exertion, which alone
can achieve any practically great result. Whenever we see any work of man
truly worthy of admiration, we may be quite sure that the credit of it is not
due to an individual, but to thousands working together through a long
series of years.
The pointed Gothic architecture of Germany furnishes a negative
illustration of the view which we have taken of the conditions necessary for
great architectural excellence. There the style was not native, but introduced
from France. French masons were employed, who executed their work with
the utmost precision, and with a perfection of masonic skill scarcely to be
found in France itself. But in all the higher elements of beauty, the German
pointed Gothic cathedrals are immeasurably inferior to the French. They are
no longer the expression of the devotional feelings of the clergy and people,
and are totally devoid of the highest order of architectural beauty.

The truth of the matter is, that the very pre-eminence of the great
masonic lodges of Germany in the 14th century destroyed the art. When
freemasonry became so powerful as to usurp to itself the designing as well
as the execution of churches and other buildings, there was an end of true
art, though accompanied by the production of some of the most wonderful
specimens of stone-cutting and of constructive skill that were ever
produced. This, however, is “building,” not architecture; and though it may
excite the admiration of the vulgar, it never will touch the feelings of the
true artist or the man of taste.
This decline of true art had nowhere shown itself during the 13th century,
with which we are concerned at present. Then architecture was truly
progressive: every man and every class in the country lent their aid, each in
his own department, and all worked together to produce those wonderful
buildings which still excite our admiration. The masons performed their
part, and it was an important one: but neither to them nor to their
employers, such as the Abbé Suger, Maurice de Sully, Robert de Lusarches,
or Fulbert of Chartres, is the whole merit to be ascribed, but to all classes of
the French nation, carrying on steadily a combined movement towards a
well-defined end.
In the following pages, therefore, it will not be necessary to recur to the
freemasons nor their masters—at least not more than incidentally—till we
come to Germany. Nor will it be necessary to attempt to define who was the
architect of any particular building. The names usually fixed upon by
antiquaries after so much search are merely those of the master-masons or
foremen of the works, who had nothing whatever to do with the main
designs of the buildings. The simple fact that all the churches of any
particular age are so like to one another, both in plan and detail, and so
nearly equal in merit, is alone sufficient to prove how little the individual
had to do with their design, and how much was due to the age and the
progress the style had achieved at that time. This, too, has always proved to
be the case, not only in Europe, but in every corner of the world, and in
every age when architecture has been a true and living art.

CHAPTER IX.

FRENCH GOTHIC CATHEDRALS.

CONTENTS.
Paris—Chartres—Rheims—Amiens—Other Cathedrals—Later Style—St.
Ouen’s, Rouen.

The great difficulty in attempting to describe the architecture of France
during the glorious period of the 13th century is really the embarras de
richesse. There are even now some thirty or forty cathedrals of the first
class in France, all owing their magnificence to this great age. Some of
these, it is true, were commenced even early in the 12th, and many were not
completed till after the 14th century; but all their principal features, as well
as all their more important beauties, belong to the 13th century, which, as a
building epoch, is perhaps the most brilliant in the whole history of
architecture. Not even the great Pharaonic era in Egypt, the age of Pericles
in Greece, nor the great period of the Roman Empire, will bear comparison
with the 13th century in Europe, whether we look to the extent of the
buildings executed, their wonderful variety and constructive elegance, the
daring imagination that conceived them, or the power of poetry and of lofty
religious feelings that is expressed in every feature and in every part of
them.
During the previous age almost all the greater ecclesiastical buildings
were abbeys, or belonged exclusively to monastic establishments—were in
fact the sole property, and built only for the use, of the clergy, though the
laity, it is true, were admitted to them, but only on sufferance. They had no
right to be there, and took no part in the ceremonies performed. In the 13th
century, however, almost all the great buildings were cathedrals, in the
erection of which the laity bore the greater part of the expense, and shared,

in at least an equal degree, in their property and purposes. In a subsequent
age the parochial system went far to supersede even the cathedral, the
people’s church taking almost entirely the place of the priest’s church, a
step which was subsequently carried to its utmost length by the
Reformation. Our present subject requires us to fix our attention on that
stage of this great movement which gave rise to the building of the principal
cathedrals throughout Europe from the 12th to the 15th century.
The transition from the Romanesque to the true pointed Gothic style in
the centre of France took place with the revival of the national power under
the guidance of the great Abbé Suger, about the year 1144. In England it
hardly appeared till the rebuilding of Canterbury Cathedral, under the
guidance of a French architect, A.D. 1175; and in Germany it is not found
till, at all events, the beginning of the 13th century, and can hardly be said
to have taken firm root in that country till a century at least after it had been
fairly established in France.
The development of particular features will be pointed out as we proceed;
but no attempt will be made to arrange the cathedrals and great buildings in
chronological order. Such an attempt would merely lead to confusion, as
most of them took a century at least to erect—many of them two.
In France, as in England, there is no one great typical building to which
we can refer as a standard of perfection—no Hypostyle Hall or Parthenon
which combines in itself all the excellences of the style adopted; and we are
forced therefore to cull from a number of examples materials for the
composition, even in imagination, of a perfect whole. Germany has in this
respect been more fortunate, possessing in Cologne Cathedral an edifice
combining all the beauties ever attempted to be produced in pointed Gothic
in that country. But even this is only an imitation of French cathedrals,
erected by persons who admired and understood the details of the style, but
were incapable of appreciating its higher principles. The great cathedrals of
Rheims, Chartres, and Amiens, are all early examples of the style, and as
they were erected nearly simultaneously, none of their architects were able
to profit by the experience obtained in the others; they are consequently all
more or less experiments in a new and untried style. The principal parts of
the church of St. Ouen at Rouen, on the contrary, are of somewhat too late a
date; and beautiful though it is, masonic perfection was then coming to be
more considered than the expression either of poetry or of power.

Still in Rheims Cathedral we have a building possessing so many of the
perfections and characteristic beauties of the art, that it may almost serve as
a type of the earlier style, as St. Ouen may of the later; and though we may
regret the absence of the intermediate steps, except in such fragments as the
Sainte Chapelle at Paris, still between them we may obtain a tolerably clear
idea of the form to which French art aspired during its most flourishing age.
To avoid as far as may be possible the tediousness of repetition necessary
if the attempt were made to describe each building separately, and at the
same time not to fall into the confusion that must result from grouping the
whole together, the most expedient mode will perhaps be, to describe first
the four great typical cathedrals of Paris, Chartres, Rheims, and Amiens,
and then to point out briefly the principal resemblances and differences
between these and the other cathedrals of France.
Of these four, that of Paris is the oldest; the
foundation-stone having been laid 1163, and the
work carried on with such activity by the
bishop, Maurice de Sully, that the high altar was
dedicated 1182, the interior completed 1208,
and the west front finished about the year 1214.
The history of the cathedral of Chartres
(Woodcut No. 623) is not so easily traced. An
important church was erected there by Bishop
Fulbert in the beginning of the 11th century, of
which building scarcely anything now remains
but the piers of the western doors and the vast
crypt. In 1115, according to Mr. Street,[36] a west
front was commenced and in 1194 the whole
church was destroyed by fire. The new cathedral
was at once commenced, but upon the old
foundations. As the old crypt sustained no
damage and it extended the whole length of the
church, the architect was obliged to build on the
old lines, and thus we have, as Mr. Street points
out, a variation in the chapels of the chevet
which is extremely original and unlike any other

620. Plan of Cathedral example. The rebuilding was not completed till
of Notre Dame, Paris. the year 1260.
(From Chapuy, ‘Moyen- The cathedral of Rheims (Woodcut No. 624)
Âge Monumental.’) was commenced in the year 1211, immediately
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. after a fire which consumed the preceding
building, and under the auspices of Archbishop
Alberic de Humbert,—Robert de Coucy acting
as trustee on the part of the laity. It was so far completed in all essential
parts as to be dedicated in 1241.
Amiens Cathedral (Woodcut No. 625) was commenced in 1220, and
completed in 1257; but being partially destroyed by fire the year afterwards,
the clerestory and all the upper parts of the church were rebuilt. The whole
appears to have been completed, nearly as we now find it, about the year
1272. From this period to the building of the choir of St. Ouen, at Rouen,
1318-1339, there is a remarkable deficiency of great examples in France.
The intermediate space is very imperfectly filled by the examples of St.
Urbain at Troyes, St. Benigne at Dijon, and a few others. These are just
sufficient to show how exquisite the style then was, and what we have lost
by almost all the cathedrals of France having been commenced
simultaneously, and none being left in which the experience of their
predecessors could be made available.
Though the plans of these cathedrals differ to some extent, their
dimensions are very nearly the same; that at—

Paris, covering about 64,108 feet.

Chartres 68,260 feet.

Rheims 67,475 feet.

Amiens 71,208 feet.

These dimensions, though inferior to those of Cologne, Milan, Seville,
and some other exceptional buildings, are still as large as those of any
erected in the Middle Ages.

621. Section of Side
Aisles, Cathedral of
Paris. (From
Gailhabaud,
‘Architecture.’) Scale 50
ft. to 1 in.

Original Design |
Improved Design
622. External Elevation,
Cathedral of Paris.
(From Gailhabaud.)

The cathedral of Paris was designed at a time when the architects had not
obtained that confidence in their own skill which made them afterwards
complete masters of the constructive difficulties of the design. As shown in
the plan (Woodcut No. 620), the points of support are far more numerous
and are placed nearer to one another than is usually the case; and as may be
seen from the section, instead of two tall storeys, the height is divided into
three, and made up, if I may so express it, of a series of cells built over and
beside each, so as to obtain immense strength with a slight expenditure of
materials.
It must at the same time be confessed that this result was obtained with a
considerable sacrifice of grandeur and simplicity of effect. Even before the
building was completed, the architects seem to have become aware of these
defects; and as is shown in the woodcut (No. 622), the simple undivided

windows of the clerestory were
cut down so as to give them the
greatest possible height, and the
roof of the upper gallery made
flat to admit of this.
Subsequently larger windows
were introduced between the
buttresses, with a view to
obtaining fewer and larger parts,
and also of course to admit of
larger surfaces for painted glass.
With all these improvements the
cathedral has not internally the
same grandeur as the other
three, though externally there is
a very noble simplicity of
outline and appearance of
solidity in the whole design.
Internally it still retains, as may
be seen from the plan, the
hexapartite arrangement in its
vaults over the central aisle, and
the quadripartite in the side-
aisles only. This causes the
central vault to overpower those
on each side, and makes not
623. Plan of Chartres Cathedral. (From only the whole church, but all
Chapuy.) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. parts, look much smaller than
would have been the case had
the roof been cut into smaller divisions, as was always subsequently the
case.

624. Plan of Rheims Cathedral.
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. (From
Chapuy.)

625. Plan of Amiens Cathedral.
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

At Chartres most of these defects were avoided; there is there a
simplicity of design and a grandeur of conception seldom surpassed. The
great defect of proportion in that building arises from the circumstance that
the architect included the three aisles of the old church in the central aisle of
the present one. At that time the architects had not attained that daring
perfection of execution which afterwards enabled them to carry the vaults to
so astonishing a height. At Chartres the proportion of width to height is

nearly as 1 to 2, the breadth of the central nave being nearly 50 ft., and the
height only 106. With the great length of such buildings found in England
such proportions were tolerable, but in the shorter French cathedrals it gives
an appearance of depression which is far from being pleasing; and as the
painted glass has been almost entirely removed from the nave, a cold glare
now pervades the whole, which renders it extremely difficult to form an
opinion of the original effect.

626. View of the Façade of the Cathedral at Paris.
(From Chapuy.)

Most of those defects were avoided by the builders of the cathedral at
Rheims, and nothing can exceed the simple beauty and perfection of the
arrangement of the plan, as well as of the general harmony of all the parts.
The proportion, both in width and height, of the side-aisles to the central
nave, and the absence of side chapels and of any subsequent additions,
render the nave one of the most perfect in France. The mode in which the
church expands as you approach the choir, and the general arrangement of
the eastern part,[37] as shown in the plan (Woodcut No. 624), are equally
excellent, and are surpassed by no building of the Middle Ages. The piers
are perhaps a little heavy, and their capitals want simplicity; the triforium is
if anything too plain; and at the present day the effect of light in the church
is in one respect reversed, inasmuch as the clerestory retains its painted
glass, which in the side-aisles has been almost totally destroyed, making the
building appear as though lighted from below—an arrangement highly
destructive of architectural beauty. Notwithstanding all this, it far surpasses
those buildings which preceded it, and is only equalled by Amiens and
those completed afterwards. Their superiority however arose from the
introduction just at the time of their erection of complicated window-
tracery, enabling the builders to dispense almost wholly with solid walls,
and to make their clerestories at least one blaze of gorgeous colouring. By
the improvement in tracery then introduced, they were able to dispose the
glass in the most beautiful forms, and framed in stone, so as to render it,
notwithstanding its extent, still an integral part of the whole building. In this
respect the great height of the clerestory at Amiens, and its exceeding
lightness, give it an immense advantage over the preceding churches,
although this is gained at the sacrifice, to a certain extent, of the sober and
simple majesty of the earlier examples. There is, nevertheless, so much
beauty and so much poetry in the whole effect that it is scarcely fair to
apply the cold rules of criticism to so fanciful and fascinating a creation.
Externally the same progress is observable in these four cathedrals as in
their interior arrangements. The façade of the cathedral at Paris (Woodcut
No. 626) is simple in its outline, and bold and majestic in all its parts, and
though perhaps a little open to the charge of heaviness, it is admirably
adapted to its situation, and both in design and proportion fits admirably to
the church to which it is attached. The flanks, too, of the building, as
originally designed, must have been singularly beautiful; for, though sadly
disfigured by the insertion of chapels, which obliterate the buttresses and

deprive it of that light and shade so indispensable to architectural effect,
there yet remain a simplicity of outline, and an elegance in the whole form
of the building, which have not often been excelled in Gothic structures.
The lower part of the façade at Chartres (Woodcut No. 627) is older than
that of Paris, and so plain (it might almost be called rude) as hardly to admit
of comparison with it; but its two spires, of different ages, are unsurpassed
in France. Even in the southern or older of the two, which was probably
finished in the 12th century, we find all the elements which were so fully
developed in Germany and elsewhere in the following centuries. The
change from the square to the octagon, and from the perpendicular part to
the sloping sides of the spire, are managed with the most perfect art; and
were not the effect it produces destroyed by the elaborate richness of the
other spire, it would be considered one of the most beautiful of its class.
The new or northern spire was erected by Jean Texier between the years
1507 and 1514, and, notwithstanding the lateness of its date, it must be
considered as on the whole the most beautifully designed spire on the
continent of Europe; and, though not equal in height,[38] certainly far
surpassing in elegance of outline and appropriateness of design those at
Strasburg, Vienna, or even Antwerp. If it has rivals it is that at Friburg, or
those designed for the cathedral at Cologne; but were its details of the same
date, it can hardly be doubted that it would be considered the finest spire of
the three.

627. North-west View of the Cathedral at Chartres. (From
Chapuy.)

The transepts at Chartres have more projection than those of Paris, and
were originally designed with two towers to each, and two others were
placed one on each side of the choir; so that the cathedral would have had
eight towers altogether if completed; but none except the western two have
been carried higher than the springing of the roof; and though they serve to
vary the outline, they do not relieve, to the extent they might have done, the
heavy massiveness of the roof. In other respects the external beauty of the

cathedral is somewhat injured by the extreme heaviness of the flying
buttresses, which were deemed necessary to resist the thrust of the
enormous vault of the central nave; and, though each is in itself a massive
and beautiful object, they crowd the clerestory to an inconvenient extent;
the effect of which is also somewhat injured by the imperfect tracery of the
windows, each of which more resembles separate openings grouped
together than one grand and simple window.

628. Buttress at
Chartres. (From
Batissier, ‘Histoire de
l’Art.’)

629. Buttresses
at Rheims.
(From Chapuy.)

The progress that took place between this building and that at Rheims is
more remarkable on the exterior than even in the interior. The façade of that
church, though small as compared with some others, was perhaps the most
beautiful structure produced during the Middle Ages; and, though it is
difficult to institute a rigorous comparison between things so dissimilar,
there is perhaps no façade either of ancient or of modern times, that
surpasses it in beauty of proportion and details, or in fitness for the purpose
for which it was designed. Nothing can exceed the majesty of its deeply-
recessed triple portals, the beauty of the rose-window that surmounts them,
or the elegance of the gallery that completes the façade and serves as a
basement to the light and graceful towers that crown the composition. These
were designed to carry spires, no doubt as elegant and appropriate as

themselves; but this part of the design was never completed. The beautiful
range of buttresses which adorn the flanks of the building are also perhaps
the most beautiful in France, and carry the design of the façade back to the
transepts. These are late and less ornate than the western front, but are still
singularly beautiful, though wanting the two towers designed to complete
them. On the intersection of the nave with the transepts there rose at one
time a spire of wood, probably as high as the intended spires of the western
towers, and one still crowns the ridge of the chevet, rising to half the height
above the roof that the central one was intended to attain. Were these all
complete, we should have the beau ideal externally of a French cathedral,
with one central and two western spires, and four towers at the ends of the
transepts. All these perhaps never were fully completed in any instance,
though the rudiments of the arrangement are found in almost all the
principal French cathedrals. In some, as for instance at Rouen, it was
carried out in number, though at such different periods and of such varied
design as to destroy that unity of effect essential to perfect beauty.
The external effect of Amiens may be taken rather as an example of the
defects of the general design of French cathedrals than as an illustration of
their beauties. The western façade presents the same general features as
those of Paris and Rheims, but the towers are so small in proportion to the
immense building behind as to look mean and insignificant, while all the
parts are so badly put together as to destroy in a great measure the effect
they were designed to produce. The northern tower is 223 ft. high, the
southern 205; both therefore are higher than those at York, but instead of
being appropriate and beautiful adjuncts to the building they are attached to,
they only serve in this instance to exaggerate the gigantic incubus of a roof,
208 ft. in height, which overpowers the building it is meant to adorn.
The same is the case with the central spire, which, though higher than
that at Salisbury, being 422 ft. high from the pavement, is reduced from the
same cause to comparative insignificance, and is utterly unequal to the
purpose of relieving the heaviness of outline for which this cathedral is
remarkable. The filling up of the spaces between the buttresses of the nave
with chapels prevents the transepts from having their full value, and gives
an unpleasing fulness and flatness to the entire design.
All French cathedrals are more or less open to these objections, and are
deficient in consequence of that exquisite variety of outline and play of

light and shade for which the English examples are so remarkable; but it
still remains a question how far the internal loftiness and the glory of their
painted glass compensate for these external defects. The truth perhaps
would be found in a mean between the two extremes, which has not
unfortunately been attained in any one example; and this arises mainly from
the fact that, besides the effect of mass or beauty of outline, there were
many minor considerations of use or beauty that governed the design. We
must consequently look closely at the details, and restore, in imagination at
least, the building in all its completeness, before we can discover how far
the general effect was necessarily sacrificed for particular purposes.

What painted glass was to the interior of a French cathedral sculpture
was to the exterior. Almost all the arrangements of the façade were
modified mainly to admit of its display to the greatest possible extent. The
three great cavernous porches of the lower part would be ugly and
unmeaning in the highest degree without the sculptures that adorn them.
The galleries above are mere ranges of niches, as unmeaning without their
statues as the great mullioned windows without their “storeyed panes.” In
such lateral porches too, as those for instance at Chartres, the architecture is
wholly subordinate to the sculpture; and in a perfect cathedral of the 13th
century the buttresses, pinnacles, even the gargoyles, every “coign of
vantage,” tells its tale by some image or representation of some living thing,
giving meaning and animation to the whole. The cathedral thus became an
immense collection of sculptures, containing not only the whole history of
the world as then known and understood, but also of an immense number of
objects representing the arts and sciences of the Middle Ages. Thus the
great cathedrals of Chartres and Rheims even now retain some 5000
figures, scattered about or grouped together in various parts, beginning with
the history of the creation of the world and all the wondrous incidents of the
1st chapter of Genesis, and thence continuing the history through the whole
of the Old Testament. In these sculptures the story of the redemption of
mankind is told as set forth in the New Testament, with a distinctness, and
at the same time with an earnestness, almost impossible to surpass. On the
other hand ranges of statues of kings of France and other popular potentates
carry on the thread of profane history to the period of the erection of the
cathedral itself. In addition to these we have interspersed with them, a

whole system of moral philosophy, as illustrated by the virtues and the
vices, each represented by an appropriate symbol, and the reward or
punishment its invariable accompaniment. In other parts are shown all the
arts of peace, every process of husbandry in its appropriate season, and each
manufacture or handicraft in all its principal forms. Over all these are seen
the heavenly hosts, with saints, angels, and archangels. All this is so
harmoniously contrived and so beautifully expressed, that it becomes a
question even now whether the sculpture of these cathedrals does not excel
the architecture.
In the Middle Ages, when books were rare, and those who could read
them rarer still, this sculpture was certainly most valuable as a means of
popular education; but, as Victor Hugo beautifully expresses it, “Ceci tuera
cela: le livre tuera l’Église.” The printing-press has rendered all this of little
value to the present generation, and it is only through the eyes of the artist
or the antiquary that we can even dimly appreciate what was actual
instruction to the less educated citizens of the Middle Ages, and the medium
through which they learned the history of the world, or heard the glad
tidings of salvation conveyed from God to man. All this, few, if any, can
fully enter into now; but unless it is felt to at least some extent, it is
impossible these wonderful buildings can ever be appreciated. In the
Middle Ages, the sculpture, the painting, the music of the people were all
found in the cathedrals, and there only. Add to this their ceremonies, their
sanctity, especially that conferred by the relics of saints and martyrs which
they contained—all these things made these buildings all in all to those who
erected and to those who worshipped in them.

630. Bay of Nave of
Beauvais Cathedral.
No scale.

The cathedral of Beauvais is generally mentioned in conjunction with
that of Amiens, and justly so, not only in consequence of its local proximity,
and from its being so near it in date, but also from a general similarity in
style. Beauvais is in fact an exaggeration of Amiens, and shows defects of
design more to be expected in Germany than in France. It was commenced
five years later than Amiens, or in 1225, and the works were vigorously
pursued between the years 1249 and 1267, though the dedication did not
take place till 1272. The architects, in their rivalry of their great neighbour,
seem to have attempted more than they had skill to perform, for the roof fell
in in 1284, and when rebuilt, additional strength was given by the insertion

of another pier between every two of those in the old design, which served
to exaggerate the apparent height of the pier arches. Emboldened by this,
they seem to have determined to carry the clerestory to the unprecedented
height of 150 ft., or about three times the width, measuring from the centre
of one pier to that of the next. It is difficult to say what the effect might
have been had the cathedral been completed with a long nave, an acute
vault, wide pier-spaces and bold massive supports; possibly however not so
sublime as the choir alone is at present, for, owing to its limited floor area,
the eye has only to glance aloft and the stupendous height and the
magnificent construction produce an effect of splendour and size which is
only excelled by that of the great Hall of Karnac and the interior of St.
Sophia.[39] The qualities just quoted of the choir would seem to have
inspired the builders of later generations, for although the south transept
was commenced only in 1500, and the northern one thirty years later, being
finished only in 1537, there is a simplicity and grandeur in their treatment
which places them far ahead of the contemporary façade of the cathedral of
Rouen, built (1509-30) by Cardinal d’Amboise, which is of a most florid
character, and looks like a piece of rough rockwork encrusted with images
and tabernacles, and ornamented from top to bottom. In 1555 the architects
of Beauvais being seized with the desire of rivalling the dome of St. Peter’s
at Rome, which was then the object of universal admiration, undertook the
construction of a spire on the intersection of the transepts, which they
completed in thirteen years, but which stood only five years from that time,
having fallen down on the day of the Ascension in the year 1573. This
accident so damaged the works under it as to require considerable
reconstruction, which is what we now see. This spire, of which the original
drawings still exist, was 486 ft. in height; and although, as might be
expected from the age in which it was erected, not of the purest design,
must still have been a very noble and beautiful object, hardly inferior to that
of Chartres, which was built only half a century earlier.

631. Doorway, South Transept, Beauvais.
(From Chapuy.)

632. Plan of Cathedral at Noyon.
(From Ramée’s ‘Monographie.’)
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

Taken altogether, the cathedral of Beauvais may be considered as an
example of that “vaulting ambition that o’erleaps itself.” Every principle of
Gothic art is here carried to an extreme which tends to destroy the object
with which it was designed, and not only partially has caused the ruin of the
building and practically prevented its completion, but has run the risk of
destroying its artistic effect, so as to make it an example of what should be
avoided rather than of what should be followed. It has perhaps that want of
repose and solidity which has often been made the reproach of Gothic
architecture. And were it not for the perfection of its masonry and the
majesty of its size, the additional piers which it was found necessary to

insert might be regarded as props applied to prevent its falling, instead of
suggesting, as they do, additional strength and insuring durability. There is
one example in France in which this danger of carrying the principles of
Gothic art to its extreme is painfully evident. The church of St. Urbain of
Troyes, mentioned farther on, p. 155, and the choir of which has just been
restored (1891) and filled with modern stained glass, resembles more an
ephemeral construction in iron and glass, a sort of mediæval crystal palace,
than one in which the solid construction of its masonry should give repose
and a sense of solidity and strength.

633. Spires of Laon Cathedral. (From Dusomerard.)

The cathedral of Noyon is an earlier example, and one of the best and
most elegant transition specimens in France, having been commenced about
the year 1137, and completed, as we now see it, in 1167. Here the circular

arch had not entirely disappeared, which was owing to its early date, and to
its situation near the German border, and its connection with the see of
Tournay, with which it was long united. Like the sister church of that place,
it was triapsal, which gave it great elegance of arrangement. The one defect
of this form seems to be, that it does not lend itself easily to the
combination of towers which were then so much in vogue.
In singular contrast to this is the neighbouring cathedral of Laon, one of
the very few in France which have no chevet. It terminates with a square
east end, like an English church, except that it has there a great circular
window only, instead of the immense wall of glass usually adopted in this
country. In style it more resembles the cathedral of Paris than any other,
though covering less ground and smaller in all its features. Its great glory is
its crowning group of towers. The two western (with the exception of their
spires) and the two at the end of the northern transept are complete. On the
southern side only one has been carried to its full height, and the central
lantern is now crowned by a low pyramidal roof instead of the tall spire that
must once have adorned it; but even as they now are, the six that remain,
whether seen from the immediate neighbourhood of the building or from
the plain below—for it stands most nobly on the flat top of a high isolated
hill—have a highly picturesque and pleasing effect, and notwithstanding the
rudeness of some of its details, and its deficiency in sculpture, it is in many
respects one of the most interesting of the cathedrals of France.

634. View of Cathedral at Coutances. (From
‘Transactions of Institute of British Architects.’)

One of the earliest of the complete pointed Gothic churches of France is
that of Coutances (Woodcut No. 634), the whole of which belongs to the
first half of the 13th century, and though poor in sculpture, makes up for
this to some extent by the elegance of its architectural details, which are
unrivalled or nearly so in France.
Externally it possesses two western spires, and one octagonal lantern
over the intersection of the nave and transept, which, both for beauty of
detail and appropriateness, is the best specimen of its class, and only wants
the crowning spire to make this group of towers equal to anything on this
side of the channel.

Notre Dame de Dijon is another example of the same early and elegant
age, but possessing the Burgundian peculiarity of a deeply recessed porch
or narthex, surmounted by a façade of two open galleries, one over the
other, exactly in the manner of the churches of Pisa and Lucca of the 11th
and 12th centuries, of which it may be considered an imitation. It is,
however, as unsatisfactory in pointed Gothic, even with the very best
details, as it is in the pseudo-classical style of Pisa, forming in either case a
remarkably unmeaning mode of decoration.
The cathedrals of Sens and Auxerre are
pure examples of pointed architecture.
The latter (A.D. 1213) internally rivals
perhaps even Coutances. Nothing can be
more elegant than the junction of the lady
chapel here with the chevet; for though
this is almost always pleasingly arranged,
the design has been unusually successful
in this instance. The two slender shafts,
shown in the Woodcut No. 635, just
suffice to give it pre-eminence and
dignity, without introducing any feature
so large as to disturb the harmony of the
whole.
In the great church of St. Quentin, the
five chapels of the chevet have each two 635. Lady Chapel, Auxerre.
pillars, arranged similarly to these of the (From Chapuy.)
lady chapel at Auxerre; and though the
effect is rich and varied, the result is not
quite so happy as in this instance. Taken altogether, however, few chevets in
France are more perfect and beautiful than this almost unknown example.
The cathedral of Troyes, commenced in 1206, and continued steadily for
more than three centuries, is one of the few in France, designed originally
with five aisles and a range of chapels. The effect, however, is far from
satisfactory. The great width thus given makes the whole appear low, and
the choir wants that expansion and dignity which is so pleasing at Rheims
and Chartres. Still the details and design of the earlier parts are good and
elegant; and the west front (Woodcut No. 637), though belonging wholly to

the 16th century, is one of the most pleasing specimens of flamboyant work
in France, being rich without exuberance, and devoid of the bad taste that
sometimes disfigures works of this class and age.
The cathedral at Soissons is one of the most pleasing of all these
churches. Nothing can surpass the justness of the proportions of the central
and side aisles both in themselves and to one another. Though the church is
not large, and principally of that age—the latter half of the 13th century—in
which the effect depended so much on painted glass, now destroyed or
disarranged, it still deserves a place in the first rank of French cathedrals.
The two cathedrals of Toul
and Tours present many
points of great beauty, but
their most remarkable
features are their western
façades, both of late date,
each possessing two towers
terminating in octagonal
lanterns, with details verging
on the style of the
Renaissance, and yet so
Gothic in design and so
charmingly executed as
almost to induce the belief, in
spite of the fanciful
extravagance which it
displays, that the architects
were approaching to
something new and beautiful
when the mania for classical
details overtook them.
The two cathedrals of
Limoges and Dijon belong to
the latter half of the 13th
century, and will
consequently when better
636. Plan of Cathedral at Troyes. (From
Arnaud, ‘Voyage dans le Département de

l’Aube.’) Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. known fill a gap painfully felt
in the history of the art.

637. Façade of Cathedral at Troyes. (From Arnaud.)

It would be tedious to enumerate all the great cathedrals of the country,
or to attempt to describe their peculiarities; but we must not omit all
mention of such as Lisieux, remarkable for its beautiful façade, and Evreux,
for the beauty of many of its parts, though the whole is too much a
patchwork to produce an entirely pleasing effect. Nevers, too, is remarkable
as being one of the only two double-apse cathedrals in France, Besançon
being the other. At Nevers this was owing to the high altar having been

originally at the west, a defect felt to be intolerable in France in the 16th
century, when the church was rebuilt, when it was done without destroying
the old sanctuary. Bordeaux, already mentioned for its noble nave without
aisles, possesses a chevet worthy of it, and two spires of great beauty at the
ends of the transepts, the only spires so placed, I think, in France. Autun has
a spire on the intersection of the nave with the transepts as beautiful as
anything of the same class elsewhere. The cathedral of Lyons is interesting,
as showing how hard it was for the Southern people of France to shake off
their old style and adopt that of their Northern neighbours. With much
grandeur and elegance of details, it is still so clumsy in design, that neither
the whole nor any of its parts can be considered as satisfactory. The
windows, for instance, as shown in the woodcut (No. 638), look more like
specimens of the so-called carpenter’s Gothic of modern times than
examples of the art of the Middle Ages.
There still remains to be mentioned the cathedral at Rouen. This
remarkable building possesses parts belonging to all ages, and exhibits most
of the beauties, as also, it must be confessed, most of the defects of each
style. It was erected with a total disregard to all rule, yet so splendid and so
picturesque that we are almost driven to the wild luxuriance of nature to
find anything to which we can compare it. Internally its nave, though rich,
is painfully cut up into small parts. The undivided piers of the choir, on the
contrary, are too simple for their adjuncts. Externally, the transept towers
are beautiful in themselves, but are overpowered by the richness of those of
the west front. The whole of that façade, in spite of the ruin of some of its
most important features, and the intrusion of much modern vulgarity, may
be called a romance in stone, consisting as it does of a profusion of the most
playful fancies. Like most of the cathedrals near our shores, that of Rouen
was designed to have a central spire; this, however, was not completed till
late in the cinque-cento age, and then only in vulgar woodwork, meant to
imitate stone. That being destroyed, an attempt has lately been made to
replace it by still more vulgar iron-work, leaner and poorer than almost
anything else of modern times.

638. Window of
Cathedral at
Lyons. (From
Peyrée’s ‘Manuel
de
l’Architecture.’)

639. Plan of Cathedral at
Bazas. (From Lamothe.[40])
Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.

In the preceding pages, all mention of the cathedrals of Bazas and
Bourges has been purposely omitted, because they belong to a different type
from the above. The first (Woodcut No. 639) is one of the most perfect
specimens of the pure Gothic style in the South of France. Its noble triple
portal, filled with exquisite sculpture, and its extensive chevet, make it one
of the most beautiful of its class. It shows no trace of a transept,—a
peculiarity, as before pointed out, by no means uncommon in the South.
This, though a defect in so far as external effect is concerned, gives great
value to the internal dimensions, the appearance of length being far greater
than when the view is broken by the intersection of the transept.
This is still more striking at Bourges, where the cathedral, though one of
the finest and largest in France, covering 73,170 square feet, is still one of
the shortest, being only 405 ft. in extreme length; yet, owing to the central
aisle being wholly unbroken, it appears one of the longest, as it certainly is

one of the most majestic of all.
This cathedral possesses also
another Southern peculiarity of
more questionable advantage,
in having five aisles in three
different heights. The section
(Woodcut No. 640) will explain
this. The central aisle is 117 ft.
in height, those next to it 66 ft.
high, the two outer only 28.
These last appear to destroy the
harmony of the whole, for on
an inspection of the building,
the outer aisles do not appear to
belong to the design, but look
more like afterthoughts. At
Milan, Bologna, and other
places in Italy, where this
gradation is common, this
mistake is avoided, and the
effect proportionably
increased; and except that this
arrangement does not admit of
such large window spaces, in 640. Plan of Cathedral at Bourges. (From
other respects it is not quite Girardot, ‘Description de la Cathédrale.’)
clear that, where double aisles Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.
are used, it would not always
be better that they should be of
different heights. This arrangement of the aisles was never again fairly tried
in France; but even as it is, the cathedral of Bourges must rank after the four
first mentioned as the finest and most perfect of the remaining edifices of its
class in that country. It is singularly beautiful in its details, and happy in its
main proportions; for owing to the omission of the transept, the length is
exquisitely adapted to the other dimensions. Had a transept been added, at
least 100 ft. of additional length would have been required to restore the
harmony; and though externally it would no doubt have gained by such an

adjunct, this gain would not have been adequate to the additional expense
so incurred.

641. Section of Cathedral at Bourges. (From Drawings by F.
Penrose, Esq., Architect.) Scale 50 ft. to 1 in.

The greater part of the western façade of this cathedral is of a later date
than the building itself, and is extended so much beyond the proportions
required for effect as to overpower the rest of the building, so that it is only
from the sides or the eastern end that all the beauty of this church can be
appreciated.
As far as regards size or richness of decoration, the cathedral of Orleans
deserves to rank as one of the very first in France, and is remarkable as the
only first-class Gothic cathedral erected in Europe since the Middle Ages.
The original church on this site having been destroyed by the Calvinists, the
present cathedral was commenced in the year 1601 by Henry IV. of France,
and although the rebuilding proceeded at first with great vigour, and the
work was never wholly discontinued, it is even now hardly completed.

Considering the age in which it was built, and the contemporary
specimens of so-called Gothic art erected in France and England, it is
wonderful how little of classical admixture has been allowed to creep into
the design of this building, and how closely it adhered to every essential of
the style adopted. In plan, in arrangement, and indeed in details, it is so
correct, that it requires considerable knowledge to define the difference
between this and an older building of the same class. Still there is a wide
difference, which makes itself felt though not easily described, and consists
in the fact that the old cathedrals were built by men who had a true
perception of their art; while the modern example only bears evidence of a
well-learnt lesson distinctly repeated, but without any real feeling for the
subject. This want betrays itself in an unmeaning repetition of parts, in a
deficiency of depth and richness, and in a general poverty of invention.

Collegiate Churches.

It would not be difficult to select out of the collegiate churches of France
as complete a series as of the cathedrals, though of inferior size. But having
already gone through the one class of buildings, we must confine ourselves
to a brief notice of the other. The church of Charité sur Loire was one of the
most picturesque and beautiful in France. It is now partially ruined, though
still retaining enough of its original features to illustrate clearly the style to
which it belongs. Originally the church was about 350 ft. in length by 90 in
breadth. One tower of the western front, one aisle, and the whole of the
choir still remain, and belong without doubt to the church dedicated in 1106
by Pope Pascal. The presence of the pointed form in the pier arches and
vaults has induced some to believe that this church belongs to the reign of
Philip Augustus, about a century later, and when the church was restored
after a great fire. Its southern position, however, the circumstance of its
being the earliest daughter church of the abbey of Cluny, and the whole
style of the building, are proofs of its earlier age. All the decorative parts,
and all the external openings, still retain the circular form as essentially as if
the pointed had never been introduced.
The most remarkable feature in this church is the exuberance of the
ornament with which all the parts are decorated, so very unlike the massive
rudeness of the contemporary Norman or Northern styles. The capitals of

the pillars, the arches of the triforium, the jambs of the windows and the
cornices, all show a refinement and love of ornament characteristic of a far
more advanced and civilised people than those of the Northern provinces of
France.
Among those who were present at the dedication of this church was the
Abbé Suger, then a gay young man of twenty years of age, who about thirty
years later, in the plenitude of his power, commenced the building of the
abbey of St. Denis, near Paris, the west front of which was dedicated in the
year 1140, and rest of the church built “stupendâ celeritate,” and dedicated
in 1144. Though certainly not the earliest, St. Denis may be considered as
the typical example of the earliest pointed Gothic in France. It terminated
the era of transition, and fixed the epoch when the Northern pointed style
became supreme, to the total exclusion of the round-arched style that
preceded it. The effect of Suger’s church is now destroyed by a nave of the
14th century—of great beauty it must be confessed—which is interpolated
between the western front and the choir, both which remain in all essentials
as left by him, and enable us to decide without hesitation on the state of
architectural art at the time of the dedication of the church.
A few years later was commenced the once celebrated abbey of Pontigny,
near Auxerre, probably in 1150, and completed, as we now find it, within
15 or 20 years from that date.
Externally it displays an almost barn-like simplicity, having no towers or
pinnacles—plain undivided windows, and no ornament of any sort. The
same simplicity reigns in the interior, but the varied form and play of light
and shade here relieve it to a sufficient extent, and make it altogether, if not
one of the most charming examples of its age, at least one of the most
instructive, as showing how much effect can be obtained by ornamental
arrangement with the smallest possible amount of ornament. In obedience
to the rules of the Cistercian order, it neither had towers nor painted glass,
which last circumstance perhaps adds to its beauty, as we now see it, for the
windows being small, admit just light enough for effect, without the painful
glare that now streams through the large mullioned windows of the
cathedral of Auxerre.
To the Englishman, Pontigny should be more than usually interesting, as
it was here that the three most celebrated archbishops of Canterbury—
Becket, Langton, and Edmund—found an asylum when driven by the

troubles of their native land to seek
a refuge abroad, and the bones of
the last-named sainted prelate are
said still to remain in the châsse,
represented in the woodcut, and are
now and have been for centuries the
great object of worship here.

642. View in the Church of Charité
sur Loire. (From a Sketch by the
Author.)

643. Chevet, Pontigny. (From
Chaillou des Barres.)

About a century after the erection of these two early specimens, we have
two others, the dates of which are ascertained, and which exhibit the
pointed style in its greatest degree of perfection. The first, the Sainte
Chapelle in Paris, was commenced in 1241, and dedicated in 1244;[41] the
other, the church of St. Urban at Troyes, was begun in 1262, and the choir
and transept completed in 1266. Both are only fragments—choirs to which
it was originally intended to add naves of considerable extent. The
proportions of the Sainte Chapelle are in consequence somewhat too tall
and short; but the noble simplicity of its design, the majesty of its tall
windows, and the beauty of all its details, render it one of the most perfect
examples of the style at its culminating point in the reign of St. Louis. Now

that the whole of the painted glass has been restored, and the walls
repainted according to what may be assumed to have been the original
design, we are enabled to judge of the effect of such a building in the
Middle Ages. It may be that our eyes are not educated up to the mark, or
that the restorers have not quite grasped the ancient design; but the effect as
now seen is certainly not quite satisfactory. The painted glass is glorious,
but the effect would certainly have been more pleasing if all the structural
parts of the architecture had been of one colour. There is no repose about
the interior—nothing to explain the construction. The flat parts may have
been painted as they now are; but surely the shafts and ribs could only have
been treated as stone.
The other was founded by
Pope Urban IV., a native of
Troyes, and would have been
completed as a large and
magnificent church, but for
the opposition of some
contumacious nuns, who had
sufficient power and
influence even in those days
to thwart the designs of the
Pope himself. Its great
perfection is the beauty of its
details, in which it is
unsurpassed by anything in
France or in Germany; its
worst defect is a certain
exaggerated temerity of
construction, which tends to
show how fast, even when
this church was designed,
architecture was passing from
the hands of the true artist
into those of the mason,
whose attempts to astonish by
wonders of construction then
and ever afterwards

644. West Front of Ste. Marie de l’Épine. completely marred the
(From Dusomerard.) progress of the art which was
thought to be thereby
promoted.
About seventy years after this we come to the choir of St. Ouen, and to
another beautiful little church, Ste. Marie de l’Épine (Woodcut No. 644),
near Châlons sur Marne, commenced apparently about 1329, though not
completed till long afterwards.[42] It is small—a miniature cathedral in fact
—like our St. Mary Redcliffe, which in many respects it resembles, and is a
perfect bijou of its class. One western spire remains—the other was
destroyed to make room for a telegraph—and is not only beautiful in itself,
but interesting as almost the only example of an open-work spire in France.
The church of St. Ouen, at Rouen, was beyond comparison the most
beautiful and perfect of the abbey edifices of France. This was commenced
by Marc d’Argent in the year 1318, and was carried on uninterruptedly for
twenty-one years, and at his death the choir and transept were completed, or
very nearly so. The English wars interrupted at this time the progress of
this, as of many other buildings, and the works of the nave were not
seemingly resumed till about 1490, and twenty-five years later the beautiful
western front was commenced.
Except that of Limoges, the choir is almost the only perfect building of
its age, and being nearly contemporary with the choir at Cologne (1276 to
1321), affords a means of comparison between the two styles of Germany
and France at that age, entirely to the advantage of the French example,
which, though very much smaller, avoids all the more glaring faults of the
other.

645. Plan of Church of St.
Ouen at Rouen. (From
Peyrée’s ‘Manuel.’) Scale 100
ft. to 1 in.

646. Church of St. Ouen at Rouen, from the S.E.
(From Chapuy.)

Nothing indeed can exceed the beauty of proportion of this most elegant
church; and except that it wants the depth and earnestness of the earlier
examples, it may be considered as the most beautiful thing of its kind in
Europe. The proportion too of the nave, transepts, and choir to one another
is remarkably happy, and affords a most striking contrast to the very
imperfect proportions of Cologne. Its three towers also would have formed
a perfect group as originally designed, but the central one was not

completed till so late, that its details have lost the aspiring character of the
building on which it stands, and the western spires, as rebuilt within the last
few years, are incongruous and inappropriate; whereas had the original
design been carried out according to the drawings which still exist, it would
have been one of the most beautiful façades known anywhere. The diagonal
position of the towers met most happily the difficulty of giving breadth to
the façade without placing them beyond the line of the aisles, as is done in
the cathedral of Rouen, and at the same time gave a variety to the
perspective which must have had the most pleasing effect. Had the idea
occurred earlier, few western towers would have been placed otherwise; but
the invention came too late, and within the last few years we have seen all
traces of the arrangement ruthlessly obliterated.
The style of the choir of this church may be fairly judged from the view
of the southern porch (Woodcut No. 647). This has all that perfection of
detail which we are accustomed to admire in Cologne Cathedral, and the
works of the time of our Second Edward, combined with a degree of
lightness and grace peculiar to this church. The woodcut is too small to
show the details of the sculpture in the tympanum above the doors, but that
too is of exquisite beauty, and being placed where it can be so well seen,
and at the same time so perfectly protected, it heightens the architectural
design without in any way seeming to interfere with it. This is a somewhat
rare merit in French portals. In most of them it is evident that the architect
has been controlled in his design in order to make room for the immense
quantity of sculpture which usually crowds them. On the other hand, the
position of the figures is often forced and constrained, and the bas-reliefs
nearly unintelligible, from the architects having been unable to give the
sculptor that unencumbered space which was requisite for the full
development of his ideas.

It would be easy to select numerous examples from the collegiate and
parish churches of France to extend this series. Our limits will not,
however, admit of the mention of more than one other instance. The
sepulchral church of Brou en Bresse was erected between 1511 and 1536,
by Margaret of Austria, daughter of Maximilian, and aunt of Charles V.,
Emperor of Germany. It was therefore nearly contemporary with Henry
VII.’s Chapel at Westminster, and thus affords the means of comparison

between the English and French
styles of the day, which is wholly in
favour of our own; both are the
most florid specimens of their class
in either country, but at Brou, both
externally and internally, all
majesty of form and constructive
propriety are lost sight of; and
though we wonder that stone could
be cut into such a marvellous
variety of lace-like forms, and are
dazzled by the splendour of the
whole, it is with infinite pleasure
that we turn from these elaborate
specimens of declining taste to an
earlier and purer style. Fascinating
as some of these late buildings
undoubtedly are from the richness
of decorative fancy that reigns in
647. Southern Porch of St. Ouen at
every detail, still they can only be
Rouen. (From Chapuy.)
regarded as the productions of the
stonemason and carver, and not of
the arts of the architect or sculptor so called.
In the city of Rouen we also find the beautiful church of St. Maclou
(1432-1500), a gorgeous specimen of the later French style, presenting
internally all the attenuation and defects of its age; but in the five arcades of
its beautiful western front it displays one of the richest and most elegant
specimens of flamboyant work in France. It also shows what the façade of
St. Ouen would have been if completed as designed. This church once
possessed a noble central tower and spire, destroyed in 1794. When all this
was complete, few churches of its age could have competed with it.
St. Jacques at Dieppe is another church of the same age, and possessing
the same lace-like beauty of detail and elaborate finish, which charms in
spite of soberer reason, that tells us it is not in stone that such vagaries
should be attempted. Abbeville, St. Riquier, and all the principal towns
throughout that part of France, are rich in specimens of the late Gothic, of
which we are now speaking. These specimens are in many respects

beautiful, but in all that constitutes true and good art they are inferior to
those of the glorious epoch which preceded them.

CHAPTER X.

CONTENTS.
Gothic details—Pillars—Windows—Circular windows—Bays—Vaults—
Buttresses—Pinnacles—Spires—Decoration—Construction—Furniture
of churches—Domestic architecture.

Although in the preceding pages, in describing the principal churches of
France, mention has been made of the various changes of detail which took
place from the time of the introduction of the pointed style till its
abandonment in favour of the revived classical, still it seems necessary to
recapitulate the leading changes that were introduced. This will be most
fitly done before we leave the subject of French architecture, that being on
the whole the most complete and harmonious of all the pointed styles, as
well as the earliest.

Pillars.

Of these details, the first that arrests the attention of the inquirer is the
form of the pillars or piers used in the Middle Ages, inasmuch as it is the
feature that bears the most immediate resemblance to the typical forms of
preceding styles. Indeed, the earlier pillars in the round-arched style were
virtually rude imitations of Roman originals, made so thick and heavy as to
bear without apparent stress the whole weight of the arches they supported,
and of the superincumbent wall. This increase of the weight laid upon the
pillars, and consequently in their strength and heaviness, was the great
change introduced into the art of building in the early round Gothic style.
With the same requirements the classic architects either must have
thickened their pillars immensely, or coupled them in some way. Indeed the

Romans, in such buildings as the Colosseum, placed the pillars in front and
a pier behind, which last was the virtual support of the wall. The Gothic
architects improved on this by adding a pillar, or rather a half pillar, on each
side, to receive the pier arches, and carrying up those behind and in front to
support the springing of the vault or roof, instead of the useless entablature
of the Romans.
By this means the pier became in plan what is represented in figs. 1 and 2
in the diagram (Woodcut No. 648). Sometimes it was varied, as represented
in fig. 3, where the angle-shafts were only used to lighten the apparent
heaviness of the central mass; in other examples both these modes are
combined, as in fig. 4, which not only constructively, but artistically, is one
of the most beautiful combinations which the square forms are capable of,
combining great strength with great lightness of appearance, and variety of
light and shade.
These four forms may be said to be typical in the South, where the style
was derived so directly from the Roman square pier combined with an
attached circular pillar.
In the North the Normans, and generally speaking, all the Frankish tribes,
used the circular pillar in preference to the square pier, and consequently the
variations were as shown in figs. 5, 6, 7, and 8, which, though forming
beautiful combinations, wanted the accentuation produced by the contrast
between the square and round forms.

648. Diagram of Plans of Pillars.

The architects after a time seemed to have felt this, and tried to remedy it
by introducing ogee forms and sharp edges, with deep undercut shadows,
thus applying to the pillars those forms which had been invented for the
mouldings of the ribs of the vaults, and for the tracery of the windows. The
expedient was perfectly successful at first, and, so long as it was practised
in moderation, gave rise to some of the most beautiful forms of pillars to be
found in any style. It proved, however, too tempting an opportunity for the
indulgence of every sort of quirk and quibble; and after passing through the
shapes shown in figs. 9 and 10, where the meaning of all the parts is still
sufficiently manifest, it became as complicated as fig. 11, and sometimes
even more cut up, so that all meaning and beauty was lost. It became
moreover very expensive and difficult to execute, so that in later times the
architects reverted, either to circular pillars, or to such a form as that shown
in fig. 12, which was introduced in the 16th century. The change may have
been partly introduced from motives of economy, and also to some extent
from a desire to imitate the flutings of classical pillars; but from whatever
motive it arose, it is singularly unmeaning and inartistic; and as the capital
was at the same time omitted, the whole pillar took an appearance of cold
poverty entirely at variance with the true spirit of Gothic art. This last
change showed, perhaps more clearly than those introduced into any other
feature, how entirely the art had died away before the classical styles
superseded it.

Windows.

Before painted glass came into use, very small apertures sufficed to admit
the required quantity of light into the churches. These openings retained
their circular-arched heads long after the pointed form pervaded the vaults
and pier arches, because the architects still thought them the most beautiful;
they moreover occupied so small a portion of the wall spaces that their lines
neither came in contact nor interfered with the constructive lines of the
building itself; but when it was required to enlarge them for the purpose of
receiving large pictures, the retention of the circular form was no longer
practicable.

649. Window, St.
Martin, Paris.
(From ‘Paris
Archéologique.’)

650. Window of
Nave of Cathedral
at Chartres.

651. Window in
Choir of Cathedral
at Chartres.

The Woodcut No. 622, showing the side elevation of Notre Dame at
Paris, illustrates well three stages of this process as practised in the 12th and
13th centuries. It exhibits first the large undivided window without
mullions, the glass being supported by strong iron bars; next, that with one
mullion and a circular rose in the head; and lastly, in the lower storey, a
complete traceried window. The transition from the old small window to the
first of these is easily explained, and the Woodcut No. 649, representing one
of the windows in St. Martin at Paris, will explain the transition from the
first to the second. Instead of one large undivided opening, it was often
thought more expedient to introduce two lancets side by side; but as these
never filled, nor could fill, the space of one bay so as to follow its principal
lines, it became usual to introduce a circular window of greater or less size
between their heads. This, with the rude construction of the age, presented
certain difficulties which were obviated by carrying the masonry of the
vault through the wall so as to form a discharging arch. When once this was
done it required only a glance from an experienced builder to see that if the
discharging arch were strong enough, the whole of the wall between the
buttresses might be removed without endangering the safety of the building.
This was accordingly soon done. The pier between the two lancets became
attenuated into a mullion, the circle lost its independence, and was grouped

with them under the discharging arch, which was carried down each side in
boldly splayed jambs, and the whole became in fact a traceried window.

652. Window at
Rheims.

653. Window at
St. Ouen.

In the cathedral at Chartres we have examples of the two extremes of
these transitional windows. In the windows of the aisles of the nave
(Woodcut No. 650) the circle is small and insignificant, and only serves to
join together the two lancets. In the clerestory (Woodcut No. 651), which is
somewhat later, the circle is all important and quite overpowers the lower
part. Here it is in fact a circular window, supported by a rectilinear
substructure. In both these instances the discharging arch still retains its
circular form, and the tracery is still imperfect, inasmuch as all the openings
are only holes of various forms cut into a flat surface, whereas to make it
perfect, it is necessary that the lines of two contiguous openings should
blend together, being separated by a straight or curved moulded mullion,
and not merely pierced as they are in this instance. This may perhaps be
better illustrated by one of the windows of the side-aisles at Rheims, where
the pointed Gothic window has become complete in all its essential parts.
Even here it will be observed how awkwardly the circle fits into the
spherical triangle of the upper part of the window. Indeed, there is an
insuperable awkwardness in the small triangles necessarily left in fitting
circles into the spaces above the lancets, and beneath the pointed head of
the openings. When four or five lights were used instead of two, this defect
became more apparent; and even in the example from St. Ouen (Woodcut
No. 653). one of the most beautiful in France, the architect has not been
able to obviate the discordance between the conflicting lines of the circle
and spherical triangle. At last, after two centuries of earnest trial, the
builders of those days found themselves constrained to abandon entirely
these beautiful constructive geometric forms, for tracery of a more
manageable nature, and in place of the circle they invented first a flowing
tracery, of which the window at Chartres (Woodcut No. 654) is an exquisite
example; and then having shaken off the trammels of constructive form,
launched at once into all the vagaries of the flamboyant style. In this style
stone tracery was made to look bent and twisted, as willow wands. Its
forms, it must be confessed, were always graceful, but constructively weak,
and frequently extravagant, showing a complete contrast to the
contemporary perpendicular style followed in England. That failed from the
stiffness of its forms; this from the fantastic pliancy with which so rigid a
material as stone was used. Greatness or grandeur was as impossible in
flamboyant tracery, as grace and beauty were with the perpendicular style;
still for domestic edifices, and for the smaller churches erected in the 16th

century, it must be confessed the flamboyant style has a charm it is
impossible to resist. It is so graceful and so fantastically brilliant, that it
captivates in spite of our soberer reason, lending as it does an elegance to
every edifice where it is found, and finding its parallel alone among the
graceful fancies of the Saracenic architects of the best age.

Circular Windows.

By far the most brilliant examples of this class in
France are to be found among the great circular
windows with which the west ends and transepts of the
cathedrals were adorned. There is, I believe, no
instance in France of the great straight-mullioned
windows of which our architects were so fond, and
even where the east end terminates squarely, as at
Laon, it has a great rose window. There can be little
doubt that the circle, so long as it was wholly adhered
to, was the noblest form architecturally, both
externally and internally; but when the triforium below
it was pierced, and the lower angles outside the circle 654. Window at
were filled with tracery, making it into something like Chartres.
our great windows, the result was a confusion of the
two modes, in which the advantages of neither were
preserved.
Of the earlier circular windows, one of the finest is that in the western
front at Chartres (Woodcut No. 655), of imperfect tracery, like the greater
part of that cathedral, but of great size and majesty. Its diameter is 39 ft.
across the openings, and 44 ft. 6 in. across to the outer mouldings of the
circle. Those of the transepts are smaller, being only 33 ft. across the
opening, but show a considerable advance in the art of tracery, which by the
time they were executed was becoming far better understood.

655. West Window, Chartres.

656. Transept Window,
Chartres.

657. West Window, Rheims.

658. West Window, Evreux.

If space admitted, it would be easy to select examples to trace the
progress of the invention between these early efforts and the almost perfect
window that adorns the centre of the west front at Rheims (Woodcut No.
657); and again from this to that at Evreux (Woodcut No. 658). In the latter
instance, the geometric forms have given way to the lace-work of flowing
tracery, of which this is a pleasing example. It is further remarkable in
respect that all the parts of the tracery or mullions are of the same thickness,
whereas it is usual in flowing or flamboyant tracery to introduce a
considerable degree of subordination into the parts, dividing them into

greater or smaller ribs, thus avoiding confusion and giving to the whole a
constructive appearance which it otherwise would not possess. This is very
apparent in such a window as that which adorns the west front of St. Ouen,
at Rouen, where the parts are distinctly subordinated to one another, and
have consequently that strength and character which it is so difficult to
impart. It also exemplifies what was before alluded to, viz., the mode in
which the lower external angles of the circle were filled up, and also, in a
far more pleasing manner than usual, the mode in which the pierced
triforium is made to form part of the decoration. Owing to the strong
transom bar here employed, there is strength enough to support the
superstructure; but as too often is the case, when this is subdued and kept
under, there is a confusion between the circular and upright parts, which is
not pleasing. It is then neither a circular nor an upright window, but an
indeterminate compound of two pleasing members, in which both suffer
materially by juxtaposition.
I believe it is safe to assert, that
out of at least a hundred first-class
examples of these circular
windows, which still exist in
France, no two are alike. On the
contrary, they present the most
striking dissimilarity of design.
There is no feature on which the
French architects bestowed more
pains, or in which they were more
successful. They are, indeed, the
chefs-d’œuvre of their decorative
abilities, and the most pleasing
individual features of their greater
churches. At the same time, they
completely refute the idea that the
pointed form is at all necessary for
the production of beauty in
decorative apertures. 659. West Window, St. Ouen. (From
Pugin.)

Bays.

It may be useful here to recapitulate what has been said of the
subdivision of churches into bays, or, as the French call them, travées. The
two typical arrangements of these are shown in Woodcuts Nos. 616 and
617, as existing before the introduction of the pointed forms. In the first a
great gallery runs over the whole of the side aisle, introduced partly as a
constructive expedient to serve the purpose for which flying buttresses were
afterwards employed, partly as enabling the architect to obtain the required
elevation without extraordinarily tall pillars or wide pier-spaces, both which
were beyond the constructive powers of the earlier builders. These galleries
were also useful as adding to the accommodation of the church, as people
were able thence to see the ceremonies performed below, and to hear the
mass and music as well as from the floor of the church. These advantages
were counterbalanced by the greater dignity and architectural beauty of the
second arrangement (Woodcut No. 617) where the whole height was
divided into that of the side-aisles and of a clerestory, separated from one
another by a triforium gallery, which represented in fact the depth of the
wooden roof requisite to cover the side-aisles. When once this simple and
beautiful arrangement was adopted, it continued with very little variation
throughout the Middle Ages.[43] The proportions generally used were to
make the aisles half the height of the nave. In other words, the string-course
below the triforium divided the height into two equal parts; the space above
that was divided into three, of which two were allotted to the clerestory, and
one to the triforium.[44] It is true there is perhaps no single instance in which
the proportions here given are exactly preserved, but they sufficiently
represent the general division of the parts, from which the architects only
deviated slightly, sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other, according
to their taste or caprice. The only really important change afterwards
introduced was that of glazing the triforium gallery also, by adopting a flat
roof, or one nearly so, over the side-aisles, as the nave in the church of St.
Ouen at Rouen, or by covering each bay by a pyramidal roof not seen from
the interior, as is shown in the Woodcuts Nos. 621 and 641; the whole walls
of the church, with the slight exception of the spandrils of the great pier-
arches, having thus become walls of glass, the mass of the vault being
supported only by the deep and bold constructive lines of which the
framework of the glazed surfaces consists.
In England, we have not, as far as I am aware, any instance of a glazed
triforium, but it is one of the most fascinating features in the later styles of

the French architects, and where it retains its coloured glass, which is
indispensable, produces the most fairy-like effect. It is however,
questionable whether the deep shadow and constructive propriety of the
English practice is not on the whole more satisfactory. In a structure of
glass and iron nothing could be more appropriate than the French practice;
but in a building of stone and wood more solidity is required to produce an
effect which shall be permanently pleasing.

Vaults.

It has already been explained how essential a part of a Gothic church the
vault was, and how completely it was the governing power that gave form
to the art. We have also seen the various steps by which the architects
arrived at the intersecting vault, which became the typical form in the best
age. In France especially the stone vault was retained throughout as a really
essential feature, for though the English were so successful in the art of
constructing ornamental wooden roofs, the practice never prevailed in
France.
In the best age the arrangement of the
French vaults was extremely simple. The
aisles were generally built in square
compartments, the vaults of which were
first circumscribed, each by four equal
arches (Woodcut No. 660), of which A A
were transverse ribs or arcs doubleaux as
the French called them, and were used, as
we have seen, in the old tunnel-vaults.
660. Diagram of Vaulting.
These arches, as springing from the main
points of support, were the principal
strengtheners of the vault, and served as permanent centres for the
superstructure. B was called the formeret, and was a rib built into the wall,
of the same form as the transverse ribs, and so called because, being the
first constructed, it gave the form to the vault. Lastly, there were two more
ribs springing from angle to angle, and intersecting one another at C. These
were called ogives, from the Latin word augere, to strengthen,[45] the chief
object of their employment however being to serve as centering. In Roman

vaulting similar ribs were employed, but the spaces between were
subsequently filled in flush with concrete. In Renaissance and in modern
work (such as in cellar or dock-vaults, for instance), when built in brick,
stone voussoirs are used for the groins, because the brickwork used there
would be liable to be crushed or fall out; here also the stone is flush with
the brickwork, but the Mediæval architects recognised the value of the rib,
not only as a permanent centre, but as suggesting the appearance as well as
the reality of strength.
The roof of the nave was composed of precisely the same parts, only that,
being twice as wide as each compartment was broad, the length of the
transverse ribs and of the intersecting ogives was greater in proportion to
the formerets than in the aisles. Another addition, and certainly an
improvement, was the introduction of ridge-ribs (D D), marking the point of
the vault. These could not of course be used with circular arches, where
there was no centre line for them to mark; and it probably was from this
cause that the French seldom adopted them, having been accustomed to
vaults not requiring them. Another reason was that all their earlier vaults
were more or less domical, or in other words the point C was higher than the
points A or B, though this is more apparent in hexapartite vaults, or where
one compartment of the nave-vaults takes in two of the aisles, than in
quadripartite, like those now under consideration. Still all French vaults
have this peculiarity more or less, and consequently the longitudinal ridge-
rib, where used, has an up and down broken appearance, which is extremely
disagreeable, and must in a great measure have prevented its adoption.
There is, however, at least one exception to this rule in France, in the abbey
church of Souvigny, represented in the Woodcut No. 661, where this rib is
used with so pleasing an effect that one is surprised it was not in more
general favour.
These are the only features usually employed by French architects: but
we do sometimes find tiercerons, or secondary ogives, used to strengthen as
well as to ornament the plain faces of the vaults, one or two on each face, as
at E E (in Woodcut No. 660); small ribs or liernes, F F, from lier, to bind,
were also occasionally used to connect all these at the centre, where they
formed star patterns, and other complicated but beautiful ornaments of the
vault. These last, however, are rare and exceptional in French vaulting,
though they were treated by the English architects with such success that
we wonder they were not more generally adopted in France. The most

probable explanation appears to be that
the French architects depended more on
colour than on relief for the effect of
their vaults, while in England colour
was sparingly used, its place being
supplied by constructive carving.
Whatever may have been the
comparative merits of the two methods
when first used, the English vaults have
a great advantage now, inasmuch as the
carving remains, while the paintings of
the others have perished, and we have
no means left of judging of their
original effect.
One of the most beautiful features of
French vaulting, almost entirely
unknown in this country, is the great
polygonal vault of the semi-dome of
the chevet, which as an architectural
object few will be disinclined to admit
is, with its walls of painted glass and its
light constructive roof, a far more
beautiful thing than the plain semi-
661. Abbey Church, Souvigny. dome of the basilican apse,
(From ‘L’Ancien Bourbonnais.’) notwithstanding its mosaics. Still, as
the French used it, they never quite
surmounted the difficulties of its construction; and in their excessive desire
to do away with all solid wall, and to get the greatest possible surface for
painted glass, they often distorted these vaults in a very unpleasing manner.
The chevet of Pontigny (Woodcut No. 643) presents a good example of
the early form of vault, which owing to the small size of the windows and
general sobriety of the composition, avoids the defects above alluded to. Of
the later examples there are few, except that of Souvigny, represented in
Woodcut No. 661, where the difficulty has been entirely conquered by
constructing the spandrils with pierced tracery, so that the vault virtually
springs from nearly the same height as the arch of the windows, and a very
slight improvement would have made this not only constructively, but

artistically perfect. This is a solitary specimen, and one which, though
among the most beautiful suggestions of Gothic art, has found no admirers,
or at least no imitators.
Notwithstanding this difficulty of construction, these pierced semi-domes
are not only the best specimens of French vaulting, but are among the most
beautiful inventions of the Middle Ages, and form a finer termination to the
cathedral vista than either the great windows of the English, or the
wonderful rose windows of the French cathedrals.

Buttresses.

The employment of buttresses was a constructive expedient that followed
almost indispensably on the use of vaults for the roofing of churches. It was
necessary either to employ enormously thick walls to resist the thrust, or to
support them by some more scientific arrangement of the materials. The
theory of the buttress will be easily understood from the diagram (Woodcut
No. 662), representing seven blocks or masses of masonry, disposed first so
as to form a continuous wall, but which evidently affords very little
resistance to a thrust or push tending to overturn it from within. The left-
hand arrangement is, from the additional breadth of base in the direction of
the thrust, much less liable to fall outwards, provided the distance of the
blocks from one another is not too great, and the mass of the vault does not
press heavily on the intermediate space. This last difficulty was so much
felt by the earlier French architects that, as we have seen, in the South of
France especially, they used the roof of the side-aisle as a continuous
buttress to resist the thrust of their tunnel-vaults. It was surmounted also by
the introduction of intersecting vaults, inasmuch as by this expedient all the
thrusts were collected together at a point over each pier, and a resisting
mass applied on that one point was sufficient to give all the stability
required. This, and the desire of raising the lights as high as possible into
the roof, were the principal causes that brought this form of vaulting into
general use; still it has not yet been shown that the continuous vault is not
artistically the more beautiful of the two forms, if not constructively so also.
There was yet another difficulty to be mastered, which was that the
principal vault to be abutted was that over the nave or central part of the
church, and buttresses of the requisite depth would have filled up the side-

aisles entirely. The difficulty first presented itself in
the building of the basilica of Maxentius (Woodcut
No. 203), and was there got over in something like the
manner practically adopted in the Middle Ages, except
that the arch was there carried inside, whereas the
Gothic architects threw the abutting arch across on the
outside and above the roof.

662. Diagram of
Buttresses.

663. Flying Buttress of
St. Ouen. (From
Batissier, ‘Histoire de
l’Art.’)

Several of the previous woodcuts[46] show the system of flying buttresses
in various stages of advancement. The view of one of those of the choir of
St. Ouen (No. 663) exhibits the system in its greatest degree of
development. Here there are two vertical and two flying buttresses, forming
a system of great lightness, but at the same time of immense constructive
strength, and when used sparingly and with elegance, as in this instance,
constituting an object of great beauty. The abuse of this expedient, as in the
cathedral at Cologne and elsewhere, went very far to mar the proper effect.
The cathedral at Chartres presents a singular but very beautiful instance
of an earlier form of flying buttress: there the immense span of the central
vault put the architects on their mettle to provide a sufficient abutment, and
they did it by building what was literally an open wall across the aisle (see
Woodcut No. 628), strongly arched, and the arches connected by short
strong pillars radiating with the voussoirs of the arch. Nothing could well be
stronger and more scientific than this, but the absence of perpendicularity in
the pillars was unpleasing to the eye then as now, and the contrivance was
never repeated.
A far more pleasing form was that
adopted afterwards at Amiens (Woodcut
No. 664) and elsewhere, where a series of
small traceried arches stand on the lower
flying buttress, and support the upper,
which is straight-lined. Even here,
however, the difficulty is not quite got
over; the unequal height of these
connecting arches, and the awkward angle
which the lower supports make with the
curvilinear form on which they rest,
deprive them of that constructive
propriety which alone secures a perfectly
satisfactory result in architecture. The
problem indeed is one which the French
never thoroughly solved, though they
bestowed immense pains upon it. Brilliant 664. Flying Buttress at
as the effect sometimes is of the immense Amiens. (From Chapuy.)
mass of pinnacles and flying buttresses,
they are seldom so put together as to leave an entirely satisfactory result on

the mind of the spectator. Taken all in all, perhaps the most pleasing
example is that of Rheims (Woodcut No. 629)—those on each side of the
nave especially—where two bold simple arches transmit the pressure from
a bold exquisitely pinnacled buttress to the sides of the clerestory, and in
such a manner as to leave no doubt whatever either as to their purpose or
their sufficiency to accomplish their object.
Notwithstanding the beauty which the French attained in their flying
buttresses, it is still a question whether they did not carry this feature too
far. It must be confessed that there is a tendency in the abuse of the system
to confuse the outlines and to injure the true architectural effect of the
exterior. Internally it no doubt enabled them to lighten their piers and
increase the size of their windows to an unlimited extent, and to judge fairly
we must balance between the gain to the interior, and the external
disadvantages. This we shall be better able to do when considering the next
constructive expedient, which was that of the introduction of pinnacles.

Pinnacles.

The use of pinnacles, considered independently of their ornamental
purposes, is evident enough. It is obvious that a wall or pillar which has to
resist the thrust of a vault or any other power exerted laterally, depends for
its stability on its thickness, its solidity, and generally on its lateral strength.
A material consideration, as affecting this solidity, is that of weight. The
most frequent use of pinnacles by the French was to surmount the piers
from which the flying buttresses sprang. To these piers weight and solidity
were thus imparted, rendering them a sufficiently steady abutment to the
flying arches, which in their turn abutted the central vaults.
It must be understood that these expedients of buttresses and pinnacles
were only employed to support the central roof of the nave. The vaults of
the aisles were so narrow as not to require any elaborate system of
abutments for their support—the ordinary thickness of the walls would have
sufficed for that purpose; but they also had the advantage of the use of the
supports designed for the larger vaults.
As a general rule the English architects never hesitated to weight their
walls so as to apply the resistance directly on the point required, and not

only adorned the roofs of their churches with pinnacles, but raised towers
and lanterns on the intersections on all occasions. The French, on the other
hand, always preferred placing these objects, not on their churches, but
rather grouped around them, and springing from the ground. This, it is true,
enabled them to indulge in height and lightness internally to an extent
unknown in England. This extravagance proved prejudicial to the true effect
even of the interior, while externally the system was very destructive of
grace and harmony. A French cathedral is generally solid and simple, as
high as the parapet of the side-aisles, but above this base the forest of
pinnacles and buttresses that spring from it entirely obscure the clerestory,
and confuse its lines. Above this again the great mass and simple form of
the high steep roof, unbroken by pinnacles or other ornaments, contrasts
unpleasingly with the lightness and confused lines immediately below it.
This inconsistency tends to mar the beauty of French cathedrals, and even
of their churches, though in the smaller buildings the effect is less glaring
owing to the smallness of the parts.

Spires.

An easy transition leads from pinnacles to spires, the latter being but the
perfect development of the former, and each requiring the assistance of the
other in producing a thoroughly harmonious effect. Still their uses were
widely different, for the spire never was a constructive expedient, or useful
in any way. Indeed, of all architectural features, it is the one perhaps to
which it is least easy to apply any utilitarian rule.
Towers were originally introduced in Christian edifices partly as bell-
towers, partly as symbols of power, and sometimes perhaps as
fortifications, to which may be added the general purpose of ornamenting
the edifices to which they were attached, and giving to them that dignity
which elevation always conveys.
From the tower the spire arose first as a wooden roof, and as height was
one of the great objects to be attained in building the tower, it was natural to
eke this out by giving the roof an exaggerated elevation beyond what was
actually required as a mere protection from the weather. When once the idea
was conceived of rendering it an ornamental feature, the architects were not
long in carrying it out. The first and most obvious step was that of cutting

off the angles, making it an octagon, and carrying up the angles of the tower
by pinnacles, with a view to softening the transition between the
perpendicular and sloping part, and reducing it again to harmony.
One of the earliest examples in which this transition is successfully
accomplished is in the old spire at Chartres (Woodcut No. 627); the change
from the square to the octagon, and from the tower to the pyramid, being
managed with great felicity. The western spires of St. Stephen’s abbey at
Caen (Woodcut No. 613), though added in the age of pointed Gothic to
towers of an earlier age, are also pleasing specimens. But perhaps one of the
very best in France, for its size and age, is that of St. Pierre at Caen
(Woodcut No. 665), uniting in itself all the properties of a good design
without either poverty or extravagance. The little lantern of Ste. Marie de
l’Épine (Woodcut No. 644), though small, is as graceful an object as can
well be designed; and the new spire at Chartres (Woodcut No. 627), as
before remarked, is, except as regards the defects inherent in its age, one of
the most beautiful in Europe.
This feature is nevertheless, it must be confessed, rarer in France than
might be expected. This is perhaps owing to many spires having been of
wood, to their having been allowed to decay, and to their removal; while in
other instances it is certain that the design of erecting them has been
abandoned in consequence of the tower, when finished, having been found
insufficient to bear their weight.

665. St. Pierre, Caen. (From Chapuy.)

The ruined church of St. John at Soissons has two, which are still of great
beauty. At Bayeux are two others, not very beautiful in themselves, but
which group pleasingly with a central lantern of the Renaissance age.[47]
And at Coutances there are two others of the best age (Woodcut No. 634),
which combined with a central octagonal lantern make one of the most
beautiful groups of towers in France. Here the pitch of the roof is very low,
and altogether the external design of the building is much more in

accordance with the canons of art prevalent on this side of the Channel than
with those which found favour in France.
Of the earlier French lanterns, this at Coutances is perhaps the best
specimen to be found: of the latter class there is none finer than that of St.
Ouen (Woodcut No. 666); and had the western towers been completed in
the same character, in accordance with the original design, the towers of
this church would probably be unrivalled. Even alone the lantern is a very
noble architectural feature, and appropriate to its position, though some of
the details mark the lateness of the age in which it was erected.

666. Lantern, St. Ouen, Rouen.
(From a print by Chapuy.)

Notwithstanding the beauty of these examples, it must be confessed that
the French architects were not so happy in their designs of spires and
lanterns as they were in many other features.

667. Corbel. (From
Didron, ‘Annales
Archéologiques.’)

668. Capitals from Rheims.

It would be in vain to attempt to enumerate all the smaller decorative
features that crowd every part of the Gothic churches of France, many of
which indeed belong more to the department of the sculptor than to that of
the architect, though the two are so intimately interwoven that it is
impossible to draw the line between them. It is, however, to the extreme
care bestowed on these details and their extraordinary elaboration that the
Gothic churches of the best age owe at least half their effect. There are
many churches in Italy of the Gothic and Renaissance ages, larger and
grander in their proportions than some of the best French examples, but
they fail to produce a similar effect because these details are all—if the
expression may be used—machine-made. The same forms and ornaments
are repeated throughout, and too frequently borrowed from some other
place without any evidence of thought or fitness in their application, and
consequently call up no responsive feeling in the mind of the spectator. On
this side of the Alps, in the best age, every moulding, every detail, exhibits
an amount of thought combined with novelty, and is always so appropriate
to the place or use to which it is applied, that it never fails to produce the
most pleasing effect, and to heighten to a great extent the beauty of the
building in which it is found. The corbel for instance represented in
Woodcut No. 667 is as much a niche for the statue as a bracket to support
the ends of the ribs of the vaults, and is one of the thousand instances which
are met with everywhere in Gothic art of that happy mixture of the arts of
the mason, the carver, and the sculptor, which, when successfully
combined, produce a true artistic effect. These combinations are so
numerous and so varied that it would be hopeless to attempt to classify
them, or even to attempt to illustrate the varieties found in any single
cathedral.[48]
The same may be said of the capitals of the pillars, which in all the best
buildings vary with every shaft, and appear to have been executed after the
architect had finished his labours, by artists of a very high class. In the best
age, in France at least, as in the examples from Rheims, shown in Woodcut
No. 668, they would appear to have retained a reminiscence of a Roman
Corinthian order, but to have used it with a freedom entirely their own.

Construction.

It has been shown that the exigencies of a Gothic cathedral were a stone
roof, a glass wall, and as great an amount of space on the floor, as little
encumbered with pillars and points of support, as could be obtained. The
two first of these points have been sufficiently insisted upon in the
preceding pages; the last, however, demands a few more remarks, as the
success achieved by the masons in the Middle Ages in this respect was one
of their chief merits, though it was but a mechanical merit after all, and one
in which they hardly surpassed their masters the Romans. The basilica of
Maxentius, for instance, covers a space of 68,000 sq. ft., or about the
average size of a French cathedral, and the points of support, or in other
words the piers and walls, occupy only 6900 sq. ft., or between a 9th and a
10th part of the whole area. If we turn to the great cathedral of St. Peter’s at
Rome, we find the points of support occupying more than one-fourth of the
whole area, though built on the model, and almost a copy, of the Roman
basilica. At St. Mary’s at Florence they occupy one-fifth; and in St. Paul’s,
London, and the Pantheon at Paris, the walls and pillars occupy in the first
rather more, in the other rather less, than one-sixth. If from these we turn to
some of the Mediæval examples, we find for instance at
The whole Solid. Ratio.
area.
Bourges 61,591 11,908 0·181, or between 1-5th and 1-6th.

Chartres 68,261 8,888 0·130, or 1-8th.

Paris 64,108 7,852 0·122, or between 1-8th and 1-9th.

St. 47,107 4,637 0·090, or between 1-10th and 1-
Ouen 11th.

The figures, however, at Bourges include a heavy and extended porch not
belonging to the original design, which if omitted would reduce the
fractional proportion considerably; and if the unbuilt towers of St. Ouen
were excluded, the proportion of the points of support to the area would be
less than one-twelfth.
Our best English examples show a proportion of rather less than one-
tenth, and though they have not the great height and wide-spreading vaults

of the French cathedrals, their spires and pinnacles externally perhaps more
than counterbalance this. Taken altogether it may generally be stated that
one-tenth is about the proportion in the best Gothic churches of the best
age. When we find it exceed this, it is obvious that the lightness of the walls
and pillars has been carried to excess, and even in St. Ouen, if there is an
error, it is on this side. There can be no question that to produce a
satisfactory effect a church requires solidity, and apparent as well as real
strength; for, without affecting the extreme massiveness of Egyptian art,
with its wonderful expression of power and durability, there is an opposite
extreme far more prejudicial to true architectural effect in parading, as it
were, mechanical contrivances of construction, so as to gain the utmost
utilitarian effect with the least possible expenditure of means. This the
Egyptians utterly despised and rejected, and heaped mass on mass, even at
the expense of any convenience or use for which the building might have
been designed. The French architects, on the other hand, made it their study
to dispense with every ton of stone they could possibly lay aside. This
system they undoubtedly carried too far, for without looking at such
extreme examples as the choir of Beauvais or St. Ouen, everywhere in
France we find a degree of airy lightness and tenuity of parts destructive of
many of the most important conditions of architectural excellence.

Furniture of Churches.

Little less thought and expense were probably bestowed upon what we
may call the furnishing of Gothic churches than upon the fabrics
themselves. Though the objects included in this denomination were
altogether of a lower class of art, they were still essential parts of the whole
design, and we cannot fairly judge of the buildings themselves without at
least endeavouring to supply their minor arrangements.
It is not easy to do this in France, nor indeed in any part of Europe, as no
one church or chapel displays at the present day all the wealth and ornament
which once belonged to it.
There is scarcely a single church in France with its original altar, the
most sacred and therefore generally the most richly adorned part of the
whole. These have either been plundered by the Huguenots, rebuilt in the

execrable taste of the age of Louis XIV., or destroyed during the
Revolution.
The cathedrals of Amiens and Rouen are among the few which retain
their original stalls; and the enclosure of the choir at Chartres is one of the
most elaborate pieces of ornamental sculpture to be found. That at Alby has
been before alluded to, and fragments of this feature still exist in many
cathedrals.

669. Rood-Screen from the Madeleine at Troyes. (From
Arnaud, ‘Voyage dans l’Aube.’)

The Rood-screens, or Jubés, which almost all French churches once
possessed, are rarer than even the other parts of these enclosures. A good
example of them is found in the church of the Madeleine at Troyes
(Woodcut No. 669), which gives a favourable idea of the richness of
decoration that was sometimes lavished on these parts. Though late in age,
and aiming at the false mode of construction which was prevalent at the
time of its execution, it displays so much elegance as to disarm criticism. It
makes us too regret the loss of the rood-screens of St. Ouen’s (of which we
can alone judge from drawings) and of the larger cathedrals; though of these
we are able to form some idea by following out the design of the lateral
screens, of which they formed a part.
If to these we add the altars of the minor chapels, with the screens that
divided them from the nave, the tombs of wealthy prelates and nobles, the
organ galleries, with their spiral stairs and richly-carved instrument cases,
and all the numberless treasures of art accumulated by wealth and piety, we
may form some idea of what a Mediæval cathedral really was, though
scarcely one now exists in any part of Europe in an entire state.

Domestic Architecture.

It is probable that specimens remain sufficient to elucidate in an
archæological point of view the progress of domestic architecture in France,
and thereby to illustrate the early manners and customs of the people; but
these remains are much less magnificent and are less perfectly preserved
than the churches and cathedrals, and have consequently received
comparatively little attention.
Had any of the royal palaces been preserved to our day, or even any of
the greater municipal buildings, the case might have been different. The
former have, however, perished, without an exception; and as regards the
latter, France seems always to have presented a remarkable contrast to the
neighbouring country of Flanders.
No town in France proper seems to have possessed in the Middle Ages
prior to the end of the 15th century either a municipality or a town-hall of
any note. When necessary to discuss communal business it was the custom
to meet in the open air, or occasionally in the churches or cloisters. There is

one notable exception
to this in the town-hall
of St. Antonin, in the
department of Tarn and
Garonne, which is a
remarkable edifice of
the 12th century, and
though partially
restored retains still the
principal features of its
early design (Woodcut
670). The ground
storey, used as a
market, consists of a
series of pointed
arches, the one on the
left being a passage-
way through. On the
first floor is a fine
room, lighted by three
windows, each
subdivided by three
shafts. The two piers
separating the windows
(and which on the inner
670. Hôtel de Ville de St. Antonin. wall support segmental
arches carrying the
wall above) are decorated with sculpture representing Adam and Eve and
Moses. The second storey, which rises into the roof, is lighted by three
double windows. Of later examples at the end of the 15th and
commencement of the 16th centuries there exist still the town-hall of
Compiègne, a beautiful example, with central tower; and at Saumur, St.
Quentin, Orleans, Bruges, and Beaugency a series of small but interesting
buildings, some flamboyant and others showing early Renaissance
influence.
In a work like the present, which is barely sufficient in extent to admit of
all the great typical examples of architectural art being enumerated, much

less described, it is evident that to domestic art a very subordinate position
must be assigned. Perhaps it ought to be omitted altogether. There are,
however, so many beauties in even the most insignificant productions of the
great ages, that it may be expedient at least to direct attention to the subject,
and the three examples here given may serve to illustrate the forms of the
art at the three great epochs of the French Gothic style.

671. House at Cluny. (From
Gailhabaud.)

The first (Woodcut No. 671) is from a house at Cluny, and exhibits the
round-arched arcade with its alternate single and coupled columns, which
arrangement was usual at that period, and of which examples are found all
over the South of France and as far north at least as Auxerre.
The second (Woodcut No. 672) represents a house at Yrieix, and shows
the pointed Gothic style in its period of greatest development; and although
the openings are of larger extent than would be convenient in this climate,
they are not more so than would be suitable, while they give, in the South of
France, great lightness and elegance to the façade. The third example is
from the portal of the Ducal Palace at Nancy (Woodcut No. 673), and is an
instance of the form the style took when on the verge of the Renaissance. It
is not without elegance, though somewhat strange and unmeaning, and,

except as regards the balconies, the parts generally seem designed solely for
ornament without any constructive or utilitarian motive.

672. House at Yrieix. (From Gailhabaud.)

One of the most extensive as well as one of the best specimens of French
domestic architecture is the house of Jacques Cœur, at Bourges, now used
as the town-hall. It was built by the wealthy but ill-used banker of Charles
VII., and every part of it shows evidence of careful design and elaborate
execution; it was erected too at an age before the style had become entirely
debased, and as a private residence situated in a town, and therefore without
any attempt at fortification, is the best that France now possesses.
The château of Meilhan (Cher) is nearly a repetition of the same design,
but at least a hundred years more modern.
Rouen possesses several examples of domestic architecture of a late date;
so does Paris—and among others, the celebrated Hôtel de Cluny. Few of the
great towns are however without fragments of some sort, but hardly any are
of sufficient importance to deserve separate notice or illustration.
France is not so rich as either Germany or England in specimens of
castellated architecture. This does not apparently arise from the fact of no

castles having been built during the Middle Ages, but rather from their
having been pulled down to make way for more convenient dwellings after
the accession of Francis I., and even before his time, when they had ceased
to be of any use. Still the châteaux of Pierrefonds and Coucy are in their
own class as fine as anything to be found elsewhere. The circular keep of
the latter castle is perhaps unique, both from its form and dimensions; but
being entirely gutted inside its architectural features are gone, and it is now
difficult to understand how it was originally arranged, and by what means it
was lighted and rendered habitable.[49]

673. Portal of the Ducal Palace at Nancy. (From
Dusomerard.)

Tancarville still retains some of the original features of its fortifications,
as do also the castles of Falaise and Gaillard.
The keeps of Vincennes and Loches are still remarkable for their height,
though they hardly retain any features which can be called strictly
architectural. In the South, the fortified towns of Carcassonne and Aigues
Mortes, and in the North, Fougères, retain as much of their walls and
defences as almost any place in Europe. The former in particular, both from
its situation and the extent of its remains, gives a singularly favourable and
impressive idea of the grave majesty of an ancient fortalice. But for
alterations and desecrations of all sorts, the palace of the popes at Avignon
would be one of the most remarkable castles in Europe: even now its extent
and the massiveness of its walls and towers are most imposing.
These are all either ruins or fragments; but the castle of Mont St. Michel,
in Normandy, retains nearly all the features of a Mediæval fortress in
sufficient perfection to admit of its being restored, in imagination at least.
The outer walls still remain, encircling the village, which nestles under the
protection of the castle. The church crowns the whole, and around it are
grouped the halls of the knights, the kitchens and offices, and all the
appurtenances of the establishment, intermingled with fortifications and
defensive precautions that must have made the place nearly impregnable
against such engines of war as existed when it was erected, even
irrespective of its sea-girt position.

BOOK IV.

BELGIUM AND HOLLAND.

CHAPTER I.

CONTENTS.
Historical Notice—Old Churches—Cathedral of Tournay—Antwerp—St.
Jacques at Liège.

The little kingdom of Belgium forms an architectural province as distinct
and in many respects as interesting as any in Europe. Its style does not, it is
true, possess that simplicity combined with grandeur which characterises
the one great united effort of Central France, but it is more varied and
picturesque, and as fully expressive of the affinities and aspirations of the
people.
As we may learn from their language, the dominant race during the
Middle Ages spoke a dialect very closely allied to the pure German, which
proclaimed their affinity to their neighbours on the Rhine; but what their
architecture tells us, though their language does not, is that there was a very
strong infusion of Celtic blood in their veins which expresses itself in
almost every building they erected.
Shortly after the departure of the Romans the German immigrants seem
to have completely overpowered the original Belgæ, and, like true Aryans,
to have divided themselves into a number of separate and independent
municipalities, with no established capital and acknowledging no central
authority. At times these communities did submit themselves to the rule of
Dukes and Counts, but only to a very limited extent; and for particular
purposes they occasionally even sought the protection of some powerful
monarch; but they never relinquished their right of self-government nor fell
under the power of feudal chiefs, or of a dominant hierarchy, to the same
extent as prevailed throughout nearly the whole of the rest of Europe. This
spirit of independence was sustained throughout the Middle Ages by the
immense extension of commercial industry which the fortunate position of

Belgium, combined with the energy of her inhabitants, enabled her to
develope. While the rest of Europe was engaged in feudal wars and
profitless crusades, the peaceful burghers of the Belgian cities were quietly
amassing that wealth which gave them individually such importance as free
citizens of independent communities, and raised their towns, and eventually
their country, to the state of prosperity it maintained till the destruction of
their liberties by the Spaniards in the 16th century.
These historical circumstances go far to explain the peculiar character
observable in the architectural remains of this country, in which we find no
trace of any combined national effort. Even the epoch of Charlemagne
passed over this province without leaving any impress on the face of the
country, nor are there any buildings that can be said to have been called into
existence by his influence and power. The great churches of Belgium seem,
on the contrary, to have been raised by the individual exertions of the
separate cities in which they are found, on a scale commensurate with their
several requirements. The same spontaneous impulse gave rise to the town-
halls and domestic edifices, which present so peculiar and fascinating an
aspect of picturesque irregularity.
Even the devastation by the Normans in the 9th and 10th centuries seems
to have passed more lightly over this country than any other in the North of
Europe. They burned and destroyed indeed many of the more flourishing
cities, but they did not occupy them, and when they were gone the
inhabitants returned, rebuilt their habitations, and resumed their habits of
patient self-supporting labour; and when these inroads ceased there was
nothing to stop the onward career of the most industrious and commercial
community then established in Europe.
In a historical point of view the series of buildings is in some respects
even more complete than the wonderful group we have just passed in
review in France. In size, the cathedrals of Belgium are at least equal to
those that have just been described. In general interest, no cathedral of
France exceeds that of Tournay, none in gorgeousness that of Antwerp; and
few surpass even those of Louvain, Mechlin, Mons, Bruges and Ghent.
Notwithstanding their magnificence, however, it must be confessed that the
Belgian cathedrals fail in all the higher requisites of architectural design
when compared with those on the southern border. This was owing partly to
the art never having been in the hands of a thoroughly organised and

educated body of clergy like that of France, but more to the ethnographic
difference of race, which in the first place prevented centralisation, and also
rendered them less keen in their appreciation of art, and less influenced by
its merits. From these and other causes, their ecclesiastical buildings do not
display that elegance of proportion, and that beauty of well-considered and
appropriate detail, which everywhere please and satisfy the mind in
contemplating the cathedrals of France.
These remarks apply solely to ecclesiastical art. In specimens of the civil
and domestic architecture of the Middle Ages, Belgium surpasses all the
other countries of Europe, on this side of the Alps, put together. Her town-
halls and markets, and the residences of her burghers, still display a degree
of taste and elegance unsurpassed by anything of the age, and remain to this
day the best index of the wealth and independence of the communities to
which they belonged.
All this is of course only what might be expected from what we know of
the ethnographic relations of the people. An Aryan race, loving
independence, cultivating self-government, and steadily following those
courses which lead to material well-being and wealth; and underlying these
a Celtic race, turbulent at times, loving art, appreciating its beauties, and
clothing the municipal requirements with the picturesque graces of
architectural design.
The difference between this country and Central France appears to be
that in the latter country the Celtic element was in excess of the Aryan,
while in Belgium this condition was reversed, and this at least is precisely
what we find expressed in her art.

Of the oldest churches of Belgium, a large proportion are known to us
only by tradition, they having been pulled down to make way for the larger
and more splendid buildings which were demanded by the continually
increasing wealth and population of the cities. Of those which remain, one
of the oldest and most interesting is that of St. Vincent at Soignies, built in
965 by Bruno, Archbishop of Cologne, and though probably not quite
finished within that century, it still retains the features of the 10th century
more completely than almost any church in Europe. This church, that of St.
Michele at Pavia, and the Minster at Zurich, constitute a trio very similar to
one another in design and in size, and differing principally in the degree of

finish they display, this being by far the rudest in construction of the three.
It possessed originally a western tower and a central lantern, the upper parts
of both which are modernised. The east end was square, though possessing
a shrine, the tomb of the saint whose name it bears. It may have been
altered, and is built up on the outside so as to render examination
impossible.
Another church, only slightly more modern, that of St. Gertrude at
Nivelles (Woodcut No. 674), presents the same peculiarity, of having a
square termination towards the east, though it seems originally to have had
an apse at the west end, where the façade was carried up to a considerable
height, and adorned in the centre by a square tower flanked by a circular
one on each side. The latter retain their original form, though the central
tower was rebuilt in the 15th century. This church was built in the earliest
years of the 11th century, and was dedicated in 1045, the Emperor Henry
IV. assisting at the ceremony. It is a first-class church with two transepts,
and remains externally in all essential particulars as then built. The interior
was entirely destroyed in the middle of the last century, which is a very
great loss, although the new arrangement which has replaced it is in itself
remarkably well designed.
Passing over some minor examples, we come to the cathedral of Tournay,
to the architect and artist the most interesting of the province. It is a first-
class cathedral, more than 400 ft. in length internally, and covering with its
dependencies an area of 62,525 sq. ft. It consists of a nave, dedicated in
1066; of a transept, built about the year 1146; the choir, which formed part
of this arrangement, was dedicated in 1213, but gave place about a century
afterwards to that now standing, which was dedicated in 1338, so that
within itself it contains a complete history of the style; and though there is
no doubt considerable incongruity in the three specimens here brought
together, as they are the best of their respective classes in Belgium, the
effect is not unpleasing, and their arrangement fortunate, inasmuch as,
entering by the western door, you pass first through the massive architecture
of the 11th to the bolder and more expanded features of the 12th century, a
fitting vestibule to the exaggerated forms which prevailed during the 14th.
In the woodcut (No. 676) the three styles are represented as they stand; but
it would require far more elaborate illustration to do justice to the beauty of
the deeply galleried nave, which surpasses any specimen of Norman
architecture, but which is here eclipsed by the two remaining apses of the

transept. These, notwithstanding a
certain rudeness of detail, are
certainly the finest productions of
their age, and are as magnificent
pieces of architecture as can be
conceived. The choir is the least
satisfactory part of the whole; for
though displaying a certain beauty
of proportion, and the most
undoubted daring of construction,
its effect is frail and weak in the
extreme. Still, if the tracery were
restored to the windows, and these
filled with painted glass, great part
of this defect might be removed. At
674. View of West End of Church at the best, the chief merit of this choir
Nivelles. (From a sketch by the is its clever and daring construction,
Author.) but even in this the builder
miscalculated his own strength, for
it was found necessary to double
the thickness of all the piers after they were first erected. This addition
would have been an improvement if it had been part of the original design,
but as it now is it appears only to betray the weakness which it was meant
to conceal.
It is by no means clear that originally there were any entrances at the
west front; at least there certainly was no central doorway; and probably the
principal entrances were, as in most German churches, under lateral
porches.
Externally, the west front had neither the flanking towers of the Norman
church, nor the frontispiece usual in Germany, but terminated in a gable the
height of the wooden roof of the nave. The original church was triapsal, and
a large square tower adorned the intersection of the nave and transept,
which was originally surrounded by six tall square towers, two belonging to
each of the apses. Four of these still exist, and with the remaining part of
the central tower form as noble a group as is to be found in any church of
this province. In its triapsal state, its superior dimensions and the greater

height of its towers must have rendered
it a more striking building than even
the Apostles’ Church at Cologne, or
indeed any other church of its age.
Besides the churches already
described, there are a considerable
number in Belgium belonging to the
11th century, such as St. Bartholomew
at Liège; St. Servin’s, Maestricht; the
church at Ruremonde (almost an exact
counterpart of the Apostles’ Church at
Cologne), and others of more or less
importance scattered over the country.
They almost all possess the peculiarity
of having no entrance in their west
fronts, but have instead a massive
screen or frontispiece surmounted by
two or three towers. This was the
arrangement of the old church of St.
Jacques at Liège. The church of Notre
Dame de Maestricht presents a
somewhat exaggerated example of this
description of front (Woodcut No.
677). It is difficult to explain the origin 675. Plan of Cathedral at
of this feature, nor have we any reason Tournay. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in.
to regret its abandonment. There can be
no doubt that the proper place for the principal entrance to a church is the
end opposite the altar, where this screen prevented its being placed.