A short history of architecture

Briefly recapitulating the preceding chapters: We have seen that the Greek temple, composed of a cella, or oblong room, surrounded by a colonnade, was copied by the Romans with but few alterations, the only one of importance being the addition of a semicircular recess to the rear wall. The columns of the colonnade having been transposed from the outside to the interior, dividing the room in three parts, longitudinally; a cross wall having been introduced dividing it transversely, and the apse retained, the building became a basilica. By extending the transept and nave the plan became cruciform and symbolically the most suitable for that of a Christian church.

The Western architects, desiring to replace the wooden roofs by stone vaults, found it convenient to substitute for columns carrying arches, piers with engaged shafts connecting directly with the superstructure.

After various attempts to obtain direct light for the central division or nave, rendered difficult by the necessity of counteracting the continuous thrust of the barrel vault thrown across it, this vault was finally abandoned and replaced by intersecting vaults, which conveyed the thrust diagonally upon equidistant piers. To avoid increasing the size of the latter to an inconvenient extent, an expedient was resorted to which consisted in propping them from the exterior by flying buttresses thrown from them to outside piers across the roof of the aisles. The result of the width of the nave being usually greater than the distance between piers was that, while the diagonal ribs of the vault remained semicircular, their lateral intersection produced pointed arches.

This form of construction was developed during the middle and latter half of the twelfth century. The pointed arch had been used occasionally before by the Romanesque architects; it had been used frequently by the Arabs, as far back as the eighth century, and had been known and employed long before the Christian era in the sewers of Babylon. It was, therefore, not a new invention, but a known method adopted in a fresh departure in constructive architecture; for the circular arches being abandoned and definitely replaced by the pointed arch the succeeding architecture became pointed or Gothic.

This is the condensed history of the derivation of the style as generally accepted at the present day, though the subject has given rise to much controversy.

The concentration of the weight of the vault upon the piers, instead of upon a continuous wall, was more or less the key to the whole scheme of Gothic construction; for the main principle remained the same throughout its many and varied examples. The idea was improved upon gradually and finally pushed to exaggeration; the decoration of the component parts of a building increased as the style advanced and they were reduced to just the sizes needed for stability, but their construction remained almost unaltered throughout.

We have followed the steps by which the form given to Christian churches emanated from the early basilicas; this form of building, that is, its plan and divisions into nave, aisles, transept, choir, apse, etc., had become traditional and was generally accepted in all the best examples.

The problem of accommodating large assemblies in the manner best suited to enable them to concentrate their sight and hearing upon a given point has been solved in various ways, perhaps most successfully in our modern opera-houses, but this problem was not one with which the Gothic architects endeavoured to grapple; their attention was devoted to the improvement and embellishment of the typical plan of structure, which custom and dogma had prescribed as the most suitable and in accordance with the needs of the liturgy. The plan was more or less elastic, and differed without material distinction in the different countries of Western Europe. These differences are easily noted by comparing the appended plans; the one, that of Rheims Cathedral, showing perhaps the most perfect arrangement of any in France, and the other, that of a typical English cathedral. The latter does not represent any particular structure, but is a composition including all the usual divisions and connecting buildings, taken from an old copy of Rickman.

In the thirteenth century the style was formed in all its purity; it was characterized by great simplicity and beauty, and in these respects was never surpassed. The arch had few mouldings, and these clearly defined and graceful; the shafts of columns were of slender and charming proportions, and the foliage employed for the decoration of their capitals, while conventional, departed entirely from the acanthus leaves of Classic origin, and assumed forms suggested by Western plants.

Piers were reduced to the precise dimensions needful, and were formed of slender shafts, grouped together, which received the arch mouldings on either side, and rose in the front and rear to the height necessary to take the springing of the vault. In practice, the thrust of the vault was found not to be transmitted directly to a point to be received by an arch, but to two points above and below this theoretical one, which necessitated the employment of two flying buttresses, the one above the other. In Chartres Cathedral these are connected by radiating columns, and there are many examples where the intervening space is occupied by an open arcade. The French generally built their vertical buttresses very massively, but in England the pinnacle was more frequently used to counteract the thrust of the arch. For this purpose it was eminently appropriate, and might be considered ornamental, but the placing of pinnacles upon the corners of the towers and elsewhere where they served no end, which was often done, was always a mistake; and a defect which mars the effect of many beautiful English buildings.

In Notre Dame of Paris, we find the single round column still occupying the first story, with the more complex arrangement of pier and connected shafts starting above the abacus of its capital, but as a general thing, a distinct shaft was provided for each set of mouldings. In time this was replaced by a continuation of the vault mouldings down to the floor, interrupted only by an occasional string-course, or a band of foliage replacing the capital.

Once the weight of the vault had been transferred to piers, the wall connecting them ceased to support anything but the extremity of the cross-vault comprised between the piers, and otherwise served only as a screen. The Gothic architects soon took advantage of this to widen the windows, which had been narrow in the early stages, for by throwing a discharging arch just under the upper vault across the piers the whole space underneath could be occupied by windows, which, with the improvement in the making of painted glass, became extremely desirable. This was accordingly done, the only stonework left being the network of mullions and tracery necessary to receive the panes. This tracery, probably suggested by the rich Arabic window fillings, made a great advance during the latter part of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the combinations of geometrical figures, chiefly the circle, being often wonderfully beautiful. The rose window was much favoured by the French in their West fronts and transepts, but in England the large pointed window was generally preferred, and admirably suited the square termination of the apse, which was the most frequently used in that country.

The space enclosed by the pointed window had an outline to which it was always difficult to adjust geometric traceries so as to avoid clumsy joints, or oddly shaped patterns, and these were, therefore, subsequently replaced by flowing lines, which could be used with much greater freedom.

As these grew bolder they assumed a flame-like appearance, and the later period of the style to which they belong was, in consequence, called “Flamboyant.” This development occurred chiefly in France, some of the best examples being in the church of St. Ouen, at Rouen.

The simplest form of the Gothic vault was that in which the compartment comprised between two piers on one side and two on the opposite side of the nave was marked by two ribs bridging it, and two diagonal ribs intersecting each other. As the system advanced the vault became more complex by the addition of other ribs, as strengtheners or as ornaments, until in some examples the whole vault became a network of intersecting ribs.

These intersections were frequently emphasized by a keystone or by an ornament called a boss, which in English work was also placed at intervals along string-courses, breaking the continuity after the manner of modillions in Classic cornices.

A keystone placed in the centre of a vault was held there by a combination of great strength, as it became a point of abutment for all the main ribs, whose thrust was distributed against four piers and hence exteriorly by buttresses to the ground. A good stone, therefore, in this position could have extraordinary dimensions, and was susceptible of a variety of treatment. In some French examples it was extended, or rather hung, considerably below the surface of the vault and ornamentally carved, while in England, in the late so-called Perpendicular Gothic, it formed the centre of a large pendant, or circular hanging ornament, which in some cases came down almost to the level of the springing of the ribs.

This construction was used chiefly in connection with the fan-vaulting, in which English architects excelled, which may indeed be said to be an English invention and monopoly, as no examples of it are found elsewhere. The name explains, in measure, the form taken by the ribs, which, spreading out from the sheaf of mouldings in the pier, trace a perfect semicircle on the upper ceiling, their intervening spaces being occupied by panels. The four semicircles thus traced by the ribs, starting from four piers of a compartment, are each tangent to a central and whole circle forming the contour of the pendant.

To be successful this requires that the compartment or space included between four piers, two on each side of the nave or choir, should be a square, otherwise the circles do not touch, and the lines are inharmonious.

The chapels of Henry the Seventh, at Westminster, and of St. George, at Windsor, contain the best examples of fan-vaulting, and are very beautiful in general effect, though it is questionable whether such constructive tricks are worthy of unrestricted praise, while the abuse of panelling in which English architects indulged in these later Gothic buildings, by which the whole wall and ceiling surface was cut up in an unending repetition, was certainly blameworthy, and tended to reduce their art to a mechanical science.

They excelled, however, in all mechanical workmanship, in which perhaps that employed in the execution of timber roofs is the most remarkable. These were in a measure, at least upon so large a scale, a feature wholly English, for nothing approaching them is found elsewhere. The roof of Westminster Hall is the most justly celebrated and is unique in general character.

The natural stonework showing all its joints was generally left untouched in the interior of Gothic buildings, and afforded the best finish as well as contrast to the stained glass in the windows.

Polychrome decoration was attempted occasionally, chiefly on the Continent, and in some instances successfully. The best examples are the restorations of the Ste. Chapelle and St. Germain des Prés, in Paris, though the latter belongs more properly to the Romanesque period. Many churches have been completely spoiled as regards their inside appearance by coats of whitewash applied to the whole interior surface, giving them a bleak and barn-like aspect fatal to architectural effect; this is especially frequent in Belgium.

This whitewash, coupled with horribly incongruous late Renaissance decoration, has gone far in many cases to ruin what would otherwise be fine buildings.

Externally all good Gothic buildings showed a direct correspondence with the interior: buttresses, flying buttresses, pinnacles, etc., were all constructive and never decorative devices; there was never such a thing as a façade or false front built independently of the interior, and though the harmony of the lines of both were often difficult to reconcile, it was just in the overcoming of such difficulties that the brilliant qualities of Gothic architects were called forth.

In the arrangement of the West fronts the French were at their best, for the combination of deeply recessed porches with the rose window and gable above, flanked by the towers, which in France were usually placed here, was both judicious and effective. In England such porches as those of Rheims, or deep openings, such as the entrances to the cathedral of Paris, were not used, and the West elevations are consequently less interesting. Peterborough is an exception to this rule, but the design is so exaggerated, that the three immense arcades dwarf everything connected with them.

The custom of placing a tower and spire over the intersection of the nave and transept was always adhered to in England, and was always a happy arrangement which gave the building dignity and character, even when the Western towers were omitted. Of this the celebrated Salisbury Cathedral is a beautiful example.

The spires of Chartres and of St. Ouen, at Rouen, are the finest in France, where towers were frequently built to receive spires which were never added. The height to which the nave was carried there often prevented the towers from having their due effect, as it was impossible to carry them out on a scale large enough to give them a corresponding proportion. English architects contented themselves with moderate interior heights, rendering the proportioning of their buildings a much easier task than that which their neighbours imposed upon themselves, by attempting with each new building a more daring altitude, until the crumbling vaults of Beauvais set a limit to their audacity.

The comparison of contemporary Gothic in England and France covers the subject more accurately than between that of any other countries, for these two nations rivalled each other all along in the solution of the various problems which arose with each step in their progress, while the architects of other countries profited by the results they attained and erected their buildings on Anglo-French principles.

The cathedrals of Cologne, in Germany, and Toledo, in Spain, are as fine as any to be found in France or England, but they are neither German nor Spanish in conception and principle, and therefore do not belong to the national architecture of these countries.

In Italy, Gothic architecture was never understood as it was in the North, and whenever anything was attempted in direct imitation of Northern principles of design, the result was always hard and mechanical. The true Italian Gothic was of itself often beautiful, but this was almost a separate style, in which the influences of pointed forms, Oriental colour, and the example which the Classical ruins held out so conspicuously on their own soil, were brought together by the Italians so as to form an harmonious whole.

In Venice a peculiar development of the style was attained, adapted to the flat elevations of the canal palaces. This arrangement consisted of a consecutive series of arcades, in which the mouldings of each arch were carried up and returned, forming a second and sometimes a third row of lights, replacing, in the play of light and shadow, the forced absence of projections.

These arcades were surmounted by horizontal mouldings, and the lines of the cornices and imposts were also horizontal, the Italians never having lost sight of the entablature, which had been dropped in France with the rise of Romanesque architecture and replaced always afterward by the vertical lines which are the prominent one sin of all Northern Gothic buildings.

The celebrated Doge’s palace is the foremost of these and ranks amongst the most picturesque buildings in Europe. It is not free, however, from grave defects and is criticised by architects for the top-heavy and injudicious construction, by which a high and rarely pierced wall is sustained by the slenderest of arcades.

Most of these palaces are of the fifteenth century and should not perhaps be mentioned first, but as they illustrate the principle of horizontal lines more readily than by reference to the isolated parts of less well-known buildings, they are introduced now.

Although Milan Cathedral is one of the largest and most pretentious ecclesiastical buildings in Italy, it is scarcely a good example of Italian Gothic, for German architects were employed in its construction and their influence is apparent. It is rather to the Cathedral of Sienna that we should turn for a complete typical Italian structure. Here we find a beautiful building and yet one which can in no way be judged from a Northern standard. The West front has three porches, but their recessed arches are round instead of pointed, although the detail is Gothic (the church having been begun in the middle of the thirteenth century); above is a rose window, but, unlike the Western models, without dividing tracery. Both the exterior and interior are striped with alternate bands of black and white marble. The intersection of the nave and transept is covered by a dome, a feature unknown in France or England (with the single exception of the wooden one in the cathedral of Ely), and the tower or campanile is placed in the angle of the South transept. These points are all essentially different from Northern treatment, in which some of them would be considered defects. Here, however, the parts are sufficiently harmoniously united to produce a whole which is pleasing and original. The cathedral of Sienna has much in addition to these to make it interesting: attached to it is a library—a later building, beautifully decorated in a style similar to the Loggie of Raphael in the Vatican; the stalls of the choir are of carved wood, of the richest Renaissance design, and the pulpit, by Nicholas Pisano, is a gem of sculpture. This pulpit is octagonal; its sides are carved in high relief in representation of Scriptural scenes, and it is supported by polished columns carrying trefoiled arches and resting upon marble lions in lieu of bases. As a work in which both sculpture and architecture combine, it is, on a small scale, one of the most beautiful productions of its kind, essentially Italian, and rivalled only by that in the baptistery of Pisa by the same artist.

The body of a lion as the base of a column was a favourite device of Italian architects, and is frequently met with. Porches formed of columns carrying a round arch and gable and resting on lions, are often attached to the entrance of churches.

Orvieto Cathedral is, on a smaller scale, similar to the neighbouring cathedral of Sienna. The West front is designed with most elaborate detail and highly ornamented with painting and sculpture. The Duomo of Florence partakes also of the general characteristics of Sienna, although its proportions are vastly larger. Its most striking feature is the great dome, added by Brunelleschi, when the church, designed by Arnolfo, was approaching completion; but it is unsatisfactory, as its immense size dwarfs the rest of the building. The general picturesqueness of outline, the delicate design of the doors and windows, and the proximity of the beautiful tower of Giotto, go far to atone for this. The exterior walls of the church are covered with a veneering of coloured marbles, which, while judiciously treated and good of its kind, is too false to be easily reconciled to true artistic principles, and its skin-deep beauty has been painfully apparent, until very recently, owing to the unfinished condition of the West front.

It may be said in extenuation of this that plaster, while generally accepted as an honest material, is no less a shallow covering to disguise naked walls; it is, however, frequently misused, and is only tolerable so long as it is not employed in imitation of better materials, while the thin marble is really intended to deceive the eye, and give the impression that its depth is equal to that of the wall.

The interior of the Florence Cathedral is disappointing, it is insufficiently lighted, bare, and much in need of the frescos with which it was originally intended to be decorated.

The cathedral of Pisa belongs in greater part to the preceding style, but the campo-santo adjoining it has a cloister with traceried windows, which, notwithstanding its round arches, more nearly resembles Northern Gothic than anything in Italy, and by its greater height shows a novel and more effective treatment than is usually seen in France or England.

The little church of St. Maria della Spina in this town, on the banks of the Arno, is a charming little edifice of the Sienna type.

In civil architecture Italy has much to boast of. Her palaces and fortresses are amongst the noblest and most picturesque buildings of the Middle Ages found anywhere in Europe. Most of these are rectangular masses of stone, the austerity of which is relieved by heavy window-openings with pointed heads and moulded frames, and crowned by a battlemented cornice, occasionally enlivened by shields placed between alternate corbels. The addition of the campanile, used as a lookout tower rather than as a belfry, generally completes an imposing structure.

Of those in stone, the Palazzo Vecchio and the Bargello, in Florence, are among the finest of these half town-hall, half fortress buildings, while the Municipio of Sienna, with its immensely high campanile, may be mentioned as typical of those in brick. Nearly every large city possesses one of these tall towers, notably Verona, Cremona, Mantua, and Florence. In the last-named the tower of Giotto is the most highly ornamented and graceful of this class of structure, and for general proportions unsurpassed. Longfellow, in his well-known poem, regrets the lack of a spire to complete it, but it is questionable whether such an addition could have been made in keeping with the style in which it is designed.

In France the lately restored Chateau de Pierrefonds, near Compiegne, illustrates, perhaps as well as any, the typical military building of the Gothic period, with all the usual accompanying structures. The exterior walls are high and massive, with round towers at the angles crowned with projecting battlements and conical roofs. An interior court is reached only by traversing a drawbridge and passing through an outer gate and passage defended by heavy portcullis. Around this court are grouped the apartments, banqueting-halls, the chapel, and the necessary quarters for residents and garrison.

The number of remaining domestic buildings of the period is comparatively limited. The house of Jacques Coeur at Bourges, the monastic Hotel de Cluny, in Paris, the Palais de Justice, and the Hotel Bourgtheroulde, in Rouen, may be mentioned among the few still standing, as the best examples of contemporary architecture.

Of small half-timbered houses there remain a fair number in France, though they are daily being demolished, in the principal cities, to make way for so-called improvements.

England is rich in military and civil buildings: the castles of Windsor, Warwick, Kenilworth, Rochester, and the Tower of London, are all well known and have been frequently described. Perhaps the most interesting of English civil structures of the Middle Ages, are the colleges at Oxford; as, however, they follow, in the Gothic treatment, the progress of the styles, as illustrated in the contemporary ecclesiastical edifices, they do not require special description.

The town-halls of Belgium are important Gothic buildings, and are found in all the principal cities of that country. Their flat façades are singularly rich, but as they embody only the forms and ornament of Gothic art, they are less interesting and poorer examples than any less pretentious structures showing the constructive element, which predominated in the Gothic style.

Toward the close of the style, and before the rebirth of Classic art had completely superseded Gothic architecture, a curious transitional style had a brief sway, in which both were blended. The wing of the Chateau de Blois, built by Louis XII., and the Chateau de Gaillon, built by Cardinal Amboise, in the year 1500, the façade of which is now preserved in the courtyard of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, may be regarded as the best specimens of this charming and short-lived art. The churches of St. Etienne du Mont, and St. Eustache, at Paris, may be added to these as typical of the contemporary religious edifices.

In them we see the last throes of a dying style which had become extravagant and distorted in its final efforts to survive, but retained traces of its former beauty even in its expiring moments.

The Gothic style arose in the latter half of the twelfth century, it attained its greatest purity and simplicity in the thirteenth; during the fourteenth a more extensive use of ornament was introduced, in consequence of which it has been termed Decorated Gothic; finally, in the fifteenth, its principles and principal features were exaggerated and pushed to their utmost limits, until its brilliancy, flickering in the flamboyant traceries of the latest period, expired and gave place to a Classic revival.