II. BASILICAS
CONTENTS.
Plan of St. Gall—Church at Mittelzell in island of Reichenau— Romain-Motier— Granson—Church at Gernrode—Trèves—Hildesheim—Cathedrals of Worms and Spires—Churches at Cologne—Other churches and chapels— Double churches—Swiss churches.
ST. GALL.
AS just mentioned, the history of Gothic architecture in Germany commences practically with Charlemagne; and, by a fortunate accident, we are able to begin our account of it by quoting from a contemporary illustration of the greatest interest and importance. In the library of the monastery of St. Gall, in Switzerland, a manuscript plan of a great monastic establishment was found by Mabillon in the 17th century, and published by him in the second volume of the ‘Annals of the Benedictine Order.’ The name of the author is not known; but, from some dedicatory verses on the back, it appears certain that it was sent to Gospertus, who was abbot of the monastery, in the beginning of the 9th century, and who in fact rebuilt the church and part of the monastic buildings between the years 820 and 830. Mabillon conjectures that the plan was prepared by Eginwald, the friend of Charlemagne, and who was also the director of his buildings. It is by no means improbable that this may have been the case, though it does not seem possible to prove it.
It is a matter of extreme difficulty to decide how far this plan was followed in the erection of either the church or monastery of St. Gall at this remote period, for everything there has been altered at subsequent times; nor is it very important to enquire. The plan does not pretend to represent any particular establishment, but is a “projet” of what was then considered a perfect monastery. In this respect it resembles the plans of fortified towns which are engraved in our books of fortification representing the systems of Vauban, Coehorn, Montalembert, &c., and which, though applicable mutatis mutandis to every place, have never literally been carried out in any one. It is in fact an illustration of the Benedictine system, as applicable to Germany in the ninth century, in its completed and most perfect form, and on this account is far more interesting to us than if it had been merely a plan of any particular monastery.
The plan itself is on four sheets of parchment sewn together, and is so large (2 ft. 7 in. by 3 ft. 7 in.) that only a small portion of it can be reproduced here, and that on a reduced scale.
The whole group of buildings was apparently meant to occupy a space of about 450 ft. by 300. On the north side of the church was situated the abbot’s lodging (B), with a covered way into the church, and an arcade on either face; his kitchen and offices being detached, and situated to the eastward. To the westward of this was the public school (C), and still farther in the same direction the hospitium or guest-house (D D), with accommodation attached to it for the horses and servants of strangers.
Beyond the abbot’s house to the eastward was the dispensary (E), and beyond that again the residence of the doctor (F), with his garden for medical herbs and simples at the extreme corner of the monastery.
To the eastward of the great church was situated another small double-apse church (G G), divided into two by a wall across the centre.
On either side of this church was a cloister, surrounded by apartments: that on the north was the infirmary, next to the doctor’s residence, and to it the western portion of the chapel was attached. The other was the school and residence of the novices. Beyond these was the orchard (H), which was also the cemetery of the monks; and still farther to the southward were situated the kitchen-garden, the poultry-yard, the granaries, mills, bakehouses, and other offices. These last are not shown in the woodcut, for want of space.
On the south side of the church was situated the great cloister (I), and further to the south of this was the refectory (J), with a detached kitchen (K), which also opened into the great wine-cellar (L); and opposite to this was the dormitory (M), with its various dependent buildings.
To the westward was another hospitium (N), apparently for an inferior class of guests; and to the southward and westward (O O) were placed the stables for horses, cattle, sheep, and all the animals required for so large an establishment, the whole arranged with as much skill and care as can be found in the best modern farms.
The principal point of interest is the church, which was designed to be 200 ft. long from east to west and 80 ft. in width, divided into three aisles by two rows of columns; the centre aisle being 40, the outer each 20 ft. in width. It has two apses; the principal one towards the east (A) has a vaulted crypt, in which is a confessio, meant to contain the relics of the patron saint, St. Gall. In front of this is a choir, arranged very much on the model of that of S. Clemente at Rome, before described.[54] The western apse, on the same level as the floor of the church, was to be dedicated to St. Paul, and the eastern one to St. Peter. Between the two choirs is the font, and the altar of St. John the Baptist, and on each side are a range of altars dedicated to various saints. Behind both apses are open spaces or paradises (R R) (parvise), that to the west is surrounded by an open semicircular porch, by which the public were to gain access to the church; and on either side of this, but detached, are two circular towers (P P), each with an altar on its summit, one dedicated to the archangel Michael, the other to Gabriel: these were to be reached by circular stairs or inclined planes. No mention is made of bells, and the text would seem to intimate rather that the towers were designed for watch-towers or observatories. The similarity of their position and form to that of the Irish round towers is most remarkable; but whether this was in compliment to the Irish saint to whom the monastery owed its origin, or whether we must look to Ravenna for the type, are questions not easily determined at the present date, for we know far too little as yet of the archæology of the age to speak with certainty on any such questions. It is by no means improbable that the meaning and origin of these and of the Irish towers were the same; but whether it was a form exclusively belonging to a Celtic or Irish race, or common to all churches of that age, is what we cannot now decide from the imperfect data at our command.
On either side of the east end of the church is an apartment, where the transept is usually found; that on the south is the vestry (S); on the north is the library (T), and attached to the church on the same side is the schoolmaster’s house (U), and beyond that the porter’s (V).
All the living apartments have stoves in the angles, but the dormitory has a most scientific arrangement for heating; the furnace is at (X), and the smoke is conveyed away by a detached shaft at (Y), between which there must have been some arrangement of flues beneath the floor for heating the sleeping-apartment of the monks.
Were it not that the evidence is so incontrovertible, we should feel little inclined to fancy that the monasteries of this dark age showed such refinement and such completeness as is here evidenced; for at no period of their history can anything more perfect be found. In the church especially, the two apses, the number of altars, the crypt and its accompaniments, the sacristy, the library, &c., many of which things have generally been considered as the invention of subsequent ages, are marked out distinctly and clearly, as well-understood and usual arrangements of ecclesiastical edifices. This plan in fact refutes at once all the arguments regarding the dates of churches which have been founded on the supposed era of the introduction of these accessories.
By another fortunate coincidence there is a church still standing at Mittelzell, on the island of Reichenau, in the lake of Constance, within thirty miles of St. Gall, which certainly belongs to this date, and is unaltered in nearly all its principal features. It was finished, or at least dedicated, in the year 816, and therefore this event took place just before the rebuilding of St. Gall commenced.[55]
As will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 687) the dimensions of the two churches are nearly the same; on the St. Gall plan they are written 200 ft. by 80. This church is 230 by 83 English feet, but the eastern[56] apse has been rebuilt on a more extended scale, and if we restore its original circular forms, we bring its dimensions so nearly to those of the St. Gall plan that, if its author used what we now know as French feet, the dimensions of the two may be considered as identical. The pier-arches of the nave are plain, and the whole arrangement is not unlike that of the nave of Montier-en-Der (Woodcut No. 610). One of the most remarkable peculiarities of the Reichenau church is the door behind the altar in the western apse, and the great window looking into it, with double stairs which lead up to it, as though the bishop’s throne was placed there above the heads of all. The two principal entrances were, as shown in Woodcut No. 688, on each side of the western apse, and the whole of the elevation—in so far as it is preserved—retains the original design. Although retaining the wooden roof, and never apparently intended to be vaulted, this church is purely Romanesque in all its details. There is not a classical feature about it, and we are rather startled to find a Barbarian style so complete at so early an age, and so far removed from anything that could with propriety be called debased Roman.[57]
There are other churches in this neighbourhood scarcely less ancient in date than this one at Mittelzell, and almost as interesting in their arrangement. Among these may be mentioned that of Romain-Motier, the body of which certainly remains as it was when consecrated in the year 753. The narthex, which is in two storeys, may be a century or two later, and the porch and east end are of the pointed style of the 12th or 13th century. The vaulting of the nave also can hardly be coeval with the original building.
From other examples in the neighbourhood, we may safely infer that it originally terminated eastward in one or three apses. Supposing these to be restored, we have a church of about 150 ft. in length by 55 in width across the nave, with transepts, a tower at the intersection, and nearly all the arrangements found at a much later age, and with scarcely any more reminiscence of the early Christian style than is observable at Mittelzell.
The external mode of decoration is very much that of the two churches of San Apollinare at Ravenna, but is carried one step further, inasmuch as in the upper storey of the nave each compartment is divided into two arches, the centre one carried on a corbel; in the tower there are three such little arches in each bay, and in the narthex five. This design afterwards became in Germany and Italy[59] the favourite string-course moulding.
The church of Granson, on the borders of the lake of Neufchatel, though much smaller, is scarcely less interesting. It belongs to the Carlovingian era, and like many churches of that age, has borrowed its pillars and many of its ornaments from earlier monuments. Its most remarkable peculiarity is the vault of the nave, which shows how timidly at that early period the architects undertook to vault even the narrowest spans, the whole nave with its side-aisles being only 30 ft. wide. It is the earliest specimen we possess of a mode of vaulting which subsequently became very common in the South of France, and which, as has been pointed out above, led to most of the forms of vaulting afterwards introduced.
The church of Notre Dame de Neufchatel, part of which is as old as from 927 to 954, presents also forms of beauty and interest. The same may be said of the tower of the cathedral of Sion, which is of the same age, and of parts also of the cathedral of Geneva.
The church at Payerne is very similar in size and in all its arrangements to that of Romain-Motier; but being two centuries more modern, the transition is complete, and it shows all the peculiarities of a round-arched Gothic style as completely as San Michele at Pavia, or any other church of the same age.
If there are any examples of basilican churches in Germany as old as these Swiss examples, they have not yet been described, nor their age satisfactorily ascertained. The oldest known example, so far as I am aware, is the old Dom at Ratisbon,[60] originally apparently about 45 ft. by 22 in the clear. It was surrounded internally by eleven niches, and vaulted. It also possessed the peculiarly German arrangement of having no entrance at the west end, and has a deep gallery occupying about one-fourth of the church. The lateral entrance is unfortunately gone, so that there is very little ornamental architecture about the place by which its age could be determined; and as no record remains of its foundation, we can only conjecture that it may belong to some time slightly subsequent to the Carlovingian era.[61]
Boisserée places in this age the original cathedrals of Fulda and Cologne, both which he assumes to have been double-apse basilicas, but apparently without any sufficient data. There is no doubt that the cathedral at the latter place, burnt in 1248, was a double-apse church; but if it was anything like his restoration it could not have been erected earlier than the 11th or 12th century, and must have replaced an older building, which, for anything we know, may have been circular, as probably as rectangular; and such would likewise appear to have been the case at Fulda,[63] though there is as little to reason upon there as at Cologne.
There can be little doubt that the church of St. Justinus, built by Archbishop Otgar, 826-847 A.D., at Höchst (between Mayence and Frankfort) is of the Carlovingian period, as also parts of the church of St. Castor at Coblenz, and the churches at Michælstadt and Seligenstadt, the two last erected by Eginwald, the biographer of Charlemagne.
The most important building of the tenth century is the crypt of the Abbey of Quedlinburg, erected by Matilda, consort of Henry I., in 936 A.D. It consists of three aisles, covered with parallel barrel vaults supported upon alternating piers and columns, and is the first appearance of this favourite form of support in German basilicas. The dimensions of this building are 23 feet 8 inches × 22 feet 7 inches, and 32 feet 2 inches to the crown of vault.
The caps and bases take a distinctive form, leading from the debased Roman to the Romanesque, the further development of which can be seen in the choir of the abbey church at Essen, erected shortly after 947 A.D.
Leaving these, we must come down to the end of the 10th or beginning of the 11th century for examples of the class we are now speaking of. Of these, one of the most perfect and interesting is the church at Gernrode, in the Hartz, founded A.D. 960, when probably the eastern part (not the extended choir) was commenced, and the whole building may be assumed to have been erected within a century after that date. From the plan (Woodcut No. 692) it will be seen how singularly like it is to the St. Gall example, except that it appears to have been originally about 50 ft., or one-fourth, less in length. The western circular towers, instead of being detached, are here joined to the building. Piers too are introduced internally, alternating with pillars; and altogether the church shows just such an advance on the St. Gall plan as we might expect a century or so to produce. It exemplifies most satisfactorily the original form of these churches.
It possesses what is rare in this country—a bold triforium gallery, and externally that strange frontispiece, forming the connecting gallery of the two towers, which is so distinguishing a characteristic of German churches. A still bolder example of this gallery remains in the façade of the once famous abbey of Corvey, on the eastern frontier of Westphalia (Woodcut No. 694), where we find the feature developed to its fullest extent, so that it must originally have entirely hidden the church placed behind it, as it did afterwards at Strasbourg and in many other examples.
At Gernrode, as at Mittelzell, the roof was originally intended to have been of wood, the crypts under the two apses being alone vaulted. Indeed at that age the German architects hardly felt themselves skilled enough to undertake a stone roof of any great extent. The old Dom at Ratisbon is only 22 ft. in width, and that they could accomplish, but not apparently one like Gernrode, where the span was twice that in extent.
If the church at Gernrode is a satisfactory specimen of a complete German design carried out in its integrity, the cathedral at Trèves is both more interesting as well as instructive from a very different cause. It is one of those aggregated buildings of all ages and styles which let us into the secrets of the art, and contain a whole history within themselves; and as the dates of the successive building eras can be ascertained with very tolerable accuracy, it may be as well to describe it next in the series, to explain how and when the various changes took place.
As is well known, the original cathedral at Trèves was built by the pious Helena, mother of Constantine, and seems, like the contemporary church at Jerusalem, to have consisted of two distinct edifices, one rectangular, the other circular. The original circular building was pulled down in the 13th century, to make way for the present Liebfrauen church erected on its site, and most probably of the same dimensions. Of the other, or square building, enough still remains encased in the walls of the present basilica to enable us to determine its size and plan with very tolerable accuracy. The plan of it in the woodcut (No. 696) is taken from Schmidt’s most valuable work on the Antiquities of Trèves. The atrium has been added by myself, because it was an almost universal feature in churches of the date in which this was erected, and because there is every reason to believe that the present church occupied as nearly as possible the exact site of the older one, and is of the same dimensions. The circular church is restored from the Roman examples of the same age (Woodcuts 227, and 422 to 436). From their relative positions it will be seen how indispensable the atrium must have been.
This Romanesque church seems to have remained pretty much in its original state till the beginning of the 11th century, when the Archbishop Poppo found it so ruinous from age, that it required to be almost entirely rebuilt. He first encased the pillars of the Romans in masonry, making them into piers. He then took in and roofed over the atrium, and added an apse at the western end, thus converting it into a German church of the approved model, so that from this time forward the buildings took the form shown in the Woodcut No. 692. No very important works seem to have been undertaken from the beginning of the 11th till the middle of the 12th century, when Bishop Hillin is said to have undertaken the repair or rebuilding of the eastern apse: he did not proceed beyond the foundation; but the work was taken up and completed by Bishop John, who held the see from 1190 to 1212. These two apses, therefore, one an example of the beginning of the German round-arched style, the other representing the same near its close, show clearly the progress which had been made in the interval.
The first of these apses (Woodcut No. 697) is perhaps somewhat ruder than we might reasonably expect, though this may in part be accounted for by its remote provincial situation. The round towers too are subordinate to the square ones, in a manner more congenial to French than to German taste. But the principal defect is in the apsidal gallery, which is rude and tasteless as compared with other specimens, which we are apparently justified in considering as contemporary. Before the later or eastern apse was erected the gallery had almost run into the opposite extreme of minute littleness, and the polygonal form and projecting buttresses of pointed architecture were beginning to supersede the simpler outlines of the parent style, of which these two specimens form as it were the Alpha and the Omega. Between them the examples and varieties are so numerous, that there really is an embarras de richesse in selecting those most appropriate for illustration.
The church of St. Michael at Hildesheim, erected by Bishop Bernward in the first years of the 11th century, is among the earliest and most interesting of those remaining in sufficient purity to enable us to judge correctly of their original appearance. The plan (Woodcut No. 700) consists of nave and aisles, an eastern and western transept both projecting beyond the aisles, and flanked by octagonal towers with staircases in them. The west choir, of one bay and apse, is flanked by two vestries, with a low aisle round the apse, and entered only from it. At the east end there were originally a central and two side apses,[65] but in the 12th century the central apse was replaced by one of equal length to that at the west end. All these apses have long ago disappeared. The entrances are as usual on each side of the nave, and none at the west end. Though the proportions appear short with reference to the breadth, considerable additional effect is given by the screens that shut off both arms of the eastern transept so as not to allow the perspective effect to be broken. Hence the continuous view of the central aisle, being six times as long as it is broad, gives the appearance of far greater length to the church than could be supposed possible from its lineal dimensions. But the great beauty here is the elegance both in proportion and detail of the pier-arches, which separate the nave from the aisles; the proportion of the pillars is excellent, their capitals rich and beautiful, and every third pillar being replaced by a pier gives a variety and apparent stability which is extremely pleasing.
The church at Limburg, near Dürkheim, in the Bavarian Rhenish Palatinate, erected by the Emperor Conrad (A.D. 1024-39), is a similar though rather a larger church than that at Hildesheim, and possesses a peculiarity somewhat new in Germany, of a handsome western porch and entrance, with a choir with a square termination, instead of with an apse as was usual. Another fine church, with a plan of the same form, is the Benedictine abbey church at Echternach, dedicated to St. Willibrord (a Northumbrian missionary monk). It was consecrated in 1031. The extreme dimensions are 265 ft. by 72 ft.
The three great typical buildings of this epoch are the Rhenish cathedrals of Mayence, Worms, and Spires. The first was commenced in the 10th century, and still possesses parts belonging to that age. The present edifice at Worms belongs principally to the church dedicated there in 1110. The age of the third and most important of these three cathedrals is still a matter of controversy, and one, I fear, that will not be settled without difficulty; for the church has been so frequently damaged by fire and war, and lately by ill-judged restorations, that it is not easy to ascertain what portions of it are old and what new. Still I cannot help feeling convinced that the plan, and probably a great part at least of the present structure, may belong to the original building of Conrad, commenced in 1030, and which was dedicated by his grandson Henry IV., thirty-one years afterwards.
Except the eastern apse, which is as usual flanked by two round towers, the whole of the exterior of Mayence has been so completely rebuilt, that little can now be said about it. The plan presents nothing remarkable, except that it is evident, from its solidity and arrangement, that it was intended from the commencement to be a vaulted building; while of its details only one doorway remains which can with certainty be said to belong to the original foundation.[66] It is remarkable principally for the classicality of its details, and if its age is correctly ascertained (the end of the 10th century), it would go far to confirm the date usually assigned to the portal at Lorsch, namely, the late Carlovingian period.
At Worms, the only part now remaining of the edifice dedicated in 1110 is the eastern end. The western apse cannot be older than the year 1200, the intermediate parts having been erected between those dates. The original plan is probably nearly unchanged, and is a fine specimen of its class. The eastern apse is a curious compromise between the two modes of finishing that were in use at that period, being square externally, and circular in the interior. Internally the vaulting throughout is simple and judicious, without any straining after effects like those which puzzled the Norman architects in the same age (see ante, p. 114), and the alternate clustered piers and large size of the windows give to the whole a variety and lightness not usual in churches of that date. Nothing can well be simpler or nobler than the design externally. The four circular towers and the two domes break the sky-line pleasingly, and the ornamentation throughout is good and appropriate. Among the best of its details are the pilaster-like buttresses which ornament its flanks; one of these is shown on a larger scale (Woodcut No. 702). They display the true feeling of Romanesque art: one moulding on each side running round the windows, while the central group forms a pilaster running up to the cornice.
If the design has a defect, it is the want of dignity in the lateral entrances, and from these moreover being placed unsymmetrically on the flanks. The fact of these being lateral arose from the double-apse arrangement; but there seems no reason why they should not have been central, and been covered by a porch to give them dignity. Whether right or wrong, this position of the entrances is typical of German church architecture, and is found in all ages.
Although the cathedral of Spires cannot boast of the elegance and finish of that of Worms, it is perhaps, taken as a whole, the finest specimen in Europe of a bold and simple building conceived, if the expression may be used, in a truly Doric spirit. Its general dimensions are 435 ft. in length by 125 in width; and taken with its adjuncts, it covers about 57,000 square feet, so that though of sufficient dimensions, it is by no means one of the largest cathedrals of its class. It is built so solidly, that the supporting masses occupy nearly a fifth of the area, and like the other great building of Conrad’s, the church of Limburg, this possesses, what is so rare in Germany, a narthex or porch,[67] and its principal entrance faces the altar. Its great merit is the daring boldness and simplicity of its nave, which is 45 ft. wide between the piers, and 105 ft. high to the centre of the vault, dimensions never attained in England, though they are equalled or surpassed in some of the French cathedrals. There is a simple grandeur about the parts of this building which gives a value to the dimensions unknown in later times, and it may be questioned if there is any other Mediæval church which impresses the spectator more by its appearance of size than this.
Externally, too, the body of the church has no ornament but its small window openings, and the gallery that runs round under all its roofs. But the bold square towers (certainly of the 12th century) and the central dome group pleasingly together, and, rising so far above the low roofs of the half-depopulated town at its feet, impress the spectator with awe and admiration at the boldness of the design and the grandeur with which it has been carried out. Taken altogether, this noble building proves that the German architects at that time had actually produced a great and original style, and that had they persevered they must have succeeded in perfecting it, but they abandoned their task before it was half completed.
The western apse of the cathedral at Mayence is the most modern part of these three great cathedrals, and perhaps the only example in Germany where a triapsal arrangement has been attempted with polygonal instead of circular forms. In this instance, as shown in Woodcut No. 705, the three apses, each forming three sides of an octagon, are combined together so as to form a singularly spacious and elegant choir, both externally and internally as beautiful as anything of its kind in Germany. Its style is so nearly identical with that of the eastern apse of the cathedral at Trèves (Woodcut No. 698), that there can be no doubt but that, like it, it belongs to the beginning of the 13th century. At this time more variety and angularity were coming into use, suggested no doubt by the greater convenience which flat surfaces presented for inserting larger windows than could conveniently be used with the older curved outlines; for now that painted glass had come into general use, large openings had become indispensable for its display. Notwithstanding this advantage, and the great beauty of the other forms often adopted, none of them compensate for the external effect of the circular lines of the older buildings.
Proceeding northwards, we find in the churches of Westphalia a fine series of examples which are comparatively but little known. Among the more important of these we may mention Münster, with its fine and impressive nave, Soest, Paderborn, Lippstadt, Osnabrück, Hildesheim, Hameln, Hersfeld, Brunswick, Quedlinburg, Goslar, Gelnhausen, etc. They are very numerous, and many of them are sufficiently large for architectural effect; but in the earlier Romanesque work they are somewhat heavy, and in the age of the pointed Gothic style there is a tendency to attenuation which is the reverse of pleasing. In some of the early churches there is considerable refinement, as may be seen in the narthex porch of the cathedral of Soest (Woodcut No. 706); and in the Schloss Kirche at Quedlinburg there is a profusion of sculpture in the capitals, some of which show considerable Byzantine influence.
A good deal of the heaviness of the northern churches internally may no doubt be traced to the circumstance that the earlier examples depended almost wholly on colour for their ornament, and the painting having disappeared, the plain stone or plaster surfaces remain—their flatness being made only the more prominent by the whitewash that now covers them. Notwithstanding these defects, so many of these churches remain in a state so nearly unaltered at the present day, that much information might be gleaned from a study of their peculiarities. The three examples, for instance, given in Woodcut No. 706, illustrate very completely the progress of German spire-growth. The first, that of Minden, is a very early example of the façade screen so popular throughout Germany in the Middle Ages. The central example, from the cathedral at Paderborn, belonging to the middle of the 11th century, shows one of the earliest attempts at a spire-like roof to a tower, four gables being used instead of the two which were generally employed. The third illustration, from Soest, about A.D. 1200, shows the transition complete. The four gables are still there, but do not extend to the angles, nor do they form the principal roof. The corners are cut off, so as to suggest an octagon, and a second roof has grown up to the form of a spire, entirely eclipsing that suggested by the gables. In this instance also the tower has become a specimen of a complete design, and, though the narthex or porch has somewhat the appearance of being stuck on, the upper part of the tower is of considerable elegance.
The same process of spire-growth can be traced to some extent both in England and in France, but on the whole it is by no means clear that the spire, properly so called, is not an importation from the banks of the Rhine. Height in the roof appears always to have been considered a beauty by German architects, and it seems to have been applied to towers earlier in Germany than in other countries.
Far more important than these, and surpassing them infinitely in beauty, is the group of churches which adorns the city of Cologne, the virtual capital, or at least the principal city, of Germany at the time of their erection. The old cathedral has perished and made way for the celebrated structure that now occupies its place. As just remarked, if it was like the restoration proposed by Boisserée, it resembled Worms, and must have belonged to the 12th century; but it does not seem that there are sufficient data for determining this question.
Of the remaining churches three may be selected as types of the German round-arched style as it existed on the eve of the introduction of the French pointed style into Germany.
Of these, Sta. Maria in Capitolio (Woodcut No. 707) is apparently the oldest. It was originally erected by Plectrudis, wife of Pepin Heristall, in the year 700, but of that church nothing now remains. The nave was rebuilt apparently in the 11th century, and the choir, with its three noble apses, in the 12th, and perhaps even as late as the 13th century. In plan these apses are more spacious than those of the Apostles’ Church or of that of St. Martin (Woodcuts 708 and 709), this church alone having a broad aisle running round each, a feature which gives great breadth and variety to the perspective, but the apse of the Church of the Apostles (erected A.D. 1035) is far more beautiful externally. This latter building is perhaps, taken altogether, the most pleasing example of its class, externally at least. The whole design of the east end is quite complete, as we now see it, and is perfectly well balanced in all its parts. St. Martin’s, on the other hand (Woodcut No. 709), has more of the aspiring tendencies of the pointed style, and, though very elegant, its apsidal gallery is too small, and the whole design somewhat wire-drawn, while there is a solidity and repose about the design of the Apostles’ Church, and a perfect harmony among the parts, which we miss in the more modern example. These three churches, taken together, suffice probably to illustrate sufficiently the nature and capabilities of the style which we are describing. The triapsal arrangement possesses in a remarkable degree the architectural propriety of terminating nobly the interior to which it is applied. As the worshipper advances up the nave, the three apses open gradually upon him, and form a noble and appropriate climax without the effect being destroyed by something less magnificent beyond. But their most pleasing effect is external, where the three simple circular lines combine gracefully together, and form an elegant basement for any central dome or tower. Compared with the confused buttresses and pinnacles of the apses of the French pointed churches, it must certainly be admitted that the German designs are far nobler, as possessing more architectural propriety and more of the elements of true and simple beauty. The churches which possess this feature are small, it is true, and therefore it is hardly fair to compare them with such imposing edifices as the great and overpoweringly magnificent cathedral of the same town; but among buildings on their own scale they are as yet unrivalled. As these churches now stand, their effect is to some extent marred by the circumstance of their naves neither being sufficient in extent nor so ornamental as to support effectually the varied outline and rich decoration of the apse. Generally these are of a different age and of a less ornate style, so that the complete effect of a well-balanced composition is wanting; but this does not suffice to destroy the great beauties these churches undoubtedly possess.
In so far as beauty of design in this style is concerned, perhaps the church at Bonn ought to be quoted next after those of Cologne. It is only the east end, however, that belongs properly to their style of architecture, the nave and central tower were not completed till the 13th century; but the eastern apse and its two flanking towers are in themselves as noble as the triapsal arrangement of the Apostles’ Church, but would require even a bolder nave and loftier west end to balance them than the more modest arrangement of that building. As it is, the effect of the church as a whole is destroyed by the comparative meanness of these parts.
As is the case with almost all Mediæval buildings, the greater number of churches of this age have been erected at different periods of time, and the designs altered as the work proceeded, to suit the taste of the day. This circumstance makes them particularly interesting to the architectural historian, though the artist and architect must always regret the incompleteness and want of harmony which this produces. An exception to this rule is found in the beautiful abbey church at Laach, erected between the years 1093 and 1156, therefore rather early in the style. Its dimensions are small, only 215 ft. internally by 62; but this is compensated for by its completeness. It is one of the few churches that still possess the western paradise or parvise, as shown in the remarkable ancient plan found at St. Gall. The western apse is applied to its proper use of a tomb-house, and on each side of it, as at Mittelzell, are the principal entrances. Externally this church has two central and four lateral towers, two of the latter being square, and two circular. It is impossible to fancy anything more picturesquely pleasing than this group of towers of various heights and shapes, or a church producing a more striking effect with such diminutive dimensions as this one possesses, the highest point being only 140 ft. from the ground-line. No church, however, of the pointed Gothic style has its sky-line so pleasingly broken, while the cornices and eaves still retain all the unbroken simplicity of classic examples, showing how easily the two forms might have been combined by following the path here indicated. This church, the Liebfrauen Kirche at Halberstadt, and the Abbey of Maulbronn[68] in Wurtemburg, the most perfect Cistercian abbey existing, are perhaps the finest and most typical buildings in this style, and sufficient to characterise the form of architecture in vogue in Germany in the great Hohenstaufen period (1138-1284), and in the century immediately preceding the accession to power of that house; but they are not nearly all the really important buildings which during the epoch of true German greatness were erected in almost every considerable city of the empire. In Cologne itself there is the church of St. Gereon, the nave of which, with its crypt, belongs to the 11th century, the apse to the 12th, and the decagonal domed part to the 13th. This is a most interesting specimen of transition architecture, and as such will be mentioned hereafter. So is the church of St. Cunibert, dedicated in 1248, and hardly more advanced in style than the abbey of St. Denis near Paris, built at least a century earlier. The churches of St. George and of Sion in the same city afford interesting examples of the style; but even more important, however, than these are the noble church at Andernach, the remains of the abbey church of Heisterbach, and that of St. Quirinus in Neuss. In the same neighbourhood the little church of Sinzig is a pleasing specimen of the age when the Germans had laid aside the bold simplicity of their earlier forms to adopt the more elegant and sparkling contours of pointed architecture. A little farther up the Rhine the church of St. Castor at Coblentz agreeably exemplifies the later work (1157-1208), its apse being one of the widest and boldest of its class, though deficient in height, and the style may be said to have reached its zenith in the cathedrals of Limburg on the Lahn and Bamberg.
The neighbourhood of Trèves has also some excellent specimens of Romanesque work, among which may be mentioned the abbey of Echternach, the church of St. Mathias, and the interesting and elegant church of Merzig.
In Saxony there are many beautiful though no very extensive examples of the German style. Among these the two ruined abbeys of Paulinzelle and Bürgelin, neither of them vaulted churches, are remarkable for the simple elegance of their forms and details, showing how graceful the style was becoming before the pointed arch was introduced. The church at Wechselburg is also interesting, though somewhat gloomy, and retains a rood-screen of the 12th century (Woodcut No. 714), which is a rare and pleasing example of its class. The church at Hechlingen also deserves mention, and the fragment of the abbey at Göllingen is a pleasing instance of the pure Italian class of design sometimes found in Germany at this age. Its crypt, too (Woodcut No. 715), affords an example of vaulting of great elegance and lightness, obtained by introducing the horse-shoe arch, or an arch more than half a circle in extent, which takes off the appearance of great pressure upon the capital of the pillar, and gives the vault that height and lightness which were afterwards sought for and obtained by the introduction of the pointed arch. It is still a question whether this was not the more pleasing expedient of the two. There was one objection to the use of this horse-shoe shape, that considerable difficulty arose in using arches of different spans in the same roof, which with pointed arches became perfectly easy.
Another example, of more Lombardic design however, is found in the church of Rosheim in Alsace, the façade of which (Woodcut No. 716) belongs as much to Verona as to this side of the Alps. Its interior is of pleasing design, though bolder and more massive than the exterior would lead us to expect.
The façade of the church of Marmoutier in the same province, and of the cathedral of Gebweiler, are two examples—very similar to one another—of a compromise between the purely German and purely Italian styles of design. The small openings in the former look almost like those of a southern clime, but in its present locality give to the church an appearance of gloom by no means usual. Still it has the merit of vigorous and purpose-like character.
At Bamberg the church of St. Jacob is well worthy of attention, and the Scotch church at Ratisbon is one of the best specimens in Germany of a simple basilica without transepts or towers. Its principal entrance is a bold and elegant piece of design, covered with grotesque figures whose meaning it is difficult to understand. Had it been placed at the end of the church, it might have formed the basis of a magnificent façade; but stuck unsymmetrically on one side—as is so usual in Germany—it loses half its effect, and can only be considered as a detached piece of ornamentation, which is here—as it generally is—fatal to its effect as an architectural composition.
DOUBLE CHURCHES.
Before leaving ecclesiastical buildings, it is necessary to allude to a class of double churches and double chapels. Of the former the typical example is the church of Schwartz Rheindorf, erected by Arnold von Wied, Archbishop of Cologne, on his return from Constantinople in 1148, and dedicated in the year 1151. It is in itself a pleasing specimen of the style, irrespective of its peculiarity. It is, however, simply a church in two storeys, and was originally built as a mausoleum, and in the form of a Greek cross without a tower at the intersection. After the death of the Archbishop, his sister Hedwig (Abbess of Essen) extended the nave two bays towards the west in order to form a junction with a nunnery which she had built on the west side. It is probable that the Byzantine plan first carried out exercised much influence on the churches at Cologne and the Rhine generally. At first sight, the lower church looks like an extensive crypt, but this does not seem to have been its purpose so much as to afford an increase of accommodation, to enable two congregations to hear the same service at the same time, there being always in the centre of the floor of the upper church an opening sufficient for those above to hear the service, and for some of them at least to see the altar below. In castle chapels, where this method is most common, the upper storey seems to have been occupied by the noblesse, the lower by their retainers, which makes the arrangement intelligible enough.[69]
The church at Schwartz Rheindorf is not large, being only 112 ft. long, over all, by 53 ft. wide across the transepts; and the two western bays appear to have been added afterwards. The walls of the lower storey are built of sufficient thickness to admit of a gallery being carried all round the church externally on the level of the floor of the upper church. This gives it a very peculiar but pleasing character; and as the details are good and appropriately designed, it is altogether as characteristic and as original a design as can well be found of the purely German style of its age.
In the castle at Nuremberg there is an old double chapel of this sort, but it does not appear in this instance that there was an opening between the two; if it existed, it has been stopped up. There is another at Eger, and two are described by Puttrich in his beautiful work on Saxony: one of these, the chapel at Landsberg near Halle, is given in plan and section in Woodcuts Nos. 720 and 721; and though small, being only 40 ft. by 28 internally, presents some beautiful combinations, and the details are finished with a degree of elegance not generally found in larger edifices; the other, that at Freiburg on the Unstrutt, measuring 21 ft. by 28, is altogether the best of the class, from the beauty of its capitals and the finish of every part of it. It belongs in time to the very end of the 12th, or rather perhaps to the 13th century, and from the form of its vaults and the foliation of their principal ribs, one is almost inclined to ascribe to it a later period; for it would be by no means wonderful if in a gem like this the lords of the castle should revert to their old German style instead of adopting foreign innovations. The windows are of pointed Gothic, and do not appear like insertions. Other examples exist at Goslar, where, however, there is no opening between lower and upper chapel; at Coburg, Lohra, Steinfurt in Westphalia, and Vianden in Luxemburg.
Returning again to Switzerland, with which this chapter began, we find several interesting buildings in that country during the whole round-arched Gothic period, many combining the boldness of the Northern examples with a certain amount of Southern elegance of feeling in the details, which together make a very charming combination. Among these, none are more remarkable than the cathedral at Zurich (Woodcut No. 722). Its date is not correctly known; for though it seems that a church was founded here in the time of Otho the Great, it is very uncertain whether any part of that building is incorporated in the present edifice, the bulk of which is evidently of the 11th or 12th century. The arrangement and details of the nave are so absolutely identical with those of San Michele at Pavia, that both must certainly belong to the same epoch. But in this church we meet with several German peculiarities to which attention cannot be too frequently drawn by those who would characterise correctly the peculiarities of German Gothic.
The first of these is the absence of any entrance in the west front. Where there is an apse at either end, as is frequently the case in the German churches, the cause is perfectly intelligible; but the cathedral of Zurich has not, and never had, an apse at the west end, nor is it easy to suggest any motive for so unusual an arrangement, unless it is that the prevalence of the plan of two apses had rendered it more usual to enter churches in Germany at the side, and it was consequently adopted even where the true motive was wanting. In an architectural point of view, it certainly is a mistake, and destroys half the effect of the church, both internally and externally; but it was very common in Germany before they learnt from the French to make a more artistic arrangement of the several parts.
Another peculiarity is the distinct preparation for two towers at the west end, as proved by the two great piers, evidently intended to support their inner angles. Frequently in Germany the whole west end was carried up to a considerable height above the roof of the nave, and either two or three small spires were placed on this frontal screen. This, however, does not appear to have been the case here; for though the two towers that now adorn it are modern, the intention seems originally to have been the same. Had they been intended to flank the portal, and give dignity to the principal entrance, their motive would have been clear; but where no portal was intended, it is curious that the Germans should so universally have used them, while the Italians, whose portals were almost as universally on their west fronts, should hardly ever have resorted to this arrangement.
The east end, as will be observed, is square, an arrangement not unusual in Switzerland, though nearly unknown in the Gothic churches of Italy and Germany. The lateral chapels have apses, especially the southern one, which I believe to be either the oldest part of the cathedral, or to have been built on the foundations of that of Otho the Great.
The most beautiful and interesting parts of this church are the northern doorway and the cloisters, both of nearly the same age, their date certainly extending some way at least into the 12th century. As specimens of the sculpture of their age, they are almost unrivalled, and strike even the traveller coming from Italy as superior to any of the contemporary sculpture of that country.
One of the doorways of the cathedral of Basle (Woodcut No. 723) is in the same style, and perhaps even more elegant than that of Zurich. Both in the simplicity of its form and in the appropriateness of its details it is quite equal to anything to be found in Italy of the 11th or 12th century. Its one defect, as compared with Northern examples, is the want of richness in the archivolts that surmount the doorway. But, on the other hand, nothing can exceed the elegance of the shafts on either side, the niches of the buttresses, or of the cornice which surmounts the whole composition.
These details of the Swiss buildings are well worthy of the most attentive consideration, inasmuch as they equal those of Provence or the North of Italy in elegance of feeling and design, while they are free from the classical trammels which so frequently mar their appropriateness in those provinces. In Switzerland they are as original as in Northern Germany, and as picturesque, while they are free from the grotesqueness that so frequently mars the beauty of even the best examples in that country.
III. CIRCULAR CHURCHES
CONTENTS.
Aix-la-Chapelle—Nymwegen—Fulda—Bonn—Cobern.
IF we are fortunate in having the St. Gall plan and Reichenau cathedral with which to begin our history of the basilican-formed churches in Germany, we are equally lucky in having in the Dom at Aix-la-Chapelle an authentic example of a circular church of the same age. As Emperor of the Romans, Charlemagne seems to have felt it necessary that he should have a tomb which should rival that of Augustus or Hadrian, while, as he was a Christian, it should follow the form of that of Constantine, or the most approved model of the circular church, which was that which had been elaborated not very long before at Ravenna. Though its design may have been influenced by Romano-Byzantine examples to some extent, the general arrangement of the building, and its details exhibit an originality which is very remarkable. The mode in which the internal octagon is converted into a polygon of sixteen sides, the arrangement of the vaults in both storeys, and the whole design, are so purely Romanesque in form, that it must be far from being the first example of its style. It is, however, the oldest we possess, as well as the most interesting. It was built by the greatest man of his age, and more emperors have been crowned and more important events have happened beneath its venerable vaults than have been witnessed within the walls of any existing church in Christendom. Notwithstanding the doubts that have been thrown lately on the fact, I feel convinced that we now possess the church of Charlemagne in all essential respects as he left it.[70] The great difficulty in fixing its age appears to arise from the circumstance that most of its architectural ornaments have been painted or executed in mosaic, instead of being carved, and time and whitewash have so obliterated these, that the remaining skeleton—it is little else—seems ruder and clumsier than might be expected.
As will be seen from the annexed plan, the church is externally a polygon of sixteen sides, and is about 105 ft. in diameter; internally eight compound piers support a dome 47 ft. 6 in. in diameter. The height is almost exactly equal to the external diameter of the building. Internally this height is divided into four storeys; the two lower, running over the side-aisles, are covered with bold intersecting vaults. The third gallery was vaulted with rampant conical vaults, and above that are eight windows giving light to the central dome.
To the west was a bold tower-like building, flanked, as is usual in this style, by two circular towers containing staircases. To the east was a semicircular niche containing the altar, which was removed in 1353, when the present choir was built to replace it.
There is a tradition that Otho III. rebuilt this minster, though it is more probable that he built for himself a tomb-house behind the altar of that of his illustrious predecessor, where his bones were laid, and where his tomb till lately stood at the spot marked X in the centre of the new choir. What the architect seems to have done in the 14th century was to throw the two buildings into one, retaining the outline of Otho’s tomb-house, which may still be detected in the unusual form shown in the plan of the new building.
The tradition is that this building is a copy of the church of San Vitale at Ravenna, and on comparing its plan with that represented in Woodcut No. 429, it must be admitted that there is a considerable resemblance. But there is a bold originality in the German edifice, and a purpose in its design, that would lead us rather to consider it as one of a long series of similar buildings which there is every reason to believe existed in Germany in that age. At the same time the design of this one was no doubt considerably influenced by the knowledge of the Romano-Byzantine examples of its class which its builders had acquired at Rome and Ravenna. Its being designed by its founder for his tomb is quite sufficient to account for its circular plan—that, as has been frequently remarked, being the form always adopted for this purpose. It may be considered to have been also a baptistery—the coronation of kings in those days being regarded as a re-baptism on the entrance of the king upon a new sphere of life. It was in fact a ceremonial church, as distinct in its uses as in its form from the basilica, which in Italy usually accompanied the circular church; but whether it did so or not in this instance can only be ascertained when the spot and its annals are far more carefully examined than has hitherto been the case.
The circular churches at Nymwegen in Brabant and at Mettlach near Trèves are even less known than this one; the former was apparently built in imitation of Aix-la-Chapelle, and by the same monarch. From the half-section, half-elevation (Woodcut No. 725),[71] it will be seen that it is extremely similar to the one just described, both in plan and elevation, but evidently of a somewhat more modern date. It wants the façade which usually adorned churches of that age; but it seems so unaltered from its original arrangement that it is well worthy of more attention than it has hitherto received. The example at Mettlach (Woodcut No. 725_a_), near Trèves, and known as the Thurm, was built by Lioffinus, a British monk, 987-990. It is octagonal in plan, with a triforium gallery, the arches of which are carried on richly carved cubical capitals (Woodcut No. 725_b_). The building is 32 ft. in diameter and 61 ft. high, there being a third storey above the triforium gallery.
The same design as that of Nymwegen was repeated in the choir of the nuns in the abbey church of Essen (c. 950 A.D.), where, however, there is a double range of columns in the upper gallery.
Of the church of Otho the Great at Magdeburg we know nothing but from a model in stone, about 12 ft. in diameter, still existing in the present cathedral, and containing sitting effigies of Otho and his English Edith, who were buried in the original edifice. The model unfortunately was made in the 13th century, when the original was burnt down; and as the artists in that day were singularly bad copyists, we cannot depend much on the resemblance. It appears, however, to have been a polygon of sixteen sides externally, like the two just mentioned; and if it is correct to assume, as was generally the case, that the choir of the present cathedral is built on the foundation of the older church, its dimensions must have been nearly similar, or only slightly inferior to those of either of the two last-mentioned churches. The details of the model belong to the age in which it was made, and not to that of the church it was meant to represent.
At Ottmarsheim, in Alsace, is another example which, both in design and dimensions, is a direct copy of the church at Aix-la-Chapelle. The only difference in plan is that it remains an octagon externally as well as internally, and that the gallery arches, instead of being filled with a screen of classical pillars borrowed from Italy, are ornamented with shafts supporting eight arches designed for the place. There is no tradition which tells us who built this church, nor for what purpose it was erected. It is older than that at Nymwegen, but is certainly a copy of Charlemagne’s church, and apparently not very much more modern.
At the Petersberg, near Halle, is a curious compound example shown in the Woodcut No. 726. It is a ruin, but interesting as showing another form of circular church, differing from those described above, more essentially German in design, and less influenced by classical and Romanesque forms than they were. It never was or could have been vaulted, and it possesses that singular flat tower-like frontispiece so characteristic of the German style, which is found in no other country, and whose origin is still to be traced.
At Fulda there is a circular church of a more complicated plan than this, though it is in fact only an extension of the same design. The circular part or choir is in this instance adorned with eight free-standing pillars of very classical proportions and design, very similar to those of Hildesheim (Woodcut No. 699). There is a small transeptal entrance on one side of the circle, and apparently a vestry to correspond on the other. It is altogether one of the most perfect buildings of its class, either in Germany or France, in so far at least as its plan is concerned. Its date is probably the beginning of the 11th century, but it stands on a circular crypt of still more ancient date.[72]
At Drüggelte, near Soest, there is a small circular church which deserves notice for the singularity of its plan. Externally it is a polygon of twelve sides. Internally it has four circular piers in the centre, two very large and strong, two more slender, and around them a circle of twelve columns of very attenuated form. As is usual in German churches, the door and apse are not placed symmetrically as regards each other. Its dimensions are small, being only 35 ft. across internally. The German architects are not quite agreed as to its date; generally it is said that its founder brought the plan from the Holy Land, and built it here early in the 12th century in imitation of the Rotunda which the Crusaders found on their arrival in Jerusalem.
Though it is anticipating to some extent the order of the dates of the buildings of Germany, it may be as well to complete here the subject of the circular churches of that country; for after the beginning of the 11th century they ceased to be used except in rare and isolated instances. At that date all the barbarian tribes had been converted, and the baptism of infants was a far less important ceremony than the admission of adults into the bosom of the Church, and one not requiring a separate edifice for its celebration, and tombs had long since ceased to be objects of ambition among a purely Aryan race. At the same time the immense increase of the ecclesiastical orders, and liturgical forms then established, rendered the circular form of church inconvenient and inapplicable to the wants of the age. The basilica, on the other hand, was equally sacred with the baptistery, and soon came to be considered equally applicable to the entombment of emperors and to other similar purposes.
The circular church called the Baptistery at Bonn (Woodcut No. 729), which was removed only a few years ago, was one of the most interesting specimens of this class of monuments in the age to which it belongs. No record of its erection has been preserved, but its style is evidently of the 11th century. Excepting that the straight or rectangular part is here used as a porch, instead of being inserted between the apse and the round church to form a choir, the building is almost identical with St. Tomaso in Limine, and other Lombard churches of the same age. Both externally and internally it is certainly a pleasing and elegant form of church, though little adapted either for the accommodation of a large congregation or to the ceremonies of the Mediæval Church.
There is another small edifice called a Baptistery at Ratisbon, built in the last years of the 12th century, which shows this form passing rapidly away, and changing into the rectangular. It is in reality a square with apses on three sides, and vaulted with an octagonal dome. As we have just seen, the same arrangement forms the principal as well as the most pleasing characteristic of the Cologne churches, where on a larger scale it shows capabilities which we cannot but regret were never carried to their legitimate termination. The present is a singularly pleasing specimen of the class, though very small, and wanting the nave, the addition of which gives such value to the triapsal form at Cologne, and shows how gracefully its lines inevitably group together. On the spot it is still called the Baptistery; but the correct tradition, I believe, is that it was built for the tomb-house of the bishop to whom it owes its erection.
One more specimen will serve to illustrate nearly all the known forms of this class. It is a little chapel at Cobern on the Moselle (Woodcut No. 730), hexagonal in plan, with an apse, placed most unsymmetrically with reference to the entrance—so at least we should consider it; but the Germans seem always to have been of opinion that a side entrance was preferable to one opposite the principal point of interest. The details of this chapel are remarkably elegant, and its external form is a very favourable specimen of the German style just before it was superseded in the beginning of the 13th century by the French pointed style.
There is, besides these, a circular chapel of uncertain date at Altenfurt near Nuremberg, and there are many others at Prague and in various parts of Germany, but none remarkable either for their historical or for their artistic importance. This form went out of use before the style we are describing reached its acmé; and it had not therefore a fair chance of receiving that elaboration which was necessary for the development of its capabilities.
A little farther on we shall have occasion again to take up the subject of circular churches when speaking of those of Scandinavia, where the circular form prevailed to a great extent in the early ages of Christianity in that country; never, however, as a baptistery or a tomb-house, but always as a kirk. It was afterwards introduced by the Danes into Norfolk and Suffolk, but there still farther modified, becoming only a western round tower, instead of a circular nave.
IV. DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE
CONTENTS.
Lorsch—Palaces on the Wartburg and at Gelnhausen—Houses—Windows.
AS might be expected, the remains of domestic architecture are few and insignificant as compared with those of the great monumental churches, which in that age were the buildings par excellence on which the wealth, the talent and the energy of the nation were so profusely lavished.
The earliest building which has been brought to light is certainly the portal of the Convent at Lorsch, near Mannheim. It is now used as a store and has been a good deal defaced; but sufficient remains, not only to show its form, but the character of its details. These are so classical as to justify us in calling the building Romanesque; and if it were not that we have buildings—such for instance as St. Paul-Trois-Châteaux (Woodcut No. 551), which may date in the 10th and 11th century—we might be inclined to assert most confidently that the date of this building must approximate nearly to the time of the departure of the Romans. On the other hand, the purely classical details of such buildings as those found in Provence must render us cautious in judging of the age of any erection at that early time, from the style alone. No church in Germany is so classical in its details as this, but it will not do to rely on these alone for evidence of date; for a hundred churches may have been built for one portal like this, and though ecclesiastical forms had become sacred, an architect may have felt himself justified in resorting to any amount of Paganism in a semi-secular building. On the whole there seems little doubt but that this porch formed part of the monastic building dedicated in the presence of Charlemagne in 774. It may, however, have been erected by an Italian architect, and consequently be more classical in its details than if the product of some purely Teutonic artist.
Its dimensions are inconsiderable, being only 31 ft. by 24. It has three arches in each face, and above them a series of pilasters supporting straight-lined arches—if the expression may be used. These are interesting, as the same form is currently used in our Saxon architecture, but never with such purely classical details as here. It is, in fact, only the elegance of these that gives interest to this building.
Nothing now remains of the palaces which Charlemagne built at Ingelheim, or at Aix-la-Chapelle, nor of the residences of many of his successors, till we come to the period of the Hohenstaufens. Of their palaces at Gelnhausen (1170 A.D.) and on the Wartburg (1140-1190 A.D.) enough remains to tell us at least in what style and with what degree of taste they were erected, and the remains of the contemporary castle of Muenzenburg complete, as far as we can ever now expect it to be completed, our knowledge of the subject.
One of the earliest palaces still existing is that of the Imperial Palace at Goslar, founded by Henry III. It has suffered much from restorations, but probably retains its original plan, the chief feature of which is an immense hall on the upper storey measuring 181 ft. long by 52 ft. wide. Another example with similar hall of less size is found in the Palace of Dankwarderode, in Brunswick, 1150-70. Of the same date is the Palace of Eger, to which Frederic Barbarossa added a chapel in two storeys, similar to the double chapel of Landsberg, both of which are referred to on page 243.
Besides these a considerable number of ecclesiastical cloistered edifices still remain, and some important dwelling-houses in Cologne and elsewhere; but on the whole our knowledge is somewhat meagre,—a circumstance that is much to be lamented, as, from what we do find, we cannot fail to form a high idea of the state of the domestic building arts at that period.
What remains of the once splendid palace of Barbarossa at Gelnhausen consists first of a chapel very similar to those described in the last chapter; it is architecturally a double chapel, except that the lower storey was used as the hall of entrance to the palace, and not for divine service. To the left of this were the principal apartments of the palace, presenting a façade of about 112 ft. in length, and probably half as high. Along the front ran a corridor about 10 ft. deep, a precaution apparently necessary to keep out rain before glass came to be generally used. Behind this there seem to have been three rooms on each floor; the largest, or throne-room, being about 50 ft. square. The principal architectural features of what remains are the open arcades of the façade, one of which is represented in the last woodcut (No. 732). For elegance of proportion and beauty of detail they are unsurpassed by anything of the age, and certainly give a very high idea of the degree of excellence to which architecture and the decorative arts had then been carried, and, as will be observed, they are purely Romanesque in detail, without any trace of the classicality of Lorsch.
The castle on the Wartburg is historically the most important edifice of its class in Germany, and its size and state of preservation render it remarkable in an artistic point of view. It was in one of its halls that the celebrated contest was held between the six most eminent poets of Germany in the year 1206, which, though it nearly ended fatally to one of them at least, shows how much importance was attached to the profession of literature at even that early period. Here the sainted Elizabeth of Hungary lived with her cruel brother-in-law; here she practised those virtues and endured those misfortunes that render her name so dear and so familiar to all the races of Germany; and it was in this castle that Luther found shelter after leaving the Diet at Worms, and where he resided under the name of Ritter George, till happier times enabled him to resume his labours abroad.
The principal building in the castle where these events took place closely resembles that at Gelnhausen, except that it is larger, being 130 ft. in length by 50 in width. It is three storeys in height, without counting the basement, which is added to the height at one end by the slope of the ground.
All along the front of every storey is an open corridor leading to the inner rooms, the dimensions of which cannot now be easily ascertained, owing to the castle having been always inhabited, and altered in modern times to suit the convenience and wants of its recent occupiers. In its details it has hardly the elegance of Gelnhausen, but its general appearance is solid and imposing, the whole effect being obtained by the grouping of the openings, in which respect it resembles the older palaces at Venice more than any other buildings of the class. It has not perhaps their minute elegance, but it far surpasses them in grandeur and in all the elements of true architectural magnificence. It has been recently restored, apparently with considerable judgment, and it well deserves the pains bestowed upon it as one of the best illustrations of its style still existing in Europe.
The extensive ruins of the castle on the Münzenberg, which, like those of Gelnhausen and Wartburg, belongs to the 13th century, though less important, is hardly less elegant than either. It derives a peculiar species of picturesqueness from being built principally of the prismatic basalt of the neighbourhood, the crystals being used in their natural form, and where these were not available, the stones have been rusticated with a boldness that gives great value to the more ornamental parts, in themselves objects of considerable beauty.
None of these castles have much pretension to interest or magnificence as fortifications,—a circumstance which gives an idea of more peaceful times and more settled security than we could quite expect in that age, especially as we find in the period of the pointed style so many and such splendid fortifications crowning every eminence along the banks of the Rhine, and indeed in every corner of the land. These last may, in some instances, have been rebuildings of castles of this date, but I am not aware of any having been ascertained to be so.
There is no want of specimens of conventual buildings and cloisters in Germany of this age; but every one is singularly deficient both in design as a whole and in the elegance of its parts. The beautiful arcades of the palaces we have just been describing nowhere reappear in conventual buildings. Why this should be so it is difficult to understand, but such certainly is the fact. The most elegant that is known to exist is probably the cloister to the cathedral at Zurich. It is nearly square, from 60 to 70 ft. each way. Every side is divided into five bays by piers supporting bold semicircular arches, and these are again subdivided into three smaller arches supported by two slender pillars. The arrangement will be understood from the woodcut (No. 735). This cloister is superior in design to many in France and elsewhere of the same age; its great beauty consists in the details of the capitals and string-courses, which are all different, most of them with figures singularly well executed, but many merely with conventional foliage, not unlike the honeysuckle of the Greeks, and not unworthy of the comparison as far as the mere design is concerned, though the execution is rude. The same is the case with the sculptures of the portal; for though they display even less classical feeling, they show an exuberance of fancy and a boldness of handling which we miss entirely in the succeeding ages, when the art yielded to make way for mere architectural mouldings, as if the two could not exist together. The example of Greece forbids us to believe that such is necessarily the case, but in the Middle Ages it certainly was, that as the one advanced nearer to perfection, the other declined in almost an equal degree.
The best collection of examples of German cloisters is found in Boisserée’s ‘Nieder Rhein.’ But neither those of St. Gereon nor of the Apostles, nor St. Pantaleone at Cologne, merit attention as works of art, though they are certainly curious as historical monuments; and the lateral galleries of Sta. Maria in the Capitol are even inferior in design; their resemblance, however, to the style of Ravenna gives them some value archæologically. The same remarks apply to the cloisters at Heisterbach, and even to the more elegant transitional buildings at Altenberg. Almost all these examples, nevertheless, possess some elegant capitals and some parts worthy of study; but they are badly put together and badly used, so that the pleasing effect of a cloistered court and conventual buildings is here almost entirely lost. The cause of this is hard to explain, when we see so much beauty of design in the buildings to which they are generally accompaniments.
There are several dwelling-houses in Cologne and elsewhere which show how early German town-residences assumed the tall gabled fronts which they retained to a very late period through all the changes which took place in the details with which they were carried out. In the illustration (Woodcut No. 736) there is little ornament, but the forms of the windows and the general disposition of the parts are pleasing, and the general effect produced certainly satisfactory. The size of the lower windows is remarkable for the age, and the details are pure, and are executed with a degree of lightness which we are far from considering as a general characteristic of so early a style.
The windows at the back of the house illustrated in Woodcut No. 736, are so large, that were it not for the unmistakable character of those in front, and of some of its details, we might be inclined to suspect that it belonged to a much more modern age. As shown in the Woodcut No. 737, the details are as light and elegant as anything domestic in architecture of the pointed style.
There are several minor peculiarities which perhaps it might be more regular to mention here, but which it will be more convenient to allude to when speaking of the pointed style. One, however, cannot thus be passed over—and that is the form which windows in churches and cloisters were beginning to assume just before the period when the transition to the pointed style took place.
Up to that period the Germans showed no tendency to adopt window tracery, in the sense in which it was afterwards understood, nor to divide their windows into compartments by mullions. I do not even know of an instance in any church of the windows being so grouped together as to suggest such an expedient. All their older windows, on the contrary, are simple round-headed openings, with the jambs more or less ornamented by nook-shafts and other such expedients. At the end of the 12th and beginning of the 13th century they seem to have desired to render the openings more ornamental, probably because tracery had to a certain extent been adopted in France and the Netherlands at that period. They did this first by foiling circles and semicircles; the former a pleasing, the latter a very unpleasing, form of window, but not so bad as the three-quarter windows—if I may so call them—used in the church of Sion at Cologne (Woodcut No. 738) and elsewhere: these, however, are hardly so objectionable as the fantastic shapes they sometimes assumed, as in the examples (Woodcut No. 739), taken from St. Quirinus at Neuss. Many others might be quoted, the forms of which are constructively bad without being redeemed by an elegance of outline that sometimes enables us to overlook their other faults. The more fantastic of these, it is true, were seldom glazed, but were mere openings in towers or into roofs. These windows are also generally found in transition specimens, in which men try experiments before settling down to a new course of design. Notwithstanding this, they are very objectionable, and are the one thing that shakes that confidence which might otherwise be felt in the power of the old German style to have perfected itself without foreign aid.
V. POINTED STYLE IN GERMANY
CONTENTS.
History of style—St. Gereon, Cologne—Churches at Gelnhausen—Marburg— Cologne Cathedral—Freiburg—Strasburg—St. Stephen’s, Vienna—Nuremberg— Mühlhausen—Erfurt.
IT is scarcely necessary to repeat—what has been already perhaps sufficiently insisted upon—that the Germans borrowed their pointed style from the French at a period when it had attained its highest degree of perfection in the latter country. At all events, we have already seen that the pointed style was commonly used in France in the first half of the 12th century, and that it was nearly perfect in all essential parts before the year 1200; whereas, though there may be here and there a solitary instance of a pointed arch in Germany (though I know of none) before the last-named date, there is certainly no church or building erected in the pointed Gothic style the date of which is anterior to the first years of the 13th century. Even then it was timidly and reluctantly adopted, and not at first as a new style, but rather as a modification to be employed in conjunction with old forms.
This is very apparent in the polygonal part of the church of St. Gereon at Cologne (Woodcuts Nos. 740 and 741), commenced in the first year of the 13th century, and vaulted about the year 1212.[73] The plan of the building is eminently German, being in fact a circular nave, as contradistinguished from the French chevet, and is a fine bold attempt at a domical building, of which it is among the last examples. In plan it is an irregular decagon, 55 ft. wide over all, north and south, and 66 ft. in the direction of the axis of the church. Notwithstanding the use of the pointed arch, the details of the building are as unlike the contemporary style of France as is the plan; and are, in fact, nearly a century behind French examples in the employment of all those expedients which give character and meaning to the true pointed style.
Another church in the same city, St Cunibert, is a still more striking example of this. Commenced in the first decade of the 13th century, and dedicated in 1248, the very year in which it is said the foundation-stones of the cathedral were laid, it still retains nearly all the features of the old German style, and though pointed arches are introduced, and even tracery to a limited extent, it is still very far removed from being what can be considered an example of the new style.
More advanced than either of these is the choir of the cathedral of Magdeburg, said to have been commenced in 1208, and dedicated in 1254. This was built, as before mentioned, to supply the place of the old circular sepulchral church of Otho and his English queen Edith. Hence it naturally took the French chevet form, of which it is, probably, the earliest example in Germany, and which it copies rudely and imperfectly in its details. It possesses the polygonal plan, the graduated buttresses, the decorative shafts, and other peculiarities of the French style, and, if found in that country, would be classed as of about the same age as St. Denis. The upper part of the choir and the nave are of very much later date, and will be mentioned hereafter.
A more interesting example of transition than this is the church at Gelnhausen, unfortunately not of well-known date, but apparently built in the middle of the 13th century, though the choir, it is said, was not finished till 1370. Its interest lies in its originality, for though the pointed arch is adopted, it is in a manner very different from that followed by the French, and as if the architects were determined to retain a style of their own. In general design its outline is very like that of the church at Sinzig (Woodcut No. 713). In it attempts are even made to copy its apsidal galleries, but their purpose is misunderstood, and pillars are placed in front of windows,—a blunder afterwards carried, at Strasburg and else where, to a far more fatal extent. Taken altogether, the style here exhibited is light and graceful; but it neither has the stability of the old round-arched Gothic, nor the capabilities of the French pointed style. The Liebfrauen church attached to the cathedral at Trèves is another of the anomalous churches of this age (1227 to 1243): its plan has already been given (Woodcut No. 696), and was probably suggested by the form of the old circular building which it supplanted. Perhaps from its proximity to France it shows a more complete Gothic style than either of those already mentioned; still the circular arch continually recurs in doorways and windows, and altogether the uses of the pointed forms and the general arrangement of parts and details cannot be said to be well understood. There is, however, a novelty, truly German in its plan and a simplicity about its arrangement, which make it the most pleasing specimen of the age, and standing on the foundation of the old church of Sta. Helena, and grouped with the Dom or cathedral, it yields in interest to few churches in Germany.
From these we may pass at once to two churches of well-authenticated date, and slightly French in style. The first, that of St. Elizabeth at Marburg, whose name has been already mentioned (p. 258) as adding interest and sanctity to the old castle on the Wartburg. Four years after her death she was canonised, and in the same year, 1235, the foundation was laid of this beautiful church, which was completed and dedicated forty-eight years afterwards, viz., in 1283.
It is a small church, being only 208 ft. in length by 69 in width internally, and though the details are all of good early French style, it still exhibits several Germanisms, being triapsal in plan, and the three aisles being of the same height. The latter must be considered as a serious defect, for besides the absence of contrast, either the narrow side-aisles appear too tall or the central one too low. This has also caused the defect of two storeys of windows being placed throughout in one height of wall, and without even a gallery to give meaning to such an arrangement. No French architect ever fell into such a mistake, and it shows how little the builders who could not avoid such a solecism understood the spirit of the style they were copying. The west front with its two spires is somewhat later in date, but of elegant design, and is pleasingly proportioned to the body of the church, which is rarely the case in Germany.
The other church is that at Altenberg, not far from Cologne, on the opposite side of the river Rhine. The foundation-stone was laid in 1255, and the chapels round the choir completed within a few years of that time, but the works were then interrupted, and the greater part of the church not built till the succeeding century. Like all the early churches of the Cistercian Order it is without towers, and is extremely simple in its outline and decorations. It is, in fact, almost a copy of the abbey of Pontigny (Woodcut No. 643), which was built fully a century earlier, and though it does show some advance in style in the introduction of tracery into the windows and more variety of outline externally, it is remarkable how little progress it evinces in the older parts. In the subsequent erection there are some noble windows filled with tracery of the very best class, which render this church the best counterpart Germany can produce of our Tintern Abbey, which it resembles in many respects. Indeed, taken altogether, this is perhaps the most satisfactory church of its age and style in Germany, and in the erection of which the fewest faults have been committed. It was rescued from ruin by Frederick William IV. of Prussia, but its extensive conventual buildings have been destroyed by fire.
These examples bring us to the great typical cathedral of Germany, that of Cologne, which is certainly one of the noblest temples ever erected by man in honour of his Creator. In this respect Germany has been more fortunate than either France or England; for though in the number of edifices in the pointed style and in beauty of design these countries are far superior, Germany alone possesses one pre-eminent example in which all the beauties of its style are united.
Generally speaking, it is assumed that the building we now see is that commenced by Conrad von Hochstetten in the year 1248, but more recent researches have proved that what he did was to rebuild or restore the double-apse cathedral of earlier date. The examples just quoted, however, were no other proof available, are sufficient to show that the Gothic style was hardly then introduced into Germany, and but very little understood when practised. It seems that the present building was begun about the year 1270-1275, and that the choir was completed in all essentials as we now find it by the year 1322.[75] Had the nave been completed at the same rate of progress, it would have shown a wide deviation of style, and the western front, instead of being erected according to the beautiful design preserved to us, would have been covered with stump tracery, and other vagaries of the late German school, all of which are even now observable in the part of the north-west tower actually erected. As the church is now complete according to the original design, one of its principal beauties is the uniformity of style that reigns throughout, contrasting strongly as it does with the greater number of Northern cathedrals, whose erection spreads over centuries. In dimensions it is the largest cathedral of Northern Europe; its extreme length being 468, its extreme breadth 275, and its superficies 91,464 ft., which is 20,000 ft. more than are covered by Amiens, and one-fourth more than Amiens was originally designed to cover. On comparing the eastern halves of these two from the centre of the intersection of the transept, it will be found that Cologne is an exact copy of the French cathedral, not only in general arrangement, but also in dimensions, the only difference being a few feet of extra length in the choir at Cologne, which is more than made up at Amiens by the projection of the Lady Chapel. The nave, too, at Cologne is one bay less in length. On the other hand, the German building exceeds the French by one additional bay in each transept, the two extra aisles in the nave, and the enormous substructures of the western towers. All these are decided faults of design into which no French architect would have fallen.
Looking at Cologne in any light, no one can fail to perceive that its principal defect is its relative shortness. If this was unavoidable at least the transept should have been omitted altogether, as at Bourges, or kept within the line of the walls, as at Paris, Rheims, and elsewhere. It is true, our long low English cathedrals require bold projecting transepts to relieve their monotony; but at Cologne their projection detracts both internally and externally from the requisite appearance of length. Indeed, this seems to have been suspected at the time, as the façades of the transepts were the least finished parts of the building when it was left, and the modern restorers would have done well if they had profited by the hesitation of their predecessors, and omitted an expensive and detrimental addition.
Another defect before alluded to is the double aisles of the nave. It is true these are found at Paris, but they were an early experiment. At Bourges the fault is avoided by the aisles being of different heights; but in none of the best examples, such as Rheims, Chartres, or Amiens, would the architects have been guilty of dispersing their effects or destroying their perspectives as is done at Cologne, and now that the whole of the interior is finished these defects of proportion are become more apparent than they were before. The clear width of the nave is 41 ft. 6 inches between the piers, its height 155 ft., or nearly four times the width—a proportion altogether intolerable in architecture. And this defect is made even more apparent here by the aisles being together equal in width to the nave, while they are only 60 ft. in height. Besides the defect of artistic disproportion, this exaggerated height of the interior has the further disadvantage of dwarfing to a painful extent the human beings who frequent it. Even the gorgeous ceremonial of the Catholic Church and their most crowded processions lose all their effect by comparison with the building in which they are performed. Were a regiment of Life Guards on horseback to ride down the central aisle at Cologne, they would be converted into pigmies by the 148 ft. of height above them. Lateral spaciousness has not the same dwarfing effect; when all are standing on the same floor, distance does not diminish in a building more than in the open air, and with that effect we are familiar, but great height in a room is unusual, and in proportion as it affects the mind with awe or astonishment does it diminish the appearance of those objects with which we are familiar. Perhaps, however, the most striking defect of the internal design is the want of repose or subordination of parts: 50 pillars practically identical in design, and spaced nearly equally over the floor, and beyond them everywhere a wall of glass. If the four central piers had been wider spaced, or of double the section they now are, or had there been any plain wall or any lateral chapels anywhere, it would have been better. Notwithstanding all these defects, it is a glorious temple; but so mathematically perfect, that not one little corner is left for poetry, and it is consequently felt to be infinitely less interesting than many buildings of far less pretensions.
Externally the proportions are as mistaken, if not more so than those of the interior; the mass and enormous height of the western towers (actually greater than the whole length of the building), now that they are completed, have given to the whole cathedral a look of shortness which nothing can redeem. With such a ground-plan a true architect would have reduced their mass one-half, and their height by one-third at least.[76]
Besides its great size, the cathedral of Cologne has the advantage of having been designed at exactly the best age; while, as before remarked, the cathedrals of Rheims and Paris were a little too early, St. Ouen’s too late. The choir of Cologne, which we have seen to be of almost identical dimensions with that of Amiens, excels its French rival internally by its glazed triforium, the exquisite tracery of the windows, the general beauty of the details, and a slightly better proportion between the height of the aisles and clerestory. But this advantage is lost externally by the forest of exaggerated pinnacles which crowd round the upper part of the building, not only in singular discord with the plainness of the lower storey, but hiding and confusing the perspective of the clerestory, in a manner as objectionable in a constructive point of view as it is to the eye of an artist. Decorated construction is, no doubt, the great secret of true architecture; but like other good things, this may be overdone. One-half of the abutting means here employed might have been dispensed with, and the other half disposed so simply as to do the work without the confusion produced. When we turn to the interior to see what the vault is, which this mass of abutments is provided to support, we find it with all the defects of French vaulting—the ribs few and weak, the ridge undulating, the surfaces twisted, and the general effect poor and feeble as compared with the gorgeous walls that support it. Very judicious painting might remedy this to some extent; but as it now stands the effect is most unpleasing.
The noblest as well as the most original part of the design of this cathedral is the western façade (Woodcut No. 747). As now completed, it rises to the height of 510 ft. This front, considered as an independent feature, without reference to its position, is a very grand conception. It equals in magnificence those designed for Strasburg and Louvain, and surpasses both in purity and elegance, though it is very questionable if the open work of the spires is not carried to far too great an extent, and even the lower part designed far too much by rule. M. Boisserée says, “the square and the triangle here reign supreme;” and this is certainly the case: every part is designed with the scale and the compasses, and with a mathematical precision perfectly astonishing: but we miss all the fanciful beauty of the more irregular French and English examples. The storeyed porches of Rheims, Chartres, and Wells comprise far more poetry within their limited dimensions than is spread over the whole surface of this gigantic frontispiece. Cologne is a noble conception of a mason, but these were the works of artists in the highest sense of the word.
It is certainly to be regretted that there is no contemporary French example to compare with Cologne, so that we might have been enabled to bring this to a clearer test than words can do. St. Ouen’s comes nearest to it in age and style, but it is so very much smaller as hardly to admit of comparison; for though the length of the two churches is nearly identical, the one covers 91,000 square feet, the other little more than half that, or only 47,000. Yet so judicious is the disposition of the smaller church, and so exquisite its proportions, that notwithstanding the late age of its nave, and the inappropriateness of its modern front, it is internally a more beautiful and almost as imposing a church as that of Cologne, and externally a far more pleasing study as a work of art. Had Marc d’Argent commenced his building at the same time as the builder of Cologne, and seen it completed, or had he left his design for it prior to 1322, even with its smaller dimensions, it would have been by far the nobler work of art of the two. These, however, are after all but vain speculations. We find in Cologne the finest specimen of masonry attempted in the Middle Ages; and notwithstanding its defects, we now see in the completed design a really beautiful and noble building, worthy of its builders and of the religion to which it is dedicated.
At Freiburg, in the Breisgau, there is a contemporary example, commenced in 1283, and finished in 1330. This fine spire is identical in style with the Cologne examples, and perhaps on the whole even better, certainly purer and simpler both in outline and detail, though it is not clear that the richer ornament of Cologne would not be more in accordance with this description of lace-work.
The total height of the spire at Freiburg is 385 ft. from the ground, and is divided into three parts. The lower portion is a square, plain and simple in its details, with bold prominent buttresses, and containing a very handsome porch. The second is an octagon of elegant design, with four triangular pinnacles or spirelets at the angles, which break most happily the change of outline, and out of this rises, somewhat abruptly, the spire, 155 ft. in height. An English architect would have placed eight bolder pinnacles at its base; a French one would have used a gallery, or taken some means to prevent the cone from merely resting on the octagon. This junction between the two is poor and badly managed; but after all, the question is, whether the open spire is not a mistake, which even the beauty of detail found here cannot altogether redeem. It is not sufficient to say it is wrong, because a spire is and ought to be a roof, and this is not. It is true a spire was originally a roof, and still retains the place of one, and should consequently suggest the idea; but this is not absolutely indispensable; and if the tower be insufficient to support the apparent weight of a solid spire, or for any such reason, the deviation would be excusable, but such is not the case here, nor at Cologne.
Indeed, it seems that the whole is only another exemplification of the ruling idea of the German masons, an excessive love of tours de force, and an inordinate desire to do clever things in stone, which soon led them into all the vagaries of their after Gothic; here it is comparatively inoffensive, though I still feel convinced that if one-half the openings of the tracery were filled up, or only a central trefoil or quatrefoil left open in each division, the effect would be far more pleasing and satisfactory.
In the spires that flank the transepts, the open work is wholly unobjectionable, owing to the smallness of the scale; but in the main and principal feature of the building the case is very different: dignity and majesty are there required; and the flimsiness, as it might almost be called, of the open work, goes far to destroy this.
The nave of this church is a fair specimen of the German Gothic of the age, being contemporary with the spire, or perhaps of a little earlier date; but the want of the triforium internally, and the consequent heavy mass of plain wall over the pier-arches, give it a poor and weak appearance. The choir, a work of the 15th century, runs into all the extravagance of the later German style; its only merits being its size and lightness.
Of the other open-work spires of Germany, one of the most beautiful is that of Thann in Alsace, in which the octagonal part is so light that anything more solid than the tracery that forms the spires would seem to crush it.
Besides these, there is a pleasing example at Esslingen; another attached to the cathedral at Meissen, in favour of which nothing can be said; and those adorning the two towers of the façade of the cathedral of Berne, which, because they are so small relatively to the towers they surmount, and are in fact mere ornaments, are pleasing and graceful terminations to the front.
Next in rank to Cologne among German cathedrals is that at Strasburg. It is, however, so much smaller as hardly to admit of a fair comparison, covering, even with its subsidiary adjuncts, little more than 60,000 square ft. The whole of the eastern part of this church belongs to an older basilica, built in the 11th and 12th centuries, and is by no means remarkable either for its beauty or its size, besides being so overpowered by the nave, which has been added to it, as to render its appearance somewhat insignificant. The nave and the western front are the glory and the boast of Alsace, and possess in a remarkable degree all the beauties and defects of the German style.
It is not known when the nave was commenced, but probably in the early half of the 13th century, and it seems to have been finished about the year 1275, a date which, if authentic, is in itself quite sufficient to settle the controversy as to whether any part of Cologne is of an earlier age, everything we see in Strasburg being of an older style than anything in that church.
Be this as it may, the details are pure and beautiful, and the design of singular boldness. The central aisle is 55 ft. wide from centre to centre of the piers, and the side aisles 33 ft. wide, while the corresponding dimensions at Cologne are only 49 ft. and 25 ft. respectively. Notwithstanding this, the vault at Strasburg is only 101 ft. in height against 155 ft. at Cologne. The consequence is, that measured from centre to centre the central aisle at Cologne is more than three times as high as it is wide, while at Strasburg it is less than twice. The whole width of the more northern example is practically equal to the height—at Strasburg it is one-fifth less; but the one having only three aisles, while the other has five, makes all these discrepancies still more apparent. Had the architect at Cologne, instead of introducing an external aisle, only increased the dimensions of Strasburg by one-fifth, retaining all its proportions, he would both externally and internally have produced the noblest building of the Middle Ages. As it is, the smaller nave of Strasburg is infinitely superior in proportion and apparent dimensions to that of the larger building.
This comparative lowness of the nave at Strasburg is greatly in its favour, as the length, which is only 250 ft., is made the most of, and the shortness of the cathedral is not perceived.
It does not appear that Erwin von Steinbach had anything to do with this part of the structure, beyond repairing the vault when damaged by fire in 1298, at which time he also introduced some new features of no great importance, but sufficient in some degree to confuse the chronology. What he really did, was to commence the western façade, of which he laid the foundation in 1277, and superintended the erection till his death, 41 years afterwards, when he was succeeded by his sons, who carried it up to the platform in 1365.
The Germans, however, wishing to find a name to place in their Walhalla, and mistaking entirely the system on which buildings were carried out in the Middle Ages, had tried to exalt Erwin into a genius of the highest order, ascribing to him not only the nave, but also the design of the spire as it now stands. If he had anything to do with the former, he must have been promoted at a singularly early age to the rank of master-mason, and have been a most wonderfully old man at the time of his death; and if he designed the spire, he must have had a strangely prophetic spirit to foresee forms and details that were not invented till a century after his death! The fact is, Erwin did no more than every master-mason of his age could do. There is no novelty or invention in his design, and only those mistakes and errors which all Germans fell into when working in pointed Gothic. In the first place, the façade is much too large for the church, which it crushes and hides; and instead of using the resources of his art to conceal this defect, he made the vault of the ante-chapel equal in height to that of Cologne, the result being that the centre of the great western rose-window is just as high as the apex of the vault of the nave. It is true it can be seen in perspective from the floor of the church, but the arrangement appears to have been expressly designed to make the church look low and out of proportion.
The spiral staircases at the angles of the spire are marvels of workmanship, and the whole is well calculated to excite the wonder of the vulgar, though it must be condemned by the man of taste as very inferior in every respect to the purer designs of an earlier age.
It is not known whether the original design comprised two towers, like those of the great French cathedrals, or was intended to terminate with a flat screen-like façade. Probably the latter was the case, as mass, and not proportion, seems to have been this architect’s idea of magnificence.
The spire that now crowns this front, rising to a height of 468 ft. from the ground, was not finished till 1439, and betrays all the faults of its age. The octagonal part is tall and weak in outline, the spire ungraceful in form and covered with an unmeaning and constructively useless system of tracery.
Besides the fault of proportion for which the design of Erwin is clearly blamable, all his work betrays the want of artistic feeling which is characteristic of the German mason. Every detail of the lower part of the front is wire-drawn and attenuated. The defect of putting a second line of unsymmetrical tracery in front of windows, the first trace of which was remarked upon in speaking of Gelnhausen, is here carried to a painful extent. The long stone bars which protect and hide the windows are admirable specimens of masonry, but they are no more beauties than those which protect our kitchen windows in modern times. The spreading the tracery of the windows over the neighbouring walls, so as to make it look large and uniform, is another solecism found both here and at Cologne, utterly unworthy of the art, and not found in, I believe, a single instance in France and England, where the style was so much better understood than in Germany.
Altogether the façade of the cathedral at Strasburg is imposing from its mass, and fascinating from its richness; but there is no building in either France or England where such great advantages have been thrown away in so reckless a manner and by so unintelligent a hand.
The cathedral at Ratisbon is a far more satisfactory specimen of German art than that of Strasburg. It is a small building, only 272 ft. in length, and 114 in breadth internally, and covering about 32,000 sq. ft. It was commenced in the year 1275; the works were continued for more than two centuries, and at last abandoned before the completion of the church.
As will be seen from the plan (Woodcut No. 751), it is much more German than French in its arrangements, having three apses instead of a chevet. The side-aisles are wide in proportion to the central one, the transept subdued, and altogether it is more like the old round-arched Gothic basilica than the French church. It has two storeys of windows in the apse, as at Marburg, where the arrangement is unmeaning and offensive, while here the nave has side-aisles and a clerestory: thus the upper windows of the apse are a continuation of the clerestory windows of the nave, and the effect is not unpleasing. The details of this church are singularly pleasing and elegant throughout, and produce on the whole a harmony not commonly met with in German churches of this age and style.
If size were any real test of beauty, the cathedral at Ulm ought to be one of the finest in Germany, being just twice as large as that at Ratisbon, covering 63,800 sq. ft. So far also as constructive merit is concerned, it is perhaps the best; for though I have no plan I can quite rely upon, I believe that not more than one-fifteenth of the area is occupied by the supports; nor is this church surpassed by many in sharp and clever mechanical execution of the details. With all this it would be difficult to find a colder and more unimpressive design than is here carried out; both internally and externally, it is the work of a very clever mason, but of a singularly bad artist. The freemasons had, when it was founded (1377), got possession of the art in Germany; and here they carried their system to its acmé, and with a result which every one with the smallest appreciation of art can perceive at once. It is said that, in the original design, the outer range of pillars, dividing the side-aisle into two, was to have been omitted, which would have made it even worse than it is. Its one western tower, now that it is completed, is perhaps more beautiful than that at Strasburg; and, besides, being actually higher (529 ft.), appears taller from standing alone. Its form, too, is more pleasing; and, though its details are far more suited for execution in cast iron than in stone, rivals, and perhaps even surpasses, those at Antwerp or Mechlin.
St. Stephen’s of Vienna (Woodcut No. 752), ranks fourth or fifth among the great churches of Germany, both for size and richness of decoration. Its length, internally, is 337 ft., its width 115, and it covers about 52,000 square ft. It is situated too near the eastern edge of the province for us to expect anything very pure or perfect as an example of Gothic art, and it certainly sins against every canon that a purist would enact. The three aisles are nearly equal in width and height,— there is no clerestory—no triforium. There are two very tall windows in each bay. The pillars are covered with sculpture, more remarkable for its richness than its appropriateness, and the tracery of the vaults is very defective. Yet, with all these faults, and many more, no one with a trace of poetry in his composition can stand under the great cavernous western porch and not feel that he has before him one of the most beautiful and impressive buildings in Europe. A good deal of this may be owing to the colour. The time-stain in the nave is untouched, the painted glass perfect, and the whole has a venerable look, now too rare. The choir is being smartened up, and its poetry is gone. Meanwhile, no building can stand in more absolute contrast with the cathedral at Cologne than this one at Vienna. The former fails because it is so coldly perfect that it interests no one; this impresses, though offending against all rules, because it was designed by a poet. We feel as if the Rhenish architect would certainly have been Senior Wrangler at Cambridge had he tried, but that his Danubian brother was fit to be Laureate at any court in Germany.
It is the same with the exterior. The one great roof running over the three aisles, and covering all up like an extinguisher, ought to be abominable, but it gives a character to the whole that one would be sorry to miss, and is not out of harmony with the exceptional character of the whole building. The great glory of this church consists in its two spires, one of which is finished, the other only carried up to about one-third of its intended height. Their position is unfortunate, as they are placed where the transepts should be, so that they neither form a façade nor dignify the sanctuary; they occupy, in fact, the position of the lateral entrances which the Germans were so fond of, and are the principal portals of the building. In itself, however, the finished spire is the richest, and, excepting that at Freiburg, perhaps the most beautiful of all those in Germany. Its total height, exclusive of the eagle, is 441 ft., rising from a base about 64 ft. square, gradually sloping from the ground to the summit, where it forms a cone of the unprecedently small angle of little more than 9 degrees. The transition from the square base to an octagonal cone is so gradual and so concealed by ornament, that it is difficult to say where the tower ends and the spire begins. This gives a confusion and weakness to the design by no means pleasing. Indeed the whole may be taken as an exemplification of all the German principles of design carried to excess, rather than as a perfect example of what such an object should be. It deserves to be remarked that there is no open work in the spire, though, from its own tenuity and the richness of the tower, there is no example where it would have been less objectionable.
Had the architects of Eastern Germany continued to practise the style a little longer before the introduction of the Renaissance art, it is probable they would have gone further from the French forms than they did even in St. Stephen’s. Among the novelties they did employ, one of the most remarkable was the invention of flat-roofed choirs. The plan of the Franciscan church at Salzburg (Woodcut No. 753) will explain what is meant by this.[77] The nave of the church is a very beautiful example of the round-arched style, so pure and elegant in its details as to betray its proximity to Italy, and without a trace of pointed architecture, though dating as late as 1230-1260. In the year 1470 it was determined to rebuild the choir. In France this would have been effected by an extended range of chapels round a chevet; in England by several bays added to the length. In Germany they did better: they placed five slender piers on the floor: these, though 70 ft. in height, are less than 4 ft. in diameter, yet they appear sufficient for the task they have to perform, while their slenderness prevents them from interrupting the view in any direction. From these rose a vault, extending on the same level from wall to wall with a tree-like growth, from each of these pillars—without any exertion or constructive difficulty; the choir thus forms a hall 66 ft. wide by 160 in length, exclusive of the side-chapels which surround it in two storeys. A dome in that position might have been more sublime; but passing through the confined vestibule of the nave the expansion into the light and airy choir produces one of the most magical effects to be found in any church in Europe. The details of the vault, as is only too usual at that age, are not constructively correct; but if this design had been carried out with English fan-tracery nothing could well be more beautiful. In plan and dimensions this choir very nearly resembles Henry VII.’s Chapel at Westminster; but in design the German surpasses the English example to a greater extent than it falls short of it in beauty of detail.
St. Lawrence’s Church at Nuremberg is a larger and better known example of the same class of design. It was commenced in 1275, and finished after 202 years’ labour. The style of this church is consequently much more uniform; and though not large, being only 300 ft. long by 100 in width, its proportions are so good that it is a very beautiful and impressive example of the style. It is a little too late in its details, but beautiful in its arrangements. The view, standing by the pulpit and looking towards the east, is as poetic as that of St. Stephen’s, and as spacious as at Salzburg. The two rows of windows round the apse are a defect that might easily have been avoided, but which the beauty of the painted glass goes far to redeem.
Externally, the western front, though on a small scale, only 250 ft. in height, is better proportioned and more pleasing in its detail than almost any other double-spire façade in Germany that can be named. The real defect of the exterior is the overwhelming roof of the nave and the want of external buttresses, which, with bold pinnacles, would have gone far to correct its heaviness.
St. Sebald’s Church at Nuremberg seems originally to have been a chevet turned the wrong way, to the eastern end of which a choir of somewhat exaggerated dimensions was added at a later age (1303-1377). This choir was not only placed unsymmetrically as regards the axis of the older part, but also as regards its own parts. It is, however, lofty and airy, with the same arrangement as to vaulting as the two last examples, but, being lighted by a single row of tall windows, it avoids the defect of the two-storeyed arrangement. These windows are 50 ft. high, and barely 8 ft. in width, which is far too narrow in proportion. Their mullions are nearly 40 ft. in height; and, though triumphs of German masonic skill, are most unpleasing features of architectural design.
When the Germans had once mastered this invention in vaulting they applied it wherever an opportunity presented itself, and in one instance at least, to a five-aisled basilica. It is true the church of St. Barbara at Kuttenberg,[78] in Bohemia, is only a fragment, but it is a very remarkable one. The building was apparently commenced about the year 1358, and completed, as far as we now see it, in 1548. Its dimensions are smaller than those of Cologne, being only 126 ft. across its five aisles instead of 150; but its great peculiarity is that the roof of the first aisle next the central one on each side is converted into a great gallery, as shown in the section (Woodcut No. 756), and the vault carried flat above the three. To a certain extent this prevents the clerestory windows from being so easily seen from all parts of the floor of the church, but when seen it is at a better angle; and, altogether, a play of light and shade and a poetry of effect is introduced which more than compensates for this. The double apse may be the most characteristic feature of German Mediæval churches, but this seems to be the highest and most poetic of their inventions.
The church of St. Veit at Prague is very similar to that at Kuttenberg. It was commenced about the year 1346, and, like it, was meant to imitate and rival Cologne. Its proportions, however, are better, being only 105 ft. high, internally, with a width of 130 ft., but its details, as might be expected from its date, are very far inferior to those of its northern rival. Like Kuttenberg, it is now only a choir—a fragment of what was intended; and it neither possesses the poetry of its Bohemian rival, nor the perfect masonry of Cologne, and perhaps more resembles Beauvais than any other church of its age.
In Bavaria there are several churches erected later in the style, which, in spite of many defects of detail, are still very imposing edifices. The cathedral at Munich is a well-known example of this style, but a better specimen is the St. Martin’s church at Landshut (1404). As in almost all these examples, the three aisles are the same height, and outside are covered by one gigantic roof. Internally this gives great spaciousness, but externally the exaggerated height of the windows and the size of the roof are great defects. The most beautiful feature at Landshut is the spire, which rises to the height of 425 ft., and is as gracefully and appropriately designed as any other which has been completed in Germany of its age. Though not so rich as St. Stephen’s at Vienna, it has not its confusion of outline, and it also avoids the somewhat ambiguous beauties of the open-work spires so frequent in this country.
In adopting the pointed-arched style, the Germans generally abandoned their favourite double-apse arrangement; and though they seldom adopted the whole of the chevet, preferring their own simple apse to it, it seems to have been only, or at least generally, where an old round Gothic double-apse church existed previously, that this arrangement was continued after the commencement of the 13th century. Naumburg, the nave of which was commenced about the year 1200, is an instance of this. This was no doubt inserted between two older apses, both of which were rebuilt at a later age, forming two very beautiful and extensive choirs. The whole makes a very pleasing and interesting church, though there certainly is an architectural incongruity in entering by the side, and the double-apse arrangement is unfamiliar and nearly unintelligible to us at the present time.
A still better example is the cathedral at Bamberg, which, judging from its date, ought to be in the complete pointed style. Though its east end dates from 1220, and the west 1257, it is still so completely transitional, and the pointed form so timidly used, that in France it would certainly be said that there was a mistake of at least a century in these dates. It is nevertheless a very fine church; and its four elegant towers flanking the two apses give it a local and at the same time a dignified character which we often miss in the imitations of French churches, too common at this age. At Naumburg unfortunately only three towers exist, the fourth never having been erected, which considerably mars the effect when comparing it with the more complete edifice at Bamberg.
Augsburg is another example of this class; although of good age, the rebuilding having commenced in 1366, it is one of the ugliest and worst-designed buildings in Germany, with nothing but its size to redeem it. It is peculiar in having a chevet at one end and an apse at the other.
The principles of the French schools of art seem to have prevailed to a much greater extent in the North of Germany, and we have in consequence several churches of more pleasing design than those last mentioned. Among these is the cathedral at Halberstadt, a simple but beautiful church, not remarkable for any very striking peculiarities, but extremely satisfactory in general effect. The great church, too, at Xanten may be quoted as another very favourable specimen, though far more essentially German in its arrangement. The western front is older than the rest, and is German, wholly without French influence. It has no central entrance, but has two bold massive towers. The church behind these is of the latter part of the 13th and the 14th centuries. It is generally good in detail and proportion, but is arranged, as seen in the plan, in a manner wholly different from the French method, though in a form common in all parts of Germany. The polygonal form is retained both for the apse and for the chapels, but without adopting the chevet with its surrounding aisle, nor the absolute seclusion of the choir as a priestly island round which the laity might circulate, but within whose sacred precincts they were not permitted to enter. It is observable that in those districts where chevets are most frequent, generally speaking, the Catholic religion has had the firmest hold. On the other hand, where the people had declined to adopt that arrangement, it was a sign that they were ripe for the Reformation, which accordingly they embraced as soon as the standard of rebellion was raised.
In the South of Germany we have already had occasion to remark on the tendency to raise the side-aisles to the same height as the central one, which eventually became the rule in the great brick churches of Munich and other parts of Bavaria, the piers or pillars becoming mere posts supporting what was practically a horizontal roof. In the north the tendency seems to have been the other way—to exaggerate the clerestory at the expense of the aisles. A notable example of this is found in the nave at Magdeburg, where the side-aisles are practically little more than one-third of the whole height of the church; and there being no triforium, the clerestory windows rest apparently on the vault of the side-aisle. This has now no doubt a disagreeable effect, but when filled with painted glass the case must have been different, and the effect of this immense screen of brilliant colours must have been most beautiful.
A better example of this arrangement is found in the cathedral at Metz, where, from its proximity to France, the whole style was better understood, and the details are consequently more perfect. Externally, it must be confessed, the immense height of the clerestory gives to the church a wire-drawn appearance, very destructive of architectural beauty; but internally, partly from the effect of perspective and partly from the brilliancy of such glass as remains, criticism is disarmed. The result, however contrary to the rules of art, is most fascinating; and at all events, though an error, it is in a far more pleasing direction than that of the southern architects.
These may perhaps be considered the great and typical examples of the pointed style as applied to church architecture in Germany; but besides these there are numerous examples scattered all over the country, many of which, as being less directly under French influence, display an originality of design, and sometimes a beauty, not to be found in the larger examples.
Among these is the Cathedral of St. George at Limburg on the Lahn. This building belongs to the early part of the 13th century, and exhibits the transitional style in its greatest purity, and with less admixture of foreign taste than is to be found in almost any subsequent examples. Though measuring only about 180 ft. by 75, it has, from its crown of towers and general design, a more imposing appearance externally than many buildings of far larger dimensions. The interior is also singularly impressive.
The church of St. Emmeran at Ratisbon, a square building of about the same age and style, is chiefly remarkable for the extensive series of galleries which surround the whole of the interior, being in fact the application of the system of double chapels (see p. 241) to a parish church; not that vaulted galleries are at all rare in Germany, but that generally speaking they are insertions; though here they seem part of the original design.
At Schulpforta in Saxony there is a very elegant church of the best age, and both in design and detail very different from anything else in Germany. Its immense relative length gives it a perspective rarely found in this country, where squareness is a much more common characteristic.
At Oppenheim, in the Bavarian Rhenish Palatinate, is a church the choir of which is a simple and pleasing German apse with elongated windows. The nave, four bays in length, is an elaborate specimen of German ornamentation in its utmost extravagance, and, considering its age, in singularly bad taste, at least the lower part. The clerestory is unobjectionable, but the tracery of the windows and walls of the side-aisles shows how ingeniously it was possible to misapply even the beautiful details of the early part of the 14th century. In St. Werner’s Chapel, Bacharach, on the Rhine, this is avoided, and, as far as can be judged from the fragment that remains, it must, if it ever was completed, have been one of the best specimens of German art in that part of the country. The nave of the cathedral at Meissen, though marked by many of the faults of German design, is still a beautiful example of well-understood detail.
As a purely German design nothing can surpass the Maria Kirche at Mühlhausen (Woodcut No. 759). The nave is nearly square, 87 ft. by 105, and is divided into five aisles by four rows of pillars supporting the vaults, all at the same level. To the west is a triple frontispiece, and to the east (Woodcut No. 759) the three apses, which form so favourite an arrangement with the Germans. Externally its attenuation is painful to one accustomed to the more sober work of French architects; but this fault is here not carried to anything like the excess found in other churches. Internally the effect is certainly pleasing, and altogether there are perhaps few better specimens of purely German design in pointed architecture. The church of St. Blasius, in the same town, is far from being so good an example of the style.
The cathedral at Erfurt is a highly ornamented building, but though possessing beautiful details in parts, yet it shows the slenderness of construction which is so frequent a fault in German Gothic buildings. The church of St. Severus in the same town resembles that at Mühlhausen, but possesses so characteristic a group of three spires[79] over what we would consider the transept—or just in front of the apse—that it is illustrated (Woodcut No. 760). It certainly looks like a direct lineal descendant from the old Roman basilican apse grown into Gothic tallness. Though common in Germany, placed either here or at the west front, I do not know of any single example of such an arrangement either in France or England.
To the same class of square churches with slightly projecting chancels belongs the Frauen Kirche at Nuremberg, one of the most ornate of its kind, and possessing also in its triangularly formed porch another peculiarity found only in Germany. The principal entrances to the cathedrals of Ratisbon and Erfurt are of this description—the latter being the richest and boldest porch of the kind.
One of the best known examples of the daring degree of attenuation to which the Germans delighted to carry their works is the choir (Woodcut No. 724) added in 1353 and 1413 to the old circular church of Charlemagne at Aix-la-Chapelle. As we now see it, the effect is certainly unpleasing; but if these tall windows were filled with painted glass, and the walls and vaults coloured also, the effect would be widely different. Perhaps it might then be even called beautiful; but with scarcely a single exception all those churches are now deprived of this most indispensable part of their architecture, and, instead of being the principal part of the design, the windows are now only long slits in the masonry, giving an appearance of weakness without adding to the beauty or richness of the ornament.
The same remarks apply to the Nicholai Kirche at Zerbst, and the Petri Kirche at Gorlitz, both splendid specimens of this late exaggerated class of German art. By colour they might be restored, but as seen now in the full glare of the cold daylight they want almost every requisite of true art, and neither their size nor their constructive skill suffices to redeem them from the reproach.
VI. CONTENTS
Circular Churches—Church Furniture—Civil Architecture.
CIRCULAR CHURCHES.
IN adopting the pointed style, the Germans almost wholly abandoned their old favourite circular form; the Liebfrauen Church at Trèves (Woodcut No. 695) being almost the only really important example of a church in the style approaching to a rotunda. Chapter-houses are as rare in Germany as in France, and those that are found are not generally circular in either country. There is a baptistery attached to the cathedral at Meissen, and one or two other insignificant examples elsewhere; but the most pleasing object of this class is the Anna Chapel, attached to the principal church at Heiligenstadt. It is said that it always was dedicated to the sainted mother of the Virgin, but it would require more than tradition to prove that it was not originally designed as a baptistery or a tomb-house. Be this as it may, it is one of the most pleasing specimens of its class anywhere to be found, and so elegant as to make us regret the rarity of such structures.
CHURCH FURNITURE.
The churches of Germany are not generally rich in architectural furniture. Few rood-lofts are found spanning from pillar to pillar of the choir like that at the Madeleine of Troyes (Woodcut No. 669); and though some of the screens that separate the choirs of the churches are rich, they are seldom of good design. The two at Naumburg are perhaps as good as any of their class in Germany. Generally they were used as the lectorium—virtually the pulpit—of the churches. In most instances, however, the detached pulpit in the nave was substituted for these, and there are numerous examples of richly-carved pulpits, but none of beautiful design. In most instances they are overloaded with ornament, and many of them disfigured with quirks and quibbles, and all the vagaries of later German art.
The fonts are seldom good or deserving of attention, and the original altars have almost all been removed, either from having fallen to decay, or to make way for some more favourite arrangement of modern times.
The “Sacraments Häuschen” (the receptacle for the sacred elements of the Communion) is a peculiar article of furniture frequently found in German churches, and in some of those of Belgium, though very rare in France and unknown in England, but on which the German artists seem to have lavished more pains than on almost any other article of church decoration. Those in St. Lawrence’s Church at Nuremberg and at Ulm are perhaps the most extraordinary pieces of elaborate architecture ever executed in stone, and have always been looked on by the Germans as chefs-d’œuvre of art. Had they been able, they would have delighted in introducing the same extravagances into external art: fortunately the elements forced them to confine them to their interiors. Nothing, however, can show more clearly what was the tendency of their art, and to what they aspired, than these singular erections, which, notwithstanding their absurdity, considering their materials, must excite our wonder, like the concentric balls of the Chinese. To some extent also they claim our admiration for the lightness and the elegance of their structure. Simplicity is not the characteristic of the German mind. A difficulty conquered is what it glories in, and patient toil is not a means only, but an end, and its expression often excites in Germany more admiration than either loftier or purer art.
It can scarcely be doubted but that much of the extravagance which we find in later German architecture arose from the reaction of the glass-painters on the builders. When first painted glass was extensively introduced, the figures were grouped or separated by architectural details, such as niches or canopies, copied literally from the stone ornaments of the building itself. Before long, however, the painter, in Germany at least, spurned at being tied down to copy such mechanical and constructive exigencies; he attenuated his columns, bent and twisted his pinnacles, drew out his canopies, and soon invented for himself an architecture bearing the same relation to the stone Gothic around him that the architecture shown on the paintings of Pompeii bears to the temples and buildings from which it is derived. In Germany, painters and builders alike were striving after lightness, but in this the painter was enabled by his material easily to outstrip the mason. The essentially stone character of architecture was soon lost sight of. With the painter, the finials, the crockets, and the foliage of the capitals again became copies of leaves, instead of the conventional representations of nature which they are and must be in all true art. Like Sir James Hall in modern times, the speculative mind in Germany was not long, when advanced thus far, in suggesting a vegetable theory for the whole art. All these steps are easily to be traced in the sequence of German painted glass still preserved to us. The more extravagant and intricate the design, the more it was admired by the Germans. It was, therefore, only natural that the masons should strive after the same standard, and should try to realise in stone the ideas which the painters had so successfully started on the plain surface of the glass. The difficulty of the task was an incentive. Almost all the absurdities of the later styles may be traced more or less to this source, and were it worth while, or were this the place, it would be easy to trace the gradual decay of true art from this cause. One example, taken from the church at Chemnitz (Woodcut No. 763), must suffice, where what was usual, perhaps admissible, in glass, is represented in stone as literally as is conceivable. When art came to this, its revival was impossible among a people with whom such absurdities could be admired, as their frequency proves to have been the case. What a fall does all this show in that people who invented the old Round-Gothic style of the Rhenish and Lombard churches, which still excite our admiration, as much from the simple majesty of their details as from the imposing grandeur of their whole design!
CIVIL ARCHITECTURE.
If the Germans failed in adapting the pointed style of architecture to the simple forms and purposes of ecclesiastical buildings, they were still less likely to be successful when dealing with the more complicated arrangements of civil buildings. It is seldom difficult to impart a certain amount of architectural character and magnificence to a single hall, especially when the dimensions are considerable, the materials good, and a certain amount of decoration admitted; but in grouping together as a whole a number of small apartments, to be applied to various uses, it requires great judgment to ensure that every part shall express its own purpose, and good taste to prevent the whole degenerating into a mere collection of disjointed fragments. These qualities the Germans of that age did not possess. Moreover, there seems to have been singularly little demand for civil edifices in the 13th and 14th centuries. It is probable that the free cities were not organised to the same extent as in Belgium, or had not the same amount of manufacturing industry that gave rise to the erection of the great halls in that country; for, with the exception of the Kauf Haus at Mayence, no example has come down to our days that can be said to be remarkable for architectural design. Even this no longer exists, having been pulled down in 1812. It was but a small building, 125 ft. in length by 92 in width at one end, and 75 at the other. It was built in the best time of German pointed architecture, and was a pleasing specimen of its class. At Cologne there is a sort of Guildhall, the Gürzenich, and a tower-like fragment of a town-hall, both built in the best age of architecture; and in some of the other Rhenish towns there are fragments of art more or less beautiful according to the age of their details, but none that will bear comparison with the Belgian edifices of the same class.
Some of the castles in which the feudal aristocracy of the day resided are certainly fine and picturesque buildings, but they are seldom remarkable for architectural beauty either of design or detail. The same remarks apply to the domestic residences. Many of the old high-gabled houses in the streets are most elaborately ornamented, and produce picturesque combinations in themselves and with one another; but as works of art, few have any claims to notice, and neither in form nor detail are they worthy of admiration.
Among more miscellaneous monuments may be named the weigh-tower at Andernach, with its immense crane, showing how any object may be made architectural if designed with taste. The Schöne Brunnen, or “Beautiful Fountains,” in the market-place at Nuremberg, is one of the most unexceptionable pieces of German design in existence. It much resembles the contemporary crosses erected by our Edward I. to the memory of his beloved queen Eleanor, but it is larger and taller, the sculpture better, and better disposed, and the whole design perhaps unrivalled among monuments of its class. The lightness of the upper part and the breadth of the basin at its base give an appearance of stability which contributes greatly to its effect.
Scarcely less elegant than this is the cross or “Todtenleuchter,” Lanterne des Morts, in the cemetery of Kloster Neuberg, near Vienna. Its height is about 30 ft.; the date engraved upon it is 1381. There is a small door at a height of about 5 ft. from the ground, and near the summit a chamber with six glazed windows, in which the light was exhibited.
In France, some ten or twelve of these lanterns have recently been brought to light and described. In Germany about as many, besides numberless little niches in which lamps were placed in churches, showing a prevalence in Christian countries of a custom which now only prevails among Mahomedans, of placing lights at night in the tombs of saints or of relatives, so long as their memory is preserved. Perhaps, however, the greatest point of interest attached to their investigation arises from the light these foreign examples may be expected to throw on the origin of the Round Towers in Ireland. Their form is not unlike this at Kloster Neuberg. Their destination seems the same, though the dimensions of the Irish towers are greatly in excess of any similar monuments found on the continent of Europe.[80]
In the town of Nuremberg are several houses presenting very elegant specimens of art in their details, though few that now at least afford examples of complete designs worthy of attention. The two parsonages or residences attached to the churches of St. Sebald and St. Lawrence are among the best. The bay window (Woodcut No. 766) from the façade of the former is as pleasing a feature as is to be found of its class in any part of Germany.
A more characteristic specimen, however, is to be seen at Brück on the Mur, in Styria, where there still exists a large house, the front of which is ornamented with a verandah in several bays, one of which is represented in the annexed woodcut No. 767. It is in two storeys, the upper containing twice the number of openings of the lower. The whole design is singularly elegant, but betrays the lateness of the date (1505) in every detail; and, more than this, exhibits those peculiarly German features which are so characteristic of the later Gothic in that country. In the lower storey, for instance, the ogee arch instead of being filled up with a decorative piece of construction, is made circular by a plain piece of stone, which completes the construction but violates the decoration. Above this we have a balustrade in stone, imitating wood in a manner the Germans were so fond of, but which is certainly wrong in principle, as it is in taste; but notwithstanding these defects, we cannot but regret that more examples of the same class have not come down to our time.
The town-hall at Brunswick (Woodcut No. 768) is one of the most picturesque and characteristic of these buildings, and perhaps also the most artistic. It is difficult, however, to reconcile our feelings to the light arch supporting the tracery of the upper part of the upper gallery. If the four mullions had been brought down, they would not have impeded either light or air to an appreciable extent, and if more space had been wanted for addressing people in the platz, the omission of the central mullion would have sufficed. Notwithstanding this, it is a picturesque and appropriate building, more so than any other known out of the Flandrian province. The fountain, too, on the right hand of the cut, is a pleasing specimen of its class; a little heavier at the base than quite comports with the style, though that is a fault quite on the right side.
It is true that in all countries the specimens of domestic art are, from obvious causes, more liable to alteration and destruction than works of a more monumental class. Making every allowance for this, Germany still seems more deficient than its neighbouring countries in domestic architecture in the pointed style, and one can hardly escape the conviction that this form was never thoroughly adopted by the people of this country, and that it therefore, never having had much hold on their feelings or taste, died out early, leaving only some wonderful specimens of masonic skill in the more monumental buildings, but very few evidences of true art or of sound knowledge of the true principles of architectural effect.
VII. NORTHERN GERMANY
(BALTIC PROVINCES.)
BRICK ARCHITECTURE.
CONTENTS.
Churches at Lubeck—in Brandenburg—in Ermenland—Castle at Marienburg.
ALONG the whole of the southern shores of the Baltic extends a vast series of sandy plains, now composing the greater part of the kingdom of Prussia, with Hanover and Mecklenburg and the duchies of Brandenburg and Brunswick. This district was to a considerable extent cultivated during the Middle Ages, and contained several cities of great commercial and political importance, which still retain many of their ecclesiastical and civil buildings.
These plains are almost wholly destitute of any stone suitable for building purposes, and brick has alone been employed in the erection not only of their houses, but of their churches and most monumental buildings. This circumstance has induced such a variation in the character of the architecture as to justify the Baltic provinces being treated separately. The differences which are apparent may also be owing to some extent to ethnographic differences of race, though it is not easy to say how much may be owing to this cause. In early Christian times the whole province was inhabited by the Wends, a race of Sclavonic stock; they have been superseded by the Teutonic races and their language has disappeared, but their blood must still remain, and a knowledge of this fact would at once account to an ethnologist for the absence of art. A Teutonic race, based on a Celtic substratum, would have wrought beauty out of bricks, and the constructive difficulties would not have prevented the development of the art. But a Teutonic formation overlying a Sclavonic base is about as unfortunate a combination for architectural development as can well be conceived. This, added to the deficiency of stone as a building material, will more than suffice to account for the special treatment we meet with on the southern shores of the Baltic.
It is true that in the hands of a refined and art-loving people like the inhabitants of the north of Italy, brick architecture may be made to possess a considerable amount of beauty. Burnt clay may be moulded into shapes as elegant, and as artistic as can be carved in stone; and the various colours which it is easy to impart to bricks may be used to form mosaics of the most beautiful patterns; but to carry out all this with success requires a genuine love of art, and an energy in the prosecution of it, which will not easily be satisfied. Without this the facilities of brick architecture are such that it can be executed by the commonest workman, and is best done in the least artistic forms. While this is the case, it requires a very strong feeling for art to induce anyone to bestow thought where it is not needed, and to interrupt construction to seek for forms of beauty. In brick architecture, the best walls are those with the fewest breaks and projections, so that if relief and shadow are to be obtained, they must be added for their own sake; and more than this, walls may be built so thin that they must always appear weak as compared with stone walls, and depth of relief becomes almost impossible.
Another defect is, that a brick building almost inevitably suggests a plaster finishing internally; and every one knows how easy it is to repeat by casting the same ornaments over and over again, and to apply such ornaments anywhere and in any way without the least reference to construction or propriety.
All these temptations may of course be avoided. They were so at Granada by the Saracens, who loved art for its own sake. They were to a considerable extent avoided in the valley of the Po, though by a people far less essentially art-loving than the Moors. But it will easily be supposed that this taste and perception of beauty exerted less influence in the valley of the Elbe. There the public buildings were raised as simply as the necessities of construction would allow, and ornaments were applied only to the extent absolutely requisite to save them from absolute plainness. Thus the churches represent in size the wealth and population of the cities, and were built in the style of Gothic architecture which prevailed at the time of their erection; but it is in vain to look in them for any of the beauties of the stone Gothic buildings of the same period, though the variety which they gave to their moulded brickwork, and the dexterity with which they treated it, imparted a character to it which is not without its interest.
The principal group of churches in the district is found at Lubeck, which was perhaps, in the Middle Ages, the wealthiest town on the shores of the Baltic. The largest of these is the Dom Kirche or Cathedral (Woodcut No. 769), a building 427 ft. long over all. The nave is 120 ft. wide externally. The vaults of the three aisles spring from the same height, the central one being 70 ft. high, those of the side-aisles a little less. This, with the wide spacing of the piers, gives a poor and bare look to the interior. The choir is better, showing a certain amount of variety about the chevet; but even this is leaner than in any stone building, and displays all the poverty so characteristic of the style.
The Marien Kirche is a more favourable specimen of its class, though not so large. It is of a somewhat earlier age, and is built more in accordance with the principles of Gothic design. The central aisle is 130 ft. high; the side-aisles only half as much. This allows space for a very splendid clerestory, which, if filled with stained glass, would redeem the flatness of the mouldings and the general poverty of the architecture of the interior.
The church of St. Catherine is smaller than either of these, though of about the same age as that last mentioned, and of as good a design. It possesses the somewhat curious peculiarity of having a double choir one above the other like that of St. Gereon at Cologne (Woodcut No. 740), but more complete and extensive than in that example. The whole of the lower choir is vaulted over, and a second, at a height of 20 ft., forms an upper choir over its whole extent.
There are several smaller churches in Lubeck, none of which show any peculiarities not found in the larger. The same faults which characterise the interior of these churches are also found in the exterior. The Marien Kirche (Woodcut No. 771) is the best of them in this respect, but though its outline is good, it is far from being a pleasing specimen of architecture. Its two western towers are of the form typical in Lubeck. They are just 400 English ft. in height, and with these dimensions ought to be imposing objects, but they certainly are not so, being in fact as bad specimens as could be of Gothic towers.
As usual in Germany, there is no door at the west end of any of these churches, and the principal entrances are in all cases lateral; one of those attached to the cathedral is an elaborate and beautiful piece of stone architecture, but it is the only one apparently that is at all remarkable.
Some of the rood-screens are covered with carving, and the tabernacles, or receptacles for the holy elements, are, as in most parts of Germany, elaborately ornamented. They are nearly of the same age and of the same style as those at Nuremberg, one of which is represented in Woodcut No. 762.
Dantzic possesses several large churches very similar, both in style and arrangement, to those of Lubeck. The principal of these is the cathedral, or Marien Kirche, commenced in its present form in 1343, and completed in the year 1502. It is 316 ft. long and 105 in width, with a transept extending to 206 ft. The whole area of the church is about 42,000 sq. ft., so that though not among the largest, it may still be considered as a first-class church; and, being of a good age, it is as effective in design as any of the brick churches of the province. It has one tower at the west end 230 ft. in height.
The church of St. Catherine is in part older than the cathedral, having been founded in 1185, though it was to a great extent rebuilt at a subsequent period. Its dimensions as it now stands are 210 ft. long, and 120 ft. wide over all. Neither it nor any of the other churches of the town seem to have any remarkable feature of design or construction worthy of being alluded to.
Other churches of less importance but of similar style are found in the Marien Kirche and St. Nicolas at Stralsund; in the Marien Kirche at Stargard, which has its west front richly ornamented with moulded-brick tracery; in the churches of Wismar, in the Marien Kirche at Prenzlau, where the west gable is the most elaborate in North Germany, and in other churches in Neu-Brandenburg, Anclam, and other towns.
The form of church tower found in Lüneberg, and indeed generally in the district, is a modification of that at Paderborn (Woodcut No. 706), and is well exemplified by that in the Kœblinger Strasse at Hanover (Woodcut No. 772). It is an honest and purpose-like piece of architecture, but without much pretension to beauty of design.
Further east in Ermeland, as Eastern Prussia used to be called, there are many brick buildings, which from their picturesqueness and the appropriateness of their form half disarm the critic. Among these, for instance, such a church as that of Frauenburg (Woodcut No. 773), with its light graceful spires and its brick tracery in its gables, is an object, if not of grandeur, at least of considerable beauty in itself, and in this instance is grouped with so many others as to form a more picturesque combination than is usually to be met with on the shores of the Baltic. The church itself is 300 ft. long by 80 in width, and has three aisles in the nave, of equal height but unequal width. Its worst defect is in the plainness and bulk of the octagonal piers which support the vault.
The next illustration, of the church at Santoppen (Woodcut No. 774) is of a type infinitely more common in Ermeland. In Quast’s work[81] are some dozen churches varying only slightly from this in design, but in many the western tower is more like a many-storeyed warehouse than a building designed either for ornament or any church-like use. They all, however, possess some character and charm from their novelty, being very unlike anything found elsewhere.
The Marien Church at Brandenburg (Woodcut No. 775) exhibits this style carried to an excess which renders it almost bizarre. The lower part is unobjectionable, the ornament around the doors and under the windows being appropriate and well placed; but the windows themselves are too plain even in this style, and above this the ornament is neither constructive nor elegant. The building might be either a dwelling or a civil building, or anything else, as well as a church, and it is difficult to find on what principle the design is varied or arranged. In true Art the motive is apparent at a glance, and should always be so.
At Hamburg, fires, and the improvements consequent on modern activity and prosperity, have nearly obliterated all the more important buildings which at one time adorned that city.
At Königsberg, at the opposite extremity of the district, there seems to be little that is remarkable, except a cathedral, possessing an enormous façade of brickwork, adorned with blank arches, but without the smallest pretensions to beauty, either internally or externally.
CIVIL BUILDINGS.
The most remarkable among the civil buildings of the province is the castle at Marienburg, which was for nearly a century and a half the residence of the masters of the once powerful knights of the Teutonic order. The Alte Schloss was built in 1276, the middle castle in 1309; so that it belongs to the best age of Gothic art: and, being half palace, half castle, ought to possess both dignity and grandeur. It betrays, however, in every part the faults of brick architecture in this province, and though curious, is certainly not beautiful. All the windows are square-headed, though filled with tracery, and the vaultings of the principal apartments are without grace in themselves, and do not fit the lines of the openings; even the boldly projecting machicolations, which in stone architecture give generally such dignity to castellated buildings, here fail in producing that effect, from the tenuity of the parts and the weakness of their apparent supports.
The town-hall at Lubeck is imposing from its size, and singular from the attempt to gain height and grandeur by carrying up the main wall of the building high above the roof, and where no utilitarian purpose can be suggested for it. Indeed there are few towns in the province that do not possess some large civic buildings, but in all instances these are less artistic than the churches themselves; and, though imposing from their mass and interesting from their age, they are hardly worthy of notice as examples of architectural art.
The town of Lüneburg retains not only its public buildings, but its street architecture, nearly as left from the Middle Ages; and its quaint gables and strange towers and spires give it a character that is picturesque and interesting, but cannot be said to be beautiful.
The town-halls of Tangermünde, Rostock, and Stralsund, have façades of similar style to that of Lubeck. In all these cases as a rule these façades are mere decorative screens, which, like the churches in Italy, rise high above the roofs of the main building. The Rathhaus at Stralsund is surmounted by six lofty gables with large circular openings in them open to the sky, so that there is no attempt at concealment, the fact probably being that, proud of their dexterity in the moulding of the brickwork, and repetition being easy and inexpensive, they were not content with the small elevation which the height of their buildings gave them. In this respect the Rathhaus at Hanover is an exception, and here the decorative features are confined to the gables of the principal hall and the lofty dormer windows—to deep friezes or bands of boldly-modelled terra-cotta work—enriched plate tracery in the windows of the great hall, and (in contrast to the simple brickwork of the two lower storeys) to elaborate detail in their gables and dormer windows, which are divided up by vertical buttresses placed anglewise, composed of five or six semicircular shafts grouped together, and in alternate bands of yellow and green glazed bricks. The effect of these bright colours must have been somewhat startling when the buildings were new, but, in the unrestored portions, their brilliance has been toned down by time, and their effect is now harmonious and agreeable.
The most interesting series of structures in the Baltic provinces are the gateways of their towns, which are not only extremely picturesque objects both in outline and colour, but display great fertility of invention and variety in form. Among the more important may be noticed the Holstein Thor and Burg Thor of Lubeck; the two gates at Stendal, and the four gates of Neu-Brandenburg.
As the examples just enumerated are types of the best buildings which exist in the province, they are sufficient to characterise the style, and at the same time to show how much can be done even with the restriction imposed by the absence of stone. As many of the towns were populous and wealthy during the Middle Ages, they of course had large and commodious churches; and although they are wanting in those high qualities which we find in the French cathedrals, their size and the excellence of their vaulting render them well worthy of study.
In addition to the buildings above referred to, in many of their towns, such as Anclam, Lubeck, Dantzic, and others, will be found fine examples of the pointed style of Hanseatic architecture.
I. SCANDINAVIA
CONTENTS.
Sweden—Norway—Denmark—Gothland—Round Churches—Wooden Churches.
NO one who has listened to all that was said and written in Germany before the late war about “Schleswig-Holstein Stamm verwandt,” can very well doubt that when he passes the Eyder going northward, he will enter on a new architectural province. He must, however, be singularly deficient in ethnographical knowledge if he expects to find anything either original or beautiful in a country inhabited by races of such purely Aryan stock. If there is any Finnish or Lap blood in the veins of the Swedes or Danes it must have dried up very early, for no trace of its effect can be detected in any of their architectural utterances; unless, indeed, we should ascribe to it that peculiar fondness for circular forms which is so characteristic of their early churches, and which may have been derived from the circular mounds and stone circles which were in use in Sweden till the end of the 10th century. The country in fact was only converted to Christianity in the reign of Olof Sköt Konung—1001 to 1026; and then, and for a long time afterwards, was too poor and too thinly inhabited to require any architectural buildings, and when these came to be erected the dominant race was one that never showed any real sympathy for the art in any part of the world.
SWEDEN.
The largest and most important monument in the province is the Cathedral of Upsala, (Woodcut No. 777) measuring 370 ft. by 330 ft., though it can hardly be quoted as an example of Scandinavian art; for when the Swedes, in the end of the 13th century (1287), determined on the erection of a cathedral worthy of their country, they employed a Frenchman of the name of Étienne Bonnueill, to furnish them with a design, and to superintend its erection. This he did till his death, though how far the work was advanced at that time there is now no means of knowing. The church is only 330 ft. in extreme length by 145 in width, with two western towers, and the principal portal between them. The whole is of brick, except the doorways, the gable of north transept, the interior columns, and some smaller ornamental details. The building was in progress during 200 years,[82] and after Bonnueill’s death the French principles of detail were departed from; and, in addition to this, the upper parts of western towers were rebuilt during the last century, and other disfigurements have taken place, so that the building would hardly be deemed worthy of a visit farther south, and is only remarkable here from the meanness of its rivals.
The church at Linköping (1260-1500) ranks next in importance to that of Upsala. It has, however no western towers or other ornaments externally, but otherwise it far surpasses the latter in interest and the beauty of its details. It is said to have been founded in 1150, and the oldest portions are the transept and crossing of the choir, where the arches are semicircular resting on piers with angle shafts and half-cylindrical columns. Early in the 12th century the nave was continued, the work, according to Mr. Perry, having spread over a long period, as at the west end of the nave the work is as late or later than any of the work at Upsala. The wall arcading in the north and south aisles is bold in design, nobly moulded and carved. The choir, with its three eastern chapels, was commenced late in the 13th or early in the 14th century, but not completed till 1499.
The cathedral at Lund is both older and better than either of these. It was commenced apparently about the year 1072, and consecrated in 1145 by Archbishop Eskill, who had presided over its construction, and to whom may be attributed its purely German character, as he had been brought up in Hildesheim. The church has been magnificently restored, but unfortunately at too early a date to have preserved much of its historical features.
The church of St. Nicholas at Orebro is chiefly interesting on account of its strong resemblance to English work. The fine south porch bears a strong likeness to the now destroyed porch of St. Mary Overie, published in Mr. Dollman’s work,[83] and is not dissimilar to the porch of the north transept of Westminster Abbey.
There are other churches in Sweden, at Westeräs, Stregnäs, and Abo in Finland, all large[84]—viz., about 300 ft. east and west by 100 to 120 in width,—and founded in the 12th and 13th centuries; but, like the nave at Lund, they have been altered and improved so frequently during the last 600 years, that very little remains of the original design: whatever that may have been, in their present state they are hardly worthy of mention.
Perhaps the most pleasing objects in Sweden are the country churches, with their tall wooden spires and detached belfries. If these do not possess much architectural beauty, they at all events are real purposelike erections, expressing what they are intended for in the simplest manner, and with their accompaniments always making up a pleasing group.
NORWAY.
The Norwegians are more fortunate than either the Danes or Swedes in possessing at Trondhjem a national cathedral of great beauty and interest, even in its present ruined state.
Its history is easily made out from a comparison of local traditions with the style of the building itself. Between the years 1016 and 1030 St. Olaf built a church on the spot where now stands St. Clement’s church, the detached building on the north, shown in plan at A (Woodcut No. 780). He was buried a little to the south of his own church, where the high altar of the cathedral is now situated. Between the years 1036 and 1047, Magnus the Good raised a small wooden chapel over St. Olaf’s grave; and soon afterwards Harald Haardraade built a stone church, dedicated to Our Lady, immediately to the westward of this, at B. This group of three churches stood in this state during the troubled period that ensued. With the return of peace in 1160, Archbishop Eysteen commenced the great transept C C to the westward of the Lady Chapel, and probably completed it about the year 1183. At that time either he or his successor rebuilt the church of St. Clement as we now find it. During the next sixty or seventy years the whole of the eastern part of the cathedral was rebuilt, the tomb-house or shrine being joined on to the apse of the Lady Church, as was explained in speaking of the origin of the French chevet (p. 73). In 1248 Archbishop Sigurd commenced the nave, but whether it was ever completed or not is by no means certain. In 1328 the church was damaged by fire, and it must have been after this accident that the internal range of columns in the circular part was rebuilt in the style of our earlier Edwards.
Thus completed, the church was one of the largest in Scandinavia, being 350 ft. long internally; the choir 64, and the nave 84 ft. wide. But its great merit lies more in its details than in its dimensions. Nothing can exceed the richness with which the billet-moulding is used in the great transept. Its employment here is so vigorous and so artistic, that it might almost be suspected that this was its native place, and that it was derived from some wooden architecture usual in this country before being translated into stone.
The greatest glory of the place is the tomb-house at the east end. Externally this presents a bold style of architecture resembling the early English.[85] Internally it is a dome 30 ft. in diameter, supported on a range of columns disposed octagonally, and all the details correspond with those of the best period of decorated architecture.
As will be observed from the plan (Woodcut No. 780), the architect had considerable difficulty with all these rebuildings to bring the old and new parts to fit well together, and in consequence the walls are seldom straight or parallel with one another, and, what is most unusual, the choir expands towards the east. This is not, however, carried to such an extent as to be a blemish, and with a double range of columns down the centre would hardly be perceived, or if perceived, the effect would be rather pleasing than otherwise.
Had the western front been completed, it would have been one of the most beautiful anywhere to be found, not only from its extent (120 ft.), but also from the richness and beauty of its details, belonging to the very best period of art—about the year 1300. In design and detail it resembles very much the beautiful façade of Wells Cathedral. Like the rest of the cathedral, it is now in a very ruinous state, and, as will be seen by the view (Woodcut No. 781), the whole is so deformed externally by modern additions, that its original effect can only be judged of by a careful examination of its details.
DENMARK.
The most interesting church in Denmark is that at Roeskilde, in Jutland, which is now the burial-place of the kings, and the principal cathedral of the country. The original church was founded in the year 1081, and was then apparently circular, and of the same dimensions as the east end of the present edifice. This latter was commenced after the middle of the 12th century, and does not seem to have been completed as we now see it till towards the end of the 13th. The east end is probably one-half of the old round church rebuilt, the required enlargement of space having been obtained by a considerable extension of length towards the west.
Its general dimensions, as shown in the plan (Woodcut No. 783), are 265 ft. long by 75 in breadth internally. The whole area is only about 24,000 sq. ft., and consequently not more than half that of most English cathedrals.
From the elevation (Woodcut No. 784), it appears simple and elegant in its design, and contains the germ of much that is found afterwards in the churches of the neighbourhood, especially in the range of small gables along the side of the aisles, marking externally each bay of the nave.[87] This arrangement is almost universal in the North of Germany, but seldom, if ever, found in France or England.
At Aarus is a somewhat similar church, commenced about the year 1200, but rather larger, being 300 ft. in length by 80 in breadth. In its present state, however, it is only a very ugly and uninteresting brick building in an indifferent state of repair.[88] The Frue Kirke, in the same town, is a far more pleasing specimen of art, and is a fine example of the style prevalent on the southern shores of the Baltic, from which province the design is evidently borrowed. Like every specimen of honest art, it is pleasing; but neither its form nor arrangement will bear any very close analysis.
The cathedral at Ribe, on the northern limits of Schleswig, with an apse something like that of Lund Cathedral, but of slightly more modern date, and wanting the gallery under the roof, and the Cathedral of Viborg, rebuilt between 1130 and 1170, and said to be one of the finest specimens of Continental Norman, also deserve mention.
Sometimes, we get a touch of originality even in this province, as in the church of Kallundborg (Woodcut No. 785), built in the form of a cross, with one square tower in the centre, and four octagonal towers, one at the end of each of the arms of the cross transept. Was it a caprice? or is it borrowed from any other form? Except in the Kremlin at Moscow, I do not know where to look for any such type, and even then the likeness is very remote. A larger octagon in the centre, with four square towers around it, must have been a happier arrangement, and, if properly subordinated, have formed a picturesque group. In this example the church itself is lost sight of, and the towers are not remarkable for beauty.
GOTHLAND.
The island of Gothland, though politically attached to Sweden, deserves to be treated as a little province of its own in an architectural view, inasmuch as it possesses a group of churches within its limits as interesting as any in the North of Europe; and peculiar, if not exceptional in design. Their existence is owing to the fact, that during the 11th and 12th centuries a great portion of the Eastern trade which had previously been carried on through Egypt or Constantinople was diverted to a northern line of communication, owing principally to the disturbed state of the East, which preceded and in fact gave rise to the Crusades. At this time a very considerable trade passed through Russia, and centred in Novogorod. From that place it passed down the Baltic to Gothland, which was chosen apparently for the security of its island position, and its capital, Wisby, one of the Hanse towns, became the great emporium of the West. After two centuries of prosperity, it was gradually superseded by the rise of other Hanseatic towns on the mainland, and a final blow was struck by Valdemar of Denmark, who took the town by storm in 1361. Since then it has gradually become depopulated. The consequence has been that, no additional accommodation being required, the old churches have remained unaltered; many also have entirely disappeared, the materials having been used for other buildings and for converting into lime; so that in Wisby, the capital, only eleven remain of the eighteen or twenty churches she formerly possessed, and the only reminiscence of the locality of those destroyed consists in the streets and houses to which they have bequeathed their names.
The cathedral church of St. Mary was originally founded about the year 1100, burnt down in 1175, and rebuilt as we now find it about 1225. Like all the others it is small, being only 171 ft. 6 in. long by 99 ft. in width. It is the only church now used for divine service, the remainder being in ruins.
One of the most remarkable churches in Wisby is that of the Helge-Anders (church of the Holy Ghost), founded originally, it is said, in 1046.[89] This, however, must refer to an earlier church, for the actual building[90] belongs to the transitional period both in its construction and in its details; it cannot, therefore, according to Mr. Haig, “have been erected earlier than at the beginning of the 13th century,” and this may apply only to the chancel, the north wall of which seems to indicate an earlier date than the rest of the building—in all probability about 1250 would be the date of the church, generally speaking. The nave is an octagon of about 48 by 45 ft., somewhat irregular in its setting out and owing to want of space was built in two storeys, both of which are vaulted, the vaults being carried by four octagonal piers on ground floor and circular piers on second floor in the vault of the lower storey there is an opening in the centre about 7 ft. in diameter, which is said to have been formerly filled with an iron grating. The chancel (which is square externally and internally, having a small apse and two small vestries) opens into both lower and upper church by semicircular arches, and thus serves for both. There was a third storey in the roof with stone gables on the east face of the octagon; the roof is gone, but it may have terminated as that of the church of Kallundborg (Woodcut No. 785).
The church most like this in Germany is perhaps that at Schwartz Rheindorf (Woodcuts Nos. 718 and 719). It also resembles the chapel at Landsberg (Woodcut No. 720); but the most extended and indeed the typical example of a church of this class is St. Gereon’s at Cologne (Woodcuts Nos. 740 and 741).
The churches of St. Lars and St. Drotheus, the so-called sister churches (probably from the resemblance of their plans), belong probably to the 11th century, but the pointed work in them is evidently of a later period. About the same date, 1097, is given for St. Nicholas, the church of a Dominican convent, but the whole has been remodelled at a later period, the main arches of the nave rebuilt, and probably the whole church revaulted in the 13th century, at which period also the octagonal chancel was built.
The church of St. Katharine, belonging to the Franciscans or Grey Friars, was also wholly remodelled in the pointed period. It is said to have been founded in 1225. The choir, with its polygonal apse, was built in 1376-1391, and the piers and arches of the nave were rebuilt about the year 1400, the church being reconsecrated in 1412.
One peculiarity found in some of the churches of Gothland is the bisection of the nave by two or more arcades carried on columns and placed in the centre of the church, the easternmost arch being supported by a corbel built in above the keystone of the chancel arch.[91] One of these churches, St. Göran, or St. George, outside the walls of Wisby, consists of a nave of three bays divided by a central arcade (the western pier being square, the eastern circular), and a chancel of two square bays. A second example is found at Gothem, about twenty miles east of Wisby. Here the eastern portion of the nave, only consisting of two bays, is bisected; the western portion was probably intended to carry a tower, the walls being much thicker than the rest of the church. The arches thrown across the western part of the nave under the tower are semicircular and carried on twin columns; the column in the centre of the nave is circular, much loftier than the twin columns, and carries pointed arches (Woodcut No. 787). The great height of these arches allows of their being carried on a corbel above the chancel arch instead of its forming, as at Folö, the keystone of the chancel arch. In this latter church the nave is also divided by three arches carried on circular columns which diminish in diameter as they rise, but not to the extent as shown in Marryat’s work[92] (Woodcut No. 788). A fourth example is given in Major Heales’ work,[93] in which the arched ribs of the vault are carried on a clustered capital carved with foliage of early English type, the pier or column being circular.
The portals of the churches at Sandeo (Woodcut No. 789) and Hoäte (Woodcut No. 790), dating probably from the middle of the 14th century, and two other examples at Stänga and Garde (about 30 miles from Wisby), are interesting on account of the singular blind cuspings round the inner order, a treatment which seems peculiar to the Gothland style. They are singularly elegant specimens of the art, and worthy of being quoted if for that reason alone.
Another peculiarity seems to be that the Gothland churches are all small buildings, like the Greek churches. There does not appear to have been any metropolitan basilica, or any great conventual establishment, but an immense number of detached cells and chapels scattered in groups all over the island, with very few that could contain a congregation of any extent.
ROUND CHURCHES.
To the archæologist the Round Churches form the most interesting group in the Scandinavian province, though to the architect they can hardly be deemed of much importance. They are, however, so remarkable that many theories have been formed to account for their peculiarities. The most general opinion seems to be that the circular form was adopted for defensive purposes; and this seems to be borne out by the description given in Major Heales’ work, who, referring to the four examples in Bornholm (which are of the same type as others in the Scandinavian provinces), states, pp. 26 and 29: “Each consists of a circular nave, a chancel, and an apse.” The dimensions are always moderate; the internal diameter of the naves being, Olska, 34 ft. 2 ins., Nyska, 35 ft. 4 ins., Nylarska, 38 ft. 2 ins., and Oester Larsker, 42 ft. 3 ins. (Woodcut No. 793) “In two cases even the chancel wall are convex in plan, so that their ground plan is formed without a single straight line.” The nave is covered with a vault carried on a central pier (except in the case of the Oester Larsker, where there are six piers, the space in the centre being open to an upper storey). The second storey is similarly vaulted, and the central pier rises to carry the roof timbers of the third or upper storey. “The walls of the nave vary in thickness from 5 to 6 ft.”— “beyond a small doorway and a few loopholes measurable by inches there are no external openings except in the upper storey, which consists of a gallery formed in the thickness of the wall and lighted by loopholes arranged not to correspond with the openings by which the gallery is entered from the central chamber.” The approach to this upper chamber as well as to that of the first floor is by narrow, steep, and crooked staircases in the thickness of the wall, which could be easily defended, at all events for a time, the assumption being that the church might be attacked by freebooters coming by sea whose onslaught would not be of long duration.
The circular form of church would seem to have been much more common in Northern Europe in the early centuries of the Christian faith than afterwards. In the richer and more populous South they were superseded, as has above been pointed out, by basilicas of more extended dimensions, into which they were frequently absorbed. In the poorer North they have sufficed for the scant population and remained unchanged.
Mr. Marryat enumerates eight examples in Denmark,[94] and there are at least as many, if not more, in Sweden. All are of Teutonic type—naves with small apses—as contradistinguished from the French or Celtic form, where the circular part became the choir to which the nave was added afterwards.
That at Thorsager, in Jutland, though not one of the oldest, may be taken as a type of its class, and its arrangement and appearance will be understood from the preceding view, section, and plan (Woodcuts Nos. 791 and 792). The building is not large; the diameter of the circle internally being only 40 ft., and the floor encumbered by four great pillars; the total length over all is 90 ft. Originally it seems to have been intended as a two-storey church, the vault being omitted over the central compartment, as was the case in the Helge-Anders Church at Wisby (Woodcut No. 786). The whole design is certainly pleasing and picturesque, though there is a little awkwardness in the way the various parts are fitted together.
The round Church at Oester Larsker, in Bornholm (Woodcut No. 793), is of exactly the same type as that at Thorsager, but older, and having more the appearance of being fortified than the other; there being a range of small openings immediately under the roof.
In Sweden there are some examples of round churches, the most typical being that at Hagby (Woodcut No. 794); though it is not so picturesque as the two last quoted, it differs in reality very little from them, showing a permanence and consistency of type throughout the whole province where they are found.
So great a favourite was this circular or octagonal form of nave, however, that it clung to the soil long after its meaning was lost, and we find it stretched into a tall octagonal spire in Läderbro Church, but still serving as a nave to a small choir, the foundation of which is said to date as far back as 1086. The octagon as we now see it certainly belongs to the 13th or 14th century. Something of the same feeling may have led to the peculiar arrangement of Kallundborg Church (Woodcut No. 785). There four octagonal naves lead to as many choirs joined together in the centre. If we had more knowledge, perhaps we could trace the affiliation of all these forms, and complete a little genealogy of the race.
WOODEN CHURCHES.
Curious as these circular edifices certainly are, there is a group of wooden churches still existing in Norway which are as peculiar to the province and as interesting to the antiquary at least, if not to the architect, as anything found within its limits. They are not large, and, as might be expected from the nature of the materials with which they are constructed, they are fast disappearing, and in a few years not many probably will remain; but if we may judge from such accounts as we have, they were at one time numerous, and indeed appear to have been the usual and common form of church in that country. Everywhere we read of the wooden churches of Saxon and Norman times in our country, and of the contemporary periods on the Continent; but these have almost all been either destroyed by fire or pulled down to make way for more solid and durable erections. That at Little Greenstead in Essex is almost the only specimen now remaining in this country.
The largest of those now to be found in Norway is that of Hitterdal. It is 84 ft. long by 57 across. Its plan is that usual in churches of the age, except that it has a gallery all round on the outside. Its external appearance (Woodcut No. 797) is very remarkable, and very unlike anything of stone architecture. It is more like a Chinese pagoda, or some strange creation of the South Sea islanders, than the sober production of the same people who built the bold and massive round Gothic edifices of the same age.
Another of these churches, that at Burgund, is smaller, but even more fantastic in its design, and with strange carved pinnacles at its angles, which give it a very Chinese aspect.
That at Urnes is both more sober and better than either of these, but much smaller, being only 24 ft. wide by 65 ft. from east to west. As may be seen from the view (Woodcut No. 798), it still retains a good deal of the Runic carving that once probably adorned all the panels of the exterior, as well as the various parts of the roof. As these decayed they seem to have been replaced by plain timbers, which of course detract very much from the original appearance.
All the doorways and principal openings are carved with the same elaborate ornaments, representing entwined dragons fighting and biting each other, intermixed occasionally with foliage and figures.
This style of carving is found on crosses and tombstones, not only in Scandinavia, but in Scotland and Ireland. It is only known to exist in its original form on wood in these singular churches.
There can be no doubt about the age of these curious edifices, for not only does this dragon-tracery fix them to the 11th or 12th century, but the capitals of the pillars and general character of the mouldings exactly correspond with the details of our own Norman architecture, so far as the difference of materials permits.
With the circular churches, and those at Wisby, these wooden churches certainly add a curious and interesting chapter to the history of Christian architecture at the early period to which they belong, and are well deserving more attention than they have received.
When our knowledge of the examples is more complete, we may perhaps be able to trace some curious analogies from even so frail a style of architecture as that of wood. Something very like these Norwegian churches is found in various parts of Russia. The mosques and other buildings erected in Cashmere and Thibet of the Deodar pinewood are curiously like them. The same forms are found in China and Burmah, and much of the stone architecture of these countries is derived directly from such a wooden architecture as this. It may perhaps only be, that wherever men of cognate race strive to attain a given well-defined object with the same materials, they arrive inevitably at similar results. If this should prove to be the case, such a uniformity of style, arising without intercommunication among people so differently situated, would be quite as curious and instructive as if we could trace the steps by which the invention was carried from land to land, and could show that the similarity was produced by one nation adopting it from another, which all research has hitherto tended to prove was in reality the case.
I. INTRODUCTORY
ENGLAND.
IT is perhaps not too much to assert that during the Middle Ages Architecture was practised in England with even greater success than among any of the contemporary nations. In beauty of detail and elegance of proportion the English cathedrals generally surpass their Continental rivals. It is only in dimensions and mechanical construction that they are sometimes inferior. So lovingly did the people of this country adhere to the Art, that the Gothic forms clung to the soil long after they had been superseded on the Continent by the classical Renaissance; and the English returned to their old love long before other nations had got over their contempt for the rude barbarism of their ancestors. It is now more than a century since Horace Walpole conceived the idea of reproducing the beauties of York Minster and Westminster Abbey in a lath and plaster villa at Strawberry Hill. The attempt, as we now know, was ridiculous enough; but the result on the Arts of the country most important. From that day to this, Gothic villas, Gothic lodges, and Gothic churches have been the fashion—at first timidly, and wonderfully misunderstood, but now the rage, and with an almost perfect power of imitation. The result of this revived feeling for Mediæval art which interests us most in this place is, that every Gothic building in the country has been carefully examined and its peculiarities noticed. All the more important examples have been drawn and published, their dates and histories ascertained as far as possible, and the whole subject rendered complete and intelligible. The only difficulty that remains is, that the works in which the illustrations of English art are contained range over 70 or 80 years—the early ones published before the subject was properly understood; and that they are in all shapes and sizes, from the most ponderous folios to the most diminutive of duodecimos. Their number too is legion, and they therefore often go over the same ground. The one book that now seems wanted to complete the series of publications on the subject, is a clear and concise, but complete narrative of the rise and progress of the style, with just a sufficient amount of illustration to render it intelligible. Two volumes in 8vo, of 500 pages each, might suffice for the distillation of all that is contained in the 1001 volumes above alluded to: and with 1000 illustrations, if well selected, the forms and peculiarities of the style might be rendered sufficiently clear. But less would certainly not suffice.
Under these circumstances, it will be easily understood that nothing of the sort can be attempted in this work. With only one-tenth of the requisite space available, and less than that proportion of illustration, all that can be proposed is to sketch the great leading features of the subject, to estimate the value of the practice of the English architects as compared with those on the Continent, and to point out the differences which arose between their methods and ours, in consequence of either the local or social peculiarities of the various nationalities.
This compression is hardly to be regretted in the present instance, since any one may with very little trouble master the main features of the history in some of the many popular works which have been published on the subject, and all have access to the buildings themselves. It need hardly be added, that these are far better and truer exponents of the feelings and aspirations of those who erected them than all the books that ever were written. Unless a man learns to read the lessons these stone books so vividly convey, by an earnest personal investigation of the monuments themselves, of one style at least, he will hardly ever be able to understand the subject; but for the purpose of such a study, the English Mediæval architecture is perhaps the most complete and perfect. Nowhere else can all the gradations of change be so easily traced; and in no other style was there so little interference from extraneous causes. Throughout, the English sought only to erect the building then most suitable to its destination, with the best materials available for the purpose; and the result is therefore generally more satisfactory and more harmonious than in other countries where the architects were more trammelled by precedents, or more influenced by local peculiarities.
CHRONOLOGY.
Years’ Name duration. of style.
Departure of } 400 } { Romans } } { } { Arthur { 480 to } 300 { Megalithic.—Stone { 542 } { Rude Monuments. To establishment } } { of Heptarchy } 700 } {
To Conquest 366 { Early round-arched, { or Saxon Style.
William I. 1066 } { William II. 1087 } { Henry I. 1100 } 109 { Round-arched style, Stephen 1135 } { Norman. Henry II. 1154 } {
Henry II. 1175 } { Richard I. 1189 } 97 { Early pointed Lancet, John 1199 } { or Plantagenet style. Henry III. 1216 } {
Edward I. 1272 } { Perfected pointed Edward II. 1307 } 105 { Decorated, or Edward III. 1326 } { Edwardian style. Richard II. 1377 } {
Henry IV. 1329 } { Henry V. 1412 } 156 { Henry VI. 1422 } { Late pointed Perpendicular, Edward IV. 1460 } { or Lancastrian style. Edward V. 1483 } { Richard III. 1483 } {
Henry VII. 1485 } { Henry VIII. 1509 } { Fan-vaulted Transitional, Edward VI. 1546 } 117 { or Tudor Mary 1553 } { style. Elizabeth 1557 } { To 1602 } {
After the departure of the Romans, the various tribes that inhabited the island were left so feebly organised, and so unequally balanced, that they could find no better occupation for their time than that of cutting each other’s throats; in which they were afterwards so ably seconded by the Saxons and Danes, that it is in vain to look for any development of the arts of peace among them. They were equal to the erection of a Stonehenge or an Avebury in honour of those who fell in the struggles against their foreign invaders; but beyond this their architectural aspirations do not seem to have reached.
With the establishment of the Heptarchy, and more especially after Alfred’s glorious reign, we might expect something better. The country was then converted to Christianity. Churches were wanted; and there were Italian priests to be found who could tell the inhabitants what was being done at Rome and elsewhere on the Continent. But against this we have the knowledge that the dominant race was Saxon or Danish—Aryan pur sang—and art had consequently no place in their affections. Their churches were probably small and rude, just sufficient for their purposes, and no more; and designed, like railway stations, to last only till necessity compel an enlargement. Most probably, too, the greater number were built of wood; and for the true Saxon style we ought perhaps to look to the Norwegian wooden churches—described in the last book—as types of the style, rather than to the towers erected, probably, as additions to the original wooden churches. Of these towers, many still remain in our island; but in almost every case the wooden nave has been superseded by one of stone and generally in the pointed-arch style of architecture.
With the Norman Conquest a new state of things was inaugurated. Great tracts of country and great part of the wealth of the conquered races escheated to the Conqueror, and in the division of the spoil the clergy seem in some cases to have been even more fortunate than the laity. But however this may have been, it will be easily understood that a French hierarchy vowed to celibacy would be able to find no better way of employing their easily acquired wealth than in the display of architectural magnificence. During the century which succeeded the Conquest, the Saxon cathedrals, with scarcely an exception, were swept away to make room for nobler buildings designed by foreign architects, and all the larger abbey churches were likewise rebuilt. All this was done with such grandeur of conception, and so just an appreciation of the true principles of architectural effect, that even now the Norman nave, in spite of its rudeness, is frequently a more impressive specimen of art than the more polished productions of the succeeding centuries.
The impulse once so nobly given, the good work proceeded steadily but rapidly. During the three centuries which succeeded the Conquest, all the artistic intellect of the nation seems to have been concentrated on this one art. Poetry hardly existed, and Painting and Sculpture were only employed as the handmaids of architecture. But year by year new and improved forms of construction were invented and universally adopted. New mouldings, and new applications of carvings and foliage, were introduced; and painting on opaque substances and even on glass was carried to an astonishing degree of perfection. All this was done without borrowing and without extraneous aid, but by steadily progressing to a well-understood object with a definite aim. It is true that occasionally, as at Westminster Abbey, we detect the influence of French arrangements; but even there the design is carried on in so essentially English a manner, with details so purely English, as to make us feel even more strongly how essentially native the style had become.
The Ethnic combination, which led to the marvellous perfection of Gothic art during the Edwardian period, was as fortunate as can well be conceived. It was a Celtic hierarchy and aristocracy steadied by a Saxon people; with the substratum of an earlier Celtic race, held in absolute subjection by the Saxons, but rising again, at least partially, to the surface, under the Norman domination. It was something like what happened in Athens when a Dorian race was superimposed on one of Pelasgic origin; and, although the conditions were here reversed, and the field far more limited, the result was still most successful. Within the limits of a century, the French had jumped from the tentative example of St. Denis (1144) to the perfection of the Sainte Chapelle (1244). Our St. Stephen’s Chapel was not finished till a century afterwards; but while the French hardly ever went beyond their great 13th century effort, in the 16th century we were building the Royal Chapels at Windsor, Westminster, and Cambridge.
The French wars and the wars of the Roses seem to have altered the original state of affairs to a very considerable extent. The Norman nobility were decimated—almost, indeed destroyed—and another stratum of society came gradually to the surface, but this time certainly not Celtic. On the walls of the churches of the Lancastrian period we read— faintly, it must be confessed—the great Saxon motto, “The greatest possible amount of accommodation at the least possible expenditure of money and thought.” During this period, too, the cathedral and conventual hierarchies were yielding before the development of the parochial system. It may be wrong to assert that the Reformation began as early as 1400, but it is true that the seeds were then sown, which afterwards ripened into the explosion of the Commonwealth. Some very grand churches were no doubt erected during the Lancastrian period, and some beautiful additions made to existing edifices; but they were hard and mechanical as compared with that which preceded them. They were the work of accomplished masons, not wrought out with the feelings of educated gentlemen; and, though we may admire, we cannot quite adore even the best and noblest productions of their age.
Under the Tudors the style went out in a blaze of glory. Nothing can be more gorgeous and fascinating than the three Royal Chapels, and the other contemporary fan-roofed buildings; but they are like the fabled dying hues of the dolphin—bright and brilliant, but unnatural and fleeting. It was the last spasmodic effort of an expiring style, and soon passed away.
After the reformation was complete there was no longer any want of new churches, and the great incentive of making a house worthy of the service of God was taken away; so that during Elizabeth’s reign, architecture was almost wholly occupied in providing new and more extensive mansions for the nobility and landed gentry. Spacious rooms, well-lighted galleries, comfortable chambers, and good accommodation for servants were the demands of the time, with sufficient stateliness, but at the least possible outlay. Comfort and economy are the inherent antitheses of architectural effect; and then, as now, brought the art down from its exalted pedestal almost to the level of a mere useful art. But the Bodleian Library and other buildings in our Universities show that the art lingered even in the 17th century, and that men still looked upon mullions and pinnacles as objects on which a little money might be advantageously spent. But it was no longer the old art: of course there are exceptions, but that was struck down on the battlefield of Towton in 1461, only to be partially galvanised into life at Bosworth, twenty-four years afterwards.
Although Gothic architecture continued to be employed in the Universities and in remote corners of the land long after it had ceased to be practised abroad, it must not therefore be assumed that the people of England generally regarded it with admiration. To them it was the symbol of a superstition from whose influence they gloried in escaping, or the emblem of a feudal tyranny from which they were just emerging into partial freedom. During Elizabeth’s reign the struggle was hardly over; the wounds of the combatants were still fresh and bleeding, the anger of the contest had by no means subsided, and they looked with hate and abhorrence on whatever recalled the stern realities of the past. We can now afford to look on the Middle Ages with far different feelings; our wounds have long since been healed, and hardly a scar remains. Time has thrown its veil of poetry over what was then a mere prosaic matter of fact, hiding those features which were once so repulsive, and softening much which even now it is impossible to forget. They shrunk from what they felt as a reality; we cherish it because it has faded into a dream.
Bearing in mind the prevalence of these feelings, we should not be surprised that so soon as classical art was presented to them the people rushed to it with avidity. The world was then ringing with praise of the newly disseminated poetry of Virgil, the eloquence of Cicero, and the glorious narratives of Livy. A new light was dawning, and the cry arose on all sides, “Away with the Middle Ages, with their superstition and their tyranny. Roman greatness, Roman literature, and Roman art are to regenerate the world!” We are now convinced that the Classical Renaissance was not successful; but is it quite clear that a Mediæval revival will not prove even a greater and more disastrous mistake?
Be this as it may, in the whole range of artistic history it would be difficult to find any single monograph that might be made so complete in itself, or all the details of which are so well known, as that of Mediæval art in England. We know its birth and parentage; we can follow it through youth to the bloom of manhood. We can admire it in the staid maturity of its power, and in the expiring efforts of its failing strength; and we know the cause of its decay and death. To those who are able to grasp it, no story can be more interesting; while to those who desire to understand what architecture really is, how it can be cultivated so as to insure success, and by what agencies it is sure to decay and finally to die, no subject is capable of being more instructively treated.
II. SAXON ARCHITECTURE
SO few and indistinct are the traces of architectural art in England before the Norman Conquest, that for a long time it was a moot point among antiquaries whether or not any such thing existed as true Saxon architecture. The question may now be considered as settled in the affirmative. In his last edition, Rickman enumerates twenty churches in which fragments are found which certainly belong to the pre-Norman period, though no complete example can be pointed to as illustrating the style then prevalent. Since Rickman’s death ten to fifteen more specimens have been discovered. Generally they are towers or crypts, as St. Winifred’s at Ripon, or the pillars of a chancel-arch, as at Reculver. Sometimes it is a doorway, at others only a piece of rude walling. On a review of the whole, it is evident that architecture in England was certainly ruder and less developed than that on the Continent at the same age; both were, of course, based on the Roman art which preceded them; but, owing probably to our insular position, the attempted reproduction of Roman work was of so barbaric a character as to have suggested at first a wooden origin for some of the features. Mr. G.G. Scott, however, in his essay on the history of ‘English Church Architecture’ (1871), says: “What we term Saxon architecture is in reality but an English version of the contemporary art of Italy with which the Roman missionaries and their successors were well acquainted, and which they endeavoured with imperfect success to naturalize here.” On this subject Mr. Scott says, p. 42: “There is no feature more characteristic of Saxon architecture than the use of rude pilaster strips. The imitation of the mode of bonding of such pilasters, in the construction of groins, and in the jambs of doorways and other openings, constitutes what is known as ‘long and short work.’ This has sometimes been supposed to be a tradition of wooden construction. It is certainly nothing of the kind. It represents simply the manner in which a classic pilaster is ordinarily constructed as distinguished from the mediæval method of forming a quoin.” It should be observed also that the method of placing upright posts of timber at intervals for the sake of economy in filling in between, with brick-nogging or forming plaster surfaces or battens, is a much later type of construction; the earliest timber church in existence (and it is doubtful if that was built before Norman times), viz., Greensted Church, Essex, is constructed of huge balks of timber placed side by side, and is entirely unlike the disposition of the upright bands of stone found in Saxon work. Triangular heads to doorways and windows are found in St. Jean of Poitiers, in St. Front at Périgueux, and elsewhere in France, “where the scientific mode of the construction and the perfection of the details, forbid us to attribute it to the habit of building in wood.” The baluster shafts also, Mr. Scott suggests, were copied from Roman balusters. The projecting hood-mould over doorway and window openings, which is not an independent ring of masonry as in Norman and Gothic work, is copied from the outer moulding of the Roman archivolt. In fact, as Mr. Scott observes, p. 43: “Our ruder Saxon churches exhibit, in however crude a form, the principles of a style distinctly arcuated—a style, that is, of which the typical forms are determined by scientific masonry. However rude and even barbarous in execution they may be, they are not rightly termed even debased Roman.” “They exhibit a purely arcuated style, true in its science, however imperfect in its art.”
Although interesting to English antiquaries, the specimens of Saxon art are so insignificant as hardly to deserve much notice in a universal history of the art, and one or two examples will suffice to explain the peculiarities of the style. The tower of Earl’s Barton in Northamptonshire contains in itself more undoubted Saxon characteristics than any other specimen yet described: its angles, as shown in Woodcut No. 799, are constructed with that peculiar form of quoin known as “long and short,” while its faces are ornamented by long pilaster-like slips connected by semicircular arches or more frequently by straight-lined cross-bracing which might be regarded as wooden in its character were it not for the through bond stones which mark their junction. The windows (Woodcut No. 800) are formed by gouty balusters, looking very much as if they were turned in a lathe, and the whole arrangements bear out that character. Even more characteristic of the style than this, is the doorway under the tower of the church at Monkwearmouth in Durham (Woodcut No. 801). There seems no doubt but that it is part of the church which Benedict Biscop erected there in the 7th century. According to the chronicles, when he was enabled by the liberality of King Ecgfrid to found a monastery there, he went, in 674, to Gaul to procure masons who could erect it in the “Roman manner” that is, in imitation of the basilicas in Rome. The twined serpents with birds’ beaks, on the right doorpost, are, as we know from manuscripts of that age, singularly characteristic of the style, but not, so far as I know, found elsewhere engraved in stone on a church door. Though quaint and interesting to the antiquary, it must be confessed there is not much grace or beauty in any feature of the style, or even an approach to grandeur of dimensions in any example which has been spared to the present day.
Had any great conventual church or cathedral survived we might perhaps be forced to modify this opinion:[95] but the only one of which we know anything is that which was erected at Canterbury by Archbishop Odo in the years 940-960, to replace the older church of St. Augustine.[96] Even this, however, we only know from the description of Edmer, the singer, who saw it before it was destroyed by fire in 1067. Like the German churches of that age, it seems to have had two apses. The principal one, towards the east, was appropriated to the clergy; while the western one belonged to the laity, or, as we should now say, was devoted to parochial purposes.
Its walls and structure probably resembled the nave of Montier-en-Der (Woodcut No. 610), or the Basse Œuvre at Beauvais (Woodcut No. 608)— plain piers supporting round arches below, and small circular-headed windows in a plain wall above.
Outside the original church of St. Augustine to the eastward—at what distance we unfortunately are not told—Cuthbert, the second archbishop, about the year 750 erected a second church, “as a baptistery, and in order that it might serve as the burying-place of future archbishops;”[97] thus combining the two rites in a ceremonial church apart from the basilica, exactly as was done in Italy during the Romanesque age. It is by no means improbable that the eastern termination of the present cathedral known as Becket’s Crown stands on the site of this old baptistery, and retains its dimensions; but it is difficult to prove this, so completely have all the features of the church been altered by subsequent rebuildings.
From what we know of Saxon MSS. and other indications, it would seem that painting was a favourite mode of decoration among the Saxons; and if so, their interiors may have been more successful as works of art than their external architecture would lead us to expect. But as no specimen of Saxon painted mural decoration has come down to our time, it is hardly safe to assume much with regard to this.