transcriber's note minor punctuation errors have been corrected without notice. an obvious printer error has been corrected, and it is listed at the end. all other inconsistencies are as in the original. the author's spelling has been maintained. the cambridge manuals of science and literature the ground plan of the english parish church london: fetter lane, e.c. c. f. clay, manager edinburgh: 100, princes street berlin: a. asher and co. leipzig: f. a. brockhaus new york: g. p. putnam's sons bombay and calcutta: macmillan and co., ltd. _all rights reserved_ [illustration: hedon, yorkshire: nave from n.w.] [illustration] the ground plan of the english parish church by a. hamilton thompson m.a., f.s.a. cambridge: at the university press 1911 cambridge: printed by john clay, m.a. at the university press _with the exception of the coat of arms at the foot, the design on the title page is a reproduction of one used by the earliest known cambridge printer, john siberch, 1521_. preface there is as yet no book entirely devoted to the development of the plan of the parish church in england, and the body of literature which bears upon the subject is not very accessible to the ordinary student. the present volume is an attempt to indicate the main lines on which that development proceeded. it is obvious that, from necessary considerations of space, much has been omitted. the elevation of the building, and the treatment of its decorative features, window-tracery, sculpture, etc., belong to another and wider branch of architectural study, in which the parish church pursues the same line of structural development as the cathedral or monastic church, and the architectural forms of the timber-roofed building follow the example set by the larger churches with their roofs of stone. to this side of the question much attention has been devoted, and of late years increasing emphasis has been laid on the importance of the vaulted construction of our greater churches, which is the very foundation of medieval architecture and the secret of its progress through its various "styles." it is expected that the reader of this book, in which a less familiar but none the less important topic is handled, will already have some acquaintance with the general progress of medieval architectural forms, with which the development of the ground plan keeps pace. some historical and architectural questions, which arise out of the consideration of the ground plan, and have an important bearing upon it, are treated in another volume of this series, which is intended to be complementary to the present one. the writer is grateful to his wife, for the plans and sketches which she has drawn for him, and for much help: to mr c. c. hodges and mr j. p. gibson, for the permission to make use of their photographs; and to the rev. j. c. cox, ll.d., f.s.a., and the rev. r. m. serjeantson, m.a., f.s.a., for their kindness in reading through the proofs and supplying suggestions of the greatest value. a. h. t. gretton, northants _26 january 1911_ contents chapter i the origin of the church plan in england section page 1. the basilican church plan 1 2. problem of its derivation 2 3. rival theories of its origin 3 4. the roman basilica: old st peter's 6 5. basilicas at ravenna 8 6. tomb-churches and baptisteries 9 7. centralised plans at ravenna 10 8. relative advantages of the basilican and the centralised plan 12 9. the basilican church at silchester 13 10. early churches in kent and essex 14 11. bradford-on-avon, wilts. 16 12. escomb church, durham 16 13. early northumbrian churches 18 14. wilfrid's churches at hexham and ripon 20 15, 16. brixworth, northants: other basilican plans 21 17. exceptional occurrence of the basilican plan in england 24 chapter ii parish churches of the later saxon period section page 18. the normal pre-conquest plan 27 19. the western bell-tower 29 20. plans in which the ground floor of the tower forms the body of the church 30 21. barton-on-humber and the centralised plan 33 22. centralised planning in england 34 23. the saxon lateral porch 35 24. development of the transeptal chapel 36 25. towers between nave and chancel 37 26, 27. development of the cruciform plan 38 28. influence of local material upon the aisleless church plan 42 chapter iii the aisleless church of the norman period 29. survival and development of the aisleless plan after the conquest 44 30. the nave of the aisleless church 46 31. rectangular chancels 47 32. churches with no structural division between nave and chancel 49 33. churches with apsidal chancels 49 34. the quire 53 35. the transeptal chapel 54 36. cruciform plans: north newbald and melbourne 58 37. later developments of the cruciform plan 60 38. symbolism in planning 62 chapter iv the aisled parish church i. nave, tower, and porches section page 39. survival of the aisleless plan 64 40. the addition of aisles 66 41. use of aisles for side altars 66 42. twelfth century aisled plans 69 43. ordinary method of adding aisles 70 44, 45. consequent irregularities of plan 74 46. gradual addition of aisles 77 47. raunds church, northants 79 48. conservative feeling of the builders for old work 81 49. aisles widened and rebuilt 83 50. rebuilding of aisles as chantry chapels: harringworth, northants 84 51. newark, cirencester, northleach, and grantham 87 52. naves lengthened westward 92 53. the western tower in relation to the plan 94 54. engaged western towers, etc. 96 55. rebuilding of towers 98 56. porches 99 57. position of the porch in the plan 99 chapter v the aisled parish church ii. transepts and chancel 58. cruciform churches with aisled transepts 101 59. addition of transeptal chapels 102 60. variety of treatment of transeptal chapels 105 61. transeptal chapels as a key to original ground plans 107 62. incomplete cruciform plans 108 63. irregular cruciform plans 110 64. central towers with transeptal chapels 113 65. transeptal towers 113 66. lengthening of chancels 114 67. encroachment of the chancel on the nave: tansor 115 68. chancel chapels 117 69. churches with one chancel chapel 119 70. chantry chapels attached to chancels 120 71. effect of the addition of chapels on the cruciform plan 121 72. the aisled rectangular plan 124 73. variations of the plan with aisled nave and chancel 126 74. development of the aisled rectangle at grantham 129 75. deviation of the axis of the chancel 131 index of places 134 list of illustrations hedon. interior of nave _frontispiece_ figs. page 1 plan of old st peter's 6 2 plan of san vitale, ravenna 11 3 plan of escomb--typical saxon church 17 4 st peter's, barton-on-humber 31 5 aisleless plan, 12th cent. 45 6 birkin, yorkshire: interior 51 7 two aisleless plans with central tower 55 8 north newbald 57 9 sketch of older wall above nave arcade, gretton 72 10 plan of raunds church 80 11 plan of harringworth church 85 12 two plans, nos. 1 and 2, of grantham church 88 13 sketch of arch joining arcade to tower, gretton 93 14 plan of 13th cent. church: w. tower, s. porch, transeptal chapels 103 15 st mary's, beverley. interior of transept. 111 16 plans of grantham church, nos. 3 and 4 130 chapter i the origin of the church plan in england § 1. side by side with the establishment of christianity as the religion of the roman empire, there appeared a fully developed plan for places of christian worship. the normal christian church of the fourth century of our era was an aisled building with the entrance at one end, and a semi-circular projection known as the apse at the other. the body of the building, the nave with its aisles, was used by the congregation, the quire of singers occupying a space, enclosed within low walls, at the end nearest the apse. in the apse, raised above the level of the nave, was the altar, behind which, ranged round the wall, were the seats for the bishop and assistant clergy. this type of church, of which the aisled nave and the apse are the essential parts, is known as the _basilica_. the name, employed to designate a "royal" or magnificent building, had long been applied to large buildings, whether open to the sky or roofed, which were used, partly as commercial exchanges, partly as halls of justice. it is still often said that the christian basilicas were merely adaptations of such buildings to sacred purposes. some of the features of the christian plan are akin to those of the secular basilica. the apse with its semi-circular range of seats and its altar reproduces the judicial tribune, with its seats for the praetor and his assistant judges, and its altar on which oaths were taken. the open galleries, which in some of the earliest christian basilicas at rome form an upper story to the aisles, recall the galleries above the colonnades which surrounded the central hall of some of the larger secular basilicas. again, the _atrium_ or forecourt through which the christian basilica was often approached has been supposed to be derived from the _forum_ in connexion with which the secular basilica was frequently built. § 2. however, while the _atrium_ of the christian basilica is merely an outer court, the secular basilica, when planned, like the basilica ulpia at rome, with direct relation to a _forum_, was a principal building in connexion with the _forum_, but not a building of which the _forum_ was a mere annexe. further, when we begin to seek for a complete identification of the christian with the secular basilica, we are met by the obstacle that the secular basilica had no fixed plan. if we try to trace any principle of development in its plan, we find that this development is directly inverse to that of the christian basilica. the secular basilica, in earlier examples a colonnaded building with its central space open to the sky, became at a later time a roofed hall, either, as in the case of the basilica at trier, without aisles, or, like the basilica of maxentius or constantine in the roman forum, with a series of deep recesses at the side, the vaulted roofs of which served to counteract the outward pressure of the main vault. the christian basilica, if it were a mere imitation of this type of building, would follow the same line of development; but, as a matter of fact, the highest type of christian church is always a colonnaded or aisled building. and, even if the christian apse derived its arrangement from the apse or apses which projected from the ends or sides of the secular basilicas, there is again a difference. the apse with its altar was the main feature of the interior of the christian church: it was the place in which the chief rite of christian worship was performed before the eyes of all. in the secular basilica the apse was devoted to special purposes which set it apart from the main business of the body of the building: it was an appendage to the central hall, not necessarily within view of every part of it. in fact, the relation of the apse to the main building was totally different in the two cases. § 3. it seems probable, then, that the identity between the two buildings is mainly an identity of name, and that christian builders, in seeking for suitable arrangements for public worship, may have borrowed some details from the arrangements of the secular basilica. it is natural, however, to look for the origin of a religious plan in buildings devoted to religious purposes. the roman temple supplied no help for the plan of buildings which were required for public worship. of recent years, it has been customary to assume that the christian basilica took its form from the inner halls of the private houses of those wealthy citizens who embraced christianity in its early days. such halls may have been used for christian services; and if their plan was adopted for the christian basilica, the mature state of the basilican plan at its first appearance can be explained. the _atrium_ or entrance hall of the house is represented on this hypothesis by the forecourt of the basilica; the peristyle, or colonnade round the inner room, becomes the aisles and the space screened off at the entrance for those not entitled to take full part in the service; the colonnade at the further end survives in the arcaded screen which existed, for example, in old st peter's at rome; the apse takes the place of the _tablinum_, where the most sacred relics of family life were preserved; and the transept, which is found in some of the early roman basilican plans, represents the _alae_, or transverse space, which existed between the _tablinum_ and the main body of the hall. but these close analogies are the result of an assumption by no means certain. it is always probable that the basilican plan had its origin in a plan originally aisleless. some, intent on its religious source, explain it as a development of the plan of the jewish synagogue. others, regarding assemblies of christians for public worship as, in their essence, meetings of persons associated in common brotherhood, have derived the basilica directly from the aisleless _scholae_ which were the meeting-places of the various confraternities or _collegia_ of ancient rome. in these there is an apse at one end of the building; and, if we imagine aisles added by the piercing of the walls with rows of arches and columns, we have at once the essential features of the basilican plan. each theory has its attractions and its difficulties; and to none is it possible to give unqualified adherence. it may be stated, as a tentative conclusion, that the basilican plan probably had its origin in an aisleless form of building, and thus pursued a course directly opposite to the development of the secular basilica. but it seems clear that, in many details of the plan, especially as we see it in rome, the peristyled hall was kept in mind; while in two features, the arrangement of the apse and the occasional appearance of galleries above the aisles, the secular basilica was taken into consideration. the policy of the early christian church, when its services were sanctioned by the state, was to adapt existing and familiar forms where they could be suitably reproduced. [illustration: fig. 1. plan of old st peter's: (1) _atrium_ or fore-court; (2) nave with double aisles; (3) site of screen-colonnade; (4, 4) transepts; (5) apse with crypt below.] § 4. the plan of the old basilica of st peter at rome, founded by constantine the great, and destroyed early in the sixteenth century to make way for the present church, explains the principal features of the basilican plan in its developed state. (1) in common with other early basilicas in rome, and in other parts of western europe, the entrance was at the east, and the altar at the west end, so that the celebrant faced the congregation during the divine office. (2) the church was approached through a cloistered _atrium_ or fore-court, in the middle of which was a fountain, the place of purification for those intending to enter the church. (3) at the west end of the cloister three doorways opened into the nave of the church, and one on either side into the side aisles. (4) the nave communicated with the aisles by a row of columns beneath an entablature: there were also outer aisles, communicating with the inner by columns bearing rounded arches. (5) the side walls of the nave, above the entablature, were not pierced for galleries, but were covered by two rows of mosaic pictures, one above the other, on each side, the upper row corresponding to the height of the space between the outer and inner roofs of the aisle. above this, the walls rose into a clerestory, pierced with round-headed windows at regular intervals; and a high entablature supported the great tie-beams of the wooden roof. (6) the quire of singers, divided from the rest of the church by low screen walls, probably occupied the centre of the western portion of the nave. (7) a tall open arch divided the nave from the transept, which was of equal height with the nave, and projected south and north as far as the walls of the outer aisles. here probably were places reserved for distinguished persons, near the platform of the altar. (8) west of the transept, entered by a tall and wide arch, was the apse. beneath the arch was a screen, formed by a row of columns, under an entablature which bore statues of our lord and the apostles: this crossed the arch at the foot of the steps leading to the altar and seats of the clergy. (9) beneath the altar platform, and entered by doorways on each side of the flight of steps, was the crypt or _confessio_, the traditional place of martyrdom of st peter, and the resort of pilgrims to the tomb of the apostles. the hallowed place was immediately beneath the altar. § 5. the sixth century basilicas of ravenna, sant' apollinare in classe and sant' apollinare nuovo, differ in plan from the roman basilicas (1) in the fact that they have always had the altar at the east, and the entrance at the west end; (2) by substituting, for a colonnaded atrium, a closed porch or _narthex_ in front of the entrance of the building. in process of time, two of the greater roman basilicas, san paolo and san lorenzo fuori le mura, were enlarged in a westward direction, so that the positions of the altar and entrance were reversed; and, in several of the early basilicas at rome, a space near the entrance of the nave was screened off, from which penitents and catechumens might watch the service. but, in the first instance, the eastern chancel and the structural _narthex_ appear to have been introduced from the eastern empire. neither at ravenna nor at rome did bell-towers originally form part of the plan of the basilica: the round _campanili_ of both churches at ravenna are certainly later additions. it may also be noted (1) that ordinarily the aisles were single, not double as at old st peter's. (2) the columned screen of the apse at old st peter's appears to have been exceptional. the ordinary screen or _cancelli_, from which is derived our word "chancel" for the space thus enclosed, was a low wall. this is the arrangement at the basilica of san clemente, in which the enclosed quire also remains. (3) the transept, even in rome, was an exceptional arrangement, and does not appear in the basilicas of ravenna. § 6. another type of plan, however, was used in rome for churches devoted to the special purposes of burial and baptism. in this case the buildings were planned round a central point, and at rome were uniformly circular. recesses round the walls of the mausoleum-church contained sarcophagi: in the centre of the baptistery was the great font. the church of santa costanza, outside the north-eastern walls of rome, circular in plan, with a vaulted aisle surrounding the central space, was built by constantine the great as a tomb-church for his family, and was also used as a baptistery. both these uses were direct adaptations of pagan customs. the baptistery, with its central font for total immersion, was simply a large bath-room, like the great rotunda of the baths of caracalla. the mausoleum preserved the form of which the finest example is the tomb of hadrian, now known as the castle of sant' angelo. in the course of the middle ages, certain tomb-churches in rome, with a centralised plan, were turned into places of public worship. but, for the plan of the ordinary church, the basilica, with its longitudinal axis, was general. in the eastern empire, on the other hand, the centralised plan was employed from an early date for large churches; and in this way was evolved the magnificent style of architecture which culminated in santa sophia at constantinople. here the centralised plan was triumphantly adapted to the internal arrangements of the basilica. § 7. the city of ravenna, closely connected historically both with rome and constantinople, contains a series of monuments which is of unequalled interest in the history of the centralised plan. (1) the mausoleum of the empress galla placidia, sister of the emperor honorius, who died in 450 a.d., is a building of cruciform shape, consisting of a square central space covered by a dome, with rectangular projections on all four sides. the projection through which the building is entered is longer than the others, and the plan thus forms the latin cross so common in the churches of the middle ages. (2) to the same period belongs the octagonal baptistery, known as san giovanni in fonte. (3) in 493 a.d. theodoric the ostrogoth obtained possession of ravenna. to the period of his rule belongs the arian baptistery, also octagonal, known as santa maria in cosmedin. (4) theodoric died in 526 a.d. his mausoleum is formed by a polygon of ten equal sides, with a smaller decagonal upper stage, a circular attic above which bears the great monolithic dome. in the lower story was the tomb: the internal plan is a greek cross, _i.e._ there is a central space with recesses of equal depth on all four sides. (5) in the year of the death of theodoric, the octagonal church of san vitale was begun. it was consecrated in 547, when ravenna had become the capital of the italian province of justinian's empire. its somewhat complicated plan was clearly derived from an eastern source, but not from santa sophia, which was not begun till 532 a.d. the central space is almost circular. between each of the piers which support the octagonal clerestory at the base of the cupola is an apsidal recess, with three arches on the ground floor opening into the encircling aisle, and three upper arches opening into the gallery above the aisle. on the east side of the central space this arrangement is broken, and one tall arch opens into the chancel, which ends in a projecting apse, semi-circular inside, but a half octagon outside. the aisle with the gallery above thus occupies seven sides of the outer octagon, the eighth side being occupied by the western part of the chancel. [illustration: fig. 2. plan of san vitale, ravenna: (1) _narthex_ with flanking turrets, as originally arranged; (2) central nave; (3) chancel and altar.] § 8. of the two types of plan, which can be studied so satisfactorily at ravenna, the ordinary basilican type is the more convenient. the long nave provides the necessary accommodation for worshippers, the raised apse gives a theatre for the performance of service within view of everybody, the aisles facilitate the going and coming of the congregation, and prevent over-crowding. the centralised plan provides, it is true, a large central area conveniently near the altar; but the provision of a chancel or altar-space necessitates the grafting on the plan of a feature borrowed from the ordinary basilica, which, as at san vitale, breaks the symmetry of the design. at santa sophia, the basilican chancel forms an indissoluble part of a centralised plan; but this feat is beyond the reach of an ordinary architect. even at san vitale the planning is highly complicated, and must be due to an architect of some genius. in addition to complications of design, the centralised plan raised questions of roofing which did not trouble the builders of the long wooden-roofed basilicas. the vaulted half-dome of the basilican apse was a simple matter, compared with the mighty dome of santa sophia and its cluster of abutting half-domes. it was in the centralised churches, with their domed vaults and the groined vaults of their aisles, that the history of medieval vaulting began. but, even when medieval masons had learned to regard the vaulting of their churches as the controlling principle of their art, they left the centralised plan almost entirely alone, and applied what it had taught them to the work of roofing basilicas with vaults of stone. we shall trace the influence of the centralised church as we proceed; but the influence of the basilica will be found to predominate in the history of medieval planning. § 9. in england, as in other portions of the roman empire, we might naturally expect to find the basilican plan applied to the earliest christian churches. the foundations of a small romano-british basilican church have been discovered at silchester in hampshire. the apse, as in the roman basilicas, was at the west end. the nave had aisles, which, at the end nearest the apse, broadened out into two transept-like projections. the entrance front of the church was covered by a _narthex_, the whole width of nave and aisles. this feature, as has been shown, is of eastern rather than of roman origin; while the projections at the end of the aisles appear to have been, not transepts like those at old st peter's, but separate chambers corresponding to those which, in eastern churches, flank the chancel, and are used for special ritual purposes. in fact, the basilica at silchester recalls the plans of the early basilicas of north africa more closely than those of the basilicas of rome; while it has, unlike them, the roman feature of the western apse. this, however, gives rise to questions which, in our present state of knowledge, are beyond solution. § 10. of the seven churches which are usually connected with the missionary activity of st augustine and his companions, five, of which we have ruins or foundations, certainly ended in apses; and the apse in each case was divided from the nave, not by a single arch, but by an arcade with three openings, which recalls the screen-colonnade at old st peter's. but only one church in the group, the ruined church of reculver, followed the plan of the aisled nave of the basilica. from the description which remains of the early cathedral of canterbury, destroyed by fire in 1067, we can see that it, too, was an aisled basilica, with its original apse at the west end. but the first cathedral of rochester, the plan and extent of which may be gathered from existing foundations, was an aisleless building with an eastern apse. the church of st pancras at canterbury, the lower courses of the walls of which in great part remain, had an aisleless nave, divided from an apsidal chancel by a screen-wall with three openings, that in the middle being wider than the others. the foundations of two of the four columns which flanked these openings can still be traced. the walls of the chancel, which was slightly narrower than the nave, were continued straight for a little way beyond the screen-wall; and then the curve of the apse began. st pancras also possessed a square entrance porch, much narrower than the nave, at its west end, and two chapels projecting from the nave on either side, half-way up its length. the church is thus cruciform in plan. the western porch and the chapels seem to have been added as the work proceeded, and not to have been contemplated in the original design. the material of the building is roman brick, and buttress projections occur at the western angles of the nave and porch, in the fragment which remains of the south wall of the chancel, and at the outer angles of the side chapels. small buttresses are also found at the angles and on the sides of st peter's on the wall in essex. § 11. in one respect the plan of st pancras at canterbury is allied to that of the church at bradford-on-avon in wiltshire. at bradford there remains one of the two porches, which also were probably side chapels, projecting from the sides of the nave. but at bradford the remaining porch is larger in proportion to the nave than is the case at st pancras. there is no entrance porch on the west side. further, the chancel at bradford is rectangular, not apsidal. instead of a screen-wall with a central opening nine feet wide, the wall dividing nave from chancel is pierced by a small arch only 3 ft. 6 in. wide. the date of this little church is a matter of great difficulty; and the character of its masonry seems to demand for it a later date than the early one popularly claimed for it. the contrast with st pancras is accentuated further by the fact that the internal measurements of the nave show a different scheme of proportion. the nave of st pancras is some three feet broader in proportion to its length than the much shorter nave at bradford. [illustration: fig. 3. plan of escomb--typical saxon church.] § 12. a closer parallel to bradford-on-avon is found in the little church of escomb, near bishop auckland. no record of the early history of this building is known; but its masonry is almost entirely composed of re-used roman dressed stone-work. in this respect it presents a contrast to bradford. in another respect the two churches are unlike. both have their entrances in the side walls; but at escomb there were no original porches covering the doorways, while there are traces of what may have been an entrance porch, like that of st pancras, at the west end. but they have these points in common: (1) the nave at escomb is long in proportion to its width; (2) the chancel is a rectangular eastern projection, narrower and much shorter than the nave; (3) there is a solid wall of division between nave and chancel, pierced by a narrow arch, broader than that of bradford, but very much higher in proportion to its width. it may be added that the walls of both churches are high in proportion to their length and breadth, and that at escomb the original windows are small openings with rounded and flat lintel-heads, and with internal splays. § 13. it is, however, with the plan that we are concerned. we now have met with three separate forms in england, viz. (1) the rare basilican plan; (2) the "kentish" plan of aisleless nave with apsidal chancel; (3) the plan of aisleless nave with rectangular chancel. we also have seen that the screen-wall is common to (1) and (2), while the single chancel arch belongs to (3); and that side chapels and western porches are found incidentally in (2) and (3). now, the early date of escomb, apart from the evidence supplied by its masonry, can be suspected only by its analogy to the plan of other churches of which the date is practically certain. two such churches remain in the same county of durham. one is at monkwearmouth, now a part of sunderland. its nave and the lowest stage of its western tower represent, and in great part actually are, the nave and western porch of an early saxon church, which is generally identified with the church built here by benedict biscop for the monastery which he founded in 672 a.d. the nave was originally aisleless, long, narrow and lofty: the entrance porch had an upper story finished with a gabled roof, and a vaulted ground-floor with entrances on three sides. there was evidently a chancel arch, and probably the chancel was rectangular. the material of the building was not roman; but, in the decoration applied to it, roman work was imitated. only a few miles further north, benedict founded, in 680 a.d., the sister monastery of jarrow. the long and narrow chancel of the present church of st paul was the body of a church somewhat similar to that of monkwearmouth. stone-work which may represent the jambs of a broad chancel arch can be traced in the east wall; but this cannot be stated with positive certainty. the lower part of the tower, now between the present chancel and nave, may represent an original western porch; but, in its present state, it is of much later date than the work east of it, and its site must have been broadened when the tower was first planned. at jarrow there is no roman stone-work; but one type of roman masonry has been imitated by the builders in the walls of the chancel, and small decorative shafts, turned in a lathe after the roman fashion, such as exist at monkwearmouth, have been found in the building. the inscribed stone, recording the dedication of the church, is preserved in the wall above the western tower-arch: the date given is 23 april, 684 a.d. in this inscription the building, though aisleless, is called a basilica. the word was now probably used to signify a christian church, irrespective of its plan. a third early church in this district is that of corbridge, near hexham. here, as at monkwearmouth, the ground story of the tower was originally a western porch; while the lofty arch between tower and nave is, like the chancel arch at escomb, entirely composed of dressed roman masonry, and seems to have been removed from one of the buildings of the roman station of corstopitum, as the arch at escomb was probably removed from the not far distant station of vinovium. § 14. the date to which these four northern churches may be assigned is the half century of the activity of st wilfrid in england (664-709 a.d.). bede's account of the architectural work of wilfrid's friend, benedict biscop, shows that he procured, for the building of the church at monkwearmouth, stonemasons and glaziers from gaul, who were acquainted with "the manner of the romans." the account which another contemporary, eddius, gives of wilfrid's church at hexham, is clear proof that this important building was a reproduction, in plan and elevation, of the aisled basilicas of the continent--a fact in keeping with wilfrid's life-long aim of bringing english christianity into closer touch with the main current of historic christianity in rome and gaul. the foundations of the outer walls of most of wilfrid's church were uncovered when, lately, the new nave of hexham priory church was begun; but one of its features has been long known, and is of the highest interest. the crypt for relics below the apse and high altar consists of an oblong chamber, with a western vestibule, approached by a straight stairway from the nave. in addition to the western stair, there are two stairs which communicated with the apse. that on the south side remains perfect, and ends in a passage and vestibule, through which the relic-chamber is entered. the northern stairway leads through a passage to the western vestibule, at the foot of the stair from the nave. the crypt of wilfrid's contemporary basilica at ripon also remains: here the arrangement is less complicated; but the arrangement of the main relic-chamber is equally the chief feature of the plan. § 15. the foundations of the saxon church at peterborough present many difficulties, and may be of a later date than the foundation of the monastery in 655 a.d. but no such difficulties of date or plan exist with regard to the large saxon church at brixworth, between northampton and market harborough. its size and the fact that roman material has been much re-used in its building have given rise to the tradition that it is a secular basilica applied to the purposes of a christian church. as a matter of fact, the roman brick-work has been re-used in obvious ignorance of roman methods; so that this circumstance alone would make the legend improbable. the date of the building can hardly be earlier than about 680 a.d., when a monastery was founded here by a colony of monks from peterborough. the plan originally consisted of (1) a western entrance porch, with a lofty western doorway, and smaller doorways on north and south; (2) a broad nave, divided from the aisles by arches, which spring from large square piers of plain brick-work; (3) a rectangular presbytery, divided from the nave by a screen-wall pierced with three arches; (4) an apsidal chancel, entered from the presbytery by a single arch. on each side of the chancel arch, a doorway entered into a narrow vaulted passage below the ground level, which probably formed an aisle round a crypt below the apse. at a later date, probably in the period of quiet following the later danish invasions, the apse seems to have been rebuilt, polygonal externally, semi-circular on the inside, and the central crypt-chamber was then possibly filled up. the western porch was also used as the foundation for a tower, and the western arch blocked up with a filling containing a lower doorway, through which the circular turret for the tower-stair was entered. the aisles, either then or at a somewhat later date, having probably fallen into ruin, were removed. the clerestory of the nave remains, with unusually broad round-headed windows. § 16. the original plan of brixworth has points in common with some of the other plans which have been noted. in its triple arched screen-wall it recalls the kentish type of church; its rectangular presbytery between nave and apse is a development of the chancel space which existed west of the spring of the apse at st pancras. it shares its western porch with st pancras and two, if not four, of the northern group of churches. in the north and south doorways of this porch it has kinship with monkwearmouth, and at brixworth there are definite signs that these doorways led into passages which may have been connected with other buildings of the monastery, or possibly even with an _atrium_ or fore-court. the aisled nave and the traces of a crypt bring it into relation, not merely with hexham or ripon, but with the historical church plan of western europe generally. at the same time, the plan, regarded as that of an english church, is exceptional. the aisled plan of the parish church was arrived at in spite, not in consequence, of the few early aisled churches which might have supplied it with a model. during the epoch which followed the danish invasions the aisleless plan was deliberately preferred: the rectangular chancel entirely superseded the apse. no further example of the structural screen-wall occurs. in addition to those mentioned, only three more pre-conquest examples of crypts are known, and such crypts as occur in parish churches after the conquest are exceptional, and are usually due to exigencies of site. only three more aisled churches of unquestionably pre-conquest date exist above ground. reculver has been mentioned. the others are lydd in kent, where only indications of an arcade remain, and the complete basilican church of wing, near leighton buzzard, which has a polygonal apse with a crypt below. wing is probably much later in date than most of brixworth, but one cannot but be struck by a certain resemblance in construction between the two naves, and in plan between the crypt at wing and the remains of the crypt at brixworth. § 17. these early churches have been treated at some length, because they contain certain essential elements of planning in a state of probation. the basilican plan was doubtless the ideal of english builders during the sixth and early seventh centuries, but an ideal which was hard to compass where good building material was not plentiful. thus augustine and his companions contented themselves in most instances with a plan which recalled the aisled basilica, without following out its more elaborate details. it is remarkable that they should have departed from the usual roman custom, and made their chancels at the east end of their churches: it is also remarkable to find at st pancras the western porch, the origin of which appears to be the non-roman _narthex_. models existed, no doubt in the ruins of the romano-british churches, which they repaired; and we have seen that at silchester there is a regular _narthex_, while, on the other hand, there is a western apse. these models, however, were probably all of one general type, in which the chancel end was formed by an apsidal projection. when roman christianity reached the north, it had to contend with the efforts of celtic missionaries; and those efforts were not met by it effectively until, in 664, the energetic leadership of wilfrid secured a triumph for his party at the council of whitby. of the celtic churches of the north we know but little: it seems likely that they were for the most part plain oratories of stone or wood, with or without a separate chancel. the simplest form, obviously, which a church can assume is a plain rectangle with an altar at one end. as the desirability of a special enclosure for the altar is recognised, a smaller rectangle will be added at the altar end of the main building, and so the distinction between nave and chancel will be formed. there are indications of this natural growth of plan in some of the early religious buildings in ireland. in remote districts, as in wales, the simple nave and chancel plan is general all through the middle ages; and the smaller country churches often follow the common celtic plan of a single rectangle with no structural division. the ruined chapel at heysham in lancashire, a work of early date, is an undivided rectangle in plan. this is the form which would suggest itself naturally to the unskilled builder: the division of nave and chancel into a larger and smaller rectangle is the next step which would occur to his intelligence in the ordinary course of things. it is possible that wilfrid and benedict biscop found that their aims would be best served by adhering in certain instances to the familiar celtic plan, and so, while they hired foreign masons and craftsmen to build and furnish their earlier churches, and to set the example of building stone churches after the manner of the romans, they were careful to avoid the prejudice which insistence on a new plan would have excited. the simplicity, moreover, of a plan like that at escomb, which requires little architectural skill to work upon, may have been a recommendation; and the fact that the construction of an apse is more difficult than that of a rectangular chancel must have weighed powerfully with english masons, both at this time and later. the fact remains that, in the early age of our church architecture in stone, the aisled basilica was a rare exception, and the rectangular chancel was, in the north, at least as common as the apse. chapter ii parish churches of the later saxon period § 18. in later saxon churches the aisleless plan and the rectangular chancel were normal. instances of an aisled plan after the seventh century have been noted already: it has been seen that there are only two definite examples, and, although there may be indications of others, these are few and far between and uncertain. the apsidal chancel again is exceedingly rare. we have noted it in combination with other basilican features at wing: the instances in which it occurs again are very few, and in these, as in the important monastic church of deerhurst, there are other variations from the aisleless plan. in by far the largest number of examples, the plan adhered to was that simple one of which we have a complete prototype at escomb. late saxon fabrics which remain free of later additions are few; but there is a considerable number of churches which still keep the quoins of an aisleless saxon nave _in situ_, although aisles have been added during the twelfth or thirteenth centuries. such are st mary-le-wigford and st peter-at-gowts at lincoln, bracebridge in the western suburb of lincoln, st benet's at cambridge, and wittering, near stamford. at winterton in lincolnshire large pieces of the western part of both walls of the nave were kept as an abutment to the tower, when aisles were added. sometimes, as at geddington and brigstock in northamptonshire, the whole wall above the nave arcades is the upper part of the wall of the aisleless building; and instances in which blocked window openings, of a not improbably pre-conquest date, remain in walls that have subsequently been pierced with arcades, are exceedingly common. if an untouched saxon nave is a rare thing, an unaltered saxon chancel is obviously rarer. the small rectangular chancel of the large medieval church at repton, in derbyshire, is practically unique; it was probably preserved for the sake of the crypt beneath, which, at first a plain rectangular chamber, was subsequently, but still in pre-conquest times, vaulted in compartments supported by columns. but at sidbury in devon, where there is a small rectangular crypt, the chancel above was rebuilt in the twelfth, and lengthened in the thirteenth century, without any reference to the line of the walls of the crypt below it. a good example of an unaltered late saxon fabric is the church of coln rogers in gloucestershire. here the western tower, built up inside the nave, is a later addition, but the nave, rectangular chancel, and arch between them, are still intact. the chancel arch, though by no means broad, is yet much wider than those at escomb and bradford-on-avon; and its width probably represents the normal width of a chancel arch of this period. § 19. an addition occurs in most of these late saxon plans, which had a great influence on the subsequent, and even on the contemporary, development of the church plan. we have noted that at rome and ravenna towers formed no part of the original basilican plan, but were added later as _campanili_. in england it appears that the tower formed no part of the plan until, at any rate, the epoch of the danish wars. western bell-towers were very general by the beginning of the eleventh century. in most of these towers, the ground floor forms an entrance porch; but it does not follow that the western tower in england was generated by the heightening of the western porch. the porches of brixworth and monkwearmouth were probably not heightened until the western tower had come into existence elsewhere. an origin for the western tower has been sought in the fore-buildings which occur in some of the early german churches, and contain separate upper chambers. it may be that, derived from this source, the western tower superseded the porch, and, where porches existed, they were adapted to the new fashion. § 20. the towers of earl's barton, barnack, and st peter's at barton-on-humber, are perhaps the most obviously interesting relics of saxon architecture which we possess. all are much larger in area than the normal western tower of the later saxon period. earl's barton is a western tower, and its ground floor has probably always served as a porch: the rest of the church, however, is a medieval building of various periods. at barnack, again, the complete plan of the saxon church has been lost. here, however, the western tower was something more than a porch. the doorway is not in the west, but in the south wall; and in the west wall, inside the church, is a niche with a triangular head, which was certainly neither doorway nor window, but a seat. whether this implies that the ground floor of the tower was used for special religious functions, or for some purpose connected with the common life of the parish, is not clear; but it shows, at any rate, that there was some good reason for the unusually roomy planning of the tower. we stand on firmer ground at barton-on-humber. here, again, a large medieval church exists to the east of the tower. but upon its western side is a small rectangular building of contemporary date, which was not a porch in front of the tower, but a westward extension of the body of the church, the main entrances being on either side of the tower. the foundations of a similar projecting building have been discovered to the east of the tower, beneath the floor of the later nave. it is therefore clear that the ground floor of the tower, or rather of a high tower-like building, formed the body of the church, and that the eastern projection was the chancel. there are clear indications at broughton, also in north lincolnshire, that this plan was used, at any rate, once again. the tower at broughton is obviously later than that at barton: the doorway, whose details are of a post-conquest character, is in the south wall; and a large circular stair-turret, like that at brixworth, projects from the west wall. probably there was only a chancel here, and no western annexe to correspond. a similar stair-turret occurs at hough-on-the-hill, between grantham and lincoln: the tower, now western, has a doorway in the south wall, and probably stands mid-way in date between barton and broughton. it is planned on a very ample scale, with thin walls and a large floor-space. the main fabric of the church is altogether of a later date; and there are no indications, at any rate above ground, of an earlier building east of the tower. the size of the tower, the provision of a stair-turret, as at broughton, to leave the ground floor clear, suggest that here we may have a third example of the plan in which the tower covered the main body of the church. the arrangement at barnack gives grounds for a suspicion of something of the same kind there. in all these cases the tower has been a tower from the beginning; but at barton-on-humber the uppermost stage was added towards the end of the saxon period. [illustration: fig. 4. st peter's, barton-on-humber: from s.w.] § 21. in these buildings we seem to discover the influence of the centralised plan, acting through the channel of german art. it would be absurd to say that the plan of barton-on-humber was inspired by the plan of the palace-church at aachen, which was an adaptation, with some improvement, of the plan of san vitale at ravenna. no masterly intellectual effort, such as the aachen plan shows, was necessary to plan a rectangle with two smaller rectangles at either end. but the church at aachen had made the centralised plan familiar to the builders of western europe. in germany and in france there are traces of its influence; and we may reasonably suppose that the builders of barton-on-humber were acquainted with the existence of an alternative to the usual plan of the church with a longitudinal axis, and did not arrive by haphazard at their concentration of the plan upon a central point. one earlier example of the centralised plan is known to have existed in england. in addition to his basilica at hexham, wilfrid had built another church there in the shape of a greek cross. the description of it which we possess shows that the central space was the actual church, that it was tower-like in form, and nearly circular in shape, and that the arms were simply porch-like projections. probably it was a combination of baptistery with tomb-church. it is not likely that the simple plan of barton was derived from that at hexham. both were probably the result of continental influence; but, while the church at hexham may have been the work of gallo-roman masons in direct communication with the general current of architectural progress, the church at barton was probably built by englishmen, who adapted the centralised plan to methods natural to their comparative want of skill. § 22. neither at this time nor later did the centralised plan in england develop along the lines suggested by barton-on-humber. no real development on such lines was possible. in germany, the achievement at aachen made possible the polygonal nave of st gereon at cologne and the centralised plan of the liebfrauenkirche at trier, as well as many twelfth and thirteenth century churches whose complicated parts are planned and massed together with relation to a central tower space. in england, however, the habit of dealing with circular or polygonal forms made little progress; and our few "round churches," the plan of the naves of which was a devout imitation of the church of the holy sepulchre at jerusalem, and our polygonal chapter houses, are almost all that we have to show in the way of attempts at a definitely centralised plan. our church plan develops as the result of an effort to combine a series of rectangles effectively; and, while this combination can be attempted in several different ways, it is obvious that the rigid lines of the rectangle do not admit of that free scope in centralised planning which is given by the circle or polygon. § 23. we have seen, however, that, even in the earliest days, there was a tendency to admit additions to the simple longitudinal plan, which, in process of time, were bound to give birth, if not to a definitely centralised plan, to something, at any rate, in which a central point counted for much. a feature of the early cathedral and of st pancras at canterbury, was the projection of _porticus_, porches or side chapels, from the nave. these were entered by archways pierced in the centre of the lateral walls. in the cathedral they had outer doorways, and formed the main entrances of the church, on the north from the monastery, on the south from the city. the south porch contained the altar of st gregory, and, as eadmer tells us, was used as a court of justice to which litigants, in process of time, resorted from every part of england. in the north porch, dedicated to st martin, was held the school of the monastery. upon both porches towers were built at a date which cannot be ascertained, but was probably later than the time of augustine. of the use of the porches at st pancras, which did not contain outer doorways, it is impossible to say anything definitely. entrance porches, of which one remains, projected from the sides of the church at bradford-on-avon: the outer and inner doorways of the north porch are extremely narrow, and are placed west of the centre of its north and south walls. it is possible, therefore, that there was an altar in this porch, so that it served the double purpose of entrance porch and side chapel. § 24. as time went on, the western porch beneath the tower was disused as a public entrance. the principal entrance of most churches is on the south side, west of the centre of the aisle wall, and is usually covered by a porch. there is a saxon example of this at bishopstone in sussex, where, as at bradford, room seems to have been left for an altar on the east side. however, the main entrance of the ordinary saxon church was at the west end, through the ground floor of the tower. the porch in the lateral wall seems to have been regarded primarily as a side chapel; and in some later saxon churches the porches were dissociated from lateral doorways, and were planned as closed projections from the eastern part of the north and south walls of the nave. this seems to have happened at britford, near salisbury, where archways remain on both sides near the east end of the nave. at deerhurst square projections were entered from both sides of the nave, immediately west of the chancel arch; and it is probable that there were somewhat similar projections at repton. at worth in sussex, where the north and south doorways of the nave are saxon, and there is no western entrance or original tower, there are large saxon chapels projecting from the eastern part of the nave, and entered by wide arches. the cruciform plan is sufficiently marked in the conjectural restorations of deerhurst and repton. at worth it is quite unmistakable. § 25. at worth, however, in spite of the dignity of the lateral arches, the chapels are still porch-like excrescences, larger in scale than usual, but lower in elevation than the nave. in elevation their transept-like appearance is less noticeable than on plan. moreover, the length of the nave remains unbroken from west wall to chancel arch: no central space is marked off to which these transeptal projections give emphasis. nevertheless, a suggestion of an intermediate space between nave and chancel is given; and this space is definitely marked in the plans of churches which may be quite as early in date as worth--_i.e._ about the first half of the eleventh century--by the admission of a tower between nave and chancel. the eastern part of the walls of the nave at st mary's in dover castle are continued upwards as a tower, with small rectangular chapels projecting from the sides of the ground floor. externally, no division between the tower and nave is noticeable; but, inside the church, in addition to the chancel arch and the arches into the chapels, a fourth arch is pierced in the western wall of the tower, and so an intermediate space between tower and nave is effectually created. at breamore in hants, a further step is taken. the tower space, between nave and chancel, is of the same width as the nave; but, in addition to the necessary internal division, an external division is also marked by the quoins of the tower, which are complete to the ground. only one chapel remains at breamore, on the south of the tower, entered by a narrow saxon archway; but there was originally another on the north. § 26. the chapels which project from these early "central" towers are, it is to be noted, not true transepts. they are narrower than the tower, which is built up from the ground, and not upon a system of piers and arches which require lateral abutments in the form of transepts. the western tower is transferred, as it were, to a point near the centre of the church, assumes the width of the nave, and is provided with transeptal excrescences, to communicate with which its side walls are pierced. such excrescences are not necessary. at stanton lacy, in shropshire, there is only one. at dunham magna, in norfolk, and other places, such as waith in lincolnshire, there are, or were originally, none at all. the construction of the "central" tower upon piers connected by arches was beyond the skill of the ordinary saxon builder; and its natural consequence, the development of the full cruciform plan, with transepts of the height and width of nave and chancel, was thus out of his reach. we know, from contemporary evidence, that one important abbey church, that of ramsey, had a central tower which was built upon piers and arches as early as 974 a.d.; and perhaps this was the case in other large churches. but, even in the large church of stow in lincolnshire, which is commonly taken on trust, without sufficient historical evidence, as the cathedral church of the saxon diocese of lindsey, although an advance in transeptal construction was made, the main principle was imperfectly grasped. this church was made the home of a community of clergy about the beginning of the reign of edward the confessor, by leofric, earl of mercia, and his wife godiva. it was restored after the conquest by rémi, the first norman bishop of lincoln. the aisleless nave and chancel are norman work of two periods: probably the nave was rebuilt upon saxon foundations. the transepts, however, of considerable length and equal height with nave and chancel, were retained from the pre-conquest building. the tall jambs of the arches of the central tower also remain on all four sides. the arches which they bear are of early norman character; and the present tower is a late gothic structure, the arches and piers of which are built up on the inner side of the older masonry. but the saxon tower space, including the area of the arch-jambs, is rather wider than the arms of the cross which project from it. the tower formed a separate building, with quoins complete from the ground, and nave, chancel, and transepts, instead of combining to support it, were mere excrescences from it, entered by arches in its walls. possibly the example of barton-on-humber may have had to do with this treatment of the tower as a separate central pavilion, which may have been deliberately preferred to the arch and pier treatment. in other respects the plan is an advance upon the plans of dover and breamore. and the necessary advance upon stow is found in the church of norton-on-tees in south durham. here the tower, between nave and chancel, rests on piers connected by arches. the arches have been widened; two have been entirely rebuilt at a later date; and the rest of the church has been subjected at different times to enlargement and rebuilding. in spite of this, we have at norton our earliest surviving example of a plan in which the various portions of the church--nave, chancel, and transepts--are gathered together in one structural connexion. the tower is to the east of the centre of the longitudinal axis of the church; but structurally, it is the central point with regard to which the building is planned, and the unity of the composition depends upon it. § 27. we have arrived thus at a centralised plan of cruciform shape, of which the component parts are rectangular, the central space being approximately a square. the examples which have been given cannot be proved to follow one another in chronological order, but they represent successive steps in planning and construction, of which norton-on-tees is the highest. the importance of the inclusion of the tower in the plan is obvious. in its early appearances, its position is unsettled, but the natural tendency is to place it above a main entrance; and this is usually at the west end of the building. where the builders aim at a simple centralised plan, the high central rectangle will form, like the round or octagonal central space of wilfrid's church of st mary at hexham, _ecclesia ... in modum turris erecta_, and, as at barton-on-humber, will possibly be heightened by a later generation into a real tower. the distinction of the side chapel from the entrance porches, becoming more fully recognised, will lead to the building of transeptal chapels at the east end of the nave; and thus an important addition will be made to the ordinary longitudinal plan. the need of some central building, against which these additions may abut, will be felt. the tower will thus be introduced between nave and chancel, either as an independent structure, or as an upward extension of part of the side walls. the transepts thus, as at stow, can be raised to an equal height with nave and chancel. from this to a plan in which the component parts are recognised as interdependent, and are closely knit together in structural unity, is an obvious step. at this point, architectural skill, as distinct from mere building ingenuity, comes into play. § 28. as we proceed, we shall find survivals of old plans, even at an advanced period in the middle ages, which prove that progress in architecture was by no means of an uniform kind. builders in remote, and especially in hilly, districts, from saxon times to the present day, have naturally restricted themselves to plans which require as little cost as possible to carry out. local building material is also an important consideration. in districts where good building stone is to be obtained on the spot, or where money is plentiful and water carriage is possible, the development of plan is naturally rapid, and every fifty years or so, additions to churches will be made in which the old plan will become entirely transformed. in woodland districts, the plan will be controlled to no small extent by the requirements of timber construction. in such regions, saxon churches were probably built of wood. the only wooden church of saxon times which remains is that of greenstead in south essex, with a rectangular chancel and aisleless nave constructed of vertical logs placed side by side, and framed originally into a timber plinth. however, it may be stated as a general rule, that, whatever may be the helps or hindrances to development provided by local materials, the real starting-point of the parish church plan of the middle ages is in every part of the country an aisleless plan; and that this plan consists either of a nave and chancel with a longitudinal axis, or of a nave and chancel whose longitudinal axis is intersected by a transverse axis across transepts. variations, no doubt, occur; but these will never carry us far from one or other of these fundamental plans. the aisled basilica of the continent found no scope for itself in saxon england; and it was through an interval of aisleless building that the aisled plan eventually became acclimatised, and then in a form which bears only a superficial kinship to the basilican plan. chapter iii the aisleless church of the norman period § 29. during the century after the norman conquest, the great abbey churches and cathedrals represent the work of a foreign architectural school, gradually acclimatising itself in england; while, on the other hand, the parish church continued to be planned by local men, open to receive the improvements which more skilled foreign masons had introduced. consequently, while local art received a continually increasing refinement, the plan of the church developed upon traditional lines, and not upon those novel lines which foreign masons would have laid down for it. the chief proof of this is seen in the persistence of the aisleless plan with rectangular chancel and western tower. the tendency of a norman builder would be to design his church with an apsidal chancel, transepts, and a central tower; his practice would vary, but this would be his favourite plan. on the other hand, the rectangular chancel and western tower remained the favourite terminations of the parish church in england. but, while a large number of rubble-built, unbuttressed norman towers, usually heightened or otherwise altered in the later middle ages, remain in many parts of england, their relation to the plan suffers some change. the ground floor of the saxon tower was, as we have noticed, the main entrance to the church. the norman western tower either contained no western doorway at all, or provided merely an entrance, which was used only on special occasions. at caistor the ground floor was probably the main porch of the aisleless church; and there are exceptional instances, as at finchingfield in essex, where, in fairly advanced norman work, the same arrangement was clearly contemplated. on the other hand, at laceby, between caistor and grimsby, a south doorway, coeval with the western tower, has always been the main entrance to the church. similarly, at hooton pagnell, and at blatherwycke in northamptonshire, south doorways, of the same age as the tower, form the chief entrance. these last three are early norman examples; but we may go back even further, to find the same thing in churches which are usually reckoned as late saxon work, at heapham in lincolnshire, and kirk hammerton, between york and boroughbridge. in south yorkshire there are a few churches of the middle of the twelfth century whose western towers are noticeably derived, in their plan and general construction, from the saxon type--birkin, brayton, and riccall. but in all three, the main entrance to the church was made through a south doorway, the arch of which is covered with elaborate late norman ornaments. the western tower was thus reduced to the state of a bell-tower at one end of the church, and, while increasing in size and in magnificence, was actually a less indispensable part of the plan than before. [illustration: fig. 5. aisleless plan: 12th century.] § 30. the nave of the norman aisleless church was usually short, and, where the church was entirely rebuilt, rather wide in proportion to its length. the naves of churches like garton-on-the-wolds or kirkburn in yorkshire, give the effect of spacious halls, of no great length, but wide and lofty. it cannot be doubted, however, that the fabric of the saxon church was frequently kept, or that the church was rebuilt upon saxon foundations. it is not unusual, as already stated, to find saxon quoins still existing at the angles of naves to which aisles have subsequently been added. evidences, on the other hand, of the westward lengthening of a saxon nave in the norman period appear to be rare. at north witham in south lincolnshire, the south and (blocked) north doorways are norman work, in the usual position near the west end of the nave. east of them, however, in the centre of the nave walls, there are distinct traces of the inner openings of a north and south doorway, which may belong to the late saxon period. that we have here a case of the twelfth century lengthening of an earlier nave may be inferred. the probability is increased by the fact that, in the neighbouring church of colsterworth, where aisles were added during the early norman period to a late saxon fabric, the nave and aisles, towards the end of the twelfth century, were certainly extended a bay westward. as little architectural work is done without a precedent, we may assume that the builders at colsterworth were following the example of north witham. § 31. the great majority of norman rectangular chancels have been lengthened and enlarged; for the plain "altar-house" at the east end of the nave was too small for the purposes of the ritual of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, and afforded no intermediate space between nave and chancel. however, short and approximately square chancels were by no means invariable; and, before the middle of the twelfth century, oblong chancels of considerable length in proportion to their width were being built. there is a good early twelfth century example at moor monkton, in the ainsty of york; and the chancel of the middle of the twelfth century at earl's barton, northants, is of considerable depth, and was of ample size for all later purposes. at earl's barton the eastern portion was the chancel proper; while the western portion supplied that space for a quire which was not provided in less elongated plans. in by far the larger number of cases, the rectangular chancel had a wooden roof. there is, however, a fair number of churches in which the system of ribbed vaulting, as employed in larger buildings, was used. thus at heddon-on-the-wall, northumberland, there is a small square chancel with a ribbed vault. at warkworth, there is a long vaulted chancel of two bays, built during the first quarter of the twelfth century; and at tickencote, rutland, two bays are combined in one by the use of sexpartite vaulting. in these cases the chancel arches are wide, forming the western transverse arches of the vaulting: that at tickencote is of remarkable magnificence. § 32. there are certain cases in which the chancel was of the same width as the nave, and no structural division existed between them. at askham bryan and at the chapel of copmanthorpe, near york, the plan, externally and internally, is a plain undivided oblong. at tansor, northants, the chancel was rebuilt about 1140, when the side walls were set back in a line with those of the nave. in st mary's in the castle at leicester, the long and very narrow nave was, as may still be clearly seen, continued eastward without a break into the long and narrow quire and chancel. here the eastern half was used, no doubt, by the college of dean and canons, while the western half was the parish church. the beautiful church of st peter, northampton, built towards the end of the third quarter of the twelfth century, gives us a complete example of an undivided plan, aisled throughout save in the eastern bay, which forms a projecting chancel east of the aisles of the choir. § 33. hitherto we have dealt merely with the rectangular chancel. but there are also churches which end in an eastern apse. these are comparatively few and exceptional. in yorkshire, where the number of norman rectangular chancels is large, and buildings such as adel exhibit the aisleless church in its highest state of architectural development, the number of apsidal chancels can be counted on the fingers of one hand. in sussex, where caen stone was largely used, and we should expect foreign influence to be noticeable, the proportion of apsidal chancels is small. in gloucestershire, the cotswold district contains several small norman churches, which have been little altered: the rectangular chancel is universal. these are typical districts; and, to state a general rule, we may say that, while the apsidal chancel is foreign to no part of england, and occurs in unexpected places, as in the chapel of old bewick, northumberland, it is never general in any single region. its rarity is an important fact. were our parish churches the work of masons sent out from the larger churches and monasteries, we should expect to find it a common feature; for in those buildings the apsidal plan prevailed. but, in the hands of local masons, its sparing employment is easily explained. to build an apse needs skill, not only in planning, but in stone-cutting. the question of vaulting the apse increases the difficulty and the expense. these difficulties would not trouble masons who had worked at the building of durham or ely or winchester; nor would expense trouble the monasteries, which, according to the popular idea, were so ready to lavish money on the fabrics of parish churches. many apsidal chancels have disappeared, no doubt; but, if we take the bulk of those which remain into account, we shall find that they have a habit of occurring in small groups, as in berkshire, where three occur together within a single old rural deanery, and that the large majority of the churches in which they are found were not monastic property. a few belonged to preceptories of knights templars in their neighbourhood; and perhaps we may see in their apses a reference to the circular form of the holy sepulchre. but, as a rule, we may say that a band of masons in certain neighbourhoods developed some skill in building apses, that money was forthcoming, and that so a few examples came into existence. in one curious instance, langford in essex, which is within easy distance of four or five other apsed churches, there is an apse at the west, and there are foundations of another at the east end of the building. for this church a saxon origin has been claimed: the plan, at any rate, indicates a survival of a plan once common in western christendom, and especially in the german provinces. in apsed churches, like birkin in yorkshire, the apse does not spring from points directly east of the chancel arch. the arch is wide and lofty; behind it is a nearly square rectangular space, which is divided from the apse by another arch. at birkin the apse has ribbed vaulting, which allows the walls to be pierced freely for windows. at copford in essex, old bewick, and other places, the roof is a half-dome without ribs: this allows for the display of mural painting, but admits of less light. [illustration: fig. 6. birkin, yorkshire: interior.] § 34. the most important feature in the apsidal plan is the provision of the distinctly marked quire space between the nave and chancel. this space also occurs in plans where the chancel is rectangular; but in such cases it becomes the ground story of a tower. there are famous examples of this at iffley, near oxford, and studland in dorset, where the chancels are vaulted. coln st denis in gloucestershire, where the tower is of very wide area, and projects noticeably north and south of nave and chancel; and christon in somerset, are further instances of the plan. the tower between nave and chancel, without transepts, is seldom found in an apsidal plan. it occurs at newhaven in sussex, where there is a small apse. here the plan is virtually that of some small parish churches in normandy, such as yainville, near jumièges. the majority of such plans in england, however, end in a rectangular chancel. precedent for the plan is, as we have seen, to be found in saxon churches. at st pancras, canterbury, we have noticed the westward prolongation of the apse: at brixworth a definite presbytery or quire space was planned, on a large scale, between apse and nave. in later saxon churches, where the chancel was rectangular, a tower, with or without transeptal chapels, was sometimes built between nave and chancel; and here, although externally the division was not always clearly marked, an internal quire space was divided off from the nave by the western arch of the tower. the aisleless plan, therefore, with a tower above the quire, and a rectangular chancel, points to a development along old-fashioned lines, even in churches in which, as at iffley, the builders have acquired great skill in expressing themselves in norman terms. in certain districts, as in gloucestershire, this plan was a favourite one. even in the fourteenth century, leckhampton church, near cheltenham, was rebuilt in faithful adherence to this tradition. here the tower is narrower than the small chancel, and the nave has a south aisle. [illustration: fig. 7. two aisleless plans with central tower: (1) tower between nave and chancel; (2) tower over crossing of transepts with nave and chancel.] § 35. in the cases of dover, breamore, stow, and norton, we have watched the gradual evolution of the cruciform plan with central tower. it must be noted once more that to the cruciform plan the central tower built on piers and arches is essential. it is possible, as in the gloucestershire churches of almondsbury and avening, to pierce the north and south walls of a tower and add transeptal chapels: the plan will have a cruciform appearance, but will still be only an elongated plan with lateral additions. it is possible, in a church where there is no central tower at all, to extend the side walls at right angles north and south, and so form transepts; but here again the transepts have no structural reference to a central point in the plan, but are mere widenings of the nave or aisles. the thirteenth century aisleless churches of potterne, in wiltshire, and acton burnell, in shropshire, are both cruciform in plan. the church at potterne was planned throughout with reference to the crossing of transepts, nave, and quire, above which its central tower rose: the tower space is the central point of the whole. but, at acton burnell, there is no central tower or space: the body of the church consists of a long aisleless nave and an aisleless chancel beyond; and the transeptal chapels are simply stuck on, as it were, to the eastern part of either wall of the nave. this is at once noticeable in elevation, when the chapels are seen to be mere excrescences, with roofs lower than the nave. moreover, where there is a true central crossing, with a tower above, such as we find in almost all our cathedrals, a transept on either side is necessary for the support of the tower. the transepts need not be wholly symmetrical, although in most cases they are; but they must be there. on the other hand, where there is no central tower, and the crossing is merely apparent, symmetry of treatment is quite unnecessary. while there are two transeptal chapels of similar size at acton burnell, or at achurch in northamptonshire, there are far more instances in which a less regular treatment was adopted. thus, at childs wickham in gloucestershire, and montacute in somerset, there is only one transeptal chapel, in each case on the north side. at corbridge in northumberland, transeptal chapels, extended outwards from the aisle walls, are of different lengths. at medbourne in leicestershire, a long aisleless transeptal chapel was built out from the north side of the nave in the thirteenth century. within the next fifty years a south chapel was built, but, instead of copying the proportions of the northern chapel symmetrically, the builders gave their new chapel a much greater width, and placed its altars in an eastern aisle. the plan is thus accidentally cruciform. at acton burnell and achurch it is, no doubt, designedly cruciform; at montacute and childs wickham, imperfectly cruciform. but all three varieties belong to one class, the longitudinal plan with transeptal extensions. the structural feature which makes the truly cruciform plan, the central tower upon arches and piers, is wanting. and this distinction between churches planned from a centre, and churches whose plan follows a longitudinal axis, although often overlooked, is essential. [illustration: fig. 8. north newbald, yorkshire: tower arches, chancel and s. transept, from n.w.] § 36. a noble example of a norman cruciform church, whose plan has suffered little alteration, exists at north newbald in the east riding of yorkshire. at each angle of the crossing are masses of shafted piers, connected by wide and lofty rounded arches. the nave, as is usual, is the longest arm of the four, so that the plan is a latin cross. it has north and south doorways: there are also doorways in the end walls of the transepts, placed in the western part of each wall. in the east wall of each transept is an arch, now blocked up, the filling being pierced with fifteenth century windows. these arches are the openings of original apses, which contained the transept altars. the chancel, probably always rectangular, was rebuilt in the fifteenth century. as a corollary of the true cruciform plan, the four arms are all of equal width. at bampton-in-the-bush, oxon, where the plan of the church was greatly altered in the thirteenth century by the addition of aisles, the norman plan was very similar to that of north newbald. the cruciform plan of melbourne, derbyshire, with its aisled nave, was probably inspired more directly by continental examples. the aisleless chancel was vaulted, and ended in an apse, which was squared in later times by the addition of a rectangular piece east of its springing points. out of the east walls of the short transepts opened wide apses, the walls of which joined the western ends of the walls of the chancel. thus, externally, the plan of the eastern part of the church was closely allied to the plan with three apses which, in some of our larger churches, was derived from normandy. at melbourne, however, there are important variations from this plan. the chancel is short, there are no quire aisles, and the transept apses were rounded externally. in the larger churches of normandy, the side apses were at the end of the quire aisles, and were usually squared externally, while the apses projecting from the east walls of the transepts, as at saint-georges-de-boscherville, were left rounded. at newbald and bampton there seems to have been no attempt to give complete unity of design, as at melbourne, to the rectangular chancel and transeptal apses. in any case, transeptal apses were the exception in the plans of our norman cruciform churches, although their convenience for holding altars is obvious. § 37. the cruciform plan, beautiful as it is, was never generally adopted. it was inconvenient for purposes of public worship, as long as the rounded arch remained fashionable. in our own day, even in churches where the central tower is carried on high pointed arches, and the view of the altar is practically unhindered, the chancel is cut off from the nave by the crossing, and the acoustic problem, which in modern church planning is so necessary a consideration, is almost insurmountable. in the middle ages, this problem was not so acute; but it was undesirable that the interior of the chancel should be nearly invisible from the nave. at newbald the tower arches are planned upon a liberal scale: at bampton, on the other hand, where the eastern tower arch is left, the others having been rebuilt in the thirteenth century, it is very low. the low tower arches at burford, oxon, and the narrow arches at st giles, northampton, are examples of the way in which the supports of the norman central tower interfered with the internal convenience of churches. it was not until much later that this difficulty was solved, and then only in one or two cases, when the cruciform plan had become exceptional. the plans of bampton, burford, and witney, show how the builders of west oxfordshire experimented in cruciform planning. the division between chancel and nave is felt much less at witney than in the other two churches; for the great thirteenth century tower and spire, resting upon massive piers joined by pointed arches, throw a considerable portion of their weight upon nave and transept arcades, whose exceptional massiveness gives unity to the whole design. in the fifteenth century, however, the rebuilders of the aisleless church of minster lovell, between witney and burford, solved the problem by removing the supports of their square central tower from the angles of the crossing to points entirely within the church, and building arches from the piers thus formed to the angles of the crossing. the comparatively light piers, instead of hindering the view, allow of easy access from the nave to the transepts, and there is hardly a point in the body of the church from which seeing and hearing alike are in any way impeded. with the earlier builders, however, the natural course was to leave the piers where they were, and endeavour to lighten them as far as possible; and, in aisled churches, the difficulties involved often led to the abandonment of the complete cruciform plan. § 38. the cruciform church gives occasion for a brief remark on one aspect of medieval building which is often exaggerated. the revival of interest in medieval architecture, in the early part of the nineteenth century, was accompanied by an insistence on symbolism in the plan and design of churches. a minute symbolism, which often was the fruit of pious imagination, or was derived from the fancies of post-medieval writers on ritual, was read into every detail of the medieval church fabric. it is true that, as has been said, some builders worked imaginatively, imitating in the round naves of a few churches the rotunda of the holy sepulchre. other instances of devout imitation might be found, if we looked for them. but the imitation of a concrete model is a different thing from translating abstract mysteries into the plan and elevation of a building. and, although the ground plan with nave, transepts, and chancel, certainly forms a cross; and, although, as time went on, the resemblance to the chief symbol of the christian faith was no doubt recognised and valued, the plan itself, as we have shown, came into being from entirely natural causes. where the central tower was introduced, the plan was dictated by structural necessity. where there was no central tower, transeptal chapels provided accommodation for altars, for which the body of the church afforded no convenience. in this and in other cases, medieval builders were impelled by practical common sense and the requirements of the services of the church; and symbolism, if it was a consideration at all, was purely secondary. chapter iv the aisled parish church i. nave, tower, and porches § 39. the variations of the aisleless plan, which have been indicated, are all of which it is capable. naturally, after the twelfth century, many aisleless churches were still built, and are common in country districts. in their humblest form we find them in the small churches of highland regions, the masonry of which is so rough that their date is often a matter of doubt. sometimes they have been rebuilt, with a lengthened chancel, as at west heslerton, near scarborough. in many instances, we have aisleless country churches rebuilt in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, with western towers. this, uncommon in no part of england, is especially common in norfolk and suffolk; and some of these churches, like ranworth in norfolk, have much dignity and spaciousness of proportion. in some late gothic churches the structural division between nave and chancel is left out, and the building has been deliberately planned as a spacious aisleless rectangle, of which the eastern bay is allotted to the chancel. this happens at temple balsall in warwickshire and the chapel of south skirlaugh in yorkshire. aisleless plans with one or two transeptal chapels are to be found all through the middle ages: acton burnell represents a thoroughly symmetrical employment of this type. on the other hand, aisleless cruciform plans with central towers are by no means common after the twelfth century. potterne is a perfect development of this plan in the thirteenth century. there is a complete aisleless cruciform plan at othery, near bridgwater, where the tall central tower is quite out of proportion to the humble church above which it rises, and has necessitated substantial outer buttressing. here probably the church was rebuilt on earlier foundations, transepts being possibly added. in many instances an aisleless cruciform church seems to have been rebuilt on the lines of a complete norman plan. this was with little doubt the case at acaster malbis, near york, where the church is planned with direct relation to the central space, but without a tower; and the foundations of earlier walls can be traced all round the building, at the foot of the walls built in the fourteenth century. the absence of the tower is an anomaly, but is one method of solving the problem of the connexion between nave and chancel in the cruciform plan. § 40. thus, if here and there we can detect novelties which make for improvements upon the aisleless plan, the plan itself is subject to no general development upon its own unelastic lines. the real course of development is to be traced in the gradual addition of aisles to the church. just as the basilica may have come into existence by the addition of aisles to an aisleless building, so the parish church was enlarged by the piercing of its walls for columns and arches, and the incorporation of aisles with the main building. the usefulness of aisles is at once apparent. they afford greater space for the distribution of the congregation. the aisleless church may be inconveniently crowded from wall to wall: on the other hand, where spaces are left between the nave and side walls, the congregation will mass itself in the nave, but the aisles will be left free until the nave is filled, and thus there will be free access through the side doorways for as long a time as possible. aisles also afford a clear space for processions, and allow them to turn inside the church at a certain point and without difficulty. in addition to this, aisles form a convenient situation for the smaller altars of a church, and, from an early date, were added with this view. § 41. a parish church usually contained more than one altar, even if served by a single priest. in the small aisleless church of patricio in breconshire, in addition to the altar in the chancel, there were two smaller altars, which still remain in place, on either side of the central doorway of the rood screen. such altars were dedicated in honour of various saints; and mass would be said at them on the festivals of those saints and on other occasions. the various popular devotions which came into being in the middle ages, led to the multiplication of special altars and chapels. in cathedral and abbey churches, where there were many priests, the provision of a number of altars was, from the first, a necessity. to this is due the adoption, from the beginning, of the aisled plan in our larger churches, where it is a direct inheritance from the basilican plan. at norwich and at gloucester, for instance, the apse was provided with an encircling aisle, which gave access to small apsidal chapels. the transepts also had eastern chapels ending in apses. at durham each transept had an eastern aisle, containing a row of such chapels; and the abnormal development of the transepts in thirteenth century churches, as at york, lincoln, and salisbury, and the occasional provision of an eastern transept, or of a great transverse eastern arm, like the nine altars at fountains and durham, was made with a view to the continually growing number of altars and daily masses. in cistercian abbeys, the churches of which were wholly devoted to the uses of the monastery, the aisles of the nave were divided into chapels by transverse walls. in the secular cathedral of chichester, where the aisles had to be left free, outer aisles, similarly divided, were made. great french cathedrals, like amiens, not only have a complicated series of chapels opening from the aisles of the apse, but have their naves lined with chapels, which were formed by removing the outer walls of the aisles to a level with the outer face of the buttresses. the ordinary parish church had no need of these elaborate arrangements, although in towns and in districts where money was plentiful and its possessors recognised its true source, plans hardly less spacious than those of the cathedral and monastery churches came into being. but it is obvious that, in a church where there were no more than two or three altars, space would be gained by removing them from the body of the church to the end of the aisles. in some twelfth century churches there were probably altars against the wall on either side of the narrow chancel arch; and, in later days, as at ranworth and patricio, when the rood screen filled the lower part of a broad arch, altars were placed against the screen. in the first case, the chancel arch might have been widened; in the second case, the sides of the screen would have been freed, by the addition of aisles into which the altars could have been removed. § 42. the most common plan of the aisled church is formed by an aisled nave with a long aisleless chancel, western tower, and south porch. so common is this that it may be spoken of as the normal plan of the larger english parish church. there must have been, we already have said, a very large number of aisleless churches in england at the time of the conquest. where norman builders reconstructed parish churches, they showed a distinct preference for the aisleless plan. but, in many churches, built about or soon after the beginning of the twelfth century, aisles were planned and executed. the walls of earlier churches were entirely taken down, and new arcades built in their place, not necessarily on the precise line of the old foundations. aisled twelfth century naves on a magnificent scale may be seen, for example, at melbourne in derbyshire, and sherburn-in-elmet, between york and leeds. both places were important episcopal residences: melbourne belonged to the bishops of carlisle; the manor of sherburn was the head of a barony of the archbishops of york, who, all through the middle ages, did much to promote architecture on their domains. another twelfth century nave of great magnificence is that of norham-on-tweed, which belonged to the cathedral priory of durham; and, although we must not assume that it was built at the expense of the monastery, it doubtless owes its stately proportions to the influence of the mother house. less imposing in elevation, but richer in refined detail, are such aisled naves as those of long sutton in south lincolnshire, and walsoken in west norfolk, which belong to the later part of the twelfth century. the plans in each case are very regular; and the new arcades were probably built, at any rate in part, on older foundations. these naves reach the extent, unusual in a parish church, of seven bays. the nave of norham is of five bays. melbourne has five bays, but the plan of the church was as exceptional at the west as at the east end. western towers were planned, but not completed, at the end of either aisle: this feature, probably imitated from southwell minster, was also contemplated at bakewell in derbyshire. between the towers was an extra western bay of the nave, divided into two stories, the lower forming a vaulted return aisle, the upper forming a gallery. there are only four bays at sherburn, but here the aisles were continued as far as the western face of the tower. the tower is thus engaged within the aisles, and its vaulted ground floor forms, like the western bay at melbourne, a return to them. § 43. but, when the question of adding aisles to a church arose, the builders were met by the difficulty that the church was wanted constantly for service. the taking down of the walls and the building of new arcades interfered with this necessary use of the fabric. in our own day a congregation, driven out by builders or restorers, can resort to a school room or mission room. in the middle ages, these alternatives were unknown; and the church was positively indispensable. with this in view, the builders were obliged to add their aisles without touching more of the main fabric than they could help. usually, then, they took the length of the existing aisleless building for the length of their aisles. they then set out the aisles upon either side of the church, building the outer walls, and dividing them into bays by external buttresses. then, opposite each buttress, they proceeded to break through the walls of the church. leaving a piece of the old wall to serve as a footing for each column, they built up the columns in the thickness of the wall, the masonry being gradually removed as each rose in height. the arches were made in the same way, the wall being removed by degrees until the two sides of each arch met at the key-stone. the aisles were then roofed, and, finally, the masses of wall which still remained beneath each arch were broken down, and the nave and aisles thrown into one. the old masonry could be removed through the doorways of the aisles; and sometimes one of the end walls of either aisle was left unbuilt to the last, so that the masons could have free entrance for new, and exit for old, material. the old walls of the nave, above the columns and arches, were left untouched. in this way the upper parts of the walls of several saxon naves--more, probably, than we have opportunity of discovering--remain to us. the north wall at geddington in northamptonshire is the most striking instance. the practice was so common as to be general. in hundreds of country churches the plinths on which the columns of the nave rest are probably pieces of the foundation of the older wall, refaced, or even left in the rough. instances are nearly as common in which the heads of the new arches have blocked earlier windows; for, in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, when glass was rare and expensive, and the openings were usually closed by latticed shutters, the windows were set high in the wall. there is a remarkable example of the retention of old work at seamer, near scarborough. to this fine twelfth century aisleless church a north aisle was added in the fifteenth century. the builders, possibly wishing to avoid expense, employed the old method, which in those days of prosperity and general rebuilding had fallen into disuse. in order not to interfere with the older windows, they deliberately made their arches very low: the result is that, from the interior of the aisle, one can see that the old wall was almost entirely kept, the new columns being built up on the line of the flat pilaster buttresses, which were left unaltered above the capitals. sometimes, the connexion between nave and aisles was made by cutting arches at intervals in the wall, without building columns. the north arcade at billingham in durham, and the thirteenth century arcades at tytherington in gloucestershire consist of arches with large masses of the earlier wall left between them. such a method was economical, as much less dressed stone was required; and we find it employed at copford in essex, where good building stone was hard to get. nevertheless, it prevented the free circulation of light from the windows of the aisles, and practically shut off the aisles from the church. [illustration: fig. 9. gretton, northants: arcade of nave showing blocked window head.] § 44. there is one obvious consequence of the setting out of aisles on either side of an existing building which, although an imperfection in itself, contributes greatly to the variety of the parish church plan. the builders cannot see both their aisles at one and the same time: the older church comes in between. in fact, until the nave and aisles are actually joined, at the close of the work, by the breaking down of the walls beneath the arches, there can be no opportunity of appreciating the full effect of the work. there is a famous instance at beverley minster of the mistakes to which the presence of the older building may lead. the aisles of the nave were set out in the fourteenth century on either side of an older and shorter nave. the south aisle was set out first, the width of the eastern bay being measured from a new buttress in the angle of nave and transept. on the north side there was a thirteenth century buttress in this position: the builders, in setting out their north aisle, overlooked the fact that this buttress was of less projection than the newly built one on the other side, with the result that their buttress measurements throughout varied on both sides, while the standard of width between the buttresses, which had been employed on the south side, was retained. consequently, as the columns, in a vaulted church, have to be built in line with the buttresses of the corresponding aisle walls, the columns were not opposite one another, and the discrepancy increased as the church advanced westward. when the builders got clear of the intervening building, in the western bays of the nave, they were able to rectify their mistake slightly; but the effect is unpleasantly noticeable in the obliquity of the transverse arches of the vaulting. § 45. if errors like this could take place in churches where the width of the bays of the aisles was calculated, they were much more likely to take place where builders worked with less accurate ideas of measurement. in an unvaulted church, where the pressure of the roof is not a serious factor in the construction, the exact correspondence of pier to buttress need not be taken into account; and there are many churches in which the spacing of the aisles is quite independent of that of the arcades. this happens at melbourne, where the church was not planned for stone vaulting. the builders seem to have thought that they could get in six bays between the transept and the space planned for one of the western towers; but found that, on the measurements they had adopted, there was room only for five. they corrected their miscalculation by broadening the division of the wall between the fourth and fifth bay of the aisles. when they came to build the arcades, they were conscious of their previous error, and planned them in five equal bays irrespective of the plan of the aisles. in churches of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, especially in districts like norfolk or south lincolnshire, where much rebuilding was done, the regularity of plan is often remarkable. the nave of the famous church of heckington, near sleaford, was planned with an exact correspondence between aisles and arcades: pier is opposite buttress, window opposite window. islip and brampton ash in northamptonshire show an equal accuracy. but, while such agreement is desirable, it is neither necessary nor general. and, where the arcades are broken through earlier walls, the correspondence is seldom very precise. the central line of the east walls of the aisles, as set out first, will usually correspond to a line drawn across the centre of the chancel arch: similarly, the line of the west walls will be an extension of the west wall of the nave, or of a line drawn across the tower arch. the aisles will be spaced into as many equal, or nearly equal bays, as can be got in between the buttresses at either end. when, however, the building of the arcade is taken in hand, the responds or half-piers at either end will seldom be built directly against the piers of the chancel arch, or against the west wall of the nave; but projecting pieces of the old walls will be left as a backing to them. it follows that, although the arcade may be divided into the same number of bays as the aisles, the standard of spacing will be different, and consequently, unless a very regular system of planning is adopted, the piers will not be exactly opposite the solid portions of the aisle walls, and consequently the centres of the arches will be out of line with the centres of the windows. again, it may be that, by accident or design, the backing for the responds may project more on one side of the nave than on the other, at either or both ends. the result will be that the piers of one arcade will be out of line with those of the arcade opposite. that discrepancies of this kind were sometimes the result of intention cannot be denied; but there is generally some practical reason to be found for the intention, and the discrepancies themselves were a _pis aller_ which the builders would have avoided, if they could. that deliberate irregularity with which medieval masons are sometimes credited is a fancy, which careful consideration of the circumstances will dispel. § 46. hitherto we have spoken of the aisled nave as though both aisles were planned at one and the same time. this, however, was by no means always the case. at gretton in northamptonshire, the north aisle was built soon after the beginning of the twelfth century: the south aisle followed twenty or thirty years later. the north arcade at northallerton is of massive twelfth century work, with rounded arches: the south arcade was added in the thirteenth century, and has slender columns with pointed arches. in such cases, the north aisle may have been built first, to avoid interference with the burial ground south of the church. very often only one aisle was added. the little church of whitwell, rutland, has a south aisle, added in the fourteenth century, with a chapel at its east end. no north aisle was built: but a drain in the north wall of the nave shows that there was a third altar against the north side of the rood screen. usually, when one aisle was built long after another, the spacing of the new arcade was made to correspond with that of the old. if the old arcade had heavy twelfth century columns, the new one, with its lighter columns, would have broader arches. but it sometimes happens that the old spacing was disregarded, for very good reasons. the north arcade of middleton tyas church, in north yorkshire, consists of six bays: the columns are heavy, the arches low and round headed, and very narrow. the interior of the church must have been very dark; and the builders of the south aisle, in the fourteenth century, aimed at throwing more light upon it. they therefore planned their new arcade, with broad pointed arches springing from octagonal columns, in four instead of six bays, and so, from broad windows in the aisle, introduced the necessary light. something of the same kind happened at theddingworth in leicestershire: the effect is, of course, one-sided, but in both cases the light admitted enhances the merits of the earlier arcade, which, until then, had to be taken on trust. § 47. but there are further instances--and these, perhaps, are the most instructive--where aisles were not merely built at two different periods, but where the growth of one or both aisles was gradual. as an instance of this, may be cited the beautiful church of raunds in northamptonshire. raunds seems to have been one of those cases in which the norman chancel and nave were of the same width, and possibly were undivided by any chancel arch. in the thirteenth century the west tower and spire were built, and a broad south aisle was added to the nave. this aisle was of four bays, and the point at which it stopped probably marked the dividing line between the nave and chancel. however, the builders certainly intended to carry on the aisle eastward, as a south chapel to the chancel, which they now rebuilt and lengthened. early in the fourteenth century, the south aisle was continued eastward, an arcade of five bays being added to the four bays already existing. the new bays were made rather narrower than those in the earlier part of the arcade. a strange feature of the new work was the insertion of a chancel arch, the south pier of which bisects one of the new arches. thus, while three bays and a half of the new arcade belong to the chancel and quire, a bay and a half belong to the nave. the arch dividing the south aisle from the chancel chapel springs from the pier between the end of the old arcade and the inserted pier of the chancel arch. at the same time, the outer wall of the south aisle seems to have been practically rebuilt, although much of the older work was retained. there may have been a thirteenth century north aisle as well. whether this was the case or no, a new north aisle and arcade were built during the fourteenth century. the aisle was set out in seven bays, six of which contained broad three-light windows, while a north doorway was made in the third bay from the west end. the east wall was built on foundations in a line with the chancel arch, while the west wall was in a line with the tower arch and west wall of the south aisle. it is obvious, therefore, that the planning of the new aisle was totally different from that of the older aisle and chapel. however, when the builders came to their arcade, instead of building it in seven bays, as the new aisle demanded, they built it in five, setting their new columns in a line with those on the opposite side. but while, on the south side, there was an awkward half-bay between the end of the arcade and the chancel arch, a solid piece of wall was left between the north pier of the chancel arch and the eastern respond of the new arcade. a compromise was thus effected between the aisles, and an appearance of regularity was ensured. directly, however, one begins to examine the plan of the church, and to trace the transverse lines from window to window, and buttress to buttress, it will be found that only in one place can a line be drawn which will pass straight from the centre of one buttress to that of the buttress opposite, and will pass through the centre of the intervening columns on its way. [illustration: fig. 10. plan of raunds church, northants.] § 48. it already has been shown that builders were very unwilling, in making their additions to churches, to destroy old work altogether. at times they displayed an extraordinary conservatism in their re-use of old material in their new work. this was not invariable. in the splendid churches of south lincolnshire, during the fourteenth century, their aim seems to have been complete rebuilding; and such examples as the magnificent nave at swaton, near sleaford, or the neighbouring church of billingborough, show how old work must have been swept away by the enthusiasm for lofty arcades, elaborately traceried windows, and walls of dressed stone-work. on the other hand, half the charm of the hardly less beautiful churches of northamptonshire is the result of the clever way in which the masons dove-tailed all the old stone-work which was worth preserving into their new additions. such churches as tansor and oundle are, for that reason, unexcelled in interest, offering, as they do, almost inexhaustible problems as to the development of their plan. in all parts of england we find that builders, whatever else they destroyed, carefully kept, as a general rule, the doorways, and especially the south doorway, of the buildings which they enlarged. this accounts for the large number of handsome norman doorways which remain in the walls of aisles obviously later than the doorways themselves. at birkin in yorkshire, the south aisle was not built till the middle of the fourteenth century, but the doorway was removed to its new position from the wall of the aisleless church. one very exceptional case occurs at felton in northumberland. towards the beginning of the thirteenth century, the west part of the south wall of the church was cut through, a chapel was added, and, east of the chapel, a porch was built. rather more than fifty or sixty years later, it was determined to add a south aisle the full length of the nave. the width of the aisle was taken from that of the existing chapel and porch. to connect the chapel with the new work, the side walls of the porch were cut through. the outer doorway of the porch became the new south doorway, while the inner doorway was kept unaltered, as an arch in the new arcade. § 49. features which have been touched upon in connexion with raunds bring us to two new features in the plan--the rebuilding of aisles and the lengthening of churches westward. in most parish churches, aisles, when they were added at first, were extremely narrow. the west wall of hallaton church in leicestershire, for example, shows that, in the fourteenth century, originally narrow aisles were heightened and widened. the roof lines of the earlier aisles remain; they were clearly under the same roof as the nave of the church, and had very low side walls. this was not always the case. at raunds the thirteenth century south aisle was always broad and lofty, and must have had its own roof from the first. and, as the principles of gothic construction became more familiar, and the larger churches began to exercise a more wide-spread influence upon the parish church, aisles began to increase in breadth and elevation. the small and narrow windows of churches of the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries gave way to the broad mullioned and traceried windows of fully developed gothic work. for these, with their advantage of increased light, more headway was necessary. aisle walls were consequently heightened or altogether rebuilt. the acutely pointed roof of the nave could no longer be continued downwards to cover these higher aisles. the aisle was consequently covered with a lean-to roof, or with a separate gabled roof of its own. a free increase in width was thus possible. the church of appleton-le-street in yorkshire has a short nave with north and south aisles. the north aisle, added in the early part of the thirteenth century, is narrow, and the roof of the nave was continued over it. the south aisle, which was probably rebuilt a little before 1300, is broader and has a separate lean-to roof. the wide east window of this aisle could not have been introduced, had the south aisle been built to match the scale of the north aisle. [illustration: fig. 11. plan of harringworth church, northants.] § 50. the introduction of more light, however, was not the only reason for the rebuilding and heightening of aisles. the east end of an aisle, as has been said, provided a convenient place for one of the side altars of the church. this was the case even in the narrow aisles of the twelfth and thirteenth century, many of which, like the north aisle of great easton church in leicestershire, provided with a drain, aumbry, or a corbel for a statue, bear witness to the existence of a contemporary altar. at harringworth in northamptonshire there had been an aisleless church, to which a tower had been added at the end of the twelfth, and aisles early in the thirteenth century. on 24 october 1305 edward i granted letters patent to william la zouche, by which he had licence to assign a certain amount of land to two chantry chaplains in the chapel of all saints. this may have been his private chapel, but was possibly in the church. a little earlier than this, to judge by the character of the architecture, a new north aisle had been built, with a new altar at the east end. very soon after the granting of the licence, it would appear that the whole of the south arcade was taken down, and a new south aisle and arcade built. the work was done in a very conservative spirit, for the old thirteenth century porch and inner doorway were rebuilt on the new site, and an old string-course was re-used internally, beneath the new windows. the piscina and the three sedilia, which belonged to the altar at the end of the aisle, remain in the south wall, and there are corbels for statues on either side of the east window. however, rebuilding did not stop here; for it seems that, during the next few years, the north arcade was entirely rebuilt so as nearly to match that on the south. thus the work, beginning with the north aisle, and extending over some thirty or forty years, finished on the side on which it began. numerous examples of a closely parallel kind, fortified by documentary evidence, might be given. [illustration: fig. 12. plans of grantham church: (1) probable arrangement about 1190; (2) at beginning of 14th century.] § 51. the rebuilding of the south aisle, about 1313, at newark, was the prelude to an entire rebuilding of the church, which extended over many years. the builders began by setting out their aisles as usual, and by the middle of the fourteenth century the south aisle was finished, and the lower courses of the north aisle and the new aisled chancel were built. however, in 1349, the black death interrupted the work. the north aisle and chancel were not completed, and the new arcades of nave and chancel were not built until the fifteenth century. in this case there were certainly older, and almost certainly narrower aisles. the rebuilding included aisles on a larger scale, and new internal arcades whose spacing corresponded to the spacing of the aisle walls. all systematic rebuilding, in the full development of gothic art, began with the planning of the aisles. the naves of cirencester and northleach churches, rebuilt at the end of the middle ages, are examples of this method. the arcades at cirencester are known to have been built about 1514-5; but the aisles were obviously completed first, and their remodelling may have been begun in the second quarter of the fifteenth century. at northleach the nave was finished about 1458; and there seems to have been a break of some years between the building of the aisles and the destruction of the older church which, no doubt, lay within them. but it did not always happen that the full intention of the builders was carried out. one of the most splendid schemes which we possess for the enlargement of a parish church was the great enterprise begun at grantham soon after the middle of the thirteenth century. an aisleless norman church had been enlarged at the end of the twelfth century by the addition of aisles to the nave, the connexion being formed by arcades of rounded arches springing from very elegant clustered columns. above the arcades were low clerestories, lighted by round-headed windows. about 1230, the neighbouring church of newark was taken in hand by masons, who built a new west tower up to a certain height, and, as an afterthought, planned aisles to engage the tower completely. as we have seen, the building of the aisles at newark upon their present scale did not begin till much later. the work of rebuilding at grantham was clearly inspired by that already begun at newark. a tower was planned on a site much to the west of the nave, and was engaged within very broad aisles. the tower and north aisle were set out first. the north aisle was divided into seven bays, with a large traceried window in each bay, the western bay being much wider between the buttresses than the rest, owing to the greater space taken up by the tower and its piers internally. the remaining six bays were set out with equal widths between the buttresses, the middle bay of the aisle being covered by a porch. the eastern bay overlapped the western part of the aisleless chancel, its western buttress being in a line with the division between chancel and nave. the western bay of the south aisle was set out about the same time, and there was, no doubt, an intention of proceeding with the rest on the same lines as in the north aisle. there can also be little doubt that the builders intended to take down the old arcades, and build new arcades, with spacing corresponding to that of their aisles, and to lengthen the chancel eastwards, while bringing its western portion into the nave. the tower and north aisle were built on the intended scale; and, when the tower had risen to a certain height, the ambition of the builders was fired to add to it an extra stage, hitherto uncontemplated, below the spire with which it was to be crowned. this project of giving their church a tower and stone spire, which remained, for many years, the loftiest in england, evidently curtailed the full accomplishment of their earlier plan. the columns of the old arcades were kept, and the tower was connected by arcades of two bays with the angles of the west wall of the old church; while an arch was pierced through the north wall of the chancel, to give access to the east bay of the new aisle. the new arches were pointed: in order to match them, the older round-headed arches were taken down, and pointed arches built, which cut into and blocked the clerestory windows. this change was made with great economy of material, the springing stones of some of the old arches being kept to afford footing for the new. when the south aisle was seriously begun, about 1300, similar economy was shown. four bays, in addition to the western bay, were spaced out, without regard to the plan of the north aisle. the fourth bay from the west was covered by a porch, smaller than that on the north side; and the east wall of the aisle was probably built on a line with the division between nave and chancel. half a century later, the east wall was taken down, and the south aisle was extended to the full length of the chancel; but this later development was not contemplated by the thirteenth century builders. these hesitations and changes, consequent upon the expense entailed by the north aisle and by the alteration in the elevation of the tower and spire, make grantham second to no english church in interest. § 52. grantham also provides us with a lengthened nave. the position of its earlier west wall is clearly shown by the masses of masonry which occur between the eastern bay of the new, and western bay of the old, arcade on either side. the responds on the eastern side of these pieces of wall are twelfth century work: on the west side, they belong to the later part of the thirteenth century. such lengthening was probably very common in later gothic times, and we may surmise that it took place in many instances where arcades were entirely rebuilt, and no visible trace of the process was left. however, there are many churches in which one or more extra bays have been added to the nave, and the join of the old and new work is marked as at grantham. whaplode church in south lincolnshire had its early twelfth century nave lengthened by three bays about 1180. at colsterworth, near grantham, a western bay was added to the nave about the same time, and an earlier north aisle lengthened. above the piece of wall which occurs between the older and newer work, the quoins of the aisleless church remain entire. usually, as at grantham, the lengthening of the nave was undertaken in connexion with a new western tower, which was built up outside the church, and then connected with it by one or two bays of arcading. almost contemporary with the tower and spire of grantham are those of tilney all saints, near lynn. here a single bay was added west of the late twelfth century nave; and, as no new aisles were contemplated, the old arcades, with their rounded arches, were left intact. bubwith in yorkshire, and caunton in nottinghamshire, are later examples of churches where the tower was built west of the end of an earlier nave, and a bay was built to connect it with the older work. sometimes, as at gretton in northamptonshire, where the slope of a steep hill forbade extension far to the west, a new tower was built only a few feet beyond the limit of the old nave. in such a case, the side walls of the nave might be carried solid westwards to meet the tower, or, as happened at gretton, narrow arches might be made between the tower and the west end of the older wall. the beautiful tower and spire at oundle were built just outside the west wall of the thirteenth century nave; and were doubtless intended to be followed by a complete rebuilding of the arcades--such a rebuilding as took place at lavenham in suffolk, towards the end of the fifteenth century. the idea, however, was abandoned, and the space between the arcades and the tower filled in solid with rather rough masonry. [illustration: fig. 13. gretton, northants: extension of 12th century arcade to meet 15th century tower.] § 53. the position of the western tower in the plan is normally at the west end of the nave, with which it is connected by an arch, low at first, but loftier as time goes on, until, in later gothic churches, its height frequently is nearly that of the whole nave. the remaining three walls are usually external, and clear of the aisles. but sometimes, owing to a freak of planning, or, more frequently, owing to the conditions of the site, the tower is, as at bibury, at the west end of one of the aisles. at gedling in nottinghamshire the tower and spire are at the end of the north aisle. the tower of st michael's, cambridge, is at the west end of the south aisle: probably the western extension of the church was prevented by the neighbourhood of the street, a circumstance which often accounts for the irregularity of plan in some town churches. at st mary redcliffe, bristol, built on the edge of the "red cliff" from which it takes its name, the tower and spire are at the end of the north aisle: had they been planned in the usual place, a full bay of the nave would have been sacrificed. the tower at spalding was planned, in the first instance, to stand against the south wall of the west bay of the south aisle: subsequently a new south aisle was built east of it. one of the most curious instances is that of st mary's at leicester, where the tower, subsequently, as at spalding, heightened by a spire, was planned in the thirteenth century, outside a very narrow south aisle. a tower at the west end of the nave would have encroached upon the inner ward of the adjacent castle. the chancel of st mary's was used for collegiate services, and parochial accommodation was limited. towards the end of the thirteenth century, a very wide south aisle, a parish church in itself, was built the full length of the nave, and overlapping the chancel at the east end. the tower was left standing on piers entirely within the west end of the new aisle. it may be added that, where towers occur at the end of aisles, they seldom project beyond the west wall of the nave, but open into the nave by an arch in the north or south wall, as the case may be. plans with two western towers, as at melbourne or st margaret's at lynn, are of very rare occurrence; and, where they are found, the plan was probably designed on more ambitious lines than those of the ordinary parish church. § 54. the plan in which the western tower is engaged within the aisles--that is, where the aisles are brought up flush with the west end of the church--is not very common. still, instances occur in all parts of england. at grantham, the plan is deliberate. it was imitated, as has been said, from newark, where the side walls of the tower had been pierced with arches as an after-thought. newark, in turn, may have taken the design from tickhill in south yorkshire; and the design at tickhill may have been taken from the early and unpretentious example at sherburn-in-elmet. grantham probably suggested other similar designs, such as ewerby, near sleaford. several of our finest late gothic churches, like st nicholas at newcastle, have plans in which the aisles are continued up to the west face of the tower. the method affords full development to the aisles, and, as at sileby in leicestershire, has an imposing interior effect. outside, however, the aisles crowd the base of the tower too much, and the fine effect of a lofty, free standing tower is lost. sometimes aisles were extended westwards, so as to engage an earlier tower, as at sleaford, where the low tower and spire are almost overwhelmed by a pair of wide fourteenth century aisles. at brigstock and winterton, late saxon towers have been left without alteration inside aisles which have been brought westward in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. the nave of holy trinity, cambridge, was much widened in the fourteenth century, and a small tower and spire of earlier date were brought entirely within the new nave, as happened in the south aisle at st mary's, leicester, and were left without sufficient abutment. as a consequence, the arches of the ground story had to be strengthened about a century later with additional masonry. cases occur, as at coln rogers in gloucestershire, where a tower has been built within the west end of an earlier church. in most of such instances, the churchyard boundary probably allowed of no further building westward. the nearness of the churchyard boundary also seems to have given cause to a peculiarity which may be seen at wollaton, near nottingham, dedham in essex, and in a few other places, where the west tower is in its usual position, but is pierced from north to south by an archway. it is possible that this gave facility to processions, which could thus pass round the church without leaving consecrated ground. the tower of old all saints, cambridge, now destroyed, projected over the public foot-way of the street, which passed through its ground story; while st john's, bristol, is built on the city wall, and the tower and spire, which it shared with the adjoining church of st lawrence, are over the south gate of the city. § 55. sometimes, as at oundle, the tower was rebuilt with a view to the reconstruction of the whole church. but, as also at oundle, the design was often abandoned, or was altered. the magnificent tower of st michael's, coventry, was built, between 1373 and 1394, at the west end of an older nave: its spire was not begun till 1430. whether the rebuilding of the nave was contemplated when the tower was begun, it is impossible to say. a new nave was actually begun in 1432, and finished in 1450. a thoroughfare immediately south of the church prevented extension on that side. the old south porch was retained in place as the principal entrance, so that the line of the wall of the south aisle follows closely that of the original church. the new south arcade was set out, not in a line with the south-east buttress of the tower, but somewhat to the north of it, so that the buttress is external; while, for the width of the nave, a space approximating to twice the internal breadth of the tower was taken. the tower is thus placed almost wholly south of the central axis of the nave produced westward. here, once more, we may note the influence of site on the plan. § 56. the people's entrance to the church was ordinarily through a porch, covering the north or south doorway of the nave. the south doorway is usually covered by a porch. frequently, as at hallaton in leicestershire, or henbury in gloucestershire, there is a north as well as a south porch. at warmington, near oundle, where there is a beautiful doorway in the west tower, the vaulted south porch is the principal entrance; but there is also a somewhat smaller north porch, also vaulted. the chief porch at grantham is on the north side; but there is also a large porch on the south. at newark, there is only a south porch, on the side of the church next the market place. the south porch of st mary redcliffe, at bristol, is the ordinary entrance of the church; but the chief entrance of the building, until the fifteenth century, was on the north side, at the head of the abrupt slope towards the city. in the fourteenth century, this entrance was covered by a large and lofty octagonal porch, approached by a flight of steps. there is an octagonal south porch at chipping norton, and a hexagonal south porch at ludlow. the magnificent porches of the fifteenth century, as at burford in oxfordshire, northleach in gloucestershire, worstead in norfolk, walberswick in suffolk, st mary magdalene's at taunton, or yatton in somerset, are usually on the south side of the church. § 57. the positions of the porch and doorway in the wall of the aisle vary. at st nicholas, newcastle, where the west tower is engaged within the aisles, there is a porch in the western bay of each aisle. usually, however, the porch will be found in the second bay of one of the aisles, counting from the west end. sometimes, especially in larger churches, the porch occurs a bay further east. at warmington and at grantham, the two porches of either church are nearly opposite each other, and project approximately from the centre of the walls of the aisles. where the porch has been pushed eastward in this way, the west end of the aisle seems to have been occupied by one or more chapels. there are indications of this at warmington; while, in the neighbouring church of tansor, where the porch is in the usual place, but the aisle has been lengthened somewhat to the west, there was certainly an altar west, as well as east, of the porch. there was at least one chantry chapel west of the south porch at grantham. the south porch at ludlow covers the wall of the third bay of the aisle from the west: here there were two chapels in the western part of the aisle. there was another chapel at the west end of the north aisle. it can hardly be proved that the position of porches was actually planned with this use of the aisles in view; but there can be no doubt that advantage was frequently taken of the space thus added to the aisle. chapter v the aisled parish church ii. transepts and chancel § 58. the aisled nave, with its usual appendages of porch and tower, has now been described at length. before we proceed to the development of the chancel, the transepts or transeptal chapels of the parish church invite discussion. the distinction between true transepts, in churches with central towers, and the transeptal chapels which are nothing more than northern and southern extensions of the aisles, has been made already; and it has been seen that the cruciform plan with central tower reached a very full state of perfection during the twelfth century. further dignity was given to some cruciform churches by the addition of aisles to the transepts. st mary redcliffe at bristol, the plan of which is that of a large collegiate or cathedral rather than a parish church, has transepts with eastern and western aisles: there is no central tower, but the transepts form a definite cross-arm to the church, which was designed with regard to the central point formed by the crossing of a longitudinal and a transverse axis. there are few churches in england as beautiful as that of melton mowbray, with its aisled transepts and tower above the crossing: had the chancel only been planned on a larger scale and with aisles, the unrivalled beauty and dignity of st mary redcliffe might have been approached here. the cruciform plan with central tower is the most noble of all church plans, when carried out by builders with large ideas. churches like ludlow, nantwich, holy trinity and st john's at coventry, st mary's at beverley, excite an admiration which is the natural result of the fact that the plan, instead of straggling in the ordinary way from east to west, is brought to a focus beneath the central tower. [illustration: fig. 14. plan of 13th century church: west tower, south porch, unequal transeptal chapels.] § 59. apart, however, from the tower above the crossing, the transept had a value of its own. it gave additional room for the side altars of the church. the transeptal chapels at worth allowed of greater width for the chancel arch: the altars, which naturally would have stood against the wall on either side of the chancel arch, could be placed within these excrescences from the north and south walls of the church, and the central space was thus left clear. this method of extension of the church by adding north and south chapels to the nave was pursued throughout the middle ages. the thirteenth century plan of acton burnell is virtually identical with the tenth or eleventh century plan of worth. in aisled churches, such transeptal additions are simply outgrowths of the aisle walls, and were not necessarily planned with any regard to the spacing of the arcades of the nave. they may, of course, be placed symmetrically at the east end of the aisles, the width of each chapel corresponding to the width of the arch of the arcade which is opposite its opening. thus exton church in rutland, rebuilt about the beginning of the thirteenth century, has north and south transeptal chapels whose width is that of the eastern bay of each arcade. a transverse arch was thrown across each aisle at its junction with the adjacent chapel. here the chapels form quasi-transepts in perfect union with the design of nave and aisles. symmetrical plans in which it is clear at a glance that the transeptal chapels are developments of the aisles, and have no necessary relation to the nave, are those of kegworth in leicestershire, rebuilt in the fourteenth century, and aylsham, cawston, and sall in norfolk, which belong to the fifteenth century. but even more obvious than these are the plans in which transeptal chapels have been thrown out at different periods, or even at one and the same period, without the least regard to symmetry. a small aisleless nave at stretton in rutland received a north aisle about the beginning of the thirteenth century. soon after, the eastern part of the side walls was taken down, and chapels built out to north and south. the width of the south chapel was determined by that of the old chancel arch, which was rebuilt between the chapel and the nave, there being no aisle on that side. the north chapel, on the other hand, was formed simply by returning the wall of the aisle northward, and throwing a transverse arch across the aisle from the wall above the arcade. its width corresponds roughly with that of the south chapel, but has no correspondence with that of the adjacent bay of the arcade. examples of this form of growth of plan, dictated by convenience and the necessity of the moment, are common in every part of england. § 60. it is quite clear that the transeptal chapel, being nothing more than an excrescence from the wall of a nave or aisle, is a feature which may be treated with some freedom. its width and length are dependent upon the convenience and will of the builders. the north chapel of the aisleless church of clapton-in-gordano, somerset, is entered by an arch in the east part of the north wall: the chapel itself, however, extends some distance westward, so that its longer axis is parallel to the longer axis of the nave. the south chapel, again, at lowick in northamptonshire has its longer axis from east to west, although its roof is at right angles to that of the adjacent aisle. externally, its transeptal character is apparent; internally, it has the appearance of an additional south aisle. a chantry was founded in this chapel in 1498. very often, where special chantry chapels were built, they took the position of transeptal chapels. cases in point are the late gothic chantry chapels in all saints and st lawrence's at evesham. such chapels may obviously be lengthened westward, like the chapel at clapton-in-gordano, so that they become additional aisles. the milcombe chapel at bloxham in oxfordshire, the greenway aisle at tiverton in devonshire, and the side chapels of the north and south aisles at st andrew's, plymouth, and plympton st mary are the logical outcome of the habit of adding transeptal chapels to the plan. two transeptal chapels of the ordinary type are found in other devonshire churches rebuilt in the fifteenth century, as at east portlemouth: the kirkham chapel at paignton, famous for its carved stone-work, is transeptal. from this it is but a step to the chapels at plymouth and plympton, with their longer axes from east to west: while the aisle at tiverton (1517) develops naturally, in the churches of cullompton (1526) and ottery st mary (before 1530), into a vaulted aisle the full length of the nave. at bloxham, on the other hand, the milcombe chapel, which extends from the east wall of the south aisle as far as the porch, was probably grafted upon an earlier and smaller transeptal chapel. a comparison with the neighbouring church of adderbury shows that the fabric of the transeptal chapels at adderbury is largely of the twelfth century. the north chapel at bloxham is, in its present state, much later; but the similarity of plan to that of adderbury leads to the justifiable conclusion that it was rebuilt on old foundations, and that there was a similar south chapel. about 1290 the aisles at bloxham were widened, and a beautiful arcade of two bays was built at the east end of the north aisle, between it and the north chapel. within the next few years, the aisles at adderbury were also widened, and arcades similar to that at bloxham, though coarser in detail, were built at the east end of either aisle. the projection of the transeptal chapels from the side walls was now very slight; and, in the fifteenth century, the projection of the south chapel at bloxham was absorbed by the building of the milcombe chapel, between which and the south aisle an arcade of two bays was made. there is more intrinsic interest in this gradual development of plan than in the devonshire plans we have noticed, which are all due to fifteenth century rebuildings; and the mutual influence exercised throughout the middle ages by two neighbouring churches like bloxham and adderbury gives us an insight into the progress of local art which the energy of fifteenth century masons in certain districts has somewhat obscured. from the arrangement of the south transept at adderbury, there appear to have been two altars in each of the chapels. § 61. transeptal chapels occasionally appear in unusual positions. for example, at branscombe in south devon, there is a tower between nave and chancel. there are, however, no transepts; but transeptal chapels are built out from the walls of the aisleless nave, west of the tower. these chapels appear to be enlargements of earlier transeptal chapels; while the tower seems to have been built over the chancel of the earlier church. heckington church in south lincolnshire was rebuilt in the fourteenth century. the nave has aisles with transeptal chapels, very regular and symmetrical in plan, but is continued beyond the opening of the transeptal projections by an aisleless bay, east of which comes the chancel arch. at bottesford in north lincolnshire, where much rebuilding was done in the thirteenth century, the transeptal chapels open from the bay east of the chancel arch. in the case of heckington, the earlier church was probably cruciform: when the rebuilding came to pass, the ground plan of the western portion of the church was kept, while the chancel was built on an extended plan, and the site of the western part of the old chancel thrown into the nave. the case of bottesford is probably accounted for in the opposite way: the site was not enlarged eastwards, but the chancel was lengthened by the absorption of the eastern part of the old nave. § 62. there are a number of cases in which transeptal chapels have been kept from an earlier cruciform plan, in which they may have formed true transepts. the fine church of oundle, whose western tower and spire already have been mentioned as built about 1400, has very fully developed transeptal chapels. the nave and aisles, and the greater part of the chapels, are, in their present state, work of the thirteenth century; but the eastern bay of the present nave was entirely remodelled about 1350, when a clerestory was added. this bay had evidently been designed to carry a central tower: the nave arcades stop west of it, and there is a thick piece of wall between them and the arches opening from it into the chapels. these arches and the chancel arch were entirely reconstructed at the time just mentioned. the western arch, however, was removed, and an original crossing was thus converted into a bay of the nave. whether there ever was a central tower is, of course, an uncertain point; but the building of a west tower on a new site not many years after this reconstruction is a fact which makes the previous existence of a central tower probable. the removal of a central tower would be due to one of two causes. either its supports were weak, or it blocked up the space between nave and chancel too much. the central tower of petersfield in hampshire was taken down; but its east wall still remains between nave and chancel. however, if there are cases in which a central tower was removed, and a west tower built, there are probably more in which a central tower was planned, and then abandoned. campsall church, near doncaster, has unmistakable signs of a projected cruciform plan with a central tower, and has a regular crossing with transepts. but it is probable that the builders changed their minds before the nave was finished; and, although they doubtless left the arches, which were intended to bear their tower, for a later generation to remove and rebuild, they went westward and built a tower at the other end of the nave. this tower was finished towards the end of the third quarter of the twelfth century. the builders of newark church, who were peculiarly susceptible to after-thoughts, apparently planned a central tower in the later part of the twelfth century. it is difficult to explain otherwise the slender clusters of shafts which project into the nave from the first pier west of the chancel arch on either side. such piers were hardly capable of bearing the weight of a tower; and so the builders must have thought. early in the thirteenth century, they began the present west tower, the first stage of a rebuilding which, with long intervals, continued into the sixteenth century. the final step by which the church reached its present plan was the addition of a transeptal chapel to either aisle, opposite the site which, more than three centuries before, had been chosen for the piers of the abandoned central tower. [illustration: fig. 15. st mary's, beverley: arcades of quire and s. transept, from s.w.] § 63. even in strictly cruciform churches, transepts were sometimes treated with a freedom which was more appropriate to the transeptal chapel. it is not unusual to find one transept longer than the other, as at felmersham in bedfordshire. here, however, the transepts are not only of different lengths, but the south transept is loftier, as well as shorter, than the north, which is little more than a chapel-like excrescence from the tower. at witney in oxfordshire both transepts are of great projection, but the north transept is slightly longer than that on the south. both have considerable traces of thirteenth century work; but, in the fourteenth century, the north transept was lengthened by an addition divided into two stories, the upper of which was a chapel, while the lower was probably a vaulted bone-hole. the south transept was also lengthened; and a chapel was built, projecting from its east wall near the south end. both transepts have western aisles: that of the north transept, which stops short of the two-storied extension, contained an altar near the north end. there are traces of at least three other altars in the transepts, so that there was excellent reason for their somewhat unusual projection. at st mary's, beverley, an eastern aisle was added to the south transept in the fifteenth century, to provide more room for altars. the north transept already had a large chapel of two stages upon its eastern side, so that the plan was treated unsymmetrically. the tower of st mary's at stafford rests on heavy piers and narrow arches, and is flanked by north and south transepts. however, while the south transept, of good thirteenth century work, is rather small and short, the north transept was rebuilt with great magnificence in the fourteenth century, and its internal effect is that of a large side chapel rather than a transept. aisled transepts are never common, even in large churches. instances in which a transeptal chapel is aisled are even less common. the aisled south chapel at medbourne in leicestershire has been mentioned in an earlier chapter. oakham and langham churches in rutland have large transeptal chapels with western aisles: the north chapel at langham was removed in the fifteenth century, when the aisles of the nave were widened. § 64. reference has also been made to those plans in which the side walls of a tower between chancel and nave have been pierced with arches, and quasi-transepts have been constructed. this is very noticeable at almondsbury in gloucestershire, where the transeptal chapels, turned at a later date into burial-places for two local families, are very large and roomy. the cross-plan of burford church in oxfordshire was formed in this way, early in the thirteenth century. plans like this, in which the chapels grow out of the central space, instead of being planned from the first in relation to it, are imperfectly cruciform; but are highly characteristic of the irregular methods of development pursued by the builders of medieval parish churches. § 65. towers above transeptal chapels are not uncommon. the two transeptal towers at ottery st mary in devon were doubtless copied from the arrangement at exeter cathedral: there was an altar against the east wall of each chapel. the tower at coln st aldwyn, gloucestershire, rises above a south chapel projecting from an aisleless nave. this addition was made in the fifteenth century. at duddington in northamptonshire the ground floor of the tower virtually forms, in its present state, an eastward extension of the south aisle parallel to the western part of the chancel: the original plan was probably similar to the present plan of coln st aldwyn. the noble church of whaplode had transeptal chapels projecting from the east end of either aisle: the thirteenth century tower is above the south chapel. at clymping in sussex the arrangement is very peculiar. the church, which is almost entirely of the thirteenth century, has north and south transeptal chapels, and only a south aisle to the nave. the tower, which is at the end of the south chapel, is earlier than the rest of the building, but is clearly in its original position. § 66. the early progress of gothic art in parish churches was marked by a general lengthening of chancels, analogous to that elongation of the eastern arm which is characteristic of cathedrals and monastic churches. this may be seen very clearly at iffley, near oxford, and avening in gloucestershire, where vaulted chancels of the twelfth century were lengthened in the thirteenth century by an eastern bay. sometimes, as at st mary's, shrewsbury, where successive generations of builders were very faithful to the remains of earlier work, the old sedilia of a twelfth century chancel have been left in place. but, as a rule, the enlargement of the chancel implied an entire reconstruction, or the entire transformation of old work by the insertion of new windows or buttresses. from the end of the twelfth century onwards, the normal chancel of the parish church has a length which is from a half to two-thirds of the length of the nave, the nave being slightly broader than the chancel. this is the case with most of those norfolk churches, which may be regarded as the ideal examples of parish church planning. room was in this way secured both for the altar and the quire stalls, for which the ordinary rectangular chancel offered a very restricted space. § 67. sometimes a new chancel encroached upon the nave. this happened at skipwith in yorkshire, where the church underwent some alteration about the middle of the fourteenth century. the new chancel was made of the same width as the nave; and apparently the old chancel arch was entirely removed, and its site, with the part of the nave immediately west of it, made into an extra bay of the chancel. no new chancel arch was built. one of the most curious and perplexing instances, in which additional westward room has been given to the chancel, and there is no structural division between chancel and nave, is at tansor in northants. the perplexity which arises here is due to the plentiful re-use of old work by the builders, the presence of which in unexpected places makes the history of the building a nearly insoluble puzzle. the church reached its present length about 1140, when probably the saxon nave was left as the west part of a church, which was now of the same width the whole way through, and had no chancel arch. some forty years later, narrow aisles of three bays were added to the nave; and, about the same time, a transeptal chapel may have been thrown out from the south wall, immediately east of the south aisle. as the church stands on southward sloping ground, there seems to have been no room for another chapel on the north side. in the thirteenth century, the aisles were lengthened eastwards, to flank the western part of the chancel. the builders moved back the eastern responds of the old arcades to the points from which the lengthened arcades were to start. they set themselves, however, a difficult problem when they reserved a space at the end of the north aisle for a sacristy, and set the respond on the west side of this narrow bay. their north aisle thus consisted of five bays and a very narrow eastern bay for the sacristy. on the south side no space corresponding to the sacristy was marked out, although the eastern respond was placed in a line with the east side of the opening of the sacristy. the number of bays on the south side had to be five, as there was no room for six. the result is that the pillars of the arcades, with the exception of those of the two bays furthest west, which were left unaltered, are not opposite each other. in the meantime, the old transeptal chapel was left standing between a south aisle and a short south chapel of the chancel. about 1300, the aisle and chapel seem to have been widened to the full length of the transeptal chapel, and thus a broad south aisle was formed. in this plan, the chancel proper projects for some distance east of the aisles; but, for ritual purposes, the eastern part of the nave, corresponding to the eastern bay of the north aisle and the sacristy bay beyond, forms, and has formed since the twelfth century, a western extension of the chancel. § 68. the addition of aisles to chancels was an even more gradual process than the addition of aisles to naves; and, as a rule, the aisles were at first mere chapels. chancel aisles or chapels of twelfth century date are not very common in smaller churches. but a plan like that at melbourne, where the apsidal chapels east of the transepts flank the chancel very closely, leads naturally to the provision of chapels communicating directly with the chancel. the logical consequence of such a plan is seen at oundle, at the close of the twelfth century, where rectangular chapels were built along the north and south walls of the western part of the chancel. the walls were pierced with broad, low arches, and arches were built between the chapels and the transepts. the chapels, in this instance, are at the back of the quire stalls; and a long projecting piece of aisleless chancel was left beyond them, to which, in the fifteenth century, a large northern vestry was added. this plan, where both chancel chapels were added at much the same time and on the same scale, is symmetrical. but, as a rule, chancel chapels were built just when they were needed. at arksey, near doncaster, where, as at st mary's, shrewsbury, the walls of late twelfth century transepts have been largely preserved inside the church in spite of many alterations, the chancel is a long aisleless twelfth century building east of a central tower. towards the end of the thirteenth century, the north chancel wall was pierced, and a narrow chapel built, which was one bay shorter than the chancel itself. in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the nave was enlarged, and the south aisle was widened to the full length of the south transept. a south chapel was added to the chancel: its outer wall was continued from the south wall of the transept, and carried eastwards for a little distance beyond the east wall of the chancel. thus chancel, south chapel, and north chapel, are all of three different lengths and breadths, the south chapel being the longest and widest. when the south chapel was built, a considerable portion of the old chancel wall was left untouched on its north side. it is obvious that the methods of building employed in such additions were those which have been described in connexion with the addition of aisles to a nave. it is no uncommon thing to enter, as at tamworth, a chancel aisle or chantry chapel, and find substantial remains of the old outer wall of the chancel, which has been pierced with one or more arches of communication. § 69. as the relative dates and proportions of chancel chapels vary so greatly, it is obvious that in many cases only one will be found. we frequently meet with churches which have only one aisle to the nave; but these are for the most part small buildings, and one aisle usually, in larger buildings, presupposes another, although symmetry of proportion need not be expected. however, many important churches have one chancel chapel, and no more. raunds in northamptonshire, and leverington in cambridgeshire, have south, but not north, chapels. stanion in northamptonshire, and hullavington in wiltshire, have north, but not south chapels. in both these last cases, the chapels are simply continuations of the aisles, without a break or intermediate arch; and the chapel at stanion is neither more nor less than a second chancel. as the dedication of stanion church is to st peter and st paul, it is not unlikely that the prominence given to the north chapel may be due to the provision of altars for both saints. the same consideration may have influenced the building of the church at wisbech, which is also dedicated to st peter and st paul. here, the twelfth century chancel had a south chapel; but when, at the end of the thirteenth century, the chancel was lengthened, the south chapel was also enlarged into what is practically a second chancel. not only this, but the south aisle of the church was rebuilt on the scale of a second nave, a second south aisle was built out beyond it, and the whole church, which afterwards was enlarged towards the north and otherwise altered, was more than doubled in size. § 70. where chantry chapels are attached to one side or other of a chancel, their variations in size and plan are almost infinite. in the smallest examples, they are mere projections from the wall of the chancel, and little more than tomb recesses, such as the cresacre chapel at barnburgh, near rotherham, or the booth chapel on the south side of the chancel at sawley in derbyshire. the little north chapel of the chancel at clapton-in-gordano in somerset may have served as a vestry. at brancepeth, near durham, where there is a long chancel and an aisled nave with transeptal chapels, a south chantry chapel adjoins the east side of the south transeptal chapel, while a north chantry chapel forms an independent excrescence from the north wall, and is shut off from the chancel by a doorway. brigstock in northamptonshire has a very large north chancel chapel, which is virtually the eastern portion of a widened aisle: the south chapel, on the other hand, is of much later date, and is so small that there must have been room in it for an altar and little more. these smaller chantry chapels, like the beautiful south chapel at aldwinkle all saints, northants, have often great architectural beauty of their own, and give great variety to the plan of the church. but chancel chapels are often larger and more important, like the fourteenth century south chapel at leverton, near boston, which is practically a separate building, separated from the chancel by a wall without an arcade, or like the very spacious north chapel of the priory church at brecon. the south chapel of the chancel at berkeley in gloucestershire, and the clopton chapel at long melford in suffolk, are shut off from the adjacent parts of the church, and belong to that class of chantry chapel of which our cathedrals furnish many examples. in this case, the chapel is a small separate building, attached to the fabric of the church, but hardly forming an integral part of it. § 71. one very important consequence of the addition of aisles and chantry chapels to chancels, at any rate on a large scale, is seen where they are applied to plans originally cruciform. we have already seen that at st mary's, shrewsbury, and at arksey, although much of the fabric of the old transepts was left, broad chancel chapels tended to obliterate the cruciform character of the building. the transepts at spalding almost escape notice, owing to the double aisle on the south side of the nave, the aisle and north chapel on the opposite side, and the large chapel east of the south transept. moreover, when, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, aisles were rebuilt or widened, there was always, as at tansor, a tendency to decide the width of the aisle by the length of an existing transept or transeptal chapel, and to build the new outer wall flush with its gable wall. in this case, the aisle would be planned to communicate with the transept, and the west wall of the transept would have to be cut through. where, as at arksey, there was a central tower, the old transept was structurally necessary, and only as much of its masonry would be removed as was absolutely necessary. but we have seen that there were cases in which it was thought advisable to take down the central tower altogether, and build a new one at the west end, in which case the transepts were of no structural use; and there were far more cases in which the transeptal excrescences were merely projecting chapels. in these instances, the transept was felt to intervene awkwardly between the aisles of nave and chancel. accordingly, its side walls and gabled roof were taken down, its end wall was remodelled, and it was placed under one roof with the adjacent aisles, in which it became merged. the cruciform plan was thus lost in certain churches, becoming absorbed in the ordinary elongated plan, with aisles to nave and chancel. tamworth church in staffordshire, and marshfield in gloucestershire, had twelfth century central towers. these were removed or destroyed, at tamworth in the fourteenth, at marshfield in the fifteenth century, and the aisles and chancel chapels were widened to the original length, approximately, of the transepts. the north and south arches of the crossing, however, remain in a blocked condition, and tell the tale of what has happened. wakefield cathedral is another instance of a large parish church whose aisleless cruciform plan has gradually disappeared within the aisles, until the plan is--or was till the additions of a few years ago--an aisled rectangle, the origin of which is certainly not obvious at first sight. the transformations here described must clearly be understood not to apply to cruciform churches generally, but merely to churches which, with an originally cruciform plan, needed enlargement. many handsome late gothic buildings, like the churches of rotherham and chesterfield, or st mary's at nottingham, are regular cruciform churches with central towers; and sometimes, as at newark, transeptal chapels were the latest of all additions to a church. but, where the transeptal chapel cramped necessary space, it had to disappear. at st margaret's, leicester, the arches into the transeptal chapels remain; but the chapels themselves have entirely disappeared, and the arches merely form part of the arcade between the nave and its broad aisles. § 72. the aim of restorers and rebuilders from the middle of the fourteenth century onwards was to convert the church into a rectangle with aisles. as we have seen, the chancel was constantly, in late gothic churches, an aisleless projection from the main fabric; but, where it was aisled, the old haphazard methods were often abandoned, and the aisles were made of approximately equal size. the old distinction between nave and chancel, marked by the chancel arch, and the arches between chapels and aisles, begin to vanish. where the chancel arch was kept, as at long sutton in lincolnshire, new chancel chapels were prolonged westward on each side of the nave, in place of the old nave aisles. fairford church in gloucestershire was rebuilt towards the end of the fifteenth century, to contain the splendid stained glass which had just been acquired for it. a central tower was built on strong piers, as a concession to the old plan; but the aisles of the nave were continued on either side of the tower and along the sides of the chancel till within a bay of the east end. but, in a great many churches, not merely the aisles, but the nave and chancel also became continuous, without a structural division. this feature, common in east anglia and the south-west of england, was the result of the importance of carved and painted wood-work in late gothic churches. the rood screen, stretching across nave and aisles, appeared to full advantage, when unbroken by the chancel arch. the splendid timber roofs of nave and aisles gained in effect, if they formed, as at southwold, or in the churches of norwich, an unbroken covering to the church from end to end. in norfolk and suffolk, where the work of rebuilding began in the fourteenth century, as at cawston, worstead, or tunstead, the chancel arch was often kept. at worstead and other norfolk churches the method pursued by the builders was precisely opposite to that which we have seen employed by gloucestershire masons at cirencester and other places, and may see in most of the fifteenth century churches of somerset. the arcades were rebuilt first, and the aisles followed. many of these churches were doubtless enlarged from much smaller buildings. the south aisle at ingham was probably the nave of the earlier church, to which the present nave, north aisle, chancel, and west tower, were added. the aisles in most cases continued at a uniform width eastward as chancel chapels. the north aisle at worstead was continued by a two-storied sacristy to the level of the east wall of the chancel. the south aisle stops at a bay short of the east wall, leaving the end of the chancel projecting as an altar space. whether the chancel arch was retained or not, the projection of this aisleless eastern bay became a very general feature of the larger churches of east anglia, and, in churches like trunch, southwold, and clare, its tall side windows flood the space with light the most striking example of this plan is at long melford in suffolk, where there is no chancel arch, and the actual chancel projects beyond the aisles. here, however, it is flanked on the north by the clopton chapel, and on the south by the vestry, which forms a covered way to the detached lady chapel further east. the long melford plan, with a projecting altar space, and without a chancel arch, is nearly universal in cornwall, and is common in south devon, where, as at totnes, the aisles of the chancel are usually little more than comparatively short chapels, and sometimes, as at west alvington, near kingsbridge, extend only a bay beyond the screen. its great advantages, apart from the display of wood-work which it permits, are the gain of internal space permitted by the reduction of the solid portions of the building to a minimum, the additional light admitted by the same means, and the long uninterrupted clerestory which forms a wall of glass, with thin stone divisions, on each side of the upper part of the church. § 73. the tendency to give the whole church aisles of equal width throughout, and extending along its whole length, was irresistible, especially in east anglia. the church of north walsham, rebuilt towards the end of the fourteenth century, is a great rectangle of three parallel divisions, with axes from east to west, and of nearly equal breadth. the chapel of st nicholas at lynn, rebuilt in 1419, is an even more striking example of the same design: in both cases the simple and somewhat monotonous plan is varied by the projection of a handsome south porch. at lynn, the thirteenth century west tower, with a spire, was kept at the south-west corner of the aisled building. but the aisled rectangular plan, if it attained its highest development in east anglia, had been reached already in other parts of england by gradual methods. it has sometimes been fathered upon aisled naves of friary churches, which, like the great nave of the black friars at norwich, afforded space for large congregations who came to hear sermons. but it is probable that the first churches which followed the course of expansion into the aisled rectangle were directly influenced by the example of the larger churches, like lincoln, or, at a later date, york, which, in extending their eastern arms, aisled their quires, presbyteries, and eastern chapels, right up to the east wall. thus the whole quire and chancel of newark, with aisles extending their whole length, were planned in the early part of the fourteenth century, when the great eastern chapel, the "angel quire," of lincoln, was little more than a generation old; and, although the progress of the work was long delayed, the eventual arrangement, in which the high altar was brought two bays forward from the east wall, and a spacious chapel was left at the back, exactly recalls the arrangements of lincoln and york. similarly the quire and chancel of the cruciform church of holy trinity at hull are aisled to their full length: the arrangement, again, is that of a cathedral rather than a parish church. the influence of cathedral plans is clearly visible in st mary redcliffe at bristol, and in the collegiate churches of ottery st mary and crediton: but here the type followed is not that of lincoln and york, but that more usual in the west and south of england at hereford, wells, salisbury, exeter, and elsewhere, where the aisles of the chancel are returned at the back of the east wall, and form a vestibule to a projecting aisleless lady chapel. this type of plan occurs outside its regular district at tickhill, on the borders of yorkshire and nottinghamshire. but it is naturally exceptional, and would be used only where there was plenty of money and space to spare: it demands for its full effect a considerable elevation, involving a large clerestory, and a church could seldom, if ever, be found whose original plan invited expansion on these lines. on the other hand, the aisling of the chancel throughout was simply the logical development of the ordinary church plan: if the plans of cathedrals may have suggested the later developments at churches like newark or hull, the simple aisled rectangle, with its three parallel divisions, and without any clerestory to distinguish the nave from the aisles--a plan remarkably characteristic of cornwall--came into existence in the ordinary course of things, by an extension of the wings of the building until they flanked the whole of the nave and chancel. § 74. the work done at grantham in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries illustrates the purely natural development of the ordinary aisled church into the aisled rectangle. we have seen, in an earlier chapter, that, soon after 1300, the church consisted of an aisleless chancel, which was, however, overlapped at the west end by the north aisle of the nave; a nave, the north and south aisles of which followed different systems of spacing; a western tower and spire, engaged within the aisles; and north and south porches. several chantries were founded in the church during the fourteenth century. not long after the black death of 1349, the south aisle was extended eastward to the whole length of the chancel. the south wall of the chancel was pierced by an arcade; and the lady chapel thus formed was raised upon a double crypt. it was not until more than a century later that the east wall of the north aisle was taken down, and the "corpus christi chancel" built out, continuing the north aisle without a break, and completely flanking the north wall of the chancel, through which an arcade was made. here the reason of expansion was obviously the growth of chantry chapels; and the expansion follows the simplest course. the last addition to the fabric was the present vestry, in which was a chantry founded by the hall family. this was built out at right angles to the north aisle, at the point where the old work was met by the later extension. not until the church had been fully aisled, and afforded no further room for new altars, were chantry chapels usually added in the shape of excrescences from the fabric. [illustration: fig. 16. plans of grantham church: (3) about 1350; (4) present day.] § 75. one interesting feature in the planning of chancels, which has been much discussed, is worth a note. this is the fact that the axis of the chancel is frequently out of line with the axis of the nave, and generally has a slight northward inclination. sometimes, as at henbury in gloucestershire, the inclination is very considerable, so that, from the west end of the church, nearly a quarter of the east wall is out of sight. usually, the inclination is very slight; and there are many cases in which it is not northward, but southward--sidbury and salcombe regis, near sidmouth, eastbourne in sussex and aldwinkle st peter in northants, are cases in point. the popular explanation is that it symbolises the leaning of our saviour's head upon the cross. like most symbolical explanations, this is founded entirely upon fancy: the inclination is by no means confined to churches with cross plans, and, if it were, the theorists who argue from this standpoint confound the symbolism of the cross-plan between the cross itself and the body which it bore. others have sought to explain the phenomenon by suggesting that the orientation of the chancel followed the direction in which the sun rose on the morning of the patronal feast. a succession of visits at sunrise to churches on appropriate dates has not hitherto been attempted upon a comprehensive scale: if it were undertaken, it probably would be found that the sun, instead of rising obediently opposite the middle light of every east window, as the theory requires, would have many puzzling exceptions in reserve. the marked divergence of axis at henbury is explained by the site of the building, which is on a gentle slope, with the axis of the nave distinctly from south-east to north-west. when the chancel was rebuilt in the thirteenth century, the masons kept as high upon the slope as they could, and so twisted the axis of the chancel a little further east. but we must also remember that, when chancels were lengthened and rebuilt, the work was done while the old chancels were still standing. the axis of the old chancel might be out of line with that of the nave. unless very careful measurements were taken, the new east wall would probably be not quite parallel with the old east wall of the chancel. the side walls would be set out at right angles to the new east wall; and thus, when the new chancel was joined to the church, the divergence of axis would be more palpable than before. or, for the same reason, a divergence of axis might be created for the first time. this seems to be the common sense explanation of a very common feature. but it must be added that there are instances in which the inclination is so decided that one is tempted to conclude either that the masons had very crooked sight, or that they were playing tricks with their perspective. the feature, where it is at all marked, is something of a deformity. in our own day it has been introduced, apparently by design, into the plan of truro cathedral. in medieval work, however, it will seldom be found in a chancel where no enlargement upon an early site has taken place; and it seems safe to conclude that, like so much else in medieval building which is irregular, it generally arises from the rebuilding of a fabric upon an encumbered site. index of places aachen, rhenish prussia, palace church, 33, 34 acaster malbis, yorks., 65 achurch, northants., 56, 58 acton burnell, salop., 55, 56, 58, 65, 102 adderbury, oxon., 106, 107 adel, yorks., 49 africa, basilicas in north, 14 aldwinkle, northants., all saints, 121; st peter, 131 almondsbury, glouces., 54, 113 alvington, west, devon, 126 amiens, france (somme), cathedral, 68 appleton-le-street, yorks., 84 arksey, yorks., 118, 121, 122 askham bryan, yorks., 49 avening, glouces., 54, 114 aylsham, norfolk, 104 bakewell, derby, 70 bampton-in-the-bush, oxon., 59, 60, 61 barnack, northants., 30, 32 barnburgh, yorks., 120 barton-on-humber, lincs., st peter, 30, 32, 33, 34, 40, 41 berkeley, glouces., 121 beverley, yorks., minster, 74, 75; st mary, 102, 111, 112 bewick, old, northumb., 50, 52 bibury, glouces., 94 billingborough, lincs., 82 billingham, durham, 73 birkin, yorks., 46, 51, 52, 82, 83 bishopstone, sussex, 36 blatherwycke, northants., 46 bloxham, oxon., 105, 106, 107 bottesford, lincs., 108 bracebridge, lincs., 28 bradford-on-avon, wilts., 16, 29, 36 bradwell-juxta-mare, essex, st peter's on the wall, 16 brampton ash, northants., 76 brancepeth, durham, 120 branscombe, devon, 107 brayton, yorks., 46 breamore, hants., 38, 40, 54 brecon, priory church, 121 brigstock, northants., 28, 97, 120, 121 bristol, st john baptist, 98; st lawrence, 98; st mary redcliffe, 95, 99, 101, 102, 128 britford, wilts., 36 brixworth, northants., 21, 22, 23, 24, 29, 32, 53 broughton, lincs., 32 bubwith, yorks., 93 burford, oxon., 60, 61, 99, 113 caistor, lincs., 45 cambridge, all saints, 97, 98; st benedict, 28; holy trinity, 97; st michael, 94, 95 campsall, yorks., 109, 110 canterbury, kent, cathedral, 15, 35; st pancras, 15, 16, 23, 24, 35, 36, 53 caunton, notts., 93 cawston, norfolk, 104, 125 chesterfield, derby, 123 chichester, sussex, cathedral, 68 childs wickham, glouces., 56, 58 chipping norton, oxon., 99 christon, som., 53 cirencester, glouces., 87, 88, 89, 125 clapton-in-gordano, som., 105, 120 clare, suffolk, 126 clymping, sussex, 114 coln rogers, glouces., 28, 29, 97 coln st aldwyn, glouces., 113, 114 coln st denis, glouces., 53 cologne, rhenish prussia, st gereon, 34 colsterworth, lincs., 47, 92 constantinople, sta sophia, 10, 12, 13 copford, essex, 52, 74 copmanthorpe, yorks., 49 corbridge-on-tyne, northumb., 19, 20, 56 corstopitum, _see_ corbridge-on-tyne coventry, warwicks., holy trinity, 102; st john baptist, 102; st michael, 98 crediton, devon, 128 cullompton, devon, 106 dedham, essex, 97 deerhurst, glouces., 27, 36, 37 dover, kent, st mary in the castle, 37, 38, 40, 54 duddington, northants., 114 dunham magna, norfolk, 38 durham, cathedral, 50, 67, 69 earl's barton, northants., 30, 48 eastbourne, sussex, 131 easton, great, leices., 86 ely, cambs., cathedral, 50 escomb, durham, 17, 18, 20, 26, 27, 29 evesham, worces., all saints, 105; st lawrence, 105 ewerby, lincs., 96 exeter, devon, cathedral, 113, 128 exton, rutland, 103, 104 fairford, glouces., 124 felmersham, beds., 110 felton, northumb., 83 finchingfield, essex, 45 fountains abbey, yorks., 67 garton-on-the-wolds, yorks., 46 geddington, northants., 28, 72 gedling, notts., 94 gloucester, cathedral, 67 grantham, lincs., 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 96, 99, 100, 129, 130, 131 greenstead, essex, 43 gretton, northants., 72, 78, 93, 94 hallaton, leices., 83, 99 harringworth, northants., 85, 86, 87 heapham, lincs., 46 heckington, lincs., 76, 107, 108 heddon-on-the-wall, northumb., 48 henbury, glouces., 99, 131, 132 hereford, cathedral, 128 heslerton, west, yorks., 64 hexham, northumb., priory church, 20, 21, 23; st mary, 33, 34, 41 heysham, lancs., 25 hooton pagnell, yorks., 46 hough-on-the-hill, lincs., 32 hull, yorks., holy trinity, 128, 129 hullavington, wilts., 119 iffley, oxon., 53, 54, 114 islip, northants., 76 jarrow-on-tyne, durham, st paul, 19 jerusalem, holy sepulchre, 34, 52, 62 kegworth, leices., 104 kirkburn, yorks., 46 kirk hammerton, yorks., 46 laceby, lincs., 45 langford, essex, 52 langham, rutland, 113 lavenham, suffolk, 94 leckhampton, glouces., 54 leicester, st margaret, 123, 124; st mary in the castle, 49, 95, 97 leverington, cambs., 119 leverton, lincs., 121 lincoln, cathedral, 67, 127, 128; st mary-le-wigford, 28; st peter-at-gowts, 28 lowick, northants., 105 ludlow, salop., 99, 100, 102 lydd, kent, 24 lynn, king's, norfolk, st margaret, 96; st nicholas, 127 marshfield, glouces., 123 medbourne, leices., 56, 58, 113 melbourne, derby, 59, 60, 69, 70, 75, 76, 96, 117 melford, long, suffolk, 121, 126 melton mowbray, leices., 102 middleton tyas, yorks., 78, 79 minster lovell, oxon., 61 monkwearmouth, durham, 18, 19, 20, 23, 29 montacute, som., 56, 58 moor monkton, yorks., 48 nantwich, cheshire, 102 newark-on-trent, notts., 87, 89, 96, 99, 110, 123, 127, 128, 129 newbald, north, yorks., 57, 58, 59, 60 newcastle-on-tyne, northumb., st nicholas, 96, 100 newhaven, sussex, 53 norham-on-tweed, northumb., 69, 70 northallerton, yorks., 78 northampton, st giles, 60, 61; st peter, 49 northleach, glouces., 87, 88, 89, 99 norton-on-tees, durham, 40, 41, 54 norwich, cathedral, 67; church of black friars, 127 nottingham, st mary, 123 oakham, rutland, 113 othery, som., 65 othona, _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare ottery st mary, devon, 106, 113, 128 oundle, northants., 82, 94, 98, 108, 109, 117, 118 paignton, devon, 106 patricio, brecon, 66, 67, 68 peterborough, northants., saxon abbey church, 21, 22 petersfield, hants., 109 plymouth, devon, st andrew, 105, 106 plympton st mary, devon, 105, 106 portlemouth, east, devon, 106 potterne, wilts., 55, 56, 65 ramsey, hunts., saxon abbey church, 39 ranworth, norfolk, 64, 68 raunds, northants., 79, 80, 81, 83, 84, 119 ravenna, italy, mausoleum of galla placidia, 10; of theodoric, 10, 11, 12; sant' apollinare in classe, 8, 9; sant' apollinare nuovo, 8, 9; san giovanni in fonte, 10; sta maria in cosmedin, 10; san vitale, 11, 12, 13, 33 reculver, kent, 15, 24 repton, derby, 28, 37 riccall, yorks., 46 ripon, yorks, cathedral, 21, 23 rochester, kent, cathedral, 15 rome, basilica of maxentius, 3; basilica ulpia, 2; baths of caracalla, 9; castle of sant' angelo, 9; san clemente, 9; sta costanza, 9; san lorenzo fuori le mura, 8; san paolo, 8; old st peter's, 4, 6, 7, 8, 14, 15; _scholae_, 5 rotherham, yorks., 123 st-georges-de-boscherville, france (seine-inf.), 60 st peter's on the wall, _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare salcombe regis, devon, 131 salisbury, wilts., cathedral, 67, 128 sall, norfolk, 104 sawley, derby, 120 seamer, yorks., 73 sherburn-in-elmet, yorks., 69, 70, 96 shrewsbury, salop., st mary, 114, 118, 121 sidbury, devon, 28, 131 silchester, hants., 14, 24, 25 sileby, leices., 96 skipwith, yorks., 115 skirlaugh, south, yorks., 65 sleaford, lincs., 82, 97 southwell, notts., cathedral, 70 southwold, suffolk, 125, 126 spalding, lincs., 95, 122 stafford, st mary, 112 stanion, northants., 119 stanton lacy, salop., 38 stow, lincs., 39, 40, 42, 54 stretton-in-the-street, rutland, 104 studland, dorset, 53 sutton, long, lincs., 70, 124 swaton, lincs., 82 tamworth, staffs., 119, 123 tansor, northants., 49, 82, 100, 115, 116, 117, 122 taunton, som., st mary magdalene, 99 temple balsall, warwicks., 65 theddingworth, leices., 79 tickencote, rutland, 48 tickhill, yorks., 96, 128 tilney all saints, norfolk, 92, 93 tiverton, devon, 105, 106 totnes, devon, 126 trier, rhenish prussia, basilica, 3; liebfrauenkirche, 34 trunch, norfolk, 126 truro, cornwall, cathedral, 133 tunstead, norfolk, 125 tytherington, glouces., 73 vinovium, _see_ escomb. waith, lincs., 38, 39 wakefield, yorks., cathedral, 123 walberswick, suffolk, 99 walsham, north, norfolk, 127 walsoken, norfolk, 70 warkworth, northumb., 48 warmington, northants., 99, 100 wells, som., cathedral, 128 whaplode, lincs., 92, 114 whitwell, rutland, 78 winchester, cathedral, 50 wing, bucks., 24, 27 winterton, lincs., 28, 97 wisbech, cambs., 120 witham, north, lincs., 47 witney, oxon., 61, 110, 112 wittering, northants., 28 wollaton, notts., 97 worstead, norfolk, 99, 125 worth, sussex, 37, 102, 103 yainville, france (seine-inf.), 53 yatton, som., 99 york, cathedral, 67, 127, 128 ythanceaster, _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare * * * * * cambridge: printed by john clay, m.a. at the university press * * * * * transcriber's note minor punctuation errors have been corrected without notice. an obvious printer error has been corrected, and it is listed below. all other inconsistencies are as in the original. the author's spelling has been maintained. page 36: "a saxon ex-example" changed to "a saxon example". note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the numerous original illustrations. see 30290-h.htm or 30290-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30290/30290-h/30290-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30290/30290-h.zip) _the homeland handbooks_--no. 55. our homeland churches and how to study them. by sidney heath (author of "some dorset manor houses," etc.) illustrated by the author and ethel m. heath and by photographs. published under the general editorship of prescott row and arthur henry anderson, by the homeland association for the encouragement of touring in great britain. [illustration: the foundations of a romano-british church. uncovered at silchester. _photograph s. victor white & co._] london: the homeland association ltd., 22, bride lane, fleet street, e.c. first edition. 1907. editorial note. with a view to making future editions of this handbook as accurate and comprehensive as possible, suggestions for its improvement are cordially invited. if sent to the editors, the homeland association, association house, 22, bride lane, fleet street, e.c., they will be gratefully acknowledged. copyright. this book as a whole, with its contents, both literary and pictorial, is copyrighted in great britain. advertising. local.--terms for advertising in future issues of this handbook will be forwarded on application to the general manager of the homeland association, at the above address. general.--contracts for the insertion of advertisements through the whole series of homeland handbooks, more than fifty volumes, circulating through the country, can be arranged on application to the general manager. _contents._ _author's preface_ 7 _dedication_ 8 _introduction_ 9 _i.--early british churches_ 19 _ii.--early church architecture_ 26 _iii.--the saxon and norman styles_ 31 _iv.--the early english style_ 47 _v.--the decorated style_ 57 _vi.--the perpendicular style_ 64 _vii.--the renaissance and later_ 74 _viii.--church furniture and ornaments_ 80 _ix.--bells and belfries_ 95 _x.--the spire: its origin and development_ 99 _xi.--stained glass_ 104 _xii.--crypts_ 109 _xiii.--how to describe an old church_ 111 _appendix--a glossary of the principal terms used in ecclesiastical architecture_ 115 _bibliography_ 123 _index_ 124 _list of illustrations._ plates. 1 _foundations of a romano-british church_ _frontispiece_ 2 _the church of st. margaret, lynn_ 52 3 _a fine perpendicular tower, st. mary, taunton_ 72 4 _sedilia and chantry, luton_ 88 * * * * * _the various forms of arches_ 10 _plan of a typical gothic cruciform parish church, luton_ 12 _examples of gothic windows_ 15 _examples of buttresses_ 17 _a rood screen, with a restoration of the rood_ 20 _the church of s. martin, canterbury_ 22 _window built with roman brick, swanscombe_ 24 _a reputed saxon doorway, bishopstone_ 30 _tower of earls' barton church_ 33 _an example of norman tower, bishopstone_ 34 _a norman pier arcade, abbots langley_ 36 _examples of norman mouldings_ 37 _a late norman parish church, castle rising_ 38 _west doorway, rochester cathedral_ 40 _tympanum of norman doorway, fordington st. george_ 41 _examples of norman capitals_ 42 _a curious norman capital, seaford_ 43 _norman and early english doorways, dunstable priory church_ 45 _windows, showing the origin of tracery_ 47 _an early english arch, rochester cathedral_ 48 _wall arcading, showing junction of norman and early english masonry, dunstable priory church_ 50 _an early english doorway, huntingdon_ 51 _a group of thirteenth century lancet windows, ockham_ 53 _salisbury cathedral_ 55 _examples of early english capitals and ornament_ 56 _a late decorated window in a parish church, east sutton_ 59 _examples of decorated ornament_ 61 _examples of perpendicular ornament_ 64 _early perpendicular parish church, yeovil_ 65 _a fine parish church, showing rich perpendicular work, terrington st. clement, norfolk_ 67 _a perpendicular doorway, merton college_ 68 _a perpendicular porch, king's lynn_ 71 _an english renaissance church, s. stephen, walbrook_ 78 _a typical cornish font_ 80 _the sanctuary knocker, durham cathedral_ 82 _the baptistery in luton church_ 83 _an example of a leaden font of the late norman period_ 85 _a reputed saxon font, shaldon_ 86 _a detached holy-water stoup of unusual design_ 87 _a typical somerset bench-end, spaxton_ 89 _a richly-carved pulpit and canopy, edlesborough_ 91 _screen with rood loft, kenton_ 93 _the carved oak balustrade in compton church_ 94 _bell turret for three bells, radipole_ 98 _the best example of a saxon spire or pyramidal roof, sompting_ 100 _leighton buzzard church, with early english tower and spire_ 102 _a parish church with a shingle broach spire, edenbridge_ 105 _interior elevation of a bay of a church_ 114 _styles of english architecture._ the following periods of architectural style may be of use for the purpose of reference, but it must be borne in mind that they are more or less approximate, as each style merged by slow degrees into the next. _norman._--william i. to stephen. 1066-1154. _transition norman._--henry ii. 1154-1189. _early english gothic._--richard i. to henry iii. 1189-1272 _decorated._--edward i., ii., iii. 1272-1377. _perpendicular._--richard ii. to henry vii. 1377-1485. _tudor._--henry viii. to elizabeth. 1485-1600. mr. edmund sharpe gives seven periods of english architecture up to the time of the reformation, and dates them as follows:- _romanesque._ i. _saxon_ from ---to 1066 ii. _norman_ " 1066 " 1145 79 years iii. _transitional_ " 1145 " 1190 45 " _gothic._ iv. _lancet_ from 1190 to 1245 55 years v. _geometrical_ " 1245 " 1315 70 " vi. _curvilinear_ " 1315 " 1360 45 " vii. _rectilinear_ " 1360 " 1550 190 " preface. it is a truism that the history of building is the history of the civilized world, for of all the arts practised by man, there is none which conveys to us a clearer conception of the religion, history, manners, customs, ideals and follies of past ages, than the art of building. this applies in a special sense to cathedrals and churches, which glorious relics reflect and perpetuate the noble aim, the delicate thought, the refined and exquisite taste, the patient and painstaking toil which have been expended upon them by the devout and earnest craftsmen of the past. there are very few of our ancient churches in village, town or city which do not offer some feature of interest to the visitor, and in the absence of anything more important, there is sure to be some door, window, font, screen, or other detail which will amply repay him for the small amount of time spent in seeing it. the aim of the author of this little volume has been to indicate the symbolism and meaning attaching to the various portions of our churches and cathedrals, and to endeavour briefly to describe, in language as simple as the subject will allow, the various styles of ecclesiastical architecture with their distinctive characteristics in such a way as will enable the reader to assign each portion and detail of a church to its respective period with an approximate degree of accuracy. he does not claim to be original, but endeavours to be useful and interesting. the best authorities have been consulted and freely drawn upon, but with the object in view of writing a book at once thus useful and interesting, no attempt has been made to deal with the subject in a strictly architectural, or a purely scientific manner. weymouth, 1906. dedication. to all those who love old buildings--cathedrals, abbeys, and village churches, which breathe the spirit of an age with which we have entirely broken--and who would fain hand down to posterity, unmutilated, the great building achievements of our forefathers, which we, with all our science, wealth, and means of curtailing labour, can no more imitate than we can reproduce the language of a chaucer or a shakespeare; this book is respectfully dedicated. s. h. "_firm was their faith, the ancient bands, the wise of heart in wood and stone, who reared with stern and trusting hands those dark grey towers of days unknown; they filled the aisles with many a thought, they bade each nook some truth recall the pillared arch its legend brought, a doctrine came with roof and wall._" --hawker of morwenstow. our homeland churches and how to study them. introduction. however much we may admire, considered purely as art, the pagan temples of the greeks and romans, we must confess that they are lacking in those high ideals and those sustained and inspired motives which seem to penetrate and permeate the buildings and churches of the christian era. perfect as is greek art within its somewhat narrow limits, it is, nevertheless, cold, precise and lifeless. the gothic buildings on the contrary are pregnant with the very spirit of life. prompted by a deep and fervent faith in their religion, the gothic builders and sculptors unconsciously wove into the humblest of their architectural enrichments some portion of their daily life and personality. the slave-built temples of the greeks offered no scope for the exercise of individual expression--such, in fact, would have been strongly resented--whereas the early christian craftsman, revelling in his freedom, seized every opportunity of expressing in his work his joy, fear and hope of immortality. this is made apparent in the study of an old church, whereof every portion--door, window, bench-end, carving, gargoyle--has hidden about it some suggestion of beautiful thought, or some distinct and appropriate symbolism. the fact that symbolism underlies almost every such indication of mediæval thought is made abundantly manifest in the study of mediæval literature. open any 12th century treatise on morals, science or history, and you become aware of the fact at once. the main-spring of this symbolism, of all christian symbolism, turns on the parabolic meaning in the scheme of creation. the early writers were far less concerned with recording the plain objective facts of history, than in pursuing the allegory and the love of the marvellous, and showing all those characteristics of what we now term an unscientific attitude of mind. [illustration: the various forms of arches. norman. stilted. horse shoe. equilateral. lancet. drop. trefoil. trefoil. cinquefoil. ogee. four centered. tudor.] in its widest sense, symbolism means the expression of belief, and if we would interpret history aright, we must grasp the fact that the key to the character and disposition of peoples of all ages lies in the knowledge of their beliefs; for out of the beliefs of one age most surely grow the beliefs of its successors, and in no work of man's hand are the beliefs held by various peoples in past ages more clearly defined than in our cathedrals and churches, which noble buildings in every civilized country indicate principles as well as facts, influences as well as results; and while presenting the finest materials for æsthetic study, are no less useful as indicating the psychological peculiarities of those builders of old to whose condition they bear witness. in our grand specimens of ecclesiastical architecture, we may read the world's later history, and to-day they breathe the sombre reverential influence of a faith which sought to satisfy itself with the visible symbolizing of those half-poetical, half-superstitious conceptions with which the religion of the middle ages was so deeply imbued. an early development of decorative symbolic art, known as celtic, of which we have examples on old irish crosses, and particularly on illuminated mss. was wrought by the christian monks of the 7th and 8th centuries, but what is generally understood as christian symbolic art had its finest development about the 13th century. gothic art is essentially symbolic and in many instances, its individual forms have specific significance. thus the common equilateral triangle was used to symbolize the holy trinity, as are the two entwined triangles. other symbols employed at this period setting forth the mystery of the unity of the trinity, without beginning and without end, are three interlaced circles, and a very curious one is that in which three faces are so combined as to form an ornamental figure. baptism under the immediate sanction of the divine trinity was represented by three fishes placed together in the form of a triangle. so numerous, indeed were such christian symbols after the 9th century that a mere enumeration of them would occupy considerable space. every trefoil symbolized the holy trinity; every quatrefoil the four evangelists; every cross the crucifixion, or the martyrdom of some saint; and in gothic ornament and decoration, we find the chalice, the crown of thorns, the dice, the sop, the hammer and nails, the flagellum and other symbols of our lord's passion. [illustration: plan of a typical gothic cruciform parish church. (st. mary, luton, fully described in no. 47 of this series). _drawn by ed. craven lee._] although presenting the same characteristics in their external design, our town and village churches are very various. the simplest form, and the one most commonly found, is that of a nave and chancel, with a tower at the west end; to which plan may be added aisles and transepts, the latter often being wrongly called "cross-aisles." when the walls of the nave above the arcade rise above those of the aisles and are pierced with windows, the upper portion is called the clerestory, the meaning of which word is not free from obscurity; it seems probable that it indicates the clear story--the story which rises clear of the nave and aisles. in large buildings, they are important both for utility and beauty, but in small and early churches, they are of less importance. it is a well-known fact that the chancel and nave of a church generally stand east and west. this arrangement, called the orientation, is symbolic of the teaching that to the east we are to look for assistance and protection against the power of our enemy, and that as we pray we may look for the day-spring, symbolized to us in the rising sun that sheds light and warmth all over the earth. the public entrance to a church is generally at the west end (the priest usually had a door in the chancel for his own use). through this door we enter the house of prayer, for as in the east we see the emblem of the lord of life and light, so the west represents the seat of darkness and of the powers of evil. the earliest porches were those of the early christian basilica churches; they were long and arcaded and were called "narthex." in later times, they assumed two forms, one the projecting erection, covering the entrance and divided into three or more doorways, and the other a kind of covered chamber open at the end and having small windows at the sides. these latter are generally found on the north and south sides of the nave. formerly, when church government was more rigorous in discipline than is now the case, the porch was the appointed place for those who were under censure. those also who were unbaptised, or who had not yet received the sacrament of regeneration, were not allowed beyond the porch, not quite excluded from the church and yet not permitted to enter fully. the porch also served as a path of admission for all christians into the body of the church, so that they passed through the assembly of penitents and catechumens, who were wont to ask the prayers of the more highly privileged for their full restoration or admission to the communion of the faithful. with reference to our lord's word, "i am the door," we frequently find the tympana of church doors, particularly those of norman date, adorned with representations of events from his life, but they often also depict the monsters, dragons and devils, that formed so strong an article in the faith of the early christians. a more detailed account of these tympana will be found in a following chapter. passing through the porch we enter the nave, which word is derived from the latin _navis_, a ship. its symbolic teaching is that of the church riding triumphantly and buoyantly on the troubled and dark waters of the world. the first thing noticed on entering the nave is the font, which was formerly placed outside the church, in a separate building called the baptistery; a few of our churches have retained these little buildings which now form part of the churches proper. the reason in early days for placing the font outside the church was that the christian was not admitted into the nave until he had been baptised and confirmed, the latter rite being administered immediately after baptism. from the western door there is a clear passage through the centre of the nave, called the aisle, signifying the straight and narrow way from the seat of darkness to immortal life. on each side of this aisle are seats for the laity, with room for standing and kneeling. the nave was usually divided from the chancel by an open screen of wood or stone, signifying that although the christian might have some insight into the mysteries of the priest's office, at the same time these were to be partly concealed from his view. the rood screen was so called from the fact that the great rood, or crucifix, stood above it, not always on the screen itself, but on a separate beam, to which was often attached a rood loft or chamber. in early days, the lessons were read from the top of the rood screen, and in many of our churches the stairways leading thither have been retained. [illustration: examples of gothic windows. early english. decorated. perpendicular. see also page 59.] in churches where the screen has vanished, the division of the nave from the rest of the church is plainly marked by the chancel arch. the chancel is emblematic of the christian perfection, of the church triumphant in heaven. in an old church, a piscina is nearly always found in the chancel, and here, too, were the sedilia or seats for the officiating clergy, the prior, sub-prior, and the deacon, the last-named occupying the lowest seat. founders' tombs also nearly always occupy positions in the chancel, and these tombs differ from all others in that they form an integral part of the structure, and could not have been added after the church was completed. another thing sometimes to be seen is the ambery, or aumbry, a small cupboard let into the chancel wall, in which were kept the communion vessels, the chalice, paten, etc. the great object of interest, however, in the chancel, is the altar, which archbishop laud directed should be enclosed by rails, so that although the people may draw near, they cannot touch the holy table, but must accept from the hands of the priest those gifts of which he is the minister from god. altars are fully described in a following chapter, but we may here note that the reredos, so universally found in our cathedrals, abbeys, and in many of our churches, forms no part of the altar, and the court of arches has decided that there are no altars in the church of england, but only communion tables. prominent among the external enrichments of our churches is the gargoyle, a word derived from the french, "gargouille," which in its turn comes from the latin "gurgulio"--a water-spout. the earliest gargoyles are merely orifices with a lip to shoot the water well away from the fabric. the true gargoyle, however, was quickly evolved from this primitive form, and consists of two parts, the lower one forming the channel, the upper one being the cover. the full significance of the skill displayed by the old masons in the rare opportunity the gargoyle afforded them of representing the dragons, serpents, etc., in which their fancy revelled, is made apparent when we view the futile attempts of modern architects to introduce this feature in their churches, for modern gargoyles are generally grotesque caricatures, and anything but happy appendages to the buildings to which they are attached. [illustration: examples of buttresses. _norman_ _decorated_ _flying buttress_ _early english_ _perpendicular_ _drawn by e. m. heath._] the churchyard, so pleasing an adjunct to the house of god placed within it, is frequently approached through a lych-gate, which word is derived from the saxon _lich_, a corpse. these gates in our country churchyards are often very picturesque little structures, and under them the corpse at a funeral awaited the officiating priest before being taken into the church. the churchyard is commonly regarded as a mere dependency of the church, and as having a history very inferior in interest to that of the temple to which it is the court. the truth is that many of our churchyards have an antiquity far greater than that of the churches, as many of them constituted the open-air meeting-places of our saxon forefathers long before the erection of parish churches. in the common meeting-place a cross was set up, either of wood or stone, to mark and hallow the spot, and when a church was subsequently built it was usually in the immediate vicinity of the cross, which accounts for the fact that many churchyard crosses are of older date than the churches themselves. wells of water are often found in old churchyards, and as the regulations of the saxon church required immersion and not sprinkling, it is possible that these were the saxon fonts. such then is the necessarily brief attempt to describe the main lines on which our old churches were planned, and the motives and ideals which animated their builders, who, being impressed with the dignity and mystery of the works of god, made their churches symbolical of the portions of the christian life; the porch signifying baptism, the nave the life militant on earth, and the chancel the life eternal; while every little ornament, piece of sculpture and enrichment was designed to remind the worshippers of their faith, of its hopes, blessed promises and rewards. chapter i. early british churches. in dealing with the introduction of church architecture into our own land, the task would be much simplified if one could state with certainty when the first church was built on british soil. some historians assert that the church of england as it is constituted to-day dates no further back than the moment when s. augustine and his followers landed on the shores of kent in the year 596, yet one is probably justified in assuming that a church existed in these islands for centuries previous to the arrival of the roman missionaries. unfortunately we have no records to guide us as to the date of this earlier settlement, and the name of the first christian missionary to heathen britain has still to be discovered. "we see," says the quaint old historian, thomas fuller, "the light of the word shined here, but see not who kindled it." the first christian building of which we have any record was probably that erected at glastonbury before the year 300, but that this was the first christian settlement cannot be alleged with certainty. there are many traditions concerning the introduction of christianity into britain, some of which may probably have some bearing on the truth, but the whole subject is involved in considerable obscurity. one of these numerous traditions is to the effect that the british king caradoc, after being taken prisoner to rome, was allowed to return, on condition that several members of his family remained as hostages; and whilst serving in this capacity, his mother, son, and daughter are stated to have become converts to christianity, the doctrines of which faith they spread in their native land on their return thereto. another tradition is to the effect that s. paul himself visited britain and laid the foundation of the christian faith. we are also told by eminent church historians that the father and grandfather of s. patrick were christians, in which case s. patrick himself would from a very early age have been brought up in the tenets of their faith. he is said to have been seized by pirates in the clyde and taken to the north of ireland, and eventually to gaul. he was subsequently restored to his friends, whom he wished to convert to the christian faith, and for this purpose his father sent him to be taught in the schools of tours, auxerre and lerins. eventually he was consecrated bishop of the irish and organized an efficient ecclesiastical system in ireland. [illustration: a rood screen with a restoration of the rood. kenn, devon. _photograph by chapman._] before the coming of the anglo-saxons the church seems to have established a firm hold on the people, who held tenaciously to their possessions, both secular and religious, which were only wrested from them after a severe struggle. their enthusiastic love of christianity led them to make a heroic defence of the churches, rather than see them fall into the hands of the heathen anglo-saxons. the historian bede tells us that all their buildings were destroyed, the priests' blood was spilt upon the altars, prelates and people were slain with the sword, and all the cities and churches were burnt to the ground. when all was lost and there was no longer a church or home to defend, the britons retired to the country of their fellow-christians, the secluded and almost impenetrable hills and forests of the west. the anglo-saxon love of gold was quickly recognised by the people of west wales who saved their property and bought the right of worshipping after the manner of their fathers by the payment of an annual tribute to their conquerors. [side note: church of s. piran, perranporth.] so ruthlessly indeed did the anglo-saxons rase to the ground the early churches, that, until a few years ago, but few traces of these early buildings were thought to exist. an accidental discovery, however, in the year 1835, brought to light an undoubted relic of an early british church in the west, this being the remains of a little church which had been until the date above mentioned completely buried in the sand on the sea coast near perranporth in cornwall. they are thought by ecclesiologists to be the remains of the original church erected to the memory of s. piran, a cornish missionary and a friend of s. patrick, who was buried within its walls before the year 500 a.d. on removing the sand, the accumulated deposit of centuries, the church was found to have consisted of a nave and chancel containing a stone altar. [illustration: the church of s. martin, canterbury.] the building measured 29 feet in length, 16-1/3 feet in width and 19 feet from the floor to the roof, and probably shares with s. mary's church in dover castle, and s. martin's, canterbury, the honour of being one of the earliest links we possess with the ancient british church. s. mary's, dover, appears to have been built of roman bricks and cement, a combination which antiquaries consider is found only in those buildings which were erected during the roman occupation. [side note: s. martin's canterbury.] s. martin's church, canterbury has many claims to be considered one of our most interesting churches, no less on account of its associations than for its structural interest. the date of its building has been a source of endless controversy, as it contains many features attributable to either roman or saxon architecture. it is thought that it may possibly have been used for worship by the christian soldiers of the roman army. be this as it may, it is established beyond doubt that it was the oratory of queen bertha, the first english christian queen, who here worshipped, with her chaplain liudhard, long before the advent of s. augustine, who himself in later times preached here; and within the walls of this cradle of english christianity, ethelbert, king of kent, the husband of queen bertha was baptized. the venerable bede, writing within a hundred years of the death of s. augustine states that there was in 597 a.d. in canterbury, a church "dedicated to the honour of s. martin and built while the romans still occupied britain." on the departure of the romans it is probable that the church was still used by a small band of christian worshippers until the heathen jutes overran the isle of thanet in 449. little is known of the progress of christianity on this island from that date until the landing of s. augustine in 597, and the first fruits of his mission, as we have seen, was the conversion and baptism of king ethelbert. as one would naturally expect, the aspect of the structure to-day, though suggestive of antiquity, is lacking in uniformity of treatment. the brick courses in the nave are at irregular intervals, varying from nine to twenty inches apart, the spaces being filled with kentish rag-stone and occasional blocks of chalk. the chancel extends eighteen or twenty feet east of the arch and is composed of roman bricks, evenly laid and averaging four bricks to a foot. [illustration: an ancient window built with roman brickwork. swanscombe, kent. _photograph mr. g. h. smith._] the chancel was lengthened at the beginning of the thirteenth century and again at a more recent date, so that its architecture to-day is of three distinct periods. outside may be seen five flat pilaster buttresses and one semi-circular one, a square-headed roman doorway, a saxon doorway and two early english porches; and there is also a nearly circular panel on the south side of the nave, and a norman squint at the west end. there are many other features of interest which bear evidences of a great antiquity, and the only question which is seriously disputed is whether the earliest portion of the present nave was built about the end of the roman occupation of britain or during the mission of s. augustine. the rev. charles f. routledge, m.a., f.s.a., hon. canon of canterbury cathedral, writes: "whatever may finally be determined to be the date of the church's foundation, it can never lose its unique association with s. augustine, king ethelbert and queen bertha, nor its undisputed claim to be the oldest existing church in england. from it flowed the tiny spring of english christianity, which has since widened out into a mighty river, and penetrated the remotest parts of the civilized and uncivilized world." [side note: other early churches.] among other churches which show signs of having been built during the roman occupation are those of reculver, richborough and lyminge, while the foundations of an undoubted early church have been discovered in the old roman city of silchester, in hampshire. _see frontispiece._ the old church at reculver stood originally within the roman castrum, the fortress which guarded the northern mouth of the wantsume, now a small stream, but once an arm of the sea dividing the isle of thanet from the mainland. the greater part of this church was pulled down in 1809, but the western towers, known as "the sisters" were repaired by trinity house, as they constitute a useful landmark for mariners, being visible at a great distance. reculver church was built about a.d. 670, and from the existing walls and foundations it is clear that its plan was basilican. the church is now a ruin, but some stone pillars which supported the arches are preserved in the cathedral close at canterbury. as reculver guarded the northern mouth of the watercourse, so richborough protected the south, and here traces of a chapel in the form of a cross are plainly discernible amongst ruins known to be of roman workmanship. the old church at lyminge in the same county is thus described by canon jenkyns, in his "_history of lyminge_":--"the roman foundations discoverable at the south-east angle of the chancel, together with the remarkable half-arch that intervenes, marked the site of the _aquilonalis porticus_--the title of basilica already given to it in the seventh century establishes its claim to great antiquity." we thus see that although remains of the actual buildings in which the british christians worshipped are few in number, yet enough are left us to prove conclusively that there was a very active and zealous christian community established in these islands during at least the period immediately preceding that in which rome withdrew her legions from britain in order to defend italy against the goths, and abandoned our island to the mercy of her foes. chapter ii. early church architecture. in the early years of the christian church, when its members became sufficiently free from persecution to erect buildings for the purpose of worship, they were naturally anxious to avoid any of the forms peculiar to either heathen or jewish temples. some model, however, was necessary, and their choice being limited, they appear to have adopted the simple style of the roman basilica, or court of justice. there was an adaptability about the general plan of such a building which rendered its selection natural and not inappropriate, while the dignified simplicity of its construction and the object for which it was primarily founded--the dispensation of justice--commended it no doubt in the first instance as a model for the primitive christian church. these basilicæ were usually enclosures surrounded by a colonnade, sometimes roofed, but more often open to the air, and designedly built for the purpose of being accessible to all members of the community at all times of the day. they appear occasionally to have been used for the transaction of ordinary business in which they would closely resemble our exchanges. be this as it may, this form of architecture has left its impress on many christian buildings, and the name of basilica, for a church, is still used in many parts of italy. the roman basilica was usually in the form of a parallelogram, with a seat for the judges at one end, and in their adaptation of this form of building, the early christians devoted this place to the purposes of an altar. this, by an easy and natural transition, is thought to have given rise to the formation of the semi-circular recess at one end of the building, known as the apse (from the latin _apsis_, a bow or arch), which is still to be found in some of our older churches. being thus roman in the nature of their ground plan, it is not surprising to find that other portions of the early christian buildings show decided characteristics of a roman style. on the destruction of the pagan temples by order of the emperor constantine about the year 330, much of their material was built into the earliest christian churches, and the roman character of their design being prevalent, they formed a style of architecture which has been designated romanesque, of which the later styles, known here as saxon and norman were largely modifications. there is no reason to doubt that the earliest christian churches were very unpretentious in form and that some time elapsed before there was anything which could be called a definite church architecture, beyond that to which we have alluded. nevertheless, as the church strengthened her position and grew in security, more attention was devoted to the subject of its edifices, and the departure in time from the original ground plan furnished an opportunity for the introduction of a more symbolical and appropriate design. the plan of the old basilica was abandoned for one in the form of the cross, the accepted symbol of the christian religion, which departure, however, did not involve any very great alteration from the old ground plan. we come then to the time when one or other of the forms known as the latin or the greek cross--whichever was most convenient--was usually employed in a building designed for christian worship, and these forms are universally found in the most elaborate structures of which the christian church can boast. as time passed, these cruciform churches were surmounted with a dome, steeple, or tower at the point where the members of the cross intersected each other. at first the most prominent of these external adornments was the dome; a characteristic of the architecture of eastern europe, which acquired the name byzantine, from its having been carried to great perfection in byzantium (constantinople), the capital of the eastern empire. the church of s. sophia, which was built, much as it now exists, early in the sixth century, and was afterwards converted into a mosque, is an almost perfect example of the byzantine style. in this building we find the roman arch used in a variety of ways, while the dome itself is formed entirely of this arch used as the crowning work of the edifice. eastern churches in this style usually took the form of the greek cross, this form being better calculated to support the weight of the cupola. in western europe, however, where the flat squat tower afterwards developed into the steeple, as we shall see in a later chapter, the latin cross was mostly used, and this, with a few notable exceptions, is the plan of most western churches. with writers of about fifty years ago, it was a favourite theory that the christians converted the old basilicæ into churches, and that the "halls of justice" erected by the romans in this country were also converted into christian churches, and some authorities point to the walls and arches of brixworth church in confirmation of this theory. the late mr. j. w. brewer, however, stated that unfortunately for this theory, no single example of a basilica being converted into a church has been found in this country and he himself held the theory that the word basilica was used by the romans to describe any building which was supported by internal columns, and in that way the name came to be applied to christian churches. as we have seen, the early christians, after a short time, became dissatisfied with these buildings adapted from pagan types, and the byzantine form of church arose, the first people who practised this style of building being the greeks. the style spread with rapidity all over the east, the great church of s. sophia being its largest example and the smaller, but more perfect, church of s. mark at venice giving us the best idea of this form of church architecture. largely modelled on this style, also, are the circular baptisteries of italy and the round churches of england, france and germany, the modern russian churches and all the mohammedan mosques. the latin churches did not greatly favour this style and their use of it was confined, with few exceptions, to baptisteries, monumental chapels and the like, but for parochial, cathedral and monastic churches, the oblong plan was retained and ultimately developed into the gothic church with its nave, transepts and chancel. the changes which the christian basilica at first underwent were simple, _viz._, the use of the arch instead of the straight lintel, or the placing of an entablature between the columns; a little later, about the tenth century, the old wooden roof of the basilica gave place to the arched roof or vaulting, so called from its being composed of a series of vaults. the styles called romanesque and lombardic are but geographical varieties of the same architecture and from these the saxon and norman styles were soon to be developed. the vaulted basilica church soon became common over the north of europe, the two most important and practically unaltered examples being the cathedrals of speyer and worms, in germany, although our anglo-saxon cathedrals of peterborough, ely and norwich may, so far as regards their naves, be justly regarded as the offspring of the vaulted basilica style of building. when the old basilica style of church with its heavy beam roof and its innumerable columns had ceased to satisfy the lofty aspirations of latin christianity, and when the greeks had inaugurated a new style of church architecture, only two courses were left to the latins, either to adopt the greek style in its entirety, or to improve upon the basilica type. fortunately, although after considerable hesitation, they chose the latter alternative, the result being the genesis of our glorious cathedrals with their long naves and aisles, deep transepts and beautiful variety of form and outline. [illustration: a reputed saxon doorway. bishopstone, sussex. _photograph mr. w. hodgson._] chapter iii. the saxon and norman styles. as we have seen in the previous chapter, the whole subject of pre-saxon church building is still very obscure, and for some considerable time after the anglo-saxon invasion little is known concerning church architecture, nor has it yet been fully ascertained whether any buildings of this period exist. by the year 588 the saxons were in complete possession of the land. christianity was to all appearance wiped out and the church, to the superficial observer was dead. in his "_history of english church architecture_," scott expresses the opinion that the oldest english churches may be divided into three groups. first, those which preceded the danish invasion; secondly, those from the above epoch to the invasion of sweyn; and thirdly, those onward to the norman conquest. [side note: saxon architecture.] what exactly constituted saxon architecture has long been a controversial point and one which will probably never be definitely settled. parker, in his "_glossary of architecture_," says:- "for a considerable time, after they (the anglo-saxons) had established themselves in this country, their buildings were of wood, and this appears to have been the prevailing material employed at the time of the conquest, although stone had been occasionally used several centuries earlier.... no timber-work of saxon date can be in existence at the present time, but it is contended by some antiquaries that several of our churches exhibit specimens of saxon masonry; the truth of this theory, however, is not fully established, nor has the subject of saxon architecture been yet sufficiently investigated to clear away the obscurity in which it is involved." probably few of our so-called saxon churches were built earlier than thirty or forty years before the norman conquest, and it seems certain that for some years after they had settled in england, the normans employed saxon masons to build in the saxon manner, as is seen by the tower of s. michael's church, oxford, which, although showing all the characteristics of reputed saxon masonry was built many years after the battle of hastings. certain it is that these pre-norman buildings in england were singularly rude and rough and show how much our saxon ancestors were, at that period, behind the italians, french and germans in architectural skill. [side note: saxon churches.] our best examples containing saxon work are possibly the churches at sompting and bishopstone, sussex; bradford-on-avon; wootton wawen (sub-structure of tower); wing; brixworth, and barnack, northants; greenstead in essex; and s. martin's at wareham, dorset. of towers of this date the best are possibly those of s. mary's and s. peter's, lincoln and s. benet's, cambridge. of crypts, the finest examples are at ripon cathedral, york minster (part) and s. mary's church, york. in addition to these, many other churches have chancel arches, doorways or some other less important features which are considered to be of saxon origin. these early buildings generally show the semi-circular arch on the doorways, but the windows usually have a triangular head; at sompting church, however, the windows have the semi-circular arch. it is necessary to say a few words in detail about the more important churches of this era. [side note: s. lawrence, bradford-on-avon.] the church of s. lawrence at bradford-on-avon is one of the oldest unaltered churches in england, and it seems to be beyond question that it is the actual church built by ealdhelm at the beginning of the eighth century and dedicated by him to s. lawrence. it consists of a chancel, nave and north porch, and among its remarkable features is its great height and the extreme narrowness of the round-headed arch between the nave and the chancel, a feature it has in common with the saxon church of s. martin at wareham; the ground-plan measurements of both these churches are identical. at s. lawrence's church, an incised arcade is seen outside the walls, and on either side of the west aspect of the chancel arch are two sculptured figures of angels, which are thought to represent the earliest extant fragments of church carving in england. [side note: brixworth, earls' barton and barnack.] brixworth church is possibly older than s. lawrence's and it is said to have been in continuous use for divine service ever since it was erected. the tower appears to be of rather later date than the nave and rests upon the walls of a "narthex" or portico, which may have extended along the whole breadth of the front, as is still to be seen in churches at rome and ravenna. the curious pile of masonry built up against the tower may have been added for defence, as it could hardly have formed part of the original design. [illustration: tower of earls' barton church. generally considered to show characteristics of saxon masonry.] earls' barton and barnack churches both have towers so covered with narrow projecting strips of stonework that the surface of the walls appears divided into rudely formed panels. the west doorways of both show primitive imitations of roman mouldings in the imposts and architraves. the tower of earls' barton consists of four stages, each of which is slightly smaller than the one below. in that of barnack church, the upper stages of the tower represent the period of transition from norman to early english. [illustration: an example of a norman tower. bishopstone, sussex. _homeland copyright._] s. michael's, oxford, has a massive tower of solid masonry, unpierced in its lowest stage by either door or window, the second stage shows but one window and the highest is pierced by several windows of more elaborate construction. [side note: st. michael's church, oxford.] although generally consisting of rubble and stone, saxon churches were sometimes built of wood as we see from the existing nave of the parish church of greenstead, essex. [side note: greenstead church, essex.] a brick chancel has been added at the east and a timber belfry at the west end, but the old saxon portion is composed of large chestnut trees split asunder and set upright close to each other with the round side outwards. the ends are roughly hewn so as to fit into a sill at the bottom, and into a plate at the top, where they are fastened with wooden pins. there are 16 logs on the south side where are two doorposts, and on the north side twenty-one logs and two spaces now filled with rubble. there is a tradition that this church was erected to receive the body of s. edmund, on its return from london to bury, in 1013. the semi-circular arch has long been considered to be one of the most distinctive marks of norman architecture, but mr. rickman, who made an exhaustive study of the early churches of france and england, says:- "in various churches it has happened that a very plain arch between nave and chancel has been left as the only norman feature, while both nave and chancel have been rebuilt at different times; but each leaving the chancel arch standing. i am disposed to think that some of these plain chancel arches, will, on minute examination, turn out to be of saxon origin." it would be tedious to enter into any more minute account of the anglo-saxon ecclesiastical remains, and the reader whose enquiries conduct him to the more elaborate works on the subject will be startled by the contrary opinions that he will surely encounter. in concluding these brief remarks on early buildings, we must again quote from parker's work to which reference has already been made:- "the class of buildings referred to as being considered to belong to this style contain some rather unusual features, and they require to be particularly described, both because they are in themselves remarkable, and because there is a probability that some of them may be saxon." [illustration: a norman pier arcade. abbots langley, herts. _photograph mr. a. w. anderson._] the norman style of church architecture with its varied forms of columns, moulded and recessed arches and vaulting, may be roughly stated to have been introduced into england at the time of the conquest. the saxon masons do not appear to have understood vaulting sufficiently well to have roofed over any large space with stone, and for this reason alone the saxon form of building was bound to give way before the norman, which of all the earlier styles was the most advanced in this respect. [side note: norman architecture.] generally speaking, norman arches were semi-circular, but they were by no means universally so, for a form frequently found is one in which the spring of the arch does not take place from the abacus, or upper member of the capital, but at some distance above it and when it assumes this form it is called a "stilted" arch, suggested by some authorities to have been unintentional and the result of imperfect construction or planning. _see page 10._ [illustration: examples of norman mouldings. chevron or zig-zag. star. alternate billet. square billet. double cone. lozenge. beak head. bird head.] the main features in the ornamentation of this period are the sculptured bands worked round the arches, which, although generally called "mouldings," are more in the nature of decoration, and in some instances they appear to be additions carved on the originally unadorned surface of the masonry. [side note: ornament.] the earliest and most general ornament is the chevron or zig-zag, which is frequently found doubled, trebled and quadrupled. the next most common form is the beak-head, consisting of a hollow and large round. in the hollow are placed heads of beasts or birds whose tongues or beaks encircle the round. on the west doorway of iffley church, oxford, are many of these beak-heads extending the whole length of the jamb down to the base moulding. they also figure prominently among the ornamentations of the hospital church of s. cross, near winchester. the zig-zag moulding is very common on norman churches and is so easily recognised that no further description is needed here. the less prominent decorations of norman mouldings include the alternate billet, the double cone, and the lozenge, together with an immense number of others less commonly found. [side note: windows.] the early norman window was little better than a narrow slit finished with a plain semi-circular head, and was generally only a few inches wide. they were, it is believed, filled with oiled linen and the sides of the aperture were splayed towards the interior. later in the period, the windows were enriched by the zig-zag and other mouldings and at a still later period an improvement was made by inserting nook-shafts in the jambs similar to those in doorways. [illustration: a late norman parish church. castle rising, norfolk. _drawn by gordon home._] the towers of norman churches often show windows of two lights separated by a central shaft, all enclosed under a large semi-circular arch, the spandrel of which is rarely pierced. plain circular windows of small dimensions are sometimes found in other positions and in churches of later date, and occasionally in gable walls. larger windows of the same form, with small shafts radiating from the centre and connected at the circumference by semi-circular or trefoiled arches, are also found as at barfreston church, kent, where there is a fine example. [side note: doorways.] norman doorways are found in great numbers and variety, even in churches which present no other features in this style. the most usual form consists of a semi-circular-headed aperture with a hood-mould springing from plain square-edged jambs. frequently, however, the doorways are recessed, having a nook-shaft in the angle formed by a recession from the capital, in which case it presents two soffits and two faces, besides the hood-moulds. the depth of these doorways is largely due to the great thickness of the walls usual in buildings of this period, but in many cases that portion of the wall in which the entrance is inserted is made to project forward beyond the general face, which projection is finished either with plain horizontal capping, or a high-pitched gable. [illustration: _west doorway rochester cathedral_ duncan moul.] norman porches thus have generally but little projection, and are frequently so flat as to be little more than outer mouldings to the inner door. they are, however, often richly ornamented and have rooms above, which rooms are wrongly called "parvises." the shallow aperture often follows the form of the arch, but is frequently square-headed, having a semi-circular tympanum of masonry filling the space between the lintel of the door and the intrados of the arch. [illustration: tympanum of norman doorway. fordington s. george, dorset. _drawn by e. m. heath._] these tympana are usually sculptured in low relief with a representation of some scriptural or traditional event, while the assertion of the apostle that "we must, through much tribulation, enter into the kingdom of god," may account for the fondness of the norman sculptors in representing different stages of martyrdom on the tympana of their doors. a very singular tympanum is that on the door of the church of fordington s. george, at dorchester, whereon is represented some incident in the life of s. george. the principal figure is on horseback with a discus round his head. the other figures are in hauberks and chausses, and generally bear, in point of costume, much resemblance to the figures on the famous bayeux tapestry. barfreston church, kent, has an interesting tympanum, as also has patrixbourne church in the same county, where the sculpture shows the saviour with dragons and at his feet a dog. at alveston church, warwickshire, the sculpture shows two quadrupeds with enormous tails, fighting, with between them a small bird, possibly intended for a dove. our best example of a norman doorway and tympanum is generally considered to be the west doorway of rochester cathedral, where the sculpture is of a very advanced character for its date, which is probably about 1130-40. [side note: piers.] a distinctive feature of the norman style are the massive pillars, usually circular, and with capitals either of the same form, or square; occasionally in plain buildings the pillars themselves are square with very little or no ornamentation. towards the end of the period, an octagonal pillar was often used, having a much lighter appearance than the earlier forms. [illustration: examples of capitals. norman. transitional. norman. crypt, winchester. christ church, oxford. winchester cathedral.] besides these plain styles, compound or clustered piers are very numerous, differing considerably in plan; the simplest consists of a square having one or more rectangular recesses at each corner, but one more frequently met with has a small circular shaft in each of the recesses and a larger semi-circular one on each side of the square. [side note: capitals.] norman capitals are very varied, having many different forms of ornamentation; the commonest is one which resembles a bowl with the sides truncated, reducing the upper part to a square; sometimes the lower part is cut into round mouldings and ornamented, but it is frequently left plain. the norman capital in its earliest style was of short proportions, but afterwards it became longer, with lighter ornamentation, gradually merging into the early english. [illustration: a curious norman capital. seaford, sussex.] the bishops and abbots of this period appear to have possessed considerable skill in architecture, for no fewer than fifteen of our english cathedrals contain some important norman work, as the older portions of the cathedrals of canterbury, durham, winchester, gloucester, peterborough, ely, norwich, lincoln and oxford. [side note: norman buttresses.] the norman buttress, better described by mr. sharpe as a pilaster strip, unlike those of the later period, projects but very little from the wall, and this is especially so in buildings of the earlier part of the period. they are usually quite plain and are more used for finish than actual support; the norman builder relying principally upon the thickness and weight of his walls to sustain any roof thrust (_see page 17_). [side note: the round churches.] there are in england a few round churches which are thought to have been built by the knights templars, a religious community banded together for the purpose of wresting the holy sepulchre at jerusalem from the saracens. their object was to defend the saviour's tomb and to guard palestine, for which purpose they built numerous monasteries throughout the holy land and fortified them like castles. another famous order which combined the religious instincts of the cloister with the military ardour of the warrior was that of the knights of s. john baptist or knights hospitallers, who, besides fighting, were to tend the sick and provide for the welfare of all christian travellers. the churches belonging to the templars were usually built in circular form in imitation of the church of the holy sepulchre at jerusalem. they were capped with vaulted concave roofs said to be symbolical of the vast circuit and concave of the heavens. our best example is the temple church, london, to which was added at a later period, a beautiful early english gothic extension. other round churches are those of s. sepulchre, cambridge; s. sepulchre, northampton; temple balsall, warwickshire, and of little maplestead, essex, which last, although the smallest, is by no means the least interesting. it is attributed to the hospitallers, an order founded about the year 1092, and introduced into england in the reign of henry i. at clerkenwell may still be seen the ancient gateway leading to their hospital. the order was suppressed in 1545. the church at little maplestead was built early in the 12th century, and in 1186 the adjoining manor was given by juliana doisnel to this order, which gift was confirmed by king john and henry iii. this church is thought to reproduce with more fidelity than the others the original church of the holy sepulchre. [illustration: norman and early english doorways. showing the transition from one style to another. dunstable priory church. _drawn by worthington g. smith._] these famous norman round-chancelled churches have much in common with the old basilica form. it must be pointed out that the arbitrary divisions into which architecture has been divided--norman, gothic, etc., are pure figures of the imagination, as by a series of easy transitions, one style became gradually merged into the next without any hard and fast dividing lines whatever. the periods during which one style became gradually blended into another are called the periods of transition. [side note: the transition.] architecture being progressive, it was only by the gradual development of one style from another that the art was enabled to advance with social progress, the literature and other arts of the country. the transition from the norman to the early english style may be ascribed to a period somewhat earlier than the 12th century, when a great change in the construction of the arch began to manifest itself. alone, however, the form of the arch is no real test, for many pure norman works have pointed arches. the square abacus may be taken as the best test. in its incipient state the pointed arch exhibited a change of form only, whilst the accessories and details remained the same as before; and although this change gradually led to the early pointed style in a pure state, with mouldings and features altogether distinct from those of the norman, and to the general disuse, in the 13th century, of the semi-circular arch, it was for a while so intermixed as, from its first appearance to the close of the 12th century, to constitute that state of transition called the semi-norman. [illustration: windows showing the origin of tracery.] chapter iv. the early english style. the origin of what is loosely called gothic architecture--which is generally considered to include the styles, with their transitions, from early english to late perpendicular, or tudor-gothic--is not free from obscurity, but it is certain that it began to be employed in ecclesiastical edifices about the time that the goths settled in italy, although all the available evidence goes to prove that the style originated and underwent its earliest developments in the north-west of europe, and penetrated by slow degrees to the south and east. england was somewhat later than france in introducing this style of architecture, our earliest purely gothic building being salisbury cathedral, begun in 1220, although the choirs of rievaulx and fountains abbey were commenced a few years earlier. the early english style in its earliest developments is nowhere seen to better advantage than in salisbury cathedral, and in its very latest forms at westminster abbey, the period of time being chronologically measured by the reigns of richard i., john and henry iii. [illustration: an early english arch. rochester cathedral. _photograph eastmead._] most of our gothic buildings were carried out under the supervision of a master-mason, but the most subordinate workman was left plenty of scope within reasonable limits for whatever artistic individuality he possessed, and the enrichments and ornaments of the gothic era point out the noble aim, the delicate and graceful thought, the refined and exquisite taste expended upon every portion of their buildings by these gothic masons. [side note: the pointed arch.] one of the chief differences between pure gothic and norman architecture is in the use of the pointed form of arch, yet in the study of the early buildings of this date it is curious to notice how evenly the balance is held between the pointed and the round arch, and how at one time it was quite an open question whether the gothic style would be distinguished by a round or a pointed arch. in germany and italy the round arch held its own and continued to be used right through the middle ages. in england, however, the pointed arch soon gained a decided victory over its rival. many theories have been put forward concerning the introduction of the pointed arch, one amongst them being that it was the result of the intersection of two circular arches such as is very commonly found in late norman work; another theory is the poetical idea that it was copied from an avenue of trees. whether or not either of these theories holds good, it is quite certain that this form of arch was known in the east for centuries before it reached europe, being found in cisterns and tombs in egypt and arabia dating from long before the christian era. it has also been suggested that it was introduced from the east by the crusaders, in which case we should have found it making its first appearance in hungary, poland, bohemia and russia, but it so happens that these were the very last countries in europe to adopt the pointed arch. [side note: the transitional period.] the first form of the pointed arch, known as the early english, was used from about 1180 to 1300, including part of the reigns of henry ii., richard i., john, henry iii. and edward i. "nothing," says the rev. j. m. hutchinson, "could be more striking than the change from norman to early english. the two styles were the complete opposites of each other; the round arch was replaced by the pointed, often by the acute, lancet; the massive piers by graceful clustered shafts; the grotesque and rudely-sculptured capitals by foliage of the most exquisite character; and the heavy cylindrical mouldings by bands of deeply undercut members." [illustration: arcading showing the junction of the norman and early english masonry. dunstable priory church. _photograph h. a. strange._] gothic architecture differs from all previous forms in the economical use of material, and the small size of the stones used. whereas in both roman and norman buildings the arrangement of the materials depended upon their strength in masses, the gothic masons employed stones of small size in the construction of edifices of equal strength and of far greater magnificence; while in constructive properties the gothic style was a great advance on anything that had gone before, as the buildings in this style did not depend for their stability on the vertical pressure of columns, but on the correct adjustment of the bearings and thrusts of different arches operating in various directions. owing to the fact, then, that each portion of a gothic church helps to support something besides itself, it is obvious that such buildings could be erected with a far smaller quantity of material than was previously necessary. the various little shafts or columns are so disposed as to distribute the weight of the superstructure and thus relieve the greater columns or piers of some portion of the superincumbent weight; the aisles help to support the nave; the walls of the side chapels act as abutments against the walls of the aisles, while the towers are generally placed so as to resist the accumulated thrust of all the arches along the sides of the nave. [illustration: an early english doorway. huntingdon.] the enrichments and little ornaments attached to mouldings, and particularly those placed in the hollows, are most characteristic of the various styles of gothic architecture. the zig-zag is peculiar to the norman, the nail head to the transitional or semi-norman, and the dog tooth to the early english. [side note: early english ornament.] this last ornament represents a flower, looking like four sweet almonds arranged pyramidically, and there is no other ornament so distinctive of this period. early english foliage is known by reason of the stalks always being shown as growing upwards from the lower ring of the capital, called the astrigal. these stalks are generally grouped together and curve forward in a very graceful manner. the plants mostly represented are the wild parsley, seakale and celery, and this foliage, called stiff-leaved foliage, is found at no other period than the end of the 12th century. [side note: early english mouldings.] early english mouldings are very complicated and yet very beautiful, and consist of beads, keel and scroll patterns, separated by deep hollows giving a rich effect of light and shade round the arch. these deeply-cut hollows are also a distinctive mark of the style. [side note: early english windows.] the earliest windows of this period are long and narrow, with acutely pointed heads, the exterior angle being merely chamfered and the interior widely splayed. somewhat later the introduction of tracery gave a highly beautiful appearance to the windows and from the character of this feature the date of the window can be fairly accurately determined. where the tracery is formed by ornamental apertures pierced through a plate of stone, it is called plate tracery, and is certain to be of not later date than the earlier part of the 13th century. if it is bar tracery, with the bars forming plain circles, the work is also early english, but if, on the other hand, the bars form other shapes filled in with patterns, or consisting of a single trefoil or quatrefoil, they are of later date. [illustration: the church of st. margaret, lynn. west front showing the early english work in the base of the tower. _photograph dexter & son._] [illustration: example of group of thirteenth century lancet windows. ockham, surrey. _homeland copyright._] the traceried window originated from the placing of a two-light narrow lancet window under one dripstone having a plain head, the introduction of tracery between the heads of the lancets and the dripstone becoming necessary for beauty and lightness of the form (_see page 47_). [side note: early english porches.] early english porches project much further from the main walls than do the norman doorways, and in large and important buildings they frequently have a room above. the gables are usually bold and high pitched, and the interiors quite as rich in design as are the exteriors. [side note: early english doorways.] the doorways of this period are usually pointed, though occasionally they have a semi-circular head. the mouldings are boldly cut and often enriched with dog tooth ornament. the jambs frequently contain a shaft or shafts with plain or foliated capitals (_see page 51_). [side note: early english capitals and piers.] early english capitals are usually bell-shaped, and are, in the smaller examples, quite devoid of ornament, with the exception of a necking and one or two mouldings round the abacus. the bell is generally deeply undercut, which, as in the mouldings, is a strong characteristic of the style. the nail head and dog tooth ornaments sometimes appear in the hollows between the mouldings. in the large examples the bell is covered with foliage, which, springing direct from the necking, curls over most gracefully beneath the abacus. in clustered piers the capitals follow the form of the pier, and they also adopt the same form in the single shaft, with the exception that multiangular shafts have often circular capitals. the base consists of a series of mouldings and frequently stands upon a double or single plinth, which in the earlier examples is square, but in later examples assumes the form of the base, and is either circular or polygonal. at stone church, kent, is a good example of an early english capital, decorated with stiff-leaved foliage, and the dog tooth ornament, which in this case is seen between the mouldings of the arch, and is of a perforated character. [side note: early english buttresses.] the buttresses (_see page 17_) of this period are, as a rule, simple in form, and in small churches consist of two or more stages, each set-off or division being sloped at the top to carry off the rain. in larger buildings the buttress generally finishes with a triangular head or gable, and is frequently carried above the parapet, except where stone vaulting is used, in which case it is covered with a pinnacle either plain or ornamented. the edges are often chamfered or the angles ornamented with slender shafts. a niche to contain a statue is occasionally sunk in the face of the buttress, but this feature is more common in the next or decorated period, although the change from one period to another was so gradual that the exact date of a niched buttress would be difficult to determine were there no other features to guide us. [illustration: salisbury cathedral. begun in 1220. the spire was added, 1350. _drawn by sidney heath._] flying buttresses were first introduced at this period, and are common in all large buildings with vaulted roofs. they are generally of simple design, with a plain capping and archivolt, and they spring from the wall buttress to the clerestory (_see page 17_). [illustration: examples of early english capitals and ornament.] chapter v. the decorated style. the best examples of gothic architecture may be said to have been erected between the years 1180 and 1300, and from the latter year many writers date the commencement of its decline. in england we owe nearly the whole of such magnificent buildings as the cathedrals of lincoln, salisbury, worcester, and the abbey of westminster to the 13th century, and there is scarcely a cathedral or abbey that does not owe some beautiful portion of its structure to the builders of the same period, the transepts and lady chapel of hereford cathedral, the eastern transepts of durham, the nave and transepts of wells, the transepts of york, the choir presbytery, central and eastern transepts of rochester, the eastern portion of the choir of ely, the west front of peterborough, the choir of southwell, the nave and transepts of lichfield, and the choir of s. david's being a few of our most characteristic examples of this period. the style which followed the early english is known as the geometric or early decorated style, and it embraces roughly the end of the 13th century and the first twenty or thirty years of the 14th century, and continued in its later or curvilinear form to near the end of that century. perhaps the most perfect example of the geometric style in the world is the cathedral church at amiens, which is usually called the _mother church_ of this style, and although she has many daughters, none of them can be said to equal their parent in beauty. in england the most perfect examples are not to be looked for in cathedrals and large churches, but in their chapels, and the most superb specimen we possessed, s. stephen's chapel, westminster, has been destroyed within comparatively recent years. those left to us include the chapel of the palace of the bishops of ely, in ely place, holborn, now the roman catholic church of s. etheldreda, a building almost identical in plan with the vanished chapel of s. stephen. trinity church, ely, once our lady's chapel, and prior crawden's chapel, in the same city, are lovely examples of the latest development of the curvilinear style, while the former is considered the most highly-wrought building in england. belonging to this period, also, is the choir of merton college chapel, oxford, and luton church. the decorated style may be divided as regards its windows into two classes--geometric and curvilinear. the first has tracery evolved entirely from the circle. the curvilinear style is distinguished by traceries formed by curved and flowing lines. _see pages 15 and 59._ [side note: decorated windows.] decorated windows are usually large and contain from two to seven lights, although one sometimes finds a window with a single light, but of less elongated form than those of the early english period. as we have seen in a previous chapter, tracery originated from the necessity of piercing that portion of the wall which was left vacant when two lights were gathered under a single arched dripstone, and therefore elementary tracery consisted merely of apertures in a flat surface. as the possibilities of this ornamental feature became better understood, the mullions were recessed from the face of the wall and the fine effect thus produced was, as the art progressed, much enhanced by the introduction of various orders of mullions, and by recessing certain portions of the tracery from the face of the mullions and their corresponding bars. the geometrical tracery, as we have seen, consists of various combinations of the circle, as the trefoil, based on the triangle, the quatrefoil on the square, the cinquefoil on the pentagon, etc. [illustration: a late decorated window in a parish church. east sutton, kent. _photograph gardner waterman._] in curvilinear windows the tracery, although based on the same forms and figures, is yet so blended into an intricate pattern that each figure does not stand out with the same individuality as in the geometric. among our most beautiful geometric windows are those of the lady chapel at exeter, ely chapel, and merton chapel, oxford, and of the curvilinear our best example is probably the east window of carlisle cathedral. it must be noted that beautiful as are curvilinear windows, yet they mark a certain decadence in gothic architecture, in that it is an irrational treatment of stone, and conveys the idea that the material was bent and not cut into the required shape, it being a well-established canon in art that when strength is sacrificed to mere elegance it marks a decline in that art. [side note: decorated capitals and piers.] decorated capitals as a rule follow the contour of the pier in clustered columns, and are either bell-shaped or octagonal. they are frequently only moulded, thus presenting rounds, ogees and hollows, on which the prevailing ornaments of the period, the ball and the square flower, are set. the foliated sculpture is most exquisite, and is gracefully wreathed around the bell, instead of rising from the astrigal or upper member of the capital, as in the earlier style. [illustration: examples of decorated ornament. finial capital finial (wimborne minster). (york minster). (york minster). square flower. ball flower. crocket cornice crockets (hereford cathedral). (grantham). (york minster). _drawn by e. m. heath._] almost every variety of leaf and flower is represented, the oak, the vine and the rose being perhaps the most common, but the leaves of the maple, hazel, ivy and strawberry are all so beautifully rendered as to evidence their having been directly studied from nature. plucked flowers too, are not uncommon, and sometimes the little stalks and foliage are accompanied by birds, lizards, squirrels and other creatures. the columns of this period are much more elaborate than those of the early english style, and in plan have curved profiles with moulded members between the shafts. these mouldings are very varied, but the hollows not being so deeply undercut, the general effect is broader and less liney than in the early english; while the decorated arches are less sharply pointed than in the previous style. [side note: decorated doorways.] the doorways of this style possess much the same features as the last, but the mouldings, jamb shafts, etc., are more slender, and generally of finer proportions, the hollows being often filled with the ball flower and square flower instead of the dog tooth. sometimes the doorways have no pillars, being entirely composed of mouldings which are continuous with those in the architrave. the large single doorways of this period are nearly as large as the double ones of early english date, and on the sides small buttresses or niches are sometimes placed, and often one finds a series of niches carried up like a hollow moulding, and filled with figures. the figures of this period are not so good as in the previous style, the heads seem too large for the bodies, and in the female figures the breasts are represented as quite flat. where there are no figures double foliated tracery is often found hanging from one of the outer mouldings, giving an effect of great richness. [side note: decorated buttresses.] the buttresses (_see page 17_) in the decorated style are nearly always worked in stages, and a niche frequently figures on the face of the buttress. crocketed canopies and other carved decorations are common, and in large buildings they usually terminate in pinnacles, which are sometimes of open work. a gothic building attains its effect by the combination of numerous parts, each possessing an individual character of its own. in its loftiness, graceful outlines, and rich effect of light and shade, it speaks of noble aspirations, of freedom, of intellectual thought, of talent and skill, all generously given for a high purpose, the foundation of which was a strong religious enthusiasm, combined with an intense love of the work itself. [side note: characteristics of gothic architecture.] having now arrived at the point where gothic architecture reached its climax, we may briefly sum up its leading characteristics. it is essentially pointed or vertical; its details are mostly geometrical in its window traceries, clusters of shafts and bases, but this geometric quality is only one of construction and form and not of its inner spirit and motive, for plants copied directly from nature were used in beautiful profusion. if we compare a large gothic church with a comparatively small one, we shall find the columns, windows, ornaments of the former are not so very much larger than those of the latter, but that there are double or three times the number of them. this is not the case in a classical building, where each feature has to be enlarged in proportion to the size of the building. it is the constant sub-division of a gothic church which adds so to its apparent size. ornamentally, the gothic is the geometrical and pointed elements repeated to their utmost and afterwards combined with the elaboration of natural objects, plants, flowers, etc., growing in the neighbourhood of the work. this is a great feature, but the most striking point in all good gothic work is the wonderful elaboration of geometric tracery, vesicas, trefoils, quatrefoils and an immense variety of other ornament. in regard to the sizes of our great churches it may be of interest to note that our longest english cathedral is winchester. york and lincoln, although not so long as winchester, are in superficial area very much larger. the largest english church of a non-cathedral rank is westminster abbey, which has, moreover, the distinction of being the loftiest internally; the nave being 104 ft. in height. the largest parish church is that of s. nicholas, great yarmouth, which exceeds in superficial area no fewer than eight of our cathedrals. [illustration: examples of perpendicular ornament. panel. crocket. tudor rose. portcullis. fleur de lys.] chapter vi. the perpendicular style. towards the close of the xivth century a great change came over english gothic architecture, a change which was to a certain extent a return to classical ideas. the curvilinear tracery gave place to a rigid vertical and horizontal form, with the result that windows and panels instead of being filled with curved bars of stone, were sub-divided by straight perpendicular bars and transoms or cross-bars. this style of architecture is popularly known as perpendicular, but as the horizontal lines are quite as distinct a feature as are the vertical, it would perhaps be more correct to speak of it as rectilinear. this change in architectural form made its appearance towards the close of the xivth century, although it was by no means generally introduced at that period, for the old methods and styles were carried on side by side with the new for many years. for example, the eastern end of the choir of york minster (1361-99) possesses a window the traceries of which contain both curvilinear and rectilinear lines, while shottesbrook church in berkshire (1387), and wimmington church, bedfordshire (1391) are examples of village churches neither of which has any feature of the perpendicular style. [illustration: yeovil parish church (a.d. 1376). early perpendicular in style, without a clerestory, and called, for its large window area, the "lantern of the west."] in its earlier stages the perpendicular style presented an effect at once good and bold; the mouldings, though not equal to the best of the decorated style, were well defined, the enrichments effective, and the details delicate without extravagant minuteness. subsequently the style underwent a gradual debasement; the arches became depressed; the mouldings impoverished, the details crowded and coarsely executed, and the whole style became wanting in the chaste and elegant effects for which the decorated stands unapproached and unapproachable. the flowing contours and curved lines of the previous style now gave place in the windows to mullions running straight up from the bottom to the top, and crossed by transoms. as the arch became more and more depressed the mouldings became shallower and less effective. in early buildings of this period the drop arch is very prevalent, but as the period advanced a form known as the tudor arch began to be used. it is an arch in which, as a rule, the centres of the upper portion lie immediately below those of the lower, but this is not always the case. sometimes the whole of the upper portion uniting the arcs of the ends is struck from one centre, in which case the arch becomes a three-centred one, being, in fact, half an ellipse. towards the close of the style the curvature of the upper portion is so slight that it can hardly be distinguished from a straight line, and as the debasement progressed it became really straight. ogee arches are also found at this period, and foiled arches are very frequent. when the tudor arch was not used, we generally find the low drop arch, these three last being mostly used for small openings. [illustration: a fine parish church showing rich perpendicular work. terrington st. clement, norfolk. _photograph dexter & son._] the peculiar characteristics of the windows--the perpendicular mullions and horizontal transoms--we have already alluded to. [side note: perpendicular windows.] the window heads, instead of being filled with flowing tracery, have slender mullions running from the heads of the lights between each mullion, and these again have smaller transoms, until the whole surface of the window becomes divided into a series of panels, the heads of which being arched, are trefoiled or cinquefoiled. in the later windows the transoms at the top are often furnished with a small ornamental battlement, causing the mullions to present a concave outline. [illustration: a perpendicular doorway. merton college chapel. _drawn by e. m. heath._] the plans of churches in this style differ from all others in that they are more spacious, the columns more slender and wider apart, the windows much larger, and the walls loftier and thinner. panelling is used most abundantly on walls, both internally and externally, and also on vaulting, while some buildings, as henry the seventh's chapel at westminster, are almost entirely covered with it. fan tracery vaulting, a feature peculiar to this style, is almost invariably covered with panelling. the mouldings of this period are essentially different from those which preceded them. as a general rule they are cut on a slanting or chamfer plane, the groups of mouldings being separated by a shallow oval-shaped hollow, entirely different from those of the decorated period. [side note: perpendicular doorways.] the doorways of the early portion of this period had two-centred arches, but the characteristic form is the four-centred, enclosed in a square head, formed by the outer mouldings with a hood mould of the same shape, the spandrels being filled with quatrefoils, roses, shields, etc. [side note: perpendicular capitals.] perpendicular capitals are either circular or octagonal, but the necking is usually of the former shape, and the upper members of the abacus of the latter form. the bell portion is mostly plain, but is often enriched with foliage of a very conventional character, shallow and formal, without either the freedom or the boldness of the early english, or the exquisite grace of the decorated periods. a distinguishing feature in the ornamentation of this period is that called panel-tracery, with which the walls and vaulted ceilings are covered. the patterns are found in a variety of forms, as circles, squares, quatrefoils, etc. [side note: fan vaulting.] the rich vaulting called fan vaulting previously alluded to, is composed of pendant curved semi-cones, covered with foliated panel-work, which bears some resemblance to a fan spread open. [side note: perpendicular ornament.] another very characteristic ornament is the tudor flower. it is formed by a series of flat leaves placed upright against the stalk. it was much used in late buildings as a crest or ornamental finishing to cornices, etc., to which it gave an embattled appearance. cornices and brackets were frequently ornamented with busts of winged angels called angel-brackets, and angel-corbels. the portcullis and the tudor rose--both badges of the house of tudor--also figure prominently among the ornaments of the period. the crockets for the most part partake of the squareness which pervades all the foliage of this style. _see page 64._ [side note: perpendicular buttresses.] the buttresses are very similar to those preceding them in their plainer forms, but, in richer examples the faces are covered with panel work and are finished with square pinnacles sometimes set diagonally and terminated with a crocketed spire, or finished with an animal or other ornament. parapets with square battlements are very common at this period, but they too are frequently panelled or pierced with tracery, or with trefoils or quatrefoils inserted in square, circular or triangular compartments. [side note: perpendicular roofs.] the roofs of this period, both in ecclesiastical and secular buildings, are very magnificent, and have the whole of the framing exposed to view; many of them are of high pitch, the spaces between the timbers being filled with tracery, and the beams arched, moulded and ornamented in various ways; and frequently pendants, figures of angels, and other carvings are introduced. the flatter roofs are sometimes lined with boards and divided into panels by ribs, or have the timbers open, and all enriched with mouldings and carvings, as at cirencester church, gloucestershire. the gradual decline of the gothic style is very evident in late perpendicular churches, especially in those erected at the beginning of the xvith century. the elements of gothic architecture became much degraded and led to that mixture of features called the debased gothic in which every real principle of art and of beauty was lost. [illustration: a perpendicular porch. s. nicholas, king's lynn. _photograph dexter & son._] the chief characteristics, then, of the perpendicular style are the vertical mullions, and the general flattening of arches, mouldings and carvings. should there be no other guide, a perpendicular church carries its style and period stamped upon its carvings. the plants represented are, almost without exception, the vine with or without grapes, and the oak with or without acorns. the leaves are generally full blown and crumpled. the earliest building showing the perpendicular style is the beautiful little priory church of edington, in wilts, erected by william edington, bishop of winchester. the same style, but more fully developed, is seen in the nave of winchester cathedral, at new college, oxford, and at winchester college. it is generally admitted that the perpendicular style was, to a certain extent, a return to classical ideas, for gothic architecture in its aspiring grace and feeling for motion was becoming a little unsteady in construction, and although the movement was started by bishop edington, it was left to william of wykeham to save our english gothic architecture from developing into the flamboyant[1] style so characteristic of the late gothic buildings of france and germany. it is little less than astounding that william of wykeham, at once prime minister, diplomatist, scholar and energetic churchman, should have found time to introduce such far-reaching reforms into the art of building, and whatever his fame may be in other directions he will always be remembered by posterity as one of the most remarkable geniuses of the middle ages, a man of giant mind and immense physical energy, who carried into all his work a large and dignified character, stamping it with the unmistakable personality of a master mind. [side note: perpendicular towers.] as builders and designers of church towers the masons of the perpendicular era have never been approached, and all our finest english towers are of this style and period. [illustration: a fine perpendicular tower. st. mary, taunton. _photograph h. montague cooper._] considerations of space will only allow a few of these towers to be mentioned, but among the finest are those at boston, lincolnshire; wrexham, denbighshire; wymondham, heigham and s. clement's in norfolk; southwold church in suffolk; manchester cathedral, s. nicholas' church, newcastle, and s. mary's church, taunton. of perpendicular date and style, also, are the great lantern towers of worcester, bristol, gloucester, york and durham cathedrals, in addition to the fine bell-tower of evesham abbey. [side note: perpendicular spires.] the spire, although less commonly used than formerly, was by no means abandoned, and beautiful examples of perpendicular spires are those at s. michael's, coventry, and rotherham church, yorkshire. although nearly all our cathedrals have some portion of their fabric in the perpendicular style, chantries, chapels, cloisters, vaulting, screens, etc., it was in our parochial churches that perpendicular architecture reached its highest and finest development. just as the xiiith century was the great age for cathedral building, so the latter end of the xivth and earlier half of the xvth centuries was the period to which we owe some of the most beautiful of our parish churches, as s. michael's, coventry (fin. 1395); s. nicholas, lynn (fin. 1400); manchester cathedral (formerly a collegiate church), (1422); fotheringay church, northants (fin. 1435); southwold church, suffolk (1440), and s. mary redcliffe, bristol (about 1442). a little later came, among others, wakefield church, yorkshire (1470), s. stephen's, bristol (1470), s. mary's, oxford, and its namesake at cambridge (both in 1478) and long melford church, suffolk (1481). apart from the actual buildings the perpendicular architects, masons and sculptors have left us some beautiful work in the form of timber roofs, screens, stalls and seats. among the more notable roofs of this period are those at s. peter's, s. andrew's and s. mary's, norwich, the one at morton church in somerset, those at saffron walden and thaxted, essex, and a particularly fine one at s. david's cathedral in wales. among the remarkable domestic roofs in this style are those at westminster hall and eltham palace. chapter vii. the renaissance and later. so far we have been considering gothic churches, but we now come to the time when, from a variety of causes, the italian architects, among them palladio and vitruvius, began to revive classical architecture, a movement which gradually spread over other parts of europe. [side note: the classic revival.] the various causes which led to this apparently retrograde movement are still involved in considerable obscurity. the commercial prosperity of the age produced a class who travelled abroad and cultivated the fine arts, with the result that they desired to see erected in england buildings such as they had seen in rome, florence, genoa and padua. it is generally admitted that the ramifications of gothic architecture had reached their utmost limit, and the style was getting out of hand, as is seen by the flamboyant buildings on the continent. the revival of classical literature in western europe gave an impetus to the movement which was largely intended to enfold art within the shelter of an enlightened taste, and protect it from the licence of unordered enthusiasm. how far it succeeded is not a question that can be discussed at length here, but, however good their intentions may have been, the architects used little discrimination in the selection of buildings which were to serve as models for christian churches, and although subsequently considerable improvements were made, yet, most of the defects in the pagan buildings of the ancients were retained in such as were intended to be utilized for christian worship, and even considered purely as exercises in architecture it was not until the more chaste remains of antiquity began to be studied that the spirit and harmony of the good examples were attained. a greater contrast than the methods employed by the gothic mason and the renaissance architect could not well be imagined. the former shaped his material with his own hands; the foster mother of his art was tradition and its cradle the craftsman's bench; whereas the latter, with no builder's training, worked out his flawless and precise plans in the exotic atmosphere of the office and the study. the practice of making working drawings for every detail of the building was the cause of the decline of ornamental sculpture, with the result that all life and growth in the building ceased. some authorities are very severe on the renaissance movement. dr. fergusson, in his "_modern styles of architecture_," says: "during the gothic era the art of building was evolved by the simple exercise of man's reason, with the result that the work of this period is the instinctive natural growth of man's mind. the buildings, on the other hand, which were designed in the imitative styles, and produced on a totally different principle, present us with an entirely different result, and one which frequently degrades architecture from its high position of a quasi-natural production to that of a mere imitative art." [side note: inigo jones and wren.] be this as it may, the severe classical style introduced into england by inigo jones (who studied in italy under palladio), and continued by sir christopher wren, soon swept everything before it. our most remarkable church in this style is s. paul's cathedral, which in style has two very adverse circumstances to struggle against. in the first place, it bears so great a similarity to the great church of s. peter, at rome, that one cannot help comparing it with that fine example, and secondly, it is the only english cathedral which is not in the gothic style. it must, of course, be acknowledged that s. paul's falls far short of s. peter's, especially in its lighting, but it does not deserve the condemnation of a great german critic, who said, "it is a building marked neither by elegance of form nor vigour of style." although the interior of its dome and clerestory of the nave and choir are extremely gloomy when compared with those of s. peter's, the church is generally acknowledged to be far superior to the latter in its architectural details, and few, if any, italian churches can be said to surpass it, either in general composition or external effect, although it must be admitted that everything having been sacrificed to attain the latter quality, s. paul's taken as a whole, is neither worthy of its fine situation nor of its great architect. other churches which are excellent examples of this style are s. stephen's, walbrook, and s. mary abchurch, london. both show remarkable skill. the former is divided into a nave and four aisles, transepts, and a shallow chancel, by four rows of corinthian columns, with a small dome over the intersection. the interior is very beautiful, and this church is generally considered to be wren's masterpiece. s. mary abchurch, is nearly square in plan, has no columns and is covered with a domical ceiling, but so skilfully treated that the effect is singularly pleasing. [side note: hawkesmore.] of the elizabethan and jacobean buildings it is necessary to say little, as at best they are but clumsy imitations of the flemish, french and italian renaissance, while the style which we now call queen anne came in towards the close of the xviith century, and belongs of right to the reign of charles ii. hawkesmore, a pupil and follower of wren, was a strong architect who has left us christ church, spitalfields, and s. mary woolnoth. he also designed the western towers of westminster abbey, often wrongly ascribed to wren, and the second quadrangle of all souls' college, oxford. this architect, like the majority of his contemporaries, misunderstood and despised the gothic style, with which he had little real sympathy; he drew out designs, which still exist, for converting westminster abbey into an italian church, just as inigo jones had done with the exterior of the nave of old s. paul's, but we cannot be too thankful that this abominable suggestion was never carried out. [illustration: an english renaissance church. s. stephen's, walbrook, london. generally considered to be sir christopher wren's masterpiece. _from an engraving dated 1806._] with king george iii. on the throne our ancestors contented themselves with dull, but substantial, buildings of which some hard things have been written, but they were at least respectable and free from sham, while the churches, although not elegant, were well-built and occasionally picturesque, as we see by the perfect little building of this date at billesley, warwickshire. the eighteenth century pseudo-classical abominations and sham gothic, so favoured by horace walpole and his admirers, can be briefly dismissed. a more rampant piece of absurdity than that of erecting imitations of portions of greek temples and adapting them for christian worship it is difficult to imagine, and in the pavilion at brighton, marylebone church, and the "extinguisher" church in langham place we even surpassed in bad taste and vulgarity all the absurdities of the continental architecture produced by the french revolution. [side note: barry and pugin.] two men now came on the scene who, united, were destined to bring some kind of order out of this chaos. barry and pugin were both scholars and architects, for while the former rather favoured the classical style he thoroughly understood the gothic, while pugin was a thorough mediævalist, a true artist, and a bold exponent in his "_contrasts_" of a complete return to mediæval architecture as the only possible cure for the evils which had crept into the art of building. barry's idea, which was perhaps the more practical, was to correct by careful study the errors into which the later exponents of both classic and gothic architecture had fallen, and endeavour by well thought out modifications to evolve a style more suitable to modern requirements. pugin, however, would have none of the evil thing, and although he supplied his friend with designs for the details and woodwork of the houses of parliament which barry was rebuilding, they did not collaborate in any further way, and both died before the houses of parliament were completed, in which, as a matter of fact, barry's designs were completely ignored. the reform club is considered to be the best of barry's classical buildings. pugin's earlier works were mostly roman catholic churches, and they are acknowledged to be an immense advance on any gothic work which had been seen for centuries. in the roman catholic cathedral of s. chad, at birmingham, there is a dignity, loftiness and simplicity surpassed by few gothic buildings when that style was at its zenith, and from the time pugin designed this building, architecture--notwithstanding our exhaustive study of archæology, our immense resources of capital and labour, our science and labour-saving appliances, and the comparative accessibility of the finest materials--has neither developed nor advanced. the most erudite gothic mason could have possessed but little art knowledge as compared with the modern architect, and yet with our learned societies, wonderful libraries, easily obtained photographs and plans of the best buildings in the world; with writers far superior in intellectual acquirements to those of the middle ages, our vast wealth, with our tools such as the mediæval craftsman could never have dreamed of, and with the experience of twenty centuries to guide us we have made no advance during more than half a century. our best architects acknowledge that until we get a new method of building, originality in architecture is an impossibility, mainly because all the existing styles of architecture have been worked out to their legitimate conclusion, and have been perfected under circumstances and conditions with which we have entirely broken; the originality in detail which pervades and permeates our gothic buildings and gives them the greater part of their charm, must, of necessity, be out of our reach until we blend the spirit of what we are pleased to call our practical age, with a certain amount of that spirit of poetry and romance, religious fervour and devoutness, which animated the builders and craftsmen of the past. [illustration: a typical cornish font. probably of the late norman period. now at maker, near plymouth.] chapter viii. church furniture and ornaments. the most important part of the internal furniture of a church is the altar, a name derived from the latin _altare_, a high place. the altar is a raised structure on which propitiatory offerings are placed. in the christian church the altar is a table or slab on which the instruments of the eucharist are displayed. [side note: the altar.] the early christian altars were portable structures of wood, and the church of rome still allows the use of an altar of this description, although a consecrated stone, containing an authentic relic and regarded as the true altar, must be placed upon the wooden table. the slab forming the altar was sometimes supported on pillars, but more frequently on solid masonry, and previous to the reformation it was marked with five crosses cut into the top, in allusion to the five wounds of christ. from the period that stone altars were introduced it was usual to enclose within them the relics of saints, so that in some cases they were the actual tombs of saints. in england the altars were generally taken down about the year 1550, set up again in the beginning of the reign of queen mary, and again removed in the second year of queen elizabeth. in the church of porlock, somerset, the original high altar has been preserved, though not in use, being placed against the north wall of the chancel. in dunster church, in the same county, there is a solid stone altar, said to have been the original high altar, and in the ruined church of s. mary magdalene at ripon, the high altar has escaped destruction. of chantry altars we have several left, including those at abbey dore, herefordshire; grosmont, monmouthshire; chipping norton, oxon.; warmington, warwick; s. giles's, oxford; lincoln cathedral, and many others; and it is rare to find a gothic church without some traces of altars in their various chapels, oratories or chantries. the altar is, of course, an adoption by the christian church of a pagan aid to worship, and at s. mary's church, wareham, which is thought to stand on the site of a roman temple, are some pieces of stone considered by antiquaries to be portions of a pagan altar, on which burnt offerings were placed. above many christian altars was placed a piece of sculpture or a painting representing some religious subject. these altar pieces sometimes consist of two pictures, when they are called "diptyches," and sometimes of three pictures, when they are called "triptyches," and both forms usually fold up or are provided with shutters. they are often rare examples of the flemish and other schools of painting, and of great value. at the reformation the stone altar was displaced by the communion table, which at first occupied the position vacated by the altar. this gave umbrage to the puritan mind, and the communion table was then usually placed in the centre of the chancel, with seats all round for the communicants; which arrangement is still in vogue in some of our english churches and in jersey, although at the restoration the communion table was, as a general rule, replaced at the eastern wall of the chancel. [illustration: _durham sanctuary knocker._] long before the christian era the altar was regarded as a place of refuge for those fleeing from justice or oppression, and this custom or privilege of sanctuary was sanctioned by the english bishops and was retained for many centuries by the christian church. many of our parish churches claim to possess old sanctuary rings or knockers, but it is doubtful if any of these were ever used by fugitives, for the reason that although in early days every parish church had the right to grant sanctuary, few possessed the means of feeding and housing a refugee, save in the church itself, which was expressly forbidden. this is why we find records of fugitives travelling many miles at the risk of their lives and passing hundreds of parish churches in their endeavour to reach bury st. edmunds, hexham, durham or some other of the well-recognised sanctuaries. the only sanctuary knocker remaining to-day, which is above suspicion, is that at durham cathedral. it is made of bronze and represents the grotesque head of a dragon, the ring coming from the mouth. [illustration: the baptistery in luton church. _photograph fredk. thurston, f.r.p.s._] above the door is a small room in which attendants watched by day and night, and when a fugitive was admitted a bell was rung to announce that someone had taken sanctuary. [side note: the font.] the font, as we have seen, was originally placed in a separate building called the baptistery. the only known example of anything of the kind in england is that in s. mary's church, luton, fully described in the homeland handbook, no. 47. it is in the decorated style, dates from the time of edward iii., and is said to have been designed by william of wykeham for queen philippa. it is composed of white stone with open panels, pierced by cinquefoils and quatrefoils, while the apex of each panel terminates in a foliated finial. the font inside is octagonal in form and of 13th century date, but it has been somewhat restored. ancient fonts were always large enough to allow for total immersion, and our present custom of baptism by affusion, or sprinkling, is only permitted, not enjoined by the rubric. in early days the sacrament of baptism was only administered by the bishops at the great festivals of pentecost and easter, for the reason that this afforded the greater convenience for immediate confirmation, but with the increase in the number of churches the rite was administered by the priests in every village. the font was required by the canon to be of stone, but there are a few norman fonts made of lead, among them those at s. mary's church, wareham, walton-on-the-hill, surrey, and at edburton, parham, and pyecombe, sussex. a remarkable font is that at dolton church, devon, made up of fragments of the churchyard cross, and there is also a somewhat similar one at melbury bubb, dorset. by a constitution of edmund, archbishop of canterbury (1236), fonts were required to be covered and locked, and at first these covers were little more than plain lids, but they afterwards became highly ornamental and were enriched with buttresses, pinnacles, crockets, etc. it is doubtful if any fonts exist which can reasonably be supposed to be saxon, although a few, like that at little billing, northants, may possibly be of that era. of norman fonts we have large numbers. they are sometimes plain hollow cylinders; others are massive squares with a large pillar in the centre, and small shafts at the corners. these fonts are generally ornamented with rudely executed carvings, consisting of foliage and grotesque animals. [illustration: an example of a leaden font of the late norman period. walton-on-the-hill, surrey.] the one in winchester cathedral is a good example, and there are three other very similar ones in hampshire. early english fonts are very often circular, and sometimes square, and they are often supported in much the same way as the norman ones. in the decorated and perpendicular styles they are, with few exceptions, octagonal, and the details generally partake of the character of those used in the other architectural features of the period. there are hexagonal fonts of decorated date at rolvenden, kent, and heckington, lincs. the font is usually placed close to a pillar near the entrance, generally that nearest but one to the tower in the south arcade, or, in larger buildings, in the middle of the nave. [side note: stoups.] the holy-water stoups sometimes found in our old churches are generally small niches with stone basins formed in the wall either in or just outside the porch, or within the church close to the door, or in one of the pillars nearest to the door. these niches resemble piscinas, except that they differ in situation, are smaller and plainer, and rarely have a drain. a good example of an outside stoup is that at broadmayne, dorset, where there is also one inside the church. they are rarely found unmutilated, but there is one in perfect condition in the north porch of thornham church, kent; and a rather elaborate example at pylle church, near glastonbury. [illustration: a reputed saxon font. shaldon, devon.] the piscina is a water-drain formerly placed near the altar and consisting of a shallow stone basin, or sink, with a drain to carry off whatever is poured into it. [side note: piscinas.] it was used to receive the water in which the priest washed his hands, as well as for that with which the chalice was rinsed at the celebration of the mass. it was usually placed within a niche, although the basin often projects from the face of the wall, and is sometimes supported on a shaft rising from the floor. in the early english and decorated periods there are often two basins and two drains, and occasionally three. within the niche a wooden or stone shelf is often found, called a credence-table, on which the sacred vessels were placed previous to their being required at the altar. [illustration: a detached holy-water stoup of unusual design. wooton courtenay, som.] piscinas are unknown in england of earlier date than the middle of the 12th century, and of that date they are extremely rare. of thirteenth and succeeding centuries we have many examples, more or less mutilated. their forms and decorations are very various, but the character of their architectural features will always decide their approximate date. [side note: sedilia.] the sedilia, from the latin _sedile_, a seat, has come to be applied in modern times to the seats used by the celebrants during the pauses in the mass. they were sometimes moveable, but more usually in this country were formed of masonry and recessed in the wall. they are generally three in number, for the priest, deacon and sub-deacon, while in a few rare instances they number four seats, as at rothwell church, northants, and furness abbey; or even five, as at southwell minster. sometimes a long single seat under one arch is found, and when three seats are used the two western ones are often on the same level and the eastern one raised above them. numerous examples remain in our churches, some being as early as the latter part of the 12th century, but they are mostly later and extend to the end of the perpendicular style. some of them are separated by shafts, and profusely ornamented with panelling, niches, statues, pinnacles, tabernacle work, and crowned with canopies all more or less elaborately enriched. [side note: stalls.] stalls are fixed seats in the choir, either wholly or partially enclosed and used by the clergy. previous to the reformation all large and many small churches had a range of wooden stalls on each side and at the west end of the choir. in cathedrals they were enclosed at the back with panelling, and surmounted by overhanging canopies of tabernacle work, generally of oak, of which those at winchester, henry vii.'s chapel at westminster, and manchester cathedral are possibly our finest examples. when the stalls occupied both sides of the choir, return seats were placed at the ends for the prior, dean, precentor, and other of the officiating clergy. [illustration: sedilia and chantry. luton, beds. _photograph fredk. thurston, f.r.p.s._] mr. parker, in his "_glossary of architecture_," gives the following definition of the miserere, patience or pretella. "the projecting bracket on the underside of the seats of stalls in churches; these, when perfect, are fixed with hinges so they may be turned up, and when this is done the projection of the miserere is sufficient, without actually forming a seat, to afford very considerable rest to anyone leaning upon it. they were allowed as a relief to the infirm during the long services that were required to be performed by ecclesiastics in a standing posture." it is in the carving of these that one is frequently struck by the curious mixture of the sacred and the profane, the refined and the vulgar, for which it is difficult to find any adequate explanation. of so coarse a nature are some of these carvings that it has been necessary to entirely remove them from the stalls. they are usually attributed to the mendicant and wandering monks, and they undoubtedly reflect the licentiousness which at one time pervaded the monastic and conventual establishments. among our best examples are those at christchurch priory, hants, and in henry vii.'s chapel. there is a remarkably complete set in exeter cathedral. [illustration: a typical somerset bench-end. showing a fuller at work with the implements of his trade. spaxton. _photograph mr. page._] of modern pews it is not necessary to say anything here, but previous to the reformation the nave of a church was usually fitted with fixed seats, parted from each other by wainscoting, and partially enclosed at the ends by framed panelling, but more often by solid pieces of wood, either panelled or carved on the front. these bench-ends are very common in the west of england, in somerset and devon, and they are often very beautiful pieces of work and were in all probability executed by local craftsmen. they embrace a variety of subjects: figures, scrolls, dragons, serpents, etc., and frequently bear the arms of the family who owned the pew. sometimes they terminate at the top with finials either in the form of heads, bunches of foliage, a chamfered _fleur-de-lys_ and a variety of other ornaments called poppy-heads, from the french _poupée_. no examples are known to exist earlier than the decorated style, but of perpendicular date specimens are very numerous, especially in our cathedrals and old abbey churches. [side note: pulpits.] pulpits were formerly placed, not only in churches, but in the refectories and occasionally in the cloisters of monasteries, and there is one in the outer court of magdalen college, oxford, and another at shrewsbury. in former times pulpits were placed in the nave attached to a wall, pillar or screen, usually against the second pier from the chancel arch. some are of wood, others of stone; the former are mostly polygonal, with the panels enriched with foliation or tracery. few exist of earlier date than the perpendicular style, but stone pulpits of decorated date are sometimes met with as at beaulieu, hants, a very early specimen. wooden pulpits are usually hexagonal or octagonal; some stand on slender wooden stems, others on stone bases. a few have canopies or sounding boards, and their dates can be fixed by the character of their ornamentation. at kenton, devon, there is an early pulpit which has retained its original paintings. jacobean pulpits are very numerous, and are frequently gilded and painted; the one at s. saviour's church, dartmouth, being a most elaborate example. [illustration: a richly carved pulpit and canopy. edlesborough, bucks. _photograph h. a. strange._] open-air preaching is anything but a modern invention, for long before the erection of parish churches it was the recognised method of addressing the people. there is a print of some popular bishop preaching in a pulpit at paul's cross in s. paul's churchyard, and in mediæval days open-air pulpits were erected near the roads, on bridges and often on the steps of the market crosses, which are often still known as preaching crosses. [side note: squints.] in some of our churches is to be seen a squint, an opening in an oblique direction through a wall or pier for the purpose of enabling persons in the aisles or transepts to see the elevation of the host at the high altar. they are of frequent occurrence in our churches and are very numerous in the neighbourhood of tenby, south wales, also in devon and the west generally. they are usually without any ornament, but are sometimes arched and enriched with tracery. they are mostly found on one or both sides of the chancel arch, but they sometimes occur in rooms above porches, in side-chapels and the like; in every instance they were so situated that the altar could be seen. when they occur in porches or the rooms above they are thought to have been for the use of the acolyte appointed to ring the sanctus bell, who, viewing the performance of mass, would be thus able to sound the bell at the proper time. the name hagioscope has been used to describe these oblique openings. cruciform marks are sometimes found on our churches, often on a stone in the porch; they are usually incised crosses or five dots in the form of a cross. they were, presumably, cut by the bishop when the building was consecrated, and are called consecration crosses. [side note: screens.] the rood-screens, separating the chancel or choir of a church from the nave, usually supported the great rood or crucifix, not actually on the screen itself, but on a beam called the rood-beam, or by a gallery called the rood-loft, which last was approached from the inside of the church, by a small stone staircase in the wall, as can be seen in many of our churches to-day. although rood-lofts have been generally destroyed in england, some beautiful examples remain at long sutton, barnwell, dunster and minehead, somerset; kemsing, kent; newark, nottingham; uffendon, collumpton, dartmouth, kenton, plymtree and hartland, devon. the general construction of wooden screens is close panelling below, from which rise tall slender balusters, or wooden mullions supporting tracery rich with cornices and crestings, frequently painted and gilded. the lower panels often depict saints and martyrs. from the top of the screen certain parts of the services and the lessons were read. they were occasionally close together and glazed, as we see by a most beautiful example at charlton-on-otmoor, in oxfordshire. these screens, many of which have been over-restored, are very common, and in addition to those above mentioned, are found at s. mary's, stamford, ottery s. mary, chudleigh, bovey, and in nearly all the devon parish churches. at dunstable a screen of queen mary's time separates the vestry from the chancel. [illustration: screen with rood loft. kenton, devon. _photograph by chapman._] of stone screens space will permit of only the briefest mention. they were used in various situations, to enclose tombs and to separate chapels, and occasionally the rood-screen was of stone. [illustration: the carved oak balustrade in compton church. held to be the oldest existing piece of carved woodwork in england.] the oldest piece of screen work in this country is that at compton church, surrey; it is of wood and shows the transition from the norman to the early english styles. stone screens are often massive structures enriched with niches, statues, tabernacles, pinnacles, crestings, etc., as those at canterbury, york and gloucester. [side note: the reredos.] the reredos forms no part of the altar, and is often highly enriched with niches, buttresses, pinnacles, and other ornaments. not infrequently it extends across the whole breadth of the church, and is sometimes carried nearly up to the roof, as at s. alban's abbey, durham and gloucester cathedrals, s. saviour's, southwark and in that remarkably fine example at christchurch, hants. in village churches they are mostly very simple, and generally have no ornaments formed in the wall, though niches and corbels are sometimes provided to carry images, and that part of the wall immediately over the altar is panelled, as at s. michael's, oxford; solihull, warwickshire; euston and hanwell, oxfordshire, etc. it is interesting to note that the open fire-hearth, once used in domestic halls, was also called a "reredos." chapter ix. bells and belfries. the history of bells is lost in antiquity, and little is known about them previous to the xvth century. it is probable, however, that they were used in india and china centuries before they reached europe. bells were used by the romans for many secular purposes, and although their use was sanctioned by the christian church about 400 a.d., they were not in general use in england until 650 a.d. the earliest bells were hand bells, quadrangular in shape, and made of thin plates of copper or iron riveted together, and their abominable sound when struck must have been one of their chief merits, as the early bells were much used for the purpose of frightening the devil and other evil spirits. our oldest bells are hand bells, s. patrick's bell at belfast (1091) and s. ninian's bell at edinburgh, which is probably of even earlier date. from 1550 to 1750 was the golden age of production for bells, more especially so in belgium and the low countries, where the bells of the towers and belfries were rung to arouse the country in times of danger and invasion. it is quite possible that the bells used for secular and religious purposes were kept distinct. bells played a very important part in mediæval life, and next to cannon were regarded as the chief city guardians, for he who held the bells held the town, and the first thing done by the invader on taking a town was to melt the bells and thus destroy the means of communicating an alarm. in england our old towns, being almost entirely constructed of wood, were liable to periodic and devastating conflagrations, which fact suggested to that genius, william the conqueror, the institution of couvre-feu, or in its more popular form, curfew, which rang at eight o'clock in the evening, when all lights were to be extinguished. the ringing of curfew has survived in many of our towns and villages to this day, but it is doubtful if the custom has been continuous from its first institution. the secular use of the bell is, however, only incidental, and it is in its connection with religious life that we are now concerned, for all church history, church doctrine and church custom and observances are set to bell music. bells in fact may be said to sum up the short span of our mortal life, for the birthday, the wedding and the funeral, are all welded to religion by the church bell. bells were used for ecclesiastical purposes in england long before the erection of our parish churches, for bede, speaking of the death of s. hilda, a.d. 680, says that "one of the sisters in the distant monastery of hackness, thought she heard as she slept, the sound of the bell which called them to prayers," and turketul gave to croyland abbey a great bell called guthlac, and afterwards six others which he called bartholomew and betelin, turketul and tatwin, and pega and bega. s. dunstan gave bells to many of the churches in somerset, and he also seems to have introduced bell ringing into the monasteries. a few words may be of interest concerning the number and purposes of these monastic bells, with which the life of the monks must have been completely bound up. the _signum_ woke up the whole community at day-break. the _squilla_ announced the frugal meal in the refectory; but for those working in the gardens, the cloister-bell, or _campanella_, was rung. the abbot's _cordon_, or handbell, summoned the brothers and novices to their superior; whilst the _petasius_ was used to call in those working at a distance from the main building. at bed-time the _tiniolum_ was sounded, and the _noctula_ was rung at intervals throughout the night to call the monks to watch and pray. the _corrigiumcula_ was the scourging bell, while the sweet-toned _nota_, a choir bell, was rung at the consecration of the elements. the use of the bell-tower was recognised in the ancient saxon law, which gave the title of thane to anyone who had a church with a bell-tower on his estate, and two of our most interesting saxon churches, brixworth and brigstock, both in northamptonshire, have each a semi-circular tower rising together with the bell-tower, and forming a staircase to it. one of the most beautiful campaniles or bell-towers still standing is that at evesham, in worcestershire, which is a good specimen of perpendicular architecture. it was built by abbot lichfield, the last abbot but one of the abbey, and took six years in building, and was not quite completed when the famous abbey, of which it was a final ornament, was pulled down. in addition to this example at evesham, detached bell-towers exist, or once existed, at chichester, east dereham, glastonbury abbey, bruton, in somerset, and in several other places. markland, in his _remarks on churches_, says: "the great bell-tower which once formed part of the abbey church of s. edmundsbury was commenced about 1436. from the year 1441 to 1500 legacies were still being given towards the building. in 1461 an individual, probably a benefactor, desired to be buried _in magno ostio novi campanilis_." in protestant use church bells have been stripped of much of the former superstition and symbolism. they are no longer rung to announce the miracle of transubstantiation; neither are they called upon as of old for the purpose of scaring devils, demons, and other evil spirits which formed so prominent a feature in the faith of the early christian communities. [illustration: bell turret for 3 bells. radipole, dorset.] closely connected with the subject of bells and belfries are the bell-gables or bell-turrets, so frequently found at the west ends of our smaller churches which have no towers. they usually contain but one bell, but are sometimes found with two, and at radipole church, near weymouth, the bell-turret was originally designed to carry three bells. they are generally most picturesque little features of which a few may be of norman date, but by far the greater number of them are early english, a style in which they are frequently found. in addition to these bell-turrets at the western ends of our churches one sometimes finds a similar, but smaller, erection at the eastern end of the roof of the nave, but used for a very different purpose, for while the bell at the western end was rung to summon the parishioners to service, that at the eastern end, known as the sanctus or mass-bell, was rung on the elevation of the host during the celebration of mass; although usually placed on the apex of the roof, this bell sometimes occupied a position in the lantern or tower, or in a turret of larger dimensions. in churches where no turret existed it was carried in the hand, and such is now the prevailing practice on the continent. the turret for the sanctus bell still exists at barnstaple, devon, and st. peter port, guernsey. the sanctus bell was generally made of silver, and occasionally a number of little bells were hung in the middle of the church, and by means of a wheel they were all made to ring at once. chapter x. the spire; its origin and development. probably the most beautiful feature of a gothic church is the spire, raising its tapering form far above the town or village and forming a prominent landmark, denoting the location of the house of god. although found occasionally in other styles, the spire is essentially gothic, and one of the most marked characteristics of this period. spires are generally of two kinds, those constructed of timber and covered with slates, lead, tiles or shingles, and those built of stone or brick. examples of both kinds are very numerous on the continent and in england, while shingle spires are especially common in sussex. the spire is generally acknowledged to have originated from the small pyramidal roof so frequently found on saxon and norman towers. this gradually became elongated, and the towers were sometimes gabled on each side, as is the case with the remarkable saxon church at sompting, sussex. this shows us very clearly the angles of the spire resting upon the apex of each gable, so that the spire itself is set obliquely to the square of the tower. [illustration: the best example of a saxon spire or pyramidal roof. sompting, sussex. _drawn by george pearl._] saxon and norman spires are very rare in england, sompting being our best example of the former and those on the eastern transepts of canterbury cathedral of the latter. of early english spires we have, fortunately, some good examples, among which are those at oxford cathedral, wilford and wansted, in the same county, and a very graceful one at leighton buzzard. these 13th century spires are very common in france, as at chartres and s. pierre, caen. [illustration: leighton buzzard church. with early english tower and spire. _photograph h. a. strange._] of fourteenth century, or decorated, spires, we have many examples, of which perhaps the best is the beautiful spire of salisbury cathedral, although the equally fine one at s. mary's, oxford, runs it close for premier position. the triple group at lichfield cathedral belong to this period, as do the spires of ross, heckington, grantham, s. mary's, newark, king's sutton, bloxham and snettisham, norfolk. a peculiarity of the salisbury spire is that it never formed part of the original design of the cathedral, being added seventy years later. it is the loftiest spire in england--404 feet--about 40 ft. higher than the cross of s. paul's. it speaks well for the gothic builders that such a vast superstructure as this tower and spire could be imposed upon walls and piers never intended to bear it. at an early period it was found to have deflected twenty-three inches from the perpendicular, but there has been no sign of any further movement. barnack church, in northamptonshire, has a curious spire showing the transition from norman to early english. it will be noticed that the sides of a church spire are slightly curved, so that they swell out a little in the centre. this is called the entasis of the spire, and belongs to the study of optics in architecture. where the spire has no entasis the same effect is produced by the introduction of small projecting gables, bands of carving, or a little coronal of pinnacles. one of the most clearly marked differences between english and continental spires is that the latter are much shorter than the towers which support them, the towers, as a rule, being twice as high as the spires. in england, on the contrary, the spire is generally very much loftier than the tower. at shottesbrook, berks, and ledbury, herefordshire, the spires occupy as much as three-fifths of the total elevation, and the usual rule in england is for the tower to be a little less in height than the spire. the masons lavished an extraordinary amount of care and skill on their spires. so much is this the case that there is hardly a mediæval spire in the country which can be called ill-designed or displeasing. church spires are very common in some counties and very rare in others. there are, of course, exceptions, but it is in the flat counties that spires are most frequent, the most beautiful ones being found in northamptonshire, leicestershire, lincolnshire, warwickshire, staffordshire, nottinghamshire and oxfordshire. the top of the spire is usually capped with a weather vane terminating in a cock. the custom of using a cock as the flag of the vane is of very early date, for wolfstan, in his life of s. ethelwold, written towards the end of the 10th century, speaks of one which surmounted winchester cathedral. in the bayeux tapestry one is shown on the gable of westminster abbey, and one of the early popes ordained that every church under the papal jurisdiction should be surmounted by a cock as emblematical of the sovereignty of the church over the whole world. chapter xi. stained glass. the use of coloured glass in the windows of buildings devoted to religious purposes appears to have been employed as early as the ninth century, but no examples remain of anything like so old a date, and we have only illuminated missals and primitive drawings by members of the conventual bodies to guide us in determining the earliest styles of coloured glazing. it appears to have consisted of more or less primitive representations of the human form, with strong black lines to indicate the features and folds of the drapery. the backgrounds were generally masses of deep blue or red, and in the rare instances where landscapes were introduced positive colours only appear to have been used. our oldest specimens in england are those in the choir aisles of canterbury cathedral, which appear to be of the 12th century, and it is thought that they are the remains of the original glazing that was put in when this part of the building was rebuilt after a fire in 1174. the general design is composed of panels of various forms, in which are depicted subjects from holy scripture, with backgrounds of deep blue or red; the spaces between the panels are filled with mosaic patterns in which blue and red colours predominate, and the whole design is framed in an elaborate border of leaves and scroll-work in brilliant colours. [illustration: a parish church with a shingle broach spire. (_see page 99_). edenbridge, kent. _homeland copyright._] of thirteenth century windows we have some magnificent examples --unfortunately few unmutilated--as at york, where is the five-light lancet window situated in the north end of the transept, known as the five sisters of york. of this date, also, are the large circular window of lincoln cathedral, and the windows at chetwode, bucks; westwell, kent; west horsley, surrey; and beckett's crown, canterbury. a little later, in the decorated period, we get the great east window of york cathedral, 75 ft. high and 32 ft. broad; the east window of gloucester cathedral, 72 ft. high and 38 ft. broad; and other fine windows at tewkesbury abbey; merton college, oxford; wroxhall abbey, warwickshire; and the churches of chartham, kent; stanford, leicestershire; ashchurch, glous.; cranley, surrey; norbury, derbyshire, and others. salisbury cathedral has retained portions, but very lovely portions, of the glazing of its west windows, and enough is left to show that it was little inferior to the great windows of york and gloucester. carlisle cathedral, too, has preserved fragments of the original glass in the tracery of the great east window, but the lower part of the glazing is modern. windows in the decorated style continued to be arranged in panels, with the spaces between them filled with flowing patterns of foliage, in which the vine and ivy leaves predominate. single figures are more common than in the previous style, and when used are generally shown beneath a simple pediment or canopy. in the early examples they only occupy a portion of the window light, but later they are found occupying nearly the whole of the surface and are surmounted by large and elaborate canopies. quarries are much used in this style, sometimes quite plain, but more often with leaves or rosettes painted on them in black lines, or painted with the vine and ivy leaves so arranged that they form a repeating pattern over the whole window. at this period, too, heraldry began to be employed in the decoration of the windows to which it is always an appropriate and artistic adjunct, and many authentic and valuable examples of our national heraldry have thus been preserved for posterity. with the advent of the perpendicular style the glazing became more uniform in character, the glass was thinner and lighter, the tints paler, and the whole effect more brilliant and transparent. the paintings for the most part consist of large figures under elaborate canopies, frequently occupying an entire light, and in the patterns and smaller decorations there is a greater freedom of design, and the whole treatment is more harmonious and artistic than in any other period. the use of heraldry became very common, and inscriptions on long narrow scrolls were frequently employed. among the best examples of this period are the windows at s. margaret's church, westminster; king's college chapel, cambridge; fairford church, gloucestershire; and morley church, derbyshire. the reformation, with its vast social and political upheaval, was not conducive to the encouragement of the fine arts, and from this period the art of glazing in england declined beyond measure, and was not the only art that received its death-blow in the triumph of puritanism. the art has, however, revived greatly during recent years, thanks, among other artists, to william morris and burne-jones. a few words must be said about the "jesse" window found in some of our cathedrals and churches. strictly speaking, it is a representation of the genealogy of christ, in which the different persons forming the descent are placed on scrolls of foliage branching out of each other, intended to represent a tree. it was also wrought into a branched candlestick, thence called a jesse, a common piece of furniture in ancient churches. the subject is found on a window at llanrhaiadr y kinmerch, denbighshire, on the stone work of one of the chancel windows at dorchester church, oxfordshire, and in carved stone on the reredos of christchurch priory, hants. it is not perhaps generally known that the actual colours used in early stained glass possessed each of them their own specific symbolism. underlying the obvious story conveyed by the human figures or decorated devices, there was an inner story to be read with profit by those who understood the mystic symbolism concerning colours. without entering at length into this interesting subject, it may yet be stated that green was the symbol of regeneration, red of divine love, white of divine wisdom, yellow of faith, and grey, or a mixture of black and white, the emblem of terrestrial death and spiritual immortality. these colours at different times or in different countries had other meanings as well, and ecclesiologists tell us that the colours chosen for depicting the robes of our lord differ according to the period of his life which it was intended to represent. chapter xii. crypts. the crypts so generally found beneath our cathedrals and abbeys, and so frequently under our churches, rarely extend beyond the choir or chancel and its aisles, and are sometimes of very small dimensions. they are often coeval with the upper parts of the building, and although not so elaborate in ornamentation as the fabric they support, they are almost without exception well constructed and well finished pieces of building. in some cases the crypt is of much older date than any portion of the superstructure, as is the case at york, worcester and rochester cathedrals. during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries the roofs were often richly groined, and upheld by cylindrical columns or clustered piers, and furnished with handsome bases and decorated capitals. there is abundant evidence that crypts were at one time furnished with altars, piscinas, and the various fittings requisite for the celebration of the mass, and they were used as sepulchres, wherein the shrines of relics and martyrs were carefully preserved. some authorities claim a purely saxon origin for the crypts at ripon cathedral, hexham abbey, and repton church, derbyshire. the ripon example is a plain barrel-vaulted chamber, about 11 ft. long and 8 ft. wide, with no pillars or ornament of any kind. it is popularly known as s. wilfrid's needle, but the exact origin of the name is lost in obscurity. the hexham crypt is very similar in character, but is somewhat longer, being more than 13 ft. long and 8 ft. wide. as at ripon, there are hollows or shallow niches in the walls in which lamps may possibly have been placed. the third reputed saxon crypt is that at repton, but it has little in common with the other two, its superficial area being nearly twice as great and the roof is supported on four columns, with plain square capitals rudely carved, and bearing much similarity to early norman work. the position of the crypt varies. at beverley minster it is on the south side of the south-west tower; in hereford cathedral it is under a side chapel, while at lastingham, in yorkshire, the crypt extends under the whole of the church, including the apse. at wells the crypt is beneath the chapter-house, and durham cathedral has three crypts, one under what was the dormitory, another beneath the refectory, and the third under the prior's chapel. of crypts of norman date we have many examples, of which, perhaps, our best are those at gloucester, worcester, canterbury and winchester cathedrals, while canterbury is probably the largest of them all. good crypts are also found at wimborne minster, christchurch priory, and in our smaller churches at repton and s. peter's-in-the-east, oxford. the wimborne crypt is lighted by four windows. the vaulting is supported by two pairs of pillars which form three aisles, each of three bays. mr. perkins, in his book on wimborne minster, says, "on each side of the place where the altar stood there are two openings into the choir aisles. the exteriors of these are of the same form and size as the crypt windows, but they are deeply splayed inside, and probably were used as hagioscopes or squints, to allow those kneeling in the choir aisles to see the priest celebrating mass at the crypt altar." the crypt at christchurch is of norman date, and now serves as a vault for the malmesbury family. the crypt of canterbury cathedral is claimed and justly claimed, perhaps, as the largest and most beautiful in england. it is thought to contain fragments of roman and saxon work, and much of it dates from the days of s. anselm (1096-1100). it was here that the remains of s. thomas à becket lay from 1170 to 1220, and "here that henry ii., fasting and discrowned, with naked feet, bared back, and streaming tears, performed on july 12th, 1174, the memorable penance for his share in the murder of the great archbishop." it was here too, in later times that the walloons were granted, by queen elizabeth, the privilege of carrying on their silk-weaving, and it was also reserved as a place of worship for french protestants. chapter xiii. how to describe an old church. having carefully read the foregoing chapters, it should be possible for anyone interested in the subject to be able to write a fairly accurate description of any old church. the record should, if possible, be amplified with sketches or photographs. in course of time, decay, neglect and restoration will deprive our ancient buildings of every visible stone of original work which they possess, and careful records of this kind, written, photographed and sketched, may be of the highest possible value to future generations of historians and architects, long after the objects themselves have ceased to exist. the work in itself is of absorbing interest, and the more one studies these works of past ages the stronger becomes the conviction that our old buildings, whether cathedral, castle or simple village church, are the landmarks of the nation's history, and a priceless inheritance of beauty and art the conservation of which is the duty of all generations. the principal points to be noted are--1. the name of the church. 2. its situation. 3. its dedication. 4. general plan. 5. the style of architecture to which each portion belongs. 6. any peculiarity of the architecture, blocked up windows, etc. 7. any ancient furniture, screens, bench-ends, glass. 8. any monuments, tablets, or mural paintings. 9. church plate, bells, registers. 10. any local traditions. the record should be made somewhat in the following manner. the church of ---is prettily situated on rising ground some quarter of a mile north of the village, and on the main road to ---. it is approached by a picturesque timber lych-gate, and consists of nave, aisles and chancel, having a side chapel to the north and a single transept to the south. at the west end is a decorated tower and spire. there are two porches, one on the north side and the other on the west, which last has a niche for a figure over the doorway and seats on either side. the nave is perpendicular, as is the greater part of the rest of the fabric. above the nave rises a lofty and noble clerestory, divided from the aisles by five rather obtusely-pointed arches supported by richly moulded piers with small moulded capitals. each bay of the clerestory contains two three-light windows of late perpendicular date. the roof is flat pitched and is of oak, the principals are adorned with panelled tracery and show vestiges of ancient colour decoration. the windows of the aisles are late decorated in style; they are of three lights, the traceries elegant and richly moulded. the east window is perpendicular and is much sub-divided by mullions and transoms; in the upper portions are some heraldic coats of arms, which appear to have formed part of a much earlier window. the chancel is divided from the nave by a fine open oak screen, coeval with the larger part of the building. it is richly carved and gilded, and in the right-hand side of the chancel arch are the steps which formerly led up to the top of it. the chancel, together with its chapel, is vaulted in stone with well marked ribs and carved bosses. the transept, late perpendicular, opens into the south side of the nave by a four-centred arch, and has a rich flat ceiling. in the chancel is a piscina of early english date, together with a sedilia of the same period. on the north side of the chancel, resting on the floor, is a cross-legged effigy, in chain mail, surcoat, etc., and bearing on his left arm a shield, but all much mutilated. there is a local tradition that it represents sir ----, but there is no evidence by which he can be identified. features of the church are the many highly carved bench ends, all in oak, representing a great variety of subjects, such as dragons, serpents, etc., while a few bear the arms of local families who probably bore the cost of the work. the pulpit is jacobean, and has no special feature. the font, which stands in the centre of the nave, is square in form and is supported by a modern round plinth. it is constructed of marble, the four sides being carved in low relief with intersecting patterns. it is possibly of norman date, and is the only existing feature of a much earlier church. the tower and spire are decorated; the latter is of stone with four pinnacles at the base, and has a little coronal of pinnacles. the belfry windows are arranged in pairs on each side of the tower. the tower or western window is of five lights, richly decorated in style. illustration: key to diagram of the interior elevation of a bay of a church. clerestory. 26 boss. 25 vaulting rib. 24 vault. 23 vaulting rib. 22 tracery of c. window. 21 clerestory window. 20 sill of clerestory window. 19 base of jamb, c. arch. 18 jamb of c. arch. 17 clerestory string. blind storey (triforium). 16 capital of vaulting shaft. 15 tracery of triforium. 14 triforium arch. 13 capital of t. pier. 12 pier of triforium. 11 triforium string. ground storey. 10 tracery of aisle window. 9 aisle window. 8 sill of aisle window. 7 wall arcade. 6 vaulting shaft. 5 corbel. 4 pier arch. 3 capital of pier. 2 pier. 1 base of pier. footnotes. 1: so called from its "flame"-like appearance, producing forms which resemble elongated tongues of flame. there is great beauty in much of this work, but it is constructionally weak. the finest example is chartres cathedral. appendix. a glossary of the principal terms used in ecclesiastical architecture. abacus derived from the greek _abax_--a tray or flat board, an essential feature of the grecian and roman orders, but now used to describe the slab forming the upper part of a column, pier, etc. abbey a term for a union of ecclesiastical buildings, for the housing of those conventual bodies presided over by an abbot or abbess, supposed to be derived from the hebrew _ab_, "father." acanthus a plant, the leaves of which are represented in the capitals of the corinthian orders. aisle french _aile_, a wing, the lateral division of a church. almonry a room where alms were distributed. altar an elevated table dedicated to the sacrament of the holy eucharist, and usually called the communion table. almery, aumery, and aumbrey a recess or small cupboard in the wall of a church, used to contain the chalices, patens, etc., for the use of the priest. they are sometimes near the _piscina_, but are usually on the opposite side of the chancel. ante-chapel the outer part of a chapel. apse the semi-circular or polygonal recess at the east end of the choir or aisles of a church. arcade a series of arches, open or closed with masonry, and supported by columns or piers. arch a construction of bricks or stones so placed as by mutual pressure to support each other and a superincumbent weight. they may be semi-circular, segmental, elliptical, stilted, horse-shoe, pointed, trefoiled, cinquefoiled, or ogee. architrave in classical architecture, the lowest division of the entablature resting immediately on the abacus of the capital. in gothic buildings the ornamental mouldings round the openings of doors, windows, etc. archivolt the under surface of the curve of an arch, from impost to impost. ashlar shaped or squared stone used in building, as distinguished from that in the rough. astragal a small semi-circular bead or moulding. ball flower an ornament resembling a ball in a circular flower with three enclosing petals. dec. base the lower member of a column, pier, or wall. basilica a roman law-court. early christian churches when built on the same lines were called by the same name. billet an ornament much used in norman work and formed by cutting a moulding in notches, so that the remaining parts resembled wooden billets or pieces of stick. blind storey see triforium. bosses ornamental projections usually of foliage and placed at the intersection of the ribs of vaults, ceilings, etc. braces timbers which brace or support the main rafters. also called _struts_. broach a spire, generally octagonal and springing from the square top of the tower, without a parapet. (_see page 105_). buttress a projection from a wall, giving it additional strength. canopy in gothic architecture an ornamental hood or projection over doors, windows, niches, tombs, etc., and rarely found except in the dec. and perp. styles. capital the head of a column or pilaster, found in a great variety of shapes. cathedral a church presided over by a bishop. the principal church of a diocese. chalice the cup used for the wine at the celebration of the eucharist. chamfer the surface formed by cutting away the rectangular edge of wood or stone work. chancel the choir or eastern part of a church, appropriated to the use of those who officiate in the performance of the services. chantry a chapel often containing a tomb of the founder, and in which masses were said. chapel a small building attached to cathedrals and large churches. chapter-house the room where the dean and prebendaries meet for the transaction of business. chevron an ornament characteristic of the norman period and divided into several equal portions chevron-wise or zig-zag. choir that part of a church to the east of the nave where the services are celebrated, also called chancel, and frequently separated from the nave by an open screen of stone or wood. cinquefoil an ornamental foliation used in arches, tracery, etc., and composed of projecting points or cusps, so arranged that the opening resembles five leaves. clerestory possibly the _clear_ storey. an upper storey standing above or clear of the adjacent roofs, and pierced by windows to give increased light. cloister a covered walk or ambulatory forming part of a cathedral or college quadrangle. clustered column a pier made up of several columns or shafts in a cluster. colonnade a row or rows of columns supporting a roof or building. corbel usually a moulded or carved ornament projecting from the walls, acting as a bracket and capable of bearing a super-incumbent weight. cornice the horizontal termination of a building in the form of a moulded projection. course a continuous and regular line of stones or bricks in the wall of a building. crockets projecting ornaments in the form of leaves, flowers, etc., used to embellish the angles of pinnacles, spires, gables, canopies, etc. cross the accepted symbol of the christian religion and an architectural church ornament usually placed upon the apex of the gable. a large cross called a rood was at one time always placed over the entrance to the chancel. the cross was worn as a personal ornament ages before the christian era by the assyrians, and we are told that the druids also used this symbol in very early times. crypt sometimes called the undercroft, a vaulted chamber, usually underground and, in churches, rarely extending beyond the area of the choir or chancel, and often of less dimensions. cusps projecting points giving the foliated appearance to tracery, arches, panels, etc. dormer a gabled window pierced through a sloping roof. dripstone a projecting ledge or narrow moulding over the heads of doorways, windows, etc., to carry off the rain. fan-tracery tracery in which the ribs form a fan-like appearance and diverge equally in every direction. (peculiar to the late perp.) flamboyant tracery whereof the curves assume flame-like waves and shapes. flying buttress a buttress in the form of a bridge, usually transferring the thrust of the main roof from the clerestory walls to the main or aisle buttresses. font the vessel for holding the consecrated water used in baptism. gargoyle a projecting spout usually grotesquely carved and used to throw the water from the roof well away from the building. groin the line of intersection in vaulted roofs. impost horizontal mouldings, capping a column or pier, from which the arch springs. jamb the side of a window or door. keystone the central stone at the top of an arch. the bosses in vaulted ceilings are frequently called keys. lady chapel a chapel dedicated to the blessed virgin mary, called "our lady." lantern a small structure or erection surmounting a dome or tower to admit light. these towers are known as lantern towers. lozenge a name given in modern times to norman mouldings which partake of a lozenge formation. lych-gate from the anglo-saxon _lich_, a corpse. a small and often picturesque shelter at the entrance to a churchyard. minster the church usually of a monastery or abbey or one to which such has been an appendant. york and beverley, however, are exceptions to this rule. miserere a small bracket on the undersides of the seats of stalls. moulding a term generally applied to the contours given to angle projections or hollows of arches, doors, windows, etc. mullion the dividing bars of stone or wood between the lights of windows, or the openings of screens. münster has now lost its simple application. (monastery) nave from _navis_, a ship, the main body of a church west of the chancel. niche an alcove or recess in a wall for holding a statue or ornament. ogee a moulding or arch formed of a curve or curves somewhat like the letter s, the curve of contra-flexure, part being concave and part convex. orders in gothic architecture, the receding mouldings of an arch. parclose the screen or railings protecting a monument or chantry. parvise an open space or porch at the entrance to a church, and often wrongly applied to the room over a church porch. paten the small plate or salver used to hold the consecrated bread in the celebration of the eucharist. pendant ornaments which hang or _depend_ from a ceiling or roof. penthouse a covering projecting over a door, window, etc., as a protection from the weather. pier the masses or clusters of masonry between doors, windows, etc.; the supports from which arches spring. pillar a term frequently confounded with column, but differing from it in not being subservient to the rules of classical architecture, and in not of necessity consisting of a single circular shaft. pinnacle a small turreted ornament tapering towards the top, and used as a termination to many parts of gothic architecture. piscina the stone basin or sink in the chancel used for cleansing the communion vessels. plinth the lower division of the base of a column, pier or wall. poppy-head an ornament boldly carved on the tops of bench ends, etc. presbytery a term sometimes used to include the whole of the choir, but more often meant to refer to the eastern end of the choir from which it is generally raised by several steps. quarries or quarrels the small diamond, square or other the shaped panes used in plain glazing. quatrefoil the shape resembling four leaves formed in tracery or panels by cusps. quoin the external angle of a building, generally of ashlar. reredos the wall or screen at the back of an altar, often enriched with carving, niches, statues, etc. rood-beam or rood-loft the loft or beam which, previous to the reformation, supported the great rood, or crucifix. rose window a term often used to denote a circular window of several lights. rotunda a term used to describe a church or other building which is of circular formation both within and without. sacristry a room used in churches for storing the plate and valuables. sanctuary see presbytery. sedilia a seat or seats, generally canopied and situated on the south side of the chancel and used in pre-reformation days by the officiating clergy during the pauses in the mass. shaft the part of a column or pillar between the capital and the base. shrine often called the feretory. the place where relics were deposited. soffit the word means literally a ceiling, but is generally used to describe the flat under-surface of arches, cornices, stairways, etc. spandrels the spaces between the arch of a doorway or window and the rectangular mouldings over it. early tracery originated from the piercing of the spandrels of windows. spire the acutely pointed termination of towers, etc., originating by the elongation of the early pyramidal roofs. splay the slanting or sloped surface of a window opening in the thickness of the wall, also of doorways, etc.; the term is also applied to bevels and other sloped surfaces. springer see voussoir. squint an oblique opening or slit in the wall of a church, for the purpose of enabling persons in the aisles or transepts to see the elevation of the host at the high altar. they are mostly found on the sides of the chancel arch, and are frequently called _hagioscopes_. stoup a vessel for consecrated water, at or near the entrance to a church. string or string course. a horizontal projecting band of stone in the wall of a building. strut see brace. tooth ornament an ornament used almost exclusively in the e.e. style, resembling a square four-leaved flower, and thought to be based on the dog-tooth violet. transom a horizontal cross-bar in a panel or window. tracery the ornamental stonework in the upper part of a window; when formed by the mullions it is called bar tracery and when the spandrel is pierced, plate tracery. also used largely on tombs, screens, doorways, etc. transepts the projecting arms of a cruciform church, often wrongly called "cross-aisles." transition a term used to describe the process of change from one style of architecture to another. the three great periods of transition are from the romanesque and norman to the early english; the early english to the decorated, and the decorated to the perpendicular. trefoil an ornamental foliation in the heads of windows, panels, etc., in which the spaces formed by the cusps resemble three leaves. triforium or blind-storey. an open gallery or arcade without windows immediately above the pier arcade and under the roof of the aisle. tympanum the space between the top of a square-headed door and the arch above it; frequently sculptured. vault roofing of stone constructed on the principle of the arch, the intersections of which are termed groins and are in the pointed styles usually ribbed. vaulting shafts small shafts sometimes rising from the floor, sometimes from the capital of a pillar and sometimes from a corbel, and intended as supports for the ribs of a vault. vesica piscis an oval shape or figure formed by two equal circles cutting each other in their centres. very commonly found on episcopal and monastic seals. voussoir the wedge-shaped stones forming an arch, the centre one of which is the _keystone_ and those at the impost or starting point of the curve are the _springers_. zig-zag see chevron. a short bibliography of english ecclesiastical architecture. adeline, j. art dictionary of terms. bland, w. arches, piers, buttresses, etc. blomfield, r. short history of renaissance architecture. bond, francis english cathedrals illustrated. bond, francis gothic architecture in england. bonney, t. g. cathedrals, abbeys, and churches of england and wales. carter, j. the ancient architecture of england. colling, j. k. details of gothic architecture. corroyer, e. gothic architecture. cram, r. adams church building. davidson, e. a. gothic stonework. fergusson, j. handbook of architecture. fergusson, j. history of architecture. fairbairns, a. portfolio of english cathedrals. garbett, e. l. principles of design in architecture. markland, j. h. remarks on churches. moore, c. h. development and character of gothic architecture. paley, f. a. manual of gothic architecture. paley, f. a. manual of gothic mouldings. parker, j. h. a.b.c. of gothic architecture. parker, j. h. concise glossary of architecture. parker, j. h. introduction to the study of gothic architecture. perkins, rev. t. handbook of gothic architecture. prior, ed. s. history of gothic art. pugin, a. w. treatise on chancel screens and rood lofts. rickman, thos. gothic architecture. rickman, thos. attempts to discriminate the styles of architecture in england. sharpe, edmund the seven periods of english architecture. sharpe, edmund treatise on the rise and progress of window tracery. scott, g. history of church architecture. ruskin, john seven lamps of architecture. ruskin, john stones of venice. ruskin, john poetry of architecture. ruskin, john lectures on architecture. wall, j. c. shrines of british saints. winkle british cathedrals. wilson, s. romance of our ancient churches. bell's cathedral series. "the builder" portfolio of english cathedrals. murray's handbooks to the cathedrals. s.p.c.k. illustrated notes on english church history. swan, sonnenschein & co. notes on the cathedrals. "our english minsters." edited by dean farrar. this bibliography does not claim to be complete, but is a selection of the various books on the subject which should be studied by the student. index all souls' college, oxford, 76 altars, 80 alveston church, warwickshire, 41 amiens cathedral, 57 anne, queen, 76 apse, the, 27 arches- saxon, 35 norman, 37 early english, 49 decorated, 62 perpendicular, 66 ashchurch, gloucestershire, 106 baptistery, the, 84 barfreston church, kent, 39, 41 barnack church, northants 32, 33, 34, 101 barnstaple, devon, 98 barnwell, 92 barry, sir c., 78, 79 basilica, the, 26 bayeux tapestry, 41, 103 beaulieu, hants, 90 beckett's crown, canterbury, 106 bede (quoted), 21, 23, 96 bells and belfries, 95 bench ends, 89 bertha, queen, 23 beverley minster, 109 billesley church, warwickshire, 78 bishopstone, sussex, 32 bloxham church, 101 boston, lincs, 72 bovey church, 92 bradford-on-avon, 32 brewer, j. w. (quoted), 28 brighton pavilion, 78 brigstock church, northants, 97 bristol cathedral, 70 british churches, early, 19 brixworth church, 28, 32, 33, 97 broadmayne church, 86 bruton, som., 97 burne-jones, sir e., 107 bury st. edmunds, 82 buttresses- norman, 43 early english, 84 decorated, 62 perpendicular, 70 byzantium, 27 canterbury cathedral, 43, 94, 101, 104, 110 capitals- norman, 42 early english, 54 decorated, 60 perpendicular, 69 caradoc, king, 19 carlisle cathedral, 60, 106 charles ii., 76 charlton-on-otmoor, 92 charlton church, kent, 106 chartres cathedral, 101 chetwode, bucks, 106 chichester cathedral, 97 chipping norton, oxford, 81 christchurch priory, 88, 94, 107, 110 christ church, spitalfields, 76 chudleigh church, devon, 92 church furniture and ornaments, 80 cirencester church, glos., 70 classic reverse, the, 70 clerkenwell, 44 collumpton, devon, 92 compton church, 94 constantine, emperor, 27 constantinople, 27 cranley, surrey, 106 crawden's chapel, 58 croyland abbey, 96 crypts, 109 curfew, 96 decorated style, the, 57 doisnel, juliana, 44 dolton church, 84 doorways- saxon, 30, 32 norman, 39 early english, 54 decorated, 62 perpendicular, 69 dorchester church, oxford, 107 dore abbey, 81 dunstable, 92 dunster church, 81, 92 durham cathedral, 43, 73, 82, 94, 112 earl's barton church, 32, 33 early english style, the, 47 east dereham, 97 edburton church, 84 edington church, wilts, 72 edington, bp. william, 72 edmund, archbp. of cant., 84 edward i., 49 edward iii., 84 elizabeth, queen, 81, 110 eltham palace, 73 ely cathedral, 29, 43, 57 ely chapel, 60 ethelbert, king of kent, 23 euston, oxford, 94 evesham abbey, 73, 97 exeter cathedral, 89 fairford church, glos., 107 fan vaulting, 69 fergusson, dr. (quoted), 75 flying buttresses, 56 fonts, 84 fordington s. george, dorchester, 41 fotheringay church, northants, 73 fountains abbey, 47 fuller, thos. (quoted), 19 furness abbey, 87 furniture, church, 80 glass, stained, 104 glastonbury abbey, 19, 97 glossary, 115 gloucester cathedral, 43, 73, 94, 106, 110 gothic architecture, leading characteristics, 63 gothic styles, the, 47 grantham, 101 greenstead church, essex, 32, 34, 35 grosmont, monmouth, 81 hackness, 96 hanwell, oxford, 94 hartland church, 92 hawkesmore, 76 heckington, 86, 101 heigham, 72 henry i., 44 henry ii., 49 henry iii., 44, 48, 49 hereford cathedral, 57, 110 hexham, 82, 109 hutchinson, rev. j. m. (quoted), 49 iffley church, oxford, 39 jenkyns, canon (quoted), 25 john, king, 44, 48, 49 jones, inigo, 75, 78 kemsing, kent, 92 kenton church, devon, 90, 92 king's college chapel, cambridge, 107 king's sutton, 101 knights hospitallers, 44 knights templars, 43 lady chapel, exeter, 60 langham place, 78 lastingham church, york, 110 laud, archbishop, 16 ledbury, hereford, 103 leighton buzzard, 101 lichfield, abbot, 97 lichfield, cathedral, 57, 101 lincoln cathedral, 43, 52, 57, 63, 81, 106 little billing, 84 little maplestead, 44 llanrhaiadr-y-kinmerch, 107 luidhard, bishop, 23 long melford church, suffolk, 73 long sutton, 92 luton church, 58 lyminge, 25 magdalen college, oxford, 90 malmesbury (family), 110 manchester cathedral, 73, 88 markland (quoted), 97 mary, queen, 81, 92 marylebone church, 78 melbury bubb, 84 merton college, oxford, 58, 60, 106 minehead, 92 morley church, derbyshire, 107 morris, william, 107 morton church, soms., 73 mouldings- norman, 37 early english, 52 decorated, 62 perpendicular, 69 newark, notts., 92 new college, oxford, 72 norbury, derbyshire, 106 norman architecture, 35 norwich cathedral, 29, 43 ornaments- norman, 37 early english, 52 decorated, 60, 62 perpendicular, 68, 69, 70 ornaments, church, 80 oxford cathedral, 43, 101 palladio, 74, 75 parham, 84 parker (quoted), 31, 35, 88 parliament, houses of, 78 patrixbourne church, kent, 41 perkins, rev. t. (quoted), 110 perpendicular styles, 64 perpendicular towers, 72 perpendicular spires, 73 peterborough cathedral, 29, 43, 57 philippa, queen, 84 piscinas, 87 piers- norman, 42 early english, 54 decorated, 60 perpendicular, 68 plymtree, 92 pointed arch, the, 49 porches, 53 porlock church, somerset, 81 pugin, 78, 79 pulpits, 90 pyecombe, 84 pylle church, 86 radipole church, dorset, 98 ravenna, 33 reculver, 25 reform club, 79 renaissance, the, 74 repton church, derby, 109, 110 reredos, the, 94 richard i., 48, 49 richborough, 25 rickman (quoted), 35 ripon cathedral, 32, 109 rievaulx, 47 rochester cathedral, 42, 57, 109 rolvenden church, kent, 86 romanesque style, the, 27 rome, 33 ross, 101 rotherham church, yorks., 70 rothwell church, 87 round churches, the, 44 routledge, rev. c. f., m.a., f.s.a., 24 saffron walden, 73 saint alban's cathedral, 54, 94 saint andrew's, norwich, 73 saint anselm, 110 saint augustine, 19 saint benet's, cambridge, 32 saint chad's cathedral, birmingham, 79 saint clement's, norfolk, 73 saint cross, winchester, 39 saint david's, cathedral, 57, 73 saint dunstan, 96 saint edmundsbury, 97 saint edmund, martyr, 35 saint etheldreda, 58 saint ethelwold, 103 saint giles', oxford, 81 saint hilda, 96 saint lawrence, bradford-on-avon, 32, 33 saint margaret's, westminster, 107 saint mark's, venice, 28 saint mary abchurch, 76 saint mary magdalene, ripon, 81 saint mary redcliffe, bristol, 73 saint mary's, cambridge, 73 saint mary's, dover, 22 saint mary's, lincoln, 32 saint mary's, luton, 84 saint mary's, newark, 101 saint mary's, norwich, 73 saint mary's, ottery, 92 saint mary's, oxford, 73, 101 saint mary's, stamford, 92 saint mary's, taunton, 73 saint mary's, wareham, 81, 84 saint mary's, woolnoth, 76 saint mary's, york, 32 saint martin's, canterbury, 22 saint martin's, wareham, 32 saint michael's, coventry, 73 saint michael's, oxford, 32, 34, 94 saint nicholas, lynn, 73 saint nicholas, newcastle, 73 saint nicholas, yarmouth, 63 saint paul the apostle, 19 saint paul's cathedral, 75, 76, 101 saint paul's churchyard, 90 saint patrick, 21 saint peter port, guernsey, 98 saint peter's in the east, oxford 110 saint peter's, lincoln, 32 saint peter's, norwich, 73 saint peter's, rome, 75, 76 saint pierre, caen, 101 saint piran's, perranporth, 21 saint saviour's, dartmouth, 90, 92 saint saviour's southwark, 94 saint sepulchre, cambridge, 44 saint sepulchre, northampton, 44 saint sophia, constantinople, 28 saint stephen's, bristol, 73 saint stephen's chapel, westminster, 58 saint stephen's, walbrook, 76 saint thomas à becket, 110 saint wilfrid's needle, 109 saint wolfstan, 103 salisbury cathedral, 47, 57, 101, 106 sanctuary knockers, 82 saxon architecture, 31 saxon churches, 32 scott (quoted), 31 screens, 92 sedilia, 87 shottesbrook church, berks, 66, 103 shrewsbury, 90 silchester, 25 snettisham, norfolk, 101 solihull, warwickshire, 94 sompting, sussex, 32, 99 southwell, 57, 87 southwold church, suffolk, 73 speyer cathedral, 29 spires, 73, 99 squints, 90 stalls, 88 stanford, leicester, 106 stone church, kent, 54 stoups, 86 temple balsall, 44 temple church, london, 44 tenby, 90 tewkesbury abbey, 106 thaxted church, essex, 73 thornham church, kent, 86 towers, 33, 72 transom, the, 46, 49 trinity church, ely, 58 tympana, 41 uffendon, devon, 92 vitruvius, 74 wakefield church, yorkshire, 73 walpole, horace, 78 walton-on-the-hill, surrey, 84 wansted, oxford, 101 wantsume, 25 warmington, warwickshire, 81 wells cathedral, 53, 57, 110 west horsley, surrey, 106 westminster abbey, 48, 57, 63, 76, 78, 103 westminster hall, 73 westminster, henry's vii.'s chapel, 68, 88, 89 westwell, kent, 106 wilford church, oxford, 101 william the conqueror, 96 wimborne minster, 110 wimmington church, bedfordshire, 66 winchester cathedral, 43, 63, 72, 85, 88, 103, 110 winchester college, 72 windows- saxon, 32 norman, 39 early english, 52 decorated, 58 perpendicular, 68 wing, 32 wootton wawen, 32 worcester cathedral, 57, 109, 110 worms cathedral, 29 wren, sir christopher, 75, 76 wrexham church, 72 wroxhall abbey, 106 wykeham, william of, 72, 84 wymondham church, 72 york minster, 32, 57, 63, 66, 73, 94, 106, 109 the homeland handbooks copiously illustrated and provided with ordnance maps and plans. january, 1907. no. cloth. paper. 1 tonbridge for the angler, the holiday-maker, and the resident. by stanley martin and prescott row 1/ 6d. 2 tunbridge wells of to-day. by stanley martin and prescott row. ordnance map and plans. second edition 1/ 6d. 3 "london town." by eric hammond 1/ 6d. 4 "lyonesse": the isles of scilly. by j. c. tonkin and prescott row. fourth edition. map 2/ 1/ 5 "wolfe-land": the westerham district, kent. by gibson thompson. third edition. ordnance map 1/6 1/ 6 "kent's capital": maidstone. by stanley martin and prescott row. second edition. with map 1/ 6d. 7 croydon, new and old. by edward a. martin, f.g.s., and j. e. morris, b.a. third edition. with map 1/ 6d. 8 dartmoor and its surroundings. by beatrix f. 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(cloth only) 2/6 - 36 oxted, limpsfield, and edenbridge. by gordon home. ordnance map 1/ 6d. 37 lynton, lynmouth, and the lorna doone country. by j. e. morris, b.a. ordnance map 1/ 6d. 38 horsham and its surroundings. by rev. w. goodliffe, m.a. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 39 seaford and newhaven. by geo. day. ordnance map 1/ 6d. 40 the great ouse. huntingdon, st. neots, and st ives. by h. l. jackson, m.a., and g. r. holt shafto. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 41 king's lynn with its surroundings, including sandringham. by w. a. dutt. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 42 woking and ripley with their surroundings. by a. h. anderson. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 43 hertford and its surroundings. by w. graveson. ordnance map. 2/ 1/ 44 dorking and leatherhead. by joseph e. morris, m.a. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 45 waltham and cheshunt. by freeman bunting. ordnance map 1/ 6d. 46 dorchester with its surroundings. by f. w. and sidney heath. with a foreword by thomas hardy. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 47 luton church. by constance isherwood. with plan 1/ 6d. 48 reading and its surroundings. by a. h. anderson. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 49 sutton and its surroundings. by f. richards. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 50 watford and its surroundings. by walter moore. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 51 yeovil and its surroundings. by frank heath. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 52 aylesbury and its surroundings. by walter moore. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 53 gravesend and its surroundings. by a. j. philip. ordnance map 2/ 1/ 54 high wycombe and its surroundings. by henry harbour - - 55 our homeland churches, and how to study them. by sidney heath 2/ -handbooks for many other towns and districts are in active preparation. transcriber's note all variant spelling, variable hyphenation and variable capitalisation have been retained. italics are represented by underscores. the cambridge manuals of science and literature the historical growth of the english parish church cambridge university press london: fetter lane, e.c. c. f. clay, manager [illustration] edinburgh: 100, princes street berlin: a. asher and co. leipzig: f. a. brockhaus new york: g. p. putnam's sons bombay and calcutta: macmillan and co., ltd. _all rights reserved_ [illustration: st benet's, cambridge: west tower from n.w.] the historical growth of the english parish church by a. hamilton thompson m.a., f.s.a. cambridge: at the university press 1911 cambridge: printed by john clay, m.a. at the university press _with the exception of the coat of arms at the foot, the design on the title page is a reproduction of one used by the earliest known cambridge printer, john siberch, 1521_ preface this small book is intended to be a companion and complement to the writer's book in the same series on _the ground plan of the english parish church_. in that book the growth of the ground plan is treated with necessarily scanty reference to the circumstances to which, directly or indirectly, that growth is due. some attempt is made in the present volume to supply an account of the historical conditions amid which our parish churches were built, to say something of the builders, and to remove the popular idea, still current even among educated people, that our architecture is mainly due to the profuse benefactions of the religious orders. a special chapter on chantry foundations, which played so large a part in the life of the later middle ages, follows the general historical chapter. the western tower, the porch, and the chancel are then described with more fulness than was possible in the description of the ground plan; and the decoration and furniture of the various parts of the church are treated in the closing chapter. the writer returns thanks for much help to his wife, to whom a sketch and the plans in the book, except that of burford, are due; to the rev. j. c. cox, ll.d., f.s.a., and to the rev. r. m. serjeantson, m.a., f.s.a., who have read through his proofs, and provided him with many useful suggestions; to the editor of the _archaeological journal_, for the use of the plan of burford church; and to messrs c. c. hodges, j. p. gibson, f.s.a., e. kennerell, and a. j. loughton, for the loan of photographs. a. h. t. _april, 1911._ contents chapter i the historical development of the parish church section page 1. early parish churches in england 1 2. the monastic missionary settlements: church-building on private estates 3 3. the danish invasions and the monastic revival 5 4. german influence on pre-conquest architecture 6 5. influence of the normans on the architecture of parish churches 7 6. the parish church at the norman conquest 10 7. appropriation of churches to monasteries: ordination of vicarages 11 8. relation of monastic owners to the fabrics of churches 13 9. the builders of medieval parish churches 15 10. the parish church and its rectors 17 11. disadvantages of pluralism and litigation 18 12. growth of the chantry system 20 13. chantry chapels at beckingham, lincolnshire 21 14. summary 22 chapter ii the chantry chapel in the parish church 15. chantries and colleges of chantry priests 24 16. foundation of chantry colleges 27 17. parochial chapels 29 18. religious and trade guilds 30 19, 20. the chantry chapel: its influence on the church plan 33 21. chancels of collegiate churches 37 22. st john baptist's, cirencester 39 23. chesterfield and scarborough; charnel chapels 41 24. burford church, oxon 42 25. st michael's and holy trinity, coventry 45 26. importance of the work of lay benefactors 48 chapter iii the tower, the porch, and the chancel 27. subject of the chapter 51 28. the western tower before the conquest 53 29. survival of the older type of tower after the conquest 56 30. architectural development of the tower 59 31. the spire 60 32. the tower of the later middle ages: its relation to the clerestory of the nave 62 33. western doorways and porches 65 34. side doorways of the church 67 35. the porch: altars in porches 68 36. chambers above porches 71 37. altars in towers: habitations in connexion with churches 73 38. variety of position of the tower 75 39. the chancel arch 76 40. enlargement of the chancel and architectural treatment 78 41. fourteenth century chancels in yorkshire and the northern midlands 80 42. decline of chancel building in the fifteenth century: the laity and the nave 85 43. sacristies 88 44. squints, priests' doors, low side windows 90 45. crypts and bone-holes 95 chapter iv the furniture of a medieval parish church: conclusion 46. remains of medieval decorations 98 47. mural paintings 98 48. stained glass 102 49. coloured furniture of stone and wood 105 50. furniture of the nave and aisles: font and benches 106 51. chapels in aisles 109 52. pulpits, galleries, etc. 110 53. the rood screen 112 54. the rood loft and beam 116 55. quire stalls and lectern 117 56. levels of the chancel 119 57. the altar and its furniture 120 58. piscina, sedilia, and almeries 122 59. the easter sepulchre 124 60. exceptional furniture 128 61. parish churches after the reformation 129 62. later parish churches 130 63. post-reformation work and modern restoration 131 bibliography 134 index 137 list of illustrations st benet's, cambridge: west tower from n.w. _frontispiece_ page sketch of hallaton, chantry chapel in s. aisle 25 plan of cirencester church 40 plan of burford church 43 plan of st michael's church, coventry 46 plan of holy trinity church, coventry 47 norton, co. durham: saxon central tower, with transept 52 carlton-in-lindrick, notts: west tower 57 tickhill, yorkshire: general view from s.e., shewing clerestory, western tower and projecting eastern chapel 63 st mary's, beverley: south porch 69 cirencester: south porch 72 patrington: north side of chancel and vestry 83 walpole st peter: from n.e. 86 wensley: chancel, with low side window, from s.e. 91 st mary redcliffe, bristol: from n.e. 95 patrington: interior, looking across nave from s. transept 99 well, yorkshire: font cover 107 banwell, somerset: rood screen 113 hawton, notts: easter sepulchre 125 chapter i the historical development of the parish church § 1. the early history of the english parish church is obscure, owing to the fact that architectural remains of the earliest fabrics are somewhat scanty, and that their actual date still affords ground for dispute. the episcopal constitution of the romano-british church is not fully known; but it is probable that, as in gaul, every considerable centre of population possessed within its walls a church, which followed the 'basilican' arrangement common to the christian churches of the roman empire. but while, on the continent of europe, the ecclesiastical history of the chief provincial capitals remained unbroken, and the great cathedrals of the middle ages rose upon sites which had been, from the establishment of christianity in the empire, the centres of the religious life of roman cities, the continuous history of church-building in england was broken by the relapse into heathenism which followed the victorious invasions of the saxons. the history of church architecture begins again with the coming of st augustine in 597 a.d. of churches which may reasonably be said to have been built as an immediate result of his mission, there are several remains in kent; and the famous church of st martin at canterbury is probably in large part the building which he and his companions used for their first services. there is more than one theory as to the original extent of the church; but there can be little doubt that the western part of the chancel, the south wall of which is built of roman brick, is of augustine's time. bede tells us that augustine found an earlier church, built during the roman occupation, on this site or on a site closely corresponding to it. it is safe to assume that he repaired this building, and spared all that he could of its materials. apart from the kentish churches there remains, on the remote part of the essex coast, a building known as st peter's on the wall, which appears to be connected architecturally with the kentish group. its history cannot be traced back earlier than about 653 a.d., when st cedd was sent from northumbria to preach to the east saxons. one of his two chief missionary centres was the roman city of othona, then known as ythanceaster, at the mouth of the blackwater. here he ordained and baptized: he also, says bede, built churches in several places. st peter's on the wall, now long disused, stands on the site of the eastern gateway of othona, and is largely built of re-used roman material. it presents difficulties of site and plan which forbid us to connect it positively with st cedd; but there is a high probability that it is his church, while, in point of plan, it is too closely allied to the kentish group to admit of a doubt as to its connexion with those churches. the actual way in which the connexion came about is, however, a difficult problem to solve. § 2. there is much uncertainty with regard to the chronology of pre-conquest architecture in england. from the actual masonry of the buildings it is difficult to gather much information. saxon builders shewed little architectural skill: their methods were unprogressive; and the chief criterion by which we may estimate any degree of progress in their work is found in their efforts to develop the ground plan of their churches. the course of architectural evolution between the coming of st augustine and the norman conquest suffered more than one serious check. the later part of the seventh century, the age of wilfrid and archbishop theodore, was an epoch during which ecclesiastical art flourished. it is now that we arrive at the beginning of the history of the parish church as distinguished from the monastic missionary settlement of early saxon times. the churches which augustine and his companions had founded at canterbury and rochester were churches of monasteries, established as missionary centres in a heathen kingdom. the work of evangelisation was carried on for a century afterwards by the agency of monastic communities. the churches of benedict biscop at monkwearmouth and jarrow, wilfrid's churches at hexham and ripon, the mercian churches of peterborough and brixworth, were all churches of monks. but, as christianity grew in the saxon kingdoms, churches were naturally multiplied. wilfrid himself was a large land-owner in mercia, and may be credited with the building of churches upon his lands: the foundation of the monastery of brixworth and the church of barnack may be attributed to his influence. his example would be followed by others; and we shall not be far wrong if we look upon the private estate of saxon times as identical with the early parish. owners of large estates built churches upon their property; and undoubtedly the growth of church-building on private lands led to that organisation of the ecclesiastical system in england, which was the great work of theodore's episcopate. during this period, the church plan was founded upon a compromise; but continental influence, if modified by contact with celtic traditions, was strong; and this influence came from italy through the channel of the gallican church. § 3. when wilfrid died in 709 a.d., the age of religious and artistic activity was already passing. the power of northumbria was declining; and the record of the next hundred years is one of quarrels between the various tribal kings of britain. at the end of the eighth century the northmen appeared on the northumbrian coast. significant features of their activity were the destruction of the church of lindisfarne and the sack of the monastery at wearmouth. during the next fifty years, while the kingdom of wessex was rising to the front place in english affairs, the incursions of the danes became more constant. in 851 a.d. a danish army took up its winter quarters in england. from thanet and sheppey the northmen extended their ravages over the whole east coast. the army which defeated the east anglian levies at thetford in 870 marked its progress across mercia and east anglia by the destruction of monasteries, chief among them the abbey of peterborough. during the next hundred years, under the constant pressure of danish invasion, little or no church-building can have been done; and it is likely that, for a long time before 870, little progress had been made. in 958 or 959 edgar the peaceable succeeded to the throne of wessex and became master of the whole of england. during his reign, which lasted till 975, the great ecclesiastics who rose to influence at his court, dunstan, oswald and ethelwold, busied themselves with the re-establishment of monasticism in england, and the rebuilding of churches. the activity of oswald in worcestershire, gloucestershire, and at ramsey in huntingdonshire, of ethelwold at winchester, ely and peterborough, shews how widespread was the area of the destruction wrought by the danes. this period of revival lasted until the beginning of the eleventh century. the danish conquest under the heathen swegen brought more destruction with it, and although cnut restored the churches which his father had destroyed, it was probably not until the accession of edward the confessor in 1042 that another era of church-building began in earnest. § 4. during the religious revival under dunstan and his fellow prelates, the reformers looked once more to the continent for inspiration. gaul, however, was no longer a possible source. between england and the french kingdom which was rising on the ruins of the neustrian monarchy, lay the danelaw of gaul, the province of normandy. access to the old current of religious tradition, denied on that side, was unimpeded on the side of the low countries and germany, where, along the rhine, the austrasian kingdom still pursued its existence under the powerful sway of the saxon emperors who had superseded the house of charles the great. it was from monasteries in this district that the restoration of the religious life in england was most powerfully helped; and with such help, came inevitably architectural influence. if we are to look anywhere for the immediate origin of such well-known features of pre-conquest architectural detail as "long-and-short" work or strip-work, it is to be found in the early religious buildings of the rhine provinces. their ultimate origin was, no doubt, italian; but during this period, english building indicates no such close communication with original sources as existed during the period of gallo-roman influence. the era of german influence lasted but a short time, and examples of it, though familiar from the peculiar details of their masonry, are comparatively few. the builders of the period immediately preceding the conquest seem to have been thrown more upon their own resources, and to have abandoned german details gradually in favour of a more simple fashion of building. certain german features, however, which had been imperfectly developed during the period of revival, persisted in their work; and the closest parallels to the english towers of the eleventh century, so common in lincolnshire and parts of yorkshire, are to be seen in western germany, and in that part of italy where german influence was most powerful. § 5. the development of norman architecture in england was due to the increasing skill in construction which followed the conquest. for the building of the larger churches, foreign prelates relied on the help of norman masons, trained in artistic methods far in advance of those which saxon builders had learned to use. the great aisled churches of the monasteries, durham, winchester, norwich, or gloucester, planned and built under the superintendence of men who were in close touch with the contemporary art of normandy, led the way, and provided patterns of architecture which could not fail to exercise an influence upon the smaller churches of the country. in the early parish churches of the norman period, we cannot expect to find this influence strongly marked. local masons had little opportunity of acquaintance with the more advanced craftsmanship of the normans until some large cathedral or abbey church rose in their neighbourhood, and supplied them with a model. even then their imitation would be rough and uncertain, until practice made perfect their first attempts. the model would also provide them with a plan far beyond the requirements of a parish church, where a single priest served a limited congregation. there was no need of the provision of a large quire or of a number of separate altars: the ritual necessaries were all of the simplest kind. the old plan therefore sufficed in most instances. it is in the masonry that we notice the earliest introduction of modifications and improvements. the thin saxon walling gives place to more massive construction: walls composed of a rubble core with facings of dressed stone take the place of the rubble masonry with through-stone quoins and dressings of the later saxon period. the recessing of the arch, with shafts in its jambs, becomes gradually understood: the beginnings of the practice were rough and unintelligent, and it was not without difficulty that the local builder learned the structural use of jamb-shafts as supporting and corresponding to the orders of the arch above. our country churches supply many instances of this faltering treatment of new motives. here and there it is possible to trace the direct influence of some large norman building on the work of the country mason. at branston, four miles south-east of lincoln, the western tower of the church belongs to the class which is common in the neighbourhood--a class whose origin is earlier than the introduction of norman influence. its masonry has several characteristics of the type known as saxon. but the high arch of its western doorway, and the small arcades which have been introduced, on either side of the doorway, in the face of the tower, shew very clearly that its builder had seen norman work, and was attempting, roughly, but not without success, to copy it. further, the arch of its doorway, and the tall shafts, with crocketed capitals, which support it, are beyond doubt closely imitated from the lower arches of the norman west front of lincoln minster. as the norman church at lincoln was consecrated in 1092, the tower at branston can hardly be earlier than that date, and may be several years later. such examples as this shew that there is still much to discover with regard to the chronology of the later saxon architecture, and that the grasp of new methods by native builders was acquired very gradually. § 6. we know, from the indications with respect to certain counties supplied by domesday book, that in 1086 the number of parish churches in england corresponded closely to the number which existed until the comparatively modern sub-division of parishes. domesday was not intended to be a directory or clergy list; and the return of the churches existing upon manors depended upon the view which its individual compilers took of their duties. we have seen that the earliest english churches were monastic centres of missionary influence, built on land granted by wealthy converts to christianity. the revival at the end of the tenth century was also monastic. but, after the age of dunstan, the monastic ideal suffered an eclipse. the parish churches of the later saxon age, although many of them had been granted to, and remained the property of monasteries, were for the most part, if not entirely, served by secular priests who were under no monastic obligation. the parish was co-extensive, so far as we can tell, with the estate of the saxon landlord: in most cases the church was his property, the appointment of the priest lay in his hands, and the church and its advowson passed to the norman land-owner who superseded him. § 7. with the norman conquest came a great revival of monastic life. the conquerors founded and heaped benefactions on new monasteries, or enlarged the possessions of norman abbeys by granting them new estates in england. many manors and more churches thus became the property of religious houses; and, where the property of a benefactor was widely scattered, a monastery might acquire a number of churches in many different counties. thus the church of kirkby in malhamdale, in west yorkshire, became the property of the abbey of west dereham, in norfolk; while a moiety of the tithes of gisburn, in the same neighbourhood, belonged to the nuns of stainfield, near lincoln. these gifts, in the first instance, depended entirely on the free will of pious benefactors. the monasteries were naturally expected to present suitable priests to the churches; but this was left to their discretion. the logical result of these unconditional benefactions was that, as time went on, many churches were totally appropriated by monasteries: the income from the tithes, which should have served for the support of parish priests, was absorbed by the religious proprietors. bishops recognised the evil; and towards the beginning of the thirteenth century steps were taken to check the control of monasteries over their subject churches. archbishop geoffrey plantagenet in 1205 allowed the abbey of west dereham to appropriate the fruits of the church of kirkby in malhamdale, but required them to reserve a stipend of ten marks yearly for a vicar. such ordinations of vicarages became common within the next few years; and the great feature of the episcopate of hugh of wells, bishop of lincoln 1209-35, was the provision of vicars, not monks, but secular priests with sufficient stipends, in the appropriated churches of his huge diocese. the monastery was usually allowed to take the greater tithes, _i.e._ the tithes of corn, for itself, the smaller tithes, or a sum in commutation of them, being reserved to the vicar. the study of episcopal registers shews that these provisions were sometimes evaded; and anyone who has made out lists of vicars of appropriated churches knows that frequently long gaps occur, in which it is probable that the monastery allowed the presentation to lapse unchecked; but the ordination of vicarages was in great measure a cure for the evil. however, during the thirteenth century, laymen still continued to present religious bodies with large gifts of property. the inroads which these benefactions began to make upon estates held in chief of the king were a menace to royal power. in order to provide a regular restraint upon the growth of ecclesiastical property, the statute of mortmain was passed in 1279. as a consequence of this measure, any man who wished to alienate land or churches to a religious corporation, was required to apply for royal letters patent. if it were found by inquisition that the property could be alienated without prejudice to the king or the lord from whom the fee was immediately held, the licence was granted; and, if a church formed part of the property, the religious corporation was allowed to appropriate it by the grant of a further licence, the ordination of a vicarage being left to the decree of the bishop. it need hardly be said that a very large number of churches remained all through the middle ages in the hands of private patrons, and that by no means all churches granted to monasteries were appropriated by them. of the arrangements for these unappropriated rectories more will be said later. the connexion of the parish churches with the monasteries is of great importance, however, for our present purpose. § 8. as so many churches belonged to monasteries, it is constantly assumed that the monasteries, especially during norman times, provided parish churches at their own expense. thus the splendid series of churches in south lincolnshire, on the road from sutton bridge to spalding, is said, without historical foundation, to have been produced by rivalry in church-building between croyland abbey and other monasteries. it is true that, as at spalding in 1284, the religious house would probably contribute a certain amount to the building or rebuilding of an appropriated church, but that amount would be limited, and the parishioners would be left to provide the rest according to their means. when vicarages were ordained, the repair of the chancel, the rector's peculiar property, was usually left to the monastery as rector; but we often find that a special stipulation was made by which part of the repairs even of this portion of the church devolved upon the vicar, and that sometimes his stipend was so arranged as to free the monastery of this obligation altogether. a monastery naturally regarded the fruits of a church as an addition to its own income. the most that could be expected of it would be that it would employ a reasonable part of the profits in keeping the fabric in order. if the monastery owned the manor as well as the advowson, it probably, and here and there unmistakably, did more for the fabric of the parish church. but these fabrics were in most cases existing when the monasteries took seisin of the advowsons of the churches in question. when appropriation followed, the enrichment of the monastery, not the enlargement of the building, was the end in view; and the plea made by the monastery in dealing with the bishop over appropriations, was invariably one of poverty. when a church, then, was rebuilt or enlarged, the money came for the most part from parishioners, the monastery supplying its proportion, not without a view to strict economy. § 9. further, the builders were generally, it may be assumed, local masons. we have seen an indication of this at branston, where the builder grafted imitative detail in a new style upon his own old-fashioned work. the splendid development of many twelfth century parish churches is no argument against their local origin. architectural enthusiasm in the middle ages was a possession of the people generally: it was not confined to a limited and privileged body. the large monastery or cathedral churches in every neighbourhood were sources of inspiration to the builders of the parish churches: details were copied, and methods of construction were learned from them, and the structural progress which took place in them had a constant influence upon the architectural improvement of the less important buildings. here and there, perhaps, a mason, who had taken part in the building of one of the greater churches, would be called into consultation for the design of a parish church; and this, as years went by, would become more common. it should be noted that in the middle ages the builder was not a mere instrument to carry out the designs of an architect. he himself, the master mason of the work, was the architect. his training lay, not in the draughtsmanship of an architect's office, but in practical working with mallet and chisel. thus, during at any rate the earlier part of the middle ages, design was in no small degree a matter of instinct. architecture was a popular, democratic art, in which the instinctive faculties became trained to a high pitch. the individual mason was allowed free play for his talent; and the result was that constant variety of design and detail, that continual movement and progress, those forward steps or that conservative hesitation in the art of different districts, which are the eternal attraction of medieval architecture. one feature of the instinctive faculty of design in the builder was that he did much of his work by eye alone. he must have made some rough measurements for the setting out of his buildings; but he was not always provided with a plan or elevations. even in our larger churches, his work was sometimes left to his own judgment. the western transept at lincoln, for example, can hardly have been built with much forethought. each set of masons employed upon it seems to have been left to its own devices: accurate spacing was entirely neglected, and the connexion between the different parts of the design was evidently a matter of guess-work, which led to curious irregularities in the elevation. in this striking instance, the builders were doubtless hampered by having to build their new transept round older buildings, which were not taken down until their work was well advanced; and the encumbered site alone may account for some bewilderment. § 10. parish churches in england may be divided, for historical purposes, into four classes. (1) in some monastic churches, as in the benedictine priory of selby and the augustinian priory of bridlington, the parochial altar was in the nave of the church, west of the rood screen, and was served by a vicar or a curate, who was responsible for the spiritual welfare of the parish. (2) in collegiate churches a similar arrangement existed; but in the majority of such cases the dean or warden of the college was regarded as the parson of the parish, and had the cure of souls. (3) of parish churches appropriated to monasteries, we have spoken already. (4) there remains the very large number of unappropriated parish churches, in which the rector or parson was directly responsible for the cure of souls. the duties of the rector were regarded in the middle ages with considerable latitude. nothing was more usual than for a man of good family, or one whose clerkly talents made him a constant attendant on the king or the great officers of state, to obtain a number of benefices which provided him with a necessary income. such parsons were naturally non-resident: as often as not, they had not proceeded to full orders. the patent rolls are full of grants of benefices to persons engaged in the work of the royal chancery or exchequer; while the papal registers in the vatican library contain thousands of dispensations by which pluralists were enabled to hold several benefices at a time, to acquire benefices up to a stated value, or to defer their ordination to the priesthood. popes and bishops alike kept a careful watch on the attempt to obtain additional benefices without licence; but it is quite obvious that little discrimination could be exercised, and that dispensations became matters of form, for which the applicant, backed by a request from the king or some magnate, made a payment in money. pluralism was further increased by the pope's claim to reserve certain benefices on a vacancy, and provide incumbents to them. this claim, which originally was intended to prevent patrons from keeping benefices vacant and appropriating their fruits, led to the enactment of the statute of provisors in 1351. papal provisions, though nominally forbidden, were not stopped by this law, but became subject to regulation. § 11. to the medieval mind, the habit of a non-resident rector, holding several churches in plurality, was a matter of course, which cannot be judged by the moral standard of our own day. it must be regarded simply as a fact, not as an abuse. the rector was required to see that his churches were properly served, and probably, like his successors after the reformation, he paid a curate to do his work in each of his churches. in some cases, like monastic impropriators, he made an arrangement by which a vicar was provided with a fixed stipend; and now and then a vicar was properly instituted by the bishop at his presentation. this was the regular course of procedure in parish churches attached to prebends in cathedral and collegiate churches, which were held for the most part by king's clerks, and often by foreigners appointed by the pope. but it is clear that, where a man held ten or twelve churches at once, they might be served very irregularly. again, no form of litigation in the middle ages was so common as that between two or more claimants of an advowson. the sub-division of the ownership of a manor might and did constantly lead to a dispute between rival patrons for the presentation to a living. thus, in the latter half of the thirteenth century, the church of adlingfleet in yorkshire became the subject of a long law-suit between two separate patrons, the archbishop of york, and their presentees, which was protracted for nearly thirty years before the royal and papal courts. the candidates, all non-residents, strove to obstruct each other. in the parish itself they made attempts to defend their rights by force, and it is difficult to see how, during this period of strife, the cure of souls could have been adequately served. churches appropriated to monasteries were more fortunate; for they, in most instances, had the advantage of a resident vicar, and the appropriation removed disputes as to the patronage. § 12. pluralism and litigation, in themselves, had no noticeable effect on architectural development. but they led to a desire, on the part of the parishioners, for resident clergy with an endowment independent of the caprices of lay patrons. and this led to the establishment of chantry priests at the altars of churches, which had a powerful effect upon the architectural growth of the churches in which they served. towards the end of the thirteenth century, and from that time to the reformation, the foundation of chantries in parish churches became a common thing. zeal for the foundation of monasteries had spent itself. lay benefactors acquired the habit of alienating land, not to some religious house, but to one or more priests who, as a condition of the gift, should say mass daily at one of the altars of a parish church for the good estate of the giver and other persons named by him, and for their souls after death. these endowments of services were known as chantries, and were intended to continue for ever. many chantries were founded in cathedral and monastery churches; but, as time went on, the church of the parish in which the benefactor lived was more and more frequently chosen as their site. that this had been always the custom is probable; but it was a custom which certainly was not universal until the later middle ages. from the time of the enactment of the statute of mortmain, we possess a series of royal licences for the foundation of chantries and gifts of land to chantry priests, which are invaluable in tracing the history of the english parish church. a chantry, however, is a service, not the building in which it is held. it might be founded at the high altar of a church, but more usually was connected with one of the lesser altars. it was natural, however, that a founder would be willing to do something for the repair of the part of the church in which his chantry was held. repair took the form of enlargement and rebuilding; and while special chantry chapels were sometimes built as excrescences from the main body of the church, the usual building which was done in connexion with a chantry implied the widening or addition of an aisle. § 13. a good concrete example of this procedure is the church of beckingham, five miles east of newark-on-trent, a building of various periods, but chiefly of the early part of the thirteenth century. the aisles of the nave are wide, and belong, in their present condition, to the fourteenth century. at the end of each are distinct indications of the former presence of an altar. the parson of beckingham in the second quarter of the fourteenth century was thomas sibthorpe, a man of some substance, and one of the royal clerks. his benefactions to the church of his native village of sibthorpe and to beckingham involved him in some litigation, ample records of which are to be found in the patent rolls. in 1332 he obtained a licence to found a chantry in the chapel of st mary, in the north part of beckingham church, and by the end of 1347, he built the chapel of st anne, on the south side of the church. both the existing chapels agree with one another in date; and we may safely infer that sibthorpe probably widened, and certainly rebuilt both the aisles between 1332 and 1347. he evidently intended his chapel of st mary to be of some importance, as the chantry priest was called the warden, and was probably intended to be the head of a small college, such as existed at sibthorpe. of a chantry in the chapel of st anne we know nothing: sibthorpe endowed two candles to be burned there at certain times. an interesting feature of this fourteenth century rebuilding is that the north and south doorways, both of late twelfth century work, were removed to the new walls. § 14. the growth of chantry foundations formed the most remarkable feature of the lay activity of the later middle ages, and is treated in the next chapter with a view to its influence on architectural progress. we may sum up the influence of the historical facts already indicated upon the fabric of the parish church in the following conclusions: (1) the origin of the parish church was the spiritual need of the private estate. (2) the lord of the manor was the founder and provided the fabric. (3) the work of the fabric was entrusted to local masons. (4) in the division of expense, the rector became responsible for the chancel and the altar from which he received his dues. (5) the parishioners were responsible for the fabric of the nave. (6) in churches appropriated to monasteries, the chancel was the only part of the fabric for which the monastery was responsible, and a part of its responsibility was usually laid upon the vicar. (7) where the monastery was lord of the manor, it would take its share of the building and up-keep of the church with the other parishioners. we shall see in a later chapter some concrete instances of manorial and monastic influence at work upon the structure of the church. chapter ii the chantry chapel in the parish church § 15. the chantry and the guild chapel had so important an influence on the plan of the parish church, and especially of the larger church, that they deserve further consideration, in company with the anomalies of plan which are their result. chantries increased in number during the fourteenth century, and, from the period of the black death to the reformation, had an ever growing importance. at grantham, where it is clear that the enlargement of the church was due to the increase of chantries, three were founded in 1349, two of them at altars inside the church. in 1392 two new chantries were founded, at the altars of holy trinity and corpus christi, and the maintenance of chantries at the altars of st mary and st john baptist was increased by new benefactions. thus, to large churches, a large staff of priests became attached. although grantham was never incorporated as a collegiate church, the body of clergy which served it seem to have had common services in quire together, and to have been known as the 'college.' the chantry priests of a large church would benefit from incorporation in the ordinary course of things, and it very often happened that they were formed into a regular college, or that provisions were made affecting their common life. st william's college at york was founded for the chantry priests of the minster in 1461 by archbishop neville and his brother, the king-maker. in 1482-3 archbishop rotherham founded his college of jesus at rotherham, to which, as a secondary provision of the foundation, the chantry priests already existing in the church were to be attached. rotherham recognised that a large body of individual priests, whose duties for the day were finished with their daily mass, would be open to temptation if they were allowed to choose their own lodgings as they liked; and thomas kent, whose executors in 1481 founded a 'perpetual commonalty' of the seven chantry priests of st james garlickhithe in the city of london, expressed his opinion that these chaplains 'conversed among laymen and wandered about, rather than dwelt among clerks, as was decent.' not infrequently, a benefactor who wished to found a chantry of more than one chaplain, acquired the advowson of the church in which it was to be founded, and secured its appropriation to his chaplains, who held it in perpetuity, and were incorporated as a college. this was the case with the college of sibthorpe. in 1333 sir john heslerton, patron of the church of lowthorpe in east yorkshire, founded a college of six priests in the church, whose duties were set forth in detail by archbishop melton in his ordinance for the new college, which included the appropriation of the church to it. sir john represented to the archbishop that the fruits of the living would serve for the maintenance of more than one parson, but that there were few ministers there. 'many persons there,' he said, 'who are attached to the worship of the holy trinity and st mary, and are desirous of daily service in their honour and for the departed, grow lukewarm because of the frequent absence of anyone to celebrate in the church, when their minister is engaged in the visitation of the sick, or in discharge of the other duties of his office.' six chantries were founded, with a priest to each, known as the chantries of the trinity, st mary, the archbishop, the chapter, the founder, and the patron. the head of the college was known as the rector. he and the six chaplains had a common habitation in the rectory. daily they were to assemble in the church, with the three clerks attached to the college, one of whom at least was to be a deacon, and chant the canonical services. the chaplains were obliged to wear a common dress of black or nearly dark cloth with black surcoats. [illustration: fig. 1. hallaton, leicestershire: chapel in s. aisle.] § 16. the great advantage of colleges of chantry priests was that they ensured a constantly resident ministry in the parish. this, in days when rectors were frequently non-residents or pluralists, whose real business lay in attending on the king in the chancery or exchequer, was a most desirable circumstance. but it is also quite easy to see that, in a parish like lowthorpe, a small country village between bridlington and driffield, if there were too few ministers before the foundation of the college, there probably were too many after. their duty, as enunciated by the founder, was to celebrate divine service for the departed; and this was a duty which, sacred though it was, left those who were bound by it a fair margin of leisure. also, in some churches, the chantry foundations were on a very large scale. the college of cotterstock in northants was founded in 1337 for a provost and twelve chaplains. in 1411 the college of fotheringhay was founded, only two miles away, for a master, twelve chaplains, eight clerks, and thirteen choristers. of the three chantry colleges in shropshire, battlefield was founded at first for a master and seven chaplains, to pray for the dead who fell at the battle of shrewsbury; tong was founded in 1410 for a warden and four chaplains; newport was enlarged from a chantry of two chaplains, founded in 1432, to a college of a warden and four chaplains in 1442. other colleges which may be cited out of many were haccombe in devon, founded in 1335 for an arch-priest and five chaplains; bunbury in cheshire, founded in 1386-7 for a master and six chaplains; clovelly in devon, founded in 1387-8 for a warden and six chaplains; pleshy in essex, founded in 1393-4 for a master or warden, eight chaplains, two clerks, and two choristers; higham ferrers in northants, founded in 1425 for a master or warden, seven chaplains, four clerks, and six choristers; tattershall in lincolnshire, founded in 1439 for a master or warden, six chaplains, six secular clerks, and six choristers, with thirteen almspeople; and middleham in yorkshire, founded in 1477-8 for a dean, six chaplains, four clerks, six choristers, and one secular clerk. all these foundations bore a distinct resemblance to the ordinary collegiate bodies, such as those of the cathedrals, or of wolverhampton, tamworth, bridgnorth, or westbury-on-trym. but, while the holders of prebends in collegiate churches were not necessarily, and indeed were seldom, resident, the fellows or chaplains of chantry colleges were obliged to be always on the spot. nor were these chantries of more than one priest founded merely in parish churches. lords of manors founded chantries on their estates: there was a college of several chantry priests at the beauchamp castle of elmley in worcestershire, for example. sir robert umfraville, who founded in 1429 a chantry of a master and a chaplain in the chapel of his manor house at farnacres, near gateshead, strictly bound down the incumbents to their religious duties, forbidding them to carry on any temporal business as bailiffs or estate agents, on the ground that _dum colitur martha, expellitur maria_. § 17. the foundation of ordinary chantries more than kept pace with the foundation of chantry colleges. individual benefactors sought to secure their own salvation and that of their relations, by endowing an altar in their parish church. in parishes where services were few, the parishioners often clubbed together for the support of a stipendiary service, paid out of property of which they were feoffees. the chaplain whose services were thus secured would be of great use to the incumbent of a large parish, especially at seasons when there were many communicants, and many confessions had to be heard. also, in distant parts of large parishes, separated from the mother church by several miles, or by foul roads and flooded streams in winter, chantry priests were provided by individual or collective benefactions to serve the altars of parochial chapels. in the great parishes of west yorkshire, burnsall, aysgarth, or grinton, each including a vast tract of dale and fell, parochial chapels, subject to the mother church, had existed from a very early period. such chapels became more numerous as the middle ages advanced; and the famous chapel of south skirlaugh, between hull and hornsea, so often quoted as a perfect example of late gothic work, was one of these subordinate foundations. it may also be noted that two of the largest parish churches of the same neighbourhood, st augustine's at hedon and holy trinity at hull, were originally chapels to preston-in-holderness and hessle. at boughton in northants, owing to a shifting of the population, a chapel in the parish became the parish church. obviously, if the larger churches were to be properly served, they must depend in no small measure on the goodwill of the parishioners. § 18. in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries the parishioners came forward with benefactions as they never had done before. the rich wool stapler of grantham, newark, or boston, returned thanks for his wealth by founding a chantry in his church or one of its chapels. with the rise of the commercial class, the churches of east anglia were rebuilt and transformed. wealthy trade guilds at york, boston, shrewsbury, or coventry, maintained their own chaplains in the various parish churches. religious guilds or fraternities, composed both of men and women, obtained royal licence for incorporation, and established their chantries. such was the palmers' guild at ludlow, which received its first royal charter in 1284, and maintained a large body of chantry priests, incorporated as a college, in the parish church. these religious guilds existed for the purpose of mutual assistance and works of charity. the guilds of st mary and corpus christi in cambridge united together in one corporation, and founded corpus christi college in 1352. in 1392 the guild of st mary at stamford had licence to devote land to the maintenance of certain chantry priests in st mary's at the bridge. in the same year, two guilds at coventry were united under the name of the guild of the holy trinity, st mary, and st john the baptist, and founded a college of chaplains in st john's chapel at bablake. still in 1392, the guild of the holy cross at birmingham was founded, with its chaplains in st martin's; and the guilds of st mary and of jesus christ and the holy cross in the parish church of chesterfield. to 1393 belongs the foundation of the guild of the holy trinity at spalding, with a chaplain at the trinity altar in the parish church. in the reign of henry iv the refounded guild of st cross and st john the baptist at stratford-on-avon had licence to find two or more chaplains in their parish church (1403); the guild of st thomas of canterbury, with one or two chaplains, was founded at long sutton in lincolnshire (1405). under henry vi may be mentioned the guild of st mary at louth, with more than one chaplain, founded in 1446-7; the licence to the guild of the holy trinity at nottingham, in the same year, to maintain two chaplains in st mary's church; the guild of st mary of crediton, with a chaplain at the altar of st peter, founded in 1448; the guilds of the holy trinity, with two chaplains, at chipping norton, and, with one or more chaplains, at louth (1450); and the guild of st mary, with two chaplains, at chipping sodbury in gloucestershire (1452). in 1460-1, the twelve chaplains, supported by seven guilds, in all saints, northampton, were formed into a college. in the time of edward iv the trade guilds became more active in establishing chantries; but the foundation of religious guilds went on with unabated zeal. a number were founded in the small market-towns of bedfordshire, buckinghamshire, and hertfordshire, with aid in more than one instance from the diocesan, thomas rotherham, then bishop of lincoln--the fraternity of the body of jesus christ at leighton buzzard (1473), the guilds of the holy trinity at luton (1474) and biggleswade (1474-5), a guild at hitchin (1475), and the guild of st mary and st thomas the martyr at stony stratford (1476). in 1480 was founded a guild at thaxted in essex, and in 1483-4 the fraternity of the holy cross at abingdon. § 19. the names of most of these guilds, which were joined by royal and noble personages, are connected with churches of great beauty and importance, which owe their final perfection in no small degree to the benefactions of the brethren and sisters of the guilds. the chapel of bablake, st john baptist's church at coventry, was a result of the incorporation of the guilds in 1392. the two guilds at louth and chesterfield left their mark on the churches in which they worshipped. the chancel, the aisles of the nave, the great porches, the west tower and spire, at thaxted, belong to the epoch, if they are not altogether the direct result, of the foundation of the guild. chantry chapels and guild chapels may exert their influence on the plan of the fabric, simply by providing it with a complete set of aisles. of this type of plan, we already have seen an example at beckingham. but these chapels often cause anomalies which are difficult to classify, and lead to some confusion of plan; and some instances of this character must now be given. in the first place, the chantry chapel is not confined to any definite part of the plan. in our cathedrals it is frequently an excrescence from an outer wall of the church, like the bishops' tomb chapels at lincoln or hereford, or it is a rectangular structure of stone, with elaborately traceried windows, cresting, and canopy work, like prince arthur's chapel at worcester, or the episcopal tombs at winchester, set up within an arch of the nave or quire. of these types we have examples in our parish churches: the first is illustrated, on a large scale, by hall's chapel at grantham; on a fair scale, by the chapels at long melford and berkeley; and, on a rather smaller scale, by the chapels, now destroyed, of two masters of peterhouse, on either side of little st mary's church at cambridge. all these have small doorways and arches for table tombs between the church and the chapel. the chapel east of the south porch at sherburn-in-elmet in yorkshire, has a tomb arch opening into the south aisle; but the entrance is in the east wall of the porch. many examples of the second type must have existed in the larger churches of england: at ludlow, for example, there were chantry chapels in the eastern arch of the south arcade, and in the two western arches of both arcades. we read of sir john pilkington's chantry, founded in 1475 at the altar of st mary in the 'south arch' of the parish church at wakefield: in 1478 the chantry of roger nowell was founded at the altar of st peter in the 'north arch.' there are stone chantry chapels in the north and south arches of the chancel at newark--the chantry chapel of thomas meyring (1500) on the north, and that of robert markham (1505) on the south. these chapels recall prior king's chapel at bath abbey, the warre chapel at boxgrove priory, and other small independent structures, like some of the tomb chapels which form a ring round the apse at tewkesbury. most of these chapels beneath arches were no doubt covered, like prior leishman's tomb at hexham, with wooden canopies, which have now disappeared. at burford in oxfordshire, however, there is, in the east arch of the north arcade, a small chapel with a wooden tester and upright posts: the sides are panelled up to a certain height. the whole structure has been well restored and is still used. § 20. some small chantry chapels form transeptal projections in unusual parts of the building: thus, at sherburn-in-elmet, st botolph's, cambridge, and kewstoke, somerset, such chapels project from the south wall of the nave next the porch. indeed, the variety in the position of chantry chapels often invests the churches of the west of england with a charm which is not always possessed by more regular buildings. churches like beverstone in gloucestershire, croscombe in somerset, and sherston magna in wiltshire, are full of little surprises for anyone to whom variations in plan appeal. perhaps the most attractive surprise of this kind is at long melford in suffolk. on the south side of the chancel, opening out of the martin chapel, is a vestry, which communicates with another building at right angles to it, behind the east wall of the chancel. from this building there is a doorway into the lady chapel, which thus stands detached from the body of the church. the chapel is a nearly square building, with three external gables: internally, there is a central square space, entirely surrounded by an aisle or ambulatory. at boston there is a chantry chapel, forming a short extra aisle, west of the south porch; while at witney, there is one west of the north porch. sometimes, the whole of an aisle of the nave, east of the main entrance of the church, was screened off as a chantry chapel. there are instances of this at croft in yorkshire, hungerton in leicestershire, and stratton strawless in norfolk. there are instances, again, in which, when a chantry chapel was placed at the end of an aisle, its separate character from the rest of the aisle was structurally defined. in shropshire, at alveley, cleobury mortimer, stottesdon, and one or two other places, one or more chantry chapels have been formed by widening the eastern part of the aisles in which the altars were placed. § 21. where chantry colleges have existed, the fact is by no means always obvious in the plan of the church. it is sometimes disclosed by the presence of stall-work of unusual richness in the chancel, as at higham ferrers; and sometimes, as in the same place, the altar in the main chancel may have been reserved for the services of the college, while another altar was provided for the ordinary parochial services. but it must be borne in mind that a chantry college was not a monastery. the church appropriated to the college was a parish church. although a chaplain might be specially deputed to look after parochial services, the master, rector, warden, provost, arch-priest, or whatever his title might be, was in the position of a resident incumbent. many splendid churches, now shorn of their chancels, recall the fact that the naves of monastic churches were frequently used for the services of the parish. this distinction doubtless extended to many chantry colleges, arundel and fotheringhay, for example. but the services of the college were not cut off, like the services of the monastery, from the outer world. the college of lowthorpe was founded specifically for the benefit of devout parishioners who, before its foundation, could not get all the masses they wanted. the result is that the plan of the chantry church, as it may be called, differed little from that of the ordinary parish church. sibthorpe and cotterstock are normal churches, with fine chancels: the altars at which each of the three chaplains of chaddesden, or the four of st michael penkivel, said his daily mass, are not confined to one part of the church, but are distributed throughout it. colleges at oxford and cambridge, which were originally colleges of clergy, were practically identical with chantry colleges, with the exception that their members were associated mainly for purposes of study and teaching. to many of them parish churches were appropriated, in which they held their services, and maintained their own parochial chaplain. st michael's at cambridge, appropriated to michaelhouse, was rebuilt in the early part of the fourteenth century. it has been little altered, and the division into collegiate quire and parochial nave is clearly marked. there was a similar division in little st mary's, belonging to peterhouse. in the fourteenth century the college began to rebuild the church on a large scale. the chancel was nearly completed, when the black death put a stop to the work. later, an extra western bay was added to the chancel; and the aisleless church thus formed was divided by a screen into a collegiate and a parochial half. in 1446 clare hall and trinity hall added aisles to the chancel of st edward's: these aisles were wider than the aisles of the nave, and also overlapped the nave by one bay. when jesus college entered into possession of the nunnery of st radegund, the priory church was shorn of the western end of the nave and of all its aisles. the college reserved the quire for its own services, while the parishioners of the old peculiar of the priory used the nave and transepts. the ante-chapel of merton college chapel at oxford was used till quite lately as the parish church of st john baptist. § 22. no better instance of the complicating influence of chantry chapels on the plan of a parish church could be given than the church of st john baptist at cirencester. the oldest part of the present building is the chancel with its south chapel, which contain twelfth and early thirteenth century work, but are in the main the fruit of a later thirteenth century reconstruction. the north chapel, known as st katharine's chapel, is a rather narrow aisle, communicating with the chancel by fourteenth century arches. north of this, again, there may have been a lady chapel on part of the site of the present one. towards the middle of the fifteenth century, the aisles of the nave were much widened, the width taken for the new north aisle being about twice the width of st katharine's chapel, and the new south aisle being rather wider than the south chapel of the chancel. the trinity chapel was formed by adding to the nave an extra north aisle, about half as long as the adjacent aisle, from which it is divided by a stone screen. there had been an earlier altar of the trinity in the church; for the licence granted to robert playn and others in 1382 to found a chantry of two chaplains in cirencester church placed one at the altar of the trinity, and the other at the altar of st mary. in 1392 another chantry was founded in the lady chapel. but, in its present state, the lady chapel seems to belong to the later part of the fifteenth century, when it was probably much broadened, so as to overlap the east wall of the trinity chapel. both it and st katharine's chapel open into the north aisle through four-centred arches: they open into one another by two arches pierced in the intermediate wall. between these arches has been left a thin piece of wall, in which rectangular slits, commanding the altar of the lady chapel, have been cut. the plan thus includes two chapels north of the chancel, and another north of the nave, as well as the south chapel of the chancel. the rebuilding of the nave, with its splendid south porch, its smaller north porch, and its western tower, was not completed until early in the sixteenth century. the jesus chapel was enclosed within screens at the south-east corner of the south aisle; and the roof of st katharine's chapel was heightened, and provided with fan vaulting. [illustration: fig. 2. plan of cirencester church.] § 23. the tendency of the chantry chapels at cirencester is to group themselves at the east end of the church, the trinity chapel forming an excrescence at the end of the north aisle which is nearest the chancel. at chesterfield the high altar, below the great east window, was flanked by the guild chapel of our lady on the south, and the chapel of st katharine on the north. the guild chapel of the holy cross was east of the north transept: an apsidal chapel east of the south transept contained the altar of st george; while there were two chantry altars against the screens in the arches of the south transept. the four chantry chapels added to scarborough church towards the end of the fourteenth century were built in a row at right angles to the south aisle, each with its own separate gable and pointed barrel vault. the chapel of st nicholas had been added to the church somewhat earlier, by the building of an extra north aisle; a chantry was founded at st nicholas' altar in 1390. we also meet at scarborough, great yarmouth, and other places, with charnel chapels. that at scarborough, dedicated to st mary magdalene, was probably a separate building in the graveyard. such external chapels were often built, although few remain to-day. henry of newark, archbishop of york 1298-9, founded about 1292, while he was dean of york, a chapel of st katharine and st martha in the churchyard of newark. some twenty years later, when the enlargement of the aisles of newark church was contemplated, archbishop grenefeld licensed the destruction of the chapel. its materials were used for the rebuilding of the south aisle, and the chantry was probably transferred to an altar in the new building. there was probably a charnel chapel at grantham, to the south-west of the church. § 24. but the most interesting case of an external chapel is the sylvester chapel at burford, which now forms a long arm stretching to the south-west of the main fabric. the church and chapel were originally separate. the church was, to begin with, an aisleless twelfth century structure, with a tower between nave and chancel. in the thirteenth century the chancel was produced to its present length, the north and south walls of the tower were pierced with arches, and transeptal chapels were added. a narrow south aisle was also added to the nave. about the same time a long aisleless chapel was built in the churchyard, some yards to the south-west of the church. in the fourteenth century a chapel was constructed, with a bone-crypt beneath it, west of the south transept, and was connected with the south aisle. there seems to have been no north aisle to the nave. east of the transepts were small chapels. the fifteenth century saw a great transformation. a sacristy was built north of the altar. aisles and a south porch of great beauty were built in harmony with a new nave arcade. the outer chapel, the axis of which was not parallel to that of the nave, was prolonged eastward to meet the south porch, and connected by an arcade with the south aisle. it was shortened at the west end, but still projects two bays beyond the main body of the church. the east chapel of the south transept was now taken away, and a south chancel chapel built, the east wall of which interfered with the thirteenth century sedilia of the chancel. the south wall of the chancel, opposite the sacristy, was allowed to stand clear of the new chapel. on the opposite side of the church, the north transept was shortened, until it was little longer than the breadth of the north aisle: its north wall was then continued eastwards and was returned to join the west wall of the sacristy. the north chapel of the chancel was thus formed. the whole progress of the plan is from a simple form of aisleless church to an aisled rectangle with central tower and spire; but the process is irregular, and the absorption of the outer chapel is an almost unique step. it will be noticed that the south aisle is entirely covered by a triple arrangement of buildings--first, st thomas' chapel next the south transept, then the south porch, and finally the sylvester chapel, which gives additional length to the church from this point of view. [illustration: fig. 3. plan of burford church.] § 25. other examples of churches in the wealthy market towns of the west of england might be given, in which, as at frome, chantry chapels grafted themselves upon the plan, with immense advantage to the picturesque effect. but there were few churches on which the foundation of chantries, and especially of chantries maintained by religious guilds, had such influence as on the great churches of coventry--st michael's, holy trinity, and st john's. licences for the foundations of chantries in st michael's bear date 1323 (two chaplains), 1344 (one chaplain in the chapel of st lawrence, augmented 1383, 1390), 1388 (one chaplain at the altar of all saints), 1411-2 (one chaplain at the altar of st katharine), and 1412 (two chaplains at the newly made altars of the holy trinity and st mary). in addition to these altars and the high altar there were altars of jesus, st john, st anne, st thomas, and st andrew. the chantries at these various altars became in time attached to the various trade guilds of the town, and the church, greatly enlarged and extended in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, contained several chapels, known by the names of the guilds. some details of the rebuilding have been touched upon already. the plan is curious; for the chancel ends in a semi-octagonal apse--a feature which also occurs in the late gothic chancels of westbury-on-trym and wrexham--surrounded by a row of vestries on a lower level. on the north of the chancel is the lady chapel, the altar of which was new in 1412-3, known later as the drapers' chapel. the south chapel of the chancel was the mercers' chapel, which probably contained the trinity altar. the eastern part of the north aisle was occupied by st lawrence's chapel. the outer north aisle was divided into two parts: east of the doorway was all saints' or the girdlers' chapel, while west of it was st andrew's or the smiths' chapel. two further chapels, st thomas' or the cappers' chapel, and the dyers' chapel, formed excrescences to east and west of the south porch. the beautiful cruciform church of the holy trinity became flanked in process of time by similar chapels. in the later part of the thirteenth century the north porch was joined to the transept by st thomas' chapel. at a later date a chapel, afterwards the consistory court, was built from the west wall of the north porch as far as the west wall of the north aisle. much later, in the sixteenth century, marler's or the mercers' chapel was continued from the east wall of the north transept along the north aisle of the quire, the north transept being thus practically absorbed in an outer north aisle. the lady chapel was at the end of the north aisle of the chancel, north of the altar: opposite it, on the south, was the trinity chapel. the south aisle of the chancel was the butchers' chapel: in the south transept was the corpus christi chapel, now destroyed; while at the west end of the south aisle of the nave was the tanners' chapel. [illustration: fig. 4. plan of st michael's, coventry. a. st andrew's chapel. b. girdlers' chapel. c. st lawrence's chapel. d. drapers' chapel. e. dyers' chapel. f. cappers' chapel. g. mercers' chapel.] [illustration: fig. 5. plan of holy trinity church, coventry. a. archdeacon's court. b. st thomas' chapel. c. marler's chapel. d. lady chapel. e. tanners' chapel. f. jesus chapel. g. corpus christi chapel. h. butchers' chapel. i. holy trinity chapel.] § 26. thus, by the gradual addition of chapel after chapel, the plan of these magnificent churches, some of the finest productions of english art, grew until, as at burford or holy trinity, coventry, it lost all likeness to its original state, and seems at first sight to be a collection of buildings heaped together without much method. it would be interesting to trace the growth of churches like st mary redcliffe or ludlow, as we have traced that of cirencester and burford. in these cases, it is impossible to give too much emphasis to the part played by lay benefactors in the development of the fabric. cirencester, burford, and the coventry churches, were appropriated to monasteries: st mary redcliffe was merely a chapel of bedminster, appropriated, like grantham, to a stall in salisbury cathedral. at cirencester and coventry the churches were close to the religious houses to which they belonged. but the growth of the churches was the result of lay devotion: the founders of chantries of whom we hear, like the famous william canynge at st mary redcliffe, were men who had made money in business. the part of the monasteries in church-building was never, so far as parish churches were concerned, very active. as the middle ages went on, their connexion with the fabrics became still slighter; and their interest in the church, apart from the profits which they received from it, and from an occasional litigation about the advowson, was probably confined to the periodical presentation of a vicar. the highest state of development which the parish church attained, in such buildings as have just been described, or in the great churches of norfolk and somerset, was the consequence of a long series of beautifications and improvements, in which at first, no doubt, the lay lords of manors took the leading part, but afterwards were joined by wealthy parishioners, who could find no more fitting employment for their wealth than the enlargement and decoration of the house of god. and it should not be forgotten that not merely the rich, but the poor, shared in this work of benefaction. in some places, at oswestry, for example, chantry priests were supported by the devotion of servants or husbandmen, each of whom paid his yearly share of the endowment. here and there in east anglia, inscriptions remaining on beautiful pieces of church furniture, bear witness to the generosity of members of the parish in humble positions. the churches of london, bristol, york, and norwich, and of countless towns and villages, are memorials of the brightest aspect of medieval religion--the spontaneous devotion which it excited, for motives often mingled with superstition, but never selfish or unworthy, in the most hard-headed and least emotional section, then as now, of english society. chapter iii the tower, the porch, and the chancel § 27. in another volume of this series, the development of the ground plan of the parish church has been treated with some detail. the importance of the central tower in connexion with the transeptal or cruciform plan has there been explained; and it has been seen that english builders generally preferred a tower at the west end of the nave. in the present chapter, something will be said of the development and use of the western tower, and of the closely related subject of the entrances to the church. the nave and its aisles demand, in this space, little more attention than can be given to them in the discussion of the ground plan and in what has been said already with regard to chantry chapels; and of their furniture more will be said in the next chapter. but some further consideration of the chancel, the enlargement of which forms so important a part of the history of the medieval plan, is necessary; and some account of its architectural and ritual development is given here, following the description of the tower and porch. [illustration: fig. 6. norton, co. durham: saxon central tower, with transept.] § 28. there is evidence that, in certain churches of unquestionably saxon origin, the western tower was formed, probably at a time considerably subsequent to their foundation, by the heightening of the western porch or main entrance to the church. brixworth and monkwearmouth are cases in point. at brixworth the original western doorway of the porch was blocked up when the stair-turret of the tower was built on that side. at monkwearmouth the line of the gabled roof of the porch is still visible. western towers, whether heightened or built from the ground, were certainly not common until, at any rate, the epoch of the danish wars. no existing church can be assigned positively to that epoch; and those who contend that the church tower then came into existence as a place of defence and refuge from the invaders probably argue from analogies of a later period. the thin walls and undefended ground-floor doorways of saxon towers forbid us to entertain this theory seriously. but it is certainly the case that these towers, primarily intended as bell-towers, were sometimes planned to afford more accommodation than was necessary for a man whose sole duty was to ring the bell. the ground-floor area of towers like earl's barton and barnack in northants, and hough-on-the-hill in lincolnshire, which, in their present state, may be assigned tentatively to the later part of the tenth century, takes its place in the history of the development of the plan; and, just as at barton-on-humber, the dimensions of the upper part of such towers were conditioned by the space allotted to the lowest stage. but there are indications that, in cases where the ground floor of the tower was simply the porch of the church, one or more of the upper stages had their special use. a doorway occasionally has been made in the east wall of the tower, above the arch leading into the nave. this may be explained by the fact that such towers were small in area, and that their angles contained no room for staircases. some access from the interior of the church to their upper stories was necessary, and would be easily provided by a ladder from the ground floor to the doorway on the first floor. the doorway is usually slightly on one side of the centre of the wall, so that the ladder would not interfere with the archway below. but the case is different, when, as at brixworth, a large circular turret has been built against the west wall of the tower, and from the first floor chamber there is a large triple window-opening looking out into the body of the church. at deerhurst, there is not only a doorway in the first floor of the tower; but, close by it, near the centre of the wall, there is a small window-opening or squint; while, on the second floor, there is a double window-opening of unusual form, and, on the third floor, another doorway in the centre of the wall, which seems to have opened into a wooden gallery. more than this, the lower part of the tower is partitioned by a transverse wall into an eastern and western porch and upper chamber. it is therefore indisputable that the tower at deerhurst was more than a bell-tower. deerhurst was an important monastery: the size and plan of the church were exceptional; and the upper floors of the tower may have been used for special purposes in connexion with the monastic services. one may hazard the suggestion that the room on the east side of the first floor was used by the monk whose turn it was to keep night-watch in the church: the spy-hole in the east wall seems to afford ground for this. it has been suggested that the second floor chamber--and, like it, the first floor chamber at brixworth--was used as an oratory by the lord of the manor and protector of the monastery; and this is possible, if the importance of the lord of the manor in connexion with early parish churches is taken into account. almery-like recesses in the wall are found in this chamber at deerhurst: such recesses, where they are found by themselves, as in the tower of skipwith in yorkshire, suggest little and prove nothing, and at deerhurst no positive reason for their use can be given. in some medieval churches there are traces of altars on the upper floors of towers; and it is possible that such altars may have existed at deerhurst and brixworth, and the windows pierced in the wall behind them may have been given special decorative treatment. the western stair-turret at brixworth was probably constructed for the sake of the important first floor chamber. three other examples of a circular stair-turret projecting from the western face of a tower are found, one in northamptonshire, two in lincolnshire; but in none of these are there any indications of a particular use for the first floor of the tower. the only example of a spiral stair or vice built in an angle of a pre-conquest tower is at great hale in lincolnshire, and is a rude piece of work. until the introduction of buttresses, the newel stair in the angle of the tower was uncommon. a ladder from the floor of the tower served for access to the upper stages. in rare instances, as at kirkburn in the east riding of yorkshire, a stone stair was built against the inner walls of the tower as far as the level of the first floor. where angle-staircases have been added to early norman towers, as at tansor in northants or in the central tower at coln st denis in gloucestershire, the abutments have been seriously weakened. § 29. in the eleventh century, the western bell-tower, the ground floor of which served as the main porch of the church, became common. the tower of the so-called 'lincolnshire' type, with its stages separated by off-sets, and its double belfry window openings divided by a 'mid-wall' shaft, is found not infrequently in other parts of england, and survived, with some change in proportion and detail, for some time after the norman conquest. some sixty western towers of the ordinary late saxon type remain in england, exclusive of heightened porches, and of a few round towers in the eastern counties, where the absence of stone suitable for quoins made this shape desirable. it is probable that portions of many more exist beneath later additions. we have seen that in the tower at branston, built more than a quarter of a century at earliest after the conquest, the old type was retained--the slender tower, lofty in proportion to its area. the tower of weaverthorpe in the east riding of yorkshire, obviously norman in its details, keeps the old proportions. many towers, on the contrary, which, at first sight, might be associated with the saxon group, shew norman influence in the thickness of their walls and stoutness of their proportions. while the normal thickness of wall in the late saxon towers of lincolnshire is about three and a half feet, the thickness at caistor is increased to nearly six feet. the normal area is from ten to twelve feet square: the area at caistor is 15½ feet east to west by 17½ north to south. the normal width of the arch between tower and nave is about 5¾ feet: at caistor it is nearly four feet more. at tugby, between leicester and uppingham, there is a remarkable tower, built in a primitive fashion which shews distinct traces of saxon kinship, but with proportions and with the introduction of detail which as clearly bear witness to its post-conquest date. hooton pagnell, near doncaster, has a large western tower which follows the saxon tradition of the simple rubble tower with small stone quoins and without buttresses; but the character of the arch leading into the nave is distinctly norman, and the tower is not merely of unusually large area, but is the full breadth of the spacious nave beyond it. while the western tower increases in area, it does not at first acquire buttresses at the angles: these, in their flat pilaster-like form, begin to appear in the course of the twelfth century. [illustration: fig. 7. carlton-in-lindrick, notts.: west tower, of late saxon type, with later additions.] § 30. the magnificent architectural development of the tower and spire, in which, as in perhaps no other part of the church, the individual characteristics of local schools of masoncraft can be traced, becomes noticeable in the thirteenth century, at a time when the use of the ground floor of the tower as the principal porch of the church had been discontinued. in the fen country round wisbech and spalding, a series of thirteenth century towers, covering the period from 1200 to 1280, bears witness to the work of a school of tower builders, hardly less distinguished than the great somerset masons of later days, which probably derived its inspiration from the arcaded western tower of ely cathedral. elm, leverington, walsoken, west walton, tilney all saints, long sutton, gedney, and whaplode, are the principal evidence of their work. not all these towers are western, and four of the number, including gedney, the belfry stage of which belongs to a later date, are without the spires which their builders doubtless intended; but all are instances of the treatment of the bell-tower as an independent architectural composition, quite irrespective of its part in the plan of the church. in the twelfth century, however, when the side doorway was superseding the tower porch, the western tower was by no means so handsome or invariable a feature as it became in later days. many smaller churches were content with a bell-cot over the western gable. there are several excellent examples of stone bell-cots in rutland. in essex and other districts where good building timber was easily procured, it is not uncommon to find square towers of timber, with conical caps or even spires, above the western gable, often supported on an elaborate framework within the west end of the church. a few timber towers, like margaretting in essex, are built up against the old west end of the church. § 31. there can be no doubt that, in the earlier part of the middle ages, while the high pitched roof prevailed in the main body of the building, the spire was considered the proper termination of a tower. its chief development naturally took place in districts where good roofing stone was plentiful; and the finest english spires, with a few exceptions, are to be found in south lincolnshire, northamptonshire, leicestershire, and rutland. in less favoured districts, timber spires, covered with lead or shingles, were placed upon towers. many of these remain in surrey and sussex. the spire may be regarded as the natural development of the conical roofs with which the towers of the eleventh and early twelfth centuries were usually crowned--an invaluable, if exceptional, example of which remains at sompting, near worthing. these must generally have been of wood with leaden coverings. the earliest general development of the stone spire is probably to be traced to south lincolnshire, where the low broach spires of sleaford, rauceby, frampton, and a few other churches, appear to belong to the last years of the twelfth, or earliest years of the thirteenth century. the spire continued to be fashionable in this and the neighbouring districts, long after it had become unusual in other parts of england. grantham spire exercised an enduring influence upon its neighbourhood. it was the model upon which the builders of the spire of oakham endeavoured to improve, with less striving after height and more coherence of design. from oakham was closely derived the tower of exton in rutland, where the builders raised their spire upon an octagonal base. the octagon at exton was probably the parent of those octagons which, rising on the summit of towers, reach their climax in the lantern at boston, and in the octagonal frame which surrounds the lower part of the spire at patrington. other details at exton bore fruit in the spires of oundle and kettering. at the very end of the middle ages, the feeling for the spire in lincolnshire was still so strong that the tower of louth was designed for a spire in the middle of the fifteenth century, and the spire itself was brought to completion in 1515. § 32. while, in the districts to which allusion has just been made, towers were designed, as a rule, with a view to the spires which were to cover them, the tower, in other parts of england, was designed simply as a tower, and the spire was regarded merely as a roof for it. in the chalk country north of the thames, towers are often found crowned by small timber spirelets with a leaden covering, which are merely insignificant additions. towards the middle of the fourteenth century, an important development in the elevation of the main fabric led to a general disuse of the spire, especially in districts where stone spires had formed no part of architectural design. clerestories with broad windows were built above the arcades of the nave. with this increase of height the old high pitched roofs were abandoned in favour of roofs of a flatter pitch. very often, this was due to the rotting of the old roof-timber at the ends next the wall-plates. these ends were sawn off, and the roof re-laid at a lower pitch. at the same time, the clerestory dwarfed the western tower. at oadby, near leicester, where there is a beautiful tower and spire, designed in perfect harmony with a fourteenth century nave, the fifteenth century clerestory actually raises the height of the nave to that of the tower, with incongruous effect. during the fifteenth century, therefore, it is common to find that towers were rebuilt, or an upper story was added to them, in proportion to the increase of height in the nave. thus, at immingham in north lincolnshire, the clerestory and upper part of the tower are of one date, and were built as part of one connected work. the roof of the clerestory being, in most cases, nearly flat, the roof of the tower followed suit; and although, where traditions of spire design had a hardy existence, spires were still built, towers without spires, surmounted by parapets like the parapets which hid the roof of the clerestories, became the order of the day. in certain parts of england, and especially in somerset, where the art of designing towers was pursued with extraordinary success, towers were rebuilt from the ground. but the proportion of towers, with or without spires, which have been heightened to meet the requirements of a clerestory, is probably in excess of the proportion of towers entirely rebuilt. in the case of heightened towers, the pitch of the older roof of the nave can generally be made out by the retention of its housing slot or weather course in the east wall of the tower. at gedney, in south lincolnshire, where the lower part of the tower is of the thirteenth century, the line of the contemporary roof may be traced above the tower arch. above this is another line, marking the pitch of a new roof, made when the arcades were rebuilt in the fourteenth century. the clerestory and the upper story of the tower belong to the fifteenth century. in many instances, however, the flattening of the roof has followed the rebuilding of the tower; and in these the old weather course will be found on the east face of the tower, above the present roof, as in the south aisle at st mary's, leicester. here the roof was probably flattened in the fifteenth century, when the tower and spire were completed. [illustration: fig. 8. tickhill, yorkshire: general view from s.e., showing clerestory, western tower and projecting eastern chapel.] § 33. west doorways are frequently found in towers; and often, as at grantham and newark, they are of some importance in the design. they are a general feature of the larger towers, although sometimes, as at st michael's, coventry, where the nave has a west porch north of the tower, they are insignificant, and were probably intended to be little more than a convenient entrance for building materials. in northamptonshire, some of the towers of the churches of the nene valley have doorways covered by shallow porches. the beautiful porch at higham ferrers and that at raunds are the earliest: later porches occur at oundle, rushden, and keyston, the last place being just across the border of huntingdonshire. these western doorways were sometimes used as principal entrances to the church, and were provided with holy-water stoups. but habitually they were kept closed, and used only on special occasions for ritual purposes, as in the palm sunday procession, when the clergy and choir entered the church by the west door. such entrances would be a natural feature of large churches, like kettering, and are found in the west walls of churches like stratford-on-avon, st mary redcliffe's at bristol, or ketton in rutland, where the tower is central or in a situation not at the west end of the nave. where the west doorway is covered by a projecting porch, as mentioned above, the design possibly recalls the western porches or galilees, found in some of our larger churches, and on an imposing scale, in certain districts of france. the word galilee arises from the fact that the west porch was the last stage in the sunday procession, and the celebrant, entering it first, symbolised our lord preceding his disciples into galilee after the resurrection, of which sunday was the festival. a regular western building of the galilee type is a somewhat rare feature in an english parish church; but there is one at melton mowbray, and at snettisham in norfolk there is an open porch, projecting beyond the west wall of the church. in both cases the church has a central tower. at king's sutton in northamptonshire, there is a vaulted porch in front of the western tower. § 34. it has been said that there are churches of the twelfth century in which the tower was omitted, and a bell-cot above the western gable took its place. quenington in gloucestershire, and barton-le-street in the north riding of yorkshire, are good examples. in both cases, a north as well as a south doorway were provided to the aisleless nave, although, at barton-le-street, this circumstance has been obscured by a modern restoration. in neither case was there a western door; and in both the north doorway, which stands on the side nearest the village, has probably been always the main entrance. the reason of the two doorways may have been the exigencies of processions, in which the litany was sung, and the altars of the church sprinkled with holy water. such processions took place, at any rate in the greater churches, every sunday, and in monastic churches were partly external, to include the buildings of the cloister. in smaller churches, however, external processions would be of rare occurrence, and two doorways would hardly be provided for this reason alone. as a rule, the ordinary entrance would lie on the side of the church nearest the approach from the village, which was generally on the south. but this is not invariable; and the favourite entrance, even where a village lay to the north of the church, was on the south side. there are sometimes signs that one of the doorways may have been appropriated traditionally to the use of the tenants of one of the manors in a parish, or to the parishioners of a chapelry who were bound to attend the mother church on certain feasts in the year. thus at barton-le-street, the south doorway, lying on the side of the church towards the hamlet of coneysthorpe, is called the coneysthorpe doorway. at easingwold, in yorkshire, the north doorway is called the raskelf door, and was doubtless used by the inhabitants of the chapelry of raskelf on these special occasions. at hungerton, near leicester, the tenants of each of the four manors in the parish still occupy their own quarter of the nave; and at churchdown, near gloucester, the names of the various chapelries of the medieval parish are still applied to divisions of the churchyard. in cases like this, the doorway nearest to the part of the church appropriated to one or more of these separate bodies of parishioners would naturally be used as well as the main doorway. § 35. in its simplest form, the porch is simply a protection to the doorway which it covers. the timber porches, often beautiful works of art, which are common in essex and other timber-growing parts of england and wales, can hardly have served any very practical use, although, like stone porches, they have side-benches, on which worshippers could rest. but, from the days when the south porch of canterbury cathedral was resorted to by litigants from every part of the kingdom, the church porch was a common place for the transaction of much secular business. hence, no doubt, it became a permanent stone structure, usually roofed with wood, but sometimes vaulted, as at barnack, or covered, as in some of the churches round doncaster, by a high pitched roof of stone slabs. in many later medieval churches, the size of the porch increased, and it was vaulted with elaborate ribbed ceilings, or, as at lavenham in suffolk, with fan vaulting. there may sometimes have been, as there was at canterbury and possibly at bradford on avon, an altar in the porch. at south pool in devon, the bench which runs along the east wall is raised in the middle, and forms an altar table. a broad south aisle was built in the fifteenth century, but was stopped at the east wall of the porch. a small window, now filled in, directly above the altar, commanded a view of the aisle and the south altar of the chancel from the porch, and was closed on the side of the aisle by an iron grille. such altars, however, must have been very rare. one may suggest that the altar at south pool contained relics, on which oaths were taken by those who came to the porch to settle business or disputes which might be terminated by mutual agreement, without being brought before the regular courts. [illustration: fig. 9. st mary's, beverley: south porch.] § 36. from the fourteenth century onwards, porches with an upper story became common, and it is certain that much miscellaneous business may have been transacted in the chamber on the upper floor. this chamber, so frequently called a 'priest's room,' was used for several purposes. it was sometimes a chapel of the church. the north porch at grantham was either rebuilt or extended northward in the fourteenth century: the lower story was vaulted, and the long upper chamber became the chapel in which the principal relics belonging to the church were preserved. stairways were provided in each of the outer corner-turrets, one for those ascending to venerate the relics, the other for those descending, so that a free circulation was assured for devotees who visited the chapel on feast days. in addition, a window was made in the wall above the north door, through which the relics could be exhibited to worshippers inside the church. the vaulting was broken down at a later period, and the two stages combined into one. the south porch also has an upper chamber, which in later days, like so many similar chambers, contained the library of the church. it was probably appropriated to the church-watcher, sometimes the deacon attached to the church, who slept there, and, from a small inner window which projects slightly from the wall, could gain a view of most of the interior of the building. in such a case the watcher's room would probably also be used as the treasury of the church. the magnificent south porch at cirencester, in three stages, has fan vaulting in the ground story: the upper rooms were used by the trade guilds of the town, and still form the guildhall. the close connexion of the guilds with the religious life of the place made the church their natural meeting-place; and their annual meetings were very generally held in the chapels where they maintained services in their parish church. the porch at cirencester is called the vice, a corruption of the word parvise (the latin _parvisus_ = _paradisus_) which is commonly, though inaccurately, applied to these storied porches. among the splendid storied porches of the later middle ages may be mentioned those at thaxted in essex, beccles in suffolk, and sall in norfolk. the upper story of one of the porches at sall contains a piscina, and was probably a chapel. [illustration: fig. 10. cirencester: south porch.] § 37. it has been noted that there was occasionally an altar on the first floor of a tower. one still remains in place at st michael penkivel, near truro, where the church was appropriated to a college of four chantry priests, and was rebuilt early in the fourteenth century. certain indications have lately been found of another at tansor, near oundle: the conversion of this tower chamber into a chapel explains the otherwise pointless addition of a stair at the south-east angle of the tower, which seriously weakened the fabric. while the term 'priest's chamber,' as applied to the room over the porch, is by no means accurate, it is probable that such a room may sometimes have been used by a chantry priest, or as has been said, by the deacon who occasionally assisted the incumbent of a church. the most curious instance of a habitation in connexion with a church is at terrington st john's, in the norfolk marshland, where the tower stands at some distance west of the south aisle, and is connected with it by a two-storied building, divided into chambers. there seems little reason to doubt that this dark and uncomfortable, but moderately roomy structure, with the first floor of the adjoining tower, was occupied by the curate who served the church. it is well, however, to look askance on the usual traditions which have led, for example, to the confident statement that the porch chambers at grantham were the vicarages of the two rectorial portions of the church. statements, also, with regard to the defensive use of church towers must carefully be guarded against, with the proviso that, in certain districts, there are indications that such an use was made of them. in some of the churches of north-west yorkshire, from the end of the twelfth century onwards, towers were built with a strength which indicates that they might become strongholds in time of warfare; and there is positive evidence that the tower of bedale church, in a district much exposed to the inroads of scottish invaders, was intended to receive on occasion a body of defenders. the same thing is true of fortified towers, like that at newton nottage, on the coast of south wales. in towers, again, like those of llywel and llanfihangel-cwm-du in breconshire, and llanfair-ar-y-bryn in carmarthenshire, the external construction speaks clearly of the uses to which such towers might be put in time of war, while the strong barrel vaults of the ground floors, the ample planning of the turret stairs, and the presence in one case, till recent times, of a fire-place on the first floor, are further indications which support the idea. § 38. it should not be forgotten that a porch was occasionally used as the foundation of a tower. there is a good example of a northern porch tower at cromhall in gloucestershire and of a southern porch tower at norbury in derbyshire; but the finest instance is probably the south tower and spire of donington in south lincolnshire. the south tower at fowey in cornwall is another striking example. it was merely custom and tradition which made the west tower a nearly invariable feature in most districts of england during the greater part of the middle ages. it is obvious that the position of the tower in the plan is elastic, and we find it, not merely over the crossing of the transepts, or over a side porch, or at the extremity of a transept, or as an upward extension of a transeptal chapel, but also in a position detached from the church. the beautiful tower of west walton in norfolk is at the entrance to the churchyard, its ground story forming the gateway. in examples like this--fleet and tydd st giles, in the same neighbourhood, stand apart in their churchyards--the insecure nature of the soil probably made the building of a bell-tower in direct attachment to the church unsafe, and therefore undesirable. § 39. the norman chancel in england was rectangular in the majority of cases. it was also narrower than the nave, from which it was divided by an arch. such arches are almost invariably, until the middle of the twelfth century, round-headed, and are usually low in elevation. their character and width, however, vary greatly. at north witham the archway is low and narrow, and the arch is unmoulded; decoration is confined to the impost-blocks from which it springs. a wide space of wall is left on either side of the opening. when in the thirteenth century the chancel was enlarged, these spaces were pierced with wide pointed openings, presumably in order to give a better view of the altar from the body of the church. in north yorkshire there are a large number of similar chancel arches, the narrowness and plainness of which have sometimes induced antiquaries to class them as saxon. saxon in affinity they may well be; but at scawton on the hambleton hills, where one of them occurs, and the wall on either side is pierced with late norman openings, we know that the church was built in 1146. at bracebridge, near lincoln, where there is a fairly lofty and narrow chancel arch of early character and uncertain date, there are openings, apparently later than the rest of the work, at the sides. these openings are not carried down to the ground in any of the cases mentioned; and there were probably altars against the wall below them, as was certainly the case at castle rising in norfolk, and avening in gloucestershire, where towers occur between nave and chancel. were such openings invariable, or were they even contemporary with the chancel arch, we might see in them a survival of the triple-arched screen wall of early saxon times. but they are quite exceptional; and at north witham both, and at castle rising one, are much later than the chancel arch. more frequently the chancel arch is given elaborate architectural treatment, with moulded orders and jamb-shafts, and occupies most of the width, and practically the whole height of the chancel behind. early saxon chancel arches were very narrow, as is the case at escomb and bradford on avon--so narrow as to shut off the chancel from the nave. this may have been a survival of the primitive practice which kept, by means of curtains drawn round the canopy of the altar, the consecration of the sacred elements in the eucharist from the public eye. all through the middle ages, it was customary during lent to hang a curtain or lenten veil across the chancel arch; and in many english churches hooks for its support may still be seen. a narrow chancel arch would be much more serviceable for this purpose than a wide one; and its persistent continuance through the twelfth century may perhaps be attributed to this usage. § 40. while, in the enlargement of a church, the nave was usually widened by the addition of aisles, the chancel was in most cases lengthened, and was often rebuilt entirely, in order to provide more room for the stalls of the quire. thus, at sandiacre in derbyshire, the twelfth century nave and chancel arch were left untouched, but a splendid chancel was built in place of the old one during the fourteenth century. the screen which divided chancel from nave is gone; but nowhere can we appreciate better the practical separation between the parishioners' portion of the church, and that devoted to the clergy and quire, which, in churches like this, became almost as marked as in the monastic and larger collegiate churches. the lengthened chancel, forming a deep aisleless projection to the east of the building, was often treated with great architectural dignity. nothing could be more beautiful, from their very simplicity of design, than the chancels of mitford in northumberland, or burgh-next-aylsham in norfolk, with their row of lancet windows in the side walls, and the marked projection of their string-courses and buttresses. later in the thirteenth century, the chancel of houghton-le-spring church, near durham, gives us another example from the north of england of spacious planning, with light admitted through a row of splayed lancets. the chancel of the collegiate church of st andrew, bishop auckland, enlarged about 1250 or rather later, underwent further alteration not long after, by the substitution of broader two-light openings for the narrower lancets, and of a large mullioned east window for a group of lancets at the east end. in yorkshire, the chancel of west heslerton, a simple aisleless church, was lengthened and lightened by a row of lancets not unlike those at houghton-le-spring. further south, the nobility which long lancet windows in bays divided by projecting buttresses, and marked by the strong horizontal lines of string-courses, can give to an architectural composition, is shewn by the chancel of the cruciform church of hedon, near hull. less elaborate, but even more striking by virtue of the height, narrowness, and wide internal splay of the lancet openings, is the chancel of bottesford in north lincolnshire. cherry hinton, near cambridge, possibly reaches the high water mark of chancel building which depends for its effect on the arrangement of lancet windows. acton burnell in shropshire, recalls cherry hinton in the piercing of its side walls by rows of lancets, with trefoiled rere-arches; but its east window is a composition of four lights, with geometrical tracery, and marks the transition to an even more imposing type of chancel, in which the side walls are pierced with large traceried windows, and the outside and inside of the building alike are marked by architectural treatment of great beauty, and even splendour. some of the earliest of these fourteenth century chancels may be found in the east of england. great sampford in essex stands on the border-line between the two centuries. dennington in suffolk, a chancel of unequalled beauty, comes within the first quarter of the fourteenth century. somewhat later is stebbing in essex, and a little later still is great bardfield. in both of these churches, close to one another, nave and chancel alike were rebuilt, and the arch between them filled with a screen of open tracery in stone. the chancel of lawford, near colchester, followed about the middle of the fourteenth century: its chief feature is the licence given to the curvilinear tracery of its windows. impulse may have been given to this outbreak of energy in the east of england by the great building works undertaken at old st paul's during the latter part of the thirteenth century: all the examples cited, with the exception of dennington, are within the bounds of the ancient diocese of london. further examples which give colour to this view might be cited, such as the chancel which the cistercians of tilty, near dunmow, added to their church, as the beginning of a complete rebuilding, about the beginning of the fourteenth century. § 41. but even more conspicuous than these are the chancels which are found with some frequency in the ancient and widespread dioceses of york, lincoln, and lichfield. the chief features of these are, traceried windows of great beauty of proportion and variety of design, with carefully moulded arches and jambs, boldly projecting buttresses with gables or pinnacles, strings and base courses carried right round the building, often with much elaboration. the internal furniture includes stone piscinae and sedilia, canopied niches on each side of the east window, founders' tombs, and, in some cases, stone easter sepulchres in the north wall. in almost every case, the masonry is composed of large dressed stones; and the building capacity of the masons reaches a high level of architectural skill. the probable source of the development of masonry and sculpture shewn in these structures is to be found in the architectural work which was going on at york during the last quarter of the thirteenth and first quarter of the fourteenth century. it can be shewn that the york school of masoncraft had some influence at lincoln. its influence at southwell, the southern _matrix ecclesia_ of the diocese of york, is undoubted. that it had some influence as far south as the lady chapel of ely, begun in 1321, is very probable; and the work done there may have reacted in a northward direction. its influence at lichfield, during the episcopate of walter langton (1296-1321), is more than probable, as langton was intimately connected with york from his early years till his death. in yorkshire, the rebuilding of the cruciform church at patrington was completed, with the chancel, towards 1350. earlier than this, probably between 1320 and 1330, the chancels of patrick brompton, kirkby wiske, and ainderby steeple had been built: croft, near darlington, and romaldkirk in teesdale, belong to much the same period and sphere of influence. round southwell and lincoln, and probably during the same decade, the greatest triumphs of the period were achieved. the founder of the chancel of hawton, near newark, died in 1330. the rector who was the founder of the chancel of heckington, near sleaford, was presented by the crown in 1308-9, and had licence to found a chantry in the church, probably at the high altar of the rebuilt chancel, in 1328. the chancel of navenby, near lincoln, belongs to the same period. at sibthorpe, near newark, a college of chantry priests was founded by stages during the first half of the fourteenth century, and the present chancel seems to have been built about 1330: the founder, as already noted, rebuilt the aisles of his church at beckingham, a few miles away, before 1347. the architectural likeness between his work at beckingham and the chancel of boothby pagnell, near grantham, built about 1350, cannot be mistaken. the whole church of fledborough, north of newark, was rebuilt, probably about 1343, when a chantry was founded in the lady chapel. [illustration: fig. 11. patrington, yorkshire: north side of chancel and vestry.] other nottinghamshire chancels, the probable date of which is 1330-40, are arnold (much rebuilt), car colston, and woodborough. a certain number of chancels in leicestershire, such as that of east langton, approximate to the type, without actually reproducing it; but at cotterstock, in northamptonshire, where john giffard, canon of york, founded a college of chantry priests in 1337, its familiar features reappear. it reached the diocese of lichfield--or, at any rate, derbyshire--rather later than the period of its general diffusion in the dioceses of york and lincoln. the chancel of sandiacre belongs to the decade between 1330 and 1340: dronfield, which, in proportions and parapet and pinnacle-work, is closely akin to sandiacre, is later than 1340; norbury and the handsome chancel of tideswell are later still, probably 1350-60. the chantry college of chaddesden, founded in 1355, adds another church, with a smaller and less ambitious chancel, to the group. in the north-western part of lichfield diocese, the fine vaulted chancel of the collegiate church of nantwich (1327-33) is probably independent of the general type. there can be no mistake, however, about halsall in south lancashire. here the date, although the later window tracery seems to contradict it, appears to be at latest 1340-50; and the likeness of the internal arrangements to those of the north yorkshire churches is quite remarkable. in a few instances, the type persisted till much later. the chancel at claypole, near newark, was rebuilt about 1400: the fourteenth century nave has a noticeable affinity, in the sculpture of its capitals, to the nave of patrington. between 1380 and 1400, the chancel of burneston, in north yorkshire, shews distinct traces of the influence of patrick brompton and the other neighbouring buildings already mentioned. burneston, patrick brompton, and croft, were all connected with st mary's abbey at york. the convent, as rector of burneston, may have been responsible for the chancel, when the whole church was rebuilt. but it must be repeated that the spread of architecture in parish churches is due to local piety rather than to the desire of religious houses to found churches in places from which they derived their income. the founder of the chancel of heckington was not the impropriating abbey of bardney, but a well-to-do king's clerk, who was presented to the vicarage by edward ii during a voidance of the abbey. further, the spread of this particular type of chancel cannot be referred to st mary's abbey or any other monastery, but to the growth of a school of lay masoncraft which learned its earliest lessons among the new buildings of st mary's abbey and york minster. as we should expect in a period which was so fruitful in good work, isolated types of almost equal beauty, the result of original local skill, constantly make their appearance. such are the chancels of north luffenham in rutland, or of hodgeston in pembrokeshire--the latter, no doubt, one of the fruits of that movement in the diocese of st david's, to which bishop henry gower (1328-47) gave a powerful impulse. § 42. the aisleless chancel survived as a favourite feature of the plan all through the middle ages. the aisled nave, with the deep aisleless chancel beyond, is beautiful in plan and elevation alike; and hardly any of the great norfolk churches is so satisfactory in effect as the fourteenth century church at tunstead, or the great fifteenth century church of walpole st peter, where the rebuilding of the chancel followed that of the nave. the wealthy lay folk of east anglia naturally took charge of the repair of the nave as their own part of the church. the rectors, monastic or otherwise, were less active about the chancel. the result is that the uniform magnificence of walpole st peter is by no means found everywhere. the small vaulted thirteenth century chancel at blakeney in north-east norfolk, is quite out of proportion to the large fifteenth century nave and west tower. the magnificent church of sall, near aylsham, was entirely rebuilt in the fifteenth century; but the proportions of the chancel are very modest compared with the gigantic nave. lavenham in suffolk has one of the most ornate naves of the later part of the fifteenth century, and a tower of great height. the fourteenth century chancel, however, was kept, and, although chapels were added to it on the north and south, the eastern bay is insignificant in proportion and rough in masonry when contrasted with the nave. a similar disparity, not of style but of design, exists between the nave and tower of stoke-by-nayland and the less carefully rebuilt chancel. the rebuilding of a chancel may occasionally indicate that monastic impropriators neglected their duties, until they were compelled to repair. the hastily rebuilt chancel at harringworth in northamptonshire, where elstow abbey was rector, is in striking contrast to the earlier nave, and may perhaps be explained in this way. croyland abbey had to attend to its duties at wellingborough in 1383, and the present aisled chancel is the result. at walpole st peter the church was evidently lengthened eastwards. the parishioners were probably allowed to pull down the old chancel when they built their new nave, and to encroach on its site: they naturally would contribute towards the new chancel, and this may account for the unusual splendour of the whole design. [illustration: fig. 12. walpole st peter: from n.e.] § 43. medieval sacristies attached to chancels, and especially to aisleless chancels, are common, and are in most cases on the north side, with a door in the north wall close to the altar. good examples of an ordinary kind are at islip and aldwinkle st peter in northants. there is a fourteenth century sacristy at willingham, near cambridge, with a vaulted ceiling. the vaulted vestry at burford is of the fifteenth century. sometimes the sacristy contained an altar, as at claypole and westborough, between newark and grantham; and it is probable that the sacristies of several of the beautiful chancels already alluded to, as at hawton, had their altars, which might be used occasionally for mass, but would in any case be useful for laying out and folding up vestments before and after service. the sacristy at heckington is of two stories, the lower probably intended to be a bone-hole. at halsall there is a handsome doorway, west of the founder's tomb, through which a chantry chapel is entered: this may have been a sacristy in the first instance. large sacristies of two, and even three stories are found. the upper room or solar, as at raunds in northants, wath, near ripon, and other places, was sometimes provided with a window opening into the chancel, and may have served, like the solar of the south porch at grantham, as the treasury of the church and a room for the deacon or church watcher. but that these upper rooms may have been provided as extra chantry chapels is also probable. the very interesting vestry building between peterhouse and its appropriated church of little st mary's at cambridge seems to have contained the chantry chapel of john warkworth, master of peterhouse, on its upper floor: there is also a piscina in the small lower sacristy, which stands above a bone-hole. the originally very similar building between st benet's church and corpus appears to have had chantry chapels on both floors. perhaps the best example of a two-storied sacristy is the semi-octagonal building, vaulted on both floors, at the east end of the north chancel aisle at long sutton, lincolnshire. this is an exceptional situation; but there was no fixed place for the sacristy. often, as at darlington or as the vaulted vestry at rushton, northants, it is on the south side of the chancel. in certain places, as at st peter mancroft in norwich, and lavenham in suffolk, it projects from the east wall of the church, below the east window, and is entered by a doorway at one or both sides of the altar. sometimes, again, as at sawley and tideswell in derbyshire, the altar was brought forward from the east wall, and provided with a stone screen wall or reredos, the space between which and the east wall became the sacristy. a similar screening off of the east end of an aisle is found, for example, at rushden and higham ferrers in northants: in these cases, it has been effected without interfering, as at tansor, with the proper spacing of the aisle. § 44. three features which are specially noticeable in the planning of the aisleless chancel may be mentioned here. the first is the very usual provision of squints, or oblique piercings, through the backs of the responds of the chancel arch. one object of these was to enable the priest, celebrating at the aisle altar, to see what was going on at the high altar, if his mass happened to coincide with or overlap another service. they would also be of use to the ringer of the sanctus bell, when the bell-cote was above the chancel arch, and the rope hung down at the side, out of sight of the altar. the second point is the occurrence of a separate door, for the use of the priest, in the south wall of the chancel: this was provided in a very large number of cases, and, though usually small, was often treated with some architectural dignity. at trunch in norfolk it is covered by a small porch. the third point, which has been the cause of much controversy, is the presence of a window, usually in the south wall of the chancel, and near its west end, the level of which is generally just above the back of the chancel stalls. this is known as a 'low side' window. these windows are not confined to chancels, nor to one side of the chancel only: sometimes, as at acaster malbis, near york, and burton lazars in leicestershire, they are on both sides of the chancel; here and there, as at gretton, northants, on the north side only. their design also varies. not infrequently separate windows, they are formed quite as often by lowering the sill of a single-light or two-light window, and cutting off the lower from the upper part by a transom or cross mullion. where this arrangement was adopted, the upper part of the window was glazed, but the lower portion seems generally to have been closed by shutters. many fanciful explanations, which have little foundation in common sense, have been given for the use of these windows. most popular has been the idea that they were used by lepers, who could not take part in the common services of the church, but could assist at mass and even be communicated through these windows. this fancy disregards the sanitary precautions of the middle ages, which were excellent and plentiful. we may well believe that the people of burton lazars would have been horrified, if they had seen, one sunday morning at mass, their two low side windows darkened by sufferers from the dreadful disease, for whom a hospital with its chapel was carefully provided in their own village. a very widely accepted theory is that low side windows were used in connexion with the consecration of the elements at mass: a small hand-bell may have been rung at the window, so as to be heard outside the church, especially where the village lay on the south side. churches are comparatively few in which, as at march or walpole st peter, a special cot was provided for a sanctus bell above the chancel arch. at hawstead in suffolk a sanctus bell remains in position on the inner side of the chancel screen. in the aisleless church of preen in shropshire, where the chancel, belonging to a small cell of monks, a colony from wenlock, was divided by a screen from the parochial nave, there is a low side window in the north wall, just west of the place where the screen originally stood with an altar against it. the window has a lowered sill, with a stone seat on either side; and its position suggests that it may have been used for the above purpose. a seat at the window, as at morpeth, would have been useful for the server who rang the bell; but some think that it may have been used by the priest in hearing confessions. the common explanation of any unfamiliar object in a church is that it had to do with confession; and one therefore hesitates to adopt a solution of the difficulty which is so open to suspicion. but there are certainly windows which are recessed too deeply to allow of the sanctus bell being audible through them, and no existing example affords any real convenience for confessions. it is difficult, moreover, to explain, on the sanctus bell or confession hypotheses, why, at othery in somerset, there should be not merely a low side window in the south chancel wall, but a corresponding opening through the south-east buttress of the central tower, evidently planned in relation to the window. also why, in some examples, is there a hook, as though for a hanging lamp, in the soffit of the window-head? cases of this kind have been explained, with much learning, by the possible use of the 'low side' window as a place for a lamp, which was hung there to frighten evil spirits from the churchyard, and could be trimmed from the outside by merely opening the shutters. to those who know anything of medieval thought, this is not unlikely. no explanation yet advanced is wholly satisfactory. the difference of opinion leads to the conclusion that the use of the low side window was not one and invariable, and that it may have been intended for more than one use, but the sanctus bell hypothesis appears to fit the largest number of cases. the fact that cots for sanctus bells are, as a rule, comparatively late additions to buildings, should be taken into account in considering the use of the low side window. in our own day, it often serves the very practical purpose of giving additional light to the west end of a very dark chancel; but this can hardly have been its original object. [illustration: fig. 13. wensley, yorkshire: chancel and s. aisle from s.e., shewing low side window.] [illustration: fig. 14. st mary redcliffe, bristol: from the north-east.] § 45. the double crypt at grantham, below the south chapel of the chancel, is not a very usual feature. the entrance to the grantham crypt was originally by two external doors, which still remain. in process of time, it is not improbable that the relics, which at an earlier date were in the chapel above the north porch, were translated to the eastern crypt. a stairway, with a very imposing doorway at its head, was made to it from the south side of the chancel in the early part of the fifteenth century. a certain number of crypts of saxon date still remain beneath chancels: these, however, are few, and perhaps the last survival of the _confessio_ in the english parish church is the aisled crypt at lastingham, near pickering. the greater part of a twelfth century crypt, with ribbed vaulting, remains beneath the chancel at newark. where the church is built on ground with a steep slope eastward, it is more economical to build the chancel on an open crypt, which also may have its uses as a bone-house when the churchyard is cleared, than to build it on a solid lower stage. this accounts for the crypts at bedale and thirsk in yorkshire, and madley, near hereford, which are really lower stories to the chancel, and not subterranean chambers. the lastingham crypt is also built on an abrupt eastward slope. the site of st mary redcliffe at bristol allowed for the construction of large crypt-chambers on its south side and beneath the lady chapel. sometimes, as at hythe in kent, the floor of the chancel was raised to make room for a crypt below. such crypts were used as bone-houses, when the churchyard was disturbed to make room for new burials. the crypt beneath the south aisle at rothwell, in northamptonshire, contains a collection of bones to which, as to that at hythe, ill-founded legends have been attached. both these large bone-holes contain altars, at which masses for the dead were said: there is also an altar in the eastern crypt at grantham. sometimes, as at oundle and st mary magdalene's, bridgwater, there is a small crypt or bone-hole beneath one of the transeptal chapels. bone-holes also occur beneath the east end of an aisle, as at higham ferrers in northamptonshire, and hallaton in leicestershire. at burford, st thomas' chapel, to the west of the south transept, has its floor raised to give headway to the vault of the bone-hole below. a similar bone-hole is entered from the interior of the south aisle at bosham, in sussex: the altar at the end of the aisle is raised on a platform above it, as the floor of the hole is only a little below the level of the aisle. the splendid twelfth century crypt at st mary's, warwick, extended beneath the chancel and transepts of the collegiate church, and is to be classified with the crypts or lower churches of our norman cathedrals, rather than with the less ambitious crypts of our parish churches. chapter iv the furniture of a medieval parish church: conclusion § 46. our parish churches, as we have them to-day, are stripped of much that made them beautiful. the cold walls, often scraped of all their plaster and whitewash; the windows, glazed with white glass, or with modern glass of very uncertain merit, reveal merely the structural skeleton of the building. the robe of colour with which the interior was clothed is gone; and only fragments here and there remain to tell us of the beauty of the decorative art which was, at the close of the middle ages, at its very highest point. but enough is left to enable us to picture to ourselves the appearance of the interior of an english medieval church, and reconstruct that arrangement of furniture and pictorial decoration which made it so beautiful. § 47. to take, first, the features common to nave and chancel alike, the walls of the building were covered with paintings executed on a plaster surface. as might be expected, the best remains of such paintings are to be found in districts where the churches are built of rubble, and the plaster covering, necessary to the internal wall-surface, afforded the fullest field for this form of decoration. there are numerous and beautiful examples in sussex and surrey, from which a good idea may be gained of the general scheme of painting in a medieval church. the earlier wall-paintings, such as those at copford in essex, or south leigh in oxfordshire, or the probably thirteenth century paintings at easby in yorkshire, are stiff in drawing and somewhat crude in colouring. from the earliest times, however, this method of decoration was adopted, and gradually assumed a more independent existence and a more pictorial character. as the history of art advanced, and the demand for special kinds of work increased, the lesser arts, hitherto treated as mere servants of masoncraft, began to strike out paths for themselves. the painters at pickering in yorkshire or at raunds in northamptonshire, treated the walls on which they worked as the backgrounds of strong and brightly coloured designs bearing no relation to the architectural divisions of the building. where the space to be covered was limited, like the wall between two aisle windows, the treatment was more restrained: in these positions there occur, as at st breage in cornwall, panel pictures of saints. in the north aisle at kettering there is a faded picture of st roch, the blue background of which, studded with gold stars, is a beautiful example of medieval colour. but the general treatment pursued by the later medieval painters, in their subject and figure painting, was unconfined by architectural limits, and sometimes a single subject spreads below and round a window. above the chancel arch was usually a painting of the doom, of which traces remain in many churches, as at holy trinity, coventry, and (much restored) at st thomas, salisbury. at liddington in rutland and at kettering, the doom seems to have been extended to the north and south walls of the nave: there is on the north clerestory wall at kettering, a figure of an angel looking towards the middle of the wall above the chancel arch; while there are remains on the south wall at liddington, of a huge whale-like figure representing the mouth of hades. the subjects represented in these paintings were of the utmost variety. a good idea of the beauty of colour attained by the artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries may be gained from a study of the fragmentary figure and pattern paintings at cirencester or the important remains at bloxham. to the end of the middle ages much pattern and diaper work was used in painting large surfaces or filling in backgrounds. in several northamptonshire churches the soffits of arches are covered with reddish brown scrolls of leafage, at its best most elaborate and delicate. the shafts in the angles of the tower at fairford are painted with a spiral pattern in two colours, like a barber's pole, and at fairford and burford there are important remains of late diapered backgrounds. one of the best pieces of fifteenth century diaper painting known to the present writer is that above the chancel arch at llanbedr-ystrad-yw in breconshire, which served as a background to a rood and figures of st mary and st john. [illustration: fig. 15. patrington, yorks: interior, looking across nave from south transept.] § 48. mural painting, however, was little more than a complement to the stained or painted windows, which were the most gorgeous note of colour in the medieval fabric. there is no more familiar feature of medieval architecture than the gradual increase in the size of windows, due to that constant progress in the science of architectural construction, in which the timber-roofed parish church followed the vaulted cathedral. the low round-headed windows of the twelfth century were followed by the long lancets of the early thirteenth century. lancets gradually drew closer and closer together, and were united with spherical openings above, until the mullioned window with its geometrical tracery was formed. the restless spirit of the medieval craftsman was not satisfied with tracery imprisoned within geometrical limits: the enclosing circles and triangles were removed, and the tracery twined in naturalistic curves in the head of the window. then, at the middle of the fourteenth century, the limit of the imitation of nature was reached. the black death formed a sudden division between the work of the old school and the new age, and that formalism in window tracery began, which lasted for years, and left its mark on our architecture as late as the days of the stewarts. it was long the fashion among those who saw merely the decline in architectural detail, distinctive of the 'perpendicular' style, to speak of the magnificent achievements of the fifteenth century masons with an overbearing contempt. as a matter of fact, fifteenth century builders were gifted with a power of design, and an ability to plan a parish church as a whole, unequalled in the previous history of medieval art. they lost their interest in sculptured detail, because their main concern was with the broad contrasts of light, shade, and colour, which their large windows and high walls afforded--contrasts in which there was no use for minute detail, and the deep under-cutting and delicate carving of the earlier styles became mere waste of time. the great sheets of coloured glass, in which, as time went on, painting became of more and more importance, and large figures beneath tall canopies of white glass took the place of the smaller subjects and more deeply coloured canopies and grounds of an earlier time, supplied an effect fully as beautiful as that once given by the contrasts of bold projections and deep hollows in moulded arches and carved foliage. the mason in no small degree sacrificed his skill to the glazier; but, in the service of the glazier, his power of noble design on a large scale increased. no effect of colour can well surpass that which is still to be seen in some of our late medieval churches--the grisaille windows of the chancel at norbury in derbyshire, the late fourteenth century figure glass of the north aisle at lowick in northamptonshire, the fifteenth century east window of the south aisle at st winnow in cornwall, the fourteenth century jesse tree, once in st chad's, and now in st mary's at shrewsbury, or the fifteenth century jesse tree at llanrhaiadr-yn-cynmerch, near denbigh. some of the parish churches of york are almost as rich in glass as the cathedral itself. but, in those churches which are still so fortunate as to retain nearly all their medieval glass, like all saints, north street, at york, st neot in cornwall, and fairford, the lack of the connecting link which the mural paintings between the windows formed in the colour-scheme is sadly felt. at fairford, in particular, where the wall-painting which remains is not near the windows, the glass, in its frame of cold plastered wall, gives the effect of isolated masses of almost violent colour, which need to be reduced to their proper key by the painting of the intermediate wall surfaces. on the other hand, at pickering or raunds, where we have the mural paintings, the glass is wanting. often, where painting and stained glass have both disappeared, as in the chapel at south skirlaugh, their necessity to the building forces itself on the attention. probably, the full value of stained and painted glass in architectural design, and the relations which prevailed at the close of the middle ages between the mason and glazier, can be judged nowhere in europe better than in king's college chapel at cambridge. § 49. the third source of colour to the church, apart from the stonework and the stained glass, was the woodwork of roofs, screens, and other pieces of furniture. with this must be reckoned also the colour of the stone furniture of the church, the sedilia, canopied tombs, stone reredoses, pulpits, and so on. as a rule, the colouring of the stone, here as upon the walls, has faded away or has been obscured by later coats of plaster or whitewash. here and there, as at higham ferrers, a tomb-canopy keeps not a little of its original brilliance. there is a gorgeous coloured frame, probably much restored, for a reredos in the north chapel at worstead in norfolk. the panels of the reredos in the south aisle at northleach contain certain figures of saints, in faded green, red, and blue. the fine reredoses in the side chapels of st cuthbert's at wells have brilliant remains of gilding. but coloured woodwork, which has lost little of its brightness, is fairly common, and, though it has often been subjected to drastic restoration, is sometimes almost untouched by time. this type of art reached its highest point in the churches of east anglia, in the great roofs, with their figures of angels at the end of the hammerbeams or at the foot of the principal rafters, extending from end to end of the building, in the canopies of the fonts, like that at ufford st mary, near woodbridge, and in the rood screens, like that at ranworth, its openings fringed with cusping of gilded plaster, and its panels painted with figures of saints and archangels, which sometimes, as at southwold, were set within a raised frame of gilded gesso work. § 50. this setting of colour, towards which stone, wood, and glass all contributed their share, constituted the great beauty of the internal effect of a medieval parish church; and naturally, the more the various craftsmen who worked there advanced in skill--their skill growing in proportion to their opportunity--the more gorgeous was the effect of the assemblage of brilliant windows, screens, and pictured walls. the usual entrance would be through the south porch. near the entrance, or, at any rate, near the west end of the church, stood the font, beneath its canopy. no piece of church furniture was subject to so much variety of design as the font; and the types vary from perfectly unadorned examples to structures of the utmost richness. the canopy was sometimes a simple cover, which could be moved by hand: often it was a towering structure, suspended by pulleys from the ceiling: sometimes it formed a roofed enclosure on carved uprights, within which the font stood, of stone at luton in bedfordshire, of wood at trunch in norfolk. some fonts, like the famous one at little walsingham in norfolk, perhaps the most beautiful of those on which the seven sacraments are represented, stand on high stepped platforms: others are on a low plinth, which is occasionally continued from the base of a neighbouring column. in fact, the arrangement of fonts is as various as their shape. the rest of the furniture of the nave would vary. some of the east anglian churches, such as irstead in norfolk, or dennington and fressingfield in suffolk, keep many of the medieval benches, with narrow seats, backs with carved lines of open-work, and projecting ledges which to-day are used for book-rests, but were originally intended as kneelers. worshippers would kneel on these ledges, with their feet on the seats behind: the age of hassocks had not come, and the floor was hardly an ideal kneeling place. many english churches were seated with benches of this kind during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. few parts of england are without their examples of bench-ends. many fine examples remain in cornwall, as at launcells, and in somerset, as at trull; and in some churches, as down st mary and lapford in devon, the early sixteenth century bench-ends are almost complete. wooden benches, however, do not seem to have become general till a comparatively late date, and there was probably little seating accommodation in the earlier churches. the plinths of columns were sometimes made of some size, as at coddington in notts, to afford seats; and in some churches, as belaugh and tunstead in norfolk, and cotterstock, tansor, and warmington in northamptonshire, there are stone benches round the inner walls of various parts of the church, apparently for the same purpose. [illustration: fig. 16. well, yorkshire: font cover.] § 51. at the east end of each aisle, as has been shewn, there was very frequently an altar. this was enclosed within screens, shutting off, as a rule, the eastern part of the aisle. the screens remain at dennington, where the loft above the rood screen was continued round them, with fine effect. at wolborough in south devon, the side screens also project from the main screen; and, in many cases where the screens themselves have disappeared, holes in the adjacent columns, vertical grooves in the bases, and other similar signs, bear witness to their former existence. all the side altars of a church would be fenced in by screens. in large churches, such as grantham, there was often more than one chapel in an aisle: the north and south aisles of the nave at grantham contained at least two chapels each. there were four chapels in the south aisle at ludlow, three in the north: the transepts each contained two chapels; and, in addition to these, five of the arches of the nave had chapels beneath them, while the altar of the cross stood at the east end of the nave in front of the tower. § 52. a nave like this would be broken up by a great variety of screen-work; for the clear vista from end to end and side to side of a building, so dear to the restorer of the middle of the nineteenth century, formed no part of the medieval ideal. a space, however, would be kept clear near the pulpit, which, at ludlow, stood west of the first pier from the east of the north arcade. the stone pulpit at cirencester is in much the same position; at wolverhampton, it is on the south side of the nave; at nantwich it is against the north-east pier; at holy trinity, coventry, against the south-east pier of the central tower. the medieval pulpits of devonshire stand just west of the rood screen; some, like kenton, on the north; others, like dartmouth, on the south side of the entrance. the sermon was hardly so prominent a feature in the services of the medieval church as it became at a later date; but many medieval pulpits remain, and those at wolverhampton and coventry, in particular, are imposing structures. the regular furniture of the nave was completed by the pulpit. however, there are some other features to notice. each altar, or, at any rate, each of the more important altars, would have its own piscina: the chantries at the ends of the aisles sometimes had their own sedile or sedilia. on a bracket near, or in a niche behind each altar, would be a figure, carved and painted, of the saint to whom it was dedicated; and before certain altars where a light or lights were maintained there would be hanging lamps or stands for candles according to the endowment. thomas sibthorpe, when he founded his chapels at beckingham, provided for lights before each altar: in the chantry certificates made under the chantry act of edward vi, many notices are found of stocks of money by which lights were maintained to burn before specified altars. there would be a holy water stoup in the wall, on the right hand as one entered the church: often the stoup is found in the porch. in some of the norfolk churches--sall, cawston, aylsham, and worstead are the best instances--the lower part of the tower is screened off from the nave, the screen supporting a floor which forms a ringers' gallery. in the ringers' gallery at sall there is a kind of crane, by which the cover of the font, which stands close to the west end, is lifted. in a few churches, as at weston-in-gordano in somerset, there are remains of a small gallery above the main doorway of the church. this is sometimes explained as a gallery used on palm sunday by the semi-chorus who joined in chanting the processional hymn. such a gallery might be used by singers or minstrels on special occasions. § 53. the transepts, where they occur, were, as has already been said, used as chapels, or divided off into more than one chapel. little need be said of the chapels on either side of the chancel, as the general arrangement of their altars and furniture was not very different from that of the chancel itself. the quire and chancel were divided from the nave by the rood screen. this important piece of furniture, usually of wood, but sometimes of stone, crossed the chancel arch from side to side; and was often continued, in churches where the chancel arch was omitted, across the west end of the chancel aisles. where there was a chancel arch, the chancel chapels had their own screens. the rood screen was elaborately carved, and its lower panels were painted with figures of angels, saints, prophets, apostles, and other designs. the uprights dividing the panels were continued upwards on either side of open panels, sometimes treated as tall arched openings, at other times imitating the form of mullioned windows, and were framed into a plinth at the bottom, and a horizontal beam at the top. the central division of the screen was closed by folding doors: on either side of this entrance was sometimes, against the west side of the screen, an altar. at ranworth in norfolk the screen altars are enclosed by panels returned from the face of the screen: there are distinct traces of this arrangement at weston-in-gordano and other places; and, at lapford and swymbridge in devon, there are large rectangular openings in the traceried panels of the upper part of the screens, across which painted cloths seem to have been stretched at the back of the side altars. above the screen, with its floor-beams laid across the top, and attached to either face by a series of trusses which formed a deep coved and ribbed cornice to the screen, was the loft, gallery, or, as it was often called, the 'solar.' sometimes, as at montgomery and llanwnog, the screen was double, the floor of the loft forming a roof to the space between. this upper story had a projecting parapet on either side, the front of which was divided into panels and painted. it was approached by a staircase, the position of which varied greatly. in churches with an aisleless chancel, the stair was contained in a turret to the north or south of the chancel arch, which was, if there was little room for it, sometimes built out into the adjacent chapel. at dennington, however, where the loft was continued round the screens at the end of the nave aisles, the staircase is in the south wall of the south aisle. at ropsley, near grantham, the stair is in the outer wall of the north aisle, near the north-east corner; and the loft was approached by a bridge thrown across the end of the north aisle. in the aisleless church of little hereford, near tenbury, where there is a very narrow chancel arch, the loft was approached by a straight stair in the thickness of the south half of the east wall: a right-angled turn at the top led straight into the loft. in churches with aisled chancels, the stair was commonly contained in a turret projecting from the outer side of the north or south wall, and there were lofts continued across all the screens of the chancel and its chapels. at llywel in breconshire, there is a fairly broad straight staircase at right angles to the loft, contained in a broad projection from the north wall of the aisleless nave: this was a favourite arrangement in wales, and occurs at patricio, and, in the more primitive form of a wooden stair within a projecting window, at llanwnog in montgomeryshire. wooden stairs and even ladders to lofts were probably not unusual. at totnes the chief approach to the loft of the stone screen was a stairway in a half-octagon, projecting into the north part of the chancel, from the head of which the way lay along the loft of the adjoining parclose screen. few lofts, however, remain. the totnes loft, which was of wood, is gone. several welsh lofts, owing, no doubt, to their remote position, escaped destruction when the general dismantling of rood lofts was carried out in the reign of elizabeth. the most magnificent of these are at patricio in breconshire, llanegryn in merionethshire, montgomery and llanwnog in montgomeryshire, and llananno in radnorshire. less beautiful, but remarkable for the very perfect state of its painted back-board, is the loft at llanelieu in breconshire. but in remote english places, such as blackawton, near dartmouth, cotes-by-stow in lincolnshire, and hubberholm in west yorkshire, lofts are left in a fair state of perfection. [illustration: fig. 17. banwell, somerset: rood screen.] § 54. the use of the loft was, it has often been said, for the deacon to sing the gospel from at high mass on great festivals. this was certainly the case with the stone _pulpita_ above the quire screens of collegiate and monastic churches. but, in most parish churches the stair was so narrow and inconvenient that certainly the vestments and probably the temper of the deacon who attempted to climb it would be easily spoiled. in many lofts, it is true, there was an altar. the piscina of one remains in a few churches, as at little hereford: there was a chantry founded in 1349 at one in grantham church, where the screen was a large one of stone. but the habitual use of the loft was as an organ gallery; and the fine screen at newark-on-trent still has at its east side the rectangular projection which was occupied by a 'pair of organs.' the rood itself, the great cross bearing the figure of our lord with statues of st mary and st john upon either side, stood upon a beam which crossed the chancel arch above the loft. the beam was, of course, painted, and, in addition to the statues which it carried, bore sockets for candles, which were lighted on festival occasions. the corbels which supported rood beams are sometimes seen: beams themselves, however, do not often remain. there is a finely painted example of one at tunstead in norfolk; and another remains at cullompton in devon. here and there, where the beam was fixed in the wall, and had to be sawn away, the end may still be seen. some screens had no loft: in these cases the rood frequently stood upon the top of the screen. in some cases, as at llanelieu in breconshire and wenhaston in suffolk, the rood and its attendant figures were fixed upon a painted board which formed a back to the loft, and filled the upper part of the chancel arch. in other places, as at hickleton, near doncaster, and llanbedr-ystrad-yw, they were fixed against the wall above the chancel arch. this would be the case where, as at hickleton, the arch was low and narrow, and there was no room for a separate beam beneath it. no piece of church furniture is more interesting than the rood screen and its accompaniments: the variety of local design and of its arrangements, and the great beauty of the finished work, make it, of all special topics of ecclesiology, perhaps the most attractive. § 55. it has been said before that the hooks by which the lenten veil was suspended across the chancel arch are still to be seen in several churches. the western part of the chancel was occupied by the quire, whose stalls were returned along the back of the screen, the rector's stall being the end return stall on the south side. quire stalls in parish churches were often carved with great refinement and beauty: the stalls at walpole st peter have each a stone canopy, formed by recessing panels in the chancel wall. the finest stalls, with their hinged seats, rightly called misericords, and wrongly misereres, are usually to be found in collegiate or chantry churches, like higham ferrers or ludlow, where the chantry priests of the palmers' guild said their offices together in the high chancel. the stalls of the chantry college at fotheringhay are now in the churches of tansor and benefield; the quire stalls of st mary's at nottingham are in the suburban church of sneinton. an excellent instance of the combination of stalls and rood screen is found in the village church of ashby st ledgers, near daventry, which contains a large amount of old woodwork. in the centre of the quire or, as a gospel-desk, on the north side of the altar would stand the lectern. the number of medieval lecterns remaining in england is not great, the finest being the great brass lectern given by provost hacomblen to king's college, cambridge. lecterns in which the desk takes the form of a bird are sometimes found, as in norwich cathedral and at ottery st mary. § 56. when interest was first revived in ecclesiology, the fashion of raising the quire and chancel above the rest of the church, by a number of steps intended to be symbolical, became very prevalent. this, however, was not in keeping with medieval practice. it is true that occasionally chancels were raised high above the rest of the church. at walpole st peter the chancel, rebuilt in the fifteenth century, was brought up to the churchyard boundary, and apparently interfered with a right of way which led round the back of the old chancel. it was therefore built with a floor raised high above the nave, and the right of way was preserved by piercing an arch below. st leonard's at exeter has a chancel built over an archway which affords access to a narrow street. a church built on a slope, like tansor, ascends noticeably from west to east. but the ascent is contrived, not by means of flights of steps, but by an inclined plane. as a rule, floors of churches sloped slightly upwards towards the altar. a perfectly level floor gives the false effect in perspective of a downward slope: a floor, on the other hand, with a gradual upward slope has a level effect. the floor of the quire was sometimes elevated by a single shallow step above the floor of the nave: very generally, it was on the same level: at st michael's, cambridge, the level was slightly lower. the chancel, again, was a step higher than the quire, and the altar stood slightly raised upon its own oblong altar pace. the levels at geddington in northamptonshire remain much as they were. the quire is on a level with the nave: the chancel is a pace higher, and the altar stands upon its own pace. an inscription round the foot of the chancel wall records the making of the pavement (now renewed) and the _scabella_, by which the foot-paces are almost certainly implied, of the altar in 1369. round the lower foot-pace of the south chapel is another inscription, apparently of the same date. in no respect have modern restorations been so disastrous as in the altering of original levels, in order to give the altar the elevation which was supposed by the restorers to be necessary. § 57. the altar itself, as can be seen from the many altar-slabs which remain, was a long and fairly broad stone table: it was usually less than three feet high, and was covered by a cloth and frontal. it is probable that the frontal, like the vestments of the clergy, followed, in the ordinary parish church, no very strict sequence of colour according to the seasons. for festivals the handsomest and newest frontal and vestments would probably be used. the altar was kept fairly low, to make room for the reredos, which extended across the east wall above the altar, and below the sill of the east window. it will be found that modern restorers, in nine cases out of ten, have disregarded old english uses, by raising an altar until its upper surface is close to the sill of the window, and then by blocking up part, or even the whole of the window, by reredoses or altar screens of stone or wood. high reredoses and altar screens were not unknown, of course, in england; but the ordinary reredos was a single or double band of carving below the east window, as at geddington or ludlow. at stanion in northants, the string-courses of the east walls of the chancel and north chapel are raised, below the east windows, to form frames for mural paintings or carved retables above the altar. sculptured tablets were not rare, and indications of their presence may be traced: in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, the alabaster, dug out of the chellaston 'plaster-pits,' and worked by the 'plasterers' of nottingham, was used, among other purposes, for such tablets. on the north and south sides of the reredos the altar was enclosed by curtains hung on brass rods projecting from the wall or from upright standards. these curtains, known as riddels, had sockets for candles at the ends of the rods. they appear to be derived from the curtains which hung round the altar canopies of basilican churches, and were drawn at the consecration of the elements. probably the reredos, in most churches, was formed by a painted cloth--that is, a piece of embroidered tapestry--hung behind the altar, or stretched from the upright of the one to the upright of the other riddel. it may be added that the arrangement of cross, candles and flower vases on a shelf, or even on several shelves, at the back of the altar, with which we are so familiar, was not frequent in the middle ages. the cross was usually the central carved or embroidered feature of the reredos: one or two lighted candles were placed upon the altar at mass; and flowers and sweet smelling herbs would be strewn at certain seasons on the chancel floor. richness of colour and simplicity of furniture were the distinguishing features of the medieval altar. there is a curious ledge upon the back part of the upper surface of the crypt altar at grantham: it actually lies _upon_ the altar, and its height, as contrasted with that of the modern gradine or shelf, affords the same contrast that there is between the low foot-paces of the medieval, and the flights of steps of the modern chancel. § 58. the statue of the patron saint stood near the altar, on a corbel in the wall, in a canopied recess, or, as at abbots kerswell in devon, where there is a very large figure of the virgin, in the jamb of a window. in front of the altar, the pyx, or receptacle for the reserved sacrament, hung by chains from the roof: it was covered by an embroidered veil, which was drawn aside when the pyx was opened. the rest of the ordinary furniture of the chancel was of a more permanent description. the piscina and sedilia, which are frequently of one date and form part of one design, were on the south side of the chancel, forming arched recesses in the wall. the number of sedilia varied from one to three: more than three are seldom found in a parish church. permanent stone sedilia were usually regarded as part of the regular furniture of the chancel. occasionally their place was supplied by the lowering of a window sill; but there were also instances, no doubt, in which the sedile or sedilia were simply wooden chairs placed near the south wall of the chancel. the piscina was frequently supplied with an upper ledge for cruets. in the piscina of the south aisle at hawton, near newark, there is an inner recess for this purpose on the east side; at tansor a shallow niche is provided in the head of the arch of the piscina. the drain of the piscina was usually within the wall; but there are a number of twelfth century, and a few later, examples, in which the bowl forms a projection from the wall, and the drain was contained in a detached column, the base of which is frequently united to the foot of the wall. projecting bowls are common, with drain-holes which slant downwards into the wall. a piscina is sometimes found in the sill of a window: one at grantham is fitted with a removable drain, and there are other such examples. a drain in the chancel floor is sometimes found, usually of a rather early period. in addition to the piscina, most churches contain plain almeries or cupboards, rectangular recesses with rebates for wooden doors: these are generally in the north or east wall of the chancel. § 59. more exceptional--indeed, very uncommon--as a piece of furniture, was the permanent easter sepulchre, which usually was on the north, but sometimes on the south of the chancel. this was the place to which the host was carried on the evening of holy thursday, and left until easter eve: it was symbolical of the sepulchre of our lord, and the services which took place in connexion with it were sometimes of a somewhat dramatic character. a permanent easter sepulchre, like those at hawton and heckington, was a luxury. these, and the sepulchre at navenby, have carvings referring to the story of the resurrection, and in the lower panels are represented the guards at the tomb. the recess at hawton, forming a triple opening, has an inner recess at the back, which could be shut and locked. at heckington and navenby the recesses are merely single cupboards, surrounded by elaborate carving. frequently, an almery was used for the purpose; and where, as at frating in essex, claypole in lincolnshire, or sefton in lancashire, an almery is treated with special care, as, for example, with a floral hood-mould, this special use is indicated. there may also have been removable sepulchres of wood: a piece of furniture which remains at cowthorpe in yorkshire, is said to be one. another was made for st mary redcliffe, bristol, in 1440. certainly, the sepulchre was often a temporary arrangement, like the _reposoir_ in a french church to-day. thomas meyring of newark directed his burial to take place 'where the sepulchre of our lord was wont to be set up at easter.' a founder's tomb near an altar was also used for the sepulchre, the receptacle for the host being probably placed inside the tomb-recess or against it. at sibthorpe near newark, the small sepulchre is immediately above the founder's tomb: this was probably the case at fledborough. at owston, near doncaster, a tomb-recess in the north chancel wall is often called the easter sepulchre, and a projecting stone at one side of it is pointed out as a stone for the watcher who kept guard over the tomb at easter. the majority of easter sepulchres which are left belong to the fourteenth century. the imposing structure at northwold in norfolk, which is on the south of the chancel, is of the fifteenth century, and, in at least one example, at wymondham in norfolk, also on the south side, there are details which approach the renaissance period. the frequent identity of the founder's tomb with the easter sepulchre, for which there is documentary evidence, is proved further by the tombs of the rector and vicar, under whose auspices, in the second quarter of the sixteenth century, the chancels of south pool and woodleigh churches in south devon were restored. these are vaulted recesses north of the altar, containing table tombs with effigies, and a large amount of florid carving, which shews signs of renaissance influence. on the wall at the back of either tomb are sculptures dealing with the burial and resurrection of our lord, which clearly point to the use of the tombs at easter, and justify the name of easter sepulchre, frequently applied to them. a third tomb of rather later date is at west alvington, in the same neighbourhood: its details were suggested by south pool and woodleigh, but the brasses of the back wall are gone, and its inclusion in the list of easter sepulchres is doubtful. there is a curious late thirteenth century piece of work, projecting inwards from the north wall of the chancel at twywell, near kettering. a tomb-recess forms the lowest stage; above this is a double almery, which may have been an easter sepulchre, and above this, again, is a sloping stone desk with a book-rest for the reader of the gospel. stone gospel-desks are found in a few derbyshire churches, like crich, spondon, and etwall; and in a few other rare instances. a founder's tomb is, of course, by no means an invariable feature of a chancel. the natural place for the burial of the founder of a chantry would be close to the altar where his chantry was celebrated; and often, as at grantham, the presence of a tomb in an aisle wall indicates the existence of a chantry altar near that spot. [illustration: fig. 18. hawton, notts: easter sepulchre.] § 60. the sacristy has been referred to in the previous chapter; and with this description of the furniture of the chancel, our account of the english parish church is nearly come to an end. few persons who are in the habit of visiting parish churches will fail to meet with exceptional or unique features. for example, in the north wall of the chancel at scawton in north yorkshire, there is a long oblong trough, with a drain in the wall behind it, the use of which is difficult to conjecture. at tunstead in norfolk, there is a narrow platform behind the altar, the whole width of the east wall. at its south end is a stair from the floor of the chancel; and near the stair is a door leading into a chamber below the platform. this narrow room, far too small for a sacristy, is lighted by a grating in the floor of the platform. it is supposed that this was an arrangement for the exhibition of relics. at tanfield, near ripon, there is a little cell-like recess in the wall between the chancel and north chapel, with a window commanding the altar. the problems which are set by these details bring us by degrees into relation with the whole of medieval life; and the history of the parish church becomes an important part of the social history of the parish. the magnificent tombs of the marmions at tanfield also recall to us an artistic feature of the parish church which opens out a wide field, and can be dealt with here only so far as the tombs themselves afford evidence as to the date of the part of the church in which they occur. § 61. the actual development of the parish church comes to an end with the reformation. the building of great churches, cathedral and monastic, ceased with the suppression of the monasteries. the suppression of the chantries, and the new doctrines which it symbolised, did away with one object which had been a powerful consideration with the lay benefactor of parish churches. henceforward the best work of those english masons who, in every county, had for generations shaped the course of medieval art, and, with it, the best work of the wood-carvers and glaziers, is found in private houses. in the early part of the seventeenth century, under the influence of laud, much restoration and rebuilding was done. wood-carvers filled many churches with furniture of great beauty and historical value. churches like st john's at leeds, or the little chapel of carlton husthwaite in yorkshire, are, in stone and woodwork alike, complete examples of the work of this period. brancepeth, sedgefield, and eaglescliffe in durham; burneston in north yorkshire; and, above all, croscombe in somerset, contain wooden furniture which one would not willingly exchange for medieval work. but, in spite of the richness and picturesqueness of seventeenth century woodwork, the art of the laudian revival had no power to strike out new lines for itself. the chancels of astley abbots in shropshire, kelmarsh in northamptonshire, and barsham in suffolk, interest us by their quaint adaptation of gothic detail: they tell us nothing new. the art of the mason, as regards the parish church, is exhausted. § 62. at a later date, wren built parish churches with an extraordinary elasticity of style and plan. but the study of wren's plans is simply the study of the plans of an individual architect: they are the outcome of his relation to the fashions of his day, and his unrivalled capacity for dealing with them. he established firmly the use of a modified palladian style in church architecture, which his successors imitated until nothing further could be done with it. but, when we look at his churches, we never can forget the architect behind them. st martin's-in-the-fields and st mary-le-strand, by gibbs; st philip's at birmingham, by archer, fine churches though they are, fall short of his designs; and we instinctively compare and contrast their plan and elevation with the models supplied by wren. in the medieval parish church, on the other hand, the individual architect had no place; the whole artistic activity of an age was represented; the builder was an original artist, and a member of a nation of artists; and the development of the parish church was the work of a national interest, not merely confined to one highly specialised profession. when the gothic revival came in the early nineteenth century, it was thought that medieval art was once more re-born. but, when we look to-day at the scholarly and often extremely beautiful work of artists like pugin, sir gilbert scott, street, pearson, butterfield, bodley, or the younger gilbert scott, we still feel the force of individual design and style rather than the force of a great collective movement. all these, like wren, have added individual contributions to church planning and decoration; but their art is a by-path of national life, and is merely the result of a purely individual type of thought. § 63. at the same time, to say this is not to belittle post-reformation church architecture. it is simply to point out the contrast between the work of the architect and the work of the medieval mason, between a sporadic development of art, and a development which was general in every part of the country. but, while the work of later generations differs in quality and spirit from that of the medieval craftsman, while it is necessarily more sophisticated and less spontaneous than his, no greater mistake can be made than to drive it out of our churches. the reformation and cromwell have been made responsible for much destruction: yet no one has destroyed so light-heartedly as the modern restorer, in his efforts to bring back churches to what is called their 'original state.' to-day, people are waking up to the value of post-reformation masonry and furniture. they realise that when an eighteenth century church is swept away, and a handsome building, in an eclectic gothic style, decked with the best products of modern arts and crafts, rises in its place, the advantage is questionable. not merely does much good furniture inevitably perish, but a link with the past is destroyed. eighteenth century pews may not be altogether suited to a fifteenth century church; but they remind us at any rate that the fabric in which they stand has a continuous history. the age which produced them followed its own taste and worked on its own lines, and did not merely strive after an ideal of harmonious imitation. not only the work of recent centuries has been touched, but medieval work has been altered: screens have been mutilated and removed, old glass has been destroyed, even whole fabrics have been rebuilt with very slight regard to their earlier plan. it can never be impressed too strongly upon the average englishman that, quite apart from their religious associations, the parish churches of this country form, as a body, one of the most remarkable historical monuments which any european nation possesses. we may regret, perhaps, that past generations have tampered with them; but for that very reason we should hesitate to tamper with them ourselves, or to replace incongruous work of the past by imitative work of our own. we may well use our individual energy and our new ideas in adding to their number; but our treatment of the older work, where it positively calls for renewal, should be tender, conservative, and self-effacing. the excellence of the medieval mason's work consists largely in his avoidance of self-consciousness, in its perfectly natural and spontaneous feeling: if we attempt to impose our individuality upon his work, we are in danger of supplying to future and, it may be hoped, wiser generations a contrast from which they will not fail to draw a melancholy profit. bibliographical note books exclusively devoted to the subject of the english parish church are few in number, and generally are in the form of descriptions of the churches of special districts, or of monographs on individual churches. 1. among the older books in which special attention is paid to parish churches, the following may be mentioned: bloxam, m. h., _principles of gothic ecclesiastical architecture_, 11th ed., 2 vols., london, 1882. brandon, j. r. and j. a., _parish churches_, london, 1888. [perspective views, ground plans, and short descriptions.] ecclesiological [cambridge camden] society, _a hand-book of english ecclesiology_, london, 1847. neale, j. p., and le keux, j., _views of the most interesting collegiate and parochial churches in great britain_, 2 vols., london, 1824-5. parker, j. h., _introduction to the study of gothic architecture_, 12th ed., oxford and london, 1898. rickman, t., _an attempt to discriminate the styles of english architecture_, 7th ed., oxford and london, 1881. wickes, c., _the spires and towers of the mediaeval churches of england_, london, 1859. 2. more modern works, in which the development of the ground plan is treated as part of the general subject, are: bond, f., _gothic architecture in england_, london, 1905. brown, g. baldwin, _the arts in early england_, vol. ii, london, 1903. prior, e. s., _a history of gothic art in england_, london, 1900. scott, g. g., _an essay on the history of english church architecture_, london, 1881. 3. among volumes dealing with special districts, the following may be mentioned: buckler, g., _twenty-two churches of essex_, london, 1856. cox, j. c., _notes on the churches of derbyshire_, 4 vols., chesterfield and london, 1875-9. cranage, d. h. s., _an architectural account of the churches of shropshire_, wellington (in course of publication). mccall, h. b., _richmondshire churches_, london, 1909. northampton, _architectural notices of the churches of the archdeaconry of_, london, 1849. sharpe, e., _an account of the churches visited during the lincoln excursion of the architectural association_, london, 1871. sharpe, e., and others, _churches of the nene valley_, london, 1880. wilson, f. r., _an architectural survey of the churches in the archdeaconry of lindisfarne_, newcastle-on-tyne, 1870. 4. books upon individual churches cannot be mentioned here, nor can any detailed list be given of the numerous valuable articles in such publications as _archaeologia_ and the _archaeological journal_. some of the most enlightening work upon the subject is to be found in the papers contributed by the late j. t. micklethwaite to the transactions of various societies. those on saxon churches in vols. liii and liv of the _archaeological journal_, and the plans contributed by him to j. w. walker's _history of all saints, wakefield_(wakefield, 1888), may be specially mentioned. 5. books on the subject of church furniture are numerous. the most comprehensive modern handbook on the subject is j. c. cox and a. harvey's _english church furniture_, london, 1907. more detailed treatment of separate articles of furniture is given in f. bond's _screens and galleries_, _fonts and font-covers_, etc., volumes of a series now in course of publication. j. t. fowler's edition of _the rites of durham_ (surtees society, 1903), and rock's _church of our fathers_, edited by g. w. hart and w. h. frere (4 vols., london, 1903-4), are a mine of information on points connected with church services and furniture. 6. the historical aspect of the parish church is treated excellently by e. l. cutts, _parish priests and their people in the middle ages_ (london, 1898). but, to gain an adequate knowledge of this side of the question, the study of original documents is necessary, and chiefly of the contents of episcopal registers. of these invaluable texts some have been printed in full, and of others there are printed abstracts, but the vast majority remain in manuscript. the fullest printed series is the _exeter episcopal registers_ (ed. f. c. hingeston-randolph), covering the period 1258-1455: the york registers from 1216 to 1285 (ed. j. raine and w. brown for the surtees society), and the hereford registers from 1275 to 1327 (ed. w. w. capes and others for the cantilupe and canterbury and york societies) are also full and accurate editions. much information with regard to the foundation of chantries and other important subjects may be obtained from the calendars of the patent rolls and of letters from the papal registers, published under the direction of the master of the rolls. the chantry certificate rolls and inventories of church goods drawn up between 1547 and 1549 are also sources of great value: these have been printed for some counties, but the greater number are still unpublished. j. c. cox and r. m. serjeantson's _history of the church of the holy sepulchre, northampton_ (northampton, 1897) may be cited as a model history of a parish church. the arrangement of the topographical sections of the various victoria county histories makes it possible to study the history of a large number of churches in company with their architecture. index abbots kerswell, devon, 122 abingdon, berks., 33 acaster malbis, yorks., 92 acton burnell, salop, 79 adlingfleet, yorks., 19 ainderby steeple, yorks., 82 aldwinkle st peter, northants., 88 alveley, salop, 36 alvington, west, devon, 127 arnold, notts., 83 arundel, sussex, 37 ashby st ledgers, northants., 118 astley abbots, salop, 130 auckland st andrew, durham, 79 avening, glouces., 77 aylsham, norfolk, 111 aysgarth, yorks., 30 banwell, som., 113 bardfield, great, essex, 80 barnack, northants., 4, 53, 70 barsham, suffolk, 130 barton-le-street, yorks., 67, 68 barton-on-humber, lincs., st peter's, 54 bath, som., cathedral priory, 35 battlefield, salop, 28 beccles, suffolk, 73 beckingham, lincs., 21, 22, 33, 82, 111 bedale, yorks., 74, 96 bedminster, som., 49 belaugh, norfolk, 109 benefield, northants., 118 berkeley, glouces., 34 beverley, yorks., st mary's, 69 beverstone, glouces., 36 biggleswade, beds., 33 birmingham, warwicks., st martin's, 31; st philip's, 130 blackawton, devon, 116 blakeney, norfolk, 87 bloxham, oxon., 101 boothby pagnell, lincs., 82 bosham, sussex, 97 boston, lincs., 31, 36, 62 bottesford, lincs., 79 boughton, northants., 30 boxgrove, sussex, priory church, 35 bracebridge, lincs., 76, 77 bradford-on-avon, wilts., 70, 77 bradwell-juxta-mare, essex, st peter's on the wall, 2, 3 brancepeth, durham, 129 branston, lincs., 9, 10, 15, 58 bridgnorth, salop, 29 bridgwater, som., st mary magdalene's, 96 bridlington, yorks., priory church, 17 bristol, st mary redcliffe, 48, 49, 66, 95, 96, 126 brixworth, northants., 4, 53, 54, 55, 56 bunbury, cheshire, 28 burford, oxon., 35, 42, 43, 44, 45, 48, 49, 88, 97, 102 burgh-next-aylsham, norfolk, 78 burneston, yorks., 84, 85, 129 burnsall, yorks., 30 burton lazars, leices., 92 caistor, lincs., 58 cambridge, clare college, 38; corpus christi college, 31, 89; jesus college chapel, 38, 39; king's college chapel, 105, 118; michaelhouse, 38; st peter's college, 34, 38, 89; trinity hall, 38; st benedict's, 89; st botolph's, 35; st edward's, 38; little st mary's, 34, 38, 89; st michael's, 38, 119 canterbury, kent, cathedral, 4, 70; st martin's, 2 car colston, notts., 83 carlton husthwaite, yorks., 129 carlton-in-lindrick, notts., 57 castle rising, norfolk, 77 cawston, norfolk, 111 chaddesden, derby, 38, 84 chellaston, derby, 121 cherry hinton, cambs., 79 chesterfield, derby, 32, 33, 41 chipping norton, oxon., 32 chipping sodbury, glouces., 32 churchdown, glouces., 68 cirencester, glouces., 39, 40, 41, 48, 49, 72, 73, 101, 110 claypole, lincs., 84, 88, 124 cleobury mortimer, salop, 36 clovelly, devon, 28 coddington, notts., 109 coln st denis, glouces., 56 coneysthorpe, yorks., _see_ barton-le-street copford, essex, 100 cotes-by-stow, lincs., 116 cotterstock, northants., 28, 37, 83, 109 coventry, warwicks., holy trinity 45, 48, 49, 101, 110; st michael's, 45, 46, 47, 49, 65 cowthorpe, yorks., 124 crediton, devon, 32 crich, derby, 127 croft, yorks., 36, 82, 84 cromhall, glouces., 75 croscombe, som., 36, 129 croyland abbey, lincs., 14, 88 cullompton, devon, 117 darlington, durham, 90 dartmouth, devon, st saviour's, 110 deerhurst, glouces., 54, 55 dennington, suffolk, 80, 108, 109, 114 dereham, west, norfolk, abbey, 11, 12 donington, lincs., 75 down st mary, devon, 108 dronfield, derby, 84 durham, cathedral, 8 eaglescliffe, durham, 129 earl's barton, northants., 53 easby, yorks., 100 easingwold, yorks., 68 elm, cambs., 59 elmley, worces., castle chapel, 29 elstow abbey, beds., 88 ely, cambs., cathedral, 6, 59, 81 escomb, durham, 77 etwall, derby, 127 exeter, devon, st leonard's, 119 exton, rutland, 61, 62 fairford, glouces., 102, 104 farnacres, durham, 29 fledborough, notts., 82, 126 fleet, lincs., 75 fotheringhay, northants., 28, 37, 118 fowey, cornwall, 75 frampton, lincs., 61 frating, essex, 124 fressingfield, suffolk, 108 frome selwood, som., 45 geddington, northants., 120, 121 gedney, lincs., 60, 65 gisburn, yorks., 11 gloucester, cathedral, 8 grantham, lincs., 24, 25, 31, 34, 42, 49, 61, 65, 71, 72, 74, 89, 95, 96, 109, 116, 122, 123, 127 gretton, northants., 92 grinton, yorks., 30 haccombe, devon, 28 hale, great, lincs., 56 hallaton, leices., 25, 97 halsall, lancs., 84, 89 harringworth, northants., 88 hawstead, suffolk, 93 hawton, notts., 82, 88, 123, 124, 125 heckington, lincs., 82, 85, 89, 124 hedon, yorks., 30, 79 hereford, cathedral, 34 hereford, little, heref., 114, 116 heslerton, west, yorks., 79 hessle, yorks., 30 hexham, northumb., priory church, 4, 35 hickleton, yorks., 117 higham ferrers, northants., 28, 37, 66, 90, 97, 105, 118 hitchin, herts., 33 hodgeston, pembroke, 85 hooton pagnell, yorks., 59 hough-on-the-hill, lincs., 53 houghton-le-spring, durham, 78, 79 hubberholm, yorks., 116 hull, yorks., holy trinity, 30 hungerton, leices., 36, 68 hythe, kent, 96 immingham, lincs., 64 irstead, norfolk, 108 islip, northants., 88 jarrow-on-tyne, durham, st paul's, 4 kelmarsh, northants., 130 kenton, devon, 110 kettering, northants., 62, 66, 100, 101 ketton, rutland, 66 kewstoke, som., 35 keyston, hunts., 66 kirkburn, yorks., 56 kirkby in malhamdale, yorks., 11, 12 kirkby wiske, yorks., 82 langton, east, leices., 83 lapford, devon, 108, 114 lastingham, yorks., 96 launcells, cornwall, 108 lavenham, suffolk, 70, 87, 90 lawford, essex, 80 leeds, yorks., st john's, 129 leicester, st mary's in the castle, 65 leigh, south, oxon., 100 leighton buzzard, beds., 33 leverington, cambs., 59 lichfield, staffs., cathedral, 81 liddington, rutland, 101 lincoln, cathedral, 9, 10, 16, 34 lindisfarne, northumb., 5 llananno, radnor, 115 llanbedr-ystrad-yw, brecon, 102, 117 llanegryn, merioneth, 115 llanelieu, brecon, 116, 117 llanfair-ar-y-bryn, carmarthen, 74 llanfihangel-cwm-du, brecon, 74 llanrhaiadr-yn-cynmerch, denbigh, 104 llanwnog, montgom., 114, 115 llywel, brecon, 74, 115 london, old st paul's, 80; st james garlickhithe, 26; st martin in the fields, 130; st mary-le-strand, 130 louth, lincs., 32, 33, 62 lowick, northants., 104 lowthorpe, yorks., 26, 27, 37 ludlow, salop, 31, 34, 48, 110, 118, 121 luffenham, north, rutland, 85 luton, beds., 33, 108 madley, heref., 96 march, cambs., 94 margaretting, essex, 60 melford, long, suffolk, 34, 36 melton mowbray, leices., 67 middleham, yorks., 28 mitford, northumb., 78 monkwearmouth, durham, 4, 5, 53 montgomery, 114, 115 morpeth, northumb., 93 nantwich, cheshire, 84, 110 navenby, lincs., 82, 124 newark-on-trent, notts., 31, 35, 42, 65, 96, 116, 126 newport, salop, 28 newton nottage, glamorgan, 74 norbury, derby, 75, 84, 104 northampton, all saints', 32 northleach, glouces., 105 northwold, norfolk, 126 norton-on-tees, durham, 52 norwich, norfolk, cathedral, 8, 118; st peter mancroft, 90 nottingham, st mary's, 32, 118 oadby, leices., 64 oakham, rutland, 61 oswestry, salop, 50 othery, som., 94 othona; _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare ottery st mary, devon, 118 oundle, northants., 62, 66, 96 owston, yorks., 126 oxford, merton college chapel, 39 patricio, brecon, 115 patrick brompton, yorks., 82, 84 patrington, yorks., 62, 82, 83, 84, 99 peterborough, northants., cathedral, 4, 5, 6 pickering, yorks., 100, 104 pleshy, essex, 28 pool, south, devon, 70, 71, 126, 127 preen, salop, 93 preston-in-holderness, yorks., 30 quenington, glouces., 67 ramsey, hunts., abbey church, 6 ranworth, norfolk, 106, 112 raskelf, yorks., 68 rauceby, lincs., 61 raunds, northants., 66, 89, 100, 104 ripon, yorks., cathedral, 4 rochester, kent, cathedral, 4 romaldkirk, yorks., 82 ropsley, lincs., 114 rotherham, yorks., college of jesus, 25 rothwell, northants., 96 rushden, northants., 66, 90 rushton, northants., 90 st breage, cornwall, 100 st michael penkivel, cornwall, 38, 73 st neot, cornwall, 104 st peter's on the wall; _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare st winnow, cornwall, 104 salisbury, wilts., cathedral, 49; st thomas, 101 sall, norfolk, 73, 87, 111 sampford, great, essex, 80 sandiacre, derby, 78, 84 sawley, derby, 90 scarborough, yorks., 42 scawton, yorks., 76, 128 sedgefield, durham, 129 selby, yorks., abbey church, 17 sherburn-in-elmet, yorks., 35 sherston magna, wilts., 36 shrewsbury, salop, st chad's, 104; st mary's, 104 sibthorpe, notts., 22, 26, 37, 82, 126 skipwith, yorks., 55 skirlaugh, south, yorks., 30, 105 sleaford, lincs., 61 sneinton, notts., 118 snettisham, norfolk, 67 sompting, sussex, 61 southwell, notts., cathedral, 81 southwold, suffolk, 106 spalding, lincs., 13, 14, 32 spondon, derby, 127 stainfield priory, lincs., 11 stamford, lincs., st mary's, 31 stanion, northants., 121 stebbing, essex, 80 stoke-by-nayland, suffolk, 87 stony stratford, bucks., 33 stottesdon, salop, 36 stratford-on-avon, warwicks., 32, 66 stratton strawless, norfolk, 36 sutton, king's, northants., 67 sutton, long, lincs., 32, 60, 89 swymbridge, devon, 114 tamworth, staffs., 29 tanfield, west, yorks., 128 tansor, northants., 56, 73, 90, 109, 118, 119, 123 tattershall, lincs., 28 terrington st john's, norfolk, 74 tewkesbury, glouces., abbey church, 35 thaxted, essex, 33, 73 thirsk, yorks., 96 tickhill, yorks., 63 tideswell, derby, 84, 90 tilney all saints, norfolk, 60 tilty, essex, 80 tong, salop, 28 totnes, devon, 115 trull, som., 108 trunch, norfolk, 91, 108 tugby, leices., 58, 59 tunstead, norfolk, 87, 117, 128 twywell, northants., 127 tydd st giles, cambs., 75 ufford st mary, suffolk, 106 wakefield, yorks., cathedral, 35 walpole st peter, norfolk, 86, 87, 88, 93, 118, 119 walsingham, little, norfolk, 108 walsoken, norfolk, 60 walton, west, norfolk, 60, 75 warmington, northants., 109 warwick, st mary's, 97 wath, yorks. (north riding), 89 weaverthorpe, yorks., 58 well, yorks., 107 wellingborough, northants., 88 wells, som., st cuthbert's, 105 wenhaston, suffolk, 117 wenlock priory, salop, 93 wensley, yorks., 91 westborough, lincs., 88 westbury-on-trym, glouces., 29, 47 weston-in-gordano, som., 111, 114 whaplode, lincs., 60 willingham, cambs., 88 winchester, hants., cathedral, 6, 8, 34 witham, north, lincs., 76, 77 witney, oxon., 36 wolborough, devon, 109 wolverhampton, staffs., 29, 110 woodborough, notts., 83 woodleigh, devon, 126, 127 worcester, cathedral, 34 worstead, norfolk, 105, 111 wrexham, denbigh, 47 wymondham, norfolk, 126 yarmouth, great, norfolk, 42 york, cathedral, 85; st mary's abbey, 85; all saints', north street, 104; st william's college, 25 ythanceaster; _see_ bradwell-juxta-mare cambridge: printed by john clay, m.a. at the university press. _illustrated handbooks of art history_ _of all ages_ architecture classic and early christian by professor t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. and john slater, b.a., f.r.i.b.a. [illustration: the parthenon at athens, as it was in the time of pericles, _circa_ b.c. 438.] _illustrated handbooks of art history_ architecture classic and early christian by t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. _professor of architecture, university coll. london_ and john slater, b.a., f.r.i.b.a. [illustration: atrium of a roman mansion.] london sampson low, marston, searle, & rivington crown buildings, 188, fleet street 1882. [_all rights reserved._] london. printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. preface. this handbook is intended to give such an outline of the architecture of the ancient world, and of that of christendom down to the period of the crusades, as, without attempting to supply the minute information required by the professional student, may give a general idea of the works of the great building nations of antiquity and the early christian times. its chief object has been to place information on the subject within the reach of those persons of literary or artistic education who desire to become in some degree acquainted with architecture. all technicalities which could be dispensed with have been accordingly excluded; and when it has been unavoidable that a technical word or phrase should occur, an explanation has been added either in the text or in the glossary; but as this volume and the companion one on gothic and renaissance architecture are, in effect, two divisions of the same work, it has not been thought necessary to repeat in the glossary given with this part the words explained in that prefixed to the other. in treating so very wide a field, it has been felt that the chief prominence should be given to that great sequence of architectural styles which form the links of a chain connecting the architecture of modern europe with the earliest specimens of the art. egypt, assyria, and persia combined to furnish the foundation upon which the splendid architecture of the greeks was based. roman architecture was founded on greek models with the addition of etruscan construction, and was for a time universally prevalent. the break-up of the roman empire was followed by the appearance of the basilican, the byzantine, and the romanesque phases of christian art; and, later on, by the saracenic. these are the styles on which all mediæval and modern european architecture has been based, and these accordingly have furnished the subjects to which the reader's attention is chiefly directed. such styles as those of india, china and japan, which lie quite outside this series, are noticed much more briefly; and some matters--such, for example, as prehistoric architecture--which in a larger treatise it would have been desirable to include, have been entirely left out for want of room. in treating each style the object has not been to mention every phase of its development, still less every building, but rather to describe the more prominent buildings with some approach to completeness. it is true that much is left unnoticed, for which the student who wishes to pursue the subject further will have to refer to the writings specially devoted to the period or country. but it has been possible to describe a considerable number of typical examples, and to do so in such a manner as, it is hoped, may make some impression on the reader's mind. had notices of a much greater number of buildings been compressed into the same space, each must have been so condensed that the volume, though useful as a catalogue for reference, would have, in all probability, become uninteresting, and consequently unserviceable to the class of readers for whom it is intended. as far as possible mere matters of opinion have been excluded from this handbook. a few of the topics which it has been necessary to approach are subjects on which high authorities still more or less disagree, and it has been impossible to avoid these in every instance; but, as far as practicable, controverted points have been left untouched. controversy is unsuited to the province of such a manual as this, in which it is quite sufficient for the authors to deal with the ascertained facts of the history which they have to unfold. it is not proposed here to refer to the authorities for the various statements made in these pages, but to this rule it is impossible to avoid making one exception. the writers feel bound to acknowledge how much they, in common with all students of the art, are indebted to the patient research, the profound learning, and the admirable skill in marshalling facts displayed by mr. fergusson in his various writings. had it been possible to devote a larger space to eastern architecture, pagan and mohammedan, the indebtedness to him, in a field where he stands all but alone, must of necessity have been still greater. the earlier chapters of this volume were chiefly written by mr. slater, who very kindly consented to assist in the preparation of it; but i am of course, as editor, jointly responsible with him for the contents. the introduction, chapters v. to vii., and from chapter x. to the end, have been written by myself: and if our work shall in any degree assist the reader to understand, and stimulate him to admire, the architecture of the far-off past; above all, if it enables him to appreciate our vast indebtedness to greek art, and in a lesser degree to the art of other nations who have occupied the stage of the world, the aim which the writers have kept in view will not have been missed. t. roger smith. _university college, london._ _may, 1882._ [illustration: frieze from church at denkendorf.] contents. chapter i. page introduction. 1 chapter ii. egyptian architecture. pyramids. tombs. temples. analysis of buildings. 14 chapter iii. west asiatic architecture. babylonian. assyrian. persian. analysis of buildings. 43 chapter iv. oriental architecture. hindu. chinese and japanese. 64 chapter v. greek architecture. buildings of the doric order. 80 chapter vi. buildings of the ionic and corinthian orders. 102 chapter vii. analysis of greek architecture. the plan. the walls. the roof. the openings. the columns. the ornaments. architectural character. 117 chapter viii. etruscan and roman architecture. historical and general sketch. 138 chapter ix. the buildings of the romans. basilicas. theatres and amphitheatres. baths (thermæ). bridges and aqueducts. commemorative monuments. domestic architecture. 147 chapter x. analysis of roman architecture. the plan. the walls. the roofs. the openings. the columns. the ornaments. architectural character. 182 chapter xi. early christian architecture. basilicas in rome and italy. 198 chapter xii. byzantine architecture. 210 chapter xiii. romanesque architecture. 222 chapter xiv. christian round-arched architecture. analysis of basilican, byzantine, and romanesque. 240 chapter xv. mohammedan architecture. egypt, syria and palestine, sicily and spain, persia and india. 252 list of illustrations. page the parthenon at athens, as it was in the time of pericles, _circa_ b.c. 438. _frontispiece_ atrium of a roman mansion. (_on title-page_) frieze from church at denkendorf. x rock-cut tomb at myra, in lycia. imitation of timber construction in stone. xviii the temple of vesta at tivoli. xxiv 1. opening spanned by a lintel. arch of the goldsmiths, rome. 3 2. opening spanned by a semicircular arch. roman triumphal arch at pola. 4 3. openings spanned by pointed arches. interior of st. front, périgueux, france. 5 4. temple of zeus at olympia. restored according to adler. 8 5. part of the exterior of the colosseum, rome. 10 6. timber architecture. church at borgund. 12 7. an egyptian cornice. 14 8. section across the great pyramid (of cheops or suphis). 17 9. ascending gallery in the great pyramid. 19 10. the sepulchral chamber in the pyramid of cephren at gizeh. 19 11. the construction of the king's chamber in the great pyramid. 19 12. imitation of timber construction in stone, from a tomb at memphis. 21 13. imitation of timber construction in stone, from a tomb at memphis. 21 14. plan and section of the tomb at beni-hassan. 23 15. rock-cut façade of the tomb at beni-hassan. 24 16. ground-plan of the temple at karnak. 26 17. the hypostyle hall at karnak, showing the clerestory. 27 18. entrance to an egyptian temple, showing the pylons. 27 19. plan of the temple at edfou. 30 20. example of one of the mammisi at edfou. 30 21. ground-plan of the rock-cut temple at ipsamboul. 31 22. section of the rock-cut temple at ipsamboul. 31 23. egyptian column with lotus bud capital. 33 24. egyptian column with lotus flower capital. 33 25. palm capital. 34 26. sculptured capital. 34 27. isis capital from denderah. 35 28. fanciful column from painted decoration at thebes. 35 29. crowning cornice and bead. 36 30. painted decoration from thebes. 42 31. sculptured ornament at nineveh. 43 32. palace at khorsabad. built by king sargon about 710 b.c. 48 33. pavement from khoyunjik. 51 34. proto-ionic column from assyrian sculpture. 53 34a. proto-ionic capital from assyrian sculpture. 53 34b. proto-corinthian capital from assyrian sculpture. 53 35. tomb of cyrus. 54 35a. general plan of the buildings at persepolis. 56 35b. column from persepolis--east and west porticoes. 58 36. column from persepolis--north portico. 58 37. the rock-cut tomb of darius. 60 38. sculptured ornament at allahabad. 64 39. dagoba from ceylon. 66 40. chaitya near poona. 68 41. the kylas at ellora. a rock-cut monument. 69 42. plan of the kylas at ellora. 70 43. vimana from manasara. 71 44. bracket capital. 73 45. column from ajunta. 73 46. column from ellora. 73 47. column from ajunta. 73 48. a small pagoda. 76 49. greek honeysuckle ornament. 80 50. plan of a small greek temple in antis. 82 50a. plan of a small greek temple. 83 51. ancient greek wall of unwrought stone from samothrace. 86 52. plan of the treasury of atreus at mycenæ. 86 52a. section of the treasury of atreus at mycenæ. 86 53. greek doric capital from selinus. 87 53a. greek doric capital from the theseum. 87 53b. greek doric capital from samothrace. 87 54. the ruins of the parthenon at athens. 89 55. plan of the parthenon. 90 56. the roof of a greek doric temple, showing the marble tiles. 91 56a. section of the greek doric temple at pæstum. as restored by bötticher. 92 57. the greek doric order from the theseum. 93 58. plan of a greek doric column. 94 59. the fillets under a greek doric capital. 94 60. capital of a greek doric column from ægina, with coloured decoration. 95 61. section of the entablature of the greek doric order. 96 62. plan, looking up, of part of a greek doric peristyle. 96 63. details of the triglyph. 97 64. details of the mutules. 97 65. elevation and section of the capital of a greek anta, with coloured decoration. 99 66. palmette and honeysuckle. 102 67. shaft of an ionic column, showing the flutes. 103 68. ionic capital. front elevation. 103 69. ionic capital. side elevation. 103 70. the ionic order. from priene, asia minor. 105 71. the ionic order. from the erechtheium, athens. 106 72. north-west view of the erechtheium, in the time of pericles. 107 73. plan of the erechtheium. 108 74. ionic base from the temple of the wingless victory (nikè apteros). 108 75. ionic base mouldings from priene. 108 76. the corinthian order. from the monument of lysicrates at athens. 111 77. corinthian capital from the monument of lysicrates. 112 78. monument of lysicrates, as in the time of pericles. 113 79. capital of an anta from miletus. side view. 114 80. restoration of the greek theatre of segesta. 115 81. capital of an anta from miletus. 117 82. greek doorway, showing cornice. 123 83. greek doorway. front view. (from the erechtheium.) 123 84. the acanthus leaf and stalk. 128 85. the acanthus leaf. 129 86. metope from the parthenon. conflict between a centaur and one of the lapithæ. 130 87. mosaic from the temple of zeus, olympia. 131 88. section of the portico of the erechtheium. 132 89. plan of the portico of the erechtheium, looking up. 132 90. capital of antæ from the erechtheium. 133 91-96. greek ornaments in relief. 134 97-104. greek ornaments in relief. 135 105-110. greek ornaments in colour. 136 111-113. examples of honeysuckle ornament. 137 114. combination of the fret, the egg and dart, the bead and fillet, and the honeysuckle. 137 116-120. examples of the fret. 137 121. elevation of an etruscan temple (restored from descriptions only). 138 122. sepulchre at corneto. 140 123. the cloaca maxima. 142 124. "incantada" in salonica. 147 125. the ionic order from the temple of fortuna virilis, rome. 148 126. roman-corinthian temple at nîmes (maison carrée). probably of the time of hadrian. 150 127. ground-plan of the temple of vesta at tivoli. 151 128. the corinthian order from the temple of vesta at tivoli. 152 129. the temple of vesta at tivoli. plan, looking up, and section of part of the peristyle. 153 130. ground-plan of the basilica ulpia, rome. 155 131. plan of the colosseum, rome. 157 132. the colosseum. section and elevation. 158 133. plan of the principal building, baths of caracalla, rome. 163 134. interior of santa maria degli angeli, rome. 165 135. the pantheon, rome. ground-plan. 166 136. the pantheon. exterior. 167 137. the pantheon. interior. 168 138. the corinthian order from the pantheon. 169 139. the arch of constantine, rome. 172 140. ground-plan of the house of pansa, pompeii. 176 141. ground-plan of the house of the tragic poet, pompeii. 177 142. the atrium of a pompeian house. 178 143. wall decoration from pompeii. 180 144. carving from the forum of nerva, rome. 182 145. roman-corinthian capital and base. from the temple of vesta at tivoli. 188 145a. a roman composite capital. 188 146. part of the theatre of marcellus, rome. showing the combination of columns and arched openings. 190 147. from the ruins of the forum of nerva, rome. showing the use of an attic story. 191 148. from the baths of diocletian, rome. showing a fragmentary entablature at the starting of part of a vault. 192 149. from the palace of diocletian, spalatro. showing an arch springing from a column. 192 150. mouldings and ornaments from various roman buildings. 193 151. roman carving. an acanthus leaf. 194 152. the egg and dart enrichment--roman. 194 153. wall-decoration of (so-called) arabesque character from pompeii. 195 154. decoration in relief and colour of the vault of a tomb in the via latina, near rome. 197 155. basilica church of san miniato, florence. 198 156. interior of a basilica at pompeii. restored, from descriptions by various authors. 200 156a. basilica, or early christian church, of sant' agnese at rome. 202 157. sant' apollinare, ravenna. part of the arcade and apse. 205 158. apse of the basilica of san paolo fuori le mura, rome. 207 158a. frieze from the monastery at fulda. 210 159. church of santa sophia at constantinople. longitudinal section. 212 160. plan of san vitale at ravenna. 216 161. san vitale at ravenna. longitudinal section. 216 162. plan of st. mark's at venice. 217 163. sculptured ornament from the golden door of jerusalem. 219 164. church at turmanin in syria. 220 165. tower of a russian church. 221 166. tower of earl's barton church. 223 167. cathedral at piacenza. 225 168. vaults of the excavated roman baths in the musée de cluny, paris. 227 169. church of st. sernin, toulouse. 228 170. nave arcade at st. sernin, toulouse. 229 171. arches in receding planes at st. sernin, toulouse. 230 172. norman arches in st. peter's church, northampton. 234 173. nave arcade, peterborough cathedral. 236 174. decorative arcade from canterbury cathedral. 237 175. hedingham castle. 238 176. interior of hedingham castle. 239 177. rounded arch of church at gelnhausen. 240 178. plan of the church of the apostles at cologne. 241 179. spire of spires cathedral. 242 180. church at rosheim. upper portion of façade. 244 181. cubic capital. 246 182. doorway at tind, norway. 247 183. mouldings of portal of st. james's church at koesfeld. 248 184. byzantine basket work capital from san michele in affricisco at ravenna. 251 185. arabian capital. from the alhambra. 252 186. horse-shoe arch. 254 187. exterior of santa sophia, constantinople. showing the minarets added after its conversion into a mosque. 255 188. alhambra. hall of the abencerrages. 257 189. mosque "el moyed" at cairo. 259 190. arabian wall decoration. 260 191. plan of the sakhra mosque at jerusalem. 261 192. section of the sakhra mosque at jerusalem. 262 193. doorway in the alhambra. 264 194. grand mosque at delhi, built by shah jehan. 267 195. entrance to a moorish bazaar. 269 [illustration: rock-cut tomb at myra, in lycia. _imitation of timber construction in stone._] glossary. abacus, a square tablet which crowns the capital of the column. acanthus, a plant, the foliage of which was imitated in the ornament of the corinthian capital. agora, the place of general assembly in a greek city. alæ (_lat._ wings), recesses opening out of the atrium of a roman house. alhambra, the palatial fortress of granada (from _al hamra_--the red). ambo, a fitting of early christian churches, very similar to a pulpit. amphitheatre, a roman place of public entertainment in which combats of gladiators, &c., were exhibited. antæ, narrow piers used in connection with columns in greek architecture, for the same purpose as pilasters in roman. arabesque, a style of very light ornamental decoration. archaic, primitive, so ancient as to be rude, or at least extremely simple. archivolt, the series of mouldings which is carried round an arch. arena, the space in the centre of an amphitheatre where the combats, &c., took place. arris, a sharp edge. astragal, a small round moulding. atrium, the main quadrangle in a roman dwelling-house; also the enclosed court in front of an early christian basilican church. baptistery, a building, or addition to a building, erected for the purposes of celebrating the rite of christian baptism. basement, the lowest story of a building, applied also to the lowest part of an architectural design. bas-relief, a piece of sculpture in low relief. bird's-beak, a moulding in greek architecture, used in the capitals of antæ. byzantine, the style of christian architecture which had its origin at byzantium (constantinople). carceres, in the ancient racecourses, goals and starting-points. cartouche, in egyptian buildings, a hieroglyphic signifying the name of a king or other important person. caryatidæ, human figures made to carry an entablature, in lieu of columns in some classic buildings. cavædiam, another name for the atrium of a roman house. cavea, the part of an ancient theatre occupied by the audience. cavetto, in classic architecture, a hollow moulding. cella, the principal, often the only, apartment of a greek or roman temple. chaitya, an indian temple, or hall of assembly. circus, a roman racecourse. cloaca, a sewer or drain. columbarium, literally a pigeon-house--a roman sepulchre built in many compartments. columnar, made with columns. compluvium, the open space or the middle of the roof of a roman atrium. corona, in the cornices of greek and roman architecture, the plain unmoulded feature which is supported by the lower part of the cornice, and on which the crowning mouldings rest. cornice, the horizontal series of mouldings crowning the top of a building or the walls of a room. cuneiform, of letters in assyrian inscriptions, wedge-shaped. cyclopean, applied to masonry constructed of vast stones, usually not hewn or squared. cyma (recta, or reversa), a moulding, in classic architecture, of an outline partly convex and partly concave. dagoba, an indian tomb of conical shape. dentil band, in classic architecture, a series of small blocks resembling square-shaped teeth. domus (_lat._), a house, applied usually to a detached residence. dwarf-wall, a very low wall. echinus, in greek doric architecture, the principal moulding of the capital placed immediately under the abacus. entablature, the superstructure--comprising architrave, frieze and cornice--above the columns in classic architecture. entasis, in the shaft of a column, a curved outline. ephebeum, the large hall in roman baths in which youths practised gymnastic exercises. facia, in classic architecture, a narrow flat band or face. fauces, the passage from the atrium to the peristyle in a roman house. flutes, the small channels which run from top to bottom of the shaft of most columns in classic architecture. forum, the place of general assembly in a roman city, as the agora was in a greek. fresco, painting executed upon a plastered wall while the plaster is still wet. fret, an ornament made up of squares and l-shaped lines, in use in greek architecture. garth, the central space round which a cloister is carried. girder, a beam. grouted, said of masonry or brickwork, treated with liquid mortar to fill up all crevices and interstices. guttæ, small pendent features in greek and roman doric cornices, resembling rows of wooden pegs. hexastyle, of six columns. honeysuckle ornament, a decoration constantly introduced into assyrian and greek architecture, founded upon the flower of the honeysuckle. horse-shoe arch, an arch more than a semicircle, and so wider above than at its springing. hypostyle, literally "under columns," but used to mean filled by columns. impluvium, the space into which the rain fell in the centre of the atrium of a roman house. insula, a block of building surrounded on all sides by streets, literally an island. intercolumniation, the space between two columns. keyed, secured closely by interlocking. kibla, the most sacred part of a mohammedan mosque. lâts, in indian architecture, buddhist inscribed pillars. mammisi, small egyptian temples. mastaba, the most usual form of egyptian tomb. mausoleum, a magnificent sepulchral monument or tomb. from the tomb erected to mausolus, by his wife artemisia, at halicarnassus, 379 b.c. metopes, literally faces, the square spaces between triglyphs in doric architecture; occasionally applied to the sculptures fitted into these spaces. minaret, a slender lofty tower, a usual appendage of a mohammedan mosque. monolith, of one stone. mortise, a hollow in a stone or timber to receive a corresponding projection. mosque, a mohammedan place of worship. mutule, a feature in a classic doric cornice, somewhat resembling the end of a timber beam. narthex, in an early christian church, the space next the entrance. obelisk, a tapering stone pillar, a feature of egyptian architecture. opus alexandrinum, the mosaic work used for floors in byzantine and romanesque churches. ovolo, a moulding, the profile of which resembles the outline of an egg, used in classic architecture. pendentive, a feature in byzantine and other domed buildings, employed to enable a circular dome to stand over a square space. peristylar, or peripteral, with columns all round. peristylium, or peristyle, in a roman house, the inner courtyard; also any space or enclosure with columns all round it. piscina, a small basin usually executed in stone and placed within a sculptured niche, fixed at the side of an altar in a church, with a channel to convey away the water poured into it. polychromy, the use of decorative colours. precincts, the space round a church or religious house, usually enclosed with a wall. presbytery, the eastern part of a church, the chancel. profile (of a moulding), the outline which it would present if cut across at right angles to its length. pronaos, the front portion or vestibule to a temple. propylæa, in greek architecture, a grand portal or state entrance. prothyrum, in a roman house, the porch or entrance. pseudo-peripteral, resembling, but not really being peristylar. pylon, or pro-pylon, the portal or front of an egyptian temple. quadriga, a four-horse chariot. romanesque, the style of christian architecture which was founded on roman work. rotunda, a building circular in plan. sacristy, the part of a church where the treasures belonging to the church are preserved. shinto temples, temples (in japan) devoted to the shinto religion. span, the space over which an arch or a roof extends. spina, the central wall of a roman racecourse. stilted, raised, usually applied to an arch when its centre is above the top of the jambs from which it springs. struts, props. stupa, in indian architecture, a mound or tope. stylobate, a series of steps, usually those leading up to a classic temple. taas, a pagoda. tablinum, in a roman house, the room between the atrium and the peristyle. talar, in assyrian architecture, an open upper story. tenoned, fastened with a projection or tenon. tesselated, made of small squares of material, applied to coarse mosaic work. tetrastyle, with four columns. thermæ, the great bathing establishments of the romans. topes, in indian architecture, artificial mounds. trabeated, constructed with a beam or beams, a term usually employed in contrast to arches. triclinium, in a roman house, the dining-room. triglyph, the channelled feature in the frieze of the doric order. tumuli, mounds, usually sepulchral. typhonia, small egyptian temples. velarium, a great awning. vestibule, the outer hall or ante-room. volutes, in classic architecture, the curled ornaments of the ionic capital. voussoirs, the wedge-shaped stones of which arches are made. n.b. for the explanation of other technical words found in this volume, consult the glossary given with the companion volume on gothic and renaissance architecture. [illustration: the temple of vesta at tivoli.] [illustration] ancient architecture. chapter i. introduction. architecture may be described as building at its best, and when we talk of the architecture of any city or country we mean its best, noblest, or most beautiful buildings; and we imply by the use of the word that these buildings possess merits which entitle them to rank as works of art. the architecture of the civilised world can be best understood by considering the great buildings of each important nation separately. the features, ornaments, and even forms of ancient buildings differed just as the speech, or at any rate the literature, differed. each nation wrote in a different language, though the books may have been devoted to the same aims; and precisely in the same way each nation built in a style of its own, even if the buildings may have been similar in the purposes they had to serve. the division of the subject into the architecture of egypt, greece, rome, &c., is therefore the most natural one to follow. but certain broad groups, rising out of peculiarities of a physical nature, either in the buildings themselves or in the conditions under which they were erected, can hardly fail to be suggested by a general view of the subject. such, for example, is the fourfold division to which the reader's attention will now be directed. all buildings, it will be found, can be classed under one or other of four great divisions, each distinguished by a distinct mode of building, and each also occupying a distinct place in history. the first series embraces the buildings of the egyptians, the persians, and the greeks, and was brought to a pitch of the highest perfection in greece during the age of pericles. all the buildings erected in these countries during the many centuries which elapsed from the earliest egyptian to the latest greek works, however they may have differed in other respects, agree in this--that the openings, be they doors, or be they spaces between columns, were spanned by beams of wood or lintels of stone (fig. 1). hence this architecture is called architecture of the beam, or, in more formal language, trabeated architecture. this mode of covering spaces required that in buildings of solid masonry, where stone or marble lintels were employed, the supports should not be very far apart, and this circumstance led to the frequent use of rows of columns. the architecture of this period is accordingly sometimes called columnar, but it has no exclusive claim to the epithet; the column survived long after the exclusive use of the beam had been superseded, and the term columnar must accordingly be shared with buildings forming part of the succeeding series. [illustration: fig. 1.--opening spanned by a lintel. arch of the goldsmiths, rome.] the second great group of buildings is that in which the semicircular arch is introduced into construction, and used either together with the beam, or, as mostly happened, instead of the beam, to span the openings (fig. 2). this use of the arch began with the assyrians, and it reappeared in the works of the early etruscans. the round-arched series of styles embraces the buildings of the romans from their earliest beginnings to their decay; it also includes the two great schools of christian architecture which were founded by the western and the eastern church respectively,--namely, the romanesque, which, originating in rome, extended itself through western europe, and lasted till the time of the crusades, and the byzantine, which spread from constantinople over all the countries in which the eastern (or greek) church flourished, and which continues to our own day. [illustration: fig. 2.--opening spanned by a semicircular arch. roman triumphal arch at pola.] [illustration: fig. 3.--openings spanned by pointed arches. interior of st. front, périgueux, france.] the third group of buildings is that in which the pointed arch is employed instead of the semicircular arch to span the openings (fig. 3). it began with the rise of mohammedan architecture in the east, and embraces all the buildings of western europe, from the time of the first crusade to the revival of art in the fifteenth century. this great series of buildings constitutes what is known as pointed, or, more commonly, as gothic architecture. the fourth group consists of the buildings erected during or since the renaissance (_i.e._ revival) period, and is marked by a return to the styles of past ages or distant countries for the architectural features and ornaments of buildings; and by that luxury, complexity, and ostentation which, with other qualities, are well comprehended under the epithet modern. this group of buildings forms what is known as renaissance architecture, and extends from the epoch of the revival of letters in the fifteenth century, to the present day. the first two of these styles--namely, the architecture of the beam, and that of the round arch--are treated of in this little volume. they occupy those remote times of pagan civilisation which may be conveniently included under the broad term ancient; and the better known work of the greeks and romans--the classic nations--and they extend over the time of the establishment of christianity down to the close of that dreary period not incorrectly termed the dark ages. ancient, classic, and early christian architecture is accordingly an appropriate title for the main subjects of this volume, though, for the sake of convenience, some notices of oriental architecture have been added. gothic and renaissance architecture form the subjects of the companion volume. it may excite surprise that what appears to be so small a difference as that which exists between a beam, a round arch, or a pointed arch, should be employed in order to distinguish three of the four great divisions. but in reality this is no pedantic or arbitrary grouping. the mode in which spaces or openings are covered lies at the root of most of the essential differences between styles of architecture, and the distinction thus drawn is one of a real, not of a fanciful nature. every building when reduced to its elements, as will be done in both these volumes, may be considered as made up of its (1) floor or plan, (2) walls, (3) roof, (4) openings, (5) columns, and (6) ornaments, and as marked by its distinctive (7) character, and the student must be prepared to find that the openings are by no means the least important of these elements. in fact, the moment the method of covering openings was changed, it would be easy to show, did space permit, that all the other elements, except the ornaments, were directly affected by the change, and the ornaments indirectly; and we thus find such a correspondence between this index feature and the entire structure as renders this primary division a scientific though a very broad one. the contrast between the trabeated style and the arched style may be well understood by comparing the illustration of the parthenon which forms our frontispiece, or that of the great temple of zeus at olympia (fig. 4), with the exterior of the colosseum at rome (fig. 5), introduced here for the purposes of this comparison. [illustration: fig. 4.--temple of zeus at olympia. restored according to adler.] a division of buildings into such great series as these cannot, however, supersede the more obvious historical and geographical divisions. the architecture of every ancient country was partly the growth of the soil, _i.e._ adapted to the climate of the country, and the materials found there, and partly the outcome of the national character of its inhabitants, and of such influences as race, colonisation, commerce, or conquest brought to bear upon them. these influences produced strong distinctions between the work of different peoples, especially before the era of the roman empire. since that period of universal dominion all buildings and styles have been influenced more or less by roman art. we accordingly find the buildings of the most ancient nations separated from each other by strongly marked lines of demarcation, but those since the era of the empire showing a considerable resemblance to one another. the circumstance that the remains of those buildings only which received the greatest possible attention from their builders have come down to us from any remote antiquity, has perhaps served to accentuate the differences between different styles, for these foremost buildings were not intended to serve the same purpose in all countries. nothing but tombs and temples have survived in egypt. palaces only have been rescued from the decay of assyrian and persian cities; and temples, theatres, and places of public assembly are the chief, almost the only remains of architecture in greece. a strong contrast between the buildings of different ancient nations rises also from the differing point of view for which they were designed. thus, in the tombs and, to a large extent, the temples of the egyptians, we find structures chiefly planned for internal effect; that is to say, intended to be seen by those admitted to the sacred precincts, but only to a limited extent appealing to the admiration of those outside. the buildings of the greeks, on the other hand, were chiefly designed to please those who examined them from without, and though no doubt some of them, the theatres especially, were from their very nature planned for interior effect, by far the greatest works which greek art produced were the exteriors of the temples. [illustration: fig. 5.--part of the exterior of the colosseum, rome. (now in ruins.)] the works of the romans, and, following them, those of almost all western christian nations, were designed to unite external and internal effect; but in many cases external was evidently most sought after, and, in the north of europe, many expedients--such, for example, as towers, high-pitched roofs, and steeples--were introduced into architecture with the express intention of increasing external effect. on the other hand, the eastern styles, both mohammedan and christian, especially when practised in sunny climates, show in many cases a comparative disregard of external effect, and that their architects lavished most of their resources on the interiors of their buildings. passing allusions have been made to the influence of climate on architecture; and the student whose attention has been once called to this subject will find many interesting traces of this influence in the designs of buildings erected in various countries. where the power of the sun is great, flat terraced roofs, which help to keep buildings cool, and thick walls are desirable. sufficient light is admitted by small windows far apart. overhanging eaves, or horizontal cornices, are in such a climate the most effective mode of obtaining architectural effect, and accordingly in the styles of all southern peoples these peculiarities appear. the architecture of egypt, for example, exhibited them markedly. where the sun is still powerful, but not so extreme, the terraced roof is generally replaced by a sloping roof, steep enough to throw off water, and larger openings are made for light and air; but the horizontal cornice still remains the most appropriate means of gaining effects of light and shade. this description will apply to the architecture of italy and greece. when, however, we pass to northern countries, where snow has to be encountered, where light is precious, and where the sun is low in the heavens for the greater part of the day, a complete change takes place. roofs become much steeper, so as to throw off snow. the horizontal cornice is to a large extent disused, but the buttress, the turret, and other vertical features, from which a level sun will cast shadows, begin to appear; and windows are made numerous and spacious. this description applies to gothic architecture generally--in other words, to the styles which rose in northern europe. [illustration: fig. 6.--timber architecture. church at borgund.] the influence of materials on architecture is also worth notice. where granite, which is worked with difficulty, is the material obtainable, architecture has invariably been severe and simple; where soft stone is obtainable, exuberance of ornament makes its appearance, in consequence of the material lending itself readily to the carver's chisel. where, on the other hand, marble is abundant and good, refinement is to be met with, for no other building material exists in which very delicate mouldings or very slight or slender projections may be employed with the certainty that they will be effective. where stone is scarce, brick buildings, with many arches, roughly constructed cornices and pilasters, and other peculiarities both of structure and ornamentation, make their appearance, as, for example, in lombardy and north germany. where materials of many colours abound, as is the case, for example, in the volcanic districts of france, polychromy is sought as a means of ornamentation. lastly, where timber is available, and stone and brick are both scarce, the result is an architecture of which both the forms and the ornamentation are entirely dissimilar to those proper to buildings of stone, marble, or brick, as may be seen by a glance at our illustration of an early scandinavian church built of timber (fig. 6), which presents forms appropriate to a timber building as being easily constructed of wood, but which would hardly be suitable to any other material whatever. [illustration: fig. 7.--egyptian cornice.] chapter ii. egyptian architecture. the origin of egyptian architecture, like that of egyptian history, is lost in the mists of antiquity. the remains of all, or almost all, other styles of architecture enable us to trace their rude beginnings, their development, their gradual progress up to a culminating point, and thence their slow but certain decline; but the earliest remains of the constructions of the egyptians show their skill as builders at the height of its perfection, their architecture highly developed, and their sculpture at its very best, if not indeed at the commencement of its decadence; for some of the statuary of the age of the pyramids was never surpassed in artistic effect by the work of a later era. it is impossible for us to conceive of such scientific skill as is evidenced in the construction of the great pyramids, or such artistic power as is displayed on the walls of tombs of the same date, or in the statues found in them, as other than the outcome of a vast accumulation of experience, the attainment of which must imply the lapse of very long periods of time since the nation which produced such works emerged from barbarism. it is natural, where so remote an antiquity is in question, that we should feel a great difficulty, if not an impossibility, in fixing exact dates, but the whole tendency of modern exploration and research is rather to push back than to advance the dates of egyptian chronology, and it is by no means impossible that the dynasties of manetho, after being derided as apocryphal for centuries, may in the end be accepted as substantially correct. manetho was an egyptian priest living in the third century b.c., who wrote a history of his country, which he compiled from the archives of the temples. his work itself is lost, but josephus quotes extracts from it, and eusebius and julius africanus reproduced his lists, in which the monarchs of egypt are grouped into thirty-four dynasties. these, however, do not agree with one another, and in many cases it is difficult to reconcile them with the records displayed in the monuments themselves. the remains with which we are acquainted indicate four distinct periods of great architectural activity in egyptian history, viz.: (1) the period of the fourth dynasty, when the great pyramids were erected (probably 3500 to 3000 b.c.); (2) the period of the twelfth dynasty, to which belong the remains at beni-hassan; (3) the period of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, when thebes was in its glory, which is attested by the ruins of luxor and karnak; and (4) the ptolemaic period, of which there are the remains at denderah, edfou, and philæ. the monuments that remain are almost exclusively tombs and temples. the tombs are, generally speaking, all met with on the east or right bank of the nile: among them must be classed those grandest and oldest monuments of egyptian skill, the pyramids, which appear to have been all designed as royal burying-places. a large number of pyramids have been discovered, but those of gizeh, near cairo, are the largest and the best known, and also probably the oldest which can be authenticated.[1] the three largest pyramids are those of cheops, cephren, and mycerinus at gizeh (or, as the names are more correctly written, suphis, sensuphis, and moscheris or mencheris). these monarchs all belonged to the fourth dynasty, and the most probable date to be assigned to them is about 3000 b.c. the pyramid of suphis is the largest, and is the one familiarly known as the great pyramid; it has a square base, the side of which is 760 feet long,[2] a height of 484 feet, and an area of 577,600 square feet. in this pyramid the angle of inclination of the sloping sides to the base is 51° 51', but in no two pyramids is this angle the same. there can be no doubt that these huge monuments were erected each as the tomb of an individual king, whose efforts were directed towards making it everlasting, and the greatest pains were taken to render the access to the burial chamber extremely hard to discover. this accounts for the vast disproportion between the lavish amount of material used for the pyramid and the smallness of the cavity enclosed in it (fig. 8). the material employed was limestone cased with syenite (granite from syene), and the internal passages were lined with granite. the granite of the casing has entirely disappeared, but that employed as linings is still in its place, and so skilfully worked that it would not be possible to introduce even a sheet of paper between the joints. [illustration: fig. 8.--section across the great pyramid (of cheops or suphis).] the entrance d to this pyramid of suphis was at a height of 47 ft. 6 in. above the base, and, as was almost invariably the case, on the north face; from the entrance a passage slopes downward at an angle of 26° 27' to a chamber cut in the rock at a depth of about 90 feet below the base of the pyramid. this chamber seems to have been intended as a blind, as it was not the place for the deposition of the corpse. from the point in the above described passage--marked a on our illustration of this pyramid--another gallery starts upwards, till it reaches the point c, from which a horizontal passage leads to another small chamber. this is called the queen's chamber, but no reason has been discovered for the name. from this point c the gallery continues upwards till, in the heart of the pyramid, the royal chamber, b, is reached. the walls of these chambers and passages are lined with masonry executed in the hardest stone (granite), and with an accuracy of fitting and a truth of surface that can hardly be surpassed. extreme care seems to have been taken to prevent the great weight overhead from crushing in the galleries and the chamber. the gallery from c upwards is of the form shown in fig. 9, where each layer of stones projects slightly beyond the one underneath it. fig. 11 is a section of the chamber itself, and the succession of small chambers shown one above the other was evidently formed for the purpose of distributing the weight of the superincumbent mass. from the point c a narrow well leads almost perpendicularly downwards to a point nearly at the bottom of the first-mentioned gallery; and the purpose to be served by this well was long a subject of debate. the probability is that, after the corpse had been placed in its chamber, the workmen completely blocked up the passage from a to c by allowing large blocks of granite to slide down it, these blocks having been previously prepared and deposited in the larger gallery; the men then let themselves down the well, and by means of the lower gallery made their exit from the pyramid. the entrances to the chamber and to the pyramid itself were formed by huge blocks of stone which exactly fitted into grooves prepared for them with the most beautiful mathematical accuracy. the chief interest attaching to the pyramids lies in their extreme antiquity, and the scientific method of their construction; for their effect upon the spectator is by no means proportionate to their immense mass and the labour bestowed upon them. [illustration: fig. 9.--ascending gallery in the great pyramid.] [illustration: fig. 10.--the sepulchral chamber in the pyramid of cephren at gizeh.] [illustration: fig. 11.--the construction of the king's chamber in the great pyramid.] in the neighbourhood of the pyramids are found a large number of tombs which are supposed to be those of private persons. their form is generally that of a _mastaba_ or truncated pyramid with sloping walls, and their construction is evidently copied from a fashion of wooden architecture previously existing. the same idea of making an everlasting habitation for the body prevailed as in the case of the pyramids, and stone was therefore the material employed; but the builders seem to have desired to indulge in a decorative style, and as they were totally unable to originate a legitimate stone architecture, we find carved in stone, rounded beams as lintels, grooved posts, and--most curious of all--roofs that are an almost exact copy of the early timber huts when unsquared baulks of timber were laid across side by side to form a covering. figs. 12 and 13 show this kind of stone-work, which is peculiar to the old dynasties, and seems to have had little influence upon succeeding styles. a remarkable feature of these early private tombs consists in the paintings with which the walls are decorated, and which vividly portray the ordinary every-day occupations carried on during his lifetime by the person who was destined to be the inmate of the tomb. these paintings are of immense value in enabling us to form an accurate idea of the life of the people at this early age. [illustration: fig. 12.--imitation of timber construction in stone, from a tomb at memphis.] [illustration: fig. 13.--imitation of timber construction in stone, from a tomb at memphis.] it may possibly be open to doubt whether the dignified appellation of architecture should be applied to buildings of the kind we have just been describing; but when we come to the series of remains of the twelfth dynasty at beni-hassan, in middle egypt, we meet with the earliest known examples of that most interesting feature of all subsequent styles--the column. whether the idea of columnar architecture originated with the necessities of quarrying--square piers being left at intervals to support the superincumbent mass of rock as the quarry was gradually driven in--or whether the earliest stone piers were imitations of brickwork or of timber posts, we shall probably never be able to determine accurately, though the former supposition seems the more likely. we have here monuments of a date 1400 years anterior to the earliest known greek examples, with splendid columns, both exterior and interior, which no reasonable person can doubt are the prototypes of the greek doric order. fig. 14 is a plan with a section, and fig. 15 an exterior view, of one of these tombs, which, it will be seen, consisted of a portico, a chamber with its roof supported by columns, and a small space at the farther end in which is formed the opening of a sloping passage or well, at the bottom of which the vault for the reception of the body was constructed. the walls of the large chamber are lavishly decorated with scenes of every-day life, and it has even been suggested that these places were not erected originally as tombs, but as dwelling-places, which after death were appropriated as sepulchres. [illustration: fig. 14.--plan and section of the tomb at beni-hassan. section.] the columns are surmounted by a small square slab, technically called an abacus, and heavy square beams or architraves span the spaces between the columns, while the roof between the architraves has a slightly segmental form. the tombs of the later period, viz. of the eighteenth and nineteenth dynasties, are very different from those of the twelfth dynasty, and present few features of architectural interest, though they are remarkable for their vast extent and the variety of form of their various chambers and galleries. they consist of a series of chambers excavated in the rock, and it appears certain that the tomb was commenced on the accession of each monarch, and was driven farther and farther into the rock during the continuance of his reign till his death, when all work abruptly ceased. all the chambers are profusely decorated with paintings, but of a kind very different from those of the earlier dynasties. instead of depicting scenes of ordinary life, all the paintings refer to the supposed life after death, and are thus of very great value as a means of determining the religious opinions of the egyptians at this time. one of the most remarkable of these tombs is that of manephthah or sethi i., at bab-el-molouk, and known as belzoni's tomb, as it was discovered by him; from it was taken the alabaster sarcophagus now in the soane museum in lincoln's inn fields. to this relic a new interest is given by the announcement, while these pages are passing through the press, of the discovery of the mummy of this very manephthah, with thirty-eight other royal mummies, in the neighbourhood of thebes. [illustration: fig. 15.--rock-cut façade of tomb at beni-hassan.] of the ptolemaic period no tombs, except perhaps a few at alexandria, are known to exist. temples. it is very doubtful whether any remains of temples of the time of the fourth dynasty--_i.e._ contemporaneous with the pyramids--exist. one, constructed on a most extraordinary plan, was supposed to have been discovered about a quarter of a century ago, and it was described by professor donaldson at the royal institute of british architects in 1861, but later egyptologists rather incline to the belief that this was a tomb and not a temple, as in one of the chambers of the interior a number of compartments were discovered one above the other which were apparently intended for the reception of bodies. this singular building is close to the great sphinx; its plan is cruciform, and there are in the interior a number of rectangular piers of granite supporting very simple architraves, but there are no means of determining what kind of roof covered it in. the walls seem to have been faced on the interior with polished slabs of granite or alabaster, but no sculpture or hieroglyphic inscriptions were found on them to explain the purpose of the building. leaving this building--which is of a type quite unique--out of the question, egyptian temples can be generally classed under two heads: (1) the large principal temples, and (2) the small subsidiary ones called typhonia or mammisi. both kinds of temple vary little, if at all, in plan from the time of the twelfth dynasty down to the roman dominion. [illustration: fig. 16.--ground-plan of the palace at karnak.] the large temples consist almost invariably of an entrance gate flanked on either side by a large mass of masonry, called a pylon, in the shape of a truncated pyramid (fig. 18). the axis of the ground-plan of these pylons is frequently obliquely inclined to the axis of the plan of the temple itself; and indeed one of the most striking features of egyptian temples is the lack of regularity and symmetry in their construction. the entrance gives access to a large courtyard, generally ornamented with columns: beyond this, and occasionally approached by steps, is another court, smaller than the first, but much more splendidly adorned with columns and colossi; beyond this again, in the finest examples, occurs what is called the hypostyle hall, _i.e._ a hall with two rows of lofty columns down the centre, and at the sides other rows, more or less in number, of lower columns; the object of this arrangement being that the central portion might be lighted by a kind of clerestory above the roof of the side portions. fig. 17 shows this arrangement. this hypostyle hall stood with its greatest length transverse to the general axis of the temple, so that it was entered from the side. beyond it were other chambers, all of small size, the innermost being generally the sanctuary, while the others were probably used as residences by the priests. homer's hundred-gated thebes, which was for so long the capital of egypt, offers at karnak and luxor the finest remains of temples; what is left of the former evidently showing that it must have been one of the most magnificent buildings ever erected in any country. fig. 16 is a plan of the temple of karnak, which was about 1200 feet long and 348 feet wide. a is the entrance between the two enormous pylons giving access to a large courtyard, in which is a small detached temple, and another larger one breaking into the courtyard obliquely. a gateway between a second pair of pylons admits to b, the grand hypostyle hall, 334 feet by 167 feet. beyond this are additional gateways with pylons, separated by a sort of gallery, c, in which were two gigantic obelisks; d, another grand hall, is called the hall of the caryatides, and beyond is the hall of the eighteen columns, through which access is gained to a number of smaller halls grouped round the central chamber e. beyond this is a large courtyard, in the centre of which stood the original sanctuary, which has disappeared down to its foundations, nothing but some broken shafts of columns remaining. at the extreme east is another hall supported partly by columns and partly by square piers, and a second series of pillared courts and chambers. the pylons and buildings generally decrease in height as we proceed from the entrance eastwards. this is due to the fact that, the building grew by successive additions, each one more magnificent than the last, all being added on the side from which the temple was entered, leaving the original sanctuary unchanged and undisturbed. [illustration: fig. 17.--the hypostyle hall at karnak, showing the clerestory.] [illustration: fig. 18.--entrance to an egyptian temple, showing the pylons.] besides the buildings shown on the plan there were many other temples to the north, south, and east, entered by pylons and some of them connected together by avenues of sphinxes, obelisks, and colossi, which altogether made up the most wonderful agglomeration of buildings that can be conceived. it must not be imagined that this temple of karnak, together with the series of connected temples is the result, of one clearly conceived plan; on the contrary, just as has been frequently the case with our own cathedrals and baronial halls, alterations were made here and additions there by successive kings one after the other without much regard to connection or congruity, the only feeling that probably influenced them being that of emulation to excel in size and grandeur the erections of their predecessors, as the largest buildings are almost always of latest date. the original sanctuary, or nucleus of the temple, was built by usertesen i., the second or third king of the twelfth dynasty. omenophis, the first king of the shepherd dynasties, built a temple round the sanctuary, which has disappeared. thothmes i. built the hall of the caryatides and commenced the next hall of the eighteen columns, which was finished by thothmes ii. thothmes iii. built that portion surrounding the sanctuary, and he also built the courts on the extreme east. the pylon at c was built by omenophis iii., and formed the façade of the temple before the erection of the grand hall. sethi i. built the hypostyle hall, which had probably been originated by rhamses i., who commenced the pylon west of it. sethi ii. built the small detached temple, and rhamses iii. the intersecting temple. the bubastites constructed the large front court by building walls round it, and the ptolemies commenced the huge western pylon. the colonnade in the centre of the court was erected by tahraka. extensive remains of temples exist at luxor, edfou (fig. 19), and philæ, but it will not be necessary to give a detailed description of them, as, if smaller in size, they are very similar in arrangement to those already described. it should be noticed that all these large temples have the mastaba form, _i.e._ the outer walls are not perpendicular on the outside, but slope inwards as they rise, thus giving the buildings an air of great solidity. [illustration: fig. 19.--plan of the temple at edfou.] [illustration: fig. 20.--plan of one of the mammisi at edfou.] the mammisi exhibit quite a different form of temple from those previously described, and are generally found in close proximity to the large temples. they are generally erected on a raised terrace, rectangular on plan and nearly twice as long as it was wide, approached by a flight of steps opposite the entrance; they consist of oblong buildings, usually divided by a wall into two chambers, and surrounded on all sides by a colonnade composed of circular columns or square piers placed at intervals, and the whole is roofed in. a dwarf wall is frequently found between the piers and columns, about half the height of the shaft. these temples differ from the larger ones in having their outer walls perpendicular. fig. 20 is a plan of one of these small temples, and no one can fail to remark the striking likeness to some of the greek temples; there can indeed be little doubt that this nation borrowed the peristylar form of its temples from the ancient egyptians. [illustration: fig. 21.--ground-plan of the rock-cut temple at ipsamboul.] [illustration: fig. 22.--section of the rock-cut temple at ipsamboul.] although no rock-cut temples have been discovered in egypt proper, nubia is very rich in such remains. the arrangement of these temples hewn out of the rock is closely analogous to that of the detached ones. figs. 21 and 22 show a plan and section of the largest of the rock-cut temples at ipsamboul, which consists of two extensive courts, with smaller chambers beyond, all connected by galleries. the roof of the large court is supported by eight huge piers, the faces of which are sculptured into the form of standing colossi, and the entrance is adorned by four splendid seated colossi, 68 ft. 6 in. high. as was the case with the detached temples, it will be noticed that the height of the various chambers decreases towards the extremity of the excavation. [illustration: fig. 23.--egyptian column with lotus bud capital. plan.] [illustration: fig. 24.--egyptian column with lotus flower capital.] the constructional system pursued by the egyptians, which consisted in roofing over spaces with large horizontal blocks of stone, led of necessity to a columnar arrangement in the interiors, as it was impossible to cover large areas without frequent upright supports. hence the column became the chief means of obtaining effect, and the varieties of form which it exhibits are very numerous. the earliest form is that at beni-hassan, which has already been noticed as the prototype of the doric order. figs. 23 and 24 are views of two columns of a type more commonly employed. in these the sculptors appear to have imitated as closely as possible the forms of the plant-world around them, as is shown in fig. 23, which represents a bundle of reeds or lotus stalks, and is the earliest type known of the lotus column, which was afterwards developed into a number of forms, one of which will be observed on turning to our section of the hypostyle hall at karnak (fig. 17), as employed for the lateral columns. the stalks are bound round with several belts, and the capital is formed by the slightly bulging unopened bud of the flower, above which is a small abacus with the architrave resting upon it: the base is nothing but a low circular plinth. the square piers also have frequently a lotus bud carved on them. at the bottom of the shaft is frequently found a decoration imitated from the sheath of leaves from which the plant springs. as a further development of this capital we have the opened lotus flower of a very graceful bell-like shape, ornamented with a similar sheath-like decoration to that at the base of the shaft (fig. 24). this decoration was originally painted only, not sculptured, but at a later period we find these sheaths and buds worked in stone. even more graceful is the palm capital, which also had its leading lines of decoration painted on it at first (fig. 25), and afterwards sculptured (fig. 26). at a later period of the style we find the plant forms abandoned, and capitals were formed of a fantastic combination of the head of isis with a pylon resting upon it (fig. 27). considerable ingenuity was exercised in adapting the capitals of the columns to the positions in which they were placed: thus in the hypostyle halls, the lofty central row of columns generally had capitals of the form shown in fig. 24, as the light here was sufficient to illuminate thoroughly the underside of the overhanging bell; but those columns which were farther removed from the light had their capitals of the unopened bud form, which was narrower at the top than at bottom. in one part of the temple at karnak is found a very curious capital resembling the open lotus flower inverted. the proportion which the height of egyptian columns bears to their diameter differs so much in various cases that there was evidently no regular standard adhered to, but as a general rule they have a heavy and massive character. the wall-paintings of the egyptian buildings show many curious forms of columns (fig. 28), but we have no reason for thinking that these fantastic shapes were really executed in stone. [illustration: fig. 25.--palm capital.] [illustration: fig. 26.--sculptured capital.] [illustration: fig. 27.--isis capital from denderah.] [illustration: fig. 28.--fanciful column from painted decoration at thebes.] almost the only sculptured ornaments worked on the exteriors of buildings were the curious astragal or bead at all the angles, and the cornice, which consisted of a very large cavetto, or hollow moulding, surmounted by a fillet. these features are almost invariable from the earliest to the latest period of the style. this cavetto was generally enriched, over the doorways, with an ornament representing a circular boss with a wing at each side of it (fig. 29). one other feature of egyptian architecture which was peculiar to it must be mentioned; namely, the obelisk. obelisks were nearly always erected in pairs in front of the pylons of the temples, and added to the dignity of the entrance. they were invariably monoliths, slightly tapering in outline, carved with the most perfect accuracy; they must have existed originally in very large numbers. not a few of these have been transported to europe, and at least twelve are standing in rome, one is in paris, and one in london. [illustration: fig. 29.--crowning cornice and bead.] the most striking features, and the most artistic, in the decoration of egyptian buildings, are the mural paintings and sculptured pictures, which are found in the most lavish profusion, and which exhibit the highest skill in conventionalising the human figure and other objects.[3] tombs and temples, columns and obelisks are completely covered with graphic representations of peaceful home pursuits, warlike expeditions and battle scenes, and--though not till a late period--descriptions of ritual and mythological delineations of the supposed spirit-world which the soul has entered after death. these pictures, together with the hieroglyphic inscriptions--which are in themselves a series of pictures--not only relieve the bare wall surface, but, what is far more important, enable us to realise the kind of existence which was led by this ancient people; and as in nearly every case the cartouche (or symbol representing the name) of the monarch under whose reign the building was erected was added, we should be able to fix the dates of the buildings with exactness, were the chronology of the kings made out beyond doubt. the following description of the manner in which the egyptian paintings and sculptures were executed--from the pen of owen jones--will be read with interest:--"the wall was first chiselled as smooth as possible, the imperfections of the stone were filled up with cement or plaster, and the whole was rubbed smooth and covered with a coloured wash; lines were then ruled perpendicularly and horizontally with red colour, forming squares all over the wall corresponding with the proportions of the figure to be drawn upon it. the subjects of the painting and of the hieroglyphics were then drawn on the wall with a red line, most probably by the priest or chief scribe, or by some inferior artist, from a document divided into similar squares; then came the chief artist, who went over every figure and hieroglyphic with a black line, and a firm and steady hand, giving expression to each curve, deviating here and confirming there the red line. the line thus traced was then followed by the sculptor. the next process was to paint the figure in the prescribed colours." although egyptian architecture was essentially a trabeated style,--that is to say, a style in which beams or lintels were usually employed to cover openings,--there is strong ground for the belief that the builders of that time were acquainted with the nature of the arch. dr. birch mentions a rudimentary arch of the time of the fifth dynasty: at abydos there are also remains of vaulted tombs of the sixth dynasty; and in a tomb in the neighbourhood of the pyramids there is an elementary arch of three stones surmounted by a true arch constructed in four courses. the probability is that true brick arches were built at a very early period, but in the construction of their tombs, where heavy masses of superincumbent masonry or rock had to be supported, the egyptians seem to have been afraid to risk even the remote possibility of their arches decaying; and hence, even when they preserved the form of the arch in masonry, they constructed it with horizontal courses of stones projecting one over the other, and then cut away the lower angles. one dominating idea seems to have influenced them in the whole of their work--_esto perpetua_ was their motto; and though they have been excelled by later peoples in grace and beauty, it is a question whether they have ever been surpassed in the skill with which they adapted their means to the end which they always kept in view. analysis of buildings. _plan._ _floor_ (technically _plan_).--the early rock-cut tombs were, of course, only capable of producing internal effects; their floor presents a series of halls and galleries, varying in size and shape, leading one out of the other, and intended by their contrast or combination to produce architectural effect. to this was added in the later rock-cut tombs a façade to be seen directly in front. much the same account can be given of the disposition of the built temples. they possess one front, which the spectator approaches, and they are disposed so as to produce varied and impressive interiors, but not to give rise to external display. the supports, such as walls, columns, piers, are all very massive and very close together, so that the only wide open spaces are courtyards. the circle, or octagon, or other polygonal forms do not appear in the plans of egyptian buildings; but though all the lines are straight, there is a good deal of irregularity in spacing, walls which face one another are not always parallel, and angles which appear to be right angles very often are not so. the later buildings extend over much space. the adjuncts to these buildings, especially the avenues of sphinxes, are planned so as to produce an air of stately grandeur, and in them some degree of external effect is aimed at. _walls._ the walls are uniformly thick, and often of granite or of stone, though brick is also met with; _e.g._ some of the smaller pyramids are built entirely of brick. in all probability the walls of domestic buildings were to a great extent of brick, and less thick than those of the temples; hence they have all disappeared. the surface of walls, even when of granite, was usually plastered with a thin fine plaster, which was covered by the profuse decoration in colour already alluded to. the walls of the propylons tapered from the base towards the top, and the same thing sometimes occurred in other walls. in almost all cases the stone walls are built of very large blocks, and they show an unrivalled skill in masonry. _roofs._ the roofing which remains is executed entirely in stone, but not arched or vaulted. the rock-cut tombs, however, as has been stated, contain ceilings of an arched shape, and in some cases forms which seem to be an imitation of timber roofing. the roofing of the hypostyle hall at karnak provides an arrangement for admitting light very similar to the clerestory of gothic cathedrals. _openings._ the openings were all covered by a stone lintel, and consequently were uniformly square-headed. the interspaces between columns were similarly covered, and hence egyptian architecture has been, and correctly, classed as the first among the styles of trabeated architecture. window-openings seldom occur. _columns._ the columns have been already described to some extent. they are almost always circular in plan, but the shaft is sometimes channelled. they are for the most part of sturdy proportions, but great grace and elegance are shown in the profile given to shafts and capitals. the design of the capitals especially is full of variety, and admirably adapts forms obtained from the vegetable kingdom. the general effect of the egyptian column, wherever it is used, is that it appears to have, as it really has, a great deal more strength than is required. the fact that the abacus (the square block of stone introduced between the moulded part of the capital and what it carries) is often smaller in width than the diameter of the column aids very much to produce this effect. _ornaments._ mouldings are very rarely employed; in fact, the large bead running up the angles of the pylons, &c., and a heavy hollow moulding doing duty as a cornice, are all that are usually met with. sculpture and carving occur occasionally, and are freely introduced in later works, where we sometimes find statues incorporated into the design of the fronts of temples. decoration in colour, in the shape of hieroglyphic inscriptions and paintings of all sorts, was profusely employed (figs. 27-30), and is executed with a truth of drawing and a beauty of colouring that have never been surpassed. as has been pointed out, almost every object drawn is partly conventionalised, in the most skilful manner, so as to make it fit its place as a piece of a decorative system. _architectural character._ this is gloomy, and to a certain extent forbidding, owing to the heavy walls and piers and columns, and the great masses supported by them; but when in its freshness and quite uninjured by decay or violence, the exquisite colouring of the walls and ceilings and columns must have added a great deal of beauty: this must have very much diminished the oppressive effect inseparable from such massive construction and from the gloomy darkness of many portions of the buildings. it is also noteworthy that the expenditure of materials and labour is greater in proportion to the effect attained than in any other style. the pyramids are the most conspicuous example of this prodigality. before condemning this as a defect in the style, it must be remembered that a stability which should defy enemies, earthquakes, and the tooth of time, was far more aimed at than architectural character; and that, had any mode of construction less lavish of material, and less perfect in workmanship, been adopted, the buildings of egypt might have all disappeared ere this. [illustration: fig. 30.--painted decoration from thebes.] footnotes: [1] some egyptologists incline to the opinion that the pyramid of saqqára is the most ancient, while others think it much more recent than those of gizeh. [2] strictly speaking, the base is not an exact square, the four sides measuring, according to the royal engineers, north, 760 ft. 7·5 in.; south, 761 ft. 8·5 in.; east, 760 ft. 9·5 in.; and west, 764 ft. 1 in. [3] conventionalising may be described as representing a part only of the visible qualities or features of an object, omitting the remainder or very slightly indicating them. a black silhouette portrait is an extreme instance of convention, as it displays absolutely nothing but the outline of a profile. for decorative purposes it is almost always necessary to conventionalise to a greater or less extent whatever is represented. [illustration: fig. 31.--sculptured ornament at nineveh.] chapter iii. west asiatic architecture. the architectural styles of the ancient nations which ruled over the countries of western asia watered by the tigris and the euphrates, from a period about 2200 b.c. down to 330 b.c., are so intimately connected one with another, and so dependent one upon the other, that it is almost impossible to attempt an accurate discrimination between the babylonian, or ancient chaldæan, the assyrian and the persian. a more intelligible idea of the architecture of this long period will be gained by regarding the three styles as modifications and developments of one original style, than by endeavouring to separate them.[4] their sequence can, however, be accurately determined. first comes the old chaldæan period, next the assyrian, during which the great city of nineveh was built, and finally the persian, after cyrus had subdued the older monarchies; and remains exist of all these periods. as to the origin of the chaldæan kingdom, however, all is obscure; and the earliest date which can be fixed with the slightest approach to probability is 2234 b.c., when nimrod is supposed to have founded the old chaldæan dynasty. this seems to have lasted about 700 years, and was then overthrown by a conquering nation of which no record or even tradition remains, the next two and a half centuries being a complete blank till the rise of the great assyrian monarchy about 1290 b.c., which lasted till its destruction by cyrus about 538 b.c. the persian monarchy then endured till the death of alexander the great, in 333 b.c., after which great confusion arose, the empire being broken up among his generals and rapidly falling to pieces. it is only within a comparatively recent period that we have had any knowledge of the architecture of these countries; but the explorations of m. botta, commenced in 1843 and continued by m. place, and those of mr. (now sir a. h.) layard in 1845, combined with the successful attempts of prof. grotefend, prof. lassen, and col. rawlinson at deciphering the cuneiform inscriptions, have disclosed a new world to the architectural student, without which some of the developments of greek architecture must have remained obscure. the authentic remains of buildings of the early chaldæan period are too few and in too ruinous a condition to allow of a reproduction of their architectural features with any certainty. the buildings, whether palaces or temples, appear to have been constructed on terraces, and to have been several storeys in height; and in one instance, at mugheyr, the walls sloped inwards in a similar manner to those of egyptian buildings, a peculiarity which is not met with in other examples of west asiatic architecture. the materials employed were bricks, both sun-dried and kiln-burnt, which seem to have been coated with a vitreous enamel for purposes of interior decoration. fragments of carved limestone were discovered by sir a. h. layard, but the fact that the fragments found have been so few ought not to lead us too hastily to the conclusion that stone was not used as facing for architectural purposes, as after the buildings became ruined the stone would eagerly be sought for and carried away before the brickwork was touched. bitumen seems to have been employed as a cement. although original buildings of this era cannot be found, it has been shown that in all probability we have, in a building of a later date--the birs-i-nimrud--a type of the old babylonian temple. this in its general disposition must have resembled that of the tomb of cyrus, described and figured later on, though on a vastly larger scale. the lowest storey appears to have been an exact square of 272 ft.; each of the higher storeys was 42 ft. less horizontally than the one below it, and was placed 30 ft. back from the front of the storey below it, but equidistant from the two sides, where the platforms were 21 ft. wide. the three upper storeys were 45 ft. in height altogether, the two below these were 26 ft. each, and the height of the lowest is uncertain. the topmost storey probably had a tower on it which enclosed the shrine of the temple. this edifice was for a long time a bone of contention among savants, but colonel rawlinson's investigations have brought to light the fact that it was a temple dedicated to the seven heavenly spheres, viz. saturn, jupiter, mars, the sun, venus, mercury, and the moon, in the order given, starting from the bottom. access to the various platforms was obtained by stairs, and the whole building was surrounded by a walled enclosure. from remains found at wurkha we may gather that the walls of the buildings of this period were covered with elaborate plaster ornaments, and that a lavish use was made of colour in their decoration. of the later assyrian period several ruins of buildings believed to be palaces have been excavated, of which the large palace at khorsabad, the old name of which was hisir-sargon, now a small village between 10 and 11 miles north-east of nineveh, has been the most completely explored, and this consequently is the best adapted to explain the general plan of an assyrian edifice. m. botta, when french consul at mosul, and m. victor place conducted these explorations, and the following details are taken from their works. like all other assyrian palaces, this was reared on a huge artificial mound, the labour of forming which must have been enormous. the reason for the construction of these mounds is not far to seek. just as the chiefs of a mountainous country choose the loftiest peaks for their castles, so in assyria, which was a very flat country, the extra defensive strength of elevated buildings was clearly appreciated; and as these absolute monarchs ruled over a teeming population and had a very large number of slaves, and only had to direct their taskmasters to impress labour whenever they wanted it, no difficulty existed in forming elevated platforms for their palaces. these were frequently close to a river, and it is by no means improbable that this was turned into the excavation from which the earth for the mound was taken, and thus formed a lake or moat as an additional defence. a further reason for these terraces may be found in the fact that in a hot climate buildings erected some 20 or 30 ft. above the level of the plain catch the breezes much more quickly than lower edifices. in the case of khorsabad the terrace was made of sun-dried bricks, about 15·7 in. square and 2 in. thick. these bricks were made of the most carefully prepared clay. the terrace was faced by a retaining wall of coursed masonry, nearly 10 ft. in thickness. on this terrace the palace was built, and it consisted of a series of open courts arranged unsymmetrically, surrounded by state or private apartments, storehouses, stables, &c. great care seems to have been exercised in the accurate orientation of the building, but in rather a peculiar manner. instead of any one façade of the building facing due north, the corners face exactly towards the four points of the compass. the courts were all entered by magnificent portals flanked by gigantic figures, and were approached by flights of steps. fig. 32 is a plan of the palace of khorsabad, which was placed close to the boundary of the city; in fact it was partly outside the city wall proper, though surrounded by a wall of its own. the grand south-east portals or propylæa were adorned with huge human-headed bulls and gigantic figures, and gave access to a large court, 315 ft. by 280 ft., on the east side of which are the stables and out-houses, and on the west side the metal stores. on the north of this court, though not approached directly from it, was the seraglio (not to be confounded with the harem), the grand entrance to which was from a second large court, access to which was obtained from a roadway sloping up from the city. the portals to this portion of the palace were also adorned with human-headed bulls. from the second court a vaulted passage gave access to the state apartments, which appear to have had a direct view across the open country, and were quite outside the city walls. the harem has been excavated; it stood just outside the palace proper, behind the metal stores. the remains of an observatory exist, and the outlines of what is supposed to have been a temple have also been unearthed, so that we have here a complete plan of the palace. altogether 31 courts and 198 chambers have been discovered. [illustration: fig. 32.--palace of khorsabad. built by king sargon about 710 b.c. a, steps. b, chief portal. c, chief entrance-court. d-h, women's apartments (harem). j, centre court of building. k, chief court of royal residence. l, portal with carved bulls as guards. m, centre court of royal residence. n, temple (?). o, pyramid of steps. s, entrance to chief court. t, plan of terraces with wall and towers.] it will be noticed that great disproportion exists between the length of the various apartments and their breadth, none being more than 40 ft. wide; and it is probable that this was owing to structural necessities, the assyrian builders finding it impossible, with the materials at their disposal, to cover wider spaces than this. the walls of this palace vary from 5 to 15 ft. in thickness, and are composed of sun-dried bricks, faced in the principal courts and state apartments with slabs of alabaster or mosul gypsum to a height of from 9 to 12 ft., above which kiln-burnt bricks were used. the alabaster slabs were held together by iron, copper, or wooden cramps or plugs, and were covered with sculptured pictures representing scenes of peace and war, from which, as was the case with the egyptian remains, we are able to reconstruct for ourselves the daily life of the monarchs of those early times. above the alabaster slabs plastered decorations were used; in some cases painted frescoes have been found, or mosaics formed with enamelled bricks of various colours. in the out-buildings and the more retired rooms of the palace, the alabaster slabs were omitted, and plaster decorations used, from the ground upwards. the researches of mm. botta and place have shown that colour was used with a lavishness quite foreign to our notions, as the alabaster statues as well as the plaster enrichments were coloured. m. place says that in no case were the plain bricks allowed to face the walls of an apartment, the joint being always concealed either by colour or plaster: in fact, he remarks that after a time, if he found walls standing showing the brickwork joints, he invariably searched with success among the débris of the chamber for remains of the sculptured decorations which had been used to face the walls. not the least interesting of these discoveries was that of the drains under the palace, portions of which were in very good preservation; and all were vaulted, so that there can be no doubt whatever that the assyrians were acquainted with the use of the arch. this was further proved by the discovery by m. place of the great arched gates of the city itself, with an archivolt of coloured enamelled bricks forming various patterns, with a semicircular arch springing from plain jambs. extreme care was taken by the assyrian builders in laying the pavements to ensure their being perfectly level: first a layer of kiln-burnt bricks was laid on the ordinary sun-dried bricks forming the terrace; then came a layer of fine sand, upon which the bricks or slabs of the pavement proper were laid, forming in many cases an elegant pattern (see fig. 33). [illustration: fig. 33.--pavement from khoyunjik.] great difference of opinion exists as to the manner in which the various apartments of the palace were lighted. m. place suggests that the rooms were all vaulted on the inside, and the spandrels filled in with earth afterwards to form perfectly flat roofs, and he gives a restoration of the building on such an arrangement; but if he is correct, it is impossible to see how any light at all can have penetrated into the interior of many of the apartments, and as these apartments are decorated with a profusion of paintings it is very difficult to believe that artificial light alone was used in them. m. place thinks, however, that in some cylindrical terra-cotta vessels which he found he has hit upon a species of skylight which passed completely through the vault over the rooms, and thus admitted the light from above. this, however, can hardly be considered as settled yet. mr. fergusson, on the other hand, suggests that the thick main walls were carried to a height of about 18 or 19 ft., and that above this were two rows of dwarf columns, one on the inner and the other on the outer edge of the wall, these columns supporting a flat terrace roof, and the walls thus forming galleries all round the apartments. then to cover the space occupied by the apartments themselves it is necessary to assume the existence of rows of columns, the capitals of which were at the same level as those of the dwarf columns on the walls. where one apartment is surrounded on all sides by others, the roof over it may have been carried up to a higher level, forming a sort of clerestory. this theory no doubt accounts for many things which are very hard to explain otherwise, and derives very strong support from the analogy of persepolis, where slender stone columns exist. such columns of cedar wood would add enormously to the magnificence and grandeur of the building; and if, as seems likely, most of these assyrian palaces were destroyed by fire, the absence of the remains of columns offers no difficulty. on the other hand, in many parts of the palace of khorsabad no trace of fire remains, and yet here no suggestion of detached columns can be found, and, moreover, it is extremely difficult to arrange columns symmetrically in the various apartments so that doorways are not interfered with. there is also another difficulty, viz. that if the building called the harem at khorsabad was built in this way, the apartments would have been open to the view of any one ascending the lofty building called the observatory. it is quite possible that further explorations may tend to elucidate this difficult question of roofing, but at present all that can be said is that none of the theories that have been put forward is wholly satisfactory. as no columns at all exist, we cannot say what capitals were employed, but it is probable that those of persepolis, which will be shortly described, were copied from an earlier wooden form, which may have been that used by the assyrian builders. there is, however, capping the terrace on which the temple was erected at khorsabad, a good example of an assyrian cornice, which is very similar indeed to the forms found in egypt, and some of the sculptured bas-reliefs which have been discovered depict rude copies of assyrian buildings drawn by the people themselves; and it is most interesting to notice that just as we found in the egyptian style the proto-doric column, so in the assyrian we find the proto-ionic (figs. 34, 34a), and possibly also the proto-corinthian (fig. 34b). [illustration: fig. 34.--proto-ionic column.] [illustration: fig. 34a.--proto-ionic capital from assyrian sculpture.] [illustration: fig. 34b.--proto-corinthian capital from assyrian sculpture.] the third branch of west asiatic architecture is the persian, which was developed after cyrus had conquered the older monarchies, and which attained its greatest magnificence under darius and xerxes. the persians were originally a brave and hardy race inhabiting the mountainous region south of media, which slopes down to the persian gulf. until the time of cyrus, who was the founder of the great kingdom of persia, they inhabited small towns, had no architecture, and were simple barbarians. but after cyrus had vanquished the wealthy and luxurious assyrian monarchs, and his warriors had seen and wondered at the opulence and splendour of the assyrian palaces, it was natural that his successors should strive to emulate for themselves the display of their vassals. therefore, having no indigenous style to fall back upon, the artisans who were summoned to build the tomb of the founder of the monarchy and the palaces of his successors, simply copied the forms with which they were acquainted. fortunately, the sites for the new palaces were in a locality where building stone was good and abundant, and the presence of this material had a modifying effect upon the architecture. [illustration: fig. 35.--tomb of cyrus.] the best known of the remains which date as far back as the earlier persian dynasties is the so-called tomb of cyrus at pasargadæ, near murghab (fig. 35). this may be looked upon as a model in white marble of an old chaldæan temple, such as the birs-i-nimrud. there are the same platforms diminishing in area as the top is approached, and on the topmost platform is a small cella or temple with a gabled stone roof, which probably originally contained the sarcophagus. it is, however, at persepolis, the real capital of the later persian kings, whose grandeur and wealth were such that alexander is said to have found there treasure to the amount of thirty millions of pounds sterling, that we find the most magnificent series of ruins. these were carefully measured and drawn by baron texier in 1835, and his work and that of mm. flandrin and coste are those from which the best information on this subject can be obtained. [illustration: fig. 35a.--general plan of the buildings at persepolis.] persepolis is about 35 miles north-east of shiraz, close to the main highway to ispahan, at the foot of the mountain range which bounds the extensive plain of nurdusht. the modern inhabitants of the district call the ruins takht-i-jamshid (or the building of jamshid), but the inscriptions that have been deciphered prove that darius and xerxes were the chief builders. just as was the case with the assyrian ruins, these stand on an immense platform which rises perpendicularly from the plain and abuts in the rear against the mountain range. instead, however, of this platform being raised artificially, it was cut out of the rock, and levelled into a series of terraces, on which the buildings were erected. the platform, whose length from north to south is about 1582 ft., and breadth from east to west about 938 ft., is approached from the plain by a magnificent double staircase of black marble, of very easy rise, not more than 4 in. each step. its general height above the level of the plain was originally 34 ft. 9 in. the retaining wall of the platform is not straight, but has in it 40 breaks or set-offs of unequal dimensions. at the top of the staircase are the remains of a building with four columns in the centre and with large portals both back and front, each of which is adorned with gigantic bulls, strikingly resembling those found at khorsabad. those in the front have no wings, but those in the rear have wings and human heads. it has been suggested that these are the ruins of one of those large covered gates frequently mentioned in the bible, under the shelter of which business was transacted, and which probably formed the entrance to the whole range of courts and buildings. after passing through this gateway and turning southwards, at a distance of 177 feet from it, another terrace is reached, 9 ft. 2 in. higher than the first one. this terrace also is approached by four flights of steps profusely decorated with sculptured bas-reliefs, and on it are the remains of the chehil minar, the grand hexastyle hall of xerxes, which must have been one of the most magnificent buildings of ancient times. this building is marked a on the general plan. it consisted of a central court, containing thirty-six columns, the distance from centre to centre of the outside columns being 142 ft. 8 in. this court was surrounded by walls, of which nothing now remains but the jambs of three of the doorways. on three sides of this court, to the north, east and west, were porticoes of twelve columns each, precisely in a line with those of the central court, the distance from centre to centre of the columns being 28 ft. 6 in. these columns, both in their proportions and shape, suggest an imitation of timber construction. on the south the court was probably terminated by a wall, and mr. fergusson suggests that the corners between the porticoes were filled up with small chambers. the most striking feature of this hall or palace must have been its loftiness, the height of the columns varying from 63 ft. 8 in. to 64 feet from bottom of base to top of capital. the shafts were slightly tapering and had 48 flutings, and were 4 ft. 6 in. in diameter in the upper part. the bases of the columns show hardly any variations, and consist of a series of mouldings such as is shown in fig. 36; the lowest part of this moulded base is enriched with leaves, and rests on a low circular plinth at the bottom: the total height of the base averages 5 feet. the capitals show considerable variations. those of the east and west porticoes represent the heads and fore part of the bodies of two bulls[5] placed directly on the shaft back to back, with their forelegs doubled under them, the feet resting on the shaft and the knees projecting; the total height of these capitals is 7 ft. 4 in. between the necks of the bulls rested the wooden girder which supported the cross-bearers of the roof. in the north portico and, so far as can be ascertained, in the central court, the shaft of the column was much shorter, and supported a fantastic elongated capital, consisting of a sort of inverted cup, supporting an elegant shape much resembling the egyptian palm-leaf capital, above which, on all the four sides, are double spirals resembling the ornaments of the greek ionic capital known as volutes, but placed perpendicularly, and not, as in the ionic capital, horizontally. these volutes again may have supported double bulls, which would make the total height of the columns the same as those of the east and west porticoes. the doorways have cornices enriched with leaves, similar to those found at khorsabad, which have already been noticed as bearing a decided resemblance to the egyptian doorways. [illustration: fig. 35b.--column from persepolis, east and west porticoes.] [illustration: fig. 36.--column from persepolis, north portico.] on other terraces, slightly raised above the main platform, exist the remains, in a more or less ruined condition, of numerous other courts and halls, one of which has no less than one hundred columns to support its roof, but the height of this building was much inferior to that of the chehil minar. the existence of these columns leaves no doubt that these buildings were covered with flat roofs; and that over part of them was a raised talar or prayer-platform is rendered probable from the introduction of such a feature into the sculptured representation of a palace façade which forms the entrance to the rock-tomb of darius, which was cut out of the mountain at the back of the terrace of persepolis. the position of this tomb on the general plan is marked b, and fig. 37 is a view of the entrance, which was probably intended as a copy of one of the halls. all the walls of the palaces were profusely decorated with sculptured pictures, and various indications occur which induce the belief that painting was used to decorate those portions of the walls that were not faced with sculptured slabs. [illustration: fig. 37.--the rock-cut tomb of darius.] the superior lightness and elegance of the persepolitan ruins to those of an earlier epoch will not fail to be noticed, but there is still a certain amount of barbaric clumsiness discernible, and it is not till we come to greek architecture that we see how an innate genius for art and beauty, such as was possessed by that people, could cull from previous styles everything capable of being used with effect, and discard or prune off all the unnecessary exuberances of those styles which offend a critically artistic taste. analysis of buildings. _plan._ the floor-space of a great assyrian or medo-persian building was laid out on a plan quite distinct from that of an egyptian temple; for the rooms are almost always grouped round quadrangles. the buildings are also placed on terraces, and no doubt would secure external as well as internal effects, to which the imposing flights of stairs provided would largely contribute. we find in assyrian palaces, halls comparatively narrow in proportion to their great length, but still so wide that the roofing of them must have been a serious business, and we find them arranged side by side, often three deep. in the persian buildings, halls nearly square on plan, and filled by a multitude of columns, occur frequently. in the plan of detached buildings like the birs-i-nimrud, we are reminded of the pyramids of egypt, which no doubt suggested the idea of pyramidal monuments to all subsequent building peoples. _walls._ the magnificently worked granite and stones of egypt give place to brick for the material of the walls, with the result that a far larger space could be covered with buildings by a given number of men in a given time, but of course the structures were far more liable to decay. accordingly, sturdy as their walls are, we find them at the present day reduced to mere shapeless mounds, but of prodigious extent. _roofs._ we can only judge of the roofs by inference, and it has already been stated that a difference of opinion exists respecting them. it appears most probable that a large proportion of the buildings must have been roofed by throwing timber beams from wall to wall and forming a thick platform of earth on them, and must have been lighted by some sort of clerestory. at any rate the stone roofs of the egyptians seem to have been discarded, and with them the necessity for enormous columns and piers placed very close together. in some bas-reliefs, buildings with roofs of a domical shape are represented. _openings._ doorways are the openings chiefly met with, and it is not often that the superstructure, whether arch or lintel, remains, but it is clear that in some instances, at least, openings were arched. great attention was paid to important doorways, and a large amount of magnificent sculpture was employed to enrich them. _columns._ the columns most probably were of wood in assyrian palaces. in some of the persian ones they were of marble, but of a proportion and treatment which point to an imitation of forms suitable for wood. the bases and capitals of these slender shafts are beautiful in themselves, and very interesting as suggesting the source from which some of the forms in greek architecture were derived, and on the bas-reliefs other architectural forms are represented which were afterwards used by the greeks. _ornaments._ sculptured slabs, painted wall decorations, and terra-cotta ornamentation were used as enrichments of the walls. these slabs, which have become familiarly known through the attention roused by the discoveries of sir a. h. layard and the specimens sent by him to the british museum, are objects of the deepest interest; so are the carved bulls from gateways. in the smaller and more purely ornamental decorations the honeysuckle, and other forms familiar to us from their subsequent adoption by greek artists, are met with constantly, executed with great taste. _architectural character._ a character of lavish and ornate magnificence is the quality most strongly displayed by the architectural remains of western asia, and could we have beheld any one of the monuments before it was reduced to ruin, we should probably have seen this predominant to an extent of which it is almost impossible now to form an adequate idea. footnotes: [4] in any such endeavour we should be met by the further difficulty, that the writers of antiquity differ widely in the precise limits which they give to the assyrian kingdom. some make it include babylon, other writers say that it was bounded on the south by babylon, and altogether the greatest confusion exists in the accounts that have come down to us. [5] as a matter of fact there is a marked distinction between the heads of the animals of the east and west porticoes: those of the west are undoubtedly bulls, but those of the east are grotesque mythological creatures somewhat resembling the fabled unicorn. [illustration: fig. 38.--sculptured ornament at allahabad.] chapter iv. oriental architecture. _hindu architecture._ hindu architecture is not only unfamiliar but uncongenial to western tastes; and as it has exercised no direct influence upon the later styles of europe, it will be noticed in far less detail than the magnitude and importance of many indian buildings which have been examined and measured during the last few years would otherwise claim, although the exuberant wealth of ornament exhibited in these buildings denotes an artistic genius of very high order, if somewhat uncultured and barbaric. as by far the largest number of hindu buildings are of a date much later than the commencement of our era, a strict adherence to chronological sequence would scarcely allow the introduction of this style so early in the present volume; but we know that several centuries before christ powerful kingdoms and wealthy cities existed in india; and as it seems clear also that in architecture and art, as well as in manners and customs, hardly any change[6] has occurred from remote antiquity, it appeared allowable, as well as convenient, that the short description we have to offer should precede rather than follow that of the classical styles properly so called. here, as always when we attempt to penetrate farther back than a certain date, all is obscure and mythical. we find lists of kings and dynasties going back thousands of years before our era, but nothing at all to enable us to judge how much of this may be taken as solid fact. mr. fergusson believes he has discovered in one date, viz. 3101 b.c., the first aryan settlement; but be this as it may, it is useless to look for any architectural remains until after the death of gotama buddha in 543 b.c.; in fact, it is very doubtful whether remains can be authenticated until the reign of king asoka (b.c. 272 to b.c. 236), when buddhism had spread over almost the whole of the country, where it remained the predominant cult until brahmanism again asserted its supremacy in the 14th century a.d. the earliest, or among the earliest, architectural remains are the inscribed pillars called lâts, which are found in numerous localities, but have been almost always overthrown. many of these were erected by the above-named asoka: they were ornamented with bands and mouldings separating the inscriptions, and crowned by a sort of capital, which was generally in the form of an animal. one very curious feature in these pillars is the constant occurrence of a precise imitation of the well-known honeysuckle ornament of the greeks; this was probably derived from the same source whence the greeks obtained it, namely assyria. it is most probable that these pillars served to ornament the approaches to some kind of sacred enclosure or temple, of which, however, no remains have been found. [illustration: fig. 39.--dagoba from ceylon.] extremely early in date are some of the tumuli or topes which exist in large numbers in various parts of india. these are of two kinds,--the topes or stupas proper, which were erected to commemorate some striking event or to mark a sacred spot; and the dagobas, which were built to cover the relics of buddha himself or some buddhist saint. these topes consist of a slightly stilted hemispherical dome surmounting a substructure, circular in plan, which forms a sort of terrace, access to which is obtained by steps. the domical shape was, however, external only, as on the inside the masonry was almost solid, a few small cavities only being left for the protection of various jewels, &c. the dome was probably surmounted by a pinnacle, as shown in fig. 39. in the neighbourhood of bhilsa, in central india, there are a large number of these topes, of which the largest, that of sanchi, measures 121 ft. in diameter and 55 ft. in height; it was erected by king asoka. two kinds of edifices which are not tombs remain, the chaityas (temples or halls of assembly) and viharas or monasteries, which were generally attached to the chaityas. these erections were either detached or cut in the rock, and it is only the rock-cut ones of which remains exist of an earlier date than the commencement of the christian era. the earliest specimen of a rock-cut chaitya is in the nigope cave, near behar, constructed about 200 b.c. this consists of two compartments, an outer rectangular one 32 ft. 9 in. by 19 ft. 1 in., and an inner circular one 19 ft. in diameter. the lomas rishi cave is of a slightly later date: both of these rock-cut temples exhibit in every detail a reproduction of wooden forms. in the doorway the stone piers slope inwards, just like raking wooden struts, and the upper part represents the ends of longitudinal rafters supporting a roof. later on the builders emancipated themselves to a certain extent from this servile adhesion to older forms, and fig. 40 gives a plan and section of a later chaitya at karli, near poona. this bears a striking resemblance to a christian basilica:[7] there is first the forecourt; then a rectangular space divided by columns into nave and aisles, and terminated by a semicircular apse. the nave is 25 ft. 7 in. wide, and the aisles 10 ft. each, the total length is 126 ft. fifteen columns separate the nave from the aisles, and these have bases, octagonal shafts, and rich capitals. round the apse the columns are replaced by piers. the side aisles have flat roofs, and the central nave a stilted semicircular one, practically a vault, which at the apse becomes a semicircular dome, under which is the dagoba, the symbol of buddhism. the screen separating the forecourt from the temple itself is richly ornamented with sculpture. [illustration: fig. 40.--chaitya near poona.] the older viharas or monasteries were also cut in the rock (figs. 41, 42), and were divided into cells or chambers; they were several storeys in height, and it is probable that the cells were used by devout buddhists as habitations for the purposes of meditation. [illustration: fig. 41.--the kylas at ellora. a rock-cut monument.] [illustration: fig. 42.--plan of the kylas at ellora. a rock-cut monument.] among the most remarkable, and in fact almost unique features of hindu architecture are the so-called rails which form enclosures sometimes round the topes and sometimes round sacred trees. occasionally they are found standing alone, though when this is the case it is probably on account of the object which was the cause of their erection having perished. they are built of stone, carved so as to represent a succession of perpendicular and horizontal bands or rails, separated by a sort of pierced panels. the carving is of the most elaborate description, both human and animal forms being depicted with great fidelity, and representations occur of various forms of tree worship which have been of the greatest use in elucidating the history of this phase of religious belief. occasionally the junctions of the rails are carved into a series of discs, separated by elaborate scroll-work. these rails are frequently of very large dimensions, that at bharhut--which is one of the most recently discovered--measuring 275 ft. in circumference, with a height of 22 ft. 6 in. the date of these erections is frequently very difficult to determine, but the chief authorities generally concur in the opinion that none are found dating earlier than about 250 b.c., nor later than 500 a.d., so that it is pretty certain they must have been appropriated to some form of buddhist worship. [illustration: fig. 43.--vimana from manasara.] all the buildings that we have mentioned were devoted to the worship of buddha, but the jain schism, brahmanism, and other cults had their representative temples and buildings, a full description of which would require a volume many times larger than the present one. many of the late detached buildings display rich ornamentation and elaborate workmanship. they are generally of a pyramidal shape, several storeys in height, covered with intricately cut mouldings and other fantastic embellishments. columns are of all shapes and sizes, brackets frequently take the place of capitals, and where capitals exist almost every variety of fantastic form is found. it has been stated that no fixed laws govern the plan or details of indian buildings, but there exists an essay on indian architecture by ram raz--himself a hindoo--which tends to show that such a statement is erroneous, as he quotes original works of considerable antiquity which lay down stringent rules as to the planning of buildings, their height, and the details of the columns. it is probable that a more extended acquaintance with hindu literature will throw further light on these rules. of the various invasions which have occurred some have left traces in the architecture of india. none of these are more interesting than certain semi-greek forms which are met with in the northern provinces, and which without doubt are referable to the influence of the invasion under alexander the great. a far more conspicuous and widespread series of changes followed in the wake of the mohammedan invasions. we shall have an opportunity later on of recurring to this subject,[8] but it is one to which attention should be called at this early stage, lest it should be thought that a large and splendid part of indian architecture had been overlooked. [illustration: fig. 44.--bracket capital.] [illustration: fig. 45.--column from ajunta.] [illustration: fig. 46.--column from ellora.] [illustration: fig. 47.--column from ajunta.] _chinese and japanese architecture._ although the chinese have existed as a nation, continuously for between two and three thousand years, if not longer, and at a very early period had arrived at a high state of artistic and scientific cultivation, yet none of their buildings with which we are acquainted has any claim on our attention because of its antiquity. several reasons may be assigned for this, the principal being that the chinese seem to be as a race singularly unsusceptible to all emotions. although they reverence their dead ancestors, yet this reverence never led them, as did that of the egyptians, etruscans, and other nations, to a lavish expenditure of labour or materials, to render their tombs almost as enduring as the everlasting hills. though waves of religious zeal must have flowed over the country when confucius inculcated his simple and practical morality and gained an influential following, and again when buddhism was introduced and speedily became the religion of the greater portion of the people, their religious emotion never led them, as it did the greeks and the mediæval builders, to erect grand and lasting monuments of sacred art. when most of the western nations were still barbarians, the chinese had attained a settled system of government, and were acquainted with numerous scientific truths which we have prided ourselves on rediscovering within the last two centuries; but no thought ever seems to have occurred to them, as it did to the romans, of commemorating any event connected with their life as a nation, or of handing down to posterity a record of their great achievements. peaceful and prosperous, they have pursued the even tenor of their way at a high level of civilisation certainly, but at a most monotonous one. the buddhist temples of china have a strong affinity to those of india. the largest is that at honan, the southern suburb of canton. this is 306 ft. long by 174 ft. wide, and consists of a series of courts surrounded by colonnades and cells for the _bonzes_ or priests. in the centre of the courtyard is a series of pavilions or temples connected by passages, and devoted to the worship of the idols contained in them. on each side of the main court, against the outer wall, is another court, with buildings round it, consisting of kitchen and refectories on the one side, and hospital wards on the other. it is almost certain that this is a reproduction of the earlier forms of chaityas and viharas which existed in india, and have been already referred to. the temple of honan is two storeys in height, the building itself being of stone, but the colonnade surrounding it is of wood on marble bases. on the second storey the columns are placed on two sides only, and not all round. the columns have no capitals, but have projecting brackets. the roof of each storey projects over the columns, and has a curved section, which is, in fact, peculiar to chinese roofs, and it is enriched at the corners with carved beasts and foliage. this is a very common form of temple throughout china. the taas or pagodas are the buildings of china best known to europeans. these are nearly always octagonal in plan, and consist generally of nine storeys, diminishing both in height and breadth as they approach the top. each storey has a cornice composed of a fillet and large hollow moulding, supporting a roof which is turned up at every corner and ornamented with leaves and bells. on the top of all is a long pole, forming a sort of spire, surrounded by iron hoops, and supported by eight chains attached to the summit and to each angle of the roof of the topmost storey. the best known pagoda is that of nankin, which is 40 ft. in diameter at its base, and is faced inside and outside with white glazed porcelain slabs keyed into the brick core. the roof tiles are also of porcelain, in bands of green and yellow, and at each angle is a moulding of larger tiles, red and green alternately. the effect of the whole is wonderfully brilliant and dazzling. apart from the coloured porcelain, nearly every portion of a chinese temple or pagoda is painted, colour forming the chief means of producing effect; but as nearly everything is constructed of wood, there was and is no durability in these edifices. [illustration: fig. 48.--a small pagoda.] in public works of utility, such as roads, canals--one of which is nearly 700 miles in length--and boldly designed bridges, the chinese seem to have shown a more enlightened mind; and the great wall, which was built to protect the northern boundary of the kingdom, about 200 b.c., is a wonderful example of engineering skill. this wall, which varies from 15 to 30 ft. in height, is about 25 ft. thick at the base, and slopes off to 20 ft. at the top. it is defended by bastions placed at stated intervals, which are 40 ft. square at the base, and about the same in height; the wall is carried altogether through a course of about 1400 miles, following all the sinuosities of the ground over which it passes. it is a most remarkable fact that a nation should have existed 2000 years ago capable of originating and completing so great a work; but it is still more remarkable that such a nation, possessing moreover, as it does, a great faculty in decorative art applied to small articles of use and fancy, should be still leading a populous and prosperous existence, and yet should have so little to show in the way of architecture, properly so termed, at the present time. japan, like china, possesses an architecture, but one exclusively of wood; for although the use of stone for bridges, walls, &c., had been general, all houses and temples were invariably built of wood until the recent employment of foreigners led to the erection of brick and stone buildings. the consequence has been that nearly all the old temples have been burnt down and rebuilt several times; and though it is probable that the older forms were adhered to when the buildings were re-erected, it is only by inference that we can form an idea of the ancient architecture of the country. the heavy curved roofs which are so characteristic of chinese buildings are found also in japan, but only in the buddhist temples, and this makes it probable that this form of roof is not of native origin, but was introduced with the buddhist cult. the earlier shinto temples have a different form of roof, which is without the upward curve, but which has nearly as much projection at the eaves as the curved roofs. where the buildings are more than one storey in height the upper one is always set somewhat back, as we saw was the case in the chinese pagodas, and considerable and pleasing variety is obtained by treating the two storeys differently. very great skill in carving is shown, all the posts, brackets, beams, and projecting rafters being formed into elaborate representations of animals and plants, or quaintly conceived grotesques; and the flat surfaces have frequently a shallow incised arabesque pattern intertwined with foliage. the roofs are always covered with tiles, and a curious effect is produced by enriching the hips and ridges with several courses of tiles in cement, thus making them rise considerably above the other portions of the roof. a peculiar feature of japanese houses is that the walls, whether external or internal, are not filled in with plaster, but are constructed of movable screens which slide in grooves formed in the framing of the partitions. thus all the rooms can easily be thrown together or laid open to the outer air in hot weather. all travellers in japan remark upon the impossibility of obtaining privacy in the hotels in consequence of this. the shinto temples are approached through what might be termed an archway, only that the arch does not enter into its composition. this erection is called a torii, and is thus described by professor conder:[9]--"it is composed of two upright posts of great thickness, each consisting of the whole trunk of a tree rounded, about 15 ft. high, and placed 12 ft. apart. across the top of these is placed a wooden lintel, projecting considerably and curving upwards at the ends. some few feet below this another horizontal piece is tenoned into the uprights, having a little post in the centre helping to support the upper lintel." these erections occasionally occur in front of a buddhist temple, when they are built of stone, exactly imitating, however, the wooden originals. this is interesting, as offering another proof, were one needed, that the curious forms of masonry exhibited in much of the work of the early nations, some of which has been described, is the result of an imitation of earlier wooden forms. the chief effect in the buildings of the japanese is intended to be produced by colour, which is profusely used; and they have attained to a height of perfection in the preparation of varnishes and lacquers that has never been equalled. their lacquer is used all over their buildings, besides forming their chief means of decorating small objects. it is, however, beginning to be questioned whether the old art of lacquering is not becoming lost by the japanese themselves, as the modern work appears by no means equal to the old. one curious form of decoration, of which the japanese are much enamoured, consists in forming miniature representations of country scenes and landscapes; waterfalls, bridges, &c., being reproduced on the most diminutive scale. it is much to be feared that our small stock of knowledge of ancient japanese art will never be greatly increased, as the whole country and the people are becoming modernised and europeanised to such an extent that it appears probable there will soon be little indigenous art left in the country. * * * * * it has not been thought necessary to append to this chapter analyses of the eastern styles similar to those which are given in the case of the great divisions of western architecture. the notice of these styles must unavoidably be condensed into very small space. footnotes: [6] it is not intended to imply that hindustan has been without change in her ruling dynasties. these have been continually changing; but the remarkable fact is that, numerous as have been the nations that have poured across the indus attracted by "the wealth of ind," there has been no reflux, as it were: the various peoples, with their arts, religions, and manners, have been swallowed up and assimilated, leaving but here and there slight traces of their origin. [7] see chap. x. for an illustration of a christian basilica. [8] see chapter on saracenic architecture. [9] paper communicated to the royal institute of architects. [illustration: fig. 49.--greek honeysuckle ornament.] chapter v. greek architecture. _buildings of the doric order._ the architecture of greece has a value far higher than that attaching to any of the styles which preceded it, on account of the beauty of the buildings and the astonishing refinement which the best of them display. this architecture has a further claim on our attention, as being virtually the parent of that of all the nations of western europe. we cannot put a finger upon any features of egyptian, assyrian, or persian architecture, the influence of which has survived to the present day, except such as were adopted by the greeks. on the other hand, there is no feature, no ornament, nor even any principle of design which the greek architects employed, that can be said to have now become obsolete. not only do we find direct reproductions of greek architecture forming part of the practice of every european country, but we are able to trace to greek art the parentage of many of the forms and features of roman, byzantine, and gothic architecture, especially those connected with the column and which grew out of its artistic use. greek architecture did not include the arch and all the forms allied to it, such as the vault and the dome; and, so far as we know, the greeks abstained from the use of the tower. examples of both these features were, it is almost certain, as fully within the knowledge of the greeks as were those features of egyptian, assyrian, and persian buildings which they employed; consequently it is to deliberate selection that we must attribute this exclusion. within the limits by which they confined themselves, the greeks worked with such power, learning, taste, and skill that we may fairly claim for their highest achievement--the parthenon--that it advanced as near to absolute perfection as any work of art ever has been or ever can be carried. greek architecture seems to have begun to emerge from the stage of archaic simplicity about the beginning of the sixth century before the christian era (600 b.c. is the reputed date of the old doric temple at corinth). all the finest examples were erected between that date and the death of alexander the great (333 b.c.), after which period it declined and ultimately gave place to roman. the domestic and palatial buildings of the greeks have decayed or been destroyed, leaving but few vestiges. we know their architecture exclusively from ruins of public buildings, and to a limited extent of sepulchral monuments remaining in greece and in greek colonies. by far the most numerous and excellent among these buildings are temples. the greek idea of a temple was different from that entertained by the egyptians. the building was to a much greater extent designed for external effect than internal. a comparatively small sacred cell was provided for the reception of the image of the divinity, usually with one other cell behind it, which seems to have served as treasury or sacristy; but there were no surrounding chambers, gloomy halls, or enclosed courtyards, like those of the egyptian temples, visible only to persons admitted within a jealously guarded outer wall. the temple, it is true, often stood within some sort of precinct, but it was accessible to all. it stood open to the sun and air; it invited the admiration of the passer-by; its most telling features and best sculpture were on the exterior. whether this may have been, to some extent, the case with persian buildings, we have few means of knowing, but certainly the attention paid by the greeks to the outside of their temples offers a striking contrast to the practice of the egyptians, and to what we know of that of the assyrians. [illustration: fig. 50.--plan of a small greek temple in antis.] the temple, however grand, was always of simple form, with a gable at each end, and in this respect differed entirely from the series of halls, courts, and chambers of which a great egyptian temple consisted. in the very smallest temple at least one of the gables was made into a portico by the help of columns and two pilasters (fig. 50). more important temples had a larger number of columns, and often a portico at each end (figs. 50a and 55). the most important had columns on the flanks as well as at the front and rear, the sacred cell being, in fact, surrounded by them. it will be apparent from this that the column, together with the superstructure which rested upon it, must have played a very important part in greek temple-architecture, and an inspection of any representations of greek buildings will at once confirm the impression. [illustration: fig. 50a.--plan of a small greek temple.] we find in greece three distinct manners, distinguished largely by the mode in which the column is dealt with. these it would be quite consistent to call "styles," were it not that another name has been so thoroughly appropriated to them, that they would hardly now be recognised were they to be spoken of as anything else than "orders." the greek orders are named the doric, ionic, and corinthian. each of them presents a different series of proportions, mouldings, features, and ornaments, though the main forms of the buildings are the same in all. the column and its entablature (the technical name for the frieze, architrave, and cornice, forming the usual superstructure) being the most prominent features in every such building, have come to be regarded as the index or characteristic from an inspection of which the order and the degree of its development can be recognised, just as a botanist recognises plants by their flowers. by reproducing the column and entablature, almost all the characteristics of either of the orders can be copied; and hence a technical and somewhat unfortunate use of the word "order" to signify these features only has crept in, and has overshadowed and to a large extent displaced its wider meaning. it is difficult in a book on architecture to avoid employing the word "order" when we have to speak of a column and its entablature, because it has so often been made use of in this sense. the student must, however, always bear in mind that this is a restricted and artificial sense of the word, and that the column belonging to any order is always accompanied by the use throughout the building of the appropriate proportions, ornaments, and mouldings belonging to that order. the origin of greek architecture is a very interesting subject for inquiry, but, owing to the disappearance of almost all very early examples of the styles, it is necessarily obscure. such information, however, as we possess, taken together with the internal evidence afforded by the features of the matured style, points to the influence of egypt, to that of assyria and persia, and to an early manner of timber construction--the forms proper to which were retained in spite of the abandonment of timber for marble--as all contributing to the formation of greek architecture. in asia minor a series of monuments, many of them rock-cut, has been discovered, which throw a curious light upon the early growth of architecture. we refer to tombs found in lycia, and attributed to about the seventh century b.c. in these we obviously have the first work in stone of a nation of ship builders. a lycian tomb--such as the one now to be seen, accurately restored, in the british museum--represents a structure of beams of wood framed together, surmounted by a roof which closely resembles a boat turned upside down. the planks, the beams to which they were secured, and even a ridge similar to the keel of a vessel, all reappear here, showing that the material in use for building was so universally timber, that when the tomb was to be "graven in the rock for ever" the forms of a timber structure were those that presented themselves to the imagination of the sculptor. in other instances the resemblance to shipwrights' work disappears, and that of a carpenter is followed by that of the mason. thus we find imitations of timber beams framed together and of overhanging low-pitched roofs, in some cases carried on unsquared rafters lying side by side, in several of these tombs. what happened on the asiatic shore of the egean must have occurred on the greek shores, and though none of the very earliest specimens of reproduction in stone of timber structures has come down to us, there are abundant traces, as we shall presently see, of timber originals in buildings of the doric order. timber originals were not, however, the only sources from which the early inhabitants of greece drew their inspiration. constructions of extreme antiquity, and free from any appearance of imitating structures of timber, mark the sites of the oldest cities of greece, mycenæ and orchomenos for example, the most ancient being pelasgic city walls of unwrought stone (fig. 51). the so-called treasury of atreus at mycenæ, a circular underground chamber 48 ft. 6 in. in diameter, and with a pointed vault, is a well-known specimen of more regular yet archaic building. its vault is constructed of stones corbelling over one another, and is not a true arch (figs. 52, 52a). the treatment of an ornamental column found here, and of the remains of sculptured ornaments over a neighbouring gateway called the gate of the lions, is of very asiatic character, and seems to show that whatever influences had been brought to bear on their design were oriental. [illustration: fig. 51.--ancient greek wall of unwrought stone from samothrace.] [illustration: fig. 52.--plan of the treasury of atreus at mycenæ.] [illustration: fig. 52a.--section of the treasury of atreus at mycenæ.] [illustration: fig. 53.--greek doric capital from selinus.] [illustration: fig. 53a.--greek doric capital from the theseum.] [illustration: fig. 53b.--greek doric capital from samothrace.] a wide interval of time and a great contrast in taste separate the early works of pelasgic masonry and even the chamber at mycenæ from even the rudest and most archaic of the remaining hellenic works of greece. the doric temple at corinth is attributed, as has been stated, to the seventh century b.c. this was a massive masonry structure with extremely short, stumpy columns, and strong mouldings, but presenting the main features of the doric style, as we know it, in its earliest and rudest form. successive examples (figs. 53 to 53b) show increasing slenderness of proportions and refinement of treatment, and are accompanied by sculpture which approaches nearer and nearer to perfection; but in the later and best buildings, as in the earliest and rudest, certain forms are retained for which it seems impossible to account, except on the supposition that they are reproductions in stone or marble of a timber construction. these occur in the entablature, while the column is of a type which it is hard to believe is not copied from originals in use in egypt many centuries earlier, and already described (chap. ii.). we will now proceed to examine a fully-developed greek doric temple of the best period, and in doing so we shall be able to recognise the forms referred to in the preceding paragraph as we come to them. the most complete greek doric temple was the parthenon, the work of the architect ictinus, the temple of the virgin goddess athene (minerva) at athens, and on many accounts this building will be the best to select for our purpose.[10] [illustration: fig. 54.--ruins of the parthenon at athens.] the parthenon at athens stood on the summit of a lofty rock, and within an irregularly shaped enclosure, something like a cathedral close; entered through a noble gateway.[11] the temple itself was of perfectly regular plan, and stood quite free from dependencies of any sort. it consisted of a cella, or sacred cell, in which stood the statue of the goddess, with one chamber (the treasury) behind. in the cella, and also in the chamber behind, there were columns. a series of columns surrounded this building, and at either end was a portico, eight columns wide, and two deep. there were two pediments, or gables, of flat pitch, one at each end. the whole stood on a basement of steps; the building, exclusive of the steps, being 228 ft. long by 101 ft. wide, and 64 ft. high. the columns were each 34 ft. 3 in. high, and more than 6 ft. in diameter at the base; a portion of the shaft and of the capital of one is in the british museum, and a magnificent reproduction, full size, of the column and its entablature may be seen at the école des beaux arts, paris. the ornaments consisted almost exclusively of sculpture of the very finest quality, executed by or under the superintendence of pheidias. of this sculpture many specimens are now in the british museum. [illustration: fig. 55.--plan of the parthenon at athens.] [illustration: fig. 56.--the roof of a greek doric temple, showing the marble tiles.] the construction of this temple was of the most solid and durable kind, marble being the material used; and the workmanship was most careful in every part of which remains have come down to us. the roof was, no doubt, made of timber and covered with marble tiles (fig. 56), carried on a timber framework, all traces of which have entirely perished; and the mode in which it was constructed is a subject upon which authorities differ, especially as to what provision was made for the admission of light. the internal columns, found in other temples as well as in the parthenon, were no doubt employed to support this roof, as is shown in bötticher's restoration of the temple at pæstum which we reproduce (fig. 56a), though without pledging ourselves to its accuracy; for, indeed, it seems probable that something more or less like the clerestory of a gothic church must have been employed to admit light to these buildings, as we know was the case in the hypostyle hall at karnak. but this structure, if it existed, has entirely disappeared.[12] [illustration: fig. 56a.--section of the greek doric temple at pæstum. as restored by bötticher.] [illustration: fig. 57.--the greek doric order from the theseum.] the order of the parthenon was doric, and the leading proportions were as follows:--the column was 5·56 diameters high; the whole height, including the stylobate or steps, might be divided into nine parts, of which two go to the stylobate, six to the column, and one to the entablature. [illustration: fig. 58.--plan of a greek doric column.] [illustration: fig. 59.--the fillets under a greek doric capital.] the greek doric order is without a base; the shaft of the column springs from the top step and tapers towards the top, the outline being not, however, straight, but of a subtle curve, known technically as the entasis of the column. this shaft is channelled with twenty shallow channels,[13] the ridges separating one from another being very fine lines. a little below the moulding of the capital, fine sinkings, forming lines round the shaft, exist, and above these the channels of the flutes are stopped by or near the commencement of the projecting moulding of the capital. this moulding, which is of a section calculated to convey the idea of powerful support, is called the echinus, and its lower portion is encircled by a series of fillets (fig. 59), which are cut into it. above the echinus, which is circular, like the shaft, comes the highest member--the abacus, a square stout slab of marble, which completes the capital of the column. the whole is most skilfully designed to convey the idea of sturdy support, and yet to clothe the support with grace. the strong proportions of the shaft, the slight curve of its outline, the lines traced upon its surface by the channels, and even the vigorous uncompromising planting of it on the square step from which it springs, all contribute to make the column look strong. the check given to the vigorous upward lines of the channels on the shaft by the first sinkings, and their arrest at the point where the capital spreads out, intensified as it is by the series of horizontal lines drawn round the echinus by the fillets cut into it, all seem to convey the idea of spreading the supporting energy of the column outwards; and the abacus appears naturally fitted, itself inert, to receive a burden placed upon it and to transmit its pressure to the capital and shaft below. [illustration: fig. 60.--capital of a greek doric column from ægina, with coloured decoration.] [illustration: fig. 61.--section of the entablature of the greek doric order.] [illustration: fig. 62.--plan looking up of part of a greek doric peristyle.] the entablature which formed the superstructure consisted first of a square marble beam--the architrave, which, it may be assumed, represents a square timber beam that occupied the same position in the primitive structures. on this rests a second member called the frieze, the prominent feature of which is a series of slightly projecting features, known as triglyphs (three channels) (fig. 63), from the channels running down their face. these closely resemble, and no doubt actually represent, the ends of massive timber beams, which must have connected the colonnade to the wall of the cell in earlier buildings. at the bottom of each is a row of small pendants, known as guttæ, which closely resemble wooden pins, such as would be used to keep a timber beam in place. the panels between the triglyphs are usually as wide as they are high. they are termed metopes and sculpture commonly occupies them. the third division of the entablature, the cornice represents the overhanging eaves of the roof. [illustration: fig. 63.--details of the triglyph.] [illustration: fig. 64.--details of the mutules.] the cornices employed in classic architecture may be almost invariably subdivided into three parts: the supporting part, which is the lowest,--the projecting part, which is the middle,--and the crowning part, which is the highest division of the cornice. the supporting part in a greek doric cornice is extremely small. there are no mouldings, such as we shall find in almost every other cornice, calculated to convey the idea of contributing to sustain the projection of the cornice, but there are slabs of marble, called mutules (fig. 64), dropping towards the outer end, of which one is placed over each triglyph and one between every two. these seem to recall, by their shape, their position, and their slope alike, the ends of the rafters of a timber roof; and their surface is covered with small projections which resemble the heads of wooden pins, similar to those already alluded to. the projecting part, in this as in almost all cornices, is a plain upright face of some height, called "the corona," and recalling probably a "facia" or flat narrow board such as a carpenter of the present day would use in a similar position, secured in the original structure to the ends of the rafters and supporting the eaves. lastly, the crowning part is, in the greek doric, a single convex moulding, not very dissimilar in profile to the ovolo of the capital, and forming what we commonly call an eaves-gutter. at the ends of the building the two upper divisions of the cornice--namely, the projecting corona and the crowning ovolo--are made to follow the sloping line of the gable, a second corona being also carried across horizontally in a manner which can be best understood by inspecting a diagram of the corner of a greek doric building (fig. 57); and the triangular space thus formed was termed a pediment, and was the position in which the finest of the sculpture with which the building was enriched was placed. in the parthenon a continuous band of sculpture ran round the exterior of the cell, near the top of the wall. one other feature was employed in greek temple-architecture. the _anta_ was a square pillar or pier of masonry attached to the wall, and corresponded very closely to our pilaster; but its capital always differed from that of the columns in the neighbourhood of which it was employed. the antæ of the greek doric order, as employed in the parthenon, have a moulded base, which it will be remembered is not the case with the column, and their capital has for its principal feature an under-cut moulding, known as the bird's beak, quite dissimilar from the ovolo of the capital of the column (fig. 65). sometimes the portico of a temple consisted of the side walls prolonged, and ending in two antæ, with two or more columns standing between them. such a portico is said to be in antis. [illustration: fig. 65.--elevation and section of the capital of a greek anta, with coloured decoration.] the parthenon presents examples of the most extraordinary refinements in order to correct optical illusions. the delicacy and subtlety of these are extreme, but there can be no manner of doubt that they existed. the best known correction is the diminution in diameter or taper, and the _entasis_ or convex curve of the tapered outline of the shaft of the column. without the taper, which is perceptible enough in the order of this building, and much more marked in the order of earlier buildings, the columns would look top-heavy; but the entasis is an additional optical correction to prevent their outline from appearing hollowed, which it would have done had there been no curve. the columns of the parthenon have shafts that are over 34 ft. high, and diminish from a diameter of 6·15 ft. at the bottom to 4·81 ft. at the top. the outline between these points is convex, but so slightly so that the curve departs at the point of greatest curvature not more than ¾ in. from the straight line joining the top and bottom. this is, however, just sufficient to correct the tendency to look hollow in the middle. a second correction is intended to overcome the apparent tendency of a building to spread outwards towards the top. this is met by inclining the columns slightly inwards. so slight, however, is the inclination, that were the axes of two columns on opposite sides of the parthenon continued upwards till they met, the meeting-point would be 1952 yards, or, in other words, more than one mile from the ground. another optical correction is applied to the horizontal lines. in order to overcome a tendency which exists in all long lines to seem as though they droop in the middle, the lines of the architrave, of the top step, and of other horizontal features of the building, are all slightly curved. the difference between the outline of the top step of the parthenon and a straight line joining its two ends is at the greatest only just over 2 inches. the last correction which it is necessary to name here was applied to the vertical proportions of the building. the principles upon which this correction rests have been demonstrated by mr. john pennethorne;[14] and it would hardly come within the scope of this volume to attempt to state them here: suffice it to say, that small additions, amounting in the entire height of the order to less than 5 inches, were made to the heights of the various members of the order, with a view to secure that from one definite point of view the effect of foreshortening should be exactly compensated, and so the building should appear to the spectator to be perfectly proportioned. the parthenon, like many, if not all greek buildings, was profusely decorated with coloured ornaments, of which nearly every trace has now disappeared, but which must have contributed largely to the splendid beauty of the building as a whole, and must have emphasised and set off its parts. the ornaments known as doric frets were largely employed. they consist of patterns made entirely of straight lines interlacing, and, while preserving the severity which is characteristic of the style, they permit of the introduction of considerable richness. the principal remaining examples or fragments of greek doric may be enumerated as follows:-in greece. temple of (?) athena, at corinth, ab. 650 b.c. temple of (?) zeus, in the island of ægina, ab. 550 b.c. temple of theseus (theseum), at athens, 465 b.c. temple of athena (parthenon), on the acropolis at athens, fin. 438 b.c. the propylæa, on the acropolis at athens, 436-431 b.c. temple of zeus at olympia. temple of apollo epicurius, at bassæ,[15] in arcadia (designed by ictinus). temple of apollo epicurius, at phigaleia, in arcadia (built by ictinus). temple of athena, on the rock of sunium, in attica. temple of nemesis, at rhamnus, in attica. temple of demeter (ceres), at eleusis, in attica. in sicily and south italy. temple of (?) zeus, at agrigentum, in sicily (begun b.c. 480). temple at ægesta (or segesta), in sicily. temple of (?) zeus, at selinus, in sicily (? ab. 410 b.c.). temple of (?) athena, at syracuse, in sicily. temple of poseidon, at pæstum, in south of italy (? ab. 550 b.c.). footnotes: [10] see frontispiece and figs. 54 and 55. [11] the propylæa. [12] mr. fergusson's investigations, soon, it is understood, to be published in a complete form, clearly show that the clerestory and roof can be restored with the greatest probability. [13] in a few instances a smaller number is found. [14] 'geometry and optics of ancient architecture.' [15] ? exterior doric--interior ionic. [illustration: fig. 66.--palmette and honeysuckle.] chapter vi. greek architecture. _buildings of the ionic and corinthian orders._ the doric was the order in which the full strength and the complete refinement of the artistic character of the greeks were most completely shown. there was a great deal of the spirit of severe dignity proper to egyptian art in its aspect; but other nationalities contributed to the formation of the many-sided greek nature, and we must look to some other country than egypt for the spirit which inspired the ionic order. this seems to have been brought into greece by a distinct race, and shows marks of an asiatic origin. the feature which is most distinctive is the one most distinctly eastern--the capital of the column, ornamented always by volutes, _i.e._ scrolls, which bear a close resemblance to features similarly employed in the columns found at persepolis. the same resemblance can be also detected in the moulded bases, and even the shafts of the columns, and in many of the ornaments employed throughout the buildings. [illustration: fig. 67.--shaft of ionic column showing the flutes.] [illustration: fig. 68.--ionic capital. front elevation.] [illustration: fig. 69.--ionic capital. side elevation.] in form and disposition an ordinary ionic temple was similar to one of the doric order, but the general proportions are more slender, and the mouldings of the order are more numerous and more profusely enriched. the column in the ionic order had a base, often elaborately and sometimes singularly moulded (figs. 74, 75). the shaft (figs. 67, 70) is of more slender proportions than the doric shaft. it was fluted, but its channels are more numerous, and are separated from one another by broader fillets than in the doric. the distinctive feature, as in all the orders, is the capital (figs. 68, 69), which is recognised at a glance by the two remarkable ornaments already alluded to as like scrolls, and known as volutes. these generally formed the faces of a pair of cushion-shaped features, which could be seen in a side view of the capital; but sometimes volutes stand in a diagonal position, and in almost every building they differ slightly. the abacus is less deep than in the greek doric, and it is always moulded at the edge, which was never the case with the doric abacus. the entablature (fig. 70) is, generally speaking, richer than that of the doric order. the architrave, for example, has three facias instead of being plain. on the other hand, the frieze has no triglyphs, and but rarely sculpture. there are more members in the cornice, several mouldings being combined to fortify the supporting portion. these have sometimes been termed "the bed mouldings," and among them occurs one which is almost typical of the order, and is termed a dentil band. this moulding presents the appearance of a plain square band of stone, in which a series of cuts had been made dividing it into blocks somewhat resembling teeth, whence the name. such an ornament is more naturally constructed in wood than in stone or marble, but if the real derivation of the ionic order, as of the doric, be in fact from timber structures, the dentil band is apparently the only feature in which that origin can now be traced. the crowning member of the cornice is a partly hollow moulding, technically called a "cyma recta," less vigorous than the convex ovolo, of the doric: this moulding, and some of the bed mouldings, were commonly enriched with carving. altogether more slenderness and less vigour, more carved enrichment and less painted decoration, more reliance on architectural ornament and less on the work of the sculptor, appear to distinguish those examples of greek ionic which have come down to us, as compared with doric buildings. [illustration: fig. 70.--the ionic order. from priene, asia minor.] [illustration: fig. 71.--ionic order. from the erechtheium, athens.] [illustration: fig. 72.--north-west view of the erechtheium, in the time of pericles.] the most numerous examples of the ionic order of which remains exist are found in asia minor, but the most refined and complete is the erechtheium at athens (figs. 72, 73), a composite structure containing three temples built in juxtaposition, but differing from one another in scale, levels, dimensions, and treatment. the principal order from the erechtheium (fig. 71) shows a large amount of enrichment introduced with the most refined and severe taste. specially remarkable are the ornaments (borrowed from the assyrian honeysuckle) which encircle the upper part of the shaft at the point where it passes into the capital, and the splendid spirals of the volutes (figs. 68, 69). the bases of the columns in the erechtheium example are models of elegance and beauty. those of some of the examples from asia minor are overloaded with a vast number of mouldings, by no means always producing a pleasing effect (figs. 74, 75). some of them bear a close resemblance to the bases of the columns at persepolis. [illustration: fig. 73.--plan of the erechtheium.] [illustration: fig. 74.--ionic base from the temple of the wingless victory (nikè apteros).] [illustration: fig. 75.--ionic base mouldings from priene.] the most famous greek building which was erected in the ionic style was the temple of diana at ephesus. this temple has been all but totally destroyed, and the very site of it had been for centuries lost and unknown till the energy and sagacity of an english architect (mr. wood) enabled him to discover and dig out the vestiges of the building. fortunately sufficient traces of the foundation have remained to render it possible to recover the plan of the temple completely; and the discovery of fragments of the order, together with representations on ancient coins and a description by pliny, have rendered it possible to make a restoration on paper, of the general appearance of this famous temple, which must be very nearly, if not absolutely, correct. the walls of this temple enclosed, as usual, a cella (in which was the statue of the goddess), with apparently a treasury behind it: they were entirely surrounded by a double series of columns, with a pediment at each end. the exterior of the building, including these columns, was about twice the width of the cella. the whole structure, which was of marble, was planted on a spacious platform with steps. the account of pliny refers to thirty-six columns, which he describes as "_columnæ celatæ_" (sculptured columns), adding that one was by scopas, a very celebrated artist. the fortunate discovery by mr. wood of a few fragments of these columns shows that the lower part of the shaft immediately above the base was enriched by a group of figures--about life-size--carved in the boldest relief and encircling the column. one of these groups has been brought to the british museum, and its beauty and vigour enable the imagination partly to restore this splendid feature, which certainly was one of the most sumptuous modes of decorating a building by the aid of sculpture which has ever been attempted; and the effect must have been rich beyond description. it is worth remark that the erechtheium, which has been already referred to, contains an example of a different, and perhaps a not less remarkable, mode of combining sculpture with architecture. in one of its three porticoes (fig. 72) the columns are replaced by standing female figures, known as caryatidæ, and the entablature rests on their heads. this device has frequently been repeated in ancient and in modern architecture, but, except in some comparatively obscure examples, the sculptured columns of ephesus do not appear to have been imitated. another famous greek work of art, the remains of which have been, like the temple of diana, disinterred by the energy and skill of a learned englishman, belonged to the ionic order. to mr. newton we owe the recovery of the site, and considerable fragments of the architectural features, of the mausoleum of halicarnassus, one of the ancient wonders of the world. the general outline of this monument must have resembled other greek tombs which have been preserved, such, for example, as the lion tomb at cnidus; that is to say, the plan was square: there was a basement, above this an order, and above that a steep pyramidal roof rising in steps, not carried to a point, but stopping short to form a platform, on which was placed a quadriga (or four-horsed chariot). this building is known to have been richly sculptured, and many fragments of great beauty have been recovered. indeed it was probably its elaboration, as well as its very unusual height (for the greek buildings were seldom lofty), which led to its being so celebrated. [illustration: fig. 76.--the corinthian order. from the monument of lysicrates at athens.] [illustration: fig. 77.--corinthian capital from the monument of lysicrates at athens.] the corinthian order, the last to make its appearance, was almost as much roman as greek, and is hardly found in any of the great temples of the best period of which remains exist in greece, though we hear of its use. for example, pausanias states that the corinthian order was employed in the interior of the temple of athena alea at tegea, built by scopas, to which a date shortly after the year 394 b.c. is assigned. the examples which we possess are comparatively small works, and in them the order resembles the ionic, but with the important exceptions that the capital of the column is quite different, that the proportions are altogether a little slenderer, and that the enrichments are somewhat more florid. [illustration: fig. 78.--monument of lysicrates at athens, as in the time of pericles.] the capital of the greek corinthian order, as seen in the choragic monument of lysicrates at athens (fig. 78)--a comparatively miniature example, but the most perfect we have--is a work of art of marvellous beauty (fig. 77). it retains a feature resembling the ionic volute, but reduced to a very small size, set obliquely and appearing to spring from the sides of a kind of long bell-shaped termination to the column. this bell is clothed with foliage, symmetrically arranged and much of it studied, but in a conventional manner, from the graceful foliage of the acanthus; between the two small volutes appears an assyrian honeysuckle, and tendrils of honeysuckle, conventionally treated, occupy part of the upper portion of the capital. the abacus is moulded, and is curved on plan, and the base of the capital is marked by a very unusual turning-down of the flutes of the columns. the entire structure to which this belonged is a model of elegance, and the large sculptured mass of leaves and tendrils with which it is crowned is especially noteworthy. [illustration: fig. 79.--capital of antæ from miletus. side view.] a somewhat simpler corinthian capital, and another of very rich design, are found in the temple of apollo didymæus at miletus, where also a very elegant capital for the antæ--or pilasters--is employed (figs. 79, 81). a more ornamental design for a capital could hardly be adopted than that of the lysicrates example, but there was room for more elaboration in the entablature, and accordingly large richly-sculptured brackets seem to have been introduced, and a profusion of ornament was employed. the examples of this treatment which remain are, however, of roman origin rather than greek. [illustration: fig. 80.--restoration of the greek theatre of segesta.] the greek cities must have included structures of great beauty and adapted to many purposes, of which in most cases few traces, if any, have been preserved. we have no remains of a greek palace, or of greek dwelling-houses, although those at pompeii were probably erected and decorated by greek artificers, for roman occupation. the agora of a greek city, which was a place of public assembly something like the roman forum, is known to us only by descriptions in ancient writers, but we possess some remains of greek theatres; and from these, aided by roman examples and written descriptions, can understand what these buildings were. the auditory was curved in plan, occupying rather more than a semicircle; the seats rose in tiers one behind another; a circular space was reserved for the chorus in the centre of the seats, and behind it was a raised stage, bounded by a wall forming its back and sides: a rough notion of the arrangement can be obtained from the lecture theatre of many modern colleges, and our illustration (fig. 80) gives a general idea of what must have been the appearance of one of these structures. much of the detail of these buildings is, however, a matter of pure speculation, and consequently does not enter into the scheme of this manual. [illustration: fig. 81.--capital of antæ from miletus.] chapter vii. greek architecture. _analysis._ the _plan_ or floor-disposition of a greek building was always simple however great its extent, was well judged for effect, and capable of being understood at once. the grandest results were obtained by simple means, and all confusion, uncertainty, or complication were scrupulously avoided. refined precision, order, symmetry, and exactness mark the plan as well as every part of the work. the plan of a greek temple may be said to present many of the same elements as that of an egyptian temple, but, so to speak, turned inside out. columns are relied on by the greek artist, as they were by the egyptian artist, as a means of giving effect; but they are placed by him outside the building instead of within its courts and halls. the greek, starting with a comparatively small nucleus formed by the cell and the treasury, encircles them by a magnificent girdle of pillars, and so makes a grand structure, the first hint or suggestion being in all probability to be found in certain small egyptian buildings to which reference has already been made. the disposition of these columns and of the great range of steps, or stylobate, is the most marked feature in greek temple plans. columns also existed, it is true, in the interior of the building, but these were of smaller size, and seem to have been introduced to aid in carrying the roof and the clerestory, if there was one. they have in several instances disappeared, and there is certainly no ground for supposing that in any greek interior the grand but oppressive effect of a hypostyle hall was attempted to be reproduced. that was abandoned, together with the complication, seclusion, and gloom of the long series of chambers, cells, &c., placed one behind another, just as the contrasts and surprises of the series of courts and halls following in succession were abandoned for the one simple but grand mass built to be seen from without rather than from within. in the greater number of greek buildings a degree of precision is exhibited, to which the egyptians did not attain. all right angles are absolutely true; the setting-out (or spacing) of the different columns, piers, openings, &c., is perfectly exact; and, in the parthenon, the patient investigations of mr. penrose and other skilled observers have disclosed a degree of accuracy as well as refinement which resembles the precision with which astronomical instruments are adjusted in europe at the present day, rather than the rough-and-ready measurements of a modern mason or bricklayer. what the plans of greek palaces might have exhibited, did any remains exist, is merely matter for inference and conjecture, and it is not proposed in this volume to pass far beyond ascertained and observed facts. there can be, however, little doubt that the palaces of the west asiatic style must have at least contributed suggestions as to internal disposition of the later and more magnificent greek mansions. the ordinary dwelling-houses of citizens, as described by ancient writers, resembled those now visible in the disinterred cities of pompeii and herculaneum, which will be referred to under roman architecture.[16] the chief characteristic of the plan of these is that they retain the disposition which in the temples was discarded; that is to say, all the doors and windows looked into an inner court, and the house was as far as possible secluded within an encircling wall. the contrast between the openness of the public life led by the men in greek cities, and the seclusion of the women and the families when at home, is remarkably illustrated by this difference between the public and private buildings. the plan of the triple building called the erechtheium (fig. 72) deserves special mention, as an example of an exceptional arrangement which appears to set the ordinary laws of symmetry at defiance, and which is calculated to produce a result into which the picturesque enters at least as much as the beautiful. though the central temple is symmetrical, the two attached porticoes are not so, and do not, in position, dimensions, or treatment, balance one another. the result is a charming group, and we cannot doubt that other examples of freedom of planning would have been found, had more remains of the architecture of the great cities of greece come down to our own day. in public buildings other than temples--such as the theatre, the agora, and the basilica--the greek architects seem to have had great scope for their genius; the planning of the theatres shows skilful and thoroughly complete provisions to meet the requirements of the case. a circular disposition was here introduced--not, it is true, for the first time, since it is rendered probable by the representations on sculptured slabs that some circular buildings existed in assyria, and circular buildings remain in the archaic works at mycenæ; but it was now elaborated with remarkable completeness, beauty, and mastery over all the difficulties involved. could we see the great theatre of athens as it was when perfect, we should probably find that as an interior it was almost unrivalled, alike for convenience and for beauty; and for these excellences it was mainly indebted to the elegance of its planning. the actual floor of many of the greek temples appears to have been of marble of different colours. _the walls._ the construction of the walls of the greek temples rivalled that of the egyptians in accuracy and beauty of workmanship, and resembled them in the use of solid materials. the greeks had within reach quarries of marble, the most beautiful material which nature has provided for the use of the builder; and great fineness of surface and high finish were attained. some interesting examples of hollow walling occur in the construction of the parthenon. the wall was not an element of the building on which the greek architect seemed to dwell with pleasure; much of it is almost invariably overshadowed by the lines of columns which form the main features of the building. the pediment (or gable) of a temple is a grand development of the walls, and perhaps the most striking of the additions which the greeks made to the resources of the architect. it offers a fine field for sculpture, and adds real and apparent height beyond anything that the egyptians ever attempted since the days of the pyramid-builders; and it has remained in constant use to the present hour. we do not hear of towers being attached to buildings, and, although such monumental structures as the mausoleum of halicarnassus approached the proportions of a tower, height does not seem to have commended itself to the mind of the greek architect as necessary to the buildings which he designed. it was reserved for roman and christian art to introduce this element of architectural effect in all its power. on the other hand, the greek, like the persian architect, emphasised the base of his building in a remarkable manner, not only by base mouldings, but by planting the whole structure on a great range of steps which formed an essential part of the composition. _the roof._ the construction of the roofs of greek temples has been the subject of much debate. it is almost certain that they were in some way so made as to admit light. they were framed of timber and covered by tiles, often, if not always, of marble. although all traces of the timber framing have disappeared, we can at least know that the pitch was not steep, by the slope of the outline of the pediments, which formed, as has already been said, perhaps the chief glory of a greek temple. the flat stone roofs sometimes used by the egyptians, and necessitating the placing of columns or other supports close together, seem to have become disused, with the exception that where a temple was surrounded by a range of columns the space between the main wall and the columns was so covered. the vaulted stone roofs of the archaic buildings, of which the treasury of atreus (figs. 52, 52a) was the type, do not seem to have prevailed in a later period, or, so far as we know, to have been succeeded by any similar covering or vault of a more scientific construction. it is hardly necessary to add that the greek theatres were not roofed. the romans shaded the spectators in their theatres and amphitheatres by means of a velarium or awning, but it is extremely doubtful whether even this expedient was in use in greek theatres. _the openings._ the most important characteristic of the openings in greek buildings is that they were flat-topped,--covered by a lintel of stone or marble,--and never arched. we have already[17] shown that this circumstance is really of the first importance as determining the architectural character of buildings. doors and window openings were often a little narrower at the top than the bottom, and were marked by a band of mouldings, known as the architrave, on the face of the wall, and, so to speak, framing in the opening. there was often also a small cornice over each (figs. 82, 83). openings were seldom advanced into prominence or employed as features in the exterior of a building; in fact, the same effects which windows produce in other styles were in greek buildings created by the interspaces between the columns. _the columns._ these features, together with the superstructure or entablature, which they customarily carried, were the prominent parts of greek architecture, occupying as they did the entire height of the building. the development of the orders (which we have explained to be really decorative systems, each of which involved the use of one sort of column, though the term is constantly understood as meaning merely the column and entablature) is a very interesting subject, and illustrates the acuteness with which the greeks selected from those models which were accessible to them, exactly what was suited to their purpose, and the skill with which they altered and refined, and almost redesigned, everything which they so selected. [illustration: fig. 82.--greek doorway showing cornice.] [illustration: fig. 83.--greek doorway. front view. (from the erechtheium.)] during the whole period when greek art was being developed, the ancient and polished civilisation of egypt constituted a most powerful and most stable influence, always present,--always, comparatively speaking, within reach,--and always the same. of all the forms of column and capital existing in egypt, the greeks, however, only selected that straight-sided fluted type of which the beni-hassan example is the best known, but by no means the only instance. we first meet with these fluted columns at corinth, of very sturdy proportions, and having a wide, swelling, clumsy moulding under the abacus by way of a capital. by degrees the proportions of the shaft grew more slender, and the profile of the capital more elegant and less bold, till the perfected perfections of the greek doric column were attained. this column is the original to which all columns with moulded capitals that have been used in architecture, from the age of pericles to our own, may be directly or indirectly referred; while the egyptian types which the greeks did not select--such, for example, as the lotus-columns at karnak--have never been perpetuated. a different temper or taste, and partly a different history, led to the selection of the west asiatic types of column by a section of the greek people; but great alterations in proportion, in the treatment of the capital, and in the management of the moulded base from which the columns sprang, were made, even in the orders which occur in the ionic buildings of asia minor. this was carried further when the ionic order was made use of in athens herself, and as a result the attic base and the perfected ionic capital are to be found at their best in the erechtheium example. the ionic order and the corinthian, which soon followed it, are the parents,--not, it is true, of all, but of the greater part of the columns with foliated capitals that have been used in all styles and periods of architecture since. it will not be forgotten that rude types of both orders are found represented on assyrian bas-reliefs, but still the corinthian capital and order must be considered as the natural and, so to speak, inevitable development of the ionic. from the corinthian capital an unbroken series of foliated capitals can be traced down to our own day; almost the only new ornamented type ever devised since being that which takes its origin in the romanesque block capital, known to us in england as the early norman cushion capital: this was certainly the parent of a distinct series, though even these owe not a little to greek originals. we have alluded to the ionic base. it was derived from a very tall one in use at persepolis, and we meet with it first in the rich but clumsy forms of the bases in the asia minor examples. in them we find the height of the feature as used in persia compressed, while great, and to our eyes eccentric, elaboration marked the mouldings: these the refinement of attic taste afterwards simplified, till the profile of the well-known attic base was produced--a base which has had as wide and lasting an influence as either of the original forms of capital. the corinthian order, as has been above remarked, is the natural sequel of the ionic. had greek architecture continued till it fell into decadence, this order would have been the badge of it. as it was, the decadence of greek art was roman art, and the corinthian order was the favourite order of the romans; in fact all the important examples of it which remain are roman work. if we remember how invariably use was made of one or other of the two great types of the greek order in all the buildings of the best greek time, with the addition towards its close of the corinthian order, and that these orders, a little more subdivided and a good deal modified, have formed the substratum of roman architecture and of that in use during the last three centuries; and if we also bear in mind that nearly all the columnar architecture of early christian, byzantine, saracenic, and gothic times, owes its forms to the same great source, we may well admit that the invention and perfecting of the orders of greek architecture has been--with one exception--the most important event in the architectural history of the world. that exception is, of course, the introduction of the arch. _the ornaments._ greek ornaments have exerted the same wide influence over the whole course of western art as greek columns; and in their origin they are equally interesting as specimens of greek skill in adapting existing types, and of greek invention where no existing types would serve. few of the mouldings of greek architecture are to be traced to anterior styles. there is nothing like them in egyptian work, and little or nothing in assyrian; and though a suggestion of some of them may no doubt be found in persian examples, we must take them as having been substantially originated by greek genius, which felt that they were wanted, designed them, and brought them far towards absolute perfection. they were of the most refined form, and when enriched were carved with consummate skill. they were executed, it must be remembered, in white marble,--a material having the finest surface, and capable of responding to the most delicate variations in contour by corresponding changes in shade or light in a manner and to a degree which no other material can equal. in the doric, mouldings were few, and almost always convex; they became much more numerous in the later styles, and then included many of concave profile. the chief are the ovolo, which formed the curved part of the doric capital, and the crowning moulding of the doric cornice; the cyma; the bird's beak, employed in the capitals of the antæ; the fillets under the doric capital; the hollows and torus mouldings of the ionic and corinthian bases. the profiles of these mouldings were very rarely segments of circles, but lines of varying curvature, capable of producing the most delicate changes of light and shade, and contours of the most subtle grace. many of them correspond to conic sections, but it seems probable that the outlines were drawn by hand, and not obtained by any mechanical or mathematical method. the mouldings were some of them enriched, to use the technical word, by having such ornaments cut into them or carved on them as, though simple in form, lent themselves well to repetition.[18] where more room for ornament existed, and especially in the capitals of the ionic and corinthian orders, ornaments were freely and most gracefully carved, and very symmetrically arranged. though these were very various, yet most of them can be classed under three heads. (1.) frets (figs. 116 to 120). these were patterns made up of squares or l-shaped lines interlaced and made to seem intricate, though originally simple. frequently these patterns are called doric frets, from their having been most used in buildings of the doric order. (2.) honeysuckle (figs. 94 and 111 to 114). this ornament, admirably conventionalised, had been used freely by the assyrians, and the greeks only adopted what they found ready to their hand when they began to use it; but they refined it, at the same time losing no whit of its vigour or effectiveness, and the honeysuckle has come to be known as a typical greek decorative _motif_. (3.) acanthus (figs. 84 and 85). this is a broad-leaved plant, the foliage and stems of which, treated in a conventional manner, though with but little departure from nature, were found admirably adapted for floral decorative work, and accordingly were made use of in the foliage of the corinthian capital, and in such ornaments as, for example, the great finial which forms the summit of the choragic monument of lysicrates. [illustration: fig. 84.--the acanthus leaf and stalk.] the beauty of the carving was, however, eclipsed by that highest of all ornaments--sculpture. in the doric temples, as, for example, in the parthenon, the architect contented himself with providing suitable spaces for the sculptor to occupy; and thus the great pediments, the metopes (fig. 86) or square panels, and the frieze of the parthenon were occupied by sculpture, in which there was no necessity for more conventionalism than the amount of artificial arrangement needed in order fitly to occupy spaces that were respectively triangular, square, or continuous. in the later and more voluptuous style of the ionic temples we find sculpture made into an architectural feature, as in the famous statues, known as the caryatides, which support the smallest portico of the erechtheium, and in the enriched columns of the temple of diana at ephesus. sculpture had already been so employed in egypt, and was often so used in later times; but the best opportunity for the display of the finest qualities of the sculptor's art is such an one as the pediments, &c., of the great doric temples afforded. [illustration: fig. 85.--the acanthus leaf.] there is little room for doubting that all the greek temples were richly decorated in colours, but traces and indications are all that remain: these, however, are sufficient to prove that a very large amount of colour was employed, and that probably ornaments (figs. 105 to 120) were painted upon many of those surfaces which were left plain by the mason, especially on the cornices, and that mosaics (fig. 87) and coloured marbles, and even gilding, were freely used. there is also ground for believing that as the use of carved enrichments increased with the increasing adoption of the ionic and corinthian styles, less use was made of painted decorations. _architectural character._ observations which have been made during the course of this and the previous chapters will have gone far to point out the characteristics of greek art. an archaic and almost forbidding severity, with heavy proportions and more strength than grace, marks the earliest greek buildings of which we have any fragments remaining. dignity, sobriety, refinement, and beauty are the qualities of the works of the best period. the latest buildings were more rich, more ornate, and more slender in their proportions and to a certain extent less severe. [illustration: fig. 86.--metope from the parthenon. conflict between a centaur and one of the lapithæ.] [illustration: fig. 87.--mosaic from the temple of zeus, olympia.] most carefully studied proportions prevailed, and were wrought out to a pitch of completeness and refinement which is truly astounding. symmetry was the all but invariable law of composition. yet in certain respects--as, for example, the spacing and position of the columns--a degree of freedom was enjoyed which roman architecture did not possess. repetition ruled to the almost entire suppression of variety. disclosure of the arrangement and construction of the building was almost complete, and hardly a trace of concealment can be detected. simplicity reigns in the earliest examples; the elaboration of even the most ornamental is very chaste and graceful; and the whole effect of greek architecture is one of harmony, unity, and refined power. [illustration: examples of greek ornament in the northern portico of the erechtheium--showing the ornamentation of the ceiling. fig. 88.--section of the portico of the erechtheium. fig. 89.--plan of the portico--looking up.] a general principle seldom pointed out which governs the application of enrichments to mouldings in greek architecture may be cited as a good instance of the subtle yet admirable concord which existed between the different features: it is as follows. _the outline of each enrichment in relief was ordinarily described by the same line as the profile of the moulding to which it was applied._ the egg enrichment (fig. 91) on the ovolo, the water-leaf on the cyma reversa (figs. 92 and 97), the honeysuckle on the cyma recta (fig. 94), and the guilloche (fig. 100) on the torus, are examples of the application of this rule,--one which obviously tends to produce harmony. [illustration: fig. 90.--capital of antæ from the erechtheium.] [illustration: examples of greek ornament in relief. fig. 91.--egg and dart. fig. 92.--leaf and dart. fig. 93.--honeysuckle. fig. 94.--honeysuckle. fig. 95.--acanthus. fig. 96.--acanthus. fig. 97.--leaf and tongue. fig. 98.--leaf and tongue. fig. 99.--garland. fig. 100.--guilloche. fig. 101.--bead and fillet. fig. 102.--bead and fillet. fig. 103.--torus moulding. fig. 104.--torus moulding.] [illustration: examples of greek ornament in colour. fig. 105.--honeysuckle. figs. 106, 108.--facias with bands of foliage. fig. 106. fig. 107.--honeysuckle. fig. 108. fig. 109.--leaf and dart. fig. 110.--egg and dart. figs. 111 to 113.--examples of the honeysuckle. fig. 111. fig. 112. fig. 113. fig. 114.--combination of the fret, the egg and dart, the bead and fillet, and the honeysuckle. fig. 114. fig. 115.--guilloche. figs. 116 to 120.--examples of the fret. fig. 116. fig. 117. fig. 118. fig. 119. fig. 120.] footnotes: [16] see chap. ix. [17] chap. i. [18] for a statement of the general rule governing such enrichments, see page 133. [illustration: fig. 121.--elevation of an etruscan temple (restored from descriptions only).] chapter viii. etruscan and roman architecture. _historical and general sketch._ the few grains of truth that we are able to sift from the mass of legend which has accumulated round the early history of rome seem to indicate that at a very early period--which the generally received date of 753 b.c. may be taken to fix as nearly as is now possible--a small band of outcasts and marauders settled themselves on the palatine hill and commenced to carry on depredations against the various cities of the tribes whose territories were in the immediate neighbourhood, such as the umbrians, sabines, samnites, latins, and etruscans. a walled city was built, which from its admirable situation succeeded in attracting inhabitants in considerable numbers, and speedily began to exercise supremacy over its neighbours. the most important of the neighbouring nations were the etruscans, who called themselves rasena, and who must have settled on the west coast of italy, between the rivers arno and tiber, at a very early period. their origin is, however, very obscure, some authorities believing, upon apparently good grounds, that they came from asia minor, while others assert that they descended from the north over the rhætian alps. but whatever that origin may have been, they had at the time of the founding of rome as a city attained a high degree of civilisation, and showed a considerable amount of architectural skill; and their arts exercised a very great influence upon roman art. considerable remains of the city walls of several etruscan towns still exist. these show that the masonry was of what has been termed a cyclopean character,--that is to say, the separate stones were of an enormous size; in the majority of examples these stones were of a polygonal shape, though in a few instances they were rectangular, while in all cases they were fitted together with the most consummate accuracy of workmanship, which, together with their great massiveness, has enabled much of this masonry to endure to the present day. cortona, volterra, fiesole, and other towns exhibit instances of this walling. the temples, palaces, or dwelling-houses which went to make up the cities so fortified have all disappeared, and the only existing structural remains of etruscan buildings are tombs. these are found in large numbers, and consist--as in the earlier instances which have already been described--both of rock-cut and detached erections. of the former, the best known group is at castel d'asso, where we find not only chambers cut into the rock, each resembling an ordinary room with an entrance in the face of the rock, but also monuments cut completely out and standing clear all round; and we cannot fail to detect in the forms into which the rock has been cut, especially those of the roof, imitations of wooden buildings, heavy square piers being left at intervals supporting longitudinal beams which hold up the roof. fig. 122 is an illustration of the interior of a chamber in the rock. occasionally there were a cornice and pediment over the entrance. [illustration: fig. 122.--sepulchre at corneto.] the other class of tombs are circular tumuli, similar to the pelasgic tombs of asia minor; of these large numbers exist, but not sufficiently uninjured to enable us to restore them completely. they generally consisted of a substructure of stone, upon which was raised a conical elevation. in the case of the regulini galeassi tomb there were an inner and an outer tumulus, the latter of which covered several small tombs, while the inner enclosed one only, which had fortunately never been opened till it was lately discovered. this tomb was vaulted on the horizontal system--that is to say, its vault was not a true arch, but was formed of courses of masonry, each overhanging the one below, as in the treasury of atreus, and it had a curious recess in the roof, in which were found numerous interesting examples of etruscan pottery. it is, however, clear from the city gates, sewers, aqueducts, &c., that the etruscans were acquainted with and extensively used the true radiating arch composed of wedge-shaped stones (voussoirs), and that they constructed it with great care and scientific skill. the gate at perugia, and the cloacæ or sewers at rome, constructed during the reign of the tarquins,[19] at the beginning of the sixth century b.c., are examples of the true arch, and this makes it certain that it was from the etruscans that the romans learned the arched construction which, when combined with the trabeated or lintel mode of construction which they copied from the greeks, formed the chief characteristic of roman architecture. the cloaca maxima (fig. 123), which is roofed over with three concentric semicircular rings of large stones, still exists in many places with not a stone displaced, as a proof of the skill of these early builders. there are remains of an aqueduct at tusculum which are interesting from the fact of the horizontal being combined with the true arch in its construction. [illustration: fig. 123.--cloaca maxima.] no etruscan temples remain now, but we know from vitruvius that they consisted of three cells with one or more rows of columns in front, the intercolumniation or interval between the columns being excessive. the largest etruscan temple of which any record remains was that of jupiter capitolinus at rome, which, under the empire, became one of the most splendid temples of antiquity. it was commenced by tarquinius superbus, and is said to have derived its name from the fact of the builders, when excavating the foundations, coming upon a freshly bleeding head (_caput_), indicating that the place would eventually become the chief city of the world. another form of etruscan temple is described by vitruvius, consisting of one circular cell only, with a porch. this form was probably the origin of the series of circular roman buildings which includes such forms of temples as that at tivoli, and many of the famous mausolea, _e.g._ that of hadrian, and the culmination of which style is seen in the pantheon. it is interesting to notice that the romans never entirely gave up the circular form, one instance of its use in britain at a late period of the roman occupation having been discovered in the ruins of silchester near basingstoke; and we shall find that it was perpetuated in christian baptisteries, tombs, and occasionally churches. we know from the traces of such buildings which exist, that the etruscans must have constructed theatres and amphitheatres, and it is recorded that the first tarquin laid out the circus maximus and instituted the great games held there. at sutri there are ruins of an amphitheatre which is nearly a perfect circle, measuring 265 ft. in its greatest breadth and 295 ft. in length. there are no remains of other buildings which would enable us to form an opinion as to the civic architecture of the etruscans: they must, however, have attained to a considerable skill in sculpture, as in some of the tombs figures are represented in high relief which show no small power of expression. they, too, like the egyptians, embellished their tombs with mural paintings. these are generally in outline, and represent human figures and animals in scenes of every-day life, with conventionalised foliage, or mythological scenes such as the passage of the soul after death to the judgment-seat where its actions in life are to be adjudicated upon. in the plastic arts the etruscans made great progress, many of their vases showing a delicacy and grace which have never been surpassed, and exhibiting in their decorations traces of both greek and egyptian influence. * * * * * we now reach the last of the classical styles of antiquity, the roman,--a style which, however, is rather an adaptation or amalgamation of other styles than an original and independent creation or development. the contrast is very great between the "lively grecian," imaginative and idealistic in the highest degree--who seemed to have an innate genius for art and beauty, and who was always eager to perpetuate in marble his ideal conception of the "hero from whose loins he sprung," or to immortalise with some splendid work of art the name of his mother-city--and the stern, practical roman, realistic in his every pore, eager for conquest, and whose one dominant idea was to bring under his sway all the nations who were brought into contact with him, and to make his city--as had been foretold--the capital of the whole world. with this idea always before him, it is no wonder that such a typical roman as m. porcius cato should look with disdain upon the fine arts in all their forms, and should regard a love for the beautiful, whether in literature or art, as synonymous with effeminacy. mummius, also, who destroyed corinth, is said to have been so little aware of the value of the artistic treasures which he carried away, as to stipulate with the carriers who undertook to transport them to rome, that if any of the works of art were lost they should be replaced by others of equal value. when the most prominent statesmen displayed such indifference, it is not surprising that for nearly 500 years no single trace of any architectural building of any merit at all in rome can now be discovered, and that history is silent as to the existence of any monuments worthy of being mentioned. works of public utility of a very extensive nature were indeed carried out during this period; such, for example, as the appian way from rome to capua, which was the first paved road in rome, and was constructed by the censor appius claudius in b.c. 309. this was 14 ft. wide and 3 ft. thick, in three layers: 1st, of rough stones grouted together; 2nd, of gravel; and 3rd, of squared stones of various dimensions. the same censor also brought water from præneste to rome by a subterranean channel 11 miles long. several bridges were also erected, and cato the censor is said to have built a basilica. until about 150 b.c. all the buildings of rome were constructed either of brick or the local stone; and though we hear nothing of architecture as a fine art, we cannot hesitate to admit that during this period the romans carried the art of construction, and especially that of employing materials of small dimensions and readily obtainable, in buildings of great size, to a remarkable pitch of perfection. it was not till after the fall of carthage and the destruction of corinth, when greece became a roman province under the name of achaia--both which events occurred in the year 146 b.c.--that rome became desirous of emulating, to a certain extent, the older civilisation which she had destroyed; and about this time she became so enormously wealthy that vast sums of money were expended, both publicly and privately, in the erection of monuments, many of which remain to the present day, more or less altered. the first marble temple in rome was built by the consul q. metellus macedonicus, who died b.c. 115. roman architecture from this period began to show a wonderful diversity in the objects to which it was directed,--a circumstance perhaps as interesting as its great scientific and structural advance upon all preceding styles. in the earlier styles temples, tombs, and palaces were the only buildings deemed worthy of architectural treatment; but under the romans baths, theatres, amphitheatres, basilicas, aqueducts, triumphal arches, &c., were carried out just as elaborately as the temples of the gods. it was under the emperors that the full magnificence of roman architectural display was reached. the famous boast of augustus, that he found rome of brick and left her of marble, gives expression in a few words to what was the great feature of his reign. succeeding emperors lavished vast sums on buildings and public works of all kinds; and thus it comes to pass that though the most destructive of all agencies, hostile invasions, conflagrations, and long periods of neglect, have each in turn done their utmost to destroy the vestiges of imperial rome, there still remain fragments, and in one or two instances whole monuments, enough to make rome, after athens, the richest store of classic architectural antiquities in the world. but it was not in rome only that great buildings were erected. the whole known civilised world was under roman dominion, and wherever a centre of government or even a flourishing town existed there sprang up the residences of the dominant race, and their places of business, public worship, and public amusement. consequently, we find in our own country, and in france, spain, germany, italy, north africa, and egypt--in short, in all the countries where roman rule was established--examples of temples, amphitheatres, theatres, triumphal arches, and dwelling-houses, some of them of great interest and occasionally in admirable preservation. footnote: [19] the story of the tarquins probably points to a period when the chief supremacy at rome was in the hands of an etruscan family, and is interesting for this reason. [illustration: fig. 124.--"incantada" in salonica.] chapter ix. the buildings of the romans. the temples in rome were not, as in greece and egypt, the structures upon which the architect lavished all the resources of his art and his science. the general form of them was copied from that made use of by the greeks, but the spirit in which the original idea was carried out was entirely different. in a word, the temples of rome were by no means worthy of her size and position as the metropolis of the world, and very few remains of them exist. [illustration: fig. 125.--ionic order from the temple of fortuna virilis, rome.] ten columns are still standing of the temple of antoninus and faustina (now the church of san lorenzo in miranda): it occupied the site of a previous temple and was dedicated by antoninus pius to his wife faustina. the temple (supposed) of fortuna virilis, in the ionic style (fig. 125), still exists as the church of santa maria egiziaca: this was tetrastyle, with half-columns all round it, and this was of the kind called by vitruvius "pseudo-peripteral." a few fragmentary remains of other temples exist in rome, but in some of the roman provinces far finer specimens of temples remain, of which perhaps the best is the maison carrée at nîmes (fig. 126). here we find the roman plan of a single cell and a deep portico in front, while the sides and rear have the columns attached. the intercolumniations and the details of the capitals and entablature are, however, almost pure greek. the date of this temple is uncertain, but it is most probable that it was erected during the reign of hadrian. the same emperor is said to have completed the magnificent temple of jupiter olympius at athens, which was 354 ft. long by 171 ft. wide. it consisted of a cell flanked on each side by a double row of detached columns; in front was one row of columns in antis, and three other rows in front of these, while there were also three rows in the rear: as the columns were of the corinthian order, and nearly 60 ft. in height, it may be imagined that it was a splendid edifice. [illustration: fig. 126.--roman-corinthian temple at nîmes (maison-carrée). probably of the time of hadrian.] the ruins of another magnificent provincial roman temple exist at baalbek--the ancient heliopolis--in syria, not far from damascus. this building was erected during the time of the antonines, probably by antoninus pius himself, and originally it must have been of very extensive dimensions, the portico alone being 180 ft. long and about 37 ft. deep. this gives access to a small hexagonal court, on the western side of which a triple gateway opens into the great court, which is a vast quadrangle about 450 ft. long by 400 ft. broad, with ranges of small chambers or niches on three sides, some of which evidently had at one time beautifully groined roofs. at the western end of this court, on an artificial elevation, stand the remains of what is called the great temple. this was originally 290 ft. long by 160 ft. wide, and had 54 columns supporting its roof, six only of which now remain erect. the height of these columns, including base and capital, is 75 ft., and their diameter is 7 ft. at base and about 6 ft. 6 in. at top; they are of the corinthian order, and above them rises an elaborately moulded entablature, 14 ft. in height. each of the columns is composed of three stones only, secured by strong iron cramps; and indeed one of the most striking features of this group of buildings is the colossal size of the stones used in their construction. the quarries from which these stones were hewn are close at hand, and in them is one stone surpassing all the others in magnitude, its dimensions being 68 ft. by 14 ft. 2 in. by 13 ft. 11 in. it is difficult to imagine what means can have existed for transporting so huge a mass, the weight of which has been calculated at 1100 tons. [illustration: fig. 127.--ground-plan of the temple of vesta at tivoli.] [illustration: fig. 128.--corinthian order from the temple of vesta at tivoli.] other smaller temples exist in the vicinity, all of which are lavishly decorated, but on the whole the ornamentation shows an exuberance of detail which somewhat offends a critical artistic taste. [illustration: fig. 129.--the temple of vesta at tivoli. plan (looking up) and section of part of the peristyle.] circular temples were an elegant variety, which seems to have been originated by the romans, and of which two well-known examples remain--the temples of vesta at rome and at tivoli. the columns of the temple at tivoli (fig. 128) form a well-known and pleasing variety of the corinthian order, and the circular form of the building as shown on the plan (fig. 127) gives excellent opportunities for good decorative treatment, as may be judged of by the enlarged diagram of part of the peristyle (fig. 129). _basilicas._ among the most remarkable of the public buildings of roman times, both in the mother-city and in the provinces, were the basilicas or halls of justice, which were also used as commercial exchanges. it is also believed that basilicas existed in some greek cities, but no clue to their structural arrangements exists, and whence originated the idea of the plan of these buildings we are unable to state; their striking similarity to some of the rock-cut halls or temples of india has been already pointed out. they were generally (though not always) covered halls, oblong in shape, divided into three or five aisles by two or more rows of columns, the centre aisle being much wider than those at the sides: over the latter, galleries were frequently erected. at one end was a semicircular recess or apse, the floor of which was raised considerably above the level of the rest of the building, and here the presiding magistrate sat to hear causes tried. four[20] of these buildings are mentioned by ancient writers as having existed in republican times, viz. the basilica portia, erected in b.c. 184, by cato the censor; the basilica emilia et fulvia, erected in b.c. 179 by the censors m. fulvius nobilior and m. æmilius lepidus, and afterwards enlarged and called the basilica paulli; the basilica sempronia, erected in b.c. 169 by tib. sempronius gracchus; and the basilica julia, erected by julius cæsar, b.c. 46. all these buildings had wooden roofs, and were of no great architectural merit, and they perished at a remote date. under the empire, basilicas of much greater size and magnificence were erected; and remains of that of trajan, otherwise called the basilica ulpia, have been excavated in the forum of trajan. this was about 360 ft. long by 180 ft. wide, had four rows of columns inside, and it supposed to have been covered by a semicircular wooden roof. apollodorus of damascus was the architect of this building. another basilica of which remains exist is that of maxentius, which after his overthrow by constantine in a.d. 312, was known as the basilica constantiniana. this structure was of stone, and had a vaulted roof; it was 195 ft. between the walls, and was divided into three aisles by piers with enormous columns standing in front of them. [illustration: fig. 130.--ground-plan of the basilica ulpia, rome.] one provincial basilica, that at trèves, still stands; and although it must have been considerably altered, it is by far the best existing example of this kind of building. the internal columns do not exist here, and it is simply a rectangular hall about 175 ft. by 85 ft., with the usual semicircular apse. the chief interest attaching to these basilicas lies in the fact that they formed the first places of christian assembly, and that they served as the model upon which the first christian churches were built. _theatres and amphitheatres._ although dramas and other plays were performed in rome as early as 240 b.c., there seems to have been a strong prejudice against permanent buildings for their representation, as it is recorded that a decree was passed in b.c. 154 forbidding the construction of such buildings. mummius, the conqueror of corinth, obtained permission to erect a wooden theatre for the performance of dramas as one of the shows of his triumph, and after this many buildings of the kind were erected, but all of a temporary nature; and it was not till b.c. 61 that the first permanent theatre was built by pompey. this, and the theatres of balbus and marcellus, appear to have been the only permanent theatres that were erected in imperial rome; and there are no remains of any but the last of these, and this is much altered. so that, were it not for the remains of theatres found at pompeii, it would be almost impossible to tell how they were arranged; but from these we can see that the stage was raised and separated from the part appropriated to the spectators by a semicircular area, much like that which in greek theatres was allotted to the chorus: in the roman ones this was assigned for the use of the senators. the portion devoted to the spectators--called the cavea--was also semicircular on plan, and consisted of tiers of steps rising one above the other, and divided at intervals by wide passages and converging staircases communicating with the porticoes, which ran round the whole theatre at every story. [illustration: fig. 131.--plan of the colosseum, rome.] at orange, in the south of france, are the remains of a very fine theatre, similar in plan to that described. the great wall which formed the back of the scene in this building is still standing, and is one of the most magnificent pieces of masonry existing. [illustration: fig. 132.--the colosseum. section and elevation.] although the romans were not particularly addicted to dramatic representations, yet they were passionately fond of shows and games of all kinds: hence, not only in rome itself, but in almost every roman settlement, from silchester to verona, are found traces of their amphitheatres, and the mother-city can claim the possession of the most stupendous fabric of the kind that was ever erected--the colosseum or flavian amphitheatre, which was commenced by vespasian and finished by his son titus. an amphitheatre is really a double theatre without a stage, and with the space in the centre unoccupied by seats. this space, which was sunk several feet below the first row of seats, was called the arena, and was appropriated to the various exhibitions which took place in the building. the plan was elliptical or oval, and this shape seems to have been universal. the colosseum, whose ruins still remain to attest its pristine magnificence- "arches on arches, as it were that rome, collecting the chief trophies of her line, would build up all her triumphs in one dome"[21]-was 620 ft. long and 513 wide, and the height was about 162 ft. it was situated in the hollow between the esquiline and cælian hills. the ranges of seats were admirably planned so as to enable all the audience to have a view of what was going on in the arena, and great skill was shown both in the arrangement of the approaches to the different tiers and in the structural means for supporting the seats, and double corridors ran completely round the building on each floor, affording ready means of exit. various estimates have been made of the number of spectators that could be accommodated, and these range from 50,000 to 100,000, but probably 80,000 was the maximum. recent excavations have brought to light the communications which existed between the arena and the dens where the wild animals and human slaves and prisoners were confined, and some of the water channels used when mimic sea-fights were exhibited. the external façade is composed of four stories, separated by entablatures that run completely round the building without a break. the three lower stories consist of a series of semicircular arched openings, eighty in number, separated by piers with attached columns in front of them, the doric order being used in the lowest story, the ionic in the second, and the corinthian in the third; the piers and columns are elevated on stylobates; the entablatures have a comparatively slight projection, and there are no projecting keystones in the arches. in the lowest range these openings are 13 ft. 4 in. wide, except the four which are at the ends of the two axes of the ellipse, and these are 14 ft. 6 in. wide. the diameter of the columns is 2 ft. 8¾ in. the topmost story, which is considerably more lofty than either of the lower ones, was a nearly solid wall enriched by corinthian pilasters. in this story occur two tiers of small square openings in the alternate spaces between the pilasters. these openings are placed accurately over the centres of the arches of the lower stories. immediately above the higher range of square openings are a series of corbels--three between each pair of pilasters--which probably received the ends of the poles carrying the huge awning which protected the spectators from the sun's rays. the whole is surmounted by a heavy cornice, in which, at intervals immediately over each corbel, are worked square mortise holes, forming sockets through which the poles of the awning passed. the stone of which the façade of the colosseum is built is a local stone, called travertine, the blocks of which are secured by iron cramps without cement. nearly all the internal portion of the building is of brick, and the floors of the corridors, &c., are paved with flat bricks covered with hard stucco. these amphitheatres were occasionally the scene of imitations of marine conflicts, when the arena was flooded with water and mimic vessels of war engaged each other. very complete arrangements were made, by means of small aqueducts, for leading the water into the arena and for carrying it off. apart from theatrical representations and gladiatorial combats, the romans had an inordinate passion for chariot races. for those the circi were constructed, of which class of buildings the circus maximus was the largest. this, originally laid out by tarquinius priscus, was reconstructed on a larger scale by julius cæsar. it was circular at one end and rectangular at the other, at which was the entrance. on both sides of the entrance were a number of small arched chambers, called _carceres_, from which the chariots started. the course was divided down the centre by a low wall, called the _spina_, which was adorned with various sculptures. the seats rose in a series of covered porticoes all round the course, except at the entrance. as the length of the circus maximus was nearly 700 yards, and the breadth about 135 yards, it is possible that dionysius may not have formed an exaggerated notion of its capacity when he says it would accommodate 150,000 spectators. in the roman provinces amphitheatres were often erected; and at pola in istria, verona in italy, and nîmes and arles in france, fine examples remain. a rude roman amphitheatre, with seats cut in the turf of a hill-side, exists to this day at the old town of dorchester in dorset, which was anciently a roman settlement. _baths (thermæ)._ nothing can give us a more impressive idea of the grandeur and lavish display of imperial rome than the remains of the huge thermæ, or bathing establishments, which still exist. between the years 10 a.d., when agrippa built the first public baths, and 324 a.d., when those of constantine were erected, no less than twelve of these vast establishments were erected by various emperors, and bequeathed to the people. of the whole number, the baths of caracalla and of diocletian are the only ones which remain in any state of preservation, and these were probably the most extensive and magnificent of all. all these splendid buildings were really nothing more than bribes to secure the favour of the populace; for it seems quite clear that the public had practically free entrance to them, the only charge mentioned by writers of the time being a quadrans, about a farthing of our money. gibbon says, "the meanest roman could purchase with a small copper coin the daily enjoyment of a scene of pomp and luxury which might excite the envy of the kings of asia." and this language is not exaggerated. not only were there private bath-rooms, swimming-baths, hot baths, vapour-baths, and, in fact, all the appurtenances of the most approved turkish baths of modern times, but there were also gymnasia, halls for various games, lecture-halls, libraries, and theatres in connection with the baths, all lavishly ornamented with the finest paintings and sculpture that could be obtained. stone seems to have been but sparingly used in the construction of these buildings, which were almost entirely of brick faced with stucco: this served as the ground for an elaborate series of fresco paintings. [illustration: fig. 133.--plan of the principal building, baths of caracalla, rome.] the baths of caracalla, at the foot of the aventine hill, erected a.d. 217, comprised a quadrangular block of buildings of about 1150 ft. (about the fifth of a mile) each way. the side facing the street consisted of a portico the whole length of the façade, behind which were numerous ranges of private bath-rooms. the side and rear blocks contained numerous halls and porticoes, the precise object of which it is now very difficult to ascertain. as byron says: "temples, baths, or halls? pronounce who can." this belt of buildings surrounded an open courtyard or garden, in which was placed the principal bathing establishment (fig. 133), a building 730 ft. by 380 ft., which contained the large piscina, or swimming-bath, various hot baths, dressing-rooms, gymnasia, and other halls for athletic exercises. in the centre of one of the longer sides was a large semicircular projection, roofed with a dome, which was lined with brass: this rotunda was called the solar cell. from the ruins of these baths were taken some of the most splendid specimens of antique sculpture, such as the farnese hercules and the flora in the museum of naples. the baths of diocletian, erected just at the commencement of the fourth century a.d., were hardly inferior to those of caracalla, but modern and ancient buildings are now intermingled to such an extent that the general plan of the buildings cannot now be traced with accuracy. there are said to have been over 3000 marble seats in these baths; the walls were covered with mosaics, and the columns were of egyptian granite and green numidian marble. the ephebeum, or grand hall, still exists as the church of santa maria degli angeli, having been restored by michelangelo. it is nearly 300 ft. long by 90 ft. wide, and is roofed by three magnificent cross vaults, supported on eight granite columns 45 ft. in height. (fig. 134.) there is one ancient building in rome more impressive than any other, not only because it is in a better state of preservation, but because of the dignity with which it has been designed, the perfection with which it has been constructed, and the effectiveness of the mode in which its interior is lighted. we allude to the pantheon. opinions differ as to whether this was a hall attached to the thermæ of agrippa, or whether it was a temple. without attempting to determine this point, we may at any rate claim that the interior of this building admirably illustrates the boldness and telling power with which the large halls forming part of the thermæ were designed; and, whether it belonged to such a building or not, it is wonderfully well fitted to illustrate this subject. [illustration: fig. 134.--interior of santa maria degli angeli, rome.] [illustration: fig. 135.--the pantheon, rome. ground-plan.] [illustration: fig. 136.--the pantheon, rome. exterior.] the pantheon is the finest example of a domed hall which we have left. the building, which forms the church of santa maria ad martyres, has been considerably altered at various times since its erection, and now consists of a rotunda with a rectangular portico in front of it. the rotunda was most probably erected by agrippa, the son-in-law of augustus, in b.c. 27, and is a most remarkable instance of clever construction at so early a date. the diameter of the interior is 145 ft. 6 in., and the height to the top of the dome is 147 ft. in addition to the entrance, the walls are broken up by seven large niches, three of which are semicircular on plan, and the others, alternating with them, rectangular. the walls are divided into two stories by an entablature supported by columns and pilasters; but although this is now cut through by the arches of the niches, it is at least probable that originally this was not the case, and that the entablature ran continuously round the walls, as shown in fig. 137, which is a restoration of the pantheon by adler. above the attic story rises the huge hemispherical dome, which is pierced at its summit by a circular opening 27 ft. in diameter, through which a flood of light pours down and illuminates the whole of the interior. the dome is enriched by boldly recessed panels, and these were formerly covered with bronze ornaments, which have been removed for the sake of the metal. the marble enrichments of the attic have also disappeared, and their place has been taken by common and tawdry decorations more adapted to the stage of a theatre. but notwithstanding everything that has been done to detract from the imposing effect of the building by the alteration of its details, there is still, taking it as a whole, a simple grandeur in the design, a magnificence in the material employed, and a quiet harmony in the illumination, that impart to the interior a character of sublimity which nothing can impair. the rectangular portico was added at some subsequent period, and consists of sixteen splendid corinthian columns (fig. 138), eight in front supporting the pediment, and the other eight dividing the portico into three bays, in precisely the same way as if it formed the pronaos to the three cells of an etruscan temple. [illustration: fig. 137.--the pantheon, rome. interior.] [illustration: fig. 138.--the corinthian order from the pantheon, rome.] _bridges and aqueducts._ the earliest roman bridges were of wood, and the pons sublicius, though often rebuilt, continued to be of this material until the time of pliny, but it was impossible for a people who made such use of the arch to avoid seeing the great advantage this form gave them in the construction of bridges, and several of these formed of stone spanned the tiber even before the time of the empire. the finest roman bridges, however, were built in the provinces. trajan constructed one over the danube which was 150 ft. high and 60 ft. wide, and the arches of which were of no less than 170 ft. span. this splendid structure was destroyed by his successor, hadrian, who was probably jealous of it. the bridge over the tagus at alcantara, which was constructed by hadrian, is another very fine example. there were six arches here, of which the two centre ones had a span of 100 ft. the roman aqueducts afford striking evidence of the building enterprise and architectural skill of the people. pliny says of these works: "if any one will carefully consider the quantity of water used in the open air, in private baths, swimming-baths, houses, gardens, &c., and thinks of the arches that have been built, the hills that have been tunnelled, and the valleys that have been levelled for the purpose of conducting the water to its destination, he must confess that nothing has existed in the world more calculated to excite admiration." the same sentiment strikes an observer of to-day when looking at the ruins of these aqueducts. at the end of the first century a.d. we read of nine aqueducts in rome, and in the time of procopius (a.d. 550) there were fourteen in use. of these, the aqua claudia and the anio novus were the grandest and most costly. those were constructed about the year 48 a.d., and entered the city upon the same arches, though at different levels, the aqua claudia being the lower. the arches carrying the streams were over nine miles long, and in some cases 109 ft. high. they were purely works of utility, and had no architectural decorations; but they were most admirably adapted for their purpose, and were so solidly constructed, that portions of them are still in use. some of the provincial aqueducts, such as those of tarragona and segovia in spain, were more ornamental, and had a double tier of arches. the pont du gard, not far from nîmes, in france, is a well-known and very picturesque structure of this character. _commemorative monuments._ these comprise triumphal arches, columns, and tombs. the former consisted of a rectangular mass of masonry having sculptured representations of the historical event to be commemorated, enriched with attached columns on pedestals, supporting an entablature crowned with a high attic, on which there was generally an inscription. in the centre was the wide and lofty arched opening. the arch of titus, recording the capture of jerusalem, is one of the finest examples. later on triumphal arches were on a more extended scale, and comprised a small arch on each side of the large one; examples of which may be seen in the arches of septimius severus and of constantine (fig. 139). the large arched gateways which are met with in various parts of europe--such as the porte d'arroux at autun, and the porta nigra at trèves--are monuments very similar to triumphal arches. there remain also smaller monuments of the same character, such as the so-called arch of the goldsmiths in rome (fig. 1). [illustration: fig. 139.--the arch of constantine, rome.] columns were erected in great numbers during the time of the emperors as memorials of victory. of these the column of trajan and that of marcus aurelius are the finest. the former was erected in the centre of trajan's forum, in commemoration of the emperor's victory over the dacians. it is of the doric order, 132 ft. 10 in. high, including the statue. the shaft is constructed of thirty-four pieces of marble joined with bronze cramps. the figures on the pedestal are very finely carved, and the entire shaft is encircled by a series of elaborate bas-reliefs winding round it in a spiral from its base to its capital. the beauty of the work on this shaft may be best appreciated by a visit to the cast of it set up--in two heights, unfortunately--at the south kensington museum. the column of marcus aurelius, generally known as the antonine column, is similarly enriched, but is not equal to the trajan column. the survival of etruscan habits is clearly seen in the construction of roman tombs, which existed in enormous numbers outside the gates of the city. merivale says: "the sepulchres of twenty generations lined the sides of the high-roads for several miles beyond the gates, and many had considerable architectural pretensions." that of cecilia metella is a typical example. here we find a square basement surmounted by a circular tower-like structure, with a frieze and cornice. this was erected about b.c. 60, by crassus. the mausoleum of augustus was on a much more extensive scale, and consisted of four cylindrical stories, one above the other, decreasing in diameter as they ascended, and the topmost of all was crowned with a colossal statue of the emperor. the tomb of hadrian, on the banks of the tiber--now known as the castle of sant' angelo--was even more magnificent. this comprised a square base, 75 ft. high, the side of which measured about 340 ft.; above this was a cylindrical building surmounted by a circular peristyle of thirty-four corinthian columns. on the top was a quadriga with a statue of the emperor. these mausolea were occasionally octagonal or polygonal in plan, surmounted by a dome, and cannot fail to remind us of the etruscan tumuli. another kind of tomb, of less magnificence, was the columbarium, which was nothing more than a subterranean chamber, the walls of which had a number of small apertures in them for receiving the cinerary urns containing the ashes of the bodies which had been cremated. in the eastern portion of the empire, in rocky districts, the tombs were cut in the rock, and the façade was elaborately decorated with columns and other architectural features. _domestic architecture._ of all the palaces which the roman emperors built for themselves, and which we know from historical records to have been of the most magnificent description, nothing now remains in rome itself that is not too completely ruined to enable any one to restore its plan with accuracy, though considerable remains exist of the palace of the cæsars on the palatine hill. in fact, the palace of diocletian at spalatro, in dalmatia, is the only remaining example in the whole of the roman empire of the dwelling-house of an emperor, and even this was not built till after diocletian had resigned the imperial dignity, so that its date is the early part of the fourth century a.d. this palace is a rectangle, measuring about 700 ft. one way and 590 ft. the other, and covers an area of nearly 10 acres. it is surrounded by high walls, broken at intervals by square and octagonal towers, and contains temples, baths, and extensive galleries, besides the private apartments of the emperor and dwellings for the principal officers of the household. the architect of this building broke away from classical traditions to a great extent; for example, the columns stand on corbels instead of pedestals, the entablatures being much broken, and the arches spring directly from the capitals of the columns (fig. 149). the private houses in borne were of two kinds: the _insula_ and the _domus_. the insula was a block of buildings several stories high, frequently let out to different families in flats. the ground-floor was generally given up to shops, which had no connection with the upper parts of the building; and one roof covered the whole. this kind of house was generally tenanted by the poorer class of tradesmen and artificers. the other kind of house, the domus, was a detached mansion. the excavations at pompeii have done much to elucidate a number of points in connection with roman dwellings which had been the subject of much discussion by scholars, but we must not too hastily assume that the pompeian houses are the exact counterpart of those of ancient rome, as pompeii was what may be called a romano-greek city. [illustration: fig. 140.--ground-plan of the house of pansa, pompeii.] [illustration: fig. 141.--ground-plan of the house of the tragic poet, pompeii.] the general arrangements of a roman house were as follows: next the street an open space was frequently left, with porticoes on each side of it provided with seats: this constituted the vestibule, and was entirely outside the house;[22] the entrance-door opened into a narrow passage, called the _prothyrum_, which led to the _atrium_,[23] which in the houses of republican rome was the principal apartment, though afterwards it served as a sort of waiting-room for the clients and retainers of the house; it was an open court, roofed in on all the four sides, but open to the sky in the centre. the simplest form was called the tuscan atrium, where the roof was simply a lean-to sloping towards the centre, the rafters being supported on beams, two of which rested on the walls of the atrium, and had two other cross-beams trimmed into them. the centre opening was called the _impluvium_, and immediately under it a tank, called the _compluvium_, was formed in the pavement to collect the rain-water (fig. 142). when the atrium became larger, and the roof had to be supported by columns, it was called a _cavædium_.[24] at the end of this apartment were three others, open in front, the largest, in the centre, called _tablinum_, and the two side ones _alæ_;[25] these were muniment-rooms, where all the family archives were kept, and their position is midway between the semi-public part of the house, which lay towards the front, and the strictly domestic and private part, which lay in the rear. at the sides of the atrium in the larger houses were placed small rooms, which served as sleeping chambers. [illustration: fig. 142.--the atrium of a pompeian house.] from the end of the atrium a passage, or sometimes two passages, called the _fauces_, running by the side of the tablinum, led to the _peristylium_,[26] which was the grand private reception-room; this also was a court open to the sky in the centre, and among the wealthy romans its roof was supported by columns of the rarest marbles. round the peristyle were grouped the various private rooms, which varied according to the size of the house and the taste of the owner. there was always one dining-room (_triclinium_), and frequently two or more, which were arranged with different aspects, for use in different seasons of the year. if several dining-rooms existed, they were of various sizes and decorated with various degrees of magnificence; and a story is told of one of the most luxurious romans of cicero's time, that he had simply to tell his slaves which room he would dine in for them to know what kind of banquet he wished to be prepared. in the largest houses there were saloons (_æci_), parlours (_exedræ_), picture galleries (_pinacothecæ_), chapels (_lararia_), and various other apartments. the kitchen, with scullery and bakehouse attached, was generally placed in one angle of the peristyle, round which various sleeping-chambers, according to the size of the house, were arranged. most of the rooms appear to have been on the ground-floor, and probably depended for their light upon the doorway only; though in some instances at pompeii small windows exist high up in the walls. [illustration: fig. 143.--wall decoration from pompeii.] in the extreme rear of the larger houses there was generally a garden; and in those which were without this, the dead walls in the rear were frequently painted so as to imitate a garden. the houses of the wealthy romans were decorated with the utmost magnificence: marble columns, mosaic pavements, and charming pieces of sculpture adorned their apartments, and the walls were in all cases richly painted (fig. 143), being divided into panels, in the centre of which were represented sometimes human figures, sometimes landscapes, and sometimes pictures of historical events. all the decoration of roman houses was internal only: the largest and most sumptuous mansion had little to distinguish it, next the street, from a comparatively humble abode; and, with the exception of the space required for the vestibule and entrance doorway, nearly the whole of the side of the house next the street was most frequently appropriated to shops. all that we are able to learn of the architecture of roman private houses, whether from contemporary descriptions or from the uncovered remains of pompeii and herculaneum,[27] points to the fact that it, even in a greater measure than the public architecture, was in no sense of indigenous growth, but was simply a copy of greek arrangement and greek decoration. footnotes: [20] the passage in varro, which is the sole authority for the basilica opimia, is generally considered to be corrupt. [21] byron. [22] this does not occur in the pompeian houses. [23] marked _a_, _a_, on the plans. [24] vitruvius, however, seems to use the terms _atrium_ and _cavædium_ as quite synonymous. [25] marked respectively _c_, and _f_, _f_, on the plan of the house of pansa. [26] marked _b_, _b_, on the plans. [27] at the crystal palace can be seen an interesting reproduction of a pompeian house, which was designed by the late sir digby wyatt. it gives a very faithful reproduction of the arrangement and the size of an average pompeian house; and though every part is rather more fully covered with decoration than was usual in the originals, the decorations of each room faithfully reproduce the treatment of some original in pompeii or herculaneum. [illustration: fig. 144.--carving from the forum of nerva, rome.] chapter x. roman architecture. _analysis._ _the plan_ (_or floor-disposition_).--the plans of roman buildings are striking from their variety and the vast extent which in some cases they display, as well as from a certain freedom, mastery, and facility of handling which are not seen in earlier work. their variety is partly due to the very various purposes which the buildings of the romans were designed to serve: these comprised all to which greek buildings had been appropriated, and many others, the product of the complex and luxurious civilisation of the empire. but independent of this circumstance, the employment of such various forms in the plans of buildings as the ellipse, the circle, and the octagon, and their facile use, seem to denote a people who could build rapidly, and who looked carefully to the general masses and outlines of what they built, however carelessly they handled the minute details. the freedom with which these new forms were employed arises partly also from the fact that the romans were in possession of a system of construction which rendered them practically independent of most of the restrictions which had fettered the genius of the egyptians, assyrians, and greeks. their vaulted roofs could be supported by a comparatively small number of piers of great solidity, placed far apart; and accordingly in the great halls of the thermæ and elsewhere we find planning in which, a few stable points of support being secured, the outline of the spaces between them is varied at the pleasure of the architect in the most picturesque and pleasing manner. the actual floor received a good deal of attention from the romans. it was generally covered with tesselated pavement, often with mosaic, and its treatment entered into the scheme of the design for most interiors. _the walls._ the construction of these was essentially different from that adopted by most earlier nations. the romans rather avoided than cultivated the use of large blocks of stone; they invented methods by which very small materials could be aggregated together into massive and solid walls. they used mortar of great cementing power, so much so that many specimens of roman walling exist in this country as well as in italy or france, where the mortar is as hard as the stones which it unites. they also employed a system of binding together the small materials so employed by introducing, at short distances apart, courses of flat stones or bricks, called "bond courses," and they further fortified such walls by bands of flat materials placed edgeways after the manner popularly known as herring-bone work. the result of these methods of construction was that the roman architect could build anywhere, no matter how unpromising the materials which the locality afforded; that he could put the walls of his building together without its being requisite to employ exclusively the skilled labour of the mason, and that both time and expense were thus saved. this economy and speed were not pushed so far as to render the work anything but durable; they had, however, a bad effect in another direction, for these rough rubble walls were habitually encased in some more sightly material, in order to make them look as though they were something finer than they really were; and accordingly, the exterior was often faced with a thin skin of masonry, and not infrequently plastered. the interior was also almost invariably plastered, but to this little exception can be taken. this casing of the exteriors was, however, the beginning of a system of what may be called false architecture, and one which led to much that was degrading to the art. the walls were in many cases, it has been already observed, gathered into strong masses, such as it is customary to term piers, in order to support the vaulted roofs at the proper points. they were often carried to a much greater height than in greek buildings, and they played altogether a far more important part in the design of roman buildings than they had done in that of the greeks. _the roofs._ as has been already stated, the romans, in their possession of a new system of construction, enjoyed a degree of freedom which was unknown before. this system was based upon the use of the arch, and arched roofs and domes, and it enabled the romans to produce interiors unapproached before for size and splendour, and such as have hardly been surpassed since, except by the vaulted churches of the middle ages,--buildings which are themselves descended from roman originals. the art of vaulting was, in short, the key to the whole system of roman architecture, just as the orders were to that of the greeks. the well-known arch over the cloaca maxima at rome (fig. 123, p. 142) may be taken as an illustration of the most ancient and most simple kind of vault, the one which goes by the significant name of "barrel or waggon-head vault." this is simply a continuous arched vault springing from the top of two parallel walls; in fact, like the arch of a railway tunnel. such a vault may be constructed of very great span, and affords a means of putting a permanent roof over a floor the outline of which is a parallelogram; but it is heavy and uninteresting in appearance. it was soon found to be possible to introduce a cross vault running at right angles to the original one; and where such an intersecting vault occurs the side walls of the original vault may be dispensed with, for so much of their length as the newly-added vault spans. the next step was to introduce a succession of such cross vaults close to one another, so that large portions of the original main wall might be dispensed with. what remained of the side walls was now only a series of oblong masses or piers, suitably fortified so as to carry the great weight resting upon them, but leaving the architect free to occupy the space between them as his fancy might dictate, or to leave it quite open. in this way were constructed the great halls of the thermæ; and the finest halls of modern classic architecture--such, for example, as the madeleine at paris, or st. george's hall at liverpool--are only a reproduction of the splendid structures which such a system of vaulting rendered possible. when the floor of the space to be vaulted was circular, the result of covering it with an arched roof was the dome--a familiar feature of roman architecture, and the noblest of all forms of roof. we possess in the dome of the pantheon a specimen, in fairly good preservation, of this kind of roof on the grandest scale. we shall find that in later ages the dome and the vault were adopted by the eastern and the western schools of christian architecture respectively. in rome we have the origin of both. _the openings._ these were both square-headed and arched; but the arched ones occur far more frequently than the others, and, when occasion required, could be far bolder. the openings became of much greater importance than in earlier styles, and soon disputed with the columns the dignity of being the feature of the building: this eventually led, as will be related under the next head, to various devices for the fusion of the two. the adoption of the arch by the romans led to a great modification in classic architecture; for its influence was to be traced in every part of the structure where an opening of any sort had to be spanned. formerly the width of such openings was very limited, owing to the difficulty of obtaining lintels of great length. now their width and height were pure matters of choice, and doorways, windows, and arcades naturally became very prominent, and were often very spacious. _the columns._ these necessarily took an altered place as soon as buildings were carried to such a height that one order could not, as in greek temples, occupy the whole space from pavement to roof. the greek orders were modified by the romans in order to fit these altered circumstances, but columnar construction was by no means disused when the arch came to play so important a part in building. the roman doric order, and a very simple variety of it called tuscan, were but rarely used. the chief alteration from the greek doric, in addition to a general degradation of all the mouldings and proportions, was the addition of a base, which sometimes consists of a square plinth and large torus, sometimes is a slightly modified attic base; the capital has a small moulding round the top of the abacus, and under the ovolo are two or three small fillets with a necking below; the shaft was from 6 to 7 diameters in height, and was not fluted; the frieze was ornamented with triglyphs, and the metopes between these were frequently enriched with sculptured heads of bulls: the metopes were exact squares, and the triglyphs at the angles of buildings were placed precisely over the centre of the column. the ionic order was but slightly modified by the romans, the chief alteration being made in the capital. instead of forming the angular volutes so that they exhibited a flat surface on the two opposite sides of the capital, the romans appear to have desired to make the latter uniform on all the four sides; they therefore made the sides of the abacus concave on plan, and arranged the volutes so that they seemed to spring out of the mouldings under the abacus and faced anglewise. the capital altogether seems compressed and crowded up, and by no means elegant; in fact, both this and the doric order were decidedly deteriorations from the fine forms of greek architecture. [illustration: fig. 145.--roman corinthian capital and base from the temple of vesta at tivoli.] [illustration: fig. 145a.--the roman composite capital.] the corinthian order was much more in accordance with the later roman taste for magnificence and display, and hence we find its use very general both in rome and in other cities of the empire. its proportions did not greatly differ from those of the greek corinthian, but the mouldings in general were more elaborate. numerous variations of the capital exist (figs. 145, 145a), but the principal one was an amalgamation of the large ionic volutes in the upper with the acanthus leaves of the lower portion of the capital: this is known as the composite order, and the capital thus treated has a strength and vigour which was wanting to the greek order (see fig. 145a). the shafts of the columns were more often fluted than not, though sometimes the lower portion was left plain and the upper only fluted. the attic base was generally used, but an example has been found of an adaptation of the graceful persepolitan base to the corinthian column. this was the happiest innovation that the romans made; it seems, however, to have been but an individual attempt, and, as it was introduced very shortly before the fall of the empire, the idea was not worked out. the orders thus changed were employed for the most part as mere decorative additions to the walls. in many cases they did not even carry the eaves of the roof, as they always did in a greek temple; and it was not uncommon for two, three, or more orders to be used one above another, marking the different stories of a lofty building. the columns, or pilasters which took their place, being reduced to the humble function of ornaments added to the wall of a building, it became very usual to combine them with arched openings, and to put an arch in the interspace between two columns, or, in other words, to add a column to the pier between two arches (fig. 146). these arched openings being often wide, a good deal of disproportion between the height of the columns and their distance apart was liable to occur; and, partly to correct this, the column was often mounted upon a pedestal, to which the name of "stylobate" has been given. it was also sometimes customary to place above the order, or the highest order where more than one was employed, what was termed an attic--a low story ornamented with piers or pilasters. the exterior of the colosseum (fig. 5), the triumphal arches of constantine (fig. 139) and titus, and the fragments of the upper part of the forum of nerva (fig. 147) may be consulted as illustrations of the combination of an order and an arched opening, and of the use of pedestals and attics. [illustration: fig. 146.--part of the theatre of marcellus, rome. showing the combination of columns and arched openings.] [illustration: fig. 147.--from the ruins of the forum of nerva, rome. showing the use of an attic story. with plan.] another peculiarity, of which we give an illustration from the baths of diocletian (fig. 148), was the surmounting a column or pilaster with a square pillar of stone, moulded in the same way as an entablature, _i.e._ with the regular division into architrave, frieze, and cornice. this was a decided perversion of the use of the order; it occurs in examples of late date. so also do various other arrangements for making an arch spring from the capital of a column; one of these, from the palace of diocletian at spalatro, we are able to illustrate (fig. 149). [illustration: fig. 148.--from the baths of diocletian, rome. showing a fragmentary entablature at the starting of part of a vault.] [illustration: fig. 149.--from the palace of diocletian, spalatro. showing an arch springing from a column.] in conclusion, it may be worth while to say that the roman writers and architects recognised five orders: the tuscan, doric, ionic, corinthian, and composite, the first and last in this list being, however, really only variations; and that when they placed the orders above one another, they invariably used those of them which they selected in the succession in which they have been named; that is to say, the tuscan or doric lowest, and so on in succession. [illustration: fig. 150.--mouldings and ornaments from various roman buildings.] _the ornaments._ [illustration: fig. 151.--roman carving. an acanthus leaf.] [illustration: fig. 152.--the egg and dart enrichment. roman.] the mouldings with which roman buildings are ornamented are all derived from greek originals, but are often extremely rough and coarse. it is true that in some old roman work, especially in those of the tombs which are executed in marble, mouldings of considerable delicacy and refinement of outline occur, but these are exceptional. the profiles of the mouldings are, as a rule, segments of circles, instead of being more subtle curves, and the result is that violent contrasts of light and shade are obtained, telling enough at a distance, but devoid of interest if the spectator come near. [illustration: fig. 153.--wall decoration of (so-called) arabesque character from pompeii.] carving is executed exactly on the same principles as those which govern the mouldings--that is to say, with much more coarseness than in greek work; not lacking in vigour, or in a sort of ostentatious opulence of ornament, but often sadly deficient in refinement and grace. statues, many of them copies of greek originals, generally executed with a heavy hand, but sometimes clearly of greek work, were employed, as well as bronzes, inlaid marbles, mosaics, and various devices to ornament the interiors of greco-roman buildings; and free use was made of ornamental plaster-work, both on walls and vaults. coloured decoration was much in vogue, and, to judge from what has come down to us, must have been executed with great taste and much spirit. the walls of a roman dwelling-house of importance seem to have been all painted, partly with that light kind of decoration to which the somewhat inappropriate name of arabesque has been given, and partly with groups or single figures, relieved by dark or black backgrounds. the remains of the palace of the cæsars in rome, much of it not now accessible, and the decorations visible at pompeii, give a high idea of the skill with which this mural ornamentation was executed; our illustration (fig. 154) may be taken as affording a good example of the combined decorations in relief and colour often applied to vaulted ceilings. it is, however, characteristic of the lower level at which roman art stood as compared with greek that, though statues abounded, we find no traces of groups of sculpture designed to occupy the pediments of temples, or of bas-reliefs fitted to special localities in the buildings, such as were all but universal in the best greek works. _architectural character._ the nature of this will have been to a large extent gathered from the observations already made. daring, energy, readiness, structural skill, and a not too fastidious taste were characteristic of the roman architect and his works. we find traces of vast spaces covered, bold construction successfully and solidly carried out, convenience studied, and a great deal of magnificence attained in those buildings the remains of which have come down to us; but we do not discover refinement or elegance, a fine feeling for proportion, or a close attention to details, to a degree at all approaching the extent to which these qualities are to be met with in greek buildings. we are thus sometimes tempted to regret that it was not possible to combine a higher degree of refinement with the great excellence in construction and contrivance exhibited by roman architecture. [illustration: fig. 154.--decoration in relief and colour of the vault of a tomb in the via latina, near rome.] [illustration: fig. 155.--basilica-church of san miniato, florence.] chapter xi. early christian architecture. _basilicas in rome and italy._ during the first three centuries the christian religion was discredited and persecuted; and though many interesting memorials of this time (some of them having an indirect bearing upon architectural questions) remain in the catacombs, it is chiefly for their paintings that the touching records of the past which have been preserved to us in these secluded excavations should be studied. early in the fourth century constantine the great became emperor, and in the course of his reign (from a.d. 312 to 337) he recognised christianity, and made it the religion of the state. it then, of course, became requisite to provide places of public worship. probably the christians would have been, in many cases, reluctant to make use of heathen temples, and few temples, if any, were adapted to the assembling of a large congregation. but the large halls of the baths and the basilicas were free from associations of an objectionable character, and well fitted for large assemblages of worshippers. these and other such places were accordingly, in the first instance, employed as christian churches. the basilica, however, became the model which, at least in italy, was followed, to the exclusion of all others, when new buildings were erected for the purpose of christian worship; and during the fourth century, and several succeeding ones, the churches of the west were all of the basilica type. what occurred at constantinople, the seat of the eastern empire and the centre of the eastern church, will be considered presently. there is probably no basilica actually standing which was built during the reign of constantine, or near his time; but there are several basilica churches in rome, such as that of san clemente, which were founded near his time, and which, though they have been partially or wholly rebuilt, exhibit what is believed to be the ancient disposition without modification. [illustration: fig. 156.--interior of a basilica at pompeii. _restored, from descriptions by various authors._] access is obtained to san clemente through a forecourt to which the name of the atrium is given. this is very much like the atrium of a roman house, being covered with a shed roof round all four sides and open in the centre, and so resembling a cloister. the side next the church was called the narthex or porch; and when an atrium did not exist, a narthex at least was usually provided. the basilica has always a central avenue, or nave, and sides or aisles, and was generally entered from the narthex by three doors, one to each division. the nave of san clemente is lofty, and covered by a simple wooden roof; it is separated from the side aisles by arcades, the arches of which spring from the capitals of columns; and high up in its side walls we find windows. the side aisles, like the nave, have wooden roofs. the nave terminates in a semicircular recess called "the apse," the floor of which is higher than that of the general structure, and is approached by steps. a large arch divides this apse from the nave. a portion of the nave floor is occupied by an enclosed space for the choir, surrounded by marble screens, and having a pulpit on either side of it. these pulpits are termed "ambos." below the church of san clemente is a vaulted structure or crypt extending under the greater part, but not the whole, of the floor of the main building. the description given above would apply, with very slight variations, to any one of the many ancient basilica churches in rome, milan, ravenna, and the other older cities of italy; the principal variations being that in many instances, including the very ancient basilica of st. peter, now destroyed, the avenues all stopped short of the end wall of the basilica, and a wide and clear transverse space or transept ran athwart them in front of the apse. san clemente indeed shows some faint traces of such a feature. in one or two very large churches five avenues occur,--that is to say, a nave and double aisles; and in santa agnese (fig. 156a) and at least one other, we find a gallery over the side aisles opening into the nave, or, as mr. fergusson puts it, "the side aisles in two stories." in many instances we should find no atrium, but in all cases we meet with the nave and aisles, and the apse at the end of the nave, with its arch and its elevated floor; and the entrances are always at the end of the building farthest from the apse, with some sort of porch or portal. [illustration: fig. 156a.--basilica, or early christian church of santa agnese at rome.] the interest of these buildings lies not so much in their venerable antiquity as in the fact that the arrangements of all christian churches in western europe down to the reformation, and of very many since, are directly derived from these originals. if the reader will refer to the description of a gothic cathedral in the companion volume of this series,[28] it will not be difficult for him to trace the correspondence between its plan and its general structure and those of the primitive basilica. the atrium no longer forms the access to a cathedral, but it still survives in the cloister, though in a changed position. the narthex or porch is still more or less traceable in the great western portals, and in a kind of separation which often, but not always, exists between the westernmost bay of a cathedral and the rest of the structure. the division into nave and aisles remains, and in very large churches and cathedrals there are double aisles, as there were in the largest basilicas. the nave roof is still higher than the aisles--the arcade, in two stories, survives in the usual arcade and triforium; the windows placed high in the nave are the present clerestory. the apsidal termination of the central avenue is still retained in almost all continental architecture, though in great britain, from an early date, it was abandoned for a square east end; but square-ended or apsidal, a recess with a raised floor and a conspicuous arch, marking it off from the nave, always occupies this end of the church; and the under church, or crypt, is commonly, though not always, met with. the enclosure for the choir has, generally speaking, been moved farther east than it was in the basilica churches; though in westminster abbey, and in most spanish cathedrals, we have examples of its occupying a position closely analogous to that of the corresponding enclosure at the basilica of san clemente. the cross passage to which we have referred as having existed in the old basilica of st. peter, and many others, is the original of the transept which in later churches has been made more conspicuous than it was in the basilica by being lengthened so as to project beyond the side walls of the church, and by being moved more westward. lastly, the two ambos, or pulpits, survive in two senses. they are represented by the reading desk and the pulpit, and their situation and purpose are continued in the epistle and gospel sides of the choir. the one point in which an essential difference occurs is the position of the altar, or communion table, and that of the bishop's chair, or throne. in the classic basilica the apse was the tribunal, and a raised seat with a tesselated pavement occupied the central position in it, and was the justice-seat of the presiding judge; and in the sweep of the apse, seats right and left, at a lower elevation, were provided for assessors or assistant-judges. in front of the president was placed a small altar. the whole of these arrangements were copied in the basilica churches. the seat of the president became the bishop's throne, the seats for assessors were appropriated to the clergy, and the altar retained substantially its old position in front of the apse, generally with a canopy erected over it. this disposition continues in basilica churches to the present day. at st. peter's in rome, for example, the pope occupies a throne in the middle of the apse, and says mass with his face turned towards the congregation at the high altar, which stands in front of his throne under a vast baldacchino or canopy; but in western christendom generally a change has been made,--the altar has been placed in the apse where the bishop's throne formerly stood, and the throne of the bishop and stalls of his clergy have been displaced, and are to be found at the sides of the choir or presbytery. [illustration: fig. 157.--sant' apollinare, ravenna. part of the arcade and apse.] many basilica churches were erected out of fragments taken from older buildings, and present a curious mixture of columns, capitals, &c.; others, especially those at ravenna, exhibit more care, and are noble specimens of ancient and severe architectural work. the illustration which we give of part of the nave, arcade, and apse of one of these, sant' apollinare in classe, shows the dignified yet ornate aspect of one of the most carefully executed of these buildings (fig. 157). in some of these churches the decorations are chiefly in mosaic, and are extremely striking. our illustration of the apse of the great basilica of st. paul without the walls (fig. 158) may be taken as a fair specimen of the general arrangement and treatment of the crowd of sacred figures and subjects which it is customary to represent in these situations; but it can of course convey no idea of the brilliant effect produced by powerful colouring executed in mosaic, the most luminous of all methods of enrichment. the floor of most of them was formed in the style of mosaic known as "opus alexandrinum," and the large sweeping, curved bands of coloured material with which the main outlines of the patterns are defined, and the general harmony of colour among the porphyries and other hard stones with which these pavements were executed, combine to satisfy the eye. a splendid specimen of opus alexandrinum, the finest north of the alps, exists in the presbytery of westminster abbey. [illustration: fig. 158.--apse of the basilica of st. paul without the walls, rome.] another description of building is customarily met with in connection with early christian churches,--the baptistery. this is commonly a detached building, and almost always circular or polygonal. in some instances the baptistery adjoins the atrium or forecourt; but it soon became customary to erect detached baptisteries of considerable size. these generally have a high central portion carried by a ring of columns, and a low aisle running round, the receptacle for water being in the centre. the origin of these buildings is not so clear as that of the basilica churches; they bear some resemblance to the roman circular temples; but it is more probable that the form was suggested by buildings similar in general arrangement, and forming part of a roman bath. the octagonal building known as the baptistery of constantine, and the circular building now used as a church and dedicated to santa costanza in rome, and the celebrated baptistery of ravenna, are early examples of this class of structure. somewhat more recent, and very well known, are the great baptisteries of florence and pisa. a few ancient circular or polygonal churches remain which do not appear to have been built as baptisteries. one of these is at rome, the church of san stefano rotondo; but another, more remarkable in every way, is at ravenna, the church of san vitale. this is an octagonal building, with a large vestibule and a small apsidal choir. the central portion, carried by eight arches springing from as many lofty and solid piers, and surmounted by a hemispherical dome, rises high above the aisle which surrounds it. much elegance is produced by the arrangement of smaller columns so as to form a kind of apsidal recess in each of the interspaces between the eight main piers. another feature which has become thoroughly identified with church architecture is the bell-tower, or campanile. this appendage, there can be no doubt, originated with the basilicas of italy. the use of bells as a call to prayer is said to have been introduced not later, at any rate, than the sixth century, and to this era is attributed a circular campanile belonging to sant' apollinare in classe at ravenna, a basilica already alluded to. the circular plan was, however, exceptional; the ancient campaniles remaining in rome are all square; they are usually built of brick, many stories in height, and with a group of arched openings in each story, and are generally surmounted by a low conical roof. the type of church which we have described influenced church architecture in italy down to the eleventh century, and such buildings as the beautiful church (fig. 155) of san miniato, near florence (a.d. 1013), and the renowned group of cathedral, baptistery, campanile, and campo santo (a kind of cloistered cemetery) at pisa, bear a very strong resemblance in many respects to these originals; though they belong rather to the romanesque than to the basilican division of early christian architecture. footnote: [28] 'gothic and renaissance architecture,' chap. ii. p. 6. [illustration: fig. 158a.--frieze from the monastery at fulda.] chapter xii. byzantine architecture. constantine the great, who by establishing the christian religion had encouraged the erection of basilicas for christian worship in rome and italy, effected a great political change, and one destined to exert a marked influence upon christian architecture, when he removed the seat of empire from rome to byzantium, and called the new capital constantinople,[29] after his own name. byzantium had been an ancient place, but was almost in ruins when constantine, probably attracted by the unrivalled advantages of its site,[30] rebuilt it, or at least re-established it as a city. the solemn inauguration of constantinople as the new capital took place a.d. 330; and when, under theodosius, the empire was divided, this city became the capital of the east. with a new point of departure among a people largely of greek race, we might expect that a new development of the church from some other type than the basilica might be likely to show itself. this, in fact, is what occurred; for while the most ancient churches of rome all present, as we have seen, an almost slavish copy of an existing type of building, and do not attempt the use of vaulted roofs, in byzantium buildings of most original design sprang up, founded, it is true, on roman originals, but by no means exact copies of them. in the erection of these churches the most difficult problems of construction were successfully encountered and solved. what may have been the course which architecture ran during the two centuries between the refounding of byzantium and the building of santa sophia under justinian, we can, however, only infer from its outcome. it is doubtful if any church older than the sixth century now remains in constantinople; but it is certain that, to attain the power of designing and erecting so great a work as santa sophia, the architects of constantinople must have continued and largely modified the roman practice of building vaults and domes. there is every probability that if some of the early churches in byzantium were domed structures others may have been vaulted basilicas; the more so as the very ancient churches in syria, which owed their origin to byzantium rather than to rome, are most of them of the basilica type. [illustration: fig. 159.--church of santa sophia at constantinople. long section. built under justinian by anthemios and isidoros. completed a.d. 537.] a church which had been erected by constantine, dedicated to santa sophia (holy wisdom), was burnt early in the reign of justinian (a.d. 527 to 565); and in rebuilding it his architects, anthemios of thralles, and isidoros of miletus, succeeded in erecting one of the most famous buildings of the world, and one which is the typical and central embodiment of a distinct and very strongly marked well-defined style. the basis of this style may be said to be the adoption of the dome, in preference to the vault or the timber roof, as the covering of the space enclosed within the walls; with the result that the general disposition of the plan is circular or square, rather than oblong, and that the structure recalls the pantheon more than the great hall of the thermæ of diocletian, or the basilica of st. paul. in santa sophia one vast flattish dome dominates the central space. this dome is circular in plan, and the space over which it is placed is a square, the sides of which are occupied by four massive semicircular arches of 100 ft. span each, springing from four vast piers, one at each of the four corners. the four triangular spaces between the corners of the square so enclosed and the circle or ring resting upon it are filled by what are termed "pendentives"--features which may, perhaps, be best described as portions of a dome, each just sufficient to fit into one corner of the square, and the four uniting at their upper margin to form a ring. from this ring springs the main dome. it rises to a height of 46 ft., and is 107 ft. in clear diameter. east and west of the main dome are two half-domes, each springing from a wall apsidal (_i.e._ semicircular) in plan. smaller apses again, domed over at a lower level, are introduced, and vaulted aisles two stories in height occupy the sides of the space within the outer walls till the outline of the building is brought to very nearly an exact square. externally this church is uninteresting,[31] but its interior is of surpassing beauty, and can be better described in the eloquent language of gilbert scott[32] than in any other: "simple as is the primary ideal, the actual effect is one of great intricacy, and of continuous gradation of parts, from the small arcades up to the stupendous dome, which hangs with little apparent support like a vast bubble over the centre, or as procopius, who witnessed its erection, described it, 'as if suspended by a chain from heaven.' "the dome is lighted by forty small windows, which pierce it immediately above the cornice which crowns its pendentives, and which, by subdividing its lower part into narrow piers, increases the feeling of its being supported by its own buoyancy. "the interior thus generated, covered almost wholly by domes, or portions of them, each rising in succession higher and higher towards the floating hemisphere in the centre, and so arranged that one shall open out the view to others, and that nearly the entire system of vaulting may be viewed at a single glance, appears to me to be in some respects the noblest which has ever been designed, as it was certainly the most daring which, up to that time at least, if not absolutely, had ever been constructed." after pointing out how the smaller arcades and apsidal projections, and the vistas obtained through the various arched openings, introduced intricate effects of perspective and constant changes of aspect, scott continues: "this union of the more palpable with the more mysterious, of the vast unbroken expanse with the intricately broken perspective, must, as it appears to me, and as i judge from representations, produce an impression more astounding than that of almost any other building: but when we consider the whole as clothed with the richest beauties of surface,--its piers encrusted with inlaid marbles of every hue, its arcades of marble gorgeously carved, its domes and vaultings resplendent with gold mosaic interspersed with solemn figures, and its wide-spreading floors rich with marble tesselation, over which the buoyant dome floats self-supported, and seems to sail over you as you move,--i cannot conceive of anything more astonishing, more solemn, and more magnificent." the type of church of which this magnificent cathedral was the great example has continued in eastern christendom to the present day, and has undergone surprisingly little variation. a certain distinctive character in the foliage (fig. 163) employed in capitals and other decorative carving, and mosaics of splendid colour but somewhat gaunt and archaic design, though often solemn and dignified, were typical of the work of justinian's day, and could long afterwards be recognised in eastern christian churches. between rome and constantinople, and well situated for receiving influence from both those cities, stood ravenna, and here a series of buildings, all more or less byzantine, were erected. the most interesting of these is the church of san vitale (figs. 160, 161). this building is octagonal in plan, and thus belongs to the series of round and polygonal churches and baptisteries for which the circular buildings of the romans furnished a model; but in its high central dome, lighted by windows placed high up, its many subsidiary arcades and apses, the latter roofed by half-domes, and its vaulted aisles in two stories, it recalls santa sophia; and its sculpture, carving, and mosaic decorations are hardly less famous and no less characteristic. [illustration: fig. 160.--plan of san vitale at ravenna.] [illustration: fig. 161.--san vitale at ravenna. longitudinal section.] one magnificent specimen of byzantine architecture, more within the reach of ordinary travellers, and consequently better known than san vitale or santa sophia, must not be omitted, and can be studied easily by means of numberless photographic illustrations--st. mark's at venice. this cathedral was built between the years 977-1071, and, it is said, according to a design obtained from constantinople. it has since been altered in external appearance by the erection of bulbous domical roofs over its domes, and by additions of florid gothic character; but, disregarding these, we have alike in plan, structure, and ornament, a byzantine church of the first class. [illustration: fig. 162.--plan of st. mark's at venice.] the ground-plan of st. mark's (fig. 162) presents a greek cross, _i.e._ one in which all the arms are equal, and it is roofed by five principal domes, one at the crossing and one over each of the four limbs of the cross. aisles at a low level, and covered by a series of small flat domes, in lieu of vaulting, fill up the angles between the arms of the cross, so as to make the outline of the plan nearly square. the rich colouring of st. mark's, due to a profuse employment of mosaics and of the most costly marbles, and the splendid effects produced by the mode of introducing light, which is admitted much as at santa sophia, are perhaps its greatest charm; but there is beauty in every aspect of its interior which has furnished a fit theme for the pen of the most eloquent writer on art and architecture of the present or perhaps of any day. from venice the influence of byzantine art spread to a small extent in north italy; in that city herself as well as in neighbouring towns, such as padua, buildings and fragments of buildings exhibiting the characteristics of the style can be found. remarkable traces of the influence of byzantium as a centre, believed to be due to intercourse with venice, can also be found in france. direct communication with constantinople by way of the mediterranean has also introduced byzantine taste into sicily. one famous french church, st. front in périgueux, is identical (or nearly so) with st. mark's in its plan; but all its constructive arches being pointed (fig. 3, page 5), its general appearance differs a good deal from that of eastern churches--a difference which is accentuated by the absence of the mosaics and other coloured ornaments which enrich the walls of st. mark's. many very old domed churches and much sculpture of the byzantine type are moreover to be found in central and southern france--anjou, aquitaine, and auvergne. these are, however, isolated examples of the style having taken root in spite of adverse circumstances; it is in those parts of europe where the greek church prevails, or did prevail, that byzantine architecture chiefly flourishes. in greece and asia minor many ancient churches of byzantine structure remain, while in russia churches are built to the present day corresponding to the general type of those which have just been described. [illustration: fig. 163.--from the golden door of jerusalem. time of justinian. a.d. 560.] [illustration: fig. 164.--church at turmanin in syria. 4th and 5th century.] in ancient buildings of syria the influence of both the roman and the byzantine models can be traced. no more characteristic specimens of byzantine foliage can be desired than some to be found in palestine, as for example the golden gate at jerusalem, which we illustrate (fig. 163); but in the deserted cities of central syria a group of exceptional and most interesting buildings, both secular and sacred, exists, which, as described by de vogüé,[33] seem to display a free and very original treatment based upon roman more than byzantine ideas. we illustrate the exterior of one of these, the church at turmanin (fig. 164). this is a building divided into a nave and aisles and with a vestibule. two low towers flank the central gable, and it will be noticed that openings of depressed proportion, mostly semicircular headed, and with the arches usually springing from square piers, mark the building; while the use made of columns strongly resembles the manner in which in later times they were introduced by the gothic architects. [illustration: fig. 165.--tower of a russian church.] footnotes: [29] _i.e._ the city of constantine. [30] "the edge of the world: the knot which links together east and west; the centre in which all extremes combine," was the not overcharged description given of constantinople by one of her own bishops. [31] for an illustration see fig. 187. [32] 'lectures on mediæval architecture.' [33] 'syrie centrale.' chapter xiii. romanesque architecture. the term romanesque is here used to indicate a style of christian architecture, founded on roman art, which prevailed throughout western europe from the close of the period of basilican architecture to the rise of gothic; except in those isolated districts where the influence of byzantium is visible. by some writers the significance of the word is restricted within narrower limits; but excellent authorities can be adduced for the employment of it in the wide sense here indicated. indeed some difficulty exists in deciding what shall and what shall not be termed romanesque, if any more restricted definition of its meaning is adopted; while under this general term, if applied broadly, many closely allied local varieties--as, for example, lombard, rhenish, romance, saxon, and norman--can be conveniently included. the spectacle which europe presented after the removal of the seat of empire to byzantium and the incursions of the northern tribes was melancholy in the extreme. nothing but the church retained any semblance of organised existence; and when at last some kind of order began to emerge from a chaos of universal ruin, and churches and monastic buildings began to be built in western europe, all of them looked to rome, and not to constantinople, as their common ecclesiastical centre. it is not surprising that, as soon as differences between the ritual of the eastern and the western church sprang up, a contrast between eastern and western architecture should establish itself, and that the early structures of the many countries where the roman church flourished never wandered far from the roman type, with the exception of localities where circumstances favoured direct intercourse with the east. the architecture of the eastern church, on the other hand, adhered quite as closely to the models of byzantium. [illustration: fig. 166.--tower of earl's barton church.] the style, so far as is known, was for a long time almost, if not absolutely, the same over a very large part of western christendom, and it has received from mr. freeman the appropriate designation of primitive romanesque. it was not till the tenth century, or later, that distinctive varieties began to make their appearance; and though that which was built earlier than that date has, through rebuildings and enlargements as well as natural decay, been in many cases swept away, still enough may be met with to show us what the buildings of that remote time were like. the churches are usually small, and have an apsidal east end. the openings are rude, with round-headed arches and small single or two-light windows, and the outer walls are generally marked by flat pilasters of very slight projection. towers are common, and the openings in them are often divided into two or more lights by rude columns. the plan of these churches was founded on the basilica type, but they do not exhibit the same internal arrangement; and it is very noteworthy that many of them show marks of having been vaulted, or at least partly vaulted; and not covered, as the basilicas usually were, by timber roofs. even a country so remote as great britain possessed in the 10th century many buildings of primitive romanesque character; and in such saxon churches as those of worth, brixworth, dover, or bradford, and such towers as those of earl's barton (fig. 166), trinity church colchester, barnack, or sompting, we have specimens of the style remaining to the present day. by degrees, as buildings of greater extent and more ornament were erected, the local varieties to which reference has been made began to develop themselves. in lombardy and north italy, for example, a lombard romanesque style can be recognised distinctly; here a series of churches were built, many of them vaulted, but not many of the largest size. most of them were on substantially the same plan as the basilicas, though a considerable number of circular or polygonal churches were also built. sant' ambrogio at milan, and some of the churches at brescia, pavia, and lucca, may be cited as well-known examples of early date, and a little later the cathedrals of parma, modena, and piacenza (fig. 167), and san zenone at verona. these churches are all distinguished by the free use of small ornamental arches and narrow pilaster-strips externally, and the employment of piers with half-shafts attached to them, rather than columns, in the arcades; they have fine bell-towers; circular windows often occupy the gables, and very frequently the walls have been built of, or ornamented with, coloured materials. the sculpture--grotesque, vigorous, and full of rich variety--which distinguishes many of these buildings, and which is to be found specially enriching the doorways, is of great interest, and began early to develop a character that is quite distinctive. [illustration: fig. 167.--cathedral at piacenza.] turning to germany, we find that a very strong resemblance existed between the romanesque churches of that country and those of north italy. at aix-la-chapelle a polygonal church exists, built by charlemagne, and which tradition asserts was designed on the model of san vitale at ravenna. the resemblance is undoubted, but the german church is by no means an exact copy of justinian's building. early examples of german romanesque exist in the cathedrals of mayence, worms, and spires, and a steady advance was made till a point was reached (in the twelfth century) at which the style may be said to have attained the highest development which romanesque architecture received in any country of europe. the arcaded ornament (the arches being very frequently open so as to form a real arcade) which was noticed as occurring in lombard churches, belongs also to german ones, though the secondary internal arcade (triforium) is absent from some of the early examples. piers are used more frequently than columns in the interiors, and are often very plain. from an early date the use of a western as well as an eastern apse seems to have been common in germany, and high western façades extending between two towers were features specially met with in that country. for a notice and some illustrations of the latest and best phase of german romanesque, which may with propriety be termed "round-arched gothic," the reader is referred to the companion volume of this series.[34] france exhibits more than one variety of romanesque; for not only, as remarked in the chapter on byzantine art, is the influence of greek or venetian artists traceable in the buildings of certain districts, especially périgueux, but it is clear that in others the existence of fine examples of roman architecture (fig. 168) affected the design of buildings down to and during the eleventh century. this influence may, for example, be detected in the use, in the churches at autun, valence, and avignon, of capitals, pilasters, and other features closely resembling classic originals, and in the employment through a great part of central and northern france of vaulted roofs. [illustration: fig. 168.--vaults of the excavated roman baths, in the musée de cluny, paris.] a specially french feature is the chevet, a group of apsidal chapels which were built round the apse itself, and which combined with it to make of the east end of a great cathedral a singularly rich and ornate composition. this feature, originating in romanesque churches, was retained in france through the whole of the gothic period, and a good example of it may be seen in the large romanesque church of st. sernin at toulouse, which we illustrate (fig. 169). the transepts were usually well marked. the nave arcades generally sprang from piers (fig. 170), more rarely from columns. arches are constantly met with recessed, _i.e._ in receding planes,[35] the first stage of progress towards a gothic treatment, and are occasionally slightly moulded (fig. 171). western doorways are often highly enriched with sculpture; and the carving and sculpture generally, though often rude, are full of vitality. towers occur, usually square, more rarely octagonal. window-lights are frequently grouped two or more under one arch. capitals of a basket-shape, and with a square abacus, often richly sculptured, are employed. [illustration: fig. 169.--church of st. sernin, toulouse.] [illustration: fig. 170.--nave arcade at st. sernin, toulouse.] [illustration: fig. 171.--arches in receding planes at st. sernin, toulouse.] in normandy, and generally in the north of france, round-arched architecture was excellently carried out, and churches remarkable both for their extent and their great dignity and solidity were erected. generally speaking, however, norman architecture, especially as met with in normandy itself, is less ornate than the romanesque of southern france; in fact some of the best examples seem to suffer from a deficiency of ornament. the large and well-known churches at caen, st. etienne, otherwise the abbaye aux hommes--interesting to englishmen as having been founded by william the conqueror immediately after the conquest--and the trinité, or abbaye aux dames, are excellent examples of early norman architecture, but the student must not forget that additions have been made to them, which, if they add to their beauty, at the same time alter their character. for example, in st. etienne, the upper part of the western towers and the fine spires with which they are crowned were built subsequent to the original structure, as was also, in all probability, the chevet, or eastern limb. it seems probable also that the vaulting may not be what was contemplated in the original plan. st. etienne is 364 ft. long, and is lofty in its proportions. it has a nave and aisles, arcades resting on piers, and strongly-marked transepts, and has two western towers with the gable of the nave between them. the west front is well designed in three stories, having strongly-marked vertical divisions in the buttresses of the towers, and equally distinct horizontal divisions in the three doorways below, and two ranges of windows, each of five lights, above. there is no circular west window. the nave and aisles are vaulted. besides other cathedral churches, such for example as those of bayeux and evreux, in which considerable parts of the original structures remain, there exist throughout normandy and brittany many parochial churches and monastic buildings, exhibiting, at least in some portions of their structure, the same characteristics as those of st. etienne; and it is clear that an immense number of buildings, the beauty and even refinement of which are conspicuous, must have been erected in northern france during the eleventh and the early years of the twelfth centuries, the period to which norman architecture in france may be said to belong. in great britain, as has been already pointed out, enough traces of saxon--that is to say, primitive romanesque--architecture remain to show that many simple, though comparatively rude, buildings must have been erected previous to the norman conquest. traces exist also of an influence which the rapid advance that had been made by the art of building as practised in normandy was exerting in our island. the buildings at westminster abbey raised by edward the confessor, though they have been almost all rebuilt, have left just sufficient traces behind to enable us to recognise that they were of bold design. the plan of the confessor's church was laid out upon a scale almost as large as that of the present structure. the monastic buildings were extensive. the details of the work were, some of them, refined and delicate, and resembled closely those employed in norman buildings at that time. thus it appears that, even had the conquest not taken place, no small influence would have been exerted upon buildings in england by the advance then being made in france; but instead of a gradual improvement being so produced, a sudden and rapid revolution was effected by the complete conquest of the country and its occupation by nobles and ecclesiastics from normandy, who, enriched by the plunder of the conquered country, were eager to establish themselves in permanent buildings. shortly after the conquest distinctive features began to show themselves. norman architecture in england soon became essentially different from what it was in normandy, and we possess in this country a large series of fine works showing the growth of this imported style, from the early simplicity of the chapel in the tower of london to such elaboration as that of the later parts of durham cathedral. the number of churches founded or rebuilt soon after the norman conquest must have been enormous, for in examining churches of every date and in every part of england it is common to find some fragment of norman work remaining from a former church: this is very frequently a doorway left standing or built into walls of later date: and, in addition to these fragments, no small number of churches, and more than one cathedral, together with numerous castles, remain in whole or in part as they were erected by the original builders. norman architecture is considered to have prevailed in england for more than a century; that is to say, from the conquest (1066) to the accession of richard i. (1189). for some details of the marks by which norman work can be recognised the reader is referred to the companion volume;[36] we propose here to give an account of the broader characteristics of the buildings erected during the prevalence of the style. * * * * * the oldest remaining parts of canterbury cathedral are specimens of norman architecture executed in england immediately after the conquest. this great church was rebuilt by archbishop lanfranc (whose episcopate lasted from 1070 to 1089), and in extent as laid out by him was very nearly identical with the existing structure; almost every portion has, however, been rebuilt, so that of his work only the towers forming transepts to the choir, and some other fragments, now remain. more complete and equally ancient is the chapel in the tower of london, which consists of a small apsidal church with nave and aisles, vaulted throughout, and in excellent preservation. this building, though very charming, is almost destitute of ornament. a little more ornate, and still a good example of early norman, is st. peter's church, northampton (fig. 172), the interior of which we illustrate. to these examples of early norman we may add a large part of rochester cathedral, and the transepts of winchester. the transepts of exeter present a specimen of rather more advanced norman work; and in the cathedrals of peterborough and durham the style can be seen at its best. [illustration: fig. 172.--norman arches in st. peter's church, northampton.] in most norman buildings we find very excellent masonry and massive construction. the exteriors of west fronts, transepts, and towers show great skill and care in their composition, the openings being always well grouped, and contrasted with plain wall-spaces; and a keen sense of proportion is perceptible. the norman architects had at command a rich, if perhaps a rather rude, ornamentation, which they generally confined to individual features, especially doorways; on these they lavished mouldings and sculpture, the elaboration of which was set off by the plainness of the general structure. in the interior of the churches we usually meet with piers of massive proportion, sometimes round, sometimes octagonal, sometimes rectangular, and a shaft is sometimes carried up the face of the piers; as, for example, in peterborough cathedral (fig. 173). the capitals of the columns and piers have a square abacus, and, generally speaking, are of the cushion-shaped sort, commonly known as basket-capitals, and are profusely carved. the larger churches have the nave roofed with a timber roof, and at peterborough there is a wooden ceiling; in these cases the aisles only are vaulted, but in some small churches the whole building has been so covered. buttresses are seldom required, owing to the great mass of the walls; when employed they have a very slight projection, but the same strips or pilasters which are used in german romanesque occur here also. low towers were common, and have been not unfrequently preserved in cases where the rest of the building has been removed. as the style advanced, the proportions of arcades became more lofty, and shafts became more slender, decorative arcades (fig. 174) became more common, and in these and many other changes the approaching transition to gothic may be easily detected. we have already alluded to the many norman doorways remaining in parish churches of which all other parts have been rebuilt. these doorways are generally very rich; they possess a series of mouldings sometimes springing from shafts, sometimes running not only round the arched head, but also up the jambs of the opening; and each moulding is richly carved, very often with a repetition of the same ornament on each voussoir of the arch. occasionally, but not frequently, large portions of wall-surface are covered by a diaper; that is to say, an ornament constantly repeated so as to produce a general sense of enrichment. [illustration: fig. 173.--nave arcade, peterborough cathedral.] [illustration: fig. 174.--decorative arcade from canterbury cathedral.] norman castles, as well as churches, were built in great numbers shortly after the conquest, and not a few remain. the stronghold which a follower of the conqueror built in order to establish himself on the lands granted him was always a very sturdy massive square tower, low in proportion to its width, built very strongly, and with every provision for sustaining an attack or even a siege. such a tower is called "a keep;" and in many famous castles, as for example the tower of london, the keep forms the nucleus round which buildings and courtyards of later date have clustered. in some few instances, however, as for example at colchester, the keep is the only part now standing, and it is probable that when originally built these norman castles were not much encumbered with out-buildings. rochester castle is a fine example of a norman keep, though it has suffered much from decay and injury. the very large norman keep of the tower of london, known as the white tower, and containing the chapel already described, has been much modernised and altered, but retains the fine mass of its original construction. perhaps the best (and best-preserved) example is hedingham castle in essex, which we illustrate (figs. 175 and 176). from the remains of this building some idea of the interior of the hall--the chief room within a norman keep--may be obtained, as well as of the general external appearance of such a structure. [illustration: fig. 175.--hedingham castle.] [illustration: fig. 176.--interior of hedingham castle.] footnotes: [34] 'gothic and renaissance architecture,' chap. vii. [35] 'gothic and renaissance architecture,' chap. v. p. 62. [36] 'gothic and renaissance architecture,' chap. ii. p. 23. [illustration: fig. 177.--rounded arch of church at gelnhausen.] chapter xiv. christian round-arched architecture. _analysis._ notwithstanding very wide differences which undoubtedly exist, there is a sufficient bond of union between the basilican, the byzantine, and the romanesque styles, to render it possible for us to include the characteristics of the three in an analysis of christian round-arched architecture. _the plan or floor-disposition_ of the basilican churches, as has been pointed out, was distinctive. the atrium, or forecourt, the porch, the division into nave and aisles; the transept, the great arch, and the apse beyond it with the episcopal seat at the back behind the altar; the ambos; and the enclosure for the choir, were typical features. detached towers sometimes occurred. the plan of romanesque churches was based upon that of the basilica; the atrium was often omitted, so was the transept sometimes; but, when retained, the transept was generally made more prominent than in the basilica. the position of the altar and of the enclosure for the choir were changed, but in other respects the basilica plan was continued. in germany, however, apsidal transepts (fig. 178) were built. towers were common, occasionally detached, but more frequently joined to the main building. [illustration: fig. 178.--plan of the church of the apostles at cologne.] circular and polygonal buildings for use as baptisteries, and sometimes as churches, existed both in the basilican and the romanesque time. byzantine church plans are all distinguished by their great central square space, covered by the central dome, flanked usually by four arms, comparatively short, and all of equal length; and the plan of the buildings is generally square, or nearly so, in outline. circular and polygonal buildings sometimes occur. [illustration: fig. 179.--spire of spires cathedral.] few traces of the arrangement of military, secular, or domestic buildings earlier than the twelfth century remain, but some examples of a cloister at the side of the nave (generally the south side) of a church, giving or intended to give access to monastic buildings, still exist. _the walls_ of such buildings as have come down to us are, it may be well understood, strong, since the most recent of this round-arched series of buildings must be about seven hundred years old. fine masonry was not much employed till the time of the normans, but the roman plan of building with bricks or rubble and casing the face of the walls with marble or mosaic, or at least plaster, was generally followed. the walls are carried up as gables and towers to a considerable extent (fig. 179), especially in western countries. _the roof._--in a basilica this was of timber, in a byzantine church it consisted of a series of domes; in a romanesque church it was sometimes of timber as in the basilica, but not unfrequently vaulted. as a general rule the vault prevailed in the west and the dome in the east; and such examples of either sort of roof as occur in those provinces where the other was usual, like the domed churches in parts of france, must be looked upon as exceptional. _the openings_ are almost invariably arched, and seldom, if ever, covered by a lintel. it is hardly necessary to add that the arches are always round. almost always they are semicircular, but instances of the employment of a segmental arch, or of one the outline of which is a little more than half a circle, may be occasionally met with. door openings are often made important both by size and decoration. window openings are usually small; and the grouping of two or more lights under one head, which was so conspicuous a feature in gothic architecture, first appears in byzantine buildings, and is met with also in romanesque ones. the mode of introducing light is to a certain extent characteristic. the basilican churches always possess a clerestory, and usually side windows in the aisles; and this arrangement is generally followed in romanesque buildings, though sometimes, in germany, the clerestory is omitted. the gable ends of the nave and transepts are not usually pierced by many or large lights (fig. 180); and when there is a central feature, as a tower, or even a dome, little or no light is introduced through it. on the other hand, the byzantine churches depend largely for light upon the ring of windows which commonly encircles the base of the central dome, and sometimes that of the subsidiary domes; and the gables are pierced so as to supply any additional light required, so that windows are infrequent in the lower walls. broadly speaking, therefore, the western churches have side-lighting and the eastern top-lighting. [illustration: fig. 180.--church at rosheim. upper portion of façade.] the great arches which carry the main domes form a notable feature in eastern churches, and are of very bold construction. in the basilican churches one great arch, called "the arch of triumph," occurs, and only one; this gives access to the apse: and a similar arch, which we now denominate "the chancel arch," usually occupies a corresponding position in all romanesque churches. the arches of the arcade separating the nave from the aisles in all western churches are usually of moderate span. in some ancient basilicas these arches are replaced by a horizontal beam. _the columns._--in basilicas these were of antique type; very often they had actually been obtained by the demolition of older buildings, and when made purposely they were as a rule of the same general character. the same might be said of those introduced into byzantine buildings, though a divergence from the classic type soon manifested itself, and small columns began to appear as decorative features. in romanesque buildings the columns are very varied indeed, and shafts are frequently introduced into the decoration of other features. they occur in the jambs of doorways with mouldings or sub-arches springing from them; long shafts and short ones, frequently supporting ornamental arcades, are employed both internally and externally; and altogether that use of the column as a means of decoration, of which gothic architecture presents so many examples, first began in the romanesque style. the capitals employed in romanesque buildings generally depart considerably from the classic type, being based on the primitive cube capital (fig. 181), but, as a rule, in eastern as well as in basilican churches, they bear a tolerably close resemblance to classic ones. [illustration: fig. 181.--cubic capital.] _the ornaments_ throughout the whole of the christian round-arched period are a very interesting subject of study, and will repay close attention. in the basilican style mouldings occur but seldom: where met with, they are all of the profiles common in roman architecture, but often rudely and clumsily worked. carving partakes also of classic character, though it is not difficult to detect the commencement of that metamorphosis which was effected in byzantium, and which can hardly be better described than in the following paragraph from the pen of sir digby wyatt:--"the foliage is founded on ancient greek rather than on roman traditions, and is characterised by a peculiarly sharp outline. all ornamental sculpture is in comparatively low relief, and the absence of human and other figures is very marked. enrichments were almost invariably so carved, by sinking portions only of the surfaces and leaving the arrises and principal places untouched, as to preserve the original constructive forms given by the mason (fig. 184). the employment of the drill instead of the chisel, so common in debased roman work, was retained as a very general practice by the greek carvers, and very often with excellent effect. the foliage of the acanthus, although imitated from the antique, quite changed its character, becoming more geometrical and conventional in its form. that which particularly distinguishes lombard from byzantine art is its sculpture abounding with grotesque imagery, with illustrations of every-day life, of a fanciful mythology not yet quite extinct, and allusions, no longer symbolic but direct, to the christian creed; the latter quality a striking evidence of the triumph of the roman church over all iconoclastic adversaries in greece." what is here asserted of lombard carving is true of that in the romanesque buildings in germany, scandinavia (fig. 182), france, and to a certain extent in great britain, though in our own country a large proportion of the ornamental carving consists simply of decorative patterns, such as the chevron, billet, and zig-zag; and sculpture containing figures and animals is less common. [illustration: fig. 182.--doorway at tind, norway. (end of 12th century.)] the mouldings of romanesque buildings are simple, and at first were few in number, but by degrees they become more conspicuous, and before the transition to gothic they assumed considerable importance (fig. 183) and added not a little to the architectural character of the buildings. [illustration: fig. 183.--mouldings of portal of st. james's church at koesfeld.] coloured decoration, especially in mosaic, was a conspicuous feature in basilican churches, and still more so in those of the byzantine style; such decoration in romanesque churches was not infrequent, but it was more commonly painted in fresco or tempera. the glass mosaic-work to be found on the walls of early christian churches, both basilican and byzantine, but less frequently romanesque, is most interesting and beautiful: "it was," says the high authority already quoted, "employed only to represent and reproduce the forms of existing objects, such as figures, architectural forms and conventional foliage, which were generally relieved with some slight indication of shading upon a gold ground--the whole being bedded in the cement covering the walls and vaults of the basilicas and churches." "the design of both figures and ornaments was, generally speaking, very rude, though not without an occasional rising in some of the figures to a certain sublimity, derivable principally from the great simplicity of the forms and draperies and the earnest grandiose expression depicted on their countenances. the pieces of glass employed in the formation of this work are very irregular in shapes and sizes, of all colours and tones of colour, and the ground tint almost invariably prevailing is gold. the manner of execution is always large and coarse, and rarely approaches in neatness of joint and regularity of bedding to the (ancient roman) 'opus majus vermiculatus;' yet, notwithstanding these blemishes, the effect of gorgeous, luxurious, and at the same time solemn decoration produced is unattainable by any other means as yet employed as structural embellishment. how noble and truly ecclesiastical in character are the gold-clad interiors of monreale cathedral, of the capella palatina at palermo, of st. mark at venice, san miniato at florence, or santi apollinare and vitale at ravenna, the concurrent testimony of all travellers attests." a finer kind of glass mosaic arranged in geometrical patterns was made use of to enrich the ambos, screens, episcopal chairs, sepulchral ornaments, and other similar fittings of churches, and was often of great beauty. a third sort of mosaic--the alexandrine work (opus alexandrinum)--used for pavements, has been already alluded to; this was extremely effective, but its use appears to have been less general than that of the glass mosaics for the walls. _the architectural character_ of the basilican churches may be briefly characterised as venerable and dignified, but yet cheerful and bright rather than forbidding; they are, as interiors, impressive but not oppressive, solemn but not gloomy. comparatively little attention was paid to external effect, and there is not often much in them to strike the passer-by. the character of byzantine interiors is far more rich, and even splendid; but it is more gloomy, and often is solemn and grand to the last degree. in many cases these churches possess fine exteriors; and for the level sky-line produced by the long straight roofs of the basilica, a more or less pyramidal composition, showing curved outlines rather than straight ones, is substituted. the architectural character of the romanesque buildings varies extremely with the districts in which they are erected; but, generally speaking, it may be described as picturesque, and even sometimes romantic; the appearance of towers, prominent transepts, and many smaller decorative features serves to render the exteriors telling and varied, though often somewhat rude and primitive. a solid and somewhat heavy character distinguishes the interiors of some varieties of romanesque buildings--such, for example, as our own early norman; but in our fully-developed and late norman, and still more in the latest german romanesque churches, this disappears almost entirely, and much beauty and even lightness of effect is obtained, without any loss of that richness which is characteristic of more ancient examples. [illustration: fig. 184.--byzantine basket-work capital from san michele in affricisco at ravenna.] [illustration: fig. 185.--arabian capital. from the alhambra.] chapter xv. mohammedan architecture. few revolutions more sudden, more signal, and more widespread are recorded in history than that which covered not only the east but part of the west with the mohammedan religion and dominion. mohammed was born either in the year 569 or 570 of the christian era, and died a.d. 652. the year of the hegira, the era from which mohammedans compute their chronology, is a.d. 622, and within little more than a century from this era the prophet was acknowledged, and the suzerainty of the caliph recognised eastwards, in arabia, syria, palestine, egypt, and persia, and in india as far as to the ganges; and westwards along the north coast of africa, in sicily, and in spain. it was only to be expected that such a wonderful tide of conquest and such a widespread change of religion should before long leave its impress on the architecture of the continents thus revolutionised; and accordingly a mohammedan style soon rose. this style did not displace or override the indigenous art of the various countries where it prevailed, as roman architecture did in the age of universal dominion under the empire; it assimilated the peculiarities of each country, and so transmuted them, that although wherever the religion of mohammed prevails the architecture will at a glance confess the fact, still the local or national peculiarities of each country remain prominent. the arabs, a nomadic race who lived in tents, do not seem to have been great builders even in their cities. we have no authentic accounts or existing remains of very early buildings even in mecca or medina, as the oldest mosques in those cities have been completely rebuilt. it is to egypt and syria that we must turn for the most ancient remaining examples of saracenic architecture. these consist of mosques and tombs. _egypt._ a mosque--or mohammedan place of worship--has two forms. the earlier mosques are all of them of a type the arrangement of which is simplicity itself. a large open courtyard, resembling the garth of a cloister, with a fountain in it, is surrounded cloister-wise by arcades supporting timber roofs. on the side nearest mecca the arcades are increased to several rows in depth, so as to cover a considerable space. this is the part in which the congregation chiefly assembles; here a niche or recess (termed kibla), more or less enriched, is formed in which the koran is to be kept, and hard by a pulpit is erected. for many centuries past, though not, it is believed, from the very earliest times, a minaret or high tower, from the top of which the call to prayer is given, has also been an indispensable adjunct to a mosque. the second sort of mosque is a domed, and sometimes vaulted building of a form chiefly suggested by the byzantine domed churches, with a central space and four short arms. this sort of mosque became almost universal in turkey and egypt after the capture of constantinople by the turks, and the appropriation to moslem worship of santa sophia itself. the tombs are ornate and monumental buildings, or sanctuaries, of the same general character as the domed mosques, and often attached to them. [illustration: fig. 186.--horse-shoe arch.] from very early times the arches, in the arcades which have been described as virtually constituting the whole structure of the simpler sort of mosque, were pointed. lubke claims as the earliest known and dated example of the pointed arch in a saracenic building, the nilometer, a small structure on an island near cairo, which contains pointed arches that must have been built either at the date of its original construction in a.d. 719, or at latest, when it was restored a.d. 821. the mosque of amrou, however, which was founded very soon after the conquest of egypt in a.d. 643, and is largely made up of materials obtained from older buildings, exhibits pointed arches, not only in the arcades, which probably have been rebuilt since they were originally formed, but in the outer walls, which are likely, in part at least, to be original. [illustration: fig. 187.--exterior of santa sophia, constantinople. showing the minarets added after its conversion into a mosque.] whatever uncertainty may rest upon these very remote specimens of pointed architecture, there is little if any about the mosque of ibn tulun, also at cairo, and built a.d. 885, or, according to another authority, a.d. 879. here arcades of bold pointed arches spring from piers, and the effect of the whole structure is noble and full of character. from that time the pointed arch was constantly used in saracenic buildings along with the semicircular and the horse-shoe arch (fig. 186). from the ninth century, then, the pointed arch was in constant use. it prevailed in palestine as well as in the adjacent countries for two centuries before it reached the west, and there can be no doubt that it was there seen by the western crusaders, and a knowledge of its use and an appreciation of its beauty and convenience were brought back to western europe by the returning ecclesiastics and others at the end of the first crusade.[37] in the eleventh century the splendid tombs of the caliphs at cairo were erected,--buildings crowned with domes of a graceful pointed form, and remarkable for the external decoration which usually covers the whole surface of those domes. by this time also, if not earlier, the minaret had become universal. this is a lofty tower of slender proportions, passing from a square base below to a circular form above (fig. 187). a minaret is often divided into several stages. each stage is then marked by a balcony, and is, generally speaking, a polygon of a greater number of sides than the stage below it. [illustration: fig. 188.--alhambra. hall of the abencerrages.] in the interiors of saracenic buildings what is generally known as honeycomb corbelling is constantly employed to fill up corners and effect a change of plan from a square below to a circle or octagon above. this ornament is formed by the use of a series of small brackets, each course of them overhanging those below, and produces an effect some idea of which may be gathered from our illustration (fig. 188) of the hall of the abencerrages in the alhambra. the interiors when not domed are often covered by wooden or plaster ceilings, more or less richly decorated, such as are shown in the view of one of the arcades of the mosque "el moyed," cairo (fig. 189), where the horse-shoe and pointed arches can both be seen. this illustration also shows timber ties, at the feet of the arches, such as were commonly used by the earlier saracenic builders. the surfaces of the interiors of most mohammedan buildings in all countries are covered with the most exquisite decorations in colour. imitations of natural objects being forbidden by the koran (a prohibition occasionally, but very rarely, infringed), the saracenic artists, whose instincts as decorators seem to have been unrivalled, fell back upon geometrical and flowing patterns and inscriptions, and upon the use of tiles (fig. 190), mosaics, inlays, patterns impressed on plaster, and every possible device for harmoniously enriching the surfaces with which they had to deal. several of our illustrations give indications of the presence of these unrivalled decorations in the buildings which they represent (fig. 195). windows are commonly filled by tracery executed in stone or in plaster, and glazed with stained glass, and many of the open spaces in buildings are occupied by grilles, executed in wood, and most effective and rich in design. [illustration: fig. 189.--mosque 'el moyed' at cairo.] [illustration: fig. 190.--arabian wall decoration.] [illustration: fig. 191.--plan of the sakhra mosque at jerusalem.] _syria and palestine._ syria was one of the countries earliest overrun by the arab propaganda, and jerusalem was taken by the caliph omar as early as a.d. 637. he there built a small mosque, though not the one which commonly goes by his name. two mosques of great antiquity and importance, but the origin of which is a matter of dispute among authorities, stand in the haram enclosure at jerusalem. one of these is the octagonal building called the sakhra (figs. 191-2), known in the moslem world as the dome of the rock, popularly called the mosque of omar, and occupying, as is all but universally admitted, part of the site of the temple itself. whether this is a "nearly unaltered christian building of the fourth century," or a construction of abd-el-malek, the second caliph, erected in the year 688, has been debated keenly; but what is beyond debate is that this structure is very byzantine, or, to speak with more exactness, very like some of the buildings of justinian in plan and section, and that from early times it was in the possession of the saracens, and was regarded by them as the next most venerable and sacred spot in the world after mecca. much the same difference of opinion prevails as to the origin of the neighbouring mosque, el aksah, which bears an undoubted general resemblance to an ancient basilica, though having no fewer than seven parallel avenues. this building has with equal confidence been attributed to the fourth and the seventh century. it is fortunately quite unnecessary here to do more than point out that these mosques, whatever their origin, were in use at least as early as the eighth century, and that the beautiful dome of the rock must have exercised a great influence on mohammedan art, and, notwithstanding some differences of plan, may be fairly regarded as the prototype of many of the domed mosques and tombs to which allusion has been made. the decorations shown in our illustration of the sakhra are, it is right to observe, most of them of a date centuries later than the time of the original construction of the building. [illustration: fig. 192.--section of the sakhra mosque at jerusalem.] _sicily and spain._ the spread of mohammedan architecture westward next claims our notice; but want of space will only permit us to mention a small though interesting group of saracenic buildings which still remains in sicily; the numerous specimens of the style which exist on the north coast of africa; and the works erected by the saracens during their long rule in spain. the most celebrated spanish example is the fortress and palace of the alhambra, begun in 1248, and finished in 1314. this building (fig. 188) has been measured, drawn, and fully illustrated in an elaborate monograph by our countryman owen jones, and has become popularly known by the beautiful reproduction of portions of it which he executed at the crystal palace, and of which he wrote an admirable description in his 'guide-book to the alhambra court.' the mohammedan architecture of spain is here to be seen at its best; most of its features are those of arab art, but with a distinguishing character (fig. 193). [illustration: fig. 193.--doorway in the alhambra.] two other well-known examples are, the giralda[38] at seville, and the mosque at cordova. the giralda is a square tower, in fact a minaret on a magnificent scale, divided into panels and richly decorated, and shows a masculine though beautiful treatment wholly different from that of the minarets in cairo. the well-known mosque at cordova is of the simplest sort of plan, but of very great extent, and contains no less than nineteen parallel avenues separated from one another by arcades at two heights springing from 850 columns. the kibla in this mosque is a picturesque domed structure higher than the rest of the building. the columns employed throughout are antique ones from other buildings, but the whole effect of the structure, which abounds with curiously cusped arches and coloured decoration, is described as most picturesque and fantastic. _persia and india._ turning eastwards, we find in turkey, as has been said, a close adherence to the forms of byzantine architecture. in persia, where the people are now fire-worshippers, the mohammedan buildings are mostly ruined, and probably many have disappeared, but enough remains to show that mosques and palaces of great grandeur were built. lofty doorways are a somewhat distinctive feature of persian buildings of this style; and the use of coloured tiles of singular beauty for linings to the walls, in the heads of these great portals, and in other situations to which such decoration is appropriate, is very common: these decorations afford opportunity for the persian instinct for colour, probably the truest in the whole world, to make itself seen. in india the wealth of material is such that an almost unlimited series of fine buildings could be brought forward, were space and illustrations available. a large part of that vast country became mohammedan, and in the buildings erected for mosques and tombs a complete blending of the decorative forms in use among hindu and jaina sculptors with the main lines of mohammedan art is generally to be found. the great open quadrangle, the pointed arch, the dome, the minaret, all appear, but they are all made out of indian materials. perhaps not the least noteworthy feature of mosques and tombs in india is the introduction of perforated slabs of marble in the place of the bar-tracery which filled the heads of openings in cairo or damascus. these are works of the greatest and most refined beauty: sometimes panels of thin marble, each pierced with a different pattern, are fitted into a framework prepared for their reception; at others we meet with window-heads where upon a background of twining stems and leaves there grow up palms or banian-trees, their lithe branches and leaves wreathed into lines of admirable grace, and every part standing out, owing to the fine piercings of the marble, as distinctly as a tree of jesse on a painted window in a gothic cathedral. the dome at bijapur, a tomb larger than the pantheon at rome, and the kutub at delhi, a tower not unfit to be compared with giotto's campanile at florence, are conspicuous among this series of monuments, and at delhi one of the grandest mosques in india (fig. 194) is also to be found. the series of mosques and tombs at ahmedabad, however, form the most beautiful group of buildings in india, and are the only ones of which a complete series of illustrations has been published. these mosques are remarkable for the great skill with which they are roofed and lighted. this is done by means of a series of domes raised on columns sufficiently above the general level of the stone ceilings, which cover the intervening spaces, to admit light under the line of their springing. the beauty of the marble tracery and surface decoration is very great. pointed arches occur here almost invariably, and in most cases the outline of the opening is very slightly turned upwards at the apex so as to give a slight increase of emphasis to the summit of the arch. the buildings are not as a rule lofty; and though plain walls and piers occur and contrast well with the arched features, pains have been taken to avoid anything like massive or heavy construction. great extent, skilful distribution, extreme lightness, and admirably combined groupings of the features and masses, are among the fine qualities which lend to mohammedan architecture in ahmedabad a rare charm. [illustration: fig. 194.--grand mosque at delhi, built by shah jehan.] the religion and the art of islam seem destined to live and die together. nothing (with the one exception of the suggestion of the pointed arch to western europe at the very moment when romanesque art was ripe for a change) has developed itself or appears likely to grow out of mohammedan architecture in any part of the wide field to which the attention of the reader has been directed; and in this respect the art of the mohammedan is as exclusive, as intolerant, and as infertile as his religion. the interest which it must possess in the eyes of a western student will rise less from its own charms than from the fact that it first employed the pointed arch--that feature from which sprang the glorious series of western christian styles to which we give the name of gothic. this arch, indeed, appears to have been discovered by the very beginners of mohammedan architecture, at a time when the style was still plastic and in course of growth, and the beauty of saracenic art is due to no small extent to the use of it; but in the employment of this feature the western architect advanced much further than the saracen even at his best could go. the pointed architecture of the middle ages, with its daring construction, its comprehensive design, its elaborate mouldings, and its magnificent sculptures, is far more highly developed and more beautiful than that of the countries which we have been describing, though in its treatment of the walls it cannot surpass, and indeed did not often equal, the unrivalled decoration of plane surfaces which forms the chief glory of mohammedan art. [illustration: fig. 195.--entrance to a moorish bazaar.] footnotes: [37] the first crusade lasted from a.d. 1095 to a.d. 1099. [38] 'gothic and renaissance architecture,' p. 141. index. abbaye aux dames, caen, 231 " hommes, caen, 230 abbey, westminster, 204 agora, 114 alhambra, 258, 263 amphitheatre at arles, 161 " nîmes, 161 " pola, 161 " rome (coloss.), 158 " sutri, 148 " verona, 161 anthemios of thralles, _architect_, 211 appian way, 145 apollodorus of damascus, _architect_, 155 aqueduct at nîmes (pont du gard), 171 " from præneste to rome, 145 " at rome (aqua claudia), 171 " " (anio novus), 171 " at segovia, 171 " at tarragona, 171 arch at autun (porte d'arroux), 172 " jerusalem (golden gate), 220 " rome (of constantine), 172 " " (of the goldsmiths), 173 " " (of sept. severus), 172 " " (of titus), 172 " trèves (porta nigra), 172 asoka, 65 baalbek, ruins at, 149 basilica at rome (constantiniana), 155 " " (emilia), 154 " " (julia), 155 " " (portia), 154 " " (sempronia), 155 " " (ulpia), 155 " trèves, 155 basilica-church at florence (s. miniato), 209 " " ravenna (s. apollinare in classe), 206, 209 " " rome (s. agnese), 201 " " rome (s. clemente), 199 " " rome (s. paul without the walls), 205 " " rome (s. pietro), 201 baths of agrippa, 162 " caracalla, 162 " diocletian, 164, 191 bharhut, 71 birs-i-nimrud, 45 bridge over the danube (trajan's), 170 " tagus (hadrian's), 170 " tiber (pons sublicius), 170 campo santo, pisa, 209 castle of s. angelo, 174 cathedral at canterbury, 233 " durham, 234 " exeter, 234 " monreale, 249 " peterborough, 234, 235 " piacenza, 224 " pisa, 209 " rochester, 234 " rome (s. peter's), 205 " venice (s. mark's), 217 " winchester, 234 chaitya, 67 chapel in tower of london, 232, 233 chehil minar, 56 choragic monument of lysicrates, 112 church at aix-la-chapelle, 225 " caen (abb. aux hommes), 230 " " (abb. aux dames), 231 " constantinople (s. sophia), 211 " earl's barton, 224 " milan (s. ambrogio), 224 " northampton (s. peter's), 234 " paris (madeleine), 185 " périgueux (s. front), 218 " ravenna (s. vitale), 208, 215 " rome (s. maria degli angeli), 164 " " (s. maria ad martyres), 166 " rome (s. stefano rot.), 208 " toulouse (s. sernin), 227 " turmanin, syria, 221 " verona (s. zenone), 224 circus maximus, rome, 143, 161 cloaca maxima, rome, 141 cnidus, lion tomb at, 110 colosseum, 158 column of marcus aurelius, 173 " trajan, 173 decoration of egyptian buildings, 37 erechtheium, 107 forum of nerva, 191 gate, golden, at jerusalem, 220 gate at perugia, 141 giralda, 265 hall, s. george's, liverpool, 185 ictinus, _architect_, 88 isidoros of miletus, _architect_, 211 keep at colchester, 237 " hedingham castle, 239 " rochester castle, 238 " tower of london, 237, 239 kutub, 266 lâts, 65 lotus column, 32 lysicrates, choragic monument of, 112 maison carrée, nîmes, 149 mammisi, 25 manephthah, 24 manetho, 15 mastaba, 20 mausoleum of halicarnassus, 110 mosque at ahmedabad, 266 " cairo (of amrou), 254 " " ("el moyed"), 258 " " (of ibn tulun), 256 " cordova, 265 " delhi, 266 " jerusalem (el aksah), 261 " " (sakhra), 261 " (the nilometer), 254 mugheyr, buildings at, 44 mycenæ, treasury of atreus, 85 " gate of the lions, 86 obelisks, 36 pagoda at nankin, 76 palace at khorsabad, 46 " rome (of the cæsars), 174 " spalatro (of diocletian), 174, 192 pantheon, 164 parthenon, 88-91, 99-101 persepolis, buildings at, 55 persian columns, 57 pheidias, _sculptor_, 91 pont du gard, nîmes, 171 porta nigra, trèves, 172 pylon, 25 pyramid of cephren, 16 " cheops, 16 " mycerinus, 16 ram raz, 72 rome, cloacæ at, 141 scopas, _sculptor and architect_, 109, 112 silchester, ruins at, 143 sutri, ruins of an amphitheatre, 143 temple at athens (erechtheium), 107 " " (parthenon), 88-91, 99-101 " " (of jupiter olym.), 149 " baalbek, 149 " corinth, 81, 87 " ephesus (of diana), 109 " honan, 75 " ipsamboul, 31 " karli (chaitya), 67 " karnak, 26 " lomas rishi cave, 67 " nigope cave (chaitya), 67 " nîmes (maison carrée), 149 " orange (ruins), 157 " pæstum, 92 " rome (of jupiter capitolinus), 142 " " (of q. metellus macedonicus), 145 " " (of antoninus and faustina), 147 " " (of fortuna vir.), 147 " " (of vesta), 153 " " (pantheon), 164 " sanchi (tope), 67 " tegea (of athena alea), 112 " tivoli (of vesta), 153 temples, egyptian, 25 " shinto, 77 theatre of balbus, 156 " " marcellus, 156 " " mummius, 156 " at orange, 157 " of pompey, 156 thermæ, _see_ baths tomb at ahmedabad, 266 " " bab-el-molouk (belzoni's), 24 " " bijapur, 266 " " castel d'asso, 139 " of cecilia metella, 173 " " cyrus, 54 " " darius, 59 " " hadrian, 174 " " regulini galeassi, 141 tombs, egyptian, 20 " lycian, 85 " cnidus (lion), 110 tope at sanchi, 67 tower at delhi (kutub), 266 " seville (giralda), 265 treasury of atreus, 85 typhonia, 25 usertesen i., 29 wall of china, great, 76 way, appian, 145 westminster abbey, 204 wurkha, ruins at, 46 london: printed by william clowes and sons, limited, stamford street and charing cross. illustrated handbooks of art history of all ages each volume contains numerous illustrations, and is strongly bound for the use of students. price 5_s._ _now ready._ by professor t. roger smith and john slater, b.a. architecture: classic and early christian. comprising the egyptian, assyrian, greek, roman, byzantine and early christian. illustrated with upwards of 200 engravings, including the parthenon, the erechtheium, the temple of zeus at olympia, the colosseum, the baths of diocletian, &c. by professor t. roger smith and edward j. poynter, r.a. architecture: gothic and renaissance. showing the progress of gothic architecture in england, france, germany, italy, and spain, and of renaissance architecture in the same countries. illustrated with more than 100 engravings, including many of the principal cathedrals, churches, palaces, and domestic buildings in england, and on the continent. by george redford, f.r.c.s. sculpture: egyptian, assyrian, greek and roman. with 160 illustrations, including examples of the works of the most celebrated greek sculptors, a map of ancient greece, and a chronological list of ancient sculptors and their works. by edward j. poynter, r.a., and percy r. head, b.a. painting: classic and italian. including painting in egypt, greece, rome, and pompeii; the renaissance in italy; schools of florence, siena, rome, padua, venice, perugia, ferrara, parma, naples and bologna. illustrated with 80 engravings of many of the finest pictures of italy. by h. j. wilmot-buxton, m.a., and edward j. poynter, r.a. painting: german, flemish and dutch. including an account of the works of albrecht dürer, cranach, and holbein; van eyck, van der weyden, and memling; rubens, snyders, and van dyck; rembrandt, hals, and jan steen; wynants, ruisdael, and hobbema; cuyp, potter, and berchem; bakhuisen, van de velde, van huysum, and many other celebrated painters. by h. j. wilmot-buxton, m.a. painting: english and american. including an account of the earliest paintings known in england; the works of holbein, antonio moro, lucas de heere, zuccaro, and marc garrard; the hilliards and olivers; van dyck, lely, and kneller; hogarth, reynolds, and gainsborough; west, romney, and lawrence; constable, turner, and wilkie; maclise, mulready, and landseer, and many other celebrated painters. _nearly ready._ by gerard smith, exeter coll. oxford. painting: spanish and french. including the works of ribera, zurbaran, velazquez, and murillo; poussin, claude lorrain, le sueur, watteau, chardin, greuze, david, and prud'hon; ingres, vernet, delaroche, and delacroix; corot, diaz, and millet; courbet, regnault, troyon, and many other celebrated artists. _in preparation._ transcriber's note archaic spelling has been preserved as printed, for example, egean instead of ægean. minor punctuation errors have been repaired. the following amendments have been made: page 67, footnote--x. amended to xi.--"see chap. xi. for an illustration of a christian basilica." page 101--theseium amended to theseum--"temple of theseus (theseum), at athens, 465 b.c." page 211--isodoros amended to isidoros--"... anthemius of thralles, and isidoros of miletus, ..." page 270--114 amended to 116--"agora, 116" page 270--148 amended to 143--"amphitheatre at sutri, 143" page 270--205 amended to 206--"basilica-church at rome (s. paul without the walls), 206" discrepancies between items in the list of illustrations and actual captions have been preserved as printed. figure 115--guilloche is missing from the list of illustrations in the original text. this omission has been preserved in this e-text. figures 116 and 117 were out of sequence on page 136 (with figures 105-110). they have been moved to their proper place in the sequence of figures. other illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. the advertising material has been moved to the end of the book. transcriber's note illustration captions in {curly brackets} have been added by the transcriber for the convenience of the reader. a considerable number of the page references in the index are incorrect; however, they have been preserved as printed. _illustrated text-books of art education_ _edited by edward j. poynter, r.a._ architecture gothic and renaissance by t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. [illustration: p. 114 the certosa, near pavia. from the cloisters. begun by marco di campione, a.d. 1393.] _text-book of art education, edited by edward j. poynter, r.a._ architecture gothic and renaissance by t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. _occasional lecturer on architecture at university college, london_ [illustration: {saint george. panel from the tomb of cardinal amboise in rouen cathedral.}] new york scribner and welford. london sampson low, marston, searle, & rivington crown buildings, 188, fleet street 1880 (_all rights reserved._) london: r. clay, sons, and taylor, bread street hill, e. c. [illustration: {crête from notre dame, paris.}] preface. the history, the features, and the most famous examples of european architecture, during a period extending from the rise of the gothic, or pointed, style in the twelfth century to the general depression which overtook the renaissance style at the close of the eighteenth, form the subject of this little volume. i have endeavoured to adopt as free and simple a mode of treatment as is compatible with the accurate statement of at least the outlines of so very technical a subject. though it is to be hoped that many professional students of architecture will find this hand-book serviceable to them in their elementary studies, it has been my principal endeavour to adapt it to the requirements of those who are preparing for the professional pursuit of the sister arts, and of that large and happily increasing number of students who pursue the fine arts as a necessary part of a complete liberal education, and who know that a solid and comprehensive acquaintance with art, especially if joined to some skill in the use of the pencil, the brush, the modelling tool, or the etching needle, will open sources of pleasure and interest of the most refined description. the broad facts of all art history; the principles which underlie each of the fine arts; and the most precious or most noteworthy examples of each, ought to be familiar to every art student, whatever special branch he may follow. beyond these limits i have not attempted to carry this account of gothic and renaissance architecture; within them i have endeavoured to make the work as complete as the space at my disposal permitted. some portions of the text formed part of two courses of lectures delivered before the students of the school of military engineering at chatham, and are introduced here by the kind permission of sir john stokes. many of the descriptive and critical remarks are transcripts of notes made by myself, almost under the shadow of the buildings to which they refer. it would, however, have been impossible to give a condensed view of so extended a subject had not every part of it been treated at much greater length by previous writers. the number and variety of the books consulted renders it impossible to make any other acknowledgment here than this general recognition of my indebtedness to their authors. t. r. s. [illustration: {stained glass from chartres cathedral.}] contents. page illustrated glossary of technical words. xv to xxxix chapter i. introduction. 1 chapter ii. the buildings of the middle ages. 6 chapter iii. gothic architecture. 21 chapter iv. gothic architecture in england. analysis of buildings. plans. walls. towers and spires. gables. piers and columns 28 chapter v. gothic architecture in england (_continued_). analysis (_continued_). openings. roofs. spires. ornaments. stained glass. sculpture 45 chapter vi. gothic architecture in western europe. 1. france. chronological sketch. analysis of buildings. plans. walls, towers and gables. columns and piers. roofs and vaults. openings. mouldings and ornaments. construction and design 69 2. belgium and the netherlands 87 3. scotland, wales, and ireland 91 chapter vii. gothic architecture in central and northern europe. 1. germany. chronological sketch. analysis of buildings. plans. walls, towers and gables. roofs and vaults. openings. ornaments. construction and design 93 2. northern europe 111 chapter viii. gothic architecture in southern europe. 1. italy and sicily. topographical sketch. northern italy. central italy. southern italy. analysis of buildings. plans. walls, towers, and columns. openings and arches. roofs and vaults. mouldings and ornaments. construction and design 112 2. spain. chronological sketch 137 3. portugal 142 chapter ix. gothic architecture. principles of construction and design. materials and construction 143 chapter x. renaissance architecture. general view. analysis of buildings. plans. walls and columns. openings. construction and design 154 chapter xi. renaissance architecture in italy. florence. rome. venice, vicenza, verona. milan, pavia. genoa, turin, naples. country villas 165 chapter xii. renaissance architecture in france and northern europe. 1. france. chronological sketch 193 2. belgium and the netherlands 206 3. germany 210 chapter xiii. renaissance architecture in great britain, spain, and portugal. 1. england. chronological sketch 214 2. scotland 227 3. spain and portugal 229 [illustration: {sculptured ornament from rheims cathedral.}] list of illustrations. page certosa, the, near pavia. from the cloisters frontispiece saint george. panel from the tomb of cardinal amboise in rouen cathedral title page glossary. forty engravings of details xv to xxxix 1. west entrance, lichfield cathedral. (1275.) 5 2. ground plan of peterborough cathedral. (1118 to 1193.) 6 3. transverse section of the nave of salisbury cathedral 7 4. choir of worcester cathedral. (begun 1224.) 9 5. nave of wells cathedral. (1206 to 1242.) 9 6. ground plan of westminster abbey 11 7. house of jaques coeur at bourges. (begun 1443.) 15 8. plan of warwick castle. (14th and 15th centuries.) 16 9. palaces on the grand canal, venice. (14th century.) 18 10. well at regensburg. (15th century.) 20 11. gothic ornament. from sens cathedral (headpiece) 21 12. lincoln cathedral. (mostly early english.) 35 13. st. pierre, caen, tower and spire. (spire, 1302.) 37 14. house at chester. (16th century.) 38 15. houses at lisieux, france. (16th century.) 41 16. lancet window. (12th century.) 46 17. two-light window. (13th century.) 47 18. geometrical tracery. (14th century.) 48 19. triforium arcade, westminster abbey. (1269.) 49 20. rose window from the transept of lincoln cathedral 50 21. perpendicular window 51 22. roof of hall at eltham palace. (15th century.) 53 23. henry vii.'s chapel. (1503-1512.) 57 24. spire of st. mary magdalene, warboys, lincolnshire 59 25. decorated spire. all saints' church, oakham 60 26. early arch in receding planes 62 27. arch in receding planes moulded 62 28. doorway, king's college chapel, cambridge. (15th cent.) 63 29. stained glass window from chartres cathedral 65 30. sculpture from chapter house, westminster abbey 67 31. church at fontevrault. (begun 1125.) 70 32. doorway at loches, france. (1180.) 72 33. notre dame, paris, west front. (1214.) 74 34. plan of amiens cathedral. (1220-1272.) 76 35. amiens cathedral, west front. (1220-1272.) 78 36. piers and superstructure, rheims cathedral. (1211-1240.) 80 37. capital from st. nicholas, blois, france. (13th century.) 84 38. beauvais cathedral, interior. (1225-1537.) 86 39. the town hall of middleburgh. (1518.) 89 40. tower at ghent. (begun 1183.) 90 41. abbey church of arnstein. (12th and 13th centuries.) 94 42. church at andernach. (early 13th century.) 96 43. church of st. barbara at kuttenberg. east end. (1358-1548.) 99 44. double church at schwartz-rheindorff. section. (1158.) 101 45. double church at schwartz-rheindorff. (1158.) 102 46. cologne cathedral. ground plan. (begun 1248.) 104 47. western doorway of church at thann. (14th century.) 106 48. church of st. catherine at oppenheim. (1262 to 1439.) 107 49. st. sebald's church at nuremberg. the bride's doorway 109 50. palace of the jurisconsults at cremona 117 51. cathedral at florence. with giotto's campanile 121 52. cathedral at siena. west front and campanile 123 53. cathedral at orvieto. (begun 1290; façade, 1310.) 125 54. ogival window-head 129 55. tracery in window-head, from venice 130 56. window from tivoli 134 57. italian gothic window, with tracery in head 136 58. cathedral at toledo. interior. (begun 1227.) 139 59. the giralda at seville. (begun in 1196; finished in 1568.) 141 60. doorway from church at batalha. (begun 1385.) 151 61. strozzi palace at florence. (begun 1489.) 169 62. part of the loggia del consiglio at verona 171 63. the pandolfini palace, florence. designed by raphael 173 64. st. peter's at rome. interior. (1506-1661.) 177 65. monument by sansovino, in sta. maria del popolo, rome 179 66. palazzo giraud, rome. by bramante. (1506.) 180 67. italian shell ornament 183 68. the church of the redentore, venice. (1576.) 185 69. certosa near pavia. part of west front. (begun 1473.) 188 70. villa medici--on the pincian hill near rome. by annibale lippi (now the _académie française_). (a.d. 1540.) 191 70a. early renaissance corbel 192 71. window from a house at orleans. (early 16th century.) 195 72. capital from the house of francis i., orleans. (1540.) 197 73. pavillon richelieu of the louvre, paris 199 74. part of the tuileries, paris. (begun 1564.) 201 75. capital from delorme's work at the louvre 202 76. hôtel des invalides, paris 204 77. window from colmar. (1575.) 208 78. zeughaus, dantzic. (1605.) 209 79. council-house at leyden. (1599.) 211 80. quadrangle of the castle of schalaburg 213 81. holland house, kensington. (1607.) 216 82. st. paul's cathedral, london. (1675-1710.) 220 83. houses at chester. (16th century.) 225 84. the alcazar at toledo. (begun 1568.) 231 [illustration: {stained glass from chartres cathedral.}] glossary of technical words. abacus.--the upper portion of the capital of a column, upon which the weight to be carried rests. aisle (lat. _ala_).--the side subdivision in a church; occasionally all the subdivisions, including the nave, are called aisles. apse.--a semicircular or polygonal termination to, or projection from, a church or other public building. arcade.--a range of arches, supported on piers or columns. arch.--a construction of wedge-shaped blocks of stone, or of bricks, of a curved outline, and spanning an open space. the principal forms of arch in use are semicircular; acutely-pointed, or lancet; equilateral, or less acutely-pointed; four-centred, or depressed tudor; three-centred, or elliptic; ogival; segmental; and stilted. (figs. _a_ to _f_.) architrave.--(1) the stone which in classic and renaissance architecture is thrown from one column or pilaster to the next. (2) the moulding which in the same styles is used to ornament the margin of a door or window opening or arch. ashlar.--finely-wrought masonry, employed for the facing of a wall of coarser masonry or brick. attic (in renaissance architecture).--a low upper story, distinctly marked in the architecture of the building, usually surmounting an order; (2) in ordinary building, any story in a roof. bailey (from _vallum_).--the enclosure of the courtyard of a castle. ball-flower.--an ornament representing a globular bud, placed usually in a hollow moulding. baluster.--a species of small column, generally of curved outline. balustrade.--a parapet or rail formed of balusters. [illustration: fig. _a_.--semicircular arch.] [illustration: fig. _b_.--stilted arch.] the semicircular and the stilted semicircular arch were the only arches in use till the introduction of the pointed arch. throughout the early english, decorated, and perpendicular periods they occur as exceptional features, but they were practically superseded after the close of the 12th cent. [illustration: fig. _c_.--equilateral arch.] [illustration: fig. _d_.--lancet arch.] the lancet arch was characteristic of the early english period, is never found earlier, and but rarely occurs later. the equilateral arch was the favourite arch of the architects of the geometrical decorated, but is not unfrequently met with in the early part of the perpendicular period. [illustration: fig. _e_.--ogival arch.] [illustration: fig. _f_.--depressed tudor arch.] the depressed (or four-centred) tudor arch is characteristic of the perpendicular period, and was then constantly employed. the ogival arch is occasionally employed late in that period, but was more used by french and italian architects than by those of great britain. band.--a flat moulding or projecting strip of stone. barrel-vaulting.--see waggon-head vaulting. barge-board (or verge-board).--an inclined and pierced or ornamented board placed along the edge of a roof when it overhangs a gable wall. base.--(1) the foot of a column; (2) sometimes that of a buttress or wall. [illustration: fig. _g_.--base of early english shaft.] [illustration: fig. _h_.--base of perpendicular shaft.] [illustration: fig. _i_.--base of decorated shaft.] basilica.--(1) a roman public hall; (2) an early christian church, similar to a roman basilica in disposition. bastion (in fortification).--a bold projecting mass of building, or earthwork thrown out beyond the general line of a wall. battlement.--a notched or indented parapet. bay.--one of the compartments in a building which is made up of several repetitions of the same group of features; _e.g._, in a church the space from one column of the nave arcade to the next is a bay. bay-window.--a window projecting outward from the wall. it may be rectangular or polygonal. it must be built up from the ground. if thrown out above the ground level, a projecting window is called an oriel. (see bow window.) bead.--a small moulding of circular profile. belfry.--a chamber fitted to receive a peal of bells. belfry stage.--the story of a tower where the belfry occurs. usually marked by large open arches or windows, to let the sound escape. bell (of a capital).--the body between the necking and the abacus (which see). billet moulding.--a moulding consisting of a group of small blocks separated by spaces about equal to their own length. blind story.--triforium (which see). boss.--a projecting mass of carving placed to conceal the intersection of the ribs of a vault, or at the end of a string course which it is desired to stop, or in an analogous situation. bow window.--similar to a bay-window (which see), but circular or segmental. broach-spire.--a spire springing from a tower without a parapet and with pyramidal features at the feet of its four oblique sides (see fig. 22) to connect them to the four angles of the tower. broachead (spire).--formed as above described. buttress.--a projection built up against a wall to create additional strength or furnish support (see flying buttress). byzantine.--the round-arched christian architecture of the eastern church, which had its origin in byzantium (constantinople). canopy.--(1) an ornamented projection over doors, windows, &c.; (2) a covering over niches, tombs, &c. campanile.--the italian name for a bell-tower. [illustration: fig. _j_.--buttress.] capital.--the head of a column or pilaster (figs. _l_ to _p_). cathedral.--a church which contains the seat of a bishop; usually a building of the first class. certosa.--a monastery (or church) of carthusian monks. chamfer.--a slight strip pared off from a sharp angle. chancel.--the choir or eastern part of a church. chantry chapel.--a chapel connected with a monument or tomb in which masses were to be chanted. this was usually of small size and very rich. chapel.--(1) a chamber attached to a church and opening out of it, or formed within it, and in which an altar was placed; (2) a small detached church. chapter house.--the hall of assembly of the chapter (dean and canons) of a cathedral. [illustration: fig. _l_.--early norman capital.] [illustration: fig. _m_.--early english capital.] [illustration: fig. _n_.--later norman capital.] [illustration: fig. _o_.--perpendicular capital.] [illustration: fig. _p_.--early french capital.] château.--the french name for a country mansion. chevron.--a zig-zag ornament. chevet.--the french name for an apse when surrounded by chapels; see the plan of westminster abbey (fig. 6). choir.--the part of a church in which the services are celebrated; usually, but not always, the east end or chancel. in a spanish church the choir is often at the crossing. clerestory.--the upper story or row of windows lighting the nave of a gothic church. cloister.--a covered way round a quadrangle of a monastic building. clustered (shafts).--grouped so as to form a pier of some mass out of several small shafts. corbel.--a projecting stone (or timber) supporting, or seeming to support, a weight (fig. _k_). [illustration: fig. _k_.--early renaissance corbel.] corbelling.--a series of mouldings doing the same duty as a corbel; a row of corbels. corbel table.--a row of corbels supporting an overhanging parapet or cornice. cortile (italian).--the internal arcaded quadrangle of a palace, mansion, or public building. column.--a stone or marble post, divided usually into base, shaft, and capital; distinguished from a pier by the shaft being cylindrical or polygonal, and in one, or at most, in few pieces. cornice.--the projecting and crowning portion of an order (which see) or of a building, or of a stage or story of a building. course.--a horizontal layer of stones in the masonry of a building. crocket.--a tuft of leaves arranged in a formal shape, used to decorate ornamental gables, the ribs of spires, &c. [illustration: fig. _q_.--decorated crocket.] [illustration: fig. _r_.--perpendicular crocket.] crossing.--the intersection (which see) in a church or cathedral. cross vault.--a vault of which the arched surfaces intersect one another, forming a groin (which see). crypt.--the basement under a church or other building (almost invariably vaulted). cusp.--the projecting point thrown out to form the leaf-shaped forms or foliations in the heads of gothic windows, and in tracery and panels. dec. } the gothic architecture of the fourteenth century decorated. } in england. _abbreviated_ dec. detail.--the minuter features of a design or building, especially its mouldings and carving. diaper (gothic).--an uniform pattern of leaves or flowers carved or painted on the surface of a wall. [illustration: fig. _s_.--diaper in spandrel, from westminster abbey.] dogtooth.--a sharply-pointed ornament in a hollow moulding which is peculiar to early english gothic. it somewhat resembles a blunt tooth. dormer window.--a window pierced through a sloping roof and placed under a small gable or roof of its own. dome.--a cupola or spherical convex roof, ordinarily circular on plan. domical vaulting.--vaulting in which a series of small domes are employed; in contradistinction to a waggon-head vault, or an intersecting vault. double tracery.--two layers of tracery one behind the other and with a clear space between. e. e. } the gothic architecture of england in the early english. } thirteenth century. _abbreviated_ e. e. eaves.--the verge or edge of a roof overhanging the wall. eaves-course.--a moulding carrying the eaves. elevation.--(1) a geometrical drawing of part of the exterior or interior walls of a building; (2) the architectural treatment of the exterior or interior walls of a building. elizabethan.--the architecture of england in, and for some time after, the reign of elizabeth. embattled.--finished with battlements, or in imitation of battlements. enrichments.--the carved (or coloured) decorations applied to the mouldings or other features of an architectural design. (see mouldings.) entablature (in classic and renaissance architecture).--the superstructure above the columns where an order is employed. it is divided into the architrave, which rests on the columns, the frieze and the cornice. façade.--the front of a building or of a principal part of a building. fan vault.--the vaulting in use in england in the fifteenth century, in which a series of conoids bearing some resemblance to an open fan are employed. fillet.--a small moulding of square flat section. [illustration: fig. _t_.--perpendicular finial.] finial.--a formally arranged bunch of foliage or other similar ornament forming the top of a pinnacle, gablet, or other ornamented feature of gothic architecture. flamboyant style.--the late gothic architecture of france at the end of the fifteenth century, so called from the occurrence of flame-shaped forms in the tracery. flèche.--a name adapted from the french. a slender spire, mostly placed on a roof; not often so called if on a tower. flying buttress.--a buttress used to steady the upper and inner walls of a vaulted building, placed at some distance from the wall which it supports, and connected with it by an arch. [illustration: fig. _u_.--flying buttress.] foil.--a leaf-shaped form produced by adding cusps to the curved outline of a window head or piece of tracery. foliation.--the decoration of an opening, or of tracery by means of foils and cusps. fosse.--the ditch of a fortress. françois i. style.--the early renaissance architecture of france during part of the sixteenth century. frieze.--(1) the middle member of a classic or renaissance entablature; this was often sculptured and carved; (2) any band of sculptured ornament. gable.--the triangular-shaped wall carrying the end of a roof. gablet.--a small gable (usually ornamental only). gallery.--(1) an apartment of great length in proportion to its width; (2) a raised floor or stage in a building. gargoyle.--a projecting waterspout, usually carved in stone, more rarely formed of metal. geometrical.--the architecture of the earlier part of the decorated period in england. grille.--a grating or ornamental railing of metal. groin.--the curved line which is made by the meeting of the surfaces of two vaults or portions of vaults which intersect. group.--an assemblage of shafts or mouldings or other small features intended to produce a combined effect. grouping.--combining architectural features as above. hall.--(1) the largest room in an ancient english mansion, or a college, &c.; (2) any large and stately apartment. half timbered construction.--a mode of building in which a framework of timbers is displayed and the spaces between them are filled in with plaster or tiles. hammer beam roof.--a roof peculiar to english architecture of the fifteenth century, deriving its name from the use of a hammer beam (a large bracket projecting from the walls) to partly support the rafters. head (of an arch or other opening).--the portion within the curve; whether filled in by masonry or left open, sometimes called a tympanum. hip.--the external angle formed by the meeting of two sloping sides of a roof where there is no gable. hôtel (french).--a town mansion. impost.--a moulding or other line marking the top of the jambs of an arched opening, and the starting point, or apparent starting point, of the arch. inlay.--a mode of decoration in which coloured materials are laid into sinkings of ornamental shape, cut into the surface to be decorated. intersection (or crossing).--the point in a church where the transepts cross the nave. intersecting vaults.--vaults of which the surfaces cut one another. interpenetration.--a german mode of treating mouldings, as though two or more sets of them existed in the same stone and they could pass through (interpenetrate) each other. jamb.--the side of a door or window or arch, or other opening. [illustration: fig. _v_.--plan of a jamb and central pier of a gothic doorway.] keep.--the tower which formed the stronghold of a mediæval castle. king post.--the middle post in the framing of a timber roof. lancet arch.--the sharply-pointed window-head and arch, characteristic of english gothic in the thirteenth century. lantern.--a conspicuous feature rising above a roof or crowning a dome, and intended usually to light a hall, but often introduced simply as an architectural finish to the whole building. lierne (rib).--a rib intermediate between the main ribs in gothic vaulting. light.--one of the divisions of a window of which the entire width is divided by one or more mullions. lintel.--the stone or beam covering a doorway or other opening not spanned by an arch. sometimes applied to the architrave of an order. loggia (italian).--an open arcade with a gallery behind. loop.--short for loophole. a very narrow slit in the wall of a fortress, serving as a window, or to shoot through. lucarne.--a spire-light. a small window like a slender dormer window. moat (or fosse).--the ditch round a fortress or semi-fortified house. mosaic.--an ornament for pavements, walls, and the surfaces of vaults, formed by cementing together small pieces of coloured material (stone, marble, tile, &c.) so as to produce a pattern or picture. moulding.--a term applied to all varieties of contour or outline given to the angles, projections, or recesses of the various parts of a building. the object being either to produce an outline satisfactory to the eye; or, more frequently, to obtain a play of light and shade, and to produce the appearance of a line or a series of lines, broad or narrow, and of varying intensity of lightness or shade in the building or some of its features. the contour which a moulding would present when cut across in a direction at right angles to its length is called its profile. the profile of mouldings varied with each style of architecture and at each period (figs. _w_ to _z_). when ornaments are carved out of some of the moulded surfaces the latter are technically termed enriched mouldings. the enrichments in use varied with each style and each period, as the mouldings themselves did. mullion.--the upright bars of stone frequently employed (especially in gothic architecture) to subdivide one window into two or more lights. nave.--(1) the central avenue of a church or cathedral; (2) the western part of a church as distinguished from the chancel or choir; (3) occasionally, any avenue in the interior of a building which is divided by one or more rows of columns running lengthways is called a nave. necking (of a column).--the point (usually marked by a fillet or other small projecting moulding) where the shaft ends and the capital begins. newel post.--the stout post at the foot of a staircase from which the balustrade or the handrail starts. [illustration: fig. _w_.--arch moulding. (gothic, 12th century.)] [illustration: fig. _y_.--arch moulding. (decorated, 14th century.)] [illustration: fig. _z_.--arch moulding. (gothic, 13th century.)] niche.--a recess in a wall for a statue, vase, or other upright ornament. norman.--the architecture of england from the norman conquest till the latter part of the twelfth century. ogee.--a moulding or line of part concave and part convex curvature (see fig. _e_, showing an ogee-shaped arch). ogival.--ogee-shaped (see fig. 54). open tracery.--tracery in which the spaces between the bars are neither closed by slabs of stone nor glazed. order.--(1) in classical and renaissance architecture a single column or pilaster and its appropriate entablature or superstructure; (2) a series of columns or pilasters with their entablature; (3) an entire decorative system appropriate to the kind of column chosen. in renaissance architecture there are five orders--the tuscan, doric, ionic, corinthian, and composite. each has its own proper column, and its proper base, shaft, and capital; and its own entablature. the proportions and the degree of enrichment appropriate to each vary. the tuscan being the sturdiest and plainest, the composite the most slender and most small, and the others taking place in the succession in which they stand enumerated above. where more than one order occurs in a building, as constantly happens in classic and renaissance buildings, the orders which are the plainest and most sturdy (and have been named first) if employed, are invariably placed below the more slender orders; _e.g._ the doric is never placed _over_ the corinthian or the ionic, but if employed in combination with either of those orders it is always the lowest in position. oriel.--a window projecting like a bay or bow window, not resting on the ground but thrown out above the ground level and resting on a corbel. palladian.--a phase of fully developed renaissance architecture introduced by the architect palladio, and largely followed in england as well as in italy. panel.--(1) the thinner portions of the framed woodwork of doors and other such joiner's work; (2) all sunk compartments in masonry, ceilings, &c. panelling.--(1) woodwork formed of framework containing panels; (2) any decoration formed of a series of sunk compartments. parapet.--a breastwork or low wall used to protect the gutters and screen the roofs of buildings; also, perhaps primarily, to protect the ramparts of fortifications. [illustration: fig. _a a_.--open parapet, late decorated.] [illustration: fig. _b b_.--battlemented parapet, perpendicular.] pavilion.--a strongly marked single block of building; most frequently applied to those blocks in french and other renaissance buildings that are marked out by high roofs. pedestal.--(1) a substructure sometimes placed under a column in renaissance architecture; (2) a similar substructure intended to carry a statue, vase, or other ornament. pediment.--(1) the gable, where used in renaissance buildings; (2) an ornamental gable sometimes placed over windows, doors, and other features in gothic buildings. perp. } the gothic architecture of the fifteenth century perpendicular. } in england. _abbreviated_ perp. pier.--(1) a mass of walling, either a detached portion of a wall or a distinct structure of masonry, taking the place of a column in the arcade of a church or elsewhere; (2) a group or cluster of shafts substituted for a column. [illustration: fig. _c c_.--early english piers.] [illustration: fig. _d d_.--late decorated and perpendicular piers.] pilaster.--a square column, usually attached to a wall; frequently used in classic and renaissance architecture in combination with columns. pinnacle (in gothic architecture).--a small turret, or ornament, usually with a pointed top, employed to mark the summit of gables, buttresses, and other tall features. pitch.--the degree of slope given to a roof, gable, or pediment. plan.--(1) a map of the floor of a building, showing the piers, if any, and the walls which inclose and divide it, with the openings in them; (2) the actual arrangement and disposition of the floors, piers, and walls of the building itself. plane.--the imaginary surface within which a series of mouldings lies, and which coincides with the salient and important points of that series. mouldings are said to be on an oblique plane when their plane forms an angle less than a right angle with the face of the wall; and in receding planes, when they can be divided into a series of groups of more or less stepped outline, each within and behind the other, and each partly bounded by a plane parallel with the face of the wall. plaster.--the plastic material, of which the groundwork is lime and sand, used to cover walls internally and to form ceilings. sometimes employed as a covering to walls externally. plinth.--the base of a wall or of a column or range of columns. portal.--a dignified and important entrance doorway. portico.--a range of columns with their entablature (and usually covered by a pediment), marking the entrance to a renaissance or classic building. prismatic rustication.--in elizabethan architecture rusticated masonry with diamond-shaped projections worked on the face of each stone. profile.--the contour or outline of mouldings as they would appear if sawn across at right angles to their length. porch.--a small external structure to protect and ornament the doorway to a building (rarely met with in renaissance). quatrefoil.--a four-leaved ornament occupying a circle in tracery or a panel. rafters.--the sloping beams of a roof upon which the covering of the roof rests. ragstone.--a coarse stone found in parts of kent and elsewhere, and used for walling. receding planes.--(see plane.) recess.--a sinking in a building deeper than a mere panel. recessing.--forming one or more recesses. throwing back some part of a building behind the general face. renaissance.--the art of the period of the classic revival which began in the sixteenth century. in this volume used chiefly to denote the architecture of europe in that and the succeeding centuries. rib (in gothic vaulting).--a bar of masonry or moulding projecting beyond the general surface of a vault, to mark its intersections or subdivide its surface, and to add strength. ridge.--(1) the straight line or ornament which marks the summit of a roof; (2) the line or rib, straight or curved, which marks the summit of a vault. roll.--a round moulding. rose window.--a wheel window (which see). rubble.--rough stonework forming the heart of a masonry wall; sometimes faced with ashlar (which see), sometimes shown. rustication (or rusticated masonry).--the sort of ornamental ashlar masonry (chiefly classic and renaissance) in which each stone is distinguished by a broad channel all round it, marking the joints. rustics.--the individual blocks of stone used in rustication (as described above). screen.--an internal partition or inclosure cutting off part of a building. at the entrance to the choir of a church screens of beautiful workmanship were used. scroll moulding.--a round roll moulding showing a line along its face (distinctive of decorated gothic). scroll work.--ornament showing winding spiral lines like the edge of a scroll of paper (chiefly found in elizabethan). section.--(1) a drawing of a building as it would appear if cut through at some fixed plane. (2) that part of the construction of a building which would be displayed by such a drawing as described above. (3) the profile of a moulding. set-off.--a small ledge formed by diminishing the thickness of a wall or pier. sexpartite vaulting.--where each bay or compartment is divided by its main ribs into six portions. sgraffito (italian).--an ornament produced by scratching lines on the plastered face of a building so as to show a different colour filling up the lines or surfaces scratched away. shaft.--(1) the middle part of a column between its base and capital. (2) in gothic, slender columns introduced for ornamental purposes, singly or in clusters. shell ornament.--a decoration frequently employed in italian and french renaissance, and resembling the interior of a shell. sky-line.--the outline which a building will show against the sky. spandrel.--the triangular (or other shaped) space between the outside of an arch and the mouldings, or surfaces inclosing it or in contact with it. (see fig. _s_, under diaper.) spire.--the steep and pointed roof of a tower (usually a church tower). spire-light (or lucarne).--a dormer window (which see) in a spire. splay.--a slope making with the face of a wall an angle less than a right angle. stage.--one division in the height of any building or portion of a building where horizontal divisions are distinctly marked, _e.g._, the belfry stage of a tower, the division in which the bells are hung. steeple.--a tower and spire in combination. sometimes applied to a tower or spire separately. stepped gable.--a gable in which, instead of a sloping line, the outline is formed by a series of steps. stilted arch.--an arch of which the curve does not commence till above the level of the impost (which see). story.--(1) the portion of a building between one floor and the next; (2) any stage or decidedly marked horizontal compartment of a building, even if not corresponding to an actual story marked by a floor. strap-work (elizabethan).--an ornament representing strap-like fillets interlaced. string-course.--a projecting horizontal (or occasionally sloping) band or line of mouldings. tabernacle work.--the richly ornamented and carved work with which the smaller and more precious features of a church, _e.g._, the fittings of a choir, were adorned and made conspicuous. terminal (or finial).--the ornamental top of a pinnacle, gable, &c. terra-cotta.--a fine kind of brick capable of being highly ornamented, and formed into blocks of some size. thrust.--the pressure exercised laterally by an arch or vault, or by the timbers of a roof on the abutments or supports. tie.--a beam of wood, bar of iron, or similar expedient employed to hold together the feet or sides of an arch, vault, or roof, and so counteract the thrust. torus.--a large convex moulding. tower.--a portion of a building rising conspicuously above the general mass, and obviously distinguished by its height from that mass. a detached building of which the height is great, relative to the width and breadth. tracery (gothic).--the ornamental stonework formed by the curving and interlacing of bars of stone, and occupying the heads of windows, panels, and other situations where decoration and lightness have to be combined. the simplest and earliest tracery might be described as a combination of openings pierced through the stone head of an arch. cusping and foliation (which see) are features of tracery. (see figs. 18, 19, 55, and 57 in the text.) [illustration: fig. _e e_.--perpendicular window-head.] [illustration: fig. _f f_.--late perpendicular window-head.] transept.--the arms of a church or cathedral which cross the line of the nave. transition.--the architecture of a period coming between and sharing the characteristics of two distinctly marked styles or phases of architecture, one of which succeeded the other. transom.--a horizontal bar (usually of stone) across a window or panel. trefoil.--a three-leaved or three-lobed form found constantly in the heads of windows and in other situations where tracery is employed. triforium (or thorough-fare).--the story in a large church or cathedral intermediate between the arcade separating the nave and aisles, and the clerestory. tudor.--the architecture of england during the reigns of the tudor kings. the use of the term is usually, however, restricted to a period which closes with the end of henry viii.'s reign, 1547. turret.--a small tower, sometimes rising from the ground, but often carried on corbels and commencing near the upper part of the building to which it is an appendage. tympanum.--the filling in of the head of an arch, or occasionally of an ornamental gable. undercutting.--a moulding or ornament of which the greater part stands out from the mouldings or surfaces which it adjoins, as though almost or quite detached from them, is said to be undercut. vault.--an arched ceiling to a building, or part of a building, executed in masonry or in some substitute for masonry. the vaults of the norman period were simple barrelor waggon-headed vaults, and semicircular arches only were used in their construction. with the gothic period the use of intersecting, and as a result of pointed arches, was introduced into vaulting, and vaults went on increasing in complexity and elaboration till the tudor period, when fan-vaulting was employed. our illustrations show some of the steps in the development of gothic vaults referred to in chapter v. of the text. no. 1 represents a waggon-head vault with an intersecting vault occupying part of its length. no. 2 represents one of the expedients adopted for vaulting an oblong compartment before the pointed arch was introduced. the narrower arch is stilted and the line of the groin is not true. no. 3 represents a similar compartment vaulted without any distortion or irregularity by the help of the pointed arch. no. 4 represents one lay of a sexpartite gothic vault. no. 5 represents a vault with lierne ribs making a star-shaped pallom on plan, and no. 6 is a somewhat more intricate example of the same class of vault. [illustration: fig. _g g_.--vaults.] vaults are met with in renaissance buildings, but they are a less distinctive feature of such buildings than they were in the gothic period; and in many cases where a vault or a series of vaults would have been employed by a gothic architect, a renaissance architect has preferred to make use of a dome or a series of domes. this is called domical vaulting. examples of it occur occasionally in gothic work. waggon-head vaulting, or barrel-vaulting.--a simple form of tunnel-like vaulting, which gets its name from its resemblance to the tilt often seen over large waggons, or to the half of a barrel. wainscot.--(1) the panelling often employed to line the walls of a room or building; (2) a finely marked variety of oak imported chiefly from holland; probably so called because wainscot oak was at one time largely employed for such panelling. weathering.--a sloping surface of stone employed to cover the set-off (which see) of a wall or buttress and protect it from the effects of weather. wheel window.--a circular window, and usually one in which mullions radiate from a centre towards the circumference like the spokes of a wheel; sometimes called a rose-window. window-head.--for illustrations of the various forms and filling-in of gothic window-heads, see the words arch and tracery. [illustration: {ornamental dolphin pattern.}] head and tailpieces. page headpiece.--crête from notre dame, paris 1 " sculptured ornament from rheims cathedral 6 " " " sens cathedral 21 " " " westminster abbey 28 tailpiece.--norman capitals 44 headpiece.--sculptured ornament from westminster abbey 45 tailpiece.--miserere seat from wells cathedral 68 headpiece.--stained glass from chartres cathedral 69 tailpiece.--miserere seat from wells cathedral 92 " ornament from rheims cathedral 153 headpiece.--renaissance ornament from a frieze 154 " from a terra-cotta frieze at lodi 165 tailpiece.--from a door in santa maria, venice 192 headpiece.--ornament by giulio romano 193 " from a frieze at venice 235 the end-papers are from a tapestry in hardwick hall. [illustration: _the lily of florence._] [illustration: {crête from notre dame, paris.}] gothic architecture. chapter i. introduction. the architecture generally known as gothic, but often described as christian pointed, prevailed throughout europe to the exclusion of every rival for upwards of three centuries; and it is to be met with, more or less, during two others. speaking broadly, it may be said that its origin took place in the twelfth century, that the thirteenth was the period of its development, the fourteenth that of its perfection, and the fifteenth that of its decline; while many examples of its employment occur in the sixteenth. in the following chapters the principal changes in the features of buildings which occurred during the progress of the style in england will be described. subsequently, the manner in which the different stages of development were reached in different countries will be given; for architecture passed through very nearly the same phases in all european nations, though not quite simultaneously. it must be understood that through the whole gothic period, growth or at least change was going on; the transitions from one stage to another were only periods of more rapid change than usual. the whole process may be illustrated by the progress of a language. if, for instance, we compare round-arched architecture in the eleventh century to the anglo-saxon form of speech of the time of alfred the great, and the architecture of the twelfth century to the english of chaucer, that of the thirteenth will correspond to the richer language of shakespeare, that of the fourteenth to the highly polished language of addison and pope, and that of the fifteenth to the english of our own day. we can thus obtain an apt parallel to the gradual change and growth which went on in architecture; and we shall find that the oneness of the language in the former case, and of the architecture in the latter, was maintained throughout. for an account of the christian round-arched architecture which preceded gothic, the reader is referred to the companion volume in this series. here it will be only necessary briefly to review the circumstances which went before the appearance of the pointed styles. the roman empire had introduced into europe some thing like a universal architecture, so that the buildings of any roman colony bore a strong resemblance to those of every other colony and of the metropolis; varying, of course, in extent and magnificence, but not much in design. the architecture of the dark ages in western europe exhibited, so far as is known, the same general similarity. down to the eleventh century the buildings erected (almost exclusively churches and monastic buildings) were not large or rich, and were heavy in appearance and simple in construction. their arches were all semicircular. the first rays of light across the gloom of the dark ages seem to have come from the energy and ability of charlemagne in the eighth century. in the succeeding century, this activity received a check; an idea became generally prevalent that the year one thousand was to see the end of the world; men's minds were overshadowed with apprehension; and buildings, in common with other undertakings of a permanent nature, were but little attempted. when the millennium came and passed, and left all as it had been, a kind of revulsion of feeling was experienced; many important undertakings were set on foot, such as during the preceding years it had not been thought worth while to prosecute. the eleventh century thus became a time of great religious activity; and if the first crusade, which took place 1095, may be taken as one outcome of that pious zeal, another can certainly be found in the large and often costly churches and monasteries which rose in every part of england, france, germany, lombardy, and south italy. keen rivalry raged among the builders of these churches; each one was built larger and finer than the previous examples, and the details began to grow elaborate. construction and ornament were in fact advancing and improving, if not from year to year, at any rate from decade to decade, so that by the commencement of the twelfth century a remarkable development had taken place. the ideas of the dimensions of churches then entertained were really almost as liberal as during the best period of gothic architecture. an illustration of this fact is furnished by the rebuilding of westminster abbey under edward the confessor. he pulled down a small church which he found standing on the site, in order to erect one suitable in size and style to the ideas of the day. the style of his cathedral (but not its dimensions) soon became so much out of date that henry iii. pulled the buildings down in order to re-erect them of the lofty proportions and with the pointed arches which we now see in the choir and transepts of the abbey; but the size remained nearly the same, for there is evidence to show that the confessor's buildings must have occupied very nearly, if not quite, as much ground as those which succeeded them. at the beginning of the twelfth century many local peculiarities, some of them due to accident, some to the nature and quality of the building materials obtainable, some to differences of race, climate, and habits, and some to other causes, had begun to make their appearance in the buildings of various parts of europe; and through the whole gothic period such peculiarities were to be met with. still the points of similarity were greater and more numerous than the differences; so much so, that by going through the course which gothic architecture ran in one of the countries in which it flourished, it will readily be possible to furnish a general outline of the subject as a whole; it will then only be requisite to point out the principal variations in the practice of other countries. on some grounds france would be the most suitable country to select for this purpose, for gothic appeared earlier and flourished more brilliantly in that country than in any other; the balance of advantage lies however, when writing for english students, in the selection of great britain. the various phases through which the art passed are well marked in this country, they have been fully studied and described, and, what is of the greatest importance, english examples are easily accessible to the majority of students, while those which cannot be visited may be very readily studied from engravings and photographs. english gothic will therefore be first considered; but as a preliminary a few words remain to be said describing generally the buildings which have come down to us from the gothic period. the word gothic, which was in use in the eighteenth century, and probably earlier, was invented at a time when a goth was synonymous with everything that was barbarous; and its use then implied a reproach. it denotes, according to mr. fergusson, "all the styles invented and used by the western barbarians who overthrew the roman empire, and settled within its limits." [illustration: fig 1.--west entrance, lichfield cathedral, (1275.) (_see chapter v._)] [illustration: {sculptured ornament from rheims cathedral.}] chapter ii. the buildings of the middle ages. by far the most important specimens of gothic architecture are the cathedrals and large churches which were built during the prevalence of the style. they were more numerous, larger, and more complete as works of art than any other structures, and accordingly they are to be considered on every account as the best examples of pointed architecture. [illustration: fig. 2.--ground plan of peterborough cathedral. (1118 to 1193.) a. nave. b b. transepts. c. choir. d d. aisles. e. principal entrance.] [illustration: fig. 3.--transverse section of the nave of salisbury cathedral. (a.d. 1217).] the arrangement and construction of a gothic cathedral were customarily as follows:--(see fig. 2.) the main axis of the building was always east and west, the principal entrance being at the west end, usually under a grand porch or portal, and the high altar stood at the east end. the plan (or main floor) of the building almost always displays the form of a cross. the stem of the cross is the part from the west entrance to the crossing, and is called the nave. the arms of the cross are called transepts, and point respectively north and south. their crossing with the nave is often called the intersection. the remaining arm, which prolongs the stem eastwards, is ordinarily called the choir, but sometimes the presbytery, and sometimes the chancel. all these names really refer to the position of the internal fittings of the church, and it is often more accurate simply to employ the term eastern arm for this portion of a church. the nave is flanked by two avenues running parallel to it, narrower and lower than itself, called aisles. they are separated from it by rows of columns or piers, connected together by arches. thus the nave has an arcade on each side of it, and each aisle has an arcade on one side, and a main external wall on the other. the aisle walls are usually pierced by windows. the arches of the arcade carry walls which rise above the roofs of the aisles, and light the nave. these walls are usually subdivided internally into two heights or stories; the lower story consists of a series of small arches, to which the name of triforium is given. this arcade usually opens into the dark space above the ceiling or vault of the aisle, and hence it is sometimes called the blind story. the upper story is the range of windows already alluded to as lighting the nave, and is called the clerestory. thus a spectator standing in the nave, and looking towards the side (figs. 4 and 5), will see opposite him the main arcade, and over that the triforium, and over that the clerestory, crowned by the nave vault or roof; and looking through the arches of the nave arcade, he will see the side windows of the aisle. above the clerestory of the nave, and the side windows of the aisles, come the vaults or roofs. in some instances double aisles (two on each side) have been employed. the transepts usually consist of well-marked limbs, divided like the nave into a centre avenue and two side aisles, and these usually are of the same width and height as the nave and its aisles. sometimes there are no transepts; sometimes they do not project beyond the line of the walls, but still are marked by their rising above the lower height of the nave aisles. sometimes the transepts have no aisles, or an aisle only on one side.[1] on the other hand, it is sometimes customary, especially in english examples, to form two pairs of transepts. this occurs in lichfield cathedral. [illustration: fig. 4.--choir of worcester cathedral. (begun 1224.) a. nave arcade. b. triforium. c. clerestory.] [illustration: fig. 5.--nave of wells cathedral. (1206 to 1242.) a. nave arcade. b. triforium. c. clerestory.] the eastern arm of the cathedral is the part to which most importance was attached, and it is usual to mark that importance by greater richness, and by a difference in the height of its roof or vault as compared with the nave; its floor is always raised. it also has its central passage and its aisles; and it has double aisles much more frequently than the nave. the eastern termination of the cathedral is sometimes semicircular, sometimes polygonal, and when it takes this form it is called an apse or an apsidal east end; sometimes it is square, the apse being most in use on the continent, and the square east end in england. attached to some of the side walls of the church it is usual to have a series of chapels; these are ordinarily chambers partly shut off from the main structure, but opening into it by arched openings; each chapel contains an altar. the finest chapel is usually one placed on the axis of the cathedral, and east of the east end of the main building; this is called, where it exists, the lady chapel, and was customarily dedicated to the virgin. henry vii.'s chapel at westminster (fig. 6) furnishes a familiar instance of the lady chapel of a great church. next in importance rank the side chapels which open out of the aisles of the apse, when there is one. westminster abbey furnishes good examples of these also. the eastern wall of the transept is a favourite position for chapels. they are less frequently added to the nave aisles. the floor of the eastern arm of the cathedral, as has been pointed out, is always raised, so as to be approached by steps; it is inclosed by screen work which shuts off the choir, or inclosure for the performance of divine service, from the nave. the fittings of this part of the building generally include stalls for the clergy and choristers and a bishop's throne, and are usually beautiful works of art. tombs, and inclosures connected with them, called chantry chapels, are constantly met with in various positions, but most frequently in the eastern arm. [illustration: fig. 6.--ground plan of westminster abbey.] below the raised floor of the choir, and sometimes below other parts of the building, there often exists a subterranean vaulted structure known as the crypt. passing to the exterior of the cathedral, the principal doorway is in the western front:[2] usually supplemented by entrances at the ends of the transepts, and one or more side entrances to the nave. a porch on the north side of the nave is a common feature. the walls are now seen to be strengthened by stone piers, called buttresses. frequently arches are thrown from these buttresses to the higher walls of the building. the whole arrangement of pier and arch is called a flying buttress,[3] and, as will be explained later, is used to steady the upper part of the building when a stone vault is employed (see chap. v.). the lofty gables in which the nave and transepts, and the eastern arm when square terminate, form prominent features, and are often occupied by great windows. in a complete cathedral, the effect of the exterior is largely due to the towers with which it was adorned. the most massive tower was ordinarily one which stood, like the central one of lichfield cathedral, at the crossing of the nave and transepts. two towers were usually intended at the western front of the building, and sometimes one, or occasionally two, at the end of each transept. it is rare to find a cathedral where the whole of these towers have been even begun, much less completed. in many cases only one, in others three, have been built. in some instances they have been erected, and have fallen. in others they have never been carried up at all. during a large portion of the gothic period it was usual to add to each tower a lofty pyramidal roof or spire, and these are still standing in some instances, though many of them have disappeared. occasionally a tower was built quite detached from the church to which it belonged. to cathedrals and abbey churches a group of monastic buildings was appended. it will not be necessary to describe these in much detail. they were grouped round an open square, surrounded by a vaulted and arcaded passage, which is known as the cloister. this was usually fitted into the warm and sheltered angle formed by the south side of the nave and the south transept, though occasionally the cloister is found on the north side of the nave. the most important building opening out of the cloister is the chapter-house, frequently a lofty and richly-ornamented room, often octagonal, and generally standing south of the south transept. the usual arrangement of the monastic buildings round and adjoining the cloister varied in details with the requirements of the different monastic orders, and the circumstances of each individual religious house, but, as in the case of churches, the general principles of disposition were fixed early. they are embodied in a manuscript plan, dating as far back as the ninth century, and found at st. gall in switzerland, and never seem to have been widely departed from. the monks' dormitory here occupies the whole east side of the great cloister, there being no chapter-house. it is usually met with as nearly in this position as the transept and the chapter-house will permit. the refectory is on the south side of the cloister, and has a connected kitchen. the west side of the cloister in this instance was occupied by a great cellar. frequently a hospitum, or apartment for entertaining guests, stood here. the north side of the cloister was formed by the church. for the abbot a detached house was provided in the st. gall plan to stand on the north side of the church; and a second superior hospitum for his guests. eastward of the church are placed the infirmary with its chapel, and an infirmarer's lodging. the infirmary was commonly arranged with a nave and aisles, much like, a small parish church. other detached buildings gave a public school, a school for novices with its chapel, and, more remotely placed, granaries, mills, a bakehouse, and other offices. a garden and a cemetery formed part of the scheme, which corresponds tolerably well with that of many monastic buildings remaining in england, as _e.g._, those at fountains' abbey, furness abbey, or westminster abbey, so far as they can be traced. generally speaking the principal buildings in a monastery were long and not very wide apartments, with windows on both sides. frequently they were vaulted, and they often had a row of columns down the middle. many are two stories high. of the dependencies, the kitchen, which was often a vaulted apartment with a chimney, and the barn, which was often of great size, were the most prominent. they are often fine buildings. at glastonbury very good examples of a monastic barn and kitchen can be seen. second only in importance to the churches and religious buildings come the military and domestic buildings of the gothic period (fig. 7). [illustration: fig. 7.--house of jaques coeur at bourges. (begun 1413.)] every dwelling-house of consequence was more or less fortified, at any rate during the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries. a lofty square tower, called a keep, built to stand a siege, and with a walled inclosure at its feet, often protected by a wide ditch (fosse or moat), formed the castle of the twelfth century, and in some cases (_e.g._ the white tower of london), this keep was of considerable size. the first step in enlargement was to increase the number and importance of the buildings which clustered round the keep, and to form two inclosures for them, known as an inner and an outer bailey. the outer buildings of the tower of london, though much modernised, will give a good idea of what a first class castle grew to be by successive additions of this sort. in castles erected near the end of the thirteenth century (_e.g._ conway castle in north wales), and later, the square form of the keep was abandoned, and many more arrangements for the comfort and convenience of the occupants were introduced; and the buildings and additions to buildings of the fifteenth century took more the shape of a modern dwelling-house, partly protected against violence, but by no means strong enough to stand a siege. penshurst may be cited as a good example of this class of building. it will be understood that, unlike the religious buildings which early received the form and disposition from which they did not depart widely, mediæval domestic buildings exhibit an amount of change in which we can readily trace the effects of the gradual settlement of this country, the abandonment of habits of petty warfare, the ultimate cessation of civil wars, the introduction of gunpowder, the increase in wealth and desire for comfort, and last, but not least, the confiscation by henry viii. of the property of the monastic houses. [illustration: fig. 8.--plan of warwick castle. (14th and following centuries.)] warwick castle, of which we give a plan (fig. 8), maybe cited as a good example of an english castellated mansion of the time of richard ii. below the principal story there is a vaulted basement containing the kitchens and many of the offices. on the main floor we find the hall, entered as usual at the lower or servants' end, from a porch. the upper end gives access to a sitting-room, built immediately behind it, and beyond are a drawing-room and state bed-rooms, while across a passage are placed the private chapel and a large dining-room (a modern addition). bed-rooms occupy the upper floors of the buildings at both ends of the hall. perhaps even more interesting as a study than warwick castle is haddon hall, the well-preserved residence of the duke of rutland, in derbyshire. the five or six successive enlargements and additions which this building has received between the thirteenth and seventeenth centuries show the growth of ideas of comfort and even luxury in this country. as it now stands, haddon hall contains two internal quadrangles, separated from one another by the great hall with its dais, its minstrels' gallery, its vast open fire-place, and its traceried windows, and by the kitchens, butteries, &c., belonging to it. the most important apartments are reached from the upper end of the hall, and consist of the magnificent ball-room, and a dining-room in the usual position, _i.e._ adjoining the hall and opening out of it; with, on the upper floor, a drawing-room, and a suite of state bed-rooms, occupying the south side of both quadrangles and the east end of one. a large range of apartments, added at a late period, and many of them finely panelled and lined with tapestry, occupies the north side of this building and the northwestern tower. at the south-western corner of the building stands a chapel of considerable size, and which once seems to have served as a kind of parochial church; and a very considerable number of rooms of small size, opening out of both quadrangles, would afford shelter, if not comfortable lodging, to retainers, servants, and others. the portions built in the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries are more or less fortified. the ball-room, which is of elizabethan architecture, opens on to a terraced garden, accessible from without by no more violent means than climbing over a not very formidable wall. probably nowhere in england, can the growth of domestic architecture be better studied, whether we look to the alterations which took place in accommodation and arrangement, or to the changes which occurred in the architectural treatment of windows, battlements, doorways and other features, than at haddon hall. [illustration: fig. 9.--palaces on the grand canal, venice. (14th century.)] in towns and cities much beautiful domestic architecture is to be found in the ordinary dwelling-houses, _e.g._ houses from chester and lisieux (figs. 14 and 15); but many specimens have of course perished, especially as timber was freely used in their construction. dwelling-houses of a high order of excellence, and of large size, were also built during this period. the gothic palaces of venice, of which many stand on the grand canal (fig. 9), are the best examples of these, and the lordly ducal palace in that city is perhaps the finest secular building which exists of gothic architecture. municipal buildings of great size and beauty are to be found in north italy and germany, but chiefly in belgium, where the various town-halls of louvain, bruges, ypres, ghent, antwerp, brussels, &c., vie with each other in magnificence and extent. * * * * * many secular buildings also remain to us of which the architecture is gothic. among these we find public halls and large buildings for public purposes--as westminster hall, or the palace of justice at rouen; hospitals, as that at milan; or colleges, as king's college, cambridge, with its unrivalled chapel. many charming minor works, such as fountains, wells (fig. 10), crosses, tombs, monuments, and the fittings of the interior of churches, also remain to attest the versatility, the power of design, and the cultivated taste of the architects of the gothic period. [illustration: fig. 10.--well at regensburg. (15th century.)] footnotes: [1] as the north transept at peterborough (fig. 2). [2] at e on the plan of peterborough (fig. 2). [3] see glossary. [illustration: fig. 11.{--sculptured ornament from sens cathedral.}] chapter iii. gothic architecture in great britain. english gothic architecture has been usually subdivided into three periods or stages of advancement, corresponding to those enumerated on page 1; the early stage known as early english, or sometimes as lancet, occupying the thirteenth century and something more; the middle stage, known as decorated, occupying most of the fourteenth century; and the latest stage, known as perpendicular, occupying the fifteenth century and part of the sixteenth. the duration of each of these coincides approximately with the century, the transition from each phase to the next taking place chiefly in the last quarter of the century. adding the periods of the english types of round arched architecture, we obtain the following table:- up to 1066 or up to middle of 11th century, saxon. a.d. 1066 to 1189 or up to end of 12th " norman. a.d. 1189 to 1307 or up to end of 13th " early english. a.d. 1307 to 1377 or up to end of 14th " decorated. a.d. 1377 to 1546 or up to middle of 16th " perpendicular. the term "early english" (short for early english gothic) applied to english thirteenth-century architecture explains itself. the term "lancet" sometimes applied to the early english style, is derived from the shape of the ordinary window-heads, which resemble the point of a lancet in outline (fig. 16). whatever term be adopted, it is necessary to remark that a wide difference exists between the earlier and the late examples of this period. it will suffice for our purposes if, when speaking of the fully-developed style of the late examples, we refer to it as advanced early english. the architecture of the fourteenth century is called "decorated," from the great increase of ornament, especially in window tracery and carved enrichments. the architecture of the fifteenth century is called "perpendicular," from the free use made of perpendicular lines, both in general features and in ornaments, especially in the tracery of the windows and the panelling with which walls are ornamented.[4] the following condensed list, partly from morant,[5] of the most striking peculiarities of each period, may be found useful for reference, and is on that account placed here, notwithstanding that it contains many technical words, for the meaning of which the student must consult the glossary which forms part of this volume. anglo-saxon--(prior to the norman conquest).- rude work and rough material; walls mostly of rubble or ragstone with ashlar at the angles in long and short courses alternately; openings with round or triangular heads, sometimes divided by a rude baluster. piers plain, square, and narrow. windows splayed externally and internally. rude square blocks of stone in place of capitals and bases. mouldings generally semi-cylindrical and coarsely chiselled. corners of buildings square without buttresses. norman. william i. a.d. 1066. william ii. " 1087. henry i. " 1100. stephen " 1135. henry ii. " 1154 to 1189. arches semicircular, occasionally stilted; at first plain, afterwards enriched with chevron or other mouldings; and frequent repetition of same ornament on each stone. piers low and massive, cylindrical, square, polygonal, or composed of clustered shafts, often ornamented with spiral bands and mouldings. windows generally narrow and splayed internally only; sometimes double and divided by a shaft. walls sometimes a series of arcades, a few pierced as windows, the rest left blank. doorways deeply recessed and richly ornamented with bands of mouldings. doors often square headed, but under arches the head of the arch filled with carving. capitals carved in outline, often grotesquely sculptured with devices of animals and leaves. abacus square, lower edge moulded. bases much resembling the classic orders. the mouldings at first imperfectly formed. pedestals of piers square. buttresses plain, with broad faces and small projections. parapets plain with projecting corbel table under. plain mouldings consist of chamfers, round or pointed rolls at edges, divided from plain face by shallow channels. enriched mouldings--the chevrons or zig-zag, the billet square or round, the cable, the lozenge, the chain, nail heads, and others. niches with figures over doorways. roofs of moderately high pitch, and open to the frame; timbers chiefly king-post trusses. towers square and massive--those of late date richly adorned with arcades. openings in towers often beautifully grouped. vaulting waggon-headed, and simple intersecting vaults of semicircular outline. towards the close of the style in reign of henry ii., details of transitional character begin to appear. pointed arch with norman pier. arcades of intersecting semicircular arches. norman abacus blended with early english foliage in capitals. early english. richard i. a.d. 1189 _transition._ john " 1199. henry iii. " 1216. edward i. " 1272 to 1307. general proportions more slender, and height of walls, columns, &c., greater. arches pointed, generally lancet; often richly moulded. triforium arches and arcades open with trefoiled heads. piers slender, composed of a central circular shaft surrounded by several smaller ones, almost or quite detached; generally with horizontal bands. in small buildings plain polygonal and circular piers are used. capitals concave in outline, moulded, or carved with conventional foliage delicately executed and arranged vertically. the abacus always undercut. detached shafts often of purbeck marble. base a deep hollow between two rounds. windows at first long, narrow, and deeply splayed internally, the glass within a few inches of outer face of wall; later in the style less acute, divided by mullions, enriched with cusped circles in the head, often of three or more lights, the centre light being the highest. doorways often deeply recessed and enriched with slender shafts and elaborate mouldings. shafts detached. buttresses about equal in projection to width, with but one set-off, or without any. buttresses at angles always in pairs. mouldings bold and deeply undercut, consisting chiefly of round mouldings sometimes pointed or with a fillett, separated by deep hollows. great depth of moulded surface generally arranged on rectangular planes. hollows of irregular curve sometimes filled with dogtooth ornament or with foliage. roofs of high pitch, timbers plain, and where there is no vault open. early in the style finials were plain bunches of leaves; towards the close beautifully carved finials and crockets with carved foliage of conventional character were introduced. flat surfaces often richly diapered. spires broached. vaulting pointed with diagonal and main ribs only; ridge ribs not introduced till late in the style; bosses at intersection of ribs. decorated. edward ii. a.d. 1307. edward iii. " 1377 to 1379. proportions less lofty than in the previous style. arches mostly inclosing an equilateral angle, the mouldings often continued down the pier. windows large, and divided into two or more lights by mullions. tracery in the head, at first composed geometrical forms, later of flowing character. clerestory windows generally small. diamond shaped piers with shafts engaged. capitals with scroll moulding on under side of abacus, with elegant foliage arranged horizontally. doors frequently without shafts, the arch moulding running down the jambs. rich doorways and windows often surrounded with triangular and ogee-shaped canopies. buttresses in stages variously ornamented. parapet pierced with quatrefoils and flowing tracery. niches panelled and with projecting canopies. spires lofty; the broach rarely used, parapets and angle pinnacles take the place of it. roofs of moderate pitch open to the framing. mouldings bold and finely proportioned, generally in groups, the groups separated from each other by hollows, composed of segments of circles. deep hollows, now generally confined to inner angles. mouldings varying in size and kind, arranged on diagonal as well as rectangular planes, often ornamented with ball flower. foliage chiefly of ivy, oak, and vine leaves; natural, also conventional. rich crockets, finials, and pinnacles. vaulting with intermediate ribs, ridge ribs, and late in the style lierne ribs, and bosses. perpendicular. richard ii. a.d. 1377. (_transition._) henry iv. " 1399. henry v. " 1413. henry vi. " 1422. edward iv. " 1461. edward v. " 1483. richard iii. " 1483. tudor. henry vii. " 1485. henry viii. " 1509 to 1546. arches at first inclosing an equilateral triangle, afterwards obtusely pointed and struck from four centres. piers generally oblong; longitudinal direction north and south. mouldings continued from base through arch. capitals with mouldings large, angular, and few, with abacus and bell imperfectly defined. foliage of conventional character, shallow, and square in outline. bases polygonal. windows where lofty divided into stories by transoms. the mullions often continued perpendicularly into the head. canopies of ogee character enriched with crockets. doors generally with square label over arch, the spandrels filled with ornament. buttresses with bold projection often ending in finials. flying buttresses pierced with tracery. walls profusely ornamented with panelling. parapets embattled and panelled. open timber roofs of moderate pitch, of elaborate construction, often with hammer beams, richly ornamented with moulded timbers, carved figures of angels and with pierced tracery in spandrels. roofs sometimes of very flat pitch. lofty clerestories. mouldings large, coarse, and with wide and shallow hollows and hard wiry edges, meagre in appearance and wanting in minute and delicate detail, generally arranged on diagonal planes. early in the style the mouldings partake of decorated character. in the tudor period depressed four-centered arch prevails; transoms of windows battlemented. tudor flower, rose, portcullis, and fleur-de-lis common ornaments. crockets and pinnacles much projected. roofs of low pitch. vaulting. fan vaulting, with tracery and pendants elaborately carved. other modes of distinguishing the periods of english gothic have been proposed by writers of authority. the division given above is that of rickman, and is generally adopted. a more minute subdivision and a different set of names were proposed by sharpe as follows:- romanesque. saxon a.d. to 1066. norman " 1066 to 1145. gothic. transitional " 1145 to 1190. lancet " 1190 to 1245. geometrical " 1245 to 1315. curvilinear " 1315 to 1360. rectilinear " 1360 to 1550. of the new names proposed by mr. sharpe "transitional" explains itself; and "geometrical, curvilinear, and rectilinear" refer to the characters of the window tracery at the different periods which they denote.[6] * * * * * the history of english gothic proper may be said to begin with the reign of henry ii., coinciding very nearly with the commencement of the period named by mr. sharpe transitional (1145 to 1190), when norman architecture was changing into gothic. this history we propose now to consider somewhat in detail, dividing the buildings in the simplest possible way, namely, into floors, walls, columns, roofs, openings, and ornaments. after this we shall have to consider the mode in which materials were used by the builders of the gothic period, _i.e._ the construction of the buildings; and the general artistic principles which guided their architects, _i.e._ the design of the buildings. * * * * * it may be useful to students in and near london to give sir g. gilbert scott's list of striking london examples[7] of gothic architecture (with the omission of such examples as are more antiquarian than architectural in their interest):- _norman_ (temp. conquest).--the keep and chapel of the tower of london. _advanced norman._--chapel of st. catherine, westminster abbey; st. bartholomew's priory, smithfield. _transitional._--the round part of the temple church. _early english._--eastern part of the temple church; choir and lady chapel of st. mary overy, southwark; chapel of lambeth palace. _advanced early english_ (passing to decorated).--eastern part of westminster abbey generally and its chapter house. _early decorated._--choir of westminster, (but this has been much influenced by the design of the earlier parts adjacent); chapel of st. etheldreda, ely place, holborn. _late decorated._--the three bays of the cloister at westminster opposite the entrance to chapter house; crypt of st. stephen's chapel, westminster; dutch church, austin friars. _early perpendicular._--south and west walks of the cloister, westminster; westminster hall. _advanced perpendicular (tudor period)._--henry vii.'s chapel; double cloister of st. stephen's, westminster. footnotes: [4] the abbreviations, e. e., dec., and perp., will be employed to denote these three periods. [5] _notes on english architecture, costumes, monuments, &c._ _privately printed._ quoted here with the author's permission. [6] see examples in chapter v. and in glossary. [7] address to conference of architects, _builder_, june 24, 1876. [illustration: {sculptured ornament from westminster abbey.}] chapter iv. gothic architecture.--england. analysis of buildings.--floor, walls, towers, gables, columns. _floor, or plan._ the excellences or defects of a building are more due to the shape and size of its floor and, incidentally, of the walls and columns or piers which inclose and subdivide its floor than to anything else whatever. a map of the floor and walls (usually showing also the position of the doors and windows), is known as a plan, but by a pardonable figure of speech the plan of a building is often understood to mean the shape and size and arrangement of its floor and walls themselves, instead of simply the drawing representing them. it is in this sense that the word plan will be used in this volume. the plan of a gothic cathedral has been described, and it has been already remarked that before the gothic period had commenced the dimensions of great churches had been very much increased. the generally received disposition of the parts of a church had indeed been already settled or nearly so. there were consequently few radical alterations in church plans during the gothic period. one, however, took place in england in the abandonment of the apse. at first the apsidal east end, common in the norman times, was retained. for example, it is found at canterbury, where the choir and transept are transitional, having been begun soon after 1174 and completed about 1184; but the eastern end of chichester, which belongs to the same period (the transition), displays the square east end, and this termination was almost invariably preferred in our country after the twelfth century. a great amount of regularity marks the plans of those great churches which had vaulted roofs, as will be readily understood when it is remembered that the vaults were divided into equal and similar compartments, and that the points of support had to be placed with corresponding regularity. where, however, some controlling cause of this nature was not at work much picturesque irregularity prevailed in the planning of english gothic buildings of all periods. the plans of our cathedrals are noted for their great length in proportion to their width, for the considerable length given to the transepts, and for the occurrence in many cases (_e.g._ salisbury, thirteenth century) of a second transept. the principal alterations which took place in plan as time went on originated in the desire to concentrate material as much as possible on points of support, leaving the walls between them thin and the openings wide, and in the use of flying buttresses, the feet of which occupy a considerable space outside the main walls of the church. the plans of piers and columns also underwent the alterations which will be presently described.[8] buildings of a circular shape on plan are very rare, but octagonal ones are not uncommon. the finest chapter-houses attached to our cathedrals are octagons, with a central pier to carry the vaulting. on the whole, play of shape on plan was less cultivated in england than in some continental countries. the plans of domestic buildings are usually simple, but grew more elaborate and extensive as time went on. the cloister with dwelling-rooms and common-rooms entered from its walk, formed the model on which colleges, hospitals, and alms-houses were planned. the castle, already described, was the residence of the wealthy during the earlier part of the gothic period, and when, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, houses which were rather dwellings than fortresses began to be erected, the hall, with a large bay window and a raised floor or dais at one end and a mighty open fire-place, was always the most conspicuous feature in the plan. towards the close of the gothic period the plan of a great dwelling, such as warwick castle (fig. 8), began to show many of the features which distinguish a mansion of the present day. in various parts of the country remains of magnificent gothic dwelling-houses of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries exist, and long before the close of the perpendicular period we had such mansions as penshurst and hever, such palaces as windsor and wells, such castellated dwellings as warwick and haddon, differing in many respects but all agreeing in the possession of a great central hall. buildings for public purposes also often took the form of a great hall. westminster hall may be cited as the finest example of such a structure, not only in england but in europe. the student who desires to obtain anything beyond the most superficial acquaintance with architecture must endeavour to obtain enough familiarity with ground plans, to be able to sketch, measure, and lay down a plan to scale and to _read_ one. the plan shows to the experienced architect the nature, arrangement, and qualities of a building better than any other drawing, and a better memorandum of a building is preserved if a fairly correct sketch of its plan, or of the plan of important parts of it, is preserved than if written notes are alone relied upon. _walls._ the walls of gothic buildings are generally of stone; brick being the exception. they were in the transitional and early english times extremely thick, and became thinner afterwards. all sorts of ornamental masonry were introduced into them, so that diapers,[9] bands, arcades, mouldings, and inlaid patterns are all to be met with occasionally, especially in districts where building materials of varied colours, or easy to work, are plentiful. in the perpendicular period the walls were systematically covered with panelling closely resembling the tracery of the windows (_e.g._, henry vii.'s chapel at westminster). the wall of a building ordinarily requires some kind of base and some kind of top. the base or plinth in english gothic buildings was usually well marked and bold, especially in the perpendicular period, and it is seldom absent. the eaves of the roof in some cases overhang the walls, resting on a simple stone band, called an eaves-course, and constitute the crowning feature. in many instances, however, the eaves are concealed behind a parapet[10] which is often carried on a moulded cornice or on corbels. this, in the e. e. period, was usually very simple. in the dec. it was panelled with ornamental panels, and often made very beautiful. in the perp. it was frequently battlemented as well as panelled. a distinguishing feature of gothic walls is the buttress. it existed, but only in the form of a flat pier of very slight projection in norman, as in almost all romanesque buildings, but in the gothic period it became developed. the buttress, like many of the peculiarities of gothic architecture, originated in the use of stone vaults and the need for strong piers at these points, upon which the thrust and weight of those vaults were concentrated. the use of very large openings, for wide windows full of stained glass also made it increasingly necessary in the dec. and perp. periods to fortify the walls at regular points. a buttress[10] is, in fact, a piece of wall set athwart the main wall, usually projecting considerably at the base and diminished by successive reductions of its mass as it approaches the top, and so placed as to counteract the thrust of some arch or vault inside. it had great artistic value; in the feeble and level light of our northern climate it casts bold shadows and catches bright lights, and so adds greatly to the architectural effect of the exterior. in the e. e. the buttress was simple and ordinarily projected about its own width. in the dec. it obtained much more projection, was constructed with several diminutions (technically called weatherings), and was considerably ornamented. in the perp. it was frequently enriched by panelling. the buttresses in the dec. period are often set diagonally at the corner of a building or tower. in the e. e. period this was never done. the flying buttress[11] is one of the most conspicuous features of the exterior of those gothic buildings which possessed elaborate stone vaults. it was a contrivance for providing an abutment to counterbalance the outward pressure of the vault covering the highest and central parts of the building in cases where that vault rested upon and abutted against walls which themselves were carried by arches, and were virtually internal walls, so that no buttress could be carried up from the ground to steady them. a pier of masonry, sometimes standing alone, sometimes thrown out from the aisle wall opposite the point to be propped, formed the solid part of this buttress; it was carried to the requisite height and a flying arch spanning the whole width of the aisles was thrown across from it to the wall at the point whence the vault sprung. the pier itself was in many cases loaded by an enormous pinnacle, so that its weight might combine with the pressure transmitted along the slope of the flying arch to give a resultant which should fall within the base of the buttress. the back of such an arch was generally used as a water channel. the forest of flying buttresses round many french cathedrals produces an almost bewildering effect, as, for instance, at the east end of notre dame;--our english specimens, at westminster abbey for example, are comparatively simple. _towers._ the gable and the tower are developments of the walls of the building. gothic is _par excellence_ the style of towers. many towers were built detached from all other buildings, but no great gothic building is complete without one main tower and some subordinate ones. in the e. e. style church towers were often crowned by low spires, becoming more lofty as the style advanced. in the dec. style lofty spires were almost universal. in the perp. the tower rarely has a visible roof.[12] the artistic value of towers in giving unity coupled with variety to a group of buildings can hardly be exaggerated. the positions which towers occupy are various. they produce the greatest effect when central, _i.e._ placed over the crossing of the nave and transepts. lichfield, chichester, and salisbury may be referred to as examples of cathedrals with towers in this position and surmounted by spires. canterbury, york, lincoln, and gloucester are specimens of the effectiveness of the tower similarly placed, but without a spire (fig. 12). at wells a fine central octagon occupies the crossing, and is remarkable for the skill with which it is fitted to the nave and aisles internally. next to central towers rank a pair of towers at the western end of the building. these exist at lichfield with their spires; they exist (square-topped) at lincoln, and (though carried up since the gothic period) at westminster.[13] many churches have a single tower in this position (fig. 13). the obvious purpose of a tower, beyond its serviceableness as a feature of the building and as a landmark, is to lift up a belfry high into the air: accordingly, almost without exception, church and cathedral towers are designed with a large upper story, pierced by openings of great size and height called the belfry stage; and the whole artistic treatment of the tower is subordinate to this feature. it is also very often the case that a turret to contain a spiral staircase which may afford the means of access to the upper part of the tower, forms a prominent feature of its whole height, especially in the dec. and perp. periods. [illustration: fig. 12.--lincoln cathedral. (mostly early english.)] in domestic and monastic buildings, low towers were frequently employed with excellent effect. many castles retained the norman keep, or square strong tower, which had served as the nucleus round which other buildings had afterwards clustered; but where during the gothic period a castle was built, or rebuilt, without such a keep, one or more towers, often of great beauty, were always added. examples abound; good ones will be found in the edwardian castles in wales (end of thirteenth century), as for example at conway and caernarvon. _gables._ the gable forms a distinctive gothic feature. the gables crowned those parts of a great church in which the skill of the architect was directed to producing a regular composition, often called a front, or a façade. the west fronts of cathedrals were the most important architectural designs of this sort, and with them we may include the ends of the transepts and the east fronts. the same parts of parish churches are often excellent compositions. the gable of the nave always formed the central feature of the main front. this was flanked by the gables, or half-gables, of the aisles where there were no towers, or by the lower portions of the towers. as a rule the centre and sides of the façade are separated by buttresses, or some other mode of marking a vertical division, and the composition is also divided by bands of mouldings or otherwise, horizontally into storeys. some of the horizontal divisions are often strongly marked, especially in the lower part of the building, where in early examples there is sometimes in addition to the plinth, or base of the wall, an arcade or a band of sculpture running across the entire front (_e.g._ east front of lincoln cathedral). the central gable is always occupied by a large window--or in early buildings a group of windows--sometimes two storeys in height. a great side window usually occurs at the end of each aisle. below these great windows are introduced, at any rate in west fronts, the doorways, which, even in the finest english examples, are comparatively small. the gable also contains as a rule one or more windows often circular which light the space above the vaults. [illustration: fig. 13.--st. pierre, caen, tower and spire. (spire, 1302.)] part of the art in arranging such a composition is to combine and yet contrast its horizontal and vertical elements. the horizontal lines, or features, are those which serve to bind the whole together, and the vertical ones are those which give that upward tendency which is the great charm and peculiar characteristic of gothic architecture. it is essential for the masses of solid masonry and the openings to be properly contrasted and proportioned to each other, and here, as in every part of a building, such ornaments and ornamental features as are introduced must be designed to contribute to the enrichment of the building as a whole, so that no part shall be conspicuous either by inharmonious treatment, undue plainness, or excessive enrichment. [illustration: fig. 14.--house at chester. (16th century.)] during the transition the gable became steeper in pitch than the comparatively moderate slope of norman times. in the e. e. it was acutely pointed, in the dec. the usual slope was that of the two sides of an equilateral triangle: in the perp. it became extremely flat and ceased to be so marked a feature as it had formerly been. in domestic buildings the gable was employed in the most effective manner, and town dwelling-houses were almost invariably built their gable ends to the street (fig. 14). * * * * * a very effective form of wall was frequently made use of in dwelling-houses. this consisted of a sturdy framework of stout timbers exposed to view, with the spaces between them filled in with plaster. of this work, which is known as half-timbered work, many beautiful specimens remain dating from the fifteenth and following centuries (figs. 14 and 15), and a few of earlier date. in those parts of england where tiles are manufactured such framework was often covered by tiles instead of being filled in with plastering. in half-timbered houses, the fire-places and chimneys, and sometimes also the basement storeys, are usually of brickwork or masonry; so are the side walls in the case of houses in streets. it was usual in such buildings to cause the upper storeys to overhang the lower ones. _columns and piers._ the columns and piers of a building virtually form portions of its walls, so far as aiding to support the weight of the roof is concerned, and are appropriately considered in connection with them. in gothic architecture very little use is made of columns on the outside of a building, and the porticoes and external rows of columns proper to the classic styles are quite unknown. on the other hand the series of piers, or columns, from which spring the arches which separate the central avenues of nave, transepts and choir from the aisles, are among the most prominent features in every church. these piers varied in each century.[14] the norman piers had been frequently circular or polygonal, but sometimes nearly square, and usually of enormous mass. thus, at durham (norman), oblong piers of about eleven feet in diameter occur alternately with round ones of about seven feet. in transitional examples columns of more slender proportions were employed either (as in the choir of canterbury) as single shafts or collected into groups. where grouping took place it was intended that each shaft of the group should be seen to support some definite feature of the superincumbent structure, as where a separate group of mouldings springs from each shaft in a doorway, and this principle was very steadily adhered to during the greater part of the gothic period.[14] [illustration: fig. 15.--houses at lisieux, france. (16th century.)] through the e. e. period groups of shafts are generally employed; they are often formed of detached shafts clustering round a central one, and held together at intervals by bands or belts of masonry, and generally the entire group is nearly circular on plan. in the succeeding century (dec. period) the piers also take the form of groups of shafts, but they are generally carved out of one block of stone, and the ordinary arrangement of the pier is on a lozenge-shaped plan. in the perp., the piers retain the same general character, but are slenderer, and the shafts have often shrunk to nothing more than reedy mouldings. the column is often employed in transitional and e. e. churches as a substitute for piers carrying arches. in every period small columns are freely used as ornamental features. they are constantly met with, for example, in the jambs of doorways and of windows. every column is divided naturally into three parts, its base, or foot; its shaft, which forms the main body; and its capital, or head. each of these went through a series of modifications. part of the base usually consisted of a flat stone larger than the diameter of the column, sometimes called a plinth, and upon this stood the moulded base which gradually diminished to the size of the shaft. this plain stone was in e. e. often square, and in that case the corner spaces which were not covered by the mouldings of the base were often occupied by an elegantly carved leaf. in dec. and perp. buildings the lower part of the base was often polygonal, and frequently moulded so as to make it into a pedestal.[15] the proportions of shafts varied extraordinarily; they were, as a rule, extremely slender when their purpose was purely decorative, and comparatively sturdy when they really served to carry a weight. the capital of the column has been perhaps the most conspicuous feature in the architecture of every age and every country, and it is one of the features which a student may make use of as an indication of date and style of buildings, very much as the botanist employs the flower as an index to the genus and species of plants. the capital almost invariably starts from a ring, called the neck of the column. this serves to mark the end of the shaft and the commencement of the capital. above this follows what is commonly called the bell,--the main portion of the capital, which is that part upon which the skill of the carver and the taste of the designer can be most freely expended, and on the top of the bell is placed the abacus, a flat block of stone upon the upper surface of which is built the superstructure or is laid the beam or block which the column has to support. the shape and ornaments given to the abacus are often of considerable importance as indications of the position in architectural history which the building in which it occurs should occupy. the norman capital differed to some extent from the romanesque capitals of other parts of europe. it was commonly of a heavy, strong-looking shape, and is often appropriately called the cushion capital. in its simpler forms the cushion capital is nothing but a cubical block of stone with its lower corners rounded off to make it fit the circular shaft on which it is placed, and with a slab by way of abacus placed upon it. in later norman and transitional work the faces of this block and the edges of the abacus are often richly moulded. by degrees, however, as the transition to e. e. approached, a new sort of capital[16] was introduced, having the outline of the bell hollow instead of convex. the square faces of the norman capital of course disappeared, and the square abacus soon (at least in this country) became circular, involving no small loss of vigour in the appearance of the work. the bell of this capital was often decorated with rich mouldings, and had finely-designed and characteristic foliage, which almost always seemed to grow up the capital, and represented a conventional kind of leaf easily recognised when once seen. in the dec. period the capitals have, as a rule, fewer and less elaborate mouldings; the foliage is often very beautifully carved in imitation of natural leaves, and wreathed round the capital instead of growing up it. in the perp. this feature is in every way less ornate, the mouldings are plainer, and the foliage, often absent, is, when it occurs, conventional and stiff. polygonal capitals are common in this period. [illustration: _later norman capital._] footnotes: [8] for illustrations consult the glossary under _pier_. [9] for illustration consult the glossary. [10] for illustrations consult the glossary. [11] for illustration consult the glossary under _flying buttress_. [12] for remarks on spires, see chap. v. [13] york, lichfield, and lincoln, are the cathedrals distinguished by the possession of three towers. [14] for illustrations consult the glossary under _pier_. [15] for illustrations consult the glossary under _base_. [16] for illustrations consult the glossary. [illustration: {sculptured ornament from westminster abbey.}] chapter v. gothic architecture.--england. analysis of buildings (_continued_)--openings, roofs, spires, ornaments, stained glass, sculpture. _openings and arches._ the openings (_i.e._ doors and windows) in the walls of english gothic buildings are occasionally covered by flat heads or lintels, but this is exceptional; ordinarily they have arched heads. the shape of the arch varies at all periods. architects always felt themselves free to adopt any shape which best met the requirements of any special case; but at each period there was one shape of arch which it was customary to use. in the first transitional period (end of twelfth century) semicircular and pointed arches are both met with, and are often both employed in the same part of the same building. the mouldings and enrichments which are common in norman work are usually still in use. in the e. e. period the doorways are almost invariably rather acutely pointed, the arched heads are enriched by a large mass of rich mouldings, and the jambs[17] have usually a series of small columns, each of which is intended to carry a portion of the entire group of mouldings. large doorways are often subdivided into two, and frequently approached by porches. a most beautiful example occurs in the splendid west entrance to ely cathedral. other examples will be found at lichfield (fig. 1) and salisbury. it was not uncommon to cover doorways with a lintel, the whole being under an archway; this left a space above the head of the door which was occupied by carving often of great beauty. ornamental gables are often formed over the entrances of churches, and are richly sculptured; but though beautiful, these features rarely attained magnificence. the most remarkable entrance to an english cathedral is the west portal of peterborough--a composition of lofty and richly moulded arches built in front of the original west wall. a portal on a smaller scale, but added in the same manner adorns the west front of wells. as a less exceptional example we may refer to the entrance to westminster abbey at the end of the north transept (now under restoration), which must have been a noble example of an e. e. portal when in its perfect state. [illustration: fig. 16.--lancet window. (12th century.)] the windows in this style were almost always long, narrow, and with a pointed head resembling the blade of a lancet (fig. 16). the glass is generally near the outside face of the wall, and the sides of the opening are splayed towards the inside. it was very customary to place these lancet windows in groups. the best known group is the celebrated one of "the five sisters," five lofty single lights, occupying the eastern end of one of the transepts of york minster. a common arrangement in designing such a group was to make the central light the highest, and to graduate the height of the others. it after a time became customary to render the opening more ornamental by adding pointed projections called cusps. by these the shape of the head of the opening was turned into a form resembling a trefoil leaf. sometimes two cusps were added on each side. the head is, in the former case, said to be trefoiled--in the latter, cinqfoiled. [illustration: fig. 17.--two-light window. (13th century.)] [illustration: fig. 18.--geometrical tracery. (14th century.)] when two windows were placed close together it began to be customary to include them under one outer arch, and after a time to pierce the solid head between them with a circle, which frequently was cusped, forming often a quatrefoil (fig. 17). this completed the idea of a group, and was rapidly followed by ornamental treatment. three, four, five, or more windows (which in such a position are often termed lights) were often placed under one arch, the head of which was filled by a more or less rich group of circles; mouldings were added, and thus rose the system of decoration for window-heads known as tracery. so long as the tracery preserves the simple character of piercings through a flat stone, filling the space between the window heads, it is known as plate tracery. the thinning down of the blank space to a comparatively narrow surface went on, and by and by the use of mouldings caused that plain surface to resemble bars of stone bent into a circular form: this was called bar tracery, and it is in this form that tracery is chiefly employed in england (fig. 18). westminster abbey is full of exquisite examples of e. e. window-tracery (temp. henry iii.); as, for example, in the windows of the choir, the great circular windows (technically termed rose-windows) at the ends of the transepts, the windows of the chapter-house. last, but not least, the splendid arcade which forms the triforium is filled with tracery similar in every respect to the best window tracery of the period (fig. 19). [illustration: fig. 19.--the triforium arcade, westminster abbey. (1269.)] in the decorated style of the fourteenth century tracery was developed till it reached a great pitch of perfection and intricacy. in the earlier half of the century none save regular geometrical forms, made up of circles and segments of circles, occur; in other words, the whole design of the most elaborate window could be drawn with the compasses, and a curve of contrary flexure rarely occurred. in the latest half of that period flowing lines are introduced into the tracery, and very much alter its character (fig. 20). the cusping throughout is bolder than in the e. e. period. [illustration: fig. 20.--rose window from the transept of lincoln cathedral. (1342-1347.)] in perpendicular windows spaces of enormous size are occupied by the mullions and tracery. horizontal bars, called transoms, are now for the first time introduced, and the upright bars or mullions form with them a kind of stone grating; but below each transom a series of small stone arches forms heads to the lights below that transom, and a minor mullion often springs from the head of each of these arches, so that as the window increases in height, the number of its lights increases. the character of the cusping changed again, the cusps becoming club-headed in their form (fig. 21). [illustration: fig. 21.--perpendicular window.] arches in the great arcades of churches, or in the smaller arcades of cloisters, or used as decorations to the surface of the walls, were made acute, obtuse, or segmental, to suit the duty they had to perform; but when there was nothing to dictate any special shape, the arch of the e. e. period was by preference acute[18] and of lofty proportions, and that of the dec. less lofty, and its head equilateral (_i.e._ described so that if the ends of the base of an equilateral triangle touch the two points from which it springs, the apex of the angle shall touch the point of the arch). in the perp. period the four centred depressed arch, sometimes called the tudor arch, was introduced, and though it did not entirely supersede the equilateral arch, yet its employment became at last all but universal, and it is one of the especially characteristic features of the tudor period. _roofs and vaults._ the external and the internal covering of a building are very often not the same; the outer covering is then usually called a roof--the other, a vault or ceiling. in not a few gothic buildings, however, they were the same; such buildings had what are known as open roofs--_i.e._ roofs in which the whole of the timber framing of which they are constructed is open to view from the interior right up to the tiles or lead. very few open roofs of e. e. character are now remaining, but a good many parish churches retain roofs of the dec., and more of the perp. period. the roof of westminster hall (perp., erected 1397) shows how fine an architectural object such a roof may become. the roof of the hall of eltham palace (fig. 22) is another good example. wooden ceilings, often very rich, are not uncommon, especially in the churches of norfolk and suffolk, but greater interest attaches to the stone vaults with which the majority of gothic buildings were erected, than to any other description of covering to the interiors of buildings. the vault was a feature rarely absent from important churches, and the structural requirements of the gothic vault were among the most influential of the elements which determined both the plan and the section of a mediæval church. there was a regular growth in gothic vaults. those of the thirteenth century are comparatively simple; those of the fourteenth are much richer and more elaborate, and often involve very great structural difficulties. those of the fifteenth are more systematic, and consequently more simple in principle than the ones which preceded them, but are such marvels of workmanship, and so enriched by an infinity of parts, that they astonish the beholder, and it appears, till the secret is known, impossible to imagine how they can be made to stand. [illustration: fig. 22.--roof of hall at eltham palace. (15th century.)] it has been held by some very good authorities that the pointed arch was first introduced into gothic architecture to solve difficulties which presented themselves in the vaulting. in all probability the desire to give to everything, arches included, a more lofty appearance and more slender proportions may have had as much to do with the adoption of the pointed arch as any structural considerations, but there can be no doubt that it was used for structural arches from the very first, even when window heads and wall arcades were semicircular, and that the introduction of it cleared the way for the use of stone vaults of large span to a wonderful extent. it is not easy to explain this without being more technical than is perhaps desirable in the present volume, but the subject is one of too much importance for it to be possible to avoid making the attempt. churches, it will be recollected, were commonly built with a wide nave and narrower aisles, and it was in the norman period customary to vault the aisles and cover the nave with a ceiling. there was no difficulty in so spacing the distances apart of the piers of the main arcade that the compartments (usually termed bays) of the aisle should be square on plan; and it was quite possible, without doing more than the romans had done, to vault each bay of the aisles with a semicircular intersecting vault (_i.e._ one which has the appearance of a semicircular or waggon-head vault, intersected by another vault of the same outline and height). this produced a simple series of what are called groined or cross vaults, which allowed height to be given to the window heads of the aisle and to the arcades between the aisles and nave. after a time it was desired to vault the nave also, and to adopt for it an intersecting vault, so that the heads of the windows of the clerestory might be raised above the springing line of the vault, but so long as the arches remained semicircular, this was very difficult to accomplish. the romans would probably have contented themselves with employing a barrel vault and piercing it to the extent required by short lateral vaults, but the result would have been an irregular, weak, curved line at each intersection with the main vault; and the aisle vaults having made the pleasing effect of a perfectly regular intersection familiar, this expedient does not seem to have found favour, at any rate in england. other expedients were however tried, and with curious results. it was for example attempted to vault the nave with a cross vault, embracing two bays of the arcade to one of the vault, but the wall space so gained was particularly ill suited to the clerestory windows, as may be seen by examining the nave of st. stephen's at caen. in short, if the vaulting compartment were as wide as the nave one way, but only as wide as the aisle the other way, and semicircular arches alone were employed, a satisfactory result seemed to be unattainable. in the search for some means of so vaulting a bay of oblong plan that the arches should spring all at one level, and the groins or lines of intersection should cross one another in the centre of the ceiling, the idea either arose or was suggested that the curve of the smaller span should be a pointed instead of a semicircular arch. the moment this was tried all difficulty vanished, and groined (_i.e._ intersecting) vaults, covering compartments of any proportions became easy to design and simple to construct, for if the vault which spanned the narrow way of the compartment were acutely pointed, and that which spanned it the wide way were either semicircular or flatly-pointed, it became easy to arrange that the startings of both vaults should be at the same level, and that they should rise to the same height, which is the condition essential to the production of a satisfactory intersection. scott enumerates not fewer than fourteen varieties of mediæval vaults[19] and points out that specimens of thirteen are to be found at westminster. without such minute detail we may select some well-known varieties:--(1) the plain waggon-head vault, as at the chapel of the tower; (2) in advanced norman works, cross-vaults formed by two intersecting semicircular vaults, the diagonal line being called a groin. (3) the earliest transitional and e. e. vaults, pointed and with transverse and diagonal ribs, and bosses at the intersection of ribs, _e.g._, in the aisles and the early part of the cloisters at westminster. (4) in the advanced part of the e. e. period, the addition of a rib at the ridge, as seen in the presbytery and transepts at westminster. (5) at the time of the transition to dec. (_temp._ ed. 1.) additional ribs began to be introduced between the diagonal and the transverse ribs. (6) as the dec. period advanced other ribs, called _liernes_, were introduced, running in various directions over the surface of the vault, making star-like figures on the vault. (7) the vault of the early perp., which is similar to the last, but more complicated and approaching no. 8, _e.g._, abbot islip's chapel. (8) lastly, the distinctive vault of the advanced or tudor perp., is the fan-tracery vault of which henry vii.'s chapel roof is the climax. the vaulting surfaces in these are portions of hollow conoids, and are covered by a net-work of fine ribs, connected together by bands of cusping (fig. 23). [illustration: fig. 23.--henry vii.'s chapel. (1503-1512.)] in scott's enumeration the vaults of octagons and irregular compartments, and such varieties as the one called sexpartite, find a place; here they have been intentionally excluded. many of them are works of the greatest skill and beauty, especially the vaults of octagonal chapter houses springing from one centre pier (_e.g._, chapter houses at worcester, westminster, wells, and salisbury). externally, the roofs of buildings became very steep in the thirteenth century; they were not quite so steep in the fourteenth, and in the fifteenth they were frequently almost flat. they were always relied upon to add to the effectiveness of a building, and were enriched sometimes by variegated tiles or other covering, sometimes by the introduction of small windows, known as dormer windows, each with its own gablet and its little roof, and sometimes by the addition of a steep sided roof in the shape of a lantern or a "flèche" on the ridge, or a pyramidal covering to some projecting octagon or turret. all these have their value in breaking up the sky-line of the building, and adding interest and beauty to it. still more striking, however, in its effect on the sky-line was the spire, a feature to which great attention was paid in english architecture. _spires._ the early square towers of romanesque churches were sometimes surmounted by pyramidal roofs of low pitch. we have probably none now remaining, but we have some examples of large pinnacles, crowned with pyramids, which show what the shape must have been. they were square in plan and somewhat steep in slope. the spire was developed early in the e. e. period. it was octagonal in plan, and the four sides which coincided with the faces of the tower rose direct from the walls above a slightly masked eaves course. the four oblique sides are connected to the tower by a feature called a broach, which may be described as part of a blunt pyramid. the broach-spire (fig. 24) is to be met with in many parts of england, but especially in northamptonshire. the chief ornaments of an e. e. spire consist in small windows (called spire-lights or lucarnes) each surmounted by its gablet. [illustration: fig. 24.--early english spire. church of st. mary magdalene, warboys, lincolnshire.] in the dec. period it was common to finish the tower by a parapet, and to start the spire behind the parapet, sometimes with a broach, often without. pinnacles were frequently added at the corners of the tower, and an arch, like that of a flying buttress, was sometimes thrown across from the pinnacle to the spire. spire-lights occur as before, and the surface of the spire is often enriched by bands of ornament at intervals. the general proportions of the spire were more slender than before, and the rib, which generally ran up each angle, was often enriched by crockets, _i.e._ tufts of leaves arranged in a formal shape (fig. 25). [illustration: fig. 25.--decorated spire. all saints' church, oakham, rutlandshire.] towers were frequently intended to stand without spires in the perp. period, and are often finished by four effective angle-pinnacles and a cornice with battlements. where spires occur in this period they resemble those of the dec. period. spires end usually in a boss or finial, surmounted by a weathercock. ordinary roofs were usually finished by ornamental cresting, and their summits were marked by finials,[20] frequently of exquisite workmanship. _ornaments._ we now come to ornaments, including mouldings, carving, and colour, and here we are landed upon a mass of details which it would be impossible to pursue far. mouldings play a prominent part in gothic architecture, and from the first to the last they varied so constantly that their profiles and grouping may be constantly made use of as a kind of architectural calendar, to point out the time, to within a few years, when the building in which they occur was erected. a moulding is the architect's means of drawing a line on his building. if he desires to mark on the exterior the position of an internal floor, or in any other way to suggest a division into storeys, a moulded string-course is introduced. if he wishes to add richness and play of light and shade to the sides of an important arch, he introduces a series of mouldings, the profile of which has been designed to form lights and shadows such as will answer his purpose. if again he desires to throw out a projection and to give the idea of its being properly supported, he places under his projection a corbel of mouldings which are of strong as well as pleasing form, so as to convey to the eye the notion of support. mouldings, it can be understood, differ in both size and profile, according to the purpose which they are required to serve, the distance from the spectator at which they are fixed, and the material out of which they are formed. in the gothic periods they also differed according to the date at which they were executed. [illustration: fig. 26.--early arch in receding planes.] [illustration: fig. 27.--arch in receding planes moulded.] the first step towards the gothic system of mouldings was taken by the romanesque architects when the idea of building arches in thick walls, not only one within the others, but also in planes receding back from the face of the wall one behind as well as within another, was formed and carried out, and when a corresponding recessed arrangement of the jamb of the arch was made (fig. 26). the next step was the addition of some simple moulding to the advancing angle of each rim of such a series of arches either forming a bead (fig. 27) or a chamfer. in the transitional part of the twelfth century and the e. e. period this process went on till at last, though the separate receding arches still continued to exist, the mouldings[21] into which they were cut became so numerous and elaborate as to render it often difficult to detect the subordination or division into distinct planes which really remained. [illustration: fig. 28.--doorway, king's college chapel, cambridge. (15th century.)] this passion for elaborate mouldings, often extraordinarily undercut, reached its climax in the thirteenth century, the e. e. period. in the dec. period, while almost everything else became more elaborate, mouldings grew more simple, yet hardly less beautiful. in the perp. period they were not only further simplified, but often impoverished, being usually shallow, formal, and stiff.[22] ornaments abounded, and included not only enrichments in the shape of carved foliage and figures, statuary, mosaics, and so forth, but ornamental features, such as canopies, pinnacles, arcades, and recesses (fig. 28). in each period these are distinct in design from all that went before or came after, and thus to catch the spirit of any one gothic period aright, it is not enough to fix the general shapes of the arches and proportions of the piers but every feature, every moulding, and every ornament must be wrought in the true spirit of the work, or the result will be marred. _stained glass._ ornamental materials and every sort of decorative art, such as mosaic, enamel, metal work and inlays, were freely employed to add beauty in appropriate positions; but there was one ornament, the crowning invention of the gothic artists, which largely influenced the design of the finest buildings, and which reflected a glory on them such as nothing else can approach: this was stained glass. so much of the old glass has perished, and so little modern glass is even passable, that this praise may seem overcharged to those who have never seen any of the best specimens still left. we have in the choir at canterbury a remnant of the finest sort of glass which england possesses. some good fragments remain at westminster, though not very many; but to judge of the effect of glass at its best, the student should visit la sainte chapelle at paris, or the cathedrals of chartres, le mans, bourges, or rheims, and he will find in these buildings effects in colour which are nothing less than gorgeous in their brilliancy, richness, and harmony. [illustration: fig. 29.--stained glass window from chartres cathedral.] the peculiar excellence of stained glass as compared with every other sort of decoration, is that it is luminous. to some extent fresco-painting may claim a sort of brightness; mosaic when executed in polished materials possesses brilliancy; but in stained glass the light which comes streaming in through the window itself gives radiance, while the quality of the glass determines the colour, and thus we obtain a glowing, lustre of colour which can only be compared to the beauty of gems. in order properly to fill their place as decorations, stained-glass windows must be something quite different from transparent pictures, and the scenes they represent must not detach themselves too violently from the general ground. the most perfect effect is produced by such windows as those at canterbury or chartres (fig. 29), which recall a cluster of jewels rather than a picture. _coloured decoration._ colour was also freely introduced by the lavish employment of coloured materials where they were to be had, and by painting the interiors with bright pigments. we meet with traces of rich colour on many parts of ancient buildings, where we should hardly dare to put it now, and we cannot doubt that painted decoration was constantly made use of with the happiest effect. _sculpture._ [illustration: fig. 30.--sculpture from the entrance to the chapter house, westminster abbey. (1250.)] the last, perhaps the noblest ornament, is sculpture. the gothic architects were alive to its value, and in all their best works statues abounded; often conventional to the last degree; sometimes to our eyes uncouth, but always the best which those who carved them could do at the time; always sure to contribute to architectural effect; never without a picturesque power, sometimes rising to grace and even grandeur, and sometimes sinking to grotesque ugliness. whatever the quality of the sculpture was, it was always there, and added life to the whole. monsters gaped and grinned from the water-spouts, little figures or strange animals twisted in and out of the foliage at angles and bosses and corbels. stately effigies occupied dignified niches, in places of honour; and in the mouldings and tympanum of the head of a doorway there was often carved a whole host of figures representing heaven, earth, and hell, with a rude force and a native eloquence that have not lost their power to the present day. in the positions where modest ornamentation was required, as for example the capitals of shafts, the hollows of groups of mouldings, and the bosses of vaulting, carving of the most finished execution and masterly design constantly occurs. speaking roughly, this was chiefly conventional in the e. e. period, chiefly natural in the dec. and mixed, but with perhaps a preference for the conventional in the perp. examples abound, but both for beauty and accessibility we can refer to no better example than the carving which enriches the entrance to the chapter house of westminster abbey (fig. 30). [illustration: _miserere seat from wells cathedral._] footnotes: [17] for illustrations consult the glossary under _jamb_. [18] for illustrations consult the glossary under _arch_. [19] address to the conference of architects. reported in the _builder_ of 24th june, 1876. outlines illustrating some of these varieties of vault will be found in the glossary under _vault_. [20] see glossary. [21] for illustrations consult the glossary. [22] for further illustrations see the glossary. [illustration: {stained glass from chartres cathedral.}] chapter vi. gothic architecture in western europe. france.--chronological sketch. the architecture of france during the middle ages throws much light upon the history of the country. the features in which it differs from the work done in england at the same period can, many of them, be directly traced to differences in the social, political, or religious situation of the two nations at the time. for example, we find england in the eleventh and twelfth centuries in the hands of the normans, a newly-conquered country under uniform administration; and accordingly few local variations occur in the architecture of our norman period. the twelfth-century work, at durham or peterborough for instance, differs but little from that at gloucester or winchester. in france the case is different. that country was divided into a series of semi-independent provinces, whose inhabitants differed, not only in the leaders whom they followed, but in speech, race, and customs. as might be expected, the buildings of each province presented an aspect different in many respects from those of every other; and we may as well add that these peculiarities did not die out with the end of the round-arched period of architecture, but lingered far into the pointed period. [illustration: fig. 31.--church at fontevrault. (begun 1125.)] the south of france was occupied by people speaking what are now known as the romance dialects, and some writers have adopted the name as descriptive of the peculiarities of the architecture of these districts. the romance provinces clung tenaciously to their early forms of art, so that pointed architecture was not established in the south of france till half a century, and in some places nearly a whole century, later than in the north. on the other hand, the frankish part of the country was the cradle of gothic. the transition from round to pointed architecture first took place in the royal domain, of which paris was the centre, and it may be assumed that the new style was already existing when in 1140 abbot suger laid the foundations of the choir of the church of st. denis, about forty years before the commencement of the eastern arm of our own canterbury. de caumont, who in his "abécédaire" did for french architecture somewhat the same work of analysis and scientific arrangement which rickman performed for english, has adopted the following classification:- { primitive. } 5th to 10th { _primordiale._ } century. { } { second. } end of 10th to romanesque architecture. { _secondaire._ } commencement of _architecture romane._ { } 12th century. { } { third or transition } { _tertiaire ou de_ } 12th century. { _transition._ } { first. } { _primitive._ } 13th century. { } pointed architecture. { second. } _architecture ogivale._ { _secondaire._ } 14th century. { } { third. } { _tertiaire._ } 15th century. [illustration: fig. 32.--doorway at loches, france. (1180.)] the transitional architecture of france is no exception to the rule that the art of a period of change is full of interest. much of it has disappeared, but examples remain in the eastern part of the cathedral of st. denis already referred to, in portions of the cathedrals of noyon and sens, the west front of chartres, the church of st. germain des prés at paris, and elsewhere. we here often find the pointed arch employed for the most important parts of the structure, while the round arch is still retained in the window and door-heads, and in decorative arcades, as shown in our illustrations of a section of the church at fontevrault (fig. 31), and of a doorway at loches (fig. 32). the first pointed architecture of the thirteenth century in france differs considerably from the early english of this country. the arches are usually less acute, and the windows not so tall in proportion to their width. the mouldings employed are few and simple compared with the many and intricate english ones. large round columns are much used in place of our complicated groups of small shafts for the piers of the nave; and the abacus of the capital remains square. an air of breadth and dignity prevails in the buildings of this date to which the simple details, noble proportions, and great size largely contribute. the western front of notre dame, paris (fig. 33), dates from the early years of this century, the interior being much of it a little earlier. the well-known cathedrals of chartres, rheims, laon, and later in the style, amiens, and beauvais, may be taken as grand examples of french first pointed. to these may be added the very graceful sainte chapelle of paris, the choir and part of the nave of the cathedral at rouen, the church of st. etienne at caen, and the cathedrals of coutances, lisieux, le mans, and bourges. this list of churches could be almost indefinitely extended, and many monastic buildings, and not a few domestic and military ones, might be added. among the most conspicuous of these may be named the monastic fortress at mont st. michel, probably the most picturesque structure in france, the remarkable fortifications of carcassonne, and the lordly castle of couçy. [illustration: fig. 33.--notre dame, paris, west front. (1214.)] the second pointed, or fourteenth century gothic of france, bears more resemblance to contemporary english gothic than the work of the centuries preceding or following. large windows for stained glass, with rich geometrical tracery prevailed, and much the same sort of ornamental treatment as in england was adopted in richly decorated buildings. specimens of the work of this century occur everywhere in the shape of additions to the great churches and cathedrals which had been left unfinished from the previous century, and also of side chapels which it became customary to add to the aisles of churches. the great and well-known abbey of st. ouen at rouen is one of the few first-class churches which can be named as begun and almost entirely completed in this century. the tower and spire of the church of st. pierre at caen (fig. 13) are very well-known and beautiful specimens of this period. french fifteenth century architecture, or third pointed, is far from being so dignified or so scientific as english perpendicular, and differs from it considerably. exuberant richness in decoration was the rage, and shows itself both in sculpture, tracery, and general design. much of the later work of this period has received the name of flamboyant, because of the flame-like shapes into which the tracery of the heads of windows was thrown. in flamboyant buildings we often meet with art which, though certainly over-florid, is brilliant, rich, and full of true feeling for decoration. in this century, secular and domestic buildings attained more prominence than at any previous periods. some of them are among the best works which this period produced. familiar examples will be found in the noble palais de justice at rouen, and the hôtel de bourgtherould in the same city; in parts of the great château at blois, the splendid château of pierrefonds, and the hôtels de ville of oudenarde and caen. france.--analysis of buildings. _plan._ [illustration: fig. 34.--plan of amiens cathedral. (1220-1272.)] the plans of french cathedrals and other buildings conform in general to the description of gothic plans given in chapter ii., but they have of course certain distinctive peculiarities (fig. 34). the cathedrals are as a rule much broader in proportion to their length than english ones. double aisles frequently occur, and not infrequently an added range of side chapels fringes each of the main side walls, so that the interior of one of these vast buildings presents, in addition to the main vista along the nave, many delightful cross views of great extent. the transepts are also much less strongly marked than our english examples. there are even some great cathedrals (_e.g._, bourges) without transepts; and where they exist it is common to find that, as in the case of notre dame de paris, they do not project beyond the line of the side walls, so that, although fairly well-marked in the exterior and interior of the building, they add nothing to its floor-space. the eastern end of a french cathedral (and indeed of french churches generally, with very few exceptions) is terminated in an apse. when, as is frequently the case, this apse is encircled by a ring of chapels, with flying buttresses on several stages rising from among them, the whole arrangement is called a _chevet_, and very striking and busy is the appearance which it presents. _walls, towers, and gables._ the walls are rarely built of any other material than stone, and much splendid masonry is to be found in france. low towers are often to be met with, and so are projecting staircase turrets of polygonal or circular forms. the façades of cathedrals, including ends of transepts as well as west fronts, are most striking, and often magnificently enriched. it is an interesting study to examine a series of these fronts, each a little more advanced than the last, as for example notre dame (fig. 33), the transept at rouen, amiens (fig. 35), and rheims, and to note how the horizontal bands and other level features grow less and less conspicuous, while the vertical ones are more and more strongly marked; showing an increasing desire, not only to make the buildings lofty, but to suppress everything which might interfere with their looking as high as possible. [illustration: fig. 35.--amiens cathedral, west front. (1220-1272.)] _columns and piers._ the column is a greater favourite than the pier in france, as has already been said. sometimes, where the supports of the main arcade are really piers, they are built like circular shafts of large size; and even when they have no capital (as was the case in third-pointed examples), these piers still retain much of the air of solid strength which belongs to the column, and which the french architects appear to have valued highly. in cases where a series of mouldings has to be carried--as for example when the main arcade of a building is richly moulded--english architects would usually have provided a distinct shaft for each little group (or as willis named them order), into which the whole can be subdivided. in france, at any rate during the earlier periods, the whole series of mouldings would spring from the square unbroken abacus of a single large column, to which perhaps one shaft, or as in our illustration (fig. 36) four shafts, would be attached which would be carried up to the springing of the nave vault, at which point the same treatment would be repeated, though on a smaller scale, with the moulded ribs of that vault. [illustration: fig. 36.--piers and superstructure, rheims cathedral. (1211-1240.) _i._ springing of main ribs of the vault. _h._ string-course below the clerestory. _a b._ triforium arcade. _g._ string-course below the triform. b. main arcade separating the nave from the aisles. a and n. shafts attached to pier and supporting portions of the superstructure.] a peculiarity of some districts of southern france is the suppression of the external buttress; the buttresses are in fact built within the church walls instead of outside, and masonry enough is added to make each into a separating wall which divides side chapels. some large churches, _e.g._, the cathedral at alby, in southern france, consist of a wide nave buttressed in this way, and having side chapels between the buttresses, but without side aisles. the plans of the secular, military, and domestic buildings of france also present many interesting peculiarities, but not such as it is possible to review within the narrow limits of this chapter. _roofs and vaults._ the peculiarly english feature of an open roof is hardly ever met with in any shape: yet though stone vaults are almost universal, they are rarely equal in scientific skill to the best of those in our own country. in transitional examples, many very singular instances of the expedients employed before the pointed vault was fully developed can be found. in some of the central and southern districts, domes, or at least domical vaults, were employed. (see the section of fontevrault, fig. 31). the dome came in from byzantium. it was introduced in perigord, where the very curious and remarkable church of st. front (begun early in the eleventh century) was built. this is to all intents a byzantine church. it is an almost exact copy in plan and construction of st. mark's at venice, a church designed and built by eastern architects, and it is roofed by a series of domes, a peculiarity which is as distinctive of byzantine (_i.e._, eastern early christian), as the vaulted roof is of romanesque (or western early christian) architecture. artists from constantinople itself probably visited france, and from this centre a not inconsiderable influence extended itself in various directions, and led to the use of many byzantine features both of design and ornament. as features in the exterior of their buildings, the roofs have been in every period valued by the french architects; they are almost always steep, striking, and ornamented. all appropriate modes of giving prominence and adding ornament to a roof have been very fully developed in french gothic architecture, and the roofs of semicircular and circular apses, staircase towers, &c., may be almost looked upon as typical.[23] _openings._ the treatment of openings gives occasion for one of the most strongly marked points of contrast between french and english gothic architecture. with us the great windows are unquestionably the prominent features, but with the french the doors are most elaborated. this result is reached not so much by any lowering of the quality of the treatment bestowed upon the windows, but by the greatly increased importance given to doorways. the great portals of notre dame at paris (fig. 33), rheims, or amiens (fig. 35), and the grand porches of chartres may be named as the finest examples, and are probably the most magnificent single features which gothic art produced in any age or any country; but in its degree the western portal of every great church is usually an object upon which the best resources of the architect have been freely lavished. the wall is built very thick so that enormous jambs, carrying a vast moulded arch, can be employed. the head of the door is filled with sculpture, which is also lavishly used in the sides and arch, and over the whole rises an ornamental gable, frequently profusely adorned with tracery and sculpture, its sides being richly decorated by crockets or similar ornaments, and crowned by a sculptured terminal or finial. the windows in the earliest periods are simpler than in our e. e., as well as of less slender proportions. in the second and third periods they are full of rich tracery, and are made lofty and wide to receive the magnificent stained glass with which it was intended to fill them, and which many churches retain. circular windows, sometimes called wheel-windows, often occupy the gables, and are many of them very fine compositions. _mouldings and ornaments._ the mouldings of the french first pointed are usually larger than our own. compared with ours they are also fewer, simpler, and designed to produce more breadth of effect. this may partly result from their originating in a sunshiny country where effects of shade are easily obtained. in the second and third periods they more nearly resemble those in use in england at the corresponding times. the carving is very characteristic and very beautiful. in the transition and first pointed a cluster of stalks, ending in a tuft of foliage or flowers, is constantly employed, especially in capitals. the use of this in england is rare; and, on the other hand, foliage like e. e. conventional foliage is rare in france. in the second pointed, natural foliage is admirably rendered (fig. 37). in the third a somewhat conventional kind of foliage, very luxuriant in its apparent growth, is constantly met with. this carving is at every stage accompanied by figure-sculpture of the finest character. heads of animals, statues, groups of figures, and has reliefs are freely employed, but always with the greatest judgment, so that their introduction adds richness to the very point in the whole composition where it is most needed. in every part of france, and in every period of gothic architecture, good specimens of sculpture abound. easily accessible illustrations will be found in the west entrance and south transept front of rouen cathedral, the porches and portals at chartres, the choir inclosure of notre dame at paris, and the richly sculptured inclosure of the choir of amiens cathedral. [illustration: fig. 37.--capital from st. nicholas, blois, france. (13th century.)] stained glass has been more than once referred to. it is to be found in its greatest perfection in france, as for example in la sainte chapelle at paris, and the cathedrals of le mans, bourges, chartres, and rheims. all that has been said in the introductory chapter on this, the crowning ornament of gothic architecture, and on its influence upon window design, and through that, upon the whole structure of the best churches, is to the full as applicable to french examples. coloured decoration was also frequently employed in the interior of churches and other buildings, and is constantly to be met with in french buildings, both secular and religious. in most cases, however, it is less easy to appreciate this than the stained glass, for, as it is now to be seen, the colours are either faded and darkened by time and smoke, or else restored, not always with the exactness that could be desired. _construction and design._ the construction of the great buildings of the middle ages in france is an interesting subject of study, but necessarily a thoroughly technical one. great sagacity in designing the masonry, carpentry, joinery, and metal-work; and trained skill in the carrying out the designs, have left their traces everywhere; and while the construction of the earlier castles and of the simple churches shows a solidity but little inferior to that of the romans themselves, the most elaborate works, such for example as the choir at beauvais (fig. 38), can hardly be surpassed as specimens of skill and daring, careful forethought, and bold execution. [illustration: fig. 38.--beauvais cathedral, interior. (1225-1537.)] design, in france, pursued the general principles of gothic architecture to their logical conclusions with the most uncompromising consistency. perhaps the most distinctive peculiarity in french cathedrals is a love of abstract beauty, and a strong preference for breadth, regularity, dignity, and symmetry wherever they come into competition with picturesqueness and irregular grouping. there is, it is true, plenty of the picturesque element in french mediæval art; but if we take the finest buildings, and those in which the greatest effort would be made to secure the qualities which were considered the greatest and most desirable, we shall find very strong evidences of a conviction that beauty was to be attained by regularity and order, rather than by unsymmetrical and irregular treatment. belgium and the netherlands. belgium is a country rich in remains of gothic architecture. its art was influenced so largely by its neighbourhood to france, that it will not be necessary to attempt anything like a chronological arrangement of its buildings. fine churches exist in its principal cities, but they cannot be said to form a series differing widely from the churches of france, with which they were contemporary, and where they differ the advantage is generally on the side of the french originals. the principal cathedral of the low countries, that at antwerp, is a building remarkable for its great width (having seven aisles), and for the wonderful picturesqueness of its interior. the exterior, which is unfinished, is also very effective, with its one lofty spire. the other cathedrals of note include those of tournay, brussels, mechlin, louvain, liége, and ghent. belgium also possesses a great number of large parochial churches. when we turn to secular buildings we find the belgian architecture of the middle ages taking a leading position. the free cities of belgium acquired municipal privileges at an early date, and accumulated great wealth. accordingly we find town halls, trade halls, belfries, warehouses, and excellent private dwelling-houses in abundance. the cloth hall at ypres has been repeatedly illustrated and referred to as an example of a grand and effective building for trade purposes; it is of thirteenth-century architecture and of great size, its centre marked by a massive lofty tower; and its angles carrying slight turrets; but in other respects it depends for its effectiveness solely on its repetition of similar features. examples of the same kind of architecture exist at louvain and ghent. the town halls of brussels, louvain, bruges, mechlin, ghent, oudenarde, and ypres, are all buildings claiming attention. they were most of them in progress during the fifteenth century, and are fine, but florid examples of late gothic. some one or two at least of the town halls were begun and partly carried out in the fourteenth century; on the other hand, the hôtel de ville at oudenarde, was begun as late as the beginning of the sixteenth; so were the exchange at antwerp (destroyed by fire and rebuilt not long since) and some other well-known structures: their architecture, though certainly gothic, is debased in style. the general aspect of these famous buildings was noble and bold in mass, and rich in ornament. our illustration (fig. 39) shows the town hall of middleburgh in holland; one which is less famous and of smaller dimensions than those enumerated above, but equally characteristic. the main building usually consisted of a long unbroken block surmounted by a high-pitched roof, and usually occupied one side of a public place. the side of the building presents several storeys, filled by rows of fine windows, though in some cases the lowest storey is occupied by an open arcade. the steep roof, usually crowded with dormer windows, carries up the eye to a lofty ridge, and from the centre of it rises the lofty tower which forms so conspicuous a feature in most of these buildings. in the town hall at bruges the tower is comparatively simple, though of a mass and height that are truly imposing; but in brussels, ypres, and other examples, it is a richly ornamented composition on which every resource of the mason and the carver has been lavished. our illustration (fig. 40) shows the well-known tower at ghent. [illustration: fig. 39.--the town hall of middleburgh. (1518.)] [illustration: fig. 40.--tower at ghent. (begun 1183.)] the gable ends of the great roof are often adorned by pinnacles and other ornaments; but they rarely come prominently into view, as it is invariably the long side of the building which is considered to be the principal front. scotland, wales, and ireland. in scotland good but simple examples of early work (transition from romanesque to e. e.) occur, as for example, at jedburgh and kelso, dryburgh and leuchars abbey churches. a very interesting and in many respects unique cathedral of the thirteenth century, with later additions, exists at glasgow. it is a building of much beauty, with good tracery, and the crypt offers a perfect study of various and often graceful modes of forming groined vaults. the cathedral of elgin (thirteenth century), an admirable edwardian building, now in ruins, and the abbey at melrose, also ruined, of fourteenth century architecture (begun 1322), are both excellent specimens of the art of the periods to which they belong, and bear a close resemblance to what was being done in england at the same time. the famous tower of st. giles's cathedral, edinburgh, and the chapel at roslyn, of the fifteenth century, on the other hand, are of thoroughly un-english character, resembling in this respect much of the scotch architecture of the succeeding centuries; roslyn is ascribed by mr. fergusson to a spanish or portuguese architect, with great probability. other abbey churches and remains of architectural work exist at dumblane, arbroath, dunkeld, and in many other localities; and holyrood palace, still retains part of its elegant early fourteenth-century chapel. of secular and domestic work linlithgow is a fair specimen, but of late date. most of the castles and castellated mansions of scotland belong indeed to a later time than the gothic period, though there is a strong infusion of gothic feeling in the very picturesque style in which they are designed. * * * * * wales is distinguished for the splendid series of castles to which allusion has been made in a previous chapter. they were erected at the best time of english gothic architecture (edward i.) under english direction, and are finely designed and solidly built. wales can also boast the interesting cathedrals of chester, llandaff, st. david's, and some smaller churches, but in every case there is little to distinguish them from contemporary english work. * * * * * ireland is more remarkable for antiquities of a date anterior to the beginning of the gothic period than for works belonging to it. a certain amount of graceful and simple domestic work, however, exists there; and in addition to the cathedrals of kildare, cashel, and dublin, numerous monastic buildings, not as a rule large or ambitious, but often graceful and picturesque, are scattered about. [illustration: _miserere seat in wells cathedral._] footnotes: [23] for an example of these see the house of jaques coeur (fig. 7). [illustration: {sculptured ornament from westminster abbey.}] chapter vii. gothic architecture in central and northern europe. germany.--chronological sketch. the architecture of germany, from the twelfth to the sixteenth centuries, can be divided into an early, a middle, and a late period, with tolerable distinctness. of these, the early period possesses the greatest interest, and the peculiarities of its buildings are the most marked and most beautiful. in the middle period, german gothic bore a very close general resemblance to the gothic of the same time in france; and, as a rule, such points of difference as exist are not in favour of the german work. late gothic work in germany is very fantastic and unattractive. [illustration: fig. 41.--abbey church of arnstein. (12th and 13th centuries.)] through the twelfth, and part of the thirteenth centuries, the architects of germany pursued a course parallel with that followed in france and in england, but without adopting the pointed arch. they developed the simple and rude romanesque architecture which prevailed throughout europe in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and which they learnt originally from byzantine artists who fled from their own country during the reign of the iconoclasts; and they not only carried it to a point of elaboration which was abreast of the art of our best norman architecture, but went on further in the same course; for while the french and ourselves were adopting lancet windows and pointed arches, they continued to employ the round-headed window and the semicircular arch in buildings which in their size, richness, loftiness, and general style, correspond with early gothic examples in other countries. this early german architecture has been sometimes called fully developed romanesque, and sometimes round-arched gothic, and both terms may be applied to it without impropriety, for it partakes of the qualities implied by each. the church of the holy apostles at cologne, and those of st. martin and st. maria in capitolo, in the same city, may be referred to as among the best works of this class. each of these has an eastern apse, and also an apsidal termination to each transept. the apostles' church has a low octagon at the crossing, and its sky-line is further broken up by western and eastern towers, the latter of comparatively small size and octagonal; and under the eaves of the roof occurs an arcade of small arches. a view of the abbey church of arnstein (fig. 41) illustrates some of the features of these transitional churches. it will be noticed that though there is no transept, there are no less than four towers, two octagonal, and two square, and that the apse is a strongly developed feature. in the church at andernach, of which we give an illustration (fig. 42), the same arrangement, namely, that of four towers, two to the west, and two to the east, may be noticed; but there is not the same degree of difference between the towers, and the result is less happy. this example, like the last, has no central feature, and in both the arcade under the eaves of the roof is conspicuous only by its absence. it does, however, occur on the western towers at andernach. [illustration: fig. 42.--church at andernach. (early 13th century.)] the pointed arch, when adopted in germany, was in all probability borrowed from france, as the general aspect of german churches of pointed architecture seems to prove. the greatest gothic cathedral of germany, cologne cathedral, was not commenced till about the year 1275, and its choir was probably completed during the first quarter of the fourteenth century. this cathedral, one of the largest in europe, is also one of the grandest efforts of mediæval architecture, and it closely resembles french examples of the same period, both in its general treatment, and in the detail of its features. the plan of cologne cathedral (fig. 46) is one of the most regular and symmetrical which has come down to us from the middle ages. the works were carried on slowly after the choir was consecrated, but without any deviation from the original plan, though some alteration in style and details crept in. in our own day the works have been resumed and vigorously pushed on towards completion; and, the original drawings having been preserved, the two western towers, the front, and other portions have been carried on in accordance with them. cologne, accordingly, presents the almost unique spectacle of a great gothic church, erected without deviation from its original plan, and completed in the style in which it was begun. it is fair to add that though splendid in the extreme, this cathedral has far less charm, and less of that peculiar quality of mystery and vitality than many, we might say most, of the great cathedrals of europe. the plan consists of a nave of eight bays, two of which form a kind of vestibule, and five avenues, _i.e._ two aisles on each side; transepts of four bays each, with single aisles; and a choir of four bays and an apse, the double aisle of the nave being continued and carried down the choir. that part of the outer aisle which sweeps round the apse has been formed into a series of seven polygonal chapels, thus gaining a complete _chevet_.[24] over the crossing there is a comparatively slender spire, and at the west end stand two massive towers terminated by a pair of lofty and elaborate spires, of open tracery, and enriched by crockets, finials, and much ornamentation. the cathedral is built of stone, without much variation in colour; it is vaulted throughout, and a forest of flying buttresses surrounds it on all sides. the beauty of the tracery, the magnificent boldness of the scale of the whole building, and its orderly regularity, are very imposing, and give it a high rank among the greatest works of european architecture; but it is almost too majestic to be lovely, and somewhat cold and uninteresting from its uniform colour, and perhaps from its great regularity. strasburg cathedral--not so large as cologne--has been built at various times; the nave and west front are the work of the best gothic period. this building has a nave and single aisles, short transepts, and a short apsidal choir. there is great richness in much of the work; double tracery, _i.e._ a second layer, so to speak, of tracery, is here employed in the windows, and extended beyond them, but the effect is not happy. the front was designed to receive two open tracery spires, but only one of them has been erected. it is amazingly intricate and rich, the workmanship is very astonishing, but the artistic effect is not half so good as that of many plain stone spires. another important german church famous for an open spire is the cathedral at friburg. here only one tower, standing at the middle of the west front, was ever intended, and partly because the composition is complete as proposed, and partly because the design of the tracery in the spire itself is more telling, this building forms a more effective object than strasburg, though by no means so lofty or so grandiose. [illustration: fig. 43.--church of st. barbara at kuttenberg. east end. (1358-1548.)] the cathedral of st. stephen at vienna is a large and exceedingly rich church. in this building the side aisles are carried to almost the same height as the centre avenue--an arrangement not infrequent in german churches having little save novelty to recommend it, and by which the triforium, and, as a rule, the clerestory disappear, and the church is lighted solely by large side windows. the three avenues are covered by one wide roof, which makes a vast and rather clumsy display externally. a lofty tower, surmounted by a fine and elaborate spire of open tracery, stands on one side of the church--an unusual position--and an unfinished companion tower is begun on the corresponding side. great churches and cathedrals are to be found in many of the cities of germany, but their salient points are, as a rule, similar to those of the examples which have been already described. the incomplete church of st. barbara at kuttenberg, in bohemia, is one of somewhat exceptional design. it has double aisles, but the side walls for the greater part of the length of the church rest upon the arcade dividing the two aisles, instead of that separating the centre avenue from the side one; and a vault over the inner side aisle forms in effect a kind of balcony or gallery in the nave. the illustration (fig. 43) which we give of the exterior does not of course indicate this peculiarity, but it shows a very good example of a german adaptation of the french _chevet_, and may be considered as a specimen of german pointed architecture at its ripest stage. the church is vaulted, as might be inferred from the forest of flying buttresses; and the vaulting displays some resemblance to our english fan-vaulting in general idea. german churches include some specimens of unusual disposition or form, as for example the church of st. gereon at cologne, with an oval choir, and one or two double churches, one of the most curious being the one at schwartz-rheindorff, of which we give a section and view. (figs. 44, 45.) in their doorways and porches the german architects are often very happy. our illustration (fig. 47) of one of the portals of the church at thann may be taken as giving a good idea of the amount of rich ornament often concentrated here: it displays a wealth of decorative sculpture, which was one of the great merits of the german architects. [illustration: fig. 44.--double church at schwartz-rheindorff. section. (1158.)] the latest development of gothic in germany, of which the church of st. catherine at oppenheim (fig. 48) is a specimen, was marked (just as late french was by flamboyant tracery, and late english by fan-vaulting) by a peculiarity in the treatment of mouldings by which they were robbed of almost all their grace and beauty, while the execution of them became a kind of masonic puzzle. two or more groups of mouldings were supposed to coexist in the same stone, and sometimes a part of one group, sometimes a part of the other group, became visible at the surface. the name given to this eccentric development is interpenetration. [illustration: fig. 45.--double church at schwartz-rheindorff. (a.d. 1158.)] secular architecture in germany, though not carried to such a pitch of perfection as in belgium, was by no means overlooked; but the examples are not numerous. in some of the older cities, such as prague, nuremberg, and frankfort, much picturesque domestic architecture abounds, most of it of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and even later, and all full of piquancy and beauty. in north germany, where there is a large tract of country in which building stone is scarce, a style of brick architecture was developed, which was applied to all sorts of purposes with great success. the most remarkable of these brick buildings are the large dwelling-houses, with façades ornamented by brick tracery and panelling, to be found in eastern prussia, together with some town halls and similar buildings. germany.--analysis of buildings. _plan._ the points of difference between german and french gothic are not so numerous as to render a very minute analysis of the gothic of germany requisite in order to make them clear. the plans of german churches usually show internal piers; and columns occur but rarely. the churches have nave and aisles, transepts and apsidal choir; but they are peculiar from the frequent use of apses at the ends of the transepts, and also from the occurrence, in not a few instances, of an apse at the west end of the nave as well as at the east end of the choir. they are almost invariably vaulted. as the style advanced, large churches were constantly planned with double aisles, and the western apse disappeared. some german church plans, notably those of cologne cathedral (fig. 46) and the great church of st. lawrence at nuremberg, are fine specimens of regularity of disposition, though full of many parts. [illustration: fig. 46.--cologne cathedral. ground plan. (begun 1248.)] _walls, towers, and gables._ the german architects delighted in towers with pointed roofs, and in a multiplicity of them. a highly characteristic feature is a tower of great mass, but often extremely low, covering the crossing. the cathedral at mayence shows a fine example of this feature, which was often not more than a low octagon. western towers, square on plan, are common, and small towers, frequently octagonal, are often employed to flank the choir or in combination with the transepts. these in early examples, are always surmounted by high roofs; in late ones, by stone spires, often of rich open tracery. a very characteristic feature of the round arched gothic churches is an arcade of small arches immediately below the eaves of the roof and opening into the space above the vaults (fig. 45). this is rarely wanting in churches built previous to the time when the french type was followed implicitly. the gables are seldom such fine compositions as in france, or even in italy; but in domestic and secular buildings many striking gabled fronts occur, the gable being often stepped in outline and full of windows. _roofs and vaults._ vaults are universal in the great churches, and german vaulting has some special peculiarities, but they are such as hardly come within the scope of this hand-book. roofs, however, are so conspicuous that in any general account of german architecture attention must be paid to them. they were from very early times steep in pitch and picturesque in outline, and are evidently much relied upon as giving play to the sky-line. indeed, for variety of form and piquancy of detail the german roofs are the most successful of the middle ages. the spires, as will have been easily gathered from the descriptions of those at strasburg, cologne, &c., became extremely elaborate, and were constructed in many cases entirely of open tracery. [illustration: fig. 47.--western doorway of church at thann. (14th century.)] [illustration: fig. 48.--church of st. catherine at oppenheim. (1262 to 1439.)] _openings._ openings are, on the whole, treated very much as the french treated them. a good example is the western doorway at thann (fig. 47); but the use of double tracery in the windows in late examples is characteristic. sometimes a partial screen of outside tracery is employed in other features besides windows, as may be seen by the very elegant doorway of st. sebald's church at nuremberg, which we have illustrated (fig. 49). _ornaments._ the ornaments of german gothic are often profuse, but rarely quite happy. sculpture, often of a high class, carving of every sort, tracery, and panelling, are largely employed; but with a hardness and a tendency to cover all surfaces with a profusion of weak imitations of tracery that disfigures much of the masonry. the tracery became towards the latter part of the time intricate and unmeaning, and the interpenetrating mouldings already described, though of course intended to be ornamental, are more perplexing and confusing than pleasing: the carving exaggerates the natural markings of the foliage represented, and being thin, and very boldly undercut, resembles leaves beaten out in metal, rather than foliage happily and easily imitated in stone, which is what good architectural carving should be. the use of coloured building materials and of inlays and mosaics does not prevail to any great extent in germany, though stained glass is often to be found and coloured wall decoration occasionally. [illustration: fig. 49.--st. sebald's church at nuremberg. the bride's doorway. (1303-1377.)] _construction and design._ the marked peculiarities of construction by which the german gothic buildings are most distinguished, are the prevalent high-pitched roofs, the vaulting with aisle vaults carried to the same height as in the centre, and the employment in certain districts of brick to the exclusion of stone, all of which have been already referred to. in a great part of that large portion of europe, which is included under the name of germany, the materials and modes of construction adopted during the middle ages, bear a close resemblance to those in general use in france and england. some of the characteristics of german gothic design have been already alluded to. the german architects display an exuberant fancy, a great love of the picturesque, and even the grotesque, and a strong predilection for creating artificial difficulties in order to enjoy the pleasure of surmounting them. their work is full of unrest; they attach small value to the artistic quality of breadth, and destroy the value of the plain surfaces of their buildings as contrasts to the openings, by cutting them up by mouldings and enrichments of various sorts. the sculpture introduced is, as a rule, naturalistic rather than conventional. the capitals of piers and columns are often fine specimens of effective carving, while the delicate and ornamental details of the tabernacle work with which church furniture is enriched, are unsurpassed in elaboration, and often of rare beauty. the churches of nuremberg are specially distinguished for the richness and number of their sculptured fittings. there is, moreover, in some of the best german buildings a rugged grandeur which approaches the sublime; and in the humbler ones a large amount of picturesque and thoroughly successful architecture. in the smaller objects upon which the art of the architect was often employed the germans were frequently happy. public fountains, such for example as the one illustrated in chapter ii. (fig. 10), are to be met within the streets of many towns, and rarely fail to please by their simple, graceful, and often quaint design. crosses, monuments, and individual features in domestic buildings, such _e.g._ as bay windows, frequently show a very skilful and picturesque treatment and happy enrichment. northern europe. gothic architecture closely resembling german work may be found in switzerland, norway and sweden, and denmark; but there are few very conspicuous buildings, and not enough variety to form a distinct style. in norway and sweden curious and picturesque buildings exist, erected solely of timber, and both there and in switzerland many of the traditions of the gothic period have been handed down to our own day with comparatively little change, in the pleasing and often highly enriched timber buildings which are to be met with in considerable numbers in those countries. footnotes: [24] see p. 77 for an explanation of _chevet._ [illustration: {sculptured ornament from sens cathedral.}] chapter viii. gothic architecture in southern europe. italy and sicily.--topographical sketch. gothic architecture in italy may be considered as a foreign importation. the italians, it is true, displayed their natural taste and artistic instinct in their use of the style, and a large number of their works possess, as we shall see, strongly-marked characteristics and much charm; but it is impossible to avoid the feeling that the architects were working in a style not thoroughly congenial to their instincts nor to the traditions they had inherited from classical times; and not entirely in harmony with the requirements of the climate and the nature of their building materials. italian gothic may be conveniently considered geographically, dividing the buildings into three groups, the first and most important containing the architecture of northern italy (lombardy, venetia, and the neighbourhood), the second that of central italy (tuscany, &c.), the third that of the south and of sicily--a classification which will suit the subject better than the chronological arrangement which has been our guide in examining the art of other countries; for the variations occasioned by development as time went on are less strongly marked in italy than elsewhere. _northern italy._ lombardy in the romanesque period was thoroughly under german influence, and the buildings remaining to us from the eleventh and twelfth centuries bear a close resemblance to those erected north of the alps at the same date. the twelfth century lombard churches again are specimens of round-arched gothic, just as truly as those on the banks of the rhine. many of them are also peculiar as being erected chiefly in brickwork; the great alluvial plain of lombardy being deficient in building-stone. st. michele at pavia, a well-known church of this date, may be cited as a good example. this is a vaulted church, with an apsidal east end and transepts. the round arch is employed in this building, but the general proportions and treatment are essentially gothic. a striking campanile (bell tower) belongs to the church, and is a good specimen of a feature very frequently met with in lombardy; the tower here (and usually) is square, and rises by successive stages, but with only few and small openings or ornaments, to a considerable height. there are no buttresses, no diminution of bulk, no staircase turrets. at the summit is an open belfry-stage, with large semicircular-headed arches, crowned by a cornice and a low-pitched conical roof.[25] in the same city a good example of an italian gothic church, erected after the pointed arch had been introduced, may be found in the church of sta. maria del carmine. the west front of this church is but clumsy in general design. its width is divided into five compartments by flat buttresses. the gables are crowned by a deep and heavy cornice of moulded brick and the openings are grouped with but little skill. individually, however, the features of this front are very beautiful, and the great wheel-window, full of tracery, and the two-light windows flanking it, may be quoted as remarkable specimens of the ornamental elaboration which can be accomplished in brickwork. the campanile of this church, like the one just described, is a plain square tower. it rises by successive stages, each taller than the last, each stage being marked by a rich brick cornice. the belfry-stage has on each face a three-light window, with a traceried head, and above the cornice the square tower is finished by a tall conical roof, circular on plan, an arrangement not unfrequently met with. the certosa, the great carthusian church and monastery near pavia,[26] best known by the elaborate marble front added in a different style about a century after the erection of the main building, is a good example of a highly-enriched church, with dependencies, built in brickwork, and possessing most of the distinctive peculiarities of a great gothic church, except the general use of the pointed arch. it was begun in 1396, and is consistent in its exterior architecture, the front excepted, though it took a long time to build. attached to it are two cloisters, of which the arches are semicircular, and the enrichments, of wonderful beauty, are modelled in terra-cotta. this church resembles the great german round-arched gothic churches on the rhine in many of its features. its plan includes a nave, with aisles and side chapels, transepts and a choir. the eastern arm and the transepts are each ornamented by an apse, somewhat smaller than would be met with in a german church; but as a compensation each of these three arms has two side apses, as well as the one at the end. the exterior possesses the german arcade of little arches immediately under the eaves of the roof; it is marked by the same multiplicity of small towers, each with its own steep roof; and it possesses the same striking central feature, internally a small dome, externally a kind of light pyramidal structure, ornamented by small arcades rising tier above tier, and ending in a central pointed roof. the finest gothic cathedral in north italy, if dimensions, general effectiveness, and beauty of material be the test, is that of milan. this building is disfigured by a west front in a totally inappropriate style, but apart from this it is virtually a german church of the first class, erected entirely in white marble, and covered with a profusion of decoration. its dimensions show that, with the exception of seville, this was the largest of all the gothic cathedrals of europe. it has double aisles, transepts, and a polygonal apse. at the crossing of the nave and transepts a low dome rises, covered by a conical roof, and surmounted by an elegant marble spire. the structure is vaulted throughout, and each of the great piers which carry the nave arcade is surmounted by a mass of niches and tabernacle work, occupied by statues--a splendid substitute for ordinary capitals. the interior effect of milan cathedral is grand and full of beauty. the exterior, though much of its power is destroyed by the weakly-designed ornament with which all the surfaces of the walls are covered, is endowed with a wonderful charm. this building was commenced in the year 1385, and consecrated in the year 1418. the details of the window-tracery, pinnacles, &c. (but not the statues which are of italian character), correspond very closely to those of german buildings erected at the same period (close of the fourteenth century). milan possesses, among other examples of pointed architecture, one secular building, the great hospital, well known for its gothic façade. this hospital was founded in 1456, and most of it is of later date and of renaissance character; the street front of two storeys in height, with pointed arches, is very rich. the church of chiaravalle, near milan, which has been more than once illustrated and described, ought not to be passed unnoticed, on account of the beauty of its fully developed central dome. it was built in the early part of the thirteenth century (1221). almost all the great cities of north italy possess striking gothic buildings. genoa, for instance, can boast of her cathedral, with a front in alternate courses of black and white marble, dating from about the year 1300, and full of beauty; the details bearing much resemblance to the best western gothic work. passing eastward, verona possesses a wealth of gothic work in the well-known tombs of the scaligers, the churches of sta. anastasia, san zenone, and several minor churches and campaniles; and at como, bergamo, vicenza, padua, treviso, cremona, bologna, and many other cities and towns, good churches of pointed architecture are to be found. our illustration (fig. 50) of the ancient palace of the jurisconsults at cremona, is a good specimen of the secular architecture of north italy. originally the lower storey was a loggia, or open arcaded storey, but the arches have been built up. telling, simple, and graceful, this building owes its effect chiefly to its well-designed openings and a characteristic brick cornice. it is entirely without buttresses, has no spreading base, no gables, and no visible roof: some of these features would have been present had it been designed and erected north of the alps. [illustration: fig. 50.--the palace of the jurisconsults at cremona.] venice is the city in the whole of north italy where gothic architecture has had freest scope and has achieved the greatest success, not, however, in ecclesiastical, but in secular buildings. the great cathedral of st. mark, perhaps the most wonderful church in europe, certainly the foremost in italy, is a byzantine building, and though it has received some additions in gothic times, does not fairly come within the scope of this volume; and the gothic churches of venice are not very numerous nor, with the exception of the fine brick church of the frari, extremely remarkable. on the banks of the grand canal and its tributaries, however, stand not a few gothic palaces of noble design (see fig. 9, p. 18), while the ducal palace itself alone is sufficient to confer a reputation upon the city which it adorns. the ducal palace at venice is a large rectangular block of buildings erected round a vast quadrangle. of its exterior two sides only are visible from a distance, one being the sea front looking over the lagoon, and the other the land front directed towards the piazzetta. rather less than one half the height of each front is occupied by two storeys of arcades; the lower storey bold, simple, and vigorous; the upper storey lighter, and ending in a mass of bold tracery. above this open work, and resting upon it, rises the external wall of the palace, faced with marble in alternate slabs of rose-colour and white, pierced by a few large pointed windows and crowned by an open parapet. few buildings are so familiar, even to untravelled persons, as this fine work, which owes its great charm to the extent, beauty, and mingled solidity and grace of its arcades, and to the fine sculpture by which the capitals from which they spring are enriched. the gothic palaces are almost invariably remarkable for the skill with which the openings in their fronts are arranged and designed. it was not necessary to render any other part of the exterior specially architectural, as the palaces stand side by side like houses in a modern street, as can be seen from our illustration (fig. 9). in almost all cases a large proportion of the openings are grouped together in the centre of the front, and the sides are left comparatively plain and strong-looking, the composition presenting a centre and two wings. by this simple expedient each portion of the composition is made to add emphasis to the other, and a powerful but not inharmonious contrast between the open centre and the solid sides is called into existence. the earliest gothic buildings in point of date are often the most delicate and graceful, and this rule holds good in the gothic palaces of venice; yet one of the later palaces, the ca' d'oro, must be at least named on account of the splendid richness of its marble front--of which, however, only the centre and one wing is built--and the beauty of the ornament lavishly employed upon it. the balconies, angle windows, and other minor features with which the venetian gothic palaces abound, are among the most graceful features of the architecture of italy. _central italy._ those towns of central italy (by which is meant tuscany and the former states of the church), in which the best gothic buildings are to be found, are pisa, lucca, florence, siena, orvieto, and perugia. as a general rule the gothic work in this district is more developed and more lavishly enriched than that in lombardy. in pisa, the cathedral and the campanile (the famous leaning tower) belong to the late romanesque style, but the baptistry, an elegant circular building, has a good deal of gothic ornament in its upper storeys, and may be fairly classed as a transitional building. the most charming and thoroughly characteristic work of gothic architecture in pisa is, however, a small gem of a chapel, the church of sta. maria della spina. it displays exquisite ornament, and, notwithstanding much false construction, the beauty of its details, of its sculpture, and of the marble of which it is built, invest it with a great charm. pisan gothic is remarkable as being associated with the name of a family of highly gifted sculptors and architects, the pisani, of whom nicola pisano was the earliest and greatest artist; he was followed by his descendants giovanni, nino, and andrea. with the pisani and giotto the series of the known names of architects of great buildings may be said to begin. florence, the most important of the cities we have named, is distinguished by a cathedral built in the early part of the fourteenth century, and one of the grandest in italy. it has very few columns, and its walls and vaults are of great height. the walls are adorned externally with inlays in coloured marble, and the windows have stained glass--a rarity in italy; but its lofty dome, added after the completion of the rest of the building, is its chief feature. this was always intended, but the pointed octagonal dome actually erected by brunelleschi, between the years 1420 and 1444, though it harmonises fairly well with the general lines of the building, and forms, as can be seen from our illustration (fig. 51), a striking object in all distant views of the city, is probably very different from what was originally intended. near the cathedral stand the baptistry, famous for the possession of the finest gates in the world, and the campanile of giotto. this tower is built, or at least faced, entirely with marble; and when it is stated that its height is not far short of that of the victoria tower of our houses of parliament, though of slenderer proportions, it will be seen that it is magnificently liberal in its general scheme. the tower is covered with panels of variously coloured marbles from base to summit, and enriched by fine sculpture. the angles are strengthened by slightly projecting piers. the windows are comparatively small till the highest or belfry stage is reached, and here each face of the tower is pierced by a magnificent three-light window. a deep and elaborate cornice now crowns the whole, but it was originally designed to add a high-pitched roof or a spire as a terminal. [illustration: fig. 51.--the cathedral at florence. with giotto's campanile. (begun, 1298; dome, 1420-1444; campanile begun, 1324.)] our illustration (fig. 52) shows the west front and campanile of the cathedral at siena, an exceedingly good specimen of the beauties and peculiarities of the style. this building was commenced in 1243. the plan is simple but singular, for the central feature is a six-sided dome, at the crossing of the nave and transepts; and some ingenuity has been spent in fitting this figure to the arches of the main avenues of the building. the interior is rich and effective; the exterior, as can be seen by the illustration, is covered with ornament, and the front is the richest and probably the best designed of all the cathedral fronts of central italy. the strongly-marked horizontal lines of cornices, arcades, &c., the moulded gables, the great wheel-window set in a square panel, and the use of marble of various colours, are all points to note. so is the employment of the semicircular arch for the doorways of this thoroughly gothic building. the campanile is a good example of that feature, except that instead of the rich window which usually occupies the belfry stage, or highest storey, two storeys of small lights have been formed. the introduction of angle turrets is not very usual, and it here supplies a deficiency which makes itself felt in other campaniles, where the junction of tower and spire is not always happy. [illustration: fig. 52.--cathedral at siena. west front and campanile. (façade begun 1284.)] gothic churches of importance can be found in many of the cities and towns of central italy. none are more remarkable than the singular double church of st. francis at assisi, with its wealth of mural paintings and stained glass, and the cathedral at orvieto (fig. 53) with its splendid front. in rome, so rich in specimens of the architecture of many styles and times, gothic could find no footing; the one solitary church which can be claimed as gothic may be taken as an exception. and south of the capital there lies a considerable tract of country, containing few if any examples of the style we are considering. _southern italy._ southern italy is conveniently grouped with sicily, but the mainland is deficient in examples of gothic buildings. the old towns of apulia indeed, such as bari, bitonto and brindisi, possess an architecture which the few who have had an opportunity of examining, declare to be surpassingly rich in its decoration, but it is for the most part romanesque. the gothic work remaining in and about naples is most of it extremely florid, and often rich, but seldom possesses the grace and charm of that which exists further north. sicily shows the picturesquely mixed results of a complication of agencies which have not affected the mainland, and is accordingly an interesting field for architectural study. the island was first under byzantine influence; was next occupied and held by the saracens; and was later seized and for some time retained by the normans. [illustration: fig. 53.--the cathedral at orvieto. (begun 1290; façade, 1310.)] the most striking early gothic building in sicily is the richly adorned cathedral of monreale, commenced in the twelfth century. here very simple pointed arches are made use of, as the entire surface of the interior is covered with mosaic pictures of norman origin. the small capella palatina in palermo itself is of the same simple and early architectural character, and adorned with equally magnificent mosaics. in these buildings the splendour of the colouring is only equalled by the vigorous and often pathetic power with which the stories of sacred history are embodied in these mosaics. the cathedral of cefalu is a building bearing a general resemblance to that at monreale, but not enriched in the same manner. of the fourteenth century are the richly ornamented cathedral of palermo and that of messina. the latter has been so much altered as to have lost a good deal of its interest; but at palermo there is much that is striking and almost unique. this building has little in common with the works of northern or central italy, and not much more alliance with the gothic of north europe. it is richly panelled and decorated, but its most striking feature is its bold arcaded portal. analysis of buildings. _plan._ the plans of italian churches are simple, compared with those of the northern and western architects. as a rule they are also moderate in size, and they bear a close resemblance to those of the early basilica churches from which they are directly descended. though the apse is all but universal, the french _chevet_, with its crown of clustering chapels, was not adopted in italy. there is very much in common between the churches of lombardy and those of germany, but the german western apse and the apsidal ends to the transept do not occur. the spaces between the piers of the main arcade are greater than in french or english examples, so that there are fewer piers, and the vaults are of wider span. in the churches founded by the great preaching orders, the division into nave and aisle does not take place, and the church consists of nothing but a large hall for the congregation, with a chancel for the choir. in monastic, secular, and domestic building a general squareness and simplicity of plan prevails, and where an internal arcaded quadrangle can be made use of (_e.g._ in the cloister of a monastery), it is almost always relied upon to add effect. the famous external arcade at the ducal palace, venice, was nowhere repeated, though simpler external arcades occur frequently; but it is so splendid as to form, itself alone a feature in italian planning. the arrangements of the mansions and palaces found in the great cities were a good deal influenced by the circumstance that it was customary, in order to secure as much cool air as possible, to devote one of the upper floors to the purpose of a suite of reception rooms; to this was given the name of _piano nobile_. _walls, towers, columns._ walls are usually thick and stand unbuttressed, and rarely have such slopes and diminutions of apparent thickness towards their upper part as are not uncommon in england. base mouldings are not universal. the cornice, on the other hand, is far more cared for, and is made much more conspicuous than with us. in the brick buildings especially it attains great development. above the cornice a kind of ornamental parapet, bearing some resemblance to battlements, is common. the strikingly peculiar use of materials of different colours in alternate courses, or in panels, to decorate the wall surfaces, has already been referred to. it is very characteristic of the style. the campanile or bell-tower of an italian church is a feature very different from western towers. it is never placed over the crossing of nave and aisles and rarely forms an essential part of the church, often being quite detached and not seldom placed at an angle with the walls of the main building. such towers are not unfrequently appended to palaces, and are sometimes (_e.g._ at venice) erected alone. some of the italian cities were also remarkable for strong towers erected in the city itself as fortresses by the heads of influential families. many of these are still standing in bologna. the smaller towers in which northern architects took so much delight are almost unknown in italy, though on a few of the great churches of the north (_e.g._ the certosa at pavia, and st. antonio at padua) they are to be found. the use of constructive columns is general; piers are by no means unknown, but fine shafts of marble meet the eye frequently in italian churches. the constant use of the column for decorative purposes is a marked characteristic. not only is it employed where french and english architects used it, as in the jambs of doorways, but it constantly replaces the mullion in traceried windows. it is employed as an ornament at the angles of buildings to take off the harshness of a sharp corner, and it is introduced in many unexpected and often picturesque situations. twisted, knotted, and otherwise carved and ornamental shafts are not unfrequently made use of in columns that serve purely decorative purposes. _openings and arches._ the constructive arches in italian gothic buildings are, as a rule, pointed, but it is remarkable that at every period round and pointed arches are indiscriminately employed for doors and windows, both being constantly met with in the same building. the naves of italian churches rarely show the division into three, common in the north. the triforium is almost invariably absent, and the clerestory is often reduced to a series of small round windows, sufficient to admit the moderate light which, in a very bright climate, is grateful in the interior of such a building as a church; but they are far less effective features than our own well-marked clerestory windows. [illustration: fig. 54.--ogival window-head.] the doorways are often very beautiful, and are frequently sheltered by projecting porches of extreme elegance and lightness. the window openings are, as a rule, cusped. an ogee-shaped arch (fig. 54) is constantly in use in window-heads, especially at venice, and much graceful design is lavished on the arched openings of domestic and secular buildings. a great deal of the tracery employed is plate tracery.[27] the tracery in terra-cotta has already been referred to. in the large windows of the principal apartments and other similar positions of the palaces in venice and vicenza, a sort of tracery not met with in other countries is freely employed. the openings are square-headed, and are divided into separate lights by small columns; the heads of these lights are ogee-shaped, and the spaces between them and the horizontal lintel are filled in with circles, richly quatrefoiled or otherwise cusped (fig. 55). the upper arcade of the ducal palace at venice offers the best known and finest example of this class of tracery. [illustration: fig. 55.--tracery, from venice.] _roofs and vaults._ the vaulting of italian churches is always simple, and the bays, as has been pointed out, are usually wider than those of the northern gothic churches. frequently there are no ribs of any sort to the groins of the vaults. a characteristic feature of italian gothic is the central dome. it is rarely very large or overpowering, and in the one instance of a magnificent dome--the cathedral at florence, the feature, though intended from the first, was added after the gothic period had closed. still many churches have a modest dome, and it frequently forms a striking feature in the interior, while in some northern instances (_e.g._ at the certosa at pavia, or at chiaravalle) it is treated like a many storeyed pyramid and becomes an external feature of importance. at sant' antonio at padua there are five domes. the churches of the preaching orders are some of them covered by timber ceilings, not perfectly flat but having an outline made up of hollow curves of rather flat sweep. the great halls at padua and vicenza displayed a vast wooden curved ceiling resembling the hull of a ship turned upside down. the ordinary church roof is of flat pitch and frequently concealed behind a parapet. dormer windows, crestings, and other similar features, by the use of which northern architects enriched their roofs, are hardly ever employed by italian architects. _mouldings and ornaments._ ornament is almost instinctively understood by the italians, and their mastery of it is well shown in their architecture. the carving of spandrels, capitals, and other ornaments, and the sculpture of the heads and statues introduced is full of power and beauty. the famous capitals of the lower arcade of the ducal palace may be quoted as illustrations. the employment of coloured materials is carried so far as sometimes to startle an eye trained to the sombreness of english architecture, but a great deal of the beauty of this style is derived from colour, and much of the comparative simplicity and scarcity of mouldings is due to the desire to leave large unbroken surfaces for marble linings, mosaics or fresco painting. mouldings, where they are introduced, differ from northern mouldings in being flatter and far less bold, their enrichments are chiefly confined to dentils, notches, and small and simple ornaments. stained glass is not so often seen as in france, but is to be met with, as, for example, in the fine church of san petronio at bologna, and in sta. maria novella, and in the cathedral at florence. at florence the stained glass has a character of its own both in colour and style of treatment. it is not too much to say that every kind of decoration which can be employed to add beauty to a building may be found at its best in italy. in the churches much of the finest furniture, such as stall-work, screens, altar frontals, will be found in profusion; and the church porches and the mural monuments should be especially studied on account of the singular elegance with which they are usually designed. _construction and design._ the material employed for the external and internal face of the walls in a very large proportion of the buildings mentioned in this chapter is marble. this is sometimes used in blocks as stone is with us, but more frequently in the form of thin slabs as a facing upon masonry or brickwork. in lombardy, where brick is the natural building material, most of the walls are not only built but faced with brick; and the ornamental features, including tracery, are often executed in ornamental brickwork, or in what is known as terra-cotta (_i.e._ bricks or blocks of brick clay of fine quality, moulded or otherwise ornamented and burnt like bricks). stone was less commonly employed as a building material in italy during the gothic period, than in other countries of europe. the surfaces of the vaults, and the surfaces of the internal walls were often covered with mosaics, or with paintings in fresco. vaulting is frequently met with, but it is generally simple in character, the flat external roof over it is commonly covered with tiles or metal, while the apparent gable frequently rises more sharply than the actual roof. the italians seem never to have cordially welcomed the gothic principle of resisting the thrust of vaults or arches by a counter-thrust, or by the weight of a buttress. the buttress is almost unknown in italian gothic, and as a rule an iron tie is introduced at the feet of such arches as would in france or germany have been buttressed. this expedient is, of course, economical, but to northern eyes it appears strange and out of place. the italians, however, take no pains to conceal it, and many of their lighter works, such as canopies over tombs, porches, &c., would fall to pieces at once were the iron ties removed. open timber roofs in the english fashion are unknown; but the wooden ceilings already alluded to are found in san zeno at verona, and the eremitani at padua. a kind of open roof of large span, carried by curved ribs and tied by iron ties, covers the great hall of the basilica at vicenza, and the very similar hall at padua. the ribs of these roofs are built up of many thicknesses of material bolted together. the design of italian gothic buildings presents many peculiarities, some of which are due to the materials made use of. for example, where brick and terra-cotta are alone employed, wide moulded cornices of no great projection, and broad masses of enriched moulding encircling arches are easily executed, and they are accordingly constantly to be found; but bold mouldings, with deep hollows, similar to those of early english arches, could not be constructed of these materials, and are not attempted. these peculiarities will be found in the town hall at cremona, of which an illustration (fig. 50) has already been given. [illustration: fig. 56.--window from tivoli.] where marble is used, the peculiar fineness of its surface, upon which the bright italian sun makes the smallest moulding effective, combined with the fact that the material, being costly, is often used in thin slabs, has given occasion to extreme flatness of treatment, and to the use of modes of enrichment which do not require much depth of material. our illustration of a window from the piazza s. croce at tivoli, shows these peculiarities extremely well (fig. 56), and also illustrates the strong predilection which the italian architects retained throughout the gothic period for squareness and for horizontal lines. the whole ornamental treatment is here square; the window rests on a strongly-moulded horizontal sill, and is surrounded by flatly-carved enrichment, making a square panel of the entire feature. even in the richly-decorated window (fig. 57), which is in its pointed outline more truly gothic than the tivoli example, much of the same quality can be traced. the arch and jamb are richly moulded, but the whole mass of mouldings is flat, and the flat cuspings of the tracery, elaborately carved though it be, more resemble the cusps of early western gothic, executed at a time when tracery was beginning its career, than work belonging to the period of full maturity to which this feature, as a whole, undoubtedly belongs. where marbles were plentiful enough to be built into the fabric, the national love of colour gave rise to the use of black and white--or sometimes red and white--alternate courses, already mentioned. the effect of this striped masonry may be partly judged of from the illustration of the cathedral at siena (fig. 52), where it is employed to a considerable extent. a finer method of surface decoration, less simple, however, and perhaps less frequently practised, was open to the italian architect, in the use of panels of various coloured marbles. a beautiful example of the employment of this expedient exists in giotto's campanile at florence (fig. 51). [illustration: fig. 57.--italian gothic window, with tracery in the head. (13th century.)] the flatness of the roofs, which the italians never abandoned, was always found difficult to reconcile with the gothic tendency to height and steepness. in many cases, the sharp pitched gables which the buildings display, are only masks, and do not truly denote the pitch of the roofs behind them. in other instances the walls finish with a horizontal parapet, plain or ornamental, quite concealing the roof. in the roofs of their campaniles, however, the gothic architects of italy were usually happy; they almost always adopted a steep conical terminal, with or without pinnacles, which is very telling against the sky; even if its junction with the tower is at times clumsy. the brightness of southern suns prevented the adoption of the great windows, adapted to masses of stained glass, which were the ambition of northern architects in the fourteenth century; and the tenacity with which a love for squareness of effect and for strongly-marked horizontal lines of various sorts retained its hold, tended to keep italian gothic buildings essentially different from those of northern nations; but the love of colour, the command of precious materials, and of fine sculpture, the passion for beauty and for a decorative richness, and the artistic taste of the italians, display themselves in these buildings in a hundred ways: all this lends to them a charm such as few works of the middle ages existing elsewhere can surpass. spain.--chronological sketch. an early, middle, and late period can be distinguished in dealing with spanish gothic. the first period reaches to the first quarter of the thirteenth century, the second occupies the remainder of the thirteenth and the fourteenth centuries, the third completes the fifteenth and runs on into part of the sixteenth. the early style is one of much purity and dignity, and is developed directly from the romanesque of the country. the cathedral of st. iago di compostella, a fine cruciform church of round-arched gothic, with a magnificent western portal,[28] recalling the great lateral porches at chartres, is an early and fine example. like other churches of the type in spain, it is far plainer inside than out, but it is vaulted throughout. the cathedral of zamora, and those of tarragona and salamanca must also be referred to. in each of these, the most thoroughly spanish feature is a dome, occupying the crossing of the nave and transepts, and apparently better developed than those in early german churches or in italian ones. it is called in spanish the _cimborio_. this feature was constructed so as to consist of an inner dome, decorated by ribs thrown over the central space, and carried by pendentives; having above it a separate outer dome somewhat higher and often richly decorated. this feature unfortunately disappeared when the french designs of the thirteenth century began to be the rage. a peculiarity of plan, however, which was retained throughout the whole gothic period in spain, is to be found in the early churches; it consists of an inclosure for the choir quite in the body of the church, and often west of the transepts,--in such a position, in fact, as the choir at westminster abbey occupies. a third peculiarity is the addition of an outer aisle, not unlike the arcade of a cloister, to the side walls of the churches, possibly with a view of protecting them from heat. with the thirteenth century a strong passion for churches, closely resembling those being erected in france at the same time, set in, as has just been remarked. accordingly the cathedrals of toledo, burgos, and leon, approach very closely to french types. toledo is very large, five aisled, and with a vast chevet. its exterior is unfinished, but the dignity of its fine interior may be well understood from the illustration (fig. 58) here given. burgos is not so ambitious in size as toledo, but has a florid exterior of late architecture with two lofty, open-traceried spires, like strasburg and other german examples. leon is remarkable for its lofty clerestory. spanish gothic may be said to have culminated in the vast cathedral at seville (begun 1401), claiming to be of greater extent than any gothic cathedral in the world, larger, therefore, than milan or cologne. it stands on the site of a mosque, and has never been completed externally. the interior is very imposing and rich, but when it is stated that it was not completed till 1520, it may be readily understood that many of the details are very late, and far from the purity of earlier examples. [illustration: fig. 58.--the cathedral at toledo. interior. (begun 1227.)] in the fourteenth century an innovation, of which french architects immediately north of the pyrenees were also availing themselves, found favour in barcelona. the great buttresses by which the thrust of the vaults was met were brought inside the boundary walls of the church, and were made to serve as division walls between a series of side chapels. both here and at manresa and gerona, cathedrals were built, resembling in construction that at alby, in southern france; in these this arrangement was carried a step further, and the side aisles were suppressed, leaving the whole nave to consist of a very bold vaulted hall, fringed by a series of side chapels, which were separated from each other by the buttresses which supported the main vault. these large vaults, however, when bare of decoration, as most of the spanish vaults are, appear bald and poor in effect, though they are grand objects structurally. the gothic work of the latest period in spain became extraordinarily florid in its details, especially in the variety introduced into the ribs of the vaulting and the enrichments generally. the great cathedrals of segovia and salamanca were neither of them begun till the sixteenth century had already well set in. they are the two principal examples of this florid gothic. [illustration: fig. 59.--the giralda at seville. (begun in 1196. finished in 1538).] it will not be forgotten that the country we are now considering was fully occupied by the moors, and that they left in southern spain buildings of great merit. a certain number of christian churches exist built in a style which has been called moresco, as being a kind of fusion of moorish and gothic. the towers of these churches bear a close resemblance to the saracenic towers of which the beautiful bell-tower, called the giralda, at seville (fig. 59) is the type; with this and similar examples in the country it is not surprising that at toledo, saragoza, and other places, towers of the same character should be erected as parts of churches in which the architecture throughout is as much saracenic as christian. to many of these great churches, cloisters, and monastic buildings, which are often both extensive and of a high order of architectural excellence, are attached. the secular buildings, of spain in the gothic period are, on the other hand, neither numerous nor remarkable. portugal. the architecture of portugal has been very little investigated. the great church at batalha[29] is probably the most important in the country. this building, though interesting in plan, is more remarkable for a lavish amount of florid ornament, of which our illustration (fig. 60) may furnish some idea, than for really fine architecture. the conventual church at belem, near lisbon, a work of the beginning of the sixteenth century, and equally florid, is another of the small number of specimens of portuguese gothic of which descriptions or illustrations have been published. footnotes: [25] an illustration of such a campanile will be found in that belonging to the cathedral of siena (fig. 52). [26] see frontispiece. [27] for an explanation of this term, see _ante_, chapter v., page 48. [28] a cast of this portal is at the south kensington museum. [29] see _sculptures of the monastery at batalha_, published by the arundel society. [illustration: {crête from notre dame, paris.}] chapter ix. gothic architecture. principles of construction and design. _materials and construction._ the gothic architects adhered, at any rate till the fifteenth century, to the use of very small stones in their masonry. in many buildings of large size it is hard to find any stone heavier than two men can lift. bad roads and the absence of good mechanical means of hoisting and moving big blocks led to this. the mortar, though good, is not equal to the roman. as a rule in each period mortar joints are thick. they are finest in the fifteenth century. the masonry of all important features of the building is always good; it is often a perfect marvel of dexterity and skill as well as of beauty. the arts of workers in other materials, such as carpenters, joiners, smiths, and plumbers were carried to great perfection during the gothic period. the appropriate ornamental treatment which each material is best fitted to receive was invariably given to it, and forms appropriate to one material were very rarely copied in others. for example, whenever wrought iron, a material which can be beaten and welded, or rivetted, was employed, those ornamental forms were selected into which hot iron can with ease be beaten, and such groups of those forms were designed as can be obtained by welding or by rivetting them together. wood, on the other hand, cannot be bent with ease, but can be readily cut, drilled with holes, notched and carved; accordingly, where wood had to be treated ornamentally, we only find such forms as the drill, the chisel, the saw, or the gouge readily and naturally leave behind them. again, the mode into which wood can be best framed together was carefully considered from a constructional point of view, and mediæval joiners' work is always first so designed as to reduce the damage from shrinkage to the smallest amount possible; and the pieces of which it is composed are then appropriately ornamented, moulded, or carved. stone is now always, at least in this country, worked by being first squared and then worked-down or "sunk" from the squared faces to the mouldings required, and this procedure seems to have been common, though not quite universal, in the middle ages. consequently we usually find the whole of the external mouldings with which the doorways and arcades of important buildings were enriched, designed so as to be easily formed out of stones having squared faces, or, to use the technical phrase, to be "sunk" from the squared blocks. the character of sculpture in wood differs from that in stone, the material being harder, more capable of standing alone; so in stone we find more breadth, in wood finer lines and more elaboration. in a word, no material was employed in simulating another (or with the rarest exceptions), and when any ornament was to be executed in one place in one material and in another place in a different one, such alterations were always made in the treatment as corresponded to the different qualities of the two materials. the arch was introduced whenever possible, and the structure of a great gothic building presents the strongest possible contrast to that of a greek building. in the greek temple there was no pressure that was not vertical and met by a vertical support, wall, or column, and no support that was not vastly in excess of the dimensions actually required to do the work. a great gothic building attains stability through the balanced counterpoise of a vast series of pressures, oblique, perpendicular, or horizontal, so arranged as to counteract each other. the vault was kept from spreading by the flying buttress, the thrust of the arcade was resisted by massive walls, and so on throughout. the equilibrium thus obtained was sometimes so ticklish that a storm of wind, a trifling settlement, or a slight concussion sufficed to occasion a disaster; and many of the daring feats of the masons of the middle ages are lost to us, because they dared a little too much and the entire structure collapsed. this happened more often in the middle period of the style than in the earliest, but during the whole gothic period there is a constant uniform tendency in one direction: thinner walls, wider arches, loftier vaults, slenderer buttresses, slighter piers, confront us at every step, and we need only compare some norman structure (such as durham), with a perpendicular (such as henry vii.'s chapel), to see how vast a change took place in this respect. _the principles of gothic design._ all the germs of gothic architecture exist in the romanesque of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and became developed as the passion for more slender proportions, greater lightness, and loftiness of effect, and more delicate enrichment became marked. it is quite true that the pointed arch is universally recognised as, so to speak, the badge of gothic, even to the extent of having suggested the title of christian pointed architecture, by which it is often called. but the pointed arch must be regarded rather as a token that the series of changes, which, starting from the heavy if majestic romanesque of such a cathedral as peterborough, culminated in the gracefulness of salisbury or lincoln, was far advanced towards completion, than as really essential to their perfection. many of the examples of the transition period exhibit the round arch blended with the pointed (_e.g._ the nave of st. david's cathedral or the choir of canterbury), and when we come to consider german architecture we shall find that the adoption of the pointed arch was postponed till long after the development of all, or almost all, the other features of the gothic style; so as to place beyond question the existence, in that country at least, of "round arched gothic." some of the best authorities have indeed proposed to employ this title as a designation for much, if not all, the round arched architecture of the west of europe, but scott, sharpe, and other authorities class mediæval art down to the middle of the twelfth century under the general head of romanesque, a course which has been adopted in this volume. the proportions of gothic buildings were well studied, their forms were always lofty, their gables sharp, and their general composition more or less pyramidal. remarkable numerical relations between the dimensions of the different parts of a great gothic cathedral can be discovered upon careful examination in most, if not all instances, and there can be little doubt that a system of geometrical proportions ran through the earlier design, and that much of the harmony and beauty which the buildings present is traceable to this fact. independent of this the skill with which subordinate features and important ones are fitted to their respective positions, both by their dimensions and by their relative elaboration or plainness, forms a complete system of proportion, making use of the word in its broadest sense; and the results are extremely happy. apparent size was imparted to almost every gothic building by the smallness, great number, and variety of its features, and by the small size of the stones employed. the effect of strength is generally, though not perhaps so uniformly, also obtained, and dignity, beauty, and harmony are rarely wanting. symmetry, though not altogether overlooked, has but a slender hold upon gothic architects. it is far more observed in the interior than in the exterior of the buildings; but it must be remembered that symmetry formed the basis of many designs which, owing to the execution having been carried on through a long series of years and by different hands, came to be varied from the original intentions. thus, for example, chartres is a cathedral with two western towers. one of these was carried up and its spire completed in the twelfth century. the companion spire was not added till the end of the fifteenth, when men's ideas as to the proportions, shape, ornaments, and details of a spire had altered entirely;--the later architect did not value symmetry enough to think himself bound to adhere either to the design or to the height of the earlier spire, so we have in this great façade two similar flanking towers but spires entirely unlike. what happened at chartres happened elsewhere. the original design of buildings was in the main symmetrical, but it was never considered that symmetry was a matter so important as to require that much sacrifice should be made to preserve it. on the other hand the subordination of a multitude of small features to one dominant one enters largely into the design of every good gothic building; with the result that if the great governing feature or mass has been carried out in its entirety, almost any feature, no matter how irregular or unsymmetrical, may be safely introduced, and will only add picturesqueness and piquancy to the design. this is more or less a leading principle of gothic design. a building with no irregularities, none of those charming additions which add individual character to gothic churches, and none of the isolated features which the principle of subordination permits the architect to employ, has missed one of the chief qualities of the style. it is here that unskilled architects mostly fail when they attempt gothic designs; they either hold on to symmetry as though they were designing a greek temple, and they are unaware that the spirit of the style in which they are trying to work not only permits, but requires some irregular features; or if they do not fall into this error they are overtaken by the opposite one, and omit to make their irregular features subordinate to the general effect of the whole, an error less serious in its effects than the other, but still destructive of anything like the highest qualities in a building. repetition, like symmetry, is recognised by gothic architecture, but not adhered to in a rigid way. no buildings gain more from the repetition of parts than gothic churches and cathedrals; the series of pillars or piers and arches inside, the series of buttresses and windows outside, add scale to the general effect. but so long as it was in the main a series of features which broadly resembled one another, the gothic architect was satisfied, and did not feel bound to exact repetition. we are often, for example, surprised to find in the columns of a church an octagonal one alternating with a circular one, and almost invariably, if a series of capitals be examined, each will be discovered to differ from the others to some extent. in one bay of a church there may be a two-light window, and in the next a three-light window, and so on. this we find in buildings erected at one time and under one architect. where, however, a building begun at one period was continued at another (and this, it must be remembered, was the rule, not the exception, with all large gothic buildings), the architect, while usually repeating the same features, with the same general forms, invariably followed his own predilections as to detail. there is a very good example of this in westminster abbey, in the western bays of the nave, which were built years later than the eastern bays. they are, to a superficial observer, identical, being of the same height and width and shape of arch, but nearly every detail differs. disclosure, rather than concealment, was a principle of gothic design. this was demonstrated long ago by pugin, and many of his followers pushed the doctrine to such extremes, that they held--and some of them still hold--that no building is really gothic in which any part, either of its construction or arrangement, is not obviously visible inside and out. this is, however, carrying the principle too far. it is sufficient to say that the interior disposition of every gothic building was as much as possible disclosed by the exterior. thus, in a secular building, where there is a large room, there usually was a large window; when a lofty apartment occurs, its roof was generally proportionately high; where a staircase rises, we usually can detect it by a sloping row of little windows following the line of the stair, or by a turret roof. the mode in which the thrust of vaults is counterpoised is, as has been shown, frankly displayed by the gothic architects, and as a rule, every portion of the structure is freely exhibited. it grows out of this, that when an ornamental feature is desired, it is not constructed purely for ornament, as the romans added the columns and cornices of the orders to the outside of their massive walls purely as an architectural screen; but some requisite, of the building is taken and ornamented, and in some cases elaborated. thus the belfry grew into the enormous bell tower; the tower roof grew into the spire; the extra weight required on flying buttresses grew into the ornamental pinnacle; and the window head grew into tracery. there were, however, some exceptions. the walls were still constantly faced with finer masonry than in the heart, and though some are unwilling to admit the fact, were often plastered outside as well as in; and what is more remarkable, no other sign of the vault appeared outside the building than the buttresses required to sustain it. the external gable conforms to the shape of the roof which covered the vault, but the vault, perhaps the most remarkable and characteristic feature of the whole building, does not betray its presence by any external line or mark corresponding to its position and shape in the interior of the building. notwithstanding these and some other exceptions, frank disclosure must be reckoned one of the main principles of gothic architecture. [illustration: fig. 60.--doorway from church at batalha. (begun 1385.)] elaboration and simplicity were both so well known to the gothic architect that it is difficult to say that either of these qualities belongs exclusively to his work. but he was rarely simple when he had the opportunity of being elaborate, and simplicity was perhaps rather forced upon him by the circumstances under which he worked, by rude materials, scanty funds, and lack of skilled workmen, than freely chosen. many of the great works of the gothic period are as elaborate as they could be made (fig. 60), and yet, when simplicity had to be the order of the day, no architecture has lent it such a grace as gothic. the last pair of qualities is similarity and contrast. what has been said about repetition has anticipated the remarks called for by these qualities, so far as to point out that even where the arrangement of the building dictated the repetition of similar features, a general resemblance, and not an exact similarity, was considered sufficient. in the composition of masses of building, contrast and not similarity was the ruling principle. even in the interiors of great churches which, as a rule, are far more regular than the exteriors, the contrast between the comparative plainness of the nave and the richness of the choir was an essential element of design. external design in gothic buildings depends almost entirely upon contrast for its power of charming the eye, and it is this circumstance which has left the successive generations of men who toiled at our great gothic cathedrals so free to follow the bent of their own taste in their additions, rather than that of their forerunners. but setting aside the irregularities due to the caprice of various builders, and the constant changes which took place in detail through the gothic period, it is to contrast that we must trace most of the surprising effects attained by the architecture of the middle ages. the rich tracery was made richer by contrast with plain walls, the loftiest towers appeared higher from their contrast with the long level lines of roofs and parapets. it is, in truth, one of the principal marks of the decadence which began in the fifteenth century that the principle of contrast was, to a considerable extent, abandoned, at least in the details of the buildings if not in their great masses. walls were at that time panelled in imitation of the tracery of the adjoining windows, and no longer acted as a foil to them by their solid plainness; long rows of pinnacles, all exactly alike, followed the line of the parapets, and a repetition of absolutely identical features became the rule for the first time in the history of gothic art. there can be no doubt that had this modification run its natural course unchecked and undisturbed by the change in taste which abruptly brought the gothic period to a close, it must have resulted in the deterioration of the art. [illustration: {sculptured ornament from rheims cathedral.}] [illustration: {renaissance ornament from a frieze.}] renaissance architecture. chapter x. general view. gothic architecture had begun, before the close of the fifteenth century, to show marks of decadence, and men's minds and tastes were ripening for a change. the change, when it did take place, arose in italy, and was a direct consequence of that burst of modern civilisation known as the revival of letters. all the characteristics of the middle ages were rapidly thrown off. the strain of old roman blood in the modern italians asserted itself, and almost at a bound, literature and the arts sprang back, like a bow unstrung, into the forms they had displayed fifteen hundred years before. it became the rage to read the choice greek and latin authors, and to write latin with a pedantic purity. can we wonder that in painting, in sculpture, and in architecture, men reverted to the form, the style, and the decorations of the antique compositions, statues, and architectural remains? this was the more easy in italy, as gothic art had never at any time taken so firm a hold upon italians as it had upon nations north of the alps. though, however, the details and forms employed were all roman, or græco-roman, they were applied to buildings essentially modern, and used with much freedom and spirit. this revival of classic taste in art is commonly and appropriately called renaissance. in italy it took place so rapidly that there was hardly any transition period. brunelleschi, the first great renaissance architect, began his work as early as the middle of the fifteenth century, and his buildings, in which classic details of great severity and purity are employed, struck, so to speak, a keynote which had been responded to all over italy before the close of the fifteenth century. to other countries the change spread later, and it found them less prepared to welcome it unreservedly. accordingly, in france, in england, and in many parts of germany, we find a transition period, during which buildings were designed in a mixed style. in england, the transition lasted almost through the sixteenth century. as the century went on, a most picturesque and telling style, the earlier phases of which are known as tudor and the later as elizabethan, sprang up in england. it betrays in its mixture of gothic and classic forms great incongruities and even monstrosities; but it allows unrestrained play for the fancies, and the best mansions and manors of the time, such as hatfield, hardwick, burleigh, bramshill, and audley end, are unsurpassed in their picturesqueness and romantic charm. the old red-brick, heavily chimneyed, and gabled buildings, with their large windows divided by bold mullions and transoms, and their simple noble outlines, are familiar to us all, and so are their characteristic features. the great hall with its oriel or its bay, the fine plastered ceiling, supported by heavy beams of timber; the wide oak staircase, with its carved balusters, and ornamented newel post, and heavy-moulded handrail; the old wainscoted parlour, with its magnificent chimney-piece reaching to the ceiling; these are all essentially english features, and are full of vigour and life, as indeed the work of every period of transition must almost necessarily prove. the transitional period in france produced exquisite works more refined and elegantly treated than ours, but not so vigorous. its manner is known as the françois premier (francis i.) style. no modern buildings are more profusely ornamented, and yet not spoilt. in germany, the castle of heidelberg may be named as a well-known specimen of the transition period, a period over which however we must not linger. suffice it to say, that sooner or later the change was fully accomplished in every european country, and renaissance architecture, modified as climate, materials, habits, or even caprice suggested, yet the same in its essential characteristics, obtained a firm footing: this it has succeeded in retaining, though not to the exclusion of other styles, for now nearly three centuries. in italy, renaissance churches, great and small--from st. peter's downwards--and magnificent secular buildings, some, like the vatican palace or the library of st. mark at venice, for public purposes, but most for the occupation of the great wealthy and princely families, abound in naples, rome, florence, genoa, venice, milan, and indeed every great city. in france, the transition period was succeeded by a time when vast undertakings, _e.g._ the hôtel de ville, the louvre, the tuileries, versailles, were carried out in the revived style with the utmost magnificence, and were imitated in every part of the country in the structures greater or smaller which were then built. in england, the works of inigo jones, and of wren, are the most famous works of the developed style, and to the last-named architect we owe a cathedral second to none in europe for its beauty of outline, and play of light and shade. to germany, and the countries of the north-east europe, and to spain and portugal on the south, the style also extended with no very great modification, either of its general forms or of its details. analysis of buildings. _plan._ the plan of renaissance buildings was uniform and symmetrical, and the picturesqueness of the gothic times was abandoned. the plans of churches were not widely different from those in use in italy before the revival of classic art took place, but it will be remembered that these were by no means so irregular or picturesque at any time as the plans of french and english cathedral churches. in secular architecture, the vast piles erected in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries by italian, french, and spanish architects are to the last degree orderly in their disposition. they are adapted to a great variety of purposes, and they display a varying degree of skill. the palaces of genoa are, on the one hand, among the cleverest examples of planning existing; on the other hand, many of the palaces in france are weak and poor to the last degree. as a rule the scale of the plan is more considerable than in gothic work. a very large building is often not divided into more parts than a small one, or one of moderate size. in st. peter's, for example, there are only four bays between the west front and the dome, everything being on a most gigantic scale. as a contrast to this principle we may cite the nave of the gothic cathedral at milan, which is not so long at st. peter's, but has at least thrice as many bays, and looks much larger in consequence. no style affords more room for skill in planning than the renaissance, and in no style is the exercise of such skill more repaid by results. _walls and columns._ in the treatment of external walls, the mediæval use of small materials, involving many joints for the exterior of walls has quite disappeared, and they are universally faced with stone or plaster, and are consequently uniformly smooth. perhaps the principal feature to note is the very great use made of that elaborate sort of masonry in which the joints of the stones are very carefully channelled or otherwise marked, and which is known by the singularly inappropriate name of rustic work. the basements of most italian and french palaces are rusticated, and in many cases (as the pitti palace, florence) rustic work covers an entire façade. the gothic mouldings in receding planes disappear entirely, and the classic architrave takes their place. the orders are again revived and are used (as the romans often used them) as purely decorative features added for the mere sake of ornament to a wall sufficient without them, and are freely piled one upon the other. palladio (a very influential italian architect) reproduced the use of lofty pilasters running through two or even more storeys of the building, and often combined one tall order and two short ones in his treatment of the same part of the building, a contrivance which in less clever hands than his has given rise to the greatest confusion. the renaissance architects also revived the late roman manner of employing the column and entablature. they frequently carried on the top of a column a little square pier divided up as the architrave and frieze proper to the column would be divided, and they surmounted it with a cornice which was carried quite round this pier, and from this curious compound pedestal an arch will frequently spring. the classic portico, with pediments, was constantly employed by them; and small pediments over window heads were common. a peculiarity worth mention is the introduction in many italian palaces of a great crowning cornice, proportioned not to the size of the columns and of the order upon which it rests (if an order be employed), but to the height of the whole building. much fine effect is obtained by means of this feature; it is, however, better fitted for sunny italy than for gloomy england, and it is not an unmixed success when repeated in our climate. towers are less frequently employed than by the gothic architects, and indeed in italy the sky-line was less thought of at this period than it was in the middle ages. in churches, towers sometimes occur, nowhere more picturesque than those designed by sir christopher wren for many of his london parish churches. the frequent use of the dome takes the place of the tower both in churches and secular buildings. _openings._ openings are both flat-headed and semicircular, occasionally elliptical, but hardly ever pointed. renaissance buildings may be to some extent divided into those which depend for effect upon window openings, and those which depend chiefly upon architectural features such as cornices, pilasters, and orders. among the buildings where fenestration (or the treatment of windows) is relied upon the palaces of venice stand pre-eminent as compositions admirably designed for effect and very successful. in them the openings are massed near the centre of the façade, and strong piers are left near the angles, a simple expedient when once known, and one inherited from the gothic palaces in that city, but giving remarkable individuality of character to this group of buildings. in roofs, including vaults and domes, we meet with a divergence of practice between italy and france. in italy low-pitched roofs were the rule: the parapet alone often formed the sky-line, and the dome and pediment are usually the only telling features of the outline. france, on the other hand, revived a most picturesque feature of gothic days, namely, the high-pitched roof, employing it in the shape commonly known as the mansard[30] roof. nothing adds more to the effectiveness of the great french renaissance buildings than these lofty terminals. the dome is, however, the glory of this style, as it had been of the roman. it is the one feature by which revived and original classic architects retain a clear and defined advantage over gothic architects, who, strange to say, all but abandoned the dome. the mouldings and other ornaments of the renaissance are much the same as those of the roman style, which the italians revived; their sculptures and their mural decorations were all originally drawn from classic sources. these, however, attained very great excellence, and it is probable that such decorative paintings as raphael and his scholars executed in rome, at genoa, at mantua, and elsewhere, far surpass anything which the old roman decorative artists ever executed. _construction and design._ the earlier renaissance buildings are remarkable for the great use which their architects made of carpentry, as the most modern structures are for the use of wrought and cast-iron construction. as regards carpentry, it is of course true that all the woodwork of the classic periods, and much of that done in the gothic period, has perished, either through decay or fire; but making every allowance for this, we must still recognise a very great increase in the employment of timber as an integral part of large structures. vaulted roofs for example are comparatively rare, and domes, even when the inner dome is of brickwork or masonry, have their outer envelope of carpentry. a disuse of brick and rough masonry, or rather a constant effort to conceal them from view, is a distinctive mark of renaissance work. the roman method of facing rough walls with fine stone was resorted to in the best buildings. in humbler buildings plaster is employed. renaissance architects made very free use of plaster. inside and out this material is utilised, not merely to cover surfaces, but to form architectural features. cornices, panels, and enrichments of all kinds modelled in plaster are constantly employed in the interior of rooms and buildings. on the exterior we constantly find imitations of similar architectural features proper to stone executed in plaster and simulating stone; a short-sighted practice which cannot be commended, and which has only cheapness and convenience in its favour. there can be no question of the fact that the features thus executed never equal those done in stone in their effectiveness, and are far more liable to decay. design in renaissance buildings may be said to be directed towards producing a telling result by the effect of the buildings taken as a whole, rather than by the intricacy or the beauty of individual parts; and herein lies one of the great contrasts between renaissance and gothic architecture. a renaissance building which fails to produce an impression as a whole is rarely felt to be successful. no better example of this can be given than the straggling, unsatisfactory palace of versailles, magnificent as it is in dimensions and rich in treatment. to the production of a homogeneous impression the arrangement of plan, the proportion of storeys, the contrasts of voids and solids, and above all the outline of the entire building, should be devoted. the general arrangement of buildings is usually strictly symmetrical, one half corresponding to the other, and with some well-defined feature to mark the centre. of course in very large buildings this does not occur, nor in the nature of things can it often take place in the sides of churches; but the individual features of such buildings, and all those parts of them which permit of symmetry in their arrangement, always display it. proportion plays an important part in the design of renaissance buildings. the actual shape of openings, the proportion which they bear to voids, the proportion of storeys to one another; and, going into details, the proportions which the different features--_e.g._, cornice, and the columns supporting it--should bear to one another, have to be carefully studied. it is to the possession of a keen sense of what makes a pleasing proportion and one satisfactory to the eye, that the great architects of italy owed the greater part of their success. renaissance architecture is so familiar in its general features, and these have been so constantly repeated, that we may not easily recognise the great need for skill and taste which exists if they are to be designed so as to produce the most refined effect possible. many of the successful buildings of the style owe their excellence to the great delicacy and elegance of the mode in which the details have been studied, rather than to the vigour and boldness with which the masses have been shaped and disposed; and though grandeur is the noblest quality of which the style is capable, yet many more opportunities for displaying grace and refinement than for attaining grandeur offer themselves, and by nothing are the best works of the style so well marked out as by the success with which those opportunities have been grasped and turned to account. the concealment both of construction and arrangement is largely practised in renaissance buildings. behind an exterior wall filled by windows of uniform size and equally spaced, rooms large and small, corridors, staircases, and other features have to be provided for. this is completely in contrast to the gothic principle of displaying frankly on the outside the arrangement of what is within; but it must be remembered that art often works most happily and successfully when limited by apparently strict and difficult conditions, and these rules have not prevented the great architects of the renaissance from accomplishing works where both the exterior and the interior are thoroughly successful, and are brought into such happy harmony that the difficulties have clearly been no bar to success. there is no canon of art violated by such a method, the simple fact being that gothic buildings are designed under one set of conditions and renaissance under another. it is less easy to defend the use of pilasters and columns large enough to appear as though they were the main support of the building, for purely decorative purposes; yet here perhaps the fault lies rather in the extent to which the practice has been carried, and above all the scale upon which it is carried out, than in anything else. small columns are constantly employed in gothic buildings in positions where they serve the æsthetic purpose of conveying a sense of support, but where it is impossible for them to carry any weight. the renaissance architects have done the same thing on a large scale, but it must not be forgotten that they only revived a roman practice as part of the ancient style to which they reverted, and that they are not responsible for originating it. it will be understood therefore that symmetry, strict uniformity, not mere similarity, in features intended to correspond, and constant repetition, are leading principles in renaissance architecture. these qualities tend to breadth rather than picturesqueness of effect, and to similarity rather than contrast. simplicity and elaboration are both compatible with renaissance design; the former distinguishes the earlier and purer examples of the style, the latter those more recent and more grandiose. it should be observed that in the transition styles, such as our own elizabethan, or the french style of francis the first, these principles of design are mixed up in a very miscellaneous way with those followed in the gothic period. the result is often puzzling and inconsistent if we attempt to analyse it with exactness, but rarely fails to charm by its picturesque and irregular vividness. footnotes: [30] named after a french architect of the 17th century. [illustration: {from a terra-cotta frieze at lodi.}] chapter xi. renaissance architecture in italy. renaissance architecture--the architecture of the classic revival--had its origin in italy, and should be first studied in the land of its birth. there are more ways than one in which it may be attempted to classify italian renaissance buildings. the names of conspicuous architects are sometimes adopted for this purpose, for now, for the first time, we meet with a complete record of the names and performances of all architects of note: the men who raised the great works of gothic art are, with a few exceptions, absolutely unknown to us. an approximate division into three stages can also be recognised. there is an early, a developed, and a late renaissance, but this is very far indeed from being a completely marked series, and was more interfered with by local circumstances and by the character and genius of individual artists than in gothic. for this reason a local division will be of most service. the best examples exist in the great cities, with a few exceptions, and it is almost more useful to group them--as the paintings of the renaissance are also often grouped--by locality than in either of the other methods. florence. renaissance architecture first sprang into existence in florence. here chiefly the works of the early renaissance are met with, and the names of the great florentine architects are brunelleschi and alberti. brunelleschi was a citizen of florence, of very ardent temperament and great energy, and a true artist. he was born in 1377, was originally trained as a goldsmith and sculptor, but devoted himself to the study of architecture, and early set his heart upon being appointed to complete the dome of the then unfinished cathedral of florence, of which some account has already been given. florence in the fifteenth century was full of artistic life, and the revival of learning and arts had then begun to take definite shape. the first years of the century found brunelleschi studying antiquities at rome, to fit himself for the work he desired to undertake. after his return to his native city, he ultimately succeeded in the object of his ambition; the cathedral was entrusted to him, and he erected the large pointed dome with which it is crowned. he also erected two large churches in florence, which, as probably the first important buildings designed and built in the new style, possess great interest. santo spirito, one of these, shows a fully matured system of architectural treatment, and though it is quite true that it was a revived system, yet the application of it to a modern building, different in its purpose and in its design from anything the romans had ever done, is little short of a work of genius. santo spirito has a very simple and beautifully regular plan, and its interior has a singular charm and grace: over the crossing is raised a low dome. the columns of the arcade are corinthian columns, and the refinement of their detail and proportions strikes the eye at once on entering the building. the influence of brunelleschi, who died in 1440, was perpetuated by the works and writings of alberti (born 1398) an architect of literary cultivation who wrote a systematic treatise which became extremely popular, and helped to form the taste and guide the practice of his contemporaries. he lived till near the close of the fifteenth century, and erected some buildings of great merit. to alberti we owe the design of the ruccellai palace in florence, a building begun in 1460, and which had been preceded by somewhat bolder and simpler designs. this is a three storey building, but has pilasters carried up the piers between the windows and a regular entablature and cornice[31] at each storey. the building is elegant and graceful, and though the employment of the orders[32] as its decoration gives it a distinctive character, it bears a strong general resemblance to the group of which the strozzi palace (fig. 61) may be taken as the type. the earliest florentine palaces are the riccardi, which dates from 1430, and the pitti of almost the same date; brunelleschi is said to have been consulted in the design of both, but michelozzo was the architect. the distinguishing characteristic of the early palaces in this city is solidity, which rises from the fact that they were also fortresses. the pitti, well known for its picture gallery, is a building of vast extent, built throughout in very boldly rusticated masonry, the joints and projections of the stones being greatly exaggerated. the riccardi, a square block of building, bears a considerable resemblance to the strozzi, but is plainer. it is a most dignified building in its effect. the strozzi palace (fig. 61) was the next great palatial pile erected. it was designed by cronaca, and begun in 1498. like the riccardi, it is of three storeys, with a bold projecting cornice. the whole wall is covered with rusticated masonry; the windows of the lower floor are small and square; those of the two upper floors are larger and semicircular headed, and with a shaft acting as a mullion, and carrying arches which occupy the window head with something like tracery. the entrance is by a semicircular headed archway. there is a great height of unpierced wall in the lowest storey and above the heads of the two upper ranges of windows; and to this and the bold overhanging cornice, this building, and those like it, owe much of their dignity and impressiveness. an elevation, such as our illustration, may convey a fair idea of the good proportion and ensemble of the front, but it is difficult without actually seeing the buildings to appreciate the effect produced by such palaces as these, seen foreshortened in the narrow streets, and with the shadows from their bold cornices and well-defined openings intensified by the effect of the italian sun. [illustration: fig. 61.--strozzi palace at florence. (begun 1489.)] many excellent palatial buildings belong to the end of the fifteenth century. one among them is attributed to bramante (who died 1513), a florentine, whom we shall meet with in rome and elsewhere. the guadagni palace has an upper storey entirely open, forming a sheltered loggia, but it is mentioned here chiefly on account of the decorations incised on its walls by the method known as sgraffito. part of the plain wall is covered in this way with decorative designs, which appear as though drawn with a bold line on their surface. an example of this decoration will be found in our illustration (fig. 62), representing a portion of the loggia del consiglio at verona. the series of great florentine palaces closes with a charming example, the pandolfini, designed by the great raphael, and commenced in 1520--in other words, in the first quarter of the sixteenth century. this palace is only one of many instances to be found in italy of the skill in more walks of art than one, of some of the greatest artists. raphael, though best known as a painter, executed works of sculpture of great merit, and designed some other buildings besides the one now under notice. the pandolfini palace (fig. 63) is small, the main building having only four windows in the front and two storeys in height, with a low one-storey side building. its general design has been very successfully copied in the travellers' club house, pall mall. on comparing this with any of the previously named designs, it will be seen that the semicircular headed windows have disappeared, the rusticated masonry is only now retained at the angles, and to emphasise the side entrance; and a small order with a little pediment (_i.e._ gable) is employed to mark each opening, door or window. in short this building belongs not only to another century, but to that advanced school of art to which we have given the name of developed italian renaissance. [illustration: fig. 62.--part of the loggia del consiglio at verona. (16th century.) showing the incised decoration known as _sgraffito_.] in florence some of the work of michelangelo is to be met with. his own house is here; so is the famous medici chapel, a work in which we find him displaying power at once as a sculptor and an architect. this interior is very fine and very studied both in its proportions and its details. the church of the annunziata, remarkable for a fine dome, carried on a drum resting directly on the ground, is the foremost renaissance church in florence. the contrast between early and matured renaissance can indeed be better recognised in florence than in almost any other city. the early work, that of bramante, brunelleschi, and the architects who drew their inspirations from these masters, was delicate and refined. the detail was always elegant, the ornament always unobtrusive, and often most graceful. features comparatively small in scale were employed, and were set off by the use of plain wall-surface, which was unhesitatingly displayed. the classic orders were used in a restricted, unobtrusive way, and with pilasters in preference to columns; and though probably the architects themselves would have repudiated the idea that the gothic art, which they had cast behind them, influenced their practice of revived classic in the remotest degree, it is nevertheless true that many of these peculiarities, and still more the general quality of the designs, were to a large extent those to which the practice of gothic architecture had led them. a change which was partly due to a natural desire for progress, was helped on by the great attention paid by students of architecture to the remains of ancient roman buildings; but it was the influence excited by the powerful genius of michelangelo, and by the gigantic scale and vigorous treatment of his masterpiece, st. peter's, which was the proximate occasion of a revolution in taste and practice, to which, the labours, both literary and artistic, of vignola, and the designs of palladio, gave form and consistency. in the fully-developed, or, as it is sometimes called, pure renaissance of italy, great use is made of the classic orders and pediment, and indeed of all the features which the romans had employed. plain wall space almost disappears under the various architectural features introduced, and all ornaments, details, and mouldings become bolder and richer, but often less refined and correct in design. [illustration: fig. 63.--the pandolfini palace, florence. designed by raphael. (begun 1520.)] rome. rome, the capital of the country, contains, as was fit, the central building of the fully-developed renaissance, st. peter's. bramante, the florentine, was the architect to whom the task of designing a cathedral to surpass anything existing in europe was committed by pope julius ii. at the opening of the sixteenth century. some such project had been entertained, and even begun, fifty years earlier, but the enterprise was now started afresh, a new design was made, and the first stone was laid by the pope in 1506. bramante died in some six or seven years, and five or six architects in succession, one of whom was raphael, proceeded with the work, without advancing it rapidly, for nearly half a century, during which time the design was modified again and again. in 1546 the great michelangelo was appointed architect, and the last eighteen years of his life were spent in carrying on this great work. he completed the magnificent dome in all its essential parts, and left the church a greek cross (_i.e._ one which has all its four arms equal) on plan, with the dome at the crossing. the boast is attributed to him that he would take the dome of the pantheon and hang it in the air; and this he has virtually accomplished in the dome of st. peter's--a work of the greatest beauty of design and boldness of construction. unfortunately, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, maderno was employed to lengthen the nave. this transformed the plan of the cathedral into a latin cross. the existing portico was built at the same time; and in 1661 bernini added the vast forecourt, lined by colonnades, which now forms the approach. this cathedral, of which the history has been briefly sketched, is the largest in the world. as we now see it, it consists of a vast vestibule; a nave of four bays with side aisles; a vast square central space over which hangs the great dome; transepts and a choir, each of one bay and an apse. outside the great central space, an aisle, not quite like the ordinary aisle of a church, exists, and there are two side chapels. it can be well understood that if the largest church in christendom is divided into so few parts, these must be themselves of colossal dimensions, and the truth is that the piers are masses of masonry which can be called nothing else than vast, while the spaces spanned by the arches and vaults are prodigious. there is little sense of mystery about the interior of the building (fig. 64), the eye soon grasps it as a whole, and hours must be spent in it before an idea of its gigantic size is at all taken in. the beauty of the colouring adds wonderfully to the effect of st. peter's upon the spectator, for the walls are rich with mosaics and coloured marbles; and the interior, the dome especially, with the drum upon which it rests, are decorated in colour throughout, with fine effect and in excellent taste. the interior is amply lighted, and, though very rich, not over decorated; its design is simple and noble in the extreme, and all its parts are wonderful in their harmony. the connection between the dome and the rest of the building is admirable, and there is a sense of vast space when the spectator stands under that soaring vault which belongs to no other building in the world. the exterior is disappointing as long as the building is seen in front, for the façade is so lofty and advances so far forward as to cut off the view of the lower part of the dome. to have an idea of the building as michelangelo designed it, it is necessary to go round to the back; and then, with the height of the drum fully seen and the contour of the dome, with all its massy lines of living force, carrying the eye with them right up to the elegant lantern that crowns the summit, some conception of the hugeness and the symmetry of this mountain of art seems to dawn on the mind. but even here it is with the utmost difficulty that one can apply any scale to the mass, so that the idea which the mind forms of its bulk is continually fluctuating. the history of this building extends over all the period of developed renaissance in rome, and its list of architects includes all the best known names. by the side of it every other church, even st. john lateran, appears insignificant; so that the secular buildings in rome, which are numerous, and some of them excellent, are more worth attention than the churches, though not a few of the three hundred churches and basilicas of the metropolis of italy are good examples of renaissance. [illustration: fig. 64.--st. peter's at rome. interior. (1506-1661.)] the altars, tombs, and other architectural or semi-architectural works which occur in many of the churches of rome, are, however, finer works of art as a rule than the buildings which they adorn. such gems are not confined to rome, but are to be found throughout italy: many of them belong to the best period of art. marble is generally the material, and the light as a rule falls on these works in one direction only. under these circumstances the most subtle moulding gives a play of light and shade, and the most delicate carving produces a richness of effect which cannot be attained in exterior architecture, executed for the most part in stone, exposed to the weather, and seen by diffused and reflected light. nothing of this sort is finer than the monuments by sansovino, erected in sta. maria del popolo at rome, one of which we illustrate on a small scale (fig. 65). the magnificent altar-piece in sta. coronale at vicenza, in which is framed bellini's picture of the baptism of christ, is another example, on an unusually large scale--fine in style, and covered with beautiful ornament. no secular building exists in rome so early or so simple as the severe florentine palaces; but bramante, who belongs to the early period, erected there the fine cancelleria palace; and the palazzo giraud (fig. 66). these buildings resemble one another very closely; each bears the impress of refined taste, but delicacy has been carried almost to timidity. the pilasters and cornices which are employed have the very slightest projection, but the large mass of the wall as compared with the openings, secures an appearance of solidity, and hence of dignity. the interior of the cancelleria contains an arcaded quadrangle (_cortile_) of great beauty. smaller palaces belonging to the same period and of the same refined, but somewhat weak, character exist in rome. [illustration: fig. 65.--monument, by sansovino, in sta. maria del popolo, rome. (15th century.)] [illustration: fig. 66.--palazzo giraud (now torlonia), rome. by bramante. (1506.)] the vatican palace is so vast that, like st. peter's, it took more than one generation to complete. to bramante's time belongs the great belvedere, since much altered, but in its original state an admirable work. this palace also can show some remarkable additions by bernini, a much later architect, with much that is not admirable or remarkable by other hands. the finest roman palace is the farnese, begun by san gallo in 1530, continued by michelangelo, and completed by giacomo della porta, each architect having altered the design. this building, notwithstanding its chequered history, is a dignified, impressive mass. it has only three storeys and a scarcely marked basement, and is nearly square, with a large quadrangle in its heart. it is very lofty, and has a great height of unpierced wall over each storey of windows, and is crowned by a bold and highly-enriched cornice--an unusual thing for rome. in this, and in many palaces built about the same time, the windows are ornamented in the same manner as those of the pandolfini palace at florence; the use of pilasters instead of columns is general; the openings are usually square-headed, circular heads being usually confined to arcades and loggie; the angles are marked by rustication, and the only cornice is the one that crowns the whole. this general character will apply to most of the works of baldassare peruzzi, vignola, sangallo, and raphael, who were, with michelangelo, the foremost architects in rome in the sixteenth century. but "the works executed by michelangelo are in a bolder and more pictorial style, as are also many productions grafted on the earlier italian manner by a numerous class of succeeding architects. in these is to be remarked a greater use of columns, engaged and isolated; stronger but less studied details; and a greater use of colonnades, in which however the combination with the semicircular arch is still unusual, the antique in this respect being followed to a great disadvantage. still there is a nobility, a palatial look about these large mansions which is very admirable, and is to be remarked in all the palaces, even up to the time of borromini, _circa_ 1640, by whom all the principles and parts of roman architecture were literally turned topsy-turvey. michelangelo's peculiar style was more thoroughly carried out on ecclesiastical buildings, and as practised by his successors, exhibits much that is fine, in large masses, boldly projecting cornices, three-quarter columns, and noble domes; but it is otherwise debased by great misconceptions as to the reasonable application of architecture."--m. d. w. in the seventeenth century a decline set in. the late renaissance has neither the severity of the early, nor the dignified richness of the mature time, but is extravagant; though at rome examples of its extreme phase are not common. maderno, who erected the west front of st. peter's, and bernini, who added the outer forecourt and also built the curiously designed state staircase (the _scala regia_) in the vatican, are the foremost architects. to these must be added borromini. the great barberini palace belongs to this century; but perhaps its most characteristic works are the fountains, some of them with elaborate architectural backgrounds, which ornament many of the open places in rome. few of the buildings of the eighteenth century in rome, or indeed in italy generally, claim attention as architectural works of a high order of merit. before leaving central italy for the north, it is necessary to mention the masterpiece of vignola--the great farnese palace at caprarola; and to add that in every city of importance examples more or less admirable of the art of the time were erected. venice, vicenza, and verona. the next great group of renaissance buildings is to be found at venice, where the style was adopted with some reluctance, and not till far on in the sixteenth century. at first we meet with some admixture of gothic elements; as, for example, in the rebuilding of the internal quadrangle of the ducal palace. pointed arches are partly employed in this work, which was completed about the middle of the sixteenth century. in the earlier palaces--which, it will be remembered, are comparatively narrow buildings standing side by side on the banks of the canals--the storeys are well marked; the windows are round headed with smaller arches within the main ones; the orders when introduced are kept subordinate; the windows are grouped together in the central portion of the front, as was the case with those of the gothic palaces, and very little use is made of rusticated masonry. the vendramini, cornaro, and trevisano palaces conform to this type. to the same period belong one or two fine churches, the most famous being san zacaria, a building with a very delicately panelled front, and a semicircular pediment in lieu of a gable; here, too, semicircular-headed openings are made use of. in many of these churches and other buildings, a beautiful ornament, which may be regarded as typical of early venetian renaissance, is to be found. it is the shell ornament, so called from its resemblance to a flat semicircular shell, ribbed from the centre to the circumference (fig. 67). [illustration: fig. 67.--italian shell ornament.] as time went on the style was matured into one of great richness, not to say ostentation, with which the names of sansovino, sanmichele, palladio, and scamozzi are identified as the prominent architects of the latter part of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. in this city of palaces sansovino, also a very fine sculptor, built the celebrated library of st. mark, facing the ducal palace, which has been followed very closely in the design of the carlton club, pall mall. here, as in the splendid cornaro palace, the architect relied chiefly upon the columns and entablatures of the orders, combined with grand arcades enriched by sculpture, so arranged as to occupy the spaces between the columns; almost the whole of the wall-space was so taken up, and the basement only was covered with rustication, often rough worked, as at the beautiful palazzo pompeii, verona, and the grimani palace, venice. "sanmichele's works are characterised chiefly by their excellent proportions, their carefully studied detail, their strength, and their beauty (qualities so difficult to combine). we believe that the buildings of this great architect and engineer at verona are pre-eminent in their peculiar style over those of any other artist of the sixteenth century. in a different, but no less meritorious, manner are the buildings designed by sansovino; they are characterised by a more sculptural and ornamental character; order over order with large arched voids in the interspaces of the columns producing a pictorial effect which might have led his less gifted followers into a false style, but for the example of the celebrated palladio."--m. d. w. to the latest time of the renaissance in venice belongs the picturesque domed church of st. maria della salute, conspicuous in many views of the grand canal, a building which is a work of real genius in spite of what is considered its false taste. it dates from 1632. the architect is longhena. [illustration: fig. 68.--the church of the redentore, venice. (1576.)] an almost endless series of palaces and houses can be found in venice, all of them rich, but few of great extent, for every foot of space had to be won from the sea by laborious engineering. there are some features which never fail to present themselves, and which are consequences of the conditions under which the structures were designed. all rise from the water, and require to admit of gondolas coming under the walls; hence there is always a principal central entrance with steps in front, but this entrance never has any sort of projecting portico or porch, and is never very much larger than the other openings in the front. as a straight frontage to the water had to be preserved, we hardly ever meet with such a thing as a break or projection of any sort; but the venetian architects have found other means of giving interest to their elevations, and it is to the very restrictions imposed by circumstances that we owe the great originality displayed in their earlier buildings. the churches do not usually front directly on to the water; and though they are almost all good of their kind, they are far more commonplace than the palaces. the system of giving variety to the façade of the secular buildings by massing openings near the centre, has been already referred to. both shadow and richness were also aimed at in the employment of projecting balconies; in fact the two usually go together, for the great central window or group of windows mostly has a large and rich balcony belonging to it. not far from venice is vicenza, and here palladio, whose best buildings in venice are churches, such, for example, as the redentore (fig. 68), enjoyed an opportunity of erecting a whole group of palaces, the fronts of which are extremely remarkable as designs; though, being executed in brick and plastered, they are now falling to ruin. there is much variety in them, and while some of them rely upon his device of lofty pilasters to include two storeys of the building under one storey of architectural treatment, others are handled differently. in all a singularly fine feeling for proportion and for the appropriate omission as well as introduction of ornament is to be detected. the worst defect of these fronts is, however, that they appear more like masks than the exteriors of buildings, for there is little obvious connection between the features of the exterior and anything which we may suppose to exist inside the building. the finest architectural work left behind by palladio in this city are, however, the great arcades with which he surrounded the basilica, a vast building of the middle ages already alluded to. these arcades are two storeys high, and are rich, yet vigorous; they ornament the great structure, the roof of which may be seen rising behind, without overpowering it. milan and pavia. in milan two buildings at least belong to the early renaissance. these are the sacristy of sta. maria presso san satiro, and the eastern portion of the church of sta. maria delle grazie; bramante was the architect of both. the last-named work is an addition to an existing gothic church; it is executed in the terra-cotta and brick of lombardy, materials which the renaissance architects seemed to shun in later times, and is full of the most profuse and elegant ornaments. the design consists of a dome, treated externally a little like some of the lombard domes of earlier date; and three apses forming choir and transepts. it is divided into several stages, and abundantly varied in its panelling and arcading, and is full of vigour. by bramante is also the very beautiful arcaded quadrangle of the great hospital at milan, the gothic front of which has been already noticed. there are many renaissance buildings of later date in milan, but none very remarkable. [illustration: fig. 69.--the certosa near pavia. part of the west front. (begun by borgognone 1473.)] to the early period belongs the design of the façade of the certosa near pavia, part of which is shown (fig. 69). this was begun as early as 1473, by ambrogio borgognone, and was long in hand. it proceeded on the lines settled thus early, and is probably the richest façade belonging to any church in christendom; it is executed entirely in marble. sculpture is employed to adorn every part that is near the eye, and especially the portal, which is flanked by pilasters with their faces panelled and occupied by splendid _alti relievi_. the upper part is enriched by inlays of costly marbles, but the two systems of decoration do not thoroughly harmonise; for the upper half looks coarse, which it in reality is not, in contrast with the delicate richness of the carving near the eye. the great features, such as the entrance, the windows, and the angle pinnacles are thoroughly good, and an arcade of small arches is twice introduced,--once running completely across the front at about half its height, and again near the top of the central portion,--with excellent effect (see frontispiece). genoa, turin, and naples. turning now to genoa we find, as we may in several great cities of italy, that very great success has been achieved by an artist whose works are to be seen in no other city, and whose fame is proportionally restricted. just as the power of luini as a painter can only be fully understood at milan, or that of giulio romano at mantua, so the genius of alessio (1500 to 1572) as an architect can only be understood at genoa. from the designs of this architect were built a series of well planned and imposing palaces. these buildings have most of them the advantage of fine and roomy sites. the fronts are varied, but as a rule consist of a very bold basement, with admirably-treated vigorous mouldings, supporting a lighter superstructure, and in one or two instances flanked by an open arcade at the wings. the entrance gives access, through a vaulted hall, to the cortile, which is usually planned and designed in the most effective manner; and in several instances the state staircase is so combined with this feature that on ascending the first flight the visitor comes to a point of sight for which the whole may be said to have been designed, and from which a splendid composition of columns and arches is seen. the rooms and galleries in these palaces are very fine, and in several instances have been beautifully decorated in fresco by perino del vaga. alessio was also the architect of a large domical church (il carignano) in the same city; but it is far inferior in merit to his series of palaces. genoa also possesses a famous church (the annunziata) of late renaissance, attributed to puget (1622-1694). it is vaulted, and enriched with marbles, mosaics, and colour to such an extent that it may fairly claim to be the most gaudy church in italy, which is unfortunate, as its original undecorated design is fine and simple. turin in the north, and naples in the south, are chiefly remarkable for examples of the latest and more or less debased renaissance, and we therefore do not propose to illustrate or describe any of the buildings in either city. country villas. [illustration: fig. 70.--villa medici--on the pincian hill near rome. by annibale lippi (now the _académie française_). (a.d. 1540.)] as the ancient roman patrician had his villa, which was his country resort, the italian of the revival followed his example, and, if he was wealthy enough, built himself a pleasure house, which he called a villa, either in the immediate suburbs of his city, or at some little distance away in the country. these buildings occur throughout italy. many of them are excellent examples of renaissance architecture of a more modest type than that of the palaces. the villa papa giulio, built from the designs of vignola, and the villa medici, designed by annibale lippi, but attributed, for some unknown reason, to michelangelo, may be mentioned as among the most thoroughly architectural out of some twenty or more splendid villas in the suburbs of rome alone. many of these buildings were erected late in the renaissance period, and are better worth attention for their fine decorations and the many works of art collected within their walls than as architectural studies--but this is not always the case; and as they were mostly designed to serve the purpose of elegant museums rather than that of country houses as we understand the term, they usually possess noble interiors, and exhibit throughout elaborate finish, choice materials, and lavish outlay. [illustration: {early renaissance corbel. from a door in santa maria, venice.}] footnotes: [31] an entablature is the superstructure which ordinarily is carried by a column, and which it is usual to divide into architrave (or beam), frieze, and cornice. [32] an order consists of a column (or pilaster) with its distinctive base and capital, its entablature, and the appropriate decorations. there are five orders, differing in proportions, in the degree of enrichment required, and in the design of the base and capital of the column or pilaster, and of the entablature. [illustration: {ornament by giulio romano.}] chapter xii. renaissance architecture in france and north europe. chronological sketch. the revived classic architecture came direct from italy, and did not reach france till it had been well established in the land of its origin. it was not however received with the same welcome which hailed its appearance in italy. gothic architecture had a strong hold on france, and accordingly, instead of a sudden change, we meet with a period of transition, during which buildings were erected with features partly gothic and partly renaissance, and on varied principles of design. french renaissance underwent great fluctuations, and it is less easy to divide it into broad periods than to refer, as most french writers prefer to do, to the work of each prominent monarch's reign separately. francis the first (1515-1547) made the architecture of italy fashionable in his kingdom, and his name is borne by the beautiful transitional style of his day. this in most cases retains some gothic forms, and the principles of composition are in the main gothic, but the features are mostly of italian origin, though handled with a fineness of detail and a smallness of scale that is not often met with, even in early italian renaissance. there are few buildings more charming in the architecture of any age or country than the best specimens of the style of francis the first, and none that can bear so much decoration and yet remain so little overladen by the ornaments they carry. the finest example is the château of chambord, a large building, nearly square on plan, with round corner towers, capped by simple and very steep roofs, at the angles; and having as its central feature, a large and lofty mass of towers, windows and arcades, surmounted by steep roofs, ending in a kind of huge lantern. the windows have mullions and transoms like gothic windows, but pilasters of elegant renaissance design ornament the walls. the main cornice is a kind of compromise between an italian and a gothic treatment. dormer windows, high and sharply pointed, but with little pilasters and pediments as their ornaments, occur constantly; and the chimneys, which are of immense mass and great height, are panelled profusely, and almost ostentatiously displayed, especially on the central portion. in the interior of the central building is a famous staircase; but the main attractions are the bright and animated appearance of the whole exterior, and the richness and gracefulness of the details. the same architecture is to be well seen in the north side of the famous château of blois--a building parts of which were executed in three different periods of french architecture. the exterior of the _françois premier_ part of blois is irregular, and portions of the design are wildly picturesque; on the side which fronts towards the quadrangle, the architecture is more symmetrically designed, and beauty rather than picturesque effect has been aimed at. an open staircase is the part of the quadrangle upon which most care has been lavished. throughout the whole block of buildings the character of each individual feature and of every combination of features is graceful and _piquant_. the elegance and delicacy of some of the carved decoration in the interior is unsurpassed. [illustration: fig. 71.--window from a house at orleans. (early 16th century.)] in the valley of the loire there exist many noblemen's châteaux of this date, corresponding in general character with chambord and blois, though on a smaller scale. of these chénonceaux, fortunate alike in its design and its situation, is the most elegant and the best known: yet many others exist which approach it closely, such, for example, as the château de gaillon--a fragment of which forms part of the école des beaux arts at paris--the hôtel de ville of beaugency, the châteaux of châteaudun, azay-le-rideau, la cote, and ussé; the hôtel d'anjou at angers, and the house of agnes sorel at orleans. in the streets of orleans houses of this date (fig. 71) are to be found, showing the style cleverly adapted to the requirements of town dwellings and shops. several of them also possess courtyards with arcades or other architectural features treated with great freedom and beauty, for instance, the arcades in the house of _françois premier_ (fig. 72). an arcade in the courtyard of the gothic hôtel de bourgtherould at rouen, is one of the best known examples of the style remaining, and instances of it may be met with as far apart as at caen (east end of church of st. pierre) and toulouse (parts of st. sernin). one paris church, that of st. eustache, belonging to this transitional period claims mention, since for boldness and completeness it is one of the best of any date in that city. st. eustache is a five-aisled church with an apse, transept, and lateral chapels outside the outer aisle. it is vaulted throughout, and its plan and structure are those of a gothic church in all respects. its details are however all renaissance, but not so good as those to be found at blois, nor so appropriately used, yet notwithstanding this it has a singularly impressive interior. [illustration: fig. 72.--capital from the house of francis i., orleans. (1540.)] meantime, and alongside the buildings resulting from this fusion of styles, others which were almost direct importations from italy were rising; in some cases, if not in all, under the direction of italian architects. thus on fontainebleau, which francis i. erected, three or four italian architects, one of whom was vignola, were engaged. it may or may not have been this connection of the great architect with this work which gave him influence in france, but certainly almost the whole of the later french renaissance, or at any rate its good time, was marked by a conformity to the practice of vignola, in whose designs we usually find one order of columns or pilasters for each storey, rather than to that of palladio, whose use of tall columns equalling in height two or more floors of the building has been already noticed. designs for the louvre, the rebuilding of which was commenced in the reign of francis the first (about a.d. 1544), were made by serlio, an italian; and though pierre lescot was the architect of the portion built in that reign, it is probable that the design obtained from serlio was in the main followed. the part then finished, which, to a certain extent gave the keynote to the whole of this vast building, was unquestionably a happy effort, and may be taken to mark the establishment of a french version of matured renaissance architecture. the main building has two orders of pilasters with cornices, &c., and above them a low attic storey, with short piers: at the angles a taller pavilion was introduced, and next the quadrangle arcades are introduced between the pilasters. the sculpture, some of it at least, is from the chisel of jean goujon; it is good and well placed, and the whole has an air of dignity and richness. the _pavillon richelieu_, shewn in our engraving (fig. 73), was not built till the next century. the colossal figures are by barye. a little later in date than the early part of the louvre was the hôtel de ville, built from the designs of pietro da cortona, an italian, and said to have been begun in 1549. the building had been greatly extended before its recent total destruction by fire, but the central part, which was the original portion, was a fine vigorous composition, having two lofty pavilions, with high roofs at the extremities, and a remarkably rich stone lantern of great height for a central feature. [illustration: fig. 73.--pavillon richelieu of the louvre, paris.] in the reign of charles ix. the palace of the tuileries was commenced (1564) for catherine de médicis, from the designs of philibert delorme. of this building, that part only which fronted the garden was erected at the time. our illustration (fig. 74) shows the architectural character of a portion of it, and it is easy to detect that considerable alterations have by this time been introduced into the treatment of the features of renaissance architecture. the bands of rustication passing round the pilasters as well as the walls, the broken pediments on the upper storey, surmounted by figures, and supported by long carved pilasters, and the shape of the dormer windows are all of them quite foreign to renaissance architecture as practised in italy, and may be looked upon as essentially french features. similar details were employed in the work executed at about the same period, by the same and other architects, in other buildings, as may be seen by our illustration (fig. 75) of a portion of delorme's work at the louvre. in these features, which may be found in the château d'anet and other works of the same time, and in the style to which they belong, may be seen the direct result of michelangelo's medici chapel at florence, a work which had much more effect on french than on italian architecture. the full development of the architecture of michelangelo (or rather the ornamental portions of it) is to be found in french renaissance, rather than in the works of his own successors in italy. much of the late sixteenth century architecture of france was very inferior, and the parts of the louvre and tuileries which date from the reign of henry iv. are the least satisfactory portions of those vast piles. [illustration: fig. 74.--part of the tuileries, paris. (begun 1564.)] dating from the early part of the seventeenth century, we have the palais royal built for richelieu, and the palace of the luxembourg, a building perhaps more correct and quiet than original or beautiful, but against which the reproach of extravagant ornament cannot certainly be brought. [illustration: fig. 75.--capital from delorme's work at the louvre. (middle of 16th century.)] with louis the fourteenth (1643 to 1715) came in a great building period, of which the most striking memorial is the vast and uninteresting palace of versailles. the architect was the younger mansard (1647 to 1768), and the vastness of the scale upon which he worked only makes his failure to rise to his grand opportunity the more conspicuous. the absence of features to diversify the sky-line is one of the greatest defects of this building, a defect the less excusable as the high-pitched roof of gothic origin had never been abandoned in france. this roof has been employed with great success in many buildings of the french renaissance. apart from this fault, the architectural features of versailles are so monotonous, weak, and uninteresting that the building, though its size may astonish the spectator, seldom rouses admiration. far better is the eastern block of the louvre (the portion facing the place du louvre), though here also we find the absence of high roofs, and the consequent monotony of the sky-line--a defect attaching to hardly any other portion of the building. bernini was invited from italy for this work, and there is a curious story in one of sir christopher wren's published letters of an interview he had with bernini while the latter was in paris on this business, and of the glimpse which he was allowed to enjoy of the design the italian had made. the building was, however, after all, designed and carried out by perrault, and, though somewhat severe, possesses great beauty and much of that dignity in which versailles is wanting. the best french work of this epoch to be found in or out of paris is probably the hôtel des invalides (fig. 76), with its fine central feature. this is crowned by the most striking dome in paris, one which takes rank as second only in europe to our own st. paul's, for beauty of form and appropriateness of treatment. the two domes are indeed somewhat alike in general outline. the reign of louis xiv. witnessed a large amount of building throughout france, as well as in the metropolis, and to the same period we must refer an enormous amount of lavish decoration in the interior of buildings, the taste of which is to our eyes painfully extravagant. purer taste on the whole prevailed, if not in the reign of louis xv. certainly in that of louis xvi., to which period much really good decorative work, and some successful architecture belongs. the chief building of the latter part of the eighteenth century is the pantheon (ste. geneviève), the best domed church in france, and one which must always take a high rank among renaissance buildings of any age or country. the architect was soufflot, and his ambition, like that of the old gothic masons, was not only to produce a work of art, but a feat of skill; his design accordingly provided a smaller area of walls and piers compared with the total floor space than any other renaissance church, or indeed than any great church, except a few of the very best specimens of late gothic construction, such for example as king's college chapel. the result has been that the fabric has not been quite stout enough to bear the weight of the dome, and that it has required to be tied and propped and strengthened in various ways from time to time. the plan of the pantheon is a greek cross, with a short vestibule, and a noble portico at the west, and a choir corresponding to the vestibule on the east. it has a fine central dome, which is excellently seen from many points of view externally, and forms the principal feature of the very effective interior. each arm of the building is covered by a flat domical vault; a single order of pilasters and columns runs quite round the interior of the church occupying the entire height of the walls; and the light is admitted in a most successful manner by large semicircular windows at the upper part of the church, starting above the cornice of the order. [illustration: fig. 76.--l'église des invalides, paris. by j. h. mansard. (begun a.d. 1645.)] one other work of the eighteenth century challenges the admiration of every visitor to paris and must not be overlooked, because it is at once a specimen of architecture and of that skilful if formal arrangement of streets and public places in combination with buildings which the french have carried so far in the present century. we allude to the two blocks of buildings, occupied as government offices, which front to the place de la concorde and stand at the corner of the rue royale. they are the work of gabriel (1710-1782), and are justly admired as dignified if a little heavy and uninteresting. as specimens of architecture these buildings, with the pantheon, are enough to establish a high character for french art at a time when in most other european countries the standard of taste had fallen to a very low level. the hôtels (_i.e._ town mansions) and châteaux of the french nobility furnish a series of examples, showing the successive styles of almost every part of the renaissance period. the phases of the style, subsequent to that of francis the first, can however, be so well illustrated by public buildings in paris, that it will be hardly necessary to go through a list of private residences however commanding; but the château of maisons, and the royal château of fontainebleau, may be named as specimens of a class of building which shows the capacity of the renaissance style when freely treated. renaissance buildings in france are distinguished by their large extent and the ample space which has been in many instances secured in connection with them. they are rarely of great height or imposing mass like the early italian palaces. for the most part they are a good deal broken up, the surface of the walls is much covered by architectural features, not usually on a large scale, so that the impression of extent which really belongs to them is intensified by the treatment which their architects have adopted. orders are frequently introduced and usually correspond with the storeys of the building. however this may be the storeys are always well marked. the sky-line also is generally picturesque and telling, though versailles and the work of lescot at the louvre form an exception. rustication is not much employed, and the vast but simple crowning cornices of the italian palaces are never made use of. narrow fronts like those at venice, and open arcades or loggias like those of genoa, do not form features of french renaissance buildings; but on the other hand, much richness, and many varieties of treatment which the italians never attempted, were tried, and as a rule successfully, in france. much good sculpture is employed in external enrichments, and a cultivated if often luxuriant taste is always shown. many of the interiors are rich with carving, gilding, and mirrors, but harmonious coloured decoration is rare, and the fine and costly mosaics of italy are almost unknown. belgium and the netherlands. these countries afford but few examples of renaissance. the town hall at antwerp, an interesting building of the sixteenth century, and the church of st. anne at bruges, are the most conspicuous buildings; and there are other churches in the style which are characteristic, and parts of which are really fine. the interiors of some of the town halls display fittings of renaissance character, often rich and fanciful in the extreme, and bearing a general resemblance to french work of the same period. [illustration: fig. 77.--window from colmar. (1575.)] [illustration: fig. 78.--zeughaus, dantzic. (1605.)] germany and northern europe. buildings of pure renaissance architecture, anterior to the nineteenth century, are scarce in germany, or indeed in north-east europe; but a transitional style, resembling our own elizabethan, grew up and long held its ground, so that many picturesque buildings can be met with, of which the design indicates a fusion of the ideas and features of gothic with those of classic art. this architectural style took so strong a hold that examples of it may be found throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in almost every northern town. that part of the castle of heidelberg, which was built at the beginning of the seventeenth century, may be cited as belonging to this german transitional style. the front in this case is regularly divided by pilasters of the classic orders, but very irregular in their proportions and position. the windows are strongly marked, and with carved mullions. large dormer windows break into the high roof; ornaments abound, and the whole presents a curiously blended mixture of the regular and the picturesque. rather earlier in date, and perhaps rather more gothic in their general treatment, are such buildings as the great council hall at rothenberg (1572), that at leipzig (1556), the castle of stuttgart (1553), with its picturesque arcaded quadrangle, or the lofty and elaborate cloth hall at brunswick. [illustration: fig. 79.--council-house at leyden. (1599.)] examples of similar character abound in the old inns of germany and switzerland, and many charming features, such as the window from colmar (fig. 77), dated 1575, which forms one of our illustrations could be brought forward. another development of the same mixed style may be illustrated by the zeug house at dantzic (1605), of which we give the rear elevation (fig. 78). not altogether dissimilar from these in character is the finely-designed castle of fredericksberg at copenhagen, testifying to the wide spread of the phase of architecture to which we are calling attention. the date of this building is 1610. a richer example, but one little if at all nearer to italian feeling, is the council house at leyden, a portion of which we illustrate (fig. 79). this building dates from 1599, and bears more resemblance to english elizabethan in its ornaments, than to the architecture of any other country. simultaneously with these, some buildings made their appearance in germany, which, though still picturesque, showed the dawn of a wish to adopt the features of pure renaissance. the quadrangle of the castle of schalaburg (fig. 80), may be taken as a specimen of the adoption of renaissance ideas as well as forms. it is in effect an italian cortile, though more ornate than italian architects would have made it. it was built in the latter part of the sixteenth century, and seems to point to a wish to make use of the new style with but little admixture of northern ornament or treatment. when architecture had quite passed through the transition period, which fortunately lasted long, the buildings, not only of germany, but of the north generally, became uninteresting and tame; in fact, they present so few distinguishing features, that it is not necessary to describe or illustrate them. russia, it is true, contains a few striking buildings belonging to the eighteenth century, but most of those which we might desire to refer to, were built subsequent to the close of that century. [illustration: fig. 80.--quadrangle of the castle of schalaburg. (late 16th century.)] [illustration: {ornamental foliage pattern.}] chapter xiii. renaissance architecture in great britain, spain, and portugal. england.--chronological sketch. in england, as in france and germany, the introduction of the italian renaissance was not accomplished without a period of transition. the architecture of this period is known as elizabethan, though it lasted long after elizabeth's reign. sometimes it is called tudor; but it is more convenient and not unusual to limit the term tudor to the latest phase of english gothic. probably the earliest introduction into any english building of a feature derived from the newly-revived classic sources is in the tomb of henry vii. in westminster abbey. the grille inclosing this is of good, though late gothic design; but when the tomb itself came to be set up, for which a contract was made with torregiano in 1512, it was italian in its details. the earliest examples of renaissance features actually built into a structure, so far as we are aware, is in the terra-cotta ornamentation of layer marney house in essex, which it is certain was erected prior to 1525. it is however long--surprisingly long--after this period before we come upon the traces of a general use of renaissance details. in fact, up to the accession of elizabeth (1558) they appear to have been little employed. it is however said that early in her reign the treatises on renaissance architecture of philibert de l'orme and lomazzo were translated from italian into english, and in 1563 john shute published a book on italian architecture. john of padua, an italian architect, was brought to this country by henry viii. and practised here; and theodore havenius of cleves was employed as architect in the buildings of caius college, cambridge (1565-1574). these two foreigners undoubtedly played an important part in a change of taste which, though not general so early, certainly did commence before elizabeth's death in 1603. at the two universities, and in many localities throughout england, new buildings and enlargements of old ones were carried out during the long and prosperous reign of elizabeth; and the style in which they were built will be found to have admitted of very great latitude. where the intention was to obtain an effect of dignity or state, the classic principles of composition were more or less followed. the buildings at caius college, cambridge, longleat, built between 1567 and 1579 by john of padua, woollaton, built about 1580 by smithson, and burleigh (built 1577), may be named as instances of this. on the other hand where a manorial or only a domestic character was desired, the main lines of the building are gothic, but the details, in either case, are partly gothic and partly modified renaissance. this description will apply to such buildings as knowle, penshurst, hardwick, hatfield, bramshill, or holland house (fig. 81). in the introductory chapter some account has been given, in general terms, of the features familiar to most and endeared to many, which mark these peculiarly english piles of buildings; those remarks may be appropriately continued here. [illustration: fig. 81.--holland house at kensington. (1607.)] the hall of gothic houses was still retained, but only as one of a series of fine apartments. in many cases english mansions had no internal quadrangle, and are built as large solid blocks with boldly projecting wings. they are often of three storeys in height, the roofs are frequently of flat pitch, and in that case are hidden behind a parapet which is sometimes of fantastic design. where the roofs are steeper and not concealed the gables are frequently of broken outline. windows are usually very large, and with mullions and transoms, and it is to these large openings that elizabethan interiors owe their bright and picturesque effects. entrances are generally adorned with some classic or semi-classic features, often, however, much altered from their original model; here balustrades, ornamental recesses, stone staircases, and similar formal surroundings are commonly found, and are generally arranged with excellent judgment, though often quaint in design. "this style is characterised by a somewhat grotesque application of the ancient orders and ornaments, by large and picturesquely-formed masses, spacious staircases, broad terraces, galleries of great length (at times 100 feet long), orders placed on orders, pyramidal gables formed of scroll-work often pierced, large windows divided by mullions and transoms, bay windows, pierced parapets, angle turrets, and a love of arcades. the principal features in the ornament are pierced scroll-work, strap-work, and prismatic rustication, combined with boldly-carved foliage (usually conventional) and roughly-formed figures."--m. d. w. interiors are bright and with ample space; very richly ornamented plaster ceilings are common; the walls of main rooms are often lined with wainscot panelling, and noble oak staircases are frequent. in the reign of james i., our first renaissance architect of mark, inigo jones (1572-1652) became known. he was a man of taste and genius, and had studied in italy. he executed many works, the designs for which were more or less in the style of palladio. these include the addition of a portico to the (then gothic) cathedral of st. paul's, and a magnificent design for a palace which charles i. desired to build at whitehall. a fragment of this building, now known as the chapel royal whitehall, was erected, and small though it be, has done much by its conspicuous position and great beauty, to keep up a respect for inigo jones's undoubted high attainments as an artist. more fortunate than inigo jones, christopher wren (1632-1723) had just attained a high position as a young man of science, skill, and cultivation, and as the architect of the sheldonian theatre at oxford, when in 1666 the great fire of london destroyed the metropolitan cathedral, the parochial churches, the royal exchange, the companies' halls, and an immense mass of private property in london, and created an opportunity which made great demands upon the energy, skill, and fertility of design of the architect who might attempt to grasp it. fortunately, wren was equal to the occasion, and he has endowed london with a cathedral which takes rank among the very foremost renaissance buildings in europe, as well as a magnificent series of parochial churches, and other public buildings. it is not pretended that his works are free from defects, but there can be no question that admitting anything which can be truly said against them, they are works of artistic genius, full of fresh and original design, and exhibiting rare sagacity in their practical contrivance and construction. st. paul's stands second only to st. peter's as a great domical cathedral of renaissance architecture. it falls far short of its great rival in actual size and internal effect, and is all but entirely devoid of that decoration in which st. peter's is so rich. on the other hand, the exterior of st. paul's (fig. 82) is far finer, and as the english cathedral had the good fortune to be erected entirely from the plans and under the supervision of one architect, it is a building consistent with itself throughout, which, as we have seen, is more than can be said of st. peter's. the plan of st. paul's is a latin cross, with well marked transepts, a large portico, and two towers at the western entrance; an apse of small size forms the end of the eastern arm, and of each of the transepts; a great dome covers the crossing; the cathedral has a crypt raising the main floor considerably, and its side walls are carried high above the aisle roofs so as to hide the clerestory windows from sight. the dome is very cleverly planted on eight piers instead of four at the crossing, and is a triple structure; for between the dome seen from within, and the much higher dome seen from without, a strong cone of brickwork rises which bears the weight of the stone lantern and ball and cross that surmount the whole. the skill with which the dome is made the central feature of a pyramidal composition whatever be the point of view, the great beauty of the circular colonnade immediately below the dome, the elegant outline of the western towers, and the unusual but successful distribution of the great portico, are among the most noteworthy elements which go to make up the charm of this very successful exterior. [illustration: fig. 82.--st. paul's cathedral, london. (1675-1710.)] wren may be said to have introduced to renaissance architecture the tower and spire, for though many examples occur in spain, there is reason to suppose that he was before the architects of that country in his employment of that feature. he has enriched the city of london with a large number of steeples, which are gothic so far as their general idea goes, but thoroughly classic in details, and all more or less distinctive. the most famous of these is the one belonging to bow church; others of note belong to st. clement danes and st. bride, fleet street. the interiors of some of these churches, as for example st. stephen, walbrook, st. andrew, holborn, and st. james, piccadilly, are excellent both for their good design and artistic treatment, and for their being well contrived and arranged for the special purposes they were intended to fill. wren's secular works were considerable. the sheldonian theatre at oxford, the library of trinity college, cambridge, and the theatre of the college of physicians london (long since disused), are a group of special buildings each of which was undoubtedly a remarkable and successful work. chelsea and greenwich hospitals are noteworthy as among the first specimens of those great buildings for public purposes in which england is now so rich, and which to a certain extent replace the monastic establishments of the middle ages. at chelsea the building is simple and dignified. without lavish outlay, or the use of expensive materials, much ornament, or any extraneous features, an artistic and telling effect has been produced, such as few hospitals or asylums since built have equalled. greenwich takes a higher level, and though wren's work had the disadvantage of having to be accommodated to buildings already erected by another architect, this building, with its twin domes, its rich outline, and its noble and dignified masses, will always reflect honour upon its designer. the view of greenwich hospital from the river may fairly be said to be unique for beauty and picturesqueness. at greenwich, too, we meet with some of that skill in associating buildings and open spaces together which is so much more common in france than in this country, and by the exercise of which the architecture of a good building can be in so many ways set off. wren, like inigo jones, has left behind him a great unexecuted design which in many respects is more noble than anything that he actually built. this is his earlier design for st. paul's cathedral, which he planned as a greek cross, with an ampler dome than the present cathedral possesses, but not so lofty. a large model of this design exists. had it been carried out the exterior of the building would probably not have appeared so commanding, perhaps not so graceful, as it actually is; but the interior would have surpassed all the churches of the style in europe, both by the grandeur of the vast arched space under the dome and by the intricacy and beauty of the various vistas and combinations of features, for which its admirably-designed plan makes provision. wren had retired from practice before his death in 1723. his immediate successors were hawksmoor, whose works were heavy and uninteresting, and sir james vanbrugh. vanbrugh was a man of genius and has a style of his own, "bold, original, and pictorial." his greatest and best work is blenheim, in oxfordshire, built for the duke of marlborough. this fine mansion, equal to any french château in extent and magnificence, is planned with much dignity. the entrance front looks towards a large space, inclosed right and left by low buildings, which prolong the wings of the main block. the angles of the wings and the centre are masked by two colonnades of quadrant shape, and the central entrance with lofty columns which form a grand portico, is a noble composition. the three garden fronts of blenheim are all fine, and there is a magnificent entrance hall, but the most successful part of the interior is the library, a long and lofty gallery, occupying the entire flank of the house and treated with the most picturesque variety both of plan and ornament. vanbrugh also built castle howard, grimesthorpe, wentworth, king's weston, as well as many other country mansions of more moderate size. campbell, kent, and gibbs are the best known names next in succession. of these campbell is most famous as an author, but gibbs (1674-1754) is the architect of two prominent london churches--st. martin's and st. mary le strand, in which the general traditions of wren's manner are ably followed. he was the architect of the radcliffe library at oxford. kent (1684-1748) was the architect of holkham, the treasury buildings, and the horse guards. he was associated with the earl of burlington, who acquired a high reputation as an amateur architect, which the design of burlington house (now remodelled for the royal academy), went far to justify. probably the technical part of this and other designs was supplied by kent. sir william chambers (1726-1796) was the architect of somerset house, a building of no small merit, notwithstanding that it is tame and very bare of sculpture. this building is remarkable as one of the few in london in which the italian feature of an interior quadrangle is attempted to be reproduced. chambers wrote a treatise which has become a general text-book of revived classical architecture for english students. contemporary with him were the brothers john and robert adam, who built much, and began to introduce a severity of treatment and a fineness of detail which correspond to some extent to the french style of louis xvi. the interior decorations in plaster by these architects are of great elegance and often found in old houses in london, as in hanover square, on the adelphi terrace, and elsewhere. the list of the eighteenth century architects closes with the names of sir robert taylor and the two dances, one of whom built the mansion house and the other newgate; and stuart, who built several country mansions, but who is best known for the magnificent work on the antiquities of athens, which he and revett published together in 1762, and which went far to create a revolution in public taste; for before the close of the century there was a general cry for making every building and every ornamental detail purely and solely greek. the architects above named, and others of less note were much employed during the eighteenth century in the erection of large country houses of italian, usually palladian design, many of them extremely incongruous and unsatisfactory. here and there a design better than the average was obtained, but as a rule these stately but cold buildings are very far inferior to the picturesque and home-like manors and mansions built during the reigns of elizabeth and james i. [illustration: fig. 83.--houses at chester. (16th century.)] it is worth notice that the picturesque element, inherited from the gothic architecture of the middle ages, which before the eighteenth century had completely vanished from our public buildings, and the mansions of the wealthy did not entirely die out of works executed in remote places. in the half-timbered manors and farmhouses which abound in lancashire, cheshire, shropshire, and staffordshire, and in other minor works, we always find a tinge, sometimes a very full colouring, of the picturesque and the irregular; the gables are sharp, upper storeys overhang, and the treatment of the timbers is thoroughly gothic (fig. 83); so are the mouldings, transoms and mullions to the windows, and barge boards to the roofs. in the reign of james i. a mode of enriching the exteriors of dwelling-houses, as well as their ceilings, chimney-pieces, &c., with ornaments modelled in plaster came in, and though the remaining specimens are from year to year disappearing, yet in some old towns (_e.g._ in ipswich) examples of this sort of treatment (known as jacobean) still linger. in queen anne's reign a semi-gothic version of renaissance architecture was practised, to which great attention has been directed in the present day. the queen anne style is usually carried out in brickwork, executed in red bricks and often most admirable in its workmanship. pilasters, cornices, and panels are executed in cut bricks, and for arches, niches, and window heads very finely jointed bricks are employed. the details are usually renaissance, but of debased character; a crowning cornice of considerable projection under a high-pitched hipped roof (_i.e._ one sloping back every way like a truncated pyramid) is commonly employed; so also are gables of broken outline. dormer windows rich and picturesque, and high brick chimneys are also employed; so are bow windows, often carried on concave corbels of a clumsy form. prominence is given in this style to the joiner's work; the windows, which are usually sash windows, are heavily moulded and divided into small squares by wooded sash bars. the doors have heavily moulded panels, and are often surmounted by pediments carried by carved brackets or by pilasters; in the interiors the woodwork of staircases such as the balusters, newel posts, and handrails is treated in a very effective and well considered way, the greater part of the work being turned on the lathe and enriched with mouldings extremely well designed for execution in that manner. by this style and the modifications of it which were more or less practised till they finally died out, the traditional picturesqueness of english architecture which it had inherited from the middle ages was kept alive, so that it has been handed down, in certain localities almost, if not quite, to the present century. scotland. the architecture of scotland during the sixteenth and succeeding centuries possesses exceptional interest. it was the case here, as it had been in england, that the most important buildings of the time were domestic; the erection of churches and monasteries had ceased. the castles and semi-fortified houses of scotland form a group apart, possessing strongly-marked and well-defined character; they are designed in a mixed style in which the gothic elements predominated over the classic ones. but the scottish domestic gothic, from which the new style was partly derived, had borne little or no resemblance to the florid tudor of england. it was the severe and simple architecture of strongholds built with stubborn materials, and on rocky sites, where there was little inducement to indulge in decoration. dunstaffnage or kilchurn castles may be referred to as examples of these plain, gloomy keeps with their stepped gables, small loops for windows, and sometimes angle turrets. the classic elements of the style were not drawn (as had been the case in england) direct from italy, but came from france. the scotch, during their long struggles with the english, became intimately allied with the french, and it is therefore not surprising that scottish baronial architecture should resemble the early renaissance of french châteaux very closely. the hardness of the stone in which the scotch masons wrought forbade their attempting the extremely delicate detail of the françois i. ornament, executed as it is in fine, easily-worked stone of smooth texture; and the difference in the climate of the two countries justified in scotland a boldness which would have appeared exaggerated and extreme in france. accordingly the style in passing from one country to the other has changed its details to no inconsiderable extent. many castles were erected in the sixteenth and following centuries in scotland, or were enlarged and altered; the most characteristic features in almost all of them are short round angle turrets, thrown out upon bold corbellings near the upper part of towers and other square masses. these are often capped by pointed roofs; and the corbels which carry them, and which are always of bold, vigorous character, are frequently enriched by a kind of cable ornament, which is very distinctive. towers of circular plan, like bastions, and projecting from the general line of the walls, or at the angles, constantly occur. they are frequently crowned by conical roofs, but sometimes (as at fyvie castle) they are made square near the top by means of a series of corbels, and finished with gables or otherwise. parapets are in general use, and are almost always battlemented. roofs, when visible, are of steep pitch, and their gables are almost always of stepped outline, while dormer windows, frequently of fantastic form, are not infrequent. chimneys are prominent and lofty. windows are square-headed, and, as a rule, small; sometimes they retain the gothic mullions and transom, but in many cases these features are absent. doorways are generally arched, and not often highly ornamented. cawdor castle, glamis castle, fyvie castle, castle fraser, the old portions of dunrobin castle, tyninghame house, the extremely picturesque palace at falkland, and a considerable part of stirling castle, may be all quoted as good specimens of this thoroughly national style, but it would be easy to name two or three times as many buildings nearly, if not quite, equal to these in architectural merit. heriot's hospital, edinburgh, may be quoted (with part of holyrood palace) as showing the style of the seventeenth century. heriot's hospital was built between the years 1628 and 1660. it is built round a great quadrangle, and has square towers at the four corners, each relieved by small corbelled angle turrets. the entrance displays columns and an entablature of debased but not unpleasing renaissance architecture, and the building altogether resembles an english elizabethan or jacobean building to a greater extent than most scottish designs. when this picturesque style, which appears indeed to have retained its hold for long, at last died out, very little of any artistic value was substituted for it. late in the eighteenth century, it is true, the brothers adam erected public buildings in edinburgh and glasgow, and carried out various works of importance in a classic style which has certainly some claim to respect; but if correct it was tame and uninteresting, and a poor exchange for the vigorous vitality which breathes in the works of the architects of the early renaissance in scotland. spain and portugal. in the spanish peninsula, renaissance architecture ran through three phases, very strongly distinguished from one another, each being marked by peculiarities of more than ordinary prominence. the early stage, to which the spaniards give the name of plateresco, exhibits the same sort of fusion of gothic with classic which we find in france and scotland. the masses are often simple, but the individual features are overladen with an extravagant amount of ornament, and, as in france, many things which are essentially gothic, such as pinnacles, gargoyles, and parapets, are retained. the renaissance style was introduced at the latter part of the fifteenth century, and a very considerable number of buildings to which the description given above will apply were erected prior to the middle of the sixteenth. among these may be enumerated the cathedral at granada, the hospital of santa cruz at toledo (1504-1514), the dome of burgos cathedral (1567), the cathedral of malaga, san juan della penitencia at toledo (1511), the façade of the alcazar at toledo (1548), the town hall (1551), and casa zaporta (1560) at zarragoza, and the town hall of seville (1559). a great number of tombs, staircases, doorways, and other smaller single features, executed during this period from the designs of good artists, are to be found scattered through the country. "these renaissance monuments exhibit an extraordinary degree of variety in their ornaments, which are of the most fantastic nature; an exuberant fancy would seem to have sought a vent, especially in the sculptured ornament of the style, which though at times crowded, overladen, and we must add disfigured by the most grotesque ideas, is very striking for its originality and excellent workmanship."--(m. d. w.) [illustration: fig. 84.--the alcazar at toledo. (begun 1568.)] the second phase of spanish architecture was marked by a plain and simple dignity, equally in contrast with the plateresco which had preceded it and with the extravagant style to which it at length gave place. the earliest architect who introduced into spain an architectural style founded on the best examples of italy, was juan baptista de toledo. he in the year 1563 commenced the escurial palace--the versailles of spain; but the principal part of the building was erected by his more celebrated pupil, juan de herrera, who carried on the works during the years from 1567 to 1579. this building, one of the most extensive palaces in europe, is noble in its external aspect from a distance, thanks to its great extent, its fine central dome, and its many towers, but it is disappointing when approached. of the interior the most noteworthy feature is a magnificently decorated church, of great size and unusual arrangement; and this dignified central feature has raised the escurial, in spite of many faults, to the position of the most famous and probably most deservedly admired among the great renaissance palaces of europe. by the same architect numerous buildings were erected, among others the beautiful, if somewhat cold, arcaded interior of the alcazar of toledo (fig. 84), which may be taken as a fair specimen of the noble qualities to be found in his dignified and comparatively simple designs. about the middle of the sixteenth century charles v. erected his palace at granada; but here the architecture is strongly coloured by italian or french examples, and much of the building resembles perrault's work at the louvre very closely. herrera and his school were probably too severe in taste to suit the fancy of their countrymen, for spanish architecture in the eighteenth century fell a victim to debased forms and a fantastic and exaggerated style of ornament. churriguera was the architect who has the credit of having introduced this unfortunate third manner, and has lent it his name. for a time "churriguerismo" found general acceptance, and the century closed under its influence. we must not pass over the excellent and varied renaissance towers and steeples of spain in silence. they are not unlike wren's spires in general idea; they are to be met with in many parts of the country attached to the churches, and their variety and picturesqueness increase the claim of spanish architecture to our respect. * * * * * the one renaissance building in portugal which has been much illustrated, and is spoken of in high terms, is the convent at mafra, a building of the eighteenth century, of great extent and picturesque effect. great skill is shown in dealing with the unwieldy bulk of an overgrown establishment which does not yield even to the escurial in point of extent. we are, however, up to the present time without the means of forming an opinion upon the nature and value of the architecture of portugal as a whole. [illustration: {ornamental foliage pattern.}] [illustration: {from a frieze at venice.}] index. _see also contents at beginning._ adam, john and robert, 223. alberti, _architect_, 167. amiens cathedral, 76, 78. andernach, church at, 96. anne, queen, style of, 225. arnstein abbey, 94. baptista, _architect_, 232. batalha, monastery at, 142, 153. beauvais cathedral, _interior_, 86. belgium and netherlands, _gothic_, 87. ---_renaissance_, 206. bernini, _architect_, 175, 181, 203. blenheim, 221. blois, château of, 194. blois, capital from st. nicholas, 84. bourges, house of jaques coeur, 15. bramante, _architect_, 168, 174, 180. brunelleschi, _architect_, 120, 166. buttresses, 32. caen, saint pierre at, 37. cambridge, king's college, 63. campaniles in italy, 128. capitals, gothic, 43. certosa, near pavia, _frontispiece_, 183. chambers, _architect_, 222. chambord, château of, 194. chartres, stained glass at, 65, 69. chester, old houses at, 38, 224. churriguera, _architect_, 230. colmar, window at, 206. cologne cathedral, 97, 104. columns and piers, 40. cortona, pietro da, _architect_, 198. cremona, palace at, 117. dantzic, zeughaus at, 203. de caumont. _abécédaire_, 71. decorated style of architecture, 24. delorme, _architect_, 200, 214. domestic buildings, _gothic_, 14. early english architecture, 24. eltham palace, roof of, 53. england, gothic architecture in, 21. ---renaissance in, 213. florence, cathedral at, 121. ---pandolfini palace, 170, 173. ---riccardi palace, 167. ---strozzi palace, 169. fontevrault, church at, 70. france, gothic architecture in, 69. ---renaissance in, 193. francis the first of france, 193. friburg cathedral, 98. gables in gothic architecture, 36. germany, gothic architecture in, 93. ---renaissance, 209. ghent, tower at, 90. gibbs, _architect_, 222. giotto's campanile at florence, 120. gothic, the word, 5. goujon, jean, _sculptor_, 198. haddon hall, 17. havenius of cleves, _architect_, 214. hawksmoor, _architect_, 221. heidelberg, castle of, 156, 209. herrera, juan de, _architect_, 217. holland house, 215. italy, gothic architecture in, 112. ---renaissance in, 165. john of padua, _architect_, 214. jones, inigo, _architect_, 217. kent, _architect_, 222. kuttenberg, st. barbara at, 99. lescot, _architect_, 198. leyden, council-house at, 210. lichfield cathedral, west door, 5. lincoln cathedral, general view, 35. lippi annibale, _architect_, 192. lisieux, old houses at, 41. loches, doorway at, 72. london, st. paul's cathedral, 218. maderno, _architect_, 175, 181. mafra, convent at, 232. mansard, _architect_, 160. michelangelo _as an architect_, 170, 174. michelozzo, _architect_, 167. middleburgh, town hall at, 89. milan cathedral, 115. misereres in wells cathedral, 68, 92. mouldings, gothic, 62. nuremberg, st. sebald's at, 109. oakham, decorated spire of, 60. ogee-shaped arch, 129. oppenheim, st. catherine at, 107. orleans, capital from house at, 197. orleans, window at, 196. pavia, certosa, near, 114, 188. palladio, _architect_, 172, 184, 187. paris, cathedral of notre dame, 74. ---hôtel des invalides at, 205. ---louvre, capital from, 202. ---louvre, pavillon richelieu, 199. ---pantheon at, 204. ---tuileries, by delorme, 200. perpendicular architecture, 25. peruzzi, _architect_, 181. peterborough cathedral, plan, 6. pisano, nicola, _sculptor_, 120. plateresco, _spanish_, 230. principles of gothic design, 146. raphael _as an architect_, 170. renaissance architecture, 154. regensburg (ratisbon), well at, 20. rheims cathedral, piers, 80. rome, monument in santa maria del popolo, 179. rome, palazzo giraud, 178, 180. ---st. peter's, 174, 177. ---villa medici, 191. saint gall manuscript, the, 13. salisbury cathedral, section, 7. saint iago di compostella, 137. sangallo, _architect_, 181. sansovino, _architect_, 178, 184. scamozzi, _architect_, 184. scotland, cawdor castle, 227. ---dunrobin castle, 228. ---heriot's hospital, 228. schalaburg, castle of, 212. schwartz-rheindorff, church at, 101. serlio, _architect_, 198. seville, the giralda at, 140. siena cathedral, 123. spain, gothic architecture in, 137. ---renaissance in, 228. spires, 58. stained glass, 64. strasburg cathedral, 98. thann, doorway at, 106. tivoli, window from, 134. toledo, alcazar at, 232. ---cathedral, 138. towers and spires, 33. tracery, venetian, 130. tudor architecture, 25. vanbrugh, _architect_, 221. venice, 182. venice, church of redentore, 186. ---ducal palace at, 118. ---palaces on grand canal, 18. vienna, st. stephen at, 98. vignola, _architect_, 172, 181, 182. warboys, early english spire, 59. warwick castle, plan, 16. wells cathedral, nave, 9. westminster abbey, plan, 11. westminster abbey, carving, 67. ---henry vii.'s chapel, 57. ---triforium, 49. windows, 46, 47, 48, 50, 51. window, italian gothic, 134, 136. worcester cathedral, choir, 9. wren, sir c., _architect_, 203, 217, 220. london: r. clay, sons, and taylor. _now in course of publication._ a new series of illustrated text-books of art education, edited by edward j. poynter, r.a. each volume contains numerous illustrations, and is strongly bound for the use of students. price 5_s._ _to be issued in the following divisions:--_ _painting._ * classic and italian. by edward j. poynter, r.a., and percy r. head, lincoln college, oxford. german, flemish, and dutch. by h. wilmot buxton, m.a. french and spanish. by gerard smith, exeter college, oxford. english and american. by h. wilmot buxton, m.a. _architecture._ classic and early christian. by t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. * gothic and renaissance. by t. roger smith, f.r.i.b.a. _sculpture._ antique: egyptian and greek. by george redford, f.r.c.s. renaissance and modern. by george redford, f.r.c.s. _ornament._ decoration in colour. by george aitchison, m.a. architectural ornament. with numerous illustrations. * _these divisions are now ready._ transcriber's note minor punctuation errors have been repaired. hyphenation and accent usage has been made consistent. spelling was made consistent as follows: page xxxvii--transome amended to transom--"transom.--a horizontal bar (usually of stone) ..." page xl--hardwicke amended to hardwick--"the end-papers are from a tapestry in hardwick hall." page 198--di amended to da--"... built from the designs of pietro da cortona, ..." page 217--transomes amended to transoms--"... and with mullions and transoms, ..." page 217--transomes amended to transoms--"... large windows divided by mullions and transoms, ..." page 224--cotemporary amended to contemporary--"contemporary with him were the brothers john and robert adam, ..." page 226--transomes amended to transoms--"... so are the mouldings, transoms and mullions to the windows, ..." page 236--middleburg amended to middleburgh--"middleburgh, town hall at, 89." page 236--nícolo amended to nicola--"pisano, nicola, _sculptor_, 120." page 236--strassburg amended to strasburg--"strasburg cathedral, 98." page 236--van brugh amended to vanbrugh--"vanbrugh, _architect_, 221." the following amendments have been made: page x--omitted page number added--"3. scotland, wales, and ireland 91" page xxiv--frize amended to frieze--"... the architrave, which rests on the columns, the frieze and the cornice." page xxiv--the entry for entablature originally followed embattled. it has been moved to the correct place in the glossary. page xxv--styl amended to style--"françois i. style.--the early renaissance architecture of france during part of the sixteenth century." page xxvii--lintol amended to lintel--"lintel.--the stone or beam covering a doorway ..." page 12--arrangment amended to arrangement--"the whole arrangement of pier and arch ..." page 25--ierced amended to pierced--"parapet pierced with quatrefoils and flowing tracery." page 30--repeated 'and' deleted--"... gothic dwelling-houses of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries exist, ..." page 36--constrast amended to contrast--"... is to combine and yet contrast its horizontal and vertical elements." page 39--storys amended to storeys--"... and sometimes also the basement storeys, ..." page 46--and amended to end--"... occupying the eastern end of one of the transepts ..." page 82--semi-circula amended to semicircular--"... and the roofs of semicircular and circular apses, ..." page 88--achitecture amended to architecture--"... their architecture, though certainly gothic, is debased in style." page 114--laboration amended to elaboration--"... remarkable specimens of the ornamental elaboration which can be accomplished in brickwork." page 142--ths amended to the--"the great church at batalha ..." page 159--omitted 'the' added before building--"... in his treatment of the same part of the building ..." page 176--repeated 'is' deleted--"... as long as the building is seen in front ..." page 186--builing amended to building--"... lofty pilasters to include two storeys of the building ..." page 194--first amended to first--"...than the best specimens of the style of francis the first ..." page 226--82 amended to 83--"... the treatment of the timbers is thoroughly gothic (fig. 83); ..." page 230--archiect amended to architect--"the earliest architect who introduced into spain an architectural style ..." page 233--picuresque amended to picturesque--"... a building of the eighteenth century, of great extent and picturesque effect." page 235--page references put into numerical order--"brunelleschi, _architect_, 120, 166." page 235--137 amended to 173--"florence ... ---pandolfini palace, 170, 173." page 235--omitted 7 added--"haddon hall, 17." illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. there was an error in the list of illustrations. the original read: 66. palazzo giraud, rome. by bramante. (1506.) 180 67. the church of st. francesco, at ferrara. interior 183 68. italian shell ornament 184 69. the church of the redentore, venice. (1576.) 186 70. certosa near pavia. part of west front. (begun 1473.) 189 70a. early renaissance corbel 192 71. window from a house at orleans. (early 16th century.) 195 the listed fig. 67 does not appear anywhere in the text. the list of illustrations has been amended to accurately list the figures in the main body of the book, by removing the erroneous listing, renumbering the figures as necessary, including a previously omitted figure, fig. 70.--villa medici--on the pincian hill near rome. by annibale lippi (now the _académie française_). (a.d. 1540.), and amending the page numbers. the advertising material has been moved to the end of the book. the guild library "all the manuals are fine examples of careful workmanship and scholarly industry."--"independent and nonconformist," 17th august 1896. 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[_in the press._ * * * * * scottish cathedrals and abbeys [illustration: _from photo by t. & r. annan & sons._ glasgow cathedral.] scottish cathedrals and abbeys by rev. d. butler, m.a. abernethy, perthshire author of 'the ancient church and parish of abernethy,' 'john wesley and george whitefield in scotland,' 'henry scougal and the oxford methodists' with introduction by the very rev. r. herbert story, d.d., ll.d. principal of the university of glasgow london: a. & c. black, soho square edinburgh: r. & r. clark, limited publication agents for the church of scotland 1901 preface in preparation for this guild book i wrote an account of every pre-reformation structure in scotland of which any remains now survive, but the prescribed limits of the series necessitated a selection. the scottish cathedrals are all here treated, with representative collegiate and monastic buildings. reference is also made to parish churches that represent the architecture of the various periods indicated in chapter ii. a survey of scottish mediæval architecture will be found in pp. 194-206 that may enable readers to take a comprehensive view of the whole. a study of those treated in particular will lead to a study of those treated of necessity in general, and illustrate the idea that the history of the scottish church is the history of the ideality and faith of the scottish people, and that the one cannot be separated from the other. a healthy present must always be bound by a natural piety to the past that has made it, or at least helped it to be what it is, and this study may enable readers to realise more that the church of scotland has a great and glorious past that begins with the days of st. ninian and st. columba. the past has much to teach the present, and the narrative of historical facts is not without suggestiveness to the varied life and work that characterise the church of scotland to-day. i desire to express my indebtedness to the investigations of many workers, which i have striven to recognise in the many references throughout the work, but most of all i am indebted to messrs. macgibbon and ross in their colossal work, the _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_--a book of national importance. d. b. manse of abernethy, perthshire, _14th january 1901_. contents glasgow cathedral _frontispiece_ page introduction ix chap. 1. relation of celtic church to roman catholic church 1 2. scottish architecture 4 norman architecture 7 transition style 8 first pointed period 9 middle pointed period 10 late pointed period 11 3. cathedrals- st. andrews 13 glasgow 22 dunkeld 35 aberdeen 37 moray 40 brechin 44 dunblane 47 ross 52 caithness 54 galloway 56 lismore 59 isles 60 (kirkwall) orkney 69 4. collegiate churches- introduction 76 biggar 77 bothwell 77 st. nicholas (new aberdeen) 78 king's college (old aberdeen) 80 roslin 85 chapel royal (stirling) 88 st. giles' (edinburgh) 89 st. mary's and st. salvator's (st. andrews) 102 5. scottish norman parish churches- dalmeny 102 leuchars 104 middle pointed- linlithgow 105 haddington 107 late pointed- st. john's (perth) 108 dundee 113 stirling 114 st. leonard (st. andrews) 116 holy trinity 117 6. scottish monasticism 119 st. andrew's priory (augustinian) 123 holyrood abbey " 124 jedburgh " " 129 dryburgh " (praemonstratensian) 134 dunfermline " (benedictine) 139 paisley " (cluniacensian) 148 kelso " (tyronensian) 169 arbroath " " 177 melrose " (cistercian) 184 7. general survey of scottish medieval architecture- norman 194 transition style 197 first pointed period 198 middle pointed period 201 late pointed period 203 appendix-definition of leading architectural terms 209 introduction this book is designed to render to scottish churchmen the special service of presenting to them, in a brief but comprehensive survey, the record of their ecclesiastical history which is engraved in their ecclesiastical architecture. there is no record so authentic as that which is built in stone. there is none so sacred as that which attests and illustrates the religion of our forefathers. much of that record has perished: enough remains to engage our reverent study and our dutiful care. foreign war and rapine have wasted and destroyed our heritage of sacred places. kelso, jedburgh, melrose, and haddington fell before the english invader. iona was ravaged by the dane, while yet the island formed part of a scandinavian diocese. internal lawlessness and tribal fury have wrought like disasters. elgin, once "the fair glory of the land," stands a forlorn monument of the savagery of a highland chief. st. andrews, lindores, perth, paisley, and many others bear witness to the reckless outrage which cloaked its violence under the guise of religious zeal. of all our spoilers this has been the most destructive. the pretence (for it often was nothing else) of "cleansing the sanctuary" not only robbed the church of many a priceless possession, but begat, in the popular mind, a ruthless disregard of the sacred associations of places where generation after generation had worshipped god, and a coarse indifference to the solemnity of his ordinances, which made it easy for those who should have been the guardians of the churches to let them fall, unheeded, into decay. it is not uncommon, even yet, to find people who ought to know, and perhaps do know, better, blaming knox and his co-reformers for the dilapidation and desecration of our ancient fanes. the blame belongs to the "rascal multitude," and to the rapacious laymen who were served heirs to the properties of the despoiled church. what is the church the better for their enrichment? what has religion gained by it? the reformed faith could have flourished none the less graciously if its purified doctrine had been preached, and its reasonable worship offered, under the same roofs that had protected priest and people in the days of romanist error. is the cause of pure and undefiled religion stronger in the land because melrose and crossraguel and pluscarden are desolate; st. andrews a roofless ruin; iona as yet open to the atlantic winds? is the voice of praise and prayer sweeter in the north because mortlach is effaced and fortrose shattered, and the bells are silent which men on the mainland used to hear when the north wind blew from kirkwall? granted that ignorant superstition may have tainted the veneration in which our fathers' holy and beautiful houses were held 400 years ago, the iconoclasm which devastated them was not the remedy for it. the revived interest in our old churches, which has asserted its influence in such restorations as those of st. giles, dunblane, linlithgow, st. vigeans, and arbuthnott, is no revival of superstition. it is the outcome of a more reverent spirit; of a deeper sense of the honour due to god; of the conviction that we owe him, in all that pertains to his worship, the offering of our very best; and of a deeper consciousness also of the supreme value of the church's national position and character, and of the duty of piously conserving whatever helps to illustrate the historical continuity which binds its present to its past. as regards this, nothing is so full of helpful stimulus as an intelligent study of our ecclesiastical architecture. in it we can read the lessons of the gradual growth of the scottish nation from the loosely connected tribal conditions of the ninth and tenth centuries onwards to its consolidation under a settled monarchy; the development of its commercial and industrial progress; its expanding relations to the peoples of the continent; and the vital changes in its political life, and its religious system and belief, thence resulting. all these have left their mark in those records which neither time nor revolution, neglect nor violence, have been able wholly to destroy--the architecture of our cathedrals, abbeys, and monasteries. the primitive buildings of the early celtic period of the church have long since disappeared. their clay and wattles could not withstand the wear and tear of time; only in a distant glen or lonely island can we discover scattered traces of the beehive cell or simple shrine of the anchorite or missionary. few relics of the more substantial structures of that time survive. the roman era of church organisation superseded the celtic; and with the roman dominance came the architecture of the anglo-normans, whom the presence and policy of margaret, saint and queen, attracted to scotland. it developed itself, always with some national characteristics of its own, until the war of independence broke off all friendly intercourse with england. later came, in place of alliance with england, the alliance with france, which lasted till the reformation, and left its mark on many of the pages of "the great stone book," which chronicle for us the vicissitudes of the past, the days of peace and prosperity, of war and penury, of reviving national health and energy, of new combinations and ideas in politics and statecraft, of spiritual decay and carnal pride and ostentation. these annals can be deciphered by the patient student of the walls and cloisters of the ancient churches and religious houses. to the founders and the owners of the latter, and chiefly to the great orders of the augustinians, the benedictines, and the cistercians, we owe many of our noblest remnants of the past--all of them unhappily ruined; for the popular violence of the sixteenth century raged more fiercely against the monasteries than against the cathedrals. to the episcopal system of government, introduced under margaret, we owe the bishops' churches or cathedrals. the life and thought of the church at the present day, move far enough apart from either prelacy or monasticism to allow us to look at each with an impartial eye, and to consider whether in its abolition we have parted with aught that it would have profited the church to retain. the monasteries, at first the homes and shelters of charity and learning, had, before the sixteenth century, waxed fat with unduly accumulated wealth, become enervated with luxury and corrupt through bad government. they were swept away, their possessions secularised, and their communities broken up. but with them disappeared two things which were of great price: a large and liberal provision for the poor, and a comprehensive scheme of education. the monastery gate was never shut against the suffering and the needy. the monks were indulgent landlords and kind neighbours; the sick benefited by their medical skill; the indigent could always look to them for eleemosynary aid; the houseless wanderer was never sent empty away. those great centres of friendly helpfulness and charity were planted all over the land. no doubt the gift of indiscriminate alms to every applicant would tend to abuse and lazy beggary; but a scheme of sympathetic and well directed aid thoughtfully administered would not. _abusus non tollit usum._ the scandals of the monasteries did not justify the robbery of the destitute for the benefit of the secular supplanters of the monks. the kirk-sessions of the reformed kirk did their best to take the place of the former guardians and kindly benefactors of the poor, but their funds were scanty; the old wealth had fallen into tenacious hands; and schism and sectarianism finally necessitated the transfer of the care of the poor from the church to the state. could the ancient system have been reformed and not destroyed, the poverty of the country would have been less grievous than it is to-day; the church's relation to the poor more intimate; and the method of relief pleasanter to the recipients than that which makes them familiar with the grim charity of the poor's house, the inspector, and the parochial board. the monasteries were the seats of a general system of higher education. the burghs had their own independent seminaries; the "song schools" were more closely connected with the churches in town and in country; but the highest grade of education was found in the monasteries. before the foundation of any of the universities they supplied the place both of secondary school and university, and trained the youth, especially of the higher ranks, until prepared to go out into the world, as they constantly did, speaking the "lingua-franca" of all scholars, and carrying scottish energy, genius, and scholarship into the halls and cloisters of many a college and many a monastery, from coimbra to cracow, from salerno to upsala. these schools all perished with the downfall of the monasteries; and consequently we cannot, to this day, cope with the great public schools of england, or adequately supply the blank in our educational system created by their spoliation and abolition. here, too, wise reform might have spared and remodelled what misguided zeal, allied with unprincipled greed, destroyed. with the ruination and impoverishment of the cathedrals, an element in the church's life inseparable from them, and most salutary and useful, ceased to be. the bishops' deprivation of an authority they had too often disgraced and misused, vested the government of the church in the presbyterate; and the national sentiment approved of the change. but there was no necessity for upsetting the whole cathedral system, and rooting out the whole cathedral staff, because the bishop was turned adrift. had the canonries been spared, an immense boon would have been secured for the reformed church. had the stipends attached to them not been alienated, the church would have possessed, at all its most important centres, a staff of clergymen chosen for their ability and worth, for their learning and power of government and organisation, aiding the minister in his work, or enriching the theological literature of their time. with them might have been associated younger men, either under their supervision as candidates for the ministry, or as probationers acquiring practical knowledge of its duties and requirements. the cathedral would have stood out, in its city, great or small, as the mother church--holding forth the model of devout ritual, of earnest and learned teaching, of zealous work. how vastly superior its influence would have been, spiritually, intellectually, socially, to that of struggling _quoad sacra_ churches, with their ill-paid clergy, or "missions" in charge of worse-paid probationers, it is, i think, needless to point out. but the possibility of such an institution passed away when the cathedrals were desecrated, and their revenues were "grippit"--to use knox's phrase--by the ungodly robbers of the church. i have written these few pages to serve as an introduction to what follows, from the hand of my friend, mr. butler. the committee of the guild asked me to prepare a volume on the most notable of our ancient churches; and finding that other engagements stood in the way of my doing so, i recommended that the work should be entrusted to mr. butler, of whose ability to do it well i felt confident. having read what he has written, i find my confidence was not misplaced, and that his treatment of the subject is most instructive, thorough, and exact. it will add to the reputation he has already gained by his history of his own parish of abernethy on tay, and his books on wesley in scotland, and on henry scougal; and will prove an invaluable guide to all students of our historic churches, cathedral, collegiate, and monastic. r. h. s. scottish cathedrals and abbeys chapter i relation of celtic church to roman catholic church the period begun by the influence of queen margaret (1047-1093), continued by her sons and their successors on the scottish throne, and culminating in the scottish reformation of 1560, is that with which this book deals. the old celtic church of scotland was brought to an end by two causes--internal decay and external change. under the first head, notice must be taken of the encroachment upon the ecclesiastic element by the secular, and of the gradual absorption of the former by the latter. there was a vitality in the old ecclesiastical organisation, but it was weakened by the assimilation of the native church to that of rome in the seventh and eighth centuries, which introduced a secular element among the clergy; and the frequent danish invasions, which may be described as the organised power of paganism against scottish christianity, grievously undermined its native force. the celtic churches and monasteries were repeatedly laid waste or destroyed, and the native clergy were compelled either to fly or take up arms in defence; the lands, unprotected by the strong arm of law, fell into the hands of laymen, who made them hereditary in their families, and ultimately nothing was left but the name of abbacy, applied to the lands, and that of abbot, borne by a secular lord. under the second head--external change--may be noted the policy adopted towards the celtic church by the kings of the race of queen margaret. it consisted (1) in placing the church upon a territorial in place of a tribal basis, in substituting the parochial system and a diocesan episcopacy for the old tribal churches with monastic jurisdiction and functional episcopacy; (2) in introducing the orders of the church of rome, and founding great monasteries as counter influences to the celtic church; (3) in absorbing the culdees or columban clergy into the roman system, by first converting them from secular into regular canons, and afterwards by merging them in the latter order.[1] king david especially founded bishoprics and established cathedrals, equipped with the ordinary cathedral staff of deans, canons, and other functionaries, and monasteries equipped with representatives of the monastic orders. thus the native celtic church, undermined by internal decay, was extinguished by external change and a course of aggression which rolled from st. andrews until it reached the far-off shores of iona. all that remained to speak of its vitality and beneficence to the people of scotland consisted of the roofless walls of an early church, or an old churchyard with its celtic cross; the names of the early pastors by whom the churches were founded, or the neighbouring wells at the old foundations, dedicated to their memory; the village fairs, stretching back to a remote antiquity, and held on the saint's day in the scottish calendar; here and there a few lay families possessing the church lands as the custodiers of the pastoral staff or other relics of the founder of the church, and exercising a jurisdiction over the ancient "girth" or sanctuary boundary such as the early missionaries instituted in the days when might was right, and they nobly witnessed to the right against the might. the new policy was connected with the introduction of the orders of the roman catholic church, and with the building of cathedrals and abbeys. this movement commenced with the close of the eleventh century, and continued to the middle of the sixteenth; it embraced all the time when the church of scotland was guided by the regime of rome, although it is to be recalled that the scottish church never ceased to maintain a native independence--its heirloom from the ancient celtic church. this independence, manifested on important historical occasions throughout mediæval times, at last found its national embodiment in the reformed church of 1560. scotland was divided into thirteen dioceses--st. andrews, glasgow, dunkeld, aberdeen, moray, brechin, dunblane, ross, caithness, galloway, lismore or argyll, the isles, and orkney; but before sketching the history and architecture of each of the thirteen cathedrals, it will be necessary to indicate the general features of the various periods of scottish architecture itself, as it is of this movement the structures themselves are all an expression. chapter ii sketch of scottish architecture architecture is a great stone book in which nations have recorded their annals, before the days of the printing-press: have written their thoughts, expressed their aspirations, and embodied their feelings as clearly and truly as by any other form of utterance. we know egypt as vividly by its pyramids, the age of pericles by the parthenon of athens, imperial rome by the flavian amphitheatre and the baths of caracalla, as from the pages of their respective literature. the mediæval cathedrals, monasteries, and churches are a living record of the faith and devotion of mediæval men, who have left besides them but little else whereby we can know their aspirations and civilisation; we find in them an expression of the deepest life that characterised the periods to which they belong, and a record which, though often mutilated, and sometimes nearly obliterated, never deceives. wherever these architectural creations are found, there also a voice ought to be heard, telling what at that spot and at some previous time men thought and felt; what their civilisation enabled them to accomplish, and to what state they had attained in their conception of god. in a very true sense it can be said that the architecture of a country is the history of that country, and that the record of the architecture is the record of its civilisation. "mediæval architecture," said sir gilbert scott, "is distinguished from all other styles as being the last link of the mighty chain which had stretched unbroken through nearly 4000 years--the glorious termination of the history of original and genuine architecture....[2] it has been more entirely developed under the influence of the christian religion, and more thoroughly carried out its tone and sentiment, than any other style. it is _par eminence_ christian.... its greatest glory is the solemnity of religious character which pervades the interior of its temples. to this all its other attributes must bend, as it is this which renders it so pre-eminently suited to the highest uses of the christian church. it was this, probably, which led romney to exclaim, that if grecian architecture was the work of glorious men, gothic was the invention of gods."[3] this architecture was perfected by the mediæval builders--the round arch in the twelfth and the pointed arch in the two succeeding centuries. its progress was the realisation of three great aims, towards which the romanesque architects were ever striving--the perfecting of the arcuated and vaulted construction, the increase of the altitude of their proportion, and the general adding of refinement and delicacy to their details.[4] scotland, it has been maintained by those competent to judge, can show a continuous series of christian structures, beginning with the primitive cells and oratories of the early anchorites, and extending through all the periods of mediæval art. it exemplifies two distinctive phases of artistic development--the first comprising the rise and decline of celtic art in early christian times, and the second allied to the various stages of general european culture. the celtic churches, round towers, and sculptured monuments similar to those found in ireland, are followed by primitive examples of norman work, pointing to the saxon and norman influence of the eleventh century, which produced a complete revolution in the artistic elements of the country and led to a full development of the romanesque or norman style of architecture--a style similar to the round arched architecture of other european countries in the twelfth century. this is manifested chiefly in small parish churches, but also in large, elaborate buildings, and one cathedral.[5] the succeeding gothic styles are also well represented in scotland, and exhibit both certain local peculiarities and a general correspondence with the arts of the different periods in france and england. the first pointed style is represented in scotland during the thirteenth century, but owing to the disastrous situation of the country during the fourteenth century, the number of "decorated" buildings is pronounced to be comparatively small. on the other hand, it is maintained that during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when the "perpendicular" style prevailed in england and the "flamboyant" in france, the architecture of scotland was distinguished by a style peculiar to the country, in which many features derived from both the above styles may be detected.[6] "while the mediæval architecture of scotland thus corresponds on the whole with that of the rest of europe, there exists in the ecclesiology of the country an amount of native development sufficient to give it a special value as one of the exponents of the art of the middle ages. its buildings further contribute largely to the illustration of the history of the country, by showing in their remains the condition and growth of its religious ideas and observances at different epochs, and the manner in which its civilisation advanced. we observe striking evidences of the irish influence in the relics of the primitive celtic church. the norman and english influences are clearly traceable up to the invasion of edward i., and the political connection with france and the netherlands is distinctly observable in the period of the jameses."[7] 1. norman architecture the abernethy round tower, the priory of restennet, forfarshire, and st. regulus' or st. rule's church, st. andrews, illustrate the transition from celtic to norman architecture.[8] the dates of the irish round towers[9] extend from the ninth to the twelfth century, and the abernethy tower is regarded on historical grounds by dr. skene as belonging to the period about 870 a.d.; the upper windows and doorway are either additions of the twelfth century, or, as this was an early irish house in scotland, may illustrate what has been asserted, that in ireland a form of romanesque was introduced before the anglo-saxon invasion.[10] at any rate, the tower is a combination of celtic and norman work. as to restennet, the present choir is a first pointed structure. david i. founded there an augustinian priory, which malcolm iv. made a cell of the abbey of jedburgh. the tower is the only one of the square towers which has very marked features of a pre-norman character.[11] the building above the second story is probably fifteenth-century work. st. regulus' church is treated pp. 17-19. the twelfth century was in scotland as elsewhere the great church-building period, and the number of churches in the south and east that reflect the norman movement is very large. all the large ones were conventual. parish churches of the period are generally small and aisleless--the most of them being single oblong chambers, with an eastern chancel, sometimes with an eastern apse, and occasionally with a western tower.[12] towards the close of the period, the ornament became very elaborate, especially in the arched heads of doorways. a common feature was the arcade running round the walls below the windows, either in the exterior, interior, or both; the caps and arches are generally carved elaborately and richly with ornaments, the chevron or zig-zag enrichment being a characteristic feature. the windows are always single and simple in detail.[13] some of the towers connected with such churches are amongst the earliest instances of norman work which survive; they are simple in design, square on plan, and are carried up, without break or buttress, to the parapet, where they are finished with a gable roof, forming the saddle-back arrangement still preserved in the muthill tower.[14] the break in the height is formed by string courses, which mark the unequal stories. a small wheel-stair usually leads to the top, and the doorway is occasionally several feet from the ground. such are the leading features that can be traced in the buildings connected with the period. 2. scottish transition style the term "transition" is by general agreement reserved for the architecture of the end of the twelfth century, when the norman style gradually gave place to the first pointed gothic style. in england this period extends from about 1180 to 1200; in scotland it extends considerably into the thirteenth century. the characteristics of the style are the gradual introduction of the pointed arch and its use along with some of the decorative features of the norman style. "the pointed arch shows the advent of the new style, but the ornaments of the old style continue to linger for a time. the first pointed style was not complete till these old ornaments were abandoned, and the more vigorous enrichments of the new style were introduced. the other constructive features of the norman style gradually changed at the same time as the arch. the buttresses by degrees assumed the projecting form of the first pointed style, and the pinnacles and spires of the latter style were in course of time introduced."[15] 3. scottish first pointed period "the pointed gothic style which had its origin in the north of france about the middle of the twelfth century appeared in england about 1170, but can scarcely be said to have reached scotland till after the close of the twelfth century.... the pointed arch, for example, although generally adopted, did not entirely displace, as it had done in the south, the round form of the normans, a feature which, especially in doorways, continued to be employed not only in the thirteenth century, but throughout the whole course of gothic art in scotland. in other respects the thirteenth century style in this country corresponds very closely with that of england. its features are however, generally speaking, plainer and the structures are smaller."[16] "this new departure sprung from the necessity which arose for the invention of an elastic system of vaulting which should admit of all the arches, forming vaults over spaces of any form or plan, being carried to the same height at the ridge. this requirement led to the introduction of the pointed arch in the vaulting, and from that departure it soon spread to all the other arched features of the architecture."[17] architecture, which had hitherto been confined to the monasteries, was now undertaken by laymen, and while the great monasteries were either rebuilt or founded, the cathedrals mostly belong to this period. to these attention was chiefly devoted, and the number of parish churches constructed was comparatively small. this partly arose from the large number of parish churches built during the norman period. in scotland the cathedrals of st. andrews, dunblane, glasgow (the choir and crypt), elgin, brechin, dunkeld, caithness, the choir of st. magnus in orkney and galloway belong in whole or in part to this epoch.[18] 4. scottish middle pointed or decorated period the period from 1214 to 1286 comprised the first pointed work in scotland. the country was during the time prosperous, and is believed to have been more wealthy than at any time till after the union with england.[19] the disputed succession after the death of alexander iii. gave edward i. the opportunity of asserting his claims to the scottish throne; war followed, and with it poverty and barbarism. "the first note of contest," says dr. joseph robertson, "banished every english priest, monk, and friar from the northern realm. its termination was followed by the departure of those great anglo-norman lords--the flower of the scottish baronage--who, holding vast possessions in both countries, had so long maintained among the rude scottish hills the generous example of english wealth and refinement. then it was that de la zouche and de quincy, ferrars and talbot, beaumont and umfraville, percy and wake, moubray and fitz-warine, balliol and cumyn, hastings and de coursi, ceased to be significant names beyond the tweed--either perishing in that terrible revolution or withdrawing to their english domains, there to perpetuate in scutcheon and pedigree the memory of their rightful claims to many of the fairest lordships of albany, and to much of the reddest blood of the north."[20] this had a twofold consequence to architecture. comparatively few buildings arose in the north, and these were in a smaller scale. and england now becoming an hereditary enemy, no longer supplied models for the churches north of the tweed, which received the impress of france. in england the first pointed was succeeded about 1272 by the middle pointed or decorated, which swayed for about a century, being succeeded by the third pointed or perpendicular, whose reign, beginning about 1377, ended with the reformation.[21] the decorated style did not reach scotland till it had passed away in england, and the scottish representatives of the style are scanty in number and late in date.[22] when the country revived after the long struggle with england, and building began towards the close of the fourteenth or the beginning of the fifteenth century, few new works were undertaken, energy and resources were concentrated on the rebuilding or completion of the edifices that had been destroyed or left unfinished. this period, along with the third pointed in scotland, is regarded as the work of native architects.[23] 5. scottish third or late pointed period the middle pointed passed by a gentle gradation into the late pointed style, and it is difficult to say when the one ceased and the other began. yet there are some characteristics of the third pointed which are peculiar to it and render it a distinct epoch. the large churches are nearly all restorations, and no new churches of great size were undertaken. the scottish churches are usually smaller in size than the english ones, and consist of single compartments without aisles. the east end frequently terminates with a three-sided apse--a feature which owes its origin to the scottish alliance and intercourse with france. the leading and distinguishing feature is, however, the vaulting--the pointed barrel vault being almost universally employed. the windows of these churches are necessarily low, so as to allow the point of the arch-head to come beneath the spring of the main vault. the buttresses are generally somewhat stunted. the windows are almost always pointed, and contain simple tracery derived from the earlier styles. the doorways are generally of the old round-headed form, with late foliage and enrichments. porches are occasionally introduced, and coats of arms are commonly carved on shields of the period, and are useful in determining the dates of portions of the buildings. towers were generally erected or intended, and are somewhat stunted, finished with short spires, having small dormer windows inserted in them. monuments are of frequent occurrence, and are frequently placed in arched and canopied recesses. richly carved sacrament-houses are occasionally introduced, and perhaps some of the good carving may be due to the french masons who were numerous in scotland during the reigns of james iv. and james v. the structures of the period were either parish or collegiate churches.[24] chapter iii 1. diocese of st. andrews the connection between st. andrews and the neighbouring pictish church at abernethy was, during the early period, very close. dr. skene thinks that the first church at abernethy was built during the visit of st. ninian to the southern picts, or the people living between the forth and the territory south of the grampians; it was endowed with lands by king nectan in 460 a.d., and dedicated to st. bride;[25] and between 584 and 596, during st. columba's visit, and as a result of his mission, a church was rebuilt by gartnaidh, king of the picts.[26] st. columba is distinctly stated to have preached among the tribes on the banks of the tay,[27] and to have been assisted in this work by st. cainnech, who founded a church in the east end of the province of fife, near where the eden pours its waters into the german ocean, at a place called rig-monadh, or the royal mount, which afterwards became famous as the site on which the church of st. andrews was founded, and as giving to that place the name of kilrimont.[28] the earliest celtic church at st. andrews was probably, like that of iona, constructed with wattles and turf and roofed with thatch. it was customary to have caves or places of retirement for the hermits; they were used, too, as oratories or places of penance, and one such there is at st. andrews, known as st. rule's cave:- where good saint rule his holy lay, from midnight to the dawn of day, sang to the billows' sound.[29] the connection of the place with st. andrew has no historical basis till between 736 and 761, when a cathedral was dedicated to st. andrew, and a portion of his relics was brought by acca, bishop of northumbria, who was banished from that country in 732, and founded a church among the picts. dr. skene points to the similarity of the events which succeeded one another in northumbria and southern pictland in the eighth century. in the former country the columban clergy were expelled, secular clergy were introduced, dedications were made to st. peter, and afterwards hexham was dedicated to st. andrew and received the relics of the apostle, brought there by one of its bishops; in the latter country, sixty years later, the picts expelled the columban monks, introduced the secular clergy, placed the kingdom under the patronage of st. peter, and then receiving from some unknown quarter the relics of st. andrew, founded the church in honour of that apostle, who became the national patron-saint.[30] this "cathedral," dedicated to st. andrew, was probably of stone, and was the church intervening between the early celtic church and that of st. regulus. angus, king of the picts, endowed it with lands. on the destruction of iona by the danes, the bishopric was first transferred to dunkeld (850-864); then to abernethy (865-908), when the round tower was probably built;[31] and in 908 it was transferred to st. andrews, which retained it until the reformation. st. adrian was probably one of the three bishops of alban[32] at abernethy, as chapels and crosses in the district are all connected with his name; and cellach appears as the first bishop at st. andrews, and he was succeeded by eight culdee bishops, the last of whom was fothad, who officiated at the marriage of malcolm canmore and queen margaret. the next three bishops all died before consecration, and for about sixteen years after the death of malcolm the bishopric would appear to have been vacant. turgot, queen margaret's friend and confessor, was the thirteenth bishop, and ruled from 1107-1115--the first bishop not of native birth. prior to 1107 the culdee community had split up into two sections, dividing the spiritualities and temporalities between them, and bishop robert (1121-1159), with the object of superseding the culdees, founded in 1144 a priory for the regular monks of st. augustine, granting to them the hospital of st. andrews, with portions of the altarage. in the same year king david granted a charter to the prior and canons of st. andrews, in which he provided that they shall receive the keledei of kilrimont into the canonry, with all their possessions and revenues, if they were willing to become canons-regular; but, if they refused, those who are now alive are to retain the property during their lives, and, after their death, as many canons-regular are to be instituted in the church of st. andrews as there are now keledei, and all their possessions are to be appropriated to the use of the canons. there were thus two rival ecclesiastical bodies in st. andrews--the old corporation of secular priests and the new order of austin-canons; the former enjoyed the greater part of the old endowments, and the latter recovered a considerable portion of the secularised property that had passed into lay hands. popes, bishops, and kings endeavoured to end this rivalry, but their efforts were not crowned with success; although influence was on the side of the canons-regular, the keledei clung to their prescriptive right to take part in the election of a bishop down to 1273, when they were excluded by protest; in 1332 they were absolutely excluded, and the formula of their exclusion from taking part in the election was repeated;[33] we hear of them afterwards not as keledei, but as "the provostry of the church of st. mary of the city of st. andrews," of "the church of the blessed mary of the rock," and of "the provostry of kirkheugh"--the society consisting of a provost and ten prebendaries.[34] in the reign of malcolm iv. the bishopric of st. andrews included the counties of fife, kinross, clackmannan, the three lothians, berwickshire, roxburghshire, parts of perthshire, forfarshire, and kincardineshire; and, although the see was lessened by the creation of new bishoprics, the importance of st. andrews was always great, for at the reformation the primate's ecclesiastical jurisdiction included 2 archdeaconries, 9 rural deaneries, the patronage of 131 benefices, the administration of 245 parishes. in 1471 or 1472 the see was erected into an archbishopric by a bull of pope sixtus iv. and at this time the archbishop of york surrendered his claim to have the bishop of st. andrews as his suffragan--a claim repeatedly made since the time of turgot and as frequently resented. the office of bishop or archbishop involved great spiritual and temporal power; the primates were lords of regality and ultimate heirs of all confiscated property within their domains; they levied customs and at times had the power of coining money; they presided at synods, controlled the appointment of abbots and priors, were included with the king in the oath of allegiance, and took precedence next to the royal family, and before all the scottish nobility. there were in all thirty-one bishops and six archbishops, who held the see in succession from 908 to 1560, and among the more famous of them may be mentioned turgot, the friend and biographer of queen margaret (1107-1115); robert, prior of scone, who founded the priory of st. andrews, received the gift of the culdee monastery of lochleven, and built the church and tower of st. rule (1124-1158); arnold, abbot of kelso, who started the building of the great cathedral (1158-1159); william wishart of pitarrow, who was lord-chancellor and bishop (1273-1279), and rebuilt, between 1272 and 1279, the west front, which was blown down by a tempest of wind; william lamberton (1298-1328), who consecrated the cathedral in 1318, in the presence of king robert the bruce; henry wardlaw (1404-1440), who founded in 1411 the university of st. andrews; james kennedy (1440-1466)--the greatest of all the bishops--who founded st. salvador's college; james stewart (1497-1503), second son of james iii., duke of ross and marquis of ormond, who was made primate at twenty-one; alexander stewart (1506-1513), who was the natural son of james iv., and fell with his father at flodden; james beaton (1522-1539), who founded st. mary's college and burnt patrick hamilton; david beaton, nephew of james beaton (1539-1546), who burnt wishart and was murdered; john hamilton (1549-1571), who was the author of the catechism of 1552.[35] as to the buildings, st. regulus' or st. rule's, standing in the ancient churchyard at a distance of about 120 feet south-east of the east end of the cathedral of st. andrews, was unquestionably the earlier cathedral church, and occupies probably the site of the earlier celtic church. bishop robert (1121-1159) introduced the canons-regular of st. augustine in 1144, and these gradually absorbed many of the culdees into their community. it was during this time also that st. rule's was built. dr. joseph robertson says of it:--"the little romanesque church and square tower at st. andrews, which bear the name of st. rule, have, so far as we know, no prototype in the south.... no one acquainted with the progress of architecture will have much difficulty in identifying the building with the small 'basilica' reared by bishop robert, an english canon-regular of the order of st. augustine, between the years 1127 and 1144."[36] the pictish chronicle states that robert was elected bishop in the reign of alexander i., but was not consecrated till the reign of david i. in 1138; that, after his consecration by thurstan, archbishop of york, he expended on this work one-seventh of the altar dues which fell to him, reserving them for his own use. "but inasmuch as the outlay was small, the building made correspondingly small progress, until, by the divine favour, and the influence of the king, offerings flowed in, and the work went on apace. the basilica was thus founded and in great part constructed."[37] what now remains of this building consists of a square tower, 112 feet high, and an oblong chamber. discussion has arisen as to whether there ever was a nave, and in favour of the positive view it is urged that marks of three successive roofs may be seen on the tower-wall, and that the seals of the church, dated 1204 and 1214, show a nave and chancel. eminent authorities take this view. sir gilbert scott thinks that the large size of the western arch, and the mark of the roof on the tower, suggest a nave;[38] while later authorities, recalling that this church was once a cathedral, as well as the church of a monastery, and served the purpose of a parish church, hold it as more than probable that it must have been a larger building than the simple oblong chamber to the east of the tower which now survives.[39] the architecture corresponds with the period of bishop robert,[40] so that there is more than probability in averring that st. rule's was the cathedral built by this bishop, and took the place of an earlier celtic church, founded by bishop acca. the square tower of st. regulus was probably designed to fulfil the same purposes as the round towers of abernethy and brechin: (1) to serve as a belfry; (2) to be a keep or place of strength in which the sacred utensils, books, relics, and other valuables were deposited, and into which the ecclesiastics could retire for security in case of sudden predatory attack; (3) when occasion required, to be a beacon or watch-tower.[41] besides the church of st. regulus, there are still to be seen the ruins of the great cathedral of st. andrews, which consisted of a short aisleless presbytery, and choir of five bays with side aisles, with an eastern chapel in each aisle; north and south transepts, each of three bays with eastern aisles; nave of twelve bays with north and south aisles, and a large central tower over the crossing. the interior dimensions were--total length, 355 feet; width of nave, 63 feet; length of transepts, 167 feet 6 inches; width, 43 feet 2 inches. the older parts of the cathedral exhibit traces of the transition from the norman architecture, but the principal parts of the structure have been carried out in the first pointed style.[42] the cathedral church was also the conventual church of the austin-canons, and the bishop was _ex officio_ prior of the monastery. of the conventual buildings erected by bishop robert nothing remains. the cathedral was erected from east to west in about 115 years.[43] the work was commenced by bishop arnold in 1161, was continued by eleven successive bishops, and was consecrated by bishop lamberton in 1318. during its progress in 1276, the eastern end was greatly injured by a violent tempest, and in 1378 the cathedral suffered from fire, which according to wyntoun destroyed the south half of the nave from the west end, and eastward to and including the ninth pillar. the restoration was begun at once by bishop landel (1341-1385), and completed in the time of bishop wardlaw (1404-1440), who in 1430 improved the interior by the introduction of fine pavements in the choir, transept, and nave, and by filling the nave with stained glass and building a large window in the eastern gable. the south wall of the nave extends considerably westwards beyond the present west end, and contains the remains of a vaulting shaft, leading to the inference that the cathedral was originally of greater length than it now is by at least 34 feet. the north wall of nave also projects westwards about 7 feet. there is a difficulty in connection with the west front, and it is regarded by competent authorities that this wall was not part of a western porch, but "indicates that there has been a change in the design, and that the original intention of having a wide porch extending along the whole of the west end has been departed from after the first story was built up to the level of the above string course, all above that point being of later design and execution."[44] the early chapter-house was 26 feet square, and was vaulted with four central pillars. it opened to the cloisters, and the doorway is pronounced to be in the purest style of early pointed architecture.[45] bishop lamberton (1298-1328) erected a new chapter-house, and the old one was made a vestibule to the new. south of the early chapter-house was probably the fratery; on the upper floor of this building and the chapter-house was the dormitory--a wheel-stair leading to it from the south transept. on the west side of the cloister was the sub-prior's house, known also as senzie house; south-east of the fratery is the prior's house or hospitium vetus, which was sometimes the residence of the bishop. west of the cathedral are the remains of the entrance gateway, called the "pends," and in continuation of the "pends" was the enclosing wall of the priory grounds, containing sixteen towers. the guest-house was within the precinct of st. leonard's college, and was built about the middle of the thirteenth century.[46] within the precincts of the priory-grounds were the various offices connected with the great ecclesiastical establishment. the conventual and other buildings attached to the cathedral have been recently excavated at the expense of the late marquis of bute, and considerable remains of the foundations disclosed to view. the ruins of the castle stand on a rocky promontory, overhanging the sea, n.n.w. of the cathedral; and between the cathedral-wall on the n.e. and the sea are the foundations of a chapel dedicated to the virgin. in 1559 the cathedral was attacked by the mob and greatly destroyed. time and weather helped to complete the work of destruction; the protestant archbishop spottiswoode in 1635 strove to make provision for its restoration, but nothing appears to have been done to arrest the work of destruction. the barons of exchequer in 1826 took possession of the ruins, had the rubbish cleared away, and what remained of the great building strengthened. the pier-bases have been made visible, and the outline of the building marked on the turf. st. andrews has been associated with most of the stirring events in scottish church history, and will always possess its two great voices of the cathedral and the sea. 2. diocese of glasgow towards the end of the fourth century, st. ninian, a christian missionary trained at rome in the doctrine and discipline of the western church, is said to have established a religious cell on the banks of the molendinar. how long he remained there is uncertain, but his labours are chiefly centred around the candida casa at whithorn and among the southern picts, whose district, according to bede, he evangelised. with st. ninian's departure, the district around the molendinar relapsed into barbarism, and the only remaining monument of his work was a cemetery which he was reputed to have consecrated. the next historical reference to glasgow is in connection with st. kentigern, or, as he was popularly known, st. mungo, about the middle of the sixth century. he was of royal descent, and was born in 518 or 527. his biographer, joceline, states that he was adopted and educated by st. servanus or st. serf, who lived at culross, and by him was named "munghu," _i.e._ dearest friend. but this must be a mistake, for servanus lived two centuries after kentigern's time;[47] if it is correct, there must have been an earlier and a later st. serf. on attaining his twenty-fifth year, according to joceline, he proceeded to carnock, where lived a holy man named fergus. after he reached the abode of fergus, the good man said his "nunc dimittis" and died; and kentigern, placing his body on a wain drawn by two bulls, took his departure, praying to be guided to the place which might be appointed for burial. the place where the wain stopped was cathures, afterwards called glasgow, where st. ninian had consecrated a cemetery, and here fergus was buried. such is joceline's account of kentigern's first connection with glasgow. the king and people of the district pressed him to remain as their bishop, and he consented, establishing his see at cathures and founding a lay society of the servants of god, and fixing his own abode on the banks of the molendinar. after some years of austerity and beneficence there, he was driven from his work by the persecutions of an apostate prince and settled in the vale of clwyd, north wales, where he founded a monastery. after a time he returned to glasgow, at the solicitation of the king of cumbria, and appointed st. asaph as his successor in wales. in a martyrology ascribed to the year 875 kentigern appears as "bishop of glasgow and confessor."[48] while resident at glasgow, st. kentigern was visited by st. columba, his distinguished contemporary and the apostle of the picts, who presented him with a crozier, which, fordun says, was afterwards preserved in st. wilfrid's church at ripon. bishop forbes describes the meeting of the two great men "as one of those incidents which we wish to be true, and which we have no certainty for believing not to be so."[49] st. kentigern died in 603 or 614, and was buried in glasgow, which is still known as the city of st. mungo--mungo being his name of honour or affection. everything connected with st. mungo's early church, of wood and wattles or of stone, on the banks of the molendinar, is shrouded in the mists of antiquity until the first quarter of the twelfth century, when david, prince and earl of cumbria, the youngest son of queen margaret, took measures to reconstruct the see and recover its property. of glasgow during the culdee period nothing can be definitely known. the result of prince david's inquest is contained in the _register_ of the bishopric,[50] and it sets forth that prince david, from love to god and by the exhortation of the bishop, having caused inquiry to be made concerning the lands belonging to the church in cumbria, had ascertained that they belonged to the church of glasgow, and restored them. these lands extended from the clyde on the north to the solway and english march on the south, from the western boundary of lothian on the east to the river urr on the west, including teviotdale, and comprehended what afterwards formed the site of the city of glasgow.[51] the building of the cathedral would appear to have been begun before david succeeded to the throne in 1124, and he appointed his tutor john (called achaius) to the bishopric. in 1136 the church, which was probably chiefly of wood, was dedicated, and king david endowed it further with lands, tithes, and churches. the church of achaius was destroyed by fire, but through the exertions of bishop joceline a society was founded to collect funds for its restoration, and the work was sufficiently advanced for its consecration on 6th july 1197.[52] although built at different dates, the building has a very homogeneous appearance, and might be mistaken for a building of one period. under competent guidance,[53] we now propose to give a short sketch of the cathedral itself. the first attempt to erect a cathedral was made by bishop achaius, whose episcopate extended from 1115 to 1147, and mr. honeyman regards the portion of the lower church at the south-west angle as the most ancient part of the structure. he holds that the church built by achaius was restored by bishop joceline (1175-1199) at the end of the twelfth century, and that the above portion formed a chapel, and was part of that restoration. the strongest argument is its nearness to the tomb of the patron saint. if we assume that the old choir terminated in a semicircular apse, projecting eastward beyond the aisles, we shall find that the tomb would be enclosed in such a position as to admit of the high altar being placed immediately over it. assuming that the choir was not apsidal but square, we get the same result. the probability is that the end of the church erected or altered by joceline was square, and that it projected two bays beyond the aisles, as at st. andrews and other churches of the same period.[54] the crypt, or, strictly speaking, "lower church," was evidently suggested by the sloping eastward character of the site, which would have placed st. mungo's tomb at a depth below the level on which a large church could possibly be built; while achaius, from his long residence in italy, would be led to imitate some notable italian examples.[55] some similarities between glasgow and jedburgh (which was in the diocese of glasgow) have suggested that there was in the olden times such a servant of the church as a diocesean architect.[56] "one thing is abundantly clear," says mr. honeyman, "to any one who intelligently studies the building, namely, that the whole design was carefully thought out and settled before a stone was laid. it is a skilful and homogeneous design, which could only be produced by a man of exceptional ability and great experience. nothing has been left to chance, or to the sweet will of the co-operating craftsman, but the one master-mind has dictated every moulding and every combination, and has left the impress of his genius upon it all. the mark of the master may be discerned by the practised eye in every feature of the magnificent edifice; the marks of the craftsmen may be seen on the work they were told to do, and did so well."[57] to bishop joceline is due the credit of having formed a society to collect funds for the restoration of bishop john's church, which was burnt by fire,[58] and he appears to have rebuilt the choir, and also to have designed, if he did not also partly build, the nave.[59] this part of his work was sufficiently advanced for consecration on 6th july 1197.[60] the work was probably continued by his successors, but the next great benefactor of the cathedral was bishop william de bondington (1233-1258), who perfected joceline's work, and built both choir and lower church or "crypt," as they now are.[61] according to mr. honeyman, the foundations of the nave were laid and part of the walls was carried up before the building of the choir was begun.[62] most of the nave appears, from its architecture, to have been erected at the end of the thirteenth, or the beginning of the fourteenth century, and is pronounced to form "one of the finest examples of the late first pointed or early decorated style in scotland."[63] "the spacing (of the piers) is that of the twelfth century (considerably less than that of the choir), while the height and the treatment, in other respects, is that of the latter portion of the thirteenth."[64] bishop wishart during the war of independence supported the scottish party; he obtained permission from edward i. to cut timber in luss forest for erecting the spire of the cathedral, and it was one of the causes of accusation against him, which led to his imprisonment in england, that he had used the said timber not for building the spire but for making engines of war wherewith to attack edward's army. in 1400 the wooden spire of the cathedral was destroyed by lightning, but a new tower of masonry was erected over the crossing by bishop lauder (1408-1425), who carried the work as high as the main parapet. "this bishop appears also to have begun the completion of the chapter-house, a detached structure lying to the north-east of the choir. the walls of this building were partly erected about the time of the construction of the choir, but were afterwards raised to two storeys in height, and vaulted by bishop cameron."[65] this latter prelate (1426-1446) was known as "the magnificent," from the splendour of his retinue and court. he erected the stone spire above the tower of bishop lauder, and also completed the chapter-house wing containing the sacristy on the upper floor, and the chapter-house on the ground floor. his arms are still to be seen on the portions of the structure erected by him. the beautiful rood-screen was also probably constructed by him.[66] bishop cameron also increased the number of prebendaries from seven to thirty-two, and ordained that they should all have manses and reside near the cathedral. in his day the episcopal court was said to rival that of the king, and he built the great tower of the castle or episcopal palace, which was probably erected by bishop bondington and stood with the garden in the open space between the cathedral and the present castle street, now called infirmary square. the bishop's palace was a scottish baronial structure, and had an elaborate turreted gateway or port at the south-east angle of the wall nearly opposite the gate that now leads to the cathedral yard.[67] bishop william turnbull, who succeeded bishop cameron, held office from 1448 to 1454. he did not add much to the cathedral, but his memory ought to be gratefully remembered, for in response to his representation and that of the king, pope nicholas v. issued his bull, on 7th january 1450-1451, by which he erected the university, ordaining that it should flourish in all time to come, as well in theology and canon and civil law as in the arts and every lawful faculty, and that the doctors, masters, readers, and students might there enjoy all the liberties, honours, exemptions, and immunities granted by the apostolic see to the doctors, masters, and students in the university of bologna. he gave the power to confer degrees and make licentiates--an important recognition in those days, for it brought the influence of the church on the side of schools of learning, and gave universal european validity to the degrees so conferred.[68] the bishop of glasgow was the patron and head of the university of glasgow, which was thus founded forty years after that of st. andrews, and forty years before that of aberdeen. the next prelate, bishop andrew muirhead (1455-1473) took an important part in the state affairs of the period, and as far as his work in the cathedral is concerned, built the hall of the choral vicars. it is situated between the two buttresses at the west end of the north aisle of the choir, and is a low building now roofed with flags. it was called the "aula vicariorum chori," and was built as an accommodation for the vicars choral, whose duties were to serve and sing in the choir. they were formed into a college by bishop muirhead, were originally twelve in number, but were afterwards increased to eighteen, and were aided by boy choristers. archbishop eyre thinks that this building on the north side of the cathedral was the early song-school of the church, which passed into the hands of the college of vicars choral, and was a hall for their business meetings and musical practice, the second storey being probably their reading-room, or the sleeping-place of the sacristan, who was required to sleep in the church.[69] robert blacader (1484-1508) was high in favour with king james iv., and was one of the embassy sent to england to arrange the marriage of the scottish monarch with the daughter of henry vii. james had previously sought consolation under the bishop's care, enrolled himself as a prebendary in the cathedral, and in person attended as a member of the cathedral-chapter. the king was always favourable to glasgow, and did not desire the see to be subordinate to that of st. andrews. he urged upon the pope that the pallium should be granted to the bishop of glasgow, whose cathedral, he urged, "surpasses the other cathedral churches of my realm by its structure, its learned men, its foundation, its ornaments, and other very noble prerogatives." a bull was granted in 1491-1492 by pope innocent viii. in which he declared the see to be metropolitan, and appointed the bishops of dunkeld, dunblane, galloway, and argyll to be its suffragans.[70] blacader was the first archbishop of glasgow, and beautified his cathedral by building or adorning the fine rood-screen which separates the nave from the choir[71] by founding altarages and erecting two altars in front of the rood-screen, on both of which his arms and initials are carved.[72] he built also the decorated flights of steps from the aisles of the nave to the choir, and partly erected the building in continuation of the south transept, called blacader's aisle, but it was never carried higher than the ground storey or crypt.[73] it is also known as fergus's aisle.[74] archbishop blacader was the last to add to the cathedral, and there is reason to believe that his addition occupies the site of the cemetery consecrated by st. ninian, and thus the earliest consecration and the latest building effort are identified with the same spot.[75] glasgow, like elgin, aberdeen, and brechin, possessed originally two western towers, but at glasgow, grievously and unfortunately, the south-west tower was removed in 1845, and the north-west one in 1848 by the restoration committee. they were venerable in their antiquity, and were probably built after the completion of the nave and aisles, if not at the same time. evidence showed "that probably the north-west tower was part of the original design, or if not, that its erection was resolved on before the north aisle was completed, and it was built before the west window of the north aisle required to be glazed. the south-west tower was probably of the same date."[76] the latter was best known as the consistory house, and was the place where the bishops held their ecclesiastical courts and the diocesan records were kept. the only comfort amid the demolition of the towers is that the proposed new ones were not erected in their place; and better counsel ought to have prevailed, since mr. billings described the removal as an act of barbarism. "all who now see the grand old building, shorn of its cathedral features, and made like a large parish church, mock and laugh at the action of the local committee, saying, "these men had two towers, and they went and pulled them both down.""[77] the higher church had twenty-four altars or chapels;[78] the lower church, commonly but incorrectly called the crypt, had six altars;[79] the high altar occupied the usual place, was dedicated to st. kentigern, had a wooden canopy or tabernacle work over it, and in front of it, on the right-hand side, was the bishop's throne.[80] when it is recalled that the cathedral possessed these thirty altars or chapels (most of them beautiful works of art), thirty-two canons, college of choral vicars, with other assistants, one can well understand the great, almost dangerous power which the "spiritual dukedom" possessed, and the dread, felt even by its own chapter, when it was first proposed to make the bishopric into an archbishopric, for they regarded the movement as conferring too much power on the bishop.[81] a conception of the archbishop's power may be formed by recalling that the archdeaconry of glasgow contained the following deaneries--nycht, nith, or dumfries, with 31 parishes, besides 2 in annandale and 8 in galloway; annandale, 28 parishes, besides 8 in eskdale; kyle, 17 parishes; cunningham, 15; carrick, 9; lennox, 17; rutherglen, 34; lanark or clydesdale, 25; peebles or stobo, 19; the archdeaconry of teviotdale, 36 parishes.[82] besides the prelates already mentioned there were, as the direct successors of blacader, james beaton (1508-1522), afterwards archbishop of st. andrews; gavin dunbar (1524-1547); james beaton, the last roman catholic archbishop, who at the reformation retired to france with the writs of the see, which were deposited, by his directions, partly in the archives of the scots college, and partly in the chartreuse of paris, and have been since published by the maitland club.[83] among the protestant archbishops space will only permit us recording the names of john spottiswood (1612-1615) and robert leighton (1671-1674).[84] glasgow has passed through the various stages of burgh, burgh of barony, burgh of regality, city, royal burgh, and county of a city.[85] but it grew under the protection of the church, for as david i. granted to bishop john of st. andrews the site of the burgh of that name, so william the lion granted to bishop joceline of glasgow the right to have a burgh in glasgow, with all the freedoms and customs which any royal burgh in scotland possessed.[86] glasgow thus owed its existence to the church, under whose fostering care it developed for centuries, and the ruling ecclesiastic elected the provost, magistrates, and councillors. its motto still is "let glasgow flourish by the preaching of the word," and its seal emblems have been thus interpreted: "the employment of these four emblems (fish, bird, tree, bell) in connection with st. kentigern was meant to convey that he was sent as a fisher of men, that his work from small beginnings grew to very large dimensions, 'like to a grain of mustard-seed, ... which is the least indeed of all seeds, but when it is grown up ... becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and dwell in the branches thereof'; and that his name and fame became so great that he was heard of everywhere. 'verily their sound hath gone forth into all the earth, and their words unto the ends of the whole world.'"[87] the most beautiful features of the exterior are pronounced to be the doorways, especially those of the lower church,[88] the vaulting of which was said by sir gilbert scott to contain nowhere two compartments in juxtaposition which are alike.[89] it has been suggested that the motive of the architect was to reproduce, as nearly as circumstances permitted, the plan of solomon's temple, and the arrangement corresponds exactly.[90] the beauty of the lower church is much obscured by the dark stained glass in the windows, and it is matter for regret that this masterpiece of design and wonderful variety of effect[91] are not more visible. "the plan of the cathedral," says mr. honeyman, "is remarkably compact, and the exterior is symmetrical and harmonious. the best points of view are from the north-east and the south-east. from either of these points the full height of the structure is seen, and that is sufficiently great to give the building a dignified and impressive effect, the height from the ground-level to the apex of the choir gable being 115 feet. the well-proportioned short transept breaks the monotony of the long clerestory, without unduly hiding it, as transepts with more projections do. the gable of the choir, with its four lancets, rises picturesquely over the double eastern aisles, while the sombre keep-like mass of the chapter-house adds a romantic element to the effect of the whole composition, which culminates gracefully in the lofty spire. the pervading characteristic is simplicity, and the effect solemnising. sir walter scott, with his usual quick perception of _character_ in buildings, as well as in man, puts an admirable reference to these salient points into the mouth of andrew fairservice, who exclaims, 'ah! it's a brave kirk; nane o' yer whigmaleeries an' curliwurlies, an' open-steek hems about it.' it may, indeed, be called severe, but not tame."[92] internally the cathedral has a nave of eight bays, with side aisles; transepts, not projecting beyond the aisles; a choir of five bays, with side aisles and an aisle at the east end, with chapels beyond it. at the north-east corner of the choir is the sacristy or vestiarium; below it is the chapter-house, with an entrance from the lower church; on the south side of the church, as a continuation of the transept, is another low church or crypt, called "blacader's aisle"; on the north side are the foundations of a large chapel. over the crossing rise the tower and spire, 217 feet high. the church within is 283 feet long by 61 feet broad.[93] the history of the cathedral is closely connected with many of the stirring events in scottish history. king edward prostrated himself before its altar; robert the bruce within it received absolution, "while the red cumyn's blood was scarce yet dry upon his dagger"; and within its walls was held the glasgow assembly of 1638, when the episcopate was abolished, and the presbyterian government was restored. robert leighton has preached within its choir, in his low, sweet voice, and with those angelic strains of eloquence and devotion which lingered in the memory of his hearers to their dying day. 3. diocese of dunkeld dunkeld is situated amid lovely scenery, and was from the earliest times a religious centre. the name means fort of the culdees. after the destruction of iona by the norsemen in the beginning of the ninth century, dunkeld became the seat of the columban authority in scotland, and part of the relics of st. columba were brought here by king kenneth macalpine in 850. its abbot was named bishop of fortreum, but in 865 the primacy was transferred to abernethy, and thence to st. andrews in 908. one of the lay abbots at dunkeld married a daughter of malcolm ii., and through the influence of their descendants the religious order in scotland was changed. emerging as great secular chiefs, these lay abbots weakened, if they did not destroy, the ecclesiastical foundation. the bishopric was revived by alexander i. in 1107, and prior to the thirteenth century was not confined to atholl, but extended to the western sea, and included the districts stretching along its shores from the firth of clyde to lochbroom, and forming the province of argyll.[94] the western part was separated about 1200, and formed into a new bishopric, termed first that of argyll, and afterward that of lismore.[95] cormac, the culdee abbot, was the first bishop under the new order, and among his successors may be mentioned bishop sinclair (1312-1338), the friend of bruce, and a "man of courage, the champion of the church, and the brave defender of the constitution of the kingdom";[96] bishop lauder (1452-1476), who filled the see "with unfading honour,"[97] and built a bridge across the tay, as well as adorned the cathedral; george brown (1485-1514), who divided the see into four deaneries, procured gaelic preachers,[98] promoted clerical efficiency, enlarged the palace at dunkeld, and built the castle of cluny;[99] gavin douglas (1516-1522), "a noble, learned, worthy bishop,"[100] who translated the _æneid_ into scots verse, and thus in a barbarous age, gave to rude scotland virgil's page. the diocese had four deaneries: (1) atholl and drumalbane, with 47 parishes; (2) angus, with 5; (3) fife, fotherick, and stratherne, with 7; (4) south forth, with 7.[101] canon myln's quaint _lives of the bishops of dunkeld_ professes to give an account of the building of the cathedral, and it appears that the existing structure is chiefly of the fifteenth century.[102] it consists of an aisleless choir, a nave with two aisles, a north-west tower, and a chapter-house to the north of the choir. it appears that the different parts of the structure were begun at the dates given by abbot myln, but were not completed until some time afterwards.[103] all are third pointed in style except the choir, which retains some scanty portions of first pointed work. the following are given as the approximate dates of the original construction: choir (1318-1400); nave (1406-1465); chapter-house (1457-1465); tower (1469-1501). the episcopal palace was a little south-west of the cathedral, which contained many valuable ornaments and vessels, a painted reredos, and in its great tower two large bells, named st. george and st. colm (columba). at the reformation in 1560, the cathedral suffered the common fate of most of such structures, although argyll and ruthven, in requiring the lairds of airntully and kinvaid "to purge the kirk of all kinds of monuments of idolatry," requested them also "to tak good heid that neither the desks, windocks, nor doors be onyways hurt or broken, either glassin work or iron work." the closing injunction was not observed, and the roofs were also demolished. in 1600 the choir was re-roofed, and is the present parish church. but the ruins still speak of the former grandeur of this old church-town, and perhaps a like day may yet dawn for dunkeld, as has been seen at dunblane. 4. diocese of aberdeen the earliest ecclesiastical history of aberdeen is connected with st. machar (a disciple of st. columba), who preached the gospel among the northern picts and settled on the banks of the don, founding there both a christian colony and a church, which, from its situation, was called the church of aberdon. another band of columban missionaries established themselves in the sequestered vale of the fiddich, at morthlac, and in the beginning of the twelfth century the "monastery of morthlach" possessed five dependent churches.[104] the tradition that there was a bishopric at murthlack or morthlach is not founded on reliable evidence, and is discredited by dr. cosmo innes[105] and dr. skene.[106] what david i. did was to graft on the culdee monastery of st. machar the chapter of a new diocese, and in this manner the bishopric was founded before 1150, and endowed with old culdee possessions, among others with the "monastery of morthlach" and its five churches.[107] the third bishop, matthew de kininmond, began to build a cathedral between 1183 and 1199 to supersede the primitive church then existing,[108] "which (new building), because it was not glorious enough, bishop cheyne threw down."[109] the second edifice was begun by bishop cheyne about 1282, and the work was interrupted by the scottish war with edward i. during the bishop's absence in temporary banishment. "the king (bruce) seeing the new cathedral he had begun, made the church to be built with the revenues of the bishopric."[110] the cathedral thus built was thrown down in turn by bishop alexander kininmond, who succeeded in 1355 and began the present cathedral about 1366. "of his operations there remain two large piers for the support of the central tower, which form the earliest portion of the structure of st. machar's now remaining."[111] the dean and chapter (of which barbour, the father of scottish poetry, was a member) taxed themselves for the fabric in sixty pounds annually for ten years; the bishop surrendered revenues worth about twice that sum; the pope in 1380 made a grant of indulgences to all who should help the work. all these appliances but availed to raise the foundations of the nave a few feet above ground.[112] forty years elapsed before bishop leighton (1422-1440) completed the wall of the nave, founded the northern transept, and reared the two western towers.[113] bishop lindsay (1441-1459) paved and roofed the cathedral; it was glazed by bishop spens (1459-1480). bishop elphinstone (1487-1514), who founded king's college in 1500, and who was "the most distinguished of all who ever filled the episcopal chair," ... and possessed "manners and temperance in his own person, befitting the primitive ages of christianity,"[114] adorned the cathedral. he built the great central tower and wooden spire, provided the great bells, and covered the roofs of nave, aisles, and transept with lead.[115] this central tower was four storey high, and square, and had two battlements and fourteen bells; it was a noted landmark to mariners at sea.[116] bishop gavin dunbar (1519-1531) built the southern transept, added spires to leighton's towers, and constructed at his own "pains and expenses" the flat ceiling of oak, which still remains with the heraldries of the pope, the emperor, st. margaret, the kings and princes of christendom, the bishops and the earls of scotland. bishop elphinstone began to rebuild the choir, but it never seems to have been finished. alluding to 1560, orme says, "the glorious structure of said cathedral church, being near nine score years in building, did not remain twenty entire, when it was almost ruined by a crew of sacrilegious church robbers."[117] the ruins of the choir have been entirely removed; of the transepts only the foundations now remain, the architecture being destroyed by the fall of the central tower in 1688. the nave is nearly perfect, and is used as the parish church. the west front, except the spires, is entirely built with granite, and is regarded as one of the most impressive and imposing structures in scotland,[118] and as stately in the severe symmetry of its simple design.[119] there is a remarkable entrance doorway, the jambs being mere rounds and hollows, with a flat stone laid along at the springing of the round arch. above the doorway are seven lofty narrow windows, crowned each with a round and cusped arch, and forming a striking feature of the whole. the clerestory windows are narrow and round arched, without any moulding, while the aisle windows are filled with the simplest tracery. east of the cathedral was the bishop's palace (1470), "a large and fair court, having a high tower at each of its four corners";[120] to the south stood the deanery. aberdeen was created a city or bishop's see by king david,[121] and the diocese contained five deaneries, with 94 parishes. 5. diocese of moray previously to elgin, the see was successively at birnay, kinnedor, and spyny, but without a proper cathedral.[122] alexander i., shortly after his accession in 1107, founded the bishopric, but it was not till the time of bricius, the sixth bishop of moray, who filled that position from 1203 to 1222, that the bishops had any fixed residence in the diocese.[123] when bricius became bishop in 1203, he fixed his cathedral at spyny, founded a chapter of eight secular canons, and gave to his church a constitution founded on the usage of lincoln, which he ascertained by a mission to england.[124] andrew de moravia succeeded him in 1222, and in his time (1224) the transference of the episcopal see and the cathedral of the diocese to elgin was effected, which had probably been designed and solicited by his predecessor.[125] this bishop probably built the cathedral church, munificently endowed it, increased the number of prebends to twenty-three, of which he held one, and sat as a canon in the chapter.[126] the cathedral of the holy trinity was founded in 1224, on the site of an older church with the same dedication, and the work proceeded under bishop andrew's supervision during the eighteen remaining years of his life.[127] the _register_ of the see shows us "master gregory the mason and richard the glazier" at work in autumn 1237.[128] of the building itself probably now little is left, for it is recorded by fordun under the year 1270 that the cathedral of elgin and the houses of the canons were burnt, but whether by accident or design he does not add. the ruins now standing probably date from a subsequent period, when there was raised the stately building, of which bishop alexander bur wrote to the king that it was "the pride of the land, the glory of the realm, the delight of wayfarers and strangers, a praise and boast among foreign nations, lofty in its towers without, splendid in its appointments within, its countless jewels and rich vestments, and the multitude of its priests, serving god in righteousness."[129] this description is taken from a letter addressed to king robert iii., complaining that on the feast of st. botolph, in 1390, the king's own brother, the earl of buchan, popularly known as the "wolf of badenoch," had descended from the hills with a band of wild scots, and burned a considerable part of the town of elgin, st. giles church, the maison dieu, the manses of the clergy, and the cathedral itself. the bishop appealed for aid and reparation, and the "wolf of badenoch" was compelled to yield, but, on condition that he should make satisfaction to the bishop and church of moray and obtain absolution from the pope, he was absolved by the bishop of st. andrews in the blackfriars church at perth. notwithstanding his age and feebleness, bishop bur energetically pressed on the restoration of the cathedral, and it was continued by bishops spynie (1397-1406) and innes (1406-1421), and even then it was not completed. it thus occupied many years, even though it was promoted by grants of the royal favour, by a third part of the whole revenues of the see being devoted to it for a time, and by yearly subsidies being levied on every benefice in a diocese stretching "from the ness to the deveron, from the sea to the passes of lochaber and the central mountains that divide badenoch and athol."[130] early in the sixteenth century the central tower showed signs of weakness, and had to be rebuilt in 1538. it fell in 1711, destroying the nave and transepts.[131] the cathedral of elgin was complete in all arrangements, and had a large nave with double aisles, an extended choir and presbytery, north and south transepts, a lady chapel, and a detached octagonal chapter-house. it had a great tower and spire over the crossing, two beautiful turrets at the east end, and two noble towers at the west end. most of the existing portions are pronounced to belong to the period when scottish architecture was at its best.[132] the existing ruins testify to the former splendour of the completed structure, which was said to be a building of gothic architecture inferior to few in europe. "elgin alone," says dr. joseph robertson, "among the scottish cathedrals of the thirteenth century, had two western towers. they are now shorn of their just height, but still they may be seen from far, lifting their bulk above the pleasant plain of murray, and suggesting what the pile must have been when the amiable and learned florence wilson loved to look upon its magnificence as he meditated his _de animi tranquillitate_ on the banks of the lossie, and when the great central spire soared to twice the altitude of the loftiest pinnacle of ruin that now grieves the eye."[133] the destruction of the cathedral was hastened by the alienation of church lands by bishop patrick hepburn, among the worst of the bishops; by the privy council in 1568 ordering the removal of lead from the roofs; by wind and weather; by cromwell's troops; by an irrational zeal, which in 1630 broke down the carved screen and lovely wood-work; and lastly by the falling of the central tower, which destroyed the whole nave and part of the transepts. the passing away of such a colossal work of beauty is grievous, and not less so when it is recalled that the cathedral expressed the devoted labour of centuries. according to the latest authorities, the following are the probable dates. the transept was erected about 1224, and may possibly have formed part of the original church of the trinity. the western towers followed soon after; the western portal somewhat later. the west part of the north wall of the choir may have been part of the original church, but the general work of choir, nave, and early chapter-house would appear to have been carried out during the thirteenth century, and before the scottish war of independence. the cathedral, thus completed, remained for about a century, when the "wolf of badenoch" deformed or destroyed nave and chapter-house. the west front above the portal and the whole of the nave were reconstructed about the time of bishop dunbar (1422-1435), and the chapter-house by bishop david stewart (1482-1501). the architecture corresponds with their respective periods, and bears their coats of arms, engraved on each department.[134] dr. thomas chalmers considered the ruins of elgin to be the finest remains of antiquity in scotland, and as picturesque in their variety.[135] 6. diocese of brechin the two bishoprics of brechin and dunblane were formed from the old pictish bishopric of abernethy, in so far as its churches were not yet absorbed by the growing bishopric of st. andrews, which immediately succeeded it.[136] abernethy was the last of the bishoprics which existed while the kingdom ruled over by the scottish dynasty was called the kingdom of the picts; st. andrews was associated with that of the scots.[137] abernethy was from the earliest days dedicated to st. bride, and panbride in the diocese of brechin, and kilbride in that of dunblane, indicate, in dr. skene's view, that the veneration of the patroness of abernethy had extended to other churches included in these dioceses.[138] from this old pictish diocese the bishopric of brechin was formed, towards the end of king david's reign, about 1150.[139] the church of brechin has no claim to represent an old columban monastery:[140] its origin as a church is clearly recorded in the pictish chronicle, which states that king kenneth, son of malcolm, who reigned from 971 to 995, gave "the great city of brechin to the lord," founding a church to the holy trinity, a monastery apparently after the irish model, combined with a culdee college. we hear of it next in two charters of david i. to the church of deer, and in the second of these the "abbot" of the first appears as "bishop of brechin" (about 1150). the abbacy passed to lay hereditary bishops, and the culdees were first conjoined with, next distinguished from, and at last superseded by, the cathedral chapter.[141] the early church of brechin emanated from the irish church, and was assimilated in its character to the irish monastery. of the early connection, there still survives at brechin the famous round tower, which now occupies the place of a spire at the south-west angle of the present church. this, with the older one at abernethy, and the ruined one at egilshay in orkney, are the only surviving types in scotland. there were said to have been four others, which are no longer existing, viz. deerness in orkney; west burray, tingwall, and ireland head, in shetland.[142] dr. skene gives the date of the abernethy one as about 870, or between that year and the close of the century, and asserts that the date of the brechin tower can be placed with some degree of certainty late in the succeeding century.[143] probably it was erected in the reign of kenneth (971-995), or about 1012, when brechin was destroyed by the danes.[144] egilshay probably dates about 1098.[145] the brechin tower is capped by a conical stone roof. dr. joseph anderson shows that those round towers are outliers of a group of which ireland is the home;[146] and they were erected during the time when the celtic church was much perplexed by the pillaging attacks of the danes, that the ecclesiastics might protect their valuable illuminated manuscripts, and other costly possessions. the brechin one corresponds with the irish ones, and is built in sixty irregular courses, of blocks of reddish-grey sandstone, dressed to the curve, but squared at neither top nor bottom; within, string-courses divide it into seven storeys, the topmost lighted by four largish apertures facing the cardinal points. a western doorway, 6-2/3 feet from the ground, has inclined jambs and a semicircular head, all three hewn from single blocks, and the arch being rudely sculptured with a crucifix, each jamb with a bishop bearing a pastoral staff, and each corner of the sill with a nondescript crouching animal.[147] the sculpture on the graceful tower of brechin was, there as elsewhere, the repetition in stone of the illuminated page of the celtic scribe, who in turn repeated many of the graceful and varied designs of the pre-christian worker in bronze and gold,[148] adding to them christian symbols. dr. joseph anderson finds in the figures of the crouching beast and winged griffin at brechin a close affinity to the figures of nondescript creatures carved on the early sculptured memorial stones.[149] the cathedral, founded about 1150, and added to at various periods, was originally a cruciform structure, consisting of a five-bayed nave with two aisles, late first pointed mixed with second pointed; a transept formed by an extension of these aisles to the north and south; an aisleless choir (with lancet windows), the ruins of which are a fine example of first pointed work,[150] and which when complete must have been a very pure and beautiful piece of architecture. the north-west tower was being constructed in the time of bishop patrick (1351-1373), but must have been a long time in erection. the western doorway presents the oldest feature of the existing building,[151] and is simple and massive. the tower and spire are pronounced to be the completest and best remaining example of their kind in scotland.[152] by the alteration of 1806 the choir was reduced, the transepts demolished, new and wider aisles built on each side of the nave, while the outer walls of the aisles were carried to such a height that the whole nave could be covered with a roof of one span, "thus totally eclipsing the beautiful windows in the nave, and covering up the handsome carved cornice of the nail-head quatrefoil description which ran under the eaves of the nave."[153] the cathedral was thus sadly deformed, but plans of restoration have been recently adopted, funds are being raised, and the noble minster will before long be restored to its former grandeur. the diocese contained thirty parishes, and the bishop sat in the chapter as rector of brechin, that being his prebend.[154] the maison dieu formed part of a hospital, and is an interesting part of first pointed work. the rector of the grammar school is still "praeceptor domus dei." 7. diocese of dunblane dunblane was an early ecclesiastical centre. its first church dates back to the seventh century, and seems to have been an offshoot of the church of kingarth in bute, the founder of which was st. blane, whose name is perpetuated in that of the cathedral town.[155] st. blane was of the race of the irish picts, and "bishop" of the church of kingarth which cathan his uncle had founded. the church at dunblane seems to have had a chequered history, for the ancient town was burned (844-860) by the britons of strathclyde, and in 912 was again ravished by danish pirates. bishop keith thinks there was a college of culdees at dunblane,[156] but we do not hear anything about it in history, and the important college was at muthill, where the dean of dunblane afterwards had his seat. centres of the celtic church were also at the neighbouring blackford, strageath, and dunning, and they all served their day, until the new order, inaugurated by queen margaret and continued by her successors on the scottish throne, was established in the district. about 1150, king david i. established the bishopric of dunblane, and about 1198 earl gilbert and his countess introduced canons-regular by the foundation of the priory of inchaffray. under the growing importance of these centres, the possession of the keledei fell into lay hands, and after 1214 the prior and keledei of muthill disappear from the records.[157] the square tower of dunblane, which still survives, is a relic of the structure erected in the twelfth century,[158] and is one of the group, centred in early pictavia, revealing characteristics of norman work, and all connected with the sites of early culdee establishments. those north of the tay are at brechin and restennet; those south of it, at st. andrews (regulus), markinch, and dunblane; abernethy, muthill, and dunning.[159] the lower four storeys of the dunblane tower form part of the original structure; the two highest are evidently of a late date;[160] the walls are not parallel with those of the nave, and the tower projects into the south aisle from 6 to 7 feet, and may have been associated with an earlier church. the see seems to have fallen into a forlorn condition, for when the learned dominican, clement, was bishop (1233-1258), he made a pilgrimage to rome, and represented to the pope among other things that "its rents were barely sufficient to maintain him for six months; there was no place in the cathedral wherein he could lay his head; there was no collegiate establishment, and that in this unroofed church, the divine offices were celebrated by a certain rural chaplain."[161] evidently the fourth part of the tithes of all the parishes within the diocese were given for the support of the bishop and the building of the cathedral, and he left it "a stately sanctuary, rich in land and heritage, served by prebendary and canon." bishop clement built the nave, the most beautiful part of the structure, but later in its architecture than the north aisle of the choir or lady chapel, which was originally separated from the choir by a solid wall, in which there never was any opening into the aisle except the small doorway near the east end, which is of first pointed date.[162] above the vault there is an upper storey with small two-lighted windows, which may possibly have been used as a scriptorium.[163] the cathedral consists of a nave of eight bays, with north and south aisles, an aisleless choir of six bays, an eastern aisle unconnected with the choir except by a doorway, and the tower attached to the south aisle of nave. the following is a narrative of the building of the cathedral as given by the most recent authorities. "the greater part of the structure is of first pointed date. the lady chapel may be the oldest part (after the tower), and next to it is the east portion of the nave. the western half of the nave seems to have followed soon after the eastern portion, and is carried out nearly after the same design. the transition tracery in the arcade of the clerestory and west end is very interesting, as showing bar tracery in the act of being formed. this could scarcely have occurred in scotland before the end of the thirteenth century. the style of the choir is further advanced than the nave, and exhibits some transitional features between first pointed and decorated work. the great east window and the large side windows of the choir probably contained tracery more advanced than that of the west end, and may probably date from the fourteenth century. the pinnacles and parapet are of about 1500."[164] the west end, with its doorway, deeply recessed with shafts and mouldings of first pointed work, with an acutely pointed blind arch on each side with trefoiled head within it; with three lofty pointed windows, each divided into two lights by a central mullion, and with arch-heads filled with cinquefoil and quatrefoils; with north buttress so large as to contain a wheel stair--is the finest part of the cathedral. above the western window is a vesica, set within a bevilled fringe of bay-leaves arranged zigzagwise, with their points in contact. of this ruskin said in his lecture,[165] "do you recollect the west window of your own dunblane cathedral? it is acknowledged to be beautiful by the most careless observer. and why beautiful? simply because in its great contours it has the form of a forest leaf, and because in its decoration it has used nothing but forest leaves. he was no common man who designed that cathedral of dunblane. i know nothing so perfect in its simplicity, and so beautiful, so far as it reaches, in all the gothic with which i am acquainted. and just in proportion to his power of mind, that man was content to work under nature's teaching, and, instead of putting a merely formal dog-tooth, as everybody else did at that time, he went down to the woody bank of the sweet river beneath the rocks on which he was building, and he took up a few of the fallen leaves that lay by it, and he set them in his arch, side by side for ever." six of the stalls with, and several others without, canopies still survive, and on one of the misereres are the arms of the chisholm family, surmounted by a mitre. three bishops of this name presided in dunblane,[166] and the stalls were probably provided by the first, bishop james chisholm, dating between 1486 and 1534. the stalls were probably brought from flanders, and the carving is spirited and full of grotesque figures.[167] other bishops, who ought gratefully to be remembered for building done, are bishop dermoch (1400-1419) and bishop ochiltree (1429-1447). maurice, abbot of inchaffray and bishop of dunblane (1320-1347), is described as a man of fervent spirit, who gave great encouragement at the battle of bannockburn, and was chosen by king robert the bruce as his chaplain and confessor.[168] there are some vestiges of the bishop's palace still left to the south-west of the cathedral; and the bishop's walk, leading southward not far from the river, and overshadowed by venerable beech trees, will always be associated with leighton, of whom burnet wrote, "he had the most heavenly disposition that i ever yet saw in mortal ... and i never once saw him in any other temper but that which i wished to be in, in the last moments of my life."[169] leighton was bishop of dunblane from 1661 to 1670, and chose it as the poorest and smallest of scotland's sees. at his death he bequeathed to it his library, which is still preserved. those who wish to understand his devotion and inner life may be directed to dr. walter smith's beautiful poem _the bishop's walk_. until recently, only the choir was used as the parish church, but in 1893 the cathedral was reopened after a complete restoration costing £28,000. the restoration was largely due to the munificent generosity of mrs. wallace of glassingall. the town bears witness to the influence of the cathedral- a quaint old place--a minster grey, and grey old town that winds away through gardens, down the sloping ridge to river's brim and ancient bridge, where the still waters flow to the deep pool below.[170] 8. diocese of ross david i. followed the foundation of the great bishoprics by dividing the country north of the great range of the mounth into separate sees, and the first of such appears to have been the diocese of rosemarky or ross. makbeth, the first bishop of ross, appears as the witness to a charter between 1128 and 1130.[171] the church was founded as a columban monastery by lugadius or moluoc of lismore before 577, and bonifacius refounded it in the eighth century, and dedicated the church to st. peter. the culdees disappear in the course of history, and instead there emerges a regular cathedral body of canons under a dean.[172] the bishop of ross had this peculiarity, that he took his title from the province, and not from the town, where he held his see. when the see was founded by david i., rosmarkie continued as the cathedral centre, but after the chapter was enlarged by gregory ix. in 1235, the cathedral site was changed to fortrose or chanonry, and the church was dedicated to ss. peter and bonifacius. chanonry is half a mile south-westward from rosemarkie, and was united with it in 1455 by james ii. as a free burgh under the common name of fortrose. the presence of an educated clergy made the place a centre of culture, and famous schools of divinity and law flourished under the shadow of the cathedral. the undercroft of the sacristy (afterwards enlarged) seems to indicate that the work must have been begun before 1250,[173] but the architecture of the aisle presents a beautiful specimen of the middle pointed or decorated period, and dates before or about the beginning of the fifteenth century.[174] the cathedral, when entire, was a handsome red sandstone building, comprising a nave of four bays, with aisles 14 feet wide and round-headed windows; a choir, with aisles, lady chapel, west tower, quasi-transept, rood-turret, and to the north-east a vaulted chapter-house over a crypt. it stood on level ground, and commanded a fine view of the moray firth. when complete it must have been an architectural gem, and its mouldings have been said to show that in whatever other respects these remote parts of scotland were barbarous, in ecclesiology at least they were on a par with any other branch of the mediæval church.[175] all that now remains of the cathedral consists of the south aisle of the nave, and the sacristy or undercroft of the chapter-house. no vestige remains of the various manses of the chapter that were within the cathedral precincts. the cathedral suffered at the reformation, but was repaired by bishop lindsay in 1615, and in 1649 was not very ruinous. it would appear that the tradition is correct which says that the masonry of the walls was removed by cromwell, like that of kinloss abbey, to provide material for the construction of his fort at inverness. in the south wall there is a beautiful piscina, and in the north wall an ambry with a small stone penthouse; an octagonal baptismal font of remarkable design stands against the east wall of the aisle. there is a range of canopied monuments, which stand between the pillars on the north side. the east end had a large traceried window of five lights, and when complete it must have been very beautiful. the most famous of the bishops was john leslie (1527-1596), who studied at king's college, aberdeen, at paris, and at poitiers. he held offices both in the aberdeen university and in the state, and in 1566 queen mary bestowed on him the abbey of lindores _in commendam_, and subsequently appointed him bishop of ross. he was a zealous supporter of queen mary, and, after her flight to england, followed her, and never afterwards returned to reside in scotland. he was imprisoned in the tower,[176] where he wrote two small books for her spiritual profit, which queen mary liked and endeavoured to turn into french verse. after his release he retired to france, where he wrote his _history of scotland_. on the day before her execution, queen mary wrote to philip of spain, beseeching him to show kindness to the bishop of ross for his faithful and devoted services to her. the request was complied with, and he was able to end his days tranquilly in a monastery near brussels. it is said that the bishop persuaded the queen in 1565 to grant to all men a liberty of conscience.[177] 9. diocese of caithness the early history of the church in caithness points to a time before the northmen had any footing there, and connects it with the missionaries of ireland and scotland. the legend of st. finbar or st. barr marks the settlement of some irish colonists, who brought with them the veneration they had rendered in their old country to the patron saint of their tribe or province.[178] ss. duthac and fergus are also associated with the church of the district during the celtic period, and during the time of the former keledei they may have been introduced here. the early church of dornoch was dedicated to st. bar or finbar, and before 1196 the culdees had disappeared, and the clerical element was reduced to a single priest.[179] the deed establishing a cathedral chapter of ten canons, with dean, precentor, chancellor, treasurer, and archdeacon, proceeds on the narrative "that in the times of his (bishop gilbert's) predecessors there was but a single priest ministering in the cathedral, both on account of the poverty of the place and by reason of frequent hostilities; and that he desired to extend the worship of god in that church, and resolved to build a cathedral church at his own expense, to dedicate it to the virgin mary, and, in proportion to his limited means, to make it conventual."[180] this benefactor of dornoch was bishop gilbert de moravia (1222-1245), who organised the chapter after the pattern of elgin, which again had lincoln for its model; and although the see of caithness is first heard of about 1130, to him is due the credit of rebuilding the cathedral, which consisted of an aisled nave, transept, choir, and massive central tower, with dwarfish spire. the old cathedral town, with its society of learned churchmen, maintaining a high position by their influence and example, cultivating letters, preaching peace and practising it, must have been a centre of good in the north, and bishop gilbert's name deserves to be honourably remembered for his statesmanship, beneficence, and christian character. "he rests," says the breviary of aberdeen, "in the church which he built _with his own hands_"; even the glass was manufactured at cyderhall under his personal supervision.[181] the tower is all that remains of bishop gilbert's work, for the cathedral was burnt in 1570; the tower escaped with some fine gothic arches which fell before the terrific gale of 5th november 1605--the day on which the gunpowder plot was discovered. in 1614 the 13th earl of sutherland partially repaired the cathedral, to make it available for the parish church, and in 1835-1837 it was rebuilt by the duchess of sutherland at a cost of £6000. it had thus the misfortune to be restored at a time when church restoration in scotland was at its lowest ebb. "the blame really attaches to those whom she entrusted with the execution of her design."[182] the structure is now used as the parish church of dornoch. the square tower of the bishop's palace still survives. 10. diocese of galloway the name of whithorn is a venerable one in scottish church history. it is mentioned by ptolemy, the alexandrian geographer, in the second century as leukopibia, a town of the novantae. the greek name is synonymous with the latin candida casa or "white house," under which designation it was latterly known. it is associated with the first known apostle of christianity in scotland, st. ninian, who was probably born here about the middle of the fourth century. of studious and ascetic habits, he visited rome, and on his homeward journey visited st. martin of tours, who died in 397. after his arrival in scotland, he founded the candida casa or church of whithorn, dedicated it to st. martin, and, although christianity was probably known in scotland before his time, his work is the first distinct fact in the history of the scottish church. after preaching the gospel among the southern picts, he died in 432, and was buried within his church at whithorn. it is a matter of dispute, whether this first christian oratory was built, after the custom of the early scottish church, on a small island or peninsula at the point of the promontory which lies between the bays of luce and wigtown, about three miles south from whithorn, or on the spot where the monastery afterwards arose. there are the ruins of a small chapel on "the isle," and although belonging to a later date, it is more than probable that it was the successor of st. ninian's first church. whithorn was famous also for its early schools and monastery, and exercised no small influence in christianising both the surrounding district and northumbria, or what is now known as the northerly parts of england. a bishopric of whithorn was founded by the angles in 727, was held by five successive bishops, and came to an end about 796, when the disorganisation of the northumbrian kingdom enabled the native population to eject the strangers and assert their own independence. during the reign of david i. (1124-1153), fergus, lord of galloway, re-established the see of galloway, and founded at whithorn a premonstratensian priory, whose church became the cathedral, and contained the shrine of st. ninian. the see included the whole of wigtownshire and the greater part of kirkcudbrightshire; the bishop remained under the jurisdiction of the archbishop of york till at least the fourteenth century, and in 1472 became suffragan of st. andrews. in 1491, when glasgow became a metropolitan see, the bishop of galloway became a vicar-general of it during vacancies. the canons of whithorn priory formed the chapter of the see of galloway, and the prior ranked next to the bishop; the diocese was divided into three rural deaneries. the shrine of st. ninian became a place of pilgrimage for people from all parts of scotland, and was visited by scottish queens and kings--james iv. visited it generally once and frequently twice a year throughout his whole reign. the priory became wealthy, and the church and other buildings were of great extent. among its priors may be mentioned gavin dunbar (1514), who was tutor to james v. and afterwards archbishop of glasgow; and james beaton, who was prior and afterwards bishop of galloway, was advanced to the archbishopric of glasgow in 1509, and of st. andrews in 1522. the buildings of the priory are now reduced to the nave--an aisleless structure--and to some underground vaulted buildings, which no doubt formerly supported the choir and other erections above.[183] the west tower fell in the beginning of last century; the cloister lay to the north of the nave; the chapter-house, slype, and site of domestic buildings extended to the north of the transept. the north wall of the nave interior contains two pointed recesses for monuments, which are of excellent design. at the south-west angle of the nave is a doorway which is undoubtedly norman,[184] and the sculptures on the right and left of the projecting wall point to a close affinity between the sculptured figures on the ancient stones and the architecture of the twelfth century in scotland.[185] the ancient font, probably of norman date, bowl-shaped, and of simple design, has been preserved in the church, and st. ninian's cave--probably a place of religious retirement--about three miles south-east of the village, contains some very old stone crosses, and on its east wall some very old inscriptions, a number of which are partly unintelligible by being covered with more recent ones. the neighbourhood will always be associated with st. ninian, the apostle of the britons and of the southern picts, and may be called the historical fountain-head of the scottish church. 11. diocese of lismore or argyll lismore is an ancient settlement, and is the epidium of ptolemy, one of his five ebudae.[186] the island lies near the south end of loch linnhe, and at a short distance from the mainland of argyllshire. the bishopric was formed about 1200 by the separation of the districts, belonging to the bishopric of dunkeld, which lay to the west of the great range of drumalban. eraldus was the first bishop of argyll, and had his seat at muckairn, while his church bore the name of killespeckerill, or the church of bishop erailt.[187] it is possible that some of the keledei from dunkeld may have accompanied the new bishop and been established there. in 1236 the see was transferred from muckairn, on the south side of loch etive, to lismore, where, long before, a columban monastery had been founded by st. lughadh or moluoc. the see was afterwards known as the bishopric of lismore, and contained the following deaneries: kintyre, with twelve parishes; glassary or glasrod, with thirteen; lorn, with fourteen; and morvern, with eight.[188] the cathedral was perhaps the humblest in britain, and was probably erected soon after the transference of the see in the thirteenth century. it is said to have been a structure 137 feet long by 29-1/3 wide, but of this there only now survives an aisleless choir, with traces of a chapter-house and sacristy; and, as re-roofed in 1749, this choir now serves as a parish church. it has four buttresses of simple form against the south wall, and two at each of the north and south angles of the east wall. in the south wall, and in the usual position near the east end, there are remains of a triple sedilia; there is a piscina in a pointed recess, having a trefoil-headed niche in the wall behind.[189] one of the deans of lismore, sir james macgregor, between 1512 and 1540, compiled a commonplace book, filled chiefly with gaelic heroic ballads, several of which are ascribed to the authorship of ossian. 12. diocese of the isles the history of iona is associated with st. columba, and, although its church did not attain full cathedral status until 1506, the island was one of the earliest centres of christianity in scotland. st. columba (columcille or colm) was born at gartan, county donegal, 7th december 521, and was the son of a chief related to several of the princes then reigning in ireland and the west of scotland. he studied under st. finnian at moville, and under another of the same name at clonard. in 546 he founded the monastery of derry, and in 553 that of durrow. the belief that he had caused the bloody battle of culdremhne led to his excommunication and exile from his native land, and, accompanied by twelve disciples, he left ireland and sailed for the western islands, settling ultimately at iona, where he and his companions began their work among the heathen picts. the legend of his perpetual exile seems to be a fable, and dr. skene adds, "his real motive for undertaking this mission seems therefore to have been partly religious and partly political. he was one of the twelve apostles of ireland who had emerged from the school of finnian of clonard, and he no doubt shared the missionary spirit which so deeply characterised the monastic church of ireland at that period. he was also closely connected through his grandmother with the line of the dalriadic kings, and, as an irishman, must have been interested in the maintenance of the irish colony in the west of scotland. separated from him by the irish channel was the great pagan nation of the northern picts, who, under a powerful king, had just inflicted a crushing defeat upon the scots of dalriada, and threatened their expulsion from the country; and, while his missionary zeal impelled him to attempt the conversion of the picts, he must have felt that, if he succeeded in winning a pagan people to the religion of christ, he would at the same time rescue the irish colony of dalriada from a great danger, and render them an important service by establishing peaceable relations between them and their greatly more numerous and powerful neighbours, and replacing them in the more secure possession of the western districts they had colonised."[190] it was in 563, and at the age of forty-two, that he settled at iona and commenced his mission-work by founding his monastery[191] there. he met there "two bishops," who came to receive his submission from him, but "god now revealed to columcille that they were not true bishops, whereupon they left the island to him, when he told of them their history." they were, thinks dr. skene, the remains of that anomalous church of seven bishops which here, as elsewhere, preceded the monastic church, while columba appears to have refused to recognise them as such, and the island was abandoned to him. possessed as he was with the soul of a poet, and susceptible to the impressive in nature, columba could not have chosen a finer spot than iona for his work, or one where he could better combine with missionary activity a life of purity and self-denial. tradition says he landed at the bay now known as port-a-churaich, and proceeded to found the monastery and establish the church which was ultimately to embrace in its jurisdiction the whole of scotland north of the firths of forth and clyde, to be for a century and a half the national church of scotland, and to give to the angles of northumbria the same form of christianity for a period of thirty years. the buildings that now remain are of much later date, but it may be inferred that in its constitution, spirit, and work the columban church was not isolated, but was in reality a mission from the irish church, formed an integral part of it, and never lost its connection with it. the principal buildings were constructed of wood and wattles, and were originally (1) a monastery with a small court, on one side of which was the church, with a small side chamber, on a second side the guest-chamber, on the third a refectory, and on the fourth dwellings of the monks; a little way off on the highest part of the ground were (2) the cell of st. columba, where he sat and read or wrote during the day, and slept at night on the bare ground with a stone for his pillow; and (3) various subsidiary buildings, including a kiln, a mill, a barn, all surrounded by a rampart or rath. not far off was a sequestered hollow (cabhan cuildeach) to which columba retired for solitary prayer. the mill has left its traces in the small stream to the north of the present cathedral ruins, and remains of old causeways may be traced from the landing places of port-na-martir, port-ronan, and port-na-muintir. all the early buildings, except the kiln, were of wood; the guest-chamber was wattled, columba's cell was made of planks, and the church was of oak. the members of the community were termed brethren, and were addressed by columba as familia or chosen monks. they consisted of three classes: (1) the older brethren, who devoted themselves to the religious services of the church, and to reading and transcribing the scriptures; (2) the younger and stronger working brothers, who devoted themselves to agriculture and the service of the monastery; (3) the alumni or youth, who were under instruction. the dress of the monks consisted of a white tunica or undergarment, over which they wore a camilla, consisting of a body and hood made of wool, and of the natural colour of the material. when working or travelling their feet were shod with sandals; they took a solemn monastic vow on bended knees in the oratorium, were tonsured from ear to ear--the fore part of the head being made bare, and the hair allowed to grow only on the back part of the head. the church of iona was monastic, and in it we find neither a territorial episcopacy nor a presbyterian parity. the bishops were under the monastic rule, and were, in respect of jurisdiction, subject to the abbot, even though a presbyter, as the head of the monastery; the privilege of the episcopate was not interfered with.[192] the monastery was described as a "gloriosum caenobium." columba made iona his centre of activity, but his labours were not confined to it. he travelled with his companions and preached the gospel as far north as inverness, where king brude was converted. he also preached among the southern picts, and a church was built at abernethy by king gartnaidh, as an outcome of his mission and as a memorial of his labours. he was also a far-seeing statesman, and succeeded in reconciling the feuds of the northern and southern picts, and in making the two kingdoms one. his life was spent in missionary activity and beneficent service, and he died at iona. the day before his death he "ascended the hill that overlooketh the monastery, and stood for some little time on its summit, and as he stood there with both hands uplifted, he blessed his monastery, saying, 'small and mean though this place is, yet it shall be held in great and unusual honour, not only by scotic kings and people, but also by the rulers of foreign and barbarous nations, and by their subjects; the saints also, even of other churches, shall regard it with no common reverence.'" on the following day, at nocturnal vigils, he went into the church, and knelt down in prayer beside the altar, and "his attendant diormit, who more slowly followed him, saw from a distance that the whole interior of the church was filled with a heavenly light in the direction of the saint," which, as he drew near, quickly disappeared. "feeling his way in the darkness, as the brethren had not yet brought in the lights, he found the saint lying before the altar," and all the monks coming in, columba moved his hand to give them his benediction, and died 9th june 597, while "the whole church resounded with loud lamentations of grief." he left behind him an imperishable memory in the hearts of the people converted by him to the christian faith, and in the national church which he so splendidly helped to build up. he wrote an altus, and is said to have copied 300 books with his own hand. he was buried at iona. after columba's death, the monastery of iona appears to have been the acknowledged head of all the monasteries and churches which his mission had founded in scotland, as well as of those previously founded by him in ireland. it was a centre of light and life, but the monks were not permitted to pursue their work unmolested. the monastery was burned and plundered by the sea-pirates in 795, 798, and 802; in 806 sixty-eight of the community were ruthlessly slain. the monks remaining were filled with fear, and before 807 the relics of st. columba were carried away to ireland, and enshrined at kells. in 818 they were brought back, and the monastery at iona was rebuilt with stone. the danes, however, granted little respite, and in 878 the relics were again removed, and were probably placed first at dunkeld and afterwards at abernethy,[193] where the primacy was successively established, and a memorial of which exists in the abernethy round tower. the plundering continued at intervals, and the buildings were more or less ruinous till about 1074, when queen margaret "restored the monastery, ... rebuilt it, and furnished it with monks, with an endowment for performing the lord's work." "one of the present buildings," said the late duke of argyll--"the least and the most inconspicuous, but the most venerable of them all--st. odhrain's chapel, may possibly be the same building which queen margaret of scotland is known to have erected in memory of the saint, and dedicated to one of the most famous of his companions. but queen margaret died in a.d. 1092, and therefore any building which she erected must date very nearly five hundred years after columba's death; that is to say, the most ancient building which exists upon iona must be separated in age from columba's time by as many centuries as those which now separate us from edward iii. but st. odhrain's chapel has this great interest--that in all probability it marks the site of the still humbler church of wood and wattles in which columba worshipped."[194] shortly afterwards the island passed into the possession of magnus barefoot, king of norway, and in 1099 the old order culminated in the death of abbot duncan, the last of the old abbots. under the bishopric of man and the isles, the monastery became subject to the bishop of drontheim till 1156, when somerled won it, and once more restored the connection between iona and ireland by placing the monastery under the care of the abbot of derry. in 1164 the community was represented by the priest, the lector, the head of the culdees, and the disertach or the head of the disert for the reception of pilgrims.[195] somerled appears to have rebuilt the ruined monastery on a larger scale, and about 1203 the lord of the isles (reginald) adopted the policy of the scottish kings, and founded at iona a monastery of benedictine monks (tyronenses), and at the same time a nunnery for benedictine nuns, of which beatrice, sister of reginald, was first prioress. it is of this benedictine monastery and nunnery that the present ruins are the remains, and they were formerly connected by a causeway which extended from the nunnery to the monastery. after a struggle, the culdees seem to have conformed to the new order of benedictines, and the head of the culdees was represented by the prior of iona, whom we afterwards find in the monastery. iona was suffragan to the bishop of man and the isles till 1431, when the abbot of iona made obedience to the bishop of dunkeld. in 1498, the isles were made suffragan to st. andrews; in 1506 they passed back to the care of the bishop of the isles; and from that date till the reformation the abbey church became the cathedral church of the diocese. in 1648 charles i. granted the island to archibald, marquis of argyll,[196] and it still belongs to his descendant, the duke of argyll. the diocese contained forty-four parishes. surrounding the chapel of st. oran is a very ancient churchyard, containing beautiful specimens of highland carved tombstones, and near which reposes the dust of scotch, irish, and norwegian kings and ecclesiastics. the late duke of argyll both preserved and restored, and the foundations of the chapels and cloisters have been plainly marked out, and give a clear idea of the original plan of the abbey. the abbey or cathedral, although begun in the twelfth century, took a long time in building, was altered and added to, and is classed with the buildings of the third pointed period, as the greater part of the work connected with it belongs to a late date.[197] it is cruciform in shape, consisting of nave, transepts, and choir, with sacristy on the north side of the choir, and aisle on the south. near the west entrance was a small chamber called st. columba's tomb. over the crossing is a square tower, 70 feet high, and supported by arches resting on four pillars. it is lighted on one side by a window formed by a slab with quatrefoil openings, and on the other by a marigold or catherine-wheel window with spiral mullions. the capitals of the pillars are carved with beautiful ornamentation and grotesque figures, which are still sharp and well defined.[198] there are three sedilia, and the high altar seems to have been of marble. north of the nave is the cloister-garth; to the north and east of the cloisters are the refectory and chapter-house; the building over the chapter-house was the library, which was large and valuable. there were said to be many crosses in iona; the entire ones are st. martin's cross, opposite the west door of the abbey church, and maclean's cross, on the wayside between the nunnery and the cathedral. there are the ruins of a small detached chapel to the north-east of the chapter-house, and of another to the west of the cloister: to the north-east of the cloister lie the total ruins of what is called the abbot's house.[199] a short distance north-east of the abbey church, at cladh-an-diseart, there was found in 1872 a heart-shaped stone, with an incised cross on it, which dr. skene is disposed to think was the stone used by st. columba as a pillow.[200] the ruins of the nunnery, of which beatrice, sister of reginald, was the first abbess, and which was apparently erected soon after 1203, consist of a quadrangle about 68 feet square, having the church on the north side, foundations of the chapter-house and other apartments on the east side, and the refectory on the south side. there may have been other buildings on the west side, as the walls are broken at the ends; but if so, they are now removed.[201] the church was an oblong structure, divided into nave and choir, and had a northern aisle extending along both. at a distance of about 30 feet north of the convent church stand the ruins of another building, said to have been the parish church. it was a simple oblong chamber, and was dedicated to st. ronan.[202] lovely carved work has been found around the buildings, and these are carefully preserved and have been reproduced in illustration.[203] these designs were probably carved on stone from the beautiful illuminated tracery which the celtic monks executed in their scriptorium. no ruthless destruction about the reformation period could deprive iona of its three great voices of the mountain, the sky, and the sea. that st. columba's poetic nature and susceptible heart were impressed by them is beyond doubt, for they survive in his poem- delightful would it be to me to be in uchd ailiun on the pinnacle of a rock, that i might often see the face of the ocean: that i might see its heaving waves over the wide ocean, when they chant music to their father upon the world's course: that i might see its level sparkling strand, it would be no cause of sorrow: that i might hear the song of the wonderful birds, source of happiness: that i might hear the thunder of the crowding waves upon the rocks: that i might hear the roar by the side of the church of the surrounding sea: . . . . . that i might bless the lord who conserves all, heaven with its countless bright orders, land, strand, and flood: . . . . . at times kneeling to beloved heaven: at times at psalm singing: at times contemplating the king of heaven, holy the chief: at times at work without compulsion; this would be delightful.[204] thus iona, the isle of the saints, the lamp lit amid the darkness of the western sea, impressed the founder as he heard its voices. may there soon be added another, the voice of the restored cathedral, connecting the present with a glorious past, carrying us away in thought by its architecture to earlier days, and by its situation to the hour when the great apostle of the picts first landed on its shores. this may at no distant future be realised, since the late duke of argyll gifted the ruined cathedral to the church of scotland, which hopes to do for it what has already been done for dunblane. 13. diocese of orkney christianity reached the orkneys through the labours of the columban clergy, and there are many traces in the islands that speak of their work. under the rule of the norse, in the ninth and tenth centuries any christian influence that survived from the labours of such early pioneers of the christian faith must have died out. the first actual bishop of orkney was william the old, who was consecrated in 1102, held the bishopric for sixty-six years, and died in 1168. his see was first at birsay, and was removed to kirkwall on the erection of the cathedral in 1137-1152. the bishop of orkney was one of the suffragans of the metropolitan see at throndhjeim, erected in 1154. in 1472 the see of orkney was placed under the metropolitan bishop of st. andrews. the story of the foundation at kirkwall is as follows. the possession of the orkneys was divided between two relatives, and about the beginning of the twelfth century two cousins, hacon and magnus, shared the government. in 1115 magnus was treacherously slain at egilsay by hacon, who thus obtained the whole earldom. rognvald, son of magnus' sister, became a claimant for magnus' share of the earldom, and vowed that if he succeeded he would erect a "stone minster" in honour of his predecessor st. magnus, who had been canonised. rognvald was successful, and fulfilled his vow by founding at kirkwall a cathedral dedicated to st. magnus. the building was designed and superintended by the norwegian kol, the father of rognvald; the relics of st. magnus were brought from christ's kirk in birsay, to be deposited in the cathedral as soon as it was prepared to receive them, and until the work was finished they rested in the church of st. olaf, an older edifice which then existed in kirkwall.[205] "the cathedral of st. magnus was thus designed and erected by a norwegian earl, while the bishopric was under the authority of the norwegian metropolitan of throndhjeim. it is thus practically a norwegian edifice, and is by far the grandest monument of the rule of the norsemen in orkney. in these circumstances, it is not to be expected that the architecture should in every detail follow the contemporary styles which prevailed in britain, but it is astonishing to find how closely the earlier parts correspond with the architecture of normandy, which was developed by a kindred race,--the successors of rollo and his rovers, who settled in that country at an earlier date. there can be little doubt that the romanesque architecture which prevailed in the north of europe found its way at a comparatively late date into scandinavia. the norman form of that style would naturally follow the same course amongst the kindred races in norway and denmark, just as it did in england and scotland, and from norway it would be transplanted into scotland."[206] kirkwall cathedral, begun in 1137, was carried on with great expedition, unlike glasgow cathedral, which took so long in completion that it gave rise to a proverb, "like st. mungo's work, it will never be finished." the orcadians did their work nobly, and when a difficulty arose as to funds, it was overcome by allowing the proprietors of land in orkney to redeem their property by a single payment of a sum per acre, paid at once, instead of according to the usual practice, on each succession.[207] help was received from far and wide, and the building was so liberally sped by the oblations of a past age, that all christendom was popularly said to have paid tribute for its erection;[208] but the spirit of religion must have been fervid in the islands themselves. the earl who founded the cathedral died after a pilgrimage to rome and jerusalem. "he had begun his high church on no mean scale, and it was afterwards greatly enlarged in length. to this circumstance, together with its severe simplicity, its narrowness, its height, and the multiplicity of its parts, must be ascribed the most striking characteristic of the pile--its apparent vastness."[209] it has been doubted if either york or lincoln gives the _idea_ of greater internal length, though kirkwall measures less by half than the smaller of these minsters. as pointed out by the latest authorities on the cathedral, its western doorways recall the portals of the cathedrals of france rather than those of england; its interior gives the impression of great size, arising from the height and length of the building as compared with its width; the exterior presents at a glance the changes which have taken place in it, and the layers and masses of different coloured stones tell their own tale; the oldest work (comprising several periods) is constructed with dark slaty stone, having red freestone dressings; the norman work is observed in the transept and several bays of the nave and choir nearest the transept, while the pointed work is specially noticeable in the eastern half of the choir.[210] the first parts of the cathedral built were the three westmost or norman bays of the choir, with their aisles, both the transepts, the crossing (afterwards altered) intended to receive a tower over it, and two bays of the nave, which served to form an abutment for the crossing. these portions, where unaltered, are said to be in the earliest style of norman work in the edifice. the round piers and responds of the choir, the two south piers and one north pier of the nave (with their cushion caps), the main arches (with their label mouldings in the choir and transept), the round arched and labelled windows in choir, transept, and nave, and the interlaced arcades in the nave, all point to a somewhat advanced period of norman work. the choir originally terminated with a central apse beyond the third pier. the norman windows of the choir aisle have three external orders, with a label ornament in the outer order; the single shafts have cushion caps; the windows are largely splayed internally.[211] an interlacing arcade of round arches, with single shafts and cushion caps (some with volutes) runs round the north, south, and west sides of the transept. the large arches leading into the east chapels are part of the original structure, but the chapels were built later. the lower string-course of the transept is enriched with a four-leaved flower.[212] after the completion of these portions, attention was given to the continuation of the nave westwards for several bays. the north aisle wall opposite the three bays, west from the crossing, would appear to have been built early.[213] the buttresses are of flat norman form. the north aisle doorway is pronounced to be norman in detail, but has been restored at a later date; the south aisle doorway retains its old norman arch and shafts in the interior, but has been altered externally. the nave piers were probably continued as far as the above doors about this time, with the triforium, but the upper part of the nave walls and the vaulting are later.[214] the transition style is prominently seen in the piers and arches of the crossing, and the windows in the choir nearest the main arches of the crossing, and the triforium openings into the transept, appear to have been altered and rebuilt at the time of this operation. the upper part of the north transept was probably raised and its windows inserted at this time; the raising of the south transept and the introduction of the rose windows is of somewhat later date.[215] this circular window is very similar to that in the east window of the choir. the chapels on the east side of the transept are of the advanced transition period, which, in orkney, was probably the middle of the thirteenth century.[216] the completion of the nave would be next undertaken.[217] the apse was taken down, and the choir, with its aisles, was extended by three bays eastwards,[218] the style having a resemblance to advanced first pointed work, with some peculiarities of detail, exhibiting probable french influence from upsala.[219] the triforium consists of plain, chamfered, semicircular arches and jambs in three orders; the clerestory has simple pointed windows, moulded on sconsion, but without cusps. a vaulting shaft is carried up between the piers.[220] the east end of the cathedral is of first pointed period, and the great east window fills the whole space available.[221] the three western doorways and the pointed doorway in the south transept are later than the choir;[222] they present the finest examples in great britain of the use of coloured stones in the construction.[223] the north doorway and the central doorway of the west front have the colours arranged in concentric rings in the arches, red and yellow alternating. in the south doorway the same colours radiate and alternate, and in the doorway of the south transept the red and yellow stones are arranged chequerwise.[224] they are among the most charming portions of the edifice, and are unique in scotland. the upper part of the gablet over the centre doorway is of the seventeenth century, and bears the shield of sir george hay of kinfauns, who rented the lands of the bishopric about the beginning of the seventeenth century, the crozier being added to the shield in connection with the lands of the see.[225] the tower has been considerably operated upon in modern times; the old wooden spire was destroyed by lightning in 1671. the parapet and pinnacles are modern, as also the pointed and slated roof--the lower part being of considerable age. the part within the roof of the church is apparently of transition date; the upper part, with the large pointed windows, is probably of fifteenth-century work.[226] there were originally beautiful specimens of wood-work; the canopy over the bishop's throne has disappeared.[227] the tower contains four bells, three of which were given by bishop maxwell (1526-1540). the cathedral does not appear to have suffered during the reformation period, but an attempt made by the earl of caithness to destroy it in 1606, during the rebellion of earl patrick stewart and his son, was prevented by the intervention of bishop law (sacred be his memory!). the bishop's palace was founded about the beginning of the thirteenth century. twenty bishops held the see in succession. the diocese contained the archdeaconries of orkney, with thirty-five parishes, and of tingwall (shetland) with thirteen. the church suffered from vandalism in 1701 and 1855, and the east end is used as the parish church. may the northern minster soon be restored and made worthy of its glorious past. lord tennyson's son's diary contains the following entry on the cathedral of st. magnus: "gladstone and my father admired the noble simplicity of the church, and its massive stone pillars, but we all shuddered at the liberal whitewash and the high pews."[228] a catalogue of the bishops of orkney, by professor munch of christiania, will be found in the _bannatyne miscellany_.[229] chapter iv scottish collegiate churches the creation of collegiate churches was a practical endeavour toward ecclesiastical reform in the fifteenth century, when the foundation of monastic establishments ceased. they had no parishes attached to them, and were regulated very much as the cathedrals. they arose with the purpose of counteracting the evils incidental to the monastic system, and were formed by grouping the clergy of neighbouring parishes into a college, or by consolidating independent chaplainries. they were called præposituræ, were presided over by a dean or provost, and the prebendaries were generally the clergy holding adjacent cures. in scotland, during more recent times, the term "collegiate" was applied to a church where two ministers (as at st. cuthbert's, edinburgh) served the cure as colleagues, but in the fifteenth century the term had a different and wider significance. collegiate churches were then an expression of the zeal and munificence that were displayed in the enlargement and decoration of buildings, when all classes vied with each other in the endowment of chaplainries for the maintenance of daily stated service, always including prayers and singing of masses for the souls of their founders, their relations, and benefactors. the collegiate churches were also an evidence from within the church itself of the need for reform in the great benedictine and augustinian abbeys that were then in the ascendant throughout the country. scotland possessed forty-one collegiate churches, but space will only permit us here to deal with nine of them: biggar, bothwell, st. nicholas (aberdeen), king's college (aberdeen), roslin, stirling (chapel royal), st. giles (edinburgh), st. mary's and st. salvator's (st. andrews). _biggar (lanarkshire)._--the collegiate parish church of st. mary was founded in 1545 by malcolm, third lord fleming, for a provost, eight prebendaries, four singing boys, and six bedesmen. it is interesting as being among the latest, if not indeed the last, of the scottish pre-reformation churches. it belongs to the late pointed period, is cruciform in plan, consists of chancel with apsidal east end, transept, and nave, with square tower and north-east belfry turret over the crossing. there are no aisles. formerly a chapter-house existed on the north side of the chancel, but it has been removed. the ancient roof was of oak, and the timbers in the chancel were gilt and emblazoned. _st. bride's collegiate church, bothwell_, was founded by archibald "the grim," earl of douglas, in 1398, for a provost and eight prebendaries. he endowed and added a choir to the existing parish church. the present church is a fine gothic building, erected in 1833, with a massive square tower to the height of 120 feet. east of this tower is the choir of the old collegiate church, of the middle pointed or decorated period; it is a simple oblong chamber with a sacristy on the north side. the church, externally divided by buttresses, has four bays with a series of pointed windows in the south wall, and three windows in the north wall. the arch of the entrance doorway in the south wall is elliptic in form. the roof of the church is covered with overlapping stone slabs, which rest on a pointed barrel vault--one of the earliest examples met with. in the sacristy there are a piscina and a locker, and in the south wall of the choir the remains of a triple beautifully carved sedilia and a piscina. the sacristy is roofed with overlapping stone flags supported on a vault. monuments to the two archibald douglases, earls of forfar, are in the church. in this church david, the hapless earl of rothesay, wedded marjory, the founder's daughter, in 1400, and one of its provosts was thomas barry, who celebrated the victory of otterburn in latin verse. it has been recently restored and made worthy of its great past. _new aberdeen._--the parish church of st. nicholas, said to be the largest mediæval parish church in scotland, was made collegiate about 1456 by bishop ingeram de lyndesay (1441-1459), and is said to have possessed, besides the vicar, "chaplains to the number of thirty."[230] its clergy were named the "college of the chaplains" of st. nicholas, and after, as before, the institution of this new order the church remained the parish church. only two portions of the ancient building now remain--the transepts and the crypt at the east end below the choir.[231] the present nave was rebuilt about 1750; the choir was taken down in 1835 and rebuilt in the most tasteless fashion; the walls of the crypt and transepts were all refaced except the north front of the transept, which was altered considerably in the seventeenth century; the central tower was burned in 1874, and the existing central spire was thereafter erected. a carillon of thirty-seven bells has been placed within it. after the reformation the rood-screen gave place to a wall, and st. nicholas was divided into two churches, the west consisting of the former nave, the east of the choir, and the romanesque transept between (known as drum's and collison's aisles) serving as vestibule. for the early architecture attention must be confined to the interior of the transept and crypt. the transepts are of the transitional style of the end of the twelfth century; the piers which carry the central tower are of the usual transitional type, having graceful capitals and square abaci supporting round arches; on each side of the north transept there are two original clerestory windows, and one of them has angle shafts, with carved caps and mouldings. the present large north window has remains of its original features, but its tracery is of late work. there is a transition attached shaft with carved cap and square abacus in the low pointed recess. there is only a shaft on one side of the recess, and the pointed arch of this recess, as well as the tomb alongside, below the large window, are of later work.[232] on the west side of the north wall there has been a round arched doorway, and traces of it are yet visible. the crypt is at the east end of the choir, but is on a lower level, and was approached by two stairs, one from the north and another from the south aisle of the choir. only their round arched openings remain as recesses in the walls of the crypt. the present stairs are modern. the crypt consists of one central and two side aisles, with an eastern apse; it is pronounced to be a very picturesque and interesting structure, and it fortunately escaped being rebuilt, like the rest of the church. it has a groined roof, and the three compartments in the length are separated by pointed arches that spring from moulded caps on octagonal responds. "the opening into the apse has a stunted round arch, and is a prominent example of the love of the scottish builders for this form of arch all through the gothic period."[233] each compartment of the apse has a central boss, and there is a considerable amount of carved woodwork in the crypt--some of the fifteenth or sixteenth century, and some later. the choir that was recently taken down superseded an older one, and it is probably to this former choir that references are contained in the _council register_ for about a century from 1442. _old aberdeen, king's college._--of bishop elphinstone of aberdeen (1488-1514) it is said: "with no private fortune, and without dilapidating his benefice, he provided for the buildings requisite for his university and collegiate church, and for the suitable maintenance of its forty-two members; and the cathedral choir, the king's college, and the old gray bridge spanning the valley of the dee are monuments to his memory that command the respect of those who have no sympathy with his breviary, rich in legends of scottish saints, and who would scarcely approve of his reformed gregorian chant."[234] the college was dedicated to the holy trinity and the virgin mary, and being placed under the immediate protection of the king, came to be known as king's college. king james iv. and bishop elphinstone endowed it with large revenues. it was a faithful copy of the university of paris. the collegiate church of st. mary, on the north side of the quadrangle, was consecrated by edward, bishop of orkney, and had eight priests or vicars choral belonging to it, and six singing boys.[235] it was begun in 1500 and finished in 1506, and it was said that all its stones and beams proclaim bishop elphinstone their founder, who also presented the chapter with many valuable vestments, vessels, etc. the chapel is a long, narrow building, with a three-sided apsidal east end. it is divided into six bays by projecting buttresses, and has a large window filled with mullions and tracery in each bay on the north side, except the second one from the west, which contains a doorway. similar large windows are continued in the apse, and there is also one in the east bay of the south side. over the west doorway there is a large west window of four lights, with solid built mullions and loop tracery enclosed within a round arch.[236] the tower at the south-west corner has massive corner buttresses. it is finished with one of the few crown steeples remaining in scotland, forming, "with that of st. giles, edinburgh, and the tolbooth, glasgow, the only three surviving of those which we could at one time boast. the general style of the structure is very similar to that of st. giles, but in this case there are only four arches thrown from the angles of the tower to the central lantern, while in the case of st. giles there are eight, which produce a fuller and richer effect.... the part blown down (by a violent storm in 1633) was probably only the lantern on the top of the four arches, the details of this part having a decidedly renaissance character, and being different from the other parts of the tower. doubtless the arches themselves would suffer in the crash, and would require repairing and rebuilding in part, which was evidently done, as the date 1634 is carved on the soffit of the crossing. this difference of detail is interesting as showing how persistently these old designers wrought in the style of their time. although it is evident that the present lantern is not quite the same as the original one, it must be admitted to be an extremely happy and picturesque composition."[237] the chapel suffered both externally and internally in the course of the centuries, but, thanks to the enlightened liberality of aberdeen citizens and alumni, it has been recently restored under the direction of dr. rowand anderson. in 1823 the choir end was fitted up for worship on the sundays, and the nave was occupied by the library, which was not removed and located in a building of its own until 1873. the choir screen was then shifted westward from its original position, where its west front formerly bisected the chapel. "in the ideas of bishop elphinstone," said the late principal sir william geddes, "and his age, the choir-screen was intended to partition off the sacred _clerus_ from the _non-clerus_ or laity, and, by the predominance of anthems and songs in the choir-service, to image forth the conception of the blest society in heaven, where there is only praise; but the 'collegium' which he constituted has, through historical causes, given way to the wider society of the 'congregation,' in which preaching is as prominent as praise, and hence came the removal of the choir-screen westward, so as to accommodate a larger audience than the collegium proper. this removal the restoration committee of 1891 acquiesced in and accepted, but the change is one for which they are not responsible."[238] it will be interesting to give here a brief resumé of what has been stated by the principal regarding shields and symbolism in the restored chapel. (1) as to the treatment of the floor: no shield has been admitted into the floor but such as represent persons in close relation to the king's college, of a date antecedent to the scottish reformation of 1560. when the series is completed, they will be found to represent:- _royal shields_ 1. james iv., the royal founder. motto, _leo magnanimus_. 2. margaret tudor, his queen. " _rosa sine spina_. 3. st. margaret, queen of malcolm " _crux columbis lex_. iii. (canmore). _episcopal_ 4. bishop elphinston. motto, _non confundar_. 5. " gavin dunbar. " _sub spe_. 6. " william stewart. " _virescit vulnere virtus_. 7. " john leslie. " _memento_. _literary_ 8. principal hector boece. motto, _silva frequens trabibus_. 9. dean robert maitland. " _consilio et animis._ _in ante-chapel_ 1. (north side) _domine, dilexi decorem domus tuae_ (lord, i have loved the beauty of thy house), psalm xxvi. 8. 2. (east side) _initium sapientiae timor domini_ (the fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom), motto of the university. 3. (south side) _te deum laudamus, te dominum confitemur_ (we praise thee, o lord, we acknowledge thee to be the lord). 4. (west side) _in te domine speravi: non confundar_ (in thee, o lord, have i trusted: let me never be confounded). the roof has a continuous system of decoration in colour and floral ornament, except in the four compartments at the extreme east end over the apse, where structural necessities imposed a variation. the central space of the roof is filled with scrolls containing the words, laus, potestas, honor, gloria, in ecclesiastical letter, varied by insertions of the monogram of the saviour, i.h.s., at intervals recurring. "below these, and towards the junction of the roof with walls, appears what may be called a flying scroll of inscriptions, being a series of latin texts and chants, chiefly from the vulgate, capable of being read continuously, round the roof, and interrupted only by the apse, which, as explained, has a separate treatment." "in the apse, which, like scottish apses of that period, is not semicircular, but has three facets, being semi-hexagonal, the frieze inscriptions are the university motto in its two clauses, with sursum corda in the centre. these occupy severally the three divisions into which the apse frieze falls, while in the compartments above are the symbolical figures in gold usually associated with the four evangelists, viz. the angel of s. matthew, the lion of s. mark, the ox of s. luke, and the eagle of s. john. the flying scroll attached to these figures is the text in revelation (iv. 8). the band at the springing of the arched roof is variegated by a series of shields or disks, in which the sacred monogram alternates with the emblems of the passion. the order in which the emblems have been placed is as follows: _west end_ south side ends. north side begins. 15. moon. 1. sun. 14. ladder. 2. bag of judas. 13. spear and sponge. 3. lantern. 12. dice. 4. cock. 11. seamless coat. 5. scourges. 10. hammer and pincers. 6. pillar and cords. 9. three nails. 7. crown of thorns. 8. cross, i.n.r.i. _east or apse end_ "the figures of the sun or moon, which are usually represented in the crucifixion scene, on either side of, and close to, the cross, have here by a certain liberty been made to commence and close the series." ... "fortunately the fretwork, when reversed, was found, though fragile, to be fairly sound; and, although not all entirely on a uniform pattern, a large section of it, when turned upward, presented the appearance of a series of pots of lilies, side by side, a discovery which largely reconciled one to the alteration, inasmuch as this emblem of the virgin is known to have been not only familiar to, but also a favourite with, the founder of the college. the king's college, besides, was originally the college of s. mary." _chancel and apse_ the professorial stalls have for the cresting the emblems of the seven virtues, viz. the four cardinal virtues of the philosophers, and the three celestial virtues, or graces of the theologians. the sequence is:- {1. justice, symbolised by the scales and balance. {2. courage " " thistle. {3. temperance " " bridle. {4. prudence " " compasses (mariner's and carpenter's). {5. faith " " pillar with wreath of victory. {6. hope " " anchor. {7. love " " flaming heart. they are repeated in such order on both sides, and the four cardinal virtues are towards the west or exterior; the three theological virtues toward the east or interior of the apse. on the stall forming the eighth on the south side, there is the monogram of the alpha and omega. on the panels of the stalls, "the leading idea sought to be maintained was the representation in sequence of the various emblems of christ and the christian life, as drawn from the cornu copiæ of nature, in the fruits and flowers of the vegetable world, that unfallen portion of creation which the divine teacher honoured by drawing from it, and from it alone, his similes and parables. they are severally as follows, commencing from the west:- 1. the lily.} 2. the palm.} 3. the rose.} 4. the trefoil. 5. the vine and grapes.} 6. the olive. } 7. the wheat-ears." } at the eighth panel on the south side, under the [greek: alpha] and [greek: omega] of the cresting, stands the pot of lilies as a symbol of the virgin. we have given an account of the late learned principal's paper as appropriate to this history. it shows how art can both express the spirit of the place and become a servant of religion. it illustrates professor flint's declaration:--"god as the perfectly good is not only absolute truth and absolute holiness, but also absolute beauty. he is the source, the author, the giver of all beautiful things and qualities. all the beauties of earth and sea and sky, of life and mind and spirit, are rays from his beauty. the powers by which they are perceived are conferred by him. the light in which they are seen is his light."[239] _roslin (mid-lothian)._--the church was founded in 1450 by sir william st. clair, baron of roslin and third earl of orkney. it was dedicated to st. matthew, and founded for a provost, six prebendaries, and two choristers. in the quaint language of father hay:- "his adge creeping on him, to the end that he might not seem altogither unthankfull to god for the benefices he receaved from him, it came in his mind to build a house for god's service, of most curious worke: the which that it might be done with greater glory and splendor, he caused artificers to be brought from other regions and forraigne kingdomes, and caused dayly to be abundance of all kinde of workmen present: as masons, carpenters, smiths, barrowmen, and quarriers, with others. the foundation of this rare worke he caused to be laid in the year of our lord 1446: and to the end the worke might be the more rare: first he caused the draughts to be drawn upon eastland boords, and made the carpenters to carve them according to the draughts thereon, and then gave them for patterns to the masons that they might thereby cut the like in stone." he was probably himself the source of the design, and his enlightened liberality attracted to the place the best workmen in scotland, as well as from parts of the continent. it has been said by the most recent authorities:- "the church, so far as erected, is in perfect preservation, and is a charming portion of an incomplete design. it is, in some respects, the most remarkable piece of architecture in scotland; and had the church been finished in the same spirit as that in which it has been so far carried out, it would have gone far to have realised a poet's dream in stone. when looked at from a strictly architectural point of view, the design may be considered faulty in many respects, much of the detail being extremely rude and debased, while as regards construction many of the principles wrought out during the development of gothic architecture are ignored. but notwithstanding these faults, the profusion of design so abundantly shown everywhere, and the exuberant fancy of the architect, strike the visitor who sees rosslyn for the first time with an astonishment which no familiarity ever effaces."[240] the original intention was to complete the building as a cross church, with choir, nave, and transepts, but the choir only has been completed. the transepts have been partly erected, the east wall being carried up to a considerable height, but the nave has not been erected. the church consists of a choir, with north and south aisles, connected by an aisle which runs across the east end, giving access to a series of four chapels beyond it to the east. beyond the east end of the church, and on a lower level, to suit the slope of the ground, a chapel has been erected that is reached from the south aisle by a stair. it is barrel-vaulted and is lighted by an eastern window. there are ambries in the walls and an eastern altar with a piscina. there are also a fireplace and a small closet on the north side. on the south a door leads to what has been an open court, where there are indications of other buildings having existed or being intended. in all probability there was a residence here, and the chapel may have served both as sacristy and private chapel. this chapel was probably built by the liberality of lady douglas, sir william st. clair's first wife. the church is profusely adorned with sculpture which generally represents scripture scenes, and one of the most curious examples in the remarkable decoration of the edifice is the ornamentation of the south pillar of the east aisle, known as the "prentice pillar"--named by slezer (1693) as the "prince's pillar" and by defoe (1723) the "princess's pillar." it consists of a series of wreaths twisted round the shaft, each wreath curving from base to capital round one quarter of the pillar. the ornamentation of the wreaths corresponds in character with the other carving of the church, and the grotesque animals on the base find a counterpart in those of the chapter-house pillar at glasgow cathedral. at the reformation the lands and revenue of the church were virtually taken away, and in 1572 they were relinquished by a formal deed of resignation. the chapel does not seem to have suffered much violence till 1688, when a mob did much mischief. it remained uncared for, and gradually became ruinous till the middle of the eighteenth century, when general st. clair glazed the windows, relaid the floor, renewed the roof, and built the wall round about. further repairs were executed by the first earl of rosslyn, and again by the third earl, who spent £3000 principally in renewing and retouching the carvings of the lady chapel--a work said to have been suggested by the queen, who visited the church in 1842. since 1862, services in connection with the scottish episcopal church have been held within it. at the west end a vestry and organ-chamber were erected a few years ago. _stirling (chapel royal, st. mary's, and st. michael's)._--on the north side of the castle square is the building erected by king james vi. as a chapel, and generally called now the armoury. there seems to have been a chapel in the castle founded by alexander i., and it was connected with the monastery at dunfermline. the original dedication is unknown, but in the fourteenth century there is mention of the chapel of st. michael, which may possibly date from the time when an irish ecclesiastic--st. malachi or michael--visited david i. at stirling castle, and healed his son, prince henry. the chapel was rebuilt in the early part of the fifteenth century, and in the time of james iii. became an important church. it was constituted both as a royal chapel and as a musical college, and endowed with the rich temporalities of coldingham abbey. this chapel was the scene of the penitence of james iv., who, after the victory at sauchie, "daily passed to the chapel royal, and heard matins and evening song: in the which every day the chaplains prayed for the king's grace, deploring and lamenting the death of his father: which moved the king, in stirling, to repentance, that he happened to be counselled to come against his father in battle, wherethrough he was wounded and slain. to that effect he was moved to pass to the dean of the said chapel royal, and to have his counsel how he might be satisfied, in his own conscience, of the art and part of the cruel deed which was done to his father. the dean, being a godly man, gave the king a good comfort: and seeing him in repentance, was very glad thereof." james iv. endowed the chapel with large revenues, and in 1501 erected it into a collegiate church for dean, subdean, chanter, sacristan, treasurer, chancellor, archpriests, sixteen chaplains, six singing boys and a choir master. it was the richest of the provostries, and held many churches. the deans of the chapel, who were first the provosts of kirkheugh at st. andrews, afterwards the bishops of galloway, and eventually the bishops of dunblane, possessed in their capacity as deans an episcopal jurisdiction. the chapel, erected by james iii., fell evidently into a ruinous condition, and in 1594 james vi. pulled the old structure down and erected on its site the present building. it was the scene of the baptism of prince henry. st. giles, edinburgh "in the centre of the old town of edinburgh," writes dr. cameron lees, "stands the great church of st. giles. from whatever point of view the city is looked at, the picturesque crown of the steeple is seen sharply outlined against the sky. soaring aloft unlike every other spire in its neighbourhood, it seems like the spirit of old scottish history, keeping watch over the city that has grown up through the long years beneath its shadow. edinburgh would not be edinburgh without it. the exterior of the church itself is plain and unadorned, and it is evident that unsympathetic hands have been laid upon it and modernised it; but when one enters the building, a vast and venerable interior is presented to him, and every stone seems to speak of the past. st. giles is a church whose history is closely interwoven with the history of scotland from the very earliest ages, and it has been the scene of many remarkable events which have left their impress upon our national character."[241] dr. david laing thinks that a parish church of small dimensions may have existed nearly coeval with the castle and town,[242] and the present st. giles occupies the site of the original parish church of edinburgh. symeon of durham, who flourished in the early part of the thirteenth century, includes edinburgh under the year 854 in reckoning the churches and towns belonging to the bishopric of lindisfarne or holy island, in the district of northumbria, a see which, previous to the scoto-saxon period, extended over the range of lothian and the more southern districts of north britain.[243] the name "edwinesburch" is taken as having a special reference to the castle and town.[244] when david i. founded the abbey in honour of the holy cross, the virgin mary, and all the saints, he conferred upon the canons (among other churches) the church of the castle, the church of st. cuthbert under the castle wall, and at the period there were lands lying to the south of edinburgh which bore the name of st. giles' grange--so called from being the grange of the vicar of st. giles' church. these lands were gifted by king david i. to the english abbey of holm cultram or harehope in cumberland, and probably the church went along with them; at all events, it continued to belong to some monastery. in 1393 it belonged to the crown, and king robert iii. granted it to the abbey of scone; to that house it belonged for some time, remaining still an humble vicarage.[245] it is the most reasonable conjecture that the parish church, dedicated in honour of st. ægidius or st. giles, and which has ever since retained the name of that patron saint, was erected during the reign of alexander i. (1107-1124), the founder also of the abbey of scone and other religious houses.[246] some fragments of this church remained till the end of last century, the richly ornamented norman porch, which had formed the entrance to the nave on the north side of the church, being removed about 1797.[247] dr. lees thinks that possibly some of the pillars of the choir, and also the door at the entry to the royal pew, belonged to the first church of st. giles.[248] the edifice appears to have been rebuilt about the time of david ii.[249] in the frequent wars with england, edinburgh suffered much, notably so in 1322 and 1335. this latter raid, having occurred in february, was afterwards known as the "burnt candlemas." a reconstruction of the church was probably required after these repeated conflagrations, and this appears to have been carried out during the fourteenth century. but shortly afterwards a devastation of the town and its buildings was occasioned by richard ii. in 1385, when, during his occupation of five days, he left the town and parish church in ashes. the citizens, with the help of the crown, made a great effort to repair the disaster to their church, and from this period the history of the present structure may be said to date. "it is said that during the restoration, which took place in 1870-80, traces of fire were observed on the pillars of the choir, and it is inferred that these pillars must have existed before the burning caused by richard ii. this view is confirmed by the fact that, after 1387, when, doubtless, the town authorities were doing all they could to complete the restoration of st. giles', they entered into a contract with certain masons to erect five chapels along the south side of the nave, having pillars and vaulted roofs, covered with dressed stone slabs. these chapels still exist, and the wall rib of the vaulting is yet visible on the south side of the arcade, next the south aisle; but the vault and stone roof have been removed, and a plaster ceiling of imitation vaulting substituted. the above contract indicates that the walls of the nave then existed. we must, therefore, assume that the church had been rebuilt previous to the destruction of 1385, and that the above contract was an addition to the building connected with its restoration two years after the fire. although, doubtless, much injured by the conflagration, the walls and pillars of the church seem to have escaped total destruction. the style of the architecture would lead to the same view; the octagonal pillars of the choir, with their moulded caps, being most probably of the fourteenth century."[250] the church, as restored and added to after 1387, is regarded as consisting of a choir of four bays, with side aisles; a nave of five bays, also with side aisles; a central crossing, north and south transepts, and the five chapels just added south of the nave.[251] an open porch, to the south of these chapels, was also erected along with them, with a finely groined vault in the roof, and over it a small chamber, lighted by a picturesque oriel window, supported on a corbel, carved with an angel displaying the city arms.[252] the whole of the main divisions of the structure were vaulted, and the massive octagonal piers of the crossing were probably raised about this period.[253] the vaulting of the crossing, with its central opening, was executed about 1400.[254] the ancient norman porch, forming the north entrance to the nave, was the only part of the twelfth century structure then preserved. the restoration seems to have continued from 1385 to 1416. shortly after the erection of the five south chapels, another chapel, called the albany aisle, was built on the north side of the nave to the west of the old doorway. it opens from the nave with two arches, resting on a central pillar, and the roof is covered with groined vaulting in two bays.[255] on the pillar are sculptured the arms of the duke of albany and also those of the earl of douglas. their names are often ominously found together in the history of the times, and both were accused of the murder of the duke of rothesay, heir to the throne. they were justly accused, and, although acquitted of the deed, the stain continues to rest on their memory. the chapels were either built to expiate their crime, or more probably to get a reputation for piety and obtain the favour of the church.[256] two other chapels were probably added to the north side of the nave about the same period; they were on the east side of the norman doorway, and between it and the transept. one of them has disappeared, and the eastern one was dedicated to st. eloi. the vaulting of the north aisle of the nave was necessarily rebuilt at the time when the north chapels were erected.[257] about fifty years later, great extensions and improvements were carried out under the auspices of queen mary of gueldres, by whom trinity college church was also founded in 1462. the town council and merchants of edinburgh also endowed it. the extensions of st. giles consisted of (1) the lengthening of the choir by one bay; (2) the heightening of the central aisle of the choir and vaulting it anew, together with the introduction of a new clerestory; and (3) the lengthening of the transepts.[258] the church is thus the work of many generations, and is the outcome of public and private contributions. that the choir was enlarged at this period is chiefly made evident by the heraldic devices and armorial bearings still existing. while the pillars nearest to the centre are plain octagons, with arches corresponding in simplicity, those at the east end have decorated capitals, supporting moulded arches. the king's pillar, as it is called, is the first from the window on the north side, and is near the spot where stood the high altar. on the foliated capital are four coats of arms, and the first has the lion within the double tressure, and the armorial bearings are usually supposed to be those of king james ii. (1436-1460); the second, impaled, of his queen, mary of gueldres (1449-1463); the third has also the lion within the double tressure and a label of three points, which is held to denote a prince or heir, if not a younger son. the fourth shield has three _fleurs-de-lys_ for france.[259] these shields clearly connect the pillar with mary of gueldres, and her husband, james ii., and their son, james iii., who was born in 1453. the work was probably executed between 1453 and 1463.[260] on the opposite pillar, on the south side of the high altar, are also four coats of arms, viz. those of the town of edinburgh and of the families of kennedy, otterburn, and preston. to commemorate other benefactors, on the demi-pillar, on the north side of the eastern window, we have the arms (three cranes _gorged_) of thomas cranstoun, chief magistrate of edinburgh in 1439 and 1454; on the south side, those of napier of merchiston, provost of edinburgh in 1457--a saltier engrailed, cantoned with four rosettes.[261] (2) the heightening of the choir and the introduction of a new clerestory were also carried out shortly after the middle of the fifteenth century, the height of the former choir being shown by the vault of the crossing, which it doubtless resembled, and which was not altered at that time. the outline of the old roof may also be observed against the east and west walls of the tower--the raglet and a stepped string-course above it being yet preserved, and being specially visible on the east side next the choir. the beauty of the vaulting of the central choir aisle is noticeable when contrasted with that of the side aisles.[262] the central crossing, with its vault, was left unaltered, and still remains in the same position, with its vaulting at the level it was raised to about 1400. it forms a break between the nave and the choir, in both of which the vault has been raised.[263] (3) the transepts were extended, their original length being marked by breaks in the roof, where the vaulting terminates. in a charter dated 11th january 1454-1455,[264] it is narrated that william preston of gourtoun, after much trouble and expense abroad, and aided by "a high and mighty prince, the king of france, and many other lords of france," had succeeded in obtaining an arm bone of the patron saint, which he generously bequeathed to the church. the town council were so gratified with the gift that they resolved to add an aisle to the choir in commemoration of the event, and to place therein a tablet of brass recording the bounty of the donor. this aisle was to be built within six or seven years "furth frae our lady isle, quhair the said william lyis." it thus appears that the south aisle of the nave was known as the lady chapel, and that sir william was buried there. the resolution was carried into effect, and a new aisle called the preston aisle was constructed, south of the lady chapel. the preston aisle was afterwards known as the assembly aisle. in carrying out the work the south wall opposite the three westmost bays of the choir was removed, and three arches carried on two piers substituted. these piers and arches correspond with the work of the same period at the east end of the choir. one of the caps contains a shield bearing the three unicorns' heads of the prestons. the structure extends into the choir the great width of the four aisles of the church previously formed in the nave, and adds greatly both to spaciousness and grandeur. the church was now complete in all its parts, as, internally, it still remains, with a few exceptions, to the present day.[265] several additional chapels were afterwards thrown out. in 1513 an aisle of two arches was formed by alexander lauder of blyth, provost of the city; in 1518 the altar of the holy blood was erected in this aisle, which lay on the south of the nave, and to the east of the south porch, immediately adjoining the south transept. it opened into the south chapels of the nave with two arches, and had two windows to the south. there was within it a handsome monument containing a recumbent statue, or forming, as some suppose, part of the altar canopy. the monument is still preserved, but one half of the chapel was obliterated in 1829. in 1466 the parish church of st. giles was erected by charter of james iii. into a collegiate establishment, but it is not called collegiate till 1475. the chapter consisted of a provost or dean, sixteen prebendaries, a master of the choir, four choristers, a sacristan, and a beadle with chaplains. the revenues of the altars and chaplainries in the church were appropriated for the support of the several officers in the new establishment. the king reserved the nomination of the dean or provost, who enjoyed the tithes and other revenues of st. giles' church, with the adjacent manse; the provost had the right of choosing a curate, who had a yearly allowance of 25 marks with a house adjoining.[266] in subsequent charters the church is called the college kirk of st. geill of edinburgh. about this period a few additions were made. a small chapel, called the chapman aisle, was thrown out from the preston aisle close to the south transept. it was dedicated to st. john the evangelist by walter chapman, called the scottish caxton, from his having introduced into scotland in 1507 the art of printing. the chapel was dedicated within a month of king james' death at flodden. the south transept seems to have been extended southward during the erection. the chapel to the east of the north transept contained several storeys and a staircase. it is said to have been erected after the reformation. used as the town clerk's office, and later as a vestry, it has been recently set apart to contain the monument of dr. william chambers, by whose liberality the cathedral has been recently restored. in 1829 the church was entirely renewed as regards the exterior, and two chapels to the south of those built in 1389 and the south porch were removed. the round arched doorway of the south porch was again erected between the north pillars of the crossing as the entrance to the central division of the church. it has now been transferred to the entrance doorway to the royal pew at the east end of the preston aisle.[267] the only portions of the exterior which escaped the unfortunate renewal of 1829 were the tower and steeple. fortunately the well-known crown of st. giles was not interfered with. it was probably erected about 1500.[268] "this crown," say the same authorities, "seems to have been a favourite feature with scottish architects. the crown of the tower of king's college, aberdeen, was built after 1505, and similar crowns formerly existed on the towers of linlithgow and haddington churches. the crown of st. nicholas' church, newcastle, which is probably the only other steeple of this kind in great britain, is also of a late date. there is a crown of the same description on the tower of the town hall at oudenarde, in belgium, which is also of late gothic work.... some of the above crown steeples have an arch thrown from each angle to a central pinnacle, an arrangement which renders them rather thin and empty looking; but that of st. giles' has, in addition to the arches from the angles, another arch cast from the centre of each side to the centre pinnacle. this produces an octagonal appearance, which, together with the numerous crocketed pinnacles with which the arches are ornamented, gives a richness and fulness of effect which is wanting in some of the other steeples of this description. the steeple of st. giles' was partly rebuilt in 1648."[269] in the tower was placed the great bell of st. giles, which must have been heard far and near on special occasions, as when, after the news of the disastrous field of flodden, the inhabitants were ordered at the tolling of the common bell to assemble in military array for the defence of the city. the bell was cast in flanders.[270] about 1500 several of the guilds had chapels assigned to them, and for these they contributed to the church funds. many famous scotsmen were buried within st. giles, and amongst them were the napiers of merchiston, although it is doubtful whether baron napier rests there or not.[271] the regent murray, assassinated at linlithgow in 1569, was buried in the south aisle; his monument was destroyed, but the brass plate, with the inscription written in his honour by george buchanan, was rescued, and is inserted in a new monument erected in the murray aisle. the scattered members of the body of the great montrose were collected and buried in the chapman aisle, in the south part of st. giles, in 1661, but all trace of his remains has now been lost, and no monument until recently indicated his grave. the last day on which mass was said in st. giles was probably the 31st of march 1560;[272] the disturbances connected with the reformation broke out in edinburgh at an early date, and st. giles' church was one of the first to suffer. all things have their end. churches and cities, which have diseases like to men, must have like death that we have. the images were stolen from the church; that of st. giles was carried off by the mob, drowned in the north loch, and then burned; his arm bone, so precious before, is supposed to have been thrown into the adjacent churchyard; the church was pillaged and the altars and images cast down; the valuables were taken by the authorities and sold, while the proceeds were spent in the repairs of the church. "irreverence," writes dr. lees, "had long been common. it was not to be expected that with the change of religion would come any additional reverence for the things and places which the old religion had proclaimed sacred. we read without much surprise, therefore, of weavers being allowed to set up their looms and exercise their craft 'in ane volt prepared for them in the rufe of sanct gellis kirk,' of the vestry of the church being turned into an office for the town clerk.... it is almost inconceivable that old associations should so thoroughly and quickly have died out."[273] the church suffered from the over-zeal of the early reformers and also from the effects of civil contention when sir william kirkaldy of grange and queen mary's adherents retained possession of the castle. kirkaldy took forcible possession of st. giles' church, and placed some of his men in the steeple to keep the citizens in awe. they made "holes in the vaute of the great kirk of edinburgh, which they made like a riddell, to shoot thorough at suche as they pleased within the kirk, or at such as would prease to breake down the pillars."[274] in 1560 st. giles' again became the parish church, with john knox for its minister. it was afterwards considered too large for protestant worship, and in knox's time the magistrates began to cut it up into sections and formed several churches. other alterations were made at different times, so that besides the high church in the choir and the tolbooth church in the nave there were under the same roof a grammar school, courts of justice, the town clerk's office, a weaver's workshop, and a place for the maiden, or instruments of public executions! in 1633, on the introduction of laud's form of worship, the church became the seat of a bishop, and the choir was used as a cathedral. between 1637 and 1661 it was again presbyterian; from 1661 to 1690 it was once more episcopalian; at the revolution the presbyterian worship was again restored, and the cathedral was divided with walls and filled with galleries. the tolbooth church occupied the south-west angle, and haddow's hole church the north-west angle. the old church comprised the south transept and portions adjoining; the preston aisle was used as a place of meeting for the general assembly and other purposes. the dark portions under the crossing and north transept were occupied as the police office. the alterations and rebuilding of 1829 left the cathedral still divided into three separate churches, and "the ancient architecture of the exterior of st. giles was entirely obliterated by the reconstruction."[275] as to this "restoration," dr. lees writes, "what ensued was deplorable, and can scarcely be conceived by those who have not themselves seen what was done."[276] on the other hand, advantage was obtained by the removal of the small houses and booths that had been built against the structure and between the buttresses. all must at least be grateful that the steeple "was left alone." the position of affairs remained thus until dr. william chambers, the lord provost of edinburgh, conceived the idea of removing the partitions and opening up the whole building. by his exertions, and largely by his own personal munificence, the restoration was effected between 1870 and 1883. "the cathedral," says dr. cameron lees, "restored from end to end, was opened with a public service on the 23rd may 1883. her majesty the queen was represented by a scottish nobleman (the earl of aberdeen), and representatives of all the chief corporations in scotland attended. the ceremonial was fitting the occasion, and three thousand persons filled the immense building. the whole scene recalled the brilliant pageants of an earlier day. but there was sadness in the hearts of all present, for three days previous to the ceremonial dr. william chambers had passed away. the words of the preacher[277] received, and still receive a response from many. 'so long as these stones remain one upon another, will men remember the deed which william chambers hath done, and tell of it to their children.' two days after the reopening of the church, the funeral service of the restorer was conducted within the building his patriotism had beautified and adorned, and amid a vast and solemn crowd his body was borne forth from the place he loved so well, and for which he had done so much, to his burial."[278] "what a strange story its old gray crown, as it towers high above the city, tells out day by day to all who have ears to hear. it is the story of scotland's poetry, romance, religion--the story of her progress through cloud and sunshine, the story of her advance from barbarism to the culture and civilisation of the present day."[279] _st. andrews--st. mary's, or kirkheugh._--a very old chapel, known as st. mary's on the rock, is said to have stood on the lady's craig, but no trace of it now remains. another chapel, also dedicated to st. mary, stood on the kirk heugh, and was known as the chapel of the king of scotland on the hill. all traces of it were for a long time lost, but in 1860 the foundations were discovered, and they show it to have been a cruciform structure. it is between the cathedral wall on the north-east and the sea. it had a provost and ten prebendaries.[280] _st. salvator's, st. andrews._--the college of st. salvator was founded and endowed by bishop kennedy in 1456 for a provost and prebendaries. this bishop was distinguished for his liberality to the church. the church of st. salvator is the only portion of the college buildings which still survives. it is now attached to the united colleges of st. leonard's and st. salvator, which form the existing university of st. andrews, and the other buildings of which are modern. the church bears the mark of the period when it was erected, the latter half of the fifteenth century.[281] it consists of a single oblong chamber, with a three-sided apse at the east end, a tower, with octagonal spire, at the south-west angle of the church. in the interior of the north wall, close to the apse, there is the splendid monument erected to bishop kennedy, the founder of the college. the south wall is divided by buttresses into seven bays. chapter v parish churches illustrating the architecture of the norman period _dalmeny church (linlithgowshire)._--"two nearly perfect churches of the romanesque age," says dr. joseph robertson, "survive at dalmeny and leuchars--the former apparently in the twelfth century a manor of the anglo-norman house of avenel, the latter a scottish fief of one of the magna charter barons, saier de quincy, earl of winchester. neither building need fear comparison with the common standard of english examples. both are late in style: leuchars is the richer, dalmeny the more entire of the two. both have semicircular apses--a feature found also in the parish churches of st. kentigern at borthwick, and st. andrew at gulane, and in the chapel bearing the name of st. margaret within the walls of edinburgh castle."[282] dalmeny church is the most complete of scottish norman churches, and consists of a chancel with eastern apse, and a nave separated from the chancel by an elaborate chancel arch. the arch has three orders, decorated with elaborate chevron ornaments, enclosed with a hood moulding carved with an enrichment somewhat resembling the dog-tooth. the soffit contains a similar faceted enrichment. the arch is carried on three attached shafts on each side, built in ashlar, and provided with subdivided cushion caps and plain bases. the chancel has one small window on the south side, and is vaulted with bold diagonal groin-ribs, enriched with chevron ornaments and springing from grotesque corbels. the apse is semicircular, and is entered from the chancel by an enriched arch with shafts and caps similar to those of the chancel arch. it is lighted by three plain window openings, the central one being enlarged. in the exterior a string-course runs round the building immediately below the windows, of which it forms the sills, and is enriched with a carved floral pattern. the chief feature is the main entrance door in a porch, projecting to the south, the archway of which is supported on two plain pillars with norman capitals. there are over this door the remains of a line, concentric with the arch, of sculptured figures and animals, very similar to those found on the ancient sculptured monuments of scotland. associated with the agnus dei, leo, sagittarius, serpents, birds, dragons, and human figures, we have one perhaps bearing a pastoral staff. from the rough nature of the masonry at the west end of the nave it is probable that a tower was intended to be built there.[283] on the north side projecting wings have been added to the church, but the south front and east end are almost untouched and show twelfth century work, uninjured save by weather and natural decay. the church is believed to have been dedicated to st. adamnan, and this is rendered very probable by the fact that the neighbouring church of cramond was dedicated to st. columba. _leuchars church, fifeshire._--we hear of a church here in 1187, and it was given to the canons of st. andrews (1171-1199). the church now consists of a choir with a circular apse; there are traces of an arch at the west end of the choir which opened into the nave, that has been rebuilt. in the seventeenth century a turret was built, which is incongruous and out of place; and to support the belfry a plain arch has been introduced in the interior amongst the norman work of the apse. the exterior of the semicircular apse shows an arcade of two storeys, "the shafts of the upper tier resting on the arches of the lower one, and all the shafts bearing cushion caps. those of the lower story are double shafts, and those of the upper story are double shafts, with a broad fillet between them. all the arches are enriched with chevron and billet mouldings, and the upper tier has an extra order of elaborate billet-work. the string-course between the two arcades is carved with zigzags. the cornice is supported on a series of boldly-carved grotesque heads, all varying in design.... the design of the exterior of the choir is similar to that of the apse, there being two arcades, one above the other, surmounted by a cornice, with corbels carved as grotesque heads. the lower arcade, however, has interlacing arches, which indicate a late period of the style. the two arcades are separated by a string-course, enriched with scroll floral ornament. in the interior ... the chancel arch (which has elaborate carving) is carried on a central attached shaft and two plain nook shafts, built in courses, with simple cushion caps and plain bases. the chancel is vaulted with heavy moulded groins, springing from the cushion caps of short single shafts resting on grotesque heads. a small window is introduced in each of the divisions formed by the shafts, and each window has a pair of nook shafts in the interior and enriched arch above. the lower part of the apse is plain, and is separated from the upper part by a string-course, enriched with faceted ornaments."[284] parish churches illustrating middle pointed or decorated period _st. michael's parish church, linlithgow_, was the scene of the apparition that is said to have warned king james iv. against the battle of flodden, and is one of the largest parish churches in scotland. a church dedicated to st. michael existed here as early as the time of david i. a new church is said to have been erected in 1242, and probably some parts of this are incorporated in the present edifice. in 1384 robert ii. contributed to the erection or repair of the church tower, and in 1424 the church was injured and considerably destroyed by the fire that reduced the town to ashes. the reconstruction of the edifice probably progressed, under the jameses, simultaneously with that of the palace adjoining. st. michael's consists of a choir, including two aisles and a three-sided apse at the east end; a nave, including two aisles; two chapels inserted, north and south, in the place usually occupied by the transept; a square tower at the west end, and a south porch giving access to the nave. the nave is the oldest part of the building, and appears to have been erected before the middle of the fifteenth century. the choir is of somewhat later date.[285] a broad stone bench or seat is carried round the nave, and the bases of the triple wall shafts of the vaulting rest upon it. those of the choir, different in design, rest on the floor. in the nave there are triforium openings in each bay, and clerestory windows above them. the windows throughout the church are of large size, and filled with varied geometric tracery. the windows of the apse are large, and the tracery of two of the windows is perpendicular in character. the transepts (or north and south chapels) and the south porch have crow-stepped gables both on their outer walls and also over the inner or aisle wall which separates them from the church. each of these contains an apartment over the vault, that over the south porch being probably a place for preserving documents. the buttresses of the nave have a simpler character than those of the apse and north transept. the canopies of the niches are ornamented somewhat similarly to those of rosslyn. the buttress of the south-west angle of the nave, crowned with the sculptured figure of st. michael, is a striking feature on approaching the church. the western tower was originally terminated with a crown of open stone-work, similar to that of st. giles, edinburgh. about 1821 it was found to be in a dangerous condition, and had to be taken down. the tower is of late design and contains a doorway, continental in style, which may possibly be the work of thomas french, the king's master-mason, and above which there is a large perpendicular window. the upper part of the tower would contrast well with the crown on the top. the tower opens into the nave with a wide and lofty arch, carried up to the clerestory level, and the groined vault with large window below produces a good effect. in each side wall of the tower is a richly canopied recess, intended for monuments or sculpture. a portion of what seems to have been a carved altar-piece is preserved in the church and represents scenes in our lord's passion.[286] the steeple contains three bells with inscriptions. the south transept contained an altar dedicated to st. katherine, and was the place where james iv. is reported to have seen the apparition that warned him against the fatal expedition to england--an incident chronicled by pitscottie, and forming the basis of sir david lyndsay's tale in _marmion_. the church contained twenty-four altarages, which were removed in 1559 by the lords of the congregation in their march from perth to edinburgh; and probably still further damage was done by cromwell's dragoons, who used it as a stable. the church belonged to st. andrew's priory, and was long served by perpetual vicars. it has been recently restored, and made worthy of its great past. the west doorway is pronounced to be a pleasing specimen of the half continental manner in which that feature was usually treated in scotland.[287] _haddington parish church (east lothian)_ is one of the ecclesiastical structures belonging to the ancient royal burgh of haddington. besides it there were the monasteries of the franciscans and dominicans, the cistercian nunnery, and the chapels of st. martin, st. ann, st. katherine, st. john, and st. ninian. of these establishments the only two that now survive are st. martin's (a very ancient chapel) and the parish church, which deserves the name now applied to it (although originally it seems to have been given to the vanished church of the franciscan monastery) on account both of its beauty and the distance at which its lights were visible--lucerna laudoniæ, or lamp of lothian. the ancient church of haddington was founded by david i., dedicated to the virgin, and by him granted in 1134 to the priory of st. andrew. the present structure is of later date, and from the style of the architecture, was probably rebuilt in the first half of the fifteenth century.[288] the church is cruciform, having choir and nave, both with side aisles, and north and south transepts without aisles. over the crossing is the central tower. the choir and transepts are ruinous, and the restored nave is used as the parish church. the tower was originally crowned with a canopy or spire of open work similar to that of st. giles, edinburgh, and king's college, aberdeen; and large picturesque gargoyles still break the line of the cornice on the top. although the edifice has been so sadly damaged, it does not appear to have suffered at the reformation. the town was under siege in 1548, when it was held by the english after the battle of pinkie, and was attacked and taken by the scots and their french allies. it is not unlikely that the church suffered at that time. parish churches of third or late pointed period _parish church of st. john the baptist, perth._--the ancient city of perth possessed many endowed religious establishments, but the only one that survives is the church of st. john the baptist, from which the city derived its title of "st. john's town." this church, divided by walls so as to form three separate places of worship, is still the parish church of the town. the first church of perth was probably connected with the neighbouring pictish monastery at abernethy, and was erected by the monks there during the celtic period. the register of dunfermline contains the earliest historical mention of the church under the years 1124-1127, when it was granted by david i., with its property and tithes, to that abbey. the church was consecrated by david de bernham, bishop of st. andrews, in 1242, and it is stated that the heart of alexander iii. was buried in the church of st. john.[289] the abbots of dunfermline allowed the building to become ruinous, and tried to place upon the citizens of perth the burden of upholding the fabric. the interest of the citizens seems to have been diverted from the church, and directed, probably at the beginning of the thirteenth century, to the building of the dominican monastery, and about the middle of the century to the erection of the carmelite or whitefriars' monastery. it is probable that in connection with repairs necessary for the church, king robert the bruce in 1328 granted that stones might be taken from quarries belonging to the abbey of scone, "for the edification of the church of perth." of the twelfth century church of st. john nothing now remains to indicate its architecture, although it may have been both magnificent and extensive. after the death of robert the bruce in 1329 the restoration begun by him probably ceased, and during the unrest of the fourteenth century the church probably suffered further damage. in 1335 king edward iii. was in perth, and slew his brother, john of eltham, earl of cornwall, before the high altar of the church of st. john for his excesses and ravages in the western districts of scotland. in 1393-1394, after a parliament at scone, walter trail, bishop of st. andrews, conducted divine service in st. john's church. from 1401 till 1553-1556 there is a continuous record of the foundation of altars in the church, and of endowment of already existing ones. the chapel in which st. james' altar was situated stood on the south side of the church, and the foundation charter of the altar of st. john the evangelist, founded in 1448 by sir john de bute, states that the altar was situated "in the new choir of the parish church." the church consists of a choir and nave, with north and south aisles, and north and south transepts without aisles. the nave and choir are of almost equal length; there was a chapel on the west side of the north transept that no longer exists, but the wide arch of the opening into it is partly visible in the transept. it was two storeys in height. it is pronounced[290] as evident from the style of the architecture that the choir and crossing beneath the central tower belong to the period about 1448. the transepts may be later, and both are of the same period. the two eastern bays of the main arcade of the choir are more elaborately moulded than the others, and round the eastmost pillar on the south side there is cut an inscription containing the names of john fullar and his wife.[291] it has been remarked that the tithes and fees received by the magistrates probably did not suffice for the work laid on them by the monks of dunfermline, and that john fullar and his wife volunteered to pay for a part, certainly for the pillar on which their names are inscribed. in the second bay of the choir from the east on the north side there is a round arched doorway, now built up, and it led to the sacristy, afterwards used as a session-house; it was taken down about 1800, and the meetings were held in a building on the south side of the nave near the west end, which has also been removed. the present north and south doorways in the choir are modern, although the south one is in the position of the old doorway. the choir has no triforium, but good plain masonry instead, undivided by wall shafts; the clerestory windows are small and round arched, are divided into two lights by a central mullion, and have plain tracery in the arch-head. the nave is divided, like the choir, into five bays, and has no triforium nor clerestory; there is a deep blank wall above the arcade arches. "this wall is of rough masonry compared to that in the choir, and the whole of this part of the church is of a much coarser and ruder description, betokening a later age. the capitals of the piers are of the very rudest kind, and are a perfect contrast to the delicate work of the choir. in the meagre description of st. john's to be found in the books on perth, this rudeness is pointed to as a sign of great antiquity, but the reverse is unquestionably the case. this nave is undoubtedly 'the new kirk of perth' referred to in the chronicle, in which 'ane synodall assemblie' was held in april 1606."[292] early in the nineteenth century it was contemplated to raise the nave wall and erect a clerestory; two of the windows adjoining the tower on the north side were actually built, and still remain with massive buttresses, surmounted by high finials; the work was never finished, and could not be carried farther west, as there is no proper support for such a massive building. tradition says that at one time the church extended farther west, and it seems not improbable that a western tower in the centre of the front may have been contemplated, and even begun. "this tower, like those at stirling, linlithgow, and dundee, may have been intended to open towards the church with a wide arch, of which the jambs still remain; but this idea having been abandoned, and any part of the tower which then had been built having been taken down, the present makeshift gable was put up instead to fill up the gap, which, in these circumstances, would be left for the supposed opening into the church."[293] on the north side of the nave there is a large porch called halkerston's tower. it was a two-storied building, the upper storey being of great height and vaulted as well as the lower one. the erection of the west end of the church is referable to about 1489,[294] when payments were made "to the kirk werk of pertht." the central tower was erected after the adjoining part of the nave, and has one window in each face. the parapet and corbelling were renewed about forty years ago.[295] the exterior of the church has been altered at various times, and an open parapet carried along the top of the choir wall over the clerestory windows as well as along the aisle walls and up the sloping gables of the east end. dormer windows to light the galleries break in on this aisle-wall parapet, as well as on the roof of the nave. it was in the church of st. john, perth, that john knox denounced the mass in 1559, and the multitude afterwards demolished the ornaments, images, and altarpieces as well as the monasteries and religious houses in perth--an example quickly followed by others throughout the country. in scott's novel, _the fair maid of perth_, the church is the scene of the trial by bier-right to discover the slayer of proudfute. the east church (or choir) has been recently restored, and many look forward to the day when, the present partition walls being removed, st. john's church will once more reveal the full splendour of its striking and grand interior. perth awaits a generous restorer, and st. john's affords a grand opportunity for patriotism and beneficence. dundee church tower about 1198 the church of dundee was bestowed on lindores abbey, and the church then existing is stated to have been erected by david, earl of huntingdon, as a thank-offering for his escape from a storm at sea. about 1442 an agreement was formed between the abbot of lindores and the provost and burgesses of dundee, by which the latter undertook the construction and maintenance of the choir of dundee church. the only part of the ancient church which now remains is the western tower, and it was erected about 1450.[296] three parish churches in connection with the tower were developed from the original chapel--st. mary's or the east church, st. paul's or the south church, st. clement's or the west church. the church was damaged by the english before the union, and st. clement's had to be rebuilt in 1789. the three churches were almost totally destroyed by fire in 1841, and the choir and transepts were thereafter rebuilt. the church tower survived, and has resisted for over four centuries storm and tempest, fire and siege. its massive strength and height are features that strike the eye from far. it is square, and 165 feet high. the western entrance consists of two round arched doorways, comprised within a larger circular or elliptical arch, which is again enclosed by a square moulding. the arch mouldings are enriched with foliage, while the jambs and central pillar are moulded with alternate rounds and hollows. in the spandril over the centre shaft there is a circular panel with a virgin and child; below are the arms of the diocese of brechin on a shield. above the doorway is a lofty traceried window, and above this window the tower is vaulted. the height from the floor to the groined ceiling is about 47 feet. at each of the four corners there is a large circular shaft, and each shaft is fitted into its position in a manner different from the others. the sedilia or stone seats still remain entire, and extend along the north, south, and west walls. the tower is divided into two principal stages by an enriched parapet and outside passage. the parapet is pierced with quatrefoils and ornamented with crocketed pinnacles. the roof is of the saddle-back kind, with gables towards the east and west. it was evidently meant to have an open crown termination, and the preparations exist for the springing of the angle arches.[297] the tower was restored by the eminent sir gilbert scott in 1871-1873. _stirling parish church._--two churches in stirling are spoken of in the reign of david i. one of them was the chapel royal, which was dedicated by alexander i.; and the "vicar" of the "kirk of stirling" is mentioned in 1315 and in the time of david ii. there are also notices of it in the reigns of robert ii. and robert iii., when it is designated as the church of the holy cross of stirling. of this earlier church, which was burnt, nothing now remains. the present edifice consists of two divisions, the nave and the choir, which were built at two different periods. the nave, which is the oldest part, is referred to in the chamberlain's accounts from july 1413 to june 1414, and the date of the choir is known to be between 1507 and 1520. the church contains a central nave with north and south aisles (the aisles being vaulted in stone), an eastern apse, and a western tower. the nave has five bays, the choir three bays, and they are separated by a wide bay which may be termed the crossing. the crossing now serves as an entrance hall to the two churches, into which the building is now divided. walls are built across each side of the crossing, so as to enclose the choir as one church and the nave as the other. the west tower, which is vaulted, opens into the nave through a lofty pointed arch, springing from moulded responds. the original entrance to the church was through the western tower, but the western doorway was destroyed in 1818, and part of a window now occupies its place. the tower is pronounced to be one of the best specimens of the scottish architecture of the sixteenth century, as applied to ecclesiastical structures,[298] and the situation of the church on the castle hill gives it an imposing and picturesque effect. the piers of the nave (with the exception of two) are round and massive cylinders, and the east and west responds are semi-cylinders. the general appearance of these pillars has been taken to illustrate what is so often found in scotland (both in ecclesiastic and domestic work) during the fifteenth century and onwards--viz. a tendency to imitate norman and early pointed details. "this tendency is also seen in the nave piers of dunkeld cathedral, in the piers and arches of the naves of aberdour church and dysart church, in the imitation of first pointed work in the late cloisters of melrose, and many other examples which might be cited. but the later counterfeit is never perfect, there being always some touch of contemporary design which reveals the imitation.[299]" over the crossing was an upper room, known as the king's room, from which the service could be seen, but it was destroyed about the middle of this century. at the north-west corner of the church was a chapel (now removed) with a wide opening into the church. it was called queen margaret's, and is supposed to have been built by james iv. in honour of his queen. another chapel was dedicated to st. andrew at the north-east end of the nave, and is still entire. it was erected by duncan forrester of garden, knight, who was a liberal benefactor of the church. the church is associated with many historical events. it was here that the regent arran publicly renounced protestantism in 1543, and here in the following year also the convention met that appointed mary of guise regent. the church, although "purged" in 1559, was not injured, and was used in 1567 for the coronation of james vi., then but thirteen months old. when general monk in 1651 was besieging the castle, the church tower was one of the points of vantage seized by his soldiers, and the little bullet pits all over it indicate how hot must have been the fire directed against them. it was held by the highlanders in 1746, and its bells pealed in honour of the victory at falkirk. john knox has preached within its venerable walls. it was divided into two buildings in 1656, and comprises still the east and west parish churches, the east being renovated in 1869. since then a large number of stained-glass windows have been introduced. _church of st. leonard's college, st. andrews._--the hospitium or guest hall of st. leonard's was founded by prior john white in the middle of the thirteenth century for the reception of pilgrims and visitors to st. andrews. some remains of the guest hall have been excavated, from which it seems to have been a hall with central nave and two side aisles. the building was afterwards used as a nunnery, and in 1512 was appropriated as a college. it was then founded by prior john hepburn in conjunction with archbishop alexander stewart. as a college, it was under the superintendence of the prior and chapter, and was for the education of twenty-four poor students. it became famous, however, and was attended by sons of noblemen. george buchanan was at one time principal, and the college helped to spread a knowledge of sacred music throughout the country. a long range of buildings on the south side of the church was used as the students' residence. the church was long used for public worship, but after the college of st. leonard's was united to that of st. salvator in 1747, st. leonard's was abandoned in 1759. within recent times several alterations have been made on it, the steeple being taken down and the west end "set back" to give more room for access to a private house. the chapel is an oblong, and is without division between nave and chancel. the church appears to have been extended 24 feet at the east end, when it was converted into a college.[300] the design of windows and buttresses (perpendicular) is pronounced to accord well with the date of erection in the sixteenth century, and is similar to that of english colleges. on the north side is a room with a round barrel vault, probably the sacristy.[301] there is a piscina in the east window sill. _church of the holy trinity, st. andrews._--this church, usually named the town church, is of ancient foundation, but was almost entirely rebuilt at the end of the eighteenth century. an early church is said to have been built here in 1112 by bishop turgot, and subsequently dedicated by bishop de bernham to the holy trinity. it had in its palmy days thirty altarages, each with a separate priest and fifteen choristers, and it was from the pulpit here that john knox preached his famous sermon on the purifying of the temple. the church demolished at the close of last century is believed to have been erected in 1412.[302] the north-west tower is the only part of the old structure which survives.[303] "like the north-west tower at cupar, it rises from the north and west walls of the north aisle, without buttresses to mark its outline or break the upright form of the walls. the square outline, however, is partly relieved by a square projection at north-west angle, which contains the staircase. the east and south walls are carried by arches, which formerly allowed the lower story of the tower to be included within the church, and the round pier at the south-east angle is made of extra thickness, so as to bear the weight of the tower."[304] the parapet is plain and rests on simple corbels. above it rises a short and stunted octagonal spire with lucarnes, like most of the late scottish examples. there is over the staircase a small turret with pointed roof. it is carried up within the parapet, and groups picturesquely with the main spire. the tower resembles the one at wester crail, and both are of fifteenth century date. it is of this tower or steeple[305] that we hear in john knox's _history of the reformation in scotland_. when a captive on a french galley lying between dundee and st. andrews the second time that the ship returned to scotland (probably june 1548), "the said johne (knox), being so extreamlye seak that few hoped his lyeff, the said maister james (balfour) willed him to look to the land, and asked if he knew it? who answered, "yes, i know it weall: for i see the stepill of that place whare god first in publict opened my mouth to his glorie, and i am fullie persuaded, how weak that ever i now appear, that i shall nott departe this lyif till that my toung shall glorifie his godlie name in the same place."[306] his hope, as we have just seen, was not disappointed." chapter vi scottish monasticism the old celtic monastic system, with iona as its centre, was superseded by the monastic system of the roman church in the eleventh century, and the old culdee monks were either driven from their ancient settlements or compelled to become augustinian canons or benedictine monks. the life of queen margaret marks the period of transition in scotland from the old system to that of the church of rome both in building and in every other department, and what queen margaret began, her sons, edgar, alexander and david completed. st. margaret had a monk of durham for her chaplain; lanfranc, archbishop of canterbury, was her chosen counsellor. she introduced benedictines from canterbury into her foundation at dunfermline. edgar and alexander took for their adviser st. anselm--lanfranc's successor, preferred english priests, and peopled the monasteries with english monks. david was even more earnest in the pursuit of this policy, and the kings who followed him found little to "anglicise." saxon refugees were followed into scotland by norman knights; these were received by david and presented with lands, and the extent of their possessions is apparent in the names of the proprietors settled in every part of the country. the policy is apparent: their settlement helped to keep the country in order, and defend it from the attacks of the unsubdued tribes in the north and west. it also helped to facilitate the spread of the roman catholic system throughout the country. "the new colonists," says dr. cosmo innes, "were of the 'upper classes' of anglican families long settled in northumbria, and normans of the highest blood and name. they were men of the sword, above all service and mechanical employment. they were fit for the society of court, and many became the chosen companions of our princes. the old native people gave way before them, or took service under the strong-handed strangers, who held lands by the written gift of the sovereign."[307] ... "the new settlers were of the progressive party, friends of civilisation and the church. they had found churches on their manors, or if not already there, had founded them. to each of these manorial churches the lord of the manor now made a grant of the tithes of his estate; his right to do so does not seem to have been questioned, and forthwith the manor--tithed to its church--became what we now call a parish."[308] examples of these parish churches have already been considered, and the two-fold movement of a cathedral system with parochial benefices was continued for a time. it was the most effective way of superseding the old celtic church, and the policy was throughout inspired by the aim of substituting the parochial system with a diocesan episcopacy for the old tribal churches with monastic jurisdiction and functional episcopacy. but this was accompanied by a third movement, which to a very great extent paralysed it, and became a source of weakness to religion. the parochial system was shipwrecked when scarcely formed by the introduction of monasticism, which was then in the ascendant throughout europe. "the new monks," says dr. cosmo innes, "of the reformed rule of st. benedict or canons of st. augustine, pushing aside the poor lapsarian culdees, won the veneration of the people by their zealous teaching and asceticism.... the church, too, with all its dues and pertinents, was bestowed on the monastery and its patron saint for ever, reserving only a pittance for a poor priest to serve the cure, or sometimes allowing the monks to serve it by one of their own brethren. william the lion gave thirty-three parishes to the new monastery of arbroath, dedicated to the latest and most fashionable high church saint, thomas à becket."[309] the church thus became territorial instead of tribal; episcopal instead of abbatial, and the new abbeys began to acquire large territory in the country. by the end of the thirteenth century the old line of celtic kings closed in alexander, and the movement was complete; the church had ceased to be celtic in usage and character, and had become roman. this stream of tendency came from the south, and cathedrals with abbeys were constituted after english models. "of the scottish sees, all," says dr. joseph robertson, "save three or four, were founded or restored by st. david, and their cathedral constitutions were formally copied from english models. thus the chapter of glasgow took that of salisbury for its guide. dunkeld copied from the same type, venerable in its associations with the name of st. osmund, whose "use of sarum" obtained generally throughout scotland. elgin or moray sent to lincoln for its pattern, and transmitted it, with certain modifications, to aberdeen and to caithness. so it was also with the monasteries. canterbury was the mother of dunfermline; durham, of coldingham; st. oswald's at nosthill, near pontefract, was the parent of scone, and through that house, of st. andrews and holyrood. melrose and dundrennan were daughters of rievaux, in the north riding. dryburgh was the offspring of alnwick; paisley, of wenlock."[310] roman monasticism thus became an important factor in scottish life, and it is true to say that for a very considerable period the history both of piety and civilisation in scotland was the history of its monasticism. it was a stage in the national development, a movement in religious progress, and it was only abolished when the salt had lost its savour, when monasticism had ceased to be spiritual and had become worldly and corrupt. the system had served its day in helping to educate the nation, and when its purpose was achieved it passed away. mediæval architecture was, too, the outcome of the leisure in the cloister, and the men who designed and built those venerable temples must have been men to whom their work was their religion, and who regarded it as the way of honouring god. one cannot look at their architecture without realising how true are ruskin's definitions of art:--"art has for its business to praise god."[311] "great art is the expression of a god-made great man."[312] "art is the expression of delight in god's work."[313] "all great art is praise." "art is the exponent of ethical life."[314] one cannot look at their ruins and not recall that by their destruction a beauty has passed away from the earth; one cannot read of the rude forces that destroyed them, and not see that the judgment on things is always on character, and that the last testing principle is, "see--not what manner of stones, _but what manner of men_." while we deplore the forces that destroyed, we have also to deplore the indefensible lives of the monks which at their last stage stirred such forces to their depths. there were four principal rules, under which might be classed all the religious orders. (1) _that of st. basil_, which prevailed by degrees over all the others in the east, and which is retained by all the oriental monks; (2) _that of st. augustine_, which was adopted by the regular canons, the order of premontré, the order of the preaching brothers or dominicans, and several military orders. (3) _that of st. benedict_, which, adopted successively by all the monks of the west, still remained the common rule of the monastic order, properly so called, up to the thirteenth century; the orders of the camaldules of vallombrosa, of the carthusians, and of citeaux recognised this rule as the basis of their special constitutions, although the name of monk of st. benedict or benedictine monk may still be specially assigned to others. (4) _the rule of st. francis_ signalised the advent of the mendicant orders in the thirteenth century. it is to be noted that the denomination of monks is not generally attributed to the religious who follow the rule of st. augustine, nor to the mendicant orders.[315] the canonical hours at which the monastic bell regularly summoned the monks were seven in number:--(1) prime, about 6 a.m.; (2) tierce, about 9 a.m.; (3) sext, about noon; (4) nones, from 2 to 3 p.m.; (5) vespers, about 4 p.m. or later; (6) compline, 7 p.m.; (7) matins and lauds, about midnight. scottish monasticism exhibited the expansion of the two main streams--the augustinian and the benedictine, and each subsequent order is to be regarded as an endeavour towards reform. space will only permit us to deal with the augustinian establishments at st. andrews, holyrood, and jedburgh; with the premonstratensian abbey of dryburgh; with the benedictine abbey of dunfermline; with the cluniacensian abbey of paisley; with the tyronensian abbeys of kelso and arbroath; with the cistercian abbey of melrose. the premonstratensian order was a reform on the augustinian, and the cluniacensian, tyronensian, and cistercian orders, reforms on the benedictine order. a study of their history and architecture in representative forms will introduce us to the piety and beauty of former days, as well as to an order of things very different from our own.[316] _st. andrew's priory._--the priory or augustinian monastery was situated to the south of the cathedral (_q.v._), and was founded by bishop robert in 1144. the structure has now almost disappeared. it comprised about twenty acres, and was enclosed about 1516 by prior john hepburn with a magnificent wall, which, starting at the north-east corner of the cathedral, passed round by the harbour and along behind the houses, till it joined the walls of st. leonard's college on the south-west. this, about a mile in extent, is all that now remains, but it is thought at one time to have passed back from the college to the cathedral. the wall has thirteen turrets, and each has a canopied niche for an image. the portion towards the shore has a parapet on each side, as if designed for a walk. there were three gateways, the chief of which, on the s.w., is known as the pends, and of which considerable ruins still remain. another gateway is near the harbour, and the third was on the s. side. martine in his _reliquiæ divi andreæ_ mentions that in his time fourteen buildings were discernible besides the cathedral and st. rule's chapel. among these were the prior's house or the old inn to the s.e. of the cathedral, of which only a few vaults now remain; the cloisters, w. of this house, and now the garden of a private house, in the quadrangle of which the senzie fair used to be held, beginning in the second week of easter, and continuing for fifteen days; the senzie house, or house of the sub-prior, subsequently used as an inn, but now pulled down and the site occupied by a private house. the refectory was on the s. side of the cloister, and has now disappeared, as well as the dormitory between the prior's house and the cloister, and from which edward i. carried off all the lead to supply his battering machines at the siege of stirling. the guests' hall was within the precincts of st. leonard's college, s.w. of pend's lane; the teinds' barn, abbey mill, and granary were all to the s.w. the new inn, the latest of all the buildings, was erected for the reception of magdalene, the first wife of james v. the young queen, of delicate constitution, was advised by her physicians to reside here; she did not live to occupy the house, as she died on 7th july 1537, six weeks after her arrival in scotland. it was for a short time the residence of mary of guise when she first arrived in scotland, and after the priory was annexed to the archbishopric in 1635 the building became the residence of the later archbishops. several of its canons had sympathies with the scottish reformation. the prior of st. andrews had superiority over the priories of pittenweem, lochleven, monymusk, and the isle of may, and was also a lord of regality. in parliament he took precedence of all priors, and he, his sub-prior, and canons formed the cathedral chapter. the priory possessed in all thirty-two churches or their great tithes. from 1144 to 1535 there were twenty-five priors; from 1535 to 1586 the lands were in the possession of the earl of murray and robert stewart, as lay commendators; from 1586 to 1606 they were held by the crown; from 1606 to 1635 by the duke of lennox; from 1635 to 1639 by the archbishop of st. andrews; from 1639 to 1661 by the university; from 1661 to 1688 by the archbishop again; from 1688 by the crown. the part within the abbey wall was sold by the commissioners of woods and forests to the united colleges.[317] _holyrood abbey (midlothian)._--the abbey of holyrood was founded by king david i. in 1128 for the canons regular of the order of st. augustine, and was dedicated in honour of the holy cross or rood brought to scotland by his mother, queen margaret. this cross, called the black rood of scotland, fell into the hands of the english at the battle of neville's cross in 1346. the abbey was several times burned by the english, and the nave on the last of these occasions, 1547, was repaired with the ruins of the choir and transepts. this was used as the parish church till 1672, when it was converted into the chapel royal. in 1687 it was set apart by king james vii. for the service of the roman catholic church, but was plundered and again burned at the revolution in the following year. it remained neglected until 1758, when it was repaired and roofed; the new roof, proving too heavy for the walls, fell with a crash in 1768, destroying all the new work. it suffered neglect again till 1816, when it was repaired, and in 1857 it was still further improved. the abbey early became the occasional abode of the kings of scotland, and james ii. was born, crowned, married, and buried in it. the foundations of a palace apart from the abbey were laid in the time of james iv., edinburgh having then become the acknowledged capital of the country. holyrood palace was henceforth the chief seat of the scottish sovereigns. in it the nuptials of james iv. were celebrated; here also mary queen of scots took up her abode in 1561 on her return from france, and here james vi. dwelt much before his accession to the throne of england in 1603. the abbey church was beautiful in its architecture and of great size. it consisted of nave, choir, transepts with aisles, and probably lady chapel to the east, two western towers, and a tower over the crossing; but of all that splendid structure there now only remain the ruins of the nave and one western tower. the surviving nave is in a ruinous state and consists of eight bays, the main piers of which are complete on the south side, but only represented by two fragments on the north side.[318] the vaulting of the south aisle still survives, but that of the north aisle is gone. the north wall of the aisle still stands, and the east and west ends of the nave are restored. the n.w. tower is still preserved, but the companion tower at the s.w. angle was demolished when the palace was rebuilt in the seventeenth century. some remains of the cloister are still observable on the s. side of the nave. the chief part of the architecture is pronounced to be first pointed, but the doorway at the s.e. angle, which led from the cloister into the nave is pronounced to be of genuine though late norman architecture. there was a nook shaft on either side, the divided cushion caps of which survive. the arch is round and contains two orders, both ornamented with zigzags. these orders are enclosed with a label, containing a double row of square facets and sinkings. some alterations have taken place adjoining the doorway, and two of the windows, that over the doorway and that to the west of it, are circular-headed and have a norman character in their nook shafts and cushion caps. these windows were probably constructed in imitation of norman windows which existed there originally. it is not improbable that the choir was built before the nave, and was of norman work, and this supposition is regarded as accounting for the norman work found at the first bay of the nave, and which may have been erected in connection with the choir and crossing. the oldest part of the nave after the s.e. doorway is the wall of the north aisle. the windows above the arcade are single lancets, one in each bay. the south wall of the south aisle is similarly designed, but the details are different and of a rather later character. the lower story contains a wall arcade having single pointed arches, with first pointed mouldings. the windows over the arcade correspond generally to those in the north wall, and are all pointed except the two east bays already mentioned. the lower part of the exterior of the south wall, running westward from the norman doorway, is arcaded with a series of large pointed arches, each enclosing five smaller pointed arches, and with a plain wall space between the large and small arches. the above large arches were the wall arches for a groined roof over the cloister walk, but whether that vault was ever built it is now regarded as impossible to say. the vaulting of both aisles has apparently been similar, but the south aisle alone retains it, which is of a simple character, consisting of transverse and diagonal ribs. the main arcade of the nave has consisted of eight bays; the triforium is divided into two arches in each bay by a single central shaft, springing from a corbel over the apex of each arch of the main arcade, and running up to the string-course beneath the clerestory. this would suggest the view that the vaulting was sex-partite. each arch of the triforium is acutely pointed, and contains two smaller pointed arches within it, each of which has an inner trefoiled arch. the tympanum of the large arch is pierced with a quatrefoil or trefoil. to counteract the weakening tendency of the triforium passage, saving arches, as may be seen from the south, have been introduced to carry the chief pressure across from main pier to main pier. a similar strengthening arch exists in the outer wall of the triforium gallery at amiens. the west end is pronounced to have contained the finest work of the building, and the west door with the two towers must have presented a lovely and imposing front. the s.w. tower was removed to make way for the palace being erected, and even the w. doorway is encroached on by the palace wall. a portion of the s.w. tower is still visible in the interior, and contains a doorway. the upper part of the w. end was reconstructed by charles i. in 1633, and contains two nondescript windows of seventeenth century gothic with an inscription between them. the tympanum of the doorway has also been altered at this time, and an oaken lintel introduced containing a shield with the initials of charles i. the western doorway has been a beautiful specimen of first pointed work, and the w. side of the n.w. tower is ornamented with two tiers of arcades. "the lower arcade contains five pointed arches, with a trefoiled arch within each. these rest on triple shafts, with carved caps and rounded abaci. over each shaft and between the arches there is a circle containing a boldly carved norman head. the feature is unique and its effect is fine. the upper arcade consists of three larger arches, each containing two smaller arches, and all resting on shafts with carved and rounded caps. the shields in the larger arches are pierced with bold quatrefoils. two circles occur in the spandrils over the arches, but they do not now contain heads."[319] the same design is continued round the s. side of the tower, and along the w. wall of the nave as far as the main doorway, but the n. and e. sides of the tower are plain. above the two arcades the tower contains a large two-light window on the n.e. and w. sides. each window is divided into two openings by a single central shaft, having a carved cap and broad square abacus, on which rest the two plain pointed arches of the inner openings. the shield above is pierced with a bold quatre-foil. the two western piers of the crossing are still standing, and within the arch there has been erected in modern times a large traceried window. the spaces below the window and across the side aisles have been built up with fragments of the demolished structure, and a window is thus formed at the east end of each aisle. the church has evidently undergone a thorough repair during the fifteenth century, probably during the period when crawford was abbot (1460-1483). "the work executed at this time consisted of the addition of seven buttresses on the north side and several buttresses on the south side of the aisles. those on the north side are large, and may either enclose the old buttresses or have been substituted for them. they have a set-off near the centre, above which each contains an elaborately ornamented and canopied niche. beneath and above the niche there are carved panels, which have contained angels and shields, with coats of arms. the arms of abbot crawford are said to have been carved on the panels, but they are now too much decayed to be distinguishable. above the upper panels the buttresses are continued with several set-offs, and finished with a small square pinnacle. the pinnacles have been crocheted and terminated with a carved finial, but they are now greatly wasted away. there were, doubtless, flying arches from the above buttresses to the clerestory, but they must have fallen with the roof. a somewhat elaborate north doorway has been introduced, in a style similar to that of the buttresses, in the second bay from the west tower. the arch is semicircular, and has an ogee canopy. there are small niches above the arch on each side which contained statues, now demolished. this doorway was probably constructed by abbot crawford at the same date as the buttresses."[320] "a series of buttresses was also erected about the same time on the south side of the fabric. it is believed, however, that these buttresses are partly old or are on old foundations. in order not to interfere with the cloister walk, which ran along next the south wall, and where it would have been inconvenient to have any projections, the buttresses were carried in the form of flying arches over the top of the cloister roof. at the clerestory level flying arches, similar to those on the north side, rested against the upper portions of buttresses and pinnacles introduced between the windows. on the outside of the cloister walk the flying arch abutted upon oblong masses of masonry, which probably at one time were finished with pinnacles, but these no longer exist."[321] robert bellenden, the twenty-fifth abbot of holyrood, and successor to abbot crawford,[322] presented the abbey with bells, a great brass font, and a chalice of gold. he was also beneficent to the poor, and completed the restoration of the fabric by covering the roof with lead. this happened about 1528, and in 1539 the office of commendator was given to robert, natural son of james v., while still an infant. the brass font was carried off by sir richard lee, an officer in hertford's army, in 1544, and was removed to st. alban's abbey. it was afterwards sold for old metal. the brass lectern of the abbey was also taken by sir richard lee, and presented to the parish church of st. stephen's at st. alban's, where it still is. it is in the form of an eagle with outstretched wing, and contains a shield with a lion rampant and a crozier, with the inscription, "georgius crichton, episcopus dunkeldensis."[323] before becoming bishop, crichton was abbot of holyrood, 1515-22. _jedburgh abbey (roxburghshire)._--in 1118 david i., while prince of cumbria, founded a priory on the banks of the jed, and placed it in possession of canons regular from the abbey of st. quentin at beauvais in france. in 1147 the priory was raised to the dignity of an abbey and dedicated to the virgin mary, while the smaller buildings of the priory served as a nucleus for the larger buildings of the abbey. its abbots were sometimes men of distinction, and in 1285, when john morel was abbot, alexander iii. was married in the abbey with much ceremony to iolanda, daughter of the count de dreux. in the wars between england and scotland (1297-1300) the abbey suffered so severely that the monks were unable to inhabit it, and were billeted on other religious houses. jedburgh had to bear the brunt of many english onslaughts, and in 1410, 1416, 1464 it was damaged by repeated attacks of the english. in 1523 both town and abbey fell before the forces of the earl of surrey. the abbey was stripped of everything valuable and set on fire. in 1544-1545 the process of destruction was twice repeated under sir ralph eure and the earl of hertford respectively. in 1559 the abbey was suppressed, and its resources went to the crown. for some years it was left a roofless ruin, and a building designed for the parish church was afterwards erected within the nave, roofed over at the level of the triforium, and used as a place of worship till 1875, when a new church built in excambion by the earl of lothian was opened for worship, and the abbey ruin can now be viewed "clear of that incubus upon its lovely proportions." like most ancient buildings that have been added to from time to time, the abbey shows different styles of architecture, and the choir, which is early norman, is undoubtedly the oldest part. the church consists of a choir with side aisles extending eastward for two bays, beyond which was an aisleless presbytery, the east end of which is demolished; a nave of nine bays, which had vaulted side aisles; a central crossing with square tower above; a north transept well preserved, and a south transept, of which the south end is destroyed.[324] it has been suggested that the choir may have terminated with an eastern apse, but of this there is no proof. what survives consists of two bays next the crossing, the lower portions of which are in the norman style. a unique arrangement is visible here, as far as scotland is concerned, and resembles a somewhat similar design at gloucester cathedral and romsey church, hampshire. the main piers have the peculiarity of being carried up as massive cylindrical columns to the arch over the triforium. the lower story has the round arch and vaulting ribs supported on corbels, projected from the round face of the piers. the triforium arch is round and moulded, and has a well-wrought chevron ornament. "it rests on large caps of the divided cushion pattern. the main arch is formed into two openings by a central round shaft and two half round responds, with massive cushion caps carrying plain arches."[325] the clerestory is of transition work, having one lofty stilted and pointed arch, and two smaller pointed arches in each bay. when the transitional clerestory was erected, the eastern part of the choir is thought to have been built, and the remains of two lofty pointed windows are preserved to the east of the cylindrical piers. the same norman style of architecture as in the choir is continued in the south and north transepts, and appears to have originally also extended into the nave. "this is apparent from the mode in which the string-course over the triforium runs along on the north side from the choir to the nave, where it is broken off. that the norman nave has probably extended westwards from the crossing is further evidenced by the existence of the west end wall, with its great doorway and windows, and the south doorway to the cloister, which portions are all of characteristic norman design." the norman work must have preceded the transition work in choir and nave by a considerable portion of time. there is no gradual development visible. the nave (129 feet in length and 27-1/2 feet in breadth) "is divided into nine bays, each of which comprises a main arch resting on clustered piers, a triforium with one round arch containing two pointed arches, and a clerestory forming a continuous arcade, with four pointed arches in each bay. the main clustered piers contain four principal shafts at the angles, and four intermediate shafts between them. the former are brought to a point on the face, the latter are flatter. the caps are simple and of an ordinary transitional form, each with a square abacus. the bases are also simple, and stand on a massive square plinth, a feature not uncommon in norman work. the arches of the main arcade are somewhat acutely pointed, and the mouldings are bold, and resemble first pointed work." the clerestory shafts are of trefoil section; the arches are all pointed, and contain first pointed mouldings. the west end of the nave and doorway are norman in character, and sir gilbert scott declared the great western doorway and south doorway to be "perfect gems of refined norman of the highest class and most artistic finish." the doorpiece is surrounded by three gablets, the central one still retaining a trefoiled arch. the west wall has flat buttresses of norman character, and "the upper portion of the wall has a central round-headed window, flanked on each side by three small pointed arch heads, the caps carrying which rested on long single free shafts, now gone. the central window has deep mouldings, but no enrichments. the west front has been finished with an octagonal turret on each side, as at kelso abbey, and the gable contains a central circular window, which has been filled with tracery at a late date. the west end walls of the aisles have each contained a circular-headed window of norman design, with a chevron ornament in the arch and a nook shaft at each side." "the lower part of the walls of the choir and the western wall and doorway and south doorway being all of norman work, it seems probable that the whole building was set out and partially executed in norman times, and that the work was either stopped for a considerable period and then resumed, or that the structure, after being completed, was destroyed, and had to be restored in the late transition style. the transition work is well advanced in style, and may be regarded as being of the date of the end of the twelfth century or beginning of the thirteenth century." "the norman north transept is fairly well preserved, but both the north and south transepts have undergone great repairs about the end of the fifteenth century. the crossing appears to have been so greatly damaged by the assaults of the fifteenth century that it was found necessary to rebuild it. the restoration is distinctly visible in the south-east pier of the crossing, the style of which is quite different from that of the norman work adjoining in the choir and south transept, and the junction of the new work with the old is very apparent. this pier has clearly been rebuilt. it is plain next the crossing, but next the aisle it consists of a series of shafts with a moulded cap of late date. the upper mouldings of the cap form a continuous straight line, while the bells of the caps are broken round the shafts--a style of cap common in scotland at the end of the fifteenth century." "this pier and the south aisle of the choir beside it appear to have been restored by abbot john hall (appointed 1478), whose name occurs on the pier and on one of the bosses. the south-west pier of the crossing has also been rebuilt. this work was carried out by abbot thomas cranston (appointed 1482). on a shield on this pier are carved the arms and initials of abbot cranston--three cranes and two pastoral staves--saltierwise. the same abbot's initials are placed on the north side of the west arch of the crossing, where the chamfer begins, and on the lower part of the north-west pier. the south-west pier, the north-west pier, and the arch between them would thus appear to have been rebuilt by abbot cranston. the base inserted by him is different from the old norman base. "about half-way up the south-east pier, rebuilt by abbot hall, the springer of an arch may be seen projecting to the west. abbot hall had evidently intended to throw an arch across the transept at this point, but abbot cranston changed his plan and the arch was not carried out. the mouldings of the portions executed by the two abbots differ in their respective parts of the structure. "to the north of the original norman north transept an addition to the transept has been erected. it is cut off from the old transept by a wall, and thus forms a separate chapel, measuring 27 feet in length by 22 feet in width internally. this chapel is vaulted with the pointed barrel vault usual in scotland in the fifteenth century, and, consequently, the side windows are low, their pointed arch being kept below the springing of the vault. the window in the north end wall, however, is of large dimensions. the windows are all filled with good fifteenth century tracery, similar to that in the restored south aisle of the choir. this part of the edifice is now used as a mortuary chapel for the family of the marquess of lothian. the tower over the crossing is 33 feet square and 86 feet in height. it contains three pointed and cusped lancets on each side, and is without buttresses. it appears to have been erected about 1500. at the top, near the north-west corner, are engraved the arms and initials of abbot robert blackadder, who was afterwards promoted to the offices of bishop and archbishop of glasgow. he was appointed to that see in 1484, and died 1508. his arms are a chevron between three roses." the abbey thus completed was not permitted to remain unmolested. described by sir ralph eure as "the strength of teviotdale," and by hertford as "a house of some strength which might be made a good fortress," it was, as already mentioned, the frequent object of attacks by the english. it was pillaged and burnt in 1544 and 1545, and never recovered from the damage done. in 1559 the monastery was suppressed. in 1587 the bailery of the abbey was continued or restored by a grant of king james vi. to sir andrew ker, and in 1622 the entire property of the lands and baronies which had belonged to the canons of jedburgh was erected into a temporal lordship, and granted to him with the title of lord jedburgh. sir alexander kerr of fernieherst was ancestor to the marquess of lothian.[326] _dryburgh abbey (berwickshire)._--the name dryburgh has been derived by some from the celtic darach-bruach, "bank of the grove of oaks," and vestiges of pagan worship have been found in the bass hill, a neighbouring eminence. st. modan, a champion of the roman party, is said to have come hither from ireland in the eighth century, and a monastery on very scanty evidence has been attributed to him. st. mary's abbey was founded by hugh de morville, lord of lauderdale and constable of scotland, in 1150. according to the chronicle of melrose, beatrix de beauchamp, wife of de morville, obtained a charter of confirmation for the new foundation from david i.; the cemetery was said to have been consecrated on st. martin's day 1150, "that no demons might haunt it"; the community, however, did not come into residence till 13th december 1152. the monks were premonstratenses or white friars; called by the latter name because their garb was a coarse black cassock, covered by a white woollen cape, "in imitation of the angels in heaven, who are clothed with white garments." the monks introduced were from alnwick. "a large part of the domestic buildings seems to have been erected within fifty or sixty years of the date of the foundation, as they are built in the transition style of the beginning of the thirteenth century. the church appears to have been in progress during the thirteenth century, as in 1242 the bishop of st. andrews, owing to the debts incurred in building the monastery and other expenses, gave the canons permission to enjoy the revenues of the churches under their patronage, one of their number performing the office of vicar in each parish. the canons took the oath of fidelity to edward i. in 1296, upon which their property was restored to them. their possessions were widely spread, and extended into several counties, as appears from letters addressed by edward regarding them to the sheriffs in the counties of fife, berwick, roxburgh, and edinburgh."[327] tradition states that the english under edward ii., in their retreat in 1322, provoked by the imprudent triumph of the monks in ringing the church bells at their departure, returned and burned the abbey in revenge. dr. hill burton remarks that bower cannot be quite correct in saying that dryburgh was entirely reduced to powder, since part of the building yet remaining is of older date than the invasion. king robert the bruce contributed to its repair, but it has been doubted whether it ever was fully restored to its former magnificence. certain disorders among the monks in the latter part of the fourteenth century brought the censure of pope gregory xi. upon its inmates. being within twenty miles of the border, the abbey was frequently exposed to hostile english attacks, and we hear of its burning by richard ii. in 1385, by sir robert bowes and sir bryan latoun in 1544, and again by the earl of hertford in 1545--james stewart, the abbot commendator, having with others crossed the tweed into northumberland and burned the village of horncliffe. it was annexed to the crown in 1587, and the lands were erected into a temporal barony, with the title of lord cardross, in favour of the earl of mar, from whom they have passed by purchase through the hands of several proprietors. chaucer was held to have visited the abbey, but the claim has been demolished by dr. hill burton in billings' _antiquities_. among the distinguished men, however, connected with the abbey was ralph strode, "the philosophicall strode," to whom and the "moral gower" chaucer inscribed his troilus and cresseide. he was a friend both of chaucer and john wiclif.[328] andrew forman was superior of dryburgh, and was much occupied with affairs of church and state under james iv. and james v. he was appointed in 1501 to the bishopric of moray, holding at the same time the priories of coldingham and pittenweem, with the commendatorship of dryburgh. he became afterwards archbishop of brouges, and finally archbishop of st. andrews. he is said to have written (1) _contra lutherum_, (2) _de stoica philosophia_, (3) _collectanea decretalium_.[329] the monastery had the usual buildings around the cloister; the church was on the north side, and stood about ten steps above the level of the cloister garth. the sacristy, chapter-house, fratery, and other apartments stretch from the transept southwards along the east side; above these, on the upper floor, were the dormitories, entering by an open staircase from the south transept. along the south side of the cloisters lay the refectory, which, on account of the slope of the ground, was raised on a basement floor of vaulted cellars. on the west side of the cloister garth are now only a few vaulted cellars. a small stream runs along the s.w. side of the monastic buildings, and beyond the stream are the remains of what seems to have been a detached chapel. the oldest portions of the structure are those forming the eastern range; they are of transitional date or about the beginning of the thirteenth century.[330] the sacristy has a stone bench round the walls and three steps in the floor. it has a door from the transept and an outer semicircular-headed doorway of transition character from the cloister. access is also obtained by a small door in the north side to a wheel-stair leading to the upper floors, and visible as a projecting turret at the s.e. angle of the transept. the east window of the sacristy is pronounced remarkable, having two round-headed windows surmounted by a visica-formed aperture. it has a piscina in the south wall near the east end. the apartment next the sacristy may originally have been a parlour, but is now appropriated as a mausoleum. there is an ambry in the south wall near the east end, and the doorway is semicircular and of norman character. the floor of the chapter-house is several feet below the level of the cloister walk; the ordinary central doorway and side windows opening from the cloister are placed in their usual position on the level of the cloister walk. the side openings were unglazed, and were used for seeing and hearing what was proceeding in the chapter-house below. the doorway is large and deeply recessed; the outer arches of the windows on each side of the doorway are plain semicircles, filled in with two pointed lights having a central shaft. the chapter-house retains its round barrel vault, and has three pointed windows in the east end and two similar ones in the side walls, where the chapter-house projects beyond the general line of the buildings. in the interior a round arched arcade runs along the east side, supported on single shafts, and there are traces of a similar arcade running round the side walls. there is an entrance doorway in the south wall; the east gable wall over the chapter-house still exists, possessing flat buttresses of a norman type at the angles and between the windows, but the pointed arches indicate transition work. there is a lovely fragment of carved work still preserved in the chapter-house, representing the pascal lamb slain and surrounded by a wreath of foliage, above which are the letters i.h.s. the vine leaves flowing from the lamb may symbolise the branches springing from the true vine. south of the chapter-house was probably the fratery or monks' day room. it has been vaulted at a late period--probably third pointed. there is a fire-place in the centre of the west wall, and an outer doorway at the south end of the same wall. the apartment was lighted by three plain round arched windows in the east wall, one of which has had tracery inserted in after times. at the n.w. angle, opening from the level of the cloister, is a round-headed doorway, and traces of a staircase which served as the day access to the dormitory. south of the fratery is the slype or passage, with arched openings to the east and west. it has also a doorway to the fratery, and another to the apartment on the south side, the latter of which now only exists in part, the south end of the range having been destroyed. the range of these buildings still retains its eastern wall to the full height of two stories--the upper story being doubtless the dormitory. on the south side of the cloister, where the refectory once stood, there are now only the ruins of the vaulted basement on which it stood. at the east end of this range there is a doorway from the cloister giving access to a staircase which led down to the lower level of the fratery, and the remainder of the south side was probably all occupied by the refectory. the west wall is almost all that survives; it is now ivy-clad, and contains a picturesque circular window, with radiating tracery. adjoining this wall in the s.w. angle of the cloister there is an arched recess, apparently intended for a tomb and monument, but now empty. over the doorway in this angle is a large shield, containing the arms of john stewart, who was commendator in 1555. on the shield are the initials j.s., with the crozier in the centre. he was brother to the earl of lennox, and uncle to lord darnley, who married queen mary. the arms are those of the stewarts of lennox. the cloister occupies a space of 93 feet by 91 feet, and was surrounded by a vaulted walk which has entirely disappeared. it is evident that the cloister walk was at least partly vaulted, from the small remains of the springing of the vaults which are visible in the eastern wall on each side of the doorway to the chapter-house. the south wall of the nave of the church extends along the north side of the cloister, and at the n.e. angle is the doorway which led from the cloister into the nave--a handsome specimen of the transition style. the nave of the church is entered through this handsome doorway by ten steps up from the cloister, and presents a scene of terrible destruction. the west end wall partly remains, "and shows by the responds attached to it the form of the nave piers, with their caps and bases. the position of the piers along the nave is now roughly indicated by a collection of fragments arranged as nearly as possible in the original position and form. the mouldings indicate a late date, and were, doubtless, restorations; but the responds, which were not so liable to destruction, are of first pointed date. the responds which form part of the west wall show that there was a central nave 28 feet wide and side aisles, each about 13 feet 6 inches wide, making a total width of 55 feet. there have been side chapels in the nave, apparently divided by walls, some portions of which remain, with ambries in the chapels. the western doorway has a round arched head, but its details show that it is of late design. this part of the edifice has apparently been restored in the fifteenth century, after the destruction of the abbey by richard ii. in the end of the fourteenth century."[331] the transept has a slight projection to the north and south; this part of the building and all to the east of it are evidently of thirteenth century work, but only a few detached portions remain. the south transept gable has a large window filled with simple pointed tracery, rising in steps above the roof of the dormitory. the arch through which the stair to the dormitory passed is visible in this wall. to the east of the transept is a choir of two bays, with aisles, and beyond which is an aisleless presbytery. the portions left are pronounced to be of a very beautiful design, both internally and externally. the exterior is simple but elegant, and of first pointed work; the interior shows evidence of more advanced design. the clerestory is of beautiful design; "each bay contains an arcade of three arches, the central one, which is opposite the window, being larger than the side arches. the arches are supported on detached piers, behind which runs a gallery. these piers each consist of two shafts, with central fillet. they have first pointed round caps, over which a round block receives the arch mouldings as they descend. a small portion of the north end of the transept adjoins the above, which shows that the structure has been carried up in two stories of richly moulded windows, all in the same style as the adjoining portions of the choir. the remaining portion of the aisle is vaulted with moulded ribs springing from responds and corbels corresponding in style with the choir."[332] here rests the dust of sir walter scott and his kinsfolk, and of it alexander smith wrote that "when the swollen tweed raves as it sweeps, red and broad, round the ruins of dryburgh, you think of him who rests there--the magician asleep in the lap of legends old, the sorcerer buried in the heart of the land he has made enchanted." _dunfermline abbey (fife)._--dunfermline was from a very early period the residence of the kings of scotland and here malcolm canmore had his tower; here he entertained the royal fugitives from england, and married the princess margaret in 1068. the glen of pittencrieff contains the remains of the tower of malcolm canmore, and of a subsequent royal palace, and they were in 1871 pronounced by the house of lords to be crown property. malcolm's tower is believed to have been built between 1057 and 1070, and the royal palace may have been founded as early as 1100, although more likely it was not built till after the departure of edward i. of england, in february 1304. the kings of scotland, from robert bruce onward, appear to have frequently resided in the palace. according to turgot, queen margaret, after her marriage, founded a church "in that place where her nuptials were celebrated," and it was dedicated to the holy trinity in 1074. it became the place of royal sepulture, and queen margaret was buried within it. there are frequent references from this time onwards of grants to the church of the holy trinity, and to interments of royal personages therein. "the original church of canmore," says professor innes, "perhaps not of stone, must have been replaced by a new edifice when it was dedicated in the reign of david i.,"[333] and messrs. macgibbon and ross add "as no notice has been preserved of the erection of any new church till the building of the choir in the first quarter of the thirteenth century, it has been supposed that the nave of the existing structure (which is in the norman style) may have been the church founded and erected by queen margaret. but the style of the building forbids this supposition. none of the english cathedrals were founded till the end of the eleventh century, and few were carried out till the expiry of the first quarter of the twelfth century. scotland would certainly not be in advance of england in its style of architecture, and we know that little, if any, norman work was executed in this country till the days of david i.... the style of the structure is early norman, and would naturally follow the erection of durham cathedral, which took place about twenty-five years earlier."[334] the same authorities think that the original church of malcolm stood where the new choir was afterwards erected, and that david i. added the norman nave to it. "the nature of the site seems to favour this view, as the ground to the west slopes rapidly away, and scarcely allows room for the west end of the nave; while the conventual buildings, for want of suitable space, have had to be carried with an archway over a public street."[335] alexander i. seems to have contemplated its erection into an abbey, and in the year of his succession david i. remodelled it as a benedictine abbey, and placed in it an abbot and twelve brethren brought from canterbury. by the close of the thirteenth century it had become one of the most magnificent institutions in scotland. david i., after introducing the benedictine order, probably added the norman nave to the then existing church erected by his royal parents, and it was evidently resolved at no distant time from this to rebuild the early church and form a new choir and transept worthy of the new settlement. this was done, and between 1216 and 1226 the choir, aisles, transept, and presbytery were erected, and abbot patrick, formerly dean and prior of canterbury, presided at dunfermline during the whole of the above time. appeals were made to the popes honorius iii. and gregory ix. on account of the expenses incurred by church erection and the increase of the number of canons from thirty to fifty. in the dispute of 1249 regarding the consecration of the new choir, pope honorious iv. decided that a new consecration was not necessary, as the consecrated walls of the oldest part (the nave) continued in use. in that year queen margaret was canonised, and in 1250 her body was transferred from the old church to the new lady chapel in presence of all the chief men of the kingdom. "the translation of the saintly foundress," says professor innes, "was probably arranged to give solemnity to the opening of the new church."[336] this is known in history as the "translation of s. margaret," and the "grate companie" of king, nobles, bishops, abbots, and dignitaries in procession kept time "to the sound of the organ and the melodious notes of the choir singing in parts." soon after this, describing what it had become towards the close of the thirteenth century, matthew of westminster wrote: "its boundaries were so ample, containing within its precincts three carrucates of land, and having so many princely buildings, that three potent sovereigns, with their retinues, might have been accommodated with lodgings here at the same time without incommoding one another." in 1244 it had become a mitred abbey, pope innocent iv. having, at the request of alexander ii., empowered and authorised the abbot to assume the mitre, the ring, and other pontifical ornaments; and in the same year, in consideration of the excessive coldness of the climate, he granted to the monks the privilege of wearing caps suitable to their order; but they were, notwithstanding, enjoined to show proper reverence at the elevation of the host and other ceremonies.[337] "this sumptuous pile," says professor innes, "was destroyed and levelled with the ground by the soldiers of edward in 1303, excepting only the church and a few dwellings for the monks[338]--edward i. of england having occupied it from 6th november 1303 to 10th february 1304. it was restored, probably in much less than its former magnificence, after bruce was settled on the scottish throne, and it evidently remained in that condition until 28th march 1560, when the choir, transepts, and belfry were, with the monastic buildings, "cast down."" it was a very wealthy abbey, and the greater part of the lands in the western, southern, and eastern districts of fife, as well as in other counties, belonged to it. the abbey also possessed many rights, and the abbot was superior of lands--the property of others--and received the resignation of his vassals sitting on their bended knees, and testifying all due humility. the abbot and convent were invested with the power of enforcing their rights by excommunication, and they exercised it on several occasions. the abbey possessed the right of a free regality, with civil jurisdiction equivalent to that of a sheriff over the occupiers of the lands belonging to it, and with a criminal jurisdiction equivalent to that of the crown, wielding the power of life and death. a bailie of regality, appointed by the abbot, and officiating in his name, resided in an edifice called the bailie house, near the queen's house, and presided in the regality courts. the abbey church succeeded iona as a place of royal sepulture, and kings, queens, and princes were buried within it. gordon gives the list of eight kings, five queens, seven princes, and two princesses, besides other notable persons,[339] so that it may well be called the "scottish westminster." the abbey church, when complete, was cruciform, and comprised a seven-bayed nave, with side aisles, a transept, a choir with a lady chapel, and three towers, two western ones terminating the aisles and flanking the gable of the nave, and the great central tower rising from the crossing. the monastic buildings were also on a magnificent scale, but of the church and monastic structures there only now remain the norman nave, the base of the lady chapel, and part of the refectory and kitchen. the nave is well preserved and the piers are circular. the plan of these with that of the wall responds shows that the original intention was to groin the aisles. the two eastern bays between the eastern pillars are built up with solid masonry, and only a portion of the arches is visible. the two western bays and the triforium arches above them have also been filled up with solid building to strengthen the western towers.[340] "the pillars which support the west towers are of greater size than the others, and are of a different section. one of the pillars and the corresponding arch of the north arcade are of late gothic work, and may be part of the repairs ordered by the privy council in 1563, or of the work done in 1594 under the direction of william schaw, master of works, who at that time built the north-west tower and steeple, as well as the porch on the north side of the nave. at the same time, also, certain great buttresses were built against the outer walls, which are now conspicuous features of the structure."[341] the great western doorway, a good example of norman work, remains unaltered, and consists of five orders, having alternately round and octagonal shafts, chiefly with cushion caps, but some are ornamented with scrolls. the abacus is heavy, and is carved with sunk diapers. the orders are continued round the arches, and contain chevron ornaments (much decayed), rosettes, and diapers.[342] the outer order contains large heads and geometric figures in the alternate voussoirs--an arrangement similar to that of whithorn and dalmeny, where the geometric figures also resemble those adopted here.[343] the _original_ north doorway, partly concealed by schaw's porch, is similar in design, with the addition of an arcade above the arch, resembling but still plainer than that over the doorway of dalmeny church. the south doorway of the church is of late work, and there appears to have been another south doorway at the east end of the nave, but it is now built up.[344] the whole of the aisle walls are arcaded in the interior up to the height of the window sills, but the arcade has been partly cut away for monuments. the general design of the nave recalls that of durham cathedral, and dr. joseph robertson remarks, "though not of great size, the sombre masses of the (nave) interior are impressive. the english visitor will remark more than one point of resemblance to durham and lindisfarne; and there is no violence in the conjecture that the same head may have planned, or the same hands have hewn, part of all the three. we know that when the foundations of durham were laid in 1093 by the confessor and biographer of st. margaret, her husband malcolm was present; and when the new church received the relics of st. cuthbert in 1104, her son alexander witnessed the rites."[345] both at durham and dunfermline there are the same circular piers with zig-zag ornaments, and massive cushion caps and clustered piers occur in each. the small circular bases, resting on great square plinths, are also common to both. the triforium and clerestory are simple in design, and the aisles are vaulted and groined. the windows of the aisles are single round-headed lights, having plain sconsions, with one recessed shaft on each side, and the arch enriched with chevron mouldings.[346] internally and externally they are of similar design. from the existence of the large west end pillars, it was evidently intended from the first to have two western towers. the northern one, along with the upper part of the adjoining gable, was destroyed to a considerable extent at the reformation, and in its present state it was designed and built up by william schaw. the bold corbelling at the top recalls the similar treatment of the towers of st. machar's, aberdeen, and other examples derived from domestic architecture.[347] the south-west tower seems to have remained intact, although in a ruinous condition, till 1807, when it fell, having been struck with lightning. three years later the present top was put on the old walls.[348] the lady chapel at the east end was built to receive queen margaret's shrine, and is now reduced to a small fragment, consisting of part of the south and east walls, which remain to the height of about 2 or 3 feet. "it has been a small structure of about 26 feet 9 inches by 22 feet, of delicate and refined pointed work, as is apparent from the bases of the wall arcading and the edge of the surrounding seat, enriched with nail-head ornaments, which still exist. the lady chapel appears from an old view to have been a low structure, reaching only to the sill of the great east window of the choir, and it was evidently vaulted in two compartments."[349] no stones now remain of the thirteenth century choir, as they were all removed to make room for the modern church, begun in 1818; before this, however, considerable remains of the choir and the whole of the foundations were standing.[350] the choir was a prolongation of the present nave, having transepts and a great aisle on the north side. there was a lofty central tower of two stories, with three windows in each storey facing the four sides, and it was this part of the structure which suffered on the 28th march 1560, when "the wholl lordis and barnis that were on thys syde of forth passed to stirling, and be the way kest doun the abbey of dunfermling."[351] the nave was used as a parish church till 1821, when the new choir was opened. in the south transept of it are three much-admired white marble monuments: general bruce's by foley (1868), the hon. dashwood preston bruce's by noble (1870), and lady augusta stanley's by miss grant of kilgraston (1876). the remains of king robert the bruce were discovered in 1818 at the digging for the foundation of the new parish church. they were found wrapped in a pall of cloth of gold, thrown apparently over two coverings of sheet lead, in which the body was encased, all being enclosed in a stone coffin. "there was strong internal evidence of the remains being those of robert bruce, and after a cast of the skull had been taken, they were replaced in the coffin, immersed in melted pitch, and reinterred under mason work in front of the _pulpit_ of the new parish church. an inlaid monumental brass was in 1889 inserted in the floor over his tomb." near the east end of the church is a square tower, with terminals showing an open hewn stone-work, in place of a gothic balustrade, having in capitals on the four sides of the tower's summit the words "king robert the bruce," and at each corner of the tower there is a lofty pinnacle. the church occupies a commanding situation, from which the ground falls away on the west and south sides. the monastic buildings were on the south side of the nave, but on a lower level. of these structures considerable remains still exist. "the ground between the dark walls and the church has, in recent years, been levelled up, the outer portions of the monastic buildings serving as retaining walls. with the exception of these outer walls, the site of the monastery is thus buried."[352] the refectory stood on the south side of the cloister, and the whole length and height of its south and west walls still exist. the south wall was divided into seven bays, and in six of them there are lofty two-light windows. the eastern bay has a reading desk, from which one of the monks read aloud during meals. it is lighted from the outside by two windows. on the side next the hall there are two lofty openings.[353] adjoining the refectory on the south-west is a large tower, beneath which runs st. catherine's wynd, through a "pend" or archway, whence it is called the "pend tower." "the outside of the refectory and 'pend tower' is very imposing, with a simple row of lofty buttresses and windows along the top. the west gable wall of the refectory is still entire, and has a large window of seven lights. the tracery of this window is in good preservation, and is one of the most favourable examples of a kind of tracery developed in scotland during the fifteenth century. at the north-west corner of the refectory is the staircase tower, which leads down to the offices below, and upwards to the refectory roof, over which access was obtained to the upper story of the 'pend tower.' in the north wall of the refectory, near the west end, are the remains of a flue, which may have belonged to a fire-place. the 'pend tower' is still entire, wanting only the cape house and roof. it served as a connecting passage between the abbey buildings and the royal palace beyond. a door led from the refectory by a passage into a groined chamber, and from thence into a room in the palace situated over the kitchen. the kitchen is a lofty room, now roofless, having remains of large fire-places and some curious recesses. below the kitchen, but entering from another part of the palace, there is a large vaulted apartment with central pillars. these pillars were continued up through the kitchen, and probably to the room, now gone, which stood over the kitchen. another arched passage led from this apartment through below st. catherine's wynd and up to the monastery. the building known as the palace was doubtless intimately connected with the monastery, and the kitchen may have been used in connection with both."[354] within the "pend tower" on the first floor is a five-sided room with a fire-place, and it appears to have been a sort of guard room. it is vaulted and has irregularly placed ribs. over this, and entering from the circular stair adjoining, is another groin-vaulted room, which had a fire-place of good design. the passage and staircase are additions made at the time when the tower was built, and the arches were thrown between the already existing buttresses of the refectory, and in the second bay the arch is at a low level to permit of the descending stair, while the builders have just managed to save a very beautiful doorway belonging to the earlier building, and now hardly seen in the shadow of the overhanging addition.[355] to the east of the refectory is a narrow chamber with the remains of a two-light window in the south wall, and projecting southwards from this is the lower part of the wall of the fratery, reaching as high as the floor of the refectory. on the east side of the fratery extends the south wall of a building called the baillery prison.[356] these fragmentary structures exhaust the remains of the monastic buildings. the chapter-house was on the east side of the cloister garth. the monastery was burned by edward i. in 1303-4, but tytler says the church escaped.[357] froissart states that in 1385 richard ii. burned the abbey and town, and it is doubted if any of the existing monastic buildings belong to an earlier date than that last mentioned.[358] "william schaw, master of works, besides the buildings already referred to,[359] erected in 1594 certain of the immense buttresses which form such conspicuous features in all the views of the abbey. he likewise built, and doubtless designed, the queen's house and the bailie and constabulary house. in connection with the latter houses there are considerable remains of buildings still existing to the north-west of the abbey, and there seems every probability that they formed part of the structures of the abbey and of the queen's house. they are extremely picturesque as seen from the low ground to the west. the lofty house on the right hand dates probably from the end of the seventeenth century, and is a fine example of the period. the adjoining buildings are considerably earlier, and in the lower parts, where they are buttressed, they are probably of pre-reformation times. the upper portions are somewhat later, and are very likely part of the work of schaw. the porch to the latter buildings is on the other side, and is quaint and well known from being seen from the church. william schaw died in 1602, and was buried in the nave, when the monument to his memory was erected by order of queen anne."[360] _paisley abbey (renfrewshire)._--in his history of this great abbey, the very rev. dr. cameron lees thus describes its situation:- "in the heart of the busy town of paisley stands the abbey, its venerable appearance contrasting most strangely with its surroundings. many chimneys--so many that it seems impossible to count them--pour forth their smoke on every side of it; crowds of operatives jostle past it; heavily laden carts cause its old walls to tremble; the whirr of machinery and the whistle of the railway engine break in upon its repose; while within a stone's throw of it flows the river cart, the manifold defilements of which have passed into a proverb. but it is not difficult, even without being imaginative, to see how beautiful for situation was once the spot where the abbey rose in all its unimpaired and stately grace. it stood on a fertile and perfectly level piece of ground, close by the cart, then a pure mountain stream, which, after falling over some bold and picturesque rocks in the middle of its channel, moved quietly by the abbey walls on its course to the clyde. divided from the abbey by this stream, rose wooded slopes, undulating like waves of the sea till they reached the lofty ridge called the braes of gleniffer, from the summit of which the lay brother, as he herded his cattle or swine, could get views of the argyleshire hills, the sharp peaks of arran, and the huge form of ben lomond. to the north, on the other side of the clyde, were the fertile glades of kilpatrick, and beyond, the campsie range. gardens and deer parks girdled the abbey round; few houses were near except the little village of dependants on the other side of the stream; and no sound beyond the precincts broke the solitude, save the wind as it roared through the beech forest, the bell of a distant chapel, or, on a calm evening, the chimes of the cathedral of saint mungo, seven miles away. it was a well-chosen spot, answering in every way the requirements of the benedictines, who, we are told, "preferred to build in an open position at the back of a wooded chain of hills.""[361] paisley illustrates what was said by dr. cosmo innes regarding the country as a whole. "scotland of the twelfth century had no cause to regret the endowment of a church.... repose was the one thing most wanted, and people found it under the protection of the crozier."[362] the church became the great factor in the development of civilisation throughout the district. had not the monastic system been good, it would not have lasted so long; had it not had within it the elements of weakness, it would not have come to such an untimely end. and even while we criticise it is well to recall the words of newman: "not a man in europe who talks bravely against the church, but owes it to the church that he can talk at all."[363] the great abbey of paisley was much to its neighbourhood, and its history is the history of its district. it is a memorial of the coming to scotland of the great family of stewart, which has left such a deep impress on scottish history. walter, son of alan of shropshire, joined david i. at the siege of winchester, and the king showed to him great favour, taking him into his household, and conferring on him the title of lord high steward of scotland. king malcolm was even more generous, ratified the title to walter and his heirs, and bestowed on him a wide territory, chiefly in renfrewshire.[364] the steward soon colonised after the fashion of the time, built a castle for himself in the neighbourhood of renfrew, and gave holdings to his followers throughout the wide territory of strathgyff, as his renfrewshire property was called. but in those days no colonisation was complete without a monastery, and this the lord high steward proceeded to found, entering into an agreement with humbold, prior of wenlock abbey in the native county of his family, to establish at "passelay" a house of the cluniac order of benedictines, being the same order as the house at wenlock. humbold in 1169 brought thirteen monks from the parent house, and, having settled them at renfrewshire in an island of the clyde called the king's inch, returned to wenlock. there was at this time in paisley an early church, dedicated to st. mirinus, an irish saint of the sixth century, and a disciple of the great school of st. congal at bangor. st. mirin was a contemporary of st. columba, and must have been a friend of the great apostle of scotland. he was probably the founder of the early celtic church at paisley, and seems to have been an itinerant preacher round the district, regarding paisley as his centre, where at last, "full of miracles and holiness, he slept in the lord." it matters little whether these legends regarding miracles are historically correct, for the value lies in the moral of them. "the falsehood would not have been invented unless it had started in a truth, and in all these legends there is set forth the victory of a good and beneficent man over evil, whether it be of matter or of spirit."[365] when the monks had founded their church at paisley they dedicated it to the virgin mary, to st. james, st. milburga, and st. mirinus. st. james was the patron saint of the stewarts, and to him the church on the inch of renfrew, where the monks first took up their abode, was dedicated. st. milburga was the patron saint of wenlock, and it was natural that the shropshire monks should place their new home at paisley under the patronage of a saint whom they held in reverence, and who was a link between paisley and the scene of former days. st. mirinus was the celtic saint of the neighbourhood, and by calling the new monastery after his name they reconciled the sympathies of the people to themselves, and connected their church with the old historic church of scotland. the monastery was at first in the second rank of religious houses, and was ruled by a prior. the abbey of clugny was very jealous of raising any of its subordinate houses to the rank of an abbey, but it was very inconvenient for the monastery of paisley to be in subjection to one so far away as the french abbot, and commissioners appointed by a papal bull in 1219 decreed that the monks of paisley might proceed to the canonical election of an abbot, the patron of paisley, the lord high stewart, also giving his permission. twenty-six years later, the abbot of clugny surrendered his rights, which had been reserved by the papal bull,--the monks, through the bishop of glasgow, promising prompt payment of the two marks for the future, and undertaking that the abbot of paisley should personally or by proxy visit clugny every seven years to make obeisance and render an account to his superior.[366] william was probably the first abbot of paisley, and he presided from 1225 to 1248. he established and consolidated the prosperity of the convent, and obtained from the popes several bulls conferring privileges on the monastery.[367] the following picture, drawn by a master-hand, has been applied by dr. lees to the monastic life at paisley during the prosperous reigns of alexander ii. and iii. "in black tunics, the mementoes of death, and in leathern girdles, the emblems of chastity, might then be seen carters silently yoking their bullocks to the team, and driving them in silence to the field, or shepherds interchanging some inevitable whispers while they watched their flocks; or wheelwrights, carpenters, and masons plying their trades like the inmates of some dumb asylum, and all pausing from their labours as the convent bell, sounding the hours of prime, nones, or vespers, summoned them to join in spirit where they could not repair in person, to those sacred offices. around the monastic buildings might be seen the belt of cultivated land continually encroaching on the adjoining forest, and the passer-by might trace to the toil of these mute workmen the opening of roads, the draining of marshes, the herds grazing, and the harvests waving in security under the shelter of ecclesiastical privileges which even the estergoth and vandal regarded with respect. if we exchange for the 'estergoth and vandal' the marauding baron and highland chief, the picture is a true one of the surroundings of paisley abbey in those peaceful years."[368] "during the prosperous reigns of kings alexander ii. and iii. the church was erected, but of the work of that period (the thirteenth century) there remain only a portion of the west front and part of the south wall of the nave, including the south-east doorway to the cloister and three windows. the structure appears to have suffered severely during the war of independence. it stood in the vicinity of elderslie, the land of sir william wallace, and doubtless met with a similar savage treatment to that allotted to the patriot leader. it is stated to have been burnt by the english in 1307, and the burning would appear to have led to a very complete destruction of the edifice, as the portions of the original work which survive are very small."[369] the abbey church was a parish church, within the territory of which the house of elderslie was situated, and the connection of the family of elderslie with the monks of paisley would naturally be very close. wallace himself was probably educated at the school of the paisley clunaics,[370] and the influence of the abbey may have helped to mould within him the character which fordun thus describes:- "he (wallace) venerated the church and respected the clergy; his greatest abhorrence was for falsehood and lying; his uttermost loathing for treason, and therefore the lord was with him, through whom he was a man whose every work prospered in his hand."[371] the monks of paisley during the times of wallace and bruce were on the patriotic side. after bruce had murdered the red comyn before the altar of the franciscan friars at dumfries, the deed lay heavy on his conscience, and the steward used his influence with the pope to procure absolution. a commission was issued to the abbot of paisley by berengarius, the penitentiary of the pope, to absolve the bruce and appoint him proper penance for his crime. "how the duty committed to him was discharged by the abbot or what penance he enjoined, we do not know. it may have been to fulfil the penance imposed at paisley that bruce desired so ardently to visit the holy sepulchre. he was excommunicated again soon afterwards, and years elapsed before he was finally restored to the favour of the church; but his absolution at paisley was a gleam of sunshine in the midst of his stormy life, and one of the most interesting pictures in the history of our abbey is that of the monarch kneeling before its altar and amidst its fire-stained walls."[372] james, the steward, died on 16th july 1309, and, like the earlier stewarts, was probably buried in the ruined abbey. he was succeeded by his son walter, who married marjory, the daughter of robert the bruce. their married life was short, and the untimely death of marjory took place within a year. walter died at bathgate in 1326, and, like his wife, was buried in the abbey. "when long time their dule had made the corps to paslay have they had, and there with great solemnity and with great dule eirded was he." robert, the son of walter and marjory, was but a boy of ten or eleven years of age at his father's death, but he was a boy with great expectations. failing the death of the king's son without heirs, the scottish parliament had solemnly ratified his succession to the scottish throne. king robert the bruce died in 1329, and his only son, david ii., succeeded him. by neither of his marriages had he any issue, and he was succeeded by his sister's son, robert ii., who became the founder of the stewart dynasty. "the abbey was now under royal patronage, and walter, the son of alan, its founder--the shropshire colonist--the progenitor of a race of kings."[373] under royal favour and patronage the abbey entered on a course of prosperity, unbroken till the time of the reformation. robert ii. died in 1390, and was buried at scone. "if this be true, he was the first of the stewarts who were laid elsewhere than in the precincts of the abbey, and the circumstance is all the more strange because elizabeth more, the much-loved wife of his youth, and euphan ross, his queen, are buried there."[374] robert iii. had two sons, the elder of whom was david, duke of rothesay (1378-1402). he was under the guardianship of albany, who after a short time starved him to death at falkland. robert, anxious for the safety of his younger son, james, resolved to send him to france, but on his way thither he was captured by an english vessel, and thereafter imprisoned in the tower of london. there is good reason for believing that albany and the douglases had to do with the imprisonment of the prince, and they did everything to prevent his release. when the news was brought to the king in the castle of rothesay, he succumbed to paroxysms of grief, and died 4th april 1406. "touched by grief," says fordun, "his bodily strength vanished, his countenance paled, and, borne down by sorrow, he refused all food, until at last he breathed forth his spirit to his creator." he was buried in the abbey of paisley before the high altar, and was the last of the stewarts who was laid there.[375] after the destruction of the abbey, caused by the wars with england, the edifice seems to have remained for long in a dismantled condition, but gifts having been received from the bishops of argyle and glasgow to aid the restoration of the building, the work was begun. besides, the abbey was from 1388 to 1408 under the ban of excommunication, and this must have powerfully added to the delay in the building operations. part of this work was carried out under abbot lithgow (1384-1433), who was buried by his own desire in the north porch, where his memory is still preserved. the chief part of the rebuilding of the abbey church was carried out under abbot thomas de tervas (1445-1459). the _chronicle of auchinleck_ says of this abbot:- "the quhilk wes ane richt gud man, and helplyk to the place of ony that ever wes, for he did mony notabil thingis, and held ane nobil hous, and wes ay wele purvait. he fand the place al out of gud reule, and destitute of leving, and al the kirkis in lordis handis, and the kirk unbiggit. the bodie of the kirk fra the bucht stair up he biggit, and put on the ruf, and theekit it with sclats and riggit it with stane, and biggit ane great porcioun of the steple, and ane staitlie yet-hous: and brocht hame mony gude jowellis, and clathis of gold, silver, and silk, and mony gud bukis, and made statelie stallis, and glassynnit mekle of al the kirk, and brocht hame the staitliest tabernakle that wes in al skotland, and the maist costlie: and schortlie he brocht al the place to fredome and fra nocht till ane michty place, and left it out of al kind of det, and al fredome, till dispone as them lykit, and left ane of the best myteris that wes in skotland, and chandillaris of silver, and ane lettren of brass, with mony uther gud jowellis."[376] abbot thomas is said to have obtained the privilege of having a tavern and selling wine within the gates of the monastery, and is believed to have raised money thereby for the reconstruction of his church.[377] the quaint language of the ancient _chronicle of auchinleck_, translated into ordinary english, means that besides journeying to rome and procuring the articles mentioned, he carried up the triforium and clerestory, finished the roof, erected a great part of the steeple, and built a stately gate-house. at the death of abbot tervas, pope pius ii. decreed that the disposition of the office and of the whole revenues of the monastery should fall to the pope, and he appointed henry crichton, a monk of dunfermline, to be commendator of the abbey, and assigned a pension of 300 florins out of the revenues to pietro barlo, cardinal of st. mark's in venice, to be paid to him by henry and his successors at the feast of st. john the baptist, under pain of excommunication, in case of his failing to make payment within thirty days after the appointed term, and total deprivation if he persisted in his opposition six months after his excommunication. when he got himself fairly installed as abbot he declined to pay the stipulated pension to the cardinal of st. mark's, and made some legal quibble the ground of his neglect. trouble followed, and since this, the appointment of its first commendator, the rights of the abbey began to be invaded. abbot george shaw (1472-1498) endeavoured to guard the monastery against encroachments; he built a refectory and other structures, reared a lofty tower over the principal gate, enclosed the church, the precincts of the convent, the gardens, and a little park for deer within a wall about a mile in circuit.[378] of this once magnificent wall, with its four-sided beautiful stones and lofty statues, very few fragments now remain, but there are still two tablets that belonged to it. the central shield bears the royal arms, the shields to the right and left of it the stewart arms and the abbot's own; and there is an inscription by the pious builder himself, which is as follows:- ye call it ye abbot georg of schawe about yis abbey gart make yis waw a thousande four hundereth zheyr auchty ande fywe the date but veir [pray for his saulis salvacioun] that made thys nobil fundacioun. it has been thought that this inscription was designed by john morow, whose name appears on a tablet in melrose abbey.[379] "the character of the lettering in design and workmanship is the same as at melrose. the references to the building operations, the poetical form of the composition, the manner in which the names are introduced, 'callit was i,' and 'ye callit,' and the devout expressions with which they close, make it clear that the inscriptions are the work of the same author." the fifth line is chiselled away, and was possibly deleted because it did not harmonise with the theology of the reformed church. abbot george shaw was succeeded by his nephew, robert shaw, vicar of munkton, and a son of the governor of stirling. he was canonically elected, and his election was approved by the crown,--the pope also gave his consent on condition that robert shaw should take the monastic habit within six months, and decreed that the old abbot should enjoy as his pension a third part of the fruits of the monastery, and might return to his former position when he thought proper. robert shaw took office in 1498, and his uncle lived for some years after, "the pensioner of the abbey" as he is called in charters. george shaw died probably in 1505, and dr. lees says of him:- "he filled his place well, and the visitor to paisley who sees his shield of three covered cups with the pastoral crook behind them upon the wall of one of the outhouses, which has been ruthlessly transformed by modern iconoclasts, or reads the defaced inscription which tells of the 'nobil fundacioun' he reared, will do well to remember that they are the memorials of a good man, one of the best of his time, to whose wisdom and benevolence the town of paisley owes its existence."[380] this refers to the creation of paisley as a burgh by abbot shaw, who obtained in 1488 a charter creating the village of paisley into a free burgh of barony, and thereby raising the status of the people both socially and politically. the burgher was no longer in the condition of a serf or slave, who could be transferred from one master to another, and he escaped from all the severities and exactions of the feudal system. the burghs had power of self-government, and were able to develop commercial and industrial operations. the burgh of paisley was endowed with the usual privileges, and a right to hold a market every monday, and two yearly fairs--one on the day of st. mirren, and the other on the day of st. marnock. in 1490 the abbot and chapter granted to the magistrates of the burgh in feu-farm the ground on which the old town stands and certain other privileges. after an examination of the rental book, dr. lees regards it as "corroborating all that historians tell us regarding the lands of those ecclesiastics being the best cultivated and the best managed in scotland.... the neighbourhood of a convent was always recognisable by the well-cultivated land and the happy tenantry which surrounded it, and those of the abbey of paisley were no exception to the general rule prevailing throughout the rest of scotland.[381] "the monks were kind masters. no cases of eviction or deprivation are recorded. the same lands descended without rise of rent from father to son. children are held bound to maintain their parents in their old age, and widows are specially cared for, and are occasionally provided with another husband!"[382] during the fifteenth century many altars were erected and endowed by the burgesses, and the chapel of st. mirin, which occupies part of the site of the south transept, was erected in 1499, and endowed by james crawford of kylwynet, a burgess of paisley, and his wife. abbot robert (1498-1525) was received on 19th october 1525 as bishop of moray in the cathedral of his northern diocese, and the next abbot was john hamilton, a natural son of the earl of arran, who had entered the church as a monk of kilwinning, and whom magnus speaks of with contempt as a "yonge thing." the earl was high in favour with the queen, who had at the time the disposal of the church benefices, and he wished the bishopric for his son. the queen, however, appointed abbot robert to the see of moray, and hamilton to the abbey of paisley. it was one of the deeds of shame enacted in the scottish church which ultimately brought its severe judgment. abbot john hamilton (1525-1547) rebuilt at immense cost the first tower that appears to have had insecure foundation, and fell. it seems to have had an untimely end, falling, according to one account, with its own weight, and with it the choir of the church, or, according to an another account, being struck with lightning. in 1559, with kilwinning and dunfermline, the abbey of paisley was suppressed, and what that meant can best be expressed in the words of sir walter scott:- "they fumigated the church with burnt wool and feathers instead of incense, put foul water into the holy-water basins; they sung ludicrous and indecent parodies to the tunes of church hymns; they violated whatever vestments belonging to the abbey they could lay their hands upon; and playing every freak which the whim of the moment could suggest to their wild caprice. at length they fell to more lasting deeds of demolition, pulled down and destroyed carved woodwork, dashed out the painted windows, and in their vigorous search after sculpture dedicated to idolatry, began to destroy what ornaments yet remained entire upon the tombs and around the cornices of the pillars." although the monks were expelled, the people of paisley still continued firm in adhering to the old faith, and the doors of the abbey were "steyked" against the reformed preachers. the abbot and his friends were accused as "in the toun of paslay, kirkyard and abbey place thereof, openlie, publicklie, and plainlie taking auricular confession in the said kirk, toun, kirkyaird, chalmeris, barns, middens, and killogies thereof, and thus makand an alteration and innovation in the state of religion, which our soverane lady found publicklie standing and professit within this realm, ministrand, and alswa irreverently and indecentlie the sacramentis of holy kirk, namely, the sacramentis of the body and blood of our lord jesus christ." it was a serious charge, and if proven was punishable by death. hamilton had a powerful friend in queen mary, who interfered in his behalf, and he and his companions were committed to ward. besides retaining the office of abbot at paisley, hamilton was appointed bishop of dunkeld in 1543-44 by his brother, acting for the queen, and after the murder of cardinal beaton, on 29th may 1546, was raised to the position of archbishop of st. andrews and primate of scotland. probably he never returned to paisley until, in the adversities of his later years, and the monastery being sacked and burnt by the reformers, he was forced to take refuge at dumbarton castle, where he was made prisoner, and afterwards executed at stirling. the master of sempill had been appointed bailie of the monastery, and, at the dissolution, the whole of the church property was handed over to lord sempill. the property finally came into the possession of lord claud hamilton, nephew of the archbishop, and the monastic buildings were converted into the "place of paisley," the residence of the abercorn family. after the archbishop's execution his body was quartered, and afterwards buried, probably in paisley. dr. lees says:- "there is in the church a tablet, which looks as if it had marked his grave. it has upon it the archbishop's coat of arms, the letters j. h., the initials of his name, and the motto he assumed, and which contrasts strangely with his troubled life and tragic end--'misericordia et pax.'"[383] amid all that is said against the last archbishop of the old church of scotland, and the last abbot of paisley, it is well to recall that the "catechisme," which usually passes under his name, from having been printed at his expense at st. andrews in 1552, exhibits a solitary instance of an attempt on the part of the old roman catholic clergy to convey spiritual instruction to the people, and is creditable to archbishop hamilton's memory.[384] referring to the disposal of the abbey property, dr. lees says:- "the manner in which the church property was gifted away forms a scandalous episode in the history of scotland. men like claud hamilton, who never had done anything for their country, became enriched and ennobled through the spoliation. it is vain to picture regretfully what might have been; but any one can see how much better it would have been for scotland if the whole community, instead of a few unworthy individuals, had got the benefit of the church's wealth. those who did get it have in too many instances made a very miserable use of their ill-gotten gain."[385] prior to the reformation the monastery consisted of a church, the cloister and conventual buildings. the church comprised a long aisleless choir, a nave with aisles, a north transept, a south transept, with st. mirin's chapel attached to the south of it, and a tower and spire over the crossing.[386] the choir walls, containing an elegant sedilia and piscina, remain standing to the height of 9 feet, and it is questioned whether the choir was ever finished during the restoration. there is a string-course all round; the building is of fifteenth century work, and occupies the place of an earlier choir, which has been demolished. the wall at the east end of the nave, which separates it from the transept, may have been erected during the restoration of the fifteenth century, with the intention of rendering the nave a complete church until the transept and choir were restored. this seems to have been in progress when the reformation interrupted the work. the design of the sedilia resembles that at st. monans, fife, and adjoining the sedilia is the piscina, the aperture of which is still visible. the north transept is in ruins, but the north wall, with the remains of a fine traceried window, still exists, as well as a traceried window in the west wall. the south transept is also in ruins, while the tower and spire have disappeared. st. mirin's chapel is well preserved, but the openings connecting it with the south transept are built up. the nave survives as a whole, and contains six bays, divided by massive piers, and surmounted by a triforium and clerestory. there is a north porch, and two doorways from the cloister on the south side. the oldest portion of the building is pronounced to be the eastern part of the south wall of the south aisle of the nave, where it adjoins the transept. this portion of the wall consists of three bays, containing the s.e. doorway from the cloister to the nave, and three pointed windows in the upper part. the doorway is of the transition style, and the windows above are simple in style, and are early pointed work--this part of the building probably dating from the first half of the thirteenth century.[387] the western portion of the south aisle of the nave and the whole of the south clerestory are evidently portions of the restored church of the fifteenth century.[388] the south aisle wall contains the s.w. and s.e. doors from the nave to the cloister. the west end of the nave is in part amongst the ancient portions of the structure, and the western entrance doorway is thirteenth century work.[389] the aisle windows of the west front belong to the first pointed period. the upper portion of the west front above the two large windows is of considerably later date.[390] "the design of the west front, which contains above the door-piece two large windows, with pointed niches and small circles inserted between the arch-heads, is probably original, but the upper portion and gable, including the large traceried window, are doubtless part of the restoration of the fifteenth century. the tracery of the two central windows is peculiar, and may possibly be of the fourteenth century, but that of the large upper window is later, probably of the same period as the restoration of the interior of the nave. the tracery of the large upper window is a specimen of the late kind of design employed in scotland in the fifteenth century."[391] the interior of the west end of the nave exhibits the change of style caused by the restoration of the fifteenth century. the first or western bay of the main arcade is original, including the first arches (one on each side), the first pillars, and the arches between them, and the aisle responds. "these pillars and arches are of large dimensions and first pointed section, and appear to have been designed to carry western towers, but a part of their thickness has been cut off next the choir. a portion of the triforium wall, a piece of the string-course over the main arcade, and the corbelled vaulting shaft in the angle as high as the top of the triforium, are also parts of the original structure. the later work has been joined to the above old parts in a very awkward manner."[392] the cap of the west pier on the north side belongs to the first pointed work, while the corresponding cap on the south side and all the other caps belong to the fifteenth century restoration.[393] except the west piers, the piers of the nave are of the clustered form, common in late scottish work, and might be about the same date as the restoration of st. giles, edinburgh (which they resemble), in the early part of the fifteenth century.[394] the triforium design consists of large segmental arches, the same width as the main arches, springing from short clustered piers introduced between them. it somewhat resembles the triforium of the nave at dunkeld cathedral. the clerestory is probably designed in imitation of that of glasgow cathedral, and is divided into two pointed arches in each bay. they spring from a series of clustered shafts with round moulded caps that are late imitations of early work.[395] the earlier part of the nave restoration, including the main piers and arches, and perhaps the tracery of the two lower windows of the west front, were possibly executed by bishop lithgow, who built the north porch, and the completion of the nave (the upper portions) was carried out in the time of abbot tervas--the middle of the fifteenth century. a peculiarity of the nave interior is a series of large corbels, which project from the spandrils of the triforium arcade, and the object of which was to enable a passage to be carried round the solid piers introduced between the windows. each of the large corbels springs at its lowest point from the sculptured grotesque figure of a man or animal. they were mostly the work of thomas hector, a sculptor, who lived at crossflat,[396] and whom the abbot retained for his skill in the art.[397] the employment of such grotesque figures was very much affected by the monks of clugny, and was the occasion of a rebuke from st. bernard. "what business had these devils and monstrosities in christian churches, taking off the attention of the monks from their prayers." one of these figures near the west gable represents a man in a kilt, and dr. lees thinks that many worshippers in the abbey in more modern times have in the midst of long sermons found relief in the contemplation of those curious carvings which the saint thus vigorously denounced.[398] st. mirin's aisle was erected in 1499, and there is a large pointed window in the east end, having jambs with single shafts. it is divided into four lights, and the arch-head is filled with good simple tracery. beneath the eastern window is a frieze of one foot eight inches deep between two cornices of eight inches deep, which were intended for sculpture. three compartments, measuring four feet, at the north or right side, and seven compartments, measuring ten feet, at the south or left side, are carved and filled with sculpture. dr. lees says the reference of them to mirin is clear beyond all doubt: "in the one on the extreme left we see mirin's mother bringing him to st. congal. in the next st. congal putting the religious habit on mirin. in the next mirin taking oversight of the monastery of banchor. there is after this a blank, and then we have certain sculptures relating to mirin's encounter with the irish king, who wears a crown on his head. in the first we have the servant of the king driving mirin away from the door of the palace. in the next the king roaring with pain and held by his servants. in the next the queen lying in bed with a picture of the virgin on the wall, it being the custom to hang such before women during confinement. then we have the king on his knees before mirin, and afterwards mirin received by him with joy. the next two sculptures represent the last two acts of the saint--the brother looking through the keyhole and seeing mirin illuminated by a celestial light, and the saint restoring to life the dead man in the valley of colpdasch.... as they are evidently earlier than the date of the erection of the chapel, they have probably been transferred with the relics of the saint from an older shrine. they look like twelfth-century work, but it is possible they may be even earlier."[399] the ceiling of the chapel is beautifully groined, and the east end, where the altar stood, is raised four steps above the western part. the west wall contains an outer doorway from the cloister court, and there is a traceried window above it. a large ambry adjoins the door in the outer wall. the chapel was connected with the south transept by two wide archways, now built up, and near the east end is a piscina, with three-sided head, like that in the choir. there is a dormitory above the chapel, arched by stone, and the entrance is by a doorway in the middle of the south side of the arch. the apartment is lighted by two windows--one in the east gable, and the other in the west. in the west gable there is a private stair leading from the dormitory to the chapel, and the priest, who was bound by the charter to live at the chapel, doubtless occupied the sleeping-place above it.[400] the chapel at the reformation was converted into a family burying-place by claud hamilton, the commendator, and various members of the abercorn family lie buried in the vault below, the chapel belonging to the present duke, and being under his control. on the floor of this chapel there now stands an ornamental altar tomb, which was found lying in fragments near the abbey by the rev. dr. boog, one of the abbey ministers, and who in 1817 had it brought within the chapel and erected again. it supports a recumbent figure, believed to be the effigy of marjory bruce, the daughter of robert i. and the mother of robert ii. "the head of the figure is surmounted by a large cusped canopy, placed in a horizontal position, on the end of which is carved a crucifixion. the pedestal is carved with a series of gothic compartments, in each of which there is carved a shield, enriched with heraldic blazons and figures of ecclesiastics. the panels at the west end contain--the first the _fess chequé_ of the stewarts between three roses; the third the _fess chequé_, surmounted of a lion rampant, and the central one, two keys saltierwise, between two crosiers in pale."[401] the chapel is famed for an echo, described by pennant in his _tour through scotland_,[402] but dr. lees regards the description of the far-famed traveller as either much exaggerated, or the strength of the echo has become diminished since his time. "when any number of persons are within the building, an echo is scarcely audible at all. it is amusing sometimes to see a group of people expending the strength of their lungs in vain by attempting to evoke it."[403] crosses seem to have been placed at intervals on the roads leading to the church. one of the south piers of the nave is called the cathcart pillar, and has carved upon it a shield bearing the cathcart arms. this is believed to be a memorial of sir allan cathcart, who has thus been described by barbour:- a knycht, that their wis in hys rout, worthy and wycht, stalwart and stout, curtaiss and fayr, and off gud fame, schyr allane of catkert by name. king robert the bruce died in 1329, and sir allan of cathcart and sir james of douglass sailed in 1330 for the holy land with the king's heart. sir james was killed in spain in conflict with the moors, and sir allan came back with the heart of the king, which was buried in melrose abbey. the pillar commemorates his safe return. on the west buttress of the north transept, at 21 feet in height, is the shield of the stewarts, with a pastoral staff, and the word "stewart." the first central tower erected over the crossing seems to have been of inferior workmanship and to have given way. another is believed to have been erected by abbot tervas, which probably fell during the siege by lennox and glencairn, and may have destroyed much of the choir and transept in its fall. western towers appear to have been contemplated. "we are only able," says dr. cameron lees, "to conjecture what was the position of the conventual buildings. but after comparing the plan of wenlock, from which the monks originally came, with that of crosraguel, which they afterwards erected, we think it is probable that the chapter-house, with saint mirin's chapel, occupied the east side of the cloister court, the refectory the south side, and the dormitory the west. the abbot's house probably stood at the south end of what is called cotton street. there were buildings also between the abbey and the river cart attached to the monastery, portions of the foundations of which are occasionally uncovered."[404] "the shape of the cloister court has been partially retained. the conventual buildings were almost all converted after the reformation into dwelling-houses, and though fragments of the old houses, such as an occasional pillar or arch, are to be found, there is little to remind one of dormitory, parlour, or refectory."[405] the nave is still used as the parish church. about 1782 it was in a dreadful condition. the roof was full of holes, through which the birds obtained free access, "distracting the attention of the worshippers in time of sermon." they built their nests and reared their young under the arches of the clerestory. a few of the gentry had "lofts" or galleries, but the bulk of the worshippers brought their seats to church with them, while the poorest sat upon stones on the earthen floor.[406] things had become so bad that the heritors thought of pulling down the abbey, and building a "commodious kirk" with the stones.[407] this insane proposal was averted from execution by the energy and wisdom of the rev. dr. boog, minister of the first charge in 1782, and to him the country owes the credit of preserving all that now remains. "he received much assistance from the dowager countess of glasgow, who resided at hawkhead, and through their joint exertions the abbey was not only saved from destruction, but was repaired in a way which, considering the ignorance of that time on the subject of restoration, was highly creditable."[408] dr. lees describes the condition of the building at his induction in 1859 as dreadful: "the interior was like a vault in a churchyard."[409] but thanks to the exertions of the rev. mr. wilson and dr. lees himself, several thousand pounds were collected and spent in remedying this state of affairs. the church was made seemly as a venerable temple for prayer ought to be. "the unsightly galleries were taken down, the floor cleared of the accumulated rubbish of centuries, the body of the church re-seated, the clerestory windows opened up, the transept walls and windows restored, and the turrets rebuilt. men of all creeds contributed to the work, and when the abbey, on the 27th april 1862, was re-opened for public worship, it could scarcely be recognised, so changed was it from its former condition."[410] in closing his splendid volume dr. lees adds, "we trust the time is not far distant when the abbey of the first stewart will stand forth again in all its pristine beauty--with transept, and choir, and tower, as in the days of the founder." that hope will soon pass into a reality, and scotland will have a completely restored abbey church used as a parish church. _kelso abbey (roxburghshire)._--in 1113 david, earl of huntingdon, and heir-presumptive to the scottish throne, introduced a colony of thirteen reformed benedictine monks from the newly founded abbey of tiron in picardy, and planted it near his forest castle of selkirk. he endowed it with large possessions in scotland, and a valuable territory in his southern earldom of huntingdon, but the french monks were dissatisfied with their position on the banks of the ettrick, and on david's accession to the throne of his brother he removed them from selkirk--"a place unsuitable for an abbey"--and established the monastery "at the church of the blessed virgin on the bank of the tweed, beside roxburgh, in the place called calkow."[411] the abbey was dedicated to the virgin and st. john the baptist. its first abbot was ralph, one of the french monks, and the scotch chronicles state that he succeeded st. bernard, the reformer of the order, in his abbacy at tiron, on his death in 1116, but dr. cosmo innes thinks this can scarcely be reconciled with the succession of abbots as given by the french writers.[412] the monastery soon became the richest and most powerful in scotland, and in 1165 the pope granted permission to the abbot to wear the mitre, and the abbot claimed precedence of all the superiors of monasteries in scotland. in 1420 this precedence was decided by james i. in favour of the prior of st. andrews.[413] many of the abbots were distinguished men, who were employed in the affairs of the kingdom, and several were promoted to bishoprics.[414] foremost in rank and power, the monks of kelso also vindicated their place by the practice of the monastic virtues, and a copy of wyntoun's _chronicle_ is supposed to have been written at kelso.[415] they seem to have recalled the saying, claustrum sine lîteratura vivi hominis est sepultura ("the cloister without literature is the grave of a living man"), and dr. cosmo innes remarks "that the arts were cultivated within the abbey walls we may conclude without much extrinsic evidence. the beautiful and somewhat singular architecture of the ruined church itself still gives proof of taste and skill and some science in the builders, at a period which the confidence of modern times has proclaimed dark and degraded; and if we could call up to the fancy the magnificent abbey and its interior decorations, to correspond with what remains of that ruined pile, we should find works of art that might well exercise the talents of high masters. the erection of such a structure often extended over several hundred years. kelso bears mark of having been a full century in building; and during all that time at least, perhaps for long afterwards, the carver of wood, the sculptor in stone and marble, the tile-maker and the lead and iron-worker, the painter, whether of scripture stories or of heraldic blazonings, the designer and the worker in stained glass for those gorgeous windows which we now vainly try to imitate--must each have been in requisition, and each, in the exercise of his art, contributed to raise the taste and cultivate the minds of the inmates of the cloister. of many of these works the monks themselves were the artists and artisans, and it would be a grievous mistake to suppose that the effect was merely that of living and working in an artist's shop. the interest and honour of the convent, the honest rivalry with neighbouring houses and other orders; above all, the zeal for religion which was honoured by their efforts, the strong desire to render its rites magnificent, and to set forth in a worthy manner the worship of the deity--all these gave to the works of the old monks a principle and a feeling above what modern art must ever hope to reach."[416] situated as it was near the border, the abbey suffered severely during the war of independence. the monastery was laid waste and the monks were supported by contributions from the other houses of their own order. in 1344 the abbey buildings were destroyed by fire, and david ii. granted permission to the monks to cut wood in selkirk and jedwart forest to enable them to carry out the necessary repairs. in 1511 the bishop of caithness was appointed commendator, and decline of the abbey soon followed. after the battle of flodden in 1513, david ker of cessford took possession of the abbey, and his brother was appointed abbot. in 1522 and 1523 invasion and havoc spread over teviotdale; lords ross and dacre pillaged the town, sparing the abbey; but in 1523 lord dacre sacked and burned it. the abbot's house and buildings surrounding it, the chapel of the virgin, and the cells of the dormitory were all reduced to ashes; the lead was stripped from the roof, and the abbey rendered uninhabitable. all religious services were stopped, and the monks had to retire in want and poverty to a village near. from 1536 to 1538 james stewart, natural son of james v., was abbot, and drew the revenues. in 1542 the duke of norfolk, and in 1545 the earl of hertford, again attacked and further destroyed the abbey. on the latter occasion the garrison of the abbey--numbering 100, of whom 12 were monks--refused the summons of the herald to surrender, and succeeded in repulsing the spanish mercenaries, who were the first to attack the building. it was then bombarded and the monastery captured; but the garrison still held out in the strong square tower of the church, whence some of them, though strictly watched, escaped by means of ropes during the night. the next day the assault was resumed, the tower carried, and the defenders were put to the sword. the buildings were then sacked and destroyed, the order being given to "breik them" and "thake of the leied, and outer myen the towres and strong places, and to owaier trowe all." by the following sunday this had been strictly carried out; the abbey was razed, and "all put to royen, howsses, and towres, and stypeles." the removal of the lead to wark alone occupied the carts of the army for several days. after this the abbeys of melrose, dryburgh, and jedburgh shared in the fate of kelso,[417] but, unlike it, they did not resist. kelso abbey was still further reduced by lord eure in 1546; and finally in 1560, when a few monks still remained, the buildings were attacked by the mob, and all the remaining fittings and furnishings destroyed. in 1559 the revenues and property of the abbey were taken possession of by the lords of the congregation in the name of the crown. the temporalities were afterwards distributed amongst the favourites of james vi., and were finally conferred on sir robert ker of cessford, who was created lord roxburgh in 1599. the abbey still belongs to his successor, the duke of roxburgh, and the remains of the late duke are buried in the south transept.[418] in 1649 a vault was thrown over the transept so as to convert it into a parish church, and above this another vault served as a prison! this is seen in grose's view, made about a century ago. "during service on a sunday in 1771 a panic was caused by the fall of a fragment of cement, and the church was thereafter abandoned. the ruins were partly disencumbered by the duke of roxburgh, 1805-16, and in 1823 the buildings were repaired by the noblemen and gentlemen of the county."[419] referring to the modern town, dr. cosmo innes says:- "reposing on the sunny bank of its own beautiful river, the modern town of kelso looks a fitting rural capital for 'pleasant teviotdale.' it has little of the air of an old monastic burgh, and still less calls up any recollection of the heaps of ruins that impeded the plans of the english engineers. there is not much knowledge or tradition of its former state, and but few memorials of its old inhabitants. last year (1845) a worthy burgher, who had dug up in his garden under the abbey walls what seemed to him a rare coin of a scotch king, was scarcely well pleased to learn that it was a leaden _bulla_ of pope alexander iii., bronzed with the oxidising of seven centuries. in the midst of the modern town the abbey church stands alone, like some antique titan predominating over the dwarfs of a later world."[420] considering all the dangers and neglect of the centuries, it is astonishing that so many of the ruins still exist. the building has consisted of choir or chancel of considerable length, with north and south aisles, and of a transept and nave without aisles. the north and south divisions of the transept and nave form three arms of equal length round the three sides of the crossing, above which rises the massive square tower.[421] the church was originally constructed in the late norman style of about the end of the twelfth century, passing into the transition style--the upper part of the tower having been rebuilt at a later period.[422] of the chancel only a fragment remains--two of the south main piers with arches and two stories of arcades above, which represent the triforium and clerestory. the chancel only had aisles. the main piers consist of a circular column, five feet in diameter, with smaller attached half-columns on three sides to carry the moulded arches between the main piers and the arches between the latter and the aisles.[423] "the piers have caps of the usual norman modified cushion pattern, and the arches were moulded and arranged in several orders. the arcade immediately over the main arches has a row of single round shafts, with spreading norman caps, which carry a series of moulded arches, occupying the position of the triforium. the upper arcade, which takes the place of the clerestory, has shafts of triple form, with wide spreading bases and caps of norman and transition design. on the latter rest the round boldly-moulded arches. the arches opposite the windows in the outer wall are slightly larger than the others. it will be observed that there is no main vaulting shaft carried up over the main piers, as is almost invariably the case, for the purpose of strengthening the wall. on the contrary, the triforium arcade is continuous, and no provision is made to support the side wall, except the single shafts of the running arcade, which have a very weak effect. in the usual arrangement, the triforium arches are separated by a substantial piece of wall, including a vaulting shaft, and the triforium arch, which is generally subdivided into several subordinate arches, is introduced between the vaulting shafts. that is a much more substantial form of construction, and also more satisfactory to the eye, than the plan adopted here of a simple continuous arcade." in the exterior of this portion of the choir the outside of the clerestory windows is visible, being simple round-headed openings, with flat buttresses between them. the remainder of the wall is plain, but, judging from the level of the triforium window, the vaulting of the aisle, which was very high and partly covered the windows, seems to have been added at a later date. the crossing is square; the piers are about nine feet square--that at the south-east angle standing detached in consequence of the opening into the south aisle, while those at the north-west and south-west angles are incorporated with the walls. the piers are designed as a series of shafts, set in square nooks (four on each of the complete sides), with a large semicircular shaft at each angle. the shafts are all built in courses with the piers, and have transition bases and caps. from the latter spring large pointed arches, with plain chamfered orders. the pointed arch indicates the transitional character of this part of the building, and was probably introduced in this position to give strength to sustain the tower. the three arms of the cross branching to the north, south, and west from the crossing are of equal size--an unusual arrangement, as the nave is generally the longest division of the church. this was part of the original design, as the western doorway is one of the most prominently norman portions of the edifice, and no satisfactory explanation has yet been given of the shortness of the kelso nave. the upper portion of the west front has been in the transitional style, and the norman arcading, which runs round the interior of the nave, was continued across the west end. the nave, north and south transepts, contain each four stories in height, consisting of an interlacing arcade of norman work in the interior of the ground level, and three stories of windows above. the upper arcades of the choir do not extend round the nave and transepts, except in a portion of the south transept. the windows in the different stories have all round arches, both inside and outside, and the exterior is marked at each angle by broad and shallow norman buttresses, with nook shafts in the angles, and an interlacing arcade round the lower story, both internally and externally. in the façades of the west end and north transept the windows of the different stories have been grouped so as to form distinct designs. "in the west end, over the great west doorway, there has been an arrangement of tall windows of apparently lancet form, having on either side an interlacing arcade of round arches, supported on tall, bended shafts. this is now, unfortunately, greatly destroyed. above the arcade there runs a horizontal flat cornice, enriched with several rows of carved ornaments, and this was surmounted by a large opening of quatrefoil shape, surrounded with numerous mouldings and enrichments. the angle buttresses have been crowned with octagonal turrets."[424] the north wall of the north transept has a fine transitional door-piece, occupying the two lower stories. the next two stories have each two windows, separated by a small buttress, and the upper story has three arches in the interior. "above these stories is a small circular window with a curious saving arch over it, and the whole is crowned with a top story, containing three round-headed openings, and a gable with a small circular aperture. the buttresses at the angles are crowned with circular turrets, which have been finished with a projecting parapet, the corbels for carrying which still survive. the upper part of the gable shows signs of having been altered."[425] the west doorway and the north door-piece are interesting; the former, the south half of which has perished, and which was finished with a sloping gable and stone roof, is regarded as a rich specimen of the elaborate carved work that characterised the late norman period. "the jambs contained five detached shafts set in nooks, and having norman bases and carved caps. over each of these shafts there springs a circular order, carved with rich norman ornament, now, however, very much decayed. the jambs of the doorway also formed moulded shafts, supporting their order in the arch."[426] the door-piece of the north transept wall is a prominent feature, projects 4 feet 6 inches from the main wall, has two stories, and is roofed with a sloping stone roof. the shafts have the usual norman caps and bases, and the mouldings of the arch are pronounced to be peculiar in their profile. the outer one is enriched with small medallions, the central with the billet, and the inner one with rosettes. above the archway there is an arcade of interlacing round shafts--the shafts, which were destroyed, having norman caps. "the tympanum of the gable is covered with a reticulation of round beads or rolls."[427] the south and west sides and a small portion of the north and east sides of the tower remain. it is 35 feet square over the walls, and "is carried up with plain masonry externally, but the interior has immediately over the great arches of the crossing an arcade of round moulded arches, supported on triple shafts similar to those of the choir. above this arcade is another story containing simple round arched openings, which are lighted on the exterior by circular windows containing quatrefoils. over this tier is the upper story, which contains three pointed and deeply-recessed windows on each side of the tower. broad, flat buttresses are placed at each angle of the tower, similar to those of the main building, and these were, no doubt, originally finished with turrets like those of the transepts.... the upper part of the tower is later than the lower part. this is apparent from the pointed windows of the top story and the quatrefoiled circular windows of the story beneath. the lower story immediately over the great arches is, without doubt, of about the same date as the choir."[428] there were probably similar staircases in other parts of the structure now removed, but the approach to the upper floors is now by one staircase in the n.w. angle of the transept. passages between the arcades and the outer walls went round the building on every floor, and in the angles of the tower there are small wheel stairs leading to every floor, and passages running round the tower on every story. these arcades and passages have tended to weaken the structure, and it has been found necessary to strengthen it with numerous iron tie-rods, iron beams, etc.[429] there was an outer door in the s.w. angle of the transept, and another in the north wall of the nave adjoining the crossing. a tomb recess is in the south transept wall, and in the recess beneath are two ambries or lockers and a piscina, the only one remaining in the building. to the south of the transept there is a vaulted chamber that may have been the sacristy.[430] _arbroath abbey (forfarshire)._--this abbey was founded in 1178 by william the lion, and dedicated to s.s. mary and thomas à becket. becket had been martyred at the high altar of canterbury cathedral only seven years before, and william the lion had recently suffered defeat and capture by the english at alnwick. william had been personally acquainted with becket, and is supposed to have regarded him as a private friend. "was this the cause," asks dr. cosmo innes, "or was it the natural propensity to extol him who, living and dead, had humbled the crown of england, that led william to take st. thomas as his patron saint, and to entreat his intercession when he was in greatest trouble? or may we consider the dedication of his new abbey, and his invocation of the martyr of canterbury, as nothing more than the signs of the rapid spreading of the veneration for the new saint of the high church party, from which his old opponent himself, henry of england, was not exempt?" as showing the eagerness with which king william pushed on the buildings, hollinshed mentions that "the king came by the abbey of aberbrothoc to view the work of that house, how it went forward, commanding them that were overseers and masters of the works to spare for no cost, but to bring it up to perfection, and that with magnificence."[431] the abbey received great endowments from king william and from many subsequent princes and barons; acquired in 1204 a charter of privileges from king john of england and was one of the foremost and richest in scotland. its monks were tyronenses, and the first were brought from kelso abbey. "by the year 1178 part of the church was ready for dedication. william the lion died in 1214, and was buried in the east end of the edifice, which was then finished. shortly afterwards the south transept was sufficiently well advanced to admit of the burial within it, before the altar of st. catherine, of gilchrist, earl of angus. on the 18th of march 1233, during the time of abbot ralph de lamley, the church was dedicated. the time occupied in the erection and completion of the structure was thus a little over fifty-five years, and when its dimensions are considered, it will be found in comparison with other churches to have been carried on with great rapidity."[432] the abbots had several special privileges; they were exempted from assisting at the yearly synods; they had the custody of the brecbennach, or consecrated banner of st. columba; they acquired from pope benedict, by bull, dated at avignon, the right to wear a mitre, and were in some instances the foremost churchmen of the kingdom. the abbey was toll-free, _i.e._ protected against the local impositions which of old beset all merchandise. "but," says dr. cosmo innes, "the privilege the abbot most valued (and intrinsically the most valuable) was the tenure of all his lands, 'in free regality,' _i.e._ with sovereign power over his people, and the unlimited emoluments of criminal jurisdiction.... even after the reformation had passed over abbot and monk, the lord of regality had still the same power, and the commendator of arbroath was able to rescue from the king's justiciar and to 'repledge' into his own court four men accused of the slaughter of william sibbald of cair--as dwelling within his bounds (quasi infra bondas ejusdem commorantes). the officer who administered this formidable jurisdiction was the bailie of the regality, or 'justiciar chamberlain and bailie'--the bailiary had become virtually hereditary in the family of airlie.[433] ... the mair and the coroner of the abbey were the executors of the law within the bounds of the regality, and the best thought it no degradation to hold their lands as vassals of the great abbey."[434] the monks made a harbour and fixed a bell on the inchcape rock as a warning to sailors; the abbey was burnt in 1272 and 1380. referring to its chartulary as a record of the names of the old scottish families dr. cosmo innes says:- "many of our ancient families went down in the war of independence, and few of our present aristocracy trace back beyond the revolution of families and property which took place under bruce. the earls of angus, fife, and strathearn are little more than mythological personages to the modern genealogist.... it is the common case all over scotland."[435] in connection with the monks he has the following interesting note:- "it is to be remarked that in scotland, as in other countries, while the secular or parochial clergy were often the younger sons of good families, the convents of monk and friars were recruited wholly from the lower classes; and yet--not to speak of the daily bread, the freedom from daily care, all the vulgar temptations of such a life in hard times--the career of a monk opened no mean path to the ambitious spirit. the offices of the monastery alone might well seem prizes to be contended for by the son of the peasant or burgess, and the highest of these placed its holder on a level with the greatest of the nobility."[436] the last abbot was cardinal beaton, at the same time archbishop of st. andrews. the abbey suffered after the reformation from the revenues having become the property of the hamiltons, and as they were appropriated to the private use of that family, there were no funds to keep up the buildings, which fell gradually into decay, and were freely used by the magistrates and townspeople as a quarry. the property was converted into a temporal lordship in favour of lord claude hamilton, third son of the duke of chatelherault. in sketching the history of this famous abbey, the "aberbrothock manifesto" of 1320 must be recalled, in which it becomes manifest that the scottish church was never a complaisant vassal of rome.[437] there breathes in it a spirit of freedom and natural independence, and a refusal to accept the interference of rome in the affairs of the state. the scottish nobles protest against the papal countenance given to the english aggressions, and distinctly tell pope john xxii. that "not for glory, riches, or honour we fight, but for _liberty alone_, which no good man loses but with his life."[438] the abbey church consisted of a choir of three bays, with side aisles and an aisleless presbytery; a nave of nine bays, with aisles and north and south transepts with eastern aisles; two western towers and one large central tower. considerable portions of these divisions still remain, but the greater part of the north side of the choir, the north transept and nave, and almost all the piers and pillars have been swept away. beginning at the east end, the eastern wall is entire for nearly half its height, having an arcade below and three lancet windows above, with the lower portions of an upper row of similar windows. somewhat less of the return wall of the south side of the presbytery, comprising two bays, remains, and adjoining it is the sacristy, a late building fairly well preserved. the end wall of the south transept is almost complete, along with a considerable portion of the west wall of the transept, which gives a good idea of the grandeur of the church. the whole of the nave south wall remains, showing a row of windows and indications of the groining of the aisle. the central aisle was not vaulted, but covered with a wooden roof. most of the bases of the nave pillars are in position, as are also the foundations of the north transept. the west end fragment and the two towers left standing, are striking and impressive in their vigorous work.[439] bold, vigorous work, with refinement of detail, is seen in the western doorway. it is round arched, and its outer order, if it may be so called, extends inwards for about five feet, unadorned as a bold and plain tunnel arch, having a pointed arch in each ingoing. it then becomes shafted and richly moulded, after the transition manner. this arrangement, while it gives a fine shadow under the arch, has a feeling of rudeness, which, to a considerable extent, characterises the whole west front. "there is a remarkable resemblance in the decoration of this doorway to that of the doorway in the porch of lerida cathedral, spain, supposing the tunnel arch of arbroath away, and the moulded part brought forward to the face of the wall, as is the case at lerida.... a similar ring ornament, on a large scale, is also to be seen in a doorway at lamington, lanarkshire, where it is likewise used along with the zig-zag, but there the ringed order is the outer enrichment."[440] the removal of the outer part of a gallery, which existed over this doorway, has increased the rude appearance of the west front, but the inner part of this gallery still remains. within the great thickness of the wall a chamber of considerable size was obtained, and it opens into the nave by six pointed arches, and to the outside over the doorway by three arches. it is regarded as obvious that three gablets projected outwards from the wall for a distance of about four feet, supported on two intermediate shafts, and that the gallery was closed in at each end with walls or haffits, both of which still remain in part. we now see the west front robbed of its most unique features; the gallery was reached by a long passage at each end from stairs in the angle-buttresses. it probably was a gallery for an orchestra, and may have also been used as a pulpit to address an open-air audience.[441] above this gallery was an immense circular window, a portion of which still survives. "it is probable that this part of the building was erected at two different times, the west doorway and some of the pillars of the gallery being in the early transition style, while the triple windows to the front and the six-light arcade towards the interior are in the first pointed style. when the gallery was completed in the first pointed period, the floor space was enlarged by extending it to the front, hence the necessity for the deep tunnel arch over the west doorway. the pointed arches in the ingoing also indicate this first pointed period."[442] the western towers opened with arches into the north, south, and central aisles, but only the north tower retains its massive pier and arches, while of the south tower nothing but the foundation of the pier exists. the south wall of the transept is externally plain, the upper part being visible above the dormitory roof. the façade has two plain lancet windows, one shorter than the other, and above them is a large wheel window. the interior of the transept is a very grand design in the early pointed style.[443] beneath the splayed lancets there is a round arched open arcade, with a passage behind it, and beneath this, two tiers of wall arcades with pointed arches, the central arcade being very acutely pointed, the lower one not so decidedly, and with trefoil cusps in the arches. a staircase in the s.e. angle of the transept gave access to the dormitory by the door, seen built up on the outside.[444] this staircase also leads to the various passages in the thickness of the walls, and the church doorway leading to this stair is round arched and ranges with the lower pointed arcade. the lower arcade of the south end is continued along the west wall, and above this rise two widely-splayed windows. all the lofty south transept windows have passages on two floors, and the transepts had chapels on the east side. "the respond of the great arcade against the south wall is beautiful in detail. above this there exist fragments of the responds of the triforium story and the clerestory. all the above features of this part of the abbey point plainly to its having some lingering remains of transition style, retaining, as it does, some round arches along with the general features of the design."[445] the vestry or sacristy was built by abbot walter painter between 1411 and 1433, and is a two-storied building, the ground floor having a groined ceiling, still entire, and the upper room being roofless. its features are of fifteenth-century work, and the building is in good preservation. only fragments of the conventual buildings remain. "an octagonal turret marks the south-east corner of the chapter-house with the south and east return walls, and adjoining the south transept is the slype, the walls of which determine the other walls of the chapter-house. on the wall of the south transept is clearly seen the mark of the dormitory roof, with the door between the church and dormitory now built up."[446] the north wall and a portion of the west wall proceeding southward from it are all that remain of the extensive enclosure of the abbey. the enclosure was said to have been of great height and to have extended 1150 feet on the east and west, 760 feet on the north, and 480 feet on the south. there were great towers at the angles and entrance gateways on the north and at the south-east angle. in the centre of the north wall is the portcullis entrance gatehouse. the front wall is almost entire, and the upper floor window is crossed by the corbels which carried the movable wooden hoarding that was erected over the gateway when required for its defence.[447] at the western extremity of the north enclosing wall there is a large square tower, three stories in height in the inside, and four stories on the outside, owing to the fall of the ground. the two lower floors are round-vaulted, and the cape-house on top is said to have been removed during this century.[448] the building adjoining the tower to the east was called the regality court-house, and had a groined ceiling. the abbot's house is on the south side of the cloister, and is the best preserved abbot's house in scotland. it is three stories high, and the two upper floors have been converted into a modern private dwelling-house. it has been altered externally and spoiled of its ancient internal fittings, with the exception of two fine carved panels, one representing the virgin, and the other a large scotch thistle. the kitchen has central pillars supporting a groined roof,[449] and the other offices connected with the kitchen are all vaulted. the abbey suffered from fire in 1272 and in 1380, while in 1350 it was injured "from the frequent assaults of the english ships."[450] service was up to 1590 conducted in the lady chapel "stripped of its altars and images." _melrose abbey (roxburghshire)._--the editor of the _liber de melros_ has said in reference to this abbey:- "the incidental mention of the condition of the abbey itself at different times strongly illustrates the history of the district and the age. at one time powerful and prosperous, accumulating property, procuring privileges, commanding the support of the most powerful, and proudly contending against the slightest encroachment; at another, impoverished and ruined by continual wars, obliged to seek protection from the foreign invader: in either situation it reflects back faithfully the political condition of the country. but the political events of a country of so narrow bounds and small resources as scotland are insignificant unless they are associated with the development of principles and feelings that know no limits of place or power. how rich scotland has been in such associations is testified by the general sympathy which attends her history and her literature, and gives a pride to her children that forms not the weakest safeguard of their virtue. it is in recalling freshly the memory of times in which the proud and virtuous character of her people was formed, and which it is their delight and their duty to look back upon, that such studies as the present are most useful. every local association, every faint illustration of antiquity, each indication of the bygone manners of a simple age, are in this view to be treasured, not only as filling a page of a meagre history, but as so many moral ties to bind us closer in affection to the country of our fathers."[451] this abbey has a charming site in the hill-girt hollow known as the vale of melrose, occupying one of those peaceful situations near a river which the cistercians delighted to choose and colonise. an ancient monastery of melrose had existed since the seventh century, on a broad meadow nearly surrounded by a "loop" of the tweed, about 2-1/2 miles lower down the river. it was established about 650 by st. aidan, the missionary from iona, who preached in northumbria, and founded the abbey of lindisfarne. eata was the first abbot we hear of, and he was a disciple of st. aidan. st. cuthbert spent much of his early life at this monastery of old melrose, and afterwards chose as the scene of his labours hexham and lindisfarne. the monks of lindisfarne, when expelled by the danes, took refuge at melrose, and brought with them st. cuthbert's body, which afterwards found its resting-place at durham. in the eleventh century this old monastery of melrose had become a ruined and desolate place. it afterwards became the retreat of a few monks, amongst whom was the celebrated turgot, the confessor of queen margaret. a chapel was erected and dedicated to st. cuthbert, which at first belonged to coldingham, but was gifted finally by david i. to the new abbey of melrose. this abbey was founded in 1136 at a place then called fordell, and was endowed by david i. and his nobles with extensive lands. the monks were of the cistercian order, and were brought from rievalle in yorkshire. the original buildings were not finished till 1146, and on the 28th of july in that year the church was solemnly consecrated and dedicated to the virgin mary. it is thought that such buildings with an oratory were probably the residence of the monks, and their period would suggest the norman style, like that of the abbeys of kelso, jedburgh, and dryburgh. every trace of these early buildings has disappeared, and, situated as it was on the border-country, melrose abbey was exposed to danger, and frequently suffered in the wars between the two countries. it was in the chapter-house at melrose that the yorkshire barons united against king john and swore fealty to alexander ii. in 1215. in 1295 edward i. gave formal protection to its monks, and in 1296 he issued a writ ordering a restitution to them of all the property they had lost in the preceding struggle. in 1321 or 1322 the original structure was destroyed by the english under edward ii., and the abbot, with a number of the monks, was killed. in 1326 robert i. gave a grant of £2000 to be applied to the rebuilding of the church, and in 1329, a few months before his death, he wrote a letter to his son david, requesting that his heart should be buried at melrose and commending the monastery and the church to his successor's favour. his wish was granted, and so late as 1369 we hear of king david ii. renewing his father's gift, and it is to this grant we owe a considerable part of the present building. in 1328 edward iii. ordered the restoration to the abbey of pensions and lands which it had held in england, and which had been seized by edward ii. in 1334 the same king granted a protection to melrose in common with the other border abbeys, and in 1341 he came to melrose to spend christmas. in 1385 richard ii., exasperated by his fruitless expedition into scotland, spent a night in the abbey and caused it to be burned. notwithstanding these disasters, the abbey increased in wealth and architectural splendour, and it was not till more severe damage and dilapidations befell it during the reigns of henry viii., edward vi. and elizabeth, that ruin began finally to impend. the approach of the reformation influenced its downfall, and though donations for rebuilding were given by various individuals, the abbey never recovered the damage then suffered. in 1541 james v. obtained from the pope the abbeys of melrose and kelso, to be held _in commendam_ by his illegitimate son james, who died in 1558. in 1560 all the "abbacie" was annexed to the crown, and in 1566 mary granted the lands to james, earl of bothwell, with the title of commendator. after passing through the hands of douglas of lochleven and sir john ramsay, the estates were ultimately acquired by the scotts of buccleuch. the abbey gradually fell into decay through neglect. the materials were used for the erection of other structures, and douglas built from the ruins a house which still stands to the north of the cloisters and bears the date 1590. the masonry also formed a quarry for the neighbourhood, and in 1618 the remaining portion of the structure was fitted up as the parish church, "and in order to render it secure, a plain pointed barrel vault was thrown across the nave, and was supported by plain square piers built against the old piers on the north side. the original vaulting seems to have been previously demolished."[452] a great number of the stone images of saints which filled the numerous wall niches were left untouched till 1649, when they were almost all cast down and destroyed, but by whose order is unknown. of the abbey there now only remain the ruins of the church, and of it the most competent authorities say:- "no building in scotland affords such an extensive and almost inexhaustible field for minute investigation and enjoyment of detail such as this. whether we consider the great variety of the beautifully sculptured figures of monks and angels playing on musical instruments, or displaying 'the scrolls which teach us to live and die,' or turn to the elaborate canopies and beautiful pinnacles of the buttresses, or examine the rich variety of foliage and other sculptures on the capitals of the nave and the doorway and arches of the cloisters; or if, again, we take a more general view of the different parts of the edifice from the numerous fine standpoints from which it can be so advantageously contemplated, we know of no scottish building which surpasses melrose either in the picturesqueness of its general aspect or in the profusion or value of its details. it occupies an important position also historically, and it in part supplies an admirable example of that decorated architecture, the existence of which in this country has been so often denied, but of which, we trust, a sufficient number of examples are now provided to render that reproach to scottish architecture no longer justifiable. we have to thank the fine red sandstone of the district, of which the church is built, for the perfect preservation of all the details of the structure. these remain, even in the minutest carving, as perfect and complete as the day they were executed."[453] the cloister and domestic buildings, including the hall of abbot matthew, were situated on the _north_ side of the church. they have now entirely disappeared, leaving only a portion of the cloister which indicates their position. the church is cruciform, and the choir is unusually short and the nave unusually long. the aisled choir extends only two bays eastwards from the crossing, beyond which point the presbytery is carried one bay farther, without aisles, and is lighted by large north and south windows as well as by the great eastern window. the shortness of the choir rendered it necessary that part of the nave should be appropriated for the monks, and the enclosing screen wall of this portion of the "choir" extended to the fourth pier west from the crossing, where it was carried across the nave and formed the rood screen. the screen was wide and contained a gallery, on the top of which stood the rood.[454] the nave extends to eight bays, but it has been intended to be longer--the west end being incomplete. extending southwards, beyond the south aisle, is a series of eight chapels, which produced externally, along with the south aisle, the appearance of a double aisle.[455] the north aisle is narrower than the south aisle, and the position of the cloister may have hampered the design. this difference may have arisen from the plan of the original abbey of the twelfth century being adhered to in the later construction.[456] the transepts contain the usual eastern aisle only, in which are situated four chapels. the superstructure of the church has severely suffered and the western part is greatly demolished. the portion eastwards from the rood screen is in better preservation. the vaulting of the aisles is well-preserved, but that of the centre aisle is demolished--a pointed tunnel vault having been constructed in 1618. the eight chapels are well preserved, but some parts of the three furthest west ones are damaged and have lost their vaulting. the tracery in the chapel windows is lovely; the vaulting of the nave, south aisle and chapels, is supported by a series of flying buttresses, "which form one of the most prominent and beautiful elements of the building. no church in scotland retains such a striking example of that important feature of gothic architecture."[457] the eastern piers of the crossing were demolished probably in henry viii.'s time, and their destruction entailed that of the central tower, of which the western wall only remains. the transepts have suffered by the fall of the tower, but fortunately the south wall of the transept with its finely decorated window is still preserved. from the south transept access is obtained to the roof of the nave aisle and to the uppermost parts of the structure by a turnpike stair, which also forms the only mode of approach to the tower.[458] "the choir, so far as the east is concerned, is well preserved, the buttresses and gable, the celebrated eastern window, and the remarkable vaulting of the presbytery being all in good order. the remainder of the choir, however, has been greatly wrecked by the fall of the central tower; but many of the windows of the choir and transept with their perpendicular tracery have escaped destruction, and afford the best example in scotland of that form of design."[459] the building, as it now stands, is, generally speaking,[460] of a date subsequent to bruce's time, and much of it is later than the destruction which occurred under richard ii. in 1385.[461] "the nave, from the crossing to the rood loft, and part of the transepts are, undoubtedly, the oldest portions of the existing edifice. the work in these is, for the most part, of the scottish decorated period. the nave piers, with their beautifully carved caps, and the mouldings of the arches are distinctly decorated work; and the flying buttresses and pinnacles on the south side of the nave are, without doubt, of the same period. so also is the south wall of the transept, with its magnificent window and tracery and its buttresses, enriched with fine canopies and quaint figures carved as corbels. "all these features bear a close affinity to the decorated work of the nave of york minster, erected about 1400. the flying buttresses, with pinnacles enriched with crockets and foliaged finials; the niches, with their elaborate canopies and corbels composed of figures of monks and angels; the statues which formerly filled the niches, of which very few now remain; the decorated tracery of the south transept window, and the whole character of the work, both in its general scope and in its details, is of fine decorated design, and vividly recalls that of york, beverley, and other english examples. it is not improbable that some parts of the nave and transept were erected during the period between the death of king robert bruce and the invasion of richard ii. it should be mentioned that bruce's bequest was not all received till 1399, and the operations also probably proceeded slowly. the doorway in the south wall of the south transept is apparently an insertion in older work."[462] the south chapels of the nave have apparently been added during the repairs in the earlier part of the fifteenth century; the buttresses were probably executed towards the middle of that century, and the east one contains the arms of abbot hunter.[463] there is a distinct change in the transept's design from that of the nave, as if the former had been added to the latter at a later period.[464] the east wall and the other eastern parts of the choir are more recent than the nave, and probably this portion of the church had been more damaged by richard ii. than the nave, and required to be almost wholly rebuilt. the style here corresponds closely with the "perpendicular" of england which prevailed in the fifteenth century.[465] the great eastern window is exceptional and unique, and has more of the character of perpendicular than any other style. scott, referring to it, has described the moon as shining through slender shafts of shapely stone, by foliaged tracery combined; thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand, twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, in many a freakish knot, had twined; then framed a spell, when the work was done, and changed the willow-wreaths to stone. the design of the west wall of the north transept is different from that of the other parts of the building, but the clerestory windows are of the same design as the rest of the older church. "the wall ribs of the vaulting include two windows in each; and the space between the windows is occupied by two niches, each carried up from a shaft--with late canopies, containing statues of st. peter and st. paul, the former having the keys and the latter holding his sword. these are the best preserved statues in the church, but they are not of very remarkable workmanship."[466] the building or restoration of the eastern part of the edifice is regarded as indicating, from its style, work of the middle of the fifteenth century, and the vaulting of the south transept appears to have been erected by abbot hunter about the same time,[467] probably from 1450 to 1460. more of the vaulting in the eastern part of the nave may have been carried out at that epoch. the vaults all contain, besides the main and ridge ribs, subsidiary ribs, or tiercerons, indicating a similarity to english examples.[468] the vaulting of the presbytery is peculiar, and points to a somewhat later time; examples of vaulting similar to that of the presbytery of melrose may be seen at winchester cathedral, and other english examples of the fifteenth century.[469] the south chapels to the west of the fifth buttress west from the transept, on which buttress another specimen of abbot hunter's arms is engraved, are of comparatively late date.[470] "this buttress belongs to the earlier part of the nave, and the chapel seems to have been repaired when the additional chapels to the west were erected. besides the three hunting horns in the shield of abbot hunter in the examples above mentioned, the arms engraved on the fifth buttress contain two crosiers, saltierwise, and the initials a. h. on the right and left; also, in chief a rose, and in base a mason's mell for melrose. the work in the chapels to the west is inferior to that of those to the eastward, although copied from them. the chapels each contain an enriched piscina, and these are so inferior in style of workmanship as to lead to the belief that they were inserted after the chapels were built. one of them contains the initials of abbot william turnbull, whose date is the beginning of the sixteenth century. a late piscina has also been inserted in the south transept. "work in the nave and in the south chapels was apparently in progress during the reign of james iv., as the royal arms, with the letters i. q. (jacobus quartus) and the date 1505 on the westmost buttress testify."[471] on the south side of the cloister is a very lovely doorway that leads into the church. to the right of this and along the east wall of the cloister, are arched recesses of a late style, and in the south wall is an arcade of trefoil form, with nail-head enrichments. the latter is an example of the late revival of early forms which prevailed towards the close of the gothic epoch.[472] it has been stated that the arcade of the cloister formerly extended 150 feet each way. the cloister wall is now reduced to the portions which abut against the nave and transept--50 feet on the east side and 80 feet on the south side. "the former side contains a wall arcade of seven arches. these are of the form called drop arches, with crocketed ogee hood moulding, and have plain spandrils above, over which there runs a straight cornice, enriched with flowers and shells of all descriptions very beautifully carved."[473] of these sir walter scott said:- nor herb nor floweret glistened there but was carved in the cloister arches as fair. the tower was doubtless erected about the same time as the transept.[474] in the south transept are two inscriptions that have given rise to much speculation and continue to exercise border antiquaries. one of these is carved over the doorway in the west wall which gives access to the wheel stair, and part of the inscription is carried down one side for want of room. it is the following:- sa gays the cumpas evyn about, sa trouth and laute. do but duite. behald to ye hende q. johne morvo.[475] the other inscription is carved on a tablet in the wall on the south side of the same door:- john morow sum tym callit was i and born in parysse certanly and had in kepyng al masoun werk of santandroys ye hye kyrk of glasgw melros and paslay of nyddysdayll and of galway i pray to god and mari bath and sweet s. john kep this haly kirk frae skaith. in the centre of the former inscription is a sunk panel containing a shield with two masons' compasses, arranged somewhat like a saltier, and beneath a figure resembling a _fleur-de-lys_. the late dr. john smith, in the _proceedings of the antiquarian society of scotland_, considers these inscriptions as applying to one man, who may have been the master mason of the building. but mr. pinches, in his account of the abbey, mentions that john murdo, or morow, was engaged in building a church in galloway in 1508. it thus seems likely that these inscriptions are not earlier than that date, and have been added to the building after its completion.[476] an interesting view regarding john morow will be found in _a mediæval architect_, by mr. p. macgregor chalmers. he believes that the south chapel of the transept was that of st. john, and as john morrow's tablet is opposite this chapel, his prayer to "sweet st. john" is most appropriate. mr. chalmers also points out that the chapels at the east end of glasgow cathedral are dedicated to the same saints and in the same order as those in the east aisle of the transept at melrose.[477] immediately beneath the site of the high altar at melrose is the resting-place of the heart of robert bruce, and to the south of it is a dark-coloured polished slab of encrinital limestone said to mark the grave of alexander ii., who was buried near the high altar in 1249. others maintain, however, that it marks the burial-place of st. waltheof or waldeve, who was the second abbot of the monastery founded by king david, and that it is the slab placed here by ingram, bishop of glasgow (1164-1174). the chancel was also the burial-place of the douglases. the douglas tombs were all defaced by sir ralph evers in 1544. at the northern end of the north transept a small doorway leads into the sacristy, in which is the tombstone of johanna, queen of alexander ii., with the inscription "hic jacet johanna d. ross." melrose is the kennaquhair of the _abbot_ and the _monastery_. chapter vii general survey of scottish mediæval architecture mediæval architecture of scotland arranged according to the periods stated in chapter ii.:[478]-_transition from celtic to norman architecture_:--_abernethy round tower_, perthshire (p. 7). _restennet priory_, forfarshire (p. 7). _st. regulus, st. andrews_, fifeshire (p. 18). _norman architecture_:--_markinch tower_ (fifeshire). present church modern, early church consecrated 1243; the tower is an ancient norman building. _muthill church_ (perthshire), has norman tower at the west end, with nave having north and south aisles and an aisleless choir. the church is now in ruins, and was built by michael ochiltree, who was dean of dunblane (1425) and bishop (1430). _st. serf's, dunning_ (perthshire), has norman tower, with elaborately carved and pointed archway opening from the tower into the church, which has been greatly altered. the w. gable wall of the church and part of the n. and e. wall are original. there appears to have been a chancel; the ancient corbels at n. parapet survive, and the raggle of the original roof is seen against the e. side of the tower. church mentioned here in 1219 (ecclesia sancti servani de dunnyne). _cruggleton church_ (wigtownshire), in ruins; has early norman chancel arch and north doorway recently restored; the plan shows a simple oblong with chancel arch. _monymusk church_ (aberdeenshire), founded by malcolm canmore; remains of ancient norman church in lower part of the tower and chancel arch, incorporated in modern church on old site. ancient celtic centre. _st. brandon's, birnie_ (morayshire), has nave and chancel without aisles; chancel has no window in e. wall, but round-headed windows in n. and s. walls; chancel arch has semicircular attached shaft with moulded base and heavy norman cap, with numerous sub-divisions. advanced date. stone font of norman design, and celtic bell. _st. oran's chapel, iona_ (p. 65). _st. margaret's chapel, edinburgh castle_, comprises a nave with chancel arch and chancel, which has a round apse, formed within the square e. end of the exterior. the genuine surviving norman masonry begins below the line of the s. windows; rest later work. chancel has locker and piscina, chancel arch decorated with chevron design, nave arched roof is later than the walls. chapel is a fairly advanced example of norman work in plan and decoration. _dunfermline abbey_ (p. 139). _kirkwall cathedral_ (p. 69). _st. blane's church_ (bute) has oblong nave and chancel separated by lofty wall with chancel arch. norman masonry in nave and chancel arch. _dalmeny church_ (p. 102). _leuchars church_ (p. 104). _bunkle church_ (berwickshire) has norman work in ruined semicircular apse, with arch leading into it, and may be earlier than 12th century. _edrom church_ (berwickshire) has still surviving a norman doorway of beautiful design, now an entrance to a burial vault. an aisle is attached to the church, and was founded by archbishop blackadder in 1499; two angle buttresses are of interest. _legerwood_ (berwickshire) has attached to the parish church (old, but frequently repaired), and cut off by a wall, the roofless ruins of the original norman chancel. a celtic interlaced stone is built into the s. wall near the w. end. _chirnside_ (berwickshire) has norman work in the doorway of the ruined church, and at the sides there are remains of a projection, probably a porch. a western tower, vaulted in stone, was removed in 1750. _st. helen's church_ (berwickshire), near cockburnspath, now in ruins, was a norman structure, with the exception of the w. gable wall (14th or 15th century). it was barrel-vaulted throughout, and the n. chancel wall is entire. there is a narrow e. window. _tyninghame church_ (haddingtonshire) was one of the churches dedicated to st. baldred; the structural remains exhibit elaborate ornamental work of the norman style. _stobo church_ (peeblesshire) is a norman structure, to which alterations and additions have been made in the 16th and 17th centuries. it was the church of a plebania, with subordinate churches. _duddingston_ (mid-lothian) is a norman edifice, used since 12th century as the parish church. it has been much altered, originally consisting of nave, chancel, and perhaps tower, and the chancel arch is the only norman feature now remaining in the interior. _st. andrew's church, gullane_ (haddingtonshire), is now a roofless ruin, and was made collegiate in 1446. the semicircular chancel arch is almost the only part of the 12th century work now surviving. _uphall church_ and _st. nicholas church_ (linlithgowshire). uphall church, consisting of nave, chancel, western tower, is a norman structure throughout, much altered. when this became the parish church in the 16th century, st. nicholas (one mile east) was abandoned. two relics of it remain--the font, of which the basin is old, and the bell, now used in uphall church, and dated 1441. _abercorn_ (linlithgowshire). a church was founded here in 675 under st. wilfrid, and became the see of the earliest bishopric in scotland from 681 to 685. the monks were forced to retire to whitby, but the site was occupied by a church, and part of the existing structure (the round-headed doorway in s. wall) is of norman date. the tympanum is filled with stones arranged in zig-zag patterns. the church has been altered in modern times; there are good specimens in the churchyard of hog-backed tombstones, with figures of fish scale pattern arranged in rows, and scales of a squarer shape. _kelso abbey_ (p. 169). _st. martin's church_ (haddington) is a very ancient chapel; a simple oblong; portion of barrel vault still exists; choir formerly existed; the arch is late norman in design. _kirkliston church_, linlithgowshire, has ancient tower and norman doorways (s. and n.e.), and belonged originally to the knights hospitallers of st. john. _st. mary's, ratho_, mid-lothian, has norman work preserved in doorway in s.w. wall. _st. peter's, peterhead_, aberdeenshire, has chancel of norman period. _st. mary's, rutherglen_, lanarkshire, had a nave with side aisles and a chancel, but of the ancient church only a fragment now remains in the e. wall with eastern tower attached to it. the e. wall masonry indicates the norman period, and the eastern tower, although built against, had no connection with the church, while it is of later erection by two or three centuries. _lamington church_ (lanarkshire) has the old n. doorway still preserved. _st. boswell's church_, roxburghshire, has been entirely rebuilt, but has some relics of carved corbels and other fragments of norman date. _smailholm church_, roxburghshire, is distinctly a norman structure throughout its entire length, although greatly altered in the 17th century. _linton church_, roxburghshire, is old, but has been restored and renewed. there is a norman font, and a sculpture in the tympanum of the ancient church doorway may possibly represent st. george and the dragon, or faith overcoming evil. it was placed in 1858 over the entrance to a new porch then erected. _duns church_, berwickshire, had the chancel of the ancient structure existing until 1874, when it was removed, and not a stone now remains. its masonry, judged from a photograph, looks very like norman work. _st. lawrence church, lundie_, forfarshire, was a norman structure, of which little remains except the ashlar walls, a narrow window, and outside check for a shutter. the chancel arch was built up in 1786, when the apse appears to have been taken down; the top of a sacrament house of late date survives. _kirkmaiden church_, wigtownshire, has a nave that appears to be of norman date, and there is an apparent chancel at the east end, but its dimensions and origin are not distinct. _herdmanston font_, haddingtonshire, is a relic of the norman period, and stands in the burial vault of the sinclairs of herdmanston. _the transition style._--_dundrennan abbey_ (cistercian), kirkcudbrightshire, was founded by david i. about 1142. portions of n. and s. transepts, choir, chapter-house, some cellar walls and other walls, with a few carved caps now remain. queen mary was welcomed at the abbey after her flight from langside, and embarked for england from port mary, at the mouth of the abbey burn. _jedburgh abbey_ (p. 129). _kinloss abbey_ (cistercian), morayshire, was founded by david i. in 1150, and colonised from melrose. the enlightened robert reid, founder of the college of edinburgh, was its abbot in 1528. till 1650 the buildings were tolerably entire, and were then used to construct cromwell's citadel at inverness. the remains are now mere fragments. _the nunnery_, iona (p. 68). _st. nicholas church, aberdeen_ (p. 78). _coldingham priory_ (benedictine), berwickshire, was founded or refounded in 1098 by edgar, son of queen margaret, and dedicated to st. cuthbert, s.s. mary and ebba. the canons of durham controlled it until 1504, and in 1509 it was placed under the rule of dunfermline. it suffered both from fire and its nearness to the border; it was also damaged by cromwell, and was afterwards used as a quarry. little of the monastery now remains, and of the church only the n. and e. walls of the choir and fragments of the s. transept. in 1662 the w. and s. walls of the choir were rebuilt to make that part of the edifice suitable for worship, and in 1854-55 the choir was restored, its w. and s. walls being again partly rebuilt, s. porch added, and the corner turrets carried up to their present height. stones are preserved of an earlier church than the existing one. _dryburgh abbey_ (p. 134). _airth church_ (stirlingshire) dates from the period about the beginning of the 13th century, but only a small part of the early structure remains--a bay of what has been a nave arcade, opening into a north aisle. _lasswade church_, mid-lothian, had an old church, consisting of oblong chamber and tower. the s. wall doorway and tower reveal transition work about first half of 13th century. _bathgate church_, linlithgowshire, is now a ruin, being abandoned in 1739 for a new church. the doorway is almost the only feature of its architecture left, and its details are of transitional period. in the church is a recumbent statue. _first pointed period._--_st. andrews cathedral and priory_ (pp. 13, 123); _st. mary's, kirkheugh, st. andrews_ (p. 102); _arbroath abbey_ (p. 177); _holyrood abbey_ (p. 124). _kilwinning abbey_ (tironensian), ayrshire, was erected on a site occupied in the 8th century by an irish monk called st. winnan, who is believed to be the same as st. finnan of moville. on the spot sanctified by his cell the monastery was erected in the 12th century by richard or hugh moville, who came from england, was created by the scottish king great constable of the kingdom and presented with the lordships of cuninghame, largs, and lauderdale. the church was erected early in 13th century. the buildings were destroyed shortly after the reformation, and the parish church was erected on the site of the choir about 1775. the ruins consist of s. wall and gable of s. transept, one pier with respond and arch between s. transept and e. aisle; handsome door which led from nave to cloisters; entrance to the chapter-house from cloisters; long ancient wall which formed the wall of s. aisle of nave; some portions of w. end of nave and s.w. tower. the n. tower remained complete till this century, and a new tower has in recent times been erected on its site. _dunblane cathedral_ (p. 47). _inchmahome priory_ (augustinian), stirlingshire, was founded and endowed by walter comyn, fourth earl of menteith, and the church, which has striking resemblances in detail to the neighbouring cathedral of dunblane, evidently dates about 1250. inchmahome means isle of rest, and the church is fairly well preserved. in 1543 queen mary, as a child, found refuge here along with her mother after the battle of pinkie, and stayed for some months. dr. john brown has charmingly written about the young queen's miniature or child's garden--a small flower plot, the boxwood edging of which has grown up into a thick shrubbery. _elgin cathedral_ (p. 40). _pluscarden priory_ (valliscaulian), morayshire, was, along with beauly and ardchattan, founded by alexander ii. for the order of vallis caulium. pluscarden is situated in a long, well-sheltered valley. about 1460, when the monks had become corrupt, they were superseded by the black benedictine monks from dunfermline, and the priory became dependent on that house. the last prior was alexander dunbar, and the first lay prior lord seton. the existing buildings consist chiefly of the remains of the church--an aisleless choir n. and s. transepts with eastern aisles, and square tower. there is no nave. the monastic buildings consist of the sacristy, or st. mary's aisle, the chapter-house, the slype, and monks' hall--the whole forming the e. side of the cloisters. to the s.e. of cloister garth is probably the prior's house. the oldest parts are transepts with eastern aisles, built doubtless soon after the foundation. _glasgow cathedral_ (p. 22). _brechin cathedral_ (p. 44). _lindores abbey_ (tironensian), fifeshire, was founded in 1178 by david, earl of huntingdon, grandson of david i., and brother of king william the lion. the church of dundee belonged to the monks of lindores, and the name lindores is believed to mean "church by the water." alexander iii., wallace, edward i., david ii. visited the abbey, and the duke of rothesay was buried in the church. james, earl of douglas, passed the last years of his life here. two small coffins, found buried in the choir, are believed to have contained the remains of two children of earl david, the founder. the buildings, entering from the e. side of the cloister, are the best preserved, and of the church little but the foundations and some portions of the wall survive. adjoining s. transept is the vaulted slype, and the room over it may have been the scriptorium or library. the night passage of the monks led through that apartment, as the stair was in s.w. angle of transept, and could only be thus reached. _cambuskenneth abbey_ (augustinian), stirlingshire, was founded by david i. about 1147. james iii. and his queen, margaret of denmark, were interred before the high altar, and a stone altar monument has been erected over their remains by queen victoria. the detached tower at the w. is almost the only part remaining in a completed state; the w. doorway is nearly entire, as is also portion of gable wall and side walls at s.e. corner of the buildings. _culross abbey_ (cistercian) and _parish church_, perthshire. the abbey was founded in 1217 by malcolm, earl of fife, and considerable remains of that period, and some walls of what might be of earlier date, still survive, but principal parts of existing church are of later date. a few fragments of the monastic structure survive. the tower divides the e. from the w. church. the aisleless choir serves as parish church. the old parish church is a ruinous structure, about one mile n.w. from the abbey; plain oblong; in 1633 the abbey became the parish church. _beauly priory_ (valliscaulian), inverness-shire, was founded in 1230 and endowed by sir john bisset of lovat. the ruined church survives, but has been sadly abused. monastic buildings have nearly disappeared. first pointed was later here than elsewhere. _newbattle or newbotle abbey_ (cistercian), mid-lothian, was founded by david i. in 1140 for monks brought from melrose. it was a great house, and about 1350 its annual income could maintain eighty monks and seventy lay brethren, with the corresponding establishment. the last abbot was mark ker, and the lordship of newbotle was conferred on his son. the abbey appears to have been almost abolished shortly after the reformation, the only parts of the monastic buildings allowed to remain being the fratery and portions of the chapter-house, which were incorporated with the mansion-house. the nave of the church contained 10 bays; the choir and presbytery comprised 1-1/2 bay. the piers supported a tower over the crossing, and the architecture of the transepts was massive. _lismore cathedral_ (p. 59). _st. kentigern's_, lanark, was ancient parish church; abandoned for new one about 1777. it consisted of two six-bayed aisles, each with a chancel, but without a nave; there remain the lofty pointed arches dividing the two aisles, the wall of the s. one, and a fragment of the chancels. in the s. wall is a beautiful doorway. _burntisland church_, fifeshire, _prestonkirk_, haddingtonshire, _cowie_, aberdeenshire, also illustrate in whole or part this period. _deer abbey_ (cistercian), aberdeenshire, was founded in 1218, and succeeded a church founded in 580 by st. columba and his nephew drostan. the conventual buildings now existing are subsequent in date to the founding of the abbey church (completed first), and this may account for the abbot demitting office in 1267, "choosing rather to live in the sweet converse of his brethren at melrose than to govern an unworthy flock under the lowly roofs of deir." _luffness monastery, redfriars_, haddingtonshire, was founded by patrick, earl of dunbar, in 1286. the church consisted of nave and choir, without aisles; the choir has arched recess and much-worn effigy. the remains consist mostly of foundations. _tungland abbey_ (premonstratensian), kirkcudbrightshire, was founded by fergus, first lord of galloway, in 12th century, and is now represented by only one doorway. _inchcolm abbey_ (augustinian), fifeshire, was founded in 1123 by alexander i., who had been driven ashore on the island by a storm, and was maintained with his followers for three days by a hermit who made inchcolm his retreat. there is still a small cell covered with a pointed barrel vault, which may have been his abode. the island was the cradle of religion in e. scotland, and may have been visited by st. columba himself. like inchkeith, the bass, isle of may, and fidra, it possesses early ecclesiastical remains. the island, like iona, was celebrated as a place of burial. the monastic buildings date from 1216 chiefly; walter bower continued the scotichronicon in the abbey. the ruins consist of the cloister court with church on n. side, and chapter-house beyond e. range. to the n. of the church was possibly the infirmary. the s.e. has cellars, stores, and offices. first pointed work is also found at the churches of _deer_; _auchindoir_; _st. cuthbert's, monkton_; _st. nicholas, prestwick_; _altyre_; _st. mary's, rattray_; _abdie_; _st. ninian's on the isle_; _st. colmanel's, buittle_; _cockpen_; _pencaitland_; _gogar font_. _middle pointed or decorated architecture._--_new abbey_ or _sweetheart abbey_ (cistercian), kirkcudbrightshire, was dedicated to the virgin. it was called new abbey because it was founded a considerable time after dundrennan, which was regarded as the old abbey. the founder was devorgilla, daughter of allan, lord of galloway, wife of john baliol of castle barnard in yorkshire, and mother of king john baliol. when her husband died in 1269, devorgilla had his heart embalmed and placed in an ivory coffin, which she carried about with her; at her death it was buried with her in a grave in front of the abbey high altar, hence the touching name of sweetheart abbey. she endowed the abbey, founded balliol college, oxford, and built the bridge over the nith at dumfries, portions of which still survive. the abbey suffered much last century, but it has since been well cared for, and is in good preservation. few of our ancient churches are so well preserved, and the ruins represent a period of scottish gothic of which not many examples survive. the conventual buildings have been almost entirely demolished, but the church is complete, although the roof is gone, and the walls are much damaged. it comprises a nave with two side aisles, a choir without aisles, n. and s. transepts (with eastern chapels opening off them), and a square tower over the crossing. the precinct--a level field of about 20 acres--surrounds the abbey, and is still partly enclosed with a strong wall, built with large blocks of granite. _melrose abbey_ (p. 184). _lincluden college_, kirkcudbrightshire, was founded anew about the end of the 14th century by archibald, the grim, who expelled the nuns. it was a frequent residence of the earls of douglas, and consisted of choir separated from nave and transept by stone screen with wide doorway. the choir is aisleless, consisting of three bays; the nave had three bays with a window in each, and aisle on s. side. the architecture is of great beauty. _fortrose cathedral_ (p. 52). _crossraguel abbey_ (cluniac), ayrshire, was founded by the earl of carrick and dedicated to st. mary. the last abbot, quentin kennedy, in 1562 held a famous dispute with john knox at maybole. the abbey was much associated with the bruces. in 1570 occurred the cruel "roasting of the abbot." george buchanan received a pension out of the abbey revenues, and king james intended to restore it as a residence for his son henry. the abbey ruins comprise, with the remains of the church, cloisters, and usual buildings, an outer court to the s.w. with picturesque gate-house, pigeon-house, and domestic buildings. the church is a simple oblong with choir and nave, without aisles and transepts. _st. giles'_, edinburgh (p. 89). _st. michael's_, linlithgow (p. 105). _st. monans_, fifeshire, derives its name from st. monanus, a missionary of the 8th century, who suffered martyrdom by the danes on the isle of may. the original chapel was replaced about 1362 by the present edifice, which suffered much at the hands of the english, and has been altered. it consists of chancel, n. and s. transepts, with tower and spire over the crossing, and is still used as the parish church. it is picturesque and interesting. _whithorn priory_ (p. 56). _st. mary's_, haddington (p. 107). _fearn abbey_ (premonstratensian), ross-shire, was founded during the reign of alexander ii. of it there now only remain a part of the church, and the ruins of some structures attached to it. the church is a simple oblong, and part of it is still used as the parish church. _balmerino abbey_ (cistercian), fifeshire, was founded in 1229 by ermengard, widow of william the lion, and her son alexander ii. ermengard was buried in the church before the high altar; she was a liberal benefactress, and her son was a frequent visitor at balmerino. bishop leslie ascribes the demolition of the abbey in 1559 to "certain most worthless men of the common people," for the damage of 1547, when admiral wyndham "bornt the abbey with all thyngs that were in it," seems to have been much repaired. the abbey buildings are now in a ruinous state, only the chapter-house, with the erections adjoining it, being at all well preserved. to the e. of the chapter-house are the ruins of the abbot's house. the church is situated, as the mother church at melrose, on the s. of the cloister, and consisted of nave with s. aisle, transepts with the usual eastern aisle, and short presbytery without aisles. _st. bride's college_, bothwell (p. 77). _temple church_, mid-lothian; _the chapel in rothesay castle_; _st. bride's_, douglas, lanarkshire; _st. duthus'_, tain, ross-shire; _st. peter's_, inverkeithing, fife; _st. devenic's_, creich, fife; _faslane church_, argyleshire; _the monument of sir w. olifurd_, aberdalgie, perthshire, also embody architecture of this period. _third or late pointed period._--_paisley abbey_ (p. 148). _dunkeld cathedral_ (p. 35). _iona cathedral_ (p. 60). _st. machar's cathedral_ (p. 37). _trinity college church_, edinburgh, was situated on the w. side of leith wynd, and founded by mary of gueldres, queen of james ii., in 1462. it was a very fine specimen of scottish gothic architecture of the 15th century, and consisted of a choir with n. and s. aisles, a five-sided apse, n. and s. transepts, with the commencement of a tower over the crossing and n. sacristy. the nave was never erected--the arch having a circular window inserted in it. it was the church of trinity college parish till 1848, when it was removed to make way for the railway station. the new church is in many details an exact reproduction of the corresponding features of the original building. _st. john's, perth_ (p. 108). _dundee church_ (p. 113). _glenluce abbey_ (cistercian), wigtownshire, was founded in 1190 by roland, lord of galloway; the chapter-house is the only portion of the abbey in good preservation. _torphichen church_, linlithgowshire, represents the hospital or preceptory of torphichen, from 1153 the principal scottish residence of the knights of st. john of jerusalem. of the cruciform church, the chancel and nave are entirely gone, and there is only left a portion of the transept or "quier." the modern church is on the site of the nave. _st. anthony's chapel, edinburgh_--"sanct antonis in the crag"--stands conspicuous from the firth of forth, and was perhaps chosen with the intention of attracting the notice of seamen coming up the firth, who, in cases of danger, might be induced to make vows to its tutelary saint. there is a fine spring of clear water close to the site, which may have led to the establishment of the hermitage there. wall remains survive. _rosslyn church_ (p. 85). _dunglass collegiate church_, haddingtonshire, is cruciform, and a deserted but complete edifice. the choir and tower may have been built in 1403, the nave after 1450. it was founded by sir alexander home of home. _foulis-easter church_, perthshire, is a simple, oblong structure without buttresses or projections of any kind; is well preserved and most interesting. it was built by andrew, second lord gray. _st. salvador's, st. andrews_ (p. 102). _dalkeith church_ (mid-lothian) was constituted collegiate in the 15th century, and consists of a nave of three bays with aisles, n. and s. transepts, a w. tower, and aisleless choir of three bays with e. apse. part is used as the parish church. _st. mungo's, borthwick_ (mid-lothian) has been rebuilt, with the exception of the s. aisle or chapel, and the structure has originally been a norman one, with aisleless nave, choir, and round e. apse. _ladykirk, berwickshire_, is very complete and almost unaltered. it is situated on the high n. bank of the tweed, and is said to have been built in 1500, and dedicated to st. mary by james iv. in gratitude for his delivery from drowning by a sudden flood of the tweed. it is a triapsidal cross church, without aisles, with an apsidal termination at the e. end of the chancel and at the n. and s. ends of the transept. the body of the church and transepts are covered with pointed barrel vaults, with ribs at intervals springing from small corbels, and the whole is roofed with overlapping stone flags. the upper part of the tower has been rebuilt, the lower part being of the same date as the church, which is still the parish church. _seton collegiate church_, haddingtonshire, probably rebuilt about the close of the 15th century, was added to by the second lord seton when he made the church collegiate in 1493, and was completed by the third lord seton. the transepts, tower, and spire would appear to have been erected by the dowager lady seton in the 16th century, after her husband's death at flodden. _arbuthnott church_, kincardineshire, is an interesting and picturesque structure, containing work of three distinct periods. the chancel was dedicated in 1242, and the nave may be in part of the same period. the s. wing or aisle was built by sir robert arbuthnott in the end of the 15th century. the quaint w. end represents a combination of the ecclesiastical and domestic architecture of scotland. the church has been well restored; the arbuthnott missal with the psalter and office were written for the use of this church by the vicar, james sybbald, about 1491. _king's college, aberdeen_ (p. 80). _church of the holy rood, stirling_ (p. 114). _st. mary's parish church, whitekirk_, haddingtonshire, was a great place of pilgrimage, and was visited among others by pope pius ii. (æneas sylvius), who came to render thanks to the virgin for his safe landing in scotland. the church is on the plan of a cross without aisles; the choir is vaulted with a pointed barrel vault, and the roof is slated. over the crossing is a square tower, finished with a plain parapet; the e. end is square, and there is a fine porch at the s.w. angle. the s.w. porch is one of the most striking features of the structure, and its interior is roofed with pointed barrel vaulting, having ribs springing from carved corbels. third or late pointed architecture is also found at _crichton collegiate church_, mid-lothian; _corstorphine collegiate church_, mid-lothian; _crail collegiate church_, fife; _mid-calder church_, mid-lothian; _st. mary's church of the carmelite friars_, south queensferry, linlithgowshire; _yester collegiate church_, haddingtonshire; _tullibardine collegiate church_, perthshire; _maybole collegiate church_, ayrshire; _biggar collegiate church_ (p. 77); _carnwath collegiate church_, lanarkshire; _st. mary's collegiate church, castle semple_, renfrewshire; _church of the franciscans or greyfriars, elgin_, morayshire, and at _aberdeen_; _rowdil priory_ (augustinian), harri, inverness-shire; _oronsay priory_ (augustinian), argyleshire. examples of scottish mediæval architecture are also to be found in the following churches, arranged alphabetically by counties. _aberdeenshire_:--kinkell, kintore, leask. _argyleshire_:--ardchattan and st. mund's collegiate church, kilmun. _ayrshire_:--alloway, old dailly, and straiton. _banffshire_:--cullen collegiate church, deskford, and mortlach. _berwickshire_:--church of abbey st. bathans (cistercian nuns), bassendean, cockburnspath (an ancient structure), preston. _buteshire_:--church of st. mary's abbey, rothesay. _dumbartonshire_:--dumbarton collegiate church and chapel at kirkton of kilmahew. _dumfriesshire_:--canonby priory (augustinian), kirkbryde, st. cuthbert's, moffat; sanquhar. _fifeshire_:--carnock, dysart, kilconquhar, kilrenny, rosyth, dominican church, st. leonard's (p. 116), holy trinity (p. 117), st. andrews. _forfarshire_:--airlie, invergowrie, mains, maryton, pert, st. vigean's. _haddingtonshire_:--church of trinity friars, dunbar, and keith. _kincardineshire_:--st. palladius' church, fordoun. _kirkcudbrightshire_:--old girthon. _lanarkshire_:--blantyre priory (augustinian), and covington. _linlithgowshire_:--auldcathie. _mid-lothian_:--st. triduan's collegiate church, restalrig. _peeblesshire_:--newlands, churches of holy cross and st. andrew, peebles. _perthshire_:--aberuthven; st. moloc, alyth; st. mechessoc, auchterarder; cambusmichael; abbey of coupar (cistercian); dron church, longforgan; ecclesiamagirdle or exmagirdle, glenearn; forgandenny; abbey of inchaffray (augustinian); innerpeffray (collegiate); kinfauns; methven (collegiate); moncrieff chapel; wast-town (near errol). _renfrewshire_:--houston, st. fillan's, and kilmalcolm. _selkirkshire_:--selkirk. _wigtownshire_:--st. machutus' church, wigtown. mediæval architecture terminated with the reformation in 1560. in closing this necessarily brief record of our ancient scottish churches, a word must be added on the scottish reformation. it was the aim of knox to cleanse, not to destroy the temple, and the iconoclasm that followed was the work of the "rascal multitude," while many of the churches and abbeys were ruined by the attacks of the english before the reformation, as the previous pages indicate. the old builders, too, did a great deal of what is now known as "scamped work," although it was partly counteracted by the excellence of their lime and the thickness of their walls. the real cause of the subsequent destruction was _neglect_, not violence, while the secularising of the old endowments alienated into other channels the means that were necessary to undo the effects of wind and weather. as carlyle said, "knox wanted no pulling down of stone edifices; he wanted leprosy and darkness to be thrown out of the lives of men," and it is known that he exerted himself to save the abbey of scone from destruction. in the case of dunkeld cathedral, the order makes it quite clear that neither desks, windows, nor doors, glass work nor iron work, was to be destroyed (pp. 36, 37). the aim of the reformers was at heart an endeavour to make the old temples fit symbols of the reformed faith, and the iconoclasm of the multitude is not to be attributed to them, but to the ignorance and savagery of the time, for which the church of rome was primarily to blame. it was this that lessened church feeling and separated the power of truth from the beauty of holiness. it is our privilege to-day to seek the unity of truth and goodness with beauty, to maintain the faith of the reformation along with that beauty of church architecture which, in its brighter days, the old church witnessed to. it is a one-sided view which sees in gothic nothing but the development of utility or the endeavour to attain greater height; it is the true view which beholds in it the ideality, piety, and faith that possessed the hearts of our forefathers. the architect's design could never have been realised apart from their offerings of devotion to the christian religion. when emerson visited carlyle at craigenputtock, the latter, pointing to the parish church, said to his american friend, "christ's death built dunscore church yonder." it is a deep, true utterance, for christ's death has built every church in christendom, and these embodiments of beauty not least of all. in this light we see what is at the heart of these ancient scottish churches, and what has created the affection that treasures them. the ruined walls of so many of them ought to have been the home of the reformed faith, life, and work, linking the present to the past by natural piety, and visibly reminding the worshippers of the church that endureth throughout all generations. the present revival of interest in them is like a new-discovered sense, and is undoing the spoliation and neglect of an age subsequent to the reformation, and for which the scottish reformers are not to blame. theirs was no easy work, and history has vindicated its results in the progressive genius of the scottish people. the reformation saved religion, but the alienation of the religious endowments to secular purposes, often by unworthy hands, is the chief cause of the ruins which tell of a beauty that has left the earth, and it has deprived the church of so many of its venerable heirlooms. otherwise there might have been said of the scottish as was said of the english reformation that but for it there would have been little norman or early english left in the cathedrals, for it just came at a time when the early styles were being pulled fast down to make room for the later.[479] it was the scottish reformers' aim to make all the churches parish churches, and each church the centre of the life and work of each parish. their grievance against monasticism arose from the corrupt lives of the monks and from its intrusion on the parochial system with the alienation of the parish teinds to the use of the monastery. but the idea of _a church in the centre of a residence_, is one not without suggestiveness to the life of to-day, with its many activities, as a training home for workers; as a temporary retreat for rest, meditation, and prayer to the hard-wrought ministers in the city parishes; as a place for conference on the religious problems; as a theological hall and settlement for divinity students, like that at loccum near hanover, where a reformed mediæval monastery, free from vows, and in the full vigour of its life, is used as a college and residence for the students of the reformed church, and where the old monastic church is used as the parish church for the people around. to visit loccum and see it presided over by the venerable protestant theologian, dr. ullhorn, with its garden, grounds, and farm, its church and cloisters, its great library and residence for professors and students, is to be persuaded of the rich possibilities that lie within the reach of the scottish church in the restoration of some of its ruined abbeys. the saintly leighton felt the need of this, and thought "the great and fatal error of the reformation was, that more of these houses and of that course of life, _free from the entanglements of vows and other mixtures_, was not preserved; so that the protestant churches had neither places of education nor retreat for men of mortified tempers."[480] the reformed church would thereby purify a great idea, and if it be true, as the late master of balliol asserted, that it is the great misfortune of protestantism never to have had an art or architecture,[481] it can restore and adopt the old architecture that was the creation of the christian spirit, amid the leisure of the cloister and in times more restful than our own. appendix definition of leading architectural terms[482] _abacus_--the flat member at the top of a capital. _apse_--the semicircular space at the end of a building. _arcade_--a series of arches; is usually applied to the small ornamental arches only. _barrel vault_--resembling the inside of a barrel. _bead_--a small round moulding. _boss_--a projecting ornament in a vault at the intersection of the ribs. _canopy_--the head of a niche over an image; also the ornamental moulding over a door or window or tomb. _capital_, _cap_--the head of a column, pilaster, etc. _chamfer_--a sloping surface forming the bevelled edge of a square pier, moulding, or buttress, when the angle is said to be chamfered off. _chevron_--an inflected moulding, also called zigzag, characteristic of norman architecture. _clere-story_ or _clear-story_--the upper story of a church, as distinguished from the triforium or blind story below it, in which the openings, though resembling windows, are usually blank or blind, not glazed. _corbel_--a projecting stone to carry a weight, usually carved. _crocket_--an ornament usually resembling a leaf half opened, and projecting from the upper edge of a canopy or pyramidal covering. the term is supposed to be derived from the resemblance to a shepherd's crook. _crypt_--a vault beneath a church, generally beneath the chancel only, and sometimes used for the exhibition of relics. _cusp_--an ornament used in the tracery of windows, screens, etc., to form foliation. _dormer_--an upright window placed on a sloping roof, giving light to the chambers next the roof. _fillet_--a small square band used on the face of mouldings. _finial_--the ornament which finishes the top of a pinnacle, a canopy, or a spire, usually carved into a bunch of foliage. _flying buttress_--an arch carried over the roof of an aisle from the external buttress to the wall of the clerestory, to support the vault. _gargoyle_--a projected water-spout, often ornamented with grotesque figures. _jambs_--the sides of a window opening or doorway. _mullion_--the vertical bar dividing the lights of a window. _ogee_--a moulding formed by the combination of a round and hollow. _pier arches_--the main arches of the nave or choir resting on piers. _pinnacle_--a sort of small spire usually terminating a buttress. _piscina_--a water-drain in a church placed on the right-hand side of an altar for the use of the priest. _plinth_--the projecting member forming the lower part of a base or of a wall. _shaft_--a small, slender pillar usually attached to a larger one, or in the sides of a doorway or window. _slype_--a passage leading from the transept to the chapter-house. _string-course_--a horizontal moulding or course of masonry, usually applied to the one carried under the windows of the chancel, both externally and internally. _tooth ornament_--an ornament resembling a row of teeth, sometimes called dog's tooth and shark's tooth. _transept_--the portion of a building crossing the nave and producing a cruciform plan. _transition_--the period of a change of style, during which there is frequently an overlapping of the styles. _transom_--the transverse horizontal piece across the mullions of a window. _triforium_ or blind story--the middle story of a large church, over the pier arches and under the clerestory windows; it is usually ornamented by an arcade, and fills the space formed by the necessary slope of the aisle roofs. _tympanum_--the space between the flat lintel of a doorway and the arch over it, usually filled with sculpture. the end. _printed by_ r. & r. clark, limited, _edinburgh._ * * * * * the scott country by w. s. crockett [illustration] _in one volume. large crown 8vo, cloth. containing about 200 illustrations._ _probable price 3s. 6d. net._ mr. w. s. crockett's book on "the scott country" will tell the story of the famous borderland and its undying associations with sir walter, its greatest son. his early years at sandyknowe and kelso will be sketched by one who is himself a native of that very district. scott's first border home at ashestiel, and the making of abbotsford, the ettrick and yarrow of scott, the memories that cluster round melrose, the district of hawick, and the country of "marmion," will all have a place in the work. not a spot of historic and romantic interest but will be referred to all along the line of tweedside and its tributaries from berwick to the beild. the border country of scotland has already been the subject of a very extensive literature, but the "scott country" being presented upon a more compact and comprehensive plan than has yet been attempted, will, we feel sure, be a source of satisfaction to every reader, whether border-born or not. to the scott abroad the volume will recall many a familiar memory, and at home it should take its place as a standard work of its kind, the author being, according to dr. robertson nicoll and others, perhaps the most capable living student of the border and its literature. the "scott country" will have close on 200 illustrations, many of them quite new; and the price is such as to bring it within the reach of all. a. & c. black, soho square, london. * * * * * new pocket edition. =horæ subsecivæ= by john brown, m.d., ll.d., etc. [illustration] cloth, gilt top, 2/net each volume. limp leather, 2/6 net each volume. _new edition. in three volumes. 6-1/4 × 4-1/4 inches. printed on thin bible paper and bound uniform with black's new pocket edition waverley novels. volume i. contains a photogravure frontispiece of a portrait of dr. john brown, by sir george reid, p.r.s.a._ * * * * * =some appreciations of dr. john brown and his books.= =william archer.=--"how came it that no one ever told me it was a thing unique in literature, the autobiography--yes, that is the word--of one of the most wonderful children, and quite the most adorable, that ever lived?... never has so brief a piece of printed matter affected me so profoundly." (this refers to the story of "pet marjorie.") =w. e. gladstone.=--"my estimate of dr. john brown was particularly high. it is easy and obvious to say he was a clever man and a good man, but this is only part of the truth, and he stood, i think, both in the intellectual and the moral order, much higher than these words of themselves convey." =andrew lang.=--"three volumes of essays are all that dr. brown has left us in the way of compositions; a light but imperishable literature.... no man of letters could be more widely regretted, for he was the friend of all who read his books, as even to people who only met him once or twice in life he seemed to become dear and familiar." =professor david masson.=--"yes, many long years hence, when all of us are gone, i can imagine that a little volume will be in circulation, containing 'rab and his friends,' etc.; and that then readers now unborn, thrilled by that peculiar touch which only things of heart and genius can give, will confess to the same charm that now fascinates us, and will think with interest of dr. john brown of edinburgh." =robert louis stevenson.=--"marjorie fleming i have known, as you surmise, for long. she was possibly--no, i take back possibly--she was one of the greatest works of god." a. & c. black, soho square, london. * * * * * footnotes: [1] skene's _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 365, 366. [2] _mediæval architecture_, vol. i. p. 8. [3] _ibid._ pp. 8, 9, 26. [4] _ibid._ p. 145. [5] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 1, 2. [6] _ibid._ [7] _eccles. arch. of scot._ vol. i. pp. 1, 2. [8] _ibid._ pp. 175-190. [9] _ibid._ p. 28. [10] _ibid._ p. 28. [11] _ibid._ p. 178. [12] _eccles. arch. of scot._ vol. i. p. 191. [13] _ibid._ p. 192. [14] _ibid._ [15] _eccles. arch, of scot._ vol. i. pp. 387, 388. [16] _ibid._ pp. 46, 47. [17] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 1. [18] _ibid._ p. 3. [19] _ibid._ vol. i. p. 50. [20] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, pp. 68, 69. [21] _ibid._ p. 70. [22] _eccles. arch. of scot._ vol. ii. p. 332. [23] _ibid._ vol. i. p. 57. [24] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. pp. 1-7. [25] _ancient church and parish of abernethy_, p. 95. [26] _pictish chronicle_, p. 201. [27] _amra columcille_, pp. 29, 63. [28] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 136, 137. [29] scott's _marmion_. [30] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 274. [31] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 309, 310. [32] _scotichronicon_, bk. iv. c. 12. [33] _reg. pri. s. and._ app. p. xxxi. [34] reeves's _british culdees_, p. 41. [35] _church of scotland: past and present_, vol. ii. pp. 309, 310. [36] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 34. [37] _chronicle of the picts and scots_, p. 191. [38] lecture ii. p. 24. [39] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 190. [40] _ibid._ p. 186. [41] petrie's _round towers and ecclesiastical architecture of ireland_. [42] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 6-8. [43] _ibid._ p. 6 [44] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 16. [45] _ibid._ p. 19. [46] _ibid._ p. 26. [47] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 184, 185. [48] _celtic scotland_, ii. p. 186. [49] _historians of scotland_, v. p. lxxxix. [50] vol. i. pp. 3-5. [51] sir james marwick's _charters and documents relating to the city of glasgow_, part i. p. dxxiii. [52] preface to _register_, p. xxiv. [53] messrs. macgibbon and ross and honeyman, architects. [54] _the book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 229. [55] _ibid._ [56] _the book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 231. [57] _ibid._ p. 274. [58] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, ii. p. 160. [59] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 232. [60] _registrum epis. glas._ p. xxiv. [61] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, ii. p. 161. [62] _ibid._ [63] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, ii. p. 161. [64] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 267. [65] _eccles. arch. of scotland_, ii. p. 161. [66] _ibid._ pp. 161, 162. [67] _the book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 324. [68] see professor laurie's _lectures_, pp. 136, 137. [69] _book of glasgow cathedral_, pp. 292-302. [70] _theiner_, p. 505; _reg. epis. glasg._ ii. 470-473, 543, 544. [71] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 265. [72] macgibbon and ross, vol. ii. p. 162. [73] _ibid._ [74] see p. 23. [75] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 108. [76] _ibid._ p. 277. [77] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 291. [78] _ibid._ p. 305. [79] _ibid._ p. 317. [80] _ibid._ p. 304. [81] sir james marwick's _charters and documents of glasgow_, part i. p. xli. [82] dr. rankin, vol. ii. p. 315. [83] _registrum episcopatus glasguensis._ [84] complete list in _book of glasgow cathedral_, pp. 190-197. [85] sir james marwick's _charters_, part. i. p. dxxiv. [86] _ibid._ p. v. [87] _book of glasgow cathedral_, pp. 375, 376. [88] _ibid._ p. 244. [89] _mediæval architecture_, vol. ii. p. 200. [90] _book of glasgow cathedral_, p. 252. [91] macgibbon and ross, vol. ii. p. 172. [92] _book of glasgow cathedral_, pp. 239, 240. [93] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 165. [94] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 405. [95] _ibid._ p. 408. [96] myln's _lives of the bishops of dunkeld_, p. 38. [97] _ibid._ p. 44. [98] myln's _lives of the bishops of dunkeld_, p. 46. [99] _ibid._ p. 56. [100] _ibid._ p. 66. [101] _scoti-monasticon_, pp. 216, 217. [102] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 31. [103] _ibid._ p. 47. [104] _registrum episcopatus aberdonensis_, p. x. [105] _ibid._ [106] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 379. [107] _reg._ p. xi. [108] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 75. [109] _view of the diocese of aberdeen_, p. 148. [110] _ibid._ p. 163. [111] _ecclesiastical architecture_, vol. iii. p. 75. [112] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 75. [113] _ibid._ [114] preface to _register_, pp. xlii., xliii. [115] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 75. [116] _collections of the shires of aberdeen and banff_, p. 150. [117] p. 104. [118] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, p. 77. [119] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 76. [120] _view of the diocese of aberdeen_, p. 151. [121] _ibid._ p. 152. [122] _registrum episcopatus moraviensis_, p. xii. [123] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 369. [124] _registrum_, pp. xiii and 40. [125] _ibid._ p. xiii. [126] _ibid._ [127] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 121. [128] p. xiii., no. 26. [129] _register_, no. 173, p. 204. [130] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 52. [131] _ecclesiastical architecture_, vol. ii. pp. 122, 123. [132] _ibid._ p. 125. [133] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 50. [134] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 145. [135] _life_, vol. ii. p. 437. [136] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 397. [137] _ibid._ [138] _ibid._ [139] preface to the brechin _register_, p. vi. [140] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 400. [141] _ibid._ pp. 400, 401. [142] dr. rankin's _history_, vol. ii. p. 328. [143] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 309. [144] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 209. [145] miss stokes, _early christian architecture_, p. 73. [146] _scotland in early christian times_, p. 45. [147] _ordnance gazetteer_, vol. i. p. 187. [148] _early christian architecture in ireland_, p. 5. [149] _scotland in early christian times_, p. 41. [150] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 213. [151] _ibid._ p. 212. [152] _ibid._ [153] black's _brechin_, pp. 253, 254. [154] preface to _register_, p. xvii. [155] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 402. [156] _catalogue of the scottish bishops_, p. 174. [157] reeves' _british culdees_, p. 141. [158] macgibbon and ross, vol. ii. p. 86. [159] _ibid._ vol. i. p. 174. [160] _ibid._ vol. ii. p. 89. [161] _lib. ins. missarum_, preface, p. xxix. [162] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 92. [163] _ibid._ [164] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 102. [165] _edinburgh lectures._ [166] keith's _scottish bishops_, pp. 177-180. [167] macgibbon and ross, vol. ii. p. 107. [168] keith's _scottish bishops_, p. 175. [169] _history of his own times_, vol. ii. p. 243. [170] _the bishop's walk_, p. 7. [171] _regist. de dunf._, p. 3. [172] reeves' _culdees_, p. 46. [173] _the ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 395. [174] _ibid._ p. 399. [175] mr. neale. [176] his diary for 1571 is published in the _bannatyne miscellany_, vol. iii. pp. 113-156. [177] keith's _scottish bishops_, p. 198. [178] cosmo innes's "records of the bishopric of caithness," _bannatyne miscellany_, vol. iii. p. 3. [179] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 383. [180] _orig. par._ vol. ii. part ii. p. 601. [181] _transactions of the aberdeen ecclesiological society_ (1892), p. 36. [182] _transactions of the aberdeen ecclesiological society_ (1892), p. 40. [183] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 482. [184] _ibid._ p. 485. [185] _ibid._ p. 486. [186] _celtic scotland_, vol. i. p. 69. [187] _ibid._ vol. ii. p. 408. [188] dr. rankin, vol. ii. p. 350. [189] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 265. [190] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 83, 84. [191] _ibid._ p. 85. [192] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 85-102. [193] they were thence taken to ireland. [194] _iona_, pp. 84, 85. [195] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 414. [196] _register of the great seal_ (1634-1651), p. 708, no. 1903; _origines parochiales_, vol. ii. part i. p. 294. [197] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 49. [198] _ibid._ pp. 57-59. [199] _ibid._ p. 74. [200] _transactions._ [201] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 421. [202] _ibid._ p. 426. [203] cf. drummond's _west highland monuments_. [204] _celtic scotland_, vol. ii. p. 92. [205] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 266. [206] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 266-273. [207] _ibid._ p. 273. [208] dr. joseph robertson's _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 39. [209] dr. joseph robertson's _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 40. [210] macgibbon and ross's _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 259-262. [211] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 273. [212] _ibid._ pp. 273-275. [213] _ibid._ p. 276. [214] _ibid._ p. 277. [215] _ibid._ [216] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 278. [217] _ibid._ p. 279. [218] _ibid._ p. 280. [219] _ibid._ [220] _ibid._ [221] _ibid._ p. 282. [222] _ibid._ [223] _ibid._ p. 284. [224] _ibid._ [225] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 288. [226] _ibid._ p. 289. [227] _ibid._ p. 290. [228] _tennyson: a memoir_, vol. ii. p. 280. [229] vol. iii. pp. 181-196. [230] dr. cooper's introduction to _chartulary_, pp. xxv.-xxvi. [231] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 426. [232] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 427, 428. [233] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 431. [234] _records of the university and king's college, aberdeen_, p. xv. [235] _collections of the shires of aberdeen and banff_, p. 210. [236] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. pp. 287-289. [237] _ibid._ p. 295. [238] _transactions of the aberdeen ecclesiological society_, sixth year (1891), p. 63 _et seq._ to p. 76. [239] _sermons and addresses_, p. 29. [240] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 151, also to p. 179. [241] _st. giles, edinburgh, church, college, and cathedral_, p. 1. [242] of the early church, which stood on the site of the present _st. cuthbert's_, edinburgh, dr. skene has declared that "there is no doubt the church was founded by s. cuthbert himself," and so there has been christian worship there for over 1200 years (rev. dr. a. wallace williamson's paper in _aberdeen ecclesiological transactions_, ninth year, p. 114). [243] _charters of the collegiate church of st. giles_, p. iv. [244] _ibid._ [245] dr. lees' _st. giles, edinburgh_, p. 3. [246] introduction to _charters_, p. v. [247] _ibid._ p. vi. [248] _st. giles_, p. 4. [249] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 419. [250] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 420. [251] _ibid._ [252] _ibid._ p. 422. [253] _ibid._ [254] _ibid._ [255] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 425. [256] dr lees' _st. giles_, p. 23. [257] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 426. [258] _ibid._ [259] introduction to _charters_, p. xiv. [260] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 430. [261] introduction to _charters_, p. xv. [262] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 434. [263] _ibid._ p. 436. [264] no. 77, p. 106. [265] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 441. [266] dr. laing's introduction to _charters_, p. xxx. [267] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 445. [268] _ib._ p. 446 [269] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, pp. 445-449. [270] intro. to _charters_, p. xix. [271] dr. lees' _st. giles_, p. 273. [272] dr. lees' _st. giles_, p. 117. [273] _ibid._ pp. 124, 125. [274] calderwood's _history_, vol. iii. pp. 73, 257. [275] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 454. [276] _st. giles_, p. 262. [277] very rev. dr. cameron lees. [278] _st. giles_, p. 270. [279] _ibid._ p. 214. [280] rankin, vol. ii. p. 361. [281] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 199. [282] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 36. [283] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 298-309. [284] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 313, 314. [285] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 455. [286] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, pp. 455-470. [287] fergusson's _history of architecture_, vol. ii. p. 222. [288] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 493. [289] hay's _sacra scotia_, p. 323. [290] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 109. [291] rev. john fergusson of aberdalgie in _scottish antiquary_, january 1897, p. 137. [292] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 116. [293] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 116. [294] _ibid._ p. 121, and lord high treasurer's accounts. [295] _ibid._ p. 122. [296] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 125. [297] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 132. [298] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 330. [299] _ibid._ p. 138. [300] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 450. [301] _ibid._ p. 450 [302] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 451. [303] _ibid._ [304] _ibid._ [305] professor mitchell's _scottish reformation_, p. 96. [306] _the works of john knox_, vol. i. p. 228. [307] _sketches of early scotch history_, p. 10. [308] _ibid._ p. 11. [309] _ibid._ p. 18. [310] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, p. 27. [311] _modern painters_, vol. i. p. 23. [312] _ibid._ vol. iii. p. 44. [313] _ibid._ vol. v. p. 206. [314] _oxford lectures_, p. 27. [315] montalembert's _monks of the west_, vol. ii. pp. 40, 41. [316] the augustinian order had also monasteries at scone, inchcolm, lochleven, isle of may, and pittenweem, blantyre, cambuskenneth, restennet, canonby, and inchaffray, as well as smaller houses at loch tay, portmoak, monymusk, st. mary's isle priory at trail, rowadil, oronsay, colonsay, inchmahome, rosneath, strathfillan, scarinche, abernethy (perthshire); the _premonstratensian_ order had also abbeys at saulseat, holywood, whithorn, tongland, fearn; the _benedictine_ order had also abbeys at coldingham and urquhart; the _cluniacensian_ order had also abbeys at crossraguel, fail, and dalmulin; the _tyronensian_ order had also abbeys at lesmahagow, kilwinning, lindores, iona, and smaller houses at dull, fyvie, inchkenneth, rothesay (st. mary's); the _cistercian_ order had also abbeys at newbattle, dundrennan, kinloss, deir, cupar, glenluce, culross, balmerino, sweetheart, and smaller houses at saddel, friars carse (near dumfries), hassendean, mauchline, cadvan (in dunbog), and holm cultram; the _order of vallis caulium_ had priories at pluscardine, beauly, and ardchattan; the _carthusians_ had houses at perth and makerstone (roxburghshire). there were 14 religious houses belonging to the trinity friars, 12 to the carmelites, 18 to the dominicans, 7 to the franciscans, 13 to the observantines, 6 to the knights of malta, 16 to the knights templars. [317] _scottish ordnance gazetteer_, vol. vi. p. 300. [318] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 54 _et seq._ to p. 72. [319] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 68. [320] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 71. [321] _ibid._ pp. 71, 72. [322] gordon's _monasticon_, p. 156. [323] gordon's _monasticon_, p. 158. [324] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 401 _et seq._ to p. 414. [325] _ibid._ p. 403. [326] gordon's _monasticon_, p. 254. [327] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 448. [328] _monasticon_, p. 324. [329] _ibid._ p. 340. [330] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 451 _et seq._ to p. 464. [331] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 462. [332] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 464. [333] introduction to _registrum de dunfermlyn_, p. 25. [334] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 231. [335] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 231. [336] introduction to _registrum_, p. 25. [337] _monasticon_, p. 404. [338] _registrum_, p. 25. [339] _monasticon_, pp. 411, 412. [340] _the ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 234. [341] _ibid._ pp. 234, 238. [342] _ibid._ p. 238. [343] _ibid._ [344] _ibid._ [345] _scottish abbeys and cathedrals_, pp. 33, 34. [346] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 238. [347] _ibid._ p. 241. [348] _ibid._ [349] _ibid._ [350] _ibid._ p. 242. [351] lindsay's _chronicle of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 555. [352] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 245. [353] _ibid._ [354] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 246-249. [355] _ibid._ pp. 251, 252. [356] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 252-254. [357] _history_, vol. i., year 1303-1304. [358] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. p. 254. [359] see p. 144. [360] _ecc. arch. of scot._ vol. i. pp. 254-256. [361] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 1, 2. [362] _scotland in the middle ages_, p. 114. [363] _historical sketches_, p. 109. [364] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 26, 27. [365] kingsley's _roman and teuton_, pp. 204-206. [366] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 58, 59. [367] _ibid._ p. 63. [368] _ibid._ p. 65. [369] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 8. [370] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 91. [371] _ibid._ p. 91. [372] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 96. [373] _ibid._ p. 109. [374] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 117. [375] _ibid._ p. 120. [376] page 19. [377] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 8. [378] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 142. [379] _a scots mediæval architect_, by p. macgregor chalmers, pp. 14, 15 (scots lore). [380] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 144, 145. [381] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 159, 160. [382] _ibid._ p. 165. [383] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 205. [384] see laing's _knox_. [385] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 228, 229. [386] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. pp. 10-26. [387] _ibid._ p. 13. [388] _ibid._ [389] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 16. [390] _ibid._ [391] _ibid._ [392] _ibid._ [393] _ibid._ p. 21. [394] _ibid._ [395] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. p. 21. [396] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 166. [397] _ibid._ p. 209. [398] _ibid._ [399] _the abbey of paisley_, pp. 211, 212. [400] _ibid._ p. 212. [401] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. iii. pp. 25, 26. [402] _ibid._ p. 168. [403] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 214. [404] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 215. [405] _ibid._ p. 206. [406] _ibid._ p. 337. [407] _ibid._ p. 338. [408] _ibid._ [409] _the abbey of paisley_, p. 339. [410] _ibid._ p. 340. [411] introduction to _reg. cart. de kelso_, i. p. viii. [412] _ibid._ [413] _ibid._ p. xli. [414] _ibid._ pp. viii-xvi. [415] _ibid._ p. xliv. [416] introduction to _reg. cart. de kelso_, pp. xliii, xliv. [417] _roxburgh, selkirk, and peebles_, by sir george douglas, bart., pp. 284, 285. [418] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 350-352. [419] _ibid._ p. 352. [420] introduction to _chartulary_, p. xlix. [421] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 353-361. [422] _ibid._ [423] _ibid._ [424] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 356, 357. [425] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 357, 358. [426] _ibid._ p. 359. [427] _ibid._ p. 360. [428] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 360, 361. [429] _ibid._ p. 361. [430] _ibid._ [431] hay's _history of arbroath_, p. 27. [432] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 31. [433] _sketches of early scotch history_, p. 161. [434] _ibid._ [435] _ibid._ p. 171. [436] _sketches of early scotch history_, p. 159. [437] _national manuscripts_, part ii. [438] see principal story's _apostolic ministry in the scottish church_, p. 197. [439] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 31-35. [440] _ibid._ pp. 35-37. [441] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 39. [442] _ibid._ pp. 39-41. [443] _ibid._ p. 41. [444] _ibid._ [445] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 43-45. [446] _ibid._ p. 45. [447] _ibid._ pp. 46, 48. [448] _ibid._ p. 48. [449] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 50. [450] millar's _arbroath and its abbey_, p. 103. [451] pp. xxxi, xxxii. [452] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 347. [453] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 377. [454] _ibid._ p. 349. [455] _ibid._ p. 351. [456] _ibid._ [457] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 353, 356. [458] _ibid._ p. 356. [459] _ibid._ pp. 356, 357. [460] messrs. macgibbon and ross consider it probable that a fragment of the original north wall may have been preserved as the core of the present wall, and faced up on both sides with newer work (_ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 360, 361). [461] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 361. [462] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 362, 363. [463] _ibid._ p. 366. [464] _ibid._ [465] _ibid._ [466] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 372. [467] _ibid._ p. 373. [468] _ibid._ [469] _ibid._ [470] _ibid._ p. 374. [471] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. pp. 373, 374. [472] _ibid._ p. 375. [473] _ibid._ [474] _ibid._ p. 377. [475] as given in monteith's _theater of mortality_ (1713)--earliest and most accurate reference. [476] _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. ii. p. 378. [477] see _scots lore_, nos. 1-7. [478] in this summary i am specially indebted to the _ecclesiastical architecture of scotland_, vol. i. pp. 175-477, vol. ii. pp. 5-559, vol. iii. pp. 7-533. the statements are much compressed on account of the limitations of the space at my disposal. [479] _life and letters of benjamin jowett_, vol. ii. pp. 72, 73. [480] _burnet's history of my own time_ (clarendon edition), vol. i. p. 246. [481] _life and letters_, vol. ii. p. 71. [482] cf. parker's _introduction to gothic architecture_, 321-331; also _glossary of architecture_, vol. i. file was produced from images generously made available by the internet archive/million book project) byzantine churches in constantinople macmillan and co., limited london · bombay · calcutta melbourne the macmillan company new york · boston · chicago dallas · san francisco the macmillan co. of canada, ltd. toronto [illustration: plate i. mediaeval map of constantinople by bondelmontius. _frontispiece._] note on the map of constantinople for the map forming the frontispiece and the following note i am greatly indebted to mr. f. w. hasluck, of the british school at athens. the map is taken from the unpublished _insularium henrici martelli germani_ (_b.m. add. mss._ 15,760) f. 40. a short note on the ms., which may be dated approximately 1490, is given in the _annual of the british school at athens_, xii. 199. the map of constantinople is a derivative of the buondelmontius series, which dates from 1420, and forms the base of all known maps prior to the conquest. buondelmontius' map of constantinople has been published from several mss., varying considerably in legend and other details:[1] the best account of these publications is to be found in e. oberhummer's _konstantinopel unter suleiman dem grossen_, pp. 18 ff. the map in b.m. _arundel_, 93, has since been published in _annual b.s.a._ xii. pl. i. in the present map the legends are as follows. those marked with a dagger do not occur on hitherto published maps. reference is made below to the paris ms. (best published by oberhummer, _loc. cit._), the venetian (mordtmann, _esquisse_, p. 45, sathas, [greek: mnêmeia], iii., frontispiece), and the vatican (mordtmann, _loc. cit._ p. 73). tracie pars--galatha olim nvnc pera--pera--s. dominicus--arcena--introitus euxini maris. asie minoris pars nvnc tvrchia.--tvrchia. tracie pars--porta vlacherne--[symbol: cross] ab hec (_sic_) porta vlacherne usque ad portam sancti demetri 6 m.p. et centum et decem turres--[symbol: cross] porta s. iohannis[1]--porta chamici[2]--porta crescu--porta crescea--[symbol: cross] ab hec (_sic_) porta que dicitur crescea usque ad portam sancti demetri septem m. passuum et turres centum nonaginta octo. et ad portam vlacherne 5 m. passuum et turres nonaginta sex--receptaculum conticasii[3]-porta olim palacii imperatoris--porta s. dimitri--iudee[4]--pistarie p.[5]--messi p.--cheone p.[6]--s. andreas--s. iohannes de petra--hic constantinus genuflexus--[symbol: cross] ad s. salvatorem--[symbol: cross] columna co(n)s?--hic iustinianus in equo[7]--sancta sophia--hippodromus--s. demetrius--s. georgius-s. lazarus--domus pape--domus s. constantini--sanctorum apostolorum--porta antiquissima mire (_sic_) arte constructa[8]--s. marta[9]--s. andreas--s. iohannes de studio--perleftos. f. w. h. [1] s. romani? [2] porta camidi, _vat._ [3] receptaculum fustarum dein condoscalli, _par._ [4] porta judea, _par._ [5] porta piscarii, _par._ [6] porta lacherne, _par._, delle corne, vat., del chinigo (i.e. [greek: kynêgiou]) in the xvi. cent. venetian maps. [7] theodosius in aequo eneo, _ven._ in hoc visus imp. teod. equo sedens, _vat._ [8] porta antiquissima pulcra, _par._ [9] st. ma[=m] (as?) _ven._ sts. marcus, _vat._ byzantine churches in constantinople their history and architecture by alexander van millingen, m.a., d.d. professor of history, robert college, constantinople author of 'byzantine constantinople,' 'constantinople' assisted by ramsay traquair, a.r.i.b.a. lecturer on architecture, college of art, edinburgh w. s. george, a.r.c.a., and a. e. henderson, f.s.a. with maps, plans, and illustrations macmillan and co., limited st. martin's street, london 1912 copyright preface this volume is a sequel to the work i published, several years ago, under the title, _byzantine constantinople: the walls of the city, and adjoining historical sites_. in that work the city was viewed, mainly, as the citadel of the roman empire in the east, and the bulwark of civilization for more than a thousand years. but the city of constantine was not only a mighty fortress. it was, moreover, the centre of a great religious community, which elaborated dogmas, fostered forms of piety, and controlled an ecclesiastical administration that have left a profound impression upon the thought and life of mankind. new rome was a holy city. it was crowded with churches, hallowed, it was believed, by the remains of the apostles, prophets, saints, and martyrs of the catholic church; shrines at which men gathered to worship, from near and far, as before the gates of heaven. these sanctuaries were, furthermore, constructed and beautified after a fashion which marks a distinct and important period in the history of art, and have much to interest the artist and the architect. we have, consequently, reasons enough to justify our study of the churches of byzantine constantinople. of the immense number of the churches which once filled the city but a small remnant survives. earthquakes, fires, pillage, neglect, not to speak of the facility with which a byzantine structure could be shorn of its glory, have swept the vast majority off the face of the earth, leaving not a rack behind. in most cases even the sites on which they stood cannot be identified. the places which knew them know them no more. scarcely a score of the old churches of the city are left to us, all with one exception converted into mosques and sadly altered. the visitor must, therefore, be prepared for disappointment. age is not always a crown of glory; nor does change of ownership and adaptation to different ideas and tastes necessarily conduce to improvement. we are not looking at flowers in their native clime or in full bloom, but at flowers in a herbarium so to speak, or left to wither and decay. as we look upon them we have need of imagination to see in faded colours the graceful forms and brilliant hues which charmed and delighted the eyes of men in other days. in the preparation of this work i have availed myself of the aid afforded by previous students in the same field of research, and i have gratefully acknowledged my debt to them whenever there has been occasion to do so. at the same time this is a fresh study of the subject, and has been made with the hope of confirming what is true, correcting mistakes, and gathering additional information. attention has been given to both the history and the architecture of these buildings. the materials for the former are, unfortunately, all too scanty. no continuous records of any of these churches exist. a few incidents scattered over wide tracts of time constitute all that can be known. still, disconnected incidents though they be, they give us glimpses of the characteristic thoughts and feelings of a large mass of our humanity during a long period of history. the student of the architecture of these churches likewise labours under serious disadvantages. turkish colour-wash frequently conceals what is necessary for a complete survey; while access to the higher parts of a building by means of scaffolding or ladders is often impossible under present circumstances. hence the architect cannot always speak positively, and must leave many an interesting point in suspense. care has been taken to distinguish the original parts of a building from alterations made in byzantine days or since the turkish conquest; while, by the prominence given to the variety of type which the churches present, the life and movement observable in byzantine ecclesiastical art has been made clear, and the common idea that it was a stereotyped art has been proved to be without foundation. numerous references to the church of s. sophia occur in the course of this volume, but the reader will not find that great monument of byzantine architectural genius dealt with in the studies here offered. the obstacles in the way of a proper treatment of that subject proved insuperable, while the writings of salzenberg, lethaby, and swainson, and especially the splendid and exhaustive monograph of my friend mr. e. m. antoniadi, seemed to make any attempt of mine in the same direction superfluous if not presumptuous. the omission will, however, secure one advantage: the churches actually studied will not be overshadowed by the grandeur of the 'great church,' but will stand clear before the view in all the light that beats upon them. i recall gratefully my obligations to the sultan's government and to the late sir nicholas o'conor, british ambassador at constantinople, for permission to make a scientific examination of the churches of the city. to the present british ambassador, sir gerard lowther, best thanks are due for the facilities enjoyed in the study of the church of s. irene. i have been exceedingly fortunate in the architects who have given me the benefit of their professional knowledge and skill in the execution of my task, and i beg that their share in this work should be recognized and appreciated as fully as it deserves. to the generosity of the british school at athens i am indebted for being able to secure the services of mr. ramsay traquair, associate of the royal institute of british architects and lecturer on architecture at the college of art in edinburgh. mr. traquair spent three months in constantinople for the express purpose of collecting the materials for the plans, illustrations, and notes he has contributed to this work. the chapter on byzantine architecture is entirely from his pen. he has also described the architectural features of most of the churches; but i have occasionally introduced information from other sources, or given my own personal observations. i am likewise under deep obligation to mr. a. e. henderson, f.s.a., for the generous kindness with which he has allowed me to reproduce his masterly plans of the churches of ss. sergius and bacchus, s. mary panachrantos, and many of his photographs and drawings of other churches in the city. i am, moreover, indebted to the byzantine research and publication fund for courteous permission to present here some of the results of the splendid work done by mr. w. s. george, f.s.a., under unique circumstances, in the study of the church of s. irene, and i thank mr. george personally for the cordial readiness with which he consented to allow me even to anticipate his own monograph on that very interesting fabric. it is impossible to thank professor baldwin brown, of the university of edinburgh, enough, for his unfailing kindness whenever i consulted him in connection with my work. nor do i forget how much i owe to j. meade falkner, esq., for kindly undertaking the irksome task of revising the proofs of the book while going through the press. i cannot close without calling attention to the brighter day which has dawned on the students of the antiquities of constantinople since constitutional government has been introduced in the ottoman empire. permission to carry on excavations in the city has been promised me. the archaeology of new rome only waits for wealthy patrons to enable it to reach a position similar to that occupied by archaeological research in other centres of ancient and mediaeval civilizations. but the monuments of the olden time are perishable. of the churches described by paspates in his _byzantine studies_, published in 1877, nine have either entirely disappeared or lost more of their original features. it was no part of wisdom to let the books of the cunning sibyl become rarer and knowledge poorer by neglecting to secure all that was obtainable when she made her first or even her second offer. alexander van millingen. robert college, constantinople. [greek: polis ekklêsiôn galouche, pisteôs archêge, orthodoxias podêge.] nicetas choniates. contents page chapter i byzantine architecture 1 chapter ii church of s. john the baptist of the studion 35 chapter iii church of ss. sergius and bacchus 62 chapter iv church of s. irene 84 chapter v church of s. andrew in krisei 106 chapter vi church of s. mary panachrantos 122 chapter vii church of s. mary pammakaristos 138 chapter viii church of s. theodosia 164 chapter ix church of s. mary diaconissa 183 chapter x church of ss. peter and mark 191 chapter xi church of the myrelaion 196 chapter xii church of s. john the baptist in trullo 201 chapter xiii church of s. thekla 207 chapter xiv church of s. saviour pantepoptes 212 chapter xv church of s. saviour pantokrator 219 chapter xvi church of s. theodore 243 chapter xvii monastery of manuel 253 chapter xviii monastir mesjedi 262 chapter xix balaban aga mesjedi 265 chapter xx church of the gastria 268 chapter xxi church of s. mary of the mongols 272 chapter xxii bogdan serai 280 chapter xxiii church of s. saviour in the chora 288 chapter xxiv mosaics and frescoes in the church of s. saviour in the chora 321 chapter xxv dating and classification of the churches 332 bibliography 337 list of emperors 341 index 343 plans and illustrations fig. page 1. kasr ibn wardan 4 2. deré aghsy 6 3. deré aghsy (section) 6 4. s. nicholas, myra 7 5. church of the koimesis, nicaea 8 6. church of the koimesis, nicaea (section) 9 7. map of byzantine constantinople _facing_ 15 8. the saucer dome or dome-vault 16 9. the dome on pendentives 16 10. the drum dome 17 11. diagram of vaulting in outer narthex of s. saviour in the chora. 22 church of s. john the baptist of the studion 12. plan of the church 56 13. long section 57 14. cross section, looking east 58 15. cross section, looking west 58 16. elevation of the narthex 59 17. longitudinal section of western portion of the nave--half-cross section of the nave 59 18. details of the narthex, colonnade, doors, windows 60 19. details of doors; details from church of s. theodore; details from s. saviour in the chora 61 church of ss. sergius and bacchus 20. inscription on the frieze in the church 74 21. exterior view of the dome 77 22. brick stamps in the church 79 23. ground plan (looking up) 80 24. gynaeceum plan (looking up) 80 25. plan at base of dome (cross section) 81 26. transverse section 81 27. section through south aisle 81 28. constructive section of the interior arrangement, showing gynaeceum floor, vaulting, roof, and springing of dome 82 29. constructive section of the rear, with gynaeceum, floor, and roof removed 82 30. sections of mouldings 83 church of s. irene 31. ground plan of the atrium and church _facing_ 104 32. gallery plan " 104 33. longitudinal section " 104 34. south elevation " 104 35. west elevation " 105 church of s. andrew in krisei 36. plan of the church (restored) 118 37. plan of the church 119 38, 39. longitudinal sections 120 40. isometrical section (restored) 121 church of s. mary panachrantos 41. details of the shafts in east windows of south church 124 42. inscription on apse of north church 131 43. plan of the church (conjectural) 135 44. plan of the church 135 45. section through the north church 135 46. section through the south church 135 church of s. mary pammakaristos 47. plan of the church (conjectural) 152 48. brick details from the parecclesion 154 49. inscribed string-course on apse of the parecclesion 157 50. plan of the church--plan of the parecclesion--plan of the gynaeceum in the parecclesion _facing_ 160 51. cross section of the church, looking east 161 52. the parecclesion, east end of south side 162 53. sections in the parecclesion--plan of dome in the gynaeceum 163 church of s. theodosia 54. interior of the church, looking west 171 55. details from the church--details from church of s. theodore--capital and shaft found near unkapan gate 174 56. ground plan 179 57. plan of the gynaeceum 180 58. section in the gynaeceum 181 59. longitudinal section of the church 181 60. isometrical section, showing scheme 182 church of s. mary diaconissa 61. plan of the church 189 62. longitudinal section 190 church of ss. peter and mark 63. font in the street to the west of the church--a window in s. saviour in the chora 194 64. plan of the church 195 65. longitudinal section 195 church of the myrelaion 66. plan of the church 200 67. longitudinal section 200 church of s. john the baptist in trullo 68. details from the church--details from the pammakaristos--details from the pantepoptes 203 69. details from s. andrew in krisei--details from the chora 204 70. plan of s. john in trullo--longitudinal section--plan of the dome 206 church of s. thekla 71. plan of the church--cross section 206 church of s. saviour pantepoptes 72. sketches from the church 213 73. plan of the church--longitudinal section 217 74. details from the church 218 church of s. saviour pantokrator 75. details from the church--details from s. saviour pantepoptes 225 76. inlaid marble pavement in the pantokrator--tile pavement in the gallery of s. theodosia 234 77. plan of the pantokrator _facing_ 240 78. longitudinal section through the north church 241 79. longitudinal section through the central church 241 80. longitudinal section through the south church 242 church of s. theodore 81. details from the church 245 82. plan of the church by texier 249 83. part of south elevation showing the side chapel by texier 249 84. plan of the church 251 85. longitudinal section 251 86. front elevation--half-plan of central dome in the narthex 252 87. south elevation and section through vaulted bay of narthex--half-plan of central dome 252 monastery of manuel 88. plan of the refectory 261 monastir mesjedi 89. plan of the church--cross section 261 balaban mesjedi 90. plan of the building 267 91. section 267 church of the gastria 92. plan of the church 267 church of s. mary of the mongols 93. exterior view 273 94. interior view 274 95. the dome (interior view) 276 96. plan of church 279 97. plan of s. nicholas methana 279 bogdan serai 98. plan of upper chapel--half-section of apse--half-section of east end--longitudinal section 287 church of s. saviour in the chora 99. details from the church 305 100. details of a window in the gallery 309 101. plan of s. sophia, salonica 313 102. plan of the chora (restored) 314 103. bay in the chora (restored) 315 104. plan of church of the archangels, sygé 316 105. plan of the chora and the parecclesion 317 106. cross section, looking west 318 107. plan of upper gallery 318 108. section through church 319 109. section through chapel 319 110. plan of dome 320 111. section through inner narthex 320 112. plan of gallery between the church and the parecclesion 320 113. section of north gallery 320 114. plan of the narthexes, indicating the positions of their mosaics 321 115. model of the church in the mosaic over main door in the inner narthex 326 116. plan of the parecclesion, indicating positions of its frescoes 328 plates i. mediaeval map of constantinople by bondelmontius _frontispiece_ facing page ii. the myrelaion (since it was burned). (1) from the north-west. (2) from the south-east 20 iii. (1) the myrelaion (since it was burned). the interior, looking east. (2) suleiman aga mesjedi 24 iv. (1) bracket in s. saviour in the chora. (2) sculptured slab in s. theodore. (3) s. mary diaconissa. heads of windows in south arm. (4) sculptured slab on the west wall 28 church of s. john of the studion v. (1) the ruined interior, seen from the minaret of the mosque. (2) the west side of the church 36 vi. (1) façade of the narthex. (2) the ruined interior, at the west end of the north side 40 vii. (1) entablature and anta capital in the narthex. (2) cornice in the narthex, looking up 44 viii. the church from the south-east 48 ix. (1) the east end of the church. (2) east end of the north side of the church 52 x. (1) the cistern beside the church. (2) another view of the same 54 the church of ss. sergius and bacchus xi. the interior of the church, looking north-west 62 xii. (1) a capital in the church. (2) a capital in the narthex of s. john of the studion 66 xiii. (1) the church from the south-east. (2) view in the gallery over the narthex 70 xiv. (1) the interior of the church, looking north-east. (2) portion of the entablature in the church 74 xv. the baptistery of the church of s. sophia. (1) the exterior from the north-east. (2) the interior of the dome, showing continuous pendentives 76 the church of s. irene xvi. the church from the south-east 84 xvii. (1) the south side. (2) the north side 86 xviii. the interior, looking east 90 xix. (1) vaulting at the north-western corner of the atrium. (2) the northern arch of the main dome, seen from the south gallery 92 xx. (1) mosaic in the soffit of an arch. (2) portion of the mosaic inscription on the outer arch of the apse 96 xxi. (1) the interior, looking west. (2) the door at the east end of the north aisle 98 xxii. (1) vaulting over the south aisle. (2) a compartment of vaulting in south aisle, looking up 100 xxiii. (1) a capital in the south arcade. (2) base of a column in the south aisle 102 the church of s. andrew in krisei xxiv. the east end of the church 106 xxv. (1) the church from the south-west. (2) the interior, looking south 108 xxvi. (1) a capital in the inner narthex. (2) a capital in the arcade under the west dome arch 110 xxvii. (1) a capital in the outer narthex. (2) a capital in the outer narthex 112 xxviii. (1) view in the outer narthex. (2) view in the inner narthex, looking south 114 xxix. (1) view in the cloister. (2) view in the courtyard 116 xxx. (1, 2, 3) three views of the decorated doorway in the cloister 118 the church of s. mary panachrantos xxxi. (1) vault of the passage on the west of the dome in the south church. (2) the interior of the north church, looking north 122 xxxii. (1) the north church, looking east. (2) the north church, looking west 126 xxxiii. (1) the diaconicon, looking east. (2) the western dome arch in the south church 128 xxxiv. (1) the east window of the south church. (2) the outer narthex, looking south 130 xxxv. (1) the east end of the south church. (2) the east end of the north church 132 church of s. mary pammakaristos xxxvi. (1) the church from the south-east. (2) the church from the west 138 xxxvii. (1) the inner narthex, looking south. (2) the dome, looking west 142 xxxviii. the parecclesion from the south-east 144 xxxix. (1) the east end of the parecclesion. (2) the west column in the parecclesion 148 xl. (1) the east column in the parecclesion. (2) the column flanking the east window in the apse of the parecclesion. (3) the west column in the parecclesion 150 xli. (1) interior view of the dome in the parecclesion. (2) mosaic in the dome of the parecclesion 154 xlii. south side of the parecclesion 156 church of s. theodosia xliii. (1) the east end of the church. (2) the church from the south-east 164 xliv. (1) the interior, looking north-east. (2) the eastern dome arch 168 xlv. (1) the dome over the stairway to the galleries. (2) the narthex, looking north, and the stairway to the galleries 172 church of s. mary diaconissa xlvi. (1) the north-west side, seen from the aqueduct of valens. (2) the north arm, looking east 182 xlvii. (1) the interior, looking north-east. (2) the interior, looking south-east 184 xlviii. (1) the lower part of the north side of the east end. (2) the upper part of the north side of the east end 186 xlix. (1) south eikon frame. (2) detail in the south eikon frame 188 l. (1) the interior, looking west. (2) a capital on the column at the entrance to the church 190 church of ss. peter and mark li. (1) the church from the south-east. (2) font outside the church 192 lii. (1) the dome, looking north. (2) looking across the dome, from the south-west 194 church of the myrelaion liii. (1) the south side of the church. (2) the narthex, looking north 196 liv. (1) the interior, looking east. (2) the south-west angle of the cross 198 lv. (1) s. john in trullo from the south-west. (2) the interior of balaban mesjedi 202 lvi. the church of s. thekla. (1) from the north-west. (2) the east end 208 the church of s. saviour pantepoptes lvii. (1) door leading from the outer to the inner narthex. (2) the dome, looking west 212 lviii. (1) decoration in brick on the exterior of the south wall. (2) bracket in the parecclesion of s. mary pammakaristos 214 church of s. saviour pantokrator lix. the church from the west 220 lx. (1) the church from the north-west. (2) fragments of sculptured marbles found in the church 222 lxi. (1) interior of the south church, looking east. (2) the southern arm of the church 224 lxii. (1) entrance from the narthex to the south church. (2) interior, looking from the south church through into the north church 226 lxiii. (1) the gallery in the north church, looking south. (2) interior of the north church, looking east 228 lxiv. (1) arch in the north wall of the south church, seen from the south church, looking north. (2) arch in the north wall of the south church, seen from the central church, looking south 230 lxv. (1) narthex of the north church, looking north. (2) outer narthex of the south church, looking north 232 lxvi. (1) south bay in the gallery of the south church. (2) view in the north church, looking south 234 lxvii. (1) the pulpit in the south church. (2) west side of the central bay in the gallery of the south church 236 lxviii. (1) interior of the east dome in the central church. (2) interior of the dome in the south church, looking north 238 lxix. (1) the east end from the south. (2) east window of the central church. (3) the east end from the north 242 church of s. theodore lxx. (1) the north end of the western façade. (2) the church from the north-west 244 lxxi. (1) the central dome from the south. (2) the western façade from the south 246 lxxii. (1) the south cross arm (exterior) from the south-east. (2) the east end from the south 248 lxxiii. (1) the capital on the southernmost column in the façade. (2) capital in the façade 250 lxxiv. (1) the outer narthex, looking north. (2) capital on the north side of the door leading from the outer to the inner narthex 254 lxxv. (1) the interior, looking east. (2) the interior (upper part), looking east 256 the refectory of the monastery of manuel lxxvi. (1) from the west. (2) from the south-east 258 lxxvii. cistern of aetius 262 church of the gastria lxxviii. (1) the church from the east. (2) the entrance 268 lxxix. (1) the church from the west. (2) the interior 270 bogdan serai lxxx. (1) the apse in the upper chapel. (2) a pendentive of the dome. (3) the chapel, from the north-west 280 church of s. saviour in the chora lxxxi. (1) the church from the west. (2) the church from the south-east 288 lxxxii. (1) the church from the north-east. (2) the north side of the church 292 lxxxiii. (1) the inner narthex, looking south. (2) another view of the same 296 lxxxiv. (1) a capital in the outer narthex. (2) another capital in the outer narthex 300 lxxxv. (1) the interior, looking north-west. (2) the outer narthex, looking south 304 lxxxvi. (1) the eikon frame on the south-eastern pier. (2) the interior, looking east 308 lxxxvii. (1) the cornice above the main door (on the interior). (2) the archivolt on the north wall of the parecclesion. (3) window heads in the central apse 310 lxxxviii. (1) the east end of the parecclesion. (2) a capital at the entrance to the parecclesion 314 lxxxix. (1) the parecclesion, looking south-east. (2) the parecclesion, looking west 316 xc. (1) mosaic representing the miracle of water turned into wine. (2) mosaic representing mary caressed by her parents, and blessed by priests seated at a banquet 322 xci. (1) mosaic representing the registration of mary and joseph at bethlehem. (2) mosaic representing theodore metochites offering the church to christ 326 xcii. the archivolt on the south wall of the parecclesion, with the epitaph in honour of tornikes 330 chapter i byzantine architecture i. planning at the beginning of the fifth century, which is a suitable point from which to date the rise of byzantine architecture, three principal types of church plan prevailed in the roman world:-i. the basilica: an oblong hall divided into nave and aisles, and roofed in wood, as in the italian and salonican examples, or with stone barrel-vaults, as in asia minor and central syria. ii. the octagonal or circular plan covered with a stone or brick dome, a type which may be subdivided according as (1) the dome rests upon the outer walls of the building, or (2) on columns or piers surrounded by an ambulatory. the pantheon and the so-called temple of minerva medica at rome are early examples of the first variety, the first circular, the second a decagon in plan. s. george at salonica is a later circular example. an early instance of the second variety is found in s. constanza at rome, and a considerable number of similar churches occur in asia minor, dating from the time of constantine the great or a little later. iii. the cross plan. here we have a square central area covered by a dome, from which extend four vaulted arms constituting a cross. this type also assumes two distinct forms: (1) buildings in which the ground plan is cruciform, so that the cross shows externally at the ground level. churches of this class are usually small, and were probably sepulchral chapels rather than churches for public worship. a good example is the tomb of galla placidia at ravenna. (2) in the second form of the cross church the cross is enclosed within a square, and appears only above the roofs of the angle chambers. an example is seen in the late roman tomb at kusr en nûeijîs in eastern palestine. in this instance the central square area is covered with a dome on continuous pendentives; the four arms have barrel-vaults, and the angles of the cross are occupied by small chambers, which bring the ground-plan to the square. the building is assigned to the second century, and shows that true though continuous pendentives were known at an early date[10] (fig. 8). another example is the praetorium at musmiyeh, in syria,[11] which probably dates from between 160 and 169 a.d. at some later time it was altered to a church, and by a curious foreshadowing of the late byzantine plan the walls of the internal cross have entirely disappeared from the ground-plan. the dome rests on four columns placed at the inner angles of the cross, and the vaulted cross arms rest on lintels spanning the space between the columns and the outer walls. from these three types of building are derived the various schemes on which the churches of the byzantine empire were planned. of the basilican form the only example in constantinople that retains its original plan is s. john the baptist of the studion (p. 56), erected _c._ 463 a.d. the church of ss. sergius and bacchus (p. 70) and the baptistery of s. sophia (p. 78) represent respectively the two varieties of the octagonal plan. in the former the dome rests on piers surrounded by an ambulatory; in the latter the dome rests upon the outer walls of the buildings. both are foundations of justinian the great. of the cross church plan showing the cross externally at the ground level no example survives in the city. but at least one church of that form was seen at constantinople in the case of the church of the holy apostles. this was essentially a mausoleum, built originally by constantine the great and reconstructed by justinian to contain the sarcophagi of the sovereigns and the patriarchs of new rome.[12] the church of s. mark at venice was built on the plan of the holy apostles. it is a cruciform church with aisles, but the galleries which might have been expected above them are omitted. the central dome rests on four piers, and four smaller domes cover the arms. professor strzygowski gives examples of cross-planned cells in the catacombs of palmyra,[13] and in many eastern rock tombs.[14] such cross plans are found also in the roman catacombs. these subterranean chapels, of course, do not show the external treatment, yet there can be little doubt that the external cross plan was originally sepulchral, and owes its peculiar system of planning to that fact. on the other hand, it was adopted in such churches as s. mark's at venice and in the french examples of périgord for aesthetic or traditional reasons. in passing now to a consideration of the distinct forms developed from these pre-byzantine types of church building, the classification adopted by professor strzygowski may be followed. in his _kleinasien_ he has brought forward a series of buildings which show the manner in which a dome was fitted to the oblong basilica, producing the domed basilica (_kuppelbasilica_), an evolution which he regards as hellenistic and eastern. in contrast to this, strzygowski distinguishes the domed cross church (_kreuzkuppelkirche_), of which s. theodosia in constantinople (p. 170) is the typical example and which is a western development. a comparison of the two forms is of great importance for the study of certain constantinople churches. [illustration: fig. 1.--kasr ibn wardan (strzygowski).] the domed basilica, as the name indicates, is a basilica with nave and aisles, in which a square bay in the centre of the nave is covered by a dome on pendentives. to north and south, within the arches supporting the dome, appear the nave and gallery arcades of the basilica; and as the galleried basilica is a usual eastern form galleries are usual in the domed basilica. as seen from the central area, therefore, the north and south dome arches are filled in with arcades in two stories, and the side aisles and galleries are covered with barrel vaults running parallel to the axis of the church. at the west end a gallery over the narthex may unite the two side galleries. at kasr ibn wardan, instanced by strzygowski as a typical domed basilica,[15] there is such a western gallery (fig. 1). according to strzygowski the domed basilica is older than the fifth century. the domed basilica remains always an oblong building, and whilst the two sides to north and south are symmetrical, the western end retains the basilican characteristics--it has no gallery or arcade communicating with the central area. the narthex communicates with the nave by doors, and if a gallery is placed above it, both narthex and gallery are covered by barrel vaults. in the domed cross church (_kreutzküppelkirche_) the central dome rests on barrel vaults which extend to the outer walls of the building and form the arms of the cross, the eastern arm forming the bema. the lighting of the church is by windows in the gable walls which terminate the north, south, and west cross arms. the prothesis and diaconicon open off the side arms, and two small chambers in the western angles of the cross bring the plan externally to the usual rectangular form. the domed cross church may have galleries, as in s. theodosia (p. 170), or may be without them, as in ss. peter and mark (p. 193). where galleries are present they are placed in the cross arms and are supported by arcades at the ground level. the vaults beneath the galleries are cross-groined. the domed cross church is a centrally planned church, in contrast to the domed basilica, which is oblong, and therefore we should expect that where galleries are used they will be formed in all three arms of the cross, as is the case in s. theodosia. there are a number of churches which vary from these types, but which can generally be placed in one class or the other by the consideration of two main characteristics: if the dome arches extend to the outer walls the building is a domed cross church; if the galleries are screened off from the central area by arcades the building is a domed basilica. the church at derè aghsy,[16] for instance, if we had only the plan to guide us, would appear to be a typical domed basilica (fig. 2), but on examining the section we find that the north and south dome arches extend over the galleries to the outer walls and form cross arms (fig. 3). the building is, in fact, a domed cross church with no gallery in the western arm. above the narthex at the west end, and separated from the western cross arm, is a gallery of the type usual in the domed basilica, so that derè aghsy may be regarded as a domed cross church with features derived from the domed basilica. s. sophia at constantinople, the highest development of the domed basilica, has a very similar western gallery. [illustration: fig. 2.--deré aghsy (rott).] the church of s. nicholas at myra[17] (fig. 4) has a gallery at the west end, but the cross arms do not appear to be carried over the galleries. the plan is oblong and the cross-groined vault is not used. the church, therefore, takes its place as a domed basilica. [illustration: fig. 3.--deré aghsy--section (rott).] the church of the koimesis at nicaea[18] (figs. 5 and 6) has no galleries to the sides. the aisles open into the central area by arcades, above which are triple windows over the aisle vaults. at the western end is a gallery above the narthex. the aisles are barrel-vaulted, and as the church is planned on an axis from east to west, and is not symmetrical on all three sides, it is regarded as a domed basilica. it is such a form as might be developed from a basilica without galleries. [illustration: fig. 4.--s. nicholas, myra (rott).] in constantinople there are three churches which seem to constitute a type apart, though resembling in many ways the types just considered. they are s. andrew in krisei, (p. 117), s. mary pammakaristos (p. 150), and s. mary panachrantos (p. 130). in these churches, as originally built, the central dome is carried on four arches which rise above a one-storied aisle or ambulatory, allowing of windows in the dome arches on three sides--the eastern dome arch being prolonged to form the bema. the dome arches have arcades communicating with the ambulatory on the north, south, and west. the vaulting is executed either with barrel or with cross-groined vaults. these churches are evidently planned from a centre, not, like the domed basilicas, from a longitudinal axis. at the same time the absence of any cross arms differentiates them from the domed cross churches. s. andrew, which still retains its western arcade, dates from at least the sixth century, so that the type was in use during the great period of byzantine architecture. indeed, we should be inclined to regard s. andrew as a square form of ss. sergius and bacchus, but without galleries. the type is a natural development from the octagonal domed church with its surrounding ambulatory. [illustration: fig. 5.--the church of the koimesis, nicaea (wulf).] the typical late byzantine church is a development from the domed cross plan. in three examples in constantinople, s. theodosia (pp. 170, 172), s. mary diaconissa (p. 185), and ss. peter and mark (p. 193), we can trace the gradual disappearance of the galleries. s. theodosia, as has already been mentioned, has galleries in all three cross arms. in s. mary diaconissa they are confined to the four angles between the cross arms; ss. peter and mark is a simple cross plan without galleries. in later times it became customary to build many small churches, with the result that the chambers at the angles of the cross, of little account even in a large church, were now too diminutive to be of any value, and the question how to provide as much room as possible for the worshippers became paramount. accordingly the dome piers were reduced to mere columns connected with the outer walls of the building by arches; and thus was produced the typical late byzantine plan--at the ground level a square, enclosing four columns; above, a greek cross with a dome on the centre. [illustration: fig. 6.--the church of the koimesis, nicaea (rott).] from its distinguishing feature this type has been styled the 'four column' plan. it appears in many constantinopolitan churches, as, for example, s. theodore (p. 248) and s. saviour pantepoptes (p. 214). the cross arms are not always equal, and may be covered with barrel vaults (p. 214) or with cross-groined vaults (p. 198). the bema is usually a bay added to the eastern arm. the angle chambers have either cross-groined vaults or flat dome vaults. in general the churches of this type in constantinople do not differ from the numerous churches of the same class in the provinces.[19] a lobed cruciform plan is found in only one church in constantinople, that of s. mary of the mongols (p. 277). here the central dome is supported on four piers set across the angles of the square, so that the pendentives do not come to a point as usual, but spring from the face of the piers. against each side of the square a semi-dome is set, thus producing a quatrefoil plan at the vaulting level. both trefoiled and quatrefoiled churches are not uncommon in armenia, such as the cathedral at etschmiadzin;[20] trefoiled churches of a later date are found in the western provinces, and examples have been published from servia,[21] salonica,[22] and greece.[23] an unusual form of the cross plan is seen in the building known as sanjakdar mesjedi (p. 267), where a cross is placed within an octagon. probably the building was not originally a church. it resembles the octagon near the pantokrator (p. 270), and may, like it, have been a library. _single hall churches._--the plans hitherto considered have all been characterised by the presence of aisles, galleries, or other spaces adjoining the central area. the churches of the present class consist simply of an oblong hall, terminating in an apse, and either roofed in wood, or covered with domes placed longitudinally, and resting to north and south on wall arches. examples of this plan are found in monastir mesjedi (p. 264), s. thekla (p. 211), bogdan serai (p. 284), and in the memorial chapels attached to the pantokrator (p. 235), and the chora (p. 309). in the case of these two memorial chapels, their narrow, long-stretched plan is evidently due to the desire to keep their eastern apses in line with the east end of the churches they adjoin, and at the same time to bring the western end to the narthex from which they were entered. they are covered with two domes, a system perhaps derived from s. irene (p. 94). kefelé mesjedi (p. 257), which at first sight resembles a single hall church roofed, in wood, was a refectory. its plan may be compared with that of the refectory at the monastery of s. luke at stiris.[24] ii. architectural features and details _apses._--a fully developed byzantine church terminated in three apses: a large apse, with the bema or presbytery, in the centre; on the right, the apse of the prothesis where the sacrament was prepared; on the left, the apse of the diaconicon, where the sacred vessels were kept. although there is proof that the prothesis and the diaconicon were in use at a very early period, yet many churches of the great period, as for example s. john of the studion, ss. sergius and bacchus, and s. sophia, dispensed with these chambers as distinct parts of the building. they were also omitted in small churches of a late date, where they were replaced by niches on either side of the bema. the three apses usually project from the east wall of the church, but occasionally (p. 248) the two lateral apses are sunk in the wall, and only the central apse shows on the exterior. as a rule the apses are circular within and polygonal without. it is rare to find them circular on both the interior and the exterior (p. 203), and in greece such a feature is generally an indication of late date. an octagonal plan, in which three sides of the octagon appear, sometimes with short returns to the wall, is the most common; but in later churches polygons of more sides are used, especially for the central apse, and these are often very irregularly set out. some of the churches of constantinople show five, and even seven sides. _bema._--the bema is rectangular, and sometimes has concave niches on each side (p. 130). it is covered either with a barrel or with a cross-groined vault, and communicates with the prothesis and the diaconicon. _prothesis and diaconicon._--these chambers are either square (p. 214) or have a long limb to the east resembling a miniature bema (p. 214). they are lower than the central apse and the cross arms, so that the cruciform figure of the church shows clearly above them on the exterior,[25] though in some churches with galleries small chapels overlooking the bema are placed above them at the gallery level (s. theodosia). they have usually a niche on three sides, and are either dome vaulted or have cross-groined vaults. the combination of a cross-groined vault with four niches springing from the vaulting level is particularly effective. in s. saviour in the chora (p. 307) these chambers are covered with drum domes, pierced with windows, but this treatment is quite exceptional. _the gynecaeum._--in the development of church building, the gynecaeum, or gallery for women, tends to become less and less important. in s. sophia, s. irene, and s. theodosia, the gallery is a part of the structure. in s. mary diaconissa (p. 185) it is reduced to four boxes at the angles of the cross, while in s. mary pammakaristos and ss. peter and mark it is absent (pp. 149, 193). but though no longer a structural part of the church, a gynecaeum appears over the narthex in the latest type of church (p. 215). it is generally vaulted in three bays, corresponding to the three bays of the narthex below, and opens by three arches into the centre cross arm of the church and into the aisles. _the narthex._--unlike the gynecaeum, the narthex tends in later times to become of greater importance, and to add a narthex was a favourite method of increasing the size of a church. in basilican churches, like s. john of the studion, the narthex was a long hall in three bays annexed to the west side of the building, and formed the east side of the atrium. in domed cross churches with galleries the passage under the western gallery was used as a narthex, being cut off from the central area by the screen arcade which supported the gallery. such a narthex has been styled a 'structural narthex,' as forming an essential part of the central building. it occurs in several of the churches of the city (p. 114). in domed cross churches without galleries, and in churches of the 'four column' type, neither narthex nor gallery was possible within the cross, and accordingly the narthex was added to the west end. it is usually in three bays and opens into the aisles and central area. frequently the ends of the narthex terminate in shallow niches (p. 198). in many churches a second narthex was added (p. 166) to the first, sometimes projecting an additional bay at each end, and communicating with halls or chapels on the north or south, or on both sides of the church (p. 128). s. mark's at venice presents a fine example of such an extension of the narthex. when a church could not be sufficiently enlarged by additional narthexes, a second church was built alongside the first, and both churches were joined by a narthex which extended along the front of the two buildings. s. mary panachrantos (p. 128) is a good example of how a church could be thus enlarged from a simple square building into a maze of passages and domes. _the interior._--the natural division, in height, of an early church, whether basilican or domical, was into three stories--the ground level, the gallery level, and the clearstory or vault level. in the west these structural divisions were developed into the triple composition of nave-arcade, triforium, and clearstory. in the east, in conjunction with the dome, these divisions survive in many examples of the later period. still, byzantine architecture was more concerned with spaces than with lines. large surfaces for marble, painting, or mosaic were of prime importance, and with the disappearance of the gallery the string-course marking the level of the gallery also tended to disappear. in churches with galleries, like s. theodosia (p. 170) and s. mary diaconissa (p. 185), the string-courses fulfil their function, the first marking the gallery level, the second the springing of the vault. in ss. peter and mark (p. 193), which has no gallery, there is only one string-course, corresponding in level to the original gallery string-course; accordingly the main arches are highly stilted above it. the absence of the second string-course is a faulty development, for a string-course at the vault level would be a functional member, whereas at the gallery level it is meaningless. in the panachrantos (p. 130), as well as in other churches without a gallery, the gallery string-course is omitted by a more logical development, and the string-course at the springing of the vault is retained. openings which do not cut into the vault are then frankly arched, without impost moulding of any kind. simple vaulted halls, narthexes, and passages have usually a string-course at the vaulting level, broken round shallow pilasters as at the chora, s. theodosia, and the myrelaion. sometimes the string-courses or the pilasters or both are omitted, and their places are respectively taken by horizontal and vertical bands. decorative pilasters flush with the wall are employed in the marble incrustation of s. sophia. in churches of the 'four column' type the full triple division is common but with a change in purpose. a gallery in a church of this character is not possible, for the piers between which the gallery was placed have dwindled into single shafts. hence the first string-course ceases to mark a gallery level and becomes the abacus level of the dome columns, as in the north and in the south churches of the pantokrator. it is then carried round the building, and forms the impost moulding of the side arches in the bema and of the east window. sometimes, however, it does not extend round the bema and apse but is confined to the central part of the church, as in the myrelaion, s. theodore, and the pantepoptes. on the other hand, in at least one case, the parecclesion of the pammakaristos, the central part of the chapel is designed in the usual three tiers, but the apse and bema vaults spring from the lower or abacus string-course, leaving a lunette in the dome arch above pierced by a large window. a corresponding lunette at the west end opens into the gynecaeum of the chapel. in s. john in trullo the two string-courses coalesce and the arches connecting the columns with the walls cut into the stilted part of the dome arches, with the result that all the structural arches and vaults spring from the same level. [illustration: fig. 7. (map of byzantine constantinople)] _arches._--though the pointed arch was known and employed in cisterns, as in the cistern of the one thousand and one columns, bin-bir-derek, the circular arch is invariably found in work meant to be seen. the difficulty attending this form, in which arches of unequal breadth do not rise to the same height, was overcome, as in the west, by stilting, that is, by raising the smaller arches on straight 'legs' to the required height. the stilted arch, indeed, seems to have been admired for its own sake, as we find it used almost universally both in vaulting and in decorative arches even where it was not structurally required. in windows and in the arches connecting the dome columns to the wall stilting is sometimes carried to extremes. _domes._--the eastern dome of s. irene, erected about 740 a.d., is generally considered to be the first example of a dome built on a high drum, though s. sophia of salonica, an earlier structure, has a low imperfect drum. after this date the characteristics of the byzantine dome are the high drum divided by ribs or hollow segments on the interior, polygonal on the exterior, and crowned by a cornice which is arched over the windows.[26] drumless domes are sometimes found in the later churches, as in the narthexes of the panachrantos and s. andrew, the angle domes of s. theodosia, and in bogdan serai. these are ribless hemispherical domes of the type shown in fig. 8, and are in all cases without windows. the earlier system of piercing windows through the dome does not occur in the later churches, though characteristic of turkish work. the three diagrams (figs. 8, 9, and 10) illustrate the development of the dome: firstly, the low saucer dome or dome-vault in which dome and pendentives are part of the same spherical surface; secondly, the hemispherical dome on pendentives; and thirdly, the hemispherical dome with a drum interposed between it and the pendentives. [illustration: fig. 8.--the saucer dome or dome-vault.] flat external cornices on the dome are not uncommon in the later churches of byzantine greece, as in s. sophia at monemvasia.[27] in constantinople only one dome with a flat cornice can be regarded as original, that of s. john in trullo, a church which is exceptional also in other respects. the many other domes in the churches of constantinople on high drums and with flat cornices are turkish either in whole or in part. the high ribless domes of the panachrantos, for instance, circular in plan within and without, with square-headed windows, plain stone sill, and flat cornice in moulded plaster, may be regarded as typical turkish drum-domes. as will appear in the sequel, the dome over the north church of the pantokrator and the domes of ss. peter and mark, the diaconissa, and s. theodosia, are also turkish. [illustration: fig. 9.--the dome on pendentives.] it is most unfortunate that the domes of these three domed cross churches have been altered, especially as the domes of s. mary diaconissa and s. theodosia are larger than any of the later domes except the large oval dome on the central church of the pantokrator which is almost of the same size. it is therefore now difficult to say what was the precise form of the original domes. most probably they were polygonal drum-domes, and their collapse owing to their size may well have led to the small drum-domes of later times. though not strictly byzantine these turkish domes are of interest as showing the development of byzantine forms under turkish rule, and that reversion to the earlier drumless dome which is so marked a feature of the imperial mosques of the city. [illustration: fig. 10.--the drum dome.] domes are either eight, twelve, or sixteen sided, and usually have a window in each side. these numbers arise naturally from setting a window at each of the cardinal points and then placing one, two, or three windows between, according to the size of the dome. internally the compartments are separated by broad, flat ribs, or are concave and form a series of ridges on the dome which die out towards the crown. in sixteen-sided domes of the latter type the alternate sides sometimes correspond to the piers outside, so that the dome which has sixteen sides within shows only eight sides without, as in the narthex of s. theodore (p. 246). the octagonal dome of the myrelaion (p. 198) seems to have had only four windows from the beginning. the ribs of a byzantine dome are not constructive in the same way as are the ribs of a gothic vault. they were built along with the rest of the dome and of the same material, and are in no way separate from the infilling, though they no doubt strengthened the shell of the dome by their form[28]. on the outside a circular shaft with a very simple cap is often placed at the angles of the piers, and from these shafts the brick cornice springs in a series of arches over the windows. sometimes the angle is formed by a point between two half-shafts, as in the domes of the narthex in s. theodore (p. 246). _external treatment._--in the older churches the exterior seems to have been left in simple masses of brickwork, impressive only by their size and proportion. probably even this effect was not considered of great importance. in later times a very beautiful system of decoration with slender shallow niches was introduced and was applied in particular to the east end and to the apses. the finest examples of this system on a large scale are seen at the pantokrator (p. 235) and s. theodosia (p. 173). carefully considered or elaborate external compositions are rare, and the only examples in constantinople are the side chapel of the pammakaristos (p. 154) and the narthex of s. theodore (p. 246). _external marble and mosaic._--marble and mosaic, we have reason to know, were occasionally used on the exterior of churches,[29] though no fragments remain. on the south side of the pantepoptes (p. 216) the string-course does not correspond to the line of the walls, but projects in a manner which shows that marble must have been employed to line the large windows. a similar projection of the string-course or cornice is not uncommon elsewhere, though not so evident as in the pantepoptes, and may have been made to receive a marble or mosaic lining. _doors and windows._--it is a primary rule in byzantine architecture that all constructive openings are arched. whatever may be the eventual form of a door or window the opening is first built in brick with a semicircular head, and into this opening the marble jambs and lining are fitted leaving a semicircular lunette above. doors are square-headed, with heavily moulded architraves and cornice, and the lintel is mitred into the jambs instead of having the more constructive horizontal joint used in the west. the doors made of wood or of wood lined with bronze, swing on top and bottom pivots which turned in bronze-lined sockets in lintel and threshold. they closed with a rebate in the jambs and against the raised threshold. windows were sometimes filled in a similar manner, as in the palace of the porphyrogenitus and in the north gallery of s. saviour in the chora (fig. 100). in the latter double windows or shutters were employed, opening inwards in the same way as did the doors. these shutters may perhaps be regarded as domestic, for in the churches, as is still seen in s. sophia though the arrangement has vanished elsewhere, the entire arched opening was usually filled in with a pierced marble grille. in addition to the simple round-headed windows double and triple windows are found. double windows were naturally formed by dividing the single arch by a central pier. this method presented two varieties: either the pier was continued up to the containing arch, thus giving two pointed lights, or the two lights were covered by separate arches within the main arch. both methods are used in the narthex of s. theodore (p. 247). another variety was produced by placing two single lights together, with a shaft between them instead of the central pier. but as double windows are not very satisfactory, triple windows are more common. in this case both the methods just described of forming the windows were adopted. a large semicircular opening divided by two piers will give an arched light between two pointed lights, or three arched lights, as in the narthex of s. theodore. in the former case, if shafts are substituted for the piers, a little adjustment will produce the beautiful form found in the side-chapels of the pammakaristos (p. 152), and of s. saviour in the chora (p. 310), where the two side lights are covered by half-arches whose crowns abut on the capitals of the shafts, while between and above them rises the semicircular head of the central light. the method of grouping three arched windows of the same height is adopted in apse windows, each of them occupying one side of the exterior. as the deep, narrow mullions are set radiating, the arch is narrower inside than outside. but this difficulty was overcome, partly by lowering the inner crowns, so that the arch is conical, partly by winding the surface. in the pantokrator (p. 238), instead of radiating to the centre of the apse, the side and mullions are placed parallel to the axis of the church, thus obviating all difficulty. generally the centre to which the mullions radiate is considerably beyond the apse, so that any necessary little adjustment of the arch could easily be made. triple windows supported on circular columns are not infrequent in the north and south cross arms. sometimes the central light is larger than the lateral lights, at other times, as in the pantepoptes, the three lights are equal. the lower part of these windows was probably filled in with a breastwork of carved slabs, as in s. sophia, while the upper part was filled by a pierced grille. at present the existing examples of these windows have been built up to the abaci of the capitals, but in the church of s. mary diaconissa (p. 186) the columns still show the original form on the inside. _vaulting._--all byzantine churches of any importance are vaulted in brick. the only exception to this rule in constantinople is the little church known as monastir mesjedi (p. 264). the different systems of byzantine vaulting have been so fully treated by choisy and other authorities, that in the absence of any large amount of new material it is not necessary to give here more than a few notes on the application of these systems in constantinople. it should always be kept in view that, as these vaults were constructed with the lightest of centering, the surfaces and curves must have been largely determined by the mason as he built, and would not necessarily follow any definite geometrical development. "il serait illusoire," remarks choisy, "d'attribuer à toutes les voutes byzantines un trace géométrique rigoureusement défini."[30] [illustration: plate ii. (1) the myrelaion (since it was burned), from the north-west. (2) the myrelaion (since it was burned), from the south-east. (by kind permission of h. m. dwight, esq.) _to face page 20._] the vaults commonly found are the barrel vault, the cross-groined vault, and the dome-vault. the first is frequently used over the cross arms and the bema, and sometimes over the narthex in conjunction with the groined vault (diaconissa). it is the simplest method of covering an oblong space, but it does not easily admit of side windows above the springing. a very beautiful form of cross-groined vault is found in s. sophia and in ss. sergius and bacchus, in which the crown is considerably domed, and the groins, accordingly, lose themselves in the vaulting surface. this form is found in greek churches of late date, but does not occur in the later churches of constantinople. a full description of the form and construction is given by choisy[31] and by lethaby and swainson.[32] the cross-groined vault as found in the myrelaion and many other churches of the city is level in the crown, with clearly marked groins. it is sometimes used with transverse arches resting on pilasters, or without these adjuncts. one of the most interesting of the vault forms is the dome-vault, a shallow dome with continuous pendentives. it is distinguished in appearance from the groined vault, as found in s. sophia, by the absence of any groin line, and is completely different in construction. the geometrical construction is that of the pendentives of all domes. the four supporting arches intersect a hemispherical surface whose diameter is equal to the diagonal of the supporting square. the pendentives produce at the crown line of the arches a circular plan which is filled in by a saucer dome of the same radius as the pendentives, constructed of circular brick rings, the joints of which radiate to the centre. if the space to be covered is not square the broader arches intersect at a higher level, while the narrow arches are not stilted, but kept down so as to receive the dome surface, and in this case the narrow arches are not semicircular, but segmental. where the difference in size between the two sides was not great, the difficulty presented was easily overcome by the byzantine builder, who in the later buildings, at any rate, rarely built anything within four inches of its geometrical position. where the difference was too great it was frankly accepted, and we find segmental arches at the narrow ends. [illustration: fig. 11.] the vaulting of the outer narthex of s. saviour in the chora illustrates this fully (fig. 11). though some of the bays of that narthex are oblong and others almost square all are covered with dome vaults. the almost square bays, although their sides vary considerably, are covered precisely as if their sides were exactly equal. but in two of the oblong bays, which are nearly three times as long as they are broad, such a method could not be applied. longitudinal arches (aa) were accordingly thrown between the transverse arches (cc) and made to rest on their spandrils. the oblong form of the intervening space was thus very much reduced, and over it flat domes are thrown. their rings are true circles, and as the space they cover is still somewhat oblong they descend lower, with additional segments of rings (bb), at the ends than at the sides. in the remaining two oblong bays of the narthex, the result of introducing the longitudinal arches is to convert a decidedly oblong space in one direction into a slightly oblong space in the opposite direction, an additional proof, if any were needed, that the exact shape of plan with this form of vault was a matter of comparative indifference to the builder. in s. sophia the vault springs from the intrados of the transverse arches, that is, from the lower edge. in ss. sergius and bacchus it springs from a point so slightly raised as to be hardly noticeable. in the later vaults, however, the transverse arches, when present, are boldly shown, and the vault springs from the extrados or outer edge (_e.g._ s. saviour in the chora, s. theodore). _construction._--most of the churches of the city are covered with thick coats of plaster and whitewash, both within and without. only in a few cases, where these coatings have fallen away through neglect, or in some remote corner of a building to which these coatings were never applied, can the construction and the laying of the brickwork be studied. the two-storied chapel, known as bogdan serai (p. 283), is almost denuded of plaster, and is therefore of importance in this connection. the bricks of the wall arches on which its dome rests are laid considerably flatter than the true radiating line, leaving a triangular piece to be filled in at the crown. on the other hand, the bricks of the transverse arches under the dome radiate to the centre. it has been supposed that the method followed in the wall arches was employed in order to economise centering, since bricks could gradually be worked out over the space, each course simply sticking to the one below. this is undoubtedly the case in some examples. but here centering could not have been of any service in the wall arches, and the transverse arches are laid without flattening of the courses, though that arrangement might have been useful in their case. it is therefore more probable that the flattening of the courses in the wall arches is simply a piece of careless workmanship. the pendentives, like all pendentives that could be examined, were formed of horizontal courses corbelled out to the circle. the dome, bema, and the barrel vault in the lower story (p. 285) seem to be laid with true radiating joints. the springing of the barrel vault is formed of four courses of stone laid horizontally and cut to the circle, and above them the entire barrel is of brick. the dome arches of the sanjakdar mesjedi (p. 270) are formed of three distinct rings, not bonded into one another. they radiate to the true centre, and the pendentives are, as usual, in horizontal courses. the transverse arches of the outer narthex in s. saviour in the chora are also built with true radiating courses. the gynecaeum of the side-chapel of the pammakaristos (p. 153) has never been plastered, and consequently the laying of the brickwork can be seen there to advantage. the little stair leading up to the gallery is covered with a sloping barrel vault built in segments perpendicular to the slope of the stair and could easily have been built without centering. the same remark applies to the cross vault at the head of the stair, which is similarly constructed in 'slices' parallel to each side (p. 154). the arches of the gynecaeum itself, the vaults, and the two little domes, seem to have true radiating joints. the ribs of the domes are formed in the brickwork, and are not structurally separate. in these last examples, and in all door and window openings, in which the joints invariably radiate from the centre, a certain amount of centering was inevitable. [illustration: plate iii. (1) the myrelaion (since it was burnt). interior, looking east. (by kind permission of h. m. dwight, esq.) (2) suleiman aga mesjedi, beside s. saviour pantokrator. _to face page 24._] on the other hand a little passage in s. saviour in the chora between the church and the parecclesion (p. 311), is covered with a barrel vault evidently built without centering. the space is first narrowed by two corbelled courses of stone and, above them, by three projecting courses of brick. from this springs the vault, built from each end in strongly inclined segments. these segments meet in the middle, leaving a diamond-shaped space filled in with longitudinal courses. like the stairs in the pammakaristos, this passage is very narrow, some 85 cm., yet the builders thought it necessary to corbel out five courses before venturing to throw a vault without centering. near the pantokrator is an octagonal building, now suleiman aga mesjedi but generally regarded as a byzantine library, which has on each side a large wall arch strongly elliptical in form (p. 270). two arches of somewhat similar form and apparently original are found in the south end of the gynecaeum of the pantokrator (p. 237). these arches may have been built in this manner to economise centering. still, in the library they are wall arches easily constructed without centering. failing the examination of a larger number of buildings in constantinople we can hardly judge of the later methods of vault and arch construction, but one point may be further noticed. the wall internally is often set back slightly at each spring course, so that with the projection of the course a considerable ledge or shelf is left. on this ledge centering could easily be supported and would have required no further framework to the ground. centering seems to have been used for dorm, arches, vaults, and door and window openings. it was not used in small vaults. but it is difficult to imagine any method of constructing such groined vaults as those found in the narthexes of the pantokrator without a very considerable amount of centering. _ties._--as a general rule tie rods or beams were used, either of iron or wood. in the latter case they were painted with leaf or fret ornaments, and were evidently considered as natural features. but large vaults are often found without such ties as in the narthex of the pantokrator. many churches have ties to the dome-arches, and none to the main vault; but it is difficult to lay down a fixed rule. the enormous amount of mortar in the walls must have made them yield to a certain degree when newly built, and some of the larger vaults would have been the better for rods. _abutments._--the system of abutments in the byzantine churches of the great period has been carefully studied by m. choisy.[33] in early examples the dome springs directly from the pendentives on the inside, but is thickened externally over the haunches, producing a double curve and an apparent drum. this is seen very clearly in ss. sergius and bacchus. in s. sophia the numerous windows are cut through this drum, so that it resembles rather a series of small abutments. the object was to support the crown of the dome by adding weight over the haunches. in both these churches the thrust of the dome and its supporting arches is taken by the two-storied galleries, which form, in fact, flying buttresses within the buildings, and are adapted to their architectural requirements. the square plan and the enormous size of the dome in s. sophia demanded the great buttresses on the sides; while in ss. sergius and bacchus the eight buttresses show only on the outside of the dome and are not carried over the aisles as they are in s. sophia. below the roof the arches and piers of the galleries and aisles are arranged so as to carry the thrust to the external walls, and following the tradition of roman vaulting all buttressing is internal. in s. irene, where the true drum dome first appears, the buttresses between the windows of the dome still remain, though much reduced in size. a dome raised on a drum can evidently no longer exercise a thrust against the dome-arches; its thrust must be taken by the drum, and only its weight can rest on the arches. the weight of the drum and dome rests on the pendentives and dome-arches. their thrust is neutralized by the use of ties and by the barrel vaults of the cross arms, and these in their turn depend on the thickness of the walls. the lower buildings attached to the church in the form of side-chapels and the narthex also helped to stiffen and buttress the cross walls. the system is by no means perfect in these late churches. it was apparently found impossible to construct drum domes of any size, except at the extreme risk of their falling in, and probably it is for this reason that many of the larger domes in late churches, like ss. peter and mark, s. theodosia, the chora, have fallen. no system of chainage appears to have been used for domes in constantinople. flying buttresses probably of the ninth century are used at the west end of s. sophia. the double-flying buttress to the apse of the chora does not bond with the building and is certainly not original. it may be set down as part of the byzantine restoration of the church in the fourteenth century. in any case, such external flying abutments are alien to the spirit of byzantine architecture, and may be regarded as an importation from the west. flying buttresses, it may here be noted, are not uncommon in the great mosques of the city. they are found in sultan bayazid, rustem pasha, sultan selim, the suleimanieh, and the shahzadé. but they are generally trifling in size, and are rather ornaments than serious attempts to buttress the dome. _walls._--the walls of the earlier churches are built of large thin bricks laid with mortar joints at least as thick as the bricks, and often of greater thickness. stone is used only in special cases, as in the main piers of s. sophia, but monolithic marble columns are an important part of the structure. in the later churches stone is used in courses with the bricks to give a banded effect, and herring-bone, diamond, and radiating patterns are frequently introduced. the palace of the porphyrogenitus, the parecclesion of the pammakaristos, and bogdan serai, exhibit this style of work. as illustrations of the method adopted in the construction of walls the following measurements may be given, the sizes being in centimetres: +---------------------------------------+----------+--------------+ | | brick. | joint. | +---------------------------------------+----------+--------------+ | parecclesion of the pammakaristos | .08 | .04 | | 4 courses brick, 5 joints | .46 | -- | | s. john in trullo | .03 | .07 to .09 | | refectory of the monastery of manuel | .04 | .04 to .06 | | 4 course stone, 3 joints | .78 | -- | | 4 courses brick, 5 joints | .30 | -- | | | { .0375 | .052 | | bogdan serai | { .035 | .035 | | | { .04 | .04 | | 4 courses stone, 8 joints | -- | .55 to .60 | | 4 courses brick, 5 joints | -- | .43 to .47 | | sanjakdar, brick | .045 | -- | +---------------------------------------+----------+--------------+ _building procedure._--the first step in the erection of a building was to obtain the necessary marble columns with their capitals and bases. these seem to have been largely supplied ready made, and constantinople was a great centre for the manufacture and export of stock architectural features. then the main walls were built in brick, the columns were inserted as required, the vaults were thrown, and the whole building was left to settle down. owing to the enormous amount of mortar used this settling must have been very considerable, and explains why hardly a plumb wall exists in constantinople, and why so many vaults show a pronounced sinking in at the crown or have fallen in and have been rebuilt. after the walls had set the marble facings, mosaic, and colour were applied and could be easily adapted to the irregular lines of the walls. byzantine architecture made little use of mouldings. the great extension of flat and spacious decoration rendered unnecessary, or even objectionable, any strong line composition. external cornices are in coursed brick, the alternate courses being laid diagonally so as to form the characteristic dentil. the richest form is that found in the pammakaristos, s. theodosia, and s. thekla, where the small dentil cornice is supported on long tapering corbels, a design suggested by military machicolations. [illustration: plate iv. (1) s. saviour in the chora. bracket in the inner narthex. (2) s. theodore. sculptured marble slab built into the minaret of the mosque. (3) s. mary diaconissa. heads of windows in south arm. (4) s. mary diaconissa. sculptured slab on the west wall. _to face page 28._] the stone ogee, cavetto, or cavetto and bead cornice is common, but seems in every case to be turkish work and is very common in turkish buildings. internal cornices and string-courses are in marble, and are all of the same type, a splay and fillet. the splayed face is decorated with upright leaves or with a guilloche band, either carved (in the pantepoptes) or painted (in the chora), the carving as in classic work, serving only to emphasise the colour. the splay is sometimes slightly hollowed, sometimes, as in the chora, worked to an ogee. _doors._--doors often have elaborately moulded architraves and cornice. in s. john of the studion (p. 61), the oldest example, the jamb-moulding has a large half-round on the face, with small ogees and fillets, all on a somewhat massive scale. the doors of s. sophia are very similar. the later mouldings are lighter but the half-round on the face remains a prominent feature. it is now undercut and reduced in size, and resembles the gothic moulding known as the bowtell. this is combined with series of fillets, small ogees, and cavettos into jamb-moulds of considerable richness. the cornices are often simply splayed or are formed of a series of ogees, fillets, and cavettos. the jamb-mouldings are cut partly on a square and partly on a steep splayed line. in some, the portion forming the ingo seems to have been regarded as a separated piece though cut from the solid. if in the doors of the pantokrator or the pantepoptes the line of the inner jamb be continued through the rebate, it will correspond on the outside with the bowtell moulding, as though the inner and outer architrave had been cut from one square-edged block, placing the bowtell at the angle and adding the rebate. this formation is not followed in s. john of the studion. _carving._--carving is slight, and is confined to capitals, string-courses, and the slabs which filled in the lower parts of screens and windows. fragments of such slabs are found everywhere. they are carved with geometrical interlacing and floral patterns, often encircling a cross or sacred monogram, or with simply a large cross. such slabs may be seen still in position in s. sophia and in the narthex of s. theodore. in the latter they are of verd antique, and are finely carved on both sides. in later times the embargo on figure sculpture was considerably relaxed. little figures are introduced in the cornices of the eikon frames in the diaconissa (p. 186), and both in the parecclesion and the outer narthex of the chora are found many small busts of angels, saints, and warriors carved with great delicacy. the carving in the chora is the finest work of the kind excepting that in s. sophia. _capitals._--the development of the capital from the roman form, which was suitable only for the lintel, to the impost capital shaped to receive an arch has been well explained by lethaby and swainson. according to these authors byzantine capitals exhibit seven types. i. the impost capital.--it is found in ss. sergius and bacchus, the outer narthex of the chora, the inner narthex of s. andrew and elsewhere. a modification of this type is used in windows. it was employed throughout the style but especially in early times up to the sixth century, and again in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries. ii. the melon type.--this is seen on the columns of the lower order in ss. sergius and bacchus and on the columns of the narthex of s. theodore, where they have been taken from an older building. the melon capital was probably not in use after the sixth century. iii. the bowl capital.--this type is used in the great order of s. sophia at constantinople. it has been thought peculiar to this church, but the capitals from s. stephen at triglia in bithynia resemble those of s. sophia closely. only the peculiar volutes of the s. sophia capitals are absent.[34] iv. the byzantine or 'pseudo-ionic.'--this is found in the upper order of ss. sergius and bacchus, and in the narthex of s. andrew. it is an early type, not used after the sixth century, and its occurrence in s. andrew favours the early date assigned to that church. v. the bird and basket.--found in constantinople, only in s. sophia. vi. the byzantine corinthian.--this is the commonest form of capital in the later churches, and must have been in continuous use from the earliest date. it occurs in s. john of the studion, the diaconissa, the chora, and in many other churches. here the classic form is accurately adhered to, but, as the curved abacus was unsuitable to the arch, a large splayed abacus or impost block is placed above the capital. it is a general feature of the byzantine capital that it projects at no point beyond the impost line of the arch, thus differing both from the classic and the gothic forms. vii. the windblown acanthus.--this is found in the churches of salonica and ravenna. three examples are mentioned as seen in constantinople, two near the diaconissa, forming bases for the posts of a wooden porch to a house; one is the cistern commonly known as the cistern of pulcheria. _window capitals._--in shafted window of several lights, the impost piers between the arches are of the full thickness of the wall, but are very narrow from side to side. similarly the shafts are almost slabs placed across the wall, and sometimes, as in the pammakaristos, are carved on their narrow faces. the capitals are cubical, of slight projection at the sides, but spreading widely at the ends, while the bases closely resemble capitals turned upside down. as with columns, the joints at base and necking are bedded in sheet lead. _floors._--the floors are usually of thick red brick tiles, some .31 cm. square, or, as in s. theodore, hexagonal, .34 cm. across by 45 cm. from point to point. marble floors were used when possible, inlaid with patterns, or in slabs surrounded by borders of coloured marbles, as is still seen in a portion of the floor in the pantokrator (fig. 76). _decoration._--of the churches of constantinople only s. sophia, s. mary diaconissa, the south church of the pantokrator, and the chora, retain any considerable part of their original decoration. the first is beyond our present scope, but from the general tone and atmosphere which still linger there we are able to appreciate the effect of the same style of decoration where it survives in less complete form. the accepted method, as may be observed in the chora and the diaconissa, was to split marble slabs so as to form patterns in the veining, and then to place them upright on the wall. it is probable that the finest slabs were first placed in the centre points of the wall, and that other slabs or borders were then arranged round them. the centre slabs in the chora are of exceptional beauty. the usual design consists of a dado of upright slabs surmounted by panelling to the cornice level, the panels being outlined with plain or carved beads. in the diaconissa the notched dentil form is used for the beads; in the chora, a 'bead and reel.' the arches have radiating voussoirs, or, in the diaconissa, a zigzag embattled design, found also in s. demetrius of salonica, though two hundred years must have separated the buildings. in the chora the arch spandrils and cornice are inlaid with scroll and geometrical designs in black, white, and coloured marbles. the surfaces above the cornice and the interior of the domes gleamed with mosaic, representing, as seen in the chora, figures on a gold background. the mosaic cubes are small, measuring 5 mm. to 7 mm., and are closely set. this is about the same size as the mosaic cubes in s. sophia, but smaller than those at ravenna, which measure about 10 mm. _painting._--in the majority of churches this full decoration with marble and mosaic must have been rendered impossible by the expense, and accordingly we find examples like the parecclesion at the chora decorated with painting, following exactly the tradition of marble and mosaic. this painting is in tempera on the plaster, and is executed with a free and bold touch. _conclusion._--byzantine architecture is essentially an art of spaces. 'architectural' forms, as we are accustomed to think of them, are noticeably absent, but as compensation, colour was an essential and inseparable part of the architecture. the builder provided great uninterrupted spaces broken only by such lines and features as were structurally necessary--capitals, columns, string-courses, and over these spaces the artist spread a glittering robe of marble or mosaic. no school has ever expressed its structure more simply, or given fuller scope to the artist, whether architect or painter. byzantine architecture is not only a school of construction, it is also a school of painting. most of the churches of constantinople have unfortunately lost the latter part of their personality. they are mere ghosts, their skeletons wrapped in a shroud of whitewash. still the greek artist retained his skill to the last, and the decorative work of s. saviour in the chora will stand comparison even with the similar work in s. sophia. in byzantine times the greatness of s. sophia tended to crush competition. no other ecclesiastical building approached the 'great church.' but structural ability was only latent, and displayed its old power again in the erection of the imperial mosques of the early turkish sultans, for they too are monuments of greek architectural genius. the origins of byzantine architecture have been discussed at great length by strzygowski, rivoira, and many other able writers. much work still remains to be done in the investigation of the later roman and early byzantine work; nor does it seem probable that the difficult questions of the eastern or the western origin of byzantine art will ever be finally settled. the beginnings of byzantine architecture have never been satisfactorily accounted for. with s. sophia it springs almost at once into full glory; after s. sophia comes the long decline. it may, however, be noted that the 'endings' of roman architecture are similarly obscure. such buildings as the colosseum, in which the order is applied to an arched building, are evidently transitional, the roman construction and the greek decoration, though joined, not being merged into one perfect style. even in the baths and other great buildings of imperial rome the decoration is still greek in form and not yet fully adapted to the arched construction. at spalatro, in such parts as the porta aurea, a developed style seems to be on the point of emerging, but it is not too much to say that in no great roman building do we find a perfect and homogeneous style. there is nothing in either the planning or the construction of s. sophia which cannot be derived from the buildings of the roman imperial period, with the exception of the pendentive, a feature which had to be evolved before the dome could be used with freedom on any building plan on a square. the great brick-concrete vaulted construction is that of the roman baths, and with this is united a system of decoration founded on the classic models, but showing no trace of the greek beam tradition which had ruled in rome. s. sophia then may be regarded as the culminating point of one great roman-byzantine school, of which the art of classic rome shows the rise, and the later byzantine art the decline. this view is in accord with history, for constantinople was new rome, and here, if anywhere, we should expect to find preserved the traditions of old rome. the division of western mediaeval architecture into the two schools of romanesque and gothic presents a parallel case. it is now realised that no logical separation can be made between the two so-called styles. similarly we may continue to speak of the classic roman style and of the byzantine style, although the two really belong to one great era in the history of art. [10] _eastern palestine memoirs_, p. 172. a similar dome is given by choisy, _l'art de bâtir chez les byzantins_, plate xv. [11] de vogüé, _syrie centrale_, i. p. 45, plate vii. [12] dürm, _handbuch_, part ii. vol. iii. pp. 115, 149. a restored plan is given in lethaby's _mediaeval art_, p. 47. [13] _orient oder rom_, p. 19. [14] _kleinasien_, p. 152. [15] _kleinasien_, p. 121 _et seq._ [16] oskar wulf, _die koimesiskirche in nikaea_, p. 71. [17] h. rott, _kleinasiensche denkmäler_, p. 329. [18] wulf, _op. cit._ p. 23. [19] for local variations in late churches in greece, see traquair's 'churches of western mani,' _annual of british school at athens_, xv. 1908. [20] strzygowski, 'das etschmiadzin evangeliar,' _byzant. denkmäler_, i., 1891. [21] ravanica, f. kanitz, _serbiens byzantische monumente_, wien, 1862. [22] pullan and texier, _s. elias._ [23] g. lampakis, _les antiquités chrétiennes de la grèce_, athens, 1902. [24] schultz and barnsley, _the monastery of s. luke at stiris_, p. 13, fig. 6. [25] see, however, north church in s. mary, panachrantos, p. 128. [26] strzygowski's views as to the early date of the drum-dome are not universally accepted. the examples he produces seem rather octagons carried up from the ground to give a clearstory under the dome than true drums interposed between the dome and its pendentives. [27] _annual b.s.a._ xii. 1905-6. see also schultz and barnsley, _monastery of s. luke at stiris_. [28] see p. 154. [29] dome of the rock at jerusalem. s. mary peribleptos; see _vida de gran tamorlan y itinerario del ruy gonzalez de clavijo_, p. 52. [30] _l'art de bâtir chez les byzantins_, p. 57. [31] _ibid._ p. 99. [32] _sancta sophia_, p. 219. [33] _l'art de bâtir chez les byzantins_, p. 135. [34] hasluck, 'bithynica,' _annual b.s.a._ xiii. 1906-7. chapter ii the church of s. john the baptist of the studion, emir ahor jamissi the mosque emir ahor jamissi, situated in the quarter of psamathia, near the modern greek church of s. constantine, and at short distance from the golden gate (yedi koulé), is the old church of s. john the baptist, which was associated with the celebrated monastery of studius, [greek: hê monê tou stoudiou]. it may be reached by taking the train from sirkiji iskelessi to psamathia or yedi koulé.[35] in favour of the identification of the building, there is, first, the authority of tradition,[36] which in the case of a church so famous may be confidently accepted as decisive. in the next place, all indications of the character and position of the studion, however vague, point to emir ahor jamissi as the representative of that church. for the mosque presents the characteristic features which belonged to the studion as a basilica of the fifth century, and stands where that sanctuary stood, in the district at the south-western angle of the city,[37] and on the left hand of the street leading from s. mary peribleptos (soulou monastir) to the golden gate.[38] furthermore, as held true of the studion, the mosque is in the vicinity of the golden gate,[39] and readily accessible from a gate and landing (narli kapou) on the shore of the sea of marmora.[40] according to the historian theophanes,[41] the church was erected in the year 463 by the patrician studius, after whom the church and the monastery attached to it were named. he is described as a roman of noble birth and large means who devoted his wealth to the service of god,[42] and may safely be identified with studius who held the consulship in 454 during the reign of marcian.[43] if we may trust the anonymus,[44] the church erected by studius replaced a sanctuary which stood at one time, like the chora, outside the city. seeing the territory immediately beyond the constantinian fortifications was well peopled before its inclusion within the city limits by theodosius ii., there is nothing improbable in the existence of such extra-mural sanctuaries, and as most, if not all, of them would be small buildings, they would naturally require enlargement or reconstruction when brought within the wider bounds of the capital. according to suidas,[45] the building was at first a parochial church; its attachment to a monastery was an after-thought of its founder. the monastery was large and richly endowed, capable of accommodating one thousand monks.[46] its first inmates were taken from a fraternity known as the akoimeti, 'the sleepless'; so named because in successive companies they celebrated divine service in their chapels day and night without ceasing, like the worshippers in the courts of heaven. [illustration: plate v. (1) s. john of the studion. ruined interior, seen from the minaret of the mosque. (2) s. john of the studion, from the west. _to face page 36._] 'even thus of old our ancestors, within the still domain of vast cathedral or conventual church their vigils kept: where tapers day and night on the dim altar burned continually. in token that the house was ever more watching to god. religious men were they; nor would their reason, tutored to aspire above this transitory world, allow that there should pass a moment of the year when in their land the almighty's service ceased.' but this devout practice does not seem to have been long continued at the studion; for we never hear of it in any account of the discipline of the house. the monks of the studion should therefore not be identified with the akoimeti who took up such a determined and independent attitude in the theological conflicts under zeno, basiliscus, and justinian the great.[47] in the course of its history the church underwent noteworthy repairs on two occasions. it was first taken in hand for that purpose, soon after the middle of the eleventh century,[48] by the emperor isaac comnenus (1057-58), who was interested in the house because he and his brother had received part of their education in that 'illustrious and glorious school of virtue.'[49] what the repairs then made exactly involved is unfortunately not stated. but, according to scylitzes, they were so extensive that 'to tell in detail what the emperor and empress did for the embellishment of the church would surpass the labour of hercules.'[50] probably they concerned chiefly the decoration of the edifice. the next repairs on record were made about the year 1290, in the reign of andronicus ii., by his unfortunate brother constantine porphyrogenitus. owing to the neglect of the building during the latin occupation the roof had fallen in, the cells of the monks had disappeared, and sheep grazed undisturbed on the grass which covered the grounds. constantine, rich, generous, fond of popularity, did all in his power to restore the former glory of the venerated shrine. the new roof was a remarkable piece of work; large sums were spent upon the proper accommodation of the monks, and the grounds were enclosed within strong walls.[51] like other monastic institutions, the studion suffered greatly at the hands of the iconoclast emperors. under constantine copronymus, indeed, the fraternity was scattered to the winds and practically suppressed, so that only twelve old members of the house were able to take advantage of the permission to return to their former home, upon the first restoration of eikons in 787 by the empress irene. under these circumstances a company of monks, with the famous abbot theodore at their head, were eventually brought from the monastery of saccudio to repeople the studion, and with their advent in 799 the great era in the history of the house began, the number of the monks rising to seven hundred, if not one thousand.[52] theodore had already established a great reputation for sanctity and moral courage. for when constantine vi. repudiated the empress maria and married theodote, one of her maids of honour, theodore, though the new empress was his relative, denounced the marriage and the priest who had celebrated it, insisting that moral principles should govern the highest and lowest alike, and for this action he had gladly endured scourging and exile. the studion had, therefore, a master who feared the face of no man, and who counted the most terrible sufferings as the small dust of the balance when weighed against righteousness, and under him the house became illustrious for its resistance to the tyranny of the civil power in matters affecting faith and morals. when the emperor nicephorus ordered the restoration of the priest who had celebrated the marriage of constantine vi. with theodote, not only did theodore and his brother joseph, bishop of thessalonica, and their venerable uncle plato, endure imprisonment and exile, but every monk in the studion defied the emperor. summoning the fraternity into his presence, nicephorus bade all who would obey his order go to the right, and all who dared to disobey him go to the left. not a single man went to the right. under the very eyes of the despot all went to the left, and in his wrath nicephorus broke up the community and distributed the monks among various monasteries. upon the accession of michael i. the exiled monks and theodore were allowed indeed to return to the studion, peace being restored by the degradation of the priest who had celebrated the obnoxious marriage. but another storm darkened the sky, when leo v., the armenian, in 813, renewed the war against eikons. theodore threw himself into the struggle with all the force of his being as their defender. he challenged the right of the imperial power to interfere with religious questions; he refused to keep silence on the subject; and on palm sunday, in 815, led a procession of his monks carrying eikons in their hands in triumph round the monastery grounds. again he was scourged and banished. but he could not be subdued. by means of a large and active correspondence he continued an incessant and powerful agitation against the iconoclasts of the day. nor would he come to terms with michael ii., who had married a nun, and who allowed the use of eikons only outside the capital. so theodore retired, apparently a defeated man, to the monastery of acritas[53]; and there, 'on sunday, 11 november 826, and about noon, feeling his strength fail, he bade them light candles and sing the 119th psalm, which seems to have been sung at funerals. at the words: "i will never forget thy commandments, for with them thou hast quickened me," he passed away.' he was buried on the island of prinkipo, but eighteen years later, when eikons were finally restored in the worship of the orthodox church, his body was transferred to the studion, and laid with great ceremony in the presence of the empress theodora beside the graves of his uncle plato and his brother joseph, in sign that after all he had conquered.[54] _tandem hic quiescit._ note his remains were interred at the east end of the southern aisle, where his uncle plato and his brother joseph had been buried before him, and where naucratius and nicholas, his successors as abbots of the studion, were laid to rest after him. [greek: pros tô dexiô merei en tô kat' anatolas tou prodromikou temenous pandoxô kai hierô tôn martyrôn sêkô, entha dê kai tou hosiou patros hêmôn theodôrou hê paneukleês kai pansebastos timia thêkê kathidrytai] (_vita s. nicolai studitae_, migne, _p.g._ tome 105). there, in fact, during the recent russian exploration of the church, three coffins were discovered: one containing a single body, another four bodies, and another three bodies. the grave had evidently been disturbed at some time, for some of the bodies had no head, and all the coffins lay under the same bed of mortar. no marks were found by which to identify the persons whose remains were thus brought to view. but there can be no doubt that five of the bodies belonged to the five persons mentioned above. to whom the three other bodies belonged is a matter of pure conjecture. they might be the remains of three intimate friends of theodore, viz. athanasius, euthemius, timotheus, or more probably of the abbots, sophronius (851-55), achilles (858-63), theodosius (863-64). cf. _itin. russes_, p. 100. it would be a mistake, however, to think of theodore only as a controversalist and defier of the civil authority. he was a deeply religious man, a pastor of souls, and he revived the religious and moral life of men, far and wide, not only in his own day, but long after his life on earth had closed. he made the studion the centre of a great spiritual influence, which never wholly lost the impulse of his personality or the loftiness of his ideal. the forms of mediæval piety have become antiquated, and they were often empty and vain, but we must not be blind to the fact that they were frequently filled with a passion for holy living, and gave scope for the creation of characters which, notwithstanding their limitations, produced great and good men. [illustration: plate vi. (1) s. john of the studion. façade of the narthex. (2) s. john of the studion. the ruined interior: west end of the north side. _to face page 40._] speaking of eastern monks and abbots, especially during the eighth and ninth centuries, mr. finlay, the historian, justly remarks that 'the manners, the extensive charity, and the pure morality of these abbots, secured them the love and admiration of the people, and tended to disseminate a higher standard of morality than had previously prevailed in constantinople. this fact must not be overlooked in estimating the various causes which led to the regeneration of the eastern empire under the iconoclast emperors. while the pope winked at the disorders in the palace of charlemagne, the monks of the east prepared the public mind for the dethronement of constantine vi. because he obtained an illegal divorce and formed a second marriage. the corruption of monks and the irregularities prevalent in the monasteries of the west contrast strongly with the condition of the eastern monks.' certainly to no one is this tribute of praise due more than to the brotherhood in the monastery of studius. the monks of the studion, like most greek monks, lived under the rules prescribed by s. basil for the discipline of men who aspired to reach 'the angelic life.' theodore, however, quickened the spirit which found expression in those rules, and while inculcating asceticism in its extremest form, showed greater consideration for the weakness of human nature. the penalties he assigned for transgressions were on the whole less draconian than those inflicted before his time. according to the moral ideal cherished in the monastery, the true life of man was to regard oneself but dust and ashes, and, like the angels, to be ever giving god thanks. if a monk repined at such a lot, he was to castigate himself by eating only dry bread for a week and performing 500 acts of penance. the prospect of death was always to be held in view. often did the corridors of the monastery resound with the cry, 'we shall die, we shall die!' the valley of the shadow of death was considered the road to life eternal. a monk could not call even a needle his own. nor were the clothes he wore his personal property. they were from time to time thrown into a heap with the clothes of the other members of the house, and every monk then took from the pile the garment most convenient to his hand. female animals were forbidden the monastery. a monk was not allowed to kiss his mother, not even at easter, under penalty of excommunication for fifty days. daily he attended seven services, and had often to keep vigil all night long. there was only one set meal a day; anything more in the way of food consisted of the fragments which a monk laid aside from that meal. no meat was eaten unless by special permission for reasons of health. if a brother ate meat without permission he went without fish, eggs, and cheese for forty days. the ordinary food consisted of vegetables cooked in oil. fish, cheese, and eggs were luxuries. two, sometimes three, cups of wine were permitted. if a brother was so unfortunate as to break a dish, he had to stand before the assembled monks at dinner time with covered head, and hold the broken article in view of all in the refectory.[55] it was forbidden to a monk to feel sad. melancholy was a sin, and was to be overcome by prayer, one hundred and fifty genuflexions, and five hundred kyrie eleisons a day. the monks were required to read regularly in the monastery library.[56] the task of copying manuscripts occupied a place of honour, and was under strict regulations. fifty genuflexions were the penalty prescribed for not keeping one's copy clean; one hundred and fifty such acts of penance for omitting an accent or mark of punctuation; thirty, for losing one's temper and breaking his pen; fasting on dry bread was the fate of the copyist guilty of leaving out any part of the original, and three days' seclusion for daring to trust his memory instead of following closely the text before him.[57] ignatius of smolensk[58] found russian monks in the monastery employed in transcribing books for circulation in russia. stephen of novgorod[59] met two old friends from his town busy copying the scriptures. a good monastic scriptorium rendered an immense service; it did the work of the printing-press. yet, notwithstanding all restrictions, men could be happy at the studion. one of its inmates for instance congratulates himself thus on his lot there, 'no barbarian looks upon my face; no woman hears my voice. for a thousand years no useless ([greek: apraktos]) man has entered the monastery of studius; none of the female sex has trodden its court. i dwell in a cell that is like a palace; a garden, an oliveyard, and a vineyard surround me. before me are graceful and luxuriant cypress trees. on one hand is the city with its market-place; on the other, the mother of churches and the empire of the world.'[60] hymnology was likewise cultivated at the studion, many hymns of the greek church being composed by theodore and his brother joseph. two abbots of the monastery became patriarchs: antony (975),[61] and alexius (1025),[62] the latter on the occasion when he carried the great relic of the studion, the head of john the baptist, to basil ii. lying at the point of death.[63] at least as early as the reign of alexius i. comnenus, the abbot of the studion held the first place among his fellow-abbots in the city. his precedence is distinctly recognised in a patriarchal act of 1381 as a right of old standing.[64] the spirit of independence which characterized the monastery did not die with the abbot theodore. the monks of the studion were the most stubborn opponents of the famous photius who had been elevated to the patriarchal throne directly from the ranks of the laity, and in the course of the conflict between him and the monks during the first tenure of his office for ten years, the abbots of the house were changed five times. indeed, when photius appointed santabarenus as the abbot, a man accused of being a manichaean, and who professed to be able to communicate with departed spirits, many of the monks, if not all of them, left their home. nor was this the last assertion of the freedom of conscience for which this monastery was distinguished, and which makes it memorable in history. like other monasteries the studion often served as a place of correction for offenders whom it was expedient to render harmless without recourse to the extreme rigour of the law. santabarenus, who has just been mentioned, was sent in his wild youth, after narrowly escaping a sentence of death at the hands of the caesar bardas, to this monastery in the hope of being reformed in the orthodox atmosphere of the house. in the reign of leo vi. (826-912), an official named mousikos was sent hither to be cured of the propensity to accept bribes.[65] in 912, gregoras and choirosphacta were obliged to join the brotherhood to repent at leisure for having favoured the attempt of constantine ducas, domestic of the scholae, to usurp the throne of constantine vii. porphyrogenitus when seven years of age.[66] [illustration: plate vii. (1) s. john of the studion. entablature and anta capital in the narthex. (2) s. john of the studion. cornice in the narthex, looking up. _to face page 44._] several emperors sought the shelter of the studion as a refuge from danger, or as a retreat from the vanity of the world. thither, in 1041, michael v. and his uncle constantine fled from the popular fury excited by their deposition of the empress zoe and the slaughter of three thousand persons in the defence of the palace. the two fugitives made for the monastery by boat, and betook themselves to the church for sanctuary. but as soon as the place of their concealment became known, an angry crowd forced a way into the building to wreak vengeance upon them, and created a scene of which psellus has left us a graphic account. upon hearing the news of what was going on, he and an officer of the imperial guard mounted horse and galloped to the studion. a fierce mob was madly attempting to pull down the structure, and it was with the utmost difficulty that the two friends managed to enter the church and make their way to the altar. the building seemed full of wild animals, glaring with eyes on fire at their victims, and making the air resound with the most terrible cries. michael was on his knees clasping the holy table; constantine stood on the right; both were dressed like monks, and their features were so transformed by terror as to be almost beyond recognition. the spectacle of greatness thus brought low was so pathetic that psellus burst into tears and sobbed aloud. but the crowd only grew more fierce, and drew nearer and nearer to the fugitives as though to rend them in pieces. only a superstitious dread restrained it from laying hands upon them in a shrine so sacred and venerated. the uproar lasted for hours, the mob content meanwhile with striking terror and making flight impossible. at length, late in the afternoon, the prefect of the city appeared upon the scene, accompanied by soldiers and followed by large crowds of citizens. he came with instructions to bring michael and constantine out of the church. in vain did he try the effect of mild words and promises of a gentle fate. the fallen emperor and his uncle clung to the altar more desperately. the prefect then gave orders that the two wretched men should be dragged forth by main force. they gripped the altar yet more tightly, and in piteous tones invoked the aid of all the eikons in the building. the scene became so heartrending that most of the spectators interfered on behalf of the victims of misfortune, and only by giving solemn assurance that they would not be put to death was the prefect allowed to proceed to their arrest. michael and constantine were then dragged by the feet as far as the sigma, above s. mary peribleptos (soulou monastir), and after having their eyes burnt out were banished to different monasteries, to muse on the vanity of human greatness and repent of their misdeeds.[67] the studion appears in the final rupture of the eastern and western churches.[68] the immediate occasion was a letter sent by the archbishop of achrida, in 1053, to the bishop of trani, condemning the church of rome for the use of unleavened bread in the administration of the holy communion, and for allowing a fast on saturday. nicetas stethetos (pectoratus), a member of the house renowned for his asceticism, and for his courage in reproving the scandalous connection of constantine ix. with sklerena, wrote a pamphlet, in latin, in which, in addition to the charges against rome made by the archbishop of achrida, the enforced celibacy of the clergy was denounced. the pamphlet was widely circulated by the patriarch kerularios, who wished to bring the dispute between the churches to an issue. but the emperor not being prepared to go so far, invited the pope to send three legates to constantinople to settle the differences which disturbed the christian world. cardinal humbert, one of the legates, replied to nicetas in the most violent language of theological controversy, and to bring matters to a conclusion an assembly, which was attended by the emperor constantine, his court, and the papal legates, met at the studion on the 24th of june 1054. a greek translation of the pamphlet composed by nicetas was then read, and after the discussion of the subject, nicetas retracted his charges and condemned all opponents of the roman church. his pamphlet was, moreover, thrown into the fire by the emperor's orders, and on the following day he called upon the papal legates, who were lodged at the palace of the pegé (baloukli), and was received into the communion of the church he had lately denounced. but the patriarch was not so fickle or pliant. he would not yield an iota, and on the 15th of july 1054 cardinal humbert laid on the altar of s. sophia the bull of excommunication against kerularios and all his followers, which has kept western and eastern christendom divided to this day. when michael vii. (1067-78) saw that the tide of popular feeling had turned against him in favour of nicephorus botoniates, he meekly retired to this house, declining to purchase a crown with cruelty by calling upon the varangian guards to defend his throne with their battle-axes. michael was appointed bishop of ephesus, but after paying one visit to his diocese he returned to constantinople and took up his abode in the monastery of manuel (p. 257).[69] to the studion, where he had studied in his youth and which he had embellished, the emperor isaac comnenus retired, when pleurisy and the injuries he received while boar-hunting made him realize that he had but a short time to live. in fact, he survived his abdication for one year only, but during that period he proved a most exemplary monk, showing the greatest deference to his abbot, and besides performing other lowly duties acted as keeper of the monastery gate. how thoroughly he was reconciled to the exchange of a throne for a cell appears in the remark made to his wife, who had meantime taken the veil at the myrelaion, 'acknowledge that when i gave you the crown i made you a slave, and that when i took it away i set you free.' his widow commemorated his death annually at the studion, and on the last occasion surprised the abbot by making a double offering, saying, 'i may not live another year,' a presentiment which proved true. according to her dying request, aecatherina was buried in the cemetery of the studion, 'as a simple nun, without any sign to indicate that she was born a bulgarian princess and had been a roman empress.'[70] on the occasion of the triumphal entry of michael palaeologus into the city in 1261, the emperor followed the eikon of the theotokos hodegetria, to whom the recovery of the empire was attributed, on foot as far as the studion; and there, having placed the eikon in the church, he mounted horse to proceed to s. sophia.[71] one of the sons of sultan bajazet was buried at the studion.[72] the prince had been sent by the sultan as a hostage to the byzantine court, and being very young attended school in constantinople with john, the son of the emperor manuel. there he acquired a taste for greek letters, and became a convert to the christian faith; but for fear of the sultan's displeasure he was long refused permission to be baptized. only when the young man lay at the point of death, in 1417, a victim to the plague raging in the city, was the rite administered, his schoolmate and friend acting as sponsor. a tombstone from the cemetery of the monastery is built into the turkish wall at the north-eastern corner of the church. it bears an epitaph to the following effect:--'in the month of september of the year 1387, fell asleep the servant of god, dionysius the russian, on the sixth day of the month.' the patrician bonus, who defended the city against the avars in 627, while the emperor heraclius was absent dealing with the persians, was buried at the studion.[73] on the festival of the decapitation of s. john the baptist, the emperor attended service at the studion in great state. early in the morning the members of the senate assembled therefore at the monastery, while dignitaries of an inferior rank took their place outside the gate (narli kapou) in the city walls below the monastery, and at the pier at the foot of the steep path that descends from that gate to the shore of the sea of marmora, all awaiting the arrival of the imperial barge from the great palace. both sides of the path were lined by monks of the house, holding lighted tapers, and as soon as the emperor disembarked, the officials at the pier and the crowd of monks, with the abbot at their head, swinging his silver censer of fragrant smoke, led the way up to the gate. there a halt was made for the magistri, patricians, and omphikialioi ([greek: omphikialioi]) to do homage to the sovereign and join the procession, and then the long train wended its way through the open grounds attached to the monastery ([greek: dia tou exaerou]), and through covered passages ([greek: dia tôn ekeise diabatikôn]),[74] until it reached the south-eastern end of the narthex ([greek: eiserchontai dia tou pros anatolikên dexiou merous tou narthêkos]). before the entrance at that point, the emperor put on richly embroidered robes, lighted tapers, and then followed the clergy into the church, to take his stand at the east end of the south aisle. the most important act he performed during the service was to incense the head of john the baptist enshrined on the right hand of the bema. at the conclusion of the office of the day, he was served by the monks with refreshments under the shade of the trees in the monastery grounds ([greek: anadendradion]); and, after a short rest, proceeded to his barge with the same ceremonial as attended his arrival, and returned to the palace.[75] [illustration: plate viii. s. john of the studion, from the south-east. _to face page 48._] the church was converted into a mosque in the reign of bajazet ii. (1481-1512) by the sultan's equerry, after whom it is now named. _architectural features_ the church of s. john the baptist of the studion is a basilica, and is of special interest because the only surviving example of that type in constantinople, built while the basilica was the dominant form of ecclesiastical architecture in the christian world. it has suffered severely since the turkish conquest, especially from the fire which, in 1782, devastated the quarter in which it stands, and from the fall of its roof, a few winters ago, under an unusual weight of snow. still, what of it remains and the descriptions of its earlier state given by gyllius, gerlach, and other visitors, enable us to form a fair idea of its original appearance. the recent explorations conducted by the russian institute at constantinople have also added much to our knowledge of the building. it is the oldest church fabric in the city, and within its precincts we stand amid the surroundings of early christian congregations. for, partly in original forms, partly in imitations, we still find here a basilica's characteristic features: _the atrium_, or quadrangular court before the church; on three of its sides surrounded by _cloisters_; in its centre, the marble _phialé_ or fountain, for the purification of the gathering worshippers; the _narthex_, a pillared porch along the western façade, where catechumens and penitents, unworthy to enter the sanctuary itself, stood afar off; the interior area divided into _nave_ and _aisles_ by lines of columns; the semicircular _apse_ at the eastern extremity of the nave for altar and clergy; and _galleries_ on the other sides of the building to provide ample accommodation for large assemblies of faithful people. note gyllius (_de top. constant._ l. iv. c. 9) describes the church as follows: 'quod (monasterium) nunc non extat; aedes extat, translata in religionem mametanam; in cujus vestibulo sunt quatuor columnae cum trabeatione egregie elaborata; in interiore parte aedium utrinque columnae sunt septem virides, nigris maculis velut fragmentis alterius generis lapidum insertis distinctae, quarum perimeter est sex pedum et sex digitorum. denique earum ratio capitulorum, epistyliorum opere corinthio elaborata, eadem est quae columnarum vestibuli. supra illas sex existunt totidem columnae in parte aedis superiore. in area aedis studianae est cisterna, cujus lateritias cameras sustinent viginti tres columnae excelsae corinthiae.' gerlach (_tagebuch_, p. 217; cf. pp. 359, 406) describes it under the style of the church of s. theodore, for he confounds the monastery of studius with that of the peribleptos at soulou monastir: 'das ist eine sehr hohe und weite kirche (wie die unsern); hat zwei reyhen marmel-steiner säulen mit corinthischen knäufen (capitellis), auff einer jeden seiten sieben; auff deren jeden wieder ein andere säule stehet. der boden ist mit lauter buntem von vögeln und anderen thieren gezierten marmel auff das schönste gepflästert.' (this is a very lofty and broad church (like our churches). it has two rows of marble columns with corinthian capitals, on either side seven; over each of which stands again another column. the floor is paved in the most beautiful fashion entirely with variegated marble, adorned with figures of birds and other animals.) choiseul gouffier (_voyage pittoresque en grèce_, ii. p. 477), french ambassador to the sublime porte (1779-92), speaks of the church in the following terms: 'dans l'intérieur sont de chaque côté sept colonnes de vert antique, surmontées d'une frise de marbre blanc parfaitement sculptée, qui contient un ordre plus petit et très bien proportionné avec le premier. je ne sais de quel marbre sont ces secondes colonnes, parce que les turcs qui défigurent tout ont imaginé de les couvrir de chaux.' ph. bruun (_constantinople, ses sanctuaires et ses reliques au commencement du xve siècle_, odessa, 1883) identifies with the studion one of the churches dedicated to s. john, which ruy gonzalez de clavijo visited in constantinople when on his way to the court of tamerlane. but that church was 'a round church without corners,' 'una quadra redonda sin esquinas,' and had forty-eight columns of verd antique, 'veinte é quatro marmoles de jaspe verde, ... é otros veinte é quatro marmoles de jaspe verde.' what church the spanish ambassador had in view, if his description is correct, it is impossible to say. no other writer describes such a church in constantinople. see the note at the end of this chapter for the full text of the ambassador's description. the northern wall of the atrium is original, as the crosses in brick formed in its brickwork show. the trees which shade the court, the turkish tombstones beneath them, and the fountain in the centre, combine to form a very beautiful approach to the church, and reproduce the general features and atmosphere of its earlier days. the narthex is divided into three bays, separated by heavy arches. it is covered by a modern wooden roof, but shows no signs of ever having been vaulted. the centre bay contains in its external wall a beautiful colonnade of four marble columns, disposed, to use a classical term, 'in antis.' they stand on comparatively poor bases, but their corinthian capitals are exceptionally fine, showing the richest byzantine form of that type of capital. the little birds under the angles of the abaci should not be overlooked. the entablature above the columns, with its architrave, frieze, and cornice, follows the classic form very closely, and is enriched in every member. particularly interesting are the birds, the crosses, and other figures in the spaces between the modillions and the heavy scroll of the frieze. the drill has been very freely used throughout, and gives a pleasant sparkle to the work. in the second and fourth intercolumniations there are doorways with moulded jambs, lintels, and cornices, but only the upper parts of these doorways are now left open to serve as windows. the cornice of the entablature returns westwards at its northern and southern ends, indicating that a colonnade, with a smaller cornice, ran along the northern and southern sides of the atrium, if not also along its western side. the cloisters behind the colonnades, were connected at their west end with the narthex by two large and elaborately moulded doorways still in position. five doors lead from the narthex into the church; three opening into the nave, the others into the aisles. the interior of the church, now almost a total ruin, was divided into nave and two aisles by colonnades of seven columns of verd antique marble. but only six of the original columns have survived the injuries which the building has sustained; the other columns are turkish, and are constructed of wood with painted plaster covering. the colonnades supported an entablature of late corinthian type, which, as the fall of the turkish plaster that once covered it has revealed, had the same moulding as the entablature in the narthex. the architrave was in three faces, with a small bead ornament to the upper two, and finished above with a small projecting moulding. the frieze was an ogee, bellied in the lower part. of the cornice only the bed mould, carved with a leaf and tongue, remains. above each colonnade stood another range of seven[76] columns connected, probably, by arches. along the northern, southern, and western sides of the church were galleries constructed of wood. those to the north and south still exist in a ruined condition, and many of the stone corbels which supported the beams remain in the walls. only scanty vestiges of the gallery above the narthex can be now distinguished. its western wall, the original outer wall of the upper part of the church, has totally disappeared. its eastern arcade has been replaced by the turkish wall which constitutes the present outer wall of that part of the church. but beyond either end of that wall are visible, though built up, the old openings by which the gallery communicated with its companion galleries; while to the west of the wall project the ragged ends of the byzantine walls which formed the gallery's northern and southern sides. the nave rose probably to a greater height than it does now, and had a roof at a higher level than the roofing of the aisles. it doubtless resembled the basilican churches at salonica, either with clearstory windows, as in s. demetrius, or without such windows, as in eski juma jamissi. [illustration: plate ix. (1) s. john of the studion. east end. _e. m. antoniadi._ (2) s. john of the studion, north side, east end. _to face page 52._] the nave terminates in a large apse, semicircular within and showing three sides on the exterior. only the lower part is original; the turkish superstructure is lower and on a smaller scale than the byzantine portion it has replaced. there are no side chapels. under the bema the russian explorers discovered a small cruciform crypt. the large quantity of mosaic cubes found in the church during the recent russian excavations proves that the church was decorated with mosaics, while the remains of iron plugs in the western wall for holding marble slabs show that the building had the customary marble revetment. but what is curious is to find the mortar pressed over the face of the stones, and broad decorative joints formed by ruled incised lines and colour. mr. w. s. george suggests that this was a temporary decoration executed pending some delay in the covering of the walls with marble. he also thinks that the importance given to the joint in late byzantine work and in turkish work may be a development from such early treatment of mortar. the floor of the church was paved with pieces of marble arranged in beautiful patterns, in which figures of animals and scenes from classic mythology were inlaid. gerlach[77] noticed the beauty of the pavement, and salzenberg[78] represents a portion of it in his work on s. sophia. but the members of the russian institute of constantinople have had the good fortune to bring the whole pavement to light. a noticeable feature is the number of doors to the church, as in s. irene. besides the five doors already mentioned, leading into the interior from the narthex, there is a door at the eastern end of each aisle, and close to each of these doors is found both in the southern and northern walls of the building an additional door surmounted by a window. the latter doors and their windows have been walled up. the exterior is in two stories, corresponding to the ground floor and the galleries. it has two ranges of eight large semicircular-headed windows in the northern and southern walls, some of them modified, others built up, since the building became a mosque. the five windows in the gable of the western wall are, like the wall itself, turkish. pilasters are placed at the angles and at the apse. on the south side of the church is a cistern, the roof of which rests on twenty-three columns crowned by beautiful corinthian capitals. note the full text of the description given of the church of s. john, mentioned by ruy gonzalez de clavijo, reads as follows:- é la primera parte (puerta?) de la iglesia es muy alta é de obra rica, é delante desta puerta está un grand corral y luego al cuerpo de la iglesia, é el qual cuerpo es una quadra redonda sin esquinas muy alta, é es cerrada al derredor de tres grandes naves, que son cubiertas da un cielo ellas y la quadra. é ha en ella siete altares, é el cielo desta quadra é naves é las paredés es de obra de musayca muy ricamente labrada, é en ello muchas historias, é la quadra está armada sobre veinte é quatro marmoles de jaspe verde, é las dichas naves son sobradadas, é los sobrados dellas salen al cuerpo de la iglesia, é alli avia otros veinte é quatro marmoles de jaspe verde, é il cielo de la quadra é las paredes e de obra musayca, é los andamios de las naves salen sobre el cuerpo de la iglesia, é alli do avia de aver verjas avia marmoles pequenos de jaspe.[79] with the kind help of professor cossio of madrid, the spanish text may be roughly translated as follows:- and the first part (door?) of the church is very lofty and richly worked. and before this door is a large court beside the body of the church; and the said body is a round hall without corners (or angles), very lofty, and enclosed round about by three large naves, which are covered, they and the hall, by one roof. and it (the church) has in it seven altars; and the roof of the hall and naves and the walls are of mosaic work very richly wrought, in which are (depicted) many histories. and the (roof of the) hall is placed on twenty-four marble columns of green jasper (verd antique). and the said naves have galleries, and the galleries open on the body of the church, and these have other twenty-four marble columns of green jasper; and the roof of the hall and the walls are of mosaic work. and the elevated walks of the naves open over the body of the church,[80] and where a balustrade should be found there are small marble columns of jasper. outside the church, adds the ambassador, was a beautiful chapel dedicated to s. mary, remarkable for its mosaics. [illustration: plate x. s. john of the studion. cistern. _to face page 51._] [illustration: fig. 12.] [illustration: fig. 13.] [illustration: figs. 14. and 15.] [illustration: figs. 16 and 17.] [illustration: fig. 18.] [illustration: fig. 19.] [35] the latin thesis of eugenius marin, _de studio coenobio constantinopolitano_, paris, 1897, is a most useful work. [36] gyllius, _de top._ c.p. p. 313. [37] _itinéraires russes en orient_, p. 306, _traduits pour la société de l'orient latin par mdme. b. de khitrovo_. [38] _ibid._ p. 231. for all questions concerning the walls of the city i refer, once for all, to my work, _byzantine constantinople: the walls and adjoining historical sites_, published in 1889 by john murray, london. [39] _paschal chronicle_, p. 726. [40] constantine porphyrogenitus, _de ceremoniis_, pp. 462-3. [41] p. 175. but according to epigram 4 in the _anthologia graeca epigrammatum_ (stadt-mueller, 1894) studius became consul after the erection of the church and as a reward for its erection. under the heading [greek: eis ton naon tou prodromou en tois stoudiou] it says [greek: touton iôannê, christou megalô theraponti, stoudios aglaon oikon edeimato. karpalimôs de tôn kamôn heureto misthon helôn hypatêida rhabdon.] in suidas is a similar epigram in honour of the erection by studius of another church; [greek: tou archistratêgou nakôleias] in phrygia. [42] _theodori studitae vita_, migne, _patrologia graeca_, tome 99. [43] _pasch. chron._ p. 591. [44] banduri, i. p. 54. in the recent excavations carried on in the studion by the russian archaeological institute of constantinople, the foundations of an earlier building were discovered below the floor of the church. the line of the foundations ran through the church from north-east to south-west, parallel to the wall of the cistern to the south-west of the church. perhaps it is too soon to determine the character of the earlier building. [45] s.v.: [greek: hê tôn stouditôn monê proteron kai katholikês ekklêsias ên, hysteron de metêlthen eis monên.] the reading is doubtful. a proposed emendation is, [greek: tôn katholikôn ekklêsia ên.] [46] codinus, _de aed._ p. 102. [47] theophanes, pp. 187, 218; evagrius, cc. 18, 19, 21. in the list of the abbots who subscribed one of the documents connected with the synod held at constantinople in 536, the two establishments are clearly distinguished. they are distinguished also by antony of novgorod in 1200, _itin. russes_, pp. 97, 100. [48] seylitzes, p. 650. [49] nicephorus bryennius, p. 181. [50] cedrenus, ii. p. 650. [51] nicephorus gregoras, i. p. 190; stephen of novgorod, who saw the church in 1350, refers to its 'very lofty roof,' _itin. russes_, p. 123. [52] theoph. p. 747; _life of s. theodore_, migne, p.g. tome 99. [53] the modern touzla at the northern head of the gulf of nicomedia. see the articles by mr. siderides and mr. meliopoulos in the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of constantinople_, vol. xxxi., 1907-8. [54] the english reader should consult the _life of theodore of studium_, by miss alice gardner, for an excellent presentation of the man and his work. [55] according to stephen of novgorod (_itin. russes_, p. 121) the refectory was an unusually fine hall, situated near the sea. [56] at a short distance beyond the north-eastern end of the church are some ruined vaults which the turks have named kietab hané, the library. see plate iii. [57] for the constitution and _epitamia_ of the studion, see migne, _p.g._ tome 99. [58] _itin. russes_, p. 136. [59] _ibid._ p. 122 'on envoyait beaucoup de livres de ce couvent en russie, des règlements, des triodions et autres livres.' many members of the studion were russians. [60] marin, _de studio_, p. 11. see marin, _les moines de constantinople_, for the monastic institutions of the city in general. [61] cedren. ii. p. 147. [62] _ibid._ p. 212. [63] _ibid._ p. 479. [64] _acta et diplomata patriarchatus constantinop._ t. ii. p. 12 [greek: en tais hierais te kai synodikais syneleusesi; prôton men gar pantôn ton archimandritên tôn stoudiou kai ho chronos katestêse kai to dikaion auto.] [65] theoph. cont. p. 362. [66] _ibid._ p. 384. [67] glycas, p. 592; cedrenus, ii. p. 539; psellus, pp. 87-93; _byzantine texts_, edited by prof. bury; cf. schlumberger, _épopée byzantine à la fin du dixième siècle_, p. 372. [68] see cedrenus, ii. p. 555; will, _commemoratio brevis_, p. 150; schlumberger, _op. cit._ chapitre viii. [69] attaliotes, pp. 304, 306; glycas, p. 617; scylitzes, pp. 738-39. [70] scylitzes, pp. 649-51; bryennius, p. 20. [71] acropolita, p. 197. [72] ducas, p. 99 [greek: plêsion tou naou entos tês pylês]. [73] _pasch. chron._ pp. 726-27. [74] mr. pantchenko of the russian institute at constantinople has found evidence that cloisters stood along the east and south sides of the great cistern to the south-west of the church. [75] constant. porphyr. _de cer._ ii. pp. 562-3. [76] gyllius says six. [77] see passage from his _tagebuch_ quoted on page 50. [78] _altchristliche baudenkmäler von konstantinopel_, blatt iv. [79] _vida del gran tamorlan y itinerario_, pp. 55-56 (madrid, 1782). [80] _i.e._ from the elevated floors of the galleries one could look over the church. chapter iii the church of ss. sergius and bacchus, kutchuk aya sofia on the level tract beside the sea of marmora, to the south of the hippodrome, and a few paces to the north-west of tchatlady kapou, stands the ancient church of ss. sergius and bacchus. it is commonly known as the mosque kutchuk aya sofia, little s. sophia, to denote at once its likeness and its unlikeness to the great church of that name. it can be reached by either of the two streets descending from the hippodrome to the sea, or by taking train to koum kapou, and then walking eastwards for a short distance along the railroad. there can be no doubt in regard to its identity. for the inscription on the entablature of the lower colonnade in the church proclaims the building to be a sanctuary erected by the emperor justinian and his empress theodora to the honour of the martyr sergius. the building stands, moreover, as ss. sergius and bacchus stood, close to the site of the palace and the harbour of hormisdas.[81] when gyllius visited the city the greek community still spoke of the building as the church of ss. sergius and bacchus--'templum sergii et bacchi adhuc superest, cujus nomen duntaxat graeci etiam nunc retinent.'[82] [illustration: plate xi. ss. sergius and bacchus. interior, looking north-west. _to face page 62._] the foundations of the church were laid in 527, the year of justinian's accession,[83] and its erection must have been completed before 536, since it is mentioned in the proceedings of the synod held at constantinople in that year.[84] according to the anonymus, indeed, the church and the neighbouring church of ss. peter and paul were founded after the massacre in the hippodrome which suppressed the nika riot. but the anonymus is not a reliable historian.[85] the church did not stand alone. beside it and united with it, justinian built also a church dedicated to the apostles peter and paul,[86] so that the two buildings formed a double sanctuary, having a common court and a continuous narthex. they were equal in size and in the richness of the materials employed in their construction, and together formed one of the chief ornaments of the palace and the city. there was, however, one striking difference between them; ss. sergius and bacchus was a domical church, while ss. peter and paul was a basilica. styles of ecclesiastical architecture destined soon to blend together in the grandeur and beauty of s. sophia were here seen converging towards the point of their union, like two streams about to mingle their waters in a common tide. a similar combination of these styles occurs at kalat-semân in the church of s. symeon stylites, erected towards the end of the fifth century, where four basilicas forming the arms of a cross are built on four sides of an octagonal court.[87] the saints to whom the church was dedicated were brother officers in the roman army, who suffered death in the reign of maximianus,[88] and justinian's particular veneration for them was due, it is said, to their interposition in his behalf at a critical moment in his career. having been implicated, along with his uncle, afterwards justin i., in a plot against the emperor anastasius, he lay under sentence of death for high treason; but on the eve of his execution, a formidable figure, as some authorities maintain,[89] or as others affirm, the saints sergius and bacchus, appeared to the sovereign in a vision and commanded him to spare the conspirators. thus justinian lived to reach the throne, and when the full significance of his preservation from death became clear in the lustre of the imperial diadem, he made his deliverers the object of his devout regard. indeed, in his devotion to them he erected other sanctuaries to their honour also in other places of the empire.[90] still this church, founded early in his reign, situated beside his residence while heir-apparent, and at the gates of the great palace, and withal a gem of art, must be considered as justinian's special thankoffering for his crown. with the church of ss. sergius and bacchus was associated a large monastery known, after the locality in which it stood, as the monastery of hormisdas, [greek: en tois hormisdou]. it was richly endowed by justinian.[91] note there is some obscurity in regard to the church of ss. peter and paul. according to theophanes,[92] the first church in constantinople built in honour of those apostles was built at the suggestion of a roman senator festus, who on visiting the eastern capital, in 499, was astonished to find no sanctuary there dedicated to saints so eminent in christian history, and so highly venerated by the church of the west. as appears from a letter addressed in 519 to pope hormisdas by the papal representative at the court of constantinople, a church of that dedication had been recently erected by justinian while holding the office of comes domesticorum under his uncle justin i. 'your son,' says the writer, 'the magnificent justinian, acting as becomes his faith, has erected a basilica of the holy apostles, in which he wishes relics of the martyr s. laurentius should be placed.' 'filius vester magnificus vir justinianus, res convenientes fidei suae faciens, basilicam sanctorum apostolorum in qua desiderat sancti laurentii martyris reliquias esse, constituit.'[93] we have also a letter to the pope from justinian himself, in which the writer, in order to glorify the basilica which he had built in honour of the apostles in his palace, begs for some links of the chains which had bound the apostles peter and paul, and for a portion of the gridiron upon which s. laurentius was burnt to death.[94] the request was readily granted in the same year. the description of the basilica, as situated in the palace then occupied by justinian, leaves no room for doubt that the sanctuary to which the letters just quoted refer was the church of ss. peter and paul which procopius describes as near ([greek: para]) the palace of hormisdas. in that case the church of ss. peter and paul was built before the church of ss. sergius and bacchus, for the inscription on the entablature in the latter church, not to mention cedrenus, distinctly assigns the building to the time when justinian and theodora occupied the throne. this agrees with the fact that procopius[95] records the foundation of ss. peter and paul before that of ss. sergius and bacchus, and if this were all he did the matter would be clear. but, unfortunately, this is not all procopius has done. for after recording the erection of ss. sergius and bacchus, he proceeds to say that justinian subsequently ([greek: epeita]) joined another ([greek: allo]) church,[96] a basilica, to the sanctuary dedicated to those martyrs, thus leaving upon the reader's mind the impression that the basilica was a later construction. to whom that basilica was consecrated procopius does not say. was that basilica the church of ss. peter and paul which procopius mentioned before recording the erection of ss. sergius and bacchus? is he speaking of two or of three churches? the reply to this question must take into account two facts as beyond dispute: first, that the church of ss. peter and paul, as the letters cited above make clear, was earlier than the church of ss. sergius and bacchus; secondly, that the basilica united to the latter sanctuary was dedicated to the two great apostles; for scenes which, according to one authority,[97] occurred in s. peter's took place, according to another authority,[98] in the church of ss. sergius and bacchus. in the face of these facts, procopius is either mistaken in regard to the relative age of the two sanctuaries, or he has not expressed his meaning as clearly as he might have done. to suppose that two sanctuaries dedicated to the great apostles were built by justinian within a short time of each other in the same district, one within the palace, the other outside the palace, is a very improbable hypothesis. the question on which side of ss. sergius and bacchus the basilica of ss. peter and paul stood, seems decided by the fact that there is more room for a second building on the north than on the south of kutchuk agia sofia. furthermore, there are traces of openings in the north wall of the church which could serve as means of communication between the two adjoining buildings. ebersolt, however, places ss. peter and paul on the south side of ss. sergius and bacchus.[99] a remarkable scene was witnessed in the church in the course of the controversy which raged around the writings known in ecclesiastical history as 'the three chapters,' the work of three theologians tainted, it was alleged, with the heretical opinions of nestorius. justinian associated himself with the party which condemned those writings, and prevailed upon the majority of the bishops in the east to subscribe the imperial decree to that effect. but vigilius, the pope of the day, and the bishops in the west, dissented from that judgment, because the authors of the writings in question had been acquitted from the charge of heresy by the council of chalcedon. to condemn them after that acquittal was to censure the council and reflect upon its authority. under these circumstances justinian summoned vigilius to constantinople in the hope of winning him over by the blandishments or the terrors of the court of new rome. vigilius reached the city on the 25th of january 547, and was detained in the east for seven years in connection with the settlement of the dispute. he found to his cost that to decide an intricate theological question, and above all to assert 'the authority of s. peter vested in him' against an imperious sovereign and the jealousy of eastern christendom, was no slight undertaking. pope and emperor soon came into violent collision, and fearing the consequences vigilius sought sanctuary in the church of s. peter[100] as he styles it, but which byzantine writers[101] who record the scene name s. sergius. [illustration: plate xii. (1) ss. sergius and bacchus. capital. (2) s. john of the studion. capital in the narthex. _to face page 66._] justinian was not the man to stand the affront. he ordered the praetor of the city to arrest the pope and conduct him to prison. but when that officer appeared, vigilius grasped the pillars of the altar and refused to surrender. thereupon the praetor ordered his men to drag the pope out by main force. seizing vigilius by his feet, holding him by his beard and the hair of his head, the men pulled with all their might, but they had to deal with a powerful man, and he clung fast to the altar with an iron grip. in this tug-of-war the altar at length came crashing to the ground, the pope's strong hands still holding it tight. at this point, however, the indignation and sympathy of the spectators could not be restrained; the assailants of the prostrate prelate were put to flight, and he was left master of the situation. next day a deputation, including belisarius and justin, the heir-apparent, waited upon vigilius, and in the emperor's name assured him that resistance to the imperial will was useless, while compliance with it would save him from further ill-treatment. yielding to the counsels of prudence, the pope returned to the palace of placidia,[102] the residence assigned to him during his stay in the capital. probably at this time arose the custom of placing the churches of ss. peter and paul, and ss. sergius and bacchus at the service of the latin clergy in constantinople, especially when a representative of the pope, or the pope himself, visited the city. the fact that the church was dedicated to apostles closely associated with rome and held in highest honour there, would make it a sanctuary peculiarly acceptable to clergy from western europe. this, however, did not confer upon roman priests an exclusive right to the use of the building, and the custom of allowing them to officiate there was often more conspicuous in the breach than in the observance. still the roman see always claimed the use of the church, for in the letter addressed in 880 by pope julius viii. to basil i., that emperor is thanked for permitting roman clergy to officiate again in ss. sergius and bacchus according to ancient custom: 'monasterium sancti sergii intra vestram regiam urbem constitutum, quod sancta romana ecclesia jure proprio quondam retinuit, divina inspiratione repleti pro honore principis apostolorum nostro praesulatui reddidistis.'[103] the most distinguished hegoumenos of the monastery was john hylilas, better known, on account of his learning, as the grammarian, and nicknamed lecanomantis, the basin-diviner, because versed in the art of divination by means of a basin of polished brass. he belonged to a noble family of armenian extraction, and became prominent during the reigns of leo v., michael ii., and theophilus as a determined iconoclast. his enemies styled him jannes, after one of the magicians who withstood moses, to denote his character as a sorcerer and an opponent of the truth. having occasion, when conducting service in the imperial chapel to read the lesson in which the prophet isaiah taunts idolaters with the question, 'to whom then will ye liken god, or to what likeness will ye compare him?' john, it is said, turned to leo v., and whispered the significant comment, 'hearest thou, my lord, the words of the prophet? they give thee counsel.' he was a member of the commission charged by that emperor to collect passages from the holy scriptures and the fathers of the church that condemned the use of images in worship. prominent iconodules were interned in the monastery of hormisdas in the hope that he would turn them from the error of their ways by his arguments and influence. he directed the education of theophilus and supported the iconoclastic policy pursued by that pupil when upon the throne. theophilus appointed his tutor syncellus to the patriarch antony, employed him in diplomatic missions,[104] and finally, upon the death of antony, created him patriarch. the name of john can still be deciphered under somewhat curious circumstances, in the litany which is inscribed on the bronze doors of the beautiful gate at the south end of the inner narthex of s. sophia. when those doors were set up in 838, theophilus and his empress had no son, and accordingly, in the threefold prayer inscribed upon the doors, the name of john was associated with the names of the sovereigns as a mark of gratitude and esteem. but in the course of time a little prince, to be known in history as michael iii., was born and proclaimed the colleague of his parents. it then became necessary to insert the name of the imperial infant in the litany graven on the beautiful gate of the great church, and to indicate the date of his accession. to add another name to the list of names already there was, however, impossible for lack of room; nor, even had there been room, could the name of an emperor follow that of a subject, though that subject was a patriarch. the only way out of the difficulty, therefore, was to erase john's name, and to substitute the name of the little prince with the date of his coming to the throne; the lesser light must pale before the greater. this was done, but the bronze proved too stubborn to yield completely to the wishes of courtiers, and underneath michael's name has kept fast hold of the name john to this day. the original date on the gate also remains in spite of the attempt to obliterate it. ss. sergius and bacchus was one of the sanctuaries of the city to which the emperor paid an annual visit in state.[105] upon his arrival at the church he proceeded to the gallery and lighted tapers at an oratory which stood in the western part of the gallery, immediately above the royal gates, or principal entrance to the church. he went next to the chapel dedicated to the theotokos, also in the gallery, and after attending to his private devotions there, took his place in the parakypticon ([greek: en tô parakyptikô tou thysiastêriou)], at the north-eastern or south-eastern end of the gallery, whence he could overlook the bema and follow the public service at the altar.[106] in due course the communion elements were brought and administered to him in the chapel of the theotokos; he then retired to the metatorion (a portion of the gallery screened off with curtains), while the members of his suite also partook of the communion in that chapel. at the close of the service he and his guests partook of some light refreshments, biscuits and wine, in a part of the gallery fitted up for that purpose, and thereafter returned to the palace. _architectural features_ in the description of the architectural features of the church and for the plans and most of the illustrations in this chapter i am under deep obligation to mr. a. e. henderson, f.s.a. the information gained from him in my frequent visits to the church in his company, and from his masterly article on the church which appeared in the _builder_ of january 1906, has been invaluable. in design the church is an octagonal building roofed with a dome and enclosed by a rectangle, with a narthex along the west side. this was a favourite type of ecclesiastical architecture, and is seen also in another church of the same period, san vitale of ravenna, in which justinian and theodora were interested. there, however, the octagonal interior is placed within an octagonal enclosure. the adoption of a rectangular exterior in the constantinopolitan sanctuary is a characteristic byzantine feature.[107] s. vitale was founded in 526, a year before ss. sergius and bacchus. [illustration: plate xiii. (1) ss. sergius and bacchus. from the south-east. (2) ss. sergius and bacchus. in the gallery over the narthex. _to face page 70._] as an examination of the plan will show, the architect's design has not been followed with strict accuracy, and the result is that both the enclosing square and the interior octagon are very irregular figures. furthermore, the two portions of the building have not the same orientation, so that the octagon stands askew within its rectangular frame. how this lack of symmetry should be explained, whether due to sloven work or the result of the effort to adapt the church to the lines of the earlier church of ss. peter and paul, with which it was united, is difficult to decide. the court which stands before the turkish portico in front of the west side of the building represents the old atrium of the church, and to the rear of the portico is still found the ancient narthex. at the south end of the narthex is a stone staircase leading to the gallery. the arch at the foot of the staircase is built of fragments from the old ciborium or eikonostasis of the church. the great height (0.24 metre or 9 inches) of the steps is found, according to mr. antoniadi, also in s. sophia. the exterior walls, which are mostly in brick and rubble masonry, exhibit poor workmanship, and have undergone considerable repair, especially on the east. on the south there are two thicknesses of walling. the outer thickness has arched recesses at intervals along its length, corresponding to openings in the inner thickness, and thus while buttressing the latter also enlarges slightly the area of the church. the length of the rectangular enclosure from west to east is 101 feet, with an average breadth of 772-1/2 feet from north to south, excluding the recesses in the latter direction. all the windows of the church have been altered by turkish hands, and are rectangular instead of showing semicircular heads. the passage intervening between the rectangular enclosure and the octagon is divided into two stories, thus providing the church with an ambulatory below and a gallery above. the domed octagon which forms the core of the building stands at a distance of some 18-1/2 feet from the rectangle within which it is placed. it measures 53-1/2 feet by 50-1/2 feet. the eight piers at its angles rise to a height of 33-1/2 feet from the floor to the springing of the dome arches. the archways thus formed, except the bema arch, are filled in with two pairs of columns in two stories set on the outer plane of the piers. the lower colonnade is surmounted, after the classic fashion, by a horizontal entablature profusely carved while the upper columns are bound by arches, thus making seven sides of the octagon a beautiful open screen of fourteen columns and as many triple arcades, resplendent with marbles of various hues and rich with carved work. the mass of the piers is relieved by their polygonal form, a fluted cymatium along their summit, and a repeating design of a flower between two broad leaves below the entablature. though the flower points upwards it has been mistaken for a cluster of grapes.[108] at the four diagonal points the sides of the octagon are semicircular, forming exhedrae, an arrangement which gives variety to the lines of the figure, widens the central area, secures more frontage for the gallery, and helps to buttress the dome. the same feature appears in s. sophia, whereas in san vitale all the sides of the octagon, excepting the eastern side, are semicircular. the extension of the interior area of a building (square or octagonal) by means of niches at the angles or in the sides, or both at the angles and in the sides, was a common practice.[109] there is considerable difference in the size of the piers and the dome arches. the eastern piers stand farther apart than their companions, and consequently the arch over them, the triumphal arch of the sanctuary, is wider and loftier than the other arches. the bays to the north-east and the south-east are also wider than the bays at the opposite angles. the apse is semicircular within, and shows three sides on the exterior. as in s. sophia and s. irene, there is no prothesis or diaconicon. the pairs of columns, both below and above, are alternately verd antique and red synnada marble, resting on bases of the blue-veined white marble from the island of marmora. the capitals on the lower order are of the beautiful type known as the 'melon capital,' a form found also in san vitale at ravenna and in the porch of s. theodore in constantinople (p. 246). the neckings are worked with the capitals, and enriched by 'egg-and-dart' pointing upwards. in the centre of the capitals was carved the monogram of justinian or that of theodora. most of the monograms have been effaced, but the name of the empress still appears on the capital of the western column in the south bay, while that of justinian is found on the first capital in the south-western bay; on both capitals in the north-western bay, accompanied by the title basileus; and, partially, on the last capital in the north-eastern bay. in the soffit of the architrave are sunk panels of various patterns, the six-armed cross occurring twice. the beadings of the fasciae are enriched with the designs commonly known as 'rope,' 'bead-and-reel,' 'egg-and-dart,' and again 'bead-and-reel.' the frieze is in two heights. the lower portion is a semicircular pulvinar adorned with acanthus leaves, deeply undercut; the upper portion is occupied by a long inscription in raised ornamental letters to the honour of justinian, theodora, and s. sergius. the cornice is decorated with dentils, 'bead-and-reel,' projecting consols, 'egg-and-dart,' and leaves of acanthus. the inscription (fig. 20) may be rendered thus: other sovereigns, indeed, have honoured dead men whose labour was useless. but our sceptred justinian, fostering piety, honours with a splendid abode the servant of christ, creator of all things, sergius; whom nor the burning breath of fire, nor the sword, nor other constraints of trials disturbed; but who endured for the sake of god christ to be slain, gaining by his blood heaven as his home. may he in all things guard the rule of the ever-vigilant sovereign, and increase the power of the god-crowned theodora whose mind is bright with piety, whose toil ever is unsparing efforts to nourish the destitute. the inscription is not mere flattery to the founders of the church. justinian and theodora were devout after the fashion of their day, and took a deep interest in the poor. the empress erected an asylum for fallen women, hostels for strangers, hospitals for the sick, and homes for the destitute. 'on the splendid piece of tapestry embroidered in gold which formed the altar cloth of s. sophia, she was represented with justinian as visiting hospitals and churches.'[110] [illustration: fig. 20. inscription on the frieze.] to the rear of the southern straight side of the octagon two columns stand under the gallery, with wide fillets worked on both sides of their bases, shafts, and capitals, showing that a frame of stone or wood was once affixed to them. the capitals are of the ordinary cushion type and bear on opposite faces the monograms justinian, basileus. [illustration: plate xiv. (1) ss. sergius and bacchus. the interior, looking north-east. (2) ss. sergius and bacchus. portion of the entablature. _to face page 74._] two feet above the cornice, or twenty feet from the floor of the church, the level of the gallery is reached.[111] here the columns are smaller than those below, and are bound together by arches instead of by an architrave. their capitals represent the type known as the 'pseudo-ionic' or cushion capital, in view of its broad head. it appears appropriately here as the form of capital required to carry the impost of an arch upon a capital. at one time, indeed, that demand was met by placing upon the capital a distinct block of stone, a fragment, so to speak, of the horizontal architrave. it is the device adopted in san vitale at ravenna, s. demetrius of salonica, and elsewhere, but never it would seem in constantinople, except in the underground cisterns of the city. it was, however, too inartistic to endure, and eventually was superseded by capitals with a broad flattened head on which the wide impost of an arch could rest securely.[112] a free form of acanthus, deeply undercut on the face towards the central area of the church, covers the capitals, and in the centre of that face, on all the capitals except the eighth (counting from the north-east) is carved the monogram of the title basileus, or of justinian, or of theodora. in the south side of the gallery stand two columns corresponding to the two columns in the aisle below. they are poor in design and not original. the western capital is 'pseudo-ionic,'[113] with a plain cross on the northern face. the eastern capital is in the basket form with roundels on the four faces. two additional columns are found in the western portion of the gallery. they are of verd antique and larger than the other columns in this story of the church, and have sunk crosses in them. the splendour of the interior decoration has certainly been dimmed, for the walls of the edifice once gleamed with marbles and glittered with mosaics. 'by the sheen of its marbles,' says procopius,[114] 'it was more resplendent than the sun, and everywhere it was filled profusely with gold.' when ferguson examined the building, remains of frescoes or of mosaics, which have disappeared since his time, could be distinguished in the narthex. the soffit, both of the upper and of the lower cymatium on the piers, projects sufficiently to admit the application of the customary marble incrustation. the proportions of the building are marred by the boarded floor which rises seventeen centimeters above the original pavement, disguising the real elevation of the dome and of the columns in the lower colonnade. but notwithstanding all changes for the worse the building is still a beautiful structure. very effective especially is the happy combination of the various lines and forms here brought together--the rectilinear and the semicircular sides of the octagon, the octagonal fabric and the round dome that crowns it, the horizontal entablature stretched along the summit of the lower story of columns and the arches that leap from column to column in the gallery. this harmonious variety of form has also a historical significance. an old order in architecture and a new order here meet and embrace before the earlier, having served its age, passes away and the later comes triumphant to fill another era of the world with fresh beauties. here in the tide of time we look before and after. to the student of architecture the dome of this church is specially interesting. in the application of the dome to the octagon no pendentives are employed. the octagon is carried up to the base of the dome, which is built in sixteen longitudinal compartments that impinge upon one another and form groins giving to the dome its strength and sweep. on the groins is a plaster moulding, probably byzantine. the eight compartments directly above the dome arches are flat, and flush with the inner face of the octagon, and in each of them is a semicircular-headed window. they rise perpendicular to a point a little above the windows, and then curve with a radius to the centre of the dome. [illustration: plate xv. the baptistery, s. sophia, from the east. the baptistery, s. sophia. the interior, looking west. _to face page 76._] [illustration: fig. 21.--view of the exterior of the dome of ss. sergius and bacchus.] on the other hand the eight compartments directly above the angles of the octagon are narrower than the preceding compartments; they have no windows, and, what is of special importance to note, they are deeply concave.[115] such marked hollowness is found in later domes as a decorative feature, but here it is primarily and supremely a constructive device. by its means the concave compartments are set slightly back from the octagon's inner face, leaving, at the springing line, portions of the wall-head to appear as little flat ledges on each side of the angles. this is a most skilful expedient, and compares favourably with the methods employed elsewhere to apply the dome to the octagon.[116] in the octagonal church of s. lorenzo at milan the octagon is turned into the circle by the introduction of squinches. in san vitale a considerable walling is built between the line of the octagon and the springing line of the dome, while the bed for the dome is formed by introducing, in the space over the angles of the octagon, niches which are worked above to the circle on plan. on the other hand, it is interesting to compare with these methods the method employed in the baptistery of s. sophia, now a sultan's turbé, near the southern entrance to the inner narthex. although the walls of the building describe a square on the exterior, they form an octagon on the interior with semicircular bays at the diagonals, as in ss. sergius and bacchus. but in the application of the dome the true pendentive is used. the baptistery was erected shortly before s. sophia, and in view of the erection of the great church. the curvature of the dome of ss. sergius and bacchus has three zones, which have respectively a radius of m. 8, (drawn from the centre of the octagon), m. 3-1/4, and m. 9-1/2, (centre about m. 2, below the springing of the dome). the first extends to a point a little above the heads of the dome windows; the second about m. 2 higher; the third to the crown of the dome. the groins stop short a little below the dome's apex, where they are arched into one another, leaving a saucer-shaped crown now capped by a turkish finial. the dome is covered with lead, and presents an undulating surface owing to the protuberance of its eight concave compartments.[117] the system of weighting and buttressing the dome displays great skill, and will be best understood by studying mr. henderson's geometrical and constructive sections of the systems (figs. 28, 29). [illustration: fig. 22.--brick stamps in ss. sergius and bacchus. (from rubbings by mr. a. e. henderson.) _at east end of south aisle._ _in the gallery._] [illustration: fig. 23.] [illustration: fig. 24.] [illustration: figs. 25, 26, and 27.] [illustration: fig. 28.] [illustration: fig. 29.] [illustration: fig. 30.] [81] procop. _de aed._ i. c. 4; banduri, iii. p. 45. [82] _de top._ ii. c. 14. [83] cedren. ii. pp. 642-43. [84] mansi, viii. col. 1010. [85] banduri, iii. p. 45. the church was visited by russian pilgrims in 1200, 1350, 1393.--_itin. russes_, pp. 160, 120, 164. [86] procop. _de aed._ i. p. 186. s. peter 'near the palace' is mentioned in the list of abbots at the synod of c.p. in 536. mansi, viii. col. 930, col. 939. another document of the same synod, col. 1010, is signed by peter, hegoumenos of ss. peter and paul and of the holy martyrs ss. sergius and bacchus. [87] diehl, _manuel d'art byzantin_, p. 31. antoniadi has drawn my attention to the junction of a basilica and a hexagonal building in a baptistery at tivoli. see dehio und bezold, _atlas_, plate i. fig. 10. [88] synax, oct. 7. [89] du cange, iv. p. 135. [90] cedren. i. p. 635; procop. _secret history_, c. 6; procop. _de aed._ ii. p. 234; theoph. p. 339; theoph. cont. p. 154. [91] cedren. i. pp. 642-43. the synaxaria (sirmondi) speak of three churches of s. sergius, in or near constantinople; [greek: en tais sophiais], oct. 7; [greek: plêsion tês aetiou kinsternês, nov. 9 (near monastery of manuel, p. 258); [greek: peran en rhouphinianais], may 29 (near kadikeui).] [92] page 220. [93] baronius, _annales ecclesiastici_, tom. ix. p. 253, luccae, 1741: 'quam basilicam eorum hic in domo nostra sub nomine praedictorum venerabilium constructam, illustrare et illuminare large dignemini.' [94] _ibid._ p. 254. [95] _de aed._ i. p. 186. [96] _ut supra_, [greek: kai epeita kai temenos allo ek plagiou toutô parakeimenon] (i.e. ss. sergius and bacchus). [97] baronius, x. p. 43. [98] theoph. p. 349; malalas, p. 485. [99] le grand palais. epigram 8 in the _anthologia graeca epigrammatum_ (vol. i. stadt-mueller) celebrates the erection by justinian of ss. peter and paul, [greek: eis ton naon tôn hagiôn apostolôn plêsion tou hagiou sergiou eis ta hormisdou]. [100] baronius, x. p. 43 'ex domo placidiana, ubi degebat, confugit ad ibi proxime junctam ecclesiam s. petri'; cf. vigilius' letter, _ep._ vii. t. i. _ep. rom. pont._ [101] theoph. p. 349; malalas, p. 485. [102] _notitia_. two palaces bearing similar names stood in the first region of the city, the _palatium placidianum_ and the _domus placidiae augustae_. vigilius refers to the palace in his circular letter, giving an account of his treatment at constantinople. there also the legates of pope agatho were lodged in 680, on the occasion of the first council in trullo, and there likewise pope constantine in 710, when he came to the east at the command of justinian ii., took up his abode.--anastasius bibliothecarius, pp. 54, 65. [103] epistola ccli. see du cange, _const. christ._ iv. p. 116. [104] 'under the microscope of modern historical criticism, ... it is not surprising to find that the famous embassy of john the grammarian to the court of baghdad must be rejected as a fiction irreconcilable with fact.'--prof. bury in the _english historical review_, april 1909. but he was sent on other embassies. [105] constant. porphyr. pp. 87-88. [106] similar to the parakypticon at the east end of the southern gallery in s. sophia. reiske (_comment. ad constant. porphyr._ p. 195) defines it as 'fenestra, quae in sacrificatorium despicit e catechumeniis.' cf. on the whole subject, antoniadi, [greek: ekphrasis tês hagias sophias], vol. ii. p. 291, note 101; p. 331, note 190; p. 332. [107] the plan of ss. sergius and bacchus is similar to that of the cathedral of bosra (511-12), which was also dedicated to the same saints. fergusson, _history of ancient and mediaeval architecture_, vol. i. p. 432. [108] gyllius, _de top. c.p._ ii. c. 16. if the design represented vine leaves and grapes, it surely did not allude to the god bacchus, but to the vine in the gospel of s. john. the small columns on the piers are turkish. [109] antoniadi, _s. sophia_, vol. ii, pp. 7-9, draws attention to the development of buildings with sides turned into exhedrae, from their simplest form to their culmination in s. sophia. he refers for illustrations to plans in dehio und bezold, _die kirchliche baukunst des abendlandes_, vol. i. pp. 23-31; _atlas_, vol. i. plate i. figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 7; plate iii. figures 1, 2, 7. [110] c. diehl, _theodora_, pp. 242, 342. [111] the ratio of the height of the gallery above the floor of the church to the height of the summit of the dome is, according to antoniadi, 1/3.5, the same as in s. sophia as built by anthemius. [112] 'pulvins,' says rivoira (_lombardic architecture_, p. 11, english translation), 'serve the purpose of providing the springers of the arches with a base corresponding to the wall which they carry, while allowing the support beneath to be much slighter without injuring the stability of the structure.' [113] rivoira, _ut supra_, p. 62: 'the volutes in the pseudo-ionic capital intended to conceal the abruptness of the transition from the square of the pulvin to the round.' [114] _de aed._ i. p. 187. [115] 'the centres of the radii of these concave compartments are formed by having three points given the groins on either side and the angle of the octagon in the centre. with these points for each compartment the radius is given, and an arc turned giving the concavity required for each web at its springing.'--a. e. henderson in the _builder_, january 1906, p. 4. [116] in s. george of ezra in syria (515), as mr. e. m. antoniadi informs me, the dome overhangs or oversails the angles of the octagon. [117] 'the dome stands within a polygon of sixteen sides, that rises four metres above the springing line, keeping the dome taut and weighting the haunches. against this polygonal casing are set buttresses formed by the extension of the piers of the octagon to within m. 1-1/2 from the cornice of the dome. these buttresses are in their turn respectively strengthened, on the rear, by two small buttresses; of which those on the north, south, east, and west sides rest on an arch of the gynecaeum, and carry the thrust to the outer walls of the church, while the others rest on the exhedrae and the vaulting of the gynecaeum. furthermore, from the summit of the buttresses formed by the piers of the octagon a small buttress is set against the cupola itself up to the cornice.' this marshalling of the buttresses around the dome in three tiers, while securing the stability of the structure, is moreover strikingly artistic. see fig. 21. chapter iv the church of s. irene 118-143 the church of s. irene stands at a short distance to the north-east of s. sophia, in the first court of the seraglio. its identity has never been questioned, for the building was too much in the public eye and too near the centre of the ecclesiastical affairs of the city to render possible any mistake concerning its real character. it is always described as close to s. sophia.[118] according to the historian socrates,[119] it was originally one of the christian sanctuaries of the old town of byzantium, a statement we may well believe, seeing byzantium was the seat of a bishop before the foundation of constantinople. the designation of the church as 'the ancient' or 'the old church,' ecclesia antiqua, [greek: hê palaia],[120] and the special regard cherished for the church during the earlier history of the city, are also thus best explained. the original sanctuary was small,[121] but when byzantium became the capital of the east the old fabric was enlarged and beautified by constantine the great to harmonize with its grander surroundings, and was dedicated to peace, in honour of the rest and quiet which settled upon the roman world when the founder of the city had vanquished all his rivals after eighteen years of civil war.[122] [illustration: plate xvi. _abdullah frères._ s. irene, from the south-east. _to face page 84._] note other churches of the same name were found in constantinople: s. irene in the seventh region, according to the _notitia_. s. irene in sykai (galata), [greek: peran en sykais]; theophanes, p. 353. s. irene by the sea, [greek: pros thalassan]; nicetas choniates, p. 269; synax., jan. 10. the last was also known as the new, [greek: nea]; synax., jan. 23. erected in the reign of the emperor marcian, it was partially restored by the emperor manuel comnenus after its destruction by fire; nicet. chon. _ut supra_. it was styled likewise 'at the ferry,' [greek: to perama]; codinus, _de aed._ p. 89; banduri, ii. p. 31. until the year 360, when the church of s. sophia was opened to public worship by the emperor constantius, s. irene appears to have been the cathedral of the city. hence, probably, the name sometimes given to it, the patriarchate, [greek: to patriarcheion].[123] nor did the church lose its primacy altogether even after the erection of s. sophia. on the contrary, the two churches were regarded as forming one sanctuary; they were enclosed within the same court, served by the same clergy, and known by the same name, 'the great church,' [greek: hê megalê ekklêsia].[124] s. irene was again the sole cathedral building, while s. sophia lay in ruins for eleven years after being set on fire in 404, on the occasion of the final banishment of john chrysostom. s. irene comes prominently into view during the fierce struggle between the adherents of the nicene creed and the arians, in the half-century which followed the inauguration of new rome. having been persuaded that the point at issue between the two theological parties was not essential, and that the agitation of the question was due to love of disputation, constantine the great, who valued peace at almost any price, attempted to suppress the controversy by his authority, and accordingly ordered the patriarch alexander to admit arius, then present in the city, to the holy communion. with this order alexander, a champion of the nicene creed, refused to comply. whereupon the followers of arius decided to have recourse to violence. but on the very eve of the day fixed to carry out their purpose, arius was taken suddenly ill in the forum of constantine and died on the spot. the historian socrates regards the event as the act of god, for when the patriarch heard what the heretics intended to do, he retired to the church of s. irene, and there for many days and nights, with fasting and tears, and with his lips pressed to the altar, implored divine succour in his terrible extremity. 'if the opinions of arius be true,' the patriarch prayed, 'let me die; but if they are false let him be judged.' the tragic end of arius was considered the answer to that prayer. upon the death of alexander in 343, at the age of ninety-eight, the two parties came into collision in regard to the question of his successor. the deceased prelate had recommended two persons as suitable to fill his place: the presbyter paul, because of his abilities; the deacon macedonius, on account of his age and venerable appearance. the arians favoured macedonius, as more in sympathy with their opinions; the orthodox, however, carried the election and installed paul in s. irene. the defeated party seems to have submitted, but the emperor constantius, a violent arian, quashed the election, and appointed eusebius of nicomedia, a prominent upholder of the views of arius, bishop of the capital. upon the death of eusebius in 346 the theological combatants again seized the opportunity to try their strength. the orthodox recalled paul; the arians consecrated macedonius. incensed by these proceedings, constantius, then at antioch, ordered hermogenes, the magister militum in thrace, to proceed to constantinople and drive paul from the city. but no sooner did hermogenes attempt to execute his instructions than the populace rose, burnt his house to the ground, and after dragging him along the streets, killed him. the emperor was furious. he hurried back to constantinople, banished paul, and reduced by one-half the amount of free bread daily distributed among the citizens. nor did he fully recognize macedonius as bishop. under these circumstances paul made his way to rome, and, having secured the support of the pope, reappeared in constantinople as the rightful bishop of the see. but the emperor, again in syria, was not to be baffled. more angry than ever, he sent peremptory orders to philip, the prefect of constantinople, to expel paul and to recognize macedonius. by skilful arrangements paul was quietly removed from the scene. but to install macedonius was a more difficult undertaking. the prefect, however, ordered his chariot, and with macedonius seated by his side made for s. irene, under an escort of troops carrying drawn swords. the sharp, naked weapons alarmed the crowds in the streets, and without distinction of sect or class men rushed for the church, everybody trying to outstrip his neighbour in the race to get there first. soon all the approaches to the building were packed to suffocation; no one stirred backwards or forwards, and the prefect's chariot was unable to advance. what seemed a hostile barricade of human beings welded together obstructed his path. in vain did the soldiers brandish their swords in the hope of frightening the crowd to disperse. the crowd stood stock still, not because it would not, but because it could not move. the soldiers grew angry, resorted to their weapons, and cut a way to the church through that compact mass of humanity at the cost of 3150 lives; some of the victims being crushed to death, others killed at the point of the sword. so was macedonius conducted to his throne in the temple of peace.[125] but the conflict between the opposite parties continued, and after six years spent in efforts to recover his position, paul was restored to office through the intervention of the pope of rome, of the emperor constans, and of the synod of sardica. it was a brief triumph. in 350 paul was exiled for life to cucusus, and macedonius ruled once more in his stead.[126] for the next thirty years s. irene with the other churches of the capital remained in the hands of the arians. [illustration: plate xvii. (1) s. irene, south side. (2) s. irene, north side. in the distance, s. sophia. _to face page 86._] during that period the nicene faith was preached by gregory of nazianzus only in a small chapel, subsequently dedicated to s. anastasia.[127] but with the accession of theodosius the great the adherents of the creed of nicaea prevailed, and the second general council, held in constantinople in 381, adopted that creed as the true faith of the christian church. according to the biographer of s. stephen the younger, who enumerates the six ecumenical councils, and indicates, in most cases, where each met, that famous council met in the church of s. irene.[128] but theodore lector[129] says the council assembled in the church of homonoia, and explains the name of that church as commemorative of the harmony which prevailed among the bishops who gathered there on that occasion. as a matter of fact, one of the churches of the city bore the name homonoia.[130] possibly the discrepancy between the statements of the authors just mentioned may be due to a confusion arising from a similar meaning of the names of the two churches. according to the anonymus,[131] the usurper basiliscus took refuge with his wife and children in s. irene, when he was overthrown in 477, and the emperor zeno recovered the throne. but, according to the _paschal chronicle_,[132] basiliscus fled on that occasion to the great baptistery of s. sophia. as that baptistery stood between s. irene and s. sophia and may have served both churches, the difference between the two statements is not serious. after standing for two centuries the constantinian edifice was burnt to the ground by the fire which the rebel factions in the nika riot set to the offices of the prefect on friday, the 16th of january 532. the building had narrowly escaped the same fate in the fire which destroyed s. sophia earlier in the course of the riot, and might have survived also the conflagration in which it actually perished, but for the strong wind which carried the flames from the praetorium to the church, devouring on their way the bath of alexander, a part of the hospice of eubulus, and the hospital of sampson with its patients. the restoration of the church was included in the magnificent scheme of justinian the great to build on the wilderness of ashes created by his rebel subjects the finest monuments of his empire. and so s. irene rose from its ruins, the largest sanctuary in constantinople, except s. sophia.[133] the bricks bearing the mark 'the great church,' [greek: megalê 'ekklêsia], which are built into a raised bank against the northern wall of the atrium, afford no indication of the date when s. irene was rebuilt. the bank is of comparatively recent origin.[134] in the month of december 564, the thirty-seventh year of justinian's reign, another great fire threatened to destroy the buildings which that emperor had erected in the quarter of the city beside s. sophia. the hospital of sampson was again burnt down; the atrium of the great church, known as the garsonostasion, suffered; two monasteries close to s. irene perished, and, what most concerns us, the atrium and part of the narthex of s. irene itself were consumed.[135] how soon these injuries were repaired is not recorded. during the 176 years that followed the reconstruction of the church by justinian, s. irene does not appear in history. but in 740 it was injured by the earthquake which shook constantinople in the last year of the reign of leo iii. the isaurian.[136] theophanes[137] is very precise in regard to the time when the disaster occurred; it was on the 26th of october, the ninth indiction, on a wednesday, at eight o'clock. the damage done both in the city and in the towns of thrace and bithynia was terrible. in nicaea only one church was left standing, while constantinople deplored the ruin of large portions of the landward fortifications and the loss of many churches, monasteries, and public monuments. s. irene was then shaken, and, as the examination of the building by mr. george has proved, sustained most serious injuries. the emperor leo died about six months after the disaster, and it is therefore uncertain whether the church was rebuilt before his death. his first attention was naturally directed to the reconstruction of the fortifications of the city, where his name still appears, with that of his son and successor constantine copronymus, as the rebuilder of the fallen bulwarks. but although there is no record of the precise date at which the ruined church was repaired, we may safely assume that if the work was not commenced while leo iii. sat upon the throne, it was undertaken soon after the accession of constantine copronymus. s. irene was too important to be long neglected, and was probably rebuilt during the ascendancy of the iconoclasts. the church reappears for a moment in 857 during the dispute which raged around the persons of ignatius and photius as to which of them was the lawful patriarch. while the partisans of the latter met in the church of the holy apostles to depose ignatius, the few bishops who upheld the claims of ignatius assembled in s. irene to condemn and depose photius with equal vehemence.[138] the church comes into view once more in connection with the settlement of the quarrel caused in 907 by the fourth marriage of leo vi. the wise. as the union was uncanonical, the patriarch nicholas deposed the priest who had celebrated the marriage; he, moreover, refused the communion to the emperor, and treated zoe, the emperor's fourth wife, as an outcast. for such conduct nicholas lost his office, and a more pliant ecclesiastic was appointed in his place. the inevitable result followed. the religious world was torn by a schism which disturbed church and state for fifteen years. at length romanus i. summoned a council of divines to compose the agitation, and peace was restored in 921, by a decree which condemned a fourth marriage, but allowed a third marriage under very strict limitations. so important was this decision regarded that it was read annually, in july, from the pulpit, and on that occasion the emperor, with the patriarch, attended service in s. irene, and at its close took part in a procession from s. irene to s. sophia, on the way back to the great palace.[139] [illustration: plate xviii. s. irene. the interior, looking east. (with the kind permission of professor c. gurlitt, from his work _die baukunst konstantinopels_, berlin, e. wasmûth.) _to face page 90._] on good friday the patriarch held a service for catechumens ([greek: katêchêsis]) in s. irene, which the patricians were required to attend.[140] the church of s. irene has never been used as a mosque. after its enclosure within the precincts of the seraglio soon after the turkish conquest, it was converted into an armoury, probably because it stood in the court occupied by the body of janissaries who formed the palace guard, and it has served that military purpose, in contradiction to its name, for the most part ever since. for several years it contained the first collection of antiquities made by the turkish government, and some of the objects in that collection still remain to recall the use of the building as a museum; the most interesting of them being the chain stretched across the mouth of the golden horn during the siege of 1453, the monument to the charioteer porphyrios, and the pedestal of the silver statue of the empress eudocia, which played a fatal part in the relations of that empress to the great bishop of constantinople, john chrysostom. since the establishment of the constitutional régime in the ottoman empire the building has been turned into a museum of arms. _architectural features_ until the recent establishment of constitutional government in turkey it was impossible to obtain permission to study this church in a satisfactory manner, so jealously was even entrance into the building guarded. the nearest approach to anything like a proper examination of the building was when salzenberg was allowed to visit the church in 1848, while the church of s. sophia was undergoing repairs under the superintendence of the italian architect fossati. but the liberty accorded to salzenberg was not complete, and, consequently, his plan of the church published in his _altchristliche baudenkmäler von konstantinopel_ is marred by serious mistakes. happily the new government of the empire is animated by an enlightened and liberal spirit, and at the request of his excellency sir gerard lowther, h.b.m. ambassador to the sublime porte, permission was granted to the byzantine research and publication fund to have the church examined as thoroughly as its condition allowed, and to make all the plans, drawings, and photographs required in the interests of a scientific knowledge of its architectural character. the byzantine research and publication fund was fortunate in having as its president, edwin freshfield, ll.d., so long distinguished for his devotion to byzantine archaeology, and it is mainly due to his generosity that the means necessary for carrying on the study of the church were provided. the society was, moreover, most happy in being able to secure the services of an architect in mr. w. s. george, who already possessed considerable experience in the investigation of byzantine buildings at salonica and elsewhere. fortunately, also, the building was at the same time placed under repair, in view of its conversion into a museum of arms, thus affording exceptional facilities for the erection of scaffolding and the removal of plaster and other obstructions. mr. george gave nearly five months to the study of the church, and the results of his careful investigations will appear in a monograph to be published by the byzantine research and publication fund. but with great courtesy, in view of the fact that i was engaged on the present work, and also because i waived my own application for leave to study s. irene in favour of the application made by the byzantine fund, i have been allowed to anticipate that monograph by making use of some of the results of mr. george's investigations. for this permission i am very grateful, as it will add much to the value of this volume. i visited the church frequently while mr. george was at work upon it, and my account of its architectural features is based entirely upon the information he then kindly supplied, and upon the notes he has communicated to me since his return to england. [illustration: plate xix. (1) s. irene. vaulting at the north-west corner of the atrium. (2) s. irene. the northern arch of the main dome, seen from the south gallery. _to face page 92._] the architectural feature which gives to this building a peculiar interest, in the study of the development of planning and construction, is the more complete fusion of the basilican type of plan with a domical system of roofing which it presents than is found in any other example of a similar combination. on the west, where the ground retains its original level, stands the old atrium, though much modified by turkish repairs and alterations. it had covered arcades on the north, south, and west sides, but only the outer walls of the northern and southern arcades, with some portions of their inner walls, and three complete vaulted bays at the northern end of the western arcade, are byzantine. the walls, vaults, and piers in other parts of the arcades are turkish. there is no trace of the west door which, under ordinary circumstances, would form the main entrance to the atrium, but a byzantine doorway, now built up, is found close to the narthex, in the outer wall of the south arcade. the area of the atrium has been, moreover, greatly reduced by the erection, on its four sides, of an inner range of turkish vaulting. five doors led from the atrium to the narthex, but only the central and the northernmost of these doors are now open, the latter entrance still retaining its original architrave and cornice of white marble, with the usual mouldings and a cross worked on the crowning member of the cornice. the present entrance to the church, however, is on the north side of the building, through a porch that leads down a sloping turkish passage to the western end of the north aisle. the narthex is in five bays, the two terminal bays having cross-groined vaults, the three central, vaults of a domical character with blunt rounded groins at the springing. the whole vaulting surface of the narthex was once covered with mosaics exhibiting mainly a geometrical pattern. from the narthex three tall arched openings conducted to the nave, and one opening to each aisle. but the direct communication between the narthex and the northern aisle is now cut off by the insertion of the turkish entrance to the church, although the old doorway to the aisle remains complete. the nave is divided into two large bays of equal breadth but unequal length, the western bay being the shorter. in the latter the arches which support its roof are, to the east and west, semicircular, while those to north and south are roughly elliptical, springing from the same level and rising to the same height as the semicircular arches, but being of shorter span. these elliptical arches extend to the outer walls of the church, thus partaking of the character of short barrel vaults. upon these arches is raised what has been called an elliptical dome. but in no part has it the character of a true ellipse, nor does it spring from its supporting arches in the simple regular manner of a dome, but in the complex manner of a vault built upon arches of unequal curvature. it should therefore rather be called a domical vault. where it shows above the roof it has the appearance of a modified and very low cone covering an irregular elliptical drum. the eastern bay of the nave is square on plan, bounded by semicircular arches, all extended so as to form short barrel vaults. the western arch is joined to the eastern arch of the western bay, thus forming a short barrel vault common to both bays. the vault to the east runs to the semi-dome of the apse; whilst the vaults to north and south, like the corresponding vaults in the western bay, extend to the outer walls and cover the eastern portions of the aisles and galleries. above the supporting arches regular pendentives are formed, and above these there is a drum carrying a dome. the apse to the east of the nave is semicircular within and covered by a semi-dome. between that semi-dome and the eastern barrel vault of the nave a break is interposed, giving the bema arch two orders or faces, with their external and internal angles rounded off, and the whole surface of the semi-dome and of the bema arch is covered with mosaic. at one time the mosaic extended also over the surface of the barrel vault. the decoration in the semi-dome consists of a large cross in black outline upon a gold ground; below the cross there are three steps set upon a double band of green that runs round the base of the semi-dome. a geometrical border bounds the semi-dome, and then comes the following inscription, an extract from psalm lxv. verses 5, 6 (the lxiv. in the septuagint version), on the inner face of the arch: [greek: (deut ei)sometha en tois agathois tou oikou sou, hagios o naos sou thaumastos en dikaiosynê epakouson hêmôn o th[eo]s o s[ôt]êr hêmôn hê elpis pantôn tôn peratôn tês gês kai tôn en thalassê mak(ra)[n]]. (come we will go?) in the good things of thy house. holy is thy temple. thou art wonderful in righteousness. hear us, o god our saviour; the hope of all the ends of the earth and of them who are afar off upon the sea. the letters enclosed within curved brackets and the accents[141] above them are paint only; the letters within square brackets are not in the inscription, but are supplied where evident contractions render that course necessary. the remaining letters are in unrestored mosaic. probably [greek:(deut ei) sometha] is a mistake of the restorer for the word [greek: plêsthêsometha] in the original text. 'we shall be filled with the goodness (or the good things) of thy house.' three other geometrical patterns in mosaic succeed, after which follows a broad wreath of foliage on the outer face of the bema arch and the words: [greek:(ho o)ikodomôn eis t(on oikon sou kai) anabasin autou, kai tên epangelian (tou hagiou pneumatos eu hêmas êlpeisamen eis to o)noma a(utou)]. the mosaic above the crown of the semi-dome has been injured and restored imperfectly in plaster, paint, and gilt. hence the large black patch in it which includes the upper arm of the cross. the letters enclosed within curved brackets are in paint and are manifestly the work of a restorer who has spoiled the grammatical construction of the words and obscured the meaning of the inscription. the remaining letters are in unrestored mosaic. i venture to suggest that the original text was a quotation from amos ix. 6, with possibly some variations: [greek: ho oikodomôn eis ton ouranon anabasin autou kai tên epangelian autou epi tês gês themeliôn]. 'he who builds his ascent up to the heaven and his command on the foundations of the earth.' the words, [greek: êlpeisamen eis to onoma autou], 'we have hoped in his name,' may be original (psalm xxxii. 21; isaiah xxvi. 8). with these inscriptions may be compared the beautiful collect used at the consecration of a church: [greek: akolouthia eis enkainia naou. nai despota kyrie ho theos ho sôtêr hêmôn, hê elpis pantôn tôn peratôn tês gês, epakouson hêmôn tôn hamartôlôn deomenôn sou kai katapempson to panagion sou pneuma to proskynêton kai pantodynamenon kai hagiason ton oikon touton]. 'yea, lord god almighty our saviour, the hope of all the ends of the earth, hear us sinners when we call upon thee, and send thy holy spirit, the worshipful and all powerful, and sanctify this house.' below the windows of the apse are ranges of seats for the clergy, forming a sloping gallery, and consisting of eleven risers and eleven treads, so that, according to the method of seating adopted, there are five or six or eleven rows of seats. there is no vestige of a special episcopal seat in the centre, but the stonework has been disturbed; for some of the seats are built with portions of the moulded base of the marble revetment of the building. underneath the seats runs a narrow semicircular passage originally well lighted through openings[142] in the riser of one range of seats, and having a doorway at each end. [illustration: plate xx. (1) s. irene. mosaic on soffit of an arch between the narthex and the atrium. (2) s. irene. portion of the mosaic inscription on the outer arch of the apse. _to face page 96._] on either side of the nave, towards the eastern end of each aisle, there is an approximately square compartment covered with a domical vault, and having an opening communicating with the nave immediately to the west of the bema. to the east of these compartments stands what was the original eastern wall of the church, and in it, in the north aisle, a large doorway retaining its architrave and cornice, is still found. of the corresponding doorway in the south aisle only the threshold is left. these doorways must have communicated with the outer world to the east of the church, like the doorways which occupy a similar position in the studion (p. 53). the northern compartment had an opening, which is still surmounted by architrave and cornice, also in its north wall. there are, moreover, four other openings or recesses in the northern wall of the church, and two in the southern. the main portions of the aisles are divided from the nave by light screens of columns, the eastern and western portions being connected by passages driven through the dome piers. in the eastern nave bay there are four columns, giving five aisle bays on each side. the columns are very slender, without any base moulding, and stand upon square pedestals, now framed round with turkish woodwork. on opening one of these frames the pedestal was found to be a mutilated and imperfectly squared block of stone. such blocks may have served as the core of a marble lining, or may be damaged material re-used. the capitals are of the 'pseudo-ionic' type, with roughly cut ionic volutes. the sinking on their lower bed is too large for the necks of the columns. towards the aisles they bear the monograms of justinian and theodora, identical with the monograms of these sovereigns in s. sophia, while on the side towards the nave they have a cross in low relief. usually monograms are placed in the more conspicuous position. above the capitals the vaulting that covers the aisles and supports the galleries is of an uncommon type. towards the nave the arches are narrow and raised upon very high stilts; from each capital a semicircular arch is thrown across to the outer wall, where is a range of windows, each of which has an extrados at a slightly higher level than the extrados of the corresponding nave arch; and thus a long narrow space is left between the four arches of each vault compartment that could be filled, wholly or in part, without the use of centering. the result is a narrow, irregularly curved vault, shaped to the backs of each of its surrounding arches, and having, in the main, the character of a spherical fragment. the western portion of each aisle is divided from the nave by an irregular arcade supported by a pier and one column, and, consequently, there are three aisle bays to the western nave bay, and not four as shown by salzenburg. the whole interior surfaces of the walls, up to the level of the springing of the gallery vaulting, and the nave walls, up to the gallery level, were once faced with marble. this is proved by the presence in the walls of many marble plugs and some iron holdfasts, as well as by remains of the moulded base of the facing. at the eastern extremity of the aisles there are chambers formed by walls built, as the vertical straight joints and difference of materials employed indicate, at various periods. the chamber at the end of the northern aisle has an archway, now built up, in its eastern wall, and seems to have served as a vestibule. it is in these chambers that salzenberg supposes the staircases leading to the galleries stood, but it is evident from the character of the walls and vaulting that no such staircases could ever have existed there. the galleries extend over the narthex and over the whole length of the aisles. access to them is now obtained by a wooden staircase and landing of turkish construction, but how they were reached in byzantine times is not evident. possibly the fragments of wall on the exterior face of the south wall of the narthex and the traces of vaulting beside them may be the remains of a staircase. or a staircase may have stood to the west of the narthex over the vaulting of the atrium, where projecting spurs of walls appear. the vaulting of the gallery over the narthex was originally similar to that of the narthex itself, but only the cross-groined vaults at the corners are byzantine; the three central compartments are turkish. five windows in the western wall looked into the atrium, and as many openings in the eastern wall into the nave and side galleries. below the former range is a string-course corresponding to that which runs round the interior of the building at gallery level. the gallery over each aisle consists of two open portions under the dome arches, divided from each other by the dome piers, which are pierced to connect the different parts of the gallery with each other, and with the gallery over the narthex. in the side walls there is a range of windows at gallery level; five on each side of the eastern nave bay, three in the south wall of the western nave bay, but none, at present, in its northern wall. above these windows are two ranges of windows in each lunette under the dome arches, a system of five and three in the eastern bay, and of four and two in the western bay. all these windows, now square-headed, had originally semicircular heads. the lunette filling the western dome arch had doubtless a similar window arrangement, though at present it has only one window. [illustration: plate xxi. (1) s. irene. interior, looking north-west. (2) s. irene. door at the east end of the north aisle. _to face page 98._] the eastern ends of the side galleries have been formed into separate chambers since the turkish occupation. of the additions beyond the original east wall of the church, that to the north was connected with the gallery by a tall wide arch, while that to the south was divided off from the gallery with only a small door as a means of communication. the southern addition was divided into two chambers as on the ground floor. the walls above gallery level and the large vaulting surfaces of the building are now covered with plaster, but a close examination proves that if any mosaic or marble revetment ever existed above gallery level, none of it, excepting the mosaic in the apse, remains. looking next at the exterior of the building, it is to be observed that the ground on the north, south, and east has been raised as much as fifteen feet. in many places the walls have undergone turkish repair. the apse shows three sides. the drum of the dome is pierced by twenty semicircular-headed windows (of which only five are now open), and as their arches and the dome spring at about the same level the heads of the windows impinge upon the dome's surface. two low shoulders cover the eastern pendentives. the plan of the drum is peculiar. from the shoulders, just mentioned, to the windows, it is a square with rounded corners, one side of the square being joined with and buried in the drum of the western dome vault; but upon reaching the base of the windows it becomes an accurate circle in plan, and at the springing of the window arches is set back, leaving a portion of the piers to appear as buttresses. the upper portion of the drum is carried well up above the springing of the dome, leaving a large mass of material properly disposed so as to take the thrusts produced. the careful examination of the building by mr. george has proved that the fabric is not the work of one age, but consists of parts constructed at different periods. for the full evidence on the subject we must await the forthcoming monograph on the church. here, only the main results of mr. george's survey can be presented. up to the level of the springing of the aisle vaults, the walls of the main body of the building, excepting the narthex and the additions at the east end of the church, are built of large well-squared stones laid in regular courses, and are homogeneous throughout. above that level the walls are built in alternate bands of brick and stone, five courses of brick to five courses of stone being the normal arrangement. the stones in this portion of the walls are smaller and much more roughly squared than those below the springing of the aisle vaults. this brick and stone walling is, so far as could be ascertained, homogeneous right up to the domical vault and the dome. as usual the arches and vaults are in brick. a point to be noted is that the recesses or openings in the lower part of the north and south walls of the church do not centre with the windows and vaulting above them; sometimes, indeed, the head of an opening comes immediately below a vaulting arch or rib. again, at the north-eastern external angle of the apse the wall up to the level of the springing of the aisle vaulting is in stone, but above that level in brick, and the two portions differ in the angle which they subtend. evidently there has been rebuilding from a level coinciding with the springing of the aisle vaulting. projecting above the ground at the same place is a square mass of stonework that was left unbuilt upon when that rebuilding took place. the narthex is built of brick, with bands of large stone at wide intervals, and is separated by distinct joints from the upper and lower walls of the body of the church. furthermore, while the two eastern bays on each side of the western portion of the nave continue and belong to the unusual system of vaulting followed in the aisles, the bay on each side immediately adjoining the narthex belongs to the vaulting system found in the narthex, and has, towards the nave, an arch precisely similar to the arches between the nave and the narthex. the division between the two systems is well marked, both in the nave and in the aisles, and points clearly to the fact that the narthex and the body of the church are of different dates. [illustration: plate xxii. (1) s. irene. vaulting over the south aisle. (2) s. irene. a compartment of south aisle vaulting (2) (looking directly upward). _to face page 100._] thus the architectural survey of the building shows that the principal parts of the fabric represent work done upon it on three great occasions, a conclusion in striking accord with the information already derived from history. for we have seen (p. 89) that after the destruction of the original constantinian church by fire in the nika riot, justinian the great erected a new sanctuary upon the old foundations; that later in his reign another fire occurred which necessitated the reconstruction of the narthex of that sanctuary; and that some two centuries later, towards the close of the reign of leo the isaurian, the church was shaken by one of the most violent earthquakes known in constantinople, and subsequently restored probably by that emperor or by his son and successor constantine copronymus. accordingly, leaving minor changes out of account, it is safe to suggest that the walls of the body of the church, up to the springing of the aisle vaults, belong to the new church built by justinian after the nika riot in 532; while the narthex, the aisle vaults immediately adjoining it, and the upper portion of the western end of the south wall, represent the repairs made probably by the same emperor after the injuries to the fabric caused by the fire of 564. the earthquake of 740 must therefore have shaken down or rendered unstable all the upper part of the building, but left standing the narthex, the gallery above it, and the lower part of the walls of the church. consequently, the upper part of the building, the apse, the dome-arches, the dome-vault, and the dome with its drum, belong to the reconstruction of the church after that earthquake. the buttresses to the apse where it joins the main eastern wall are later additions, and still later, but before turkish times, are the short walls at the north and south-eastern corners forming the small eastern chambers. of the building erected by constantine the great the only possible vestige is the square projection at the north-eastern angle of the apse, but that is an opinion upon which much stress should not be laid. in harmony with these conclusions is the evidence afforded by the mosaics found in the church. those of the narthex are of the same character as the mosaics in s. sophia, constantinople, and may well have been executed under justinian. on the other hand, the mosaics in the apse are characteristic of the iconoclastic period, the chief decoration there being a simple cross. for, as finlay[143] has remarked, leo the isaurian 'placed the cross on the reverse of many of his gold, silver, and copper coins, and over the gates of his palace, as a symbol for universal adoration.' a similar iconoclastic decoration and a portion of the same verses from psalm lxv. formed the original decoration of the apse in s. sophia, salonica. thus also is the presence of capitals bearing the monograms of justinian and theodora explained, seeing those sovereigns were intimately connected with the church. and thus also is a reason suggested why those monograms face the aisles instead of the nave; it was a position which would be assigned to them by a later restorer of the church who was obliged to use old material, and at the same time felt anxious to conceal the fact as much as possible, lest the glory of the previous benefactors of the church should eclipse his own renown. [illustration: plate xxiii. (1) s. irene. capital in south arcade, seen from the south aisle. (2) s. irene. base of column in the south aisle, seen from the south aisle. _to face page 102._] the conclusion that in the present building we have parts representing different periods solves also the problem of the elliptical domical vault. for it is difficult to imagine that a byzantine architect with a free hand would choose to build such a vault. but given the supports mr. george believes were left standing after the earthquake of 740, and given also the narthex on the west, the architect's liberty was limited, and he would be forced to cover the space thus bounded in the best way the circumstances allowed. how the western portion of the church was roofed in justinian's time it is impossible to say with certainty. there are buttress slips in the south wall at gallery level and in the nave below, where the break occurs in the arcade, that suggest the existence, in the church as originally built by justinian, of a narthex carrying a gallery. in that case the length of the barrel vault over the western part of the church would be about the length of the barrel vault over the eastern part, and the church would then show in plan a regular cross with a dome at the centre, two lateral doors, one of which is now built up, giving access to the ends of the narthex. the dates here assigned to the different parts of the building simplify the problem of the tall drum below the main dome. that this could have been built by justinian, as has been supposed, is difficult of belief if the large domes which are known to have been built by him are carefully examined. it is true that the drum dome of s. sophia, salonica, has also been claimed for justinian, but that drum is low and only partially developed, and although its date is not known, the consensus of opinion is against its being so early. the whole question of the development of the drum still awaits treatment at the hands of an investigator who has thoroughly studied the buildings themselves, and perhaps the publication of the results obtained by mr. george at s. sophia, salonica, and s. irene, constantinople, two crucial examples, will throw some light on the subject. for the present the date here given for the drum of s. irene (_i.e._ towards the middle of the eighth century) is an inherently probable one. in the foregoing description of s. irene there is no pretence to an exhaustive statement of facts, or any claim that the conclusions reached are final. there is still too much plaster on the walls to permit a complete examination of the building. but the conclusions here suggested are those which agree best with the evidence which has been brought to light by mr. george under present circumstances. [illustration: fig. 31.] [illustration: fig. 32.] [illustration: fig. 33.] [illustration: fig. 34.] [illustration: fig. 35.] [118] socrates, ii. c. 6; _corpus juris civilis_, nov. iii. c. 3. 2; _itin. russes_, p. 119. [119] socrates, ii. c. 16. so also the author of the _vita pauli patr. c.p._ the church of s. irene, which the anonymus (banduri, ii. p. 31) says had once been a heathen temple, was the church of s. irene, [greek: to perama]. [120] _notitia, regia secunda_; codin. _de aed._ p. 73. [121] socrates, _loc. cit._ [122] _ibid._ [123] banduri, ii. p. 52. [124] socrates, ii. c. 16. [125] socrates, ii. c. 16. [126] _ibid._ ii. 13, 15, 16. [127] _ibid._ v. 7. [128] _vita s. stephani junioris_, migne, p.g. 100, col. 1144, [greek: hê deutera en kplei en tô naô tês agias eirênês]. [129] theodore lector, ed. valesius (1748), p. 533. eutychius afflicted by the divine anger went [greek: en tô euagei euktêriô entha pepisteutai anapauesthai meros hierôn leipsanôn tôn thespesiôn pantaleontos kai marinou, epikaloumenou tou topou homonoia ek tou ekei sunelthontas tous hekaton pentêkonta episkopous epi theodosiou tou megalou basileôs]. the passage is preserved in john damascene, _de imaginibus_, book iii. [130] _notitia, regio nona_, 'continet in se ecclesias duas, cenopolim et omonaeam.' [131] banduri, ii. p. 25. [132] _ad annum_ 478. [133] procop. _de aed._ i. c. 2; _pasch. chron._ p. 622. [134] for this information i am indebted to mr. w. s. george. [135] theoph. p. 371. [136] patr. nicephorus, _in breviario_. [137] theoph. p. 634. [138] mansi, xv. 211; xvi. p. 18. see _basile i._ par albert vogt, p. 206. [139] const. porphyr. _de cer._ p. 186; cedren. ii. pp. 265, 275, 297. readers of russian are referred to d. belaev. 'the church of s. irene and the earthquake in c.p. 28 june 1894,' _vizantisky vreinennik_, i., st. petersburg, 1894, parts iii.-iv. section iii. pp. 769-798, and the article by the same author on the 'interior and exterior view of s. irene' in the same periodical, 1895, parts i, ii. section i. pp. 177-183. for the references to these articles i am indebted to mr. norman e. baynes, one of our younger byzantine scholars. [140] const. porphyr. _de cer._ p. 179. [141] only some of the accents are indicated in the transcription. [142] these openings are now covered with turkish wooden staging, and the passage is therefore quite dark. [143] _history of the byzantine empire_, p. 34, everyman edition. chapter v the church of s. andrew in krisei, hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi that the old byzantine church now converted into the mosque styled hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi, in the quarter of juma bazaar, at a short distance to the east of the gate of selivria was the church of s. andrew in krisei ([greek: monê tou hagiou andreou en krisei])[144] can be established, by the indications which byzantine writers have given of the site of that famous church, and by the legend which is still associated with the mosque. according to stephen of novgorod[145] (c. 1350) the church dedicated to s. andrew of crete, who was buried, as other authorities[146] inform us, in the district named krisis, stood at a short distance to the north of the monastery of the peribleptos. it lay, therefore, to the north of the armenian church of s. george (soulou monastir) in the quarter of psamathia, which represents the church of s. mary peribleptos. the mosque hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi lies in the same direction. again, according to pachymeres,[147] the church of s. andrew in krisei was near the monastery of aristina. that monastery, another authority states,[148] was opposite the church of s. mamas. the church of s. mamas was on the road between the studion and the church of s. andrew.[149] hence the church of s. andrew stood to the north of the studion, the situation occupied by hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi. once more, the site of the mosque corresponds to the position assigned to the church of s. andrew on the map of bondelmontius (1420), to the east of the gate of selivria. finally, the old church is more definitely identified by the legend of the judicial procedure which clings to the building. in the picturesque courtyard of the mosque, where the colour of the east is still rich and vivid, there stands an old cypress tree around whose bare and withered branches a slender iron chain is entwined like the skeleton of some extinct serpent. as tradition would have it, the chain was once endowed with the gift of judgment, and in cases of dispute could indicate which of the parties concerned told the truth. one day a jew who had borrowed money from a turk, on being summoned to pay his debt, replied that he had done so already. to that statement the turk gave the lie direct, and accordingly, debtor and creditor were brought to the chain for the settlement of the question at issue. before submitting to the ordeal, however, the jew placed a cane into the hands of the turk, and then stood under the cypress confident that his honour for truthfulness and honesty would be vindicated. his expectation proved correct, for the chain touched his head to intimate that he had returned the money he owed. whereupon taking back his cane he left the scene in triumph. literally, the verdict accorded with fact; for the cane which the jew had handed to his creditor was hollow and contained the sum due to the latter. but the verdict displayed such a lack of insight, and involved so gross a miscarriage of justice, that from that day forth the chain lost its reputation and has hung ever since a dishonoured oracle on the dead arms of the cypress, like a criminal on a gibbet. although this tale cannot be traced to its byzantine source, it is manifestly an echo of the renown which the precincts of the mosque once enjoyed as a throne of judgment before turkish times, and serves to prove that hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi is indeed the old church of s. andrew in krisei. [illustration: plate xxiv. s. andrew in krisei. east end. (from a photograph by a. e. henderson, esq.) _to face page 106._] the earliest reference to the locality known as krisis occurs in the narrative of the martyrdom of s. andrew of crete given by symeon metaphrastes,[150] who flourished in the latter part of the ninth century. a devoted iconodule, s. andrew, came from his native island to constantinople, in the reign of constantine copronymus (740-775), expressly to rebuke the emperor for opposing the use of eikons in religious worship. as might have been anticipated, the zeal and courage of the saint only incurred cruel and insulting treatment, and at length a martyr's death. for, while his persecutors were dragging him one day along the streets of the city in derision, a half-witted fisherman stabbed him dead with a knife. so strong was the feeling prevalent at the time against the champion of the cause of eikons that his body was flung among the corpses of murderers and thieves; but eventually his admirers succeeded in removing it from its foul surroundings and buried it 'in a sacred place which was named krisis' ([greek: eis hena hieron topon ho hopoios epônomazeto krisis]).[151] it is evident from this statement that the name krisis was applied to the locality before the interment of s. andrew there; how long before, it is impossible to say, but probably from early times. the body of the martyr was laid in or beside one of the two churches dedicated to saints also named s. andrew, which stood on the seventh hill of the city already in the sixth century.[152] [illustration: plate xxv. (1) s. andrew in krisei, from the south-west. (2) s. andrew in krisei. the interior, looking south. _to face page 108._] note one of these churches was dedicated to s. andrew the apostle, and stood 'near the column,' [greek: plêsion tou stylou];[153] the other to s. andrew, not otherwise identified, was near the gate of saturninus, [greek: plêsion tês portas tou satourninou].[154] it is difficult to decide which church is represented by the mosque. for there were two columns on the seventh hill of the city: the column of constantine the great, which stood outside the city bounds, giving name to the extra-mural district of the exokionion now alti mermer; and the column of arcadius now avret tash. nor can the position of the gate of saturninus be determined more accurately than that it was an entrance in the portion of the constantinian walls which traversed the seventh hill, the xerolophos of byzantine days. on the whole, however, the indications favour the view that hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi represents the church of s. andrew near the gate of saturninus. a church in that position, though outside the constantinian fortification, was still so near them that it could be, very appropriately, described as near one of the city gates. again the russian pilgrims[155] who visited the shrines of constantinople in the second quarter of the fifteenth century found two churches dedicated to s. andrew in this part of the city, one to s. andrew the strategos, the other to s. andrew 'mad with the love of god' ('god-intoxicated'). in proceeding northwards from the church of s. diomed, which stood near the golden gate (yedi koulé), the russian visitor reached first the sanctuary dedicated to s. andrew the strategos, and then the church dedicated to s. andrew the 'god-intoxicated,' which lay still farther to the north. but this order in the positions of the two churches implies that hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi represents the church of s. andrew the strategos, a martyr of the fourth century, viz. the church which the documents of the sixth century describe as near the gate of saturninus, without specifying by what title its patron saint was distinguished. this agrees, moreover, with what is known regarding the site of the church of s. andrew the apostle. it stood to the west of the cistern of mokius,[156] the large ruined byzantine reservoir, now tchoukour bostan, to the north of hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi. the church does not appear again in history, under the designation [greek: en krisei], until the reign of andronicus ii. (1282-1328), when it was found, like so many other churches which survived the latin occupation of the city, in a state demanding extensive repair. it was then embellished and enlarged by the protovestiarissa theodora,[157] a lady who occupied a prominent position in the society of the day, both as the emperor's cousin, and on account of her accomplishments and character. in her early youth she was married to george muzalon,[158] the favourite counsellor and trusted friend of theodore ii. ducas of nicaea. what confidence muzalon enjoyed may be inferred from the fact that he was associated with the patriarch arsenius as guardian of the emperor's son, john lascaris, when left the heir to the throne of nicaea, as a child eight years old.[159] had muzalon not met with an untimely end he might have become the colleague of his ward, and theodora might have worn the imperial crown. the tragic murder of her husband by his political opponents, while celebrating the obsequies of the emperor theodore, provoked a terrible outburst of indignation and grief on her part,[160] and so vehement was her condemnation of the criminals that her uncle, the treacherous michael palaeologus, threatened she would share her husband's fate if she did not control her feelings.[161] after the accession of michael palaeologus to the throne, her hand was bestowed on the protovestiarius raoul, and hence she is generally known by his name and title as raoulaina the protovestiarissa ([greek: hê rhaoulaina prôtobestiarissa]). one of her beautiful daughters became the wife of constantine palaeologus, the ill-fated brother of andronicus ii. but, as already stated, theodora was not only highly connected. like many noble ladies in byzantine society, she cultivated learning,[162] and took a deep interest in the theological discussions and ecclesiastical affairs of her day. she was a devoted adherent of the party attached to the person and memory of the patriarch arsenius; the party that never forgave michael palaeologus for blinding the young john lascaris and robbing him of the throne, the party that opposed the subjection of the eastern church to the papal see, and which maintained the freedom of the church from the political interference of the emperor. whatever its faults, that party certainly represented the best moral life of the period. [illustration: plate xxvi. (1) s. andrew in krisei. capital in the inner narthex. (2) s. andrew in krisei. capital in the arcade under the west dome arch. _to face page 110._] to heal the schism caused by the attitude of the arsenites 'was the serious labour of the church and state' for half a century. and in pursuance of the policy of conciliation, andronicus ii. allowed the body of arsenius to be brought to constantinople from the island of proconessus, where he had died in exile and been buried. the whole city gathered to welcome the remains of the venerated prelate, and saw them borne in solemn and stately procession from the landing at the gate of eugenius (yali kiosk) to the church of s. sophia. there, robed in pontifical vestments, the body was first seated upon the patriarchal throne, then laid before the altar, while the funeral service was intoned, and finally placed on the right hand of the bema in a chest locked and sealed for safe keeping. once a week, however, the body was exposed to public view, and all strife seemed hushed in a common devotion to the memory of the saint. it was soon after this event that theodora restored the church and monastery of s. andrew, and upon the completion of the work she besought the emperor to allow the remains of arsenius to be transferred to that shrine. the request was granted, and the body was carried to the church of st. andrew with as great pomp and ceremony as attended its arrival in the capital. there it was kept until the patriarchate of niphon (1311-1314), when it was again taken to s. sophia to appear in the final conclusion of peace between the friends and foes of the deceased.[163] standing beside the remains, niphon pronounced, in the name and by the authority of the dead man, a general absolution for all offences committed in connection with the quarrels which had raged around the name of arsenius; and so long as s. sophia continued to be a christian sanctuary the remains were counted among the great treasures of the cathedral. 'there,' to quote the words of a devout visitor shortly before the turkish conquest, 'is found the body of the holy patriarch arsenius, whose body, still intact, performs many miracles.'[164] during the closing years of her life theodora made the monastery or convent of s. andrew in krisei her home.[165] to retire thus from the troubled sea of secular life to the haven of a monastery, and there prepare for the voyage beyond earthly scenes, was a common practice in the fashionable world of the men and women of byzantine days. and it was natural for a wealthy traveller to leave at the port of call some splendid token of devotion and gratitude. the protovestiarissa was still an inmate of the monastery in 1289, when her friend the patriarch gregory, to whom she was bound by many ties, was compelled to resign.[166] he was one of the most learned men of his time and took an active part in the efforts to reconcile the arsenites. it was during his tenure of office that the body of arsenius was brought to the capital, and subsequently transferred from s. sophia to the church of s. andrew; he also opposed the union of the churches, and in the controversy regarding the 'procession of the holy ghost' which divided christendom, he vigorously defended the doctrine of the greek communion against veccus, who championed the latin creed. strongly attached to her friends, and quick to resent any injustice to them, theodora came forward in the hour of the patriarch's disgrace and offered him a refuge in the monastery of aristina, which stood, as we have seen, near the church of s. andrew and in the immediate neighbourhood of her own residence.[167] it was a fortunate arrangement, for gregory soon fell seriously ill and required all the sympathy and generous kindness which theodora was able to extend to him.[168] upon his death, ten short months after his retirement, theodora determined to show again her admiration for the man and his work by honouring his memory with a funeral befitting the position he had held in the church. she was prevented from carrying out her intention only by the peremptory and reiterated commands of the emperor, that gregory should be buried as a private person.[169] [illustration: plate xxvii. (1) s. andrew in krisei. capital in the outer narthex. (2) s. andrew in krisei. capital in the outer narthex. (from a photograph by a. e. henderson., esq.) _to face page 112._] after the death of theodora we have only occasional glimpses of the church and monastery. in 1350 stephen of novgorod came 'to kiss' the relics of s. andrew of crete, and describes the convent as 'very beautiful.'[170] once, at least, a sister proved too frail for her vocation;[171] sometimes a devout and wealthy inmate, such as theognosia,[172] would provide an endowment to enable poor girls to become her heirs in religion; or the sisterhood was vexed by the dishonesty of parties who had rented the lands from which the convent derived its revenues.[173] towards the end of its byzantine period another russian pilgrim[174] came to honour the remains of s. andrew the strategos, and bring the christian history of the church to a close. it was converted into a mosque by mustapha pasha, grand vizier in the reign of selim i. (1512-1520).[175] the custom of illuminating the minarets of the mosques on the eve of the prophet's birthday was introduced first at this mosque.[176] _architectural features_ on account of the serious changes made in the building and its surroundings when it became a mosque, and after the earthquake of 1765, its real character is not immediately apparent. the present entrance is in the northern side, where a fine turkish arcade has been erected. the mihrab is on the south side, a greater change for the correct orientation of a mosque than is usually necessary in the adaptation of a church to the requirements of a sanctuary in which the worshippers turn towards mecca. to the east a hall has been added for the accommodation of women who attend the services; while on the west is another hall, where the dervishes of the teké attached to the mosque hold their meetings. the north aisle also has been much altered and is covered with turkish domes. the first impression produced by the interior of the building is that we have here a church on the trefoil plan, similar to s. mary of the mongols (p. 272) or s. elias of salonica, for the central area is flanked by two semi-domes, which with the eastern apse form a lobed plan at the vaulting level. a closer examination of the building, however, will prove that we are dealing with a structure whose original features have been concealed by extensive turkish alterations, and that the trefoil form is a superficial disguise. the arches supporting the central dome on the north and south sides are filled in with semi-domes which rest on arches thrown diagonally across the 'aisles' on each side of the central dome. these arches are very clumsily set to the sides of an irregular hexagon, with the central wall arch much larger than the side arches. they have no responds, and have every appearance of being makeshifts. the eastern dome arch is prolonged into a barrel-vaulted bema, flanked by shallow niches leading to the prothesis and diaconicon, and beyond the bema is the semicircular apse. only the diaconicon now remains, covered by a cross-groined vault, and its apse pierced by a door leading to the hall of the teké. the place of the prothesis has been taken by a similar door and a small turkish dome. the western dome arch is filled in with a triple arcade resting on two marble columns with finely carved cubical capitals. above the arcade is a group of three windows whose heads are circular on the inside, but pointed on the outside. to the west of this arcade is an oblong passage corresponding to the 'inner narthex' of s. theodosia. it is in three bays. the central long bay is barrel-vaulted; the two outer bays open into the north and south 'aisles'; the bay to the north is covered by a turkish dome, while that to the south has a cross-groined vault which seems to be original. beyond this to the west is the outer narthex, a fine piece of work, and, from the character of its details, of the same period as the western dome arcade. it is in five bays. the three central bays correspond to the 'inner narthex'; the middle bay is covered by a low saucer dome on pendentives, and is separated from the two side bays by columns set against flat pilasters. the latter bays are covered by groined vaults springing from the imposts of the capitals, which are of the byzantine ionic type, with high carved imposts. they resemble the capitals in the gallery of ss. sergius and bacchus, and are worthy of particular notice. [illustration: plate xxviii. (1) s. andrew in krisei. outer narthex. (2) s. andrew in krisei. inner narthex, looking south. _to face page 114._] the two outer bays are separated from the central compartment of three bays by strongly projecting pilasters. they are covered by low saucer domes similar to the dome over the central bay, and communicate on the east with the 'aisles.' both outer and inner narthexes are in one story, above which rise the windows of the western dome arch and the semi-domes on north and south. turning now to the exterior, the south wall is the only outer wall which is exposed at the ground level. it is faced with finely dressed and polished stone, with thin joints, no tiles, and a stone-moulded cornice. the windows are covered with four centred turkish arches and are evident insertions. above the stone cornice rise the low drums of the semi-domes. these, as well as the square base of the dome and the dome itself, are faced with polished stone alternating with courses of three bricks set in thick beds of mortar. the angles are plain, without shafts, and the drums, dome base, and dome are crowned with stone cornices moulded to a reversed ogee. the north and south semi-domes are each pierced by three large windows, which on the interior cut through the curved surface of the domes, and on the exterior appear as dormers in the roof above the cornice. accordingly they are double glazed, with one glazed frame on the inside corresponding to the curved dome surface, and a second upright glazed frame on the outside. the roofs are covered with lead. the central dome is circular inside, with a high drum pierced by eight windows. on the outside it is octagonal, with a window on each side. these have circular arched heads, but have no moulding, shaft, or inset to either arches or sides. the dome is crowned by a moulded stone cornice of the same type as that of the other walls. in attempting to reconstruct the original form of the church we may first note those features which are evidently turkish. none of the exterior masonry is byzantine, as the use of polished ashlar with fine joints, of pointed arches, and of moulded stone cornices clearly proves. the absence of shafts at the angles of the dome drums and the unrecessed windows are additional proofs of this fact, and we may conclude that the entire exterior was refaced in turkish times. the diagonal arches under the north and south semi-domes are peculiar. furthermore, in lobed byzantine churches the lateral apses project beyond the square outer walls. here they are contained within the walls.[177] nor are the semi-domes themselves byzantine in character. the large windows in the dome surface and the lead-covered dormers placed above the flat moulded cornice betray a turkish hand; for windows in the dome are universal in the great turkish mosques, and the method of protecting them on the exterior with wooden dormers is quite foreign to byzantine ideas. the form of the drums and cornices should be compared with the minor domes of the mosque of sultan bayazid. a careful examination of the building has led to the following conclusions. the lateral semi-domes with their supporting arches are a turkish addition. the central dome, including the drum, is probably entirely turkish, and takes the place of an original ribbed dome. the two easternmost domes in the north 'aisle' and those over the inner narthex and the prothesis are also turkish, and, as already stated, the exterior of the entire building. on the other hand, the eastern apse, the dome arches, the arcade, and the windows above it on the west side of the dome, the inner narthex with the ground vault to the south of it, and the entire outer narthex, are parts of the original building, dating probably from the sixth or seventh century. it should be particularly noticed that the windows over the western dome arcade are circular-headed inside, though they have been provided with pointed heads on the outside in the process of refacing. [illustration: plate xxix. (1) s. andrew in krisei. in the cloister on the south side of the church, looking east. (2) s. andrew in krisei. the chain on the withered tree in the court on the west of the church. _to face page 116._] if we stand in the northern lateral apse and face the mihrab the reason for the alterations is evident. the original christian orientation is ignored, and the apses, in place of being lateral, are terminal. to the left is the old apse left unaltered; to the right, the original filling of the dome arch forms a 'nave-arcade' similar to that of the mosque of sultan bayazid; while by means of the additional apses the building has been converted into a miniature imperial mosque of the s. sophia type, a distinctly clever piece of turkish alteration. in its original form the central dome was surrounded by an 'ambulatory' of one story formed by the aisles and 'inner narthex.' such a plan is common to both the domed basilica type and the domed cross type, the difference depending upon the treatment of the cross arms above. in both types, however, the side dome arches are invariably filled in with arcades similar to that filling in the western arch of s. andrew. we are therefore justified in restoring such arcades here. the type thus restored differs from the domed cross church in that the cross arms do not extend to the outer walls, and from the domed basilica in that the western dome arch is treated in a similar manner to the lateral arches. to this type the term 'ambulatory church' may be applied. adjoining the west end of the church is the fine cloister of the teké of dervishes, probably on the lines of the old monastery. all the columns around the court are byzantine, and one of them bears the inscription: the (column) of, theophane--[greek: hê tês theôphanês] (fig. 69). in the south wall is built a beautiful byzantine doorway having jambs and lintel decorated on the face with a broad undercut scroll of flat leaves and four-petalled flowers, running between two rows of egg and dart, while on the intrados are two bands of floral ornaments separated by a bead moulding. one of the bands is clearly a vine scroll. the method employed here, of joining leaves to a centre so as to form spiral rosettes, is found also on some of the small capitals in s. sophia. similar rosettes appear in the decoration of the doorway to the holy sepulchre on the ivory in the trivulce collection at milan.[178] [illustration: fig. 36.--the church of s. andrew in krisei (restored plan).] [illustration: plate xxx. s. andrew in krisei. the decorated doorway in the cloister. _to face page 118._] [illustration: fig. 37.] [illustration: figs. 38 and 39.] [illustration: fig. 40.] [144] pachym. ii. pp. 35, 123. [145] _itin. russes_, p. 122. [146] synax., october 17. [147] pachym. ii. p. 133. [148] typicon of george kappodokes, quoted by the late lamented père j. pargoire in his masterly article on the 'suburb and the churches of s. mamas,' published in the _proceedings of the institut archéologique russe à constantinople_, vol. ix. fasc. 1, 32, 1904. in that article the writer demonstrates the erroneousness of the commonly received opinion, maintained, i regret, also in _byzantine constantinople_, pp. 89-90, that the suburb of s. mamas was situated near eyoub to the west of the blachernae quarter. père pargoire proves that the suburb stood on the european shore of the bosporus near beshiktash. he also shows that the church of s. mamas, near the gate xylokerkou, stood within the landward walls, somewhere between the studion and s. andrew in krisei. cf. _itinéraires russes_, p. 102. [149] the anonymus (banduri, iii. p. 54.) places s. mamas, [greek: ta xylokerkou], within the city, between the monastery of gastria and that of s. saviour in the chora. the suburb of s. mamas he places (_ut supra_, pp. 57-58) outside the city between galata and the diplokionion (beshiktash). this is only one proof of the correctness of père pargoire's position. see pargoire, _ut supra_. [150] migne, _patr. graec._ tom. 115, mensis octobr. p. 1128. [151] synax., october 17. [152] mansi, _sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio_, viii. p. 882. [153] mansi, _sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio_, viii. p. 906. [154] _itin. russes_, p. 232. [155] _ibid._ [156] theoph. cont. p. 323. [157] pachym. ii. p. 85; niceph. greg. i. pp. 167, 178. [158] niceph. greg. i. pp. 167, 168. [159] pachym. i. p. 39. [160] _ibid._ pp. 55-63. [161] _ibid._ i. p. 108. [162] niceph. greg. i. p. 178. [163] niceph. greg. i. p. 262. [164] _itin. russes_, p. 226; cf. pp. 117, 135, 161, 201. [165] pachym. ii. p. 132. [166] _ibid. ut supra._ [167] pachym. ii. p. 133; niceph. greg. p. 178. according to the latter historian, theodora erected a special residence for gregory near her monastery. [168] pachym. _ut supra_. [169] pachym. _ut supra_, p. 152. [170] _itin. russes_, p. 122. [171] miklosich et müller, i. p. 548, year 1371. [172] _ibid._ ii. p. 353, year 1400. [173] _ibid._ ii. p. 506, year 1401. [174] _itin. russes_, p. 232. [175] paspates, [greek: byzantinai meletai], p. 319. [176] _ibid._ p. 320. [177] _e.g._ s. elias, salonica; churches on mt. athos; s. mary of the mongols, constantinople. see plan, p. 279. [178] see figure 26 in diehl's _manuel d'art byzantin_, p. 74. that author (pp. 313-14) assigns the church of s. andrew to the seventh century, but recognizes in it also features of the sixth century. chapter vi the church of s. mary (panachrantos) of lips, pheneré isa mesjedi the old byzantine church, now pheneré isa mesjedi, in the valley of the lycus, to the south of the mosque of sultan mehemed, should be identified as the church of the theotokos of lips, although the patriarch constantius,[179] scarlatus byzantius and paspates[180] identify that church with demirjilar mesjedi, a building which lay to the east of the mosque of sultan mehemed, but fell in the earthquake of 1904. according to the writers just cited, pheneré isa mesjedi is the church of the theotokos panachrantos which appears in connection with certain incidents in the history of the patriarch veccus. in this view there is a curious mingling of truth and error. for, as a matter of fact, constantinople did possess a church dedicated to the panachrantos which had no connection with the monastery of lips. but that church was not the building in the valley of the lycus; it stood in the immediate vicinity of s. sophia. furthermore, while it is certain that there was in the city a church of the panachrantos which had nothing whatever to do with the monastery of lips, it is equally true that the sanctuary attached to that monastery was also dedicated to the theotokos under the same style. in other words, pheneré isa mesjedi was the sanctuary attached to the monastery of lips and was dedicated to the theotokos panachrantos, but was not the church of that name with which it has been identified by the authorities above mentioned.[181] [illustration: plate xxxi. (1) s. mary panachrantos. vault of the ambulatory passage on the west of the dome in the south church, looking north. (2) s. mary panachrantos. the interior of the north church, looking north. _to face page 122._] the correctness of these positions can be readily established. first, that a monastery of the panachrantos and the monastery of lips were different houses is evident from the express statements of the pilgrim zosimus to that effect. for, according to that visitor to the shrines of the city, a monastery, 'de panakhran,'[182] stood near s. sophia, 'non loin de sainte sophie.' stephen of novgorod refers to the monastery of the 'panacrante'[183] also in the same connection. and the proximity of the house to the great cathedral may be inferred likewise from the statements of the pilgrim alexander[184] and of the anonymous pilgrim.[185] on the other hand, zosimus speaks of the monastery of lips, 'couvent de femmes lipesi,'[186] as situated in another part of the city. it was closely connected with the monastery of kyra martha,[187] from which to s. sophia was a far cry. the distinction of the two monasteries is, moreover, confirmed by the historians pachymeres[188] and nicephorus gregoras,[189] who employ the terms panachrantos and lips to designate two distinct monastic establishments situated in different quarters of the capital. [illustration: fig. 41. s. mary parachrantos. details of the shafts in the east windows of the south church.] in the next place, the monastery of lips did not stand at the point marked by demirjilar mesjedi. the argument urged in favour of its position at that point is the fact that the monastery is described as near the church of the holy apostles ([greek: plêsion tôn hagiôn apostolôn]). but while proximity to the holy apostles must mark any edifice claiming to be the monastery of lips, that proximity alone is not sufficient to identify the building. pheneré[190] isa mesjedi satisfies that condition equally well. but what turns the balance of evidence in its favour is that it satisfies also every other condition that held true of the monastery of lips. that house was closely associated with the monastery of kyra martha, as phrantzes[191] expressly declares, and as may be inferred from the narratives of the russian pilgrims.[192] that being so, the position of kyra martha will determine likewise that of the monastery of lips. now, kyra martha lay to the south of the holy apostles. for it was reached, says the anonymous pilgrim of the fifteenth century[193] 'en descendent (du couvent) des apôtres _dans la direction du midi_'; while stephen of novgorod[194] reached the holy apostles in proceeding northwards from the kyra martha. hence the monastery of lips lay to the south of the holy apostles, as pheneré isa mesjedi stands to the south of the mosque of sultan mehemed, which has replaced that famous church. with this conclusion agrees, moreover, the description given of the district in which the monastery of lips stood. it was a remote and quiet part of the city, like the district in which pheneré isa mesjedi is situated to-day; [greek: pros ta tou liba merê, topon apokismenon kai hêsychon].[194] furthermore, the monastery of lips borrowed its name from its founder or restorer, constantine lips;[196] and in harmony with that fact we find on the apse of one of the two churches which combine to form pheneré isa mesjedi an inscription in honour of a certain constantine.[197] unfortunately the inscription is mutilated, and there were many constantines besides the one surnamed lips. still, the presence of the principal name of the builder of the monastery of lips on a church, which we have also other reasons to believe belonged to that monastery, adds greatly to the cumulative force of the argument in favour of the view that constantine lips is the person intended. but, if necessary, the argument can be still further strengthened. the church attached to the monastery of lips was dedicated to the theotokos, as may be inferred from the circumstance that the annual state visit of the emperor to that shrine took place on the festival of the nativity of the virgin.[198] so likewise was the sanctuary which pheneré isa mesjedi represents, for the inscription it bears invokes her blessing upon the building and its builder (fig. 42). would that the identity of all the churches in constantinople could be as strongly established. it remains to add in this connection that while the monastery of lips and that of the panachrantos associated with veccus were different houses, the churches of both monasteries were dedicated to the theotokos under the same attribute--panachrantos, the immaculate. the invocation inscribed on pheneré isa mesjedi addresses the theotokos by that epithet. but to identify different churches because of the same dedication is only another instance of the liability to allow similarity of names to conceal the difference between things. the distinction thus established between the two monasteries is important not only in the interests of accuracy; it also throws light on the following historical incidents. in 1245 permission was granted for the transference of the relics of s. philip the apostle from the church of the panachrantos to western europe. the document authorising that act was signed by the dean of the church and by the treasurer of s. sophia.[199] the intervention of the latter official becomes more intelligible when we know that the monastery of the panachrantos stood near s. sophia, and not, as paspates maintains, at pheneré isa mesjedi. again, the patriarch veccus took refuge on two occasions in the monastery of the panachrantos, once in 1279 and again in 1282. he could do so readily and without observation, as the case demanded, when the shelter he sought stood in the immediate vicinity of his cathedral and official residence. to escape to a monastery situated in the valley of the lycus was, under the circumstances, impracticable. [illustration: plate xxxii. (1) s. mary panachrantos. the north church, looking east. (2) s. mary panachrantos. the north church, looking west. _to face page 126._] constantine lips was an important personage during the reign of leo the wise (886-912) and of constantine vii. porphyrogenitus (912-956). under the former emperor he held the offices of protospatharius and domestic of the household. he also went on several missions to the prince of taron, in the course of which romance mingled with politics, with the result that the daughter of lips became engaged to the son of the prince.[200] upon the accession of constantine porphyrogenitus, lips came under a cloud, on suspicion of being implicated in the plot to raise constantine ducas to the throne, and was obliged to flee the capital.[201] eventually he was restored to favour, and enjoyed the dignities of patrician, proconsul, commander of the foreign guard, and drungarius of the fleet.[202] he fell in battle in the war of 917 between the empire and the bulgarians under symeon.[203] the monastery of lips was restored in the reign of leo the wise; the festival of the dedication of the church being celebrated in the year 908, in the month of june.[204] the emperor honoured the occasion with his presence, and attended a banquet in the refectory of the monastery. but the happy proceedings had not gone far, when they were suddenly interrupted by a furious south-west wind which burst upon the city and shook houses and churches with such violence that people feared to remain under cover and imagined that the end of the world had come, until the storm was allayed by a heavy downpour of rain. as the south-west wind was named lips, it is not clear whether the historians who mention this incident intend to explain thereby the origin of constantine's surname, or simply point to a curious coincidence. near the church lips erected also a xenodocheion for the reception of strangers.[204] the monastery is mentioned by the anonymus of the eleventh century,[206] but does not appear again until the recovery of the empire from the latins in 1261. in the efforts then made to restore all things, it underwent repairs at the instance of the empress theodora,[207] the consort of michael palaeologus, and from that time acquired greater importance than it had previously enjoyed. within its precincts, on the 16th of february 1304, a cold winter day, theodora herself was laid to rest with great pomp, and amid the tears of the poor to whom she had been a good friend.[208] there, two years later, a splendid service was celebrated for the benefit of the soul of her son constantine porphyrogenitus,[209] as some compensation for the cruel treatment he had suffered at the hands of his jealous brother andronicus. there, that emperor himself became a monk two years before his death,[210] and there he was buried on the 13th of february 1332. the monastery contained also the tomb of the empress irene,[211] first wife of andronicus iii., and the tomb of the russian princess anna[212] who married john vii. palaeologus while crown prince, but died before she could ascend the throne, a victim of the great plague which raged in constantinople in 1417. the monastery appears once more as the scene of a great religious revival, when a certain nun thomais, who enjoyed a great reputation for sanctity, took up her residence in the neighbourhood. so large were the crowds of women who flocked to place themselves under her rule that 'the monastery of lips and martha' was filled to overflowing.[213] the church was converted into a mosque by pheneré isa, who died in 1496, and has undergone serious alterations since that time.[214] [illustration: plate xxxiii. (1) s. mary panachrantos. the diaconicon, looking east. (2) s. mary panachrantos. the arch under west side of the central dome in the south church. _to face page 128._] _architectural features_ the building comprises two churches, which, while differing in date and type, stand side by side, and communicate with each other through an archway in their common wall, and through a passage in the common wall of their narthexes. as if to keep the two churches more closely together, they are bound by an exonarthex, which, after running along their western front, returns eastwards along the southern wall of the south church as a closed cloister or gallery. _the north church._--the north church is of the normal 'four column' type. the four columns which originally supported the dome were, however, removed when the building was converted into a mosque in turkish times, and have been replaced by two large pointed arches which span the entire length of the church. but the old wall arches of the dome-columns are still visible as arched piercings in the spandrils of the turkish arches. a similar turkish 'improvement' in the substitution of an arch for the original pair of columns is found in the north side of the parecclesion attached to the pammakaristos (p. 152). the dome with its eight windows is likewise turkish. the windows are lintelled and the cornice is of the typical turkish form. the bema is almost square and is covered by a barrel vault formed by a prolongation of the eastern dome arch; the apse is lighted by a lofty triple window. by what is an exceptional arrangement, the lateral chapels are as lofty both on the interior and on the exterior as is the central apse, but they are entered by low doors. in the normal arrangement, as, for instance, in the myrelaion, the lateral chapels are low and are entered by vaults rising to the same height as those of the angle chambers, between which the central apse rises higher both externally and internally. the chapels have niches arched above the cornice on three sides, and are covered by cross-groined vaults which combine with the semicircular heads of the niches to produce a very beautiful effect. to the east they have long bema arches flanked by two small semicircular niches, and are lighted by small single windows. the church is preceded by a narthex in three bays covered by cross-groined vaults supported on strong transverse arches. at either end it terminates in a large semicircular niche. the northern one is intact, but of the southern niche only the arched head remains. the lower part of the niche has been cut away to afford access to the narthex of the south church. this would suggest that, at least, the narthex of the south church is of later date than the north church. considered as a whole the north church is a good example of its type, lofty and delicate in its proportions. _the south church._--the narthex is unsymmetrical to the church and in its present form must be the result of extensive alteration. it is in two very dissimilar bays. that to the north is covered with a cross-groined vault of lath and plaster, probably on the model of an original vault constructed of brick. a door in the eastern wall leads to the north aisle of the church. the southern bay is separated from its companion by a broad arch. it is an oblong chamber reduced to a figure approaching a square by throwing broad arches across its ends and setting back the wall arches from the cornice. this arrangement allows the bay to be covered by a low drumless dome. two openings, separated by a pier, lead respectively to the nave and the southern aisle of the church. the interior of the church has undergone serious alterations since it has become a mosque, but enough of the original building has survived to show that the plan was that of an 'ambulatory church.' each side of the ambulatory is divided into three bays, covered with cross-groined vaults whose springings to the central area correspond exactly to the columns of such an arcade as that which occupies the west dome bay of s. andrew (p. 114). we may therefore safely assume that triple arcades originally separated the ambulatory from the central area and filled in the lower part of the dome arches. the tympana of these arches above were pierced to north, south, and west by three windows now built up but whose outlines are still visible beneath the whitewash which has been daubed over them. the angles of the ambulatory are covered by cross vaults. the pointed arches at present opening from the ambulatory to the central area were formed to make the church more suitable for moslem worship, as were those of the north church. in fact we have here a repetition of the treatment of the pammakaristos (p. 151), when converted into a mosque. the use of cross-groined vaults in the ambulatory is a feature which distinguishes this church from the other ambulatory churches of constantinople and connects it more closely with the domed-cross church. the vaults in the northern portion of the ambulatory have been partially defaced in the course of turkish repairs. [illustration: plate xxxiv. (1) s. mary panachrantos. east window of the south church. (2) s. mary panachrantos. the outer narthex, looking south. _to face page 130._] the central apse is lighted by a large triple window. it is covered by a cross-groined vault and has on each side a tall shallow segmental niche whose head rises above the springing cornice. below this the niches have been much hacked away. the passages leading to the lateral chapels are remarkably low, not more than 1.90 m. high to the crown of the arch. the southern chapel is similar to the central apse, and is lighted by a large triple window. the northern chapel is very different. it is much broader; broader indeed than the ambulatory which leads to it, and is covered by barrel vaults. the niches in the bema only rise to a short distance above the floor, not, as on the opposite side, to above the cornice. it is lighted by a large triple window similar to those of the other two apses. [illustration: fig. 42. s. mary panachrantos. inscription on the apse of the north church.] from love for the mother of god ... beautiful temple ... constantine; which splendid work ... of the shining heaven an inhabitant and citizen him show o immaculate one; friendliness recompensing ... the temple ... the gift. the outer narthex on the west of the two churches and the gallery on the south of the south church are covered with cross-groined vaults without transverse arches. the wall of the south church, which shows in the south gallery, formed the original external wall of the building. it is divided into bays with arches in two and three orders of brick reveals, and with shallow niches on the broader piers. the exterior of the two churches is very plain. on the west are shallow wall arcades in one order, on the south similar arcades in two orders. the northern side is inaccessible owing to the turkish houses built against it. on the east all the apses project boldly. the central apse of the south church has seven sides and shows the remains of a decoration of niches in two stories similar to that of the pantokrator (p. 235); the other apses present three sides. the carved work on the window shafts is throughout good. an inscription commemorating the erection of the northern church is cut on a marble string-course which, when complete, ran across the whole eastern end, following the projecting sides of the apses. the letters are sunk and marked with drill holes. wulff is of opinion that the letters were originally filled in with lead, and, from the evidence of this lead infilling, dates the church as late as the fifteenth century. but it is equally possible that the letters were marked out by drill holes which were then connected with the chisel, and that the carver, pleased by the effect given by the sharp points of shadow in the drill holes, deliberately left them. the grooves do not seem suitable for retaining lead. in the course of their history both churches were altered, even in byzantine days. the south church is the earlier structure, but shows signs of several rebuildings. the irregular narthex and unsymmetrical eastern side chapels are evidently not parts of an original design. in the wall between the two churches there are indications which appear to show the character of these alterations and the order in which the different buildings were erected. [illustration: plate xxxv. (1) s. mary panachrantos. east end of the south church. (2) s. mary panachrantos. east end of the north church. _to face page 132._] as has already been pointed out, the north side of the ambulatory in the south church, which for two-thirds of its length is of practically the same width as the southern and western sides, suddenly widens out at the eastern end and opens into a side chapel broader than that on the opposite side. the two large piers separating the ambulatory from the central part of the north church are evidently formed by building the wall of one church against the pre-existing wall of the other. the easternmost pier is smaller and, as can be seen from the plan, is a continuation of the wall of the north church. clearly the north church was already built when the north-eastern chapel of the south church was erected, and the existing wall was utilised. as the external architectural style of the three apses of the south church is identical, it is reasonable to conclude that this part of the south church also is later in date than the north church. for if the entire south church had been built at the same time as the apses, we should expect to find the lateral chapels similar. but they are not. the vaulting of the central apse and of the southern lateral chapel are similar, while that of the northern chapel is different. on the same supposition we should also expect to find a similar use of the wall of the north church throughout, but we have seen that two piers representing the old wall of the south church still remain. the narthex of the south church, however, is carried up to the line of the north church wall. the four column type is not found previous to the tenth century. the date of the north church was originally given on the inscription, but is now obliterated. kondakoff dates it in the eleventh or twelfth century. wulff would put it as late as the fifteenth. but if the view that this church was attached to the monastery of lips is correct, the building must belong to the tenth century. the ambulatory type appears to be early, and the examples in constantinople seem to date from the sixth to the ninth century. it may therefore be concluded that, unless there is proof to the contrary, the south church is the earlier. in that case the southernmost parts of the two large piers which separate the two churches represent the old outer wall of the original south church, whose eastern chapels were then symmetrical. to this the north church was added, but at some subsequent date the apses of the south church demanded repair and when they were rebuilt, the north-eastern chapel was enlarged by the cutting away of the old outer wall. to this period also belongs the present inner narthex. the fact that the head of the terminal niche at the south end of the north narthex remains above the communicating door shows that the south narthex is later. the outer narthex and south gallery are a still later addition. [illustration: fig. 43.] [illustration: fig. 44.] [illustration: figs. 45 and 46.] [179] _ancient and modern c.p._ pp. 70, 79. [180] pp. 322, 325. [181] to mühlmann and mordtmann, _esq. top._ paragraph 127, belongs the credit of the identification of pheneré isa mesjedi with the monastery of lips. but i have not seen any full statement of their reasons for that opinion. [182] _itin. russes_, p. 202. [183] _ibid._ p. 119. [184] _ibid._ p. 162. [185] _ibid._ p. 230. [186] _ibid._ p. 205. [187] phrantzes, pp. 141; _itin. russes_, pp. 205, 122, 234. [188] i. p. 455; ii. p. 19. [189] i. p. 160. [190] theoph. cont. p. 371. [191] page 141. [192] _itin. russes_, pp. 205, 234. [193] _ibid._ p. 234. [194] _ibid._ p. 122. [195] du cange, iv. p. 93, quoting the life of nicholas of the studion. the district was named [greek: merdosagarê], leo gramm. p. 280. [196] theoph. cont. p. 371. [197] see inscription, p. 131. [198] codinus, _de officiis_, p. 80. [199] du cange, iv. p. 93. [200] const. porphyr. _de adm. imp._ c. 43. [201] theoph. cont. p. 384. [202] const. porphyr. _ut supra_. [203] theoph. cont. p. 389. [204] _ibid._ p. 371. [205] banduri, iii. p. 52. [206] _ut supra_. [207] niceph. greg. i. p. 162. [208] pachym. i. p. 378. [209] _ibid._ p. 425. [210] niceph. greg. i. p. 461. [211] cantacuz. i. p. 193. [212] phrantzes, p. 110. [213] _ibid._ p. 141. [214] paspates, p. 325. chapter vii the church of the theotokos pammakaristos, fetiyeh jamissi the byzantine church, now fetiyeh jamissi, overlooking the golden horn from the heights of the fifth hill, was the church of the theotokos pammakaristos (the all blessed), attached to the monastery known by that name. regarding the identity of the church there can be no manner of doubt, as the building remained in the hands of the greek community for 138 years after the conquest, and was during that period the patriarchal cathedral. the questions when and by whom the church was founded cannot be so readily determined. according to a manuscript in the library of the greek theological college on the island of halki (one of the small group of islands known as the princes' islands in the sea of marmora), an inscription in the bema of the church ascribed the foundation of the building to john comnenus and his wife anna.[215] the manuscript perished in the earthquake which reduced the college to a heap of ruins in 1894, but the inscription had fortunately been copied in the catalogue of the library before that disaster occurred. it read as follows: [greek: iôannou phrontisma komnênou tode annês te rhizês doukikês tês syzygou. hois antidousa plousian, hagnê, charin taxais en oikô tou theou monotropous].[216] [illustration: plate xxxvi. (1) s. mary pammakaristos, from the south-east. (2) s. mary pammakaristos, from the west. _to face page 138._] the legend cannot refer to the emperor john comnenus (1118-1143), for his consort was neither named anna nor related to the family of ducas. she was a hungarian princess, who, on becoming the emperor's bride, assumed the name irene. mr. siderides, therefore, suggests that the persons mentioned in the inscription were that emperor's grandparents, the curopalates and grand domestic john comnenus and his wife, the celebrated anna dalassena, who bore likewise the title of ducaena. in that case, as the curopalates and grand domestic died in 1067, the foundation of the church cannot be much later than the middle of the eleventh century. but whether the term [greek: phrontisma] should be understood to mean that the church was founded by the illustrious persons above mentioned, or was an object already in existence upon which they bestowed their thought and care, is not quite certain. mr. siderides is prepared to adopt the latter meaning, and the architecture of the church allows us to assign the foundation of the building to an earlier date than the age of the grandparents of the emperor john comnenus. but while the connection of the church with those personages must not be overlooked, the building underwent such extensive repairs in the thirteenth century that the honour of being its founder was transferred to its restorer at that period. pachymeres[217] speaks of the monastery as the monastery of michael glabas tarchaniotes ([greek: tên idian monên]). while the poet philes (1275-1346), referring to a figure portrayed on the walls of the church, asks the spectator, seest thou, o stranger, this great man? he is none other than the protostrator, the builder of this monastery, the wonder of the world, the noble glabas. [greek: horas ton andra ton polyn touton, xene; ekeinos houtos estin ho prôtostratôr, ho dêmiourgos tês monês tês enthade, to thauma tês gês, ho glabas ho gennadas].[218] in accordance with these statements, gerlach[219] saw depicted on the walls of the church two figures in archducal attire, representing the founder of the church and his wife, with this legend beside them: michael ducas glabas tarchaniotes, protostrator and founder; maria ducaena comnena palaeologina blachena,[219] protostratorissa and foundress. [greek: michaêl doukas glabas tarchaniôtês, ho prôtostratôr kai ktêtôr; maria doukaina komnênê palaiologina blakaina,[220] hê prôtostratorissa kai ktêtôrissa]. michael glabas was created protostrator in 1292, and acquired the right to appoint the abbot of the monastery before 1295. consequently the completion of the repair of the church at his instance must be assigned to the interval between these dates. the protostrator michael glabas ducas tarchaniotes, who must not be confounded with his namesake the protovestiarius michael palaeologus tarchaniotes,[221] enjoyed the reputation of an able general and wise counsellor in the reign of andronicus ii., although, being a victim to gout, he was often unable to serve his country in the former capacity. he was noted also for his piety and his interest in the poor, as may be inferred from his restoration of the pammakaristos and the erection of a xenodocheion.[222] his wife was a niece of the emperor michael palaeologus, and related, as her titles imply, to other great families in the country. a pious woman, and devoted to her husband, she proved the sincerity of her affection by erecting to his memory, as will appear in the sequel, the beautiful chapel at the south-east end of the church. before her death she retired from the world and assumed the name martha in religion.[223] in addition to the figures of the restorers of the church, portraits in mosaic of the emperor andronicus and his empress anna, as the legends beside the portraits declared, stood on the right of the main entrance to the patriarchate.[224] [symbol: cross][greek: andronikos en chô tô thô pistos basileus kai autokratôr rhômeôn ho palaiologos]. [symbol: cross][greek: anna en chô tô thô pistê augousta hê palaiologina]. as both andronicus ii. and his grandson andronicus iii. were married to ladies named anna, it is not clear which of these imperial couples was here portrayed. the fact that the consort of the former emperor died before the restoration of the church by the protostrator michael is certainly in favour of the view supported by mr. siderides that the portraits represented the latter emperor and empress.[224] why these personages were thus honoured is not explained. having restored the monastery, michael glabas entrusted the direction of its affairs to a certain monk named cosmas, whom he had met and learned to admire during an official tour in the provinces. in due time cosmas was introduced to andronicus ii., and won the imperial esteem to such an extent as to be appointed patriarch.[226] the new prelate was advanced in years, modest, conciliatory, but, withal, could take a firm stand for what he considered right. on the other hand, the piety of andronicus was not of the kind that adheres tenaciously to a principle or ignores worldly considerations. hence occasions for serious differences between the two men on public questions were inevitable, and in the course of their disputes the monastery of the pammakaristos, owing to its association with cosmas, became the scene of conflicts between church and state. [illustration: plate xxxvii. (1) s. mary pammakaristos. inner narthex, looking south. (2) s. mary pammakaristos. the dome, looking west. _to face page 142._] no act of andronicus shocked the public sentiment or his day more painfully than the political alliance he cemented by giving his daughter simonis, a mere child of six years, as a bride to the kraal of servia, who was forty years her senior, and had been already married three times, not always, it was alleged, in the most regular manner.[227] cosmas did everything in his power to prevent the unnatural union, and when his last desperate effort to have an audience of the emperor on the subject was repelled, he left the patriarchal residence and retired to his old home at the pammakaristos. there, during the absence of the emperor in thessalonica, where the objectionable marriage was celebrated, cosmas remained for two years, attending only to the most urgent business of the diocese.[228] upon the return of andronicus to the capital, cosmas was conspicuous by his refusal to take part in the loyal demonstrations which welcomed the emperor back. andronicus might well have seized the opportunity to remove the patriarch from office for discourtesy so marked and offensive, but, instead of doing so, he sent a friendly message to the pammakaristos, asking cosmas to forget all differences and resume his public duties. achilles in his tent was not to be conciliated so easily. to the imperial request cosmas replied by inviting andronicus to come to the pammakaristos, and submit the points at issue between the emperor and himself to a tribunal of bishops and other ecclesiastics specially convened for the purpose. he furthermore declared that he would return to the patriarchal residence only if the verdict of the court was in his favour, otherwise he would resign office. the public feeling against andronicus was so strong that he deemed it expedient to comply with this strange demand, going to the monastery late at night to escape notice. the tribunal having been called to order, cosmas produced his charges against the emperor: the servian marriage; oppressive taxes upon salt and other necessaries of life, whereby a heavy burden was laid upon the poor, on one hand, and imperial prodigality was encouraged on the other; failure to treat the petitions addressed to him by cosmas with the consideration which they deserved. the defence of andronicus was skilful. he maintained that no marriage of the kraal had violated canon law as some persons claimed. he touched the feelings of his audience by dwelling upon the sacrifice he had made as a father in bestowing the hand of a beloved daughter on such a man as the servian prince; only reasons of state had constrained him to sanction a union so painful to his heart. the taxes to which objection had been taken were not imposed, he pleaded, to gratify any personal love of money, but were demanded by the needs of the empire. as to love of money, he had reasons to believe that it was a weakness of which his accuser was guilty, and to prove that statement, he there and then sent two members of the court to the treasurer of the palace for evidence in support of the charge. in regard to the accusation that he did not always favour the petitions addressed to him by the patriarch, he remarked that it was not an emperor's duty to grant all the petitions he received, but to discriminate between them according to their merits. at the same time he expressed his readiness to be more indulgent in the future. moved by these explanations, as well as by the entreaties of the emperor and the bishops present at this strange scene, held in the dead of night in the secrecy of the monastery, cosmas relented, and returned next day to the patriarchate.[229] but peace between the two parties was not of long duration. only a few weeks later andronicus restored to office a bishop of ephesus who had been canonically deposed. cosmas protested, and when his remonstrances were disregarded, he withdrew again to the pammakaristos,[230] and refused to allow his seclusion to be disturbed on any pretext. to the surprise of everybody, however, he suddenly resumed his functions--in obedience, he claimed, to a voice which said to him, 'if thou lovest me, feed my sheep.'[231] but such conduct weakened his position. his enemies brought a foul charge against him. his demand for a thorough investigation of the libel was refused. and in his vexation he once more sought the shelter of the pammakaristos, abdicated the patriarchal throne, and threw the ecclesiastical world into a turmoil.[232] even then there were still some, including the emperor, who thought order and peace would be more speedily restored by recalling cosmas to the office he had laid down. but the opposition to him had become too powerful, and he was compelled to bid farewell to the retreat he loved, and to end his days in his native city of sozopolis, a man worsted in battle.[233] [illustration: plate xxxviii. s. mary pammakaristos. the parecclesion from the south-east. _to face page 144._] of the life at the pammakaristos during the remainder of the period before the turkish conquest only a few incidents are recorded. one abbot of the monastery, niphon, was promoted in 1397 to the bishopric of old patras, and another named theophanes was made bishop of the important see of heraclea. an instance of the fickleness of fortune was brought home to the monks of the establishment by the disgrace of the logothetes gabalas and his confinement in one of their cells, under the following circumstances:--in the struggle between john cantacuzene and apocaucus for ascendancy at the court of the dowager empress anna of savoy and her son, john vi. palaeologus, gabalas[234] had been persuaded to join the party of the latter politician by the offer, among other inducements, of the hand of apocaucus' daughter in marriage. but when gabalas urged the fulfilment of the promise, he was informed that the young lady and her mother had meantime taken a violent aversion to him on account of his corpulent figure. thereupon gabalas, like a true lover, had recourse to a method of banting recommended by an italian quack. but the treatment failed to reduce the flesh of the unfortunate suitor; it only ruined his health, and made him even less attractive than before. another promise by which his political support had been gained was the hope that he would share the power which apocaucus should win. but this apocaucus was unwilling to permit, alleging as an excuse that his inconvenient partisan had become obnoxious to the empress. the disappointment and anxiety caused by this information wore so upon the mind of the logothetes as to alter his whole appearance. he now became thin indeed, as if suffering from consumption, and in his dread of the storm gathering about him he removed his valuable possessions to safe hiding. whereupon the wily apocaucus drew the attention of the empress to this strange behaviour, and aroused her suspicions that gabalas was engaged in some dark intrigue against her. no wonder that the logothetes observed in consequence a marked change in the empress's manner towards him, and in his despair he took sanctuary in s. sophia, and assumed the garb of a monk. the perfidy of apocaucus might have stopped at this point, and allowed events to follow their natural course. but though willing to act a villain's part, he wished to act it under the mask of a friend, to betray with a kiss. accordingly he went to s. sophia to express his sympathy with gabalas, and played the part of a man overwhelmed with sorrow at a friend's misfortune so well that gabalas forgot for a while his own griefs, and undertook the task of consoling the hypocritical mourner. soon an imperial messenger appeared upon the scene with the order for gabalas to leave the church and proceed to the monastery of the pammakaristos. and there he remained until, on the charge of attempting to escape, he was confined in a stronger prison. another person detained at the pammakaristos was a turkish rebel named zinet, who in company with a pretender to the throne of mehemed i., had fled in 1418 to constantinople for protection. he was welcomed by the byzantine government, which was always glad to receive refugees whom it could use either to gratify or to embarrass the ottoman court, as the varying relations between the two empires might dictate. it was a policy that proved fatal at last, but meanwhile it often afforded some advantage to byzantine diplomats. on this occasion it was thought advisable to please the sultan, and while the pretender was confined elsewhere, zinet, with a suite of ten persons, was detained in the pammakaristos. upon the accession of murad ii., however, the government of constantinople thought proper to take the opposite course. accordingly the pretender was liberated, and zinet sent to support the turkish party which disputed murad's claims. but life at the pammakaristos had not won the refugee's heart to the cause of the byzantines. the fanatical monks with whom he was associated there had insulted his faith; his greek companions in arms did not afford him all the satisfaction he desired, and so zinet returned at last to his natural allegiance. the conduct of the byzantine government on this occasion led to the first siege of constantinople, in 1422, by the turks. the most important event in the history of the monastery occurred after the city had fallen into turkish hands. the church then became the cathedral of the patriarchs of constantinople. it is true that, in the first instance, the conqueror had given the church of the holy apostles to the patriarch gennadius as a substitute for the church of s. sophia. but the native population did not affect the central quarters of the city, preferring to reside near the golden horn and the sea of marmora. furthermore, the body of a murdered turk was discovered one morning in the court of the holy apostles, and excited among his countrymen the suspicion that the murder had been committed by a christian hand.[235] the few greeks settled in the neighbourhood were therefore in danger of retaliation, and gennadius begged permission to withdraw to the pammakaristos, around which a large colony of greeks, who came from other cities to repeople the capital, had settled.[236] the objection that nuns occupied the monastery at that moment was easily overcome by removing the sisterhood to the small monastery attached to the church of s. john in trullo (achmed pasha mesjedi) in the immediate vicinity,[237] and for 138 years thereafter the throne of seventeen patriarchs of constantinople stood in the church of the pammakaristos, with the adjoining monastery as their official residence.[238] as the chief sanctuary of the greek community, the building was maintained, it would appear, in good order and displayed considerable beauty. 'even at night,' to quote extravagant praise, 'when no lamp was burning, it shone like the sun.' but even sober european visitors in the sixteenth century agree in describing the interior of the church as resplendent with eikons and imperial portraits. it was also rich in relics, some of them brought by gennadius from the church of the holy apostles and from other sanctuaries lost to the greeks. among the interesting objects shown to visitors was a small rude sarcophagus inscribed with the imperial eagle and the name of the emperor alexius comnenus.[239] it was so plain and rough that schweigger speaks of it as too mean to contain the dust of a german peasant.[240] but that any sarcophagus professing to hold the remains of alexius comnenus should be found at the pammakaristos is certainly surprising. that emperor was buried, according to the historian nicetas choniates, in the church of s. saviour the philanthropist,[241] near the palace of mangana, on the east shore of the city. nor could the body of a byzantine autocrator have been laid originally in a sarcophagus such as breüning and schweigger describe. these difficulties in the way of regarding the monument as genuine are met by the suggestion made by mr. siderides, that when the church of christ the philanthropist was appropriated by the turks in connection with the building of the seraglio, some patriotic hand removed the remains of alexius comnenus from the splendid coffin in which they were first entombed, and, placing them in what proved a convenient receptacle, carried them for safe keeping to the pammakaristos. the statement that anna comnena, the celebrated daughter of alexius comnenus, was also buried in this church rests upon the misunderstanding of a passage in the work of m. crusius, where, speaking of that princess, the author says: 'quae (anna) anno domini 1117 vixit; filia alexii comneni imp. cujus sepulchrum adhuc exstat in templo patriarchatus constantinopli a d. steph. gerlachio visum.'[242] but _cujus_ (whose) refers, not to anna, but to alexius. this rendering is put beyond dispute by the statement made by gerlach in a letter to crusius, that he found, in the pammakaristos, 'sepulchrum alexii comneni [greek: autokratoros],' the tomb of the emperor alexius comnenus.[243] the church was converted into a mosque under murad iii. (1574-1592), and bears the style fetiyeh, 'of the conqueror,' in honour of the conquest of georgia and azerbaijan during his reign. according to gerlach, the change had been feared for some time, if for no other reason, because of the fine position occupied by the church. but quarrels between different factions of the greek clergy and between them and government officials had also something to do with the confiscation of the building.[244] when the cross, which glittered above the dome and gleamed far and wide, indicating the seat of the chief prelate of the orthodox communion, was taken down, 'a great sorrow befell the christians.'[244] the humble church of s. demetrius kanabou, in the district of balat, then became the patriarchal seat until 1614, when that honour was conferred upon the church which still retains it, the church of s. george in the quarter of phanar. [illustration: plate xxxix. (1) s. mary pammakaristos. east end of the parecclesion. (2) s. mary pammakaristos. the west column in the parecclesion. _to face page 148._] _architectural features_ owing to the numerous additions and alterations introduced into the original fabric, both before and since the turkish conquest, the original plan of the building is not immediately apparent. nor does the interior, with its heavy piers, raised floor, and naked walls correspond to the accounts given of its former splendour and beauty. a careful study will, however, unravel the tangled scheme which the actual condition of the church presents, and detect some traces of the beauty which has faded and passed away. the building might be mistaken for a domed church with four aisles, two narthexes, and a parecclesion. but notwithstanding all the disguises due to the changes it has undergone, the original church was unquestionably an 'ambulatory' church. it had, moreover, at one time a third narthex, of which now only the foundations remain on the west side of the church. the present outer narthex is in five bays, covered by dome vaults on transverse arches, and is paved with hexagonal tiles. the centre bay is marked by transverse arches of greater breadth and projects slightly on the outside, forming a plain central feature. at the north end a door led to the third narthex, but has now been built up; at the south end is a door inserted in turkish times. to the south of the central bay the exterior is treated with plain arcades in two orders of brick; to the north these are absent, probably on account of some alterations. at the south end the narthex returns round the church in two bays, leading to the parecclesion. the inner narthex is in four bays covered with cross-groined vaults without transverse arches, and is at present separated from the body of the church by three clumsy hexagonal piers, on to which, as may be seen in the photograph (plate xxxvii.), the groins descend in a very irregular manner. in the inner part of the church is a square central area covered by a lofty drum-dome of twenty-four concave compartments, alternately pierced by windows. the intermediate compartments correspond to the piers, and the dome is therefore twelve-sided on the exterior with angle half columns and arches in two orders. internally the dome arches are recessed back from the lower wall face and spring from a heavy string-course. they were originally pierced on the north, south, and west sides by three windows similar to those in the west dome arch of s. andrew (p. 114). the west side is now occupied by the wooden balcony of a turkish house built over the narthex, but there are no indications of any gallery in that position. below the dome arches the central area communicates with the surrounding ambulatory on the north, west, and south sides by large semicircular arches corbelled slightly out from the piers. on the east side the dome arch is open from floor to vault, and leads by a short bema to a five-sided space covered by a dome and forming a kind of triangular apse, on the south-eastern side of which is the mihrab. as is clearly shown by the character of its dome windows and masonry, this structure is a turkish addition taking the place of the original three eastern apses, and is a clever piece of planning to alter the orientation of the building. the ambulatory on the three sides of the central square is covered by barrel vaults on the sides and with cross-groined vaults at the angles. to the east it opened into the eastern lateral chapels, now swept away, though the passage from the prothesis to the central apse still remains. on the north side of the church is a passage in three bays covered by dome vaults on transverse arches, communicating at the west end with the inner narthex, and at the east terminating in a small chapel covered by an octagonal drum dome. the upper part of the apse of the chapel is still visible on the exterior, but the lower part has been destroyed and its place taken by a turkish window. the floor of the eastern part of the church is raised a step above the general level, this step being carried diagonally across the floor in the centre part so as to line with the side of the apse containing the mihrab. [illustration: plate xl. (1) s. mary pammakaristos. the east column in the parecclesion. (2) s. mary pammakaristos. column flanking the east window of the apse of the parecclesion. (3) s. mary pammakaristos. the west column in the parecclesion. _to face page 150._] in considering the original form of the church there is yet another important point to be noted. it will be seen from the plan that at the ground level the central area is not cruciform, but is rather an oblong from east to west with large arches on the north and south sides. this oblong is, however, reduced to a square at the dome level by arches thrown across the east and west ends, and this, in conjunction with the setting back of the dome arches already mentioned, produces a cruciform plan at the springing level. the oblong character of the central area is characteristic of the domed basilica and distinguishes this church from s. andrew or s. mary panachrantos. the employment of barrel vaults in the ambulatory is also a point of resemblance to the domed basilica type, though the cross groin is used on the angles.[246] in this feature s. mary pammakaristos resembles s. andrew and differs from s. mary panachrantos. we are probably justified in restoring triple arcades in all the three lower arches similar to the triple arcade which still remains in s. andrew. the present arches do not fit, and are evidently later alterations for the purpose of gaining internal space as at the panachrantos. the hexagonal piers between the ambulatory and the inner narthex are not original, as is evident from the clumsy manner in which the vaulting descends on to them. they are the remains of the old western external wall of the church left over when it was pierced through, probably in turkish times, to include the narthex in the interior area of the building. the piers between the ambulatory and the gallery on the north side of the church also seem to be due to openings made for a similar reason in the old northern wall of the church when that gallery was added in byzantine days. the dotted lines on the plan show the original form of the piers and wall, as shown by the outline of the vault springings above. the inner narthex is later than the central church and is of inferior workmanship. the restored plan shows the probable form of the church at that date. the outer narthex was added at a subsequent period. _the parecclesion._--the parecclesion forms a complete church of the 'four column' type with a narthex and gynecaeum on the west. on the north side the two columns supporting the dome arches have been removed, and their place is taken by a large pointed turkish arch which spans the chapel from east to west as is done in the north church of the panachrantos (p. 129). the southern columns are of green marble with bases of a darker marble and finely carved capitals both bedded in lead. one of these columns, that to the east, has been partly built into the mihrab wall. the arms of the cross and the western angle compartments are covered with cross-groined vaults, while the eastern angle compartments have dome vaults. the bema and the two lateral chapels have cross-groined vaults. as usual the apse is semicircular within and shows to the exterior seven sides, the three centre sides being filled with a triple window with carved oblong shafts and cubical capitals. [illustration: s. mary pammakaristos probable original plan fig. 47.] internally the church is divided by string-courses at the abacus level of the columns and at the springing level of the vaults into three stories. the lowest story is now pierced by turkish windows but was originally plain; the middle story is pierced by single-light windows in each of the angle compartments, and in the cross arm by a three-light window of two quarter arches and a central high semicircular arch, similar to those in the narthex of the chora. the highest story has a single large window in the cross arm. to the east the bema arch springs from the abacus level and all three apses have low vaults, a somewhat unusual arrangement. this allows of an east window in the tympanum of the dome arch above the bema. the dome is in twelve bays, each pierced by a window and separated by flat projecting ribs. it retains its mosaics, representing christ in the centre surrounded by twelve prophets. each prophet holds in his hand a scroll inscribed with a characteristic quotation from his writings. the drawing, for which i am indebted to the skill and kindness of mr. arthur e. henderson, gives an excellent idea of the scheme of the mosaics. speaking of these mosaics, diehl remarks that we have here, as in the chora, indications of the revival of art in the fourteenth century. the christ in the centre of the dome is no longer represented as the stern and hard pantokrator, but shows a countenance of infinite benignity and sweetness. the twelve prophets grouped around him in the flutings of the dome reveal, in the variety of their expressions, in their different attitudes, in the harmonious colours and elegant draping of their robes, an artist who seeks to escape from traditional types and create a living work of his own.[247] the narthex is in three bays covered by cross-groined vaults without transverse arches. the lower window is a turkish insertion, and above it, rising from the vaulting string-course at the level of the abacus course in the church, is a triple window of the type already described. [illustration: fig. 48. (for other details see fig. 68.)] above the narthex and approached by a narrow stair in the thickness of the west wall is the small gynecaeum. it is in three bays, separated by strong transverse arches resting on pilasters, each bay having a deep recess to east and west. the centre bay is covered by a cross-groined vault, and overlooks the church by a small window pierced in the west cross arm. each of the side bays is covered by a drum dome of sixteen concave bays pierced with eight windows and externally octagonal. the plaster has fallen away from these bays, allowing us to see that they are built in regular courses of brick with thick mortar joints and without any special strengthening at the lines of juncture or ribs between the compartments. such domes, therefore, are not strictly ribbed domes but rather domes in compartments. the 'ribs' no doubt do, by their extra thickness, add to the strength of the vault, but here, as in most byzantine domes, their purpose is primarily ornamental. [illustration: plate xli. (1) s. mary pammakaristos. interior view of the dome of the parecclesion. (2) s. mary pammakaristos. mosaic in the dome of the parecclesion. _to face page 154._] the exterior of the chapel, like the façade of s. theodore (p. 247), presents a carefully considered scheme of decoration, characteristic of the later byzantine school both here and in the later schools outside constantinople. the southern wall is divided externally as it is also internally, into three stories, and forms two main compartments corresponding to the narthex and to the cross arm. they are marked by high arches of two orders, which enclose two triple windows in the upper story of the narthex and of the cross arm. the clue to the composition is given by the middle story, which contains the two large triple windows of the narthex and of the cross arm, and the two single lights of the angle compartment, one on each side of the cross arm triple light. these windows are enclosed in brick arches of two orders and linked together by semicircular arched niches, of which those flanking the narthex window are slightly larger than the rest, thus giving a continuous arcade of a very pleasant rhythmic quality. in the lower story the piers of the arches round the triple windows are alone carried down through the inscribed string-course which separates the stories and forms the window-sill. the system of niches is repeated, flat niches being substituted for the angle compartment windows above. the highest story contains the large single windows which light the cross arm and the gynecaeum, the former flanked by two semicircular niches, the latter by two brick roundels with radiating joints. between them, above the west angle compartment window, is a flat niche with a turkish arch. it is possible that there was originally a break here extending to the cornice, and that this was filled up during turkish repairs. the cornice has two ranges of brick dentils and is arched over the two large windows. the domes on the building have flat angle pilasters supporting an arched cornice. the masonry is in stripes of brick and stone courses, with radiating joints to the arched niches and a zigzag pattern in the spandrils of the first-story arches. at this level are four carved stone corbels with notches on the upper side, evidently to take a wooden beam. these must have supported the roof of an external wood cloister. the inscribed string-course already mentioned between the ground and first stories bears a long epitaph in honour of michael glabas tarchaniotes.[248] (fig. 49.) the three apses at the east end are of equal height. the side ones are much worn but were apparently plain. the centre apse is in three stories with alternately flat and circular niches in each side. it is crowned by a machicolated cornice similar to that on the east end of s. theodosia. the general composition, as will be seen from the description, arises very directly from the internal arrangements of the chapel and is extremely satisfactory. the ranges of arches, varying in a manner at first irregular, but presently seen to be perfectly symmetrical, give a rhythmic swing to the design. the walls are now heavily plastered and the effect of the horizontal bands of brick and stone is lost; but even in its present state the building is a very delightful example of byzantine external architecture. evidently the foundress of the chapel wished the monument she reared to her husband's memory to be as beautiful both within and without as the taste and skill of the times could make it. [illustration: plate xlii. s. mary pammakaristos. south side of the parecclesion. _to face page 156._] what information we have in regard to the chapel is little, but clear and definite, resting as it does on the authority of the two epitaphs which the poet philes composed to be inscribed on the interior and exterior walls of the building. one of the epitaphs, if ever placed in position, has been destroyed or lies concealed under turkish plaster. of the other only fragments remain, forming part of the scheme of decoration which adorns the south wall of the chapel. but fortunately the complete text of both epitaphs is preserved in the extant writings of their author, and affords all the information they were meant to record. the chapel was dedicated to christ as the logos[249] and was built after the death of the protostrator by his wife maria, or martha in religion, for a mausoleum in which to place his tomb.[250] as the protostrator died about 1315, the chapel was erected soon after that date. an interesting incident occurred in this chapel soon after the turkish conquest. one day when the sultan was riding through his newly acquired capital he came to the pammakaristos, and upon being informed that it was the church assigned to the patriarch gennadius, alighted to honour the prelate with a visit. the meeting took place in this parecclesion, and the conversation, of which a summary account was afterwards sent to the sultan, dwelt on the dogmas of the christian faith.[251] [illustration: fig. 49.] the text of the epitaph, portions of which appear on the exterior face of the south wall of the parecclesion of the church of the pammakaristos (_carmina philae_, ccxxiii. ed. miller, vol. i. pp. 117-18) reads as follows:- [greek: aner, to phôs, to pneuma, to prosphthegma mou, kai touto soi to dôron ek tês syzygou; sy men gar hôs agrypnos en machais leôn hypnois, hypelthôn anti lochmês ton taphon; egô de soi teteucha petraian stegên, 5 mê palin heurôn ho stratos se syncheê, kan deuro ton choun ektinaxas ekrybês, ê tou pachous rheusantos hêrpagês anô, pan hoplon apheis ekkremes tô pattalô; tas gar epi gês ebdelyxô pastadas 10 en eutelei tribôni phygôn bion kai pros noêtous antetaxô satrapas, sterrhan metendys ek theou panteuchian. hôs ostreon goun organô soi ton taphon, ê kochlon ê kalyka kentrôdous batou; 15 margare mou, porphyra, gês allês rhodon, ei kai trygêthen ekpiezê tois lithois hôs kai stalagmous proxenein moi dakryôn, autos de kai zôn kai theon zônta blepôn hôs nous katharos tôn pathôn tôn ex hylês 20 ton son palin thalamon eutrepize moi; hê syzygos prin tauta soi martha graphei, prôtostrator kalliste kai tethammenôn].[252] o my husband, my light, my breath, whom i now greet. this gift to thee also is from thy wife. for thou indeed who wast like a sleepless lion in battles sleepest, having to endure the grave, instead (of occupying) thy lair. but i have erected for thee a dwelling of stone, lest the army finding thee again, should trouble thee, although here thou art hidden, having cast off thy (body of) clay, or, the gross flesh having dropped off, thou hast been transported above, leaving every weapon hung up on its peg. for thou didst abhor the mansions in the world,[253] having fled from life in the cheap cloak (of a monk), and didst confront invisible potentates, having received instead (of thine own armour) a strong panoply from god. therefore i will construct for thee this tomb as a pearl oyster shell, or shell of the purple dye, or bud on a thorny brier. o my pearl, my purple, rose of another clime, even though being plucked thou art pressed by the stones so as to cause me sheddings of tears. yet thou thyself, both living and beholding the living god, as a mind pure from material passions, prepare for me again thy home. martha,[254] thy wife formerly, writes these things to thee, o protostrator, fairest also of the dead! the following epitaph in honour of the protostrator glabas[254] was to be placed in the parecclesion of the church of the pammakaristos (_carmina philae_, ccxix., ed. miller, vol. i. pp. 115-16):- [greek: epigramma eis ton naon hon ôkodomêsen hê tou prôtostratoros symbios apothanonti tô andri autês. hê men dia sou pasa tôn ontôn physis ou dynatai chôrein se tên prôtên physin; plêrois gar autên alla kai pleiôn meneis, theou loge zôn kai draki to pan pherôn, kan sarx alêthês heuretheis perigraphê, 5 psychais de pistais mystikôs enidryê monên seautô pêgnyôn athanaton; oukoun dechou ton oikon hon teteucha soi deiknynta saphôs tês psychês mou tên schesin; ton syzygon de pheu teleutêsanta moi 10 kai tês choikês apanastanta stegês, oikison eis aphtharton autos pastada, kantautha têrôn tên soron tou leipsanou, mê tis enechthê syntribê tois osteois. 15 prôtostrator kai tauta sên dêpou charin hê syzygos prin, alla nyn martha graphei.] the whole nature of existing things which thou hast made cannot contain thee, the primordial nature, for thou fillest it, and yet remainest more than it; o logos of god, living and holding all in the hollow of thy hand, although as true flesh thou art circumscribed, and dwellest, mystically, in faithful souls, establishing for thyself an immortal habitation, yet accept the house which i have built for thee, which shows clearly the disposition of my soul. my husband who, alas! has died to me and gone forth from his house of clay, do thou thyself settle in an incorruptible mansion, guarding also here the shrine of his remains, lest any injury should befall his bones. o protostrator, these things, too, for thy sake i trow, writes she who erewhile was thy wife, but now is martha.[256] [illustration: fig. 50.] _to face page 160._ [illustration: fig. 51.] [illustration: fig. 52.] [illustration: fig. 53.] [215] see the masterly articles of mr. siderides in the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._; supplement to vols. xx.-xxii. pp. 19-32; vol. xxix. pp. 265-73. i beg to acknowledge my great indebtedness to their learned author. [216] 'this is the thoughtful deed of john comnenus and of his consort anna of the family ducas. grant to them, o pure one, rich grace and appoint them dwellers in the house of god.' [217] vol. ii, p. 183. [218] _carmina philae_, vol. i. ode 237, lines 21-23. codex paris, p. 241. [219] m. crusius, _turcograecia_, p. 189. [220] it should read, [greek: branaina]. see siderides, in the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ vol. xxix. p. 267. [221] for the protovestiarius, see pachym. i. pp. 205, 469; ii. pp. 68, 72, 210; for the protostrator, see pachym. ii. pp. 12, 445. the former died in 1284, the latter about 1315. cf. siderides, _ut supra_. see on this subject the article of a. e. martini in _atti della r. academia di archeologia, lettere e belle arti_, vol. xx., napoli, 1900. [222] _carmina philae_, vol. i. codex florent. ode 95, lines 280-82. [223] see _carmina philae_, edited by e. miller, odes 54, 57, 59, 92, 164, 165, 219, 237, for references to the protostrator, or to his wife, or to the pammakaristos. [224] hans jacob breüning, _orientalische reyss_, chap. xvii. p. 66. he visited constantinople 1579-80. the portraits stood 'im eingang auff der rechten seiten,' or, as another authority has it, 'in patriarchica porta exteriore, in pariete dextero ab ingredientibus conspiciuntur,' _turcograecia_, p. 75. [225] gerlach refers to these portraits, but without mentioning the names of the persons they represented. the legends were communicated to m. crusius (_turcograecia_, p. 75) by theodosius zygomalas, the protonotarius of the patriarch in the time of gerlach. [226] pachym. ii. pp. 182-89. when cosmas was appointed patriarch a curious incident occurred. a monk of the monastery of the pantepoptes protested against the nomination, because it had been revealed to him that the person who should fill the vacant office would bear the name john. such was the impression made by this prediction that matters were so arranged that somehow cosmas was able to claim that name also. whereupon the monk went on to predict how many years cosmas would hold office, and that he would lose that position before his death. [227] pachym. ii. pp. 271-77. [228] _ibid._ pp. 278-84. [229] pachym. ii. pp. 292-98. [230] pachym. ii. pp. 298-300. [231] _ibid._ ii. p. 303. [232] _ibid._ pp. 341-43. [233] _ibid._ 347-85. [234] cantacuzene, ii. pp. 442-48; niceph. greg. pp. 701, 710, 726. [235] ducas, pp. 117-21, 134, 139-42, 148-52, 176. [236] _historia politica_, p. 16. [237] phrantzes, p. 307. [238] see gerlach's description in _turcograecia_, pp. 189-90. [239] breüning, _orientalische reyss_, p. 68, 'zur rechten an der mauren imp. alexii comneni monumentum von steinwerck auffs einfältigste and schlechteste.' [240] salomon schweigger, _ein newe reyssbeschreibung auss deutschland nach constantinopel_ pp. 119-20, chaplain for more than three years in constantinople, at the legation of the holy roman empire, 1581. he gives the inscription on the sarcophagus: [greek: alexios autokratôr tôn rhômaiôn]. there is an eagle to the right of the legend. [241] p. 12, [greek: eis hên ekeinos edeimato christô tô philanthrôpô monên]. [242] _turcograecia_, p. 46, where the tomb is further described; 'est id lapideum, non insistens 4 basibus, sed integro lapide a terra surgens, altius quam mensa, ad parietem templi.' [243] _turcograecia_, p. 189. [244] patr. constantius, p. 72. [245] _historia politica_, p. 178. [246] a barrel vault is, however, used under the west gallery of s. theodosia though cross-groined vaults are used in the side 'aisles.' [247] _manuel d'art byzantin_, p. 742. [248] the bands of marble on which the inscription is found were cut from marble slabs which once formed part of a balustrade, for the upper side of the bands is covered with carved work. [249] _carmina philae_, i. pp. 115-16, lines 4, 7. [250] _ibid._ heading to poem, and lines 10, 13-16. second epitaph p. 117, lines 2, 5, 14. [251] _turcograecia_, pp. 16, 109, [greek: endon tês mikras ekklêsias kai hôraias tou parekklêsion]. [252] [greek: tethammene] (cod. mon. fol. 102). [253] alludes to the retirement of glabas from the world as a monk. [254] her name as a nun. [255] in the superscription to this epigram in the florentine and munich mss. the name [greek: glabas] is given. [256] in these translations i have been assisted chiefly by sir w. m. ramsay, professor bury, and mr. e. m. antoniadi. chapter viii church of s. theodosia, gul jamissi there can be no doubt that the mosque gul jamissi (mosque of the rose), that stands within the gate aya kapou, near the golden horn, was the byzantine church of s. theodosia. for aya kapou is the entrance styled in byzantine days the gate of s. theodosia ([greek: pylê tês hagias theodosias]), because in the immediate vicinity of the church of that dedication.[257] this was also the view current on the subject when gyllius[258] and gerlach[259] visited the city in the sixteenth century. the turkish epithet of the gate 'aya,' holy, is thus explained. du cange,[260] contrary to all evidence, places the church of s. theodosia on the northern side of the harbour, or at its head, _ultra sinum_. the saint is celebrated in ecclesiastical history for her opposition to the iconoclastic policy of leo the isaurian. for when that emperor commanded the eikon of christ over the bronze gate of the great palace to be removed, theodosia, at the head of a band of women, rushed to the spot and overthrew the ladder up which the officer, charged with the execution of the imperial order, was climbing to reach the image. in the fall the officer was killed. whereupon a rough soldier seized theodosia, and dragging her to the forum of the bous (ak serai), struck her dead by driving a ram's horn through her neck. naturally, when the cause for which she sacrificed her life triumphed, she was honoured as a martyr, and men said, 'the ram's horn, in killing thee, o theodosia, appeared to thee a new horn of amalthea.'[261] [illustration: plate xliii. (1) s. theodosia. the east end. (_e. m. antoniadi._) (2) s. theodosia, from the south-east. _to face page 164._] the remains of the martyred heroine were taken for burial to the monastery of dexiocrates ([greek: to monastêrion to onomazomenon dexiokratous]), so named either after its founder or after the district in which it was situated.[262] this explains why the gate of s. theodosia was also designated the gate of dexiocrates ([greek: porta dexiokratous]).[263] the earliest reference to the church of s. theodosia occurs in the account of the pilgrimage made by anthony, archbishop of novgorod,[264] to constantinople in 1200. alluding to that shrine he says: 'dans un couvent,' to quote the french translation of his narrative, 'de femmes se trouvent les reliques de sainte théodosie, dans une châsse ouverte en argent.' another russian pilgrim from novgorod,[265] stephen, who was in constantinople in 1350, refers to the convent expressly as the convent of s. theodosia: 'nous allâmes vénérer la sainte vierge théodosie, que (pécheurs) nous baisâmes; il y a là un couvent en son nom au bord de la mer.' the convent is again mentioned in the description of constantinople by the russian pilgrim[266] who visited the city shortly before the turkish conquest (1424-53). 'de là (blachernae) nous nous dirigeâmes vers l'est et atteignîmes le couvent de sainte théodosie; la sainte vierge théodosie y repose dans une châsse découverte.' two other russian pilgrims, alexander the scribe (1395), and the deacon zosimus (1419-21), likewise refer to the relics of the saint, but they do so in terms which create some difficulty. alexander saw the relics in the church of the pantokrator,[267] while zosimus found them in the convent of the 'everghetis.'[268] the discrepancy between these statements may indeed be explained as one of the mistakes very easily committed by strangers who spend only a short time in a city, visit a multitude of similar objects during that brief stay, and write the account of their travels at hurried moments, or after returning home. it is on this principle that mordtmann[269] deals with the statement that the relics of s. theodosia were kept in the monastery of the 'everghetis.' in his opinion zosimus confused the monastery of s. saviour euergetes[270] with the church of s. theodosia,[271] because of the proximity of the two sanctuaries. lapses of memory are of course possible, but, on the other hand, the trustworthiness of a document must not be brushed aside too readily. but the differences in the statements of the russian pilgrims, as to the particular church in which the relics of s. theodosia were enshrined, may be explained without charging any of the good men with a mistake, if we remember that relics of the same saint might be preserved in several sanctuaries; that the calendar of the greek church celebrates four saints bearing the name theodosia;[272] and, lastly, that churches of the same dedication stood in different quarters of the city. in fact, a church dedicated to the theotokos euergetes stood on the xerolophos above the quarter of psamathia.[273] stephen of novgorod[274] makes it perfectly clear that he venerated the relics of s. theodosia in two different sanctuaries of the city, one of them being a church beside the golden horn, the other standing on the heights above psamathia. so does the anonymous pilgrim.[274] the scribe alexander[276] found the relics of s. theodosia both in the pantokrator and in the church of kirmarta, above the quarter of psamathia. it is clear, therefore, that zosimus,[277] who places the relics of s. theodosia in the monastery of 'everghetis,' has in mind the church of the theotokos euergetes above psamathia, and not the church of s. saviour euergetes which stood near s. theodosia beside the golden horn. note while zosimus and alexander agree in placing the relics of s. theodosia in a church in the region of psamathia, they differ as to the name of that church, the former naming it everghetis, while the latter styles it kirmarta. as appears from statements found on pages 108, 163, 205 of the _itinéraires russes_, the two sanctuaries were closely connected. but however this discrepancy should be treated, there can be no doubt that relics of s. theodosia were exhibited, not only in the church dedicated to her beside the golden horn, but also in a church in the south-western part of the city. nor can it be doubted that a church in the latter quarter was dedicated to the theotokos euergetes. that several churches should have claimed to possess the relics of the heroine who championed the cause of eikons, assuming that all the russian pilgrims had one and the same s. theodosia in mind, is not strange. many other popular saints were honoured in a similar fashion. the shrine of s. theodosia was famed for miraculous cures. her horn of plenty was filled with gifts of healing. twice a week, on wednesdays and fridays, according to stephen of novgorod, or on mondays and fridays, according to another pilgrim, the relics of the saint were carried in procession and laid upon sick and impotent folk.[278] those were days of high festival. all the approaches to the church were packed with men and women eager to witness the wonders performed. patients representing almost every complaint to which human flesh is heir filled the court. gifts of oil and money poured into the treasury; the church was a blaze of lighted tapers; the prayers were long; the chanting was loud. meanwhile the sufferers were borne one after another to the sacred relics, 'and whoever was sick,' says the devout stephen, 'was healed.' so profound was the impression caused by one of these cures in 1306, that pachymeres[279] considered it his duty, as the historian of his day, to record the wonder; and his example may be followed to furnish an illustration of the beliefs and usages which bulked largely in the religious life witnessed in the churches of byzantine constantinople. at the time referred to there dwelt in the city a deaf-mute, a well-known object of charity who supported himself by petty services in benevolent households. while thus employed by a family that resided near the church of the holy apostles, the poor man one night saw s. theodosia in a dream, and heard her command to repair with tapers and incense to the church dedicated to her honour. next morning the deaf-mute made his friends understand what had occurred during his sleep, and with their help found his way to the designated shrine. there he was anointed with the holy oil of the lamp before the saint's eikon, and bowed long in humble adoration at her feet. nothing remarkable happened at the time. but on his homeward way the devout man felt a strange pain in his ear, and upon putting his hand to the sore place, what seemed a winged insect flew out and vanished from view. wondering what this might mean, he entered the house in which he served, and set himself to prepare the oven in which the bread for the family was to be baked that day. but all his efforts to kindle the fire were in vain; the wood only smoked. this went on so long that, like most persons under the same circumstances, the much-tried man lost his temper and gave way to the impulse to use bad language. whereupon sonorous imprecations on the obstinate fuel shook the air. the bystanders could not believe their ears. they thought the sounds proceeded from some mysterious voice in the oven. but the deaf-mute protested that he heard his friends talking, and assured them that the words they heard were his own; s. theodosia had opened his ears and loosed his tongue. the news of the marvel spread far and wide and reached even the court. andronicus ii. sent for the young man, interrogated him, and was so deeply impressed by the recital of what had happened that he determined to proceed to the church of s. theodosia in state, and went thither with the patriarch and the senate, humbly on foot, and spent the whole night before the wonder-working shrine in prayer and thanksgiving. [illustration: plate xliv. (1) s. theodosia. interior, looking north-east. (2) s. theodosia. the eastern dome arch. _to face page 168._] the last scene witnessed in this church as a christian sanctuary was pathetic in the extreme. it was the vigil of the day sacred to the memory of the saint, may 29, 1453. the siege of the city by the turks had reached its crisis. the morning light would see the queen of cities saved or lost. all hearts were torn with anxiety, and the religious fervour of the population rose to the highest pitch. already, in the course of the previous day, a great procession had gone through the streets of the city, invoking the aid of god and of all his saints. the emperor and the leading personages of his court were in s. sophia, praying, weeping, embracing one another, forgiving one another, all feeling oppressed by a sense of doom. in the terrible darkness the church of s. theodosia, ablaze with lighted tapers, gleamed like a beacon of hope. an immense congregation, including many women, filled the building, and prayers ascended to heaven with unwonted earnestness--when suddenly the tramp of soldiers and strange shouts were heard. had the city indeed fallen? the entrance of turkish troops into the church removed all doubt, and the men and women who had gathered to pray for deliverance were carried off as prisoners of war.[280] according to the _belgic chronicle_, the body of the saint and other relics were thrown into the mire and cast to the dogs.[281] _architectural features_ as the building has undergone extensive repairs since it became a mosque, care must be taken to distinguish between the original features of the fabric and turkish changes and restorations. the pointed dome arches rest on pilasters built against the internal angles of the cross. the dome is windowless, has no internal drum, and externally is octagonal with a low drum and a flat cornice. dome, arches, and pilasters are all evidently turkish reconstructions. the gable walls of the transepts and the western wall are also turkish. as the central apse coincided with the orientation of the mosque, it has retained its original form and some portions of its byzantine walls, but it also has suffered turkish alterations. the cross arches in the south gallery and in the narthex are pointed, and, in their present form, unquestionably turkish; but as the vault above them is byzantine, their form may be due to cutting away in order to secure a freer passage round the galleries for the convenience of moslem worshippers. the outer narthex is turkish, but the old wall which forms its foundation and traces of an old pavement imply the former existence of a byzantine narthex. in spite, however, of these serious changes the building preserves its original characteristic features, and is a good example of a domed-cross church, with galleries on three sides and domes over the four angle-chambers. the galleries rest on a triple arcade supported by square piers. on the north and south the aisles are covered with cross-groined vaults on oblong compartments, while the passage or narthex under the western gallery has a barrel vault. the chambers at the north-eastern and south-eastern angles of the cross are thrown into the side chapels, which thus consist of two bays covered with cross-groined vaults. communication between the chapels and the bema was maintained by passages opening in the ordinary fashion into the eastern bays. in the thickness of each of the eastern dome piers, and at a short distance above the floor, is a small chamber. the chamber in the north-eastern pier is lighted by a small opening looking southwards, and was reached by a door in the east side of the passage leading from the bema to the north-eastern chapel. the door has been walled up, and the chamber is consequently inaccessible. the chamber in the south-eastern pier is lighted by a window looking northwards, and has a door in the east side of the passage from the bema to the south-eastern chapel. over the door is a turkish inscription[282] in gilt letters to this effect, 'tomb of the apostles, disciples of jesus. peace to him.' the chamber is reached by a short spiral stairway of nine stone steps, and contains a small marble tomb, which is covered with shawls, and has a turban around its headstone. on a bracket in the wall is a lamp ready to be lighted in honour of the deceased. the roof of the chamber is perforated by an opening that runs into the floor at the east end of the southern gallery, and over the opening is an iron grating. [illustration: fig. 54.--s. theodosia. the interior, looking west. (from a photograph.)] access to the galleries is gained by means of a staircase in the northern bay of the passage under the western gallery. for some distance from the floor of the church the staircase has wooden steps, but from the first landing, where a door in the northern wall stands on a level with the ground outside the church, stone steps are employed for the remainder of the way up. the wooden steps are turkish, but may replace byzantine steps of the same material. the stone steps are byzantine, and could be reached directly from outside the church through the door situated beside the landing from which they start. probably in byzantine days the stone staircase could not be reached from the floor of the church, and furnished the only means of access to the galleries. the galleries are covered by the barrel vaults of the cross arms. at the east end of the northern and the southern gallery are chapels covered with domes and placed above the prothesis and the diaconicon. as stated already, the aperture in the roof of the chamber in the south-eastern dome pier opens into the floor of the southern chapel, and probably a similar aperture in the roof of the corresponding chamber in the north-eastern pier opened into the floor of the chapel at the east end of the northern gallery. the presence of chapels in such an unusual position is explained by the desire to celebrate special services in honour of the saints whose remains were buried in the chambers in the piers, as though in crypts. the domes over the chapels are hemispherical and rest directly on the pendentives. they are ribless and without drums. the arches on which they rest are semicircular and, with their infilling of triple windows, are byzantine. we may safely set down all four angle domes as belonging to the original design, though the arches by which they communicate with the galleries are pointed, and are therefore turkish insertions or enlargements. on the exterior the eastern wall of the church is fairly well preserved. the three apses project boldly; the central apse in seven sides, the lateral apses in three sides. although the central apse is unquestionably a piece of byzantine work it does not appear to be the original apse of the building, but a substitute inserted in the course of repairs before the turkish conquest. this accounts for its plain appearance as compared with the lateral apses, which are decorated with four tiers of five niches, corresponding to the window height and the vaulting-level within the church. as on the apses of the pantokrator (p. 235) the niches are shallow segments in plan, set back in one brick order, and without impost moulding. in the lowest tier three arches are introduced between pilasters, with a window in the central arch. above the four tiers of niches is a boldly corbelled cornice, like that in the chapel attached to the pammakaristos. one cannot help admiring how an effect so decidedly rich and beautiful was produced by very simple means. [illustration: plate xlv. (1) s. theodosia. dome over the staircase to the galleries. (2) s. theodosia. the narthex, looking north. _to face page 172._] details of the tiled floor and of several carved fragments are given in fig. 76. for some time after the conquest the building was used as a naval store.[283] it was converted into a mosque in the reign of sultan selim ii. (1566-74) by a wealthy courtier, hassan pasha, and was known as hassan pasha mesjedi.[284] its title, the mosque of the rose, doubtless refers to its beauty, just as another mosque is, for a similar reason, styled laleli jamissi, the mosque of the tulip. before leaving the church we may consider the claims of the tradition that the chamber in the south-eastern dome pier contains the tomb of the last byzantine emperor. the tradition was first announced to the general public by the patriarch constantius in a letter which he addressed in 1852 to mr. scarlatus byzantius, his fellow-student in all pertaining to the antiquities and history of constantinople.[285] according to the patriarch, the tradition was accepted by the turkish ecclesiastical authorities of the city, and was current among the old men of the greek community resident in the quarter of phanar; he himself knew the tradition even in his boyhood. furthermore, distinguished european visitors who inquired for byzantine imperial tombs were directed by turkish officials to the church of s. theodosia, as the resting-place of the emperor who died with the empire; and the inscription over the door of the chamber referred to that champion of the greek cause. strangely enough, the patriarch said nothing about this tradition when treating of the church of s. theodosia in his book on _ancient and modern constantinople_, published in 1844. in that work, indeed, he assigns the tomb in question to some martyr who suffered during the iconoclastic period.[286] this strange silence he explains in his letter written in 1852 as due to prudence; he had reason then to 'put the seal of alexander upon his lips.' [illustration: fig. 55. (for other details in the church see fig. 76.)] the tradition has recently received the honour of being supported by mr. siderides, to whom students of byzantine archaeology are so deeply indebted. but while accepting it in general, mr. siderides thinks it is open to correction on two points of detail. in his opinion the church of s. theodosia was not the first sanctuary to guard the mortal remains of constantine palaeologus, but the second. nor was the body of the fallen hero, when ultimately brought to this church, placed, as the patriarch supposed, in the chamber in the south-eastern pier, but in the chamber in the pier to the north-east. the reasons urged in favour of these modifications of the tradition, as reported by the patriarch constantius, are substantially the following:--in the first place, the body of the last constantine, after its decapitation, was, at the express order of the victorious sultan, buried with royal honours, [greek: meta basilikês timês],[287] and therefore, so mr. siderides maintains, must have been interred in the church which then enjoyed the highest rank in the greek community of the city, viz. the church of the holy apostles, the patriarchal cathedral after the appropriation of s. sophia by the turks. the church of the holy apostles, however, soon lost that distinction, and was torn down to make room for the mosque which bears the name of the conqueror of the city. under these circumstances what more natural, asks mr. siderides, than that pious and patriotic hands should remove as many objects of historical or religious value as possible from the doomed shrine, and deposit them where men might still do them reverence--especially when there was every facility for the removal of such objects, owing to the fact that a christian architect, christoboulos, had charge of the destruction of the church and of the erection of the mosque. some of those objects were doubtless transferred to the church of the pammakaristos,[288] where the patriarch gennadius placed his throne after abandoning the church of the holy apostles; but others may have been taken elsewhere. and for proof that the church of s. theodosia had the honour of being entrusted with the care of some of the relics removed from the holy apostles, mr. siderides points to the inscription over the doorway leading to the chamber in the south-eastern dome pier. according to the inscription that chamber is consecrated by the remains of christ's apostles, _i.e._ the relics which formed the peculiar treasure of the church of the holy apostles. this being so, mr. siderides argues, on the strength of the tradition under review, that the remains of the last constantine also were brought from the church of the holy apostles to s. theodosia under the circumstances described. as to the position of the imperial tomb when thus transferred to the church of s. theodosia, mr. siderides insists that it cannot be in the chamber in the south-eastern dome pier: first, because the religious veneration cherished by moslems for the grave in that chamber is inconsistent with the idea that the grave contains the ashes of the enemy who, in 1453, resisted the sultan's attack upon the city; secondly, because the inscription over the doorway leading to the chamber expressly declares the chamber to be the resting-place of christ's apostles. hence mr. siderides concludes that if the tradition before us has any value, the tomb of the last byzantine emperor was placed in the chamber in the north-eastern pier, and finds confirmation of that view in the absence of any respect for the remains deposited there. to enter into a minute criticism of this tradition and of the arguments urged in its support would carry us far beyond our scope. nor does such criticism seem necessary. the fact that the last constantine was buried with royal honours affords no proof whatever that he was laid to rest in the church of the holy apostles. if he was ever buried in s. theodosia, he may have been buried there from the first. the lateness of the date when the tradition became public makes the whole story it tells untrustworthy. before a statement published in the early part of the nineteenth century in regard to the interment of the last byzantine emperor can have any value, it must be shown to rest on information furnished nearer the time at which the alleged event occurred. no information of that kind has been produced. on the contrary, the only contemporary historian of the siege of 1453 who refers to the site of the emperor's grave informs us that the head of the last constantine was interred in s. sophia, and his mutilated body in galata.[289] the patriarchal authorities of the sixteenth century, as mr. siderides admits, while professing to point out the exact spot where constantine palaeologus fell, were ignorant of the place where he was buried. in his work on the mosques of the city, written in 1620, evlia effendi not only knows nothing of the tradition we are considering, but says expressly that the emperor was buried elsewhere--in the church of the monastery of s. mary peribleptos, known by the turks as soulou monastir, in the quarter of psamathia. in 1852 a story prevailed that the grave of the last constantine was in the quarter of vefa meidan.[290] from all these discrepancies it is evident that in the confusion attending the turkish capture of the city, the real site of the imperial grave was soon forgotten, and that all subsequent indications of its position are mere conjectures, the offspring of the propensity to find in nameless graves local habitations for popular heroes. note the first edition of _ancient and modern constantinople_ was published in 1824. in it there is no mention of any tomb in the church of s. theodosia. the second edition of that work appeared in 1844, and there the author speaks of a tomb in the church, and suggests that it was the tomb of some martyr in the iconoclastic persecution. the patriarch's letter to scarlatus byzantius was written in 1852, and published by the latter in 1862. in that letter the patriarch reports for the first time the tradition that the tomb in s. theodosia was the tomb of constantine palaeologus. in 1851 a russian visitor to constantinople, andrew mouravieff, who published an account of his travels, says that in the church of s. theodosia he was shown a tomb which the officials of the mosque assured him was the tomb of the last christian emperor of the city.[291] lastly, but not least, in 1832 the church of s. theodosia underwent repairs at the sultan's orders, and then a neglected tomb was discovered in the church by the christian architect who had charge of the work of restoration, haji stephen gaitanaki maditenou (see letter of the patriarch).[292] it is difficult to resist the impression that the discovery of the tomb at that time gave occasion for the fanciful conjectures current among turks and greeks in regard to the body interred in the tomb. see the article of mr. siderides, who gives the facts just mentioned, without drawing the inference i have suggested. [illustration: fig. 56.] [illustration: fig. 57.] [illustration: figs. 58 and 59.] [illustration: fig. 60.] [257] phrantzes, p. 254; pusculus, iv. 190. [258] _de bospora thracio_, vi. c. 2. [259] _türkisches tagebuch_, pp. 358, 454; patr. constantius, p. 13. [260] constant. christ. iv. 190. [261] synax., may 29.- [greek: keras kriou kteinon se, theodosia, ôphthê neon soi tes amaltheias keras]. [262] banduri, ii. p. 34. [263] codinus, _de s. sophia_, p. 147. [264] _itin. russes_, p. 104. [265] _ibid._ p. 125. [266] _ibid._ p. 233. [267] _ibid._ p. 162. [268] _itin. russes_, p. 205. [269] _esq. top._ parags. 68, 69. [270] pachym. vol. i. p. 365; _chroniques græco-romaines_, pp. 96, 97. [271] nicet. chon. p. 752. [272] synax. march 25, may 29 (a day sacred to two saints named theodosia), july 8. [273] _itin. russes_, p. 205. not far from the church and cistern of s. mokius. [274] _ibid._ cf. pp. 122, 125. [275] _ibid._ pp. 233, 234. [276] _ibid._ pp. 162, 163. [277] _ibid._ p. 205. [278] _itin. russes_, pp. 225, 233. [279] pachym. i. p. 365. [280] ducas, p. 293. [281] du cange, iv. p. 190. [282] merkadi havariyoun eshabi issa alaihusselam. [283] paspates, p. 322. [284] leunclavius, _pand. turc._ c. 128. [285] [greek: syngraphai hai elassones]. [286] "[greek: meletês]," athens, 1908: [greek: kônstantinou palaiologou thanatos, taphos, kai spathê]. [287] phrantzes, pp. 290-91, [greek: kai prostaxei autou hoi heurethentes christianoi ethapsan to basilikon ptôma meta basilikês timês]. [288] _e.g._, the column at which christ was scourged stood in the church of the holy apostles before the conquest. it was found by gerlach after the conquest in the pammakaristos.--_turcograecia_, p. 189. [289] see the muscovite's account in dethier's _collection of documents relating to the siege of 1453_, vol. ii. p. 1117. [290] achmed mouktar pasha, a recent turkish historian of the siege of 1453, maintains that the emperor was buried in the church of the pegé (baloukli), outside the walls of the city. there is no persistency in the tradition that associates constantine's tomb with the church of s. theodosia. [291] _letters from the east_ (in russian), vol. ii. pp. 342-43, quoted by mr. siderides. [292] [greek: syngraphai hai elassones.] chapter ix the church of s. mary diaconissa, kalender haneh jamissi close to the eastern end of the aqueduct of valens, and to the south of it, in the quarter of the mosque shahzadé, is a beautiful byzantine church, now known as kalender haneh jamissi. it was visited by gyllius,[293] who refers to its beautiful marble revetment--_vestita crustis varii marmoris_--but has, unfortunately, nothing to say concerning its dedication. since that traveller's time the very existence of the church was forgotten by the greek community of constantinople until paspates[294] discovered the building in 1877. but even that indefatigable explorer of the ancient remains of the city could not get access to the interior, and it was reserved for dr. freshfield in 1880 to be the first european visitor since gyllius to enter the building, and make its interest and beauty known to the general public.[295] [illustration: plate xlvi. (1) s. mary diaconissa. view of the north-west side, taken from the aqueduct of valens. (2) s. mary diaconissa. the north arm, looking east. _to face page 182._] the identity of the church is a matter of pure conjecture, for we have no tradition or documentary evidence on that point. paspates[296] suggests that it may have been the sanctuary connected either with the 'monastery of valens and daudatus,' or with the 'monastery near the aqueduct,' establishments in existence before the age of justinian the great.[297] it cannot be the former, because the monastery of valens and daudatus, which was dedicated to s. john the baptist, stood near the church of the holy apostles close to the western end of the aqueduct of valens. it might, so far as the indication 'near the aqueduct' gives any clue, be the sanctuary of the latter house, in which case the church was dedicated to s. anastasius.[298] but the architectural features of kalender haneh jamissi do not belong to the period before justinian. mordtmann[299] identifies the building with the church of the theotokos in the district of the deaconess ([greek: naos tês theotokou ta diakonissês]), and in favour of this view there is the fact that the site of the mosque corresponds, speaking broadly, to the position which that church is known to have occupied somewhere between the forum of taurus (now represented by the turkish war office) and the philadelphium (the area about the mosque of shahzadé), and not far off the street leading to the holy apostles. furthermore, the rich and beautiful decoration of the church implies its importance, so that it may very well be the church of the theotokos diaconissa, at which imperial processions from the great palace to the holy apostles stopped to allow the emperor to place a lighted taper upon the altar of the shrine.[300] theophanes,[301] the earliest writer to mention the church of the diaconissa, ascribes its foundation to the patriarch kyriakos (593-605) in the fourth year of his patriarchate, during the reign of the emperor maurice. according to the historical evidence at our command, that church was therefore erected towards the close of the sixth century. dr. freshfield,[302] however, judging by the form of the church and the character of the dome, thinks that kalender haneh jamissi is 'not earlier than the eighth century, and not later than the tenth.' lethaby[303] places it in the period between justinian the great and the eleventh century. 'the church, now the kalender mosque of constantinople, probably belongs to the intermediate period. the similar small cruciform church of protaton, mount athos, is dated c. 950.' hence if theophanes and his followers are not to clash with these authorities on architecture, either kalender haneh jamissi is not the church of the diaconissa, or it is a reconstruction of the original fabric of that sanctuary. to restore an old church was not an uncommon practice in constantinople, and kalender haneh jamissi has undoubtedly seen changes in the course of its history. on the other hand, diehl is of the opinion that the building cannot be later than the seventh century and may be earlier.[304] [illustration: plate xlvii. (1) s. mary diaconissa. the interior, looking north-east. (2) s. mary diaconissa. the interior, looking south-east. _to face page 184._] _architectural features_ the church belongs to the domed-cross type. the central area is cruciform, with barrel vaults over the arms and a dome on the centre. as the arms are not filled in with galleries this cruciform plan is very marked internally. four small chambers, in two stories, in the arm angles bring the building to the square form externally. the upper stories are inaccessible except by ladders, but the supposition that they ever formed, like the similar stories in the dome piers of s. sophia, portions of continuous galleries along the northern, western, and southern walls of the church is precluded by the character of the revetment on the walls. in the development of the domed-cross type, the church stands logically intermediate between the varieties of that type found respectively in the church of s. theodosia and in that of ss. peter and mark. the lower story of the north-western pier is covered with a flat circular roof resting on four pendentives, while the upper story is open to the timbers, and rises higher than the roof of the church, as though it were the base of some kind of tower. it presents no indications of pendentives or of a start in vaulting. the original eastern wall of the church has been almost totally torn down and replaced by a straight wall of turkish construction. traces of three apses at that end of the building can, however, still be discerned; for the points at which the curve of the central apse started are visible on either side of the turkish wall, and the northern apse shows on the exterior. the northern and southern walls are lighted by large triple windows, divided by shafts and descending to a marble parapet near the floor (plate iv.). the dome, which is large in proportion to the church, is a polygon of sixteen sides. it rests directly on pendentives, but has a comparatively high external drum above the roof. it is pierced by sixteen windows which follow the curve of the dome. the flat, straight external cornice above them is turkish, and there is good reason to suspect that the dome, taken as a whole, is turkish work, for it strongly resembles the turkish domes found in s. theodosia, ss. peter and mark, and s. andrew in krisei. the vaults, moreover, below the dome are very much distorted; and the pointed eastern arch like the eastern wall appears to be turkish. when portions of the building so closely connected with the dome have undergone turkish repairs, it is not strange that the dome itself should also have received similar treatment. in the western faces of the piers that carry the eastern arch large marble frames of considerable beauty are inserted. the sills are carved and rest on two short columns; two slender pilasters of verd antique form the sides; and above them is a flat cornice enriched with overhanging leaves of acanthus and a small bust in the centre. within the frames is a large marble slab. dr. freshfield thinks these frames formed part of the eikonostasis, but on that view the bema would have been unusually large. the more probable position of the eikonostasis was across the arch nearer the apse. in that case the frames just described formed part of the general decoration of the building, although, at the same time, they may have enclosed isolated eikons. eikons in a similar position are found in s. saviour in the chora (plate lxxxvi.). the marble casing of the church is remarkably fine. worthy of special notice is the careful manner in which the colours and veinings of the marble slabs are made to correspond and match. the zigzag inlaid pattern around the arches also deserves particular attention. high up in the western wall, and reached by the wooden stairs leading to a turkish wooden gallery on that side of the church, are two marble slabs with a door carved in bas-relief upon them. they may be symbols of christ as the door of his fold (plate iv.). [illustration: plate xlviii. (1) s. mary diaconissa. east end, north side (lower part). (2) s. mary diaconissa. east end, north side (upper part). _to face page 186._] the church has a double narthex. as the ground outside the building has been raised enormously (it rises 15-20 feet above the floor at the east end) the actual entrance to the outer narthex is through a cutting in its vault or through a window, and the floor is reached by a steep flight of stone steps. the narthex is a long narrow vestibule, covered with barrel vaults, and has a turkish wooden ceiling at the southern end. the esonarthex is covered with a barrel vault between two cross vaults. the entrance into the church stands between two corinthian columns, but they belong to different periods, and do not correspond to any structure in the building. in fact, both narthexes have been much altered in their day, presenting many irregularities and containing useless pilasters. professor goodyear refers to this church in support of the theory that in byzantine buildings there is an intentional widening of the structure from the ground upwards. 'it will also be observed,' he says, 'that the cornice is horizontal, whereas the marble casing above and below the cornice is cut and fitted in oblique lines.... the outward bend on the right side of the choir is 11-1/2 inches in 33 feet. the masonry surfaces step back above the middle string-course. that these bends are not due to thrust is abundantly apparent from the fact that they are continuous and uniform in inclination up to the solid rear wall of the choir.' but in regard to the existence of an intentional widening upwards in this building, it should be observed: first, that as the eastern wall of the church, 'the rear wall of the choir,' is turkish, nothing can be legitimately inferred from the features of that wall about the character of byzantine construction. secondly, the set back above the middle string-course on the other walls of the church is an ordinary arrangement in a byzantine church, and if this were all 'the widening' for which professor goodyear contended there would be no room for difference of opinion. the ledge formed by that set back may have served to support scaffolding. in the next place, due weight must be given to the distortion which would inevitably occur in byzantine buildings. they were fabrics of mortar with brick rather than of brick with mortar, and consequently too elastic not to settle to a large extent in the course of erection. hence is it that no measurements of a byzantine structure, even on the ground floor, are accurate within more than 5 cm., while above the ground they vary to a much greater degree, rendering minute measurements quite valueless. lastly, as the marble panelling was fitted after the completion of the body of the building, it had to be adapted to any divergence that had previously occurred in the settling of the walls or the spreading of the vaults. the marble panelling, it should also be observed, is here cut to the diagonal at one angle, and not at the other. apart from the set back of the masonry at the middle string-course, this church, therefore, supplies no evidence for an intentional widening of the structure from the ground upwards. any further widening than that at the middle string-course was accidental, due to the nature of the materials employed, not to the device of the builder, and was allowed by the architect because unavoidable. such irregularities are inherent in the byzantine methods of building. [illustration: plate xlix. (1) s. mary diaconissa. south eikon frame. (2) s. mary diaconissa. detail in the south eikon frame. _to face page 188._] [illustration: fig. 61.] [illustration: fig. 62.] [illustration: plate l. (1) s. mary diaconissa, looking west. (2) s. mary diaconissa. capital on column at the entrance to the church. _to face page 190._] [293] _de top. c.p._ iii. c. 6. [294] p. 351. [295] _archaeologia_, vol. lv. part 2, p. 431. [296] p. 352. [297] their names appear in the letter addressed to menas, by the monks of the city, at the synod of 536. [298] in the epistle to pope agapetus the monastery 'near the aqueduct' is described as 'anastasii prope agogum,' mansi, viii. p. 907. [299] _esquisses top._ p. 70. [300] const. porphr. _de cer._ i. p. 75. [301] p. 428; banduri, i. p. 18; viii. pp. 697-98. [302] _archaeologia_, vol. lv. part 2, p. 438. [303] _mediaeval art_, p. 66. [304] _manuel d'art byzantin_, p. 312. chapter x the church of ss. peter and mark, hoja atik mustapha jamissi the byzantine church, now hoja atik mustapha jamissi, situated in the aivan serai quarter, close to the golden horn, is commonly regarded as the church of ss. peter and mark, because it stands where the church dedicated to the chief of the apostles and his companion stood, in the district of blachernae (aivan serai) and near the golden horn.[305] such indications are too vague for a positive opinion on the subject, but perhaps the patriarch constantius, who is responsible for the identification, may have relied upon some tradition in favour of the view he has made current.[306] note tafferner, chaplain to the embassy from leopold i. of austria to the ottoman court, speaking of the patriarchal church in his day (the present patriarchal church of s. george in the phanar quarter), says, 'aedes haec in patriarchatum erecta est, postquam sultan mehemet basilicam petri et pauli exceptam graecis in moscheam defoedavit' (_caesarea legatio_, p. 89, vien. 1668). probably by the church of ss. peter and paul he means this church of ss. peter and mark. if so, the traditional name of the building is carried back to the seventeenth century. the church of ss. peter and mark, it is true, never served as a patriarchal church. that honour belonged to the church of s. demetrius of kanabos, which is in the immediate vicinity, and has always remained a christian sanctuary. tafferner seems to have confused the two churches owing to their proximity to each other. or his language may mean that the patriarchal seat was removed from s. demetrius when ss. peter and paul was converted into a mosque, because too near a building which had become a moslem place of worship. the church of ss. peter and mark was founded, it is said, by two patricians of constantinople, named galbius and candidus, in 458, early in the reign of leo i. (457-474). but the present building cannot be so old. it is a fair question to ask whether it may not be the church of s. anastasia referred to in a chrysoboullon of john palaeologus (1342), and mentioned by the russian pilgrim who visited constantinople in the fifteenth century (1424-53).[307] the church of ss. peter and mark was erected as a shrine for the supposed tunic of the theotokos, a relic which played an important part in the fortunes of constantinople on several occasions, as 'the palladium of the city and the chaser away of all diseases and warlike foes.' as often happened in the acquisition of relics, the garment had been secured by a pious fraud--a fact which only enhanced the merit of the purloiners, and gave to the achievement the colour of a romantic adventure. in the course of their pilgrimage to the holy land, galbius and candidus discovered, in the house of a devout hebrew lady who entertained them, a small room fitted up like a chapel, fragrant with incense, illuminated with lamps, and crowded with worshippers. being informed that the room was consecrated by the presence of a chest containing the robe of the mother of their lord, the pious men begged leave to spend the night in prayer beside the relic, and while thus engaged were seized by an uncontrollable longing to gain possession of the sacred garment. accordingly they took careful measurements of the chest before them, and at jerusalem ordered an exact facsimile of it to be made. thus equipped they lodged again, on their homeward journey, at the house of their galilean hostess, and once more obtained leave to worship in its chapel. watching their opportunity they exchanged the chests, and forthwith despatched the chest containing the coveted treasure straight to constantinople. they themselves tarried behind, as though loth to quit a spot still hallowed by the sacred robe. upon their return to the capital the pious thieves erected a shrine for their prize on land which they owned in the district of blachernae, and dedicated the building to ss. peter and mark instead of to the theotokos, as would have been more appropriate, in the hope that they would thus conceal the precious relic from the public eye, and retain it for their special benefit. but the secret leaked out. whereupon the emperor obliged the two patricians to surrender their treasure, and, after renovating the neighbouring church of the theotokos of blachernae, deposited the relic in that sanctuary as its proper home. [illustration: plate li. (1) ss. peter and mark, from the south-east. (2) ss. peter and mark. font outside the church. _to face page 192._] the site of that celebrated church lies at a short distance to the west of hoja atik mustapha jamissi, and is marked by the holy well which was attached to it. the well, in whose waters emperors and empresses were wont to bathe, is now enclosed by a modern greek chapel, and is still the resort of the faithful. _architectural features_ the plan of the church presents the simplest form of the domed-cross type without galleries. the dome, without drum, ribs, or windows, is almost certainly a turkish reconstruction, but the dome arches and piers are original. the arms of the cross and the small chambers at its angles are covered with barrel vaults, and communicate with one another through lofty, narrow arches. in the treatment of the northern and southern walls of the building considerable architectural elaboration was displayed. at the floor level is a triple arcade; higher up are three windows resting on the string-course; and still higher a window divided into three lights. the arches in the church are enormously stilted, a feature due to the fact that the only string-course in the building, though structurally corresponding to the vaulting spring, has been placed at the height of what would properly be the column string-course. the three apses, much altered by repairs, project boldly, all of them showing three sides on the exterior. the roof and the cornice are turkish, and the modern wooden narthex has probably replaced a byzantine narthex. on the opposite side of the street lies a cruciform font that belonged to the baptistery of the church. [illustration: fig. 63.] from a church of this type to the later four-columned plan is but a step. the dome piers of ss. peter and mark are still [symbol: l]-shaped, and form the internal angles of the cross. as the arches between such piers and the external walls increased in size, the piers became smaller, until eventually they were reduced to the typical four columns of the late churches. [illustration: plate lii. (1) ss. peter and mark. interior of the dome, looking north. (2) ss. peter and mark. looking across the dome from the south-west. _to face page 194._] [illustration: figs. 64 and 65.] [305] synax., july 2. [306] _ancient and modern constantinople_, p. 83. [307] [greek: neologou hebdomadiaia epitheôrêsis], january 3, 1893, p. 205; _itin. russes_, p. 233. chapter xi the church of the myrelaion, bodroum jamissi the identification of bodroum jamissi as the church attached to the monastery styled the myrelaion rests upon the tradition current in the greek community when gyllius visited the city. according to that traveller, the church on the hill rising to the north of the eastern end of the gardens of vlanga, the site of the ancient harbour of theodosius, was known as the myrelaion--'supra locum hortorum blanchae nuncupatorum, olim portum theodosianum continentium, extremam partem ad ortum solis pertinentem, clivus a septentrione eminet, in quo est templum vulgo nominatum myreleos.'[308] this agrees, so far, with the statement of the anonymus[309] of the eleventh century, that the myrelaion stood on the side of the city looking towards the sea of marmora. there is no record of the date when the monastery was founded. but the house must have been in existence before the eighth century, for constantine copronymus (740-775), the bitter iconoclast, displayed his contempt for monks and all their ways by scattering the fraternity, and changing the fragrant name of the establishment, myrelaion, the place of myrrh-oil, into the offensive designation, psarelaion, the place of fish-oil.[310] the monastery was restored by the emperor romanus i. lecapenus (919-945), who devoted his residence in this district to that object.[311] hence the monastery was sometimes described as 'in the palace of the myrelaion,'[312] [greek: en tois palatiois tou myrelaiou], and as 'the monastery of the emperor romanus,'[313] [greek: monê tou basileôs rhômanou]. it was strictly speaking a convent, and became noteworthy for the distinguished rank of some of its inmates, and as the mausoleum in which the founder and many members of his family were laid to rest. here romanus ii. sent his sister agatha to take the veil, when he was obliged to dismiss her from the court to soothe the jealousy of his beautiful but wicked consort theophano.[314] upon the abdication of isaac comnenus, his wife aecatherina and her daughter maria retired to the myrelaion, and there learned that a crown may be a badge of slavery and the loss of it liberty.[315] here were buried theodora,[316] the wife of romanus lecapenus, in 923, and, eight years later, his beloved son christopher,[317] for whom he mourned, says the historian of the event, with a sorrow 'greater than the grievous mourning of the egyptians.' here also helena, the daughter of romanus lecapenus, and wife of constantine vii. porphyrogenitus, was laid to rest, in 981, after an imposing funeral, in which the body was carried to the grave on a bier of gold adorned with pearls and other precious stones.[318] to this monastery were transferred, from the monastery of s. mamas, near the gate of the xylokerkou, the three sarcophagi, one of them a fine piece of work, containing the ashes of the emperor maurice and his children. and here also romanus lecapenus himself was interred in 948, his remains being brought from the island of proté, where his unfilial sons, stephen and constantine, had obliged him to spend the last years of his life as a monk.[319] [illustration: plate liii. myrelaion. the south side.] [illustration: myrelaion. the narthex, looking north. _to face page 196._] _architectural features_ the building is on the 'four column' plan. the dome, placed on a circular drum, is supported on four piers, and divided into eight concave compartments, with windows in the alternate compartments. the arms of the cross, the chambers at the angles, and the bema are all covered with cross-groined vaults that spring, like those in the chapel of the pammakaristos (p. 151), from the vaulting level. the apsidal chambers have dome vaults, a niche on the east recessed in an arch to form the apse, and a niche both on the north and the south rising above the vaulting string-course. in the lowest division of the south wall stood originally a triple arcade with a door between the columns. the arcade has been built up, but the moulded jambs and cornices of the door, and the arch above it, now contracted into a window, still show on the exterior, while the columns appear within the church. above the column string-course is a range of three windows, the central window being larger than its companions; higher up in the gable is a single light. the interior of the church has been much pulled about and cut away. the narthex is in three bays, separated by strong transverse arches, and terminates at either end in a high concave niche that shows on the outside. the central bay has a dome vault; the other bays have cross-groined vaults. the church had no gynecaeum, although pulgher indicates one in his plan. a striking feature of the exterior are the large semicircular buttresses that show beyond the walls of the church--six on the south side, one on either side of the entrance on the west, and two on the east, supporting the apsidal chambers. in the last case, however, where entire buttresses would have been at once too large and too close together, the buttresses are only half semi-circles. the apses project with three sides. the northern side of the church and the roof are modern, for the building suffered severely in 1784 from fire.[320] the church stands on a platform, built over a small cistern, the roof of which is supported by four columns crowned by beautiful capitals. hence the turkish name of the mosque, bodroum, signifying a subterranean hollow. gyllius[321] is mistaken in associating this church with the large underground cistern situated lower down the slope of the hill close to the bath kyzlar aghassi hamam. [illustration: plate liv. myrelaion. the interior, looking east.] [illustration: myrelaion. the south-west cross angle. _to face page 198._] since the above was in print, the church has, unfortunately, been burnt in the great fire which destroyed a large part of stamboul on the 23rd july 1912 (see plates ii., iii.). note gyllius (_de top. c.p._ iii. c. 8) places the horreum, the statue of maimas, the house of craterus, the modius, and the arch bearing the two bronze hands, after passing which a criminal on the way to punishment lost all hope of reprieve, near this church; basing that opinion on the statement of suidas that these buildings stood near the myrelaion. but there was a myrelaion also (codinus, _de aed._ p. 108) in the district in which the shahzadé mosque is situated. the buildings above mentioned were near this second myrelaion. on the other hand, the chrysocamaron near the myrelaion mentioned by codinus (_de signis_, pp. 65-66) stood near the church under our consideration, for it was close to the church of s. acacius in the heptascalon. so also, doubtless, did the xenodocheion myrelaion (du cange, iv. p. 160), possibly one of the many philanthropic institutions supported by helena (theoph. cont. p. 458), the daughter of romanus lecapenus and wife of constantine vii. porphyrogenitus. [illustration: figs. 66 and 67.] [308] _de top. c.p._ iii. c. 8. [309] banduri, iii. p. 48. [310] _ibid. ut supra._ [311] theoph. cont. p. 402. [312] scylitzes, in cedrenus, ii. p. 649. [313] theoph. cont. p. 404. [314] _ibid._ pp. 461, 757. [315] scylitzes, _ut supra_, pp. 648-49. [316] theoph. cont. p. 402. [317] _ibid._ p. 420. [318] _ibid._ p. 473. [319] _ibid._ pp. 403-4. [320] chevalier, _voyage de la propontide et du pont euxin_, vol. i. p. 108. [321] _de top. c.p._ iii. c. 8, 'habens inter se cisternam, cujus camera lateritia sustinetur columnis marmoreis circiter sexaginta'; cf. _die byzant. wasserbehälter_, pp. 59, 222-23. the bath of kyzlar aghassi hamam may represent the bath built by the eunuch nicetas, in the reign of theophilus, and was probably supplied with water from the cistern beside it (banduri, vi. p. 133). chapter xii the church of s. john the baptist in trullo, achmed pasha mesjedi the identification of the church of s. john the baptist in trullo ([greek: monê tou hagiou prophêtou prodromou iôannou tou en tô troullô]) with the mosque of achmed pasha mesjedi is based on two reasons: first, because of their common proximity to the church of the pammakaristos,[322] now fetiyeh jamissi; secondly, on the ground of the tradition current in the greek community on that point. the latter reason is in this case particularly strong, seeing the church of the pammakaristos was the patriarchal cathedral almost immediately after the turkish conquest, and retained that honour until 1591.[323] the highest greek ecclesiastical authorities were therefore in a position to be thoroughly acquainted with the dedication of a church in their close vicinity. in 1578 the protonotarius of the patriarch showed gerlach the site of the trullus close to achmed pasha mesjedi.[324] the church is mentioned in history only by phrantzes,[325] who informs us that when the patriarch gennadius transferred the patriarchal seat to the monastery and church of the pammakaristos, certain nuns previously accommodated in that house were removed to the neighbouring monastery of s. john baptist in trullo. phrantzes explains the designation of the church, 'in trullo,' as derived from a palace named trullus which once stood in the vicinity to the north of the pammakaristos. it was the palace, adds the historian,[326] in which the council of constantinople, known as the concilium quinisextum ([greek: penthektê]), or the second concilium trullanum, assembled in 692, in the reign of justinian ii. but the palace trullus, in which the first concilium trullanum met in 680, was one of the group of buildings forming the great palace[327] beside the hippodrome, and there the second concilium trullanum also held its meetings.[328] phrantzes is therefore mistaken in associating the council of 692 with a palace in the vicinity of the pammakaristos and achmed pasha mesjedi. but his mistake on that particular point does not preclude the existence of a palace named trullus in the neighbourhood of the pammakaristos. in fact, the existence of such a palace in that district is the only possible explanation of the attachment of the style 'in trullo' to a church on the site of achmed pasha mesjedi. nor is it strange to find a name pertaining primarily to a building in the great palace transferred to a similar building situated elsewhere. the imperial residence at the hebdomon, for example, was named magnaura after one of the halls in the great palace.[329] there was an oaton or trullus in the palace of blachernae,[330] and in the palace at nicaea.[331] consequently, a palace known as the oaton or the trullus might also be situated near the pammakaristos, to command the fine view from that point of the city. mordtmann,[332] indeed, maintains that the building to which phrantzes refers was the palace at bogdan serai, the subsequent residence of the moldavian hospodar in turkish days, and that the church of s. john in trullo was not achmed pasha mesjedi, but the church of s. john in petra (kesmé kaya) beside that palace. this opinion, however, is at variance with the statements of phrantzes and gerlach. furthermore, the designation 'in petra' was so distinctive a mark of the church of s. john near kesmé kaya, that the church could scarcely have been recognised under another style. [illustration: plate lv. s. john in trullo, from the south-west.] [illustration: balaban mesjedi (page 265). interior view. _to face page 202._] [illustration: fig. 68.] _architectural features_ s. john in trullo belongs to the ordinary 'four column' type of church building, and has a narthex. its three apses are semicircular both within and without, presenting the only instance in constantinople of apses semicircular on the exterior. the central apse projects m. 3 beyond the body of the building, and was lighted by a large but low window, divided into three lights by two pilasters crowned with carved capitals (for details see fig. 68); the diaconicon has been built up to form the mihrab of the mosque; the prothesis, to the north, has a barrel vault. [illustration: fig. 69.] the drum dome is octagonal, with eight ribs and as many windows. it seems large for the size of the church, and is lower than usual inside. the windows do not cut into the exterior cornice of the dome. originally the dome arches rested on four piers or columns, but these have been removed in the course of turkish repairs, and the dome arches are now supported by beams running across the church, under the impost of the arches. the arms of the cross to the north and south have barrel vaults, and the walls are pierced by triple windows. two capitals built into the exterior face of the northern wall, and marked with a cross, were doubtless the capitals of the shafts which divided the northern window into three lights. the western arm of the cross is covered by the roof of the narthex, and lighted by a small round-headed window above it. the small narthex is in three bays, covered with cross-groined vaults. it is not probable that the church was converted into a mosque before 1591, when the patriarchal seat was removed from the pammakaristos to s. demetrius beside the xyloporta. nor could the conversion have been later than 1598, the year in which achmed pasha--who converted the building into a mosque--died.[333] [illustration: figs. 70 and 71.] [322] phrantzes, p. 307. [323] patr. constantius, p. 80. [324] _tagebuch_, p. 456. on the way eastwards from the residence of the moldavian agent (bogdan serai), says gerlach, 'auf diesem spazier-weg hat mir theodosius auch den trullum auf der seiten des patriarchats gegen dem sultan selim gewiesen. welches vor diesen ein sehr weiter platz gewesen, nun aber nichts mehr da als ein rundes getäffeltes haus, wie ein kleines kirchlein ist.' cf. his statement reported by crusius in _turcograecia_, p. 189: 'patriarchatui contiguum est monasteriolum joannis baptistae a graecis sanctimonalibus inhabitatum.' [325] phrantzes, p. 307; cf. _turcograecia_, p. 189. [326] it was also styled [greek: ôaton], 'the oval,' after the form of its roof or of the body of the building itself (synax., sept. 14). _vita stephani._ for the [greek: ôaton], see labarte, _le palais impérial de cons'ple_, pp. 62, 121, 122, 186. [327] _vita stephani junioris_, migne, _p.g._ tom. 100, col. 1144 [greek: en tô hierô palatiô, entha epilegetai ho troullos hoper hêmeis ôaton kaloumen]. [328] balsamon, vol. i. col. 501 [greek: en tô troullô tou basilikou palatiou]. [329] theoph. p. 541. [330] pachym. i. p. 405. [331] _acta et diplomata graeca_, iii. p. 65; cf. paspates, _great palace_, p. 248, metcalfe's translation. [332] _proceedings of greek syllogos of c.p._, archaeological supplement to vol. xvii. p. 8. his principal reason seems to be the fact that a company of nuns occupied some of the cells in the old monastery of s. john in petra when gerlach visited the city. but, according to gerlach, another sisterhood was at the same time accommodated in the small convent of s. john the baptist near the patriarchate.--_turcograecia_, p. 189. [333] cf. paspates, p. 304. chapter xiii the church of s. thekla, toklou ibrahim dedé mesjedi in the quarter of aivan serai, a few paces to the rear of the heraclian wall, stands a small mosque known as toklou ibrahim dedé mesjedi, the architectural features of which proclaim it at once to be an old byzantine chapel. there is no decisive tradition in regard to the identity of the building. the patriarch constantius is uncertain whether it should be recognised as the church of s. nicholas or as the church of s. thekla, two sanctuaries situated in the quarter of blachernae. it cannot have been the former, inasmuch as the site of that church was near the holy well, still venerated by christians and moslems,[334] in the area enclosed between the wall of heraclius and the wall of leo the armenian, now a picturesque turkish cemetery. one argument for regarding the building as the church of s. thekla, in this part of the city, is the striking similarity of its turkish name toklou to the greek name thekla, rendering it exceedingly probable that the former is a corruption of the latter, and a reminiscence of the original designation of the edifice.[335] turkish authorities, however, have their own explanation of the name toklou. in the _historical and geographical dictionary_ of achmed rifaat effendi, we are told that a certain toklou dedé was the guardian of the tombs of the companions of khaled, who took part in the first siege of constantinople (673) by the saracens. 'his real name was ghazi ismail; dogulu was his nickname. now dogh is the persian for a drink named airan (a mixture of curds and water), and he was called dogulu dedé because during the siege his business was to distribute that drink to the troops. at his request a christian church near aivan serai was converted into a mosque. the church was formerly named after its founder, isakias.'[336] another turkish explanation of toklou derives the epithet from the rare turkish term for a yearling lamb, and accounts for its bestowal upon ibrahim dedé as a pet name given in gratitude for his services to the thirsty soldiers engaged in the siege of the city.[337] in keeping with these stories is the tradition that the cemetery in the area between the walls of heraclius and leo v. the armenian, is the resting-place of saracen warriors who fell in the siege of 673. but have we not here the fancy-bred tales which oriental imagination weaves to veil its ignorance of real facts? when etymology or history fails, romance is substituted. we may as well believe the tradition that the body of eyoub, the standard-bearer of mahomet, lies buried at the head of the golden horn, in the mosque of eyoub, where the sultan girds the sword on his accession to the throne. no moslem graves could have been tolerated between the lines of the city's fortification in byzantine days. the cemetery between the old walls near toklou ibrahim dedé mesjedi must therefore be later than the turkish conquest. and as soon as moslems were laid there, it was almost inevitable that a church in the immediate neighbourhood should either be destroyed or converted into a mosque. by what name that mosque would thenceforth become known was, of course, an open question. the new name might be purely turkish. but when it sounds like the echo of a name which we know belonged to a byzantine building in this quarter of the city before turkish times, it is more reasonable to regard the new name as a transformation of the earlier greek term, than to derive it from fine-spun etymological fancies and historical blunders. the identification, therefore, of toklou ibrahim dedé mesjedi with the church of s. thekla, on the ground of the similarity of the two names, has a strong presumption in its favour. [illustration: plate lvi. s. thekla. north side, from the north-west.] [illustration: s. thekla. east end. _to face page 208._] note on the church of s. thekla (chapter xiii.) on page 209, note 3, i have said that if the mosque aivas effendi (more correctly ivaz effendi), which is situated behind the tower of isaac angelus within the old area of the palace of blachernae, could be proved to stand on the site of a church, the argument in favour of the identification of the church of s. thekla with toklou dedé mesjedi would be weakened. since this book went to the press, my learned friend mr. x. a. siderides has shown me a passage in the historical work of mustapha effendi of salonica, published in 1865, where the mosque of ivaz effendi is described as a church converted into a mosque by a certain ivaz effendi who died in 1586, at the age of ninety. in that case we should have a christian sanctuary whose position corresponded strictly with the position occupied by the church of s. thekla "in the palace of blachernae," an indication not exactly accurate in regard to toklou dedé mesjedi. in view of the late date of mustapha effendi's work, and the absence, so far as i can judge, of byzantine features in the structure of the mosque, it is difficult to decide if the arguments in favour of the identification of the church of s. thekla with toklou dedé mesjedi are entirely overthrown by the statement of mustapha effendi. a second consideration in support of this identification is the statement made by achmed rifaat effendi, that before the church became a mosque it was known by the name of its founder, 'isakias.' for it is a matter of history that the church of s. thekla was restored by the emperor isaac comnenus[338] in the eleventh century. the association of his name with the building was therefore perfectly natural, if the building is indeed the old church of s. thekla, otherwise it is difficult to account for that association. there is, however, one objection to this identification that must not be overlooked. according to byzantine authorities, the church of s. thekla stood in the palace of blachernae ([greek: entos tôn basileiôn; en tô palatiô tôn blachernôn][339]). that palace occupied the heights above aivan serai, on which the quarter of egri kapou and the mosque of aivas effendi now stand, within the walls that enclose the western spur of the sixth hill. toklou ibrahim dedé mesjedi, however, does not stand within that enclosure, but immediately to the north of it, on the level tract that stretches from the foot of the sixth hill to the golden horn. if the reasons in favour of regarding the mosque as s. thekla were less strong, this objection would, perhaps, be fatal. but the strip of land between the northern wall of the palace enclosure and the sea is so narrow, and was so closely connected with the life of the imperial residence, that a building on that tract might with pardonable inaccuracy be described, as 'in the palace.'[340] the church is mentioned for the first time in the earlier half of the eighth century as a chapel ([greek: euktêrion]) which thekla, the eldest daughter of the emperor theophilus, restored and attached to her residence at blachernae.[341] the princess was an invalid, and doubtless retired to this part of the city for the sake of its mild climate. to dedicate the chapel to her patron saint was only natural. as already intimated, the church was rebuilt from the foundations, in the eleventh century, by isaac comnenus, in devout gratitude for his escape from imminent death[342] in the course of his campaign against the barbarous tribes beside the danube, when he was overtaken at the foot of the lovitz mountain by a furious tempest of rain and snow. the plain on which his army was encamped soon became a sheet of water, and many of his men and animals were drowned or frozen to death. thunder, lightning, and hurricane combined to produce an awful scene, and there were moments when the whole world seemed on fire. the emperor took shelter under a large oak, but, fearing the tree might be thrown down by the furious wind, he soon made for open ground. scarcely had he done so when the oak was torn up by the roots and hurled to the earth. a few moments later the emperor would have been killed. this narrow escape occurred on the 24th september, the festival day of s. thekla, and, therefore, attributing his deliverance to her intervention, isaac rebuilt and greatly beautified the old sanctuary dedicated to her in blachernae, and frequently attended services there in her honour. anna comnena[343] speaks of the restored church in the highest terms. according to her it was built at great cost, displayed rare art, and was in every way worthy of the occasion which led to its erection. zonaras[344] is not so complimentary. he describes the church as a monument of the niggardliness of isaac comnenus. in any case, it was pulled down and rebuilt in the following century by the emperor john comnenus in splendid style, and dedicated to the saviour.[345] as the beauty and wealth of a byzantine sanctuary were exhibited in the lavish adornment of the interior, it is possible that the church of s. thekla, though small and outwardly plain, may have been a beautiful and rich building in its latest christian character. it had then the honour of seeing among the worshippers before its altar anna dalassena, the mother of the comneni. for, when charged with the government of the empire during the absence of alexius comnenus from the capital, that able woman came often to pray in this church, 'lest she should be immersed in merely secular affairs.'[346] _architectural features_ (for plan see p. 206) the building is an oblong hall, m. 13.55 by m. 5.4, divided into three compartments. it is now covered with a wooden roof, but the arrangements of the breaks or pilasters on the walls indicate that it had originally a dome. at the east end is a single apse, the usual side-apses being represented by two niches. the western compartment served as a narthex. during the repairs of the mosque in 1890, frescoes of the eikons which once decorated the walls were brought to view. on the exterior the apse shows three sides, crowned with a corbelled cornice. the central side is pierced by a window of good workmanship, divided by a shaft into two lights, and above the window are two short blind concave niches. high blind concave niches indent the other sides of the apse. in the northern wall are the remains of a triple window, divided by shafts built in courses. above this is a row of three small windows. [334] _ancient and modern c.p._ p. 46. [335] paspates, p. 359. [336] for this information i am indebted to rev. h. o. dwight, ll.d., late of the american board of missions in constantinople. [337] paspates, p. 357, note. [338] anna comnena, vol. i. p. 168. [339] scylitzes, p. 647 (cedrenus, vol. ii.); zonaras, iii. p. 672. [340] if the mosque aivas effendi could be proved to stand on the site of a church, the argument against the identification of toklou dedé mesjedi with the church of s. thekla would be stronger. [341] theoph. cont. p. 147. [342] anna comnena, vol. i. p. 168. [343] _ibid._ vol. i. p. 168. [344] zonaras, iii. p. 672. [345] _ibid. ut supra._ [346] anna comnena, vol. i. p. 169. chapter xiv the church of s. saviour pantepoptes, eski imaret mesjedi the reasons which favour the identification of the mosque eski imaret mesjedi, which is situated on the heights above aya kapou (gate of s. theodosia), with the church of s. saviour pantepoptes, the all-seeing ([greek: pantepoptês]), are the following: first, the tradition to that effect,[347] which in the case of a building so conspicuous can scarcely be mistaken; secondly, the correspondence of its position to that of the pantepoptes, on a hill commanding an extensive view of the golden horn;[348] and finally, the architectural features which mark it to be what the church of the pantepoptes was, a building of the comnenian period. the church of the pantepoptes was founded or restored by anna dalassena,[349] the mother of alexius i. comnenus (1081-1118), one of the most remarkable women in byzantine history, combining to a rare degree domestic virtues with great political ambition and administrative ability. for twenty years she was associated with her son in the government of the empire, and was the power behind the throne which he owed largely to her energy and devotion. about the year 1100 she laid aside the cares of state, and without renouncing altogether her royal style retired to rest in the monastery she had built, until her death, five years later, at an advanced age.[350] there is nothing of special importance to record in the annals of the house. its inmates were occasionally disturbed by the confinement among them of some dignitary who had offended the government, or by the theological disputes that agitated the ecclesiastical circles of the capital.[351] but for the most part life at pantepoptes was quiet and peaceful. only once does the monastery stand out conspicuous before the eyes of the world. when the venetian ships under henrico dandolo, with the army of the fourth crusade on board, lined the shore of the golden horn from ispigas and the church of s. saviour the benefactor to blachernae (_i.e._ from jubali kapoussi to aivan serai) on easter monday, 12th april 1204, the emperor alexius murtzuphlus established his headquarters beside the pantepoptes. there he pitched his vermilion tent, marshalled his best troops, and watched the operations of the enemy. and thence he fled when he saw the walls on the shore below him carried by storm, and flemish knights mounted on horses, which had been landed from the hostile fleet, advancing to assault his position. so hurried was his flight that he left his tent standing, and under its shelter count baldwin of flanders and hainault slept away the fatigue of that day's victory.[352] during the latin occupation the church passed into the hands of the venetians, and was robbed of many of its relics for the benefit of churches in the west.[353] upon the turkish conquest it served for some time as an imaret or refectory for the students and teachers of the _medressé_,[354] then in course of construction beside the great mosque of sultan mehemed. hence its turkish name. after serving that purpose it was converted into a mosque later in the reign of the conqueror. [illustration: plate lvii. s. saviour pantepoptes. door leading from the outer to the inner narthex. view looking north.] [illustration: s. saviour pantepoptes. the dome, looking west.] _to face page 212._ [illustration: fig. 72.] _architectural features_ in plan the church belongs to the 'four column' type, and has two narthexes. the dome, placed on a drum, circular within and twelve-sided without, is carried on four piers which the turks have reduced to an irregular octagonal form. it is divided into twelve bays by square ribs, and is lighted by twelve semicircular-headed windows. the cornice-string is adorned with a running leaf spray of a pleasing and uncommon design. the arms of the cross have barrel vaults, while the chambers at its angles are covered with cross-groined vaults. the apsidal chambers are small, with shallow niches on the north, south, and west, and a somewhat deeper niche on the east where the apse stands. these niches are carried up through a vaulting string-course, carved with a repeating leaf ornament, and combine with the groined vault above them to produce a charming canopy. the southern transept gable, though much built up, still displays the design which occurs so frequently in byzantine churches, namely, three windows in the lunette of the arch (the central light rising higher than the sidelights), and three stilted arches below the vaulting string-course, resting on two columns and containing three windows which are carried down to a breastwork of carved marble slabs between the columns. the floor of the church is paved with square red bricks, except in the apses, where marble is employed. the gynecaeum, above the inner narthex, is divided into three bays separated by broad transverse arches. the central bay, which is larger than its companions, is covered with a dome vault, and looks into the body of the church through a fine triple arcade in the lunette of the western arm of the cross. the smaller bays are covered with cross-groined vaults. as elsewhere, the vaulting-string in the gynecaeum is decorated with carved work. the inner narthex, like the gynecaeum above it, is divided into three bays covered with cross-groined vaults, and communicates with the church, as usual, by three doors. its walls seem to have been formerly revetted with marble. in the northern wall is a door, now closed, which gave access to a building beyond that side of the church. the exonarthex is also divided in three bays, separated by transverse arches, and communicates with the inner narthex by three doors and with the outer world by a single door situated in the central bay. that bay has a low dome without windows, while the lateral bays have groined vaults. turkish repairs show in the pilasters and the pointed arches which support the original transverse arches. the doors throughout the building are framed in marble jambs and lintels, adorned in most cases with a running ornament and crosses. in the case of the doors of the exonarthex a red marble, _brèche rouge_, is employed, as in the exonarthex of the pantokrator, another erection of the comnenian period. on the exterior the building is much damaged, but nevertheless preserves traces of considerable elaboration. the walls are of brick, intermixed with courses of stone, and on the three sides of the central apse there are remains of patterned brickwork. on the buttresses to the southern wall are roundels with radiating voussoirs in stone and brick, and if one may judge from the fact that the string-course does not fit the face of the wall, parts of the exterior of the church were incrusted with marble. the round-headed windows of the dome cut into its cornice. under the church is a cistern[355] which bondelmontius deemed worthy of mention.[356] until some twenty years ago extensive substructures were visible on the north-east of the church, affording homes for poor greek families.[357] they were probably the foundations of the lofty monastery buildings whose windows commanded the magnificent view of the golden horn that doubtless suggested the epithet pantepoptes, under which the saviour was worshipped in this sanctuary. [illustration: plate lviii. s. saviour pantepoptes. exterior decoration in brick, on south side.] [illustration: s. mary pammakaristos. bracket at the south-east angle of the exterior wall of the parecclesion.] _to face page 214._ s. saviour pantepoptes is the most carefully built of the later churches of constantinople. the little irregularities of setting out so common in the other churches of the city are here almost entirely absent. this accuracy of building, the carving of the string-courses, and the remains of marble decoration both within and on the exterior, prove exceptional care. for details see figs. 68, 72, 75. [illustration: fig. 73.] [illustration: fig. 74.] [347] patr. constantius, pp. 70-80. [348] nicet. chon. p. 752. [349] glycas, p. 622. [350] _ibid._ for the career of this distinguished woman, see diehl, _figures byzantines_. [351] nicet. chon. pp. 315-16; pachym. i. pp. 314-15, ii. p. 185. [352] villehardouin, _la conquête de c.p._ pp. 141-44; _chroniques gréco-romaines_, pp. 96, 97. [353] riant, _exuviae sacrae_, p. 178. [354] paspates, p. 314. [355] _die byzantinischen wasserbehälter von k.p._, von dr. p. forcheimer und dr. j. strzygowski, pp. 106-7. [356] _librum insularum archipelagi_, 65. [357] paspates, p. 314. chapter xv the church of s. saviour pantokrator, zeïrek kilissi jamissi according to the tradition current in the city when gyllius[358] and gerlach[359] explored the antiquities of constantinople, the large byzantine church, now the mosque zeïrek kilissi jamissi, overlooking the golden horn from the heights above oun kapan, was the famous church of s. saviour pantokrator. there is no reason for doubting the accuracy of this identification. the church was so important, and so closely associated with events which occurred late in the history of the city, that its identity could not be forgotten by the greek ecclesiastical authorities soon after the turkish conquest. moreover, all indications of the position of the church, although too vague to determine its precise site, are in harmony with the tradition on the subject. for, according to russian pilgrims to the shrines of constantinople, the pantokrator could be reached most readily from the side of the city on the golden horn,[360] and stood in the vicinity of the church of the holy apostles[361]--particulars that agree with the situation of zeïrek kilissi jamissi. the church was founded by the empress irene,[362] the consort of john ii. comnenus (1118-1143), and daughter of ladislas, king of hungary. she came to constantinople shortly before 1105 as the princess pyrisca, a beautiful girl, 'a plant covered with blossoms, promising rich fruit,' to marry john comnenus, then heir-apparent to the crown of alexius comnenus, and adorned eight years of her husband's reign by the simplicity of her tastes and her great liberality to the poor. the monastic institutions of the city also enjoyed her favour, and not long before her death in 1126 she assumed the veil under the name of xené. the foundations of the church were, probably, laid soon after her husband's accession to the throne, and to the church she attached a monastery capable of accommodating seven hundred monks;[363] a xenodocheion, a home for aged men, and a hospital.[364] but the pious and charitable lady had undertaken more than she could perform, and was obliged to turn to the emperor for sympathy and assistance. accordingly she took him, one day, to see the edifice while in course of erection, and falling suddenly at his feet, implored him with tears to complete her work. the beauty of the building and the devotion of his wife appealed so strongly to john comnenus that he forthwith vowed to make the church and monastery the finest in the city, and altogether worthy of the pantokrator to whom they were dedicated;[365] and so well did he keep his promise, that the honour of being the founder of the church has been bestowed on him by the historian nicetas choniates.[366] the imperial typicon or charter of the monastery,[367] granted in 1136, made the monastery an autonomous institution, independent of the patriarch or the prefect of the city, and exempt from taxes of every description. at the same time it was provided with vineyards and richly endowed. according to scarlatus byzantius[368] and the patriarch constantius,[369] a mosaic in the building portrayed the emperor manuel comnenus (1141-1180) in the act of presenting the model of the church to christ. if that was the case the church was completed by that emperor. as will immediately appear, manuel certainly enriched the church with relics. [illustration: plate lix. s. saviour pantokrator, from the west. _to face page 220._] the history of the pantokrator may be conveniently divided into three periods: the period of the comneni; the period of the latin empire; and the period of the palaeologi. during the first the following incidents occurred: here, as was most fitting, the founders of the church and monastery were laid to rest, the empress irene in 1126,[370] the emperor john comnenus[371] seventeen years later. here their elder son isaac was confined, until the succession to the throne had been settled in favour of his younger brother manuel. that change in the natural order of things had been decided upon by john comnenus while he lay dying in cilicia from the effects of a wound inflicted by the fall of a poisoned arrow out of his own quiver, when boar-hunting in the forests of the taurus mountains, and was explained as due to manuel's special fitness to assume the care of the empire, and not merely to the fact that he was a father's favourite son. but when the appointment was made manuel was with his father in cilicia, while isaac was in constantinople, in a position to mount the throne as soon as the tidings of john's death reached the capital. the prospect that manuel would wear the crown seemed therefore very remote. but axuch, an intimate friend and counsellor of the dying emperor, started for constantinople the moment manuel was nominated, and travelled so fast, that he reached the city before the news of the emperor's death and of manuel's nomination was known there. then, wasting no time, axuch made sure of the person of isaac, removed him from the palace, and put him in charge of the monks of the pantokrator, who had every reason to be loyal to the wishes of the deceased sovereign. the wily courtier then set himself to win the leading men in the capital over to the cause of the younger brother, and, by the time manuel was prepared to enter constantinople, had secured for him a popular welcome and the surrender of isaac's claims.[372] in 1147, the famous eikon of s. demetrius of thessalonia was transferred from the magnificent basilica dedicated to the saint in that city to the pantokrator. this was done by the order of manuel comnenus, at the request of joseph, then abbot of the monastery, and in accordance with the wishes of the emperor's parents, the founders of the house.[373] it was a great sacrifice to demand of the macedonian shrine, and by way of compensation a larger and more artistic eikon of s. demetrius, in silver and gold, was hung beside his tomb. but constantinople rejoiced in the greater sanctity and virtue of the earlier picture, and when tidings of its approach were received, the whole fraternity of the pantokrator, with the senate and an immense crowd of devout persons, went seven miles out from the city to hail the arrival of the image, and to bear it in triumph to its new abode, with psalms and hymns, lighted tapers, fragrant incense, and the gleam of soldiers' spears. thus, it was believed, the monastery gained more beauty and security, the dynasty of the comneni more strength, the roman empire and the queen of cities an invisible but mighty power to keep enemies afar off. in 1158 bertha, the first wife of manuel comnenus, and sister-in-law of the emperor conrad of germany, was buried in the church.[374] twenty-two years later, manuel comnenus himself was laid in its heroön in a splendid sarcophagus of black marble with a cover cut in seven protuberances.[375] beside the tomb was placed the porphyry slab upon which the body of christ was supposed to have been laid after his deposition from the cross. the slab was placed there in commemoration of the fact that when it was brought from ephesus to constantinople, manuel carried it on his broad shoulders all the way up the hill from the harbour of the bucoleon (at tchatlady kapou), to the private chapel of the imperial residence near s. sophia.[376] nicetas choniates thought the aspect of the tomb and of its surroundings very significant. the seven protuberances on its cover represented the seven-hilled city which had been the emperor's throne; the porphyry slab recalled the mighty deeds which he whose form lay so still and silent in the grave had wrought in the days of his strength; while the black marble told the grief evoked by his death. robert of clari, who saw the tomb in 1203, extols its magnificence. 'never,' says he, 'was born on this earth a holy man or a holy woman who is buried in so rich and splendid a fashion as this emperor in this abbey. there is found the marble table on which our lord was laid when taken down from the cross, and there are still seen the tears which our lady shed upon it.'[377] some seven months after manuel's death a strange spectacle was witnessed at his tomb. his cousin, andronicus comnenus, the torment of his life and one of the worst characters in byzantine history, taking advantage of the intrigues and disturbances which attended the minority of manuel's son and successor, alexius ii. comnenus, left his place of exile in paphlagonia and appeared in constantinople at the head of an army, as though the champion of the young sovereign's cause. no sooner had he reached the city than he proceeded to visit manuel's tomb, to show the regard he professed to feel for a relative and sovereign. at the sight of the dark sarcophagus andronicus gave way to the most violent paroxysms of grief. so deep and prolonged, indeed, did his distress seem, that his attendants implored him to control his feelings and leave the sad spot. but the mourner protested that he could not quit so hastily a place hallowed by such sacred and tender associations. moreover, he had not yet said all he had to tell the dead. bending, therefore, again over the grave, andronicus continued to address the deceased. the words were inaudible, but they seemed a fresh outpouring of sorrow, and deeply affected many of the spectators, for, as the mourner had not lived on the best terms with his imperial cousin, his grief appeared to be the victory of a man's better nature. but those who knew andronicus well interpreted his conduct as the performance of a consummate actor, and understood his whispers to mean curses and vows of vengeance upon his dead and helpless relative. events justified this interpretation. for andronicus ere long usurped the throne, murdered alexius, insulted his remains, ordered his head to be cut off, and cast the mutilated corpse into the sea of marmora to the strains of music.[378] during the latin occupation the church was appropriated for worship according to the ritual of the roman communion, and many of its relics, its vessels of gold and silver, its jewels and vestments, were carried off to enrich s. mark's at venice, and other shrines of western christendom. how great a value was set upon such trophies, and by what strange methods they were secured, is seen in the account which guntherus,[379] a contemporary historian, gives of the way in which some of the relics of the church were acquired. as soon as the crusaders captured the city in 1204 and gave it over to pillage, a numerous band of looters made for the pantokrator in search of spoil, having heard that many valuables had been deposited for safe keeping within the strong walls around the monastery. among the crowd hastening thither was martin, abbot of the cistercian abbey of parisis in alsace, who accompanied the crusade as chaplain and chronicler. the fever of plunder raging about him was too infectious for the good man to escape. when everybody else was getting rich he could not consent to remain poor. his only scruple was not to defile his holy hands with the filthy lucre which worldlings coveted. to purloin sacred relics, however, was lawful booty. entering, therefore, the pantokrator with his chaplain, martin accosted a venerable, white-bearded man who seemed familiar with the building, and in stentorian tones demanded where the relics of the church were to be found. the person addressed was, in fact, a priest, though martin had mistaken him for a layman on account of the strangeness of the greek clerical garb. the priest did not understand latin any more than the abbot understood greek, and the situation became awkward, for the pitch of martin's voice made it evident that he was not a person to be trifled with. the old man therefore tried what the romance patois, which he had picked up from foreign residents in the city, could do to establish intelligible intercourse with the rough visitor. fortunately the crusader also knew something of that patois, and made the purpose of his visit sufficiently clear. as soon as the iron safe containing the coveted relics was opened, abbot and chaplain plunged four greedy hands into the hoard and stowed relic after relic under the ample folds of their robes until there was no room for more. thus laden, the pious thieves made as fast as they could for the ship in which they had come to constantinople, not stopping to converse with friends on the way, and giving to all curious inquiries the brief and enigmatical reply, 'we have done well.' upon reaching the ship martin found himself the happy possessor of no less than sixty-two relics, including a piece of the holy cross, and drops of 'the blood shed for man's redemption.' martin wished to start immediately for alsace, but circumstances obliged him to remain in constantinople for several months. thanks, however, to the priest of the pantokrator, whom the abbot had treated generously, martin secured a small chapel where to conceal his spoils until an opportunity to return home should occur. a fellow-countryman, indeed, the only other person let into the secret, advised him to secure by means of the relics an abbotship, if not a bishopric, in the holy land. but martin was above personal ambition, and notwithstanding all the difficulties involved in the attempt to carry the relics to the west, waited patiently till he could smuggle them out of the city. at length his chance came; whereupon he embarked for venice, and after a hard and tedious journey of eight months reached home safely. again and again on the way he had narrowly escaped the loss of his treasures at the hands of pirates on the sea and of brigands upon land. but all toils and dangers were forgotten when, on the 24th of june 1205, at the head of the brotherhood of which he was the chief, martin placed the relics purloined from the pantokrator of constantinople upon the high altar of the church of parisis with a conqueror's pride and joy, while the people shouted, 'blessed be the lord god, the god of israel, who only doeth wondrous things.' there is archaeology even in morals. [illustration: plate lxi. s. saviour pantokrator. interior of the south church, looking east.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. the southern arm of the south church.] _to face page 224._ [illustration: fig. 75.] but while called thus to deplore the removal of many of its valued relics, the pantokrator came during the latin period into possession of a sacred object which compensated the house abundantly for all losses of that kind. the church became the shrine of the eikon of the theotokos hodegetria. no relic was held in higher estimation. it was considered to be the portrait of the mother of our lord painted by s. luke, and was brought from jerusalem to constantinople by the empress eudocia, wife of theodosius ii., as a present to her sister-in-law pulcheria. it led the hosts of the empire to victory, and shared the honours of their triumphal entry into the capital. when enemies besieged the city, the eikon was carried in procession through the streets and around the fortifications, or was placed near the post of danger. after the capture of the city by the latins the picture was first taken to s. sophia, then the cathedral of the venetian patriarchs of constantinople. but the venetian clergy of the pantokrator claimed the sacred picture as their own, in virtue of a promise made to them by the emperor henry; and when their claim was ignored, they persuaded the podesta of the venetian community to break into s. sophia and seize the eikon by force. in vain did the patriarch appear upon the scene with candle and bell to excommunicate the podesta, his council, and his agents for the sacrilegious act. the coveted prize was borne off in triumph to the pantokrator. in vain did the papal legate in the city confirm the excommunication of the guilty parties, and lay their churches under interdict. in vain were those penalties confirmed by the pope himself.[380] the eikon kept its place in the pantokrator notwithstanding all anathemas until the fall of the latin empire, when it was removed from the church to lead the procession which came through the golden gate on the 15th august 1261, to celebrate the recovery of constantinople by the greeks.[381] [illustration: plate lxii. s. saviour pantokrator. entrance from the narthex to the south church.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. the interior, looking from the south church through into the north church. _to face page 226._] towards the close of the latin occupation the monastery became the residence of the latin emperor, probably because the condition of the public exchequer made it impossible to keep either the great palace or the palace of blachernae in proper repair. money was not plentiful in constantinople when baldwin ii., the last latin ruler of the city, was compelled to sell the lead on the roof of his palace for a paltry sum, and to use the beams of his outhouses for fuel, nor when he had to leave his son and heir in the hands of the capelli at venice as security for a loan. still, the selection of the monastery for the emperor's abode, even under these trying circumstances, implies the importance and comparative splendour of the building. here baldwin was in residence when the forces of michael palaeologus, under the command of alexius strategopoulos, approached the city, and here he received the intelligence, early in the morning of the 25th of july 1261, that the greeks had entered the city by the gate of the pegé[382] (selivri kapoussi), and set fire to the capital at four points. baldwin's first impulse was to make a brave stand. but his fleet and the greater part of his army were absent from the city, engaged in the siege of daphnusium on the coast of the black sea. meantime the fires kindled by the greeks were spreading and drawing nearer and nearer to the pantokrator itself. so casting off sword and helmet and every other mark of his station, baldwin took ship and led the flight of the latin masters of constantinople back to their homes in the west.[383] the first incident in the history of the pantokrator after the restoration of the greek empire was not fortunate. the monastery then became the object upon which the genoese, who had favoured that event, and been rewarded with the grant of galata as a trading post, saw fit to vent the grudge they bore against certain venetians who, in the course of the feud between the two republics, as competitors for the commerce of the east, had injured a church and a tower belonging to the genoese colony at acre. to destroy some building in constantinople associated with venice was thought to be the best way to settle the outstanding account, and so a band of genoese made for the pantokrator, over which the banner of s. mark had recently floated, and tore the monastery down to the ground, making it a greater ruin than the venetians had made of the genoese buildings in syria. then, not only to deprive the enemy of his property but to turn it also to one's own advantage, the scattered stones were collected and shipped to genoa for the construction of the church of s. george in that city.[384] [illustration: plate lxiii. s. saviour pantokrator. gallery of the north church, looking south.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. the interior of the north church, looking east. _to face page 228._] in the reign of michael palaeologus, a member of the noble family of the princes of the peloponnesus became abbot of the pantokrator, and acquired great influence. he led, as we shall see, the mission which conducted the emperor's daughter maria to the mongolian court, and when the patriarchal seat was vacant in 1275, a strong party favoured his appointment to that position instead of veccus.[385] during the period of the palaeologi the church frequently served as a mausoleum for members of the imperial family. here in 1317 was buried irene, the second wife of andronicus ii., a spanish princess and daughter of the marquis of monferrat. she came to constantinople in 1285, when only eleven years old, a beautiful girl, yolande by name, distinguished for the elegance of her manners, and for a time was the idol of the court. but what with the desire which she developed to amass wealth, and to see her sons share in the government of the empire, she ultimately proved the cause of much unhappiness to her husband.[386] she deserves to be remembered for bequeathing the funds which enabled andronicus ii. to build the buttresses supporting the walls of s. sophia on the north and east.[387] here, in 1425, manuel ii. was laid to rest after his long and troubled reign.[388] beside him were buried his wife irene (1450)[389] and his three sons, andronicus (1429),[390] theodore (1448),[391] john vi. palaeologus (1448).[392] here also was placed the tomb of the empress maria of the house of trebizond, the fourth wife of john vii. palaeologus;[393] and not far off was the grave of eugenia, the wife of the despot demetrius and daughter of the genoese gatulazzo, who had helped to overthrow john cantacuzene and to recover the throne for the palaeologi.[394] as we follow to the grave this procession of personages so closely associated with the fall of constantinople, one seems to be watching the slow ebbing away of the life-blood of the empire which they could not save. in 1407 john palaeologus, then heir-apparent, added to the endowments of the church by giving it a share in the revenues of the imperial domains at cassandra.[395] it would appear that the affairs of the monastery about this time were not in a satisfactory state, for on the advice of the historian phrantzes they were put for settlement into the hands of macarius, a monk from mt. athos.[396] a protosyngellos and abbot of the pantokrator was one of the ambassadors sent by john vii. palaeologus to pope martin v. to negotiate the union of the churches.[397] [illustration: plate lxiv. s. saviour pantokrator. arch in the north wall of the south church, seen from the south church, looking northwards.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. arch in the north wall of the south church, seen from the central church, looking southwards. _to face page 230._] the most famous inmate of the pantokrator was george scholarius, better known as gennadius, the first patriarch of constantinople after the turkish conquest. on account of his learning and legal attainments he accompanied the emperor john vii. palaeologus and the patriarch joseph to the council of ferrara and florence in 1438, to take part in the negotiations for the union of christendom. as submission to the papal demands was the only hope of obtaining the aid of the west for the roman empire in the east, the emperor, with most of the greek clergy in attendance at the council, subscribed the decrees of that assembly, and on the 8th july 1438 the two churches were officially reconciled and bound to common action. but it was a union without sufficient religious motive on the one side and without strong political interest on the other. instead of improving the situation it made matters worse. but drowning men clutch even unsubstantial objects, and accordingly the emperor constantine dragases, a few years later, implored again the assistance of the pope, begging him to send a commission of roman ecclesiastics to constantinople to confer once more with greek theologians with the hope of making the union more effective. in response to that request a commission was appointed, having at its head cardinal isidore, a greek ecclesiastic, who at the council of florence had cast in his lot with the latins and been created cardinal and titular archbishop of kiev. isidore and his colleagues were welcomed with great demonstrations of joy, and after several meetings with representatives of the eastern church terms of union were once more devised. the event was celebrated by a religious service in s. sophia, according to roman rite, in the presence of the emperor, the senate, and a large body of ecclesiastics. in the order of the prayers offered that day in the cathedral of the east the name of the pope was mentioned first. but these proceedings only exasperated the opponents of the union, who had the advantage in numbers and in passionate convictions. seeking for a leader they flocked to the monastery of the pantokrator to consult gennadius. it was a critical moment. gennadius retired to his cell. then opening the door he affixed his answer in writing upon it, and again shut himself in. the oracle had spoken: 'wretched romans, whither have ye strayed, and gone far from hope in god to put your trust in the franks? your city and your religion will perish together. you abandon the faith of your fathers and embrace impiety. woe unto you in the day of judgment.' the words spread like wildfire and enflamed the excited crowd within and around the monastery. anathemas, cursing all supporters of the union in the past, in the present, and in the future resounded on every hand. the answer of gennadius was carried through the city and found an echo among all classes of the population. men ran to the taverns to drink undiluted wine, in derision of the roman practice of mixing water with the wine of the holy communion; they shouted themselves hoarse with maledictions on the unionists; they drank to the honour of the theotokos, invoking her aid as in the days of old, when she delivered the city out of the hands of the persians, the avars, and the saracens. far and wide rose the cry, 'away with the help and the worship of the latin eaters of unleavened bread.'[398] the two scenes witnessed, on the 12th december 1452, in s. sophia and at the pantokrator displayed a discord that hastened the downfall of new rome. that day the party with the watchword, 'better the turban of the turk than the tiara of the pope,' gained the victory. upon the capture of the city, the greek community, owing to the recent death of the patriarch athanasius, found itself without an ecclesiastical chief. the conqueror, anxious to conciliate his greek subjects, proclaimed complete religious toleration, and gave orders that they should forthwith proceed to the free election of a new patriarch. under the circumstances there could be no question as to the right man for the place. gennadius, who had opposed the unprofitable latin alliance, and saved the national church notwithstanding the ruin of the empire, was unanimously chosen to be the first guide of his people along the strange and difficult path they were now to follow. the choice being confirmed by the sultan, gennadius left the pantokrator to do homage to the new master of the realm. every mark of honour was paid to the prelate. he was invited to the royal table and granted a long audience, at which, following the practice of byzantine emperors, the sultan presented him with a magnificent pastoral staff, and promised to respect all the ancient privileges of the patriarchal see. when gennadius took leave, the sultan accompanied him to the foot of the stairs of the palace, saw him mounted on a fine and richly caparisoned horse, and ordered the notables of the court to escort him to the church of the holy apostles, which was to replace s. sophia as the cathedral of the greek communion.[399] it was certainly fortunate for the orthodox church at that cruel moment in its history to find in one of the cells of the pantokrator a man able to win the goodwill of the empire's conqueror. when nothing could save the state, gennadius saved the nation's church, and with the church many forms of national life. muralt, looking at these transactions from another standpoint, says, 'c'est ainsi que les grecs virent accompli leur voeu d'être délivrés de l'union avec les latins.'[400] [illustration: plate lxv. s. saviour pantokrator. narthex of the north church, looking north.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. outer narthex of the south church, looking north. _to face page 232._] it would appear that the pantokrator was abandoned by its christian owners very soon after the conquest. the great decrease of the greek population that followed the downfall of the city left several quarters of constantinople with few if any christian inhabitants, and so brought to an end the native religious service in many churches of the capital. for some time thereafter the deserted building was used by fullers and workers in leather as a workshop and dwelling.[401] but the edifice was too grand to be allowed to suffer permanent degradation, and some twenty years later it was consecrated to moslem worship by a certain zeïrek mehemed effendi.[402] its actual name, zeïrek kilissi jamissi, recalls the double service the building has rendered, and the person who diverted it from its earlier to its later use. _architectural features_ as it stands the pantokrator is a combination of three churches, placed side by side, and communicating with one another through arched openings in their common walls. the three buildings are not of the same date, and opinions differ in regard to their relative age. on the whole, however, the northern church may be safely considered the earliest structure; the central church is somewhat later; the southern church is the latest. [illustration: fig. 76.] [illustration: plate lxvi. s. saviour pantokrator. south bay in the gallery of the south church.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. in the north church, looking south. _to face page 234._] _the northern church._--this is a simple and dignified building of the domed 'four column' type, with a gynaeceum above the narthex. the narthex is in four bays covered with cross-groined vaults on transverse arches. its southern bay, however, is a later extension, running about half-way in front of the central church to give access to a door into that building. only two bays of the original narthex have doors opening into the north church; the third door which once existed in the northern bay has been partly built up. the narthex is very much out of repair, and the western wall threatens to fall outwards. the dome, pierced by eight windows, shows so many turkish features that it may be pronounced as mostly, if not wholly, a turkish construction. the four square piers which support it are manifestly turkish. when gyllius visited the church in the sixteenth century the dome arches rested on four columns of theban granite, 'hemispherium sustentatur quatuor arcubus, quos fulciunt quatuor columnae marmoris thebaici.'[403] barrel vaults cover the arms of the cross, which, as usual in churches of this type, appears distinctly above the roof on the exterior. the southern arm extends to the central church and its vault is pierced by two windows, inserted, probably, to compensate for the loss of light occasioned by the erection of that building. these windows furnish one indication of the earlier date of the north church. the gynaeceum, like the narthex below it, is covered with cross-groined vaults and contains a small fireplace. the prothesis and diaconicon have barrel vaults and apses with three sides projecting slightly on the exterior. the main apse has a very lofty triple window, and shows five sides. all the apses are decorated with high shallow blind niches, a simple but effective ornament.[404] _the central church._--the central church is an oblong hall covered by two domes, and terminates in a large apse. it is extremely irregular in plan, and does not lie parallel to either of the churches between which it stands. the domes are separated by a transverse arch. the western dome, though flattened somewhat on the four sides, is approximately circular, and divided into sixteen shallow concave compartments, each pierced by a window. some of these windows must have been always blocked by the roof of the north church. the eastern dome is a pronounced oval, notwithstanding the attempt to form a square base for it by building a subsidiary arch both on the south and on the north. it is divided into twenty-four concave compartments, twelve of which have windows. the drums of the domes adjoin each other above the transverse arch, so that the central west window of the eastern dome is pierced through to the western dome. the two windows on either side of that window are blind, and must always have been so. the floor in the archway leading into the south church is paved with inlaid marbles forming a beautiful design (fig. 76). if the whole floor of the church was thus decorated the effect must have been extremely rich. on the exterior the apse shows seven sides, decorated with shallow blind niches. like the church it is very irregularly set out. (plate lxix.) the central church probably served as a mausoleum for the tombs of the imperial personages interred at the pantokrator. in its form and in the arrangement of its domes, as well as in its position on the south of the church to which it strictly belongs, it resembles the parecclesion of s. saviour in the chora (p. 310). [illustration: plate lxvii. s. saviour pantokrator. the pulpit in the south church.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. west side of the central bay in the gallery of the south church. _to face page 236._] _the south church._--the south church is of the same plan as the north church, but is larger and more richly decorated. it has two narthexes, which extend to both the north and south beyond the body of the building. the outer narthex, entered by a single door placed in the centre, is in five bays, covered with cross-groined vaults resting on pilasters. its floor is paved with large slabs of proconnesian marble surrounded by a border of red marble. five doors lead to the esonarthex--the three central doors being framed in red marble, the other two in verd antique. on either side of the central door is a window also framed in verd antique, the jambs of the windows being cut from old columns, and retaining the circular form on their faces. over the central door and the windows beside it is a large arch between two smaller arches--all three, as well as their bracket capitals, now partially built up. there is a door framed in verd antique in each end bay of the narthex. like the outer narthex the esonarthex is in five bays, and was paved with marble in a similar fashion. but while its other bays are covered with cross-groined vaults the central bay is open to the gallery above, and is overhung by a drum dome. the gallery was thus divided into two parts by the open central bay, and both gallery and narthex were lighted by the dome. the exterior of this dome is twelve-sided, with flat angle pilasters and level moulded plaster cornice. it has evidently been repaired by the turks. the inside, however, preserves the byzantine work. it is in twenty-four concave apartments pierced by twelve windows, of which those facing the west cross arm of the church are blind. as the original west window still shows from the inside, though built up, it would appear that the gynecaeum dome was added after the completion of the main church. at present the open bay is ceiled by the woodwork that forms the floor of the tribune occupied by the sultan when he attends worship in the mosque.[405] a door in the northern wall of the north bay communicates with the narthex of the north church, while a door in the eastern wall of the bay gives access to the central church. two doors in similar positions in the bay at the south end of the narthex led to buildings which have disappeared. the three doors leading from the narthex into the church are framed in red marble, the other doors in white marble. the main dome of the church is in sixteen compartments, and is pierced by as many windows. its arches rest on four shafted columns, somewhat gothic in character, and crowned with capitals distinctly turkish. these columns have replaced the columns of porphyry, seven feet in circumference, which gyllius saw bearing the arches of the dome when he visited the church: 'maximum (tectum) sustentatur quatuor columnis pyrrhopoecilis, quarum perimeter habet septem pedes.'[406] the southern wall is lighted by a triple window in the gable and a row of three windows below the string-course. the northern wall was treated on the same plan, but with the modifications rendered necessary by the union of the church with the earlier central church. the triple windows in the gable of that wall are therefore almost blocked by the roof of the central church against which it is built; while the three windows below the string-course are blind and are cut short by the arch opening into the central church, as that arch rises higher than the string-course. as explained, the gynaeceum above the inner narthex is divided by the open central bay of that narthex into two compartments, each consisting of two bays. the bays to the south are narrow, with transverse arches of decidedly elliptical form. a window divided by shafts in three lights, now built up, stood in the bay at the extreme south, and similar windows looked down into the open bay of the narthex from the bays on either hand. the northern compartment of the gynaeceum connects with the gynaeceum of the north church. in the interior the apse retains a large portion of its revetment of variously coloured marbles, and gives some idea of the original splendour of the decoration. fragments of fine carving have been built into the pulpit of the mosque, and over it is a byzantine canopy supported on twin columns looped together, like the twin columns on the façade of s. mark's at venice. the lateral apses are covered with cross-groined vaults, and project in three sides externally, while the central apse shows seven sides. all are lighted by triple windows, and decorated on the exterior with niches, like the other apses in this group of buildings, and those of s. theodosia. in the brickwork found in the fabric of the pantokrator, as mr. w. s. george has pointed out, two sizes of brick are employed, a larger and a smaller size laid in alternate courses. the larger bricks look like old material used again. [illustration: plate lxviii. s. saviour pantokrator. interior of the east dome in the central church.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. interior of the dome in the south church, looking north. _to face page 238._] as already intimated, the monastery was autonomous ([greek; autodespotos, autexousios]), and its abbot was elected by the brotherhood in the following manner:--on some suitable occasion the abbot for the time being placed secretly in a box the names of three members of the fraternity whom he considered fit to succeed him after his death, and having sealed the box deposited it in the sacristy of the church. upon that abbot's death the box was opened in the presence of the whole fraternity, and the names recommended by the late chief were then put to the vote. if the votes were unanimous the person thus chosen became the new abbot without further delay. but in case of disagreement, a brother who could neither read nor write placed the same names upon the altar of the church; there they remained for three days; and then, after the celebration of a solemn service, another illiterate monk drew one name off the altar, and in doing so decided the question who should fill the vacant office. the church was served by eighty priests and fifty assistants, who were divided into two sets, officiating on alternate weeks. in connection with the monastery there was a bath, capable of containing six persons, in which the monks were required to bathe twice a month, except during lent, when the bath was used only in cases of illness. the home for old men supported by the house accommodated twenty-four persons, providing them with bread, wine, oil, cheese, fuel, medical attendance, and small gifts of money. the hospital had fifty beds for the poor. it was divided into five wards: a ward of ten beds for surgical cases; another, of eight beds, for grave cases; a third, of ten beds, for less serious complaints; the fourth ward had twelve beds for women; the fifth contained ten beds for what seemed light cases. each ward was in charge of two physicians, three medical assistants, and four servitors. a lady physician, six lady medical assistants, and two female nurses, took charge of the female patients. the sick were visited daily by a house doctor, who inquired whether they were satisfied with their treatment, examined their diet, and saw to the cleanliness of the beds. the ordinary diet consisted of bread, beans, onions, oil, and wine.[407] throughout their history the monasteries of constantinople remembered the poor. (see plate iii.) [illustration: fig. 77.] [illustration: figs. 78 and 79.] [illustration: fig. 80.] [illustration: plate lxix. s. saviour pantokrator. the east end, from the south.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. the east window of the central church.] [illustration: s. saviour pantokrator. the east end, from the north. _to face page 242._] [358] _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 2, p. 283, 'in supercilio quarti collis vergente ad solis ortum visitur templum pantocratoris, illustre memoria recentium scriptorum.' [359] _tagebuch_, p. 157. [360] _itin. russes_, pp. 105, 233-34. [361] du cange, _const. christ._ iv. p. 81; _itin. russes_, pp. 123, 203-4. [362] synax., august 13; cinnamus, p. 9; phrantzes, p. 210. [363] du cange, _c.p. christ._ iv. p. 81, quoting anselm, bishop of havelsberg, who was in constantinople as the ambassador of lothair the great to the emperor john in 1145. [364] ms. no. 85, in the library of the theological seminary at halki. [365] synax., 13th august. [366] pp. 66, 151. [367] ms. no. 85, in the library of the theological seminary at halki. [368] vol. i. p. 555. [369] _ancient and modern c.p._ p. 69. [370] cinnamus, p. 14; guntherus parisiensis in riant's _exuviae sacrae_, p. 105. the sarcophagus that forms part of a turkish fountain to the west of the church is usually, but without any proof, considered to be the tomb of irene. a long flight of steps near it leads to the cistern below the church. [371] cinnamus, p. 31. [372] nicet. chon. pp. 53, 56, 66. [373] synax., october 26th. [374] nicet. chon. p. 151. [375] _ibid._ p. 289. [376] nicet. chon. p. 151. [377] riant, _exuviae sacrae_, ii. p. 232. [378] nicet. chon. pp. 332-33, 354-55. [379] riant, _exuviae sacrae_, i. pp. 104 _seq._ [380] belin, _histoire de la latinité de constantinople_, pp. 73-74, 113-14. [381] pachym. i. p. 160; niceph. greg. p. 87; g. acropolita, pp. 196-97. the last writer says the eikon was taken from the monastery of the hodegon, which was its proper shrine. the eikon may have been removed from the pantokrator to the church of hodegetria on the eve of the triumphal entry. [382] niceph. greg. i. p. 85. cf. canale, _nuova storia_, ii. p. 153, quoted by belin, _latinité de c.p._ p. 22, 'ov'erano la chiesa, la loggia, il palazzo dei veneziani,' cf. belin, p. 92. [383] george acropolita, p. 195. on the contrary, pachymeres represents baldwin as taking flight from the palace of blachernae, and embarking at the great palace. see vol. i. of that historian's works, pp. 132-48. [384] belin, _histoire de la latinité de c.p._ pp. 22-23, quoting canale, _nuova storia_, ii. p. 153; cf. sauli, i. p. 55. according to fanucci, the venetians themselves removed their national emblems from the pantokrator and tore down the monastery.--belin, _ut supra_, pp. 88, 92. [385] pachym. i. p. 402. [386] _ibid._ ii. pp. 87-88; niceph. greg. i. p. 167. [387] _ibid._ i. pp. 273, 233-34. [388] phrantzes, p. 121. [389] _ibid._ p. 210. [390] _ibid._ p. 134. [391] _ibid._ p. 203. [392] _ibid._ p. 203. [393] _ibid._ p. 191. [394] _ibid._ p. 191. [395] muralt, ad annum. [396] phrantzes, p. 156. [397] _ibid._ p. 156. [398] ducas, pp. 252-60. [399] phrantzes, pp. 304-7. [400] _essai de chronographie byzantine_, ii. p. 889. [401] ducas, p. 318. [402] chadekat, vol. i. p. 118, quoted by paspates, p. 312. [403] _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 2. [404] 'the breaking of wall surfaces by pilasters and blind niches is a custom immemorial in oriental brickwork.'--_the thousand and one churches_, by sir w. ramsay and miss lothian bell, p. 448. [405] it is reached by an inclined plane built against the exterior of the south wall of the church. [406] _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 2. [407] for these particulars we are indebted to ms. 85, formerly in the library of the theological seminary at halki. according to the same authority, near the pantokrator stood a church dedicated to the theotokos eleousa, and between the two buildings was the chapel of s. michael that contained the tombs of the emperor john comnenus and the empress irene. but according to cinnamus (pp. 14, 31), as we have seen (p. 221), those tombs were in the pantokrator. is it possible that of the three buildings commonly styled the church of the pantokrator, one of the lateral churches was dedicated specially to the theotokos eleousa, and that the central building which served as a mausoleum was dedicated to the archangel michael? the parecclesion of the chora where tornikes was buried (p. 310) was associated, as the frescoes in its western dome prove, with the angelic host. chapter xvi the church of s. theodore, kilissi mesjedi high up the western slope of the third hill, in a quiet turkish quarter reached by a narrow street leading off vefa meidan, stands a small but graceful byzantine church, known since its use as a mosque by the style kilissi mesjedi. authorities differ in regard to its dedication. gyllius[408] was told that the church had been dedicated to s. theodore. on the other hand, le noir, on the strength of information furnished by greek friends, and after him bayet, fergusson, salzenberg, claim it as the church of the theotokos of lips. but the church of that dedication was certainly elsewhere (p. 123). mordtmann[409] suggests that we have here the church of s. anastasia pharmacolytria ([greek: tês pharmakolytrias]),[410] and supports his view by the following argument. in the first place the church of s. theodore the tiro was situated in the quarter of sphorakius,[411] which was in the immediate vicinity of s. sophia,[412] and therefore not near vefa meidan. secondly, the indications given by antony of novgorod and by the anonymus of the eleventh century respecting the position of s. anastasia point to the site of kilissi mesjedi. the fact that the church was ever supposed to be dedicated to s. theodore is, in mordtmann's opinion, a mistake occasioned by the circumstance that both s. theodore and s. anastasia were credited with the power of exposing sorcery and frauds, so that a church associated with one of these saints might readily be transferred to the other, especially in the confusion which followed the turkish conquest. in reply to this line of argument, it may be urged, first, that the presence of a church of s. theodore in the district of sphorakius does not prevent the existence of a church with a similar dedication in another part of the city. s. theodore was a popular saint. there was a church named after him in the district of claudius ([greek: ta klaudiou]);[413] another church built in his honour stood in the district carbounaria ([greek: ta karbounaria]);[414] the private chapel of the emperors in the great palace was dedicated to s. theodore;[415] and according to phrantzes,[416] a church dedicated at once to s. theodore the tiro and s. theodore the general, as at athens, was erected in constantinople in his day. as to the indications supposed to favour the view that the church of s. anastasia stood at kilissi mesjedi, they are, to say the least, exceedingly vague and inconclusive. according to antony of novgorod[417] the shrine of s. anastasia was found near the church of the pantokrator, on the fourth hill, whereas kilissi mesjedi stands on the third hill. furthermore, the order in which the anonymus[418] refers to the church of s. anastasia pharmacolytria, immediately before the leomacellum, which mordtmann identifies with the et meidan, would allow us to place s. anastasia in the valley of the lycus. under these circumstances it is wiser to accept the information given to gyllius as correct; for while the greeks of his day were not infallible in their identification of the buildings of the city, there is no evidence that they were mistaken in this particular case. [illustration: plate lxx. s. theodore. north end of the western façade.] [illustration: s. theodore. the church, from the north-west. _to face page 244._] paspates[419] agrees so far with this view, but maintains, at the same time, that the building was the church of s. theodore 'in the district of sphorakius.' that identification is inadmissible, for beyond all dispute the district of sphorakius stood close to s. sophia and not at vefa meidan. mühlmann[420] likewise regards kilissi mesjedi as a church of s. theodore, and identifies it with the church dedicated to that saint in the district of carbounaria. this is possible, although the anonymus[421] mentions the carbounaria before the anemodoulion and the forum of taurus (the region of the turkish war office), and consequently suggests a position for the carbounaria much farther to the east than vefa meidan. still the order in which the anonymus mentions places and monuments cannot be confidently appealed to as coincident with their relative positions. [illustration: fig. 81.] (for other details see figs. 19, 54.) to which of the many saints named theodore in the greek calendar this church was actually dedicated is a point open to discussion, but we cannot go far wrong in ascribing it to one of the two most prominent saints of that name, or, as sometimes was the case, to both of them, s. theodore the tiro and s. theodore the general. the former was a young soldier in the roman army who was tortured and put to death in 306 for not taking part in the persecution of christians under maximian. the latter was a general in the army of licinius, and won the martyr's crown for refusing to sacrifice to false gods, and for breaking their images in pieces. he was the titular saint of the great church in venice before that honour was bestowed upon s. mark the evangelist. his relics were carried to venice from constantinople in 1260, and his figure still stands on one of the columns in the piazzetta of s. mark, with the attribute of a dragon or a crocodile, symbolic of the false gods he destroyed.[422] _architectural features_ the church is a good example of the 'four column' type, with an outer and an inner narthex. the former is in five bays, and extends to the north and south, by one bay, beyond the inner narthex and the body of the church. the terminal bays, it would seem, led to cloisters built against the exterior of the northern and southern sides of the building. le noir and salzenberg[423] show a cloister along the south side of the church, with four columns and an apse at its end. the central bay and the two terminal bays are covered with domes on high drums, without windows. the dome of the central bay has sixteen lobed bays, while its companions have each eight flat ribs. all traces of the mosaics which salzenberg saw in the central dome have disappeared. on the exterior the three domes are octagonal, decorated with flat niches and angle shafts supporting an arched cornice. the exonarthex deserves special attentions on account of its façade. it is a fine composition of two triple arcades, separated by a solid piece of masonry containing the door. on either side of the door, and on the piers at each end of the façade, are slender flat niches, similar to those which occur in s. mark's, venice. the finely carved capitals of the columns differ in type, the two northern being a variant of the 'melon type,' the pair to the south being corinthian. they are probably old capitals re-used. throughout the building are traces of stones from some older building recut or adapted to the present church. between the columns is a breastwork of carved marble slabs similar in style to those seen in s. mark's and in s. fosca, torcello.[424] the upper part of the façade does not correspond to the composition below it, but follows the divisions of the internal vaulting. it is in five circular-arched bays, each containing an arched window. the infilling is of brick in various patterns. the cornice looks turkish. while the masonry of the lower portion of the arcade is in alternate courses of one stone and two bricks, that of the upper portion has alternate courses of one stone and three bricks. moreover, while the design of the upper portion is determined by the vaulting of the narthex, the lower portion takes a more independent line. these differences may indicate different periods of construction, but we find a similar type of design in other byzantine buildings, as, for example, in the walls of the palace of the porphyrogenitus, where the different stories are distinct in design, and do not closely correspond to one another. the outer narthex of s. theodore may have been built entirely at one time, or its upper story, vaults, and domes may have been added to an already existing lower story. but in any case, notwithstanding all possible adverse criticism, the total effect produced by the façade is pleasing. it presents a noteworthy and successful attempt to relieve the ordinary plainness and heaviness of a byzantine church exterior, and to give that exterior some grace and beauty. the effect is the more impressive because the narthex is raised considerably above the level of the ground and reached by a flight of steps. 'taking it altogether,' says fergusson,[425] 'it is perhaps the most complete and elegant church of its class now known to exist in or near the capital, and many of its details are of great beauty and perfection.' [illustration: plate lxxi. s. theodore. the central dome, from the south.] [illustration: s. theodore. the western façade, from the south. _to face page 246._] the esonarthex is in three bays covered with barrel vaults, and terminates at both ends in a shallow niche. the outer arches spring from square buttresses. from each bay a door conducts into the church, the central door being set in a marble frame and flanked by two corinthian columns, which support a bold wall arcade. the drum of the dome is a polygon of twelve sides, and was lighted by the same number of windows. it rests on four columns, which were originally square, but now have large champs at the angles, dying out at top and bottom. barrel vaults cover the arms of the cross, and dome vaults surmount the chambers at its angles. as in the pantokrator (p. 235), the eastern arm is pierced by two windows in the vaulting surface. the central apse is lighted by a triple window, having oblong shafts, circular on their inner and outer faces, and bearing capitals now badly injured. a niche indents the northern, eastern, and southern interior walls of the apsidal chapels. the windows in the northern and southern walls of the church have been built up almost to their full height, leaving only small openings for light at the top. there can be little doubt that they were triple windows with a parapet of carved marble slabs between the shafts. on the exterior the apse shows five sides, and is decorated by an arcade of five arches and an upper tier of five niches. the lateral apses do not project beyond the face of the eastern wall, but are slightly marked out by cutting back the sides and forming angular grooves. bayet[426] assigns the church to the ninth or tenth century, the age of leo the wise and constantine porphyrogenitus. fergusson[427] is of the same opinion so far as the earlier portions of the building are concerned. but that date is based on the mistaken view that the building is the church of the theotokos erected by constantine lips. diehl[428] assigns the church to the second half of the eleventh century. [illustration: plate lxxii. s. theodore. south cross arm (exterior), from the south-east.] [illustration: s. theodore. the east end, from the south. _to face page 248._] [illustration: fig. 82.--s. theodore. plan as given by texier.] [illustration: fig. 83.--s. theodore. part of south elevation showing the side chapel as given by texier.] in the library of the royal institute of british architects, in london, are four volumes of texier's sketches and drawings of buildings in or near constantinople. in that collection is found a complete set of drawings of this church, showing a chapel on both the north and south sides of the building, and even giving measurements on the south side. texier's drawings are unfortunately very inaccurate, so that little trust can be placed in any of them. in addition to the plan of the church an elevation is given, and two sketches covered with indications of elaborate decoration, but evidently quite imaginary. the chapel on the north side is noticed by no other writer, and was probably added by texier for the sake of symmetry. that on the south side, as shown by him, differs in some respects from salzenberg. the only thing certain is that a side chapel did exist here. this church presents a good example of the greater interest taken during the later byzantine period in the external appearance of a church. to the exterior of the walls and the apses some decoration is now applied. the dome is raised on a polygonal drum, with shafts at its angles, and an arched cornice over its windows; the roof gains more diversity of form and elevation by the multiplication of domes, by the protrusion of the vaults of the cross arms and of the apses, thus making the outward garb, so to speak, of the building correspond more closely to the figure and proportions of its inner body. in all this we have not yet reached the animation and grace of a gothic cathedral, nor the stateliness that crowns an imperial mosque; but there is, at all events, a decided advance towards a fuller expression of artistic feeling. (see plates lxxiv., lxxv.) [illustration: plate lxxiii. s. theodore. capital on the southernmost column in the façade.] [illustration: s. theodore. capital in the façade of the narthex. _to face page 250._] [illustration: figs. 84 and 85.] [illustration: figs. 86 and 87.] [408] _de top. c.p._ iii. c. 6. [409] _esq. top._ paragraphs 110, 114, 124, 125. [410] banduri, ii. p. 38. [411] _ibid._ i. p. 10. [412] const. porphyr, _de cer._ p. 623. [413] banduri, iii. pp. 16, 48. [414] _ibid._ i. p. 17. [415] const. porphyr, _de cer._ p. 640. [416] p. 140. [417] _itin. russes_, pp. 105-6. [418] banduri, i. p. 16; ii. p. 38. [419] p. 314. [420] see his paper in the _mitteilungen des deutschen excursions-club, konstantinopel_, erstes heft, 1888. [421] banduri, p. 16. [422] see _the monastery of st. luke of stiris_, p. 61. [423] _altchristliche baudenkmäler von k.p._ plates 34, 35. [424] pulgher, _les anciennes églises de c.p._ p. 23. [425] _history of architecture_, i. 458. [426] _l'art byzantin_, p. 126. [427] _history of architecture_, vol. i. p. 458. [428] _manuel d'art byzantin_, p. 414. chapter xvii the monastery of manuel, kefelé mesjedi the mosque known as kefelé mesjedi, in the quarter of salma tomruk, is commonly supposed to represent the monastery founded by manuel,[429] a distinguished general in the wars with the saracens during the reign of theophilus (823-842). this opinion is doubtless based upon the circumstance that the monastery in question stood in the vicinity of the cistern of aspar,[430] [greek: synengys tê kisternê tou asparos] (the large open reservoir to the east of the gate of adrianople), near which kefelé mesjedi is also situated. but that circumstance alone cannot be regarded as sufficient ground for the identification of the two buildings. there are at least five other monasteries mentioned in byzantine history, all distinguished by the mark of their proximity to the cistern of aspar.[431] and at a short distance to the west of kefelé mesjedi, and nearer to the cistern of aspar, we find the remains of an old church, now odalar mesjedi, which might with equal force claim to represent the monastery of manuel. the commonly received identification may, however, be correct as a happy conjecture. mr. siderides,[432] indeed, considers the identification of the monastery of manuel with kefelé mesjedi a mistake. according to him, that monastery was a reconstruction or enlargement of the ancient monastery of ss. manuel, sabel, and ishmael, which stood on the heights above the phanar, now crowned by the mosque of sultan selim. to the objection that there it would not be near the cistern of aspar, mr. siderides replies by denying the correctness of the identification of that cistern with the open reservoir (tchoukour bostan) to the east of the gate of adrianople, and in the vicinity of kefelé mesjedi. in mr. siderides' opinion the cistern of aspar is the beautiful covered cistern, generally known as the cistern of puicheria, to the south-west of the mosque of sultan selim.[433] but the dimensions of the cistern ascribed to the famous sister of theodosius ii. do not accord with the size of the cistern of aspar. the latter was 'a very large cistern,' [greek: tên megistên kinsternan],[434] while the former is only m. 29.1 long by m. 18 wide, with a roof supported on four rows of seven columns[435]--not a large cistern as works of that class went in constantinople. but if the cistern of aspar was not situated in the district now marked by the mosque of sultan selim, neither could the monastery of manuel have been there. mr. siderides,[436] moreover, identifies the monastery of manuel with that of manoueliou [greek: tou manouêliou] which appears in the proceedings of the synod held at constantinople in 536 under justinian.[437] this, however, does not agree with the statement that the monastery of manuel was originally the private residence of the well-known general of that name in the ninth century. furthermore, it is always dangerous to assume that the same name could not belong to different buildings, especially when the name occurs at distant intervals in the history of the city. many mistakes in the topography of constantinople are due to this false method of identification. as a matter of fact, the monastery of manuel near the cistern of aspar was not the only house of that name in the capital of the east. another monastery of manuel stood beside the golden horn, in the genoese quarter, between the gate of the neorion (bagtché kapoussi) and the gate of eugenius (yali kiosk kapoussi). it had a pier, known as the pier of the venerable monastery of manuel, [greek: skala tês sebasmias monês tou manouêl].[438] paspates is consequently wrong in associating that pier with kefelé mesjedi.[439] [illustration: plate lxxiv. s. theodore. the outer narthex, looking north.] [illustration: s. theodore. capital to the north of the door leading from the outer to the inner narthex. _to face page 254._] mordtmann[440] accepts the identification of kefelé mesjedi with the monastery of manuel as correct, but he identifies it also with the church and monastery which gerlach found in this neighbourhood, and describes under the name of aetius ([greek: tou aetiou]).[441] when visited by gerlach in 1573, the church had been converted into a mosque, and was a beautiful building in excellent preservation. if all that remains of it is the bare structure of kefelé mesjedi, the city has to mourn a great loss.[442] (plate lxxvii.) manuel, the founder of the monastery, was the uncle of the empress theodora, wife of the emperor theophilus, and proved a loyal and devoted servant of the imperial family. twice at the peril of his own life he saved the emperor from capture, if not from death, during the wars with the saracens. nevertheless, being accused of treason he fled to the court of baghdad and took service under the caliph mutasim, until assured that constantinople would welcome him back. he was one of the three counsellors appointed by theophilus to assist theodora during the minority of michael iii., and so highly was he esteemed, that he was acclaimed emperor by the populace in the hippodrome, and might have worn the crown but for his fidelity to the little prince. silencing the shouts raised in his favour, he exclaimed, 'you have an emperor; my duty and highest honour is to defend his infancy and to secure for him, even at the price of my blood, the heritage of his father.' in the iconoclastic controversy manuel supported the policy of theophilus, and therefore found himself in a difficult position when theodora decided to restore the use of eikons. the story is, that while he lay dangerously ill at the time, monks of the studion assured him that recovery was certain if he vowed to uphold the orthodox cause. the vow was taken, and upon his restoration to health manuel favoured the measures of theodora. probably he felt that the current of public feeling on the subject was too strong for him to oppose. but the task of working in harmony with his colleagues in the regency, theoctistus and bardas, was soon found impossible, and rumours of a plot to blind him and remove him from the administration of affairs led him to retire to his house near the cistern of aspar. for some time, indeed, he continued to appear occasionally at the palace, but at last he quitted for ever that scene of intrigue, and converted his residence into a monastery, where he might spend the closing days of his life in peace and finally be laid in a quiet grave.[443] [illustration: plate lxxv. s. theodore. the interior, looking east.] [illustration: s. theodore. the interior, looking east (upper part). _to face page 256._] the building which manuel bequeathed was reconstructed almost from the foundations, a large and beautiful edifice, by the celebrated patriarch photius.[444] it underwent extensive restoration again at the command of the emperor romanus lecapenus (919-945),[445] in token of his friendship for sergius, the abbot of the monastery, a nephew of photius, and eventually an occupant of the patriarchal throne for twenty years (999-1019). in it the emperor romanus argyrus (1028-1034) confined prussianus, a relative of the bulgarian royal family, on a charge of treason;[446] and there michael vii., nicknamed parapinakes (the peck-filcher), because he sold wheat at one-fourth of its proper weight, and then at an exorbitant price, ultimately retired after his deposition.[447] the connection of so many prominent persons with the monastery implies the importance of the house. _architectural features_ kefelé mesjedi is a large oblong hall, m. 22.6 long by m. 7.22 wide, with walls constructed in alternate courses of four bricks and four stones, and covered with a lofty timber roof. it terminates to the north in an arch and a semicircular apse in brick. two niches, with a window between them, indent the walls of the apse, and there is a niche in each pier of the arch. the building is entered by a door situated in the middle of the western wall. originally the eastern and western walls, which form the long sides of the building, were lighted by two ranges of round-headed windows, somewhat irregularly spaced. the upper range is situated a little below the ceiling, and forms a sort of clearstory of ten lights; the lower range has five windows, except in the western wall, where the place of one window is occupied by the entrance. the southern wall is also lighted by two ranges of windows, the lower windows being much larger than the higher. at some time buttresses were built against the eastern wall. under the west side is a cistern, the roof of which rests on three columns. in view of all these features it is impossible to believe that the building was a church. its orientation, the absence of lateral apses in a structure of such dimensions, the position of the entrance, are all incompatible with that character. we have here, undoubtedly, the refectory and not the sanctuary of the monastic establishment. it resembles the refectory of the laura on mt. athos,[448] and that of daphni near athens. it recalls the 'long and lofty building,' adorned with pictures of saints, which formed the refectory of the peribleptos at psamathia.[449] there is a tradition that the use of the building was granted at the conquest to the armenian colony which was brought from kaffa in 1475 to repeople the capital, hence the turkish name of the building.[450] [illustration: plate lxxvi. the refectory of the monastery of manuel, from the west.] [illustration: the refectory of the monastery of manuel, from the south-east. _to face page 258._] note as gerlach's work is rare, the reader may wish to see his description of the church of aetius in the original (_tagebuch_, pp. 455-56):--nicht weit hiervon [the church of s. john in petra] ist eine sehr schöne kirche, [greek: tês aetiou], da vor zeiten ein sehr gross und weites closter gewesen seyn und viel häuser der lehrer und lernenden in sich gehabt haben solle. jetzt wird nichts mehr davon gesehen als das zerfallene gemäuer einer herrlichen pforten und eine trockene ziternen, darinnen die juden die seiden spinnen, zwirnen und bereiten (_serica nectunt fila_). vor der kirchen ist ein weiter hoff, rings aber umb denselbe herumb ein bedeckter gang (_porticus_), welcher mit schönen auff vergüldten viereckichten gläsern taffeln künstlich gemahlten figuren auss dem alten und neuen testament, und mit griechischen überschrifften gezieret ist, aber alte gesichter derselben aussgekratzet sind. die wände dieser umbgänge sind mit marmel von allerhand farben bekleidet. hat auch 3 oder 4 hohe crepidines oder absätze mit der propheten, apostel und christi bildnüssen von gold. der haussoder vielmehr bauherr oder auch der stiffter ([greek: ho ktêtôr]), und sein weib, sind da auch gemahlet in einem habit, fast wie man heut zu tage gehet, aber mit einer ganz fremden hauptzierde (_capellitii genere_), class man darauss abnehmen kan, er sey einer aus den vornehmsten käyserlich bedienten gewesen, dann diese zierde siehet auss fast wie ein hertzogs bareht von seiden and beltzwerck, der bund oder das umgewundene (_cinctura_) von mancherley farben, wie heut zu tage die juden und armenier weiss und blau durcheinander tragen. sein weib hat einen schleyer (_peplum_) fast wie die griechinnen. der bedecte gang und die kirche sind ein gebäu (_porticus muro etiam templi continetur_), und gehet man durch zwey hohe pforten hinein, welche 4 theil in sich begreifft, oder in 4 theil abgetheilet ist. 1. der bedeckte (_porticus_) gang, dessen wände mit marmelstein biss auff die helffte bekleidet sind. der obertheil, da die schwibbögen (_laquearia_) anheben, hat er wie auch die schwibbögen selber die gemählde. in diesem gang oder halle (_porticu_) stehen die weiber, und kommen nicht in die kirchen hinein, wie auch in andere kirchen nicht, als wann sie zum abendmahl gehen. 2. ist die kirche für sich so mit türckischen deppichen (_aoreis_) beleget und hat nur ein thor. ist ein hohes gewölb (_laquearia_) und wie auch die überige 2 gewölbe (_laquearia_) ganz vergüldet und übermahlet, und die wände von unten an biss an die schwibbögen mit dem schönsten marmelstein bekleidet. auss diesem gehet man 3. durch einen niedern crepidinem in dem dritten theil der kirchen, da der bauherr oder stiffter mit andern sehr schönen bildnüssen mit gold gemahlet stehen, mit einem etwas niedern als der vorige schwibbögen (_laquearia_). auss diesem gehet man in den 4ten gewölbten auch gemahlten aber etwas finstern und viel kleine fenster in sich haltenden ort. aussen an der kirchmauren stehet diese schrift. [illustration: monogram in greek.] vor dem vorhoff (_vestibulo_, [greek: propiliô]) dieser kirchen [greek: tês 'aetiou] zeigte mir theodosius den ort, da der letzte christliche käyser constantinus als er bey der türckischen eroberung der stadt fliehen wollen, von pferde gestürtzet, und tod gefunden seyn solle. 'not far from here is a very beautiful church where there is said to have been in times past a very large monastery with many houses for teachers and scholars within its walls. nothing of all that is to be seen now except the ruins of a splendid gate and a dry cistern in which the jews spin, throw, and prepare silk. in front of the church there is a large court surrounded by a covered passage (_porticus_), which is adorned with beautiful figures from the old and new testaments painted on gilded quadrangular glass cubes with greek inscriptions; but the ancient faces of these (figures) are scratched out. the walls of this passage are covered with marble of different colours. it has also three or four high crepidines[451] or vaulted compartments (?) with the pictures of the prophets, of the apostles, and of christ in gold. the master of the house, or rather the builder, or perhaps the founder, [greek: ho ktêtôr], and his wife are also painted there in a costume very much the same as is worn to-day, but with a very strange head-ornament, from which we may conclude that he was one of the most distinguished of the imperial staff, for this ornament looks almost like a duke's biretta of silk and fur; the belt (_cinctura_) is of different colours, such as nowadays the jews or armenians wear, white and blue mixed. his wife has a veil (_peplum_) almost like that which greek women have. the covered passage and the church form one building (_porticus muro etiam templi continetur_), entered by two high gates, and comprising four parts, or divided into four parts. 1. the covered passage (_porticus_), the walls of which as far as half their height are covered with marble. on the upper part, where the arches begin, and on the arches themselves are the paintings. in this passage or hall stand the women, and do not enter the church as they do not enter other churches, unless they go to the lord's supper. 2. is the church, as such, covered with turkish rugs, and has only one gate. it has a high dome, which, like the remaining two domes, is entirely gilded and painted, and the walls up to the arches are covered with the most beautiful marble. from this one enters 3. through a low vaulted compartment, with a somewhat lower arch than the foresaid arches, the third part of the church, where the founder with other very beautiful portraits (pictures) is painted in gold. from this one enters 4. a vaulted and also painted, but rather dark place, with many small windows. on the outside of the walls of the church there is this inscription[452]- [illustration: monogram in greek.] in front of the porch, vestibulo, [greek: propiliô] of this church theodosius showed me the place where the last christian emperor constantine, intending to flee at the turkish conquest of the city, is said to have fallen from his horse and to have been found dead.' [illustration: figs. 88 and 89.] [429] scarlatus byzantius, p. 369; patr. constantius, p. 81; paspates, p. 304. [430] leo gramm. pp. 218, 222. [431] siderides, in _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ vol. xxviii. p. 265. [432] _ibid._ p. 263. [433] _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._, _ut supra_, p. 258. [434] _pasch. chron._ p. 593. [435] _die byzantinischen wasserbehälter von konstantinopel_, von dr. forscheimer und dr. strzygowski, pp. 62-63, 175-176. [436] _ut supra._ [437] mansi, viii. col. 990, col. 1054. [438] miklosich et müller, pp. 28, 50, 53, 54. [439] p. 305. on p. 163 he places the pier in its proper position. [440] _esq. top._ p. 76; archaeological supplement to vol. xviii. of the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ p. 9. [441] _türkisches tagebuch_, pp. 455-56; cf. crusius, _turcograecia_ p. 190. [442] the question thus raised presents serious difficulties. that some building[a] in the neighbourhood of kefelé mesjedi was known by the name of aetius[b] is undoubted. it was a cistern (du cange, i. p. 96), and formed one of the landmarks by which the church of s. john in petra, situated in this quarter of the city, was distinguished (du cange, iv. p. 152 [greek: engista tou aetiou]). but while that is the case, gyllius (_de top. c.p._ iv.), who explored this part of the city in 1550, does not mention any byzantine church that answers at all to gerlach's description of the church of aetius, unless it be the chora. that gyllius should have overlooked so beautiful a monument of byzantine days as the church of aetius, if different from the chora, is certainly very strange. but it is not less strange to find that gerlach does not speak of the chora. can the difficulty thus presented be removed by the supposition that gerlach refers to the chora under the name of aetius? the position he assigns to the church of aetius in relation to the church of s. john in petra and to the palace of constantine (tekfour serai) favours that view, for he places the church of aetius between s. john and the palace, exactly where the chora would stand in that series of buildings. looking towards the north-west from the windows of a house a little to the east of the pammakaristos, gerlach says 'ad occasum, boream versus, prodromi [greek: monê] est, olim [greek: petra]; longius inde, aetii [greek: monê]; postea, palatium constantini' (_turcograecia_, p. 190). on the other hand, gerlach's description of the church of aetius differs in so many particulars from what holds true of the chora, that it is difficult, if not impossible, to believe that in that description he had the latter church in mind. unless, then, we are prepared to admit grave mistakes in gerlach's description, we must either assume an extraordinary failure on his part and on the part of gyllius to notice a most interesting byzantine monument, directly on the path of both explorers in this quarter of the city, or regret the disappearance of an ancient sanctuary that rivalled the chora in splendour. [a] it was probably the ruined cistern with twenty-four columns arranged in four rows of seven pillars each, near the mosque kassim aga, a short distance above kefelé mesjedi. gerlach associates it with the church of aetius. [b] _tagebuch_, pp. 455-56; cf. crusius, _turcograecia_, p. 190. in the documents associated with the synod of 536 in constantinople the cistern of aetius serves to identify the monastery of mara (mansi, viii. cols. 910, 930, 990). cf. banduri, iii. p. 49; v. p. 106. [443] there is some uncertainty as to the identity of manuel. some authorities distinguish manuel the general from manuel the uncle of theodora, on the ground that the former is said to have died of wounds received in battle during the reign of theophilus (see leo gramm. p. 222). but it would be strange for different manuels to reside near the cistern of aspar, and to convert their residences into the monastery of manuel in that vicinity. for other reasons for the identification see bury, _eastern roman empire_, appendix viii. p. 476. [444] theodore balsamon, vol. i. p. 1041; canon vii. of the synod of constantinople held under photius. [445] theoph. cont. p. 433, [greek: monê tou manouêlou]. [446] cedrenus, ii. p. 487. [447] scylitzes, in cedrenus, ii, p. 738. [448] h. brockhaus, _die kunst in den athos-klöstern_, p. 34; g. millet, _le monastère de daphné_. [449] gerlach, _tagebuch_, p. 337. [450] paspates, p. 395. [451] in parker's _glossary of architecture_, p. 506, the term is defined 'quae vulgariter a volta dicitur' (matt. par. 1056). du cange defines the word 'caverna ubi viae conveniunt.' [452] according to the patriarch constantius (_ancient and modern constantinople_, p. 76), the monogram- [illustration: monogram in greek.] was to be seen in his day on the exterior western wall of the chora. chapter xviii monastir mesjedi at a short distance within top kapoussi (gate of s. romanus) that pierces the landward walls of the city, and a little to the south of the street leading to that entrance, in the quarter of tash mektep, mustapha tchaoush, stands a lonely byzantine chapel which now goes by the name monastir mesjedi, the chapel of the monastery. its present designation tells us all that is certain in regard to the history of the edifice; it was originally a chapel attached to a christian monastery, and after the turkish conquest became a moslem place of worshp. paspates[453] is disposed to identify the building with the chapel of the theotokos erected in this vicinity, in the thirteenth or fourteenth century, by phocas maroules[454] on the site of the ancient church dedicated to the three martyr sisters menodora, metrodora, and nymphodora.[455] the chapel built by maroules in fact belonged to a convent, and owing to its comparatively recent date might well be standing to this day. but the evidence in favour of the proposed identification is slight. in a city crowded with sanctuaries more than one small chapel could be situated near the gate of s. romanus. an old font, turned upside down and made to serve as a well-head by having its bottom knocked out, lies on a vacant lot on the same side of the street as monastir mesjedi, but nearer the gate of s. romanus, and seems to mark the site of another sanctuary. so likewise do the four columns crowned with ancient capitals which form the porch of the mosque kurkju jamissi, on the north side of the street. [illustration: plate lxxvii. the cistern of aetius. with the kind permission of sir benjamin stone. _to face page 262._] phocas maroules was domestic of the imperial table under andronicus ii. palaeologus (1282-1328). he appears also as the commander of the guards on the city walls that screened the palace of blachernae, when andronicus iii. palaeologus, accompanied by john cantacuzene, the protostrator synadenus, and an escort of thirty soldiers, stood before the gate of gyrolimné to parley with the elder emperor. the domestic was the bearer of the messages exchanged between the imperial relatives on that occasion. it was a thankless task. but what troubled the mind of maroules most was how to avoid giving offence to both sovereigns and succeed in serving two masters. to salute the grandson as became his rank and pretensions would incur the grandfather's displeasure; to treat rudely the young prince, who had come on a friendly errand, and addressed the domestic in gracious terms, was an impropriety which the reputation of maroules as a paragon of politeness would not allow him to commit. furthermore, fortune being fickle, he felt bound as a prudent man to consult her caprices. accordingly, allowing less discreet officials beside him to insult the younger emperor as much as they pleased, he himself refrained both from all taunts and from all courteous speech. in response to the greetings of andronicus iii. he said nothing, but at the same time made a respectful bow, thus maintaining his good manners and yet guarding his interests whatever turn the dispute between the two emperors might take. john cantacuzene, a kindred spirit, extols the behaviour of maroules in this dilemma as beyond all praise.[456] after the death of maroules his widow and son attempted to turn the convent into a monastery. but the patriarchal court, before which the case came in 1341, decided in favour of the claims of the nuns, on the principle that the intention of the founder should in such matters be always respected. hence convents were not allowed to be changed into monasteries, nor monasteries into convents.[457] _architectural features_ (for plan see p. 261.) the building is a small oblong hall roofed in wood, and terminates at its eastern end in three semicircular apses. it is divided into two unequal compartments by a triple arcade placed near the western end. the side apses are shallow recesses, scarcely separated from the central apse, and show three sides on the exterior. the central apse projects six sides, and is now lighted by a large turkish window. the western compartment, forming the narthex, is in three bays covered with cross-groined vaults. the cushion capitals on the columns of the arcade are decorated, on the east and west, with a rudely cut leaf; and on the north and south with a cross in a circle. along the exterior of the south wall are traces of a string-course, of a cloister, and of a door leading to the western compartment. on the same wall paspates[458] saw, as late as 1877, eikons painted in fresco. the western entrance stands between two pilasters, and near it is an upright shaft, buried for the most part in the ground, probably the vestige of a narthex. in the drawing of the church given by paspates,[459] three additional shafts are shown beside the building. [453] p. 376. [454] miklosich et müller, i. 221. [455] for lives of these saints, see synax., september 10; symeon metaphrastes, ii. p. 653. [456] cantacuzene, i. p. 255; niceph. greg. ix. pp. 407, 409. [457] miklosich et müller, i. p. 221. [458] p. 376. [459] _ut supra._ chapter xix balaban aga mesjedi a small byzantine building, now used for moslem worship under the name of balaban aga mesjedi, is situated in the quarter of shahzadé, off the south side of the street leading to the mosque of sultan mehemed and the gate edirne kapoussi. mordtmann[460] proposes to identify it with the church of the theotokos in the district of the curator ([greek: tou kouratoros]), the foundation of which is ascribed to verina, the consort of leo macellus (457-474).[461] the only reason for this conjecture is that the church in question stood where balaban aga mesjedi stands, in the neighbourhood of the forum of taurus,[462] now represented by the open area beside the war office and the mosque of sultan bajazet. but the plan of the building does not correspond to the description given of the theotokos in the district of the curator. the latter resembled the holy sepulchre at jerusalem,[463] and was therefore circular, whereas balaban aga mesjedi is a hexagon. indeed, it may be questioned whether the building was ever a church, seeing it has no room for either a berm, or an apse, or an eikonostosis. it may have been the library of a monastic establishment. _architectural features_ (for plans see p. 267.) internally the building is an accurate hexagon, with a deeply arched recess in each side. five recesses have a window, while in the sixth recess, instead of a window, there is a door. the cornice and wooden ceiling are turkish. externally the edifice shows four sides, two circular and two flat projecting bays, arranged in alternate order. in each of the circular sides are two windows, while the fifth window and the entrance are respectively in the flat sides. a turkish narthex fronts one-half of the building. (plate lv.) [illustration: figs. 90, 91, and 92.] [460] _esq. top._ p. 70. [461] banduri, i. p. 18. [462] synax., july 22nd, december 7th. [463] banduri, _ut supra_. chapter xx the church of the gastria, sanjakdar mesjedi this mosque is situated in the quarter of psamathia, at a short distance to the north of the armenian church of s. george (soulou monastir), which stands on the site of the byzantine church of s. mary peribleptos. paspates,[464] who first recognized the byzantine character of the edifice, regards it as the chapel attached to the convent of the gastria ([greek: monê tôn gastriôn, ta gastria], _i.e._ in the district of the flower-pots). his reasons for that opinion are: first, the building is situated in the district of psamathia, where the convent of the gastria stood; secondly, it is in the neighbourhood of the studion, with which the convent of the gastria was closely associated during the iconoclastic controversy; thirdly, the copious and perennial stream of water that flows through the grounds below the mosque would favour the existence of a flower-garden in this part of the city, and thus give occasion for the bestowal of the name gastria upon the locality. the argument is by no means conclusive. a more fanciful explanation of the name of the district is given by byzantine etymologists after their wont. according to them the name was due to the circumstance that the empress helena, upon her return from jerusalem with her great discovery of the holy cross, disembarked at psamathia, and having founded a convent there, adorned its garden with the pots ([greek: ta gastria]) of fragrant shrubs which accompanied the sacred tree on the voyage from palestine.[465] more sober historians ascribe the foundation of the convent to euphrosyne, the step-mother of the emperor theophilus,[466] or to his mother-in-law theoctista.[467] both ladies, it is certain, were interested in the house, the former taking the veil there,[468] while the latter resided in the immediate neighbourhood.[469] probably the convent was indebted to both those pious women for benefactions, and it was unquestionably in their day that the monastery acquired its greatest fame as the centre of female influence in support of the cause of eikons. theoctista was especially active in that cause, and through her connection with the court not only strengthened the opposition to the policy of her son-in-law, but also disturbed the domestic peace of the imperial family. whenever the daughters of theophilus visited her she took the opportunity to condemn their father's views, and would press her eikons on the girls' lips for adoration. one day, after such a visit, pulcheria, the youngest princess, a mere child, in giving an account of what had transpired, innocently told her father that she had seen and kissed some very beautiful dolls at her grandmother's house. whereupon theophilus, suspecting the real facts, forbade his daughter to visit theoctista again. on another occasion the court fool, denderis, surprised the empress theodora in her private chamber kissing eikons and placing them over her eyes. 'what are these things?' he inquired. 'my beautiful dolls which i love,' she replied. not long afterwards the jester was summoned to amuse theophilus while sitting at table. 'what is the latest news?' asked the emperor. 'when i last visited "mamma" (the jester's familiar name for the empress) i saw most beautiful dolls in her room.' instantly the emperor rose, beside himself with rage, and rushing to his wife's apartments violently denounced her as a heathen and idolater. 'not at all,' answered theodora, in her softest accents, 'that fool of yours saw me and my maidens looking into a mirror and mistook the faces reflected there for dolls.' the emperor did not press the case, but a few days later the servants of theodora caught denderis and gave him a sound thrashing for telling tales, dismissing him with the advice to let dolls alone in the future. in consequence of this experience, whenever the jester was afterwards asked whether he had seen his 'mamma's' dolls recently, he put one hand to his mouth and the other far down his back and whispered, 'don't speak to me about dolls.'[470] such were the pleasantries that relieved the stern warfare against eikons. [illustration: plate lxxviii. gastria (sanjakar, mesjedi). east end.] [illustration: gastria (sanjakar, mesjedi). the entrance. _to face page 268._] on the occasion of the breach between theodora and her son michael iii., on account of the murder of her friend and counsellor theoctistos at michael's order, she and her four daughters, thekla, anastasia, anna, and pulcheria, were confined in the gastria, and there, with the exception of anna, they were eventually buried.[471] at the gastria were shown also the tombs of theoctista, her son petronas, irene the daughter of bardas, and a small chest containing the lower jaw of bardas[472] himself. it is this connection with the family of theophilus, in life and in death, that lends chief interest to the gastria. _architectural features_ (for plan see p. 267.) although the building is now almost a complete ruin, it still preserves some architectural interest. on the exterior it is an octagonal structure, with a large arch on each side rising to the cornice, and thus presents a strong likeness to the byzantine building known as sheik suleiman mesjedi, near the pantokrator (p. 25). the northern, southern, and western arches are pierced by windows. the entrance is in the western arch. the interior presents the form of an equal-armed cross, the arms being deep recesses covered with semicircular vaults. the dome over the central area has fallen in. the apse, semicircular within and showing five sides on the exterior, is attached to the eastern arm. its three central sides are occupied by a triple-shafted window. two shallow niches represent the usual apsidal chambers. a similar niche is found also on both sides of the entrance and on the eastern side of the northern arm of the cross. in the wall to the west of the southern arch is a small chamber. the joint between the apse and the body of the building is straight, with no bond in the masonry; nor is the masonry of the two parts of the same character. in the former it is in alternate courses of brick and stone, while in the latter we find many brick courses and only an occasional stone band. evidently the apse is a later addition. in view of these facts, the probable conclusion is that the building was originally not a church but a library, and that it was transformed into a church at some subsequent period in its history to meet some special demand. [illustration: plate lxxix. gastria (sanjakar). from the west.] [illustration: gastria (sanjakar). the interior. _to face page 270._] [464] p. 304. [465] banduri, iii. p. 54. [466] leo gram. p. 214. [467] zonaras, iii. p. 358. [468] theoph. cont. pp. 625, 628, 790. [469] _ibid._ p. 90. [470] theoph. cont. pp. 91-92. [471] _ibid._ pp. 174, 658, 823; codinus, p. 208. the anonymus (banduri, iii. p. 52) and codinus (_de aed._ p. 97) say that theodora and her daughters were confined in the convent of euphrosyne at the libadia, [greek: ta libadia]. their mistake is due to the fact that the convent at gastria and the convent at libadia were both connected with ladies named euphrosyne. cf. codinus, p. 207. [472] constant. porphyr. p. 647. chapter xxi the church of s. mary of the mongols the church of s. mary of the mongols ([greek: tôn mongoliôn, tôn mougouliôn, tou mouchliou, mouchliôtissa]), which stands on the heights above the quarter of phanar, a short distance to the west of the greek communal school, was founded in the thirteenth century by maria palaeologina, a natural daughter of the emperor michael palaeologus (1261-1282). as the church has been in greek hands ever since its foundation its identity cannot be disputed. the epithet given to the theotokos in association with this sanctuary alludes to the fact that maria palaeologina married a khan of the mongols,[473] and bore the title of despoina of the mongols ([greek: despoina tôn mougouliôn]).[474] the marriage was prompted by no romantic sentiment, but formed part of the policy by which her father hoped to secure the goodwill of the world for the newly restored empire of constantinople. while endeavouring to disarm the hostility of western europe by promoting the union of the latin and greek churches, he sought to conciliate the people nearer his dominion by matrimonial alliances with their rulers. it was in this way that he courted, with greater or less success, the friendship of servia, bulgaria, the duchy of thebes, and the empire of trebizond. and by the same method he tried to win the friendship of the formidable mongols settled in russia and persia. accordingly he bestowed the hand of one natural daughter, euphrosyne, upon nogaya,[475] who had established a mongolian principality near the black sea, while the hand of maria was intended for holagu, famous in history as the destroyer in 1258 of the caliphate of baghdad. maria left constantinople for her future home in 1265 with a great retinue, conducted by theodosius de villehardouin, abbot of the monastery of the pantokrator, who was styled the 'prince,' because related to the princes of achaia and the peloponnesus. a rich trousseau accompanied the bride-elect, and a tent of silk for a chapel, furnished with eikons of gold affixed to crosses, and with costly vessels for the celebration of the holy sacrifice. when the mission reached caesarea news came that holagu was dead, but since reasons of state inspired the proposed marriage, the bridal party continued its journey to the mongolian court, and there in due time maria was wedded to abaga, the son and successor of holagu, after the bridegroom had received, it is said, christian baptism.[476] [illustration: fig. 93.--s. mary of the mongols. exterior. (from a photograph.)] [illustration: fig. 94.--s. mary of the mongols. interior.] in 1281 abaga was poisoned by his brother achmed,[477] and maria deemed it prudent, and doubtless welcome, after an absence of sixteen years, to return to constantinople. she appears again in history during the reign of her brother andronicus ii. palaeologus, when for the second time she was offered as a bride to the mongolian prince, charbanda, who then ruled in persia,[478] the object of this new matrimonial alliance being to obtain the aid of the mongols against the turks, who under othman had become a dangerous foe and were threatening nicaea. with this purpose in view maria proceeded to that city, both to encourage the defence of an important strategic position and to press forward the negotiations with charbanda. the despoina of the mongols, however, did not comprehend the character of the enemy with whom she had to deal. her contemptuous demeanour towards othman, and her threats to bring the mongols against him, only roused the spirit of the turkish chieftain, and before the greeks could derive any advantage from the 30,000 mongolian troops sent to their aid, othman stormed the fortress of tricocca, an outpost of nicaea, and made it the base of his subsequent operations.[479] the church was built for the use of a convent which the despoina of the mongols, like many other ladies in byzantine times, erected as a haven of refuge for souls who had dedicated their lives to the service of god ([greek: limena psychôn kata theon prosthemenôn bioun]). she also endowed it with property in the immediate neighbourhood ([greek: peri tên topothesian tou phanari]), as well as with other lands both within and beyond the city, and while maria lived the nuns had no reason for complaint. but after her death the property of the house passed into the hands of isaac palaeologus asanes, the husband of a certain theodora, whom maria had treated as a daughter, and to whom she bequeathed a share in the convent's revenues. he, as soon as theodora died, appropriated the property for the benefit of his family, with the result that the sisterhood fell into debt and was threatened with extinction. in their distress the nuns appealed to andronicus iii. palaeologus for protection, and by the decision of the patriarchal court, to which the case was referred as the proper tribunal in such disputes, the convent in 1351 regained its rights.[480] [illustration: fig. 95.--s. mary of the mongols. the dome.] as already intimated, to this church belongs the interest of having always preserved its original character as a sanctuary of the greek orthodox communion. this distinction it owes to the fact that the church was given to christoboulos, the greek architect of the mosque of sultan mehemed, as his private property, to mark the conqueror's satisfaction with the builder's work. the grant was confirmed by bajazet ii. in recognition of the services of the nephew of christoboulos in the construction of the mosque which bears that sultan's name. twice, indeed, attempts were subsequently made to deprive the greek community of the church, once under selim i. and again under achmed iii. but, like the law of the medes and persians, a sultan's decree altereth not, and by presenting the hatti sheriff of sultan mehemed the efforts to expropriate the building were frustrated.[481] among the turks the building is known as kan kilisse, the church of blood, and the adjoining street goes by the name sanjakdar youkousou, the ascent of the standard-bearer,[482] terms which refer to the desperate struggle between greeks and turks at this point on the morning of the capture of the city.[483] _architectural features_ although the building has always been in christian hands it has suffered alterations almost more drastic than any undergone by churches converted into mosques. the interior has been stripped of its original decoration, and is so blocked by eikons, chandeliers, and other ornaments as to render a proper examination of the church extremely difficult. in plan the church is a domed quatrefoil building, the only example of that type found in constantinople. the central dome rests on a cross formed by four semi-domes, which are further enlarged below the vaulting level by three large semicircular niches. it is placed on a drum of eight concave compartments pierced by windows to the outside circular and crowned with a flat cornice. externally the semi-domes and apse are five-sided. from the interior face of the apse and on its northern wall projects a capital, adorned with acanthus leaves, which, as it could never have stood free in this position, probably formed part of an eikonostasis in stone. the narthex is in three bays, the central bay being covered by a barrel vault, while the lateral bays have low drumless domes on pendentives. the entrance is by a door in the central bay, and from that bay the church is entered through a passage cut in the central niche of the western semi-dome, and slightly wider than the niche. the end bays open, respectively, into the northern and southern semi-domes by passages or aisles terminating in a diagonal arch. the arches between these aisles and the western semi-dome are pierced, and thus isolate the western dome piers. on the south the church has been greatly altered; for the entire southern semi-dome and the southern bay of the narthex have been removed and replaced by three aisles of two bays each. these bays are equal in height, and are covered by cross-groined vaults with strong transverse pointed arches supported on square piers, the whole forming a large hall held up by two piers, and showing the distinct influence of italian gothic work. this part of the building is modern. on the eastern wall is a large picture of the last judgment. the plan of this church may be compared with that of s. nicholas methana (fig. 97). [illustration: fig. 96.] [illustration: fig. 97. s. nicholas methana (lampakes).] [473] pachym. i. pp. 174-75. [474] _ibid._ ii. pp. 620-37. [475] _ibid._ i. p. 231 [476] pachym. ii. pp. 174-75. [477] muralt, _essai de chronographie byzantine_, vol. ii. ad annum. [478] pachym. ii. pp. 620-21. [479] _ibid._ pp. 637-38. [480] miklosich et müller, i. pp. 312, 317. [481] patr. constantius, pp. 84-86. the greek community retains also other churches founded before the turkish conquest, but they are wholly modern buildings. [482] _ibid._ pp. 85-86. [483] n. barbaro, p. 818. chapter xxii bogdan serai in a vacant lot of ground on the eastern declivity of the hill above the quarter of balat, and at a short distance to the east of a mass of rock known as kesmé kaya, stands a byzantine chapel to which the name bogdan serai clings. although now degraded to the uses of a cow-house it retains considerable interest. its name recalls the fact that the building once formed the private chapel attached to the residence of the envoys of the hospodars of moldavia (in turkish bogdan) at the sublime porte; just as the style vlach serai given to the church of the virgin, lower down the hill and nearer the golden horn, is derived from the residence of the envoys of the wallachian hospodars with which that church was connected. according to hypselantes,[484] the moldavian residence was erected early in the sixteenth century by teutal longophetes, the envoy who presented the submission of his country to suleiman the magnificent at buda in 1516, when the sultan was on his way to the siege of vienna. upon the return of suleiman to constantinople the hospodar of the principality came in person to the capital to pay tribute, and to be invested in his office with the insignia of two horse-tails, a fur coat, and the head-dress of a commander in the corps of janissaries. gerlach[485] gives another account of the matter. according to his informants, the mansion belonged originally to a certain raoul, who had emigrated to russia in 1518, and after his death was purchased by michael cantacuzene as a home for the moldavian envoys. it must have been an attractive house, surrounded by large grounds, and enjoying a superb view of the city and the golden horn. it was burnt[486] in the fire which devastated the district on the 25th june 1784, and since that catastrophe its grounds have been converted into market gardens or left waste, and its chapel has been a desecrated pile. but its proud name still haunts the site, calling to mind political relations which have long ceased to exist. the chapel stood at the north-western end of the residence and formed an integral part of the structure. for high up in the exterior side of the south-eastern wall are the mortises which held the beams supporting the floor of the upper story of the residence; while lower down in the same wall is a doorway which communicated with the residence on that level. some of the substructures of the residence are still visible. it is not impossible that the house, or at least some portion of it, was an old byzantine mansion. mordtmann,[487] indeed, suggests that it was the palace to which phrantzes refers under the name trullus ([greek: en tô troulô]).[488] but that palace stood to the north of the church of the pammakaristos (fetiyeh jamissi), and had disappeared when phrantzes wrote. gerlach,[489] moreover, following the opinion of his greek friends, distinguishes between the trullus and the moldavian residence, and places the site of the former near the byzantine chapel now converted into achmed pasha mesjedi, to the south of the church of the pammakaristos.[490] [illustration: plate lxxx. bogdan serai. apse of the upper chapel.] [illustration: bogdan serai. a pendentive of the dome.] [illustration: bogdan serai. the chapel from the north-west. _to face page 280._] opinions differ in regard to the dedication of the chapel. paspates,[491] following the view current among the gardeners who cultivated the market-gardens in the neighbourhood, maintained that the chapel was dedicated to s. nicholas. hence the late canon curtis, of the crimean memorial church in constantinople, believed that this was the church of ss. nicholas and augustine of canterbury, founded by a saxon noble who fled to constantinople after the norman conquest of england. what is certain is that in the seventeenth century the chapel was dedicated to the theotokos. du cange mentions it under the name, ecclesia deiparae serai bogdaniae.[492] mordtmann has proved[493] that bogdan serai marks the site of the celebrated monastery and church of s. john the baptist in petra,--the title 'in petra' being derived from the neighbouring mass of rock, which the byzantines knew as [greek: palaia petra], and which the turks style kesmé kaya, the chopped rock. according to a member of the monastery, who flourished in the eleventh century, the house was founded by a monk named bara in the reign of anastasius i. (491-518) near an old half-ruined chapel dedicated to s. john the baptist, in what was then a lonely quarter of the city, between the gate of s. romanus (top kapoussi) and blachernae. the monastery becomes conspicuous in the narratives of the russian pilgrims to the shrines of the city, under the designation, the monastery of s. john, rich-in-god, because the institution was unendowed and dependent upon the freewill offerings of the faithful, which 'by the grace of god and the care and prayers of john' were generous. thrice a year, on the festivals of the baptist and at easter, the public was admitted to the monastery and hospitably entertained. it seems to have suffered during the latin occupation, for it is described in the reign of andronicus ii. as standing abandoned in a vineyard. but it was restored, and attracted visitors by the beauty of its mosaics and the sanctity of its relics.[494] in 1381 a patriarchal decision conferred upon the abbot the titles of archimandrite and protosyngellos, and gave him the third place in the order of precedence among the chiefs of the monasteries of the city, 'that thus the outward honours of the house might reflect the virtue and piety which adorned its inner life.'[495] owing to the proximity of the house to the landward walls, it was one of the first shrines[496] to become the spoil of the turks on the 29th of may 1453, and was soon used as a quarry to furnish materials for new buildings after the conquest. gyllius visited the ruins, and mistaking the fabric for the church of s. john the baptist at the hebdomon, gave rise to the serious error of placing that suburb in this part of the city instead of at makrikeui beside the sea of marmora.[497] gerlach[498] describes the church as closed because near a mosque. portions, however, of the monastic buildings and of the strong wall around them still survived, and eikons of celebrated saints still decorated the porch. on an eikon of christ the title of the monastery, petra, was inscribed. some of the old cells were then occupied by nuns, who were maintained by the charitable gifts of wealthy members of the greek community. _architectural features_ the building is in two stories, and may be described as a chapel over a crypt. it points north-east, a peculiar orientation probably due to the adaptation of the chapel to the position of the residence with which it was associated. the masonry is very fine and regular, built in courses of squared stone alternating with four courses of brick, all laid in thick mortar joints, and pierced with numerous putlog holes running through the walls. it presents a striking likeness to the masonry in the fortifications of the city. the lower story is an oblong hall covered with a barrel vault, and terminates in an arch and apse. in the west side of one of the jambs of the arch is a small niche. the vault for one-third of its height is formed by three courses of stone laid horizontally and cut to the circle; above this it is of brick with radiating joints. here cows are kept. the upper story is m. 3.75 above the present level of the ground. it is a single hall m. 8.80 in length and m. 3.70 wide, terminating in a bema and a circular apse in brick. over the bema is a barrel vault. a dome, without drum or windows, resting on two shallow flat arches in the lateral walls and two deep transverse arches strengthened by a second order of arches, covers the building. in the wall towards the north-west there is a window between two low niches; and a similar arrangement is seen in the opposite wall, except that the door which communicated with the residence occupies the place of the window. the apsidal chambers, usual in a church, are here represented by two niches in the bema. externally the apse shows five sides, and is decorated by a flat niche pierced by a single light in the central side, and a blind concave niche, with head of patterned brickwork, in the two adjacent sides. the dome, apse, vaults, and transverse arches are in brick, laid in true radiating courses. the absence of windows in the dome is an unusual feature, which occurs also in the angle domes of s. theodosia. the pendentives are in horizontal courses, corbelled out to the centre, and at each angle of the pendentives is embedded an earthenware jar, either for the sake of lightness, or to improve, as some think, the acoustics of the building. this story of the chapel is used as a hayloft. a careful survey of the building shows clearly that the domical character of the chapel is not original, and that the structure when first erected was a simple hall covered with a wooden roof. both the shallow wall arches and the deep transverse arches under the dome are insertions in the walls of an older fabric. they are not supported on pilasters, as is the practice elsewhere, but rest on corbels, and, in order to accommodate these corbels, the lateral niches, originally of the same height as the central window, have been reduced in height. a fragment of the original arch still remains, cut into by the wall arch of the dome. the flat secondary arches crossing the chapel at each end are similarly supported on corbels. this view is confirmed by the examination of the plaster left upon the walls. that plaster has four distinct coats or layers, upon all of which eikons in tempera are painted.[499] the innermost coat is laid between the transverse dome arches and the walls against which they are built. those arches, therefore, could not have formed parts of the building when the first coat of plaster was laid, but must be later additions. in keeping with this fact, the second coat of painted plaster is found laid both on the arches and on those portions of the old work which the arches did not cover. the secondary arches under the transverse arches at each end belong to a yet later period, for where they have separated from the arches above them, decorated plaster, which at one time formed part of the general ornamentation of the building, is exposed to view. at this stage in the history of the chapel the third coat of plaster was spread over the walls, thus giving three coats on the oldest parts where unaltered--two coats on the first alterations, and one coat on the second alterations. the fourth coat of plaster is still later, marking some less serious repair of the chapel. the _voussoirs_ of the lateral dome arches should be noticed. they do not radiate to the centre, but are laid flatter and radiate to a point above the centre. this form of construction, occurring frequently in byzantine arches, is regarded by some authorities as a method of forming an arch without centering. but in the case of the lateral wall arches before us it occurs where centering could never have been required; while the apse arch, where centering would have had structural value, is formed with true radiating _voussoirs_. the failure of the _voussoirs_ to radiate to the centre therefore seems to be simply the result of using untapered _voussoirs_ in which the arch form must be obtained by wedge-shaped joints. for if these joints are carelessly formed, the crown may very well be reached before the requisite amount of radiation has been obtained. on the other hand, if full centering had been used, we should expect to find marks of the centering boards on the mortar in the enormously thick joints. but neither here nor in any instance where the jointing was visible have such marks been found. still, when we consider the large amount of mortar employed in byzantine work, it seems impossible that greater distortions than we actually meet with in byzantine edifices would not have occurred, even during the building, had no support whatever been given. it seems, therefore, safe to assume the use of at any rate light scaffolding and centering to all byzantine arches.[500] [illustration: fig. 98.] [484] [greek: meta tên halôsin], p. 61; cf. paspates, p. 361. [485] _tagebuch_, p. 456. [486] hypselantes, _ut supra_, p. 638. [487] archaeological supplement to the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ vol. xviii. p. 8. [488] phrantzes, p. 307. [489] _tagebuch_, p. 456. [490] see chap. xii. [491] p. 360. [492] constant. christ. iv. p. 162. [493] see archaeological supplement to the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ vol. xviii. p. 8. [494] ruy gonzalez de clavijo in 1403, _vida de gran tamorlan y itinerario_, p. 50 (madrid, 1782): 'san juan del a piedra está cerca del palacio del emperador' (_i.e._ near the palace of blachernae). [495] miklosich et müller, i. ii. pp. 21-23. [496] ducas, p. 288. [497] _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 4. [498] _tagebuch_, p. 455. [499] when paspates (p. 360) visited the chapel, the eikons were more distinctly visible than at present, although they bore marks of deliberate injury by moslem iconoclasts. [500] see p. 23. chapter xxiii the church of s. saviour in the chora, kahrié jamissi according to the historian nicephorus gregoras,[501] who was long and closely connected with the church, the chora was founded by justinian the great, and then presented the form of a basilica. but there is reason to believe that the edifice erected by that emperor was the reconstruction of an older shrine. the fame of a restorer often eclipsed the memory of the founder of a sanctuary, especially when the restorer was the superior in rank and reared a larger and more beautiful building. according to symeon metaphrastes,[502] the site of the chora was first consecrated by the interment of s. babylas and his eighty-four disciples, who were martyred in 298 during the reign of maximianus. the scene of their execution, indeed, was nicomedia; but friendly hands obtained possession of the bodies of the champions of the faith, and taking them to constantinople, buried them outside the walls of the city, towards the north, in the place subsequently occupied by the monastery of the chora. as will appear, the relics of s. babylas and his disciples formed part of the treasures of the chora in the ninth century.[503] [illustration: plate lxxxi. s. saviour in the chora, from the west.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora, from the south-east. _to face page 288._] the settlement of the approximate date of the foundation of the church depends, ultimately, upon the meaning to be attached to the term chora ([greek: chôra]). there are some writers who incline to the idea that in this connection that term was employed from the first in a mystical sense, to denote the attribute of christ as the sphere of man's highest life; and there can be no doubt that the word was used in that sense in the fourteenth century. that is unquestionably its meaning in the legends inscribed on mosaics which adorn the walls of the building. [greek: ic xc mêr thy hê chôra hê chôra tou tôn zôntôn achôrêtou] and it is in that sense that the term is employed by cantacuzene[504] and phrantzes.[505] on this view the description of the church as 'in the chora' throws no light on the date of the church's foundation. other authorities,[506] however, maintain that the term chora was originally associated with the church in the obvious topographical signification of the word, to denote territory outside the city limits, and that its religious reference came into vogue only when changes in the boundaries of constantinople made the literal meaning of chora no longer applicable. according to this opinion the church was, therefore, founded while its site lay beyond the city walls, and consequently before the year 413, after which the site was included within the capital by the erection of the theodosian wall. hence, the phrase 'in the chora' had the same signification as the style 'in the fields' which is attached to the church of s. martin in london, or the style _fuore le mura_ which belongs to the basilica of s. paul and other churches beyond the walls of rome to this day. it is certainly in this topographical sense that the term chora is understood by the byzantine writers in whose works it first appears. that is how the term is used by simeon metaphrastes[507] in his description of the site of the monastery in his day, and that is how the anonymus[508] of the eleventh century and his follower codinus[509] understand the term; for they take special care to explain how a building which lay within the city in their day could be styled 'chora'; because, say they, it once stood without the walls, on territory, therefore, called by the byzantines, [greek: chôrion], the country. the literal meaning of a word is earlier than its artificial and poetical signification. and one can easily conceive how, when the style chora was no longer literally correct, men abandoned the sober ground of common-sense and history to invent recondite meanings inspired by imagination and sentiment. this conclusion is confirmed by the history of the chora given in the life of s. theodore,[510] an abbot of the monastery, which mr. gedeon discovered in the library of the pantokrator on mount athos. according to that biography, s. theodore was a relative of theodora, the wife of justinian the great, and after serving with distinction in the persian wars, and winning greater renown as a monk near antioch, came to constantinople about the year 530, at the invitation of his imperial relatives, to assist in the settlement of the theological controversies of the day. once there he was induced to make the capital his permanent abode by permission to build a monastery, where he could follow his high calling as fully as in his syrian retreat. for that purpose he selected a site on the property of a certain charisius, situated, as the chora is, on the slope of a hill, descending on the one hand steeply to the sea, and rising, on the other, to the highest point in the line of the theodosian walls, the point marked by the gate named after charisius (now edirné kapoussi). the site was already hallowed, says the biographer of s. theodore, by the presence of a humble monastic retreat and a small chapel. the edifice erected by s. theodore was, however, soon overthrown by the severe earthquake which shook the city in 558, and all the hopes of the good man would also have been dashed to the ground had the disaster not called forth the sympathy and aid of justinian. in the room of the ruined buildings the emperor erected a magnificent establishment, with chapels dedicated to the theotokos, the archangel michael, s. anthimus of nicomedia, and the forty martyrs of sebaste. there also stood a hostel for the special accommodation of syrian monks on a visit to constantinople, and a hospital for diseases of the eye.[511] in this account of the early history of the chora, there may be, as schmitt[512] thinks, many inaccuracies. it was easy, even for a member of the house who aspired to authorship, to confuse persons, to err in the matter of dates, and to overlook the changes which the buildings with which he was familiar had undergone before his day. but surely the biographer of s. theodore can be trusted where his statements are supported by more reliable authorities, and we may therefore accept his testimony on the following points: that the original church of the chora was earlier than the reign of justinian; that under justinian the old sanctuary was replaced by a new and statelier building; that the chora maintained intimate relations with monasteries in syria; and that with it was associated a church dedicated to the archangel michael. note the association of a church dedicated to s. michael with the chora, and the fact that the chora stood on the property of charisius, raise an interesting question. for among the subscriptions to the letter of the monks to pope hormisdas in 518, and the subscriptions to the acts of the synod held in constantinople in 536, stands the name of the abbot of the monastery of the archangel michael of charisius.[513] was that monastery identical with the chora? if it was, that fact would be additional evidence that the chora was earlier than justinian's time. on the other hand, it is always dangerous to identify buildings because they were situated in the same quarter of the city and dedicated to the same saint. the absence of all reference to the monastery of s. michael of charisius after the reign of justinian, and yet the association of a church of s. michael with the chora after his reign, may be due either to the ruin of that monastery in the earthquake of 558, or to the subsequent union of the two establishments on account of their proximity. the next important event in the history of the house was the confinement there of the celebrated general priscus, count of the excubiti, at the command of the emperor heraclius (610-641).[514] priscus had taken a leading part in the revolution which overthrew his father-in-law, the infamous phocas, and placed heraclius upon the throne. but notwithstanding that service, the attitude of the general towards the new régime was not considered satisfactory, and with the cruel taunt, 'wretch, thou didst not make a good son-in-law; how canst thou be a true friend?' heraclius relegated him to political nonentity by forcing him to become a monk at the chora. the new brother did not live long, but his wealth furnished the fraternity with the means for the erection of a large and beautiful church. schmitt, indeed, thinks that the biographer of s. theodore, already cited, failed to recognise the identity of the person concerning whom he wrote, and assigned events which occurred in the time of heraclius to the reign of justinian. according to schmitt, s. theodore is really priscus under his name in religion, and to him, and not to justinian, was the chora indebted for its first great era of prosperity. one thing is certain, the splendid church with which the biographer of s. theodore was acquainted, and the wealth and beauty of which he extols in extravagant terms, was not the church erected by justinian at the chora. the latter was a basilica;[515] while the church alluded to in the biography of s. theodore was a domical building.[516] probably the fame of justinian veiled not only what others had done for the chora before him, but also the services performed by others after his day. [illustration: plate lxxxii. s. saviour in the chora, from the north-east.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. the north side. _to face page 292._] in 712 the patriarch kyros was confined in the chora by the emperor philippicus for adherence to the tenets of the sixth general council (680),[517] which condemned the attribution of a single will to the person of christ. the fidelity of the patriarch to orthodox opinion was commemorated annually in the services held at the chora, as well as in s. sophia, on the 8th of january. the monastery was also honoured by the burial there, in 740, of the patriarch germanus (714-730), famous for his piety, his learning, and above all for his opposition to leo the isaurian, when that emperor commenced the crusade against eikons. the tomb of the patriarch was reputed to perform wonderful cures.[518] another notable personage buried at the chora was the patrician bactagius, an associate of artavasdos in the effort, made in 743, to drive constantine copronymus from the throne. upon the failure of that attempt bactagius was captured, beheaded in the kynegion, and while his head was displayed to public view in the milion for three days, his mutilated body was taken to the chora. this might have seemed sufficient revenge. but the rebel's offence so rankled in the emperor's memory, that even after the lapse of some thirty years his resentment was not allayed. the widow of bactagius was then forced to proceed to the chora to disinter the bones of her husband from their resting-place in holy earth, and carry them in her cloak to the dreary burial-ground of pelagion, where the corpses of persons who committed suicide were thrown.[519] like similar institutions the chora suffered severely during the iconoclastic period. because of its connection with the patriarch germanus it became the special object of the hatred of constantine copronymus for monks and was almost ruined. what he left of it was turned into a secular residence, and devoted to the confinement of artavasdos and his family. there also that rebel, and his nine children and his wife, constantine's sister, were eventually buried.[520] with the triumph of the iconodules, in 842, under michael iii. and his mother the empress theodora, happier days dawned upon the chora. it was then fortunate in the appointment of michael syncellus as its abbot, and under his rule it rapidly recovered from poverty and desolation. the new abbot was a syrian monk distinguished for his ability, his sanctity, and his devotion to eikons. he came to constantinople in 814, to remonstrate against the religious policy of leo the armenian, and, according to the custom of monks from palestine on a visit to the capital, lodged at the chora. but so far from succeeding in the object of his visit, michael was imprisoned and then banished to one of the monasteries on mount olympus in bithynia. accordingly, when the cause for which he suffered proved victorious, no honour seemed too great to bestow upon the martyr. it was even proposed to create him patriarch, but he declined the office, and supported the appointment of his friend methodius to that position. methodius, in return, made michael his syncellus and abbot of the chora.[521] under these circumstances it is not surprising that funds were secured for the restoration of the monastery, and that the brotherhood soon gained great influence in the religious circles of the capital. there is, however, no mention now of the church of the archangel michael or of the church dedicated to the theotokos. possibly the death of the abbot in 846 and lack of money prevented the reconstruction of those sanctuaries. the only churches attached to the chora noticed in the biography of michael syncellus are the church of s. anthimus, containing the relics of s. babylas and his eighty-four disciples, the dependent chapel of s. ignatius, and the church of the forty martyrs.[522] let it also be noted that there is yet no mention of a church specially consecrated to the saviour. after its restoration in the 9th century the chora does not appear again in history until the reign of alexius i. comnenus (1081-1118), when, owing to its great age, it was found in a state of almost complete ruin.[523] if for no other reason, the proximity of the church to the palace or blachernae, which had become the favourite residence of the court, brought the dilapidated pile into notice, and its restoration was undertaken by the emperor's mother-in-law, maria, the beautiful and talented granddaughter of samuel, the famous king of bulgaria, and niece of aecatherina, the consort of isaac i. comnenus. maria had married andronicus ducas, a son of michael vii., and the marriage of her daughter irene ducaena to alexius was designed to unite the rival pretensions of the families of the comneni and the ducas to the throne. it had been strenuously opposed by anna dalassena, the mother of alexius, and its accomplishment in 1077, notwithstanding such formidable opposition, is no slight proof of the diplomatic skill and determination of the mother of the bride. nor can it be doubted that irene's mother acted a considerable part in persuading alexius, when he mounted the throne, not to repudiate his young wife, as he was tempted to do in favour of a fairer face. perhaps the restoration of the chora was a token of gratitude for the triumph of her maternal devotion. the church was rebuilt on the plan which it presents to-day, for in the account of the repairs made in the fourteenth century it is distinctly stated that they concerned chiefly the outer portion of the edifice.[524] to alexius' mother-in-law, therefore, may be assigned the central part of the structure, a cruciform hall; the dome, so far as it is not turkish, the beautiful marble incrustation upon the walls, the mosaic eikons of the saviour and of the theotokos on the piers of the eastern dome-arch, and the exquisite marble carving above the latter eikon--all eloquent in praise of the taste and munificence that characterised the eleventh century in constantinople. probably the church was then dedicated to the saviour, like the three other comnenian churches in the city, the pantepoptes, the pantokrator, and s. thekla. the mother-in-law of alexius i. was, however, not alone in her interest in the chora. her devotion to the monastery was shared also by her grandson the sebastocrator isaac. tall, handsome, brave, but ambitious and wayward, isaac was gifted with the artistic temperament, as his splendid manuscript of the first eight books of the old testament, embellished with miniatures by his own hand, makes clear.[525] if the inscription on the mosaic representing the deesis found in the inner narthex really refers to him, it proves that his influence was felt in the decoration of the building.[526] he certainly erected a magnificent mausoleum for himself in the church. later in his life, indeed, he became interested in the restoration of the monastery of theotokos kosmosoteira at viros, and ordered that mausoleum to be dismantled, and the marbles, bronze railing, and portraits of his parents which adorned it to be transported to viros; but he still allowed his own portrait 'made in the days of his youthful vanity' to remain in the chora.[527] note uspenski has identified viros with ferejik, a village situated 30 kilometres from dedeagatch, and 20-25 kilometres from enos, 'aux embouchures désertées et marécageuses de la maritza.' the church is now the mosque of the village. it has five domes and three apses. the central apse is pierced by a modern door. the exonarthex has disappeared and the old principal entrance is walled up. the plan of the church is almost identical with the plan of the chora. while the architectural details are poor and indicate haste, the dimensions of the building imply considerable expense and the wealth of the restorer. there are traces of painting on the walls of the interior, especially in the domes (the virgin) and in the two lateral apses. an epitaph of seven lines in the middle of the mosque contains the title 'despotes.' according to uspenski, the sebastocrator died soon after 1182, the year during which he was engaged on the typicon of the monastery at viros. the monastery was visited by the emperor andronicus comnenus in 1185, by isaac angelus in 1195, and by villehardouin in 1205. early in the fourteenth century it was converted into a fortress, and the country round it was ravaged in 1322 by the bulgarians. it was attacked in vain by john cantucuzene, but was captured in 1355 by john vi. palaeologus. [illustration: plate lxxxiii. s. saviour in the chora. the inner narthex, looking south.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. the inner narthex, looking south. _to face page 296._] another name associated with the chora at this period is that of the patriarch cosmas, who was commemorated annually in the church on the 2nd of january. he had occupied the patriarchal seat in days troubled by the intrigues and conflicts which drove first michael vii. ducas, and then nicephorus botoniates from the throne, and invested alexius comnenus with the purple. they were not days most suitable to a man who, though highly esteemed for his virtues, was without education or experience in public affairs, and nearly ninety years old. still, to his honour be it said, it was at his earnest request that botoniates finally agreed to forego a bloody contest with the comneni, and to withdraw quietly to the monastery of the peribleptos. moreover, when it seemed uncertain whether the victorious alexius would remain faithful to irene ducaena and raise her to the throne, cosmas, notwithstanding all the efforts of anna dalassena (who was ill-disposed towards irene) to persuade him to lay down his office, firmly refused to resign until he had placed the imperial crown upon the emperor's lawful wife. soon after that event, on the 7th of may 1081, the festival of s. john the evangelist, cosmas, having celebrated service in the church dedicated to that apostle at the hebdomon (makrikeui), turned to his deacon, saying, 'take my psalter and come with me; we have nothing more to do here,' and retired to the monastery of kallou. his strength for battle was spent. after its restoration under the comneni, the chora again disappears from view until the reign of michael palaeologus (1261-1282). in the interval the fortunes of the empire had suffered serious reverses, what with domestic strifes and foreign wars. bulgaria had reasserted her independence and established the capital of a new kingdom at tirnovo, while constantinople itself had been captured by the forces of the fourth crusade and made the seat of a latin kingdom. consequently, it is not surprising to find that the chora, like other churches of the ravaged city, was in a deplorable condition at the close of those calamitous days. nothing seemed to have been done for the repair of the church immediately upon the recovery of the capital in 1261. the ruin which the latin occupants of constantinople left behind them was too great to be removed at once. the first reference to the chora at this period occurs some fourteen years after the restoration of the byzantine empire, when the monastery, owing to its proximity to the palace of blachernae, was assigned to the patriarch veccus as the house in which to lodge on the occasion of his audiences with michael palaeologus, on tuesdays, to present petitions for the exercise of imperial generosity or justice. but the decay into which the establishment had fallen could not be long ignored, and a wealthy, talented, and influential citizen who resided in the neighbourhood, theodore metochites,[528] decided to restore the edifice as a monument of the artistic revival of his own day. theodore metochites was one of the most remarkable men of his day. his tall, large, well-proportioned figure, his bright countenance, commanded attention wherever he appeared. he was, moreover, a great student of ancient greek literature and of the literature of later times, and although never a master of style, became an author and attempted verse. he was much interested in astronomy, and one of his pupils, the historian nicephorus gregoras, recognised the true length of the year and proposed the reform of the calendar centuries before pope gregory. theodore's memory was so retentive that he could converse on any topic with which he was familiar, as if reading from a book, and there was scarcely a subject on which he was not able to speak with the authority of an expert. he seemed a living library, 'walking encyclopaedia.' in fact, he belonged to the class of brilliant greek scholars who might have regenerated the east had not the unfortunate political situation of their country driven them to italy to herald and promote the renaissance in western europe. theodore metochites was, moreover, a politician. he took an active part in the administration of affairs during the reign of andronicus ii., holding the office of grand logothetes of the treasury; and such was his devotion to politics, that when acting as a statesman it might be forgotten that he was a scholar. the unhappy strife between andronicus ii. and andronicus iii. caused theodore metochites the profoundest anxiety, and it was not his fault if the feud between the grandfather and the grandson refused to be healed. his efforts to bring that disgraceful and disastrous quarrel to an end involved great self-sacrifice and wrecked his career. for the counsels he addressed to andronicus iii. gave mortal offence, and when the young emperor entered the capital and took up his quarters in the palace of the porphyrogenitus (tekfour serai), his troops sacked and demolished theodore's mansion in that vicinity. the beautiful marbles which adorned the residence were sent as an imperial present to a scythian prince, while the fallen statesman was banished to didymotica for two years. upon his return from exile theodore found a shelter in the monastery which he had restored in his prosperous days. but there also, for some two years longer, the cup of sorrow was pressed to his lips. a malady from which he suffered caused him excruciating pain; his sons were implicated in a political plot and thrown into prison; andronicus ii., between whom and himself all communication had been forbidden, died; and so the worn-out man assumed the habit of a monk, and lay down to die on the 13th of march 1331, a month after his imperial friend. his one consolation was the beautiful church he bequeathed to succeeding generations for the worship of god. to the renovation of the church theodore metochites devoted himself heart and soul, and spent money for that object on a lavish scale. as the central portion of the building was comparatively well preserved,[529] it was to the outer part of the edifice that he directed his chief attention--the two narthexes and the parecclesion. these were to a large extent rebuilt and decorated with the marbles and mosaics, which after six centuries, and notwithstanding the neglect and injuries they have suffered during the greater part of that period, still excite the admiration they awakened when fresh from the artist's hand. the connection of theodore metochites with this splendid work is immortalised not only by historians of his day and by himself,[530] but also by the mosaic which surmounts the main entrance to the church from the inner narthex. there the restorer of the building, arrayed in his official robes, and on bended knees, holds a model of the church in his hands and offers it to the saviour seated on a throne. beside the kneeling figure is the legend, [greek: ho ktêtôr logothetês tou gennikou theodôros ho metochitês], 'the builder, logothetes of the treasury, theodore the metochites' (plate xci.). the restoration of the church must have been completed before the year 1321, for in that year nicephorus gregoras[531] describes it as then recently ([greek: arti]) renovated, and in use for the celebration of divine service. how long before 1321 the work of repair precisely commenced cannot be determined, but it was in process as early as 1303, for that date is inscribed in arabic numerals on the mosaic depicting the miracle at cana, which stands to the right of the figure of christ over the door leading from the outer to the inner narthex. but to have reached the stage at which mosaics could be applied the work of restoration must have been commenced sometime before 1303. [illustration: plate lxxxiv. s. saviour in the chora. capital in the outer narthex.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. capital in the outer narthex. _to face page 300._] one of the most distinguished members of the chora was the historian nicephorus gregoras, who learned to know the monastery through his friendship with theodore metochites. the two men met first when nicephorus came from his native town heraclea on the black sea to constantinople, a youth eager to acquire the knowledge that flourished in the capital. being specially interested in the science of astronomy, the student placed himself under the instruction of theodore, then the greatest authority on the subject, and won the esteem and confidence of his master to a degree that ripened into the warmest friendship and the most unreserved intellectual intercourse. in his turn, nicephorus gregoras became the instructor of the children of the grand logothetes, and was treated as a member of the family. he was also associated with the restoration of the chora, attending particularly to the collection of the costly materials required for the embellishment of the church. thus the monastery became his home from youth to old age, and after theodore's death was entrusted to his care.[532] during the fierce controversy which raged around the question whether the light beheld at the transfiguration formed part of the divine essence, and could be seen again after prolonged fasting and gazing upon one's navel, as the monks of mount athos and their supporters maintained, nicephorus gregoras, who rejected that idea, retired from public life to defend what he deemed the cause of truth more effectively. but to contend with a master of legions is ever an unequal struggle. the emperor john cantacuzene, taking the side of the monks, condemned their opponent to silence in the chora, and there for some three years nicephorus gregoras discovered how scenes of happiness can be turned into a veritable hell by imperial disfavour and theological odium. notwithstanding his age, his physical infirmities, his services to the monastery, his intellectual eminence, he was treated by the fraternity in a manner so inhuman that he would have preferred to be exposed on the mountains to wild beasts. he was obliged to fetch water for himself from the monastery well, and when, on one occasion, he was laid up for several days by an injury to his foot, none of the brothers ever thought of bringing him water. in winter he was allowed no fire, and he had often to wait till the frozen water in his cell was melted by the sun before he could wash or drink. the vision of the light of the transfiguration did not transfigure the character of its beholders. during this trying period of his life one ray of comfort wandered into the cell of the persecuted man. on the 13th december 1351, in the dead of night, while the precincts of the monastery were crowded with worshippers attending the vigil of the festival of the conception of the theotokos, a strange figure climbed into the prisoner's room through an open window. it proved to be an old friend and former pupil named agathangelus, who had not been seen for ten years owing to his absence from the city. taking advantage of the darkness and of the absorption of the monks in the services of the festival, he had made this attempt to visit his revered master. eagerly and hurriedly, for the time at their command was short, the two friends recounted the story of their lives while separated. rapidly agathangelus sketched the course of affairs in state and church since the seclusion of nicephorus gregoras; and the brief visit ended and seemed a dream. but the devoted disciple was not satisfied with a single interview. six months later he contrived to see his master again, and, encouraged by success, saw him again three times, though at long intervals, during the three years that nicephorus gregoras was detained in the chora. one great object of these visits was to keep the prisoner informed of events in the world beyond the walls of his cell, and on the basis of the information thus supplied nicephorus gregoras wrote part of his important history. when at length, in 1354, john cantucuzene was driven from the throne, and john palaeologus reigned in his stead, nicephorus was liberated,[533] and to the last defended the opinions for which he had suffered. another name associated with the chora at this time is that of michael tornikes, grand constable in the reign of andronicus ii. he was related, on his mother's side, to the emperor, and stood in high favour at court not only on account of that kinship, but because of the talents, character, and administrative ability which he displayed. he was, moreover, a friend of theodore metochites, and his political supporter in the efforts made to end the strife between andronicus ii. and andronicus iii.[534] upon his death, tornikes was buried in the parecclesion of the chora, and the epitaph composed in his honour has kept its place there to this day (plate xcii.). in 1342, sabbas, a monk of the monastery of vatopedi, who came to constantinople as a member of a deputation from mount athos to reconcile the regent anna of savoy with cantacuzene, was confined in the chora on the failure of that mission.[535] in view of its proximity to the landward walls, the chora acquired great importance during the fatal siege of 1453. for the inhabitants of the beleagured capital placed their hope for deliverance more upon the saints they worshipped than upon their own prowess; the spiritual host enshrined in their churches was deemed mightier than the warriors who manned the towers of the fortifications. the sanctuaries beside the walls constituted the strongest bulwarks from which the 'god protected city' was to be defended, not with earthly, but with heavenly weapons. the eikon of the theotokos hodegetria was, therefore, taken to the chora to guard the post of danger. it represented the theotokos as the leader of god's people in war, and around it gathered memories of wonderful deliverances and glorious triumphs, making it seem the banner of wingless victory. when the saracens besieged the city the eikon was carried round the fortifications, and the enemy had fled. it led zimisces in his victorious campaign against the russians; it was borne round the fortifications when branas assailed the capital in the reign of isaac angelus, and the foe disappeared; and when constantinople was recovered from the latins, michael palaeologus only expressed the general sentiment in placing the eikon on a triumphal car, and causing it to enter the city before him, while he humbly followed on foot as far as the studion. but the glory of the days of old had departed, and no sooner did the troops of sultan mehemed force the gate of charisius (edirné kapoussi) than they made for the chora, and cut the image to pieces. the church of s. saviour in the chora was the first christian sanctuary to fall into the hands of the moslem masters of constantinople. the building was converted into a mosque by ali atik pasha, grand vizier, between 1495 and 1511, in the reign of bajazet ii. gyllius visited the church in 1580, and expatiates upon the beauty of its marble revetment, but makes no reference to its mosaics and frescoes.[536] this, some authorities think, proves that these decorations were then concealed from view, because objectionable in a place consecrated to moslem worship. but the silence of the traveller may be due to the brevity of his description of the church. there is evidence that the building has suffered much since the turkish conquest from earthquake and from fire, but the precise dates of these disasters cannot be accurately determined. the mosque disappeared from general view until 1860, when it was discovered by a greek architect, the late pelopidas d. kouppas. mr. carlton cumberbatch, then the british consul at constantinople, was informed of the fact and spread the news of the fortunate find. the building was in a pitiful condition. the principal dome and the dome of the diaconicon had fallen in; the walls and vaults were cracked in many places and black with smoke; wind, and rain, and snow had long had free course to do what mischief they pleased. happily there still remained too much beauty to be ignored, and the government was persuaded to take the work of restoration in hand. the building now takes rank with the most interesting sights of the capital, presenting one of the finest embodiments of the ideal which inspired byzantine art. [illustration: plate lxxxv. s. saviour in the chora. the interior, looking north-west.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. the outer narthex, looking south. _to face page 304._] _architectural features_ as the history of the church prepares us to expect, the building presents a very irregular plan. the central area is a short-armed greek cross surmounted by a dome, and terminating to the east in a large apse flanked by side chapels now disconnected from it. to the west are two narthexes, on the south a parecclesion, and on the north a gallery in two stories. [illustration: fig. 99.] as the central part of the church is the oldest and of the greatest interest, the description will begin with the interior, and deal afterwards with the later exterior accretions. only two doors lead from the inner narthex to the church, one of them in the centre of the axis and the other to the north. the absence of the corresponding and customary third door, for which there is space on the south side, should be noticed, as it throws light on the original plan of the building. the doors are beautifully treated with marble mouldings and panelled ingoes; the door to the north recalls the sculptured door in the south gallery of s. sophia, but, unfortunately, the carved work of the panels has been destroyed. above the central door, on the interior, is a porphyry cornice carved with peacocks drinking at fountains (plate lxxxvii.). large portions of the beautiful marble revetment on the walls of the church happily remain intact, and nowhere else in constantinople, except in s. sophia, can this splendid method of colour decoration be studied to greater advantage. slabs of various marbles have been split and placed on the walls so as to form patterns in the veining. the lower part is designed as a dado in proconessian striped marble, with upright posts of dark red at the angles and at intervals on the longer stretches of wall, and rests on a moulded marble base. above the dado are two bands, red and green, separated from the dado and from each other by white fillets. the upper part is filled in with large panels, especially fine slabs of brown, green, or purple having been selected to form the centre panels. the plainer slabs of the side panels are framed in red or green borders, and outlined with fillets of white marble either plain or carved with the 'bead and reel.' the arches have radiating voussoirs, and the arch spandrils and the frieze under the cornice are inlaid with scroll and geometrical designs in black, white, and coloured marbles. the cornice is of grey marble with a 'cyma recta' section, and is carved with an upright leaf.[537] on the eastern walls of the north and south cross arms, and flanking the apse, eikon frames similar to those in the diaconissa (p. 186) are inserted. the northern frame encloses a mosaic figure of christ holding in his hands an open book, on which are the words, 'come unto me all ye who labour and are heavy laden.'[538] in the corresponding frame to the south is the figure of the virgin, and, above it, an arch of overhanging acanthus leaves enclosed within a square frame with half figures of angels in the spandrils. the arch encloses a medallion bust, the head of which is defaced, but which represented the saviour, as is proved by the indication of a cross on the aureola. the spaces at the sides of the medallion are filled in with a pierced scroll showing a dark slab of porphyry behind it, making a very beautiful arrangement. these frames are distant from the eikonostasis, which stretched across the front of the bema arch, nearer to the apse. on the south side are two doors leading to the parecclesion, and on the north side above the cornice is a small window from the north gallery. the dome rests on a ribbed drum of sixteen concave segments, and is pierced by eight windows corresponding to the octagonal form of the exterior. the original crown has fallen and been replaced by the present plain turkish dome. the prothesis and the diaconicon are represented by chapels to north and south of the apse. as already stated, they do not now communicate with the bema, although the position of the old passages between them and the bema is marked by niches in the marble revetment. from the fact that the byzantine marble work is continued across these passages it is evident that the chapels were cut off from the apse in byzantine days. the north chapel is covered by a drum dome of eight concave sections, and is entered from the lower story of the gallery on the north side of the church. it should be noticed that the chapel is not placed axially to this gallery. the south chapel is covered by a plain drum dome, and is now entered from the parecclesion, evidently as the result of the alterations made when the parecclesion was added. the exterior is very simply treated. the side apses show three sides of an octagon. the central apse has five sides of a very flat polygon, and is decorated with hollow niches on each side of a large triple window. it was at one time supported by a large double flying buttress, but the lower arch has fallen in. as the buttress does not bond with the wall it was evidently a later addition. the inner narthex is entered from the outer narthex by a door to the west. it is with its resplendent marble revetment and brilliant mosaics a singularly perfect and beautiful piece of work, one of the finest gems of byzantine art. it is divided into four bays, and is not symmetrically placed to the church. the door stands opposite to the large door of the church and is in the central axis of the building. the bay which it occupies and that immediately to the north are covered by dome vaults resting on strong transverse arches and shallow segmental wall arches.[539] the northern end bay is covered with a drum dome of sixteen hollow segments pierced by eight windows. the bay to the south of the door is considerably larger than the other bays, and is covered by a dome similar in character to that over the northern end bay but of greater diameter. at the south end of the narthex a small door leads to the return bay of the outer narthex in front of the parecclesion. the double-storied annex or gallery on the north of the building is entered by a door in the north bay of the inner narthex. the lower story is covered by a barrel vault with strong transverse arches at intervals. its door to the outside at the west end is now built up. at the east end a door, unsymmetrically placed, leads to the small chapel which was originally the prothesis. this story of the gallery seems never to have had windows. the upper story, reached by a stone stair at the west end in the thickness of the external wall, is paved in red tiles, covered with a barrel vault, and lighted by two small windows in the north wall and one at the east end. these windows still show grooves and bolt holes for casement windows or shutters opening inwards in two leaves (figs. 19, 100). in the south wall is the little window overlooking the church. [illustration: plate lxxxvi. s. saviour in the chora. eikon frame on the south-eastern pier.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. the interior, looking east. _to face page 308._] the outer narthex has a single door to the exterior, placed on the central axial line, and is planned symmetrically. the central bay is larger than the others, and is covered by a dome vault resting on shallow wall arches. on each side are two bays covered by similar dome vaults, but as the bays are oblong, the wall arches are brought forward strongly so as to give a form more approaching the square as a base for the dome. the transverse arches are strongly pronounced and have wooden tie beams. at the south end two bays are returned to form an entrance to the parecclesion. in these the transverse arches are even more strongly marked and rest on marble columns set against shallow pilasters. the cubical capitals are of white marble and very beautifully carved with figures of angels and acanthus wreaths. any marble revetment which may once have covered the walls has disappeared, but mosaics depicting scenes in the saviour's life still decorate the vaulting and the lunettes of the arches, whilst figures of saints appear upon the soffits. the mosaics are damaged and have lost some of their brilliancy; the background is of gold, and the mosaic cubes are small, averaging about 1/8 to 3/16 of an inch. [illustration: fig. 100.] the parecclesion is entered from the return bays of the outer narthex through a triple arcade, now partly built up. the capitals of the columns are byzantine corinthian, and retain sufficient traces of their former decoration in dark blue, gold, and red to give some idea of the effect of colour on marble in byzantine churches. the parecclesion is in two bays. the western bay is covered by a high twelve-sided drum dome, with windows in each side separated by flat ribs. in the compartments are figures of the archangels in tempera, with the legend, 'holy, holy, holy, is the lord god.' the eastern bay is covered by a dome vault, and terminates in an apse semicircular within and lighted by a triple window. it has neither prothesis nor diaconicon of its own, but communicates with the original diaconicon of the main church. the three transverse arches in the bay are tied with wooden tie beams carved with arabesques and retaining traces of gilding. on the north and south walls of the western bay are large arches enclosed in square frames and with finely carved archivolts. above the south arch is a slab inscribed with the epitaph to the memory of the celebrated general tornikes. there are no indications of an entrance under the arch. it may have covered a niche, now built up, intended to receive a tomb, possibly the tomb of the sebastocrator isaac. the archivolt of the arch in the north wall is formed of acanthus leaves turned over at the points; the spandrils are filled with the figures of the archangels michael and gabriel, bearing appropriate emblems, and above the crown of the arch is a small bust of christ. in both arches the carved work is exactly like that of the eikon frame in the south-eastern pier of the church, and closely resembles the work on the lintel of the eikon frames in the church of the diaconissa. both archivolts were originally coloured, the background blue, the carved ornament gilt. the use of figures in the decoration of the church is remarkable. they are in bold relief and executed freely, but shown only from the waist up. the windows, like those in the outer narthex, have a central arch between two semi-circles (fig. 63). [illustration: plate lxxxvii. s. saviour in the chora. interior cornice over main door of the church.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. archivolt on the north side of the parecclesion.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. window heads in the central apse. _to face page 310._] two passages, which cut through the north wall, lead from the parecclesion to the church. off the passage to the west is a small chamber whose use is not apparent. it may be simply a space left over when the chapel was added. higher up, in the thickness of the wall, about ten feet from the floor, and a little above the springing level of the vaulting in the parecclesion, is a long, narrow passage, lighted by a window at the east end, and covered by a small barrel vault, corbelled at the springing, on two courses of stone and three courses of brick laid horizontally, thus narrowing the space to a considerable degree. from this corbelling spring the vaulting courses, which are steeply inclined and run from both ends to the centre, where the resultant diamond-shaped opening is filled in with horizontal courses (fig. 48). on the north side of the passage is a broad opening roughly built up, but which seems originally to have communicated with the south cross arm. the opening is almost central to the cross-arm, and is directly above the doors leading from the church to the parecclesion. the exterior of the parecclesion and the outer narthex are treated with arcades in two orders of the usual type. on the piers of the arcades are semicircular shafts which in the parecclesion rise to the cornice, but on the west front stop at the springing course. here they may have supported the wooden roof of a cloister or porch. the apse of the parecclesion has five sides with angle shafts and niches, alternately flat and concave in three stories. the north wall is a fine example of simple masonry in stripes of brick and stone, and with small archings and zigzag patterns in the spandrils of the arches. below the parecclesion are two long narrow cisterns having their entrance on the outside of the apse.[540] _the original plan of the church_ (fig. 102). the greater part of the alterations made in the church date from byzantine times, and the marble coverings then placed upon the walls have effectually covered up any traces which might have given a clue to the original form of the building. in consequence any attempt at restoration must be of a very tentative character. it is evident that there has been a serious movement in the structure due to the weight of the dome and the thrust of the dome arches, for the walls below the dome are bent outwards in a very pronounced manner. it was in order to check this movement that the flying buttress was applied to the apse, and in all probability the enormous thickness of the walls surrounding the central cross is due to the same cause. had the walls originally been as thick as at present it is hard to imagine that movement could have taken place. the axial line from east to west, passing through the doors of both narthexes, divides the present building into two dissimilar parts. we know that the parecclesion is a later addition, and if it be removed and the plan of the north side repeated to the south the resulting plan bears a striking resemblance to s. sophia at salonica (fig. 101). the position of the prothesis and diaconicon in particular is identical in the two churches. some proof that this was the original form of the building is given by the small chamber in the wall thickness between the church and the parecclesion. for it corresponds to the angle of the south 'aisle,' and on its west wall is a vertical break in the masonry which may be the jamb of the old door to the narthex. this plan gives a narthex in five bays--the three centre ones low, the two outer covered by domes and leading to the 'aisles.' when the parecclesion was added, the south gallery and two bays of the inner narthex were swept away. the third door leading into the church was built up, and the present large domed bay added to the shortened narthex. [illustration: fig. 101.--s. sophia, salonica.] traces of the older structure remain in the wall between the church and the parecclesion. the space already described, which originally opened from the passage at the higher level to the south cross-arm, corresponds in width both to the window above and to the space occupied by the doors below. at s. sophia, salonica, the side-arms are filled in with arcades in two stories forming an aisle and gallery. this is the normal domed basilica construction. here, if we regard the floor of the upper passage (b on plan, p. 318) as the remains of the old gallery floor,--and no other view seems to account for its existence,--the internal elevation was in three stories, an aisle at the ground level, above it a gallery, and above that, in the arch tympanum, a triple window. such an arrangement is, so far as we know, unique in a small church, but it is the arrangement used in s. sophia, constantinople, and may well have been derived from that church. the opening is only about one-half of the space, leaving a broad pier at each side. in this it differs from s. sophia, salonica, but such side piers are present in s. sophia, constantinople. the diagrams show a restoration of the plan and internal bay based on these conclusions (figs. 102, 103). [illustration: fig. 102.--s. saviour in the chora (restored plan).] the gallery on the north side is an addition. the character of the brickwork and of the windows is later than the central church, but the lack of windows on the ground floor suggests that the 'aisle' was originally lighted from the body of the church. the vaulting gives no clue, nor are there traces of an opening in the wall between the 'aisle' and the church. the floor level is much higher than that of the passage 'b' (p. 318) on the opposite side, and seems to be a new level introduced when the addition was made and the wall thickened. [illustration: plate lxxxviii. s. saviour in the chora. east end of the parecclesion.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. capital at the entrance to the parecclesion. _to face page 314._] if these conclusions are correct the church was originally a domed basilica resembling s. sophia, salonica, in plan and s. sophia, constantinople, in elevation. the side dome arches had double arcades in two stories, and above them windows in the dome arches. there are at present no traces of a western gallery, but such may have existed below the present west windows. later in the history of the church came alterations, which included the ribbed domes and the gallery on the north side. the side aisles still communicated with the church and the lateral chapels with the bema. [illustration: fig. 103.--s. saviour in the chora (restored bay).] the filling up of the arcades, the thickening of the walls, the isolation of the lateral chapels, the removal of the southern aisle, the alteration of the narthex, the building of the parecclesion and outer narthex, and most of the decoration which forms the glory of the church, belong to the great work of restoration by theodore metochites early in the fourteenth century. the representation of the church in the mosaic panel above the large door to the church shows a building with a central dome, a narthex terminating in domed bays, and a window in the west dome arch. it seems to represent the church as the artist was accustomed to see it previous to the additions (fig. 115). plain cross plans, or cross plans with only one lateral gallery, are not unknown. the church of the archangels, sygé,[541] shows such a plan and is here reproduced for purposes of comparison. [illustration: plate lxxxix. s. saviour in the chora. the parecclesion, looking south-east.] [illustration: s. saviour in the chora. the parecclesion, looking west. _to face page 316._] [illustration: fig. 104.--church of the archangels at sygé.] [illustration: fig. 105.] [illustration: figs. 106 and 107.] [illustration: figs. 108 and 109.] [illustration: figs. 110, 111, 112, and 113.] [501] vol. i. p. 459. [502] synax., sept. 4, [greek: pistoi de tines eusebeis nyktos elthontes kai ta leipsana en akatiô embalontes eis to byzantion diakomizousi kai en tô boreiô merei exô teicheôn en trisi larnaxi katathentes, entha esti monê chôra eponomazomenê, doxan kai eucharistian tô theô anepempsan]. [503] _proceedings of the greek syllogos_ of c.p. vol. xxiv., 1896, supplement, p. 33. [504] vol. iii. p. 172. [505] p. 36. [506] paspates, p. 326. [507] synax., sept. 4. [508] banduri, iii. p. 54, [greek: chôrion ên ekeise exô tou byzantiou.] [509] de aed. p. 121, [greek: eklêthê de chôra dioti tôn byzantiôn chôrion ên ekei, katha kai hê tou stoudiou monê, exô tês poleôs hypêrchen.] [510] written in the second quarter of the ninth century. [511] supplement to vol. xxiv. of the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._ p. 23. cf. schmitt, p. 28. [512] in his great monograph on kahrié jamissi published by the russian institute of constantinople, 1906. [513] mansi, _sacrorum conciliorum collectio_, tomus viii. col. 906, col. 882, [greek: tou hagiou michaêl tôn charisiou: tês epiklên tôn charisiou]. [514] banduri, iii. p. 54; codinus. de aed. p. 121 [greek: hê chôra prôton men euktêrion ên, priskos ho eparchos kai gambros tou phôka tou tyrannou perioristheis ekei para tou idiou ektise tautên monên eis kallos kai megethos, apocharisamenos kai ktêmata polla]. [515] niceph. greg. iii. p. 459. [516] schmitt, p. 28. [517] theoph. pp. 554, 556; synax. _ad diem_; cedrenus, i. p. 784. [518] theoph. pp. 626-680; synax., may 12. [519] theoph. pp. 647-8. [520] _life of michael syncellus_, p. 31, in supplement to vol. xxiv. of the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of c.p._; cf. schmitt, p. 251. [521] _life of michael syncellus_, _ut supra_, pp. 30, 31. [522] see supplement to vol. xxiv. of the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of constantinople_, p. 33; cf. schmitt, pp. 257-8. [523] niceph. greg. iii. p. 459. [524] _ibid._ i. p. 459. [525] the manuscript was discovered in the seraglio library by professor t. uspenski, and has been photographically reproduced by the russian institute of constantinople. [526] the inscription has been injured. it now reads:- [symbol: cross.][greek: ho .. os tou psêlo .. tou ... sileôs ... ... xiou ... .. ou ...] see schmitt, pp. 38-39, who restores the inscription thus: [greek: ho hyios tou hypsêlotatou basileôs alexiou tou komnênou]. [527] see schmitt, pp. 39-40. [528] niceph. greg. i. p. 459. [529] niceph. greg. i. p. 459. [greek: houtos habrotera chrêsamenos dexia, plên tou mesaitatou neô panta kalôs epeskeuase], cf. ii. p. 1045. [530] _theodori metochitae carmina_, ed. treu. a 1004, _et passim_. [531] niceph. greg. i. p. 303 [greek: arti tou neourgein epepauto tên tês chôras monên, hopsos ho endon etynchane kosmos]. [532] niceph. greg. ii. pp. 1045-6. [533] niceph. greg. iii. p. 243. [534] cantacuzene, i. p. 54. [535] cantacuzene, ii. p. 209. [536] _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 4:--inter palatium constantini et portam urbis adrianopolitanam extat ædes in septimo (?) colle, quæ etsi jam tot secula sit intra urbem tamen etiamnum [greek: christos chôras] appellatur, ex eo, quod olim esset extra urbem. ex tribus partibus, ut mos est græcorum ædium sacrarum, porticu cingitur. parietes ejus intrinsecus vestiti crustis marmoris varii quadratis, ita inter se conjunctis ut distinguantur ab immo sursum versus modulis astragalorum, aliorum baccatorum, aliorum ter etiam sine baccis. supra quadratas crustas discurrunt tres fasciæ et tres velut astragali, quorum duo teretes, supremus quadratus velut regula. supra fasciam, denticuli; supra denticulos, folia corinthia. denique marmor sic mensulis distinguitur ut in commissuris eluceat labor corinthicus. sed is plenior apparet in æde sophiæ. [537] cf. description by gyllius, _de top. c.p._ iv. c. 4. [538] [greek: deute pros me pantes hoi kopiôntes kai pephortismenoi kagô]....--matt. xi. 28. [539] for the description of these vaults see p. 22. [540] schmitt (_op. cit._ pp. 92-94) maintains that the parecclesion was originally the refectory of the monastery. but a refectory there would occupy a very unusual position. nor do the frescoes on the walls of the parecclesion correspond to the decoration of the refectory with representations of flowers and of christ's miracles, as described by theodore metochites: ... [greek: kekosmêatai anthesi poikiloi i te poulychrouoisi te baphôn ... kai te diaperes apêgeatai mystêria thôymata christou]. [541] f. w. hasluck. bithynica, _b.s.a. annual xiii._, 1906-7. chapter xxiv the mosaics in s. saviour in the chora as stated already, the mosaics on the vaults and lunettes of the arches in the outer narthex of the church portray scenes from the life of christ, as recorded in the canonical and the apocryphal gospels, while on the faces and soffits of the arches are depicted the figures of saints 'who desired to look into these things.' scenes from the saviour's life are also portrayed in the two bays to the west of the parecclesion, and in the domes and southern bay of the inner narthex. inscriptions on the mosaics explain the subjects depicted. the scenes will be described according to the groups they form in the compartments of the narthex. [illustration: fig. 114.--plan of the narthexes of the church, indicating position of their mosaics.] [illustration: plate xc. (1) s. saviour in the chora. mosaic representing the miracle of water turned into wine. the date 6811 (a.d. 1303), in arabic numerals, is above the last figure on the right. _sebah and joaillier._ (2) s. saviour in the chora. mosaic representing the caressing of mary by her parents, and the blessing of mary by priests at a banquet. _to face page 322._] outer narthex _first bay (at the north end)._ 1. in the northern lunette.--the angel announcing to joseph, in a dream, the birth of jesus. to the right, journey of joseph and mary from nazareth to bethlehem. simon the son of joseph walks ahead, carrying a bundle. in the background, meeting of mary and elizabeth. 2. in the eastern lunette.--the registration of joseph and mary at bethlehem before cyrenius. (said to be unique in the east.[542]) on the arch over the eastern lunette.--busts (in medallions) of ss. mardarius, auxentius (only one letter of the name remains), ss. eustratius, orestes. 3. on the western lunette.--the holy family on the way to the first passover of jesus at jerusalem. on the arch over the western lunette.--the busts (in medallions) of ss. anempodistus, elpidephorus, akindynus, aphthonius, pegasius. 4. in the vault.--the scene has disappeared. possibly it represented jesus among the doctors in the temple. 5. on the soffit of the transverse arch, between the first and second bays.--to the east, s. andronicus; to the west, s. tarachus. _second bay_ 6. in the eastern lunette.--the birth of jesus. in the background, to left, the angel appearing to the shepherds; to right, the magi beholding the star shining over the manger in which lies the holy child, while an ox and an ass feed in it. in the centre, mary on a couch. in the foreground, to left, two women bathing the holy child; to the right, joseph seated on the ground and gazing at the holy child. on the arch above the eastern lunette.--the busts (in medallions) of ss. philemon, leukius, kallinikus, thyrsus, apollonius. 7. in the western lunette.--return of the holy family from egypt to nazareth. in the arch above the western lunette.--the busts (in medallions) of ss. engraphus (?), menas, hermogenes, laurus, florus, menas, victor, vikentius. 8. in the vault.--the baptism of jesus; the scenes in the temptation of jesus. 9. on the second transverse arch.--to the east, s. george; to the west, s. demetrius. _the third or central bay_ 10. in the eastern lunette, over the door leading to the inner narthex.--christ in the act of benediction. 11. in the western lunette.--the theotokos, in the attitude of prayer, with the holy child, in a nimbus, on her breast; the legend [greek: mr thy hê chôra tou achôretou] (the country of the infinite); on the right and left, an angel. 12. in the vault.--in the north-eastern corner, the miracle of water turned into wine. the date 1303, in arabic numerals, is on this mosaic. in the south-eastern corner, the miracle of the loaves. these mosaics, placed on either side of the figure of christ, are emblems of his character as the giver of life. in the north-western corner.--the sacrifice of a white bullock. in the south-eastern corner.--the second miracle of the loaves. 13. on the third transverse arch.--two saints, not named. _the fourth bay_ 14. in the eastern lunette.--to the left, the magi, on horseback, guided by a star, on their way to jerusalem; to the right, the magi before herod. on the arch above.--the busts (in medallions) of ss. abibus, ghourias, samonas. 15. in the western lunette.--elizabeth fleeing with her child john from a soldier who pursues her with a drawn sword in his hand. the scenes in the vault have disappeared. 16. on the fourth transverse arch.--two saints, not named. _the fifth bay_ 17. in the eastern lunette.--herod inquiring of the priests where the christ should be born. the busts of three saints on the arch above have disappeared. 18. in the western lunette.--mothers at bethlehem seated on the ground, and mourning the death of their infant children. the mosaics in other parts of this bay have disappeared. _the outer bay fronting the parecclesion_ in the eastern pendentive.--to the left (19) the healing of a paralytic; to the right (20) the healing of the man sick of the dropsy. 21. in the western pendentive.--to the left, the healing of another paralytic; to the right, christ with the samaritan woman at the well of sychar; in the lunette, the massacre of the innocents at bethlehem. 22. in the southern lunette.--to the left, herod orders the massacre of the innocents at bethlehem; to the right, the massacre of the innocents. the other mosaics in this bay have disappeared. _the inner bay fronting the parecclesion_ 23. in the vault.--in the south-western corner. uncertain. possibly, the fall of the idols in egypt at the presence of the holy child; to the south of that scene, zacchaeus on the sycamore tree. inner narthex _first bay (at the south end of the narthex)_ 24. on the soffit of the first transverse arch.--to the east, the healing of the man with a withered arm; to the west, the healing of a leper. _south dome_ 25. in the crown.--christ the pantokrator. in the flutings, thirty-nine figures, arranged in two tiers, representing the ancestors of christ from adam to esrom, japhet, and the eleven sons of jacob not in the line of ancestry. 26. on the south-eastern pendentive.--the healing of the woman with a bloody issue. 27. on the north-eastern pendentive.--the healing of peter's mother-in-law. 28. on the south-western pendentive.--the healing of a deaf and dumb man. 29. on the north-western pendentive.--the healing of two blind men at jericho. 30. on the eastern wall below the dome, colossal figures of mary and christ, technically named the deësis. 31. on the opposite wall.--christ healing divers diseases. the mosaics in the three other bays of this narthex depict scenes in the life of mary as described in the apocryphal protoevangelium of s. james and other apocryphal gospels.[543] _first bay (at northern end).--the north dome_ 32. in the centre.--the theotokos; in the flutings, twenty-seven figures arranged in two tiers representing sixteen royal ancestors of christ, from david to salathiel, and melchisedec, ananias, azarias, misael, daniel, joshua, moses, aaron, ur, samuel, job. 33. in the north-eastern pendentive.--the scene has disappeared. 34. in the south-eastern pendentive.--s. joachim (mary's father) with his sheep in the desert, praying and mourning that his offerings have been rejected because he was childless. 35. in the north-western pendentive.--the high priest judging mary. 36. in the south-western pendentive.--the annunciation to mary. 37. in the eastern lunette below the dome.--the annunciation to s. anna, the mother of mary. 38. on the soffit of the transverse arch between the first and second bays.--to the east, the meeting of s. anna and s. joachim; to the west, joseph taking leave of mary before his home, and proceeding to his work in another part of the country, accompanied by a servant. _second bay_ 39. in the eastern lunette.--the birth of mary. 40. in the western lunette.--joseph receiving the rod which marks him the successful suitor for mary's hand, and taking her as his bride-elect. 41. in the vault.--to the east, mary held in the arms of s. joachim, receiving the blessing of three priests seated at a banquet; to the west, the child mary caressed by her parents. this scene shows much feeling. 42. on the soffit of the transverse arch.--to the east, mary taking her first seven steps [greek: hê heptabêmatizousa]; to the west, the high priest praying before the rods, one of which, by blossoming, will designate the future husband of mary. 43. on the eastern wall, to the north of the main entrance into the church.--the apostle peter with the keys in his hand. _the third bay_ 44. in the lunette over the main entrance to the church.--theodore metochites on his knees offering the church to christ seated on a throne. the legend [greek: ho ktêtôr logothetês tou gennikou theodôros ho metochitês].[544] [illustration: plate xci. _sebah and joaillier._ (1) s. saviour in the chora. mosaic representing the registration of joseph and mary at bethlehem. _sebah and joaillier._ (2) s. saviour in the chora. mosaic representing theodore metochites offering the church to christ. _to face page 326._] 45. in the western lunette.--mary receiving purple and scarlet wool to weave in the veil of the temple. 46. in the vault.--on the east, mary admitted to the holy of holies when three years of age, lest she should go back to the world; on the west, the procession of maidens escorting mary to the temple. 47. the third transverse arch.--to the east, mary in the temple receiving bread from the archangel gabriel; to the west, mary in the temple receiving instruction. 48. on the eastern wall, to the south side of the main entrance to the church.--the apostle paul. [illustration: fig. 115.--model of the church of s. saviour in the chora.] the scenes represented on these mosaics are not peculiar to this church, but are a selection from cycles of subjects which from the eleventh century became favourite themes for pictorial treatment on the walls of important churches in the byzantine world. several of these scenes are found portrayed also at daphni, mistra, s. sophia at kiev, in the churches of mt. athos, on diptychs and manuscripts,[545] as well as in the chapel of the arena at padua. the cycle of subjects taken from the life of mary was developed mainly in syria, and schmitt[546] goes so far as to maintain that the mosaics of the chora are copies of syrian mosaics executed by a syrian artist, when the church was restored in the ninth century by michael syncellus, who, it will be remembered, came from syria. kondakoff assigns most of the mosaics to the comnenian restoration of the church by maria ducaena in the eleventh or twelfth century. one of them at least, the deësis, has survived; and there may be others of that period, for, as that mosaic proves, the narthex of the church was decorated when the church was restored by that benefactress of the chora. but the testimony of nicephorus gregoras,[547] of theodore metochites,[548] and the date marked on the scene representing the miracle of the wine at cana, on the right of the figure of christ over the door leading from the outer to the inner narthex, prove these mosaics to be as a whole the production of the fourteenth century. and this conclusion is confirmed by their unlikeness to mosaic work in the twelfth century, and by their affinity to other work of the same character done in the fourteenth century.[549] in fact, the mosaics in the chora represent a remarkable revival in the history of byzantine art. they are characterised by a comparative freedom from tradition, by closer approximation to reality and nature, by a charm and a sympathetic quality, and by a scheme of colour that indicate the coming of a new age and spirit. curiously enough, they are contemporary with the frescoes of giotto at padua (1303-1306). but whatever points of similarity may be detected between them and the work of the italian artist, or between them and the italian school before giotto, should be explained as due to a common stock of traditions and to the simultaneous awakening of a new intellectual and artistic life in the east and the west, rather than to any direct influence of one school of art upon another. the mosaics of the chora are thoroughly byzantine.[550] the frescoes in the parecclesion:-1. round the apse: six fathers of the church (only one figure remains, and that badly damaged. no names are inscribed). 2. in the vault of the apse: a full-length figure of christ in a vesica dotted with stars. on either side are groups of figures. 3. in the crown of the apse-arch: an angel in a medallion. 4. in the northern wall, next the apse: christ with two attendants; in the background a walled city. the eastern bay. on the northern wall: 5. above the arched recess: two medallion heads of ss. sergius and bacchus. 6. portions of the figure of a warrior. 7. in the arch above nos. 5 and 6: the gate of paradise. 8. in the centre, one of the cherubims on a pillar. on the left hand, a multitude, painted on black background outside paradise; on the right, paradise, a garden full of trees on a white background. here also are john the baptist and a figure, probably the virgin and child, on a throne, attended by two angels. [illustration: fig. 116.--plan of the parecclesion, indicating positions of its frescoes.] on the southern wall: 8. a portion of the figure of an armed angel. above no. 8 and at the side of the window: 9. two men carrying a bier or platform. in front of them a third person giving directions. 10. in the arched recess: full-length figures of andronicus ii. and his family. in the soffit of the arch, the head of christ in a medallion, with rays issuing from behind the aureola. 11. and 12. in the spandrils above the recess: two heads in medallions. 13. in the dome vault: the last judgment. christ in judgment fills the centre; behind him are the twenty-four elders seated on a long throne; farther back is gathered the heavenly host. [illustration: plate xcii. s. saviour in the chora. archivolt on the south wall of the parecclesion, with the epitaph in honour of tornikes. _to face page 330._] 14. on the north-eastern pendentive: the virgin and child in a paradise, with trees on a white background. 15. on the south-eastern pendentive: the mouth of hell. 16. on the south pilaster of the dome: an armed angel. 17. above that angel, on the arch: a man bearing the seven-branched candlestick, and beside him another man bearing with both hands some object above his head, perhaps the table of shew bread. 18. on the northern pilaster: a warrior. 19. in the centre of the arch: the head of christ in a medallion. the western bay. 20. at the south-western corner where the wall is much damaged, a saint. 21. above no. 20, to the west of the window: christ appearing to his disciples. 22. to the east of the window, an indistinct scene, perhaps the entombment. 23. at the north-western corner: s. samona. 24. a saint, not named. 25. over the door two saints, one of whom holds a cross. 26. the northern archway: in the centre is the door to the narrow passage between the parecclesion and the church. to the left, jacob's ladder; to the right, moses at the burning bush. in the bush is a medallion of the virgin and child, and from the bush an angel addresses moses, who holds his veil in his hand. 27, 28, 29, 30. in the pendentives of the dome: the four evangelists sitting at desks. 31. the dome is divided into twelve segments by ribs, and is pierced by twelve windows. above each window is an angel holding a spear, and below him is the legend 'holy.' in the crown are the virgin and child in a medallion. 32. a saint holding a small cross; below, in the south wall, the archivolt with the epitaph to tornikes above it. 33. a warrior saint with his sword and shield. 34. above nos. 32 and 33 on the arch, a figure, clad in a white mantle and blue robe with a scroll in his hand, points to an angel, who holds his drawn sword in the right hand and the scabbard in the left hand, and seems to be attacking several persons in the right-hand corner. behind him is a walled and fortified city, probably jericho. 35. on the north wall: s. eutadius. 36. the adoration by the magi. 37, 38. on the west wall: the figures of two saints, not named. epitaph in honour of tornikes:- [greek: hosous an hathroizoi tis enthade krotous nekrous ho tapheis exelenxei tornikês, ho tris aristeus ê konstaulos megas, hôsper mimous, beltiste, pithêkous leon. hos, basilikôn apotechtheis haimatôn, 5 pareschen autois prosphyê kai ton tropon. poion gar ouk ên aretês eidos pherôn, hôs ho prepôn hekaston ezêtei chronos? boulêphoros d' oun, kai pro tês hêlikias kai dêmagôgos, kai kritês ên anchinous. 10 kai pros men echthrous taktikên epnei phloga, keraunos ôn aphyktos autois athroois, tê de stratia patrikôs epestatei, phrourôn ta koina, mê klapê to sympheron. kêdous de tychôn eugenous kai kosmiou 15 kai basilikon proslabôn authis genos kai lampron hypodeigma pareis ton bion, keitai monastês eutelês en osteois. hêlie kai gê kai teleutaioi krotoi. penthei de mikrou pan to rhômaiôn genos, 20 hoson per auton agnooun ou tynchanei. all' ô mone, zôn kai methistôn tas physeis, ei pou ti kai peprachen autô mê prepon lysin paraschôn tên eden klêron didou.] in line 7 the inscription reads *[greek: phcrôn]* instead of [greek: pherôn]; in line 23 *[greek: propon]* for [greek: prepon]. good friend! however many dead applauses (celebrities) one may collect here, the entombed tornikes, who was thrice a foremost man or grand constable, will put them to shame as a lion will put to shame mimicking apes. he who was by birth of royal blood, presented also a manner of life conformed to that descent. for what form of virtue did he not possess such as the fitting occasion demanded each? therefore he was a councillor before the usual age, and a popular leader and an acute judge, and upon enemies he breathed a strategic flame (such as military rules required), and was an irresistible thunderbolt upon their serried ranks. he presided over the army like a father, guarding the commonweal lest any advantage to it should be stolen. contracting a highly-born and seemly marriage connection, and securing thus again royal affinity,[551] and leaving his life as a splendid example, he lies a poor monk among bones! o sun, o earth, o final applauses! well-nigh the whole roman race laments him, as much of it as is not ignorant of him. but o only living one and transformer of natures, if perchance he did aught that was not fitting for him, granting him pardon, give him eden as his inheritance.[552] [542] diehl, _études byzantines: les mosaïques de kahrié djami_. [543] an english translation of the protoevangelium is found in the ante-nicene christian library, vol. xvi. [544] the remarkable head-dress he wears was given him as a special distinction by the emperor andronicus ii. palaeologus. the poet philes (ode 41 in the appendix to vol. ii. of his works, lines 117-19) says [greek: phorounta chrysên erythran tên kalyptran hên dôron autô synanechonti kratos anax ho lampros andronikos paresche]. [545] a work reproducing, under the pope's authority, the eighty-two miniatures illustrating the _life of the madonna_, which was composed by a monk james in the twelfth century (_cod. vatic. gr._ 1162), is announced (danesi, editore, roma, 1911), with a preface and descriptions of the miniatures by cosimo stornajolo. the miniatures are said to rival those of the greek codex 1028 in the national library in paris. [546] _op. cit._ pp. 134-41. [547] i. p. 303. [548] _carmina_ (ed. treu), a. 1004, 1039-1042; b. 322-334. [549] diehl, _études byzantines: les mosaïques de kahrié djami_. [550] see on the whole subject, c. diehl, in the gazette des beaux-arts, troisième période, tome 33, and in his _manuel d'art byzantin_, pp. 732-41; schmitt in his monograph on the chora; mühlmann, _archiv für christliche kunst_, 1886-87. [551] alludes to his marriage with a relative of the imperial family. [552] in the translation i have been assisted by sir w. m. ramsay, professor bury, and mr. e. m. antoniadi. the meaning of [greek: teleutaioi krotoi] is not clear. various interpretations have been suggested; to read [greek: brotoi], mortals, instead of [greek: krotoi], and to construe [greek: teleutaioi] adverbially, 'finally, o mortals!'; to understand a reference to the judgment day, 'o applauses given at the final judgment'; to take the phrase as equivalent to, 'o celebrities at (or to) the very end of time'; to understand it as signifying the eulogies actually given to the deceased by the poet. professor tendès, of athens, whom i thank for his courtesy in this connection, suggests that the meaning is similar to that of the phrase [greek: ta teleutaia] in the modern greek form of eulogy, [greek: ekame polla, alla ta teleutaia tou].... 'he did many things, but his last performances!' (surpassed all his previous deeds). here the meaning would therefore be, 'o grandest achievements that men praise!' chapter xxv the dating and the classification of the churches the dating of the constantinople churches is a problem of great difficulty, and, in the absence of documentary evidence, we must often be contented with very indefinite suggestions. many churches are known to have been founded at dates which are evidently earlier than the existing buildings, and have apparently been rebuilt at some later date of which the record has been lost. other churches are known to have been 'repaired,' and here the question of how far 'repair' means 'rebuilding' is sometimes insoluble. repair may mean simply a fresh coat of paint. the architectural characteristics afford a certain clue, and the following chronological scheme has been drawn up by their guidance:-the pre-justinian period is characterised by simple construction and detail of a late roman type. of this we have one example--the basilica of s. john of the studion, founded about 463. the existing building appears to be original. the justinian period commences with the beginning of the sixth century. it is characterised by the development of the drumless dome on pendentives. the plan is complicated, and the buildings are large in comparison with those of later date. to this period belong ss. sergius and bacchus (527 a.d.), the baptistery of s. sophia, and the 'great church' of s. sophia itself. s. andrew in krisei and s. saviour in the chora probably date from this period. the carved detail of the former closely resembles that of ss. sergius and bacchus, and the plan of the latter connects it with s. sophia, salonica (sixth century). the justinian period roughly includes the seventh century, and is followed by a long decline, marked by the great iconoclastic controversy which lasted almost until the middle of the ninth century. to this period belongs s. irene (740 a.d.). in plan it is a double-domed cross church. in the arrangement of the dome-arches and galleries it resembles s. theodosia, whilst in the presence of a western gallery over the narthex and in the number of columns in the 'nave arcade' it is like s. sophia. the accession of basil the macedonian (867 a.d.) marks the beginning of the second great period--the 'basilian renaissance.' we know that this was a period of great religious activity, and though we have, unfortunately, no known dates to guide us, the development of plan leads us to place a group of churches in the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries. these are s. mary pammakaristos, s. mary panachrantos, s. theodosia, s. mary diaconissa, and ss. peter and mark. they are all churches of considerable size; s. mary diaconissa and s. theodosia being indeed large. they are characterised by the use of the ambulatory and domed cross plans. the carving is coarse and the capitals are of the clumsy byzantine corinthian type. the dome is raised on a high drum in s. mary pammakaristos and s. mary panachrantos, though this may be a later addition. the domes of the other three churches seem to be turkish. s. mary pammakaristos and the south church in s. mary panachrantos are identical in plan with s. andrew in krisei, and it would be possible to date them earlier had we any evidence whatsoever. unfortunately both have been very much altered. s. theodosia, s. mary diaconissa, and ss. peter and mark, taken in this order, form a series showing the gradual disappearance of the galleries and the evolution of the domed cross church into the 'four columned' church of the next period. the myrelaion (919-945), if the present church is of that date, is an unusually early example of this four-columned type. it is generally considered that this plan type dates at the earliest from the eleventh century. there is, however, no reason to believe that the church was rebuilt later; it is a perfectly normal example of its class, and nowhere is an early example more probable than in constantinople. the myrelaion may accordingly be taken as marking the commencement of the late byzantine period in constantinople. the churches are now smaller; the gynecaeum, where present, is placed over the narthex; the use of patterning in the brickwork of the exterior, which occurs in some of the basilian churches (_e.g._ the cornice of s. theodosia), now becomes important, and alternate coursing in brick and stone is used with great effect. from this time onwards narthexes were frequently added to the existing churches. s. saviour pantokrator (1118-1143 a.d.) is the largest late church in constantinople, and is an unusually large church of its type. s. saviour pantepoptes (1081-1118), s. theodore, and s. john in trullo, belong to the same class. the last, with its circular dome and apse, is probably the latest of the three. s. thekla (1057-1059) and bogdan serai are examples of hall churches of the same period. the monastery of manuel was founded in 829-842 a.d., but the building believed to be the refectory is probably much later. as part of the monastery it might, of course, have been built at any date subsequent to the foundation of the house. the architecture of the sanjakdar does not correspond to the date of the foundation of the monastery of the gastria in the ninth century. the building is certainly of late date, subsequent to the eleventh century. of the balaban mesjedi it is impossible to say anything. it is the remnant of some byzantine structure. from 1204 to 1261, during the latin empire, we need not look for much building in the greek church. soon after the fall of that empire comes the erection of s. mary of the mongols (1261-1282) and monastir jamissi (1282-1328). in both cases the architectural character is what we should expect. following on this we have, in the fourteenth century, the alterations made in s. saviour in the chora (_c._ 1300), and the parecclesion of the pammakaristos (_c._ 1315). this was the last effort of pure byzantine architecture in constantinople. during the hundred years preceding the turkish conquest in 1453 the gradually increasing pressure from the east put a stop to all architectural schemes; the craftsmen and artists fled to italy, and there took their part in the great revival known as 'the renaissance.' suggested chronological table century. v. s. john of the studion, 463. vi. ss. sergius and bacchus, 527-36. s. sophia, 532-37. s. saviour in the chora (the justinian foundation). s. andrew in krisei. viii. s. irene, 740. s. mary panachrantos (south church); possibly earlier. s. mary pammakaristos; possibly earlier. ix. s. theodosia. s. mary diaconissa. ss. peter and mark. x. the myrelaion. s. mary panachrantos (south church). xi. s. thekla. s. saviour in the chora (restoration in the reign of alexius i. comnenus). s. saviour pantepoptes. s. saviour pantokrator. xii. s. theodore. s. john in trullo. refectory of the monastery of manuel? bogdan serai? xiii. s. mary of the mongols. monastir jamissi. xiv. s. saviour in the chora, 1306. final restoration by theodore metochites. parecclesion of the church of s. mary pammakaristos, _c._ 1315. sanjakdar mesjedi (gastria)? balaban mesjedi? classification of the churches according to their type _basilica._--s. john of the studion. _octagon._--ss. sergius and bacchus. _domed basilica._--s. saviour in the chora. _ambulatory._--s. andrew in krisei; s. mary panachrantos (south church); s. mary pammakaristos. _domed cross church._--s. irene; s. theodosia; s. mary diaconissa; ss. peter and mark. _four column church._--myrelaion; s. saviour pantepoptes; s. saviour pantokrator; s. john in trullo; s. mary panachrantos (north church); parecclesion of s. mary pammakaristos. _foiled plan._--s. mary of the mongols. _halls._--bogdan serai; central church of the pantokrator; monastir mesjedi; refectory of the monastery of manuel; parecclesion of s. saviour in the chora; s. thekla. _irregular._--sanjakdar mesjedi; balaban mesjedi. books consulted in the preparation of this work ante-nicene christian library. anthologia graeca epigrammatum, stadt-mueller, 1894. antoniadi, e. m. [greek: ekphrasis tês hagias sophias]. banduri, anselmi. imperium orientale, sive antiquitates constantinopolitanae. paris, 1711. baronius. annales ecclesiastici. luccae, 1741. belin, m. a. histoire de la latinité de constantinople. 2me édition. bell, miss lothian. notes on a journey through cilicia and lycaonia. bondelmontius. librum insularum archipelagi. brockhaus. die kunst in den athosklöstern. leipzig, 1891. brunn, ph. constantinople, ses sanctuaires et ses réliques au commencement du xv siècle. odessa, 1883. butler. architecture and other arts, ii. syria. new york, 1903. chevalier, j. b. voyage de la propontide et du pont-euxin. paris, 1800. choisy. l'art de bâtir chez les byzantins. paris, 1883. choiseul-gouffier. voyage pittoresque en grèce. clavijo, ruy gonzalez de. vida de gran tamorlan y itinerario. madrid, 1782. constantius, patriarch. [greek: konstantinias palaia te kai neôtera], ancient and modern constantinople, translation by j. p. brown. london, 1868; [greek: syngraphai hai elassones. kônstantinoupolis], 1866. corpus scriptorum historiae byzantinae. bonn. crusius, m. turcograecia. dehio und bezold. die kirchliche baukunst des abendlandes. dethier, ph. a. siège de constantinople. didron. christian iconography (translation from the french). london, 1910. diehl, c. manuel d'art byzantin; figures byzantines. du cange, c. historia byzantina, pars ii. constantinopolis christiana. paris, 1680.[poss. typo for 1860?] dürm. handbuch. eastern palestine memoirs. ebersolt. le grand palais de constantinople. fergusson, james. history of ancient and mediaeval architecture. finlay, g. history of the byzantine empire. freshfield, edwin. archaeologia. gardner, miss alice. theodore of studium. gerlach. tagebuch der gesandtshaft an die ottomanische pforte durch david ungnad, 1573-78. goodyear, w. h. catalogue of an exhibition of architectural refinements. edinburgh, 1905. gyllius, p. de constantinopoleos topographia. elzevir ed. 1632. " de bosporo thracio. elzevir ed. 1632. hasluck, f. w. bithynica. henderson, a. e. builder, january 1906. kanitz. serbiens byzantinische monumente. khitrovo, madame de. itinéraires russes (translation from russian). labarte, jules. le palais impérial de constantinople. lampakis, professor. les antiquités chrétiennes de la grèce. athens, 1902. lenoir. architecture monastique au moyen âge. lethaby. mediaeval art. lethaby and swainson. sancta sophia. leunclavius. pandectes historiae turcicae. (migne, vol. clix.) mansi. sacrorum conciliorum collectio. marin, abbé. les moines de constantinople. migne. patrologia graeca. miklosich et müller. acta et diplomata graeca. vienna, 1865. millingen, a. van. byzantine constantinople. mordtmann. esquisse topographique de constantinople. mühlmann. archiv für christliche kunst, 1886-87. muralt, édouard de. essai de chronographie byzantine. geneva, 1873. notitia dignitatum. ed. seeck. pargoire, père j. les mamas de constantinople. parker. glossary of architecture. paspates, a. [greek: meletai byzantinai]. " the great palace. translation from the greek by mr. metcalfe. philes. carmina. pulgher, d. les églises byzantines de constantinople. vienna, 1878. ramsay, sir william, and miss lothian bell. the thousand and one churches. riant, conte de. exuviae sacrae. rivoira, t. g. lombardic architecture. (translation from italian.) london, 1910. rott, h. kleinasiatische denkmäler. leipzig, 1908. salzenberg. altchristliche baudenkmäler constantinopels. scarlatus byzantius. [greek: hê kônstantinoupolis]. athens, 1862. schlumberger, g. l'épopée byzantine à la fin du sixième siècle. schmitt, f. g. kahrié djamissi. schultz and barnsley. the monastery of s. luke of stiris. london, 1901. schweigger, solomon. ein neue reyssbeschreibung auss deutschland nach constantinopel, 1581. siderides. articles in the _proceedings of the greek syllogos of constantinople_. socrates. ecclesiastical history. strzygowski, j. orient oder rom. leipzig, 1901. " kleinasien, die byzantinischen wasserbehälter von. dr. p. forcheimer and dr. j. strzygowski. texier. four volumes of sketches in the library of the royal institute of british architects. london. texier and pullan. byzantine architecture. uspenski, t. articles in the _journal of the russian institute at constantinople_. villehardouin. la conquête de constantinople. vogüé de. la syrie centrale. wulff, o. die koimisiskirche in nikaia. strasburg, 1903. periodicals atti della r. accademia di archeologia, lettere, e belle arte, vol. xx. napoli, 1900. revue archéologique. byzantinische zeitschrift. bulletin de correspondance hellénique. annual of the british school at athens. proceedings of the greek syllogos of constantinople. mitteilungen des deutschen excursions-club, konstantinopel. english historical review. list of emperors constantine i. the great 306-337 constantius ii. 337-361 julian 361-363 jovian 363-364 valens 364-378 theodosius i. the great 378-395 arcadius 395-408 theodosius ii. 408-450 marcian 450-457 leo i. 457-474 leo ii. 474-474 zeno 474-491 anastasius i. 491-518 justin i. 518-527 justinian i. the great 527-565 justin ii. 565-578 tiberius 578-582 maurice 582-602 phocas 602-610 heraclius 610-641 heraclius constantine iii. and heracleonas 641-642 constans ii. 642-668 constantine iv. 668-685 justinian ii. 685-695 leontius 695-697 tiberius iii. 697-705 justinian ii. (restored) 705-711 philippicus 711-713 anastasius ii. 713-715 theodosius iii. 715-717 leo iii. the isaurian 717-740 constantine v. copronymus 740-775 leo iv. 775-779 constantine vi. 779-797 irene 797-802 nicephorus i. 802-811 stauracius 811 michael i. rhangabe 811-813 leo v. the armenian 813-820 michael ii. the amorian 820-829 theophilus 829-842 michael iii. 842-867 basil i. 867-886 leo vi. the wise 886-912 constantine vii. porphyrogenitus 912-958 co-emperors alexander 912-913 romanus i. lecapenus 919-945 constantine viii. and stephanus, sons of romanus i. reigned five weeks in 944 romanus ii. 958-963 basil ii. bulgaroktonos 963-1025 co-emperors nicephorus ii. phocas 965-969 john i. zimisces 969-976 constantine ix. 976-1025 constantine ix. (sole emperor) 1025-1028 romanus iii. argyrus 1028-1034 michael iv. 1034-1042 michael v. 1042 zoe and theodora 1042 constantine x. monomachus 1042-1054 theodora (restored) 1054-1056 michael vi. stratioticus 1056-1057 isaac i. comnenus 1057-1059 constantine xi. ducas 1059-1067 michael vii. ducas 1067-1078 co-emperor romanus iv. diogenes 1067-1078 nicephorus iii. botoniates 1078-1081 alexius i. comnenus 1081-1118 john ii. comnenus 1118-1143 manuel i. comnenus 1143-1180 alexius ii. comnenus 1180-1183 andronicus i. comnenus 1183-1185 isaac ii. angelus 1185-1195 alexius iii. angelus 1195-1203 isaac ii. angelus (restored), alexius iv. angelus 1203-1204 nicolas canabus 1204 alexius v. ducas murtzuphlus 1204 latin emperors of constantinople baldwin i. 1204-1205 henry 1205-1216 peter 1217-1219 robert 1219-1228 john of brienne 1228-1237 baldwin ii. 1227-1361 byzantine emperors at nicaea theodore i. lascaris 1204-1222 john iii. ducas 1222-1254 theodore ii. ducas 1254-1259 john iv. ducas 1259-1260 under the restored byzantine empire michael viii. palaeologus 1260-1282 andronicus ii. palaeologus 1282-1328 co-emperor michael ix. 1295-1320 andronicus iii. palaeologus 1328-1341 john v. palaeologus 1341-1391 co-emperor john vi. cantacuzene 1341-1355 manuel ii. palaeologus 1391-1425 john vii. palaeologus 1425-1448 constantine xii. palaeologus 1448-1453 index abaga, 274 achaia, 273 achilles, abbot of the studion, 40 achmed, mongolian khan, 274 achmed pasha, 205 achmed iii., sultan, 276 achrida, 46 acre, 228 acritas, 39 adrianople. _see_ gate aecatherina, empress, 47, 197, 295 aetius. _see_ church, cistern agapetus, pope, 184 agatha, 197 agathangelus, 302 agatho, pope, 67 aivan serai, 191, 207, 208, 209, 213 akoimeti, 36, 37 ak serai. _see_ forum of the bous alexander, bath of, 88 alexander, patriarch, 85, 86 alexius, patriarch, 43 alexius strategopoulos, 228 ali atik mustapha pasha, 304 alsace, 224, 226 alti mermer. _see_ exokionion anastasia, daughter of emperor theophilus, 270 andrew of crete, 108 andronicus ducas, 295 andronicus, son of manuel ii., 229 anemodoulion, 245 anna comnena, 147 anna dalassena, 138, 139, 211, 212, 295, 297 anna, wife of andronicus ii., 141 anna of savoy, wife of andronicus iii., 144, 303 anna, wife of john vii. palaeologus, 128 anna, daughter of emperor theophilus, 270 anselm, bishop of havalsberg, 220 anthemius, 74 anthimus, saint, 291, 294 antioch, 86, 290 antony, patriarch, 43, 69 apocaucus, 144, 145 aqueduct of valens, 183, 184. arian, arius, 85, 86 armenia, armenian, 10, 39, 258, 268 arsenius, patriarch, 110, 111, 112 artavasdos, 293 asia minor, 1 aspar. _see_ cistern athanasius, patriarch, 232 athens, 258 athos, mount, 116, 185, 230, 258, 290, 301, 303, 326 avars, 48, 232 avret tash. _see_ column of arcadius axuch, 221 azerbaijan, 148 babylas, saint, 288, 294 bactagius, 293 baghdad, 69, 255, 272 bagtché kapoussi. _see_ gate of the neorion bajazet i., sultan, 47 bajazet ii., sultan, 49, 276, 304. _see_ mosque balat, 148, 280 baldwin, count, 214 baloukli. _see_ pegé baptistery of s. sophia, 2, 78, 332 bara, monk, 282 bardas, caesar, 44, 256, 270 basil, saint, 41 belisarius, 67 bertha, wife of manuel i. comnenus, 222 beshiktash, 107 bithynia, 30, 89, 294 blachernae, district of, 106, 165, 191, 193, 209, 210, 213, 282. _see_ palace black sea, 228, 272, 300 bogdan serai. _see_ church bonus, 48 branas, 303 bucoleon. _see_ harbour, palace buda, 280 bulgaria, bulgarian, 257, 272, 295, 297 byzantium, 84 caesarea, 273 cana, 327 candidus, 192 cantacuzene, michael, 280 capelli, 228 carbounaria, district of, 244, 245 cassandra, 230 chalcedon. _see_ council charabanda, 275 charisius, 290, 291. _see_ gate choirosphacta, 44 christoboulos, 276 christopher, son of romanus i., 197 chrysocameron, 199 chrysostom, s. john, 91 church, chapel, monastery, of- _note._--under this head the references indicate only the passages in which a church is mentioned outside the special chapter devoted to it. s. acacius, 199 acritas, 40 aetius, 255, 256, 259 s. anastasia pharmacolytria, 243 s. anastasius, 184 s. andrew the apostle, 109 s. andrew, near the gate of saturninus, 109 s. andrew 'god-intoxicated,' 109 s. andrew in krisei, 7, 8, 15, 30, 130, 150, 151, 186, 332, 333, 335, 336 s. andrew strategos, 109 s. anthimus, 291, 294 apostles, holy, 3, 64, 90, 123, 124, 146, 147, 168, 175, 176, 184, 219, 233 archangels, sygè, 316 s. aristina, 106, 112 balaban aga mesjedi, 334, 335, 336 bogdan serai, 10, 15, 23, 27, 28, 201, 282, 334, 335, 336 bosra, 70 cenopolis, 88 crimean memorial church, 281 s. constantine, 35 s. constanza, 1 daudatus, 183 s. demetrius, salonica, 32, 53, 75, 222 s. demetrius, kanabou, 148, 191, 192, 205 deré aghsy, 5 dexiocrates, 165 s. diomed, 109 s. elias, salonica, 10, 114, 116 etschmiadzin, 10 euphrosynè, libadia, 270 forty martyrs of sebasté, 291, 294 s. fosca, torcello, 247 gastria (sanjakdar mesjedi), 10, 24, 28, 107, 334, 335, 336 s. george, ezra, 78 s. george, genoa, 229 s. george, phanar, 149, 191 s. george, psamathia (soulou monastir), 106, 177, 268 s. george, salonica, 1 homonia, 88 hormisdas, 64, 68 s. ignatius, 294 s. irene, 11, 12, 15, 26, 53, 72, 84, 85, 333, 335, 336 s. john the baptist, hebdomon, 283 s. john the baptist in petra, 203, 255, 282 s. john baptist of the studion, 2, 11, 12, 29, 31, 107, 256, 258, 268, 303, 332, 335, 336 s. john the baptist in trullo, 15, 16, 28, 147, 281, 334, 335, 336 s. john evangelist, hebdomon, 297 kallou, 297 kefelé mesjedi. _see_ manuel s. lorenzo, milan, 78 s. luke, stiris, 11, 16 s. mamas, 106, 107, 197 manoueliou, 254 manuel, 11, 28, 47, 64, 254, 334, 335 ss. manuel, sabel, ishmael, 253 mara, 255 s. mark's, venice, 3, 13, 224, 238, 246, 247 kyra martha, 123, 124, 128, 166, 167 s. martin's, london, 289 s. mary (theotokos) of blachernae, 193 s. mary, curator, 265 s. mary diaconissa, 9, 12, 13, 16, 17, 20, 26, 30, 31, 32, 306, 310, 333, 335, 336 s. mary eleoussa, 240 s. mary euergetes, 164, 165, 166, 167 s. mary hodegetria, 227. _see_ eikon s. mary koimesis, nicaea, 7 s. mary kosmosoteria, 296 s. mary of the mongols, 10, 114, 116, 334, 335, 336 s. mary pammakaristos, 7, 12, 14, 18, 20, 24, 25, 27, 28, 31, 129, 130, 173, 175, 198, 201, 202, 205, 255, 281, 333, 335, 336 s. mary panachrantos, of lips, 7, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 151, 152, 243, 248, 333, 335, 336 s. mary panachrantos, near s. sophia, 123, 125, 126 s. mary, pegé, 177 s. mary peribleptos, 18, 35, 45, 50, 106, 177, 258, 268, 297 s. mary of vlach serai, 280 s. mary, chapel, in ss. sergius and bacchus, 69, 70 s. mary, 55 s. michael the archangel, 239, 291, 292, 294 s. mokius, 166 monastir mesjedi, 10, 20, 262, 334, 335 myrelaion, 14, 17, 47, 129, 333, 334, 335, 336 s. nicholas, 207 ss. nicholas and augustine, 281 s. nicholas, methana, 278 s. nicholas, myra, 6 s. paul, rome, 289 ss. peter and mark, 5, 9, 12, 13, 16, 27, 185, 186, 333, 335, 336 ss. peter and paul, 63, 64, 65, 66, 191, 192 protaton, mt. athos, 185 saccudio, 38 sanjakdar mesjedi. _see_ gastria s. saviour in the chora, 10, 12, 19, 20, 22, 23, 24, 27, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 36, 107, 153, 186, 236, 240, 255, 256, 332, 335, 336 s. saviour euergetes, 1, 166, 167, 213 s. saviour pantepoptes, 9, 14, 18, 29, 141, 295, 334, 335, 336 s. saviour pantokrator, mt. athos, 290 s. saviour pantokrator, constantinople, 10, 14, 16, 17, 18, 20, 25, 26, 29, 31, 132, 153, 165, 166, 173, 215, 219, 244, 247, 270, 273, 295, 334, 335, 336 s. saviour philanthropos, 147, 148 sepulchre, holy, 118, 265 ss. sergius and bacchus, 2, 8, 11, 21, 23, 26, 30, 115, 332, 333, 335, 336 s. sophia, constantinople, 2, 5, 11, 12, 14, 19, 20, 21, 23, 26, 27, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 46, 47, 62, 63, 69, 71, 72, 74, 78, 84, 85, 88, 89, 90, 91, 97, 102, 111, 112, 117, 118, 122, 123, 126, 145, 146, 169, 175, 176, 185, 223, 227, 229, 231, 233, 243, 244, 293, 305, 306, 313, 314, 315, 332, 333, 335 s. sophia, kiev, 326 s. sophia, monemvasia, 18 s. sophia, salonica, 15, 102, 103, 310, 314, 315, 333 soulou monastir. _see_ s. george, psamathia s. stephen, triglia, 30 s. symeon stylites, 63 s. thekla, 10, 28, 295, 334, 335, 336 s. theodore, athens, 244 s. theodore the general, 244 s. theodore (vefa meidan), 9, 14, 17, 19, 29, 31, 50, 73, 155, 334, 335 s. theodore, carbounaria, 244 s. theodore, district of claudius, 244 s. theodore, in the great palace, 244 s. theodore, district of sphorakius, 244 s. theodosia, 3, 5, 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 23, 27, 28, 30, 114, 151, 156, 185, 186, 238, 283, 333, 334, 335, 336 valens and daudatus, 183 vatopedi, 303 s. vitale, 70, 72, 73, 75, 78 cilicia, 221 cistercian abbey, 224 cistern- aetius, 64, 255. _see_ plate lxxvii. facing p. 262 aspar, 253, 254, 256, 257 bin-bin-derek (one thousand and one columns), 15 mokius, 109, 166 pulcheria, 131, 254 studion, 48, 50, 54. _see_ plate x. facing p. 54 claudius, district of, 244 colosseum, 33 column of- arcadius, 109 constantine the great (exokionion), 109 constantine ducas, 44, 126 constantine lips, 125, 126, 127 constantine, nobilissimus, 44, 45 constantine porphyrogenitus (son of michael viii.), 38, 110, 127 constantine, son of romanus i., 197 constantine, pope, 67 cosmas, patriarchs, 140, 141, 142, 143, 297 council- the second council, 87 chalcedon, 66 ferrara, 230 florence, 230 first concilium trullanum, 67, 202, 293 second concilium trullanum (quinisextum), 202 craterus, house of, 199 crete, 108 crusade, fourth, 213, 224, 298 cucusus, 87 curator, district of, 264 dandolo, henrico, 213 danube, 209 daphni, 258, 326 daphnusium, 228 dedeagatch, 296 s. demetrius, eikon of, 222 denderis, 269 derè aghsy, 4 dexiocrates, district of, 165 didymotica, 299 dionysius, monk, 48 diplokionion, 107 edirnè kapoussi. _see_ gate of charisius egri kapou, district of, 209 emperor- alexius i. comnenus, 43, 146, 147, 211, 212, 220, 294, 295, 297, 335 alexius ii. comnenus, 223, 224 alexius v. ducas murtzuphlus, 213 anastasius i., 63, 282 andronicus i. comnenus, 223, 224, 297 andronicus ii. palaeologus, 37, 109, 110, 111, 128, 140, 141, 142, 143, 168, 230, 263, 275, 282, 299, 302, 303, 324 andronicus iii. palaeologus, 128, 141, 263, 275, 299, 303 baldwin i., 214 baldwin ii., 227, 228 basil i., 68, 335 basil ii., 43 basiliscus, 37, 88 charlemagne, 41 conrad of germany, 222 constans, 87 constantine the great, 1, 3, 84, 85, 101 constantine v. copronymus, 38, 90, 101, 108, 196, 293 constantine vi., 38, 39, 41 constantine vii. porphyrogenitus, 44, 126, 197, 199, 247 constantine ix., 46 constantine palaeologus or dragases, 174, 176, 177, 230, 259, 260 constantius ii., 85, 86 henry, 227 heraclius, 48, 292 isaac ii. angelus, 297, 303 isaac i. comnenus, 37, 47, 197, 209, 210, 295 john i. zimisces, 303 john ii. comnenus, 138, 210, 219, 220, 221, 239 john v. cantacuzene, 144, 229, 263, 297, 301, 302, 303 john vi. palaeologus, 144, 192, 229, 297, 302 john vii. palaeologus, 47, 128, 229, 230 justin i., 63, 64, 67 justinian i., the great, 3, 37, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 70, 73, 74, 75, 89, 97, 101, 102, 103, 184, 254, 288, 290, 291, 292, 332, 333 justinian ii., 67 leo i. macellus, 265 leo iii., the isaurian, 89, 90, 101, 102, 164, 293 leo v., the armenian, 39, 68, 294 leo vi., the wise, 44, 90, 126, 247 leopold i. of austria, 191 licinius, 246 lothair the great, 220 manuel i. comnenus, 85, 221, 222, 223 manuel ii. palaeologus, 47, 229 marcian, 36, 85 maurice, 184, 197 maximianus, 63, 246, 288 michael i., 39 michael ii., 39, 68 michael iii., 69, 256, 269, 294 michael v., 44, 45 michael vii., 46, 47, 257, 295, 297 michael viii. palaeologus, 47, 110, 127, 140, 228, 229, 272, 297, 298, 303 nicephorus botoniates, 46, 297 nicephorus i., 39 philippicus, 293 phocas, 292 romanus i. lecapenus, 90, 196, 197, 199, 257 romanus ii., 197 romanus iii. argyrus, 257 theodore ii. of nicaea, 110 theodosius i., the great, 87, 196 theodosius ii., 36, 226 theophilus, 68, 69, 199, 209, 253, 255, 256, 257, 269, 270 valens, 183, 184 zeno, 37, 88 enos, 296 ephesus, 47, 143, 222 et meidan, 244 etschmiadzin, 10 eubulus hospice, 88 eudocia, 91, 227 eugenia, 230 euphrosyné, daughter of michael viii. palaeologus, 272 euphrosyné, step-mother of emperor theophilus, 269 euphrosyné, 270 eusebius, patriarch, 86 excubiti, 292 exokionion, 109 eyoub, 106, 208 ezra, 78 factions, 88 ferejik, 296 ferrara, 230 festus, 64 fifth hill, 137 florence, 230 forum of- bous, 164 constantine the great, 85 philadelphium, 184 tarus, 184, 245, 265 fourth hill, 244 gabalas, 144, 145 galata, 85, 107, 176, 228 galbius, 192 galla placidia, 2 garsonostasion, 89 gate- adrianople (edirné kapoussi), 253, 254 aurea. _see_ golden gate aurea, porta, spalato, 33 aya kapou. _see_ gate of s. theodosia beautiful gate of s. sophia, 69 chalké (bronze gate), 164 charisius, 265, 290, 304, 305 dexiocrates, 165 edirné kapoussi. _see_ gate of charisius egri kapou, 209 eugenius, 111, 254 golden gate, 35, 109, 227 gyrolimné, 263 ispigas, 213 jubali kapoussi, 213 koum kapoussi, 62 narli kapoussi, 36, 48 neorion, 254 pegé (selivri kapoussi), 106, 107, 228 royal gates of s. sophia, 69 s. romanus (top kapoussi), 262, 282 saturninus, 109 selivria. _see_ pegé s. theodosia (aya kapou), 164, 165, 212 tchatlady kapou, 62, 223 xylokerkou, 107, 197 xyloporta, 205 yali kiosk kapoussi. _see_ gate of eugenius gatulazzo, 229 gennadius, patriarch, 146, 147, 158, 175, 201, 230, 231, 232 genoa, genoese, 228, 254 george scholarius. _see_ gennadius georgia, 148 germanus, patriarch, 293 giotto, 327 golden horn, 91, 138, 146, 164, 166, 167, 191, 208, 209, 212, 213, 216, 219, 254, 280, 281 goths, gothic, 18, 29, 31, 34 grammarian. _see_ john the grammarian greece, 10, 11, 16 gregoras, 44 gregory of nazianzus, 87 gregory, patriarch, 112, 113 gregory, pope, 298 halki, island of, 138, 220, 240 harbour- bucoleon, 223 heptascalon, 199 hormisdas, 62 hassan pasha, 173 hebdomon, 297 helena, empress, 268 helena, wife of constantine vii., 197 heraclea, 144, 300 hermogenes, 86 hippodrome, 62, 63, 256 hodegetria, eikon of, 47, 227, 303 holagu, 273, 274 holy well of blachernae, 193 holy well of s. nicholas, 207 hormisdas, district of, 62. _see_ harbour hormisdas, pope, 64, 291 horreum, 199 humbert, cardinal, 46 hylilas, john. _see_ john the grammarian ignatius, patriarch, 90 irene, empress (mother of constantine vi.), 38 irene, daughter of bardas, 270 irene ducaena, wife of alexius i. comnenus, 295, 297 irene, wife of john ii. comnenus, 139, 219, 221, 239 irene, wife of andronicus ii., 229 irene, wife of andronicus iii., 128 irene, wife of manuel ii., 230 isaac, son of john ii. comnenus, 221 isaac sebastocrator, 295, 296, 297, 310 isaac palaeologus asanes, 275 isidore, cardinal, 231 ispigas. _see_ gate janissaries, 91 jannes, 68 jerusalem, 265, 268 john comnenus, curopalates and grand domestic, 138, 139 john the grammarian, patriarch, 68, 69 joseph, abbot of s. saviour pantokrator, 222 joseph, bishop of thessalonica, 39, 40, 43 joseph, patriarch, 230 jubali kapoussi. _see_ gate julius viii., pope, 68 juma bazaar, 106 kadikeui, 64 kaffa, 258 kalat-semân, 63 kan kilissi. _see_ church of s. mary of the mongols kasr ibn wardan, 4 kerularios, patriarch, 46 kesmé kaya, 203, 280, 282 khaled, 207 kiev, 231, 326 kraal of servia, 142, 143 krisis, district, 6, 108 kusr en nûeijîs, 2 kynegion, 293 kyriakos, patriarch, 184 kyros, patriarch, 293 kyzlar aghassi hamam, bath of, 199 ladislas, king of hungary, 219 lascaris, john, 110 latin, 38 laura, mount athos, 258 s. laurentius, 65 lecanomantis, 68 leomacellum, 244 libadia, 270 longophetes, teutal, 280 lovitz, 210 s. luke, 227 lycus, 122, 126, 244 macarius, 230 macedonius, patriarch, 86, 87 mahomet, 208 maimas, 199 makrikeui, 283, 297 s. mamas, suburb of. _see_ church manuel, general, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257 maria, wife of constantine vi., 38 maria, wife of john vii. palaeologus, 230 maria despoina of the mongols, 229, 272, 273, 274, 275 maria ducaena, 295, 326 maria palaeologina, wife of michael ducas glabas tarchaniotes, 140 maria, daughter of isaac i. comnenus, 197 maritza, 296 s. mark, evangelist, 246 marmora, island of, 73 marmora, sea of, 36, 48, 62, 138, 146, 196, 224, 283 maroulas, phocas, 262, 263 martin v., pope, 230 martin, abbot, 224, 225, 226 mecca, 113 mehemed i., sultan, 145 mehemed the conqueror, sultan, 158, 175, 214, 232, 276, 277, 304 menodora, 262 methodius, patriarch, 294 metrodora, 262 michael glabas tarchaniotes, 139, 140, 141, 155, 156, 157, 158 michael palaeologus tarchaniotes, 140 michael, syncellus, 294, 326 milan, 78, 118 milion, 293 minerva medica, temple, 1 mistra, 326 modius, 199 moldavia, 203, 280, 281 monemvasia, 16 monferrat, marquis of, 229 mongols, mongolian, 272, 274, 275, 334, 335 moses, 68 mosque, achmed pasha mesjedi. _see_ s. john in trullo aivas effendi, 209 mosque, atik mustapha pasha jamissi. _see_ s. andrew in krisei atik mustapha pasha. _see_ church of ss. peter and mark balaban aga mesjedi. _see_ church boudrom jamissi. _see_ myrelaion demirjilar mesjedi, 122 emir ahor jamissi. _see_ studion eski imaret jamissi. _see_ church of the pantepoptes eski jumah, salonica, 53 eyoub, 208 fetiyeh. _see_ church of the pammakaristos gul jamissi. _see_ church of s. theodosia hassan pasha mesjedi. _see_ church of s. theodosia hoja mustapha pasha mesjedi. _see_ church of s. andrew in krisei kalender haneh jamissi. _see_ s. mary diaconissa kahriyeh jamissi. _see_ church of s. saviour in the chora kassim aga mesjedi, 255 kefelé mesjedi. _see_ monastery of manuel kurku jamissi, 263 kutchuk aya sofia. _see_ church of ss. sergius and bacchus laleli jamissi, 173 monastir mesjedi. _see_ church odalar mesjedi, 253 pheneré isa mesjedi. _see_ s. mary panachrantos rustem pasha jamissi, 27 sanjakdar mesjedi. _see_ gastria shahzadé jamissi, 27, 183, 184, 199, 265 sultan bajazid, 27, 116, 117, 265 sultan mehemed the conqueror, 122, 125, 265 sultan selim i., 27, 253, 254 sultan suleiman, 27 sheik suleiman aga mesjedi, 25, 270 toklou dedè. _see_ church of s. thekla zeirek kilissi jamissi. _see_ church of the pantokrator mousikos, 44 murad ii., sultan, 146 murad iii., sultan, 148 musmiyeh, 2 mustapha pasha, 113 mustapha tchaoush, 262 mutasim, caliph, 256 myra, 6 muzalon, 110 naucratius, abbot of the studion, 40 nestorius, patriarch, 66 nicaea, 7, 89, 110, 275 nicene creed, 85, 87 nicephoras gregoras, historian, 300, 301, 302 nicetas, eunuch, 199 nicetas stethetos, 46 nicholas, abbot of the studion, 40 nicholas, patriarch, 90 nicomedia, 86, 288, 291 nika riot, 63, 88, 101 niphon, bishop of old patras, 144 niphon, patriarch, 111 nogaya, 272 nymphodora, 262 oaton, 202 olympus, mount, 294 othman, 275 oun kapan, 219 padua, 326, 327 palace of- blachernae, 202, 209, 227, 228, 263, 282, 295, 298 bogdan serai, 203 constantine porphyrogenitus, 19, 27, 247, 256, 299, 305 great palace, 48, 64, 90, 164, 184, 201, 227, 228, 244 hebdomon, 202 hormisdas, 62, 65 magnaura, 202 mangana, 147 myrelaion, 196 nicaea, 202 pegé, 46 placidiae augustae, 67 placidianum, 67 tekfour serai. _see_ palace of constantine porphyrogenitus trullus, 202, 281 palestine, 2, 268, 294 palmyra, 3 pantheon, 1 parisis, 224, 226 paphlagonia, 223 patras, old, 144 paul, patriarch, 86, 87 pegé, 46, 177 pelagion, 293 peloponessus, 229, 273 perama, 85 perigord, 3 persia, persians, 48, 232, 272, 275, 290 petra, palaia petra, 282, 283 petronas, 270 phanar, 149, 173, 191, 253, 272 philip, the apostle, 126 philip, prefect, 87 phocas maroules, 262, 263 photius, patriarch, 43, 44, 90, 257 piazzetta of s. mark, 246 plato, abbot, 39, 40 porphyrius, charioteer, 91 praetorium, at musmiyeh, 2 praetorium, 88 prince's islands, 138 prinkipo, 39 priscus, 292 proconessus, island of, 111 proté, island of, 197 prussianus, 257 psamathia, 35, 106, 166, 167, 177, 258, 268 pulcheria, empress, 227 pulcheria, daughter of emperor theophilus, 269, 270 pulcheria. _see_ cistern pyrisca, 220 raoul, protovestarius, 110 raoulaina, protovestiarissa, 110. _see_ theodora raoul, 280 ravenna, 2, 31, 32, 73, 75 region i., 67 region vii., 85 rome, 1, 33, 34, 289 rufinianai, 64 russia, russian, 40, 42, 48, 53, 272, 280, 303 sabbas, 303 salma tomruk, district of, 253 salonica, 1, 10, 15, 31, 32, 39, 53, 75, 92, 114, 116, 142, 312, 313, 314, 315, 333 sampson, hospital of, 88, 89 samuel, king of bulgaria, 295 sanjakdar youkoussou, 277 santabarenus, 44 saracens, 207, 208, 232, 253, 255, 303 saturninus. _see_ gate scholarius. _see_ gennadius scythicus, 299 sebasté, 291 selim i., sultan, 113, 276 selim ii., sultan, 173 seraglio, 84, 91, 148, 296 sergius, patriarch, 257 servia, 10, 272 seventh hill. _see_ xerolophos sigma, 45 simonis, daughter of andronicus ii., 142 sirkiji iskelessi, 35 sixth hill, 209 sklerena, 46 sophiai, 64 sophronius, abbot of the studion, 40 soulou monastir. _see_ s. mary peribleptos sozopolis, 144 spalato, 33 sphorakius, 243, 244 stephen, son of romanus i., 197 strategopoulos, alexius, 228 stiris, 11, 16 studius, 35, 36 suleiman, sultan, 280 sygé, 316 sykai, 85 symeon, king of bulgaria, 127 synadenus, 263 synnada, 72 synod of constantinople (in 536), 291 synod of constantinople (under photius), 257 synod of sardica (in 347), 87 syria, syrian, 1, 2, 86, 290, 291, 326 tamerlane, 51 tarchaniotes. _see_ michael taron, prince of, 126 tash mektep, 262 taurus mountains, 221 tchoukour bostan, 109, 254 tekfour sarai. _see_ palace teutal lougophetes, 280 thebes, duchy of, 272 thekla, daughter of emperor theophilus, 209, 270 theoctista, 269, 270 theoctistos, 256, 270 theodora- empress of justinian the great, 62, 70, 73, 74, 75, 97, 102, 290 empress of emperor theophilus, 40, 69, 255, 256, 269, 270, 294 empress of michael viii. palaeologus, 127 wife of romanus i. lecapenus, 197 protovestiarissa, 110, 111, 112, 113 nun, 275 theodore- abbot of s. saviour in the chora, 290, 291, 292 abbot of the studion, 38, 39, 40, 41, 43 son of manuel ii., 229 theodore metochites, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301 theodosia, saint, 164 theodosius, abbot of the studion, 40 theodosius de villehardouin, abbot of the pantokrator, 229, 273 theodote, 38, 39 theognosia, 113 theophane, 117 theophanes, bishop of heraclea, 144 theophano, wife of romanus ii. and nicephorus phocas, 197 third hill, 243, 244 thomais, nun, 128 thrace, 86, 89 timotheus, 40 timovo, 298 tivoli, 63 toklou dedè. _see_ church of s. thekla top kapou. _see_ gate s. romanus torcello, 247 tornikes, 239, 302, 303, 310, 330 trani, 46 trebizond, 229, 272 tricocca, 275 triglia, 30 trivulce, 118 trullus. _see_ council, palace turks, 275, 283 varangians, 46 vatopedi, 303 veecus, patriarch, 112, 122, 125, 126, 229, 297 vefa meidan, 177, 243, 244, 245 venetian, 213, 214, 227, 228 venice, 3, 224, 226, 227, 228, 238, 246 verina, empress, 265 vienna, 280 vigilius, pope, 66, 67 villehardouin, 297 viros, 296, 297 vlach serai, 280 vlanga, 196 wallachian, 280 wall of constantine, 109 wall of heraclius, 207, 208 wall of leo, 207, 208 walls of theodosius ii., 289, 290 war office, 244, 265 xené, 220 xerolophos, 108, 109 yali kiosk kapoussi. _see_ gate of eugenius yedi koulé. _see_ golden gate yolande, 229 zeirek mehemed effendi, 233 zinet, 144, 145 zoe- empress of leo vi., 90 empress, daughter of constantine viii., 44 the end _printed by_ r. & r. clark, limited, _edinburgh_. [transcriber's note: * is used around words to mark bold text.] [transcriber's notes:] this work is derived from files on the internet archive: http://archive.org/details/symbolismofchurc00dura page numbers in this book are indicated by numbers enclosed in curly braces, e.g. {99}. they have been located where page breaks occurred in the original book. the honorific "mr" is without a following period in the original. the period has been inserted in this transcription. [end transcriber's notes.] the symbolism of _churches and church ornaments_ a translation of the first book of the _rationale divinorum officiorum_ written by william durandus sometime bishop of mende _with an introductory essay and notes_ by the rev. john mason neale, b.a. and the rev. benjamin webb, b.a. of trinity college, cambridge _new york_ charles scribner's sons 743 and 745 broadway 1893 dedicated to the cambridge camden society by two of its founders {vii} preface the interest which has lately been displayed, as on all subjects connected with ecclesiology, so more especially on the symbolical bearing of church architecture, has led us to imagine that a translation of the most valuable work on symbolism which the middle ages can furnish, might not, at the present time, be unacceptable to churchmen. written, however, at a period when christian architecture had not attained its full glory, it necessarily leaves untouched many arrangements of similar tendency, subsequently adopted; addressed to those who had not yet learnt to doubt everything not formally proved, it assumes many points which may now seem to require confirmation: and composed for the use of a clergy habituated to a most figurative ritual, it passes over much as well known, which is now forgotten or neglected. on these accounts we have considered it necessary to prefix an essay on the subject; in which we have endeavoured to prove that catholic architecture must necessarily be symbolical; to answer the more common objections to the system; and to elucidate it by reference to actual examples, and notices of the figurative arrangements of our own churches. we have also added notes, where any obscurity seemed {viii} to require explanation; and we have, both in them and in the appendix, thrown together such passages from martene, beleth, s. isidore of seville, hugo de s. victore, and other writers, as tended to explain and to enforce the remarks of durandus. with reference to the author himself, but little is known; and that little has been told before. william durandus was born at puy-moisson, in provence, about the year 1220. a legend of his native country is told in the present work. [footnote 1] he became the pupil of henry de luza, afterwards cardinal of ostia; and taught canon law at modena. on this subject he composed a most learned work, the _speculum juris_; from which he obtained the title of _speculator_: as also another treatise called _repertorium juris_: and a _breviarium glossarum in textum juris canonici_. his high attainments marked him [footnote 2] out for the office of chaplain to pope clement iv. [footnote 1: see p. 126] [footnote 2: _mutata fortuna_, says doard: to what this refers, we know not.] he was afterwards auditor of the sacred palace; and legate to pope gregory x at the council of lyons. he was then made captain of the papal forces; in which post he assisted at the reduction of several rebellious cities, and behaved with great courage. he finally became bishop of mende in 1286. while in this post, and resident at rome (for he did not personally visit his diocese till 1291, the administration of the diocese being perhaps left to a nephew of the same name, who succeeded him), he finished the work, of the first book of which a translation is presented to the reader. but it probably {ix} was commenced before; for we find from a passage in its latter half, that so far had been written during the course of this same year 1286. and there is no difficulty in the title, _episcopus miniatensis_, which he gives himself in the proeme, as this could easily have been added afterwards. but it was certainly published, as martene observes, before 1295; because durandus speaks of the feasts of the holy apostles as _semi-doubles_, whereas in that year, by a constitution of pope urban, they were commanded to be observed as doubles. the time at which the treatise was written more especially demands our attention; because, did we imagine it only a few years later than it really was, we might well be astonished at finding no reference to the symbolism of the decorated style. the interruptions amidst which the _rationale_ was written are feelingly alluded to by its author, in the epilogue (p. 161). he also wrote a treatise _de modo concilii generalis habendi,_ probably either suggested by, or preparatory to, that of lyons. he afterwards went on an embassy from the pope to the sultan; and is by some said to have ended this life at nicosia in cyprus. but the fact is not so: for having governed his diocese ten years, and having refused the proffered archbishopric of ravenna, he departed at rome on the feast of all saints, 1296, being buried in the church of sancta maria super minervam, where his monument is yet to be seen, with the following inscription:-{x} hic jacet egregius doctor proesul mimatensis, nomine duranti guillelmus regula morum: splendor honestatis et casti candor amoris altum consiliis spatiosum mente serenum hunc insignibat immotum turbine mentis. mente pius, sermone gravis, gressuque modestus, extitit infestus super hostes more leonis: indomitos domuit populos, ferroque rebelles, impulit, ecclesiae victor servire coëgit. comprobat officiis, paruit romania sceptro belligeri comitis martini tempore quarti: edidit in jure librum, quo jus reperitur: et speculum juris, et patrum pontificale: et rationale divinorum patefecit: instruxit clerum scriptis, monuitque statutis: gregorii deni, nicolai scita perenni glossa diffudit populis, sensusque profundos: jure dedit mentes et corpus luce studentum: quem memori laude genuit provincia dignum: et dedit a podio missone diaecesis ilium: inde biterrensis, praesignis curia papae: dum foret ecclesiae mimatensis sede quietus, hunc vocat octavus bonifacius; altius ilium promovet; hic renuit ravennae praesul haberi. fit comes invictus simul hinc et marchio tandem, et romam rediit: domini sub mille trecentis (quatuor amotis) annis: tumulante minerva. surripit hunc festiva dies, & prima novembris. guadia cum sanctis tenet omnibus inde sacerdos: pro quo perpetuo datur haec celebrare capella. the _rationale_ was the first work, from the pen of an uninspired writer, ever printed. the _editio princeps_ appeared at the press of fust in 1459; being preceded only by the psalters of 1457 and 1459. it is, of course, of the most extreme rarity: the beauty of the typography has seldom been exceeded. chalmers mentions, besides this, thirteen editions in the fifteenth, and thirteen in the sixteenth century: all of them are very rare. {xi} the editions with which we are acquainted, are those of rome 1473; lyons 1503, 1512, 1534, 1584; antwerp 1570; venice 1599, 1609. the translation has been made from the editions of 1473 and 1599. the former is a magnificent specimen of typography: the words are excessively contracted; and there are double columns to each page. our copy is partially illuminated; and the binding is ornamented with a border of the evangelistic symbols. the latter contains also the first edition of the work of beleth, and is a reprint of doard's lyons edition of 1565. doard dedicated it to his brother, bishop of marseilles; and prefixed a preface, in which he bestows a well-merited eulogium on durandus, and mentions the care taken in correcting and revising the work. he also added some notes, of little worth. the venice reprint is so vicious a specimen of typography, that from it alone the sense could in many places hardly be explained. our copy belonged to bishop white kennett, who appears to have studied it diligently. we must now say a few words as on our own share in the work. with respect to the introduction, fully convinced as we are of the truth and importance of the general principle maintained in it, we do not wish to press, as matter of certainty, all or any of the minor details into which that theory is carried. we believe, indeed, that the more the subject has been studied, the more truthful our views will appear to be: but we wish the reader to bear in mind, that the weakness of any portion of them is no argument against their reception, as a whole. at the same time, none can be more aware than ourselves how much more ably such views might have been advocated: we have not, however, spared {xii} time or pains in the study of the subject; 'and if we have done meanly, it is that we could attain unto.' in the translation, we have endeavoured, too often unsuccessfully, to retain the beautiful simplicity of the original. in the obscure passages, of which there are not a few, we have mentioned the difficulty in the notes, lest the reader, by our mistake, should be led into error himself. the quotations from holy scripture are given in the authorised version, except where, to bring out the author's full meaning, it was necessary to have recourse to the vulgate; and we have then translated literally from that. we have felt no small pleasure in thus enabling this excellent prelate, though at so far distant a land from his own, and after a silence of nearly six hundred years, being dead, yet to speak: and if the following pages are at all useful in pointing out the sacramental character of catholic art, we shall be abundantly rewarded, as being fellow-workers with him in the setting forth of one, now too much forgotten, church principle. j. m. n. b. w. _michaelmas_, 1842. introductory essay ---sacramentality: a principle of ecclesiastical design analysis of the introductory essay introduction. 1. spread of the study of church architecture. 2. obvious, but indefinable, difference between old and new churches. wherein this consists. not in association, nor in correctness of details, nor in the picturesque, nor in the mechanical advantages, but in reality considered, in an enlarged view, as sacramentality. 3. this probable, from examples, and promises in holy scripture. catholic consent, examples to the contrary, philosophical reasons. 4. enunciation of the subject. 5. writers on the subject, pugin, poole, lewis, coddington, the writers of the cambridge camden society. a. arguments for symbolism. i. a priori. symbolising spirit of catholic antiquity, in (a) interpretation of holy scriptures. (b) analogy of the jewish ceremonies. (c) private manners. (d) emblems in catacombs, etc. (e) symbolical interpretation of heathen writers. ii. analogical. i. examples of other nations. (a) jews. (1) temple rites. (2) legal observances. (3) sacred books. (b) turks. (c) infidels. (1) hindu and egyptian mythology (2) persian poetry. (d) heretics. {xvi} ii. from nature. (a) trinity. (b) resurrection. (c) self-sacrifice, iii. from art. (a) sculpture, (b) painting. (c) music. (d) language of flowers. iv. parabolical teaching. iii. philosophical. objective answering to subjective. all effect sacramental of the efficient. sacramentality of all religion. ritualism peculiarly and necessarily sacramental. church architecture, a condition of ritualism. necessities induce accidents: and these material expressions. example: necessities of ritualism, and their expressions in earlier and later ages. hence symbolism. essential. intended. conventional, which again becomes intended. iv. analytical. 1. cruciformity. 2. ascent to altar. 3. orientation. 4. verticality. v. inductive. express and continuous testimony. (a) apostolical constitutions. (b) eusebius. (c) symbolical writers. actual examples. vi. recapitulation. b. examples of symbolism. i. doctrines. (a) the holy trinity, set forth in i. nave and two aisles. ii. chancel, nave and apse, iii. clerestory, triforium, and pier arches, iv. triple windows. v. altar steps. vi. triplicity of mouldings, vii. minor details. (b) regeneration. i. the octagonal form of fonts, ii. the octagonal form of piers, iii. fishes. (c) atonement. i. cruciformity. ii. deviation of orientation. iii. double cross, iv. the threat rood. v. details. (d) communion of saints. ii. details. (a) windows: a series of examples. (b) doors. i. norman tympana. ii. double doors in early english. (a) these explained in two ways, (1) christ's entrance into the world. (2) our entrance into the kingdom of heaven. (b) difference between mouldings of chancel arches and doors. (c) porches. (d) chancel arch and rood screen. (e) monuments. (a) difference of ancient and modern symbolism in these, (1) sceptical character of the present age. (2) paganism of modern design. (3) reality of ancient design. (b) historical details of monuments. (f) gurgoyles and poppyheads. (g) flowers used in architecture. c. objections answered. 1. inequality of type and antitype. 2. difference of symbolism in the same arrangement. 3. mechanical origin. d. history of symbolism. 1. norman; as symbolising facts. 2. early english; as symbolising doctrines. 3. decorated; as symbolising the connection of doctrines. 4. perpendicular; as symbolising the progress of erastianism. 5. flamboyant, etc. 6. post reformation symbolism. e. conclusion. contrast between a modern and ancient church. _laus deo_ {xix} introductory essay chapter i introductory the study of church architecture has within the last few years become so general, and a love for it so widely diffused, that whereas, in a former generation it was a task to excite either, in the present it is rather an object to direct both. an age of church-building, such as this, ought to produce good architects, not only from the great encouragement given to their professional efforts, but from the increasing appreciation of the principles and powers of their art. and yet it cannot be denied, however we may account for the fact, that (at least among those for whom we write, the members of our own communion), no architect has as yet arisen, who appears destined to be the reviver of christian art. it is not that the rules of the science have not been studied, that the examples bequeathed to us have not been imitated, that the details are not understood. we have (though they are but few) modern buildings of the most perfect proportions, of the most faultless details, and reared with lavish expense. it is that there is an undefined--perhaps almost undefinable--difference between a true 'old church,' and the most perfect of modern temples. in the former, at least till late in the perpendicular era, we feel that, however {xx} strange the proportions, or extraordinary the details, the effect is church-like. in the latter, we may not be able to blame; but from a certain feeling of unsatisfactoriness, we cannot praise. the solution of the problem,--what is it that causes this difference? has been often attempted, sometimes with partial, but never with complete, success. that most commonly given is the following:--the effect of association in old buildings,--the mellowing power of time,--the evident antiquity of surrounding objects,--the natural beauties of foliage, moss, and ivy, that require centuries to reach perfection;--as on the other hand, the bareness, the newness, nay even the sharpness and vigour of new work; these, it is said, are sufficient to stamp a different character on each. there is doubtless something in this; but that it is not the whole cause is evident from the fact, that give a modern church all the above mentioned advantages on paper, and an experienced eye will soon detect it to be modern. those writers who, as grose, milner, and carter, lived before the details of christian art were understood, seem to have placed its perfection in a thorough knowledge of these: experience has proved them wrong. others, as mr. petit, [footnote 3] have made a kind of ideal picturesque; and, having exalted the phantasm into an idol, have fallen down and worshipped it. others, again, have sought for an explanation of the difficulty in mathematical contrivance and mechanical ingenuity; and the result has been little more than the discovery of curious eave-drains, and wonderful cast-iron roof-work. lastly, mr. pugin (_cum talis sis, utinain noster esses!_) has placed the thing required in _reality_. {xxi} that is, to quote his own words, in making these the two great rules of design:-1. that there should be no features about a building which are not necessary for convenience, construction, or propriety: 2. that all ornament should consist of enrichment of the essential construction of a building.' [footnote 4] and we may add, as a corollary, still quoting the same writer:--'the smallest detail should have a meaning or serve a purpose: the construction itself should vary with the material employed: and the designs should be adapted to the material in which they are to be executed.' still, most true and most important as are these remarks, we must insist on one more axiom, otherwise christian art will but mock us, and not show us wherein its great strength lieth. [footnote 3: see the review of his work in the _ecclesiologist_, vol. i, pp. 91-105.] [footnote 4: pugin's 'true principles,' p. 1.] a catholic architect must be a catholic in heart. simple knowledge will no more enable a man to build up god's material, than his spiritual temples. in ancient times, the finest buildings were designed by the holiest bishops. wykeham and poore will occur to every churchman. and we have every reason to believe, from god's word, from catholic consent, and even from philosophical principles, that such must always be the case. holy scripture, in mentioning the selection of bezaleel and aholiab, as architects of the tabernacle, expressly asserts them to have been filled 'with the spirit of god in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver and in brass, and in cutting of stones to set them, and in carving of timber, to work in all manner of workmanship.' and this indeed is only a part of the blessing of the pure in heart: they see god, the fountain of beauty, even in this life; as they shall see him, the fountain of holiness, in the {xxii} next. from catholic consent we may learn the same truth. why else was ecclesiastical architecture made a part of the profession of clerks, than because it was considered that the purity and holiness of that profession fitted them best for so great a work? [footnote 5] [footnote 5: compare the general drift of the address to paulinus. _eusebius_. h. e. x. 4.] nay, we have remarkable proofs that feeling without knowledge will do more than knowledge without feeling. there are instances of buildings--lisbon cathedral and s. peter's college chapel, cambridge, are cases in point--which, with debased or italian details, have nevertheless christian effect. and we have several similar cases, more particularly in the way of towers. now, allowing the respectability, which attaches itself to the profession of a modern architect, and the high character of many in that profession, none would assert that they, as a body, make it a matter of devotion and prayer; that they work for the church alone regardless of themselves; that they build in faith, and to the glory of god. in truth, architecture has become too much a profession: it is made the means of gaining a livelihood, and is viewed as a path to honourable distinction, instead of being the study of the devout ecclesiastic, who matures his noble conceptions with the advantage of that profound meditation only attainable in the contemplative life, who, without thought of recompense or fame, has no end in view but the raising a temple, worthy of its high end, and emblematical of the faith which is to be maintained within its walls. it is clear that modern architects are in a very different position from their predecessors, with respect to these advantages. we are not prepared to say that none but monks ought to design churches, or that it is impossible for a professional {xxiii} architect to build with the devotion and faith of an earlier time. but we do protest against the merely business-like spirit of the modern profession, and demand from them a more elevated and directly religious habit of mind. we surely ought to look at least for church-membership from one who ventures to design a church. there cannot be a more painful idea than that a separatist should be allowed to build a house of god, when he himself knows nothing of the ritual and worship of the church from which he has strayed; to prepare both font and altar, when perchance he knows nothing of either sacrament but that he has always despised them. or, again, to think that any churchman should allow himself to build a conventicle, and even sometimes to prostitute the speaking architecture of the church to the service of her bitterest enemies! what idea can such a person have formed of the reality of church architecture? conceive a churchman designing a triple window, admitted emblem of the most holy trinity, for a congregation of socinians! we wish to vindicate the dignity of this noble science against the treason of its own professors. if architecture is anything more than a mere trade; if it is indeed a liberal, intellectual art, a true branch of poesy, let us prize its reality and meaning and truthfulness, and at least not expose ourselves by giving to two contraries one and the same material expression. it is objected that architects have a right to the same professional conscience that is claimed, for instance, by a barrister. to which we can only reply, that it must be a strange morality which will justify a pleader in violating truth; and how much worse for an architect to violate truth in things immediately connected with the house and worship of god? it may be asked, do we mean to imply then that a church architect ought never {xxiv} to undertake any secular building? perhaps, as things are, we cannot expect so much as this now: but we can never believe that the man who engages to design union-houses, or prisons, or assembly-rooms, and gives the dregs of his time to church-building, is likely to produce a good church, or, in short, can expect to be filled from above with the spirit of wisdom. the church architect must, we are persuaded, make very great sacrifices: he must forego all lucrative undertakings, if they may not be carried through upon those principles which he believes necessary for every good building; and particularly if the end to be answered, or the wants to be provided for, are in themselves unjustifiable or mischievous. even in church-building itself, he must see many an unworthy rival preferred to him, who will condescend to pander to the whims and comfort of a church-committee, will suit his design to any standard of ritualism which may be suggested by his own ignorance, or others' private judgment, who will consent to defile a building meant for god's worship with pews and galleries and prayer-pulpits and commodious vestries. but hard as the trial may be, a church architect must submit to it, rather than recede from the principles which he knows to be the very foundation of his art. we would go further even, and deny the possibility of any architect's success in all the different styles of pointed architecture, not to mention the orders of greece and rome, vitruvian, palladian, cinque cento, wrennian, nay even chinese, swiss, hindoo, and egyptian at once. we have not even now exhausted the list of styles in which a modern architect is supposed to be able to design. it is even more absurd than if every modern painter were expected, and should profess, to paint equally well in the styles of perugino, francia, raphael, holbein, claude, the poussins, salvator rosa, correggio, van eyck, {xxv} teniers, rubens, murillo, reynolds, west, gainsborough, overbeck, and copley fielding all at once! an architect ought indeed to be acquainted, and the more the better, with all styles of building: but if architecture, as we said before, is a branch of poesy, if the poet's mind is to have any individuality, he must design in one style, and one style only. for the anglican architect, it will be necessary to know enough of the earlier styles to be able to restore the deeply interesting churches, which they have left us as precious heirlooms; enough of the debased styles, to take warning from their decline: but for his own style, he should choose the glorious architecture of the fourteenth century; and, just as no man has more than one hand-writing, so in this one language alone will he express his architectural ideas. we cannot leave this topic without referring to what the cambridge camden society has said with respect to architectural competition. [footnote 6] _it is a fact_ that at this time many competing designs are manufactured in an architect's office, by some of his clerks, as if by machinery: if a given plan is chosen, the architect is summoned, and sees _his_ (!) design for the first time, when he is introduced to the smiling committee-men. it is another fact that there is at this time in london a small body of persons, with no other qualification than that of having been draughtsmen in an architect's office, who _get up_ a set of competing designs for any aspirant who chooses to give them a few instructions, and to pay them for their trouble. how much it is to be wished that there were some examination of an architect's qualifications, before he should be allowed to assume the name! it seems strange that the more able members of the profession do not themselves feel some _esprit de corps_, and do not at {xxvi} least endeavour to claim for their art its full dignity and importance. we fear however that very few, as yet, take that _religions_ view of their profession, which we have shown to be seemly, even if not essential. if, however, we succeed in proving that religion enters very largely into the principles of church architecture, a religious _ethos_, we repeat, is _essential_ to a church architect. at all events, in an investigation into the differences between ancient and modern church architecture, the contrast between the ancient and modern builders could not be overlooked: and it is not too much to hope that some, at least, may be struck by the fact, that the deeply religious habits of the builders of old, the hours, the cloister, the discipline, the obedience, resulted in their matchless works; while the worldliness, vanity, dissipation, and patronage of our own architects issue in unvarying and hopeless failure. [footnote 6: see _ecclesiologist_, vol. i, pp. 69, 85.] we said that there were philosophical reasons for the belief that we must have architects--before we can have buildings--like those of old. if it be true that an esoteric signification, or, as we shall call it, _sacramentality_, [footnote 7] ran through all the arrangements and details of christian architecture, emblematical of christian discipline, and suggested by christian devotion; then must the discipline have been practised, and the devotion felt, before a christian temple can be reared. that this esoteric meaning, or symbolism, does exist, we are now to endeavour to prove. [footnote 7: it may be proper to distinguish between five terms, too generally vaguely employed in common, and which we shall often have occasion to use: we mean, _allegorical, symbolical, typical, figurative_, and _sacramental_. 'allegory employs fictitious things and personages to shadow out the truth: symbolism uses real personages and real actions (and real things) as symbols of the truth:' _british critic_, no. lxv. p. 121. sacramentality is symbolism applied to the truth [greek text], the teaching of the church, by the hands of the teacher: a type is a symbol intended from the first: a figure is a symbol not discovered till after the thing figurative has had a being.] {xxvii} we assert, then, that _sacramentality_ is that characteristic which so strikingly distinguishes ancient ecclesiastical architecture from our own. by this word we mean to convey the idea that, by the outward and visible form, is signified something inward and spiritual: that the material fabric symbolises, embodies, figures, represents, expresses, answers to, some abstract meaning. consequently, unless this ideal be itself true, or be rightly understood, he who seeks to build a christian church may embody a false or incomplete or mistaken ideal, but will not develope the true one. hence, while the parthenon, or a conventicle, or a modern church, may be conceived to have, on the one hand, so much _truthfulness_, as to symbolise respectively the graceful, but pagan, worship of athene--the private judgment of the dissenter--and the warped or ill-understood or puritanised religious ethos of the modern churchman; and, on the other hand, to have so much _reality_ as to carry out most satisfactorily mr. pugin's canons; yet, inasmuch as in neither case was the builder's ideal the true one, so in neither case is his architecture in any way adapted to, or an embodiment of, the ideal of the church. reality, then, is not of itself sufficient. what can be more _real_ than a pyramid, yet what less christian? it must be christian reality, the true expression of a true ideal, which makes catholic architecture what it is. this christian reality, we would call _sacramentality_; investing that symbolical truthfulness, which it has in common with _every_ true expression, with a greater force and holiness, both from the greater purity of the perfect truth which it embodies, and from the association which this name will give it with those adorable and consummate examples of the same {xxviii} principle, infinitely more developed, and infinitely more holy in the spiritual grace which they signify and convey,--the blessed sacraments of the church. the modern writers who have treated on symbolism seem to have taken respectively very partial views of the subject. mr. pugin does not seem in his books to recognise the particular principle which we have enunciated. we have shown that his law about reality is true so far as it goes, but that it does not go far enough. he himself, for example, is now contemplating a work on the reality of domestic, as before of ecclesiastical, architecture. now, nothing can be more true, nothing more useful, than this. yet even he does not seem to have discerned that as contact with the church endues with a new sanctity, and elevates every form and every principle of art: so in a peculiar sense the sacred end to which church architecture is subservient, elevates and sanctifies that reality which must be a condition of its goodness in common with _all_ good architecture; in short, raises this principle of reality into one of sacramentality. we should be sorry to assert that mr. pugin does not feel this, though we are not aware that he has expressed it in his writings: but in his most lasting writings, his churches namely, it is clear that the principle, if not intentionally even, and if only incompletely, has not been without a great influence on that master mind. yet even in these we could point to details, and in some of his earlier works to something more than details, which shew that there is something wanting; that in the bold expedients and fearless licence which his genius has led him to employ, he has occasionally gone wrong; not from the fact of his departure from strict precedent, and his vindication of a certain architectural freedom, but because in these escapements from authority, he has not invariably kept in view the { xxix} principle now advocated. however the author of the 'true principles' might point to his churches, to prove that a reverent and religious mind, employed in administering to the material wants of the church, (even though that reverence be misapplied, and that church in a schismatical position), cannot fail to succeed, at least in some degree, in stamping upon his work the impress of his own faith and zeal, and in making it, at least to some extent, a living development and expression of the true ideal. mr. poole, the author of the 'appropriate character of church architecture,' would appear to believe the symbolism of details rather than any general principle. he was the first, we think, to reassert that the octagonal form of fonts was figurative of regeneration. in the latter edition of his book he has adopted several of the symbolical interpretations advanced by the writers of the cambridge camden society. mr. lewis, in his illustrations of kilpeck church (in an appendix to which he has printed a translation of some part of the 'rationale' of our author), has given a treatise on symbolism generally, and has applied his principles to the explanation of the plan and details of that particular church. his book excited some attention at the time of publication, and was met by considerable ridicule in many quarters. to this we think it was fairly open, since the author did not seem to have grasped the true view of the subject. he appears to believe that, from the very first, _all_ church architecture was _intentionally_ symbolical. now this is an unlikely supposition, inasmuch as till church architecture was fully developed, we do not think that its real significancy was understood to its full extent by those who used it. that it was, in its imperfect state, symbolical, we should be the last to deny; but it seems more in accordance {xxx} with probability, and more in analogy with the progress of other arts, to believe that at first certain given wants induced and compelled certain adaptations to those wants: which then _did_ symbolise the wants themselves; and which afterwards became intentionally symbolical. now such a view as this will explain satisfactorily how a christian church might be progressively developed from a basilican model. mr. hope, in his essay on architecture, carries us back to the very earliest expedient likely to be adopted by a savage to protect him from weather, and from this derives every subsequent expansion of the art. which may be true, and probably is true, so far at least as this: that, however first acquired, the elementary knowledge of any method of building would be, like all other knowledge, continually receiving additions and improvements, till from the first bower of branches sprang the parthenon, and from that again cologne or westminster. but then it is clearly necessary to show some moral reason for so strange a development, so complete a change of form and style. now the theory that the ethos of catholic architects working upon the materials made to hand, namely, the ancient orders of pagan architecture and (say) the basilican plan, gradually impressed itself upon these unpromising elements, and progressively developed from them a transcript of that ethos in christian architecture, is intelligible at least, and presents no such difficulty as mr. lewis's supposition that ancient architects (he does not say when, or how long--but take kilpeck church and say _norman_ architects) designed intentionally on symbolical principles. we want in this case to be informed when the change took place, from what period architects began to symbolise intentionally, at what time they forgot the traditions of church-building, which they must have had, and commenced to carry new principles into practice. {xxxi} nor, on this supposition, do we see why there should have been any progressive development, why the basilican and debased-pagan trammels were not cast away at once; nor why, if the _ideal_ of the norman architect was true and perfect (that is if he were a true catholic), its expression should not have been so too: nor why any norman symbolism, thus originated, should ever have been discarded (as it has been in later styles), instead of remaining an integral and essential part of the material expression of the church's mind. now our view appears to be open to no such objection. on the one hand there are given materials to work upon, and on the other a given spirit which is to mould and inform the mass. the contest goes on: mind gradually subdues matter, until in the complete development of christian architecture we see the projection of the mind of the church. it is quite in analogy with the history and nature of the church, and with the workings of god's providence with respect to it, that there should be this gradual expansion and development of truth. we foresee the objection that will be raised against fixing on any period as that of the full ripeness of christian art, and are prepared for many sneers at our advocacy of the perfection of the edwardian architecture. but we are assured that, if there is any truth (not to say in what is advanced in this essay, but) in what has ever been proposed by any who have appreciated the genius of pointed architecture--to confine ourselves to our own subject--no other period can be chosen at which all conditions of beauty, of detail, of general effect, of truthfulness, of reality are so fully answered as in this. and from this spring two important considerations. firstly, the decline of christian art--which may be traced from this very period, if architecture be tried by any of the conditions which have been laid down--was confessedly {xxxii} coincident with, and (if what we have said is true) was really symbolical of, those corruptions, which ended in the great rending of the latin church; the effects of, and penalties for, which remain to this day in full operation in the whole of western christendom. secondly, the decorated style may be indeed the finest development of christian architecture which the world has yet seen; but it does not follow that it is the greatest perfection which shall ever be arrived at. no: we too look forward, if it may be, to the time when even a new style of church architecture shall be given us, so glorious and beautiful and true, that cologne will sink into a fine example of a transitional period, when the zeal and faith and love of the reunited church shall find their just expression in the sacramental forms of catholic art. but besides the above objection to mr. lewis's theory we may mention the arbitrary way in which he determines on things which are to be symbolised, and then violently endeavours to find their expected types. this is quite at variance with the practice of any sober symbolist; and more especially (as we shall hereafter have occasion to point out) with that of durandus. this forced sort of symbolism naturally leads to a disregard of precedent and authority: and accordingly we remember to have heard of a design by this gentleman for the arrangement of a chancel which professed to symbolise certain facts and doctrines; but which, whatever might be the ingenuity of the symbolism, was no less opposed to the constant rule of arrangement in ancient churches, than it was practically absurd and inconvenient for the purpose which it was meant to answer. indeed, while mr. lewis insists strongly on the symbolising of facts, he does not succeed in grasping any general principle, any more than he sees the {xxxiii} difficulty there is in the way of our receiving his supposition of an intention to symbolise from the first. no architect ever sat down with an analysed scheme of doctrines which he resolved to embody in his future building: in this, as in any other department of poesy, the result is harmonious, significant, and complete, and may be resolved into its elements, though these elements might never have been laid by the poet as the foundation upon which to raise his superstructure. that were like de la harpe's theory that an epic poet should first determine on his moral, and then draw out such a plan for his poem as may enable him to illustrate that moral. [footnote 8] [footnote 8: it is with pain that we have spoken of mr. lewis at all, because every ecclesiologist owes him a debt for his great boldness in turning the public attention to the subject of symbolism. yet we believe that a prejudice has been excited by him against that subject which it will be hard to get over; for we are constrained to say, that greater absurdities were never printed than some which have appeared in his book. his explanations of the west end of kilpeck church--his cool assumption when any bracket appears more puzzling than usual that it is of later work, and therefore not explainable--his random perversions of scripture--his puerile conceits about the door--deserve this criticism. this same south door he extols as a perfect mine of ecclesiastical information, while he confesses himself unable to explain the symbols wrought on the two orders of the arch--that is about two-thirds of the whole! it is strange, too, that in his restoration of the church, he should have forgotten all about the bells--and have violated a fundamental canon of symbolism, by terminating his western gable in a plain cross.] the writers of the cambridge camden society have carried out the system more fully and consistently than any others. it has evidently grown upon them, during the process of their inquiries: yet in their earliest publications, we trace, though more obscurely, the same thing. their 'few words to church-builders' acknowledged the principle to a far greater length; and the _ecclesiologist_ has always acted upon it, even when not expressly referring to it. as a necessary consequence, they were the first who dwelt on the absolute necessity of a distinct and spacious chancel; the first who recommended, and {xxxiv} where they could, insisted on, the re-introduction of the rood-screen; and the first to condemn the use of western triplets. the position and shape of the font, the necessity of orientation, and some few details, they have, but only in common with others, urged. the oxford architectural society have never recognised any given principles: and in consequence littlemore is proposed by them as a model--a church either without, or else all, chancel; and either way a solecism. as might have been expected from a separatist, rickman, in his treatise, gives not a single line to the principle for which we contend. mr. bloxam, in his excellent little work, though often referring to it--more especially in the later editions which have appeared since the labours of the cambridge camden society--yet hardly gives it that prominence which we might have expected from one who possesses so just an idea of mediaeval arrangements and art. among the chief opposers of the system we may mention mr. coddington of ware, who sees perfection in the clumsiness of basilican arrangements, and schism in the developed art of the middle ages. this writer, as it has been observed in the _ecclesiologist_, contends for two things:--1. that one great object of romanism was to abolish the distinction between the clergy and laity: 2. that another great object of the same church, acting by its monks, (or, as he calls them, schismatical communities) was to exalt the clergy unduly above the laity. the former assertion he does not attempt to prove: the latter he supports by pointing to the arrangement of the rood-screen, which, therefore, like the french ambonoclasts, he wishes to pull down both in cathedrals and churches. {xxxv} this brief review of the principal writers who have treated on the symbolism of churches and church ornaments, concludes our first chapter. in it we have endeavoured to point out an acknowledged desideratum; to shew what suppositions have been advanced on the subject; to set forth wherein, and for what reason, they fail of being satisfactory; to enunciate the principle of _sacramentality_ as essential for the full appreciation and successful imitation of ancient church architecture; and finally, in referring to the works of some later symbolists, to shew why their hypotheses are incomplete or untenable. we have also brought under review the glaring contrasts between the methods of life of an ancient and modern architect; and, if we may so say, between the machinery of designing and the habit of mind in the two cases. we shall now proceed to examine those arguments which may lead us to suspect that some such principle as sacramentality really exists. {xxxvi} chapter ii the argument a priori it will first be proper to consider whether, regarding the subject _à priori_, that is, looking at the habits and manners of those among whom the symbolical system originated, if it originated anywhere, we have reason to think them at all likely to induce that system. now, as matter of fact, we know that the train of thought, the every-day observances, above all, the religious rites of the early christians, were in the highest degree figurative. the rite of baptism gave the most forcible of all sanctions to such a system; and while it sanctioned, it also suggested, some of the earliest specimens of christian symbolism. hence, when that rite was found to be, so to speak, connected with the word formed by the initial letters of our blessed saviour's name and titles, arose the mystic fish: hence, as we shall see, the octagonal baptistery and font. indeed, almost every great doctrine had been symbolised at a very early period of christianity. the resurrection was set forth in the phoenix, rising immortal from its ashes: the meritorious passion of our saviour, by the pelican, feeding its young with its own blood: the sacrament of the holy eucharist, by grapes and wheatears, or again by the blood flowing from the heart and feet of the wounded lamb into a chalice beneath: the christian's renewal of strength {xxxvii} thereby in the eagle, which descending grey and aged into the ocean, rises thence with renewed strength and vigour: the church, by the ark, and the vessel [footnote 9] in which our lord slept: the christian's purity and innocence by the dove: [footnote 10] again, by the same symbol the souls [footnote 11] of those who suffered for the truth: again, though perhaps not so early, the holy spirit: the apostles were also set forth as twelve doves: [footnote 12] the ascension of our saviour by the flying bird; concerning which s. gregory [footnote 13] teaches, 'rightly is our redeemer called a bird, whose body ascended freely into heaven': martyrs also by birds let loose; for so tertullian, [footnote 14] 'there is one kind of flesh of fishes, that is of those who be regenerate by holy baptism; but another of birds, that is of martyrs.' [footnote 9: naviculum quippe ecclesiam cogitate,--turbulentum mare hoc seculum.----_s. aug. de verb dom_.] [footnote 10: quaeque super signum resident coeleste columbae, simplicibus produnt regna patere dei. _s. paulin. ep. 12, ad sever_.] [footnote 11: cum nollet idolis sacrificare (sc. s. reparata) ecce, gladio percutitur: cujus anima in columbae specie de corpore egredi, coelumque conscendere visa est.--_martyrol. rom. viii. id. oct._ emicat inde columba repens, martyris os nive candidior visa relinquere, et astra sequi: spiritus hic erat eulaliae lacteolus, celer, innocuus. _pruden. perist. hymn. 9._ compare also the passion of s. potitus,--act. ss. bollandi, 13 jan. so, in the cemetery of s. calistus, a piece of glass was found by boldetti, on which s. agnes was represented between two doves, the symbols of her virginity and martyrdom.] [footnote 12: crucem corona lucido cingit globo cui coronas sunt corona apostoli, quorum figura est in columbarum choro. (s. paulin. epp.)] [footnote 13: in evang. 29.] [footnote 14: de resurrect. 52.] {xxxviii} the caged bird is symbolical of the contrary; this has been found upon the phial containing the blood of a martyr. of this, boldetti says, 'it is represented on the mosaic of the ancient tribune of s. mary beyond tiber; one being seen at the side of isaiah the prophet, the other at that of the prophet jeremiah.' in the same way, partridges and peacocks, each with its own meaning are represented. so, again, lions, tigers, horses, oxen, strange fishes, and marine monsters, represent the fearful martyrdoms to which god's servants were exposed: a point which the reader will do well to bear in mind, because in treating of norman mouldings we shall have occasion again to refer to this matter. so, again, the extended hand symbolised providence. we have also the seven stars, the moon, and many other symbols of a similar kind. nor must we forget the _agnus dei_, by which our blessed lord himself was represented; nor the _pastor bonus_, in which his own parable was still further parabolised. the christian gems found in the catacombs are all charged with some symbolical device. upon these is the ship for the church, the palm for the martyr, and the instrument of torture: as well as the sacred monogram expressing our saviour's name. the same symbol blazed on the _labarum_ of the first christian emperor; and the very coins symbolically showed that the church had subdued the kingdoms of this world. that fearful heresy, gnosticism, which arose from an over-symbolising, shows, nevertheless how deeply the principle, within due limits, belonged to the church. the gnostic gems exhibit the most monstrous perversions of symbolical representations: the medals of dioclesian bear a lying symbol of a crushed and expiring christianity. later still, new symbols were adopted: mosaics, illuminations, ornaments, all bore some holy emblems. the monogram _ihs_ found in every church in western christendom: the corresponding symbol stamps the eucharistic wafers of the east. [footnote 15] [footnote 15: see on this subject the cambridge camden society's 'argument for the greek origin of the monogram ihs.'] {xxxix} the symbols of the evangelists were also of very early date, though not, in all cases, appropriated as now: for the angel and the lion fluctuated between s. matthew and s. mark. numbers, too, were fruitful of allegorical meaning; and the most ingenious combinations were used to elicit an esoteric meaning from them. by _one_, the unity of the deity was understood: by _two_, the divine and human natures of the saviour: by _three_, of course, the doctrine of the most holy trinity: by _four_, the doctrine of the four evangelists: by _six_, the attributes of the deity: _seven_ represented the sevenfold graces of the holy spirit: _eight_ (for a reason hereafter to be noticed), regeneration: _twelve_, the glorious company, the apostles, and, tropologically, the whole church. and when a straightforward reference to any of these failed, they were added or combined, till the required meaning was obtained. a single instance may suffice:--s. augustine, writing on that passage of s. paul's, 'what? know ye not that the saints shall judge the world?' after explaining (_expos. super psalm_. lxxxvi) the twelve thrones, which our saviour mentions, of the whole church, as founded by and represented in the apostles, finds a further meaning. 'the parts of the world be four; the east, the west, the north, and the south:' and (adds the father) 'they are constantly named in holy writ. from these four winds, saith the lord in the gospel, shall the elect be gathered together: whence the church is called from these four parts. called, and how? by the trinity. it is not called, except by baptism, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost. so four, multiplied by three, make twelve.' in accidental numbers, too, a meaning was often found. no wonder that some beheld, in the three hundred and eighteen trained servants wherewith abraham, the father of the faithful, routed the combined kings, a type of the three hundred and eighteen fathers of nicaea, by whom the faithful rose triumphant over the arian heresy. {xl} again, types and emblems without number were seen in the language of the psalmist, occurring so continuously in the services of the church. 'his faithfulness shall be thy buckler,' gives rise to a fine allegory of s. bernard's, drawn from the triangular shape of the buckler used at the time when that father wrote; even as we still see it, in the effigies of early knights. it protects the upper part of the body completely: the feet are less completely shielded. and so, remarks the saint, does god's providence guard his people from spiritual dangers, imaged by those weapons which attack the upper, or more vital parts of the body: but from temporal adversities he hath neither promised, nor will give so complete protection. to mention the symbolism which attached itself to the worship of the early church, would be to go through all its rites. confirmation and matrimony, and, above all, baptism, were attended by ceremonies in the highest degree symbolical. but it is needless to dwell on them; enough has been said to prove the attachment which the catholic church has ever evinced to symbolism. but the sign of the cross is that which gave the greatest scope to symbolism.--our readers will probably remember the passage of tertullian in which he says, 'we cross ourselves when we go out, and when we come in; when we lie down, and when we rise up,' etc. indeed, as in everything they used, so in everything they saw, the sign of the cross. the following lines from donne are much to the purpose: {xli} since christ embraced the cross itself, dare i his image, th' image of his cross, deny? would i have profit by the sacrifice, and dare the chosen altar to despise? it bore all other sins, but is it fit that it should bear the sin of scorning it? who from the picture would avert his eye, how should he fly his pains, who there did die? from me no pulpit, nor misgrounded law. nor scandal taken, shall this cross withdraw: it shall not--nor it cannot--for the loss of this cross were to me another cross: better were worse: for no affliction. no cross were so extreme, as to have none. who can blot out the cross, which th' instrument of god dewed on him in the sacrament? who can deny me power and liberty 'to stretch mine arms, and mine own cross to be? swim--and at every stroke thou art thy cross: the mast and yard are theirs whom seas do toss. look down, thou seest our crosses in small things, look up, thou seest birds fly on crossed wings. we will mention but one symbolical feature more in the trains of thought which were common among the early christians. we refer to the esoteric meaning which was supposed to exist in the writings of heathen authors: as for example, when the pollio of virgil was imagined to point to the saviour, and the fortunate isles of pindar to paradise. it were easy but needless to dwell on this subject. the few instances we have given are already amply sufficient to prove to some, to remind others, how symbolical was the religion of the early church, and (we think) to establish our case _à priori_. {xlii} chapter iii the argument from analogy having dealt with the argument _à priori_, we now proceed to show that, from analogy, it is highly probable that the teaching of the church, as in other things, so in her material buildings, would be symbolical. firstly, let us look at other nations, and other religions. it need not be said that the symbolism of the jews was one of the most striking features of their religion. it would be unnecessary to go through their tabernacle and temple rites, their sacrificial observances, and their legal ceremonies. the passover, the cleansing of the leper, the scape goat, the feast of tabernacles, the morning and evening sacrifice, the sabbatical year, the jubilee, were all in the highest degree figurative. the very stones in the breastplate have each, according to the rabbis, their mystical signification. and, as if still further to teach them the sacramentality, not only of things, but of events, it pleased god to make all their most famous ancestors, chiefs, and leaders, _e.g._ abraham, isaac, jacob, joseph, moses, joshua, david, most remarkable types of the messiah: nay, from the beginning the principal doctrines of christianity were, in some form or other, set forth. regeneration and the church, in the flood and the ark: the bread and wine in the manna and the stricken rock: the two dispensations in sarah and {xliii} hagar. indeed the immense extent of symbolism in the old testament was the mine of the fathers. every day they brought to light some new wealth; and, if we press the symbolism of the church further than it was actually intended, we are only treading in the steps of her bishops and doctors. for while, of course, in commenting on and explaining the sacrifice of isaac, the covenant of circumcision, the captivity and exaltation of joseph, they were only developing the real meaning which god seems to have intended should be set forth by those events, there are,--as we have already hinted,--many instances where their piety found an interpretation which was perhaps never intended. thus, because job, while all else that belonged to him was restored double, had only the same number of children which he had lost--they have argued, that thus the separate existence of souls was represented, as the patriarch could not be said to have lost those who were in another state of existence. and if in the old testament we find authority for the principle of symbolism, much more do we in the new. we shall presently have occasion to allude to the rise and progress of the sacramentality of baptism: we may now refer more particularly to the frequency with which s. paul symbolises the enactments of the law; as in the case of the ox forbidden, while treading out the corn, to be muzzled. so again, the revelation is nothing but one continued symbolical poem. the parabolic teaching of our lord we shall presently notice. to this we may add, the exoteric and esoteric signification of certain books, _e.g._, the song of solomon: the double interpretation of many of the prophecies, primarily of the earthly, principally of the heavenly jerusalem: we may refer to the symbolical meaning attached, under the christian dispensation, to certain previously {xliv} established rites, as, for instance. holy matrimony. with symbolical writings, enactments, events, personages, observances, buildings, vestments, for her guides and models, how could the church catholic fail of following symbolism, as a principle and a passion? but not only is christianity symbolical: every development of religion is, and must necessarily be so. on the grecian mythology, we shall have occasion to say something more presently. the symbolism of plato, and still further development by proclus and the later philosophers of his school, will occur to every one. if it be asserted that the more it was touched and acted on by christianity, the more symbolical did it become,--we only reply, so much the more to the purpose of our argument. but not only in roman and grecian paganism is this the case. the hindoo religion has much of symbolism; and some of its most striking fables, derived from whatever source--whether from unwritten tradition, or from contact with the jews--possess this character wonderfully. take, for instance, the example of krishna suffering, and krishna triumphant; represented, in the one case, by the figure of a man enveloped in the coils of a serpent, which fastens its teeth in his heel; in the other, by the same man setting his foot on, and crushing the head of the monster. now here, it is true, the doctrine symbolised has long been forgotten among those with whom the legend is sacred: we, on the contrary, have a very plain reference to the promise concerning the seed of the woman and the serpent's head. this is an instance of the fact, that truth will live in a symbolical, long after it has perished in every other form: and doubtless, when the time for the conversion of india shall have arrived, thousands will receive the truth the more willingly, in that they have had a representation of it, distorted it is true, but not destroyed, set, for so many centuries, before their eyes. {xlv} some truths, accidentally impressed on a symbolical observance, may still live, that otherwise must have perished: just as the only memory of some of the beings that existed before the flood, is to be found in the petrified clay on which they accidentally happened to set their feet. the mahometan religion has also, though in an inferior degree, its symbolism; and the reason of its inferiority in this respect is plain--because, namely, it is a religion of sense. now catholicity, which teaches men constantly to live above their senses, to mortify their passions, and to deny themselves;--nay even hindooism, which, so far as it approximates to the truth, preaches the same doctrine, must constantly lead men by the seen to look on to the unseen. if everything material were not made sacramental of that which is immaterial, so, as it were, bearing its own corrective with its own temptation, man could hardly fail of walking by sight, rather than by faith. but now, the church, not content with warning us that we are in an enemy's country, boldly seizes on the enemy's goods, converting them to her own use. symbolism is thus the true sign of the cross, hallowing the unholy, and making safe the dangerous: the true salt which, being cast in, purified the unhealthy spring: the true meal which removed death from the prophet's provision. others may amuse themselves by asserting that the church in all that she does and enacts, is not symbolical:--we bless god for the knowledge that she is. we need not dwell on the symbolism of heretics, insomuch as we shall have occasion to refer to it in other parts of this essay. we will rather notice, that those to whom we have been but now referring, heathens and mahomedans, have a way of discovering a subtle {xlvi} symbolism in things which in themselves were not intended to have any deeper meaning. we may mention the odes of hafiz--the anacreon, or rather perhaps, the stesichorus, of persia. these poems, speaking to the casual reader of nothing but love, and wine, and garlands, and rosebuds, are seriously affirmed, by persian critics, to contain a deep esoteric reference to the communion of the soul with god; just as it has been wildly supposed, that under the name of laura, petrarch in fact only expressed that immortal beauty after which the soul of the christian is constantly striving, and to which it is constantly advancing. so in dante, beatrice is not only the poet's earthly love, but, as it has been well shown by m. ozanam, the representative of catholic theology. to dwell on the symbolism of nature would lead us too far from our point. but we must constantly bear in mind that nature and the church answer to each other as implicit and explicit revelations of god. therefore, whatever system is seen to run through the one, in all probability runs through the other. now, that the teaching of nature is symbolical, none, we think, can deny. shall we then wonder that the catholic church is in all her art and splendour sacramental of the blessed trinity, when nature herself is so? shall god have denied this symbolism to the latter, while he has bestowed it on the former? shall there be a trinity of effect in every picture, a trinity of tone in every note, a trinity of power in every mind, a trinity of essence in every substance,--and shall not there be a trinity in the arrangements and details of church art? it were strange if the servant could teach what the mistress must be silent upon: that natural religion should be endued with capabilities not granted to revealed truth. {xlvii} is not, again, the doctrine of the resurrection wonderfully set forth by nature? this symbolism is the more remarkable, in that to the ancients the rising of the sun and the bursting forth of the leaf must have appeared false symbolism, although they knew too well that of which autumn and evening were typical. so, to quote only one other example, the law of self-sacrifice is beautifully shadowed out by the grain that 'unless it die, abideth alone; but if it die, bringeth forth much fruit.' we may argue next from the analogy of all art. sculpture, perhaps, has least to offer in our support. but in painting we may refer to the conventional colours appropriated to various personages; and the mechanical symbolism of poetry is known to all. nor must we forget the conventional use of language. archaisms, studied inversions, quaint phrases, and the like, have always been affected by those who were treating of high and holy subjects. none has employed these with happier effect than spenser, whose language, it need not be said, never was and never could have been really used. the solemnising effect of a judicious employment of this artifice is nowhere more strongly felt than in works of divinity. compare for example the english language, where the conventional thou is always addressed to the deity, and where a stern simplicity runs through the whole of our divine offices, with the french which can only employ _vous_ in prayer, and with the portuguese, where, in the authorised translation of the holy scriptures, apostles, and prophets--nay, our blessed lord himself, speak in the polite phrases of conversational elegance. [footnote 16] [footnote 16: it is on grounds similar to these, that, in our translation of durandus, we have adopted that conventional style which has been objected to by some recent critics:--not that anyone ever naturally conversed or wrote in it, but for the sake of producing the effect which the subject seems to require. the brilliancy of a summer's day is beautiful in its place: admitted into a cathedral, it would be totally out of character.] {xlviii} music, however, has the strongest claims to our notice. we know, for example, that each instrument symbolises some particular colour. so, according to haydn, the trombone is deep red--the trumpet, scarlet--the clarionet, orange--the oboe, yellow--the bassoon, deep yellow--the flute, sky blue--the diapason, deep blue--the double diapason, purple--the horn, violet:--while the violin is pink--the viola, rose--the violoncello, red--and the double-bass, crimson. this by many would be called fanciful:--therefore let us turn to a passage of haydn's works, and see if it will hold. let us examine the sun-rise in the 'creation.' at the commencement, as it has been well observed, our attention is attracted by a soft-streaming sound from the violins, scarcely audible, till the pink rays of the second violin diverge into the chord of the second, to which is gradually imparted a greater fulness of colour, as the rose violas and red violoncellos steal in with expanding beauty, while the azure of the flute tempers the mounting rays of the violin: as the notes continue ascending to the highest point of brightness, the orange of the clarionet, the scarlet of the trumpet, the purple of the double diapason, unite in increasing splendour--till the sun appears at length in all the refulgence of harmony. this may serve as a specimen of the manner in which the expressions of one art may be translated into that of another, because they each and all symbolise the same abstraction. again, the language of flowers is a case much in point. this is a species of symbolism which has prevailed among all nations, and which our devout ancestors were not slow in stamping with the impress of religion. witness, for example, the _herb trinity_, now generally called _heartsease_, the _passion flower_, and the _lacrima christi_. and in the present day, who knows not that {xlix} the rose is for beauty--the violet for modesty--the sunflower for faithfulness--the forget-me-not for remembrance--the pansy for thought--the cypress for woe--the yew for trueheartedness--the everlasting for immortality? the flowers introduced into the ornament of churches we shall consider presently. furthermore, whatever was the character of our lord's teaching--such is likely to be that of his church. if the former were plain, unadorned, setting forth naked truths in the fewest and simplest words; then we allow that there is a _primâ facie_ argument against the system which we are endeavouring to support. but if it were parabolic, figurative, descriptive, allegorical--why should not the church imitate her master? his parables are at once the surest defence, and the most probable originators, of her symbolism. we shall have occasion in another place to draw from a consideration of the nature of our lord's parables an argument in behalf of symbolism against one of the most formidable objections that has been raised against the system. it would here be sufficient for our purpose to notice the figurative character of our lord's general teaching. but we have his own authority for much more than a general adoption of such a principle. tradition hands down that he was within sight of the temple when he pointed towards it, and uttered those gracious words, _i am the door_. be this as it may, we have from it a sufficient precedent to justify us in seeking for an emblematical meaning in the external world, and more particularly in the material sanctuary. s. paul, on the same principle, allegorises the jewish temple, detail by detail:--the holy of holies was heaven; the high priest, christ; the veil, even his flesh. it is inconceivable that the temple should be so symbolical, and so holy that our lord himself cleansed it from its defiling {l} money-changers: and yet that a christian church, wherein the great sacrifice is commemorated and our lord is peculiarly present, should be less symbolical--particularly when its arrangement is in exact conformity to that of the temple, [footnote 17] --or should be less holy. at any rate the _door_ must be significant: at any rate the altar, which s. paul claims for the christian church, in opposition to those who 'serve the tabernacle.' [footnote 17: see appendix a. ] again, the holy sacraments of the church are examples, in the highest degree, of this principle of figurative or symbolical teaching. they, indeed, are not only signs of unseen things, but the channels and instruments of grace. the latter quality we do not claim for the speaking symbolism of a material church: but architecture is an emblem of the invisible abstract, no less than holy baptism and the lord's supper. besides the two sacraments [greek text] our church recognises other offices, such as marriage, confirmation, and the like, as sacramentals. in short the whole church system is figurative from first to last: not indeed therefore the less real, actual, visible, and practical; but rather the more real and practical, because its teaching and discipline are not merely material and temporary, but anticipative of the heavenly and eternal. this quality then of symbolism cannot be denied to one, and a most important, expression of the teaching of the church, namely its architecture. the cathedral (to repeat the general in the particular) is not the less material, the less solid, the less real, because we see in it the figurative exhibition of the peculiarities of our religion and the articles of our creed. {li} chapter iv philosophical reasons for believing in symbolism we now propose to offer a few remarks on the philosophical reasons there seem to be for concluding that ecclesiastical architecture has some esoteric meaning, some figurative adaptation, more than can be appreciated, or even discerned, by the casual observer, to the uses which produced it, and which have always regulated it. we venture to approach this consideration, however, rather from a feeling that our essay would be incomplete without some reference to this kind of argument, than from any idea of our own ability to treat on subjects so abstract and infinite; and fearing that we may not be able clearly to express or dissect those thoughts which, nevertheless, appear to our own minds both true and very important. it is little better than a truism to assert that there is an intimate correspondence and relation between cause and effect: yet this thought opens the way to a very wide field of speculation. mind cannot act upon matter without the material result being closely related to the mental intention which originated it: the fact that anything exists adapted to a certain end or use is alone enough to presuppose the end or use, who can see a [greek text], without distinguishing its relation to the {lii} want or necessity which brought about [greek text]? in short, the [greek text], whatever it may be, not only answers to that which called it forth, but, in some sort, represents materially, or symbolises, the abstract volition or operation of the mind which originated it. show us a pitcher, a skewer, or any of the simplest utensils designed for the most obvious purposes: do not the cavity of the one, and the piercing point of the other, at once set forth and symbolise the [greek text] which was answered in their production? now, from this thought, we might proceed to trace out the truthfulness and reality of every [greek text] considered in relation to the [greek text]; for even a deceptive thing is true and real in its relation to the mental intention of deceiving: but we intend merely to consider the way in which the abstract movements or [greek text] of mind are _symbolised_ by the material operations or results which they have produced. in other words, we would allege that everything material is symbolical of some mental process, of which it is indeed only the development: that we may see in everything outward and visible some inward and spiritual meaning. it is this which makes 'books in everything': finding in everything objective the material exhibition of the subjective and unseen; not claiming for the abstract mind an independence of matter, but acknowledging its union with it; and thus learning from the speculations of reason, to perceive the fitness for our nature of that system of sacramentality in which god has placed us, and to bless him more and more for the church, a sacramental institution, and for _the_ sacraments [greek text], which it conveys. this method of viewing the subject will be our excuse for attempting on the one hand to learn by analysis from a material church itself, considered objectively, the symbolism which may be supposed to have directed its design; and on the other {liii} hand to show from the abstract necessities of the case that a material church might have been expected to be symbolically designed. but if this theory of symbolism gives light and meaning and connection to the acknowledged facts, whether abstract or material, with which we have to do; while no other view will explain _all_ the phenomena;--it certainly recommends itself by its simplicity and harmony to a general reception. considered in this light, the whole group of separate facts become linked together and adjusted, and so resolve themselves into a great fabric of truth, which (like the pyramid of cheops) is consistent and real and intelligible, when seen from any point, under any circumstances, or in any light. but if it be granted that there is this mutual connection between the abstract and its material exhibition in every case, it will be readily admitted that a principle of sacramentality must be especially a condition of all religious acts. if we were merely spirits, without bodies or any necessary connection with matter, it would be possible perhaps for us to worship the great spirit in an abstract way by a sort of volition of devotion; but not being so, our souls cannot engage in adoration without the company of their material home. hence every effort of devotion is attended by some bodily act. whether we lift our eyes or hands to heaven, or kneel in prayer, we show forth this necessity of our being: our body has sinned, has been redeemed, will be punished or glorified, no less than the soul: it must therefore worship with the soul. now the symbolism of the bodily acts of devotion is understood by all. we have even personated prayer by a prostrate figure with uplifted hands. [footnote 18] [footnote 18: the necessity which the body seems to feel for this symbolism may be seen in the constantly occurring fact, that in making signs, whether of inquiry or adieu, to a person at a distance, we naturally speak the words, though inaudible to him, which the gestures we use express.] {liv} it has been felt not only right but necessary, in all ages and places, to accompany the inward feeling of devotion with some outward manifestation of it. in other words, all religious actions are from their nature symbolical and figurative. but if the most obvious corporeal accompaniments to spiritual worship show this clearly, how much more evidently must all ritual systems appear to be symbolical? a system of worship, whether heathen, christian, or heretical, is only the development and methodising of the simplest figurative acts of devotion; the whole affected by the peculiar relation between the object of adoration and the worshippers which in each particular system may have been pre-supposed. why does the mussulman take off his shoes, kneel on his carpet towards mecca, and perform his stated ablutions? is not each act in itself figurative and full of meaning? how could such a system, or any other system, have been originated, but with some intended typification of certain given facts or doctrines or feelings? why does the heartless quaker go with covered head into his bare conventicle, and sit in enforced silence? he will answer, to express his independence of idle forms, the spirituality of his worship, his repudiation of any media in his intercourse with the divine being. we thank him for his admission of a symbolical purpose, but we read the symbolism differently. we perceive it to express clearly enough the presumptuous pride and vanity of his sect, his rejection of all sacraments, and his practical disbelief in the communion of saints. again, is the pulpit of the brownist symbolical; and shall not our font and altar be so at least as much? the catholic ritual is indeed symbolical from first to last. without the clue to its figurative meaning, we should never have understood its pregnant truthfulness and force. {lv} no one, in short, ever ventured to regard the ancient ritual as anything but highly figurative: this was claimed as its highest excellence by its observers and commentators, this was ridiculed and despised by the enemies of the church; but was confessed by all. the more anyone meditates on the ancient ritual of the church, the more this will be found not only the most prominent characteristic, but the only satisfactory explanation of many otherwise unintelligible requirements. this is not the place to go at any length into the consideration of the whole symbolism of the ritual system: it will be enough if it is granted that some prescribed ritual, however meagre, must be a necessary part of all religion; and that every such system is in some degree figurative or symbolical. now to apply this to church architecture. no one will deny that, in a general point of view, the form of our churches is adapted to certain wants, and was chosen for this very adaptation. indeed this is allowed by modern writers and builders: who defend a church which has no more than an altar-recess, on this very ground, that there is no longer any want of a deep chancel. 'i object to aisles,' says a modern architect, 'because the great end of a church is to be an auditorium.' 'the cross form,' says another, 'i always adopt, because then everyone can see the preacher if i place the pulpit in the middle.' but why not take a circle or octagon at once, or the form which is always adopted for the lecture-rooms at mechanics' institutes? for these plans are obviously _most_ convenient for hearing and seeing. but then, everyone knows that these are not _church_ forms. the modern builder then, trammelled, at least in this respect, by rule and precedent, chooses the cruciform plan, not (perhaps) for its true symbolism; but, by a wrong arrangement of this plan, still further symbolises (for example) his own undue estimation of the ordinance {lvi} of preaching. so true it is that those who would most object to symbolism, as a rule of design, are themselves (did they but know it) symbolising, in every church they build, their own arbitrary and presumptuous ideas on the subject. it is not our intention to prove here, (what has been pointed out, however, many times), the duty incumbent upon us of following in our modern churches the ancient principles of design: we are not writing with the immediate practical end of improving modern church architecture; but are endeavouring to illustrate the symbolical principles of ancient design. we shall, however, before finishing this chapter, choose an example, which will apply to us, as well as to any other branch of the church, to show how essentially church architecture in that respect at least is a part of the ritual system. and if catholic worship is expressed and represented by catholic ritual, and if church architecture is a part of this ritual, then is church architecture itself an expression and exponent of catholic worship. a conclusion this which will well warrant the very strong language in which the cambridge camden society have always asserted the great importance of this art, and have exacted from its professors such qualifications of personal holiness and liturgical knowledge as are no less above the attainment than the aspirations of the modern school. it may not be clear to some how in any sense architecture can be called symbolical, or the outward sign of something invisible: or rather what the process is by which a given arrangement, suggested perhaps by some necessity, becomes in turn suggestive and figurative of the very purpose for which it was planned. but let us take the case of a theatre. here it is clearly necessary that there shall be a stage or orchestra, accommodation for spectators, and means of easy exit. {lvii} accordingly every theatre displays all these requisites. and does not the building then in turn emblem the purpose for which it was planned? the ruins of roman theatres are not uncommon: do we fail to be recalled by them to the idea of the roman stage? are not the several parts of the material building highly figurative and suggestive of the rules and orders of the abstract drama? with respect to churches: let us suppose the institution and ritual of the church to be what we know it was; and that we have to adapt some architectural arrangement to the performance of this ritual. is there anything which will dictate any general form rather than another? surely there is. we will not speak now of the propriety of setting aside a place for the celebration of the holy eucharist, or of the propriety of retaining the plan of the typical temple; but we are considering simply what is required by practical necessity. the worshippers who are to assemble in our church are not all on an equality. there are some who are endowed with high privileges as being those consecrated to the immediate service of the sanctuary. in early times so real a thing was the distinction between the clergy and the laity, that the church being divided into these two classes, the material edifice displayed a like division: and the nave and chancel preach to posterity the sacredness of holy orders, and the mutual duties arising from the relation in which the flock stand to their shepherds. but in early ages the laity were not all classed _en masse_ as with us now. among them were the faithful, the catechumens, who had not yet been admitted to holy baptism, and the penitents or those who had lapsed. true to itself, church architecture provided then a separate place for each of these divisions. does not the ground plan of such a church symbolise minutely the then state of church discipline and the {lviii} conditions of church worship? the reality and meaning of such an arrangement may be shown thus also. after the reformation the great distinction between clergy and laity became lost or undervalued: accordingly the chancel-screens in many places disappeared, as symbolical in their absence as in their existence. but still there was a necessity for some material arrangement to protect the altar from insult: and so altar rails came in, manifest symbols of that spirit which made their introduction allowable, if indeed not necessary: [footnote 19] still these very rails, and the penned up reading-pew, teach that the clergy, at least when performing a function, are divided from the laity. [footnote 19: in the correspondence of the rev. w. humphrey, whose atrocious treatment by the church missionary society has so lately excited the indignation of all true churchmen, it appears that one of the noble designs of this zealous priest was to restore for the peculiar congregation over which he was appointed, consisting of faithful, catechumens, and unbelievers, the distinct arrangement of the ancient church: the modern plan of having but one area for the lay worshippers being found inconvenient and injurious. that is to say, our modern church arrangement may suit and does symbolise the present state of the church with us, but does not suit and does not symbolise the state of the missionary church of india.] now it is of no consequence whatever, whether the early builders of churches intended this particular arrangement to be symbolical. the arrangement being adopted becomes necessarily, even if unintentionally, symbolical, by the process we have endeavoured to trace, and so things essentially symbolical give rise to intended symbolism: for it is a simple historical fact that the weathercock, whatever practical utility may have first suggested its use and peculiar form, has been for many centuries placed on the church spire for its _intentional symbolism_. [footnote 20]and the process is repeated: for suppose one only of the conventional symbolical meanings of the weathercock had been discovered: the thoughtful mind {lix} goes on to find out other figurative senses in which its use is appropriate, and these conventional meanings become in their turn intentionally symbolised by future church builders. this may be illustrated also in the following way: the jews, in the rite of baptism, had probably no other idea than a reference to 'the mystical washing away of sins.' but when s. paul had once given to that rite the new idea of a burial with christ in the baptismal water, and a rising again with him, this typical meaning became an example of intended symbolism to all those who should hereafter use it. [footnote 20: see rationale, p. 27.] as we began this part of our subject with hesitation, so we finish it with some degree of apprehension. to some what has been said may seem more than ordinarily visionary and ridiculous: yet others, we hope, will feel that, however feebly and inadequately expressed, there is some truth in what has been advanced concerning the relation between the material and immaterial: that the latter welding and moulding the former into an expression of itself, makes it in turn a type of that which it expresses. so that if on the one hand, to take our particular branch of the subject, the theoretical ritual and ordinances of religion imply and require certain peculiar adaptations of the material building in which they are to be celebrated; then in turn the circumstances of the material fabric suggest and symbolise the peculiar conditions of ritual which induced them. in short we have endeavoured to prove that from our very nature every outward thing is symbolical of something inward and spiritual: but, above all things, outward religious actions are sacramental; and particularly _any_ prescribed ritual, of which the first characteristic is that it is figurative: that the catholic ritual is eminently symbolical, and from its nature very strikingly influences all its material appliances: that church architecture is the {lx} eldest daughter of ritual: that the process, according to which architecture was influenced by the requirements of ritualism was at first as simple as that by which the form of a theatre sprang from the conditions which were to be fulfilled by its builder: that thus a church (built in the fully developed style of christian architecture) even if not built with any intention of symbolising, (though it is an historical fact that the symbolism of each part was known and received _before_ the erection of any church of this style,) became nevertheless essentially a 'petrifaction of our religion': a fact which, once admitted and realised, becomes to succeeding church builders, whether they will or not, a rule and precedent for intentional symbolical design. {lxi} chapter v the analytical argument we must arrive at the same conclusion, if we consider the subject in an analytical way. for example: suppose a person, hitherto unacquainted not only with the general peculiarities of christian churches, but also with christianity itself, were to enter a cathedral; or (which will be a fairer case) were to visit a catholic country, and examine its churches as a whole, would he not, if possessed of only ordinary intelligence, observe that the cross form, for example, was of most common occurrence, and, in the case of the larger buildings, was perhaps the only plan adopted? and would he not then naturally inquire why there should be this marked preference for a form, in itself inconvenient for purposes of hearing or seeing, [footnote 21] and open to great mechanical objections, such as the almost resistless pressure of the four arms on the piers which stand at the angles of intersection? [footnote 21: that is, a catholic _arrangement_ of the church being presumed.] but if he learnt that the religion for which these temples were designed was that of the cross, he would at once see the propriety of this ground plan, and would confidently and truly conclude that this form was chosen in order to bring the cross, by this symbolism, vividly and constantly before the eyes of the worshippers. to deny intended symbolism, in the case of such a person, would {lxii} clearly be absurd: shall it be less obvious to us? our traveller would probably, being satisfied on this point, examine these buildings more closely. he would find an altar raised conspicuously above the surrounding level; and for this he might discover a practical reason; but why in so many cases (so many as well nigh to make a rule) are the steps either _three_ or some multiple of three? surely the fundamental doctrine of the holy trinity would, if explained to him, sufficiently account for this all but universal arrangement. why, again, in every case does a screen separate one part of the church from the other? when our inquirer learns the principle of the separation of laity and clergy, this arrangement also will be at once intelligible and figurative. how unreasonable would the position of the font by the door appear to him, till he learnt the symbolical reason for its being placed there! and we may here remark that the practice of the last generation in removing old fonts, or using basins for substitutes, or in placing new fonts, near the altar, shows clearly enough that convenience and utility would have pointed out a very different place for the font from what is assigned by the canon, on symbolical grounds; grounds adduced in this case, as it would seem, to give weight to a decision so clearly opposed to all merely practical and obvious reasons. again, the marked deviation of the orientation of the chancel from that of the nave, would be quite inexplicable till the beautiful and affecting symbolism of the arrangement were pointed out. again, it has not been left merely to the meditative ecclesiologist to observe that christian architecture has as decided a characteristic of verticality, as pagan architecture had of horizontalism. a mere artist could not fail of marking the contrast between beauvais and the temples of paestum. {lxiii } the contrast must then be admitted: but how must we explain it? surely no accident could have developed the grovelling pagan into the aspiring gothic. what mechanical reasons could produce westminster from even the parthenon? but is not the phenomenon explained when we see in towering pier, spire, and pinnacle, the symbolical exhibition of that religion which alone aspires to things above, nay more, the figurative commemoration of that resurrection itself, which alone originates, and only justifies, the same heavenward tendency. but if this be true; if these acknowledged peculiarities in christian architecture be utterly unintelligible on any other supposition than this of a symbolical meaning, surely it is not unreasonable to receive so ready a solution of the difficulty: and, the principle admitted, why may not reasons of the same figurative nature be assigned for other arrangements, in themselves on any other interpretation not only meaningless but obviously useless or absurd? {lxiv} chapter vi the inductive argument we have next to show, by a process of induction, that some principles of symbolism have always been observed in designing churches: that is to say, that without any actual acquaintance with the plan, details or arrangement of existing churches, we might gather from other sources, not only the probability, but the fact, that there was some reason (not merely mechanical or accidental) for the selection and universal observation of particular forms and ornaments, and peculiar rules of distribution. first, we shall refer to the celebrated passage of s. clement of rome, [footnote 22] about performing the divine offices decently and in order, as to time, and place, and circumstance. 'where and by whom god willeth these to be performed he hath himself defined by his most supreme will.' 'but where,' says mede, [footnote 23] (discussing the passage with the view of establishing a particular point, namely, bowing towards the altar) 'hath the lord defined these things, unless he hath left us to the analogy of the old testament?' [footnote 22: s. clem. rom., ad corinth. i, 40.] [footnote 23: mede, in epist. lviii folio, lib. iv.] {lxv} this indeed is obviously s. clement's meaning: and not to go at any length into the consideration of all the particular forms or ceremonies of the old dispensation which were perpetuated in the new--as the threefold ministry deduced by s. jerome, from the high priest, priests, and levites; the canonical hours; the gospel anciently laid on the altar, answering to the two tables, and the like--it will be sufficient to refer once more to the remarkable parallel between a christian church and the jewish temple. [footnote 24] there can be little doubt that mede proved his point of the propriety of genuflexion towards the altar. we are contending for a much simpler thing: for no more indeed than the concession of a probability that in the earliest christian churches there was at least this resemblance to the temple; that there should be in both a holy of holies and an outer-court. supposing this distinction to have been only made by a curtain, our point is nevertheless gained; and we would rest here on this one particular of resemblance only (though others might be insisted on); because, any one designed parallel being granted, the inference for others is easy. and here it will be enough to observe that the almost constant practice in ancient writers of applying to some one part of a christian church a name or names derived directly from the _holy of holies_ is a strong argument in our favour: though the passages are often too incidental to be adduced as evidence of an intended symbolism. [footnote 25] but, we repeat, the fact that a particular part of a church--(if we were now arguing for rood screens, we {lxvi} should show that any such distinction of parts made a _screen of some sort_ necessary, even if we did not know what sort of screens really existed)--the fact that a particular part of a church was distinguished by names directly carrying us back to the exactly corresponding particular part in the temple, shows that in the arrangement at least, if not in the building, of the earliest churches there was, at least in this one point, an intention to produce an antitype to the typical tabernacle. it is observed in a note to neander's history [footnote 26] that if the interpretation of michaelis be received there is evidence of a christian church being built at edessa, a.d. 202, with three parts, expressly after the model of the temple. [footnote 24: see this carried out by durandus. appendix a.] [footnote 25: compare, amongst others, s. cyprian, ep. 55; euseb. x, 4. [greek text]; id. vii, 18. [greek text] (the word used in the lxx for the _sanctuary_)'. s. dionys. areop., ep. 8, ad demoph.; s. athanas., _edit, commel._ tom. ii, p. 255; theod. h. e. iv, 17, v, 18; concil. tours. (a. d. 557). can. 4; s. germ. constant. _in theor. rer. eccles._; card. bona. _rer liturg._i, xxv, ii; dionys. _hierarch._ cap. 2; s. chrysost. lib vi, _de sacerdotio._] [footnote 26: rose's neander, i, 246.] whatever may be the authority allowed to the apostolical constitutions, the fact that they touch at some length upon the form of churches is enough for our purpose. 'the church,' [footnote 27] they say, 'must be oblong in form, and pointing to the east' the oblong form was meant to symbolise a ship, [footnote 28] the ark which was to save us from the stormy world. it would be perfectly unnecessary to support this obvious piece of symbolism by citations. the orientation is an equally valuable example of intended symbolism. we gain an additional testimony to this from the well-known passage of tertullian, [footnote 29] (a.d. 200,) about 'the house of our dove.' whether this corrupt extract be interpreted with mede or bingham, there can be no doubt that its {lxvii} _in lucem_ means that the church should face the east or dayspring. the praying towards the east was the almost invariable custom in the early churches, and as symbolical as their standing in prayer upon the festivals of the resurrection. [footnote 30] so common was orientation in the most ancient churches, that socrates [footnote 31] mentions particularly the church at antioch as having its 'position reversed; for the altar does not look to the east but to the west.' this rule appears to have been more scrupulously followed in the east than in the west; though even in europe examples to the contrary are exceptions. [footnote 27: apost. const, 2, 57, (61.)] [footnote 28: see also what is said on this point by buscemi, in his notizie della basilica di san pietro, ch. iii, p. 7. the church of ss. vincenzo and anastatio at rome, near s. paolo alle tre fontane, built by honorius i, (a.d. 630) has its wall _curved_ like the ribs of a ship. the constitution itself refers to the resemblance of this oblong form to a ship. see also s. clem. alex., _paedag_, iii, 246.] [footnote 29: tertull. advers. valent., cap. 2.] [footnote 30: see origen, _hom_. 5, in _numer_. cap, 4. tertull. _apol_. cap. 16, and _ad nation_, i, 13. s. clem. alex. _strom_, vii, _ante med._ quoted by mede.] [footnote 31: hist. eccles. lib. v, cap. [greek text].] the apostolical constitution in its other directions about the position of the bishop, priests, and deacons, and the separate stations for the sexes, shows (as father thiers [footnote 32] has remarked) that there was even then a marked distinction between the clergy and laity though the method of division is not described. at any rate, what has been here adduced--compiled from notes taken some time since for another object, and without access (from accidental circumstances) to a library--seems enough to show that in the earliest notices of christian churches there is distinct intimation of at least three particulars of intended symbolism. [footnote 32: thiers, _dissert, de la clôture du choeur des eglises._cap. 2.] the circular form given to the church of the holy sepulchre was of course appropriate enough in that particular case, where the sepulchre would naturally become the centre. the circular churches of europe were again imitated from this. the cross form would appear to have made its first appearance in constantinople: that is, in the city which was the first to take a completely christian character. {lxviii} for example, the church of the apostles built by constantine was cruciform: and the symbolism of this is pointed out by s. gregory nazianzen in his poem, 'the dream of anastasia,' quoted by bingham. [footnote 33] so evagrius describes the church of s. simon stylites, as cited by buscemi, [footnote 34] who also mentions a cross church founded by king childebert, about the year 550. the cathedral of clermont, mentioned by s. gregory of tours, and the church of ss. nazarius and celsus at ravenna, both founded about 450, were cruciform. more than this, we have examples of an oblong church being _intentionally_ made cruciform by the addition of _apsides_, as at blachernoe by justin junior, instanced by bingham out of cedrenus and zonaras. this has been remarked also in the case of some italian churches: though the early churches of the west seemed to have retained the oblong form, even when the details and general arrangement were byzantine, as in the _capella regia_ at messina; the more remarkable from the peculiar influence of constantinople in the island of sicily. but in either case there was a symbolising intention on the part of the founders of churches. [footnote 33: carm. ix, tom ii, p. 79. [greek text]] [footnote 34: notizie etc. note al lib. 1, capo terzo. nota 10 p. 15.] there is mention also of octagonal churches, as at antioch and nazianzum: but these seem to have been mere exceptions; and perhaps from being coupled with fonts in the inscription quoted by mr. poole from gruter, may have been intended to symbolise regeneration. the first two lines are as follows:- octachorum sanctos templum surrexit in usus: octagonus fons est munere dignus eo. {lxix} bingham mentions that the oblong form was sometimes called [greek text] which he explains as intimating that they had void spaces for deambulation. [footnote 35] it seems however more likely that the name was derived from the resemblance between this form of church and a stadium; the apsidal end answering to the curve round the goal. [footnote 35: book viii, 3, following leo allatius and suicer.] some objection may be raised to our theory because bingham, from whom of course almost all the existing passages in ancient writers about the form of churches might be gathered, does not recognise any such principles, and rather seems on the other hand to believe that there was at first no rule or law on these points. but it is not detracting from his fame for almost consummate learning to question whether his practical knowledge of church architecture, ancient or modern, was very deep. it might be shown indeed to be far otherwise. but at any rate the principle now contended for never entered his mind, or he would have seen that some of the very passages he adduces to show that the form of ancient churches was accidental, because (for example) they were often made out of basilicae or even heathen temples, really tell against such a supposition. he quotes from socrates [footnote 36] a description of the conversion of a pagan island to christianity, about 380, and the turning the heathen temple into a church. but the words of the original, given in our note, are very remarkable: 'the guise of the temple they transformed unto the type (or pattern) of a church.' we want to prove nothing more than that there was _some_ type of a church. it was not a mere ejection of idols that was required to make a temple into a church: but some change of form and arrangement. so also in a passage from sozomen (vii, 15), 'the temple of dionysus which {lxx} they had, was changed in fittings ([greek text]) into a church.' again, a very interesting passage about the conversion of iberia by means of a female captive in the time of constantine is cited from theodoret, [footnote 37] to show that churches _did exist_ at that date. but we find a particular form of building clearly alluded to in the original: and, more than this, 'he who filled bezaleel with a wise spirit for building, judged this captive also worthy of grace, so as to design the divine temple. and so she designed, and they built.' and this passage brings us at once to the famous panegyric on paulinus, bishop of tyre, and builder of the church there preserved by eusebius. in this speech the prelate is throughout supposed to have been inspired for his work, and is compared to bezaleel, solomon and zerubbabel, the builders of the tabernacle, and the first and second temples. and not only is the general spirit assumed to be a directly religious one: but the details are described as having a symbolical meaning. [footnote 36: socrates iv, 24, [greek text].] [footnote 37: theodoret i. xxiv. [greek text]] in the comparison between the material temple and the 'living temple' the spiritual church, there are several points worthy of observation. the symbolical explanation of the corner stone as our lord, of the foundation as the apostles and prophets, of the stones as the members of the church, are of course taken directly from holy scripture. it is scarcely necessary to remark the great authority for considering the fabric of the church as symbolical which these passages convey. many of our readers will remember how s. hermas carries out into considerable detail the same idea. but the panegyrist in eusebius distinctly refers to 'the most {lxxi} inward recesses [of that spiritual temple] which are unseen of the many, and are essentially holy and holy of holies'; [footnote 38] that is, of course, to a sanctuary; which he goes on to describe as having 'sacred inclosures,' and as being accessible to the priest alone; with a distinct reference to s. paul's [footnote 39] illustration taken from the jewish temple. again he proceeds to compare the bishop paulinus with the 'great high priest,' not only in being permitted to enter the holy of holies, but in doing what christ has done, just as the son did what he saw the father do. 'thus he, looking with the pure eyes of his mind unto the great teacher, whatsoever he seeth him doing, as if making use of archetypal patterns, has, by building ([greek text]) as much like them as possible, wrought out images of them as closely as can be; having in no respect fallen short of bezaleel, whom god himself, having filled him with the spirit of wisdom and knowledge and other skilful and scientific lore, called to be the builder of the material expression of the heavenly types in the symbols of the temple. in this way then paulinus also, carrying wholly like a graven image in his soul christ himself, the word, the wisdom the light . . . has constructed this magnificial temple of the most high god, resembling in its nature the pattern of the better (temple) as a visible (emblem) of that which is invisible.' [footnote 40] [footnote 38: euseb. h. e., x, 4, 21.] [footnote 39: hebrews, ix, 6, 7.] [footnote 40: euseb. x, iv, 24, 25.] this remarkable passage appears to assert (i) the inspiration of the architect, (ii) the fact of this heavenly type, which (iii) material churches ought to follow; and (iv) the general symbolism of the spiritual church by the visible fabric. we must pass over a great deal of this oration, with a general request that such as are interested in this discussion will read the whole in the original for the sake of seeing its general spirit and bearing. {lxxii } the description of the details is of great interest. the arrangement of the porticoes, etc., is of course quite adapted to the wants of the church in that age: it is fair to own that the chief entrance appears to have faced the east in this church. mention is made also of seats in order for the bishops and presbyters, and of the altar in the midst: the whole being encompassed with wooden network, exquisitely worked, in order to be made inaccessible to the multitude. [footnote 41] further on [footnote 42] we read that paulinus rebuilt his church, 'such as he had been taught from the delineation of the holy oracles.' and again, 'more wonderful than wonders are the _archetypes_, and the intelligent and godlike _prototypes_ and _patterns_ (of earthly church building): namely, i say, the renewing of the divine and reasonable building in the soul'; [footnote 43] assuming that material churches are but copies from some heavenly type. again, a passage, in which the ruined fabric and the persecuted church are mixed up, speaks of the church as 'having been made after the image of god,' [footnote 44] and more to the same effect. the symbolical prophecy of the 'fair edification' of the gentile church [footnote 45] is quoted as being almost literally fulfilled in the tyrian church, and is still further symbolised by the panegyrist. [footnote 46] the four-square atrium is said to set forth the four gospels of the scripture. [footnote 47] [footnote 41: euseb. h. e., x, 43] [footnote 42: ibid 53.] [footnote 43: ibid 54.] [footnote 44: ibid 57.] [footnote 45: isaiah liv, 11.] [footnote 46: euseb. x. iv, 60.] [footnote 47: ibid 61.] the whole arrangement of the church is symbolised at much length, as setting forth the different divisions of the laity and the states of the faithful with respect to advance in holiness. the great portico symbolised god the father: the side porticoes the other two persons of the most holy trinity. the seats represented the souls of the faithful, upon which, {lxxiii} as on the day of pentecost, the cloven tongues would descend and _sit_ upon each of them. 'the revered and great and only altar, what could this be but the spotlessness of soul and holiness of holies of the common priest of us all?' [footnote 48] once more, the parallel between the spiritual and the material churches being continued, the word, the great demiurgus of all things, is said to have himself made upon earth a copy of the heavenly pattern which is the church of the firstborn written in heaven, jerusalem that is above, sion the mount of god, and the city of the living god. [footnote 48: euseb. h. e., x, 65.] it appears then that throughout this description a symbolical meaning is found attached to the material church: and this not far-fetched or now first fancifully imagined; but appealing, as it seems, to what the auditors would be prepared to grant, and admitted by the historian without a comment, as one specimen of a class. we have before remarked that every notice of the particular distribution of a church for the reception of the different classes of christians, may be taken as an argument on our side: for if it can be shown that the form of churches was not arbitrary, but was adapted to certain peculiar wants, it must be granted that there was some particular law of design, and that law connected with ritual: and then, as before pointed out, this arrangement becomes itself symbolical, and that _intentionally_. we shall only refer here to a passage quoted by bingham, [footnote 49] in which s. gregory thaumaturgus describes the places in church assigned respectively to the five degrees of penitents. mede [footnote 50] argues for the _existence_ of churches in the first three centuries, from the universal custom of praying towards the east, the necessity of {lxxiv} providing distinct places for the penitents, hearers, catechumens, and faithful, and from the patterns of the jewish _proseuchae_ and synagogues. but all these arguments seem to tell as much for some particular form of churches as for their existence: that is they prove that the earliest churches were designed on rules which, even if not intentionally symbolical (though we have shown that many were so), became by a natural process intentional among later church-builders. [footnote 49: greg. nyssen, iii, 567.] [footnote 50: discourse of churches, folio edn., p. 333.] so also with respect to the great division into nave and sanctuary by a screen of some sort: concerning which the passages that might be cited from ancient writers would be innumerable. we shall only give one quoted by father thiers from a poem of s. gregory of nazianzum, in which the _balustrade_ or rood-screen is said to be 'between two worlds, the one immovable, the other changeful; the one of gods (or heaven) the other of mortals (or earth); that is to say between the choir and the nave, between the clergy and the laity.' we have attempted to prove then that the earliest christian churches were designed, or described, symbolically: by showing that there was a reason for their shape, whether oblong, cruciform, or circular; for their main division into choir and nave, and their subdivision for the penitents: for their orientation; and even to some extent for their minor internal arrangements: and that some type or pattern of a church was universally recognised. [footnote 51] [footnote 51: much stress is laid by some on the acknowledged bascilican origin of churches as an argument against the principle here contended for. but we find a great authority on the antiquities of christian rome deciding differently: 'there seems to be in the building of churches, as in the mosaics, and other works of art of the old christian times in rome one constant type in which the art of building could show little freedom or variety.-_beschreibung der stadt rom. basiliken._vol, i, p. 430.] {lxxv} it would require more reading than we can boast of to give a catena of writers who have asserted the symbolism of churches. but if the point has been in any way proved for the first four centuries, enough will have been done: since from that period we can trace from existing edifices the gradual relinquishment of the peculiar basilican plan, and general adoption of the latin cross, or oblong, in the west, while the east consistently retained the greek cross. we observe it stated [footnote 52] that mr. e. sharpe, in a paper read before the cambridge camden society, described the gradual _typical_ additions' to the basilican ground plan. indeed symbolism, to any extent, once made known, must have become a rule and precedent to later church architects. [footnote 52: ecclesiologist, vol. i, p. 120.] s. isidore, of seville, incidentally mentions many symbolical arrangements: they will be found in the notes to the text of the rationale. many pieces of symbolism are to be found incidentally in the decretum of gratian. in mentioning durandus himself, it seems proper to anticipate an objection which may occur to some readers. the authority, it may be said, of that writer must be very small who can give such absurd derivations as _cemeterium_ from _cime, altare_ from _alta res, allegory_ from _allon_ and _gore_. but it must be remembered, firstly, that in the thirteenth century, greek was a language almost unknown in europe: next, that our author nowhere professes an acquaintance with it: further, that the science of derivation was hardly understood till within the last few years: and lastly, that cicero's authority led durandus into some errors; for instance, his derivation of _templum_ from _tectum amplum_. one proof of the _reality_ of durandus's principles we must not fail to notice. it is the express allusion which he makes to, and the graphical description which he {lxxvi} gives of, that which we know to have been the style of architecture employed in his time. the tie beams, the deeply splayed windows, the interior shafts, all prove that we are engaged with a writer of early english date. it is very remarkable, that durandus, s. isidore, beleth, and the rest, seem to quote from some canons of church symbolism now unknown to us. their words are often, even where they are not very connected nor intelligible, the same. one example may suffice. 'in that this rod,' says hugh of s. victor, 'is placed above the cross, it is shown that the words of scripture be consummated and confirmed by the cross: whence our lord said in his passion, "it is finished." _and his title was indelibly written over him_' (p. 200). 'in that the iron rod,' says durandus, 'is placed above the cross, on the summit of the church, it signifieth that holy scripture is now consummated and confirmed. whence saith our lord in his passion, "it is finished," _and that title is written indelibly over him_(p. 28). the following, by way of another instance, is the symbolical [footnote 53] description of a church, written on a fly-leaf, at the beginning of a ms. 'psalterium glossatum,' in the public library at boulogne, though formerly in that of s. bertin's abbey, at s. omer. [footnote 53: _british magazine_, 1843, p. 393.] the text is either of the tenth or eleventh century; but it will be seen that the words of durandus, writing at so great a distance of time and place, are nearly the same in some passages. fundamentum ipsius camerae est fides. altitudo ejus est spes. latitudo ejus est caritas. longitudo ejus est perseverantia. latera ejus sunt concordia et pax. {lxxvii} frontes ipsius sunt justicia & veritas. pulchritudo ejus est exemplum bonorum operum. fenestrae ejus sunt dicta sanctorum. pavimentum ejus est humilitas cordis. camera est conversatio coelestis. pilastri ejus sunt spiritales virtues. columnae ejus sunt boni pontifices & sacerdotes. interlegatio ejus est vinculum pacis. tectum ejus est fidelis dispensator. * isces ejus sunt mediatio celestis. mensa christi est in camera bona conversatio. ministerium christi in camera sua est bona memoria. facinus christi est bona voluntas. canterellus christi est nitor conscientiae. cathedra christi est serenitas mentis. sponsa christi est sancta anima. camerariae christi spiritales virtutes sunt: prima sancta caritas dicta est; illa christi regit cameram. secunda est sancta humilitas; illa est thesauraria in camera christi tertia est sancta patientia; illa facit luminaria in camera christi. quarta sancta puritas; illa scopat cameram christi. but besides, and in our opinion stronger than this express and continuous testimony to the fact that catholic architecture is symbolical, we have the testimony of all other branches of catholic art, which none ever did, or could deny to be figurative and sacramental. let us take merely the rites which accompany the close of easter week. we enter a darkened church, illuminated only by the lighted 'sepulchre': we hear the history of the passion chaunted by three voices in three recitatives: we have the most mournfully pathetic strain for the 'reproaches' which perhaps the human mind ever imagined:--we pray for pagans--and we kneel; we pray for turks--and we kneel; we pray for the jews, and we kneel not; in abhorrence of the mockery that bowed the knee to the king of the jews. we enter that church again, now perfectly darkened, except for the one lamp that renders the lectern and the books {lxxviii} thereon just visible: the solemn litanies seem in that obscurity, and amidst the silent crowd of worshippers, more solemn than usual. there is a short pause: then in one second, priests and people, voices and instruments, burst forth with the easter alleluia: light pours in from every window of the cathedral: showers of rose leaves fall from the roof: bells--silent for three long days, peal from every church tower: guns fire and banners wave: _dominus resurrexit vere, alleluia, et apparuit sinioni alleluia_. now, without being concerned to defend, or the contrary, any or all of these ceremonies, we ask:--is it possible to conceive that the church which invented so deeply symbolical a system of worship--should have rested content with an unsymbolical building for its practice? this consideration, perhaps, belongs to the analogical branch of our essay: yet it may also find a place here, as one of the strongest parts of the inductive argument. seeing then that there are strong reasons _à priori_ for believing that the ritual and architecture of the church would partake of a decidedly symbolical character: that by the analogy of the practice amongst all religionists, of the operations of god in nature, of the conditions of art, and especially of the whole sacramental system of the church, it is likely that church architecture itself would be sacramental: that from the nature of things everything material is in some sort sacramental, and a material fabric essentially figurative of the purpose for which it was designed: that an actual christian church (taken as we find it) has such accidents as can be explained on no other than a symbolical supposition, and might be analysed into just those elements from which, by induction, we first constructed an hypothetical christian church: and lastly, that from express and {lxxix} continuous historical testimony without any actual acquaintance with existing fabrics we might have deduced that the material church would be itself, to some extent, a figurative expression of the religion for the celebration of which it was constructed: it does not seem too much to assert that christian architecture owes its distinctive peculiarities to its sacramental character, and that consequently we can neither appreciate ancient examples nor hope to rival them, at least in their perfection, without taking into account this principle of their design. in other words, the cause of that indefinable difference between an ancient and modern church which we were led to discover at the beginning of this treatise, is neither association of ideas nor correctness of detail, nor picturesqueness, nor of a mechanical nature, but (in the most general point of view) is the sacramentality, the religious symbolism, which distinguished and sanctified this as every other branch of mediaeval art. {lxxx} chapter vii examples of symbolism in endeavouring shortly to develop the practice of symbolism, according to our view of the subject, we are fully aware that to those who have never yet bestowed a thought upon it, we shall appear mere visionaries or enthusiasts. it has been the fashion of late to smile at the whole theory, as amusing and perhaps beautiful: but quite unpractical and indeed impracticable. we cannot hope to convince by aesthetics those who are deaf to more direct arguments, and who refuse to view everything, as churchmen ought to do, through the medium of the church. but those who agree with us in the latter duty, will perhaps suffer themselves to think twice on what will be advanced before they condemn it. we shall consider the practice of symbolism as connected with, 1. the holy trinity; 2. regeneration; 3. the atonement; 4. the communion of saints; and then we shall notice several parts of a church, such as windows, doors, etc., with their specific symbolical meaning. the doctrine of the holy trinity has left, as might be expected, deeper traces in the structure of our churches than any other principles of our faith. we have already noticed that possibly the basilican arrangement might be providentially ordered with reference to this. {ixxxi} in saxon times we find the idea carried out, not only by the nave and two aisles, but also by the triple division in length, into nave, chancel, and sanctum sanctorum. this triple division is most frequently given in norman buildings, by a central tower; with chancel and nave: we also find in this style a triple chancel arch, an arrangement never occurring at a later epoch. thus length and breadth were made significant of this mystery; nor was height less so. the clerestory, the triforium, and the piers cannot fail to suggest it. indeed, where a triforium was not needed, there is often, as at exeter and wells, an arrangement of arcading in niches to resemble it, made that the triplicity might be retained. it is only in late perpendicular, such as the nave of canterbury cathedral, that the arrangement is omitted: there the eye is at once dissatisfied. again, the triple orders of moulding, which are so much more frequent than any other number, may be supposed to refer to the same thing. the altar steps, three, or some multiple of three, certainly do. so do the three fingers with which episcopal benediction is given. and this is a very early symbolism. it occurs in illuminated ms. we may mention one (harl. 5540) of the thirteenth century, where it forms a part of the first letter of s. john's gospel. so, as we shall presently see, are eastern triplets. and reference is constantly made to the same doctrine in bosses: we may mention as a remarkable instance one that occurs in stamford, s. mary's, a figure with an equilateral triangle in its mouth: thereby setting forth the duty of the preacher to proclaim the doctrine of the trinity. in large churches, the three towers undoubtedly proclaim the same doctrine. we shall hereafter show that neither in nave and aisles, in triplets, or any thing else, is the _inequality_ any thing else than what might have been expected. {lxxxii} ii. the doctrine of regeneration we know, as a fact, that from the earliest times, baptisteries and fonts were octagonal. we know also that the reason assigned, if not by s. ambrose himself at least by one of his contemporaries, for this form was, that the number eight was symbolical of regeneration. for as the old creation was complete in seven days, so the number next ensuing may well be significative of the new. now none can deny that very much the greater number of fonts are in this shape. to prove this we will refer to those selected by the cambridge camden society in the appendix to the second edition of their 'few words to church-builders.' there we find. octagonal. of all other shapes in norman 15 43 early english 19 30 decorated 24 1 perpendicular 57 2 total 115 76 now, it is to be remembered, that the superior convenience of a cylindrical or circular form, together with the wont of norman architects rather to symbolise facts than doctrine, accounts for the comparatively small number of octagonal fonts in that style: in later ages their preponderance is overwhelming. the symbolism sculptured on the sides of the font hardly falls under our consideration in this place. and besides, it has been fully detailed in the publications of the cambridge camden society, and of mr. poole. whether the general octagonal uses of piers may not arise from a similar design, we do not pretend to decide. {lxxxiii} one of the most apposite illustrations in _corbels_, consists in three fishes intertwined in an equilateral triangle; and thus typifying our regeneration in the three persons of the ever-blessed trinity. for it need not be said, that the fish is the emblem of the christian, as being born again of water. the mystical vesica piscis of this form () wherein the divinity, and (more rarely) the blessed virgin are represented has no reference, except in its name to a fish; but represents the almond, the symbol of virginity, and self-production. iii. the atonement we will notice in the third place, the symbolical representation of the great doctrine of the atonement, in the ground lines and general arrangement of our churches. as soon as ever christianity possessed temples of her own, the cruciform shape was, we have seen, sometimes adopted. and so, as we all know, has it continued down to the present day. england, perhaps, has fewer examples of cross churches than any other country: the proportion of those which bear this shape being not so much as one in ten. in france, on the contrary, the ratio would probably be inverted. into the reason of this remarkable difference we shall not now inquire: but will merely remark, that many churches which do not, in an exterior view, appear cruciform, are nevertheless, from their internal arrangements, really so. the transepts do not project beyond the aisles: but have distinct transept arches, and a window of much larger dimensions than those in the aisles. this principally occurs in city churches, or where the founders were confined for want of room. and this is the case as well in churches which have aisles to the chancel, as in godalming, surrey, as where the nave alone has them, {lxxxiv} as in holy rood, southampton. they will be distinguished readily on the outside by the northern and southern gable. in some cathedral churches, there is a double cross: in york, this perhaps signifies the metro-political dignity of that church; in other cases, it was probably merely a method of imparting greater dignity to the building. some churches--though they are not frequent--are in the form of a greek cross: that is, the four arms are all of equal length. darlington, durham, is an example: in this case there is a central tower. in some, as at westminster, gloucester, and s. albans, the choir runs westward of the transept; in seville, almost the whole of the choir is locally in the nave; in others, as ely, it does not extend westward so far. these peculiarities, curious in themselves, do not affect the symbolism: and probably no modification of meaning is to be attached to them. mr. lewis has asserted, that in early churches, a cross was marked on the pavement, the upper part running into the chancel, the arms extending into the transepts, and the body occupying the nave. and some such arrangement, or rather the traces of it, we have ourselves perhaps noticed. the reason it was given up, was probably the anathema pronounced by the second oecumenical council, on those who should tread on that holy symbol. thus, in the ground plan, the cross of christ was preached. it is often said, that the adjacent chapels, more especially the lady chapel, obscured the symbolism. but it must be remembered that a ground plan can only be judged of in two methods: either from a height above, for example, the tower of the church; or when marked out on paper. it is surprising, in either of these cases, how easily the most complex cathedral resolves itself to the spectator's eyes into a cross. {lxxxv} in looking at the details of churches, the cross is marked on the dos-d'ânes and plain coffin lids of the earliest times: it commences the later inscriptions on brass: it surmounts pinnacle, and gable, and porch; it is often imprinted on the jambs of the principal entrance, showing the exact spot touched in the consecration with chrism, [footnote 54] and possibly having reference to the blood sprinkled at the passover on the door post: and finally, in a more august form, is erected in the churchyard. and here we may notice another curious and beautiful expression of catholic feeling. [footnote 55] [footnote 54: it is proper to distinguish between dedication crosses, which are generally of considerable size, examples of which may be seen in moorlinch, somersetshire, and those small crosses in door jambs, as in preston, sussex, the use of which is not very clear, but which were perhaps intended to remind the entering worshipper to cross himself. at yatton, somersetshire, inside the northern door, and towards the east, is a large quatrefoil-fashioned cross: this perhaps pointed out a now destroyed benatura.] [footnote 55: that there are some plain crosses, cannot be denied--more especially that on which the weathercock is placed. a little consideration will, perhaps, clear up this difficulty. the cross may be viewed in two distinct lights. it may either set forth that on which our redeemer suffered--in which case it is the symbol of glory: or it may image that cross which every true christian is to take up--in which case it may still be called the symbol of shame. in the latter signification, it may well be quite plain. but, inasmuch as our ancestors looked more to the passion of christ than to their own unworthiness, the former symbol is that which generally occurs. yet not always on the church spire, perhaps for this reason:--the spire urges us, by its upward tendency, to press on towards our heavenly home--a home which can only be reached by the cheerful bearing of that cross by means of which (as it were) it points. the cross therefore is here, with propriety, plain.] it is very uncommon to find a plain cross surmounting a church: the whole force of christian art has sometimes been expended in wreathing and embellishing the instrument of redemption: flowers, and figures, and foliage are lavished upon it. and why? because that which was once the by-word of pagans, the instrument of scorn and of suffering, has become the symbol of hope and of glory, of joy, and of eternal felicity; and its material expression has altered proportionately. {xxxvi} in that the arms frequently end in leaves and flowers, they signify the flourishing and continual increase of that church which was planted on mount calvary. the crown of thorns is sometimes wreathed around them: but so, that it should rather resemble a crown of glory. the instruments of the passion are, as every one knows, of the most ordinary occurrence. the commonest of these are--the cross, the crown of thorns, the spear, the scourge, the nails, and the sponge on the pole. but in the suffolk and somersetshire churches many others are added. their position is various: sometimes, as in stogumber, somersetshire, they appear amidst the foliage of a perpendicular capital: sometimes, as in the suffolk churches, they are found in the open seats: often in bosses, often in brasses, often in stained glass; and sometimes the angel that supports a bracket holds them portrayed on a shield. the five wounds are also often found. these are represented by a heart, between two hands and two feet, each pierced; or by a heart pierced with five wounds, as in a brass at king's college chapel, cambridge. the instruments of the passion may sometimes be seen amongst the volutes of the stem of the churchyard cross: examples occur at belleville, near havre, in normandy, and santa cruz, in madeira. again, the very position of our blessed saviour on the cross as represented in the great rood and in stained glass, is not without a meaning. in modern paintings, the arms are high above the head, the whole weight of the body seeming to rest upon them. and this, besides its literal truth, gives occasion to that miserable display of anatomical knowledge in which such pictures so much abound. the catholic representation pictures the arms as extended horizontally: thereby signifying how the saviour, when extended on the cross, embraced the {lxxxvii} whole world. [footnote 56] thus, as it ever ought to be, is physical sacrificed to moral truth. perhaps for a similar reason s. longinus is represented as piercing the right side, instead of the left: and in a representation of the five wounds, it is the right side of the breast that is pierced (as in a brass at southfleet, kent); that being the side of the greatest strength, and thereby typifying the strength of that love wherewith our redeemer loved us. [but this may be doubted. for it appears pretty clear that the ancient church considered the right side to have been that which was really pierced. according to modern ideas, the effusion of the water was not a miracle. s. john undoubtedly considered it not only a miracle, but one of the most extraordinary which he had to relate, seeming to stop the mouth of the objector by insisting on the fact, that he himself was an eye-witness.] in some old roods, a still further departure was made from literal truth: the saviour was represented on the cross, as a crowned king, arrayed in royal apparel. [footnote 57] and his figure was constantly represented as larger than that of his attendants, his blessed mother, and s. john, thereby signifying his immeasurable superiority over the highest of human beings. [footnote 56: however, in late stained glass, the modern position is sometimes found as in a crucifixion represented in the east window of the north aisle, in wiscombe church, somersetshire. ] [footnote 57: to this we may add the conventional representation of royal saints, such as s. edmund, wearing their kingly crowns during their passion. that such conventional symbolism is _natural_ to us may be shown by alluding (without irreverence in this connection) to the way in which kings are always figured with crown and orb in popular prints: and even, as in a sign-post at leighterton, gloucestershire, king charles ii, hiding himself in the royal oak, is arrayed in all the insignia of majesty.] another reference to the atonement will be found in the deviation which the line of the chancel often presents from that of the nave. it is sometimes to the north, but more frequently to the south. {lxxxviii} there are many more churches in which it occurs than those who have not examined the subject would believe: perhaps it is not too much to say that it may be noticed in a quarter of those in england. of our cathedrals, it is most strongly marked in york and lichfield: among the parish churches in which we have observed it, none have it so strongly as eastbourne and bosham, in sussex, and s. michael's at coventry: in all of which the most casual glance could not but detect the peculiarity of appearance it occasions. this arrangement represents the inclination of our saviour's head on the cross. in roods the head generally inclines to the left. mr. poole, after noticing the fact in york minster, seems inclined to attribute it to a desire of evading the old foundation lines of that church, which induced the builders to deviate a little from the straight line, rather than encounter the difficulty of removing this obstacle. but in the first place, however much modern church builders might bethink themselves of such an expedient, it is not at all in the character of the church architects of other days: and in the second, the explanation is applicable to york alone, one only out of many hundred churches so distinguished. iv. the communion of saints next, we will notice the effect which the doctrine of the communion of saints has exercised in the designs of churches. in the ground plan of small churches there is little which seems to bear on this subject. the principal references to departed saints occur in the stained glass, in the rood screen, in niches, in the canopies of monuments, and in brasses. monuments, in particular, often afford some beautiful ideas, among which we may notice {lxxxix} the angels which often are seated at the head of the effigy, supporting the helmet or pillow, and seeming to point out the care of angels for the saints. in cathedrals, however, the chapels have a very considerable effect upon the ground plan: though we cannot agree with mr. poole that such a modification of the principal lines of the building for the reception of these shrines and oratories, is necessarily uncatholic. he principally objects to the position of the lady chapel at the east end, above, as he expresses it, the high altar. now we believe the lady chapel to have occupied that place merely on grounds of convenience: not from any design--which it is shocking to imagine--of exalting the blessed virgin to any participation in the honours of the deity. sometimes, as at durham, this chapel is at the west end: in country churches, it generally occupied the east end of the north or south aisle: and sometimes is placed over the chancel, as in compton, surrey, compton martin, somerset, and darenth, kent; or over the porch, as at fordham, cambridgeshire. at bristol cathedral it is on the north side of the choir. that the position of the lady chapel at the east end adds greatly to the beauty of the building wall hardly be denied on a comparison of york, or lincoln, or peterborough with lichfield, _as it now is_. {xc} chapter viii examples of symbolism continued we come now, according to the plan we laid down, to speak of the symbolism of some particular features of a church, which do not fall so well under any of the four heads which we have been considering. and firstly, of windows. the primary idea shadowed forth in every one of the styles, is the saying of our lord to his disciples, _ye are the light of the world_. more simply set forth at first, this notion acquired, in the course of time, various methods of expression, and was subjected to different modifications; but we must retain it as the ground work or we shall be in danger of mistaking the true meaning of ancient church architects. in norman, then, and early english, the single lights north and south, set forth the apostles and doctors who have shined forth in their time as the lights of the church: and the rich pattern of flowerwork wherewith the stained glass in them was decked, represented the variety of graces in each. but to have symbolised the servants without the master, the members without the head, had been at variance with all the catholic church has ever practised. looking therefore to the east end, we behold that well-known feature, the triplet: setting {xci} forth the most holy and undivided trinity. [footnote 58] nor is this all: to denote that all the church has, and all she is, is from above, the string course, springing from the eastern triplet, runs round the whole church (often both within and without,) binding it, as it were, in and connecting every other light, with those at the east. again, the western door, as we shall see, symbolised christ: and two lights, typical of his two natures, are therefore generally placed over it. there are, undoubtedly, instances of western triplets: though we think that the camden society has well explained these. [footnote 58: we read, in the legend of s. barbara, that, being confined by her father in a room where were two windows only, she added a third, by way of setting forth this mystery.] in some cases, there is a series of couplets on each side of the church: and, taking the hint from durandus, we may interpret this arrangement of the mission of the apostles two and two. a series of triplets as in salisbury cathedral, and the lady chapel of bristol, is very rare: and, of course, not objectionable on any other grounds than that of the too cheap use of a most beautiful feature. so far all is simple: but as we approach the decorated style, the symbolism becomes excessively complicated. the principal doctrines of the catholic church are set forth in each window: and to unravel the whole of these is often a task of no small difficulty. we shall proceed to give a few examples, with the explanation which appears to us probable: entreating the reader to remember, that if in any instance our conjectures should appear unfounded, the failure of probability in one case throws no discredit on the others, and still less does it invalidate the system. durandus's silence on the language of tracery is easily explained by the consideration, that assign as late a date as we will to the {xcii} publication of his work, it came forth while the early english style was yet in existence: and his silence on triplets only proves, what is well known to ecclesiologists, that they are far less common in foreign than in our own architecture. in norman windows the wheel window is conspicuous. this, whether formed with the _radii_ like those of barfreston, or of the temple church, represent (as we shall presently observe that norman symbolism usually _does_ represent) an historical fact: namely, the martyrdom of s. catherine. the celebrity of this virgin martyr may tend to explain why she should be so far honoured: a celebrity which has descended to our own day in the common sign of the cat and wheel: as well as the firework so denominated. of norman triplets there are not many to which we can refer. the tower of winchester, however, presenting one on each face, is a noble example. the southeastern transept of rochester, though later, is equally in point: it contains two triplets, far apart, and one disposed above the other. the west front of s. etienne at caen is a well-known instance. the earliest symbolism of early english triplets represented the trinity alone; the trinity in unity was reserved for a somewhat later period. and this was typified by the hood moulding thrown across the three lights. at other times a quatre-foiled, or cinque-foiled, circle was placed at some little distance above the triplet: thus typifying the crown which befits the majesty of the king of kings. and the same crown is often exhibited above the western couplet. but, for as much as we are 'compelled by the christian verity to acknowledge every person by himself to be god and lord,' a crown is sometimes represented over each light of the triplet, as in wimborne minster. {xciii} another method of representing the same doctrine was by a simple equilateral triangle for a window: whether plain, of which there are many examples, or with the toothed ornament, as in the famous example at york minster. s. giles's at oxford has windows, the tracery of which will serve as an example of many: it has _three tre_-foiled lights, with _three_ quatre-foiled circles, arranged triangle-wise in the head. this type is a little varied in s. mary magdalene's church, in the same city, by the introduction of the ogee form. berkeley church has a wheel window containing _three_ quatre-foils: the three spaces left between them and the line being _tre_-foiled. the east windows of dunchurch and fen stanton have been explained in the publications of the cambridge camden society: the former in their 'few words to church-builders,' the latter in their illustrations of monumental brasses. part iv. the south transept of chichester cathedral is a glorious specimen of decorated symbolism. in the gable is a marygold, containing two intersecting equilateral _tri_-angles: the _six_ apices of these are _sex_-foiled; the interior _hex_-agon is beautifully worked in _six_ leaves. the lower window seven lights: in the head is an equilateral spherical _tri_-angle, containing a large _tre_foil, intersected by a smaller _tre_-foil. here we have the holy trinity, the divine attributes, the perfection of the deity. a window in merton college chapel has _three_ lights: with a circle in the head containing _six sex_-foils. broughton, oxon, has in the head of one of its windows a circle, containing two intersecting equilateral triangles, the _six_ apices, and _six_ spaces around, being _tre_-foiled. {xciv} the east end of lincoln, though far inferior to the south transept of chichester, is nevertheless highly symbolical. the east window of each of the aisles has _three_ lights, with _three_ foliated circles, disposed _triangle_-wise in the head. the great east window has eight lights in two divisions, each whereof has _three_ foliated circles in the head: and in the apex of the window is a circle containing seven foliations. the upper window has a circle of eight foliations in the head: and in the apex of the gable is an equilateral trefoil. the next element introduced was the consideration of the six attributes of the deity. one of the simplest examples was to be found in the west window of the north aisle of s. nicholas, at guildford: a plain circle, containing six _tre_-foils: these are arranged in two _tri_-angles, each containing _three tre_-foils, and the two sets are varied. the clerestory of lichfield cathedral (circ. 1300), is a series of spherical _tri_-angles, each containing _three tre_-foils. a similar clerestory occurs in the north-west transept of hereford cathedral, and the same idea is repeated in its triforium: a series of _three tre_-foiled lights, with _three_ circles in the head. the east end of lichfield symbolises most strikingly the same glorious doctrine. the apse is _tri_-gonal: the windows of each side are the same: each is of _three_ lights, with six _tre_-foils (emblematical of the six attributes) disposed above in the form of an equilateral _tri_-angle. the east end of chichester is rather earlier, but introduces yet another element. here we have a triplet: and at some height above it, a wheel-window of seven circles: symbolising therefore eternity and perfection. {xcv} the triforium and clerestory of carlisle are singular symbols of the doctrine of the trinity. the former has in each bay three adjacent equal lancets. the latter is a series of triplets; the central window in each being composed of three lights. we may observe, by the way, that three _adjacent_ equal lancets are hardly ever found, whatever the reason may be. we know but of three examples: in the churches of bosham, sussex, godalming, surrey, and s. mary-le-crypt, gloucester: and in all these cases they occupy the same position, the south east end of the chancel, or chancel aisle. dorchester church, oxfordshire, has for one of its windows an equilateral spherical triangle with three heads, or knops, one at each angle. we are now in a purely decorated age. and as one of its earliest windows we may mention that in the bishop of winchester's palace at southwark. it was a wheel, and contained two intersecting equilateral _tri_-angles: around them were _six sex_-foiled triangles the hexagon in the centre containing a star of _six_ greater and _six_ smaller rays. here, of course, the blessed trinity and the divine and human natures were set forth. [footnote 59] [footnote 59: we may perhaps be allowed to say a few words here on the subject of those singular windows which the cambridge camden society has called _lychnoscopes_. it appears, that in early english churches, the westernmost window on the south side of the chancel is both lower than, and in other ways (particularly by a transom) distinguished from the rest. it is sometimes merely a square aperture, as in some churches in the weald of sussex: sometimes a small ogee-headed light, as in old shoreham: sometimes, where the south side of the chancel is lighted by a series of lancets, the westernmost, as in chiddingfold, sussex, is transomed, where the others end, and carried down lower; sometimes the lower part appears to have been _originally_ blocked, as in kemerton, gloucestershire, and kingstone next lewes, sussex: sometimes there are remains of clamps, as at buckland, kent, sometimes of shutters. again, sometimes there are two, one north, the other south of the chancel: sometimes the same arrangement is found s.e. of the nave. on the other hand, it is never found in any but a parish church: never in late work: seldom is it ornamented. we will give a few remarkable instances. i. _dinder_, somersetshire. here there is a double lychnoscope, north and south: the date is late early english, and the specimen is unique from there being a rude moulding in the window arch. 2. _othery_, somersetshire. the lychnoscope itself is here blocked: it is square-headed, and of two lights: date probably early decorated. the church is cruciform, and a central perpendicular tower was subsequently erected. one of the diagonal buttresses is thrown out at a distance of some three feet from the window, so as to hide it: and an oblique square hole has been cut through the masonry of the buttress. this is the more remarkable, because there are stalls in the chancel, of perpendicular work, which would seem to render any window in that position useless. 3. _christon_, somersetshire. here, _almost close to the ground_, is a horizontal slit which appears never to have been glazed. this is an early norman church. so at albury, surrey, at the s.e. end of the south aisle. 4. _s. appolline_, guernsey. this church is of the same date as, or may be earlier than, the last. the windows are rude and square-headed slits: the lychnoscope is transomed. 5. _preston_, sussex. there are three windows in the south of the chancel, which rise one above the other, like sedilia, to the east. 6. _loxton_, somersetshire. this is an early english church with a south western tower serving as porch. from the eastern side of this a long slit is carried through the nave wall, a distance of some twenty feet, and exactly commanding a view of the altar. it is _grated_ at the west end, not glazed: the eastern end has long been blocked up. way is made for it by a bulge of the wall in the angle formed towards the east by the tower and nave. this seems to form a kind of connecting link between the hagioscope and the lychnoscope. with these windows we will venture to connect those extremely rare ones, three adjacent, unconnected, equal, lancets, as occurring of the same date at the same position. there is again another kind of lychnoscope only found where the chancel has aisles. a panel of the parclose, or wooden screen, behind the longitudinal stalls, is sometimes found pierced with a small quatrefoil, at the s.w. part of the chancel. this is vulgarly called a confessional. it seems, however, clearly connected with the lychnoscope. examples are found at erith, kent, and sundridge in the same county. perhaps also the curious slit in the south wall of the chancel of s. michael's church, cambridge, communicating with a south chantry chapel is another variety. from the above facts we deduce the following remarks: 1. that the necessity for a lychnoscope must in some cases have been very urgent: as may be proved by the example, at othery, where a buttress is much injured to form one. 2. but yet this need was not universal, because there are many churches in which the arrangement does not occur. 3. that it appears, strictly speaking, a parochial arrangement, not being found in cathedral or collegiate churches. 4. that smaller buildings rather than larger are marked with it: it seldom occurs where there are aisles to the chancel. 5. that, where employed, lychnoscopes were only used occasionally; else the shutters which have evidently sometimes existed, would have been useless. 6. that they are very seldom ornamented, and never have stained glass. 7. that in the perpendicular era they generally, though not universally, ceased to be used. 8. that, a large sill seems to have been a requisite to them. 9. that, where the upper part is glazed, the lower part often was not, as in the decorated lychnoscope at beckford, gloucestershire. the principal hypotheses to explain the use of this arrangement are: 1. dr. rock's. that it was a contrivance by which lepers might see the elevation of the host. but the structure of the greater part of these windows forbids this idea: many instances occur in which it is splayed away from the altar, none (except that at loxton, and a doubtful case at winscombe, somersetshire, where a perpendicular addition has been made) in which it is splayed towards it. 2. that of the cambridge camden society, that it was for watching the paschal light. but this, besides being _à priori_ improbable is refuted by that at othery. here the eye has to look through two apertures at some distance from each other, and therefore can command only a very small field on exactly the opposite side of the chancel. 3. it has been imagined by some that it was for confession. the idea of confession near an altar sufficiently refutes itself; but furthermore, some of these openings are so very low down that the thing would be impossible. two solitary facts more, though they throw no light on the subject, may yet be mentioned. 1. in the church of s. amaro, near funchal, in madeira, is a grating at the west-end like that at loxton. its use is _now_ said to be to cool the church, though in that case one should have expected to meet it elsewhere. 2. in sennen church by the land's end, there is said to have been a lychnoscope (now no longer existing) used to take in the tithe-milk. we may gather on the whole, 1. that lychnoscopes could not have been used to look into a church 2. nor to hand anything in or out. both these are sufficiently disproved by othery, 3. nor to speak through. but one can hardly imagine any other use, except it were to look _out_ of the church. we are inclined to think that it was in some way connected with the ringing of the bells, or of the sancte bell. where the tower is central, we very often find it: as at old shoreham and alfriston, sussex: at loxton it is evidently for some purpose connected with the tower. so in beckford, which has a central tower; and uffington, berks, a cross church. and the place where the sancte bell was rung is exactly between a double lychnoscope. but what the particular use might have been we will not pretend to guess. we will conclude this long note by a question as to the authority for calling the small chancel door, the _priest's door_. it is never (originally) furnished with a lock, but always with an interior bar, thus showing that it could only have been used from the inside. so the priest could never have _entered_ the church by this way, unless the door were previously opened for him.] [end footnote] {xcvi} the symbolism of the more complicated decorated windows it is next to impossible to explain. carlisle and york have doubtless their appropriate meaning; but who will now pretend to expound it? {xcvii} one exception we may make:--the east window of bristol cathedral. it is of seven lights, but so much prominence is given to the three central ones, as strongly to set forth the most holy trinity: over them is a crown of six leaves and by the numerous winged foliations around them, the heavenly hierarchy may, very probably, be understood. {xcviii} ii. doors durandus has given us a clue to the symbolical meaning which these generally present, by directing our attention to that saying of our lord's, _i am the door_. and this, uttered as tradition reports it to have been, in reference to the gate of the temple, on which the saviour's eyes were then fixed, gives additional force to the allusion. in small churches, doors are seldom the subject of much symbolical ornament, except in the norman style; but in cathedrals, some of the most strikingly figurative arrangements are often thrown into them. the person, the miracles, or the doctrines of our lord are here frequently set forth. he is sometimes, especially in the tympanum of norman doors, as at egleton in rutland, represented as described in the apocalyptic vision; with a sword in his mouth. more frequently, however, with his blessed mother; in order, perhaps, to connect his _entrance_ into the world with ours into the church, which he thereby gathered together. this in the south entrance of lincoln minster, is enclosed in a quatre-foil: because the birth of christ is announced by the four evangelists; and angels are represented around it in attitudes of adoration. a singular, and indeed irreverent symbol, is to be seen in a door of lisieux church: the holy ghost descending on the blessed virgin, and the infant saviour following him. in the entrance to the cloisters of norwich cathedral, the door arch is filled by nine niches, the central one being occupied by the saviour, the others by saints. but this arrangement is much more common in french churches: where two, or even three rows of saints in the architrave are not uncommon: witness the south and west doors of s. germain, at amiens, and a west door of s. etienne, at beauvais. {xcix} this is sometimes, in late flamboyant work, carried to an absurd extent: in a south door of gisors, two niches actually hang down out of the soffit. early english doors are generally double, thereby representing the two natures of our saviour: but embraced by one arch, to set forth his one person. so the celebrated door in southwell minster: the west door in the galilee of ely cathedral: the entrance to the chapter house, at salisbury; the west door of the same: so the decorated west door of york; so the door to the chapter house there, of which the inscription truly says: _ut rosa phlos phlorum, sic est domus ista domorum:_so the west door and entrance to the chapter house of wells. the west door of higham ferrars has the saviour's triumphal entrance into jerusalem, over the double western doors. and this is the case in one of the doors of seville cathedral. both these connect the ideas of his entrance into the temporal, with that of ours into the spiritual, jerusalem. in these symbolical doorways, we have one proof of the immeasurable superiority of english over french architecture: compare any of the above named with the celebrated west door of amiens, with its twenty-two sovereigns in its soffit. again, by way of contrast to the second adam, by whom we enter into heaven, we sometimes, especially in norman churches, have the forbidden tree, with adam and eve in the tympanum: setting forth the one man by whom sin entered into the world. the crucifixion seldom occurs over doors: while over porches a crucifix is very common. the cause of the difference is explained by a consideration that the former are shut, the latter open: and 'when thou hadst overcome the sharpness of death, thou didst _open_ the kingdom of heaven to all believers.' indeed it may almost be asserted that a crucifix is never seen over a {c} closed door, except where it forms a part of the usual representation of the trinity. for the trinity is also, in norman churches, there represented: and that not inappropriately: inasmuch as the trinity is the beginning of all things. a holy lamb is sometimes found in norman tympana: as saith the saviour, _i am the door of the sheep_. a hasty glance at durandus [footnote 60] might lead us to imagine that we should find the apostles set forth under the similitude of doors: but he there probably refers to the well-known passage in the apocalypse. apoc. xxi, 14. [footnote 60: durand. i, 26.] this however leads us to another, and that a totally different, meaning attached to doors. we have already noticed the fact, that many norman and early english mouldings refer to various kinds of martyrdom: those which do so occur more frequently on doors than anywhere else; for it is written, 'we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of god.' and here we may observe a very curious and beautiful progression in symbolism. in the early ages of christianity, it was a matter requiring no small courage to make an open profession of christianity, to join one's self to the church militant:--and this fact has left its impress in the various representations of martyrdom surrounding the nave-doors of norman and the first stage of early english churches: as well as in the frightful forms which seem to deter those who would enter. but in process of time, as the world became evangelised, to be a member of the visible church was an easy matter: the difficulty was transferred from an entrance into _that_, to the so living, as to have part in the communion of saints:--in other words, to an entrance into the church triumphant. and therefore in late early english, and decorated, the symbols which had occupied the nave-doors in the former period, are now transferred to the chancel arch. {ci} the different agricultural operations, the signs of the zodiac, and occupations of various kinds, sometimes found on the _outside_ of norman doors, signify that we must turn our backs on, and leave behind us, all worldly cares and employments, if we would enter into the kingdom of god. in later porches, true love knots are sometimes found on the bosses: because part of the service of holy matrimony was performed there. the serpent, in which the handle is so universally fashioned, has probably reference to that text, 'they shall lay their hands upon serpents,' to signify that god's arm will protect us, when engaging, or about to engage in, his service. for the serpent with his tail in his mouth is not a christian, and indeed by no means a desirable, emblem of eternity, and therefore the door handle cannot be so interpreted. the doors are of course placed near the west end: for it is only by way of the church militant that we can hope to enter the church triumphant. one door, indeed, the priest's door, conducts at once into the chancel. durandus is probably right in interpreting this of christ's coming into the world; though it involves a little confusion of symbolism, inasmuch as the chancel, properly speaking, denotes the blessed place which he left: not the abode to which he came. it is to be noted as an instance of the decline of symbolism in the perpendicular age, that in churches which have aisles to the chancel of that date, we sometimes, as at bitton, gloucestershire, godalming, surrey, and wivelsfield and isfield, sussex, find an entrance at the east end of the south aisle. though used as a priest's door, this is entirely to be blamed: what shall we say then of modern churches, which have two doors at the east end, one on {cii} each side of the altar, as christchurch, brighton? in seville cathedral, a late, although fine flamboyant building, there are large doors at the east end of each choir aisle. porches are usually on the south side. for as the east was considered in an especial manner connected with the kingdom of heaven, so was the north imagined to be under the prince of the power of the air. it is curious how diametrically opposed in both these ideas were christianity and paganism. for as by the latter the west was known as 'the better country, where lay the isles of the blest in their abundant peace,' so in the north dwelt the deathless and ageless hyperboreans: whose state was the model of good government and secure happiness. that the belief of our ancestors is not yet extinct, a very slight knowledge of our country churchyards will prove: the north side of the churchyard has generally not more than one or two graves. to be buried there is, in the language of our eastern counties, to be buried _out of sanctuary_: and the spot is appropriated to suicides, unbaptised persons, and excommunicates. a particular portion is, in some churchyards of devonshire, separated for the second class and called the _chrisomer_. where the contrary is the case, it may be worth inquiring how far it does not arise from the accidental position of the churchyard cross on the north side. there the spell seems broken: and the villagers' graves cluster around it, as if the presence of that sacred symbol were a sufficient protection to the sleeping dust. a remarkable instance of this occurs at belleville, between dieppe and abbeville, in normandy. the doors in the transepts are, in small churches, almost invariably east or west: much more frequently the latter. this, however, is probably not symbolical: but an arrangement adopted to prevent any resemblance in the porches and transepts:--and it is a rule which needs to be much impressed on modern church builders. {ciii} the rule as to the western position of the doors, seems to apply generally to the churchyard. it is worthy of remark that in the matter of doors, protestantism presents us, as is so frequently the case, with a very unintended piece of symbolism. when we see, as in the beautiful church of bisley, gloucestershire, _thirteen_ different openings, with external staircases, made into the church, through windows and elsewhere, can we forbear thinking of him who cometh not by the doors into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way? iii. chancel arch and rood screen we come now to speak of the chancel arch and the rood screen, two of the most important features in a church. these, as separating the choir from the nave, denote literally the separation of the clergy from the laity: but symbolically the division between the militant and triumphant churches: that is to say, the death of the faithful. the first great symbol which sets this forth, is the triumphal cross: the image of him [footnote 61] who by his death had overcome death, and has gone before his people through the valley of its shadow. [footnote 61: 'let us consider him,' says bishop hall, 'now, after a weary conflict with the devil, looking down from the triumphal chariot of the cross on his church.'] the images of saints and martyrs appear in the lower panelling, as examples of faith and patience to us. the colours of the rood screen itself represent their passion and victory: the crimson sets forth the one, the gold the other. the curious tracery of net-work typifies the obscure manner in which heavenly things are set forth, while we look at them from the church militant. and for as much as the blessed martyrs passed from this {civ} world to the next through sore torments, the mouldings of the chancel arch represent the various kinds of sufferings through which they went. faith was their support, and must be ours: and faith is set forth either in the abstract, by the limpet moulding on the chancel arch; or on the screen, as in bishop's hull, somersetshire, by the creed in raised gilt letters: or is represented by some notable action of which it was the source: so in cleeve, somersetshire, the destruction of a dragon runs along, not only the rood screen, but the north parclose also. but in that the power of evil spirits may be exercised against us till we have left this world, but not after, horrible forms are sometimes sculptured in the west side of the chancel arch. the foregoing remarks may perhaps explain what has been felt by some ecclesiologists as a difficulty: how it happens, since the chancel is more highly ornamented than the nave, that it is the western, or nave side, not the eastern or chancel side, of the chancel arch which invariably receives the greatest share of ornament. the straitness of the entrance to the kingdom of heaven is set forth by the excessive narrowness of norman chancel arches. and the final separation of the church triumphant from everything that defileth was almost invariably represented by the great doom painted in fresco over the rood screen: of which there are still several examples, as the celebrated one in trinity church, coventry: and many more might be found, if the whitewash in that place were scraped off. and not only is the judgment of the world, but that of individuals here set forth: on the south side of the chancel wall of preston church, sussex, is a fresco of s. michael weighing the souls: the devil stands by, eager to secure his prize, but by the intervention of the blessed virgin, the scale preponderates in favour of the sinner. {cv} there might probably be an altar to the blessed virgin under this picture. also deeds of faith are represented in similar positions: --so in the same church on the north chancel wall, is the fresco of the martyrdom of s. thomas of canterbury. we have already noticed the triplicity, in some instances, of norman chancel arches. a very curious triple chancel arch is to be seen at capel-le-ferne, kent. we may also refer to those singular double ones, wells and finedon, and in another manner, darlington, in durham, and barton, in cumberland. it may be well, finally, to note the entire absence in the ground plans of our churches of any reference to purgatory. the only instance in which chancel and nave are separated by any intervening object, is the chantry of bishop arundell in chichester cathedral. of the triple division of the church by two (so to speak) chancel arches, we have already spoken. iv. monuments we now proceed to _monumental symbolism_. but it will be proper first to consider a very curious subject: namely the reason of the difference between the personages with which the effigies of the departed were of old time, and are now, surrounded. in the former case they were always real: our lady, s. john, s. pancras, s. agatha, and so on. in the latter, they are always allegorical: faith, virtue, courage, eloquence and the like. nay, in the very ground which is common to the two--the representations of angels--we may observe a great difference: in modern monuments any angel is represented: in those of ancient date the particular one is often named: s. gabriel, s. raphael, etc. now there are, we think, three good reasons to be assigned for this. {cvi} i. the _enlightened_, or in plainer terms, the sceptical character of the present age. unaccustomed to view any great examples of heroic devotion and self-sacrifice now, we naturally, though scarcely allowing it to ourselves, begin to doubt whether there ever were any such. in thinking of patience, our forefathers would naturally have had s. vincent presented to their mind: but we, who, some of us have scarcely heard of his name, and some, are totally ignorant of his character, have of course no such ideas suggested. so again, where our ancestors would have represented s. lawrence, we content ourselves with a representation of fidelity. and it is in accordance with this easy and self-indulgent age, rather to personify a thing, which as having never had real existence, cannot be brought into comparison with ourselves, than by representing a really existing person, to run the risk of a contrast between his virtues and our own. 2. this allegorising spirit is more in accordance with the general paganism of our architectural designs: though, be it observed, a feature of the very worst and most corrupt state of paganism. it is worth noting that in heathen countries, evil qualities have always been personified before good. paganism like every other false system, became worst at its close. in the early times of grecian mythology the attributes of purity, and truth, and mercy, were so strongly felt to reside in the gods, that a separate personification of them was needless: whereas strife, and violence and fury, qualities which had no place in heaven, demanded, and obtained a separate existence. but in process of time, when the divinities themselves became invested with the attributes of sinful humanity, the qualities of goodness which were no longer supposed theirs, found separate embodiments and expressions. {cvii} 3. we may assign as a reason for the difference we have noticed the far greater reality with which our ancestors looked on the connections subsisting between ourselves and the other world. thus, tempests and hurricanes, which we coldly explain on philosophical principles, they considered as directly proceeding from the violence of evil spirits: [footnote 62] --earthquakes and volcanoes they regarded as outbreaks, so to speak, of that place of punishment, which they believed locally situated within the earth:--diseases and pestilences they held to be the immediate work of the devil: madness and lunacy were, in their view, synonymous with possession. whether theirs, as it certainly was the most pious, were not also the most philosophical view, has been so ably discussed in the 'church of the fathers' under the chapter _s. anthony in conflict_, that we need here only allude to it. but the same spirit led them to adopt the effigies of those saints who had been members of the same church militant with themselves, and who now were members of that triumphant church which they hoped hereafter to join: and its contrary leads us to adopt the cold, vague, dreamy unsubstantialities of allegorism. [footnote 62: a master of philosophy travelling with others on the way, when a fearful thunderstorm arose, checked the fear of his fellows, and discoursed to them of the natural reasons of that uproar in the clouds, and those sudden flashes wherewith they seemed (out of the ignorance of causes) to be too much affrighted; in the midst of his philosophical discourse, he was struck dead with that dreadful eruption which he slighted. what could this be but the finger of that god who will have his works rather entertained with wonder and trembling than with curious scanning? neither is it to be otherwise in those violent hurricanes, devouring earthquakes, and more than ordinary tempests, and fiery apparitions which we have seen and heard of; for however there be natural causes given of the usual events of this kind, yet nothing hinders but the almighty, for the manifestations of his power and justice, may set spirits, whether good or evil, on work, to do the same things sometimes in more state and magnificence of horror.--bishop hall, 'the invisible world,' sect. vi.] the earliest kind of monumental symbolism is that which represents the trade or profession of the person commemorated. and these principally occur on lombardic slabs and dos d'anes. the distaff represents {cviii} the mother of a family: [footnote 63] a pair of gloves a glover: [footnote 64] so we have a pair of shears: and the like. but the cross constantly appears; and in a highly floriated form: sometimes at its foot are three steps representing the mount: sometimes a holy lamb. [footnote 65] and so ecclesiastical personages have their appropriate symbols: so the chalice or the ring [footnote 66] represents a priest:--another type is the hand raised in benediction [footnote 67] over a chalice: brasses abound in symbolical imagery. the animal at the feet varies with the varying circumstances of the deceased: a married lady has the dog, the emblem of fidelity: with which we may compare the speech of clytemnestra, of her absent lord, [footnote 68] [greek text] there are, doubtless, instances (there is one in bristol, s. peter's) where the unmarried are so represented: but they are very rare, and quite in the decline of the art. the knight again has, generally, a terrier at his feet, as the emblem of courage: sometimes the greyhound, [footnote 69 ] the symbol of speed. lord beaumont [footnote 70] has an elephant: it is a bearing in his coat-armour. [footnote 63: see on this subject an interesting article in the _church of england quarterly_, for september, 1841. ] [footnote 64: as in fletching, sussex.] [footnote 65: as in lolworth, cambridgeshire.] [footnote 66: as in s. mary, castlegate, york.] [footnote 67: as in hedon, yorkshire.] [footnote 68: agamemnon, 606. (ed. dindorf.)] [footnote 69: as in sir grey de groby, s. alban's.] [footnote 70: engraved in the 5th number of the cambridge camden society's _illustrations of monumental brasses_.] early priests have a lion [footnote 71] also at their feet; but this typified their trampling on the devil: as servants of him concerning whom it is written, 'and the devil shall go forth before [footnote 72] his feet' they have also a dragon for the same reason. and this position doubtless also has reference to the verse, 'thou shalt tread upon the lion [footnote 73] and adder: the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample under feet.' in the decline of the art, effigies have the crest of the departed at their feet. [footnote 71: as in watton, herts, and cottingham, yorkshire.] [footnote 72: habaccuc iii. v, _et egredietur diabolus ante pedes ejus_.] [footnote 73: psalm xc. _qui habitat_.] {cix} whether those knights who are represented with crossed legs are to be considered as crusaders, or at least as having taken the vow, is a question which has been much discussed. the general belief seems now to be in the negative:--and mr. bloxam in his work on monumental architecture gives it as his opinion that this posture was chosen by the artist, for the more graceful arrangement of the _surcoat_. and it is to be remarked that some illuminations, as in the life of s. edward the confessor, in the cambridge university library, represent the knights as sitting cross legged. for our own part we must confess that we incline to the old belief:--as better supported by tradition, and more in accordance with the general principles of catholic artists. the knight's hand is sometimes represented as resting on the hilt of his sword:--or as it is called _drawing it_. we are astonished that a writer in the _quarterly review_ should fall into this popular error: especially when the idea was completely opposed to the whole course of his argument. there can be no doubt that this typifies the accomplishment of the vow, the taking which was set forth by the crossed legs. the contrary--an act of war in the house of peace--is not for a moment to be thought of. as emblematical of deep humility, some effigies are represented naked: some in shrouds: some, as emaciated corpse: and sometimes, still more strikingly, the tomb will be divided into two partitions: and while the departed appears in rich vests, and with a gorgeous canopy above--below there is a skeleton, or a worm eaten figure. there is a remarkable instance at tewkesbury, in the cenotaph of the last lord abbot: and we may refer to the monument of william ashton, in s. john's college chapel, cambridge. {cx} the symbolism of ecclesiastics, lying principally in their vestments, does not so much fall within the scope of this essay. the same may be said of the allusion to the holy trinity in the benedictory attitude of the bishop: and the distinction between the mitred abbot and the bishop in the former holding his pastoral staff with the crook inwards, as signifying his dominion to be _internal_, _i.e._ within his own house;--the latter outwards, to set forth his external dominion over his diocese. the reception of the soul of the departed into abraham's bosom is often represented. sometimes angels are bearing it, in the likeness of a newborn child, (a figure symbolical of its having now returned into its baptismal state of purity) and presenting it before the throne. the founders or rebuilders of churches are known by the building which they hold in their hands. the carving of the _open seats_ is one of those parts of ecclesiastical symbolism, which it is very hard to explain. the monsters which constantly occur on them may be perhaps regarded as typical of the evil thoughts and bad passions which a life of ease and rest encourages, and it will be observed, that in the choir, a gentler class of ideas often is suggested: we have here flowers and fruit, and birds making their nests, and flocks feeding. there, are however, certain other types to be found here, and also in string courses, and corbel heads, of which we shall presently speak in terms of disapprobation. nothing, with this exception, shows the exuberance and beauty of ideas which distinguished the architects of the ages of faith--and the depth and variety of the scriptural knowledge we are pleased to deny them--than their wood carvings. [footnote 74] [footnote 74: the astonishing scriptural knowledge of durandus may be judged of from the index at the end of the volume of texts quoted by him. ] {cxi} there is perhaps hardly a scriptural subject which they have not handled: and it requires no small degree of ecclesiastical knowledge to be able at all to comprehend many of their allusions: while probably many more are lost to us. the annunciation is one of the most favourite topics. the almond tree blossoming in the flower pot--the bud terminating in a cross or crucifix--the prayer desk at which the blessed virgin kneels--the temple seen in the distance--the holy dove descending on a ray of light--these are its general accompaniments. the descent of our saviour into hell--the delivery of souls- 'magnaque; de magna praeda petita domo:' the visions of the apocalypse: the final doom: the passions and triumphs of martyrs--all here find their expression. v. corbels, gurgoyles, poppy heads, etc. the corbels which occur in the interior of churches generally represent the heavenly host--often with various instruments of music, as if taking a share in the devotions of the worshippers. this idea is most fully and beautifully carried out in late perpendicular roofs: where the various orders of the heavenly hierarchy hover, with outstretched wings, over the sacred building--an idea evidently derived from the cherubim that spread their wings over the ark, and the apostle's explanation, 'which things the angels desire to look into.' often, however, benefactors to the church are here portrayed. the gurgoyles, on the contrary, represent evil spirits as flying from the holy walls: the hideousness of the figures, so often, by modern connoisseurs, ridiculed or blamed, is therefore not without its appropriate meaning. {cxii} we must now say a few words on the least pleasing part of the study of symbolism: we mean the satirical representations which record the feuds between the secular and the regular clergy. thus, in the churches of the former, we have, principally as stallwork, figures of a fox preaching to geese: in those of the latter an ass's head under a cowl: or, which is very frequent, both in woodwork and as a gurgoyle, the cowled double face. as a specimen of these designs, we may mention the stalls [footnote 75] in east brent, somersetshire. a fox hung by a goose, with two cubs yelping at the foot of the gallows, a monkey at prayers, with an owl perched over his head: another monkey holding a halbert: a fox with mitre and staff, a young fox in chains, a bag of money in his right paw, and geese and cranes on each side. to these objectionable devices we may add those which to us appear simply profane or indecent: [footnote 76]such as the baptism of a dog in one of the stamford churches, and others in northampton, s. peter's, of norman date. one of the grossest which we have ever seen is to be found on the north side of the chancel arch of nailsea, somersetshire. [footnote 75: rutter's _delineations_, p. 89. ] [footnote 76: it is fair to observe that our designating them so _may_ be the effect of our own ignorance.] on the towers of some norman churches, the evangelistic symbols are represented. so in stow church, lincolnshire. tiles ought not to have the cross on them: for though christ is indeed the foundation of the church, yet these holy symbols should not be exposed to be trodden under foot. heraldic devices are here more proper, to signify the worthlessness of worldly honours in the sight of god. {cxiii} chapter ix some objections considered several objections to the symbolical system have been noticed and answered in the course of this treatise. we shall, however, devote a greater space to the consideration of one difficulty which has often been raised by opponents, and has often been felt even by such as have adopted the theory. it is said, for example, that to assert the nave and two aisles, or a triplet of lancets, to be symbolical of the most holy trinity, is both false and profane, when, as is almost always the case, the aisles are much less broad than the nave, and the three lancets are unequal both in height and breadth: whereas in the trinity none is afore or after other, none is greater or less than another. but the difficulty seems only to arise from carrying the similitude too far: the point of resemblance is in these cases a single one: the mere trinity of the arrangement is the only particular which gives rise to the symbol. 'three mystic lines approach the shrine,' sings the poet of the christian year for trinity sunday. the number alone is answerable for the emblem. we do not deny that an equilateral triangle is a more perfect symbol of the blessed trinity: but even here a captious man might object to the emblem, because the angles gain greater or less prominence according to the position in which the triangle is placed. {cxiv} the catholic monogram of the trinity, for example, assigns to the father and the son the upper angles of a triangle standing on the third point. on the other hand the modern triangle, generally charged with the hebrew word jehovah, has the third angle uppermost. we can quite conceive these differences being thought objectionable. the case is not so strong indeed as when the three members are unequal, but still it is the same in kind and in reality. it is a condition of emblems that the points of similitude must not be pressed too far. the material sun indeed typifies the sun of righteousness: but in what particulars? in its being _created_, in its rising on the dark world _every_ day, in its being matter? surely not: but in this one point, that it brings light and heat to the earth. _i am the door_, said our lord. in what particulars, we may again ask? it would be profane to show by examples that it is only in this point: that a door is for entrance into a material house just as we enter into the church through christ. the ark, our church teaches us, was an emblem of the church: not in its human building, nor in its final perishing; but in that it saved souls by water. did the paschal lamb typify the immaculate victim in any thing more than its comparative purity and its bloody death? we need not multiply such examples. but there is another consideration to be adduced. our lord's own parables must not be pressed too far. the history of the five wise and five foolish virgins, must not be adduced to prove that the number of the lost will equal that of the saved. this may be dangerous ground, but the assertion is true. every parable is figurative to a certain point, and no further. not that there is much danger of persons not knowing where the line is to be drawn: any more than there would be in the case of { cxv} one of a reverent mind, who was told that the triplicity of aisles and windows typified a great doctrine. the _british critic_ made a very just observation on this point, that it argued a great blindness of spiritual vision to deny such an emblem, because the similitude was not complete in all points. indeed if all points answered so closely and exactly to each other, it is not clear how a similitude would differ from a fac-simile. the very notion of a thing being like another involves the fact that the two are not identical. nothing more is found or expected, than a similarity, an analogy, in certain qualities. for in all symbolism it is quality and not essence in which resemblance is sought. which leads us to consider another objection sometimes urged to the effect that if a thing mean one thing it cannot mean another. for example, if the nave and aisles represent the holy trinity, they cannot also represent the church militant here on earth, or in another point of view the true fold. again, if the piers and arches set forth the foundation of the apostles and prophets, they must not bear a part in the representation of the trinity together with the cleristory and triforium. but this difficulty vanishes if we remember that the resemblance, for the most part, is derived from grouping independent things together and viewing them in a particular light. we do not deny the _real_ essential symbolism of a material result: but this its particular significancy need not obtrude itself at all times: the thing itself in other combinations, and viewed under other aspects, may acquire an additional and occasional meaning. for example, it is the union of the rose, thistle, and shamrock, which is the emblem of our united empire: they have each their own figurative sense; in combination they acquire a new meaning. the harp is not less the emblem of ireland, because it must primarily represent music. {cxvi} leaven was of old the symbol of wickedness: our lord spake of the leaven of the scribes and pharisees: yet we hear from his own lips, the kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven. [footnote 77] [footnote 77: we have the highest authority for believing that one type can symbolise two things quite independent of each other, in that the jewish sabbath, commanded from sinai to be observed in commemoration of the rest after the creation, is enforced in deuteronomy as the representation of the rest of the children of israel from egyptian bondage. 'remember,' says moses, 'that thou wast a servant in the land of egypt, and that the lord thy god brought thee out thence through a mighty hand and by a stretched out arm: _therefore_ the lord thy god commanded thee to keep the sabbath day.'--deut. v, 15.] another objection is as follows: if this theory be true, how will you account for churches with nothing but a nave, or with only one aisle; how for churches with neither cleristory nor triforio; or, on the other hand, for those with double triforia, or with four or five aisles? now we never asserted that it was necessary that all, or indeed any, given things should be intentionally symbolised. we have pointed out that some things are essentially symbolical; others accidentally and occasionally. we might attempt to classify what _must_ be symbolised in church building, and what _may_ be. but we decline to do so because we do not think that the principles of symbolism are yet sufficiently investigated or apprehended. however, in a general way, _every_ building must, from the nature of things, have some accidents, as of material, of parts, of plan; every particular building must have particular accidents, as of use and purpose. these accidents _must_ be symbolical, from their nature, in a general way: they may derive, from purpose added to their nature, a further or modified symbolism in a particular way. with the first sort it is that durandus chiefly concerns himself a building must have walls, must have roof, piers, windows, corners, and floor. for each then he finds a meaning. {cxvii} he does not quite neglect the second sort. early english windows must have a splay: the spire may have a weathercock: for these then there is an appropriate signification. so we do not mean to insist that certain things _shall_ be symbolised, we say they _may_ be symbolised. perhaps when more is known, we shall be able to criticise ancient buildings, to show their faults or their shortcomings in this particular. as it is, we have framed a sort of _beau ideal_ of a church, fully formed and developed, which we should propose as a perfect model. we are not qualified as yet to blame the ancient churches which do not come up to this ideal, but we cannot be wrong in praising such as do. in discussing mr. lewis's illustrations of kilpeck church, we touched upon the basilican origin of churches considered as an argument against the reception of the symbolical theory. our last remarks will apply to the same question. it has been thought quite sufficient ground for turning into ridicule the whole principle, that the roman justice halls had three or more aisles, or that a barn or banquetting room may have three longitudinal divisions. but what if mechanical convenience suggested the arrangement? (though we do not grant this). it is clear that many churches, many barns, and many refectories have never had a triple arrangement. it has never been asserted that every church shall have nave and aisles: but if a church has nave and aisles it will be symbolical of a great doctrine; and for this reason it is better for a church to have nave and aisles. why do not such writers argue that the cross form is not symbolical, because many barns are cruciform? now it is instructive to observe that there is a great and obvious utilitarian advantage in this shape for a barn: but not in the case of churches as _anciently arranged_; in which the transepts were utterly useless for the {cxviii} accommodation of worshippers; and in which there is a mechanical evil (as before mentioned) from the lateral pressure on the lantern piers. yet it is undeniable that the cross form was chosen for its symbolical meaning: and this in spite of mechanical disadvantages. a mechanical reason fails here, as in the former case, in accounting for the fact. how will they account for the cross form? their own argument tells against them. we may still further remark that in modern times we have had some curious practical lessons upon this cross form. messrs britton and hosking, in their atrocious plan for rearranging s. mary redcliffe church, unwittingly testified to the inconvenience, and want of any utilitarian end, of this plan by placing the pulpit under the lantern, and ranging the congregation in the four arms so as to face it. on the other hand, some modern architects confessedly employ the cross form because it allows of people arranged as in the last case, all seeing the preacher. but why do they not look deeper into things? why have the cross at all? why not have an amphitheatre, an octagon, an accoustically designed mechanic's institute lecture room? then all could hear, all could see much better, and the building would not cost half so much. they may think that they are designing on utilitarian principles. in truth they are unknowingly, unwillingly, symbolising the cross. {cxix} chapter x development of symbolism it is now our intention to attempt a brief sketch of the history of symbolism, confining ourselves to its rise, progress, and decline in england. for of its earlier development we have already had occasion to speak, both in the first and in the eighth chapter, when we referred to its use among the primitive christians, and to such particulars of information as could be gained concerning it from the later fathers, and from mediaeval authors. among all nations the facts of christianity have been received before its doctrines. the inhabitants of a heathen country are first called on to believe, as matter of history, that our blessed lord was conceived by the holy ghost, born of the virgin mary, suffered under pontius pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried, before any attempt is made to set before them the doctrine of the atonement, the mystery of the trinity, or the compatibility of god's foreknowledge with man's free action. and it is in the infancy of individuals, as in that of nations. we may therefore, from all analogy, conclude, that the things set forth in the earlier development of church art would be facts rather than doctrines. {cxx} now, if we look to norman buildings, we shall find this to be the case. excepting the doctrine of the holy trinity (which, after all, perhaps rather ranks, through all the stages of christian art, under the head of essential, than under that of intended symbolism), we shall find an almost exclusive reference to history, in arrangements and details. that god was the creator of heaven and earth, is set forth in door mouldings, and capitals, sometimes by the heavenly constellations or signs of the zodiac, sometimes by the animals brought to adam to be named, sometimes by the references to agriculture, which, as we have before seen, often occur. the incarnation of our saviour is set forth, as it has been already hinted, by representations so physical and earthly, as to be to our eyes almost profane. the fall of man, which appears on the sides of fonts, well reminds us of that stain which must be washed away in holy baptism. a great many of the events of our lord's life are sculptured in various positions: above all, of course, his passion. again, duties are symbolically represented, so in the chancel arch of egleton, rutland, we have the figure of a deacon ringing a bell; doubtless to remind the worshippers of the duty of attending god's house. and a still more practical method of representing the evil consequences attending the breach of duty, and one which speaks much of the rudeness of the age, is where some local event well-known at the time of the erection of the church, finds a commemoration in it. thus (though at a later epoch) among the capitals of the south transept of wells cathedral, the architect has represented a theft, which doubtless, at the time, had made a considerable noise in that place. in the first group, a man is seen stealing apples; then follows the struggle and apprehension: finally, his trial and condemnation. and such practical admonitions might not have been without their use. sometimes they are refined and exalted into such an one as may be seen in the northern apse of s. mary's, at guildford, where heavenly and earthly judgment are portrayed. {cxxi} victory over the devil is singularly enough symbolised in oxford, s. peter's, by the piers which rest on, and crush, a monster. we have before noticed that norman architecture, true to its love of facts, delighted in the representation of instruments of martyrdom, or the deeds of faith, as the victory of s. george. the final doom was also a favourite subject; so was the descent of christ into hell. in fact, its whole character, whether in string courses, tympana, capitals, or chancel arches, was graphicalness, and that obtained sometimes at the expense of grace, sometimes almost at that of decorum, but probably well adapted to the particular development which the minds of the people had then reached. one point we must remark, to the eternal honour of the anglo-norman, and indeed also of the saxon church, deadly as was the hatred existing between the two peoples, for at least a hundred and fifty years after the conquest, it has left no symbolical trace, either in the churches of the vanquishers, or of the vanquished. much as the one had suffered, and much as the other despised the conquered nation, this feeling vanished in the house of god. in advancing to early english, we still find strong traces of the historicalism of ornaments, both in some of the mouldings, as in the toothed, and in the capitals, though the latter begin now to assume a more allegorical form. indeed, the observation seems worth making, that this style is the only one which appears to have dealt much in allegory, we mean in that sense which we have already attached to the word. that is, it employs fictitious representations to set forth real truths; as in wells cathedral, the fall of the barren tree forms a beautiful corbel. we do, however, find some traces of this in norman work, as the fable of the crow and the fox may occasionally be discovered in it. {cxxii} the works of the creation were often set forth, rather with reference to their beauty than from any other reasons. such as the birds making their nests in the thick foliage, flowers, and fruit. yet, on the whole, facts such as those which principally occupied the attention of norman architects, began rather to find expression among the details, than to usurp any important part in church arrangement. we are in possession of too little wood work of this date--and in that many references of this kind were probably to be found--to be able to speak with so much certainty as we can in the later styles: but that this was the tendency of the progress of architecture, it requires but little knowledge to discover. impressed, but evidently, now, not only essentially but intentionally, on every building, was the doctrine of the ever blessed trinity: for triplets were so common at the east end as to form the rule of early english design. fonts, instead of bearing a representation of the fall of man, and thereby implying our need of regeneration, began to be octagonal, thereby setting forth the doctrine itself, a strong confirmation of our previous observation respecting facts and doctrines. the shape of piers is also to be noticed. for there appears to have been almost a rule, either that the octagonal and circular shape should alternate; or that one aisle should present the one kind, the other the other. this we can hardly, in our present state of knowledge, profess to explain. durandus's observations about windows, their splay and shafts, are very curious: and again, he evidently recognises in the tiebeams, the knitting together of the elect in one communion and fellowship: a strong argument, this, that we are justified in regarding arrangements, which arise from mechanical necessity, as nevertheless truly and really symbolical. in the bases of piers we now often find flowers, which indeed, sometimes, as in rochester cathedral, occur in transition work; principally the fleur de lys, which we may interpret to signify that humility is the foundation of all christian graces. {cxxiii} on the whole, however, we conclude that in this style, while churches taken as a whole became more symbolical, their details, as details, became less so. in proceeding to the next development of catholic art, we are almost afraid of expressing a belief, that decorated, in its early dawn, gave promise of a brighter day than it ever reached. it had not shown its wonderful resources and capabilities in windows and flying buttresses, before the boldness of its capitals and bases began to decline. we can imagine that, had it so been ordered, christian architecture might, about the year 1300, have taken a different direction, and attained to a glory, inconceivable to us--perhaps attainable only when the whole catholic church shall be at unity. as it is, we cannot but consider, that about that period, or a few years later, it took a wrong turn, and being hurried in a short space through the hectic of a rare flush of beauty, declined thenceforward slowly but surely. now, if we ask, why was this? it will lead us to look at church history as connected with the development of church architecture. contemporary with the change from saxon to norman (for we are none of those who hold that the former extended till oct. 14, 1065, and the latter began the next day), was finally the victory of the anglican church over paganism in the conversion and civilisation of the danes. contemporary with the appearance of early english, was the great victory of the church over erastianism, by the martyrdom of s. thomas of canterbury, and the abrogation of the constitutions of clarendon. but, hardly had early english finished its course of splendour, when while traces of rare glory were developing daily, the statute of mortmain began to tell upon the church: {cxxiv} and though the impulse already given yet continued for some time to act, the end was near. no magnificent cathedral was built after the full effects--not so much of that act, as of the erastianism which contrived and allowed it--were felt. the nave of winchester can hardly be called a solitary exception; because, in truth, it may be doubted whether the pious exertions of william of wykeham were not, so far as concerns the actual beauty of his cathedral, misplaced. thenceforward, the state interfered more and more with the church; and not allowed to carry out her own designs, it is no wonder if the latter quickly began to forget her own symbolical language. after, for the first few years of the fourteenth century, using it with precision and elegance before unattainable, she thenceforward began to disuse it. we need not give examples of decorated symbolism, because all that was new in it lay in its windows: and these we have already discussed at considerable length. and having sufficiently explained why there should be a decline, we have only now to examine why that decline should have been so different in england, france, and italy. in england, from the time that edward iv directed the execution of archbishop scrope, when the state interfered, it was with a strong arm, cramping and confining, obliging the church to confine herself to ritual observances, and forbidding her to expatiate in the grand objects for which she was ordained. now could there be a more fitting expression of this than the perpendicular style? does not its stiffness, its failure in harmony, its want of power and adaptation, its continual introduction of heraldry, its monotony, its breaking up by hard continued lines, its shallowness, its meretriciousness, its display--set forth what we know to have been the character of the contemporary church? {cxxv } above all, do not the reintroduction of horizontality, the tudor arch, the depressed pier, speak of her want of spirituality? everything teaches us that there was no want of power in her architects; considered merely as specimens of art, king's college, and henry the seventh's chapels, are matchless. and here and there we may trace some tokens of vastness and holiness of conception worthy of a better age; such as the suffolk roofs, which, as it has been well said, never attained their full development. it must be borne in mind, that perpendicular [footnote 78] was the first style, which in its full development was used first for a secular building. far be it from us, however, to depreciate the excessive magnificence it assumes in shrines and chapels: indeed, this is one of the features which decorated has not, and the absence of which in that style renders it possible to believe that a still more magnificent may be in store for us. perpendicular introduced no new element of symbolism. [footnote 78: we deeply regret that the oxford architectural society should ever have allowed itself to put on paper the opinions expressed by one of its members, that perpendicular windows are those best suited to the spirit of christian architecture.] but if this were the state of the anglican church, the gallican, though not better off, was acted on in a very different manner. the state gradually interfered with it, embraced it with its dangerous friendship, made its observances meaningless, while sustaining their splendour; secularised its abbeys, by appropriating them to political ends; made statesmen of its bishops, gave it outside show, while eating out its heart. does not flamboyant express this? a vast collection of elegant forms, meaninglessly strung together: richness of ornament, actually weakening construction: vagaries of tracery, as if the hand possessed of church art were suddenly deprived of church feelings: nothing plain, simple, intelligible, holy: parts neglected, parts ostentatious: the west front of abbeville to a choir that would disgrace a hamlet. {cxxvi} in spain, again, where christianity unfolded itself later, so also was church art later in its development. san miguel, at seville, which was actually built in 1305, would, in england, be set down to the date of about 1180. in italy, where there was no state to interfere with the church, paganism, which had always been more or less at work, sprang up at once, at the time of the great schism, and has ever since prevailed. but to return to england. perpendicular, unable to express any idea by its ornaments, soon began to imitate those of earlier styles: first early english, in the wretched banded capitals of the western counties, and then decorated in its windows. while, however, the church was yet united with the rest of christendom, paganism interfered but in a very slight degree: the italian example of henry the seventh's tomb was not followed. even after the dissolution, there were some good churches built: the symbolism which lingered longest was that of the chancel and nave. nor was this destroyed summarily: the importance of the chancel had been gradually, all through the perpendicular era, weakened by chancel aisles, and the omission of the chancel arch: it was but to omit the rood screen and parclose, and (as at hawkshead, lancashire, circ. 1564) the mystical division vanished. the symbolisms which protestantism introduced were few and easily understood. the removal, and material, of the altar, the change of vestments, the gradual introduction of close pews, the innovation of a reading pew, were all figurative enough. something like a return to church art was made just before the great rebellion: chancels became elongated, {cxxvii} altars resumed their old position, copes reappeared, and the like. details began to improve: and (which we could hardly have expected) intentional symbolism is sometimes to be discovered in them. so, in baltonsburgh, somersetshire, a stone pulpit of the date of 1621, has among other devices, an equilateral triangle, containing, and surrounded by, a _tre_-foil: and evidently setting forth the holy trinity. after the rebellion, but still more after the revolution, those faint traces of symbolism died away into that _ne plus ultra_ of wretchedness, the georgian style. {cxxviii} chapter xi general conclusion it is very remarkable, as has been already observed, that the buildings of those who most strongly object to the principle of symbolism, do in effect contain as striking an exemplification of it as it would be possible to find. let us look at a protestant place of worship. it is choked up and concealed by surrounding shops and houses, for religion, nowadays, must give way to business and pleasure: it stands north and south, for all idea of fellow-feeling with the church catholic is looked on as mere trifling, or worse: the front which faces the high street is of stone, because the uniformity of the street so required it: or (which is more likely) of stucco, which answers as well, and is cheaper: the sides, however, are of brick, because no one can see them: there is at the entrance a large vestibule, to allow people to stand while their carriages are being called up, and to enter into conversation on the news of the day, or the merits of the preacher: it also serves the purpose of making the church warmer, and contains the doors and staircases to the galleries. on entering, the pulpit occupies the central position, and towards it every seat is directed: for preaching is the great object of the christian ministry: galleries run all round the building, because hearing is the great object of a christian congregation: {cxxix} the altar stands under the organ gallery, as being of no use, except once a month: there are a few free seats in out-of-the-way places, where no one could hear, and no pews would be hired, and therefore no money is lost by making the places free: and whether the few poor people who occupy them can hear or not, what matters it? the font, a cast-iron vase on a marble pillar, stands within the altar rails; because it there takes up no room: the reading pew is under the pulpit, and faces the congregation; because the prayers are to be read to them and not addressed to god. look at this place on sunday or thursday evening. carriages crash up through the cast-iron gates, and, amidst the wrangling and oaths of rival coachmen, deposit their loads at the portico: people come, dressed out in the full fashion of the day, to occupy their luxurious pew, to lay their smelling-bottles and prayer-books on its desk, and reclining on its soft cushions, to confess themselves--if they are in time--miserable sinners: to see the poor and infirm standing in the narrow passages, and close their pew doors against them, lest themselves should be contaminated, or their cushions spoilt, at the same time beseeching god to give their fellow-creatures the comfort which they refuse to bestow: the royal arms occupy a conspicuous position; for it is a chapel of the establishment: there are neat cast-iron pillars to hold up the galleries, and still neater pillars in the galleries to hold up the roof; thereby typifying that the whole existence of the building depends on the good-will of the congregation: the roof is flat, with an elegant cornice, and serves principally to support a gas-lighted chandelier: and the administration of this chapel is carried on by clerk, organist, beadle, and certain bonnetless pew-openers. {cxxx} we need not point out how strongly all this symbolises the spiritual pride, the luxury, the self-sufficiency, the bigotry of the congregations of too many a pew-rented episcopal chapel. in contrast to this, let us close with a general view of the symbolism of a catholic church. far away, and long ere we catch our first view of the city itself, the three spires of its cathedral, rising high above its din and turmoil, preach to us of the most holy and undivided trinity. as we approach, the transepts, striking out cross-wise, tell of the atonement: the communion of saints is set forth by the chapels clustering round choir and nave: the mystical weathercock bids us to watch and pray and endure hardness: the hideous forms that seem hurrying from the eaves speak the misery of those who are cast out of the church: spire, pinnacle, and finial, the upward curl of the sculptured foliage, the upward spring of the flying buttress, the sharp rise of the window arch, the high-thrown pitch of the roof, all these, overpowering the horizontal tendency of string course and parapet, teach us, that vanquishing earthly desires, we also should ascend in heart and mind. lessons of holy wisdom are written in the delicate tracery of the windows: the unity of many members is shadowed forth by the multiplex arcade: the duty of letting our light shine before men, by the pierced and flowered parapet that crowns the whole. we enter. the triple breadth of nave and aisles, the triple height of pier arch, triforium, and clerestory, the triple length of choir, transepts, and nave, again set forth the holy trinity. and what besides is there that does not tell of our blessed saviour? that does not point out 'him first' in the two-fold western door: 'him last' in the distant altar: 'him midst' in the great rood: 'him without end' in the monogram carved on boss and corbal, in the holy lamb, in the lion of the tribe of judah, in the mystic fish? close by us is the font; {cxxxi} for by regeneration we enter the church: it is deep and capacious; for we are buried in baptism with christ: it is of stone; for he is the rock: and its spiry cover teaches us, if we be indeed risen from its waters with him, to seek those things that are above. before us, in long drawn vista, are the massy piers, which are the apostles and prophets: they are each of many members, for many are the graces in every saint: there is delicate foliage round the head of all; for all were plentiful in good works. beneath our feet are the badges of worldly pomp and glory, the charges of kings and nobles and knights: all in the presence of god as dross and worthlessness. over us swells the vast 'valley' of the high-pitched roof: from the crossing and interlacing of its curious rafters hang fadeless flowers and fruits which are not of earth: from its hammer-beams project wreaths and stars, such as adorn heavenly beings: in its centre stands the lamb as it had been slain: from around him the celestial host, cherubim and seraphim, thrones, principalities, and powers, look down peacefully on the worshippers below. harpers there are among them harping with their harps: for one is the song of the church in earth and in heaven. through the walls wind the narrow cloister galleries: emblems of the path by which holy hermits and anchorites, whose conflicts were known only to their god, have reached their home. and we are compassed about with a mighty cloud of witnesses: the rich deep glass of the windows teems with saintly forms, each in its own fair niche, all invested with the same holy repose: there is the glorious company of the apostles: the goodly fellowship of the prophets: the noble army of martyrs: the shining band of the confessors: the jubilant chorus of the virgins: there are kings who have long since changed an earthly for an heavenly crown: and bishops who have given in a glad account to the shepherd and bishop of souls. {cxxxii} but on none of these things do we rest; piers, arch behind arch, windows, light behind light, arcades, shaft behind shaft, the roof, bay behind bay, the saints around us, the heavenly hierarchy above with dignity of pre-eminence still increasing eastward, each and all, lead on eye and soul and thought to the image of the crucified saviour as displayed in the great east window. gazing steadfastly on that, we pass up the nave, that is through the church militant, till we reach the rood screen, the barrier between it and the church triumphant, and therein shadowing forth the death of the faithful. high above it hangs, on his triumphal cross, the image of him who by his death hath overcome death; on it are portrayed saints and martyrs, his warriors, who fighting under their lord have entered into rest and inherit a tearless eternity. they are to be our examples, and the seven lamps above them typify those graces of the spirit, by whom alone we can tread in their steps. the screen itself glows with gold and crimson: with gold, for they have on their heads golden crowns: with crimson, for they passed the red sea of martyrdom to obtain them. and through the delicate net-work, and the unfolding holy doors, we catch faint glimpses of the chancel beyond. there are the massy stalls; for in heaven is everlasting rest: there are the sedilia, emblems of the seats of the elders round the throne: there is the piscina; for they have washed their robes and made them white: and there, heart and soul and life of all, the altar with its unquenched lights, and golden carvings, and mystic steps, and sparkling jewels: even christ himself, by whose only merits we find admission to our heavenly inheritance. verily, as we think on the oneness of its design, we may say: _jerusalem edificatur ut civitas cujus participatio ejus in idipsum_. {cxxxiii} postscriptum on concluding their work, which from circumstances that need not be specified has been a year in the press, the writers must apologise for the numerous typographical errors which have been allowed to remain. their separation from each other, and distance from the printer, must plead in excuse. they take this opportunity of expressing their thanks to the reverend dr. mill, christian advocate of the university of cambridge, and to f. a. paley, esq., m.a., of s. john's college, cambridge, honorary secretary of the cambridge camden society, for their advice and assistance. it remains to say that some doubt has been felt by persons who have read the introductory essay in proofs, whether the writers have given mr. pugin sufficient credit for several passages in his works which seem to _involve_ the principle now contended for. we had thought that no misapprehension could be feared on this head. it was enough to know that the principle in question, even though _felt_ (as we indeed allowed) by this architect, had not been _expressed in terms_. in short, we took this fact for our ground: that whereas mr. pugin's book professed to assert the _true principles_ of christian architecture, yet reality, according to his definition, was not at least so accurately a 'true principle' as sacramentality. the principles themselves, as enunciated by mr. pugin, apply as well to any secular building as to a church: they are true for _construction_, but not adequate in themselves to form a rule for ecclesiastical design. kemerton, _august_ 16, 1843. {cxxxiv} the following very curious passage ought to have come in at page lxxvii of the introductory essay, but was not accessible at the time. it is an extract from the 'fardle of facions' printed a.d. 1555. from the 'fardle of facions,' printed 1555 oratories, temples, or places of praier (whiche we calle churches) might not to be built without the good will of the bishoppe of the diocese. and when the timbre was redy to be framed, and the foundacion digged, it behoved them to sende for the bishoppe, to hallowe the firste corner stone of the foundacion, and to make the signe of the crosse thereupon, and to laie it, and directe it juste easte and west. and then might the masons sette upon the stone, but not afore. this churche did they use to builde after the facion of a crosse, and not unlike the shape of a manne. the channcelle (in the whiche is conteined the highe altare and the quiere) directe fulle in the easte, representeth the heade, and therefore ought to be somewhat rounde, and muche shorter than the body of the churche. and yet upon respect that the heade is the place for the eyes, it ought to be of more lighte, and to bee seperate with a particion, in the steade of a necke, from the bodye of the churche. this particion the latine calleth cancelli, and out of that cometh our terme channcelle. on eche side of this channcelle peradventure (for so fitteth it beste) should stand a turret; as it were for two ears, and in these the belles to be hanged, to calle the people to service, by daie and by night. undre one of these turretts is there commonly a vaulte, whose doore openeth into the quiere, and in this are laid up the hallowed vesselles and ornamentes, and other utensils of the churche. we call it a vestrie. {cxxxv} the other parte oughte to be fitted, that having as it were on eche side an arme, the reste maye resemble the bodye with the fete stretched in breadthe, and in lengthe. on eche side of the bodye the pillers to stande, upon whose coronettes or heades the vaulte or rophe of the churche maye reste. and to the foote beneth aulters to be joyned. those aulters to be orderly alway covered with two aulter clothes, and garnished with the crosse of christe, or some little cofre of reliques. at eche ende a candelsticke, and a booke towarde the middes. the walls to be painted without and within, and diversely paineted. that they also should have in every parishe a faire round stone, made hollowe and fitte to holde water, in the whiche the water consecrate for baptisme maye be kept for the christening of children. upon the right hand of the highe aulter that ther should be an almorie, either cutte into the walle, or framed upon it, in the whiche they woulde have the sacrament of the lorde's bodye, the holy oyle for the sicke, and chrismatorie, alwaie to be locked. furthermore they would that ther should be a pullpite in the middes of the churche, wherein the prieste maye stonde upon sondaies and holidays to teache the people those things that it behoveth them to knowe. the channcelle to serve only for the priests and clerks; the rest of the temporalle multitude to be in the bodye of the churche, seperate notwithstanding, the men on the righte side, and the women on the left. ---------{1} _here beginneth the first book of_ gulielmus durandus _his_ rationale _of the_ divine offices. the proeme importance and difficulty of the study of symbolism--necessity of its cultivation by priests--consideration of unlearned priests--mystical and moral meaning of the law--four-fold sense of scripture: the historical, the allegoric, the tropologic, the anagogic--different ceremonies used by different churches--name of rationale, whence derived--division of the work. 1. all things, as many as pertain to offices and matters ecclesiastical, be full of divine significations and mysteries, and overflow with a celestial sweetness; if so be that a man be diligent in his study of them, and know how to draw 'honey from the rock, and oil from the hardest stone.' [footnote 79] but who 'knoweth the ordinances of heaven, or can fix the reasons thereof upon the earth?' [footnote 80] for he that prieth into their majesty, is overwhelmed by the glory of them. of a truth 'the well is deep, and i have nothing to draw with': [footnote 81] unless he giveth it unto me who 'giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not': [footnote 82] so that 'while i journey through the mountains' [footnote 83] i may 'draw water with joy out of the wells of salvation.' [footnote 84] {2} wherefore, albeit of the things handed down from our forefathers, capable we are not to explain all, yet if among them there be anything which is done without reason, it should forthwith be put away. 'wherefore i, william, by the alone tender mercy of god, bishop of the holy church which is in mende,' [footnote 85] will knock diligently at the door, if so be that 'the key of david' [footnote 86] will open unto me: that the king may 'bring me in to his treasury,' [footnote 87] and show unto me the heavenly pattern which was showed unto moses in the mount: so that i may learn those things which pertain to rites ecclesiastical, whereof they teach and what they signify: and that i may be able plainly to reveal and make manifest the reasons of them, by his help, 'who hath ordained strength out of the mouth of babes and sucklings': [footnote 88] 'whose spirit bloweth where it listeth,' [footnote 89 ] dividing to 'each severally as it will' [footnote 90] to the praise and glory of the trinity. [footnote 79: deut. xxxii, 13.] [footnote 80: job xxxviii, 33] [footnote 81: s. john iv, 11.] [footnote 82: s. james i, 5.] [footnote 83: psalm ciii. vulgate.] [footnote 84: isaiah xii, 3. ] [footnote 85: a city of france, and capital of the department of lozére, situated on an eminence near the lot: before the revolution, the see of a bishop. the number of inhabitants is about 5000.'--cruttwell's _gazetteer_, s.v.] [footnote 86: apocalypse iii, 7.] [footnote 87: cant, ii, 4.] [footnote 88: psalm viii, 2. see also wisdom x, 21.] [footnote 89: s. john iii, 8. ] [footnote 90: i cor. xii, ii.] 2. sacraments we have received to be signs or figures, not in themselves virtues, but the significations of virtues, by which men are taught as by letters. now of signs there be that are natural, and there be that are positive: concerning which, and also of the nature of a sacrament, we shall speak hereafter. {3} 3. therefore the priests and the bishops to whom 'it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of god,' [footnote 91] as he saith in luke, and who be the stewards and dispensers of sacred things, ought both to understand the sacred mysteries, and to shine in the virtues which they signify: so that by their light others may be illuminated: otherwise 'they be blind leaders of the blind.' [footnote 92] as saith the prophet, 'let their eyes be darkened, that they see not.' [footnote 93] but, woe therefore is me! in these days they apprehend but little of those things which day by day they handle and perform, what they signify, and wherefore they were instituted: so that the saying of the prophet seemeth to be fulfilled, 'as is the people, so is the priest.' [footnote 94] for when they bear the bread of prothesis [footnote 95] to the lord's table and the mysteries, they understand not its signification more than brute beasts which carry bread for the use of others. of which ignorance they shall give account in the day of vengeance and wrath. 'when the cedars of paradise shall tremble, what shall the bush of the desert do?' [footnote 96] for to them is that saying of the prophet, 'they have not known my ways: so i swear in my wrath, if they shall enter into my rest.' [footnote 97] [footnote 91: s. luke viii, 10.] [footnote 92: s. matthew xv, 14.] [footnote 93: psalm lxix, 23.] [footnote 94: isaiah xxiv, 2.] [footnote 95: here is a distinct reference to the prothesis: the more valuable because in writers of the middle ages it does not hold so prominent a place as we might have expected: and the table of prothesis appears not to have occupied a certainly defined situation in catholic churches. there is also a reference to lev. xxi, 8, and the showbread.] [footnote 96: s. luke xxii, 3.] [footnote 97: psalm xcv, 11.] 4. now the professors of the arts liberal, and of all other arts, seek how they may clothe, support, and adorn with causes and hidden reasons those things which be nakedly and without ornament therein set forth; painters moreover, and mechanics and handicraftsmen of what {4} sort soever, study in every variety of their works to render and to have at hand probable reasons thereof. so, also, unseemly is it to the magistrate to be ignorant of this world's laws; and to the pleader to know nothing of the law, wherein he is exercised. 5. but although learning be necessary unto priests for the sake of doctrine: yet must not scholastics think slightingly of unlettered priests; according to that saying in exodus, 'thou shalt not revile the gods.' [footnote 98] whence, saith s. augustine, they shall not deride if they hear the priests and ministers of the church, either invoking god with barbarisms and solecisms, or not understanding and misdividing the words which they pronounce. not but that such things are to be corrected; but they must firstly be tolerated of the more learned. but that which priests ought to learn, shall be said below. [footnote 98: exodus xxii, 28.] 6. furthermore, the symbolism which existeth in things and offices ecclesiastical, is often not seen, both because figures have departed, and now it is the time of truth; and also because we ought not to judaise. but, albeit those types of which the truth is made manifest have departed, yet even to this time manifold truth is concealed, which we see not; wherefore the church useth figures. for so by white vestments we understand the beauty in which our souls shall be arrayed, or the glory of our immortality, which we cannot manifestly behold: and in the mass, by the oblation on the altar, [footnote 99] the passion of christ is represented, that it be held in the memory more faithfully and more firmly. [footnote 99: the prayer of oblation is as follows--'suscipe, sancta trinitas, hanc oblationem quam tibi offerimus _ob memoriam passionis_, resurrectionis et ascensionis jesu christi domini nostri,' etc.] {5} 7. furthermore, of the things which be commanded in the law, some be moral, and others mystical. they be moral which inform the morals, and are to be understood in the simple tenour of the words: 'love god: honour thy father: thou shalt do no murder,' and such like. mystical be such as are typical: where something is set forth beyond the literal meaning. of these, some be sacramental, and some ceremonial. sacramental be such as may be accounted for, why thus they were ordered: such as circumcision, and the observance of the sabbath, and the like. ceremonial be they for which no reason can be given. such be, 'thou shalt not plough with an ox and an ass together:' [footnote 100] thou shalt not wear a garment of linen and woollen mixed.' [footnote 101] [footnote 100: deut. xxii, 10.] [footnote 101: deut. xxii, 11.] 8. now in things that are moral commands, the law hath received no change: but in things sacramental and ceremonial its outward form is altered: yet not one of the mystical significations is done away: for the law is not done away. though the 'priesthood being changed, there is made of necessity a change likewise of the law.' [footnote 102] [footnote 102: hebrews vii, 12.] 9. now, in holy scriptures there be divers senses: as historic, allegoric, tropologic, and anagogic. whence, according to boethius, all divine authority ariseth from a sense either historical or allegorical or from both. and according to s. hierom, we ought to study holy scriptures in three ways:--firstly, according to the letter; secondly, after the allegory, that is, the spiritual meaning; thirdly, according to the blessedness of the future. {6} history is _things signified by words:_ as when a plain relation is made how certain events took place: as when the children of israel, after their deliverance from egypt, made a tabernacle to the lord. and history is derived from [greek text], which is to gesticulate: [footnote 103] whence gesticulators (that is, players) are called _histriones_. [footnote 103: here is a notable instance of durandus's misderivations, of which we have spoken in the introduction.] 10. allegory is when one thing is said and another meant: as when by one deed another is intended: which other thing, if it be visible, the whole is simply an allegory, if invisible and heavenly, an _anagoge_. also an allegory is when one state of things is described by another: as when the patience of christ, and the sacraments of the church are set forth by mystical words or deeds. as in that place: 'there shall come forth a rod of the stem of jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots:' [footnote 104] which is in plain language. the virgin mary shall be born of the family of david, who was the son of jesse. [this is an example of mysticism in words.] truth is also set forth by mystic deeds: as the children of israel's freedom from egyptian slavery, wrought by the blood of a lamb, signifieth that the church is freed by the passion of christ from demoniacal servitude. [footnote 105] the word allegory is derived from the greek _allon_, which means _foreign_, and _gore_, which is _sense_; that is, a _foreign sense_. [footnote 104: isaiah xi, 1.] [footnote 105: see appendix i.] {7} 11. _tropology_ is an injunction unto morality: or a moral speech, either with a symbolical or an obvious bearing, devised to evince and instruct our behaviour. _symbolical_; as where he saith, 'let thy garments be always white: and let the oil of thy head never fail.' [footnote 106] that is, let all thy works be pure, and charity never fail from thy mind. and again, it is fit that david should slay the goliath within us: that is, that humbleness may subdue our pride. _obvious_ as in that saying, 'deal thy bread to the hungry.' [footnote 107] and in that text: 'let us not love in word, neither in tongue: but in deed and truth.' [footnote 108] now tropology hath his name from _tropos_, a turning, and _logos_, which is a discourse. [footnote 106: ecclesiastes ix, 8. ] [footnote 107: isaiah lviii, 7.] [footnote 108: 1 s. john iii, 18.] 12. anagoge is so called from _ana_, which is upwards, and _goge_, a leading: as it were an upward leading. whence the anagogic sense is that which leadeth from the visible to the invisible: as light, made the first day, signifieth a thing invisible, namely the angelic nature which was made in the beginning. _anagoge_, therefore, is that sense which leadeth the mind upwards to heavenly things: that is to the trinity and the orders of angels, and speaketh concerning future rewards, and the future life which is in the heaven: and it useth both obvious and mystical expressions; obvious, as in that saying, 'blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see god:' [footnote 109] mystical, as that, 'blessed are they that have made white their robes: that they may have right unto the tree of life, and enter in through the gate into the city.' [footnote 110] which signifieth, blessed are they who make pure their thoughts, that they may have a right to see 'god, who is the way, the truth, and the life:' [footnote 111] and after the example of the fathers, enter into the kingdom of heaven. [footnote 109: s. matthew v, 8.] [footnote 110: apocalypse vii, 14.] [footnote 111: s. john xiv, 6.] {8} in like manner, jerusalem is understood historically of that earthly city whither pilgrims journey; allegorically, of the church militant; tropologically, of every faithful soul; anagogically, of the celestial jerusalem, which is our country. [footnote 112] of these things, more examples may be seen in the lessons for holy saturday. [footnote 113] but in this work many senses are applied: and speedy changes are made from one to another, as the diligent reader will perceive. [footnote 112: how beautifully, observes a writer in the _british critic_, do old ecclesiastical writers use _patria_ and _domus_ of our celestial country, and our everlasting home!] [footnote 113: reference is here apparently made to the fifth chapter of the book, of lamentations, which appears as the 3rd lesson at matins.] 13. for as none is prohibited from using divers grounds of exception and manners of defence, so neither are they forbidden to employ divers expositions in the praise of god, so that faith be not injured. 14. notice must also be taken of the variety of rites used in the divine worship. for nearly every church hath her own observances, and attacheth to them a full meaning of her own: neither is it thought blameworthy or absurd to worship with various chants, or modulations of the voice, nor yet with different observances: when the church triumphant herself is surrounded, [footnote 114] according to the prophet, with the like diversity, and in the administration of the sacraments themselves a variety of customs is tolerated, and that rightly. [footnote 114: the author appears to refer here to the xlv psalm, 'eructavit cor meum.'] {9} 15. whence, according to austin of ecclesiastical institutions in the divine office, some we have received from holy scriptures: some from the traditions or writings of the apostles, being confirmed by their successors: some, moreover, of which, however, the institution is unknown, are confirmed by custom and approved by use: and to them equal observance is due as to the others. 16. let not, then, the reader be angry if he perchance read in this work of observances which he never saw in his own church: or does not read of some that are there in use. for we endeavour not to go through the particular rites of particular places, but those which be more common and usual: because we labour to set forth that doctrine which is of universal, and not that which is of particular bearing, nor would it be possible for us to examine the particular rites of every church. therefore we have determined, for the health of our soul and the benefit of the readers, to set forth and to arrange the secret mysteries of divine offices in a clear state, to the best of our power and to inculcate and thoroughly to explain that which appears necessary for ecclesiastics, towards the understanding of the daily service: even as it is well known that, when in a different condition of life, we did faithfully in our _mirror of magistrates_ do the like for the use of those who were employed in secular courts. {10} 17. but it must diligently be noted that in the divine offices themselves [footnote 115] many ceremonies there be of usual employment which have, from their institution, respect neither to a moral nor mystical signification. of these, some are known to have arisen of necessity: some of congruity: some of the difference of the old and new testament; some of convenience; and some for the mere honour and reverence of the offices themselves: whence saith blessed austin, so many things are varied by the different customs of divers place, that seldom or never can those causes be discovered which men followed in constituting them. [footnote 115: this passage is worth noting, as showing that our author does not proceed with the determination of making a meaning where he could not find one: but that he is willing to leave much, explained only in the principles of necessity, or convenience, or reverence.] 18. this work is described as a rationale. for as in the 'breastplate of judgment' [footnote 116] which the jewish high priest wore was written manifestation and truth, so here the reasons of the variations in divine offices and their truths are set forth and manifested: which the prelates and priests of churches ought faithfully to preserve in the shrine of their breasts: and as in the breastplate there was a stone by the splendour of which the children of israel knew that god was well pleased with them: so also the pious reader who hath been taught the mysteries of the divine offices from the clearness of this work will know that god is favourably disposed towards us, unless we rashly incur his indignation by our offence and fault. the breastplate was woven of four colours and of gold: and here, as we said before, the principles on which are founded the variations in ecclesiastical offices, take the hues of four senses, the historic, the allegoric, the tropologic, and the anagogic, with faith as the [footnote 117] groundwork. [footnote 116: vulg. in rationali judicii. exodus xxviii, 3.] [footnote 117: such appears the meaning of this beautiful comparison. the words are rather obscure, _quatuor sensibus fide media colorantur_.] {11} 19. it is divided into eight parts: which we shall go through, by the lord's favour, in order. the first treateth of churches, and ecclesiastical places and ornaments: and of consecrations and sacraments. the second of the members of the church, and their duties: the third of sacerdotal and other vestments: the fourth of the mass, and of the things therein performed: the fifth of the other divine offices: the sixth of the sundays and holydays, and feasts specially pertaining to our lord: the seventh of saints' days, and the feast of the dedication of a church, and the office of the dead; the eighth of the method of computing time, and the calendar. {12} _tradatus gulielmi durandi de ecclesia et ecclesiasticis locis et sacramentis et ornamentis et de consecrationibus incipit feliciter._ chapter i of a church and its parts two-fold meaning of the word--different synonyms for the term--form of a church--of the tabernacle--the foundation, how to be laid--to point east, and why--the spiritual church, how built up--of cement--what arms the spiritual church employeth--of the materials of the tabernacle--of shittim wood--analogy of a church with the human body--of what the spiritual church consisteth--of its foundations--of the walls--of the choir--of apses--of the cloister court--of the towers--of the cock--of the pinnacles--of the windows--of the lattice work--of the doors--of the piers--of the beams--of the roof--of the stalls--of the pulpit--of the rood loft--of the hours--of the sanctuary--of the sacristy--of the roof tiles--of the lights--of the crosses--of the cloister--of the bishop's throne--why we go together to church--of the separation of the women from the men--of the covering of women's heads--of speech in church--of immunity for malefactors--why churches may be rebuilt in other places. 1. first of all, let us consider a church [footnote 118] and its parts. the word church hath two meanings: the one, a material building, wherein the divine offices are celebrated: the other, a spiritual fabric, which is the collection of the faithful. the church, _that_ is the people forming it, is assembled by its ministers, and collected together into {13} one place by 'him who maketh men to be of one mind in an house.' [footnote 119]for as the material church is constructed from the joining together of various stones, so is the spiritual church by that of various men. [footnote 118: it has been found advisable to print the word church in the following pages with a great or a small initial letter, according as 'the blessed company of all faithful people,' or the material building, were intended.] [footnote 119: psalm lxviii (_exsurgat deus_), 6.] 2. the greek _ecclesia_ is in latin translated by convocation because it calleth men to itself: the which title doth better befit the spiritual than the material church. the material typifieth the spiritual church: as shall be explained when we treat of its consecration. [footnote 120] again, the church is called catholic, that is universal, because it hath been set up in, or spread over, all the world, because the whole multitude of the faithful ought to be in one congregation, or because in the church is laid up the doctrine necessary for the instruction of all. [footnote 120: see below, chapter vi.] 3. it is also called in greek _synagoga_, in latin _congregatio_, which was the name chosen by the jews for their places of worship: for to them the term synagogue more appropriately belongeth, though it be also applied to a church. but the apostles never call a church by this title, perhaps for the sake of distinction. 4. the church militant is also called _sion_: because, amidst its wanderings, it expecteth the promise of a heavenly rest: for sion signifieth _expectation_. but the church triumphant, our future home, the land of peace, is called jerusalem: for jerusalem signifieth _the vision of peace_. [footnote 121] [footnote 121: so the hymn in the parisian breviary, for the dedication of a church: urbs beata, vera pacis visio, jerusalem.] also, the church is called the _house of god_: also, sometimes, [greek text], that is, the _lord's house_. at others _basilica_ (in latin, a royal palace), for the abodes of earthly kings are thus termed: and how much more fittingly our houses of prayer, the dwelling-places of the king of kings! again, it is called _temple_, from _tectum amplum,_ {14} where sacrifices are offered to god: and sometimes the _tabernacle of god_, because this present life is a journey, and a progress to a lasting country: and a tabernacle is an hostelrie: [footnote 122] as will be explained when we speak of the dedication [footnote 123] of a church. and why it is called the _ark of the testimony_, we shall say in the ensuing chapter, under the title altars. sometimes it is called _martyrium_, when raised in honour of any martyr; sometimes _capella_ [footnote 124] (chapel), (see under the head priest in the second part); sometimes _coenobium_, at others _sacrificium_; sometimes _sacellum_; sometimes _the house of prayer_: sometimes _monastery_: sometimes _oratory_. generally, however, any place set apart for prayers is called an oratory. again, the church is called the _body of christ_ sometimes a _virgin_, as the apostle saith, 'that i may present you as a chaste virgin to christ': [footnote 125] sometimes a _bride_, because christ hath betrothed her to himself, as saith the gospel: 'he that hath the bride is the bridegroom': [footnote 126] sometimes a _mother_, for daily in baptism she beareth sons to god: sometimes a _daughter_, according to that saying of the prophet, 'instead of thy fathers thou shalt have children': [footnote 127] sometimes a _widow_, because 'she sitteth solitary through her afflictions, and, like rachel, will not be comforted.' sometimes she is set forth under the emblem of an _harlot_, because she is called out of many nations, and because she closeth not her bosom against any that return to her. [footnote 122: compare cicero de senect. xxiii. et ex vita ita discedo tanquam ex hospitio, non tanquam ex domo: commorandi enim natura diversorium nobis, non habitandi dedit.] [footnote 123: chapter vi, sect. 5, ad fin.] [footnote 124: durandus, ii. 10. 8. 'in many places, priests be called chaplains. for of old the kings of france, when they went forth to war, carried with them the cope of blessed martin, which was kept in a certain tent (where mass was said), and from the cope (cappa) the tent was called chapel (capella).' we may observe that chapel was used in former times with much greater latitude than now. an additional aisle or chantry was so called. so in haddenham, cambridgeshire, on a brass in the north aisle, _orate pro aniniabus fundatorum hujus capellae_: that is, the aisle itself.] [footnote 125: 2 cor. xi, 2.] [footnote 126: s. john iii, 29.] [footnote 127: psalm xlv (_eructavit cor meum_), 16.] {15} sometimes she is called a city, because of the communion of her holy citizens, being defended by the munitions of the scriptures, whereby heretics are kept off: having stones and beams of divers kinds, because the merits of the saints are of divers kinds also, as shall be said below. whatever the jewish church received by the law, that doth the christian church receive, and with large increase by grace, from christ whose bride she is. the setting up of an oratory, or church, is not new. for the lord commanded moses in mount sinai, that he should make a tabernacle of curiously wrought materials. this was divided by a veil into two parts: the outer, called the holy place, where the people attended the sacrifices: the inner, the holy of holies, where the priests and levites ministered before the lord (see the preface to the fourth book and also appendix a). 5. this tabernacle having decayed through age, the lord commanded that a temple should be built, which solomon accomplished with wonderful skill: this also had two parts, like the tabernacle. from both of these, namely, from the tabernacle and the temple, doth our material church take its form. in its outer portion, the laity offer their prayers, and hear the word. in the sanctuary, the clergy pray, preach, offer praises and prayers. 6. the tabernacle, built as it was amidst the journeyings of the israelites, is sometimes taken as a type of the world which 'passeth away, and the lust thereof' [footnote 128] whence it was formed with curtains of four colours, as the world is composed of four elements. 'god,' said the prophet, 'is in his tabernacle': [footnote 129] god is in this world, as in a temple dyed scarlet by the blood of christ. [footnote 128: s. john ii, 17.] [footnote 129: psalm xi (_in domino confido_), 4.] {16} the tabernacle is, however, more especially symbolical of the church militant, which hath 'here no continuing city, but seeketh one to come.' [footnote 130] therefore is it called a tabernacle, for tabernacles or tents belong to soldiers: and this saying, god is in his tabernacle, meaneth, god is among the faithful collected together in his name. the outer part of the tabernacle, where the people sacrificed, is the active life, wherein men give themselves up to the love of their neighbour: the interior, wherein the levites ministered, is the contemplative life, where a band of religious men devote themselves to the love and contemplation of god. the tabernacle gave place to the temple: because after the warfare cometh the triumph. [footnote 130: hebrews xiii, 14.] 7. now a church is to be built on this fashion: the foundation being prepared, according to that saying, 'it fell not, for it was founded upon a rock,' [footnote 131] the bishop, or a priest [footnote 132] as the bishop's deputy, must sprinkle it with holy water, to banish the foul forms of evil spirits, and lay the first stone, whereon a cross must be engraved. [footnote 133] [footnote 131: s. matthew vii, 25. in general illustration of the foregoing sections the reader is referred to the first chapter of the eighth book of bingham's 'antiquities.'] [footnote 132: in the account of the dedication of s. michael the archangel, in the isle of guernsey, preserved in the 'black book of the bishop of coutances,' it appears that the ceremony was performed by a priest though it is believed that such has seldom been the case in the anglican church. but see chapter vi, section 2. ] [footnote 133: a cross was not only inscribed on the foundation stone, but a cross was placed where the church was to be: and this in the eastern church; where the _stauropegia_ was a ceremony of much importance.] 8. the foundation must be so contrived, as that the head of the church may point due east (see appendix b); that is, to that point of the heavens, wherein the sun ariseth at the equinoxes; to signify, that the church militant must [footnote 134] behave herself with moderation, both in prosperity and adversity: and not towards that point where the sun ariseth at the solstices, which is the practice of some. [footnote 134: this passage is valuable as proving that in the country of our bishop nothing was known of a practice undoubtedly prevalent in england; the direction of a church to that part of the sky in which the sun arose on the feast of the patron saint.] {17} but if the walls of jerusalem, 'which is built as a city that is at unity with itself,' [footnote 135] were, by the prophet's command, raised by the jews, with how much greater zeal should we raise the walls of our churches! for the material church, wherein the people assemble to set forth god's holy praise, symboliseth that holy church which is built in heaven of living stones. [footnote 135: psalm cxxii (_laetatus sum_), 3. ] 9. this is that house of the lord, built with all strength, 'upon the foundations of the apostles and prophets, jesus christ himself being the chief cornerstone. [footnote 136] her [footnote 137] foundations are in the holy mountains.' the walls built upon these are the jews and gentiles; who come from the four parts of the world unto christ, and who have believed, believe, or shall believe on him. [footnote 136: eph. ii, 20.] [footnote 137: psalm lxxxvii (_fundamenta ejus_), i. ] the faithful predestinated to eternal life, are the stones in the structure of this wall which shall continually be built up unto the world's end. and one stone is added to another, when masters in the church teach and confirm and strengthen those who are put under them: and whosoever in holy church undertaketh painful labours from brotherly love, he as it were beareth up the weight of stones which have been placed above him. those stones which are of larger size, and polished, or squared, and placed on the outside and at the angles of the building, are men of holier life than others, who by their merits and prayers retain weaker brethren in holy church. 10. the cement, without which there can be no stability of the walls, is made of lime, sand, and water. the lime is fervent charity, which joineth to itself the sand, that is, undertakings for the temporal welfare of our brethren: {18} because true charity taketh care of the widow and the aged, and the infant, and the infirm: and they who have it study to work with their hands, that they may possess wherewith to benefit them. now the lime and the sand are bound together in the wall by an admixture of water. but water is an emblem of the spirit. and as without cement the stones cannot cohere, so neither can men be built up in the heavenly jerusalem without charity, which the holy ghost worketh in them. all the stones are polished and squared--that is, holy and pure, and are built by the hands of the great workman into an abiding place in the church: whereof some are borne, and bear nothing, as the weaker members: some are both borne and bear, as those of moderate strength: and some bear, and are borne of none save christ, the corner-stone, as they that are perfect. all are bound together by one spirit of charity, as though fastened with cement; and those living stones are knit together in the bond of peace. christ was our wall in his conversation: and our outer wall in his passion. 11. when the jews were rebuilding the walls of jerusalem, their enemies strove hard to let the works: so that 'they built with one hand, and held their weapons of war in the other.' and round us too do enemies gather, while we are building the walls of our church: our own sins, or ungodly men, willing to hinder our success. whence, while we build our walls, that is, while we add virtue to virtue, we must fight with the enemy, and grasp our weapons firmly: we must 'take the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness: and for our sword the word of god,' [footnote 138] that we may defend ourselves against them: and god's priest shall be unto us in christ's stead, to teach us by his lessons, and defend us by his prayers. [footnote 138: eph. vi, 16, 17.] {19} 12. furthermore, of what the tabernacle was made the lord hath told us, saying unto moses, 'take the first fruits,'--that is, the most precious gifts--'of the children of israel: but from him alone who willingly offereth gold, and silver, and brass, and precious stones, and purple and linen twice dyed'; namely cloth of the colours of blue, purple, and scarlet: and of biss, which is a kind of egyptian linen white and soft: 'and goat's hair, and rams' skins dyed red,' which we call parthian, because the parthians first dyed them thus, 'and purple skins and shittim wood' (shittim is the name of a mountain, and also of a tree: its leaves are like the white thorn, and to be injured neither by fire nor by decay): 'and oil for the lights, frankincense, and ointment of a sweet savour, onyx stones, and sard-onyxes, and jewels: and let them make me a house, that i may dwell in the midst of them: and that they may not weary themselves in returning to this mountain.' [footnote 139] [footnote 139: exodus xxv, 2.] 14. the arrangement of a material church resembleth that of the human body: the chancel, or place where the altar is, representeth the head: the transepts, the hands and arms, and the remainder--towards the west--the rest of the body. the sacrifice of the altar denoteth the vows of the heart. furthermore, according to richard de sancto victore, the arrangement of a church typifieth the three states in the church: of virgins, of the continent, of the married. {20} the sanctuary [footnote 140] is smaller than the chancel, and this than the nave: because the virgins are fewer in number [footnote 141] than the continent, and these than the married. and the sanctuary is more holy than the chancel: and the chancel than the nave: because the order of virgins is more worthy than that of the continent, and the continent more worthy than the married. [footnote 140: the sanctuary of course means that eastermost division in churches consisting of three parts, which still remains in many norman buildings, and of which kilpeck, in herefordshire, may be taken as a type. these churches are generally apsidal: but there are instances to the contrary, as bishopstone, in sussex. a view of the sanctum sanctorum and chancel arches in this church is given in the cambridge camden society's 'illustrations of monumental brasses,' part iv.] [footnote 141: this passage is somewhat obscure; but the difference between the virgins and the continent appears to be this: by the former are meant those who have taken vows of celibacy; by the latter, those who practise it, without, however, having bound themselves to it by vow.] 15. furthermore, the church consisteth of four walls, that is, is built on the doctrine of the four evangelists; and hath length, breadth, and height: the height representeth courage, the length fortitude, which patiently endureth till it attaineth its heavenly home; the breadth is charity, which, with long suffering, loveth its friends in god, and its foes for god; and again, its height is the hope of future retribution, which despiseth prosperity and adversity, hoping 'to see the goodness of the lord in the land of the living.' [footnote 142] [footnote 142: psalm xxvii (_dominus illuminatio_), 13.] 16. again, in the temple of god, the foundation is faith, which is conversant with unseen things: the roof, charity, 'which covereth a multitude of sins.' [footnote 143] the door, obedience, of which the lord saith, 'if thou wilt enter into life, keep the commandments.' [footnote 144] the pavement, humility, of which the psalmist saith, 'my soul cleaveth to the pavement.' [footnote 145] [footnote 143: i s. peter iv, 8.] [footnote 144: s. matthew xix, 17.] [footnote 145: psalm cxix (_adhaesit pavimento_), 25.] 17. the four side-walls, the four cardinal virtues, justice, fortitude, temperance, prudence. hence the apocalypse saith, 'the city lieth four-square.' [footnote 146] the windows are hospitality with cheerfulness, and tenderness with charity. [footnote 146: rev. xxi, 16.] {21} concerning this house saith the lord, 'we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.' [footnote 147] but some churches are built in the shape of a cross, to signify, that we are crucified to the world, and should tread in the steps of the crucified, according to that saying, 'if any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross, and follow me.' [footnote 148] some also are built in the form of a circle: [footnote 149] to signify that the church hath been extended throughout the circle of the world, as saith the psalmist: 'and their words unto the end of the world.' [footnote 150] or because from the circle of this world, we reach forth to that crown of eternity which shall encircle our brows. [footnote 147: s. john xiv, 23.] [footnote 148: s. matthew xvi, 18.] [footnote 149: this of course refers to the church of the holy sepulchre, the prototype of these buildings. there are four, as it is well known, in england yet standing, and two in ruins--namely, temple aslackby, in lincolnshire, and the church in ludlow castle.] [footnote 150: psalm xix (_caeli enarrant_), 4.] 18. the choir is so called from the harmony of the clergy in their chanting, or from the multitude collected at the divine offices. the word _chorus_ is derived from _chorea_, or from _corona_. for in early times they stood like a crown round the altar, and thus sung the psalms in one body: but flavianus and theodorus taught the antiphonal method of chanting, having received it from s. ignatius, who himself learnt it by inspiration. the two choirs then typify the angels, and the spirits of just men, while they cheerfully and mutually excite each other in this holy exercise. others derive _chorus_ from _concord_, which consisteth of charity; because he who hath not charity, cannot sing with the spirit. but what this choir signifieth, and why the greatest in it sit last, shall be explained in the fourth book. [footnote 151] and observe, that when one sings, it is called in greek a _monody_, in latin _tycinium_. when two sing, it is called _bicinium_; when many, a _chorus_. [footnote 151: we may observe that prynne perverts the fact, that the westernmost seats in the choir are the most honourable, to a depreciation of the catholic custom of the position of the altar. see his 'pacific examination,' s.v.] {22} 19. the exedra is an apsis, separated a little from a temple or palace; so called because it projecteth a little from the wall (in greek [greek text]), and signifieth the lay portion of the faithful joined to christ and the church. the crypts, or subterranean caves, which we find in some churches, are hermits who are devoted to a solitary life. 20. the open court signifieth christ, by whom an entrance is administered into the heavenly jerusalem: this is also called porch, from _porta_, a gate, or because it is _aperta_, open. 21. the towers are the preachers and prelates of the church, which are her bulwark and defence. whence the bridegroom in the canticles saith to the bride, 'thy neck is like the tower of david builded for an armoury.' [footnote 152] the pinnacles of the towers signify the life or the mind of a prelate which aspireth heavenwards. [footnote 152: canticles iv, 4.] 22. the cock at the summit of the church is a type of preachers. for the cock, ever watchful even in the depth of night, giveth notice how the hours pass, wakeneth the sleepers, predicteth the approach of day, but first exciteth himself to crow by striking his sides with his wings. there is a mystery conveyed in each of these particulars. the night is this world: the sleepers are the children of this world who are asleep in their sins. the cock is the preacher, who preacheth boldly, and exciteth the sleepers to cast away the works of darkness, exclaiming, 'woe to them that sleep! awake thou that sleepest! [footnote 153] and these foretell the approach of day when they speak of the day of judgment, and the glory that shall be revealed: and like prudent {23} messengers, before they teach others, arouse themselves from the sleep of sin by mortifying their bodies. whence the apostle, 'i keep under my body.' [footnote 154] and as the weathercock faceth the wind, they turn themselves boldly to meet the rebellious by threats and arguments: lest they should be guilty, 'when the wolf cometh, of leaving the sheep and fleeing.' [footnote 155] the iron rod, whereon the cock sitteth, representeth the discourse of the preacher, that he speaketh not of man but of god: according to that saying, 'if any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of god.' [footnote 156] but in that the iron rod is placed above the cross, on the summit of the church, it signifieth that holy scripture is now consummated and confirmed. whence saith our lord in his passion, 'it is finished': and that title is written indelibly over him. [footnote 153: eph. v, 14.] [footnote 154: 1 cor. ix, 27.] [footnote 155: s. john x, 12.] [footnote 156: i s. peter iv, 11.] 23. the cone, that is the summit of the church, of great height, and of round shape, signifieth how perfectly and inviolably the catholic faith must be held: which faith except a man do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly. 24. the glass windows in a church are holy scriptures, which expel the wind and the rain, that is all things hurtful, but transmit the light of the true sun, that is, god, into the hearts of the faithful. these are wider [footnote 157] within than without, because the mystical sense is the more ample, and precedeth the literal meaning. also, by the windows the senses of the body are signified: which ought to be shut to the vanities of this world, and open to receive with all freedom spiritual gifts. [footnote 157: this passage is particularly to be observed, for the reason given in the introduction.] 25. by the lattice work [footnote 158] of the windows, we understand the prophets or other obscure teachers of the church militant: in which windows there are often two shafts, signifying the two precepts of charity, or because the apostles were sent out to preach two and two. [footnote 158: see appendix i.] {24} 26. the door of the church is christ: according to that saying in the gospel, 'i am the door.' [footnote 159] the apostles are also called doors. [footnote 159: s. john x, 9.] 27. the piers of the church are bishops and doctors: who specially sustain the church of god by their doctrine. these, from the majesty and clearness of their divine message, are called silver, according to that in the song of songs, 'he made silver columns.' [footnote 160] whence also moses at the entering in of the tabernacle, placed five columns, and four before the oracle, that is, the holy of holies. although the piers are more in number than seven, yet they are called seven, according to that saying, 'wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars': [footnote 161] because bishops ought to be filled with the sevenfold influences of the holy ghost: [footnote 162] and ss. james and john, as the apostle testifieth, 'seemed to be pillars.' [footnote 163] the bases of the columns are the apostolic bishops, [footnote 164] who support the frame of the whole church. the capitals of the piers are the opinions of the bishops and doctors. for as the members are directed and moved by the head, so are our words and works governed by their mind. the ornaments of the capitals are the words of sacred scripture, to the meditation and observance of which we are bound. [footnote 160: canticles viii, 9.] [footnote 161: prov. viii, i.] [footnote 162: compare the _veni creator_: thou the anointing spirit art, who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart.] [footnote 163: gal ii, 9.] [footnote 164: that is, it may be supposed, bishops of those sees which were founded by the apostles themselves, e.g. rome, crete, ephesus.] 28. the pavement of the church is the foundation of our faith. but in the spiritual church, the pavement is the poor, of christ: the poor in spirit, who humble themselves in all thing: wherefore on account of their {25} humility they are likened to the pavement. again, the pavement, which is trodden under foot, representeth the multitude, by whose labours the church is sustained. 29. the beams [footnote 165] which join together the church are the princes of this world or the preachers who defend the unity of the church, the one by deed, the other by argument. [footnote 165: _beams_. that is, probably, tie-beams: here is another reference to the architectural arrangements of early english date.] 30. the stalls in the church signify the contemplative, in whom god dwelleth without hindrance, who, from their high dignity and the glory of eternal life, are compared to gold. whence he saith in the canticles, 'he made a golden seat.' [footnote 166] [footnote 166: see appendix i.] 31. the beams in the church are preachers, who spiritually sustain it. the vaulting also, or ceiling, representeth preachers, who adorn and strengthen it, concerning whom, seeing that they are not corruptible through vice, the bridegroom glorieth in the same canticles, saying 'the beams of our house are cedar, and its ceiling, fir.' for god hath built his church of living stones, and imperishable wood, according to that saying, 'solomon made himself a litter of cedar wood;' [footnote 167] that is, christ, of his saints who wear the white robe of chastity. [footnote 167: it is very difficult to find the right meaning of the word ferculum here. the english version gives the passage from the canticles, 'king solomon made himself a _chariot_ (marg. reading, _bed_) of the wood of lebanon. in the extremely beautiful treatise of hugo de s. victore, _de nuptiis spiritualibus_(cap. iii), the _fercula nuptialia_ appear to mean the _marriage feast_, which is to perform its part in the general _sensuum refectio_, by its sweet savours; as the bed or chariot of solomon is noted for the odour of its cedar wood. however, the same writer devotes five tituli of his _erudit. theolog. ex miscellan._ namely, lix--lxii of the first book, and cxxi of the second, to the consideration of this ferculum solomonis: which he decides to be a _lectica sen vehiculum_, a litter or sedan (such as is now used in sicily under the name of _lettiga_), differing from the _lectulus_ or _bed_ (cant, i, 16), inasmuch as this denotes the repose of the contemplative life, while the ferculum typifies the laborious exercise of the active life; and differing again from the _currus_ or chariot (the only other vehicle mentioned in holy scripture), since the latter is drawn on the earth with a grating noise, and represents a depraved heart clinging to earthly things, but the former is borne smoothly and quietly above the ground, an image of the righteous soul despising earthly and seeking heavenly things. lastly, the _ferculum_, or litter, typifies the church, from carrying, _a ferendo_, as doth the church her children unto heavenly rest.] {26} the chancel, that is, the head of the church, being lower [footnote 168] than its body, signifieth how great humility there should be in the clergy, or in prelates, according to that saying, 'and the more thou art exalted, humble thyself in all things.' the rail, by which the altar [footnote 169] is divided from the choir, teacheth the separation of things celestial from things terrestrial. [footnote 168: the fact that in many unaltered and unmutilated churches the chancel is lower than the nave, appears to have been unnoticed by ecclesiologists. wherever it occurs, william dowsing, or some of his puritanical coadjutors, have been supposed agents in the matter. but there exist chancels, which, whether from the height of the piscina and sedilia, or on other accounts, cannot have been lowered, to which nevertheless there is a descent from the nave. such an one is that of s. giles's at cambridge: and the arrangement is very common in the little churches of the south-west part of sussex.] [footnote 169: this is another very remarkable passage: and one which proves that the injunction of abp. laud for the erection of altar rails was not a novelty. and though their abolition is much to be wished, as well from the ugliness of all existing specimens, as from the irreverence which they seem to pre-suppose, the church in england can scarcely be charged with the adoption of an innovation in giving her sanction to them.] 32. the seats in the choir admonish us that the body must sometimes be refreshed: because that which hath not alternate rest wanteth durability. 33. the pulpit in the church is the life of the perfect: and is so called from being public, or placed in a public place. for we read, 'solomon made a brazen scaffold, and set it in the midst of the temple, and stood upon it, and stretching forth his hands spake to the people of god.' esdras also made a wooden scaffold for speaking: in which when he stood, he was higher than the rest of the people. [footnote 170] [footnote 170: 3 kings vi, 13.] 34. the analogium (rood-loft) is so called because in it the word of god is read and delivered. which also is called ambo, from _ambire_, [footnote 171] to surround, because it surroundeth him that entereth in. [footnote 171: this is, of course, a false derivation. the important subject of rood-lofts has been treated with admirable learning by father thiers, in his treatise 'sur les jubés,' to which the reader is referred. see also appendix c.] {27} 35. the horologium, by means of which the hours are read, teacheth the diligence that should be in priests to observe at the proper times the canonical hours: as he saith, 'seven times a day do i praise thee.' [footnote 172] [footnote 172: psalm (cxix), _beati immaculati_, 164.] 36. the tiles [footnote 173] of the roof which keep off the rain are the soldiers, who preserve the church from paynim, and from enemies. [footnote 173: this passage deserves to be noticed, as proving that lead was not the only roofing employed in the norman churches.] 37. the circular staircases, which are imitated from solomon's temple, are passages which wind among the walls, and point out the hidden knowledge which they only have who ascend to celestial things. concerning the steps, by which ascent is made to the altar, hereafter. 38. the sacristy, or place where the holy vessels are deposited, or where the priest putteth on his robes, is the womb of the blessed mary, where christ put on his robes of humanity. the priest, having robed himself, cometh forth into the public view, because christ, having come from the womb of the virgin, proceeded forth into the world. the bishop's throne in the church is higher than the rest. 39. near to the altar, which signifieth christ, is placed the piscina, or lavacrum, that is, the pity of christ, in which the priest washeth his hands, thereby denoting that by baptism and penitence we are purged from the filth of sin: which is drawn from the old testament. for he saith in exodus, 'and moses made a laver of brass, with his basin, in the which aaron the priest and his sons should wash, before they went up to the altar, that they might offer an offering. [footnote 174] [footnote 174: exodus xxxviii, 8.] {28} 40. the lamp in the church is christ: as he saith, 'i am the light of the world'; [footnote 175] and again, 'that was the true light.' [footnote 176] 'or the light in a church may denote the apostles and other doctors, by whose doctrine the church is enlightened, as the sun and moon: concerning whom saith the lord, 'ye are the light of the world: [footnote 177] that is, an example of good works. wherefore he saith to them in his admonitions, 'let your light shine before men.' [footnote 178] but the church is enlightened by the precepts of the lord; wherefore it saith in the before-quoted place, 'speak unto the sons of aaron that they offer oil-olive most pure, that the lamp may burn continually in the tabernacle of the testimony.' [footnote 179] moses made also seven lights, which are the seven gifts of the holy ghost: for they in the darkness of this world shine forth with brightness: and they rest in candlesticks, because in christ rested 'the spirit of wisdom and knowledge, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of learning and piety, the spirit of the fear of the lord, by which he preached wisdom to the captives.' [footnote 180] the number of lights showeth the number of graces in the faithful. [footnote 175: s. john viii, 12.] [footnote 176: s. john i, 6.] [footnote 177: s. matthew v, 14.] [footnote 178: s. matthew v, 16.] [footnote 179: lev. xxiv, 2.] [footnote 180: isaiah lxi, i.] 41. in many places a triumphal cross is placed in the midst of the church; to teach us, that from the midst of our hearts we must love the redeemer: who, after solomon's pattern, 'paved the midst of his litter (_ferculum_) with love for the daughters of jerusalem:' [footnote 181] and that all, seeing the sign of victory, might exclaim. hail, thou salvation of the whole world, tree of our redemption: and that we should never forget the love of god, who, to redeem his servants, gave his only son, that we might imitate him crucified. but the cross is exalted on high, to signify the victory of christ. why a church is ornamented within and not without, shall be said hereafter. [footnote 181: cantic. iii, 10.] {29} 42. the cloisters, as richard, bishop of cremona, testifieth, had their rise either in the watchings of the levites around the tabernacle, or from the chambers of the priests, or from the porch of solomon's temple. 'for the lord commanded moses, that he should not number the levites with the rest of the children of israel; but should set them over the tabernacle of the testimony to carry it and to keep it.' [footnote 182] on account of which divine commandment, while the holy mysteries are in celebration, the clergy should in the church stand apart from the laity. whence the council of mayence ordained that the part which is separated with rails from the altar should be appropriated altogether to the priests choral. furthermore, as the church signifieth the church triumphant, so the cloister signifieth the celestial paradise, where there will be one and the same heart in fulfilling the commands of god and loving him: where all things will be possessed in common, because that of which one hath less, he will rejoice to see more abounding in another, for 'god shall be all in all.' [footnote 183] therefore the regular clergy who live in the cloisters, and are of one mind, rising to the service of god and leaving worldly things, lead their lives in common. the various offices in the cloister signify the different mansions, and the difference of rewards in the kingdom: for 'in my father's house are many mansions,' [footnote 184] saith our lord. but in a moral sense the cloister is the contemplative state, into which the soul betaking itself, is separated from the crowd of carnal thoughts, and meditateth on celestial things only. in this cloister there are four sides: denoting, namely, contempt of self, contempt of the world, love of god, love of our neighbour. each side hath his own row of columns. contempt of self hath humiliation of soul, mortification of the flesh, humility of speech, and the like. the base of all the columns is patience. [footnote 182: numbers i, 47; xviii, 6.] [footnote 183: i corinth, xv, 28.] [footnote 184: s. john xv, 2.] {30} 43. in this cloister the diversity of office-chambers is the diversity of virtues. the chapter-house is the secret of the heart: concerning this, however, we shall speak differently hereafter. the refectory is the love of holy meditation. the cellar, holy scripture. the dormitory, a clean conscience. the oratory, a spotless life. the garden of trees and herbs, the collection of virtues. the well, the dew of god's heavenly gifts; which in this world mitigateth our thirst, and hereafter will quench it. 44. the episcopal throne, which according to the injunctions of saint peter has been of old consecrated in each city (as shall be said below), the piety of our forefathers dedicated, not in memory of confessors, but to the honour of apostles and martyrs, and especially of the blessed virgin mary. 45. but we therefore go to church, that we may there ask for the pardon of our sins, and assist in the divine praises: as shall be said in the proeme of the fifth book, and that there we may hear god's proceedings [footnote 185] with the good and the ill, and learn and receive the knowledge of god, and that we may there feed on the lord's body. [footnote 185: such is probably the meaning of the passage. the original is _ut iti bona sive mala judicia audiamus_.] 46. in church, men and women sit apart: which, according to bede, we have received from the custom of the ancients: and thence it was that joseph and mary lost the child jesus; since the one who did not behold him in his own company, thought him to be with the other. . . . but the men remain on the southern, the {31} women on the northern side: [footnote 186] to signify that the saints who be most advanced in holiness should stand against the greater temptations of this world: and they who be less advanced, against the less; or that the bolder and the stronger sex should take their place in the position fittest for action: because the apostle saith, 'god is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able.' [footnote 187] to this also pertaineth the vision of s. john, who 'beheld a mighty angel placing his right foot in the sea.' [footnote 188] for the stronger members are opposed to the greater dangers. but, according to others, the men are to be in the fore part [_i.e._ eastward], the women behind: because 'the husband is the head of the wife,' [footnote 189] and therefore should go before her. [footnote 186: this is the practice in some parts of england even to this day: more especially in somersetshire. bp. montague in his 'visitation articles' (reprinted camb. 1841) asks (p. 17), 'do men and women sit together in those seats indifferently and promiscuously? or (as the fashion was of old), do men sit together upon one side of the church, and women upon the other?' and, indeed, of old there was a still further separation on each side, into the married and unmarried. the restoration of the practice recommended by bp. montague is much to be wished.] [footnote 187: 1 corinth, x, 13.] [footnote 188: apocalypse x, 7.] [footnote 189: eph. v, 23.] 47. a woman must cover her head in the church, because she is not the image of god, and because by woman sin began. and therefore in the church, out of respect for the priest, who is the vicar of christ, in his presence, as before a judge, she hath her head covered, and not at liberty: and on account of the same reverence she hath not the power of speaking in the church before him. of old time, men and women wearing long hair stood in church with uncovered heads glorying in their locks: which was a disgrace unto them. 48. but what should be our conversation in church the apostle teacheth, saying, 'speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs.' [footnote 190] whence we must, when we be there, abstain from superfluous words: {32} according to that saying of s. chrysostome, when thou goest into a king's palace, set in order thy conversation and thy habit. for the angels of the lord are there: and the house of god is full of incorporeal virtues. [footnote 191] and the lord saith to moses, and so doth the angel to joshua, 'put off thy shoes from off thy feet: for the place where thou standest is holy ground.' [footnote 192] [footnote 190: coloss. iii, 16.] [footnote 191: the passage referred to is as follows:--' regiam quidem ingrediens, et habitu et aspectu et incessu et omnibus aliis te ornas et componis: hic autem vera est regia et plane hic talia qualia caelestia:--et rides? atque scio quidem quod tu non vides. audi autem quod ubique adsunt angeli, et maxima in domo dei adsistunt regis, et omnia sunt impleta incorporeis illus potestatibus.] [footnote 192: exod. iii, 5. josh, v, 15.] 49. in the last place, a consecrated church defendeth murderers who take sanctuary in it from losing life or limb, provided that they have not offended in it, or against it. whence it is written that 'joab fled to the tabernacle, and laid hold on the horns of the altar.' [footnote 193] the same privilege is possessed also by an unconsecrated church, if the divine offices be therein celebrated. [footnote 193: 2 kings i, 28.] 50. but the body of christ received by such persons, doth not defend them nor those who fly to it: partly because the privilege is granted to a church as a church: and therefore not to be misbestowed on other things: partly because that food is the support of the soul, and not of the body: whence it freeth the soul and not the body. 51. churches are moved from one place to another on three accounts. first, on account of the necessity arising from persecutors: secondly, on account of the difficulty of access or habitation, such as the unwholesomeness of air: thirdly, when they are oppressed with the society of evil men: and then with the consent of the pope or the bishop. wherefore he that entereth into a church fortifieth himself with the sign of the cross, shall be said in the proeme of the fifth book.' [footnote 194] [footnote 194: see appendix.] {33} chapter ii of the altar the first builders of altars--the difference between altare and ara--various significations of various kinds of altars--the ark of the testimony--it is preserved in the lateran church--what a man needeth that he may be the temple of god--what the table signifieth--of the candlestick--of the ark--of the altar--of the altar cloths--of steps to the altar. i. the altar hath a place in the church on three accounts, as shall be said in speaking of its dedication. we are to know that noe [footnote 195] first, then isaac [footnote 196] and abraham [footnote 197] and jacob made, as we read, altars: which is only to be understood of stones set upright, on which they offered and slew the victims and burnt them with fire laid beneath them. also moses made an altar [footnote 198] of shittim wood: and the same was made as an altar of incense, and covered with pure gold: as we read in the xxvth chapter of exodus, where also the form of the altar is described. from these of the ancient fathers, the altars of the moderns have their origin, being erected with four horns at the corners. of which some are of one stone, and some are put together of many. [footnote 195: gen. viii, 20.] [footnote 196: gen. xxvi, 25. xxxiii, 20.] [footnote 197: gen. xiii, 18.] [footnote 198: exodus xxvii, i.] 2. and sometimes the words altare and ara are used in the same sense. yet is there a difference. for _altare_, derived from _alta res_, or _alta ara_, is that on which {34} the priests burnt incense. but _ara_, which is derived from _area_, or from _ardeo_, is that on which sacrifices were burnt. [footnote 199] [footnote 199: the true ecclesiastical distinction between _altare_ and _ara_ is that the former means the altar of the true god, and is therefore alone used in the vulgate, answering to the greek [greek text], as opposed to ara ([greek text]), an altar with an image above it. see _mede_. folio 386. ] 3. and note, that many kinds of altars are found in scripture: as a higher, a lower, an inner, an outer; of which each hath both a plain and a symbolical signification. the higher altar is god the trinity: of which it is written, 'thou shalt not go up by steps to my altar.' [footnote 200] and it also signifieth the church triumphant: of which it is said, 'then shall they offer bullocks upon mine altar.' [footnote 201] but the lower altar is the church militant, of which it is said, 'if thou wilt make an altar of stone, thou shalt not make it of hewn stone.' [footnote 202] also it is the table of the temple. of which he saith, 'appoint a solemn day for your assembly even unto the horns of the altar.' [footnote 203] and in the third of kings, it is said that solomon made a golden altar. [footnote 204 ] but the interior altar is a clean heart, as shall be said below. it is also a type of faith in the incarnation, of which in exodus, 'an altar of earth ye shall make me.' [footnote 205] and an interior altar is the altar of the cross. this is the altar on which they offered the evening sacrifice. whence in the canon of the mass it is said, _jube hoc in sublime altare tuum perferri_. [footnote 206] moreover the external altar representeth the sacraments of the church: of which it is said, 'even thine altars, o lord of hosts, my king, and my god.' [footnote 207] again, the altar is our mortification in our heart, in which carnal motions are consumed by the fervour of the holy spirit. [footnote 200: exodus xx, 26.] [footnote 201: psalm li (_miserere mei_), 19.] [footnote 202: exodus xx, 25.] [footnote 203: psalm cxviii (_confitemini_), 27.] [footnote 204: iii kings vi. 22.] [footnote 205: exodus xx 26.] [footnote 206: this prayer, which immediately precedes the commemoration of the dead, runs thus: supplices te rogamus, omnipotens deus, jube hoc perferri per manus sancti angeli tui, in conspectu divinae majestatis tuae: ut quotquot ex hac altaris participatione sacrosanctum filii tui corpus et sanguinem sumpserimus, omni benedictione caelesti et gratia repleamur. per.] [footnote 207: psalm lxxxiv (_quam dilecta_), 4.] {35} 4. secondly, it also signifieth the spiritual church: and its four horns teach how she hath been extended into the four quarters of the world. thirdly, it signifieth christ, without whom no gift is offered acceptable to the father. whence also the church addresseth her prayers to the father through christ alone. fourthly, it signifieth the body of christ, as shall be explained in the fifth book. fifthly, it signifieth the table at which christ did feast with his disciples. 5. it is written in exodus, that in the ark of the testament or of the testimony the witness was laid up: [footnote 208] that is, the tables on which the law was written: and it is said that the _testimony_ was there laid up, because it was a bearing witness that the law imprinted on our hearts by nature god had reimprinted by writing. also, there was laid up the golden pot full of manna, for a testimony that he had given the children of israel bread from heaven. and the rod of aaron, for a testimony that all power is from god. and the second tables of the law, in testimony of the covenant in which they had said, 'all that the lord hath spoken we will do.' [footnote 209] and on these accounts it is called the ark of the testimony or testament; and also the tabernacle of the testimony thence deriveth its title. but over the ark was made a mercy seat: of which we shall speak in the proeme of the fourth book. in imitation whereof some churches have over the altar an ark or tabernacle, in which the body of the lord and relics are preserved. the lord also commanded that a candlestick should be made of beaten pure gold. it is written in the third book of kings, that in the ark of the covenant was nothing else than the two tables of stone which moses put therein in horeb: when the lord made a covenant with the children of israel in the day that they came out of the land of egypt. [footnote 208: exodus xxv, 16.] [footnote 209: exodus xix, 8.] {36} 6. and note that in the time of s. silvester, pope, [footnote 210] constantine the emperor built the lateran church, in which he placed the ark of the testament, which the emperor titus had brought from jerusalem, and the golden candlestick with his seven branches. in which ark are these things: the rings and the staves of gold: the tables of the testimony: the rod of aaron: manna: barley loaves: the golden pot: the seamless garment: the reed: a garment of s. john baptist, and the scissors with which the hair of s. john the evangelist was shorn. [footnote 210: it is very remarkable that no notice whatever is taken of these relics by ciampini in his very minute description of the lateran basilica: although in his account both of this, and of all the other basilican churches built by constantine, he copies _verbatim_ the list of the donations of the emperor which is given in the life of pope s. sylvester, compiled by an unknown librarian of the vatican. it is clear that either durandus was misinformed, or that the present passage is corrupt. again, it is not likely that the vest of s. john baptist, or the scissors of s. john evangelist would have been kept in the ark besides its proper contents. yet durandus had obviously some facts to go upon, since the lateran church, having been originally dedicated to the saviour, was now under the invocation of the two ss. john; and the sufferings of both these saints were depicted in a very ancient mosaic, those of the evangelist having over them the following inscription, which we give as describing a confession of this _martyr in will_, now little known. martyrii calicem bibit hic athleta johannes principium verbi cernere qui meruit. verberat hunc fuste proconsul, _forfice tondet_, quem fervens oleum laedere non valuit. conditus hic oleum, dolium, cruor, atque capilli, quae consecrantur libera roma tibi. to return, we may be satisfied that these jewish memorials did not exist, since ciampini, while composing his account, consulted the former writers upon the lateran basilica; viz. the poet prudentius, an unedited ms. of panvinius, severanus de septem urbis ecclesiis, and the work of caesar cardinal rasponus.] 7. man, if he hath an altar, a table, a candlestick, and an ark, he is the temple of god. he must have an altar, whereon rightly to offer and rightly to distribute. the altar is our heart, on which we ought to offer. {37} whence the lord commandeth in exodus: 'thou shalt offer burnt offerings on mine altar.' [footnote 211] since from the heart words, set on fire of charity, ought to proceed. _holocaust_ is derived from _holos, whole_, and _cauma, a burning:_ therein signifying a thing wholly burnt. on this altar we must rightly offer, and we must rightly divide. we offer rightly when we bring any good thought to perfection. but we do not rightly divide if we do it not discreetly. for a man often thinketh to do good, and doeth ill: and sometimes with one hand he doeth good and with the other ill; and thus himself buildeth, and himself knocketh down. but we then rightly divide when the good which we do we attribute, not to ourselves, but to god alone. [footnote 211: exodus ix, 2.] 8. it behoveth also man to have a table, whence he may take the bread of the word of god. by the table we understand holy scripture, concerning which the psalm, 'thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies.' [footnote 212] that is, thou hast given me scripture against the temptations of the devil. this table then we must have, that is, must lay up in our minds, that thence we may take the word of god. of the deficiency of this bread saith jeremiah: 'the little ones sought bread, and there was none to break it unto them. [footnote 213] it behoveth man likewise to have a candlestick, that he may shine with good works. [footnote 212: psalm xxiii (_dominus regit me_), 5.] [footnote 213: jeremiah xvi, 7.] 9. a candlestick that giveth light without is a good work, which by its good example inflameth others. of which it is said, 'no man lighteth a candle and putteth it under a bushel, but in a candlestick.' [footnote 214] this candle, according to the word of the lord, is a good intention: of which he saith himself: 'thine eye is a light.' [footnote 215] but the eye is the intention. {38} therefore we ought not to put the candle under a bushel, but in a candlestick. because, if we have a good intention, we ought not to hide it: but to manifest our good deeds to others, for a light and an example. [footnote 214: s. matthew v, 15.] [footnote 215: s. matthew vi, 22.] 10. man must also have an ark. now _area_ is derived from _arcendo_: discipline, therefore, and regular life may be called the ark; by which crimes are driven away (_arcentur_) from us. now in the ark were the rod, the tables, and the manna: because in the regular life there must be the rod of correction, that the flesh may be chastised; and the table of love, that god may be loved. for in the tables of the law were written the commands which pertain to the love of god. therein must also be the manna of divine sweetness: that we may 'taste and see how gracious the lord is: for it is good to have to do with him.' [footnote 216] according to that proverb of the prudent woman, 'she tasted and saw that it was good.' [footnote 217] therefore, that we may be the temple of god, let us have in ourselves an altar of oblation, lest we appear empty in his presence, according to that saying, 'thou shalt not appear empty before the presence of thy god': [footnote 218] let us have a table for refection lest we faint, through hunger, in the way: as saith the evangelist, 'if i send them away empty, they will faint in the way,' [footnote 219] a candlestick by good works that we be not idle, as he saith in ecclesiasticus, 'idleness hath taught much mischief,' [footnote 220] let us have an ark, that we be not as sons of belial, that is, undisciplined, and without the yoke: for discipline is necessary, as the psalmist teacheth, saying, 'be instructed, lest he be angry.' [footnote 221] concerning which, and other ornaments, we shall speak in the following chapter. [footnote 216: psalm xxxiv (_benedicam dominum_), 8.] [footnote 217: prov. xxxi, 18. marg. reading.] [footnote 218: exodus xxiii, 15.] [footnote 219: s. mark viii, 3.] [footnote 220: ecclesiasticus xxii, 2.] [footnote 221: psalm ii (_quare fremuerunt_), 12.] {39} 11. he buildeth this altar who adorneth his heart with true humility and other virtues. whence gregory: he who gathereth together virtues without humility, is as he who scattereth dust to the wind. for by the altar he understandeth our heart, as it shall be said when we treat of the dedication of the altar: it is in the middle of the body, as the altar is in the middle of the church. [footnote 222] [footnote 222: lev. vi, 9.] 12. concerning which altar the lord commandeth in leviticus: 'the fire shall always be burning upon mine altar.' [footnote 223] the fire is charity. the altar is a clean heart. the fire shall always burn on the altar, because charity should always burn in our hearts. whence solomon in the canticles: 'many waters cannot extinguish charity,' [footnote 224] for that which ever burneth cannot be extinguished. do thou, therefore, as the prophet commandeth, keep holy day and a solemn assembly, even to the horns of the altar: because the rest of thy thoughts will keep holy day. concerning this the apostle showeth 'unto us a more excellent way.' [footnote 225] he calleth charity a more excellent way, because she is above all virtues: and whoever possesseth her possesseth all virtues. this is the short word that the lord speaketh over the earth: which is so short that it only saith, 'have charity, and do whatsoever thou wilt. for from these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.' [footnote 226] [footnote 223: canticles viii, 7.] [footnote 224: i corinth xii, 31.] [footnote 225: s. matthew xxii, 40.] [footnote 226: see appendix i.] 13. or by the altar we understand the soul of every man, which is by the lord built up of various living stones, which are various and different virtues. 14. furthermore, the white cloths wherewith the altar is covered signify the flesh of the saviour, that is, his humanity: because it was made white with many toils, as also the flesh of christ born of earth, that is, of mary, {40} which attained through many tribulations to the glory of the resurrection, and the purity and joy of immortality. [concerning which the son exulteth, saying to the father, 'thou hast girded me with gladness, and exalted me on every side.' [footnote 227] when, therefore, the altar is covered, it signifieth the joining of the soul to an immortal and incorruptible body.] [footnote 228] again, the altar is covered with white and clean cloths, because the pure heart is adorned with good works. whence the apocalypse: 'and put on white garments, that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear.' [footnote 229] and solomon: 'let thy garments be always white,' [footnote 230] that is, let thy works be clean. [but it little profiteth him that approacheth to the altar to have high dignity, and a life sunk low in sins. whence benedict: it is a monstrous thing, exalted faith, and abandoned life. the highest step and the lowest state, is mighty authority joined with instability of soul. [footnote 231]] the silken coverings placed over the altar are the ornaments of divers virtues wherewith the soul is adorned. the hanging wherewith the altar is beautified setteth forth the saints, as below shall be said. [the beginning and the end of the mass take place at the right side of the altar: the middle portion at the left: as shall be said when we treat of the changes of the priest. the ancients made their altars concave; as it is written in ezekiel, that in the altar of god was a trench. and this, according to gregory, lest the wind should scatter the sacrifices laid upon it. also he saith in ezekiel that the inner part of the altar was bent downwards in all its circumference. [footnote 232] [footnote 227: psalm lxxi (_juste, domine_), 21. ] [footnote 228: this passage does not appear in the edition of durandus published at venice, in 1609.] [footnote 229: apocalypse iii, 18.] [footnote 230: ecclesiastes ix, 8.] [footnote 231: this passage also is not found in the venetian edition.] [footnote 232: this passage also is not found in the venetian edition.] {41} 15. but the steps to the altar [spiritually set forth the apostles and martyrs of christ, who for his love poured out their blood. the bride in the canticles of love calleth it a purple ascent. also, the fifteen virtues are set forth by them: which were also typified by the fifteen steps by which they went up to the temple of solomon:] [footnote 233] and by the prophet in fifteen psalms of degrees, therein setting forth that he is blest who maketh ascents in his heart. this was the ladder that jacob beheld: 'and his top reached to the heavens.' by these steps the ascent of virtues is sufficiently made manifest, by which we go up to the altar, that is, to christ: according to that saying of the psalmist, 'they go from virtue to virtue.' [footnote 234] and job, 'i will seek him through all my steps.' yet it is said in exodus, 'neither shalt thou go up by steps to my altar, that thy nakedness be not discovered thereon.' [footnote 235] for perhaps the ancients did not as yet use trousers. in the council of toledo, it is decreed that the priest, who for the sake of grief at the misfortune of another, strippeth the altar or any image of its garments, [or girdeth himself with a mourning vest, or with thorns, [footnote 236]] or extinguisheth the lights of the church, shall be deposed. but if his church be undeservedly spoiled, he is allowed to do this for grief: or, according to some, he may on the day of the passion of our lord make bare the altars as a sign of grief. which is, however, reprobated by the council of lyons. lastly, altars which have been built at the instigation of dreams, or the empty revelations of men, are altogether reprobated. [footnote 233: this passage also is not found in the venetian edition.] [footnote 234: psalm lxxxiv (_quam dilecta_), 7] [footnote 235: exodus xx, 26.] [footnote 236: this passage also is not found in the venetian edition.] {42} chapter iii of pictures, and images, and curtains, and the ornaments of churches use of pictures and curtains--objections against the use, answered-place of pictures--the saviour, how represented--the angels--the evangelists--the apostles--the patriarchs--s. john baptist-martyrs--confessors--institution of pictures--of crowns--of paradise--of the general ornament of churches--of pyxes--of relicaries--of candlesticks--of cups--of the cross--of altar cloths and veils--the treasures of the church, when displayed, and why--of ostrich eggs--of vessels for the holy mysteries--of chalices--general observations on the respect due to church ornaments. 1. pictures and ornaments in churches are the lessons and the scriptures of the laity. whence gregory: it is one thing to adore a picture, and another by means of a picture historically to learn what should be adored. for what writing supplieth to him which can read, that doth a picture supply to him which is unlearned, and can only look. because they who are uninstructed thus see what they ought to follow: and _things_ are read, though letters be unknown. true is it that the chaldeans, which worship fire, compel others to do the same, and burn other idols. but paynim adore images, as icons, and idols; which saracens do not, who neither will possess nor look on images, grounding themselves on that saying, 'thou shalt not make to thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of anything that is in heaven above, nor in the earth beneath, nor in the waters {43} under the earth,' [footnote 237] and on other the like authorities: these they follow incontinently, casting the same in our teeth. but we worship not images, nor account them to be gods, nor put any hope of salvation in them: for that were idolatry. yet we adore them for the memory and remembrance of things done long agone. [footnote 238 ] whence the verse, [footnote 239] what time thou passest by the rood, bow humbly evermore; yet not the rood, but him which there was crucified, adore. and again: [footnote 240] that thing, which hath his being given, 'tis fond for god to own: a form material, carved out by cunning hands, in stone. and again: [footnote 241] the form is neither god nor man, which here thou dost behold: he very god and man, of whom thou by that form art told. [footnote 237: exodus xx, 4.] [footnote 238: _veneramur_.--we here use the word _adore_ in the sense given to it by the great and good bishop montague, in his 'just treatise of invocation': where he says, speaking of the saints, 'i do admire, reverence, _adore_ them in their kind.'] [footnote 239: effigiem christi, quum transis, pronus honora: non tamen effigiem, sed quem designat, adora.] [footnote 240: esse deum, ratione caret, cui consulit esse: materiale lapis, effigale manus.] [footnote 241: nec deus est, nec homo, quam praesens cernis imago; sed deus est et homo, quem sacra figurat imago. the later editions add- nam deus est, quod imago docet, sed non deus ipse; hunc videas, sed mente colas, quod noscis in ipsa.] 2. the greeks, moreover, employ painted representations, painting, it is said, only from the navel upwards, that all occasion of vain thoughts may be removed. but they make no carved image, as it is written, 'thou shalt not make a graven image.' [footnote 242] and again: 'thou shalt not make an idol, nor a graven image.' [footnote 243] and again, 'lest ye be deceived, and make a graven image.' [footnote 244] and again: 'ye shall not make unto you gods of silver: [footnote 245] {44} neither shall ye make with me gods of gold.' so also the prophet, 'their idols are silver and gold, the work of man's hand. they that make them are like unto them: and so are all they that put their trust in them.' [footnote 246] and again: 'confounded be all they that worship graven images: and that put their glory in their idols.' [footnote 247] [footnote 242: deut. v, 8.] [footnote 243: lev. xxvi. 1.] [footnote 244: deut. iv, 16.] [footnote 245: exodus xx, 20.] [footnote 246: psalm cxv, 4.] [footnote 247: psalm xcvii, 7.] 3. also, moses saith to the children of israel, 'lest perchance thou shouldest be deceived, and shouldest worship that which the lord thy god hath created.' [footnote 248] hence also was it that hezekiah king of judah brake in pieces the brazen serpent which moses set up: because the people, contrary to the precepts of the law, burnt incense to it. [footnote 248: deut. iv, 19.] 4. from these forementioned and other authorities, the excessive use of images is forbidden. the apostle saith also to the corinthians, 'we know that an idol is nothing in the world: and there is no god but one.' [footnote 249] for they who are simple and infirm may easily by an excessive and indiscreet use of images, be perverted to idolatry. whence he saith in wisdom, 'there shall be no respect of the idols of the nations, which have made the creatures of god hateful, and temptations for the souls of men, and snares for the feet of the unwise.' [footnote 250] [footnote 251] but blame there is none in a moderate use of pictures, to teach how ill is to be avoided, and good followed. [footnote 249: i corinth, viii, 4.] [footnote 250: wisdom xiv, 11.] [footnote 251: a more solemn protest against the sin of idolatry can hardly be found than the above passage: and they who brand every return to, and every wish for the restoration of, catholic practices, by so hateful a name, would do well to bear it in mind.] {45} whence saith the lord to ezekiel, 'go in, and behold the abominations which these men do. and he went in, and saw the likeness of reptiles and beasts, and the abominations, and all the idols of the house of israel portrayed on the wall.' [footnote 252] whence saith pope gregory in his pastorale, when the forms of external objects are drawn into the heart, they are as it were painted there, because the thoughts of them are their images. again, he saith to the same ezekiel, 'take a tile, and lay it before thee, and describe in it the city jerusalem.' [footnote 253] but that which is said above, that pictures are the letters of the laity explaineth that saying in the gospel, 'he saith. they have moses and the prophets: let them hear them.' [footnote 254] of this, more hereafter. the agathensian [footnote 255] council forbids pictures in churches: and also that that which is worshipped and adored should be painted on the walls. but gregory saith, that pictures are not to be put away because they are not to be worshipped: for paintings appear to move the mind more than descriptions; for deeds are placed before the eyes in paintings, and so appear to be actually carrying on. but in description, the deed is done as it were by hearsay: which affecteth the mind less when recalled to memory. hence, also, is it that in churches we pay less reverence to books than to images and pictures. [footnote 252: ezekiel viii, 10.] [footnote 253: ezekiel iv, 1.] [footnote 254: s. luke xvi, 29.] [footnote 255: a.d. 605] 5. of pictures and images some are above the church, as the cock and the eagle: some without the church, namely, in the air in front of the church, as the ox and the cow: others within, as images, and statues, and various kinds of painting and sculpture: and these be represented either in garments, or on walls, or in stained glass. concerning some of which we have spoken in treating of the church: and how they are taken from the tabernacle of moses and the temple of solomon. for moses made carved work, and solomon made carved work, and pictures, and adorned the walls with paintings and frescoes. {46} 6. the image of the saviour is more commonly represented in churches three ways: as sitting on [footnote 256] his throne, or hanging on his cross, or lying on the bosom of his mother. [footnote 256: durandus had doubtless in his mind the ancient mosaic over the apsides of the earliest churches in rome. the extremely beautiful one in san clemente represents our lord as crucified. the frescoes with which the walls of our own churches were anciently adorned, seem usually to have represented the saviour as seated on the throne of his majesty. in the chancel of widford, herts, is, or was till lately, a fresco of the saviour seated on a rainbow, a sword proceeding from his mouth, his feet and his hands pierced. in alfriston, sussex, there was, we believe, before it was whitewashed over by bishop buckner's order, a painting of a similar kind. there is a singular, and, we believe, undescribed painting over the altar in llandanwg church, merion. the saviour is seated in judgment, as before: at his side is his blessed mother in a kneeling posture: around him are angels blowing trumpets, and s. peter in eucharistical vestments. there is a representation of the souls under the altar. below are devils torturing souls in cauldrons of brimstone. the evangelistic symbols are also represented. in a fresco at beverstone, gloucestershire, our saviour is represented on the cross, with blood flowing from his side into a chalice. (see app. i.) there are remains also of a crucifixion in fresco, in the exquisite, but desecrated chapel of prior crauden, in the deanery, ely. on the iconostasis of the greco-russian church, all the three positions are to be found. in stained glass, the crucifixion generally supplies the place of any other representation of the saviour. brasses occasionally, as a very curious one in cobham, surrey, represent his nativity or epiphany: but most commonly the crucifixion, or a trinity. there can be no doubt, that many of the most graphic pictures in our old poets owed their origin to the then undestroyed fresco paintings of churches. some painting, like that above described, of hell, very probably suggested the noble lines of spenser (i. ix. 50. 6): he showed him painted in a table plaine. the damned ghosts that doe in torments waile. and thousand feends that doe them endless paine with fire and brimstone, which for ever shall remaine. who can estimate the effect of such pictorial representations on the minds of our ancestors? or the good which might be the result, if our churches were again frescoed with similar subjects, wrought with the genius and catholic feeling of an overbeck or cornelius?] [end footnote] and because john baptist pointed to him, saying, 'behold the lamb of god,' [footnote 257] therefore some represented christ under the form of a lamb. [footnote 257: s. john i, 29.] {47} but because the light passeth away, and because christ is very man, therefore, saith adrian, pope, he must be represented in the form of a man. a holy lamb must not be depicted on the cross, as a principal object: but there is no let when christ hath been represented as a man, to paint a lamb in a lower or less prominent part of the picture: since he is the true lamb which 'taketh away the sins of the world.' in these and divers other manners is the image of the saviour painted, on account of diversity of significations. 7. represented in the cradle, the artist commemorateth his nativity: on the bosom of his mother, his childhood: the painting or carving his cross signifieth his passion (and sometimes the sun and moon are represented on the cross itself, as suffering an eclipse): when depicted on a flight of steps, his ascension is signified: when on a state or lofty throne, we be taught his present power: as if he said, 'all things are given to me in heaven and in earth:' [footnote 258] according to that saying, 'i saw the lord sitting upon his throne:' [footnote 259] that is, reigning over the angels: as the text, 'which sitteth upon the cherubim.' [footnote 260] sometimes he is represented as he was seen of moses and aaron, nadab and abihu, on the mountain: when 'under his feet was as it were a paved work of sapphire stones, and as the body of heaven in his clearness:' [footnote 261] and as 'they shall see,' as saith s. luke, 'the son of man coming in the clouds with power and great glory. [footnote 262] wherefore sometimes he is represented surrounded by the seven angels that serve him, and stand by his throne, each being portrayed with six wings, according to the vision of isaiah, 'and by it stood the seraphim: each one had six wings: with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.' [footnote 263] [footnote 258: s. matt, xxviii, 18.] [footnote 259: isaiah vi, 1.] [footnote 260: psalm lxxx, 1.] [footnote 261: exodus xxiv, 10.] [footnote 262: s. matthew xxiv, 30.] [footnote 263: isaiah vi, 2.] {48} 8. the angels are also represented as in the flower of youthful age: for they never grow old. [footnote 264] sometimes s. michael is represented trampling the dragon, according to that of john, 'there was war in heaven: michael fought with the dragon.' which was to represent the dissensions of the angels: the confirmation of them that were good, and the ruin of them that were bad: or the persecution of the faithful in the church militant. sometimes the twenty-four elders are painted around the saviour, according to the vision of the said john, with 'white garments, and they have on their heads crowns of gold.' [footnote 265]by which are signified the doctors of the old and new testament; which are twelve, on account of faith in the holy trinity preached through the _four_ quarters of the world: or twenty-four, on account of good works, and the keeping of the gospels. [footnote 266] if the seven lamps be added, the gifts of the holy spirit are represented: if the sea of glass, baptism. [footnote 267] [footnote 264: many of our readers will call to mind the peculiar expression always given to the countenances of angels in catholic illuminations or paintings, a conventional propriety uniformly neglected by modern artists. the same character was beautifully given in the relieved figures of angels upon the shrine of s. henry lately exhibiting in london.] [footnote 265: apocalypse xii, 7.] [footnote 266: apocalypse iv, 4.] [footnote 267: this very obscure passage is an instance of the symbolism in the combination of numbers. it seems to mean that faith in the holy trinity preached through the four quarters of the world, may be represented by three multiplied into four or twelve: and again, this symbolical fact multiplied by general good works and keeping of the gospels, may be set forth in twenty-four. it is to be remarked that the princeps edition alone gives _evangeliorum_: the later have _evangelistarum_, which with _observantia_ is scarcely intelligible. compare s. august, expos. in psalm lxxxvi. non solum ergo illi duodecim (sc. apostoli) et apostolus paulus, sed quotquot judicaturi sunt, propter significationem universitatis ad sedes duodenas pertinent . . . partes enim mundi quatuor sunt, oriens, occidens, aquilo, et meridies. istae quatuor partes assidue inveniuntur in scripturis. ab istis quatuor ventus, sicut dixit dominus in evangelio vocatur ecclesia. quomodo vocatur? undique in trinitate vocatur. quatuor ergo ter ducta duodecim inveniuntur. see also s. isidore, alleg. in s. s. folio 353, c. d.] 9. sometimes also representation is made of the four living creatures spoken of in the visions of ezekiel and the aforesaid john: the face of a man and the face of a {49} lion on the right,--the face of an ox on the left, and the face of an eagle above the four. these be the four evangelists. whence they be painted with books by their feet, because by their words and writings they have instructed the minds of the faithful, and accomplished their own works. matthew hath the figure of a man, mark of a lion. these be painted on the right hand: because the nativity and the resurrection of christ were the general joy of all: whence in the psalms: 'and gladness at the morning.' [footnote 268] but luke is the ox: because he beginneth from zachary the priest, and treateth more specially of the passion and sacrifice of christ: now the ox is an animal fitted for sacrifice. he is also compared to the ox, because of the two horns,--as containing the two testaments; and the four hoofs, as having the sentences of the four evangelists. [footnote 269]by this also christ is figured, who was the sacrifice for us: and therefore the ox is painted on the left side, because the death of christ was the trouble of the apostles. concerning this, and how blessed mark [footnote 270] is depicted, in the seventh part. but john hath the figure of the eagle: because, soaring to the utmost height, he saith, 'in the beginning was the word.' [footnote 271] [footnote 268: psalm xxx (_exaltabo te_), 5. these symbols, however, were not at first definitely settled, and as we are informed by s. austin, the lion was sometimes given to s. matthew and the angel and or man, to s. mark. the reasons of the appropriation of the various symbols are beautifully expressed in a hymn quoted in the camden's society's 'illustrations of monumental brasses,' part i, p. 30.] [footnote 269: this passage is very obscure. durandus's words are, _quasi quatuor evangelistorum sententias_. we cannot but think that the two sentences have been misplaced. the sense is then plain. christ is also signified by the ox--as containing in himself the law and the gospel--and accomplishing that which is written of him by the four evangelists, e.g. his promises of the descent of the holy ghost, of being always with his church, etc. s. peter chrysologus, sermo v. de christo, hic est _vitulus_, qui in epulam nostram quotidie, et jugiter immolatur.] [footnote 270: s. mark is painted with a contracted brow, a large nose, fair eyes, bald, a long beard, fair complexion, of middle age, with a few grey hairs. durand. vii, 44, 4.] [footnote 271: s. john i, 1.] {50} this also representeth christ, 'whose youth is renewed like the eagle's': [footnote 272] because, rising from the dead, he ascendeth into heaven. here, however, it is not portrayed as by the side, but as above, since it denoteth the ascension, and the word pronounced of god. but how, since each of the living creatures hath four faces and four wings, they can be depicted, shall be said hereafter. [footnote 273] [footnote 272: psalm ciii (_benedic, anima mea_), 5.] [footnote 273: durandus, book vii, 44, 's. matthew is signified by a man, because his gospel is principally occupied concerning the humanity of christ: whence his history beginneth from his human pedigree. s. mark by a lion, which roareth in the desert: for he chiefly describeth the resurrection: whence his gospel is read on easter day. but the lion is said to rouse his whelps on the third day after their birth. his gospel beginneth, 'the voice of one crying in the wilderness.' s. luke by the ox, an animal fit for sacrifice: because he dwelleth on the passion of christ. s. john by the eagle, because he soareth to the divinity of christ, while the others walk with their lord on earth. the evangelists be likewise set forth by the four rivers of paradise: john by pison; matthew by gihon; luke by euphrates; mark by tigris:--as is clearly proved by innocent iii, in a certain sermon on the evangelists.'--we may add, that the finest representation of the evangelistic symbols with which we are acquainted in this country', occurs in the chancel of oxted church, surrey.] 10. sometimes there are painted around, or rather beneath, the apostles; who were his witnesses by deed and word to the ends of the earth: and they are portrayed with long hair, as nazarenes, that is, holy persons. for the law of the nazarenes was this: from the time of their separation from the ordinary life of man, no razor passed upon their heads. they are also sometimes painted under the form of twelve sheep: because they were slain like sheep for the lord's sake: and sometimes the twelve tribes of israel are so represented. when, however, more or less sheep than twelve are painted, then another thing is signified, according to that saying of matthew, 'when the son of man shall come in his glory--then shall he sit on the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations, and he shall separate them one from the other, as a {51} shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats.' [footnote 274] how the apostles bartholomew and andrew are to be painted, shall be said hereafter. [footnote 275] [footnote 274: s. matthew xxv, 1.] [footnote 275: s. bartholomew is represented with black and grizzled hair, fair complexion, large eyes, straight nose, long beard, few grey hairs, moderate height, with a high white neck, clothed in purple, with a white pall, having purple gems at each angle. durand. vii, 25, 2. s. andrew had a dark complexion, long beard, moderate height. this is therefore said, that ye may know how he ought to be painted: which should be known of the other apostles and saints. durand. vii, 38, i.] 11. and note that the patriarchs and prophets are painted with wheels in their hands. some of the apostles with books and some with wheels: namely, because before the advent of christ the faith was set forth under figures, and many things were not yet made clear; to represent this, the patriarchs and prophets are painted with wheels, to signify that imperfect knowledge. but because the apostles were perfectly taught of christ, therefore the books, which are the emblems of this perfect knowledge, are open. but because some of them reduced their knowledge in writing, to the instruction of others, therefore fittingly they are represented with books in their hands like doctors. so paul, and the evangelists, peter, james, and jude. but others, who wrote nothing which has lasted, or been received into the canon by the church, are not portrayed with books but with wheels, as a type of their preaching. whence the apostle to the ephesians, 'and he gave some apostles, and some prophets, and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers for the work of the ministry.' [footnote 276] [footnote 276: ephes. iv, 11.] 12. but the divine majesty is also portrayed with a closed book in the hands: 'which no man was found worthy to open but the lion of the tribe of juda.' [footnote 277] and sometimes with an open book: that in it every one may read that 'he is the light of the world': [footnote 278] and the way, the truth, and the life': [footnote 279] and the book of life [is also portrayed]. but why paul is represented at the right, and peter at the left of the saviour, we shall show hereafter. [footnote 277: apocalypse v, 2.] [footnote 278: s. john viii, 12.] [footnote 279: s. john xiv, 6.] {52} 13. john baptist is painted as a hermit. 14. martyrs with the instruments of their torture: as s. laurence with the gridiron: s. stephen with stones: and sometimes with palms, which signify victory, according to that saying, 'the righteous shall flourish like a palm-tree: [footnote 280] as a palm-tree [footnote 281] flourishes, so his memory is preserved. hence is it that palmers, they who come from jerusalem, bear palms in their hands in token that they have been the soldiers of that king who was gloriously received in the earthly jerusalem with palms: and who afterwards, having in the same city subdued the devil in battle, entered the palace of heaven in triumph with his angels, where the just shall flourish like a palm-tree, and shall shine like stars. [footnote 280: psalm xcii, 12.] [footnote 281: this explanation differs from that usually received: namely, that the righteous flourishes best in adversity: as the palm-tree grows fasteth when loaded with weights.] 15. confessors are painted with their insignia, as bishops with their mitres, abbots with their hoods: and some with lilies, [footnote 282] which denote chastity. doctors with books in their hands: virgins, according to the gospel, [footnote 283] with lamps. [footnote 282: so in the beautiful hymn at lauds in the commemoration of a virgin martyr, of the parisian breviary: liliis sponsus recubat, rosisque; tu, tuo semper bene fida sponso et rosas martyr, simul et dedisti _lilia virgo_.] [footnote 283: s. matthew xxv, 1.] 16. paul with a book and a sword: with a book, as a doctor, or with reference to his conversion: with a sword as [footnote 284] a soldier. whence the verse: the sword denotes the ire of saul, the book, the power converting paul. [footnote 284: this is undoubtedly a mistake: the sword represents in this case, as in others, the instrument of martyrdom.] {53} 17. generally the effigies of the holy fathers are portrayed on the walls of the church, or on the back panels of the altar, or on vestments, or in other various places, so that we may meditate perpetually, not indiscreetly or uselessly, on their holiness. whence in exodus it is commanded by the divine law, that in the breast of aaron, the breastplate of judgment should be bound [footnote 285] with strings: because fleeting thoughts should not occupy the mind of a priest, which should be girt by reason alone. in this breastplate also, according to gregory, the names of the twelve patriarchs are commanded to be carefully inscribed. [footnote 285: exodus xxviii, 22.] 18. to bear the fathers thus imprinted on the breast, is to meditate on the lives of ancient saints without intermission. but then doth the priest walk blamelessly when he gazeth continually on the example of the fathers which have gone before, when he considereth without ceasing the footsteps of the saints, and represseth unholy thoughts, lest he wander beyond the limits of right reason. 19. it is to be noted that the saviour is always represented as crowned, as if he said, 'come forth, children of jerusalem, and behold king solomon in the diadem with which his mother crowned him.' [footnote 286] but christ was triply crowned. first by his mother on the day of his conception, with crown of pity: which was a double crown: on account of what he had by nature, and what was given him: therefore also it is called a diadem, which is a double crown. secondly, by his step-mother in the day of his passion, with the crown of misery. thirdly, by his father in the day of his resurrection, with the crown of glory: whence it is written, 'o lord, {54} thou hast crowned him with glory and honour.' [footnote 287] lastly, he shall be crowned by his whole family, in the last day of revelation, with the crown of power. for he shall come with the judges of the earth to judge the world in righteousness. so also all saints are portrayed as crowned, as if they said: ye children of jerusalem, behold the martyrs with the golden crowns wherewith the lord hath crowned them. and in the book of wisdom: 'the just shall receive a kingdom of glory, and a beautiful diadem from the hand of their god.' [footnote 288] [footnote 286: canticles iii, 11.] [footnote 287: psalm viii (_domine dominus_), 5.] [footnote 288: wisdom v, 16.] 20. but their crown is made in the fashion of a round shield: because the saints enjoy the divine protection. whence they sing with joy: 'lord, thou hast crowned us with the shield of thy favour.' [footnote 289] but the crown of christ is represented under the figure of a cross: [footnote 290] and is thereby distinguished from that of the saints: because by the banner of his cross he gained for himself the glorification of his humanity, and for us freedom from our captivity, and the enjoyment of everlasting life. but when any living [footnote 291]prelate or saint is portrayed, the glory is not fashioned in the shape of a shield, but four-square: that he may be shown to flourish in the four cardinal virtues: as it is contained in [footnote 292] the legend of blessed gregory. [footnote 289: psalm v (_verba mea_), 12.] [footnote 290: see appendix i.] [footnote 291: this does not appear to have prevailed in england. the nearest contemporary effigy of a saint which we have observed in stained glass, is that of s. thomas, of hereford, in the church of cothelstone, somersetshire. here the glory is, as usual, of the circular form. as also in the fresco of the martyrdom of s. thomas of canterbury, in preston church. sussex, which is nearly contemporary. (see appendix 1.)] [footnote 292: this refers to the account given by paulus diaconus of the visible effulgence which surrounded the head of this great doctor when he was dictating his works.] {55} 21. again, sometimes paradise is painted in churches, that it may attract the beholders to a following after its rewards: sometimes hell, that it may terrify them by the fear of punishment.' [footnote 293] sometimes flowers [footnote 294] are portrayed, and trees: to represent the fruits of good works springing from the roots of virtues. [footnote 293: a monk named constantine set before the prince those judgments of god which are in all the world, and the retribution of the life to come: his discourse powerfully affected the heathen monarch (vladimir, afterwards s. vladimir); and this was particularly the case when the monk pointed out to him on an icon, which represented the last judgment, the different lot of the good and the wicked. "good to those on the right hand--woe to those on the left," exclaimed vladimir, deeply affected.'--mouravieff's 'hist, of the russian church,' p. 11, on which his translator, the rev. r. w. blackmore, sensibly remarks, 'whatever may be the right view of the abstract question respecting icons, and the showing outward respect to them, the russians at least cannot reasonably be blamed for revering a usage which was made the means, in part at least, of so blessed a result as the conversion of the great prince vladimir, the constantine of their church and nation.'] [footnote 294: this flower work is excessively common in norman churches: that of s. sepulchre's, at cambridge, was a notable example of it. ] 22. now the variety of pictures denoteth the diversity of virtues. for 'to one is given by the spirit the word of wisdom: to another the word of knowledge,' etc. [footnote 295] but virtues are represented under the forms of women: because they soothe and nourish. again, by the ceilings or vaultings, which are for the beauty of the house, the more unlearned servants of christ are set forth, who adorn the church, not by their learning, but by their virtues alone. [footnote 295: i corinth, xii, 8. ] the carved images which project from the walls, appear as it were to be coming out of it: because when by reiterated custom virtues so pertain to the faithful, that they seem naturally implanted in them, they are exercised in all their various operations. how a synagogue is depicted, shall be said hereafter: as also how the pall of the roman pontiff: and the year [footnote 296]and the zodiacal signs and its months. but the diverse histories of the old and new testaments may be represented after the fancy of the painter. for pictoribus atque poetis quod libet [footnote 297] addendi semper fuit seque potestas. [footnote 296: these are often to be found round norman doors: as in that of s. laurence, at york, and egleton, rutland.] [footnote 297: a false reading, of course; yet not without its appropriate sense--the power of _adding_ any ornamental circumstance to the main subject.] {56} 23. furthermore, the ornaments of the church consist of three things:--the ornaments of the nave, [footnote 298]the choir, and the altar. the ornaments of the nave consist in dorsals, tapestry, mattings, and cushions of silk, purple, and the like. the ornaments of the choir consist in dorsals, tapestry, carpets, and cushions. dorsals are hangings of cloth at the back of the clergy. mattings, for their feet. tapestry is likewise strewed under the feet, particularly under the feet of bishops, who ought to trample worldly things under their feet. cushions are placed on the seats or benches of the choir. [footnote 298: _ecclesiae:_ here undoubtedly the nave: as often _church_ is so used in our prayer-book.] 24. but the ornament of the altar consists in portfolios, altar cloths, relicaries, candlesticks, crosses, an orfray, banners, missals, coverings, and curtains. 25. and notice, that the portfolio in which the consecrated host is kept, signifieth the frame of the blessed virgin, concerning which it is said in the psalms, 'arise, o lord into thy resting place.' [footnote 299] which sometimes is of wood: sometimes of white ivory: sometimes of silver: sometimes of gold: sometimes of crystal: and according to the different substances of which it is made, designateth the various dignities of the body of christ. again, the pyx which containeth the host, whether consecrated or not consecrated, typifieth the human memory. for a man ought to hold in remembrance continually the benefits of god, as well temporal, which are represented by the unconsecrated, as spiritual, which are set forth by the consecrated host. {57} which was also set forth by the urn in which god commanded that the manna should be deposited: which, albeit it was temporal, prefigured nevertheless this our spiritual sacrifice, when the lord commanded that it should be laid up for an everlasting memorial unto future generations. but the pyx, being placed on the altar, which is christ, signifieth apostles and martyrs. and the altar cloths and coverings are confessors and virgins, or all saints: of whom saith the prophet to the lord, 'thou shalt be clothed with them as with a garment.' and of these we have spoken above. [footnote 299: psalm cxxxii (_domine, memento_), 8.] 26. now there is a difference between _phylacterium_ and _phylacteria_. _phylacterium_ is a scroll on which the ten commandments were written: and this kind of scroll the pharisees used to wear on the front part of their garments, as a sign of devotion. whence in the gospel, 'they make broad their phylacteries.' [footnote 300] and the word is derived from _philare_, which is _to keep_, and _teras_, which is _law_. but _phylacteria_ (a relicary) is a vessel of silver or gold, or crystal, or ivory, or some substance of the same kind, in which the ashes and relics of the saints are kept. for when vigilantius called the faithful _cinericii_, [footnote 301] because they preserved the ashes themselves, to testify contempt of his decision, it was ordered by the church that they should be honourably preserved in precious vessels. and the name is derived from _philare_, which is to _preserve_, and _teron_, which is an extremity, because in them some {58} portion of the extremities of the bodies of saints is preserved: such as a tooth or a finger, or somewhat of the like kind. over the altar in some churches also is placed a shrine: of which we have spoken in our section on the altar. [footnote 300: s. matthew xxiii, 5.] [footnote 301: ais, vigilantium, qui [greek text] hoc vocatur nomine (nam dormitantius rectius diceretur), os foetidum rursum aperire, et putorem spurcissimum contra sanctorum martyrum proferre relliquias, et nos, qui eas suscepimus, appellare _cinerarios_.--s. hieron, in epp. see also the 'church of the fathers,' 2nd ed. chapter xv.] 27. at the horns of the altar [footnote 302] two candlesticks are placed to signify the joy of jews and gentiles at the nativity of christ: which candlesticks, by means of a flint, have their wicks lighted. for the angel saith to the shepherds, 'i bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people: for to you is born this day the saviour of the world. [footnote 303] he is the true _isaac_, [footnote 304] which being interpreted, is laughter. now the light of the candlestick is the faith of the people. for to the jewish people, saith the prophet, 'arise, shine, for thy light is come: and the glory of the lord is risen upon thee.' [footnote 305] but to the gentiles the apostle saith, 'ye were sometimes darkness, but are now light in the lord.' [footnote 306] for before the birth of christ a new star appeared to the wise men, according to the prophecy of balaam. 'there shall rise,' saith he, 'a star out of jacob, and a sceptre out of israel.' [footnote 307] concerning this we have also spoken in our section of the altar. [footnote 302: this use of _two_ candlesticks is very remarkable: as giving fresh authority to the custom of the english church. ] [footnote 303: s. luke ii, 10.] [footnote 304: genesis xvii, 17, 19.] [footnote 305: isaiah lx, 1. ] [footnote 306: ephes. v, 8. ] [footnote 307: numbers xxiv, 7.] 28. the snuffers or scissors for trimming the lamps are the divine words by which men amputate the legal titles of the law, and reveal the shining spirit, according to that saying, 'ye shall eat old store, and bring forth the old because of the new.' [footnote 308] the vessels in the which the wicks, when snuffed, are extinguished, are the hearts of the faithful, which admit the legal observance to the letter. [footnote 308: leviticus xxvi, 10.] {59} 29. again, the tongs, by the double tooth of which the fire is arranged, are preachers; who instruct us by the accordant pages of both testaments, and by their behaviour setting us right, inflame us to the practice of charity. 30. but the scuta, that is cups, of equal size at top and bottom, made for warming water, are those doctors who do not conceal the treasure of their hearts: but 'bring forth out of it things new and old': [footnote 309] as a 'candle which is not put under a bushel, but in a candlestick,' [footnote 310]that they who are in the house of the lord may receive the light and the heat of the holy ghost. [footnote 309: s. matthew xiii, 52.] [footnote 310: s. matthew v, 15.] 31. the cross also is to be placed on the altar that the cross-bearers may thence raise it: in which action we commemorate how simon the cyrenian took the cross from the shoulders of christ and bore it. between the two candlesticks the cross is placed on the altar: because christ standeth in the church, the mediator between two peoples. for he is the corner-stone, 'who hath made both one': [footnote 311] to whom the shepherds came from judaea, and the wise men from the east. concerning this we shall hereafter speak in another sense, when treating of the priest's approach to the altar. [footnote 311: ephesians ii, 14.] 32. again, the front of the altar is ornamented with an orfray. as it is written: 'thou shalt make me an altar, and shalt make a crown in a circle about it of four fingers' breadth.' [footnote 312] the altar, ye know, sometimes signifieth the heart: in which the sacrifice of true faith must be offered by contrition: and then the orfray signifieth the taking in hand of a good occupation: wherewith we ought to adorn our foreheads, that we may give light to others. sometimes the altar signifieth christ: and then by the orfray the ornament of charity {60} is fitly represented. for as gold hath the superiority over all metals, so hath charity over other virtues. whence the apostle, in the first to the corinthians: 'but the greatest of these is charity.' [footnote 313] for our faith ought to be adorned with the orfray of charity, that we may be ready to lay down our lives for christ's sake. banners are also suspended above the altars: that in the church that triumph of christ may evermore be held in mind, by which we also hope to triumph over our enemy. [footnote 312: exodus xxvii, 4.] [footnote 313: i corinth, xiii, 13.] 33. the book of the gospel is fixed on the altar, because the gospel hath christ for its author, and beareth witness, to him. which book is therefore adorned on his outside, for the cause that we shall make mention of hereafter. next, the vessels and utensils in the house of the lord had their origin from moses and solomon: which in the old testament were many and diverse, as it is written in exodus, and having divers significations, concerning which, for the sake of brevity, we will not in this place treat. 34. now all things which pertain to the ornament of a church, must be removed or covered over in the season of lent: which according to some taketh place on passion sunday, because after that time the divinity of christ was hidden and concealed in him. for he gave himself up to be betrayed and scourged, as if he were only man, and had not in him the virtue of divinity: whence in the gospel of this day it is written, 'but jesus hid himself, and went out of the temple.' [footnote 314] [footnote 314: s. john viii, 59.] then therefore the crosses are covered, that is, the virtue of his divinity is hidden. others do this from the first sunday of lent: because after that time the church beginneth to treat of his passion. whence in that time the cross must not be borne in procession {61} from the church, except it be covered; and, according to the use of some places, two coverings or curtains are then only retained: of which the one is hung all round the choir, the other is suspended between the altar and the choir: that those things which be within the holy of holies may not appear. in that the sanctuary and cross are then veiled, we be taught the letter of the law, that is, its carnal observance, or that the understanding of holy scriptures before the passion of christ was veiled, hidden, and obscure: and that in that time there was a veil: that is, men had an obscurity before their eyes. it signifieth also the sword which was set before the gate of paradise: because the carnal observance we have spoken of, and this obscurity, and the sword at the gate of paradise, were removed by the passion of christ. therefore the curtains and veils of this kind are removed on good friday. but in that in the old testament, there were beasts that chewed the cud, and cleft the hoof, as oxen used in ploughing, that is discerning and spiritually perceiving the mysteries of scripture: therefore in lent only a few priests, to whom 'it is given to know the mysteries of the kingdom of god' [footnote 315] go behind the veil. [footnote 315: st. matthew xiii, 11.] 35. concerning this it is to be noted that there be three kinds of veils which be hung in churches: that which concealeth the mysteries: that which divideth the sanctuary from the clergy: that which divideth the clergy from the laity. the first denoteth the law: the second denoteth our unworthiness, in that we are unworthy, nay unable to behold things celestial. the third is the coercion of our carnal pleasures. the first, namely, the curtain that is hung from each side of the altar, when the priest goeth into the holy place, is typified by that which is written in exodus. {62} 'moses put a veil over his face, for the children of israel could not sustain the brightness of his countenance.' [footnote 316] and as the apostle saith, 'even to this day is this veil over the hearts of the jews. [footnote 317] the second, namely the curtain that in the office of the mass during lent is suspended before the altar, was set forth by the veil which was hung up in the tabernacle, and divided the holy of holies from the holy place, as shall be declared in the proeme to the fourth part: by which the ark was concealed from the people: and it was wrought cunningly, and adorned with a fair variety of devices. this was it that was rent in the passion of the lord: and after its pattern, the curtains at this day are cunningly wrought with divers patterns. concerning the aforesaid veil, and of what sort the curtains ought to be, it is written in exodus. the third kind of veil deriveth its origin from thence, that the _peribolus_ in the primitive church, or wall which encompasseth the choir, was only raised as far as the elevation of the choir; [footnote 318] which even to this day is observed in some churches: which was done that the people {63} seeing the clergy singing psalms, might follow their good example. but at this time as it were a veil or wall is suspended or interposed between the clergy and the laity, that they may not be able to behold each other: as if to say, in very deed, 'turn away mine eyes, lest they behold vanity.' [footnote 319] [footnote 316: exodus xxxiv, 33.] [footnote 317: 2 corinth, iii, 15.] [footnote 318: there is much difficulty in this passage. we conceive that durandus while writing it had in his mind's eye the arrangement of many of the basilican churches, in which the choir was raised over the crypt (called confessio, or martyrium), in which the ashes of the saints were laid, and was detached from the nave by two flights of steps, one on each side of the descent to this undercroft. in this case the _appodiation_ would mean the elevation of the choir, itself considered as a sufficient distinction from the nave. the usual representations of basilican churches, however, always show some rails, or cancelli, besides this _appodiation_. the learned father thiers devotes the third section of his 'dissertation sur la clôture du choeur des eglises' to the consideration of this passage. 'guillaume durand, evêque de mande, assure que dans la primitive eglise, le choeur etait séparé de la nef par une _muraille d'appui_, afin que le peuple voiant la clergé chanter les louanges de dieu en fût édifié. mais comme il parle d'un fait beaucoup éloigné de son tems, et qui n'est attache par aucun ancien auteur, je ne pense pas que l'on doive faire grande fonds sur son temoignage.' we suspect that thiers is wrong in construing _appodiatio_ by _muraille d'appui:_ the latter would well express the real basilican arrangement, with which the translator was probably acquainted. durandus, therefore, is wrong in his fact; and thiers wrong in his understanding of durandus, as well as in the theory stated in the next section, that 'depuis constantin le choeur de quelques eglises etoit distingue de la nef par des tapisseries ou des voiles.' for he grounds this chiefly on the next assertion of durandus about the use curtains, 'hoc tempore, vers la fin du 13 siecle.' if we did not know from facts that before this time roodscreens were in ordinary use, the words of durandus _velum aut murus_ would show us that he means the _wall_ to be taken metaphorically for a _veil_. and so thiers may have seen, since he concludes his section thus--' mais peut être que theodoret parle des tapisseries et durand des voiles qui convroient la clôture du choeur par le dedans, et que sous ces tapisseries et ces voiles il y avoit une veritable clôture de balustres, ou de muraillcs pleines.'] [footnote 319: psalm cxix (_beati immaculati_), 37.] 36. but on holy saturday all the curtains are taken away, because on the passion of the lord the veil of the temple was rent: and by that thing the spiritual intelligence of the law was revealed unto us, which till that time lay hid, as is said afore: and the door of the kingdom of heaven is opened, and power was given unto us, that we cannot be overcome of our carnal concupiscence, unless we ourselves do yield. but the veil which separateth the sanctuary from the choir, is drawn or lifted up at vespers on every saturday of lent: when the office of the sunday is begun, that the clergy may be able to look into the sanctuary: because the sunday commemorateth the resurrection. 37. this therefore is done on the six sundays of lent: because there was no age in which joy, and that joy eternal, was not made in some sort manifest, that joy which is concealed in heaven, as is signified by that veil. thence is it that we fast not on the sundays, and this on account of the glory of the resurrection. for the first sunday signifieth the joy which our parents enjoyed in the paradise before the fall. {64} the second sunday signifieth the joy of the few who were preserved in the ark of noah, when all else were drowned in the deluge. the third, the gladness of the children of israel, when in the time of joseph others were afflicted with famine. the fourth, their joy when they lived with all peace under solomon. [footnote 320] the fifth, their gladness when returning from the babylonian captivity. the sixth, that of the disciples from the resurrection to the ascension: when the bridegroom was with them in presence. [footnote 320: 3 kings iv, 20.] 38. in feasts likewise of nine lessons, [footnote 321] when they occur in lent, the before-mentioned veil is raised and lifted up. but this is not of the institution of the earliest times, because then no feast was celebrated in lent. but then on whatever day a feast occurred, commemoration was made of it on the saturday and sunday following, according to the canon of pope martin; and so in the xiiith book of burchardus. [footnote 322] and all this on account of the sadness of that time. afterwards the contrary use prevailed: that feasts of nine lessons occurring in lent should be solemnly observed, and a fast nevertheless kept. [footnote 321: for an explanation of the whole catholic system of feasts, double, semi-double, and simple, the reader is referred to the _tracts for the times_, vol. iii.] [footnote 322: s. burchardus of worms flourished in 1025: and is not to be confounded with john burchardus, who wrote an explanation of the mass for the use of the venetian church, which was published in 1559.] 39. again, on festivals curtains are hung up in churches, for the sake of the ornament they give; and that by visible, we may be led to invisible beauty. these curtains are sometimes tinctured with various hues, as is said afore: so that by the diversity of the colours themselves we may be taught that man, who is the temple of god, should be ordained by the variety and diversity of virtues. {65} a white curtain signifieth pureness of living: a red, charity: a green, contemplation: a black, mortification of the flesh: a livid-coloured, tribulation. besides this, over white curtains are sometimes suspended hangings of various colours: to signify that our hearts ought to be purged from vices: and that in them should be the curtains of virtues, and the hangings of good works. 40. moreover, on the feast of the nativity of the lord some churches exhibit no hangings: some poor, and some good. those which have none, signify our shame; for even if we are filled with the greatest joy at the birth of a saviour, [footnote 323] we ought not, however, to be without shame that such was our sin that the 'son of god emptied himself on our account, and took upon him the form of a servant.' [footnote 324] and on that account also we solemnise his passion not with joy, but with a severe fast; whereas when we celebrate the passion of other saints we do it with gladness, and indulge ourselves somewhat in meat and drink, as shall be said in the sixth book. but our lord's passion is a source of shame to us on account of our sins. the saints, on the other hand, died not for our sins, but suffered for christ. those churches which on the nativity suspend curtains of poor texture thereby typify that christ did then 'take upon himself the form of a servant, [footnote 325 ] and was clothed in miserable rags. those which employ richer hangings, set forth by them the gladness arising from the birth of a king: and teach what manner of persons we ought to be in our reception of so great a guest. [footnote 323: in accordance with this feeling, the first psalm at the second vespers of the nativity in the benedictine breviary is the _de profundis_.] [footnote 324: philip, ii, 7.] [footnote 325: philip, ii, 7.] {66} 41. in some churches the altar at easter-tide is decked with precious hangings, and veils of three colours are placed over it: red, pale, and black, which denote three seasons. when the first lesson and its response are finished, the black veil is removed; which signifieth the time before the law. when the second lesson and its response are finished, the pale veil is removed: which signifieth the time of the law. the third being finished, the red is removed, which setteth forth the time of grace: that is, that by the passion of christ an entrance is administered unto us to the holy of holies and to eternal glory. but concerning the coverings and cloths of the altars we have spoken in our sections on the same. 42. on high feasts, the treasures of the church are brought forth on three accounts. firstly, by way of safeguard: that it may be made manifest that he who hath them in charge hath been careful in his care of them. secondly, for the more reverence of the solemnity. thirdly, for the memory of their oblation; namely, for the commemoration of them that bestowed them on the church. but in that the church is gloriously adorned within and not without, it is thereby signified that 'all its glory is from within.' [footnote 326] for although its outward appearance be despicable, the soul which is the seat of god is illuminated from within: according to that saying, 'i am black but comely.' [footnote 327] and the lord saith to the prophet: 'i have a goodly heritage.' [footnote 328] which the prophet considering in his mind, saith, 'lord, i have loved the beauty of thine house': [footnote 329] which is spiritually adorned by faith, hope, and charity. sometimes the church, both material and spiritual, hath need to be cleansed: concerning which in the seventh book. [footnote 326: psalm xlv (_eructavit_), 6.] [footnote 327: cantic. i, 5.] [footnote 328: the bishop probably refers to psalm xvi (_conserva me_), 6. the words in reality spoken by david are understood by him as if spoken by the almighty.] [footnote 329: psalm xxvi (_judica me_), 8.] {67} in some churches two eggs of ostriches and other things which cause admiration, and which are rarely seen, are accustomed to be suspended: that by their means the people may be drawn to church, and have their minds the more affected. 43. again, some say that the ostrich, as being a forgetful bird, 'leaveth her eggs in the dust': [footnote 330] and at length, when she beholdeth a certain star, returneth unto them, and cheereth them by her presence. therefore the eggs [footnote 331] of ostriches are hung in churches to signify that man, being left of god on account of his sins, if at length he be illuminated by the divine light, remembereth his faults and returneth to him, who by looking on him with his mercy cherisheth him. as it is written in luke that after peter had denied christ, the 'lord turned and looked upon peter.' [footnote 332] therefore be the aforesaid eggs suspended in churches, this signifying, that man easily forgetteth god, unless being illuminated by a star, that is, by the influence of the holy spirit, he is reminded to return to him by good works. [footnote 330: job xxxix, 14.] [footnote 331: perhaps this custom was introduced by the crusaders. 'as the ostrich is good for food, so, it seems, are its eggs: to say nothing of their being objects of attention, as being used much in the east by way of ornament; for they are hung up in their places of public worship, along with many lamps.' harmer's 'observations,' vol. iv, p. 336, who refers to pococke's 'travels,' vol. i, p. 31, and imagines that dr. chandler, in his travels in asia minor, was mistaken when he supposed that the turkish mosque of magnesia was ornamented with lamps pendent from the ceiling intermixed with balls of polished ivory, p. 267. ostrich eggs might easily be mistaken for ivory balls. the following passage from de moleon is curious: 'at the conclusion of matins,' he says, speaking of the rites of s. maurice at angers on easter day, 'two chaplains take their place behind the altar curtains. two corbeliers (_cubiculares_) in dalmatics, amices, and _mitellae_, with gloves on their hands, present themselves before the altar. the chaplains chant. _quem quaeritis_? the corbeliers representing the maries, reply, jesum _nazarenum crucifixum._ the others answer, _resurrexit, non est hic_. the corbeliers take from the altar _two_ ostrich eggs wrapped in silk, and go forth, chanting, _alleluia resurrexit_ dominus, _resurrexit leo fortis_, christus, _filius_ dei.'--_voyag. lit._ p. 98. ] [footnote 332: s. luke xxii, 61.] {68} 44. now in the primitive church, the sacrifice was offered in vessels of wood, and common vests: for then were 'chalices of wood, and priests of gold': whereof the contrary is now. but severinus, pope, decreed that it should be offered in glass: [footnote 333] but because such vessels were easily broken, therefore, urban, pope, and the council [footnote 334] of rheims decreed that gold or silver vessels should be used: or on account of poverty, tin, which rusteth not: but not in wood nor in brass. therefore it might not be in glass on account of the danger of effusion: nor of wood since being porous and spongy, it absorbeth the blood: nor of brass nor of bronze, the rust of which is unseemly. [footnote 333: see martene, tom. iv, ii, 9; the _ducretum_, fol. 395.] [footnote 334: 'a.d. 874, vid. concil. coll. reg. tom. i. p. 288.' see also p. tunoc. iv, ep. ad otton. carel. xiii _hardouin_ vii, 365.] 45. and note that the name of chalice is derived from the old testament: whence jeremiah, 'babylon is a golden chalice that maketh drunk the nations.' [footnote 335] and david: 'in the hand of the lord is a chalice, and the wine thereof is red': [footnote 336] and in another place, 'i will receive the chalice of salvation, and will call on the name of the lord.' [footnote 337] again, in the gospel: 'are ye able to drink the chalice that i shall drink?' [footnote 338] and again, 'when he had taken the chalice he gave thanks.' [footnote 339] a golden chalice signifieth the 'treasures of wisdom that be hid in christ.' [footnote 340] a silver chalice denoteth purity from sin. a chalice of tin denoteth the similitude of sin and punishment. for tin is as it were halfway between silver and lead: and the humanity of christ, albeit it were not lead, that is, sinful, yet was it like to sinful flesh. and therefore not silver: and although impassible for his own sin, passible he was for ours: since 'he thus took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses.' [footnote 341] concerning the chalice and the paten we shall speak hereafter. [footnote 335: jeremiah li, 7.] [footnote 336: psalm lxxv (_confitebimur_), 8.] [footnote 337: psalm cxvi (_dilexi_), 13.] [footnote 338: s. matthew x, 22.] [footnote 339: s. matthew xxvi, 27. ] [footnote 340: coloss. ii, 3.] [footnote 341: s. matthew viii, 17.] {69} 46. but if anyone, through cause of his little religion, should say that the lord commanded moses to make all the vessels of the tabernacle for every use and ceremony whatever, of brass, as it is written in the eight and twentieth chapter of exodus, and that precious vessels of this sort, 'could be sold for much, and given to the poor,' [footnote 342] he is like judas, and acteth contrarywise to the woman which brought the alabaster box of ointment. this we reply to him: not that god is better pleased with gold than brazen ornaments: but that when men offer to god that which they value, by the worship of the almighty they vanquish their own avarice. moreover, these offices of divine piety be moral, and significative of future glory. whence also under the old law the priest's garments were to be made of gold, and jacinth, and purple, and scarlet twice dyed, and woven linen, and other precious things: that thereby might be made manifest with how great diversity of virtues the priest ought to shine: and it was also commanded that the altar, and the mercy-seat, and the candlestick, and the other vessels and ornaments of the altar should be made of gold and silver. the tabernacle also was to be made of divers precious materials, as is said in our section concerning the church. also the high priest under the law used divers precious ornaments, as we have both noted, and shall hereafter note. [footnote 342: s. matthew xxvi, 9.] 47. moreover, it was forbidden in the council of orleans, [footnote 343] that the divine ornaments should be used for the adorning of nuptials, lest they should be polluted by the touch of the wicked, or by the pomp of secular luxury. by this doubtless it is shown that a chasuble, or any other ornament intended for the divine mysteries, must not be made out of a common person's vest. [footnote 343: a.d. 535. decret. viii. see also the council of tribur. a. d. 1036.] {70} 48. stephen, pope, moreover, forbade that anyone should have the use of the vests of a church, or of those things which be touched by religious men alone, for other purposes: lest that vengeance come upon these transgressors which befel belshazzar the king. [footnote 344 ] [footnote 344: daniel v, i.] 49. also clement, pope, forbade that the dead should be buried or wrapped or covered, they or their bones, with the altar cloth, or covering for the chalice, or napkin wherewith the priest washeth his hands before consecrating. 50. but when the palls, that is the corporals, and the veils, that is the ornaments of the altar, or the curtains hanging over it shall have become unclean, the deacons with their ministers shall wash them within the sanctuary, and not without. but when the veils, used in the service of the altar, be washed, let there be a new basin. and let the palls, that is the corporals, be washed in another basin. and let the veils for doors, that is, the curtains which are hung up in churches at high feasts, and in lent, be washed in another. this is it that was decreed of the council of lerida: [footnote 345] that for washing the corporal, and the altar palls certain vessels be appropriated and kept within the church: in which nothing else ought to be washed. but according to the afore-mentioned clement, if the altar pall or covering, or the covering of the seat where the priest sitteth, in his holy vests, or of the candlestick, or the veil, that is the cloth or curtains hanging over the altar be consumed by old age, let them be burnt; and their ashes cast in the baptistery, or on the wall, or in the drains, where there is no treading of passers by. and note that ecclesiastical ornaments be consecrated: as shall be said under the section of consecrations and unctions. [footnote 345: 'a.d. 524, concil. coll. reg. tom xi, p. 24.'] {71} chapter iv of bells bells, what and where first used--why blessed--analogy between bells and trumpets--mystical signification--of the bell-frame--of the bell-ropes--use of bells at the canonical hours--six kinds of bells--bells when silent--of the passing bell--of the prayer bell--of the storm bell. 1. bells are brazen vessels, and were first invented in nola, a city of campania: wherefore the larger bells are called _campanae_, from campania the district, and the smaller _nolae_, from nola the town. 2. the reason for consecrating and ringing bells is this: that by their sound the faithful may be mutually cheered on towards their reward; that the devotion of faith may be increased in them; that their fruits of the field, their minds and their bodies may be defended; that the hostile legions and all the snares of the enemy may be repulsed; that the rattling hail, the whirlwinds, and the violence of tempests and lightning may be restrained; the deadly thunder and blasts of wind held off; the spirits of the storm and the powers of the air overthrown; and that such as hear them may flee for refuge to the bosom of our holy mother the church, bending every knee before the standard of the sacred rood. these several reasons are given in the office for the blessing of bells. [footnote 346] [footnote 346: see the account of the consecration of several churches in the island of guernsey, taken from the black book of the diocese of contances, in a paper by the rev. w. c. lukis, b.a., trinity college, published in the first part of the transactions of the cambridge camden society.] {72} 3. you must know that bells, by the sound of which the people assembleth together to the church to hear, and the clergy to preach, 'in the morning the mercy of god and his power by night, [footnote 347] do signify the silver trumpets, by which under the old law the people were called together unto sacrifice. (of these trumpets we shall speak in our sixth book.) for just as the watchmen in a camp rouse one another by trumpets, so do the ministers of the church excite each other by the sound of bells to watch the livelong night against the plots of the devil. wherefore our brazen bells are more sonorous than the trumpets of the old law, because then god was known in judea only, but now in the whole earth. they be also more durable: for they signify that the preaching of the new testament will be more lasting than the trumpets and sacrifices of the old law, namely, even unto the end of the world. [footnote 347: psalm xcii (_bonum est confiteri_), 2] 4. again bells do signify preachers, who ought after the likeness of a bell to exhort the faithful unto faith: the which was typified in that the lord commanded moses to make a vestment for the high priest, having seventy-two bells to sound when the high priest entered into the holy of holies. [footnote 348] also the cavity of the bell denoteth the mouth of the preacher, according to the saying of the apostle, 'i am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.' [footnote 349] [footnote 348: exodus xxviii, 35.] [footnote 349: i cor. xiii, 1.] 5. the hardness of the metal signifieth fortitude in the mind of the preacher: whence saith the lord, 'behold i have made thy face strong against their faces.' [footnote 350] the clapper or iron, which by striking on either side maketh the sound, doth denote the tongue of the teacher, the which with the adornment of learning doth cause both testaments to resound. [footnote 350: ezekiel iii, 8.] {73} 6. wherefore a prelate which hath not the skill of preaching will be like unto a bell without a clapper: according to that saying of gregory, 'a priest, if he knoweth not how to preach nor what voice of exhortation he can deliver, is a dumb preacher, and also as a dumb dog which cannot bark.' the striking the bell denoteth that a preacher ought first of all to strike at the vices in himself for correction, and then advance to blame those of others: lest indeed, contrary to the teaching of the apostle, 'when he hath preached to others, he himself should be a castaway.' [footnote 351] which also the psalm doth testify, 'but unto the ungodly, saith god: why dost thou preach my laws, and takest my covenant in thy mouth?' [footnote 352] because truly by the example of his own suffering he often gaineth access to those whom by the learning of his discourse he cannot move. the link by which the clapper is joined or bound unto the bell is moderation: by which, namely, by the authority of scripture, the tongue of the preacher who wisheth to draw men's hearts is ruled. [footnote 353] [footnote 351: i corinthians ix, 27.] [footnote 352: psalm i (_deus deorum_), 16. ] [footnote 353: the passage is very unintelligible in the original, and is probably corrupted or transposed.] 7. the wood of the frame upon which the bell hangeth, doth signify the wood of our lord's cross: which is on this account suspended on high, because the cross is preached by the ancient fathers. the pegs by which the wooden frame is joined together or fastened, are the oracles of the prophets. the iron cramps by which the bell is joined with the frame, denote charity, by which the preacher being joined indissolubly unto the cross, doth boast and say, 'god forbid that i should glory save in the cross of our lord jesus christ.' [footnote 354] the hammer affixed to the frame by which the bell is struck, signifieth the right mind of the preacher, by which he himself, holding fast to the divine commands, doth by frequent striking inculcate the same on the ears of the faithful. [footnote 354: gal. vi, 14. _cavilla_ is thus explained by belethus. expl. divin. off. xxiv. cavilla, sic enim ferrum illud pensile vocat, quod graeci rectius [greek text] nominant, cujus pulsu campana sonum reddit.] {74} 8. the rope hanging from this, by which the bell is struck, is humility, or the life of the preacher: the same rope also showeth the measure of our own life. besides these, since the rope hath its beginning from the wood upon which the bell hangeth, by which is understood our lord's cross, it doth thus rightly typify holy scripture which doth flow down from the wood of the holy cross. as also the rope is composed of three strands, so doth the scripture consist of a trinity: namely, of history, allegory, and morality. whence, the rope coming down from the wooden frame into the hand of the priest is scripture descending from the mystery of the cross into the mouth of the preacher. again, the rope reacheth unto the hands by which it is grasped, because scripture ought to proceed unto good works. also the raising and the lowering of the rope in ringing doth denote that holy scripture speaketh sometimes of high matters, sometimes of low: or that the preacher speaketh sometimes lofty things for the sake of some, and sometimes condescendeth for the sake of others: according to that saying of the apostle: 'whether we exalt ourselves it is for god, or whether we humble ourselves it is for you.' [footnote 355] again, the priest draweth the rope downwards, when he descendeth from contemplation unto active life: but is himself drawn upward when under the teaching of scripture he is raised in contemplation. also he draweth it downwards when he understandeth the scripture according to the 'letter which killeth'; he is drawn upwards {75} when he expoundeth the same according to the spirit. again, according to gregory, he is drawn downwards and upwards when he measureth himself in scripture, namely, how much he still lieth in the depths and how much he advanceth in doing good. [footnote 355: this appeals to be a reference to 2 cor. v, 13.] furthermore, when the bell doth sound from the pulling of its rope, the people are gathered in one for the exposition of holy scripture, the preacher is heard, and the people are united in the bond of faith and charity. therefore when a priest acknowledgeth unto himself that he is a debtor unto preaching, he must not withdraw himself from calling men together by his bells, just as also the sons of aaron did sound their silver trumpets. he therefore moveth the ropes who doth of his office call his brethren or the people together. the ring (or pully) in the length of the rope, through which in many places the rope is drawn, is the crown of reward, or perseverance unto the end, or else is holy scripture itself. moreover, savinianus, pope, hath commanded that the hours of the day should be struck in churches. {76} 9. and note that bells are commonly rung for the divine offices [footnote 356] twelve times during the twelve hours of the day: namely, once at prime, and in like manner once at the last hour, because all things come from one god, and god is one, all in all. at tierce they are rung three times, for the second, third, and fourth hours which are then chanted. in like manner three times at sexts, for the fifth, sixth, and seventh hours. also three times at nones for the three hours. but at vespers, which is the twelfth hour, not one only but many times are they rung, because in the time of grace the preaching of the apostles was multiplied. also in the night for matins they are rung often, because we ought often to call out, 'wake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead.' [footnote 357] [footnote 356: the reader will scarcely need reminding that the day is canonically divided into two parts of twelve hours each, beginning' at six o'clock respectively. prime therefore is at our six a.m., tierce at nine, sexts at twelve, nones at three p.m., vespers at six p.m., and compline at bedtime. haec sunt septenis propter quae psallimus horis. _matutina_ ligat christum, qui crimina purgat: _prima_ replet sputis; causam dat _tertia_ mortis: _sexta_ cruci nectit: latus ejus _nona_ bipertit: _vespera_ deponit: tumulo _completa_ reponit. which may thus be translated; at _matins_ bound: at _prime_ revil'd: condemn'd to death at _tierce_: nail'd to the cross at _sexts_: at _nones_ his blessed side they pierce: they take him down at _vesper_-tide; in grave at _compline_ lay who thenceforth bids his church to keep her sevenfold hours alway. the twelve hours of the night are divided into three nocturns, which may be supposed to be said at twelve, two, and four, and are immediately followed by lauds at five. nocturns and lauds (together called matins), with the six hours above-mentioned, make the seven canonical hours. on this subject we can but refer our readers to the extremely beautiful fifth book of durandus, and particularly his first chapter, in which all the pregnant symbolism of the canonical hours is set forth. hugo de sancto victore has briefly touched upon the same in the third chapter of the _in speculum ecclesiae_, but nearly the whole of his account is contained in durandus. see also s. isidore 'de eccles. offic.' lib, i, cap. xix--xxiii; and belethus whose account is valuable for its conciseness. 'explic. divin. offic.' caps, xxi--xxix. the twelve ringings mentioned in the text as being in 'the twelve hours of the _day_' are thus to be made out. at prime, one; at tierce, three; at sexts, three; at nones, three; at vespers, one (the ringing 'many times' being only thus accounted); and at the last hour, one; in whole twelve, hugo de s. victor has a passage almost identical with this. 'the bells be also rung twelve times. at prime, once, and again at the last hour once; because all things be from one god, and the same will be all in all. but at tierce, three times for the second, third, and fourth hours; and so at sexts, for three hours, namely, the seventh, eighth, and ninth; but at vespers many times, because in the time of grace the preaching of the apostles was multiplied. also at matins oftentimes, because we should often exclaim, 'arise, thou that sleepest.' it will be observed that this passage is corrupt, nones being omitted, and its three hours given to sexts. matins also, as in the text, are belonging to the twelve hours of the _night_.] [end footnote] [footnote 357: eph, v, 14.] {77} 10. commonly also they be rung three times at nocturns. first with a _squilla_ [footnote 358] or hand-bell, which by its sharp sound signifieth paul preaching acutely. the second ringing signifieth barnabus joined to his company. the third intimateth that, when the 'jews put from them the word of god, the apostles turned themselves to the gentiles,' whom also they instructed in the faith of the trinity by the doctrine of the four evangelists. whence also some do use, _four_ peals. [footnote 358: _squilla_ is properly a _sea onion_. we conceive that the sort of a bell here meant is a kind of hand-bell, formed out of a hollow ball of metal, furnished with a slit for the sound, and with a loose pellet inside. this answers to the squilla in shape and utters a very shrill sound. we find below that it was used chiefly in the refectory. so in a note to martener vol iv, p. 32, we read 'ad gratiarum actionem sacrista sciliam (the other form of squillam) pulsabat. cons. s. benigni, cap. 9. fratribus exeuntibus de prandio sive de coena sciliam pulsare non negligat hebdomadarius sacrista.'] 11. and note that there be six kinds of bells which be used in the church; namely, the _squilla_, the _cymbalum_, the _nola_, the _nolula_ (or double _campana_), the _signum_ [and the _campana_]. the squilla is rung in the _triclinium_, that is, in the refectory; the cymbalum in the cloister; the nola in the choir; the nolula or double campana in the clock, the campana in the campanile, the signum in the tower. either of these, however, may be called generally a bell. and these be known by diverse names, because the preachers signified thereby be necessary for diverse ends. 12. during the whole septuagesima, in the which quadragesima [or lent] is contained, on common days the bells be not chanted, nor chimed, but tolled, that is rung singly, at the hours of the day, or at matins. [footnote 359] in well-ordered churches, they be struck twice at prime; first to call unto prayer, secondly to begin: three times at tierce, according to the number of hours then struck, {78} as was said above; once to call to prayer, twice to assemble them together, thrice to begin. in like manner it is done at sexts and nones. but for matins the same bells are rung and in the same order. for a mass or for vespers only two bells be rung. but in smaller churches they simply ring the bells as aforesaid, and this on the common days. but on sundays and holy days, they chime them, as at other times. for because preachers who be figured by bells, do the more abound in a season of grace, and 'are instant in season,' therefore on festivals which pertain to grace, the bells do sound more pressingly and are rung for a longer time, to arouse those 'that sleep and be drunken,' lest they sleep beyond measure. but what is signified by the ringing of bells when the te deum is chanted we shall speak hereafter. [footnote 360] [footnote 359: it is to be remarked that throughout this chapter there is no allusion to ringing the bells by raising them and causing them to revolve on axes as practised in england. this and the beautiful science of bell-ringing consequent on it are peculiar to ourselves. the method of sounding the bells here understood is by a hammer acting on the rim, or by pulling the clapper, as is used with us for chimes, and where the bell frame is weak. this accounts for the much larger bells which are found abroad, and which were never meant to be poised and swung. owing to the above difference between the continental and english methods of bell-ringing, it is not easy to express the difference between _simpulsare, compulsare_, and _depulsare_. _depulsare_ is to ring by tying a rope to the _clapper_ of a bell, and pulling the rope to and fro: we have accordingly translated it, to chant a _bell_. _simpulsare_ is to ring by tying a rope to the hammer, and pulling it back; this we have translated _to toll_. tolling is of course performed by swinging the bell round: but as there is no english word which expresses _simpulsare_, we thought it better to use an old term in a new sense, than to coin a new one. _compulsare_ is to do to several bells what _depulsare_ is to do to one: and we have translated it to _chime_. _pulsare_ we have translated _to ring_. it may be worthy of remark, how completely the ringing of the bells is here considered a part of the priest's office.] [end footnote] [footnote 360: in book v, chapter iii, '_of nocturns_,' durandus says, 'when the nocturns be finished, the bells be rung and the _te deum laudamus_ is chanted with uplift voice, to denote that the church doth openly and wonderfully laud god in the time of grace, and to show that if by good works we answer rightly to holy doctrine, we shall attain to singing heavenly praises in concert with the angels. the chant also is then made with a loud voice, to signify the joy of the woman at finding the lost 'piece of silver.' and the versicle _day by day we magnify thee_, and the following, be chanted still more loudly to set forth the gratulations of the neighbours over the finding of the piece of silver: and the ringing of the bells representeth the calling together of the neighbours. in some churches also the candles be lighted, because the woman also 'lighted a candle and sought diligently till she found it.' this also signifieth that the church catholic is drawn by christ out of hell. and the hymn itself representeth the future joy and gladness, which the church resting from her labours shall attain in the day of judgment.' hugo de s. victore, and belethus agree as to this ringing of the bells at matins: a practice of which perhaps we may find the shadow in our own use in many places of ringing the bells at eight o'clock on sunday mornings, to which day our services are now chiefly confined.] {79} 13. moreover, the bells ought to be rung when anyone is dying, that the people hearing this may pray for him. [footnote 361] for a woman indeed they ring twice, because she first caused the bitterness of death: for she first alienated mankind from god; wherefore the second day had no benediction. [footnote 362] but for a man they ring three times, because the trinity was first shown in man. for adam was first formed from the earth, then the woman from adam, afterwards was man created from both, and so there is therein a trinity. but if the dying man be an ecclesiastic, they toll so many times as he hath received orders. and at the last time they ought to chime, that so the {80} people may know for whom they have to pray. the bells ought also to be chimed when the corpse is brought to the church, and when carried out from the church to the grave. [footnote 361: for an account of the 'passing-bell,' and the authority for its right use among ourselves, the reader is referred to bp. montague's 'articles of inquiry.' camb. 1841, pp. 76, 116. it is to be observed that the bells are here said to be rung, not _tolled_, as is generally the case now. many will remember a beautiful passage upon this custom in one of the rev. f. e. paget's 'tales of the village.' the practice of their distinguishing the sex of the dying person is still in most places retained.] [footnote 362: '_wherefore the second day had no benediction_.' it will be observed that of this day only it is not said expressly that 'god saw that it was good.' we give a chapter of hugo s. victore upon this question. 'but it is admirable wherefore god did not see the works of the second day that they were good: since in each other day he is said to have seen them, and that they were good. for either it was not his work, and so not good; or if it were his work, it was good. but if it was good, it was also his work: and then he saw it was good, who could not be ignorant what it was, whether good or bad. wherefore then is it not said here as elsewhere "god saw that it was good?" for if this be said elsewhere only because the work was made, why ought it not also to be said here since it was made? perhaps because _dual_ is the sign of division; since it first recedeth from _unity_: and so here we perceive some sacrament. thus the works of the second day be not praised, not because they were not good, but because they were signs of evil. for god made his first works "and behold they were all very good:" in the which neither was corruption present, nor perfection absent. but afterwards cometh the devil and man, and they also made their works: and these second works came after the first; the evil after the good: and god was unwilling to behold these works because they were evil; but beholding them by his wisdom, he disapproved them by his judgment.' 'de sacramentis,' lib. i, pars i, cap. xx. s. isodore (sentent. i, xx de mundo) does not allude to this, nor s. augustin upon genesis.] 14. also bells be rung at processions, that the evil spirits may hear them and flee, as shall be said hereafter. [footnote 363] for they do fear when the trumpets of the church militant, that is the bells, be heard, like as a tyrant doth fear when he heareth on his own land the trumpets of any potent king his foe. [footnote 363: 'the bells be rung in processions. for as an earthly monarch hath in his army royal insignia, namely trumpets and banners; so christ the eternal king hath in his church militant bells for trumpets, and crosses for banners. thus the ringing of the bells doth signify the prophets, who foretold the advent of christ.' durandus, book iv, chapter 6, 'of the priest's approach to the altars,' sec. 19. the same idea is applied by belethus to the matin bells in his 24th chapter.] 15. and this is the reason also why the church, when she seeth a tempest to arise, doth ring the bells; namely, that the devils hearing the trumpets of the eternal king, which be the bells, may flee away through fear and cease from raising the storm; and that the faithful also may be admonished at the ringing of the bells and be provoked to be urgent in prayer for the instant danger. [footnote 364] [footnote 364: see note i to this chapter.] but for three days before easter the bells be silent, as shall be said hereafter. [footnote 365] also the bells be silent in time of an interdict, because often for the fault of those put under them the tongue of the preachers is hindered; according to that of the prophet, 'i will make thy tongue cleave to the roof of thy mouth, for they are a rebellious house'; [footnote 366] that is, for the people are disobedient. [footnote 365: see appendix.] [footnote 366: ezekiel iii, 26.] the church also hath organs, of which we shall speak hereafter. [footnote 367] [footnote 367: durandus, in his fourth book, chapter xxxiv, '_of the sanctus_,' says, 'moreover in this conceit of angels and men, the organs do from time to time add their harmony: the which was introduced by david and solomon, who did cause hymns to be sung at the sacrifice of the lord, with the concert of organs and other instruments of music, and the people also to join in chorus.'] {81} chapter v of cemeteries and other places, sacred and religious holiness of places; its origin--difference between sacred, holy, and religious--different names for cemetery--first use of cemeteries--who are not to be buried in the church--ancient method of burial--who are to be buried in a cemetery. 1. now we will speak of cemeteries and other sacred and religious places. of consecrated places, some be appropriated to human necessity, others to prayers. those of the first sort be a _xenodochium_ or _xenostorium_, which is the same: a _vasochonium_, a _gerontocomium_, an _orphanotrophium_, a _brephotrophiuin_. for holy fathers and religious princes have founded places of this kind, where the poor, the pilgrims, old men, orphans, infants, men past work, the halt, the weak, and the wounded should be received and attended. and note that _geronta_ in greek is the same as _senex_ in latin. but of places appropriated to prayer, there be that are _sacred_, there be that are _holy_, and there be that are _religious_. {82} 2. _sacred_ be they which by the hands of the bishop have duly been sanctified and set apart to the lord, and which be called by various names, as hath been said in the section on churches. _holy_ be they which have immunity or privilege: and be set apart for the servitors or ministers of the church, concerning which, under threat of condign punishment, either by the canon law or by special privilege, it is ordained that no man shall presume to violate them. such be the courts of churches, and in some places the cloisters, within which be the houses of the canons. to which when criminals of whatever kind betake themselves they have safety. and so according to the statutes of the civil law be the gates and theatres of cities. 3. _religious_ places be they where the entire body of a man, or at least the head is buried: because no man can have two sepulchres. but the body or any member without the head doth not make the place wherein it is buried religious. but according to the civil law the corpse of a jew, or paynim, or unbaptised infant maketh the place of its sepulchre religious: yet by the christian religion and the canonical doctrine the body of a christian alone maketh it so. and note that whatever is _sacred_ is _religious_; but the contrary holdeth not. but the afore-named religious place hath divers appellations: such be _cemetery, polyandrum_, or _andropolis_ (which is the same thing), _sepulchrum, mausoleum_ (which is also the same), _dormitorium, tumulus, monumentum, ergastulum, pyramid, sarcophagus, bustum, urna, spelunca_. 4. _cemetery_ hath its name from _cimen_ which is _sweet_, and _sterion_, which is a _station_: for there the bones of the departed rest sweetly, and expect the advent of their saviour. or because there be therein _cimices_, that is reptiles of intolerable odour. 5. _poliantrum_, from _pollutum antrum_, on account of the carcases of men therein buried. or _poliantrum_ signifieth a multitude of men, from _polus_, which is a _plurality_, and _andros_, which is a man; and therefore a cemetery is so called on account of the number of men therein buried.' [footnote 368] [footnote 368: it has been thought right to give a few of the bishop's derivations, lest his translators should be accused of concealing a circumstance which may weaken, with some, his testimony on other points (though, as we have before shown, most unjustly): it has not, however, been thought necessary to follow him through all his names of a cemetery: since to do so would be a mere waste of the reader's time.] {83} [sections 6 to 10 elided.] 11. cemeteries are said to have their beginning from abraham, who bought a field from hebron: in which was a double cave, [footnote 369] where he and sarah were buried: there also isaac and jacob were buried: there also adam and eve. [footnote 370] therefore there was a double cave there: since they who buried therein were placed side by side, every man and his wife; or the men in the one, and their wives in the other: or because everyone there interred had a double cave, after the fashion of a chair. whence saith hierome, three patriarchs are buried in the city hebron, with their three wives. but they were buried as it were in a sitting posture: the upper part of the cave held the trunk from the loins: the lower the thighs and legs. [footnote 369: genesis xxiii, 9: 'we take this word machpelah for a proper name, as many others do: but the talmudists generally think it to have been a double cave, as the lxx also, with the vulgar latin, understand it. yet they cannot agree in what sense it was so: whether they went through one cave into another, or there was one above the other.'--bishop patrick, s.l.] [footnote 370: one might almost have thought that this is a false reading for _leah and rebecca_. for the common tradition was that adam and eve were buried in mount calvary: so that where the first adam fell before death, the second adam triumphed over death. and the bishop speaks below of _three_ patriarchs, and their _three_ wives buried in machpelah: which is at variance with the text as it stands: but would agree with the proposed emendation. yet s. isidore says, 'de morte abrahae,' fol. 295: 'sepultusque est in spelunca duplici; in cujus interiore parte adam esse positum traditio hebraeorum testatur.' s. victor upon spelunca duplex: 'domus quaedam fuit subterranea, in qua erat solarium, et multi fuerant sepulti, in ea et diversis foveis et subter et supra;' and in another place, 'spelunca in qua est sepulta spiritualem designat vitam, quae est occulta: quae recte duplex vocatur; propter bonam actionem et contemplationem.'] {84} 12. but all men ought not to be buried promiscuously in the church: for it seemeth that that place of sepulchre profiteth not. lucifer was thrown down from heaven, and adam cast out of paradise; and what places be better than these? also joab was slain in the tabernacle, and job triumphed in the dunghill. nay rather, it is to his hurt if a man unworthy or a sinner be buried in a church. we read in the 'dialogues' of blessed gregory, book the fourth, chapter the fifty-sixth, that when a certain man of notorious wickedness [footnote 371] had been buried in the church of s. faustinus at brescia, in the same night blessed faustinus appeared to the warden of the church, saying, speak unto the bishop that he cast out the body; otherwise he shall die in thirty days. now the warden feared to tell the thing to the bishop: and the bishop on the thirtieth day suddenly departed out of this life. it is also written in the same book, chapter the fifty-seventh, that another wicked man was buried in a church, and that afterwards his body was found outside the church, the cerecloths remaining in their own place. and austin says, they who are guilty of notorious sins, if they be buried in the church by their own desire, shall be judged for their presumption; for the sacredness of the place doth not free those whom the accusation of temerity condemns. [footnote 371: a similar story has been parodied in the 'ingoldsby legends': a work which for irreverence and profanity has hardly an equal. disgraceful as it would be to any author, it is trebly so, if (as it is said) that author is a clergyman.] no body, therefore, ought to be buried in a church, or near an altar, where the body and blood of our lord are made, except the bodies of holy fathers, who be called patrons, that is defenders, who defend the whole country with their merits, and bishops, and abbots, and worthy presbyters, and laymen of eminent sanctity. but all ought to be buried about the church, or in the court of the cloisters, or in the porch: or in the exedroe and apses which are joined to the church, or in the cemetery. {85} some also say that a space of thirty feet round the church ought to be set apart for that purpose. but others say that the space enclosed by the circuit which the bishop makes around the church must suffice for this. s. augustine saith in his book 'on the care of the dead,' towards the end, that to be buried near the tombs of martyrs advantageth the dead in this, that by commending him to the guardianship of the martyrs, the earnestness of our supplication for him may be increased. 13. of old time men were buried in their own houses: but on account of the stench thereby engendered, it was decreed that they should be buried without the city, and certain places should be set apart by sanctification for that purpose. but noblemen were buried in mountains, both in the middle of them and at the foot: and also under mounds raised of their own expense. [footnote 372] but if anyone be slain in besieging a town, where there is no cemetery, let him be buried where he can. but if a merchantman or pilgrim die by sea, and any inhabited land be near, let him be buried in it: but if no port be near, let him be buried in some island. if, however, land cannot be seen, let a little house of timbers (if they can be had) be made for him, and let him be cast into the sea. [footnote 372: _sub propriis podiis_. for some account of the curious word _podium_, whence _pew_ or _pue_ is derived, see the cambridge camden society's 'history of pews' (or the 'supplement,' pp. 6, 7).] 14. in a christian cemetery none may be buried but a baptised christian: nor yet every such an one neither: one, namely, slain in the act of sin, if it be mortal sin, as if he were slain in adultery, or theft, or some forbidden amusement. and also where a man is found dead, there let him be buried, on account of the doubtful cause of his death. {86} but if anyone dieth suddenly in games accustomably used, as the game of ball, he may be buried in the cemetery, because it was not his desire to injure anyone: but because he was occupied in worldly matters, some say that he ought to be buried without psalms and the other obsequies of the dead. but if anyone attacking another in a strife or tumult dieth impenitent, and hath not sought the priest, he ought not, as some say, to be buried in the cemetery: nor yet he who hath committed suicide. but if anyone dieth, not from any manifest cause, but from the visitation of god alone, he can be buried in a cemetery. for the just man, in what hour soever he dieth, is saved. the rather if he were following some lawful occupation. to defenders of justice and those who are engaged in a pious fight, the cemetery and the office of burial are freely conceded: yet they who come to a violent death are not borne into the church, lest the pavement be polluted with blood. but if anyone returning from any place of fornication be slain in the way, or be slain anywhere, where by unforeseen case, he hath tarried, he is not to be buried in the common cemetery; and this if it can be proved, by evidence sufficient for a court of law, that he had not confessed after the act of fornication nor was contrite: otherwise he ought to be buried. 15. again, a woman who dieth in child-birth ought not to be carried into the church, as some say, but her obsequies must be said without the church, to which i agree not: otherwise it would be as if she died in fault. whence she may allowably be borne into the church. 16. but stillborn and unbaptised children are to be buried without the cemetery. some say, however, that they should be buried with the mother as being a part of her body. 17. a man and wife are to be buried in the same sepulchre, after the example of abraham and sarah (unless a wish be specially expressed to the contrary). {87} whence also tobias commanded his son, that when his mother had accomplished her days, he should bury her in the same grave with himself. [footnote 373] also everyone is to be buried in the sepulchre of his fathers, unless from a principle of devotion he hath chosen another sepulchre. but it was decreed in the moguntine council, that they who have paid the extreme penalty for their crimes, if they have confessed, or have desired to confess and have communicated, may be buried in the cemetery, and the mass and oblations may be offered for them. how the human body is to be buried, shall be said under the section of the office for the dead. [footnote 373: tobit xiv, 10] {88} chapter vi of the dedication of a church rise of the dedication of churches--by whom performed--particulars of consecration--the twelve crosses--banners--dedication--re-consecration considered--reconciliation--in what cases--of scandals --reconciliation of cemeteries. 1. twice in the former part of this treatise we have described the material church and the altar; it followeth that we must add something about their dedication: stating, i. whence the consecration of churches hath its origin. ii. at whose hands a church is consecrated. iii. for what reason. iv. in what form; and what is signified, as well by the dedication itself, as by each of the ceremonies observed therein. of the offices for the festival of the dedication of a church we shall speak in the seventh book. [footnote 374] [footnote 374: appendix h.] 2. we have first to state whence the dedication of churches hath had its rise. upon which, note that under the teaching of the lord, moses made the tabernacle, and consecrated it together with its table of show-bread, and altar, and brazen vessels, and utensils for performing the divine worship. {89} and these he not only consecrated with prayers to god, but also anointed, at the command of the lord, with sacred oil. for [footnote 375] we read that the lord taught moses to prepare a chrism, with which to anoint the tabernacle and the ark of the testimony at the time of their dedication. solomon also the son of david, at the command of the lord, completed the temple and its altar, and consecrated what was still necessary for the performance of the divine worship; as it is written in the third book of kings. [footnote 376] nebuchadnezzar the king also summoned all his satraps, chief men, and governors to the dedication of the golden image which he had made. [footnote 377] the jews therefore, as we read in burchardus, [footnote 378] used to have the places in which they sacrificed to the lord consecrated by divine petitions, nor used they to offer gifts to god in any places but such as were dedicated unto him. if then they who were in bondage to the shadow of the law used to do this, how much the more ought we, to whom the truth hath been made manifest--'grace and truth came by jesus christ' [footnote 379]--to build temples to the lord, and adorn them as best we may, and devoutly and solemnly consecrate (according to the institution of pope felix iii) [footnote 380] by divine prayers and holy unctions both them and their altars and vessels, and vestments also, and other utensils for fulfilling the divine service? [footnote 375: exodus xxx, 23-34.] [footnote 376: i kings iii, 6.] [footnote 377: daniel iii, 2.] [footnote 378: book iii, ch. i. ] [footnote 379: s. john i, 17.] [footnote 380: 'the solemnities of the consecration of churches and of priests ought to be celebrated year by year, after the example of our lord himself, who at the feast of the dedication of the temple did set us a pattern of this in that he celebrated this festival with the rest of the people; as it is written in s. john, "and it was at jerusalem the feast of the dedication, and it was winter, and jesus walked in the temple in solomon's porch." felix papa in 'epist. ad episc. per divers, provincias,' cap. i.] {90} again, when once in syria, in the city of baruth, the jews had trampled underfoot an image of the crucified, and had pierced its side, there soon came forth therefrom blood and water. but the jews marvelled at this spectacle, and their sick when anointed with this blood were freed from all their infirmities: by reason of which all, having received the faith of christ, were baptised, and proceeded to consecrate their synagogues into churches. and hence hath grown the custom that churches should be consecrated, whereas before this altars alone used to be consecrated. on account of this miracle also the church ordained that a memorial of the lord's passion should be made on the fifth day before the calends of december: and for the same reason the church was consecrated to the honour of the saviour, in which a vessel containing some of the blood is preserved, and a solemn festival is celebrated on that day. [footnote 381] [footnote 381: the editors have not been able to find any other account of this legend.] 3. secondly, it is to be noted that a bishop alone can dedicate churches and altars: since he beareth the image and figure of the chief bishop, christ, dedicating spiritually, without whom we can do nothing stable in the church: whence he hath himself said, 'without me ye can do nothing'; [footnote 382] and the psalm saith, 'unless the lord build the house their labour is but lost that build it: [footnote 383] hence the council of carthage prohibiteth a priest from doing this, nor can this office be deputed to anyone of an inferior order. [footnote 382: s. john xvii, 5.] [footnote 383: psalm cxxvii (_nisi dominus_), i.] 4. further, as the sacred canons instruct us, a church must not be dedicated, unless it be first endowed, and that from goods lawfully acquired. for we read how when a certain bishop was consecrating a church built out of the fruits of usury and pillage, he saw behind the altar the devil in a pontifical vestment, standing in the bishop's throne: who said unto the bishop, cease from {91} consecrating the church: for it pertaineth to my jurisdiction, since it is built from the fruits of usuries and robberies. then the bishop and the clergy having fled thence in fear, immediately the devil destroyed that church, with a great noise. 5. again, a church which hath been erected from the profit of avarice must not be consecrated; nor one for which a sufficient endowment hath not been assigned; nor one in which a paynim or an infidel hath been buried, until he shall have been cast forth thence, and the church reconciled, the walls and timbers having been first scraped. the case is the same also with respect to an excommunicate person. but if a woman with child be buried there, though she be not removed, the church may be consecrated, even if the child hath not been baptised. although certain learned authors have written otherwise the church may also be consecrated on ordinary days as well as on sundays: and more bishops than one and more altars than one may be consecrated at the same time by the same person in one church. 6. thirdly, we have to say for what reason a church is dedicated: and indeed there be five reasons. first, that the devil and his power may be entirely expelled from it. gregory relateth in a dialogue, in his third book, that when a certain church of the arians having been restored to the orthodox was being consecrated, and relics of s. sebastian and the blessed agatha had been conveyed thither, the people there assembled of a sudden perceived a swine to be running to and fro among their feet; the which regaining the doors of the church could be seen of none, and moved all to marvel. which sign the lord showed for this cause, that it might be manifest to all that the unclean inhabitant had gone forth from that place. {92} but in the following night a great noise was made on the roof of the same church, as if someone were running confusedly about upon it. the second night the uproar was much greater. on the third night also so vast a noise was heard as if the whole church had been overthrown from its foundations: but it immediately ceased and no further inquietude of the old enemy hath appeared in it. secondly, that those who fly for refuge to it may be saved, as we read in the canons of gregory. and with this view joab fled into the tabernacle and laid hold of the horns of the altar. thirdly, that prayers may be heard there. whence in the prayer of the mass of dedication it is said, 'grant that all who shall meet together here to pray may obtain, whatsoever be their trials, the benefits of the consolation.' thus also solomon prayed at the dedication of the temple, as we read in the eighth chapter of the third book of kings. [footnote 384] fourthly, that praises may there be offered to god, as has been already mentioned under the head of the church. fifthly, that there the sacraments of the church may be administered. from which the church itself is called a tabernacle, as it were the hostelrie of god, in which the divine sacraments be contained and adminstered. [footnote 385] [footnote 384: i kings viii, 30.] [footnote 385: see chapter i, 4.] 7. fourthly, we have to speak of the manner in which a church is consecrated. all being excluded from the church, a single deacon remaining shut up within, the bishop with his clergy before the doors of the church proceedeth to bless water mixed with salt. in the meanwhile within the building twelve lamps be burning before twelve crosses which be depicted on the walls of the church. next, the bishop, the clergy and people following him and performing the circuit of the church, sprinkleth from a rod of hyssop the external walls with {93} holy water; and as he arriveth each time at the door of the church he striketh the threshold with his pastoral staff, saying, 'lift up your heads, o ye gates,' etc. the deacon from within answereth, 'who is the king of glory?' to whom the pontiff, 'the lord of hosts,' etc. but the third time, the door being thrown open, the bishop entereth the church with a few of his attendants, the clergy and people remaining without, and saith, 'peace be to this house'; and then the litanies. next on the pavement of the church, let a cross be made of ashes and sand; upon which the whole alphabet is described in greek and latin characters. [footnote 386] and then he sanctifieth more water with salt and ashes and wine, and consecrateth the altar. lastly, he anointeth with chrism the twelve crosses depicted on the wall. [footnote 386: see the appendix on the 'dedication of a church'] 8. in good truth whatsoever things be here done visibly, god by his invisible power worketh the same in the soul which is the temple of the true god: in which faith layeth the foundation, hope buildeth up, and charity perfecteth. for the catholic church herself, made one out of many living stones, is the temple of god, because many temples make one temple, of which the true god is one, and the faith one. the house, therefore, must be dedicated; the soul sanctified. 9. and it is to be observed that consecration effecteth two things; for it appropriateth the material church itself to god, and doth insinuate our own betrothal, as well namely of the church as of the faithful soul. for a house not consecrated is as a damsel designed for some man, but not furnished with dowry or united in the commerce of wedlock. but in consecration it is endowed, and passeth into the proper spouse of jesus christ, which further to violate is sacrilege. for it ceaseth to be the resort of demons, as is evident in the consecration of that temple, which used formerly to be called the pantheon, or place of all demons. [footnote 387] [footnote 387: 'pope boniface the fourth did consecrate to the most blessed virgin and all saints the famous monument of agrippa, the _pantheon_, having purified it from the base herd of vain gods.' _ciampini_ iv, vi, 55. this is now called santa maria rotonda. doard.] {94} 10. first, however, we have to speak of the benediction of water, concerning which the lord saith, 'unless a man be born again of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.' [footnote 388] for water which is designed for washing the body, hath merited to receive from god so great a virtue, that as it washeth the body from impurities, so also it should cleanse the soul from sins. it is manifest indeed that this water, by the aspersion of which a church is consecrated, signifieth baptism, because in some sort the church itself is baptised; and the church itself assuredly denoteth that church which is contained in it, namely, the multitude of the faithful. whence also it is called a church because it contains the church; the thing containing, namely, for the thing contained. [footnote 388: s. john iii, 5.] 11. but we must inquire wherefore salt is to be mixed with this water, since our saviour, speaking of baptism, made no mention of salt. for he saith not 'unless a man be born again of salt water or water mixed with salt,' or anything of this sort: but he said 'unless a man be born again of water and of the holy spirit,' etc. and the very same inquiry may be made concerning oil and chrism. but we must note that salt in the divine language is often put for wisdom; according to that saying, 'let your speech be savoured with salt' and the lord saith to his disciples, 'have salt in yourselves and have peace one with another.' [footnote 389] and again, 'ye are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have lost its savour wherewithal shall it be salted?' [footnote 390] hence also it is that {95} according to the law no victim was offered without salt, but salt was a part of every sacrifice. from all which passages it is clearly shown that salt is put for wisdom. and wisdom indeed is the seasoning of all virtues, as salt is of all meats. hence therefore it is that no one is baptised before he hath tasted salt; and in order that even infants may have by the symbolical meaning of the sacrament that which they cannot have in fact, the water is not blessed without a mixture of salt. of the second benediction of water we shall speak in the following treatise. [footnote 389: s. mark ix, 50.] [footnote 390: s. mark v, 13.] 12. again, the trine aspersion within and without with hyssop and holy water signifieth the threefold immersion in baptism. and it is done for three reasons. first, to drive away evil spirits. for holy water availeth from its own proper virtue to drive away demons. whence in the office for exorcising the water we say--'that this water may become exorcised in order to put to flight all the power of the enemy, and may avail to eradicate the enemy himself,' etc. secondly, for the cleansing and expiation of the church itself. for all earthly things be corrupted and defiled by reason of sin. hence it is also that in the law almost everything was cleansed by water. thirdly, to remove all malediction, and to bring in a blessing instead. for the earth from the beginning received the curse with all its fruits, because that the great deceit was made out of its fruit. but water hath not been under any curse. hence it is that our lord ate fish, but we do not read expressly that he ate flesh, unless of the paschal lamb; and this on account of the precept of the law, as an example, namely, sometimes to abstain from lawful things, sometimes to eat the same. again, the aspersion in going the circuit signifieth that the lord having a care of his own, sendeth his angel round about them that fear him. {96} 13. but the three responses which be chanted in the meantime testify the joy of the three ages of men receiving the faith, namely, noah, daniel, and job. and since at this invocation the grace of faith, hope, and charity, is poured out as the sprinkling is directed to the foot and middle part, as well as to the upper part of the walls. we will now also speak of the interior aspersion. (of the virtue of the hyssop, we will speak under the next head.) 14. but the trine circuit, which the bishop maketh while sprinkling, denoteth the thrice-repeated circuit which christ made for the sanctification of the church. the first was that by which he came down from heaven to the world: the second in which he descended into hell from the world: the third in which returning from hell and rising again he ascended into heaven. the trine circuit also showeth that that church is dedicated to the honour of the trinity. it showeth also the three states of such as shall be saved in the church, which be the virgins, the continent, the married: which also the arrangement of the material church itself showeth, as hath been said under the head of the church. 15. moreover, the trine striking on the lintel of the door signifieth the threefold right which christ hath in his church why it ought to be opened unto him. for it hath from him creation, redemption, and promise of glorification. for the bishop representeth christ, and the rod his power. again, by the triple striking of the door with the pastoral staff, the preaching of the gospel is understood. for what else is the pastoral rod than the divine word? according to that of esaias, 'he shall smite the earth with the rod,' _i.e._ the word, 'of his mouth,' etc. [footnote 391] wherefore to strike the door with the rod is to strike the ears of the hearers by the word of preaching. {97} for the ears are the gates by which we bring in the words of holy preachings to the hearts of the hearers. whence in the psalm, 'who liftest me up from the gates of death that i may show all thy praises within the ports of the daughter of sion.' [footnote 392] for what are the gates of the daughter of sion but the ears and hearing of the faithful? thirdly, the trine striking with the staff, and the opening of the gates, signifieth that by the preaching of the pastors the unbelieving shall come to the agreement of the faith. for by it the gates of justice be opened, and they that enter therein do confess the faith. whence the psalm, 'open unto me the gates of righteousness: i will go into them and i will praise the lord: this is the gate of the lord, the righteous shall enter into it.' [footnote 393] wherefore the bishop striketh the lintel, namely, of reason, saying, 'lift up your heads, ye princes,' that is, ye evil spirits: or rather, 'lift up, ye men,' that is, remove the gates, that is, your ignorances, namely, from your hearts. [footnote 394] [footnote 391: isaiah xi, 4.] [footnote 392: ps. ix (_confitebor tibi_), 13, 14.] [footnote 393: ps. cxviii (_confitemini domino_), 19, 20.] [footnote 394: ps. xxiv (_domini est terra_), 'attollite portas principes vestras.'] 16. again, the question of the deacon shut up within answering in the character of the people, 'who is the king of glory?' is the ignorance of the people which knoweth not who he is who ought to enter. 17. the opening of the doors is the ejection of sin. rightly, therefore, doth the bishop strike three times, because that number is most known and most sacred; and in any consecration the bishop ought to smite the doors three times, because without the invocation of the trinity, there can be no sacrament in the church. 18. the threefold proclamation, 'lift up your heads,' etc., signifieth the threefold power of christ, that, namely, which he hath in heaven, and in the earth, and in hell. whence it is said in the hymn for the ascension, 'that the threefold frame of things, whether heavenly, earthly, or infernal, may bow the head, having been subdued. [footnote 395] [footnote 395: this hymn, by s. gregory, is used in the office of matins in the roman breviary.] {98} 19. next the bishop entereth by the open door to denote that if he duly exercise his office, nothing can resist him; according to that saying, 'lord, who shall resist thy power?' and he entereth, accompanied by two or three, that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word of the consecration may stand sure. or else because the lord in his transfiguration, in the presence of a few, prayed for the church. and the bishop as he entereth saith, 'peace be to this house and to all them that dwell therein'; because christ entering the world made peace between god and man; for he came that he might reconcile us to god the father. 20. after this while the litany is being said the bishop prostrateth himself and prayeth for the sanctification of the house. for christ also humbling himself before his passion prayed for his disciples and 'them that should believe through his word,' saying, 'father, sanctify them in thy name.' [footnote 396] but after he hath risen up he prayeth without benediction, since he saith not 'the lord be with you'; because the church is not yet as it were baptised, and because catechumens only are not worthy that this mark of approval should be given to them, since they are not yet sanctified: but nevertheless prayer is to be made for them. [footnote 396: s. john xvii.] 21. the clergy praying and chanting the litany representeth the apostles who intercede with god for the sanctification of the church and of souls. {99} the alphabet is written on the pavement of the church in this manner. a cross made with ashes and sand is described athwart the church, upon which cross of dust the alphabet is written in the shape of a cross in letters of greek and latin, but not of hebrew, because the jews have departed from the faith; and it is written with the pastoral staff. 22. this alphabet written upon the cross representeth three things. first, the writing made in greek and latin characters in the shape of a cross representeth the conjunction or union in faith of both people, namely, the jews and the greeks, which is made through the cross of christ: according to the saying that jacob blessed his sons with his hands crossed. but the cross itself or the legend that is described in a direction athwart the church, namely, the one arm from the left corner of the east to the right of the west, and the other from the right of the east to the left of the west, [footnote 397] signifieth that that people, which was before on the right is now made on the left, and that which was first is now made last, and the converse: and this owing to the power of the cross. for christ passing from the east, left the jews on his left hand, because they were unbelieving, and came to the gentiles, to whom, though they had been in the west, he grants to be on the right hand: and at length returning from the gentiles, who are situated at the right hand of the east, he visited the jews in the left corner of the west; who it is evident are worse than he before found the gentiles. but on this account the characters are written obliquely and in the shape of a cross, and not in a straight line, because such an one as doth not receive the mystery of the cross and doth not believe that he must be saved by the passion of christ, is not able to attain to this holy wisdom. wisdom will not enter into the evil-disposed mind, and where christ is not the foundation, no edifice can be built upon it. [footnote 397: we understand this to mean that the cross described in the church is a saltire, or s. andrew's cross, and not a plain one. upon this again consult the appendix.] {100} 23. secondly, the writing of the alphabet representeth the page of both testaments, because they be fulfilled by the cross of christ. for the veil of the temple was rent asunder at his passion, because then the scriptures were opened, and the holy of holies revealed. whence he himself said when dying, 'it is finished.' in these few letters also all knowledge is contained; and the alphabet is written crosswise, because one testament is contained in the other. for there was a wheel within a wheel. 24. thirdly, it representeth the articles of faith; for the pavement of the church is the foundation of our faith. the elements written thereon, are the articles of faith, in which ignorant men and neophytes from both peoples be instructed in the church; who indeed ought to esteem themselves dust and ashes. just as abraham saith in the xviii chapter of genesis, 'shall i speak to my lord, who am but dust and ashes?' wherefore the writing of the alphabet on the pavement is the simple teaching of faith in the human heart. 25. the _sambuca_ or staff, with which the alphabet is written, showeth the doctrine of the apostles, or the mystery of the teachers, by which the conversion of the gentiles hath been effected, and the perfidy of the jews. afterwards approaching the altar the bishop standeth, and beginneth by saying, 'o god, make speed to save us;' because he is then beginning the principal part of office. and the versicle, 'glory be to the father,' etc., is then said. 26. because this benediction is used to set forth the glory of the trinity, alleluia is not then uttered, as will be set forth in the next chapter. then the bishop consecrateth the altar, for which he blesseth other water, as {101} shall also be declared in the next chapter. with which water also, after that the altar hath been sprinkled seven times, the whole interior of the church is sprinkled three times, as at first without any distinction between greater and smaller stones, since 'there is no respect of persons with god.' for this reason is the interior sprinkled, to signify that an external ablution profiteth nothing without an internal charity. and for this reason three times, because, as hath been premised, that aspersion signifieth the aspersion and cleansing of baptism, which is conferred through the invocation of the trinity, according to the saying, 'go ye and teach all nations, baptising them in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy ghost:' [footnote 398] for since a church cannot be immersed in water as a man in baptism is immersed, it is on this account sprinkled three times with water, as if in the place of a threefold immersion. [footnote 398: s. matt, xxviii, 19.] 27. again, the bishop performeth the aspersion proceeding from the east to the west and once through the middle in the form of the cross; because christ gave instructions to baptise the whole of judea and all nations in the name of the trinity, to which baptism he gave efficacy in the ministry of his passion, beginning from the jews, from whom he had his birth. and what remains of the water is poured away at the foot of the altar, as shall be mentioned in the next chapter. some, however, do not bless any fresh water, but perform the whole office with that which was blessed at first. in the meanwhile, however, the choir is chanting the psalm _exsurgat deus_ ('let god arise and let his enemies be scattered,' etc.), and the _qui habitat_ ('whoso dwelleth,' etc.), in which mention is made of the church and its consecration, as is plain in that verse, 'he is the god {102} that maketh 'men to be of one mind in an house.' [footnote 399] but the bishop saith, 'my house shall be called an house of prayer,' because it is his duty to cause that the church should be a house of god, not of merchandise. [footnote 399: psalm lxviii (_exsurgat deus_), v, 5.] 28. next, when the altar hath been anointed with chrism, the twelve crosses painted on the walls of the church are also anointed. but the crosses themselves be painted; first, as a terror to evil spirits, that they, having been driven forth thence, may be terrified when they see the sign of the cross, and may not presume to enter therein again; secondly, as a mark of triumph. for crosses be the banners of christ, and the signs of his triumph. [footnote 400] crosses therefore are with reason painted there that it may be made manifest that that place hath been subdued to the dominion of christ. [footnote 400: compare the hymn, _vexilla regis prodeunt_.] 29. for even in the pomp of an earthly sovereign it is customary when any city hath been yielded, for the imperial standard to be set up within it. and to represent the same thing, jacob is said to have set up the stone, which he had placed under his head, as a historical, traditional, and triumphal monument. [footnote 401] [footnote 401: genesis xxviii.] 30. thirdly, that such as look on them may call to mind the passion of christ, by which he hath consecrated his church, and their belief in his passion. whence it is said in the canticles, 'place me as a signet upon thy arm,' etc. [footnote 402] the twelve lights placed before these crosses signify the twelve apostles who have illumined the whole world by the faith of the crucified, and whose teaching hath dispersed the darkness: whence bernard saith, 'all prophecy is verified in the faith of the crucified one;' and the apostle, 'i determined not to know anything among you except jesus christ and him crucified.' [footnote 403] {103} wherefore the crosses on the four walls of the church are lighted up and anointed with chrism, because the apostles preaching the mystery of the cross have by the faith of christ illumined the four quarters of the earth unto knowledge, have lighted them up unto love, have anointed them unto purity of conscience--which is signified by the oil; and unto the savour of a good reputation--which is signified by the balsam. in addition to this, after the anointing of the altar, the altar itself and the church are ornamented; the lamps lighted up; a mass is said, in which the priest useth different vestments from those which he hath used in the aspersion, as shall be explained in the sequel. [footnote 402: cant, viii, 6.] [footnote 403: i cor, ii, 2.] 31. lastly, it is to be noted that a church is said to be consecrated in the blood of someone; whence, according to pelagius and pope nicholas, the roman church was consecrated in the martyrdom of the apostles, peter and paul. [footnote 404] a church therefore is consecrated in the way just described; and an altar, as will be set forth in the next chapter; and a cemetery and other things, as is declared under the head of its consecration. and although we read in the old testament that the temple was consecrated three times: first, in the month of september; secondly, in march under darius; thirdly, in december by judas maccabaeus. [footnote 404: this passage is obscure. a confession or martyrium was built over the place of s. peter's martyrdom in the earliest times, and is now covered by the vatican. see ciampini de vaticana basilica. the expression probably means, in honour of the martyrdom.] 32. yet a church once consecrated, is not to be consecrated again unless it shall have been profaned, which happeneth in three ways. first, if it hath been burnt so as that all the walls or the greater part of them be destroyed. but if only the roof or some part of it hath been burnt, the walls remaining entire, or at least only {104} partially destroyed, it need not be reconsecrated. secondly, if the whole church or the greater part of it hath fallen to the ground at the same time, and hath been repaired entirely or not with the original stones. for the consecration of a church consisteth mainly in the exterior anointings, and in the conjunction and arrangement of the stones. if, however, all the walls shall have fallen in, not at the same time, but in succession, and shall have been repaired, the church is to be considered the same. and so it need not be reconsecrated, but only exorcised with water and reconciled by the solemnisation of a mass: however, some learned authors have said that it ought to be reconsecrated. thirdly, a church must be reconsecrated, if it be doubtful whether it ever hath been consecrated, should there remain no writing or painting or inscription to that effect, nor even a single eye-witness, nor yet an ear-witness, who (as some say) would be sufficient. 33. an altar also which hath been once consecrated must not be consecrated again unless it should happen that it become profaned. which taketh place first if the table, that is the upper surface on which the principal part of the consecration is bestowed, be moved or changed in its form, or broken beyond measure, for instance above a half. however, a disproportion of this sort may rightly be referred to the decision of the bishop. the same also is especially the case, if the whole structure of the altar hath been moved and repaired. nevertheless, the church is not to be reconsecrated on account of either the movement or the breaking of the structure of the altar: because the consecration of an altar and of a church be two different things. so conversely if when the church is entirely destroyed the altar be not injured, the church only is to be repaired, and the altar not reconsecrated although in such case it is fitting that it be washed with exorcised water. {105} 34. further, when the chief altar hath been consecrated the inferior altars are not the less to be consecrated: although some have said that it is sufficient for the rest to be pointed out with the finger while the former is under consecration. 35. if, however, the altar hath suffered a trifling injury, it is not on this account to be reconsecrated. secondly, an altar is reconsecrated, if the _seal_ of the altar--that is the little stone by which the sepulchre or cavity in which the relics be deposited is closed or sealed--be moved or broken. and the cavity itself is made sometimes on the top part of the block, and sometimes no other seal is put over it, but the _table_, being placed over it, is considered as the seal. but sometimes it is placed in the hinder part, and sometimes in the front: and in the same cavity the bishop's letters of consecration be generally carefully deposited in testimony of the consecration: containing his own name and that of the other bishops present at the consecration: and declaring in honour of what saint the altar is consecrated, and also the church itself, when both be consecrated at the same time, and the year also and day of consecration. thirdly, an altar is reconsecrated, if the junction of the seal to the cavity, or of the _table_ to the block, where there is no other seal than this slab, be disturbed; or if any of the stones of the junction or the block, which toucheth either the table or the seal, be either disturbed or broken. for in the conjunction of the seal and cavity, and of the table and block or inferior structure, the consecration is most especially perceived. {106} fourthly, an altar is reconsecrated, if to it or to the conjunction of the table with the under structure so great an enlargement be made as that it loseth its original form, since the form giveth the existence to the thing. yet it doth not become profaned on account of a trifling enlargement: but in that case the sacred part draweth over to itself the part not sanctified: so long as the conjunction of the top slab and under structure be not greatly changed. fifthly, an altar, just as a church, is reconsecrated in cases of doubt. sixthly, a travelling altar, if the stone be removed from the wood in which it is inserted, which in some sort representeth its _seal_, and be replaced again in the same or in other wood, some think should be reconsecrated, but others only reconciled. but although it be often by the command of the bishop transferred from place to place, and carried on a journey (on which account it is called a portable or a travelling altar) yet it is not reconsecrated in consequence of this, nor yet reconciled. 36. but if a consecrated chalice be regilt, is it therefore to be reconsecrated? it seemeth so, since it appeareth to become a new chalice. for he who doth renew the old fashion of a work seemeth to make a new work: and he doth remake, who doth mend a thing already made. and assuredly consecration doth pertain to the outer surface. and hence it is that i have said above that a church, if its walls be stripped of their outer coat, must be reconsecrated. 37. the converse is nevertheless true, that neither on account of whitewashing or painting the walls, nor of any small addition to them, is a church to be reconsecrated; as i have already said. wherefore, if the shape of the chalice be not changed, it remaineth the same chalice, and is not to be reconsecrated; just as also a church being repaired, since it remaineth the same church, is not to be reconsecrated, as aforesaid. {107} but if the former shape be changed, the case were otherwise, since, as i have said, the shape giveth existence to the thing. nevertheless, it is decent, as well by reason of its contact with unclean hands as also of the increment of unconsecrated matter, that a chalice, being regilded, should be washed with exorcised water before that the most holy body and blood of the lord be sacrificed therein. let us now say something about reconciliation. 38. upon this head it is to be noted that the spiritual temple, which is man, is ofttimes polluted. whence we do read in the twentieth of leviticus what men be polluted, and how they may not enter the church until they be washed with water and cleansed: as also in the nineteenth of numbers, 'he that toucheth the dead body of a man shall be unclean .... wherefore he shall purify himself and wash his clothes and bathe himself in water and shall be clean.' and the prophet saith, 'thou shalt purge me with hyssop and i shall be clean. [footnote 405] [footnote 405: psalm li (_miserere mei_), 7.] 39. the material temple also, which as pope gregory doth testify, is the church, is sometimes polluted, as we do read in leviticus. [footnote 406] whence saith the prophet, 'thy holy temple have they defiled and made jerusalem an heap of stones.' [footnote 407] and the material temple is also washed with water in order to be reconciled. [footnote 408] reconciliation is also effected by the celebration of a mass, and the aspersion of water duly consecrated with salt, wine, and ashes. for by the salt, is signified discretion; by the water, the people; by the wine, the divinity; by the ashes, the remembrance of the passion of christ; by the wine mixed with water, the union of godhead and manhood. [footnote 406: levit. xv, 31.] [footnote 407: psalm lxxix (_deus, venerunt_), i. ] [footnote 408: some of our readers may not know that reconciliation is the technical term for the restoring a desecrated church to a state fit for the performance of the divine offices.] {108} these things, therefore, be put together to denote that the people, being cleansed by a discerning remembrance of the passion of christ, are made one with him. also if the church hath once been consecrated, the reconciliation can be made by a bishop only. and albeit he might devolve upon a fellow-bishop the whole office, namely, both the blessing of the water and the reconciliation; or the benediction of the water only; or even the reconciliation alone with water blessed beforehand by himself; yet can neither be devolved upon a mere priest, unless perchance this be competent to him by a special privilege. but if the church hath not been consecrated, it ought, according to the constitution of gregory, to be washed forthwith with exorcised water: the which washing some do affirm may be done by a mere priest, though at the bidding of the bishop: since it hath to be done by exorcised water, which every priest may use. yet some skilful men of the highest authority have written that it is safer for this also to be done by none but a bishop, and that this may not be devolved by him to a priest; for certain canons do call exorcised water that which is solemnly blessed with wine and ashes:--and this is true indeed in regard of a church which although not consecrated hath been dedicated unto god. for it is otherwise with a mere oratory, which is neither a holy nor a religious place, inasmuch as any man doth order it at his will--at least for prayers, albeit perchance not for celebration without the license of the diocesan--and at his will assigneth the same place to another use. 40. a church then is to be reconsecrated in the aforesaid case: and also if any uncleanness be committed therein, whether by clerk, layman, heretic, or paynim. but albeit some wise men have thought otherwise, we opine that the case is different in regard of unintentional pollution. [footnote 409] [footnote 409: the editors have ventured to make a few omissions in this and some of the following sections.] {109} 41. a church also must be reconciled on account of any homicide, in any way intentionally committed therein, whether with or without the shedding of blood: and also, besides homicide, for any violence or injurious shedding of human blood, whether from a wound or not, or from the nose or the mouth. for we read in the old testament, in the fourteenth and fifteenth of leviticus, how that any man shedding blood, or polluted in divers ways, may not enter the temple. if, however, without violence or injury blood should flow in any natural way whatsoever within the church; or if any animal should be slain therein, or if anyone should die suddenly, or be killed by a falling stone or timber, or by lightning; for these and the like occasions the church is not reconciled. nor again, if anyone, having been wounded elsewhere, should flee to a church and die there even with great effusion of blood: since then the homicide is not committed in the church. but conversely, if anyone having been wounded in a church dieth without, or even if blood flow from the wound away from the church, the case is otherwise, even if the blood did not flow at all within the church: since the law regardeth the blow which causeth the wound. but and if blood be shed or other pollutions be caused on the roof of a church, no reconciliation is made, because the deed is committed without the church. 42. but if theft and rapine be committed in a church, it is reconciled by the custom which usually obtaineth in such matters. and some do affirm that the same ought to be done in any case of violence committed therein without the shedding of blood; for example, if anyone having taken refuge therein should be drawn forth with violence. also if anyone should break into the church or any quarrel should be tumultuously carried on, though without shedding of blood: or if anyone should be grievously beaten therein, so as his bones should be broken, or he be covered with weals and bruises, though without blood; {110} or again, if anyone, being condemned while present in a church either to death or mutilation, be led forth to go to the place of execution. but since these cases be not expressed in the law, it is not necessary for the church to be solemnly reconciled by the bishop. yet we think it is decent for it to be washed by the priest with exorcised water at the command of the bishop: and the same is to be said, if the church being a long-time without roof or doors, should have been open to all impurities, to animals and the natural use of men, as if a common inn: nor perchance would it be amiss for it in such case to be solemnly reconciled by the bishop. again, if anyone, slain without the church, be shortly borne into the church, and there the murderer or anyone else thinking he will not die should inflict on his yet warm body a blow causing blood to flow, then the church must be reconciled, as well by reason of the horror and abomination, as of the violence and intention of sinning: for though a dead man be not a man, yet is his human blood shed there by violence; and to the corpse itself is violence, horror, and injury offered. but the case is otherwise if anyone, having died a natural death, be, through respect of, and honour to his body, dismembered in the church or disembowelled, that perhaps one part may be buried in one place, and another in another. 43. a church must also be reconciled, in which an infidel, or one publicly excommunicated be buried; and then the walls are to be scraped. in the aforesaid cases, however, in which a church is to be reconciled, it is requisite that the fact causing the reconciliation should be known at least by report. {111} 44. for this is a scandal to the church, the horror and abomination of baseness and sin and violence committed in a sacred place, or in a church: wherein the pardon for offences is besought, wherein there ought to be a refuge of defence, wherein is offered the saving sacrifice for sins, wherein also those that flee for refuge be saved, and praises be rendered unto god. furthermore, the intention and design of sinning mortally therein do cause a church to be reconciled. but if this design be hidden, reconciliation is not necessary, since the church itself, being holy, cannot be polluted; nay, the holiness of the place itself doth do away with the infamy: albeit some do think the contrary of this, as that it ought to be reconciled at least privately, so that the delinquents be not exposed. 45. for reconciliation is performed for an example and warning, that all who behold the church, which hath in no wise sinned, washed and purified for the delict of another, may reflect how they themselves must work out the expiation of their own sins. 46. also a cemetery, in which a paynim, or an infidel or one excommunicate be buried, is to be reconciled; the bones, however, of the paynim, if they can be distinguished from those of the faithful, being interred elsewhere. a cemetery also is reconciled in the above-mentioned cases, in which a church is to be reconciled: for a cemetery enjoyeth the same privileges as doth a church, as we shall say in the chapter of sacred unctions; for it is a holy place from the time of its benediction; and it is reconciled by the bishop, just as a church, by the aspersion of water, blessed with wine and ashes. 47. but this is to be noted, that in whatsoever part of the church or the cemetery the violence or pollution be committed, both the church and the cemetery, and also the several parts of either, by reason of their contiguity, are understood to be violated. this first hath of late been set straight by pope boniface. for albeit the consecrations of the church, the altar, and the cemetery be diverse, yet is the immunity of them one and the same and is not to be restricted to any one of them separately, nor to any individual part of either. {112} this indeed is true if the church and cemetery be adjacent: but if the one be at a distance from the other, one may well be violated without the other. if therefore when one is violated or polluted, the other be also violated and polluted; by the like reason, if one only be reconciled the other is also taken to be reconciled: since nothing is more natural than that everything should be loosed in the same method as it is bound, and that the relation of binding and loosing should be the same. wherefore when the cemetery is violated or polluted, it sufficeth that the church be reconciled. there be nevertheless some who do affirm simply that by the pollution of the one, the other is in no wise polluted, and by consequence that each should be reconciled separately. yet these doth the authority of the pontifical oppose, in which is found a special form for the reconciliation of a cemetery. lastly, if a church or a cemetery, or any such thing, be consecrated or blessed by a bishop under excommunication, these, some affirm, do not require reconciliation, since sacraments administered by such in the form of the church be valid. but since (as aforesaid) one or more excommunicate persons do profane a cemetery or church, much more indeed do the external sacraments and benedictions, which proceed from the hands and mouth of an excommunicate person, appear so far as pertaineth to their own merits to be contaminated and to stink before god. wherefore it is decent that we should reconcile them before the faithful use these sacraments; as in truth the reading of the sacred canons doth evidently teach. for the lord saith by the prophet, 'i will curse your blessings.' [footnote 410] [footnote 410: malachi ii. 2.] {113} chapter vii of the consecration of an altar rise of the consecration of altars--manner of the same--the benediction of water--the aspersions--the hyssop--consideration of relics--the altar must be of stone--the incense--the benediction of church ornaments. 1. not only is a church consecrated, but also the altar: and this for three reasons. first, with regard to the sacrament thereon to be offered to god. noah [footnote 411] built an altar to the lord, and offered a sacrifice upon it, taking some of all clean birds and beasts. but this sacrament is the body and blood of christ which is sacrificed in remembrance of the lord's passion, according to the command, 'this do in commemoration of me.' [footnote 412] [footnote 411: genesis viii.] [footnote 412: s. luke xxii, 19.] 2. secondly, with regard to the invocation in that place of the name of god: whence [footnote 413] abraham built an altar to god who appeared unto him, and called there upon the name of the lord. but this invocation, which takes place over the altar, is properly called the mass. [footnote 413: genesis xii.] 3. thirdly, with regard to chanting: 'he gave him patience against his enemies, and caused singers also to stand before the altar, that by their voices they might make sweet melody.' [footnote 414] [footnote 414: eccles. xlvii, 9.] {114} 4. the consecration of an altar is performed in this method and order. the bishop beginneth, 'o god, make speed to save us.' afterwards he blesseth the water, and then at the four horns [footnote 415] of the altar he describeth four crosses with the consecrated water. next, he goeth round the altar seven times, and sprinkleth the _table_ [footnote 416] of the altar seven times with holy water, by means of an aspersory of hyssop. the church also is again sprinkled, and the remainder of the water is poured at the foot of the altar: and then four crosses be made with chrism at the four corners of the sepulchre in which the relics are to be deposited; and the relics themselves be placed in a case, together with three grains of frankincense, and so be buried in the sepulchre. then is placed upon the sepulchre its cover, [footnote 417] strengthened in the middle by the sign of the cross: afterwards the stone, which is called the table, is fitted to the top of the altar, and when fitted is anointed with oil in five places, and in the same way is further anointed afterwards with chrism, as hath been said when speaking about oil. the altar also is confirmed in front by the chrism applied in the form of the cross, and incense is burnt upon it in the five places. after this the altar is covered up, and is spread with clean cloths, and then at length the sacrifice is celebrated upon it. now let us follow out each of the above-mentioned ceremonies in succession. [footnote 415: the word _horn_ appears to be used simply for _corner_, evidently with reference to the altar of the temple, which had raised projections, or horns at its angles.] [footnote 416: we shall use the word _table_ to denote the _mensa_ or upper surface of the altar, on which the chief part of the ceremonies of consecration were performed.] [footnote 417: this passage is obscure, and receives no light from other ritualists who have not spoken much on the consecration of altars. from the 25 of the chapter we apprehend that this slab, or cover of the sepulchre, was marked with a cross of chrism before it was fitted on to the cavity.] {115} 5. first, then, it is to be noted, that an altar is consecrated by the unction of chrism and act of blessing intervening, and that it is only and entirely of stone. the bishop standing up beginneth, 'o god, make speed to save us,' because the lord himself saith, 'without me ye can do nothing.' [footnote 418] [footnote 418: s. john xv, 5.] 6. and because this dedication signifieth that those must be baptised, who, after receiving the faith, are preparing themselves to fight, and who are still situated amongst the sighs and struggles of this world; on this account the alleluia is omitted, since those who be not baptised be not worthy to join in the praises of angels: whence it is written in tobit, 'and all her streets shall say alleluia.' [footnote 419] but after that the consecration of the church or of the altar is completed, the alleluia is chanted, because the delusions of devils having been expelled, god shall be praised thereupon. for christ even when approaching to the altar of the cross in order to manifest the glory of his eternity, paid the penalty of death: not until after his resurrection sang he alleluia. [footnote 419: tobit xiii, 18.] 7. secondly, with respect to the blessing of water, it is to be noted that this kind of exorcising water is performed in order to expel the enemy from it. in which blessing four things be necessary; namely, water, wine, salt, and ashes. and this for three reasons. 8. (i) because there be four things which expel the enemy. the first is the outpouring of tears, which is denoted by the water: the second is the exultation of the soul, which is denoted by the wine: the third is natural discretion, which by the salt; the fourth, a profound humility, which is signified by the ashes. wherefore the water is penitence, the wine exaltation of mind, the salt wisdom (as was shown in the preceding chapter), the ashes the humility of penitence. whence it is said of the ninevites that their 'king rose up from his throne, and clothed himself with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.' [footnote 420] {116} hence also david saith, 'for i have eaten ashes as it were bread.' [footnote 421] hence also abraham saith, 'shall i speak to my lord, who am but dust and ashes?' [footnote 422] [footnote 420: jonah iii, 6.] [footnote 421: psalm cii (_domine exaudi_), 9.] [footnote 422: genesis xviii, 27.] 9. (ii) in a second sense water is the people or mankind, because many waters are many peoples; wine is the deity; salt, the teaching of the divine law which is the salt of the covenant; ashes, that which preserveth the remembrance of the lord's passion. wine mixed with water, is christ, god and man. for by means of faith in the lord's passion (_ashes_), which is had through the teaching of the divine law (_salt_), the people, denoted by the water, is joined through the union of faith, to its head, god and man. 10. (iii) in a third method we may say also that this consecrated water signifieth the holy spirit, without whose influence nothing ever is sanctified, and without whose grace there is no remission of sins. that the holy spirit is called water, truth itself showeth when he saith, 'whosoever believeth in me, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water': [footnote 423] which the evangelist explaining saith, 'this he spake of the holy ghost which they should receive who believed upon him.' [footnote 423: s. john vii, 38, 39.] 11. and note the order of the sacrament; the church is consecrated outwardly by water, inwardly by the spirit. for this is what the lord saith, 'unless a man shall be born again of water and of the holy ghost,' etc. [footnote 424] here is the water: here the holy spirit. for in the sacrament of baptism, neither is the water without the spirit, nor the spirit without the water: which element indeed the spirit himself did sanctify, when in the first creation of the world 'he moved upon the face {117} of the waters.' [footnote 425] with this water therefore, both the altar itself and the whole interior of the church is sprinkled, when both it and the altar are dedicated on the same occasion. [footnote 424: s. john iii, 5.] [footnote 425: genesis i, 2.] 12. although therefore the spirit and water would suffice for the perfect operation of baptism and the consecration of a church, yet the holy fathers who have made this constitution, wished to satisfy us not only in those particulars which pertain to the efficacy of the sacraments, but in those also which relate to its greater sanctification: and on this account they have added salt, wine, oil, ashes, and chrism. (for philip, when he baptised the eunuch, had neither oil nor chrism.) therefore not one of these ingredients ought to be wanting; and they ought all to be mixed together, because the people of god, which is the church, is neither sanctified nor released from sins without the union of these qualities. on this i shall treat also in the chapter upon consecrations. with respect to water indeed the case is evident, because 'unless a man be born again,' etc. 13. with respect to the salt also; because without the seasoning of faith, which is typified by the salt, no one shall ever be saved, albeit he be sprinkled by the water of baptism. also with respect to wine, by means of which the spiritual intelligence of the divine law is denoted. whence the lord at the marriage in cana turned the water into wine. but if anyone shall not have been sprinkled with this, that is, shall not have drunk of this or have believed those who offered it to him to drink, he shall not attain to the blessedness of eternal life. the aspersion of ashes also, by which the humility of penitence is understood, is so necessary, that without it there is no remission of sins in adults; for through it they come to baptism, and it is the sole refuge for such as have sinned {118} after baptism. whence not without reason is baptism called from it: the lord speaking in the gospel concerning john baptist 'that he came into the whole region of galilee, preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins.' [footnote 426] note also that there be four kinds of consecrated water, of which we shall speak in the fourth book, and at the head of 'the aspersion of holy water.' [footnote 427] [footnote 426: s. mark i, 4.] [footnote 427: there be four kinds of holy water, one, by the which is made the judgment of expurgation, which is no longer used; a second, which doth sanctify in the consecration of a church or an altar; a third, with which aspersions be made in the church; and a fourth, the water of baptism.'--durandus, lib. iv, iv, 10.] 14. when all these ingredients have been mixed, the bishop maketh four crosses with this water at the four horns of the altar, and one in the middle; [footnote 428] the four crosses represent the fourfold charity which they ought to have who approach the altar, viz., love for god, themselves, their friends, and their enemies. of which four corners of charity it is said in genesis, 'thou shalt spread into the east, and the west, and the north, and the south': and for this reason be the four crosses made at the four corners to show that christ, by his cross, hath saved the four quarters of the world. secondly, they be made to point out that we ought to bear the cross of the lord in four ways; namely, in our heart by meditation, in our mouth by confession, in our body by mortification of the flesh, in our face by constant impression. the cross in the middle of the altar signifieth the passion which christ underwent in the middle of the earth, by which he worked out salvation in the middle of the earth; that is, in jerusalem. [footnote 428: the _tables_, or upper slabs of the altar, were inscribed with five crosses, one at each corner and one in the middle: as are also the altar stones which are found in the middle of the frightful wooden altars abroad at this day. see an interesting list of altar slabs in the 'few hints' of the cambridge camden society.] {119} 15. next, the bishop goeth seven times round the altar, (i) firstly, to signify that he ought to exercise care for all, and to keep himself vigilant, which is denoted by the act of going round. whence at that time they chant, 'the watchmen that went about the city found me.' [footnote 429] for a bishop ought to watch anxiously over the flocks committed to him: for as gilbert saith, 'a ridiculous thing it is, a blind watchman, a lame leader, a negligent prelate, an untaught teacher, and a dumb preacher.' [footnote 429: cant. v, 7.] 16. (ii) secondly, the seven circuits of the altar do signify the seven meditations which we ought to entertain respecting the sevenfold virtue of the humility of christ, and of which we ought to make frequent circuits in our minds. the first virtue is, that from being rich he became poor; the second, that he was laid in a manger: the third, that he was subject to his parents; the fourth, that he bowed his head under the hand of a slave; the fifth, that he bore with a thief and a betrayer as a disciple; the sixth, that he stood gentle before an unrighteous judge; the seventh, that he mercifully prayed for them that crucified him. 17. (iii) thirdly, by the seven circuits be indicated the seven journeys of christ. the first was from heaven to the virgin's womb; the second, thence into the manger; the third, from the manger into the world; the fourth, from the world to the cross; the fifth, from the cross to the sepulchre; the sixth, from the sepulchre to the place of spirits; the seventh, from the place of spirits to heaven. 18. after this, the bishop sprinkleth the altar. but what the altar signifieth in a temple, the apostle telleth us: 'for the temple of god is holy, which temple ye are.' [footnote 430] wherefore, if we be the temple of god, 'we {120} have an altar.' [footnote 431] our altar is our heart: for the heart is in a man what the altar is in a temple. on this altar is made the sacrifice of praise and joy, according to the saying of the psalmist: 'the sacrifices of god are a broken spirit,' etc. [footnote 432] on this altar is made the commemoration of the body and blood of christ. from it do prayers rise to heaven, because god looketh to the heart. this altar, therefore, is sprinkled with water when the hearts of men, by means of the preaching of the gospel, are cleansed from sin. for preaching is water, according to that saying: 'all ye that thirst, come to the waters.' [footnote 433] by this water, therefore, that is, by the preaching of the gospel and the sanctification of the holy ghost, both the altar of the heart and the whole man are cleansed and sanctified. for the altar of the heart is consecrated by the conception of fear, inviting to good, and by the affection of love, confirming to the better. 'for the fear of the lord is the beginning of wisdom.' [footnote 434] [footnote 430: 2 cor. vi, 16.] [footnote 431: heb. xiii, 10.] [footnote 432: ps. li (_miserere mei deus_), 17.] [footnote 433: isaiah lv, 1.] [footnote 434: ps. cxi (_confitebor tibi_), 10.] 19. but the altar is sprinkled seven times with water to notify that in baptism the seven gifts of the holy spirit be conferred. by this also it is set forth that we ought to have a remembrance of the lord's passion. for the seven aspersions of water be the seven outpourings of the blood of christ. the first whereof was at circumcision; the second in prayer, when his sweat was as drops of blood; the third, at the scourging; the fourth, from the crown of thorns; the fifth, from his pierced hands; the sixth, when his feet were nailed to the cross; the seventh, when his side was opened. some, however, sprinkle three times, because we baptise in the name of the holy trinity; or because the church is cleansed from sins of thought, word, and deed; whence also at that time the _miserere mei_ is said. {121} 20. moreover, these aspersions be made with an aspersory made of hyssop, by which herb, because it is lowly, the lowliness of christ is conveniently represented: since the above-mentioned effusions of blood were accompanied by the hyssop, of the humility and inextinguishable love of christ by which the catholic church being sprinkled is purified. this herb also groweth naturally upon rock: and lowliness of disposition hath grown upon christ the rock. for according to the apostle, 'that rock was christ.' [footnote 435] it is also of a warm nature; and the humility of christ inflameth cold hearts to the practice of works of love. its roots also penetrate the rocks; and humility breaketh through the hardest of obstinacy. it availeth for diseases of the breast and against swelling: so doth humility heal the swelling of pride. the former also is born from, and rooted in, the earth: whence by it the whole multitude of the faithful may be understood; and those especially be figured by the hyssop, who, rooted and grounded in christ, cannot be plucked up or separated from his love. by whom what can we understand better than the bishops and presbyters, because the more dignity they obtain in the church, the more firmly ought they to cleave to the faith of christ. by these assuredly is the water aspersed; by and through these be the faithful of christ baptised; to these is it given to perfect the sacrament of baptism. [footnote 435: i corinthians x, 4.] 21. but whilst the altar is being sprinkled with water the bishop chanteth, 'my house shall be called an house of prayer,' etc., [footnote 436] and again, 'i will tell out thy name to my brethren.' [footnote 437] and because without god no work is perfectly consummated, he prayeth that those who enter therein to seek for blessings may be heard. [footnote 436: s. matthew xxi, 13.] [footnote 437: psalm xxii (_deus deus meus_), 22.] {122} afterwards, when the church and altar are consecrated at the same time, the whole church is sprinkled with that water, as was discussed in the preceding chapter, which being done, the bishop approacheth the altar repeating psalms, and what remains of the water is poured away at the foot of the altar, as in the old testament [footnote 438] what remained of the blood was poured away at the bottom of the altar; by which it is signified that the remainder in so great a sacrament, which is beyond human power, is given over unto god, who is the chief high priest, whose part it is to supply the defect of other priests. but the sepulchre or cavity in which relics ought to be deposited, signifieth the golden pot full of manna, which was placed in the ark of the testimony, as hath been explained under the head of the altar. [footnote 438: exodus xxix, 12.] 22. a sepulchre of this sort, which by some is termed a _confession_, is our heart; and it is consecrated by four crosses made with chrism, because there be four virtues described in the book of wisdom--namely, prudence, fortitude, temperance, and justice--with which our heart is, as it were, anointed, when it is prepared by the gift of the holy spirit to receive the mysteries of the heavenly secrets. but this sepulchre is made sometimes at the upper part of the altar, sometimes in the front side of it. 23. without the relics of saints, or, where they cannot be had, without the body of christ, [footnote 439] there is no consecration of a fixed altar: but there may be of a travelling or portable one. relics in truth are, after the example of both testaments, evidences of the suffering of martyrs and lives of confessors; which things be left to us as examples. these we enclose in a case, because we retain them, in order to imitate them in our heart: but if we hear and understand and do no works, {123} it tendeth rather to damnation than to salvation; because 'not the hearers of the law are just before god, but the doers only'; [footnote 440] whence the apostle saith, 'be ye imitators of me as i am also of christ.' [footnote 441] [footnote 439: see chapter ii.] [footnote 440: romans ii, 13.] [footnote 441: i corinthians xi, 1.] 24. but the solemn carrying of relics is in imitation of what is read in the xxv chapter of exodus. in the ark of the testament there were two golden rings, going through the whole thickness of the wood, and through these were put the staves of shittim wood overlaid with gold, by which the ark was borne. and before the bishop entereth the church he goeth round it with the relics in order that they may be protectors of that church. we read also in the viii chapter of the third book of kings that at the dedication of the temple 'there were assembled together all the elders of israel, with the chiefs of the tribes, and the heads of families to king solomon in jerusalem, to carry the ark of the covenant of the lord; and there came all the elders of israel, and the priests brought in the ark of the covenant of the lord into his place, into the oracle of the house, to the most holy place, even under the wings of the cherubims. for the cherubims spread forth their two wings over the place of the ark, and the cherubims covered the ark and the staves thereof above. and king solomon, and all the congregation of israel that were assembled unto him, marched with him before the ark.' [footnote 442] in remembrance of this event, the prelates, great men, and people [footnote 443] of the province meet together, even at this day, for the dedication of churches, and follow in procession him that consecrateth: and relics are solemnly carried by priests under a pavilion or canopy. afterwards the bishop, before he entereth the church with these, addresseth the people. for solomon also, after the ark had been {124} carried, 'turned his face about, and blessed all the congregation of israel,' and prayed for such as should pray in the church. 'for all the congregation of israel stood, and solomon said, blessed be the lord god of israel,' etc., as is read in the same place. [footnote 444 ] [footnote 442: i kings viii, 2, 6, 7.] [footnote 443: the venice edition of 1609 reads _apostoli_ here.] [footnote 444: i kings, viii.] 25. but the relics of saints are enclosed in a case together with three grains of frankincense, because we ought to retain in our recollection the examples of the saints, together with faith in the trinity, that is, in the father, son, and holy ghost. for we ought to believe one god, one faith, one baptism, because 'the just liveth by faith,' [footnote 445] without which, as the apostle hath said, 'it is impossible to please god.' [footnote 446] there is placed upon and fitted to the sepulchre itself a certain board fortified by the sign of the cross made with chrism. [footnote 447] for by chrism is understood the gift of the holy spirit, with which this board, that is charity, is anointed; because our heart is fortified by the grace of the holy spirit to observance of the heavenly mysteries. the board therefore fortified by this sign is placed over the relics, because by the example of the saints is inflamed charity, 'which covereth a multitude of sins,' [footnote 448] just as also the board covereth the relics. whence saith the apostle, 'the love of god is spread abroad in our hearts by the holy spirit which is given unto us.' [footnote 449] but this slab or stone containeth, or is called, the _seal_ of the sepulchre; as saith pope alexander iii. [footnote 445: romans i, 17.] [footnote 446: hebrews xi 6.] [footnote 447: see above, section 4, note 7.] [footnote 448: i s. peter iv, 8.] [footnote 449: romans v, 5.] after this, however, the stone, which is called the _table_ of the altar, is fitted to the top of the altar; by which we may understand the perfection and solidity of the knowledge of god; and it ought to be of stone, not because of the hardness, but the solidity of faith. just as the lord said unto peter, 'thou art peter, and upon this rock'--that is, upon this firmness of faith--'i will build my church.' [footnote 450] [footnote 450: s matthew xvi, 18.] {125} 26. for as this _table_ is the completion and finishing of the altar, so is the knowledge of god the confirmation and perfection of all good gifts. whence in the book of wisdom it is said unto the lord, 'for to know thee is perfect wisdom, and to know thy justice and thy virtue is the root of immortality.' [footnote 451] the lord saith by jeremiah, 'let him that glorieth glory in this, that he understandeth and knoweth me.' [footnote 452] [footnote 451: wisdom xv, 3.] [footnote 452: jeremiah ix, 24.] 27. or, again, by this stone itself is understood christ, of whom the apostle saith, 'jesus christ himself being the chief corner-stone.' [footnote 453] by the stone indeed the humanity of christ is denoted. concerning which we read in daniel that a stone was cut out of the rock without hands--because christ was born of the blessed virgin (who for the excellency of her virtues is called a mountain), without human agency--and, becoming a huge mountain, filled the whole earth. concerning which it is said also by the psalmist, 'the stone which the builders refused hath become the head stone of the corner:' [footnote 454] since christ--whom the builders, that is the jews, refused, saying, 'we will not have this man to reign over us' [footnote 455] --hath been made the head of the corner. because as saith the apostle, 'god hath exalted him, and given him,' [footnote 456] etc. or else by this stone, which ought to be great and wide, charity is understood, as was stated before; since the command of charity is wide, extending even unto our enemies; according to that precept of our lord, 'love your enemies.' [footnote 457] [footnote 453: ephesians ii, 20.] [footnote 454: psalm cxviii (_confitemini domino_), 22.] [footnote 455: s. luke xix, 14.] [footnote 456: philippians ii. 10.] [footnote 457: s. matthew v, 44.] {126} 28. altars therefore, unless they be of stone, are not anointed, because christ signified by the altar is the stone growing into a mountain: as it is said, the mountain itself is fat, 'being anointed with the oil of gladness, above his fellows.' [footnote 458] nevertheless we read in exodus that the lord ordered the altars to be made of shittim wood, which does not decay; [footnote 459] and the latern altar is of wood. solomon also made an altar of gold, as we read in the eighth chapter of the third book of kings: but these things were done for a type. [footnote 460] and in the county of province, in the castle of s. mary by the sea, there is also an altar of earth, which mary magdalene, and martha and mary the mother of james, and mary the mother of salome, made there. [footnote 461] after this, the altar having been sprinkled and baptised with water, it remaineth for it to be anointed with oil and chrism. the bishop then poureth over it oil and chrism, and chanteth, 'jacob set up the stone for a memorial, and poured oil upon it.' [footnote 462] for that church hath been the memorial of other churches; 'for the law hath gone out from sion, and the word of the lord from jerusalem.' [footnote 463] [footnote 458: psalm xlv (_eructavit cor meum_), 8.] [footnote 459: exodus xxvii, i, etc.] [footnote 460: the same examples are briefly adduced in the notes to the decretal. ciampini describes the wooden altar of the lateran, and mentions its numerous escapes from fire. it was made of firewood, because 'abies non cedit vermibus unquam, nec putret facile.' see also stephen durantus, _de rit. ecc. cathol._lib. i, xxv, 3, quoting from de turrecremata, about the lateran altar, and generally about the subject of this chapter.] [footnote 461: according to the golden legend, s. mary magdalene, with other saints, amongst whom was s. lazarus, were placed by the jews in a ship which was borne by the sea to marseilles. the country was converted, and s. lazarus became the first bishop. the people of vezelay, in burgundy, also claimed the honour of possessing the relics of s. mary magdalene. durandus, a native of provence, gives it to the latter country. this curious passage of our author seems to have been overlooked by some who have attempted to adjust the dispute.] [footnote 462: genesis xxviii, 18.] [footnote 463: isaiah ii, 3.] 29. but first he maketh upon it the five crosses, with the oil of the sick, according to the roman order; but according to the use of some other churches, with both sorts of oil; one cross in the middle, and four at the corners: afterwards, he maketh the same number of crosses in the same way with chrism. {127} by the oil assuredly is understood the grace of the holy ghost, of which saith esaias the prophet, 'the yoke shall be destroyed because of the anointing.' [footnote 464] for as the bishop poureth oil upon the altar, so christ, who is the chief high priest, poureth his grace upon our altar, which is our heart: for he is the distributor of all graces through the holy ghost, as saith the apostle, 'to one is given the word of wisdom, to another the word of knowledge, to another faith, to another the gift of healing,' etc. [footnote 465] and just as the bishop, by means of oil, cleanseth the _table_ of the altar, so also cloth the holy ghost purify our heart from all vices and sins. [footnote 464: isaiah x, 27.] [footnote 465: i corinthians xii, 8.] 30. christ also was anointed with oil, not with visible oil indeed, but with invisible; that is with the grace of the holy ghost. whence david, 'the lord thy god hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows'; [footnote 466] that is above all the saints who have been partakers of his grace, that is, christ. whence unction more expressedly agreeth with christ (the anointed one) than with others, because god hath anointed him above all others to have the fulness of good things, and therefore his name is interpreted 'the anointed.' unction also with oil signifieth mercy, according to that saying of the evangelist, 'anoint thy head with oil, and wash thy face': [footnote 467] because as oil is among fluids, so is mercy superior among good works. for whatever liquid you pour upon oil, yet it always swimmeth at the top. of mercy it is written, 'the lord is loving unto every man, and his mercy is over all his works,' [footnote 468] and 'mercy rejoiceth against judgment.' [footnote 469] with this oil, therefore, is the {128} altar of our 'heart anointed, that being always mindful of mercy, we may never lose the effect of the aspersion of water, and of regeneration and of baptism. [footnote 466: psalm xlv (_eructavit cor meum_), 8.] [footnote 467: s. matthew vi, 17.] [footnote 468: psalm cxlv (_exaltabo te deus_), 9.] [footnote 469: s. james ii, 13.] 31. the five crosses made with the oil signify that we ought always to have a remembrance of the five wounds of christ, which he suffered for our sakes upon the cross. for he suffered five wounds; namely, in his hands, his feet, and in his side. 32. they denote further the five feelings of pity which be necessary for us. for it is necessary for a man to pity christ, by sympathising in his passion: whence job, in the person of christ, saith, 'pity me, pity me,' etc. [footnote 470] a man must also pity his neighbours whose calamities he seeth; whence in ecclesiasticus, 'the pity of a man towards his neighbour.' [footnote 471] and a man must pity himself: and this in three ways; namely, for the sins of commission, by bewailing them; whence jeremiah, 'there is no one who hath penitence for his sin, saying, what have i done?' [footnote 472] --for his sins of omission: whence isaiah, 'woe is me, for i have held my peace,' [footnote 473] that is, for i have not spoken; as if he should say, for i have omitted the good that i might have done:--and for good deeds done for less pure motives; whence s. luke saith, 'when we have done all good deeds, we must say that we are unprofitable servants,' etc.; [footnote 474] as if we should say, we have done good, but not well, not purely, and therefore we have done it unprofitably; just as anyone giving alms for vain glory doth good indeed, but not well and not purely. of this threefold compassion it is said in ecclesiasticus, 'have pity on thy soul and please god;' [footnote 475] because true compassion of mind ought to coexist with the exhibition of good works. {129} wherefore the crosses be twice made; the first time of oil, the second of chrism: whence the psalm, 'a good man is merciful and lendeth'; [footnote 476] that is, pitieth in mind, and lendeth in deed. and since it sufficeth not to have compassion in mind together with the exhibition of good deeds, without the savour of a good report, according to that saying of the gospel, 'let your light so shine before men that they may glorify god'; [footnote 477] therefore the crosses be made with chrism, which consisteth of balsam and oil. [footnote 470: job xix, 21.] [footnote 471: eccles. xviii, 12--_vulgate_.] [footnote 472: jeremiah viii, 6.] [footnote 473: isaiah vi, 5--_vulgate_.] [footnote 474: s. luke xvii, 10.] [footnote 475: eccles. xxx, 24--_vulgate_.] [footnote 476: psalm cxii (_beatus vir_), 5.] [footnote 477: s. matthew v. 16.] 33. balsam indeed, on account of its good odour, signifieth good report; oil, on account of its brightness, signifieth the clearness of conscience which we ought to have: according to the saying of the apostle, 'our rejoicing is this, the testimony of our conscience.' [footnote 478] again, balsam is properly conjoined with oil, because good report is added to mercifulness. [footnote 478: 2 corinthians i, 12.] 34. again, by the five crosses made of oil and of chrism the five senses of our body be understood, which are doubled and made into ten, because by properly using the senses of our body, we both keep ourselves, and confirm others by our example and teaching in well-doing. whence that good trader boasted, saying, 'behold i have gained five more talents.' [footnote 479] but whilst these anointings are going on, they chant, 'the lord thy god hath anointed thee,' [footnote 480] which was said of christ. [footnote 479: s. matthew xxv, 20.] [footnote 480: hebrews i, 9.] the altar therefore is anointed three times; twice with oil, and once with chrism; because the church is marked by faith, hope, and charity, which last is greater than the others. and while the chrism is used they chant, 'see the smell of my son is as the smell of a field.' [footnote 481] this field is the church, which is verdant with flowers, which shineth in virtues, which is fragrant with good works; {130} and wherein be the roses of martyrs, the lilies of virgins, the violets of confessors, and the verdure of beginners in the faith. after the unction there is incense burnt, which signifieth the devotion of prayer. for he that hath the seven gifts of the holy ghost, and is made like unto god, is able to offer unto him devout prayer, of which he hath this similitude. [footnote 481: genesis xxvii, 27.] 35. it is burnt in five places, namely, at the four corners and in the middle, because we ought so to exercise the five senses of the body that the report of our good works may extend to our neighbours. of which saith the apostle, 'we are the sweet savour of christ in every place.' [footnote 482 ] and in the gospel, 'let your light so shine before men,' etc. besides this, the frequent use of incense is the continual mediation of christ the priest, and our high priest, for us unto god the father. [footnote 482: 2 corinthians, ii, 15.] 36. to describe a cross with the incense, is to exhibit his passion to the father and him interceding for us. the burning incense plenteously in the middle and at the corners is to multiply prayers through jerusalem and in the catholic church. 37. next to this the bishop confirmeth the altar with the sign of the cross, saying, 'confirm this altar, o lord,' etc. and this confirmation performed by the bishop with chrism on the front of the stone, signifieth the confirmation which is performed daily by the holy spirit, through charity, upon the altar of the heart, so that no tribulation should avail to separate our heart from the love of god: whence saith the apostle, 'who shall separate us from the love of christ? shall tribulation?' etc.' [footnote 483] then there is added the _gloria patri_ in praise of the trinity. [footnote 483: romans viii, 35.] {131} 38. the last benediction of the altar signifieth that final benediction when it shall be said, 'come, ye blessed of my father,' etc. [footnote 484] afterwards the altar is wiped over with a white linen cloth, to notify that we ought to cleanse our heart by chastity of life. then the vessels, vestments, and linen cloths, devoted to the divine worship are blessed. for moses also during the forty days was instructed by the lord to provide linen cloths and the ornaments necessary for the temple. [footnote 484: s. matthew xx, 34.] 39. assuredly, thus to bless the utensils is to refer all our works unto the lord. after this, the altar is covered with white and clean cloths: concerning which ceremony we have spoken under the head of the altar. lastly, the church is ornamented and the lamps are lighted: for then shall the works of the just shine forth, 'then shall the just shine, as sparks run swiftly among the stubble.' [footnote 485] and then upon the altar, consecrated after this order, the mass is celebrated and the sacrifice offered unto the most highest: that sacrifice, namely, of which the prophet speaketh, 'the sacrifices of god are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, o god, thou wilt not despise': [footnote 486] as shall be declared in the introduction to the fourth book. [footnote 487] for consecration ought not to be performed without a mass, according to pope gelasius, [footnote 488] because then there is revealed a sacrament, which hath been hidden from the angels even from the beginning. [footnote 485: wisdom iii, 7.] [footnote 486: psalm li (_miserere mei deus_). 17.] [footnote 487: the blessed bernard saith, my brethren, let us in sacrificing add the sacrifice of praise unto our words, let us add sense to sense, affection unto affection, exaltation unto exaltation, maturity unto maturity, and humility unto humility. wherefore, he that is about to celebrate must offer unto the highest that sacrifice of which the psalmist speaketh, 'the sacrifices of god are a troubled spirit.' and again, 'offer unto god the sacrifice of thanksgiving.' and the apostle, 'present your bodies a living sacrifice holy acceptable unto god which is your reasonable service, mortifying upon the altar of your heart your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry'; in order to sacrifice yourselves with a pure heart and chaste body unto god.--proem, lib. iv, 17.] [footnote 488: quoted also in the decretal _de consecrat. distinct._ i.] {132} and observe, that in the aspersion of the church the bishop useth only the linen and inferior vestments: but at the mass he is adorned with pontifical and precious vestments, because the high priest in the law used to expiate the sanctuary in a linen ephod, and afterwards used to offer the ram for the burnt offering being washed and arrayed in the high priest's vestments. but because he used to send forth the scapegoat after the expiation being clothed in the same linen ephod, on this account some, in the consecration of fonts and immersion of the catechumens where their sins are transferred, do use the simple linen vestments. {133} chapter viii of consecrations and unctions of chrism--of the name christ, and of christians--the heresy of the arnaldistae--the anointing of priests--of bishops--of kings--of the consecration of chalices and patens--of extreme unction--of the benediction of church ornaments. 1. we read that the lord commanded moses [footnote 489] to make a chrism, with which unguent to anoint the tabernacle at the time of the dedication, and the ark of the testimony, and the table, together with the vessels; and with which also the priests and kings should be anointed. yet moses himself is not said to have been anointed, except with a spiritual unction, as also was christ. [footnote 489: exodus xxx, 22.] 2. christ hath willed that we should be anointed with a material unction in order that we may by it obtain the spiritual unction: and on this account our loving mother, the church, provideth different sorts of unction. upon which let us here touch lightly, saying- i. what unctions of this sort signify. ii. of what they be made. iii. of the unction before baptism. iv. of the unction after baptism, which is performed by the bishop on the forehead. v. of the unction in ordination. {134} vi. of the unction in consecrating bishops and princes. vii. of the unction of a church, altar, chalice, and other ecclesiastical instruments. viii. of extreme unction. ix. of the consecration and benediction of a cemetery, vestments, and other ecclesiastical ornaments. x. of the consecration and benediction of virgins. 3. firstly; with respect to the first, then, it is to be noted that there be two kinds of unction: an _external_, which is material or corporeal, and visible; and an _internal_, which is spiritual and invisible. the body is anointed visibly with the external unction; the heart invisibly by the internal. of the first, the apostle s. james saith, 'is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the lord; and the prayer of faith shall save the sick.' [footnote 490] of the second the apostle s. john saith, 'but the anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you: but the same anointing teacheth you of all things.' [footnote 491] the external unction is a sign of the internal. but the internal is not only a sign, that is a thing signified, but a sacrament also; because if it be worthily received, it either effecteth, or without doubt increaseth, that which it doth signify--for instance, healing: according to the saying, 'they shall lay their hands upon the sick, and they shall be healed.' [footnote 492] [footnote 490: s. james v, 14.] [footnote 491: i s. john ii, 27.] [footnote 492: see acts xxviii, 8.] secondly; with respect to the second point, you must know that in making use of the external and visible unction, two sorts of oil are consecrated: namely, holy oil, or the oil of the catechumens, with which catechumens are anointed; and the oil of the sick, with which the sick are anointed. of which kind of unction the authority of s. james quoted above doth speak, 'is any sick among you,' etc. {135} but in what way the benediction of these two sorts of oil and of chrism is performed will be declared in the sixth book in the chapter upon the fifth day of the holy week. [footnote 493] [footnote 493: it has not been thought necessary to translate the passages referred to.] 4. but is it asked why the sick and the catechumens are anointed with oil? i answer, in order that the invisible benefits may be more easily received through the visible signs: for as oil by expelling weakness refresheth the wearied limbs, and as it from its own natural qualities affordeth light, so it is to be believed that unction with consecrated oil, the which is a type of faith expelling sin, doth impart health to the soul and doth afford it light. herein the visible oil is in the outward sign, the invisible oil in the inward sacrament; and the spiritual oil is within. for the oil of the sick we have received authority from the apostles; for the oil of the catechumens from apostolical men. 5. and although god can grant the spiritual oil without the material, yet because the apostles have used this rite in the case of the sick, and apostolical men in the case of catechumens, this practice which their authority hath consecrated cannot be omitted without sin (as hath been said in the chapter upon the altar): just as anciently the just pleased god without circumcision; but after it had been enjoined them to be circumcised, such as omitted this rite were subjected to sin. thirdly; we have to speak of the unction before baptism. and indeed in the new testament not only kings and priests be anointed, as hath been already said, but also--(because christ by his blood hath made us kings and priests, that is, royal priests, unto our god, as the {136} apostle s. peter saith, [footnote 494] 'ye are a chosen generation,' that is, chosen out from the tribes of men, 'a royal priesthood,' that is, governing yourselves well)--also, i say, all christians be anointed twice before their baptism with consecrated oil--first, on the breast: secondly, between the shoulders: and twice after their baptism, with holy chrism--first, on the crown of the head; and secondly, by the bishop on the forehead. [footnote 494: i s. peter ii, 9.] 6. and, according to augustine, the first three unctions have been introduced rather by use than by any written authority. the candidate for baptism is anointed with oil--first, on the breast, in which is the locality of the heart; first, in order that by the gift of the holy ghost he may cast away error and ignorance and embrace a right faith; because 'the just liveth by faith,' [footnote 495] and 'with the heart we believe unto justification.' [footnote 496] but he is anointed between the shoulders, in order that he may, by the grace of the holy ghost, shake off indifference and sloth, and practise good works (because 'faith without works is dead'),' [footnote 497] so that by means of sacraments of faith there may result a purity of thoughts. on the breast, again, that by the practising of good works there may arise a boldness of labour: between the shoulders, to the end that 'faith (according to the apostle) may work by love.' [footnote 498] the oil therefore is carried over from the heart to the shoulders, since faith, which is conceived in the mind, is perfected in works (because, that is, faith consisteth in making our _deeds_ like our _words_). [footnote 499] but the person after baptism is anointed by the priest on the head with chrism, that 'he may be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh him a reason for the faith that is in him,' [footnote 500] because by {137} the head is understood the mind: as it is written, 'the eyes,' that is the understanding, 'of the wise are in his head,' [footnote 501] that is, his mind; of which mind, the superior part is reason and the inferior sensuality. hence, by the crown, which is the upper part of the head, is well represented reason, which is the superior part of the mind. of this we shall speak in the sixth book also, under the head of easter eve, in which confirmation is treated of. [footnote 502] but this is the reason that before baptism one is anointed with consecrated oil, and after baptism with holy chrism; because chrism is competent to a christian alone. [footnote 495: habakkuk ii, 4.] [footnote 496: romans x, 10.] [footnote 497: s. james ii, 26.] [footnote 498: gal. v, 6.] [footnote 499: this clause does not occur in the _princeps_ edition.] [footnote 500: s. peter iii, 15.] [footnote 501: ecclesiasticus ii, 14.] [footnote 502: the passage referred to speaks of the diverse graces conferred by the several unctions, and does not illustrate our more particular object.] 7. for christ is so named from _chrism_, or rather _chrism_ is so called from christ, not according to the form of the name only, but according to the rational order of faith. for _christians_ are called from christ, as _the anointed_ would be derived from the anointed one, namely, christ; so that all may unite in the odour of that unguent, namely, christ, whose name is as oil poured out: but according to the power of the word, _christians_ are called so from _chrism_, according to isidorus. [footnote 503] this subject is treated in the introduction to the second book. [footnote 504] [footnote 503: 'for christ is named of _chrism_, and meaneth the anointed one. for it was commanded the jews to make a holy unguent for such as were called unto the priesthood or the kingdom: and as now the vestment of purple is unto kings the mark of kingly power, so upon these did the unction with sacred unguent bestow the name and kingly power: and hence were they called _christi_, from _chrism_, which is unction. for _chrisma_ in greek is _unctio_ in latin. and this unction did aptly give this name unto our lord, because he was anointed of the father by the spirit, as is said in the acts of the apostles, "against thy holy child jesus, whom thou hast anointed, were they gathered together": not, that is, with visible oil, but with the gift of grace, which is denoted by the visible oil.' s. isidore of seville, _orig_. vii, 2. see also _orig_. vii, 4, and _de off. ecc._ i, 1.] [footnote 504: 'christians be named from christ, and christ from _chrism_, being _anointed_. for he was anointed by god from the beginning "with the oil of gladness above his fellows." in the old testament priests and kings be called _christs_ (or anointed), because they were anointed with a temporal unction. as it is written, "touch not my christs" (_i.e._ mine anointed). wherefore, christ is not a peculiar name of our saviour, but is a common appellation of dignity. but the name jesus is peculiar to the person of our saviour alone, and was given him, as the evangelist doth testify by the angel, gabriel, at the conception, and by men at his circumcision.'--durand. _loco cit._ this will explain the reason, to many persons so puzzling, why it is only to the name of jesus that our church, after the apostle, commands due obeisance to be made: and will reprove the erroneous, though pious, zeal which makes so many of the poor even now bow at the other names of our blessed lord.] {138} 8. again, according to augustine, the first unction with oil showeth us to be prepared fully to hear the faith, and called to the sweet odour of christ, and warned to renounce the devil. the second unction, according to rabanus, is upon the breast and between the shoulders, that we may be fortified on both sides by faith, and confirmed by the grace of god for the performance of good works. for by the breast is rightly understood the virtue of faith: but by the shoulders--upon which any burden is borne--the strength and working of a man: according to that saying, 'they bind heavy burdens and lay them on the shoulders of men,' etc. [footnote 505] a man is anointed therefore on the breast and between the shoulders, that both in thought and deed he may relinquish the works of the devil, and become capable of understanding the word of god, and strong enough to bear its yoke and the burden of the law. [footnote 505: s. matthew xxiii, 4.] 9. but the unction upon the crown, that is the top part of the head over the brain, is performed according to the same authority in order that he who is so anointed may become a partaker of the heavenly kingdom: and because the soul of the baptised person is espoused unto the head, that is christ, therefore this unction is made with chrism, compounded of oil and balsam, in order that we may know that the holy ghost, who worketh invisibly, is given unto him: for oil, as we said above, cherisheth the wearied limbs and affordeth light. {139} but balsam giveth it a sweet odour. if so be the limbs of the soul be wearied, when it repenteth of having acted in opposition to god, the holy ghost cometh to it, giving light to its understanding and showing it that its sins are, or may be, forgiven, and bestowing on it good works which breathe out a sweet odour amongst others: all which is denoted by the fragrant balsam. also because the seat of high-mindedness, which according to the name is always seeking higher things, appears to exist in the head, therefore the unction on this part is rightly performed in the form of the cross and in token of humility. 10. pope sylvester appointed that this unction might be administered by priests upon occasion of death: whence it is likely that before his time [footnote 506] the anointing both of the crown of the head and of the forehead was reserved for the bishop. for when the bosom of the church was extended, and bishops could no longer be at hand for each individual in confirmation, he then ordered, lest any should perish without the unction of chrism, that all should be anointed on the crown of the head over the brain, which is the seat of wisdom, at the hands of a priest, for the increasing of strength and grace. whence if afterwards they should have died, saith richard (of cremona), they shall receive an increase of grace and glory. [footnote 506: s. sylvester was the contemporary of constantine. _circa_ a.d. 325.] 11. yet nevertheless we believe that a man may be saved by baptism alone even without the unction, and that the holy ghost is given without the laying on of hands to such as god may will, as we read in the acts of the apostles. {140} 12. yet the faithless heretics, the arnaldistae, [footnote 507] assert that men never receive the holy ghost through the baptism of water; and that samaritans who were baptised did not receive him until they received the laying on of hands. both these unctions are administered, according to rabanus, in the form of the cross, that the devil, whose vessel the person is, recognising the sign of his own discomfiture, the sign of the holy cross, may know that from that moment the vessel is another's, being alienated from him. [footnote 507: our author mentions another heresy of the arnaldistae in the 19th section of the proem of book iv. these heretics were the followers of arnaldus de brixio (of bresse), a disciple of abelard. his opinions were condemned in the second general lateran council, 1139.--_baron. sub. anno._ tom. xviii. see also s. bernard, _epist_. 195.] 13. according to the same writer the unction on the breast is afterwards administered with invocation of the trinity, in order that no remains of the hidden enemy may abide therein, but the mind be comforted in the faith of the holy trinity, and receive and understand the commandments of god. therefore each of the faithful is anointed first twice with oil, next in like manner twice with chrism. first in baptism on the crown of the head: secondly after baptism, namely at confirmation, on his forehead: because to the apostles also was the holy ghost twice given, as will be set forth in the sixth book on holy saturday. [footnote 508] [footnote 508: it has not been judged necessary to translate the passages referred to, for the same reason as stated above in note 13.] fourthly; in the fourth place we were to speak of the unction which is administered by the bishop on the forehead of such as have been baptised: but of this we shall speak in the same place. [footnote 509] [footnote 509: it has not been judged necessary to translate the passages referred to, for the same reason as stated above in note 13.] 14. fifthly; in the fifth place, with respect to the unction of ordination, it is to be noted that the hands of the priest are anointed by the bishop, that he may know that he in this sacrament doth receive by the holy ghost the power and grace of consecrating. whence the bishop, whilst anointing them, saith: 'deign, o lord, by means of this unction and our benediction to consecrate and sanctify these hands, that whatsoever they consecrate may be consecrated, and whatsoever they bless may be blessed in the name of the lord.' {141} and for this cause devout men kiss the hands of priests immediately after their ordination, believing by this to become partakers of their prayers and blessings. and the anointing is with holy oil, because they ought to work with their hands the works of mercy with all their might towards all men: for the works are denoted by the hands; mercy by the oil. whence the good samaritan coming near to the wounded man poured wine and oil into his wounds. the hands are anointed with oil also that they may be supple for offering the host unto god for the sins of men, and that they may be open to all acts of piety and not be kept dry and clenched. for both these things, namely the grace of healing and the charity of loving, are denoted by the oil. wherefore further the laying on of hands, together with oil upon the heads of such as be ordained, is done because by the hands the operation, by the fingers the gifts, of the holy ghost, and by the head the mind, be understood. the hand then is laid on because it is sent forth imbued with the gifts of the holy ghost to perform the works of christ. 15. sixthly, with respect to the unction of bishops and of temporal princes, it is to be known that the former hath derived its origin from the old testament. for in the 21st chapter of leviticus the high priest is said to be he 'upon whose head the anointing oil is poured,' [footnote 510] and whose hands were consecrated in priesthood. a bishop, however, is anointed with chrism, which (as we said before) is composed of oil and balsam; and he is anointed therewith both outwardly, and inwardly in his heart, in order that by the inward oil he have a clear conscience towards god, and by the outward oil may have the odour of good report towards his neighbour: which is {142} denoted by the balsam. the apostle saith of a clear conscience, 'for our rejoicing is this the testimony of our conscience.' [footnote 511] 'for the king's daughter is all glorious within,' [footnote 512] that is, her glory proceedeth from within. concerning the odour of a good report the same apostle saith, 'for in every place we are unto god a sweet savour of christ,' that is, an example and imitation, and, 'to some we are the savour of life unto life,' etc., [footnote 513] as if he had said, we are an example of love and a good opinion leading unto eternal life, 'and to others a savour of death unto death,' that is, of hatred and evil opinion leading unto eternal death. [footnote 510: leviticus xxi, 10.] [footnote 511: 2 corinthians i, 12.] [footnote 512: psalm xlv (_eructavit cor meum_), 14.] [footnote 513: 2 corinthians ii, 15.] 16. for a bishop ought to have in himself 'a good report' both of them which are within and 'them which are without'; [footnote 514] so that one curtain, that is, the faithful, may draw on the other curtain, that is, the unbeliever, namely, unto belief; [footnote 515] and 'he that heareth,' namely, by learning and believing, 'say, come,' [footnote 516] namely, by preaching and teaching. with this unguent be the head and hands of a bishop consecrated: for by the head is understood the mind, as the gospel saith, 'anoint,' [footnote 517] that is, humble, 'thy head, and wash thy face,' that is, thy conscience, namely, with tears: by the hands be denoted good works, as is said in the canticles, 'my hands,' that is, my good works, 'dropped with myrrh,' that is, gave to others a good example. [footnote 518] [footnote 514: i timothy iii, 7.] [footnote 515: there appears to be here some mystical reference to the coupling of the curtains of the tabernacle. see exod. xxvi.] [footnote 516: apocalypse xxii, 17.] [footnote 517: s. matthew vi, 17.] [footnote 518: canticles v, 5.] 17. the head, therefore, is anointed with the balsam of charity, (i) that the bishop may love god with his whole heart and with his whole mind and whole soul, and also, after the example of christ, 'love his neighbours as,' that is, as much as, 'himself.' for according to {143} gregory, oil on the head is charity in the soul, (ii) secondly, the head is anointed by reason of authority and dignity; since not only bishops but also kings are consecrated. (iii) thirdly, to show that a bishop representeth the person of christ, as being his vicar, of whom it is said by the prophet, 'it is like the precious ointment upon the head.' [footnote 519] for the head of man is christ, the head of christ is god: who saith of himself, 'the spirit of the lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor.' [footnote 520] for christ, our head, was anointed with the invisible oil he intercedeth for the church universal, a bishop for that church committed unto him. [footnote 519: psalm cxxxiii (_ecce quani bonum_), 2.] [footnote 520: isaiah lxi, 1.] 18. but his _hands_ also are anointed, on account of his mystery and office; and for the anointing of these, which do signify works, is employed _oil_, that is, the chrism of piety and mercy, (i) first, in order that the bishop may 'do good unto all men, and especially unto them that are of the household of faith,' [footnote 521] his hands should be closed to none, but be open to all; according to the saying, 'he hath opened his hands to the poor, and extended his arm to the destitute.' [footnote 522] a hand that is dried up, that is avaricious, that is tenaciously held clenched, cannot be opened: therefore his hands are anointed, in order that they may be healed and opened, and may bestow alms on the indigent. (ii) secondly, to show that he hath received the power of blessing and consecrating. whence the consecrating bishop, when he anointeth them, saith, 'deign, o lord, to consecrate and sanctify these hands,' and so forth, as we quoted above. (iii) that they may be clean for offering sacrifices for sins. and note, that although a bishop's hands were anointed with oil beforehand when he was ordained a priest, yet {144} they be again anointed with chrism when he is consecrated a bishop. herein by the hands are typified good works; by the oil, the abundance of the holy ghost of grace; by the balsam, which is mixed with the oil in making the chrism, the savour of good report; as in ecclesiasticus, 'my sweet odour is as myrrh unmixed.' [footnote 523] wherefore because in the works of bishops and other superiors there ought to appear more than in their inferiors the gifts of the holy ghost and the savour of good report; according to that saying, 'for we are unto god a sweet savour of christ'; [footnote 524] for even in the heavenly hierarchy the superior angels excel the inferior in blessings and grace; hence, therefore, at their consecration as bishops their hands, already anointed with oil, are with reason again anointed with chrism. [footnote 521: galatians vi, 10.] [footnote 522: proverbs xxxi, 20.] [footnote 523: ecclesiasticus xxiv, 15.] [footnote 524: 2 corinthians ii, 15.] 19. the thumb also is fortified with chrism, that the laying on of the thumb may profit all men for salvation. 20. further, in the old testament, not only was a priest anointed, but also a king and prophet: as we find in the books of kings. whence the lord enjoined elias, 'go return on thy way to the wilderness of damascus: and when thou comest, anoint hazael to be king over syria; and jehu the son of nimshi shalt thou anoint to be king over israel; and elisha the son of shaphat of abel-meholah shalt thou anoint to be prophet in thy room.' [footnote 525] samuel also anointed david to be king. but after that jesus of nazareth, 'whom (as we read in the acts of the apostles) god anointed with the holy ghost, was anointed with oil above his fellows, [footnote 526] who is (according to the apostle) 'the head of the church, which is also his body'; [footnote 527] after this the anointing of a sovereign was transferred from the head to the arm: whence princes since the time of christ are not {145} anointed on the head but on the arm, or on the shoulder; by which parts of the body kingly power is aptly represented, as we read, 'and the government was laid upon his shoulder': [footnote 528 ] to signify the same, samuel caused the shoulder to be laid before saul, when he placed him at the head of the table before those who had been bidden. [footnote 529] but in the case of a bishop the sacramental anointing is applied to the _head_, because in his episcopal office he representeth the head of the church, that is, christ. [footnote 525: i kings xix, 15.] [footnote 526: see acts iv, 27, and hebrews i, 9.] [footnote 527: ephesians v, 23.] [footnote 528: isaiah ix, 6.] [footnote 529: i samuel x, 24.] 21. there is this difference, then, between the anointing of a bishop and a prince, that the head of the bishop is consecrated with chrism, while the arm of the prince is anointed with oil: to show, namely, how great a difference there is between the authority of a bishop and the power of a prince. and observe that, as we read in the gospel, [footnote 530] a certain man called his servants and gave unto them ten talents. herein the calling of a servant is the canonical election of a bishop, which taketh place according to the calling of the lord who called aaron. a talent is given to him, when he who hath laid his hands upon him giveth him the text of the gospel, saying, 'go and preach.' and the bishop himself, according to the use of some churches, when first he entereth his see, carrieth the gospels in his bosom, showing his talent as if to trade with it. in some churches also when the archbishop giveth the bishop his pastoral staff, he saith, 'go and preach,' and he immediately blesseth the people: by which is represented that moses was sent into egypt with a rod. [footnote 530: s. matthew xxv.] {146} 22. furthermore, bishops on the day of their consecration have been wont to ride on horses covered with white robes; to represent that which we read in the apocalypse, 'the armies which are in heaven follow him riding on white horses.' [footnote 531] the armies which are in heaven are good and just men and prelates, who as these heavenly riders do daily follow god in all good works: who for this reason are said to be in heaven, because they love and seek after heavenly things alone; whence the apostle saith, 'our conversation is in heaven.' [footnote 532] these armies, that is good and just men and prelates, follow jesus, whensoever they vanquish vices in themselves by discipline, in their neighbours by admonition. whence s. james saith, 'he which converteth the sinner from the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall hide a multitude of sins.' [footnote 533] these armies have white horses and chaste bodies. [footnote 531: apocalypse xix, 14.] [footnote 532: philippians iii, 20.] [footnote 533: s. james v, 20.] 23. the bodies of good men are also called horses, because, just as horses are governed by the will of the rider, so are the bodies of the just ruled according to the will of christ. these horses ought to be white, or covered with white trappings: that is, the bodies of just men and prelates ought to be chaste and pure. for if they be not pure they cannot follow christ. and s. peter saith, 'christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example that we should follow his steps, who did not sin, neither was guile found in his mouth.' [footnote 534] further, the clergy of the holy roman church, by the grant of the emperor constantine, do ride upon horses adorned with trappings of the most snowy white. on what day a bishop ought to be consecrated, and why a copy of the gospels is put upon his shoulders in consecration, shall be declared in the second book, under the chapter upon bishops. [footnote 535] [footnote 534: i s. peter ii, 21.] [footnote 535: the consecration of a bishop, in the which the holy ghost is present unto such as receive it worthily, is administered always on the lord's day, and at the third hour. for bishops do obtain the office of apostles, unto whom the holy ghost was given on the day of pentecost and at the third hour. when a bishop is to be ordained, the suffragans of the province should assemble with their metropolitan, and two bishops place and hold a volume of the gospels above his head and neck, or upon his shoulders, one shedding the benediction over him, and the rest, such as are present, touching his head with their hands. this book is held above his head; first, that the lord may confirm the gospel in his heart; secondly, that he may understand by this, unto what burthen and labour he is subjected: because everyone that is pre-eminent, that is, a prelate, is more troubled with griefs than rejoiced with honours; thirdly, to denote that he ought not to be backward to carry with him everywhere the burthen of the preaching of the gospel; fourthly, to admonish him to submit himself more than ever to the yoke, and to obey the gospel.--_rationale_, book ii, c. xi, 6.] {147} seventhly, we have to speak of the unction of altars, chalices, and other instruments of the church; which according to the rule are anointed at their dedication; and this not only from the command of the divine law, but also because moses 'sprinkled with blood the tabernacle and all the vessels of the ministry, and almost all things are by the law cleansed with blood;' [footnote 536] and also again after the example of s. sylvester, who when he consecrated an altar used to anoint it with chrism. for the lord commanded moses to make oil of unction with which to anoint the tabernacle of the testimony, the table, the ark of the covenant, the candlestick, and other furniture as aforesaid. which unctions are performed on things that have not been anointed, to show greater reverence to them and to bestow more grace upon them. and of these unctions we have spoken and shall again speak in their right places. but the sacrament of unction hath indeed some further effect and meaning both in the old and new testament: whence the church doth not judaize, when she observeth the unctions in her sacraments, as some old writers, who know neither the scripture nor the power of god, do falsely say. of the unctions of the church and altar we have spoken under their own heads. [footnote 536: hebrews ix, 2.] {148} 24. further the paten is consecrated and anointed for the administration of the body of christ, who willed to be sacrificed upon the altar of the cross for the salvation of all men. 'almighty god also did order the flour to be brought to his altar scattered on golden and silver patens. the chalice also is consecrated and anointed, that by the grace of the holy ghost it may be made a new sepulchre of the body and blood of christ, and then he, himself, may deign to make it overflow with his virtue, as he made the cup of melchizedech, his servant, to flow over. 25. eighthly; in the eighth place we have to speak of extreme unction, which from the institution of pope felix the fourth, and from the command of the apostle s. james, is administered unto such as are at the point to die. concerning which some say that it is not so properly a sacrament as the anointing of the forehead or any other part with chrism, because (as they assert) it may be repeated and since there is offered a prayer over the man; a circumstance which is not a condition of a sacrament. this unction also may be administered by a single priest if more cannot be present: and by it venial sins are remitted, according to s. james, 'if any rich among you,' etc., as before, 'and if he have committed sins they shall be forgiven him.' [footnote 537] and this unction is applied to divers parts of the body or the limbs, for reasons which may be gathered from the prayers then used; and especially on those parts in which the five senses chiefly reside, that whatever sins the rich man may have committed by means of these may be abolished by virtue of this unction. concerning some other rules we ordinarily read, that the party to be anointed must be at the least eighteen years of age, and that he ought to be anointed in sickness once only during a year, though he may be sick many times, and that no one must be anointed, unless, being in his senses, he shall have first demanded it either by words or signs:-{149} and besides this, that the shoulders ought not to be anointed, because they were anointed in baptism, and that a confirmed person ought not to be anointed on his forehead but on his temples, and a priest's hands ought to be anointed on the backs and not inside, because they were anointed on the inside at his ordination:--and that one who hath been once anointed by a bishop ought not in respect to him to be further anointed by a priest:--and that if a sick man who hath been anointed should recover, the anointed places should be washed, and the water used be thrown into the fire; but should he depart, his body ought not to be washed because of the recent unction. but if the sick man be at the point of death, he should be immediately anointed lest he die without the unction. besides this, some penitents, and dying men, put on sackcloth and lay themselves down on ashes as we shall explain in the sixth book, when we speak of ash wednesday. [footnote 538] [footnote 537: s. james v, 24.] [footnote 538: 'on this day also ashes are blessed, and scattered over the head in token of humiliation. "dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return," was said unto adam (gen. iv). and job "repented in dust and ashes" (job xlii, 6). and the lord saith, "in the house of aphrah (marg. read dust) roll thyself in the dust" (mic. i 10). also in judith we read, "the children of israel humbled themselves in fasting, and dust on their heads" (chronicles iv). and abraham saith, "shall i speak unto the lord, who am but dust and ashes?" (gen. 18). and "mordecai put on sackcloth with ashes" (esther iv, i). and "the daughters of zion have cast ashes on their heads" (samuel iii). hence, we read in the pontifical, penitents and the dying, in token of repentance and humility and that they are dust and ashes, do prostrate themselves in ashes and put on sackcloth--an use drawn from the old testament. for we read in isaiah the fifty-eighth, that penitents do lie in sackcloth and ashes. and hieremiah saith the same in the twenty-fifth chapter, "wallow yourselves in the ashes, for the days are accomplished." also in the third of jonah, "the king of ninevah put on sackcloth and sat in ashes." also in the lamentations, "the virgins of jerusalem are clothed in sackcloth."'--_rationale_ vi, 28, 18.] {150} 26. ninthly, a cemetery, which enjoyeth the same privileges as a church, is also consecrated and blessed; just as the lord blessed by the hands of his servants abraham, isaac, and jacob, the land bought for a burial ground from the sons of ephron. it is blessed also in order that it may cease from that time forward to be the abode of unclean spirits, and that the bodies of the faithful may therein rest in peace until the day of judgment; unless the bodies of paynims or infidels, or even of excommunicate persons should be buried there, until they shall be cast out thence. 27. this also is to be noted, that the palls of the altar, the priestly vestments, and ecclesiastical ornaments of this kind are to be blessed. for we have already read that moses, by command of the lord, consecrated the tabernacle with divine prayers, together with the table and altar, and vessels and utensils for performing the divine worship. if therefore the jews, who served the 'shadow of the law and of good things to come,' [footnote 539] did this, how much the more ought we to do it to whom the truth hath been made known by christ! whence we read in the last chapter but one of exodus, 'moses blessed all the vessels of the ministry.' [footnote 540] and should an additional piece or a fringe be attached to it, it is proved by the testimony of right that the blessing need not on this account be repeated. but the reason why these things and other like things are consecrated is evidently gathered from the forms of blessing them. of the sacred vestments we shall speak in the introduction to the third book. [footnote 541] and observe: that the blessing or consecration of a church, and of vestments, and of ecclesiastical ornaments is not performed as if they were capable of receiving grace, for they are inanimate: but this practice is introduced, because as men are, so also are these things, by the act of blessing and consecration rendered suitable and fit for divine worship, and are {151} made of greater holiness. whereas on _persons_ greater grace is bestowed by unction and benediction. but some in the benediction of ornaments, let fall their hands, of which we shall speak in the second book under the head of the deacon. [footnote 542] [footnote 539: hebrews x, 1.] [footnote 540: exodus xxxix.] [footnote 541: the history, use, and symbolism of the sacred vestments would themselves require a volume to be fully illustrated.] [footnote 542: observe that when a person in confirmation is blessed on the forehead, and when salt, and water, and palls, and vestments, and the like be consecrated, the hands are held over them, because there is a certain virtue in consecrated hands, which is as it were stirred up when benediction is poured out over anything with the hands suspended in this way. whence the apostle admonishing his disciple timothy, saith, "i put thee in remembrance that thou stir up the gift of god, which is in thee, by the laying on of my hands." so that devotion may be stirred up in the body by the suspension of hands, just as in the heart by the effect. for virtue existeth not only in animate things, but also in inanimate. whence some do affirm that by the virtue of a church, if anyone entereth therein from devotion, his venial sins be forgiven. again, the hands are thus held in cases of exorcism especially, as if the priest by the bodily act would put to flight and threaten the devil by the virtue of the consecration of his hands.'--durandus ii, 9, 16.] tenthly, we were to speak of the consecration of virgins, but of this we shall treat in the preface to the second book. [footnote 543] [footnote 543: this point is not sufficiently connected with our subject to need illustration.] {152} chapter ix of the sacraments of the church difference between a sacrament and a mystery--distinction of sacraments --of matrimony--of the ring--of second marriages--why sacraments were instituted. 1. with respect to the sacraments of the church, it is to be noted that, according to gregory, there is a _sacrament_ in any celebration when an outward act is so performed as that we receive inwardly some degree of the thing signified; the which is to be received holily and worthily. also a _mystery_ is that which the holy ghost worketh secretly, and invisibly, so as to sanctify by his operation, and bless by his sanctification. a mystery is said to exist in sacraments; a ministry only in ornaments. 2. but, according to augustine, a sacrament is a visible sign of an invisible grace. again, a sacrifice is visible; a sacrament invisible. again, the same sign is a thing which bringeth under cognisance some thing different from itself over and above the outward appearance which it presenteth to the senses. 3. a sacrament is said also to be a sign of a sacred thing, or a sacred concealment of a thing. of this we shall further speak in the fourth book, under the seventh part of the canon of the mass, upon the word 'the mystery of faith,' and under the head of the oblation. [footnote 544] [footnote 544: the seventh part of the canon of the mass is, 'likewise after supper he took the cup into his holy and venerated hands; and when he had given thanks, he blessed it and gave it to his disciples, saying, take and drink ye all of this; for this is the chalice of my blood, of the new and everlasting testament, the _mystery of faith_, which is shed for you and for many for the remission of sins: do this as oft as ye shall drink it in remembrance of me.'--see _rationale_ iv. 42, 20.] {153} 4. some of the sacraments be of necessity only; some of dignity and necessity; some of order and necessity; some of dignity and choice; and some of choice only. the sacrament of necessity only is baptism, which when administered by anyone, so it be in the form of the church, in the greatest extremity profiteth unto salvation. and it is said to be 'of necessity,' because without it no one can be saved, if it be neglected through contempt. of this sacrament we shall speak in the sixth book, under the head of holy saturday. [footnote 545] the sacrament of dignity and necessity is confirmation: of dignity, because it is conferred by the bishop alone; of necessity, because he who neglecteth it through contempt of it, cannot be saved. of this also we shall speak under the head just specified. [footnote 545: the chapter referred to treats of holy baptism doctrinally, and does not therefore fall within the province of this volume.] 5. the sacraments of order and dignity are penance, the eucharist, and extreme unction. of order; because they ought only to be administered by such as are rightly ordained according to the church's power of the keys; except in necessity, in which one may _confess_ even unto a layman: of necessity; since such as neglect them through contempt of them cannot be saved. about penance, see the sixth book, upon the fifth day of holy week, the _caena domini_: [footnote 546] about the eucharist, we shall speak in the fourth book, upon the canon; [footnote 547] about extreme unction we have spoken in the preceding chapter. [footnote 546: what we call _maunday thursday_, from _mandatum novum_ ('a new commandment i give unto you,' etc.), which the church of england retains as a lesson for the day, is more properly called _the caena domini_, or _lord's supper_, in remembrance (as bishop andrewes says) _of the mighty mystery of thy holy body and precious blood, instituted on the evening of this day_.--see s. isidore, _de offic. eccles._ i, 28. the chapter referred to (73 of the sixth book), shows that penitents were restored to communion on this day, and with what ceremonies.] [footnote 547: these, besides their great length, are not required for the explication of our more immediate subject.] {154} 6. but the sacrament of dignity and choice is orders: of dignity; because conferred by bishops alone, and because no one is admitted thereunto save a worthy person and in a worthy way: of choice; because anyone may be saved without it. of this we shall speak in the preface to the second book. [footnote 548] [footnote 548: these, besides their great length, are not required for the explication of our more immediate subject.] 7. the sacrament of choice only is matrimony; and it is said to be of choice, because anyone may be saved without it. indeed a man seeking to marry is not inclined to tend towards the kingdom of heaven. with respect to this it is to be remarked that, according to the canons, the solemnity of marriage ought not to be celebrated from septuagesima sunday, because it is a season of sorrow, until the octave of easter, nor in the three weeks before the feast of s. john. [footnote 549] but according to the custom of the catholic church, marriages may be solemnised in the church from the morrow of low sunday, namely, from the octave of easter, until the first rogation day. and from the morning of the first rogation day this rite is prohibited until the octave of whitsuntide inclusively: and so saith pope clement in his decretal. again, marriages ought not to be celebrated {155} from the first sunday in advent until the epiphany: nor would they have been allowed until the octave of the epiphany had not the lord honoured a marriage with his presence, and even with a miracle. [footnote 550] whence they then chant, 'to-day the church is united to her heavenly spouse.' some, however, say that it is more holy to extend this prohibition unto the octave of the epiphany. [footnote 549: bp. cosins says that marriages are not to be solemnised from advent sunday, until eight days after (or the octave of) the epiphany; from septuagesima sunday until eight days after easter; and from rogation sunday until trinity sunday. some of these being times of solemn fasting and abstinence, some of holy festivity and joy, both fit to be spent in such holy exercises, without other avocations. see his 'devotions,' republished by messrs rivington.] [footnote 550: we are accustomed to celebrate only the manifestation of christ to the gentiles, on the epiphany. but s. isidore (_de off. ecc._ i, 26) gives two other objects of commemoration upon this day: viz. the baptism of our lord, and his first miracle at the marriage in cana. and so the hymn in the breviary: ibant magi, quam viderant, lumen requirunt lumine, lavacra puri gurgitis peccata quae non detulit, novum genus potentiae! vinumque jussa fundere stellam sequentes praeviam; deum fatentur munere. caelestis agnus attigit; nos abluendo sustulit. aquae rubescunt hydriae, nutavit unda originem. our own church, however, retains the old gospel for the second sunday after the epiphany.] in the aforesaid times, therefore, marriages are not to be contracted; because these seasons are set apart for prayer. 8. [footnote 551] but although the solemnising of marriages is prohibited in these intervals, yet a contract of marriage holds good at whatever time it may have been duly made. but in that it is ordered by the canons that weddings should not be celebrated in the three weeks before the festival of s. john baptist, the rule was made that men might be more at leisure for prayer. for the church had formerly appointed two periods of forty days, besides the great one of lent:--the one preceding the nativity, usually called s. martin's, and lasting from his day to the nativity; [footnote 552] the other, forty days before the feast of s. john baptist:--in which men should give especial heed unto prayers, alms, and fastings. but in regard of the frailty of man, these two seasons have been reduced to one, and that one again divided into the three weeks of advent, and three before the nativity of s. john: at which times men ought to fast and abstain from marriage. [footnote 551: a few passages have been omitted in the course of this chapter.] [footnote 552: martinmas is the 11th november. the forty days are not exactly made out between this and the nativity. ] {156} 9. according to s. isidore (of seville), women wear veils, when they are married, so that they may know that they must always be subject to their husbands: and because rebecca, when she saw isaac, veiled herself. the same saith also that married persons after the benediction are coupled by a fillet, to show that they must not break the tie, that is the fidelity, of conjugal unity. and the same fillet is both white and purple mixed; because the white signifieth purity of life, and purple their lawful raising of offspring: so that by this symbol, their continuance and mutual 'defrauding one another for a time is signified, as well as their coming together again' [footnote 553] and return afterwards to conjugal duties. [footnote 553: see s. paul i corinthians vii, 5. the whole of this passage is quoted from s. isidore, who is, however, more circumstantial than durandus, and much more elegant and intelligible in his language. the extreme corruption of the printed copies of our author may be exemplified by referring the reader to the original in s. isidore.--_de off. eccles._ ii, 19. see also hugo de s. victore, _exercit. theol. summ. sent._, tract vii.] 10. also in that at the beginning of the ceremony the husband giveth a ring to the bride, this is done as a sign of mutual love, or rather in order that their hearts may be united by the same pledge. and the same ring is put on the fourth finger, because (as some say) a certain vein runneth through it which reacheth to the heart. also one protheus is said to have first made a ring of iron as a pledge of love, and to have enclosed an adamant therein: and from this he founded the custom of betrothing brides, because as iron subdueth all things, so doth love conquer all things, since nothing is more violent than its ardour. {157} 11. and as an adamant cannot be broken, so love cannot be overcome: for love is as strong as death. therefore also he founded the custom of putting the ring on the ring-finger through which a vein passeth to the heart. afterwards, however, golden rings were substituted for iron, and were set with gems, instead of adamant, because as gold excelleth other metals, so doth love excel all other blessings. and as gold is set off by the gems, so is conjugal love by other virtues. but the word _nuptials_ (marriage) is so called according to ambrose, a _nubendo_ (from covering the head). for brides are wont to veil the head and abstain from speaking. whence also rebecca, when she saw isaac to whom she was about to be espoused, began to veil her face. for bashfulness ought to precede marriage, inasmuch as bashfulness more highly commendeth wedlock itself: and the bride should appear rather to be sought by the husband, than herself to have sought after him. . . . 12. we have further to note that a threefold spiritual sacrament is signified by the consummation of marriage. the first sacrament is the spiritual union of the soul to god, through faith, love, and charity; or the union of will, namely charity which consisteth in the spirit, between god and a just soul. whence saith the apostle, 'but he that is joined unto the lord is one spirit.' [footnote 554] this sacrament is signified by the union of soul which takes place at the first betrothal in carnal matrimony. the second is the union of the human nature with the divine, which took place in the incarnation of the word of god; or the conformity of nature, which existeth in the flesh, between christ and his holy church. to which that saying referreth, 'the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.' [footnote 555] the third sacrament is the unity of the church, gathered out of all nations and subjected to one spouse, namely christ. this sacrament is typified in the case of such as, having had one wife and her a virgin, have afterwards been admitted into holy orders. [footnote 554: i corinthians vi, 17.] [footnote 555: s. john i, 14.] {158} 13. but when anyone yieldeth to a second marriage, he giveth up this unity, and the signification of this third sacrament does not hold in his case: wherefore marriage should not advance beyond _one_, because such advance cannot signify unity. besides, by a second marriage he departeth from the union of his former marriage: but the church ever since she hath united herself to christ, hath never departed from him, neither hath christ ever departed from her. wherefore one who hath twice married cannot signify such an unity. whence also deservedly from the defect of this sacramental signification marriage cannot be repeated. 14. note also this, that according to the statute of the council of carthage the bridegroom and bride are to be presented by the parents or bridesmen unto the priest in order to be blessed. and having received the blessing, out of reverence to it, they do not consummate the marriage till the next day. 15. again by the appointment of pope evaristus marriages are to be blessed by the priest not without prayers and offerings. however, a man and woman who contract a second marriage must not be blessed by the priest, since, they having been already blessed, the ceremony may not be repeated. nor ought marriages to be blessed unless both parties are still unmarried, for the reason given in the preface to the second book. [footnote 556] [footnote 556: it is laid down that a _widow_ on taking the vows is not veiled by the bishop, as is the case with a virgin. 'a priest,' durandus continues, 'is prohibited from taking a part in second marriages and from giving the benediction to such as are twice married. but a widow taking the vows is married as it were twice, first to her late husband, and secondly unto christ in her profession, wherefore the veil of consecration, or even of profession, is not given unto her, but she herself takes it from the altar. . . . yet in the pontifical, according to the roman order, we find the benediction of a widow professing continence, and also of her veil. for the lord also comforted the widow of serepta by the hand of elias the prophet. and i have myself seen in the city (rome, of course) the [cardinal] bishop of ostia bless two widows among the virgins who took the vows' (proem. ii, c. 47).] {159} and any priest who shall have given the blessing in such a second marriage is to be suspended from his office and benefice and to be sent to the apostolical see; a custom this, introduced as an incitement to continence. according to the custom of some places, if anyone contracts a second marriage with an unmarried woman the benediction is repeated: but this does not avail unless our lord the pope know of it and approve it. some also say that if any unmarried persons were not blessed when they contracted marriages, they may when marrying a second time receive the benediction; but if they were blessed at first, it cannot be repeated at a second marriage even though the first were never consummated. of the benediction of virgins we shall speak in the preface and the second book. [footnote 557] [footnote 557: see chap. viii, note 57.] 16. but it is to be noted that one sacrament may be more worthy than another in four ways: namely, in efficacy, as baptism; in sanctity, as the eucharist; in significancy, as marriage (though some do not admit this way); in the dignity of the administrator, as confirmation and orders. 17. but is it asked why sacraments are appointed, when without them god could have given eternal life and his grace unto mankind? i answer, for three reasons. first, for our humiliation; in order that when man reverently humbleth himself by the command of god unto insensible and inferior things, he may from this obedience become more acceptable unto him. secondly, for our instruction; that by that which is seen objectively in a visible form, our mind may be instructed in that invisible virtue, which is to be perceived within. {160} thirdly, for our exercising: in order that, since man ought not to be idle, there may be set before him a useful and healthy exercise in the sacraments; so that he may avoid vain and hurtful occupation. according to that saying, 'always be doing some good work, that the devil may find you occupied.' wherefore, as we said in the foregoing chapter, they must never be neglected. end of the first book {161} epilogue to the whole work [footnote 558] [footnote 558: job xxxviii, 31. see the proeme towards the beginning.] let none imagine that in the foregoing work the divine offices be sufficiently set forth, lest by extolling that which is human, he rashly depreciate that which is divine. for in the divine offices of the mass, so many and so great be the mysteries involved, that none, unless he be taught of the spirit, is sufficient to explain them. 'for who knoweth the ordinances of heaven, or can explain the reasons of them upon earth? [footnote 559] for he that prieth into their majesty is overwhelmed by their glory. but i, who cannot from the weakness of mine eyes behold the sun in his brightness, have looked on these mysteries, as through a glass, darkly: and, not penetrating into the interior of the palace, but sitting at the door, have done diligently, as i could, not sufficiently, as i would. for on account of the innumerable and inevitable business of the apostolic see, [footnote 560] pressing on me daily, like a flood, and holding down the mind of him that would diligently rise to a contemplation of heavenly things: i, perplexed as it were, and entangled in the knots of various employments, could not have the leisure that i wished for, and could scarcely either dictate what i had composed, or compose what i had conceived. {162} for the mind that is divided in several trains of thought hath less power in each. wherefore i not only ask pardon of the courteous reader, but implore the assistance of a friendly corrector. for i cannot deny that many things are inserted in this book which may be blamed, and that justly and without temerity. but if anything worthy be found in it, let the praise thereof be ascribed entirely to divine grace: for 'every good gift, and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the father of light.' [footnote 561] but let that which is unworthy, be set down to human insufficiency, 'for the corruptible body presseth down the soul, and the earthly tabernacle weigheth down the mind that museth upon many things.' [footnote 562] that which is worthy hath been taken from the sayings of others, whose words i have introduced, rather by way of recital [footnote 563] after than of approval. i have collected from diverse books, the manner of the honey making bee, not without profit, of those things which divine grace hath held forth to me: and this doctrine, flowing with sweetness like the honeycomb, i offer, trusting in god's help, to those who desire to meditate on the divine offices: expecting this reward alone of my great toil among men, that they will pray earnestly to the merciful judge for the pardon of my transgressions. gulielmi durandi, _epi mimatensis liber de ecclesiis et ornamentis ecclesiasticis explicit feliciter_. [footnote 559: see the preface.] [footnote 560: book viii, chap. 14.] [footnote 561: s. james i, 17.] [footnote 562: wisdom ix, 17.] [footnote 563: the passage seems corrupt: but the sense appears to be, 'reciting them, as testimonies in my favour, and not presuming to add my testimony to their worth.] {163} supplement [for the avoiding continual reference, for the extreme beauty of the treatise itself, for its value as an older document than the 'rationale,' and for the advantage of comparison with the latter in subject, sentiment, style, and often language, the editors have subjoined a translation of the first and second chapters of the 'mystical mirror of the church' of hugo de sancto victore.] (_folio edition_, 237 e) a prologue to the 'mystical mirror of the church,' made by master hugh of s. victor. your love hath asked of me to treat of the sacraments of the church, and to set forth unto you their mystical sweetness. but since with the more willingness, because with the more ease and boldness i do evolve (after my custom) points of logic rather than of theology; i began to doubt whether to withstand your admonition or the rather to write. but when i presently remembered how that every good thing when shared with others becometh more bright and beautiful when it is shared, i incontinently betook myself to my pen, having invoked the aid of 'him who openeth and no man shutteth, and shutteth and no man openeth.' [footnote 564] wherefore i have put into the lips of your understanding the tractate which you did desire, flowing within with nectar like the honeycomb: and the same, because therein ye may see as in a mirror what every thing in the church doth mystically denote, i have called 'the mystical mirror of a church.' [footnote 564: apocalypse iii, 7.] {164} chapter i of a church the material church in which the people cometh together to praise god, signifieth the holy catholic church, which is builded in the heavens of living stones. this is the lord's house which is firmly builded. the 'chief corner-stone is christ.' _upon_ this, not _besides_ this, is the 'foundation of the apostles and prophets'; as it is written, 'her foundations are upon the holy hills.' [footnote 565] the walls builded thereon, be the jews and gentiles coming from the four quarters of the world unto christ. all the stones be polished and squared; that is, all the saints be pure and firm: the which also be placed so as to last for ever by the hands of the chief workman. of these some be borne and do not bear, as the more simple folk in the church; some be borne and do also bear, as the middling sort; others do only bear, and be not borne, save by christ alone. who is the single cornerstone. and in this house by how much anyone doth differ from and excel others, by so much being the more humble doth he hold up more of the building. one charity doth join all together after the fashion of cement: and the living stones be bound together by the bond of peace. the towers be the preachers and the prelates of the church: who are her wards and defence. [footnote 565: psalm lxxx (_fundamenta ejus_), i.] {165} whence saith the bridegroom unto his spouse in the song of songs: 'thy neck is like the tower of david builded for an armoury.' [footnote 566] the cock which is placed thereon representeth preachers. for the cock in the deep watches of the night divideth the hours thereof with his song: he arouseth the sleepers; he foretelleth the approach of day; but first he stirreth up himself to crow by the striking of his wings. behold ye these things mystically: for not one is there without meaning. the sleepers be the children of this world, lying in sins. the cock is the company of preachers, which do preach sharply, do stir up the sleepers to cast away the works of darkness, crying, 'woe to the sleepers: awake thou that sleepest'; which also do foretell the coming of the light, when they preach of the day of judgment and future glory. but wisely before they preach unto others do they rouse themselves by virtues from the sleep of sin, and do chasten their bodies. whence saith the apostle, 'i keep under my body and bring it into subjection. [footnote 567] the same also do turn themselves to meet the wind when they bravely do contend against and resist the rebellious by admonition and argument, lest they should seem to flee when the wolf cometh. the iron rod upon which the cock sitteth, showeth the straightforward speech of the preacher; that he doth not speak from the spirit of man, but according to the scriptures of god: as it is said, 'if any man speak, let him speak as the oracles of god.' [footnote 568] in that this rod is placed above the cross, it is shown that the words of scripture be consummated and confirmed by the cross: whence our lord said in his passion, 'it is finished.' [footnote 569] and his title was indelibly written over him. [footnote 566: cant. iv, 4. ] [footnote 567: i corinthians ix, 27.] [footnote 568: i s. peter iv, 2.] [footnote 569: s. john xix.] {166} the ball (_tholus_) upon which the cross is placed doth signify perfection by its roundness: since the catholic faith is to be preached and held perfectly and inviolably: 'which faith, except a man do keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.' or else the ball doth signify the world redeemed by the price of the cross: on which account the cross is placed over it. the cock being set over the cross signifieth that the preacher ought to make sure this point, that christ redeemed the world by his cross. the pinnacle and turret show the mind or life of a prelate who tendeth unto things above. the bells, by the voice of which the people are called together unto the church, typify also preachers: the which being necessary for many uses, are called by many names. the clapper, which causeth the sound from the two sides of the bell, is the tongue of the preacher which causeth both testaments to resound. the wooden frame, whence the bell hangeth, signifieth the cross; the cramps, charity; by which charity the preacher, being fast bound to the cross, boasteth, saying, 'god forbid that i should glory save in the cross of our lord jesus christ' [footnote 570] the rope is the life and humility of the preacher. whence the apostle saith, 'he condescendeth towards others. whether we exalt ourselves it is for god; whether we abase ourselves it is for you.' [footnote 571] the rings on the rope are perseverance and the crown of reward. the glazed windows of the church be the holy scriptures, which do ward off the wind and the rain, that is, do repel all hurtful things; and when they do transmit the brightness of the true sun by day into the church, they do give light to them that be therein. these be wider within than without, because the sense mystical is more ample and more pre-eminent than the sense literal. these be frequented of preachers, 'who do fly as a cloud and as the doves to the windows.' [footnote 572] [footnote 570: galatians vi, 14.] [footnote 571: 2 corinthians v, 13. vulgate.] [footnote 572: isaiah lx, 8.] {167} also by the windows the five senses of the body be signified: which ought to be narrow without, lest they should take in vanities, but should be wide within to receive spiritual good. the door is christ: whence the lord saith in the evangele, 'i am the door.' [footnote 573] the pillars be doctors; who do hold up spiritually the temple of god by their doctrine, as do the evangelists also the throne of god. these, for the harmony of divine eloquence, be called silver columns: according to that of the song of songs, 'he made the pillars thereof of silver.' [footnote 574] the stalls do denote the contemplative: in whom god doth rest without offence. these, for that they do contemplate the highest divinity and glory of the eternal life, be compared unto gold: whence in the aforesaid song of songs it is said, 'he made a golden bed.' [footnote 575] the beams be such as spiritually sustain the church: the ceilings such as adorn it and strengthen it; of the which (because they be not corrupted by vices) the bride glorieth in the same canticles, saying, 'the beams of our house are cedar and our rafters of fir.' [footnote 576] for god hath built his church of living stones and imperishable wood: according to that, 'solomon made himself a litter of the wood of lebanon; [footnote 577] that is christ of his saints made white by chastity. the chancel, when lower than the body of the church, showeth mystically how great humility ought to be in the clergy: according to the saying, 'the greater thou art the more humble thyself.' [footnote 578] the altar signifieth christ, without whom no acceptable gift is offered unto the father. whence the church uttereth her prayers unto the father _through_ christ. the vestments with which the altar is adorned be the saints of whom the prophet speaketh unto god, saying, 'thou shalt surely clothe thee with them all as with an ornament.' [footnote 579] [footnote 573: s. john x.] [footnote 574: cant, iii, 10.] [footnote 575: cant, iii, 10.] [footnote 576: cant, i, 17.] [footnote 577: cant, iii, 9.] [footnote 578: eccles. iii, 18.] [footnote 579: isaiah xlix, 18.] {168} the steps by which we ascend unto the altar do spiritually denote the apostles and martyrs of christ who have shed their blood for the love of him. the bride in the canticles saith, 'the ascent unto it is purple, the midst thereof being paved with love.' [footnote 580] furthermore, the fifteen virtues be expressed by the fifteen steps with which they went up unto the temple of solomon: and the same be shown by the prophet in the fifteen continuous psalms, which the righteous man hath disposed as steps or degrees in his heart. [footnote 581] this is the ladder which jacob saw, the top of which touched the heavens. the lights of the church be they by whose doctrine the church shineth as the sun and the moon; unto whom it is said by our lord's voice, [footnote 582] 'ye are the light of the world.' they be also the examples of good works: whence he saith in his admonitions, 'let your light so shine before men.' [footnote 583] in that the church is adorned joyfully within but not without, is shown morally that its 'glory is all from within.' [footnote 584] for although it be contemptible externally, yet doth it shine within in the soul, which is the abode of god: whence the church saith, 'i am black but comely.' [footnote 585] and again, 'yea, i have a goodly heritage.' [footnote 586] which the prophet considering, saith, 'lord, i have loved the habitation of thy house: and the place where thine honour dwelleth,' [footnote 587] which place also faith, hope, and charity do spiritually adorn. [footnote 580: cant, iii, 10. vulgate.] [footnote 581: the fifteen psalms, cxx-cxxxiv of our version, are called songs of degrees.] [footnote 582: s. matthew v.] [footnote 583: ibid.] [footnote 584: here is an allusion to psalm xlv (_eructavit cor meum_), 14. ] [footnote 585: cant, i, 5.] [footnote 586: psalm xvi (_conserva me domine_), 7.] [footnote 587: psalm xxvi (_judica me domine_), 8. ] {169} the cross of triumph is placed in the middle of the church, because the church loveth her redeemer in the middle of her heart, and 'the midst thereof is paved with love for the daughters of jerusalem.' [footnote 588] the which as a sign of victory, let all who see say one and all, 'hail, salvation of the whole world: hail, life-giving tree!' wherefore, lest we should ever forget the love of god for us, 'who gave his only-begotten son' to redeem us his servants, the church armeth herself in her bosom and forehead with this sign, signifying that the mystery of the cross must always be believed by us in our heart, and confessed openly with our mouth. the figure of which went before her in egypt. but when we cross ourselves from the forehead downwards, and then from the left to the right, we do set forth this mystery, that god 'bowed the heavens and came down,' to teach us to prefer things eternal unto things temporal. but by this sign the army of the devil is overthrown; the church triumpheth, 'terrible as an army with banners.' [footnote 589] 'how dreadful is this place: this is none other but the house of god.' [footnote 590] and the hymn saith, 'the banners of the king come forth: the cross unfolds its mystery.' [footnote 591] round this do the heavenly legions rally. of this it is written, 'i saw the holy city. new jerusalem, coming down from god out of heaven.' [footnote 592] [footnote 588: cant. iii, 10.] [footnote 589: cant, vi, 10.] [footnote 590: genesis xxviii, 17.] [footnote 591: the hymn, _vexilla regis_, occurs in the office for passion sunday.] [footnote 592: apoc. xxi, 2.] for the church is militant here; in her home she doth reign: a part is in pilgrimage, a part in glory. that which is in pilgrimage coming up from her exile through the desert, doth sigh for her home, from the 'waters of babylon for the heavenly jerusalem;' while the other part, continually seeing peace, doth hold perpetual festival. thus the heavenly city of jerusalem is called the 'vision of peace.' [footnote 593] [footnote 593: see note 4 on the _rationale_, i. i, p. 13.] {170} how glorious is her kingdom, 'glorious things are spoken of thee, thou city of god.' [footnote 594] her guardians be the citizens of heaven, the legions of angels with the glorious company of the apostles, the prophets, and the patriarchs, the armies of martyrs robed in purple, the flowers of virgins, the verdant choir of confessors, compassed about with the universal assembly of all the saints, chaste and glorified! and this wondrous court of heaven is yet more wondrously adorned by that one incomparable jewel, the virgin mother, 'whose like there ne'er hath been, whose like there ne'er shall be.' but how great is the admiration of all in beholding the king himself, and how harmonious be the songs in praise of him; this is known to those alone, who have deserved to stand amongst the happy throng, and to behold the mystery of the trinity and the glory of christ: who is encircled by the angelic choirs; upon whom the angels desire continually to gaze. to behold this the immortal king face to face, the church below is preparing herself: and while she keepeth here her feasts of time, she is remembering the festivals of her home and of eternity; in which the bridegroom is hymned by angelical instruments. and all the saints continually celebrating the day of great festivity 'which the lord hath made,' cease not in their nuptial songs to laud the eternal bridegroom, the beautiful in form above the sons of men; him who hath chosen the church for himself of his free mercy. of whom, as he had seen her from eternity, he saith, 'i will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense and will speak unto my spouse.' [footnote 595] for whom 'he came forth as a bridegroom out of his chamber, and rejoiced as a giant to run his course'; [footnote 596] when he went forth from his father, and returned unto his father--went forth indeed even unto hades, returned unto the throne of god--to make all his elect, from the beginning even unto the end of the world, one kingdom in the vision of the supreme trinity: in which is glorified 'one god world without end.' [footnote 594: psalm lxxxvii (_fundamenta ejus_), 2.] [footnote 595: cant, iv, 6.] [footnote 596: psalm xix (_caeli enarrant_), 5.] {171} chapter ii of the dedication of a church with what carefulness and love christ doth adorn the bride for himself and prepare her for her heavenly dedication, is in part signified by the consecration of the material church. the bishop compasseth the church to be dedicated three times, sprinkling it with holy water, the clergy and people following him. 239 a. in the meanwhile without and within there be burning twelve lamps. so often as he cometh to the door (which for a mystical reason is shut), the bishop smiteth the lintel with his pastoral staff, saying 'lift up your heads, o ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the king of glory shall come in.' [footnote 597] [footnote 597: psalm xxiv (_domini est terra_).] the deacon answereth, 'who is the king of glory?' to whom the bishop, 'the lord of hosts: he is the king of glory.' at the third time, the door being thrown open, he entereth with the clergy and people, saying, 'peace be to this house.' then he performeth the other ceremonies which pertain to dedication. but whatever things be here done visibly, the same doth god work by his invisible power in the soul, which is the true temple of god: wherein faith layeth the foundation, hope raiseth the buildings, and charity finisheth it. also the church catholic herself, being made one out {172} of many stones, is the temple of god; because many temples make one temple, of which there is one lord and one faith. wherefore the house must be dedicated; the soul sanctified. water is penitence: salt, wisdom; the threefold aspersion, the threefold immersion in baptism; the twelve lights, the twelve apostles, preaching the mystery of the cross; the bishop, christ; his staff, christ's power; the three strokes on the door, christ's dominion over all things in heaven, earth, and hell: 'that all the threefold frame of things may bow the knee to him, their lord.' again, the question of the deacon within is the ignorance of the people; the opening of the door, the ejection of sin. the bishop entering, prayeth for peace on the house, and christ entering the world maketh peace between god and men. then prostrate he prayeth unto the lord for its sanctification: and so christ, humbled in his passion, prayed for his disciples and them that should believe, saying, 'father, sanctify them in thy truth.' [footnote 598] [footnote 598: s. john xvii.] arising he does not give the salutation but only prayeth: because they who be not yet sanctified must not be blessed but only prayed for. the writing the alphabet upon the pavement is the simple teaching of faith in the heart of man. the line drawn from the left corner of the east unto the right corner of the west, and the other line from the right of the east unto the left of the west, do express the cross, and also the gathering in of both peoples: according as jacob blessed the children of joseph with his hands crossed. [footnote 599] [footnote 599: genesis xxviii] for although christ passing from the east did leave the jews, because they would not believe, on his left hand, and did come unto the gentiles; to whom, though they had been in the west. he granteth to be on the right hand: yet will he again, passing from the gentiles who be placed in the {173} right of the east, visit the jews in the left hand corner: who, it is evident, be worse than he first found the gentiles. the staff with which the alphabet is described typifieth the ministry of teachers, by which the conversion of the gentiles is effected and that of jews perfected. in that afterwards the bishop standing before the altar saith, 'o god, make speed to save us'; he doth signify those who having received the faith are preparing themselves to fight. and because they be still in conflict, and as it were amongst sighs, the alleluia is not yet added. after this the water is blessed with salt and ashes; wine mixed with water being also added. the water is the people; the salt, doctrine; the ashes, the remembrance of the passion of christ. the wine mixed with water is christ, god and man; the wine his godhead, the water his manhood. thus the people is sanctified by the doctrines of faith and remembrance of the passion, being united with its head both god and man. whence the altar and the church be sprinkled within; to show that within, as without, the spiritual church must be sanctified. the aspersory, made of hyssop, denoteth humility; with which grace the catholic church being sprinkled is purified. the bishop compasseth the church in lustration and as if bestowing his care upon all. in the meanwhile is chanted the psalm, 'let god arise and his enemies be scattered,' with its proper response and antiphon, which is followed by another, 'whoso dwelleth under the defence of the most high.' then the bishop chanteth, 'my house shall be called an house of prayer,' and also, 'i will tell out thy name among my brethren.' and because no work can prosper without god, he prayeth in conclusion that they may be heard who shall enter therein to pray for blessings. after this he approacheth unto the altar, saying, 'i will go up unto the altar of the lord,' with the whole psalm: and what remains of the water {174} he poureth away at the base of the altar, committing unto god that which surpasseth human abilities in so great a sacrament. after this the altar is wiped with a linen cloth. the altar is christ, the cloth is his flesh, brought by the beating of his passion unto the whiteness and glory of immortality. next the bishop offereth upon the altar frankincense, which is burnt in the shape of a cross in the middle thereof; and at its four corners he maketh crosses with sanctified oil. then upon each of the four walls of the church there be made three crosses with the same oil: and the consecration being thus finished, the altar is covered with a white veil. incense, prayers, and oil do denote the grace of the holy ghost. whose fulness--'like the precious ointment upon the head that ran down unto the beard: even unto aaron's beard,' [footnote 600] --came down upon the apostles and their disciples: who preached the mystery of the cross through the four quarters of the world, the lord working with them. the white covering doth typify the joy of immortality: concerning which the son exulteth, saying unto the father, 'thou hast put off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.' [footnote 601] [footnote 600: psalm cxxxiii (_ecce quam bonum_), 2.] [footnote 601: psalm xxx (_exaltabo te domine_), 12.] {175} appendix a chancels 'the temple of old was divided into two parts by a veil hung in the middle thereof. the first part was called the holy place, but the inner part the holy of holies. whatever part then of the office of the mass cometh before the secret [footnote 602] is performed as it were in the outer place: but the secret itself within the holy of holies. there were in the holy of holies the altar of incense, the ark of the testimony, the mercy-seat above the ark, and over this two cherubims of glory with their faces looking towards each other. herein the high priest entered alone once in the year, having the names of the patriarchs written upon the breastplate of judgment and the shoulderplates, and bearing a censer of burning coals and blood, and incense, which with prayer he placed in the thurible until the cloud of incense covered him. [footnote 603] [footnote 602: after the _sanctus_, which, as we shall find, was performed with the full choir and the accompaniment of organs, came the _secret_, which embraced the whole _canon of the mass_, performed by the celebrant alone, and the celebration of the holy eucharist. 'it is called the secret because these things be hidden from us, since the nature of man can in no wise fully comprehend so great a mystery: for the denoting of which it is rightly performed secretly. to signify the same also, the priest when entering upon the secret is veiled as it were with the side curtains.' see other mystical reasons adduced in the remainder of this passage, book iv, chapter 35, and in chapter 39 an account of the side curtains. upon the use of these see also the _dublin review_, vol. x, p. 339. ] [footnote 603: see leviticus xvi; exodus xxviii, xxxix, and xl.] {176} afterwards he sprinkled the mercy-seat and the altar with blood, and then he went out to the people, and washed his vestments in the evening. these were types of old, but they have ceased since the things signified thereby have come. but thus the former temple doth denote the present church; the holy of holies, heaven; the high priest, christ; the blood, his passion; the coals, his love; the thurible. his flesh; the burning incense, prayers of sweet savour; the altar, the hosts of heaven; the ark, christ in his humanity; the mercy-seat, god the father; the two cherubims, the twain testaments, the which do look towards each other because the two do agree; the vestments which be washed, mankind. wherefore consider what things were done of old, and what things christ hath done, and then see how the minister of the church doth represent the same in the office of the mass. by the ark also is signified the humility of christ, from which through his mercy all good hath come unto us' (durandus, book iv, preface 13, 14). in the next section the same subject is further illustrated, though without reference to the immediate subject of this appendix, the necessity of the division of every church into a chancel and nave. the reader may consult a most interesting series of chapters in hugo de sancto victore (tituli ii-viii, ex. misc. ii, lib. iv) upon this subject: the passages are far too long for insertion here. the _absolute necessity_ of this twofold division is a point which it is more than painful at this time to have to prove. it is only within the last two centuries that our own or any branch of the church catholic has dared to depart from an usage which, if any, has universality, antiquity, and consent on its side, and of whose authority was never any doubt in the church. {177} for some of the arguments which have been adduced in the present controversy we must refer to the publications of the cambridge camden society, and particularly the _ecclesiologist_. there is nothing more wanted than a careful treatise on the subject which shall in a compendious form put this and several points depending upon it, such as orientation itself, and praying towards the east, in a clear light. appendix b orientation 'furthermore albeit god is everywhere, yet ought the priest at the altar and in the offices to pray towards the east: according to the constitutions of vigilius, pope. whence in churches which have the doors at the west, he that celebrateth turneth in the salutations to the people: but in churches which have the entrance at the east, [footnote 604] as at rome, there is no need in the salutations for turning round, because the priest always turneth to the people. the temple also of solomon, and the tabernacle of moses had their entrance from the east. pray we therefore towards the east, being mindful, firstly, that he, who is the splendour of eternal light, hath illuminated 'them [footnote 605] that sit in darkness and the shadow of death, rising with healing in his wings': [footnote 606] of whom it is said, 'behold the man, whose name is the east.' [footnote 607] for the which cause he saith in the book of wisdom, [footnote 608] {178} 'we ought to pray eastward, where the light ariseth.' not because the divine majesty is locally in the east: which is potentially and essentially in all places; as it is written, 'do not i fill [footnote 609] heaven and earth'; and in like manner speaketh the prophet, [footnote 610] 'if i ascend into heaven. thou art there: if i go down to hell, thou art there also': but because to those 'who fear his name shall [footnote 611] the sun of righteousness arise,' 'which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.' [footnote 612] [footnote 604: s. john lateran is an instance. we may observe that the reasons for the orientation of churches must have been very strong to have caused an universal disregard of an example thus set at the centre of western christendom.] [footnote 605: s. luke i, 79.] [footnote 606: malachi iv, 2.] [footnote 607: zechariah vi, 12. ] [footnote 608: wisdom xvi, 28.] [footnote 609: jeremiah xxiii, 24.] [footnote 610: psalm cxxxix (_domine probasti_), 7.] [footnote 611: malachi iv, 2.] [footnote 612: s. john i, 9.] secondly, that our souls be thereby taught to turn themselves to the things that are more desirable. thirdly, because they who praise god ought not to turn their backs on him. fourthly, according to joannes damascenus (who giveth also the three following reasons), [footnote 613] to show that we seek our country. [footnote 613: _quatuor orationes._ we should probably read, _rationes_.] fifthly, that we may look upon christ crucified, who is the true east. sixthly, that we may prove that we expect him to come to be our judge. for damascenus saith in that place, 'god planted a garden eastward'; [footnote 614] whence man's sin made him an exile, and instead of paradise made him to dwell in the west: therefore, looking to our ancient home, we pray towards the east. [footnote 614: genesis ii, 8.] seventhly, because our lord, at his crucifixion, looked towards the east: and also when he ascended into heaven. he ascended towards the east: and thus the apostles adored him: and thus 'he shall come again in like manner as they saw him go into heaven.' [footnote 615] [footnote 615: acts i, 11.] eighthly, daniel likewise in the jewish captivity prayed towards the temple. {179} yet augustine saith that 'no scripture hath taught us to pray towards the east' [he, however, says also, 'though i find not a thing on record in scripture, yet i receive it as proceeding from the apostles if the universal church embrace it'] [footnote 616] (durandus v, ii, 57). [footnote 616: this section is in several places corrupt: for example--from damascenus the quotation in the sixth head belongs properly to the seventh. our readers may perhaps be reminded of the anecdote of the good earl of derby (who, if the reformed church in england should ever have a calendar of her own, will assuredly be one of its martyrs), when on the scaffold. the church of bolton was in sight: and the earl requested that he might be allowed to kneel on the western side of the block, so that the last object on which his eyes were fixed might be god's house. his executioners showed their poor malice to the last, by denying him this wish.] s. isidore has a curious passage about orientation. a place, he says, designed so as to face the east was called _templum_, from _contemplating_. of which there were four parts; the front facing the east, the back the west, the right hand the south, and the left hand the north: whence also when they builded temples, they took their east at the equinox, so that lines drawn from east to west would make the sections of the sky on the right and left hands equal, in order that he who prayed might look at the direct east (orig. xv, iv). appendix c on the design of the analogium, ambo or rood loft, and the reading of the gospel from it 1. we have noted afore, that the priest, in the celebration of mass, when it is not high mass, himself readeth the gospel. but when a bishop or priest celebrateth high mass with the highest solemnity, then, in some churches, as at rome, the deacon having kissed the {180} right hand of the bishop, taketh the book of the gospel from the altar, and giveth it to the sub-deacon to bear, and asketh and receiveth the bishop's or priest's blessing. but in other churches, he first asketh for the blessing before he taketh the book. the benediction having been bestowed, the deacon proceedeth along the south side [footnote 617] of the choir to the rood loft, and before him goeth the sub-deacon with the volume of the gospel, and before him the incense-bearer with incense; and before him the torch-bearer with lighted tapers, and before him in some churches the banner of the cross: and thus they ascend the rood loft. and the deacon readeth the gospel: the which being finished, they return to the priest or bishop together. which things we will more particularly go through. it is also to be noted, that in some churches, the deacon, when about to go to the rood loft, beginneth the antiphon which followeth benedictus in the nocturns, and while he is going thither, it is taken up, and finished by the chorus, to set forth charity: and it is sung without instruments, to denote that god commandeth us to have love alone. and now is the figure changed: for the deacon, who before represented s. john baptist, now setteth forth s. john evangelist: because 'the law and the prophets were until john: [footnote 618] and after him the kingdom of heaven is preached.' [footnote 617: as is well known, double staircases to rood lofts appear to have been almost as common in england as single ones: and there are sometimes, especially in norfolk churches, two corresponding rood turrets.] [footnote 618: 2 s. luke xvi, 16.] 2. and the word _evangelium_ meaneth good tidings; from [greek text], well, and [greek text], a messenger. for the preaching of christ and his apostles is indeed a gospel, as proclaiming life after death, rest after labour, a kingdom after slavery. {181} 3. and ye are to wit, that as the head hath pre-eminence over the other members of the body, and as the other members obey it: so the gospel is the principal thing of all that are said in the office of the mass, and hath the pre-eminence, and whatever things be there read, or sung, they consent to it, as may well be perceived. 4. the deacon therefore first kisseth the hand of the bishop in silence, because the preacher must proclaim the gospel for the sake of eternal glory, as saith the spouse in the canticles, 'his right hand shall embrace me.' [footnote 619] also because the angel which came to announce the glory of christ's resurrection did sit on the right hand, clothed in white. [footnote 620] in other churches, however, he doth not kiss, but only bowing asketh for a blessing. but the sub-deacon or deacon doth not kiss the hands, but the feet, of the roman pontiff, that he may exhibit the greatest reverence to the greatest bishop, and show that he is his vicar, whose feet the woman that was a sinner kissed. [footnote 621] for his footstool is to be adored because it is holy. whose feet also, when he had risen from the dead, the woman held and adored. generally, none ought to kiss the hand of the roman pontiff, unless when he receiveth something from his hands, or giveth something to them: to show that we ought on both accounts to give thanks unto him, who giveth to all of his own, and receiveth from none. [footnote 619: canticles ii, 6.] [footnote 620: s. mark xvi, 5.] [footnote 621: s. luke vii, 37.] 5. the deacon incontinently thereafter taketh the book of the gospel from the altar, because the 'law shall go forth out of sion, and the word of the lord from jerusalem': [footnote 622] not the mosaic law which went forth of sinai, but the gospel law, of which the prophet saith, 'behold the days come, saith the lord, that i will make a new covenant with the house of jacob and with the house of israel.' [footnote 623] [footnote 622: micah iv, 2.] [footnote 623: jeremiah xxxi, 31.] {182} the book is also taken from the altar, because the apostles received the gospel from the altar, when they went about preaching the passion of christ. or the altar in this place signifieth the jews, from whom the kingdom of god is taken, and given unto a nation that will do its fruits: and from this, that the gospel is taken from the altar, we learn, that it is the word of god, which is signified by the altar, according to that saying, 'an altar of earth shall ye make unto me.' [footnote 624] [footnote 624: exodus xx, 24.] 6. but he taketh it, according to some, from the right side of the altar: because the church of the jews, whence our church springeth, was situate in the east: and placeth it on the left, as it is written, 'his left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me': [footnote 625] and that for a threefold cause. firstly, the gospel teacheth that things celestial, which be signified by the right, be preferred to things terrestrial, which the left hand setteth forth. secondly, the book is inclined on the left shoulder, to signify that the preaching of christ shall pass from the gentiles, as it is written: 'in those days israel shall be saved.' [footnote 626] thirdly, because in temporal life, which is set forth by that side, needful is it that christ should be preached: and the book of the gospel is in some churches adorned on the outside with gold and gems. but the book remaineth on the altar, from the time that the priest goeth there, till the gospel be read, because it, in this respect, signifieth jerusalem: since the gospel was first preached in jerusalem, and remained there from the advent of the lord till it was published to the gentiles. as he saith, 'from sion shall go forth the laws.' [footnote 627] for jerusalem was the place of the passion, which is also set forth by the altar. [footnote 625: canticles ii, 6.] [footnote 626: romans xi, 26.] [footnote 627: micah iv, 2.] {183} 7. thereafter he seeketh the benediction: because none must preach unless he be sent. according to that saying, 'how shall they preach, except they be sent?' [footnote 628] and the lord saith to his disciples, 'pray ye therefore the lord of the harvest that he may send forth labourers into his harvest.' [footnote 629] but esaias, when he had heard the voice of the lord, saying, 'whom shall i send, and who will go for us?' [footnote 630] made answer and said, 'here am i, send me.' and the lord said, 'go and tell this people,' etc. [footnote 628: romans x, 15.] [footnote 629: s. matt, ix, 38.] [footnote 630: isaiah vi, 8, 9.] 8. again, moses prefigured this kind of blessing: who, when he had ascended unto the mountain, received the tables of the law and the blessing, and gave the commandment to the people. and the lord also himself blessed the order of deacons, and gave it the holy spirit and sent it to preach through the whole world. the bishop therefore, or the priest, visibly blesseth the deacon who is about to read the gospel, which he did not do to the sub-deacon when about to read the epistle, because christ sent the law and the prophets, which be signified by the epistle, while he remained hidden from the world: but after that he had visited it, and conversed with men he sent forth his apostles and evangelists, and taught them, saying, 'go and teach, saying, the kingdom of heaven is at hand.' [footnote 631] 'and they went through the villages, evangelising, and doing cures everywhere.' and he sendeth him to read the gospel, to note that christ sent the apostles to preach the kingdom of god. [footnote 631: s. matthew x, 7.] 9. but the deacon, laying up in his heart the things which were said in the benediction, must study to show himself pure in heart, clean in words, chaste in deed, that he may be able to set forth the gospel worthily, because the fountain of living waters, that is, the gospel, doth not flow freely, except from libanus, that is, from a chaste heart, and a pure mouth. {184} for praise is not seemly in the mouth of a sinner; nay rather of the sinner saith god, 'what hast thou to do to set forth my ordinances, and take my covenant into thy mouth.' [footnote 632] and therefore he is fortified by the sign of the cross, and then having received license and benediction, as is aforesaid, and having made the sign of the cross, that he may walk in safety, proceedeth to the rood loft in silence, with his eyes fixed on the ground: bearing, according to the custom of some churches, nothing in his hand, as the lord commanded the apostles whom he sent to preach the kingdom of god. 'take,' saith he, 'nothing for the journey, and salute no one.' [footnote 633] but in other churches the deacon beareth a book, as shall be said hereafter. but when he cometh to the rood loft, he saluteth it, as entering into a house to which he offereth peace, and passeth from the right side of the choir to the left, as he had before transferred the book from the right to the left side. for when the jews had refused the word of god, it was preached to the gentiles, who are understood by the left side. [footnote 632: psalm 1 (_deus deorum_) 16.] [footnote 633: s. matthew x, 10.] 10. in the roman church, and in certain others, the sub-deacon ascendeth the rood loft one way, [footnote 634] and the deacon another: because the one proceedeth to an increase of knowledge by teaching, the other by learning: and because the minister by the merit of his works, and the preacher by the merit of his words, proceedeth to an increase of righteousness. whence the psalmist: 'thy righteousness standeth like the mountains of god': [footnote 635] but they both return to the bishop by the same way, because by final perseverance they attain their reward, {185} as the lord testifieth, saying: 'he that endureth to the end, the same shall be saved.' [footnote 636] and that preaching sufficeth not without good deeds. for 'jesus began both to do and to teach.' [footnote 637] therefore the preacher returneth by the same way by the which the minister had gone up. moreover, he that is about to read the gospel goeth and ascendeth by one way, and returneth by another, according to that saying, 'they returned into their own country another way': [footnote 638] because the apostles did first preach to the jews and then to the gentiles: as it is written, 'since ye have cast from you the word of god,' [footnote 639] and the rest. [footnote 634: _per dextram partem._ we are to imagine, in the whole of this description, the spectators supposed to face the altar. so in the fifteenth chapter of this book, the epistle is said to be read _in dextera parte_.] [footnote 635: psalm xxxvi (_dixit injustus_), 6. ] [footnote 636: s. matthew x, 22.] [footnote 637: acts i, 1] [footnote 638: s. matthew ii, 12.] [footnote 639: acts xiii, 46.] 11. the sub-deacon precedeth the deacon (because john and his preaching preceded christ and his preaching), carrying in some churches a cushion; which he may place under the book. by the cushion, on which the book resteth, be set forth the temporal things of life, as it is written: 'if we have sown spiritual things, is it a great matter if we reap your temporal things?' [footnote 640] for according to the apostle, 'they which serve the altar, eat of the altar.' [footnote 641] for 'the labourer is worthy of his hire.' [footnote 642] and the lord taught us the law, 'thou shalt not muzzle the ox when it treadeth out the corn.' [footnote 643] again, a cushion is placed under the book to denote that which the lord saith, 'my yoke is easy, and my burden light.' [footnote 644] austin saith, 'to this yoke whosoever is subject, hath all things subject to him.' [footnote 640: i corinth, ix, 11.] [footnote 641: i corinth, ix, 13. ] [footnote 642: s. luke x, 7.] [footnote 643: deuteron. xxv, 4.] [footnote 644: s. matthew xi, 30.] the cushion therefore denoteth the sweetness and pleasure that ariseth from the commands of god. whence the prophet, 'thou, o god, hast of thy goodness prepared for the poor.' [footnote 645] [footnote 645: psalm lxviii (_exurgat deus_), 10.] {186} and again, 'o how sweet are thy words unto my taste.' [footnote 646] yet in the roman church, the deacon goeth first, as the teacher: sub-deacon followeth as the learner: the one precedeth, that he may preach, the other followeth, that he may minister. but after the reading of the gospel, the sub-deacon, as being now sufficiently instructed, returneth first, having in his hand the gospel, as bringing back the gospel as the fruit of his ministrations: according to that which the lord promised: 'he that receiveth a prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a prophet's reward.' [footnote 647] whom therefore the deacon sendeth aforehand to the bishop, to show that he is bringing back the fruit of his preaching: concerning which the lord commanded, 'i have called you that ye should go and bring forth fruit, and that your fruit should remain.' [footnote 648] moreover, the deacon, bearing back the cushion and gospel, signifieth that the preacher ought, by his good works, to offer his life to god. whence the apostle, 'whatsoever ye do in word and deed, do all in the name of our lord jesus christ.' [footnote 649] [footnote 646: psalm cxix (_beati immaculati_), 103.] [footnote 647: s. matthew x. 41.] [footnote 648: s. john xv, 16.] [footnote 649: colos. iii 17.] 12. the deacon also sendeth aforehand the thurible with incense, because the works of christ preceded his doctrine. as it is written, 'jesus began to do, and to teach.' but the thurible with incense signifieth prayer with devotion, which the faithful then chiefly ought to employ when they hear the word of god. again, he doth it, because the preacher must send forth the sweet odour of good works: according to that saying of the apostle: 'we are a sweet savour of christ in every place.' [footnote 650] he whose life is despised needs is it that his preaching also is contemned. [footnote 650: 2 corinth, ii, 15.] . . . . . . {187} the cross precedeth the gospel in token that the preacher must follow the crucified. whence the lord saith to peter, 'follow me.' after this, the deacon ascendeth the _ambo_ [the rood loft]. 17. now _ambo_ meaneth the pulpit, whence the gospel is read, so called from _ambio_ [to surround] because that place is surrounded with steps. in some churches also there be two ascents, one left, namely towards the east, where the deacon ascendeth; one to the right, namely towards the west, where he descendeth. . . . . . 18. he ascendeth that he may read the gospel with a loud and clear voice: as that which is to be heard of all, according to that saying of the prophet, 'o thou that evangelisest to sion, get thee up into the high mountain.' [footnote 651] [footnote 651: isaiah xi, 9.] . . . . . . also that we may imitate our lord, who went up into a mountain, [footnote 652] that he might preach the gospel. the gospel is also read in a lofty and eminent place, because it hath been preached throughout all the world: as it is written: 'their sound is gone out unto all lands.' [footnote 653] but the epistle is read in a lower place, as typifying the law, which was confined to judea alone, as it is written: 'in jewry is god known.' [footnote 654] [footnote 652: s. matthew v, i.] [footnote 653: psalm xix (_coeli enarrant_), 4.] [footnote 654: psalm lxxv (_notus in judea_), i.] . . . . . 19. but in a mass of requiem the gospel is not read in that exalted place, but at the altar, to signify that preaching profiteth not the departed. . . . . . 20. also the gospel is read from an eagle, according to that saying, 'he came flying upon the wings of the winds.' [footnote 655] and the eagle itself is covered with a covering of cloth or silk, on certain feasts, to signify the softness of the heart: as he saith, 'i will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and will give you a heart of flesh.' [footnote 656] [footnote 655: psalm xviii (_diligam te_), 10] [footnote 656: ezekiel xi, 19. ] . . . . . {188} 21. but he that readeth the gospel passeth to the left side: and setteth his face to the north, that the saying may be fulfilled, which is written, 'i will say to the north give up, and to the south keep not back' [footnote 657] (durandus, book iv, chap. xxiv). [footnote 657: isaiah xliii, 6.] appendix d on the sign of the cross in the second chapter of his fifth book durandus enters at great length into this subject. the reason for making the sign is to drive away evil spirits, who, as s. chrysostome says, 'always flee when they see the sign of the cross, as fearing that staff by which they have been wounded.' the pole on which the brazen serpent was raised, the crossing of jacob's hands when blessing joseph's children, the mark _tau_ (ezekiel ix, 4) on the forehead, and the seal on the forehead in the apocalypse, are some of the representations of the cross here alleged. the cross is to be made with three fingers, that is, the thumb and two fingers, in honour of the trinity. the jacobites and eutychians use only one finger. next the different methods of crossing are discussed. the sign ought to be made at the end of the gospel, the creeds, the lord's prayer, the _gloria in excelsis_, the _sanctus_, the _agnus dei_, the _benedictus_, _magnificat_, _nunc dimittis_, at the beginning of the hours, the end of the mass, when the priest gives the benediction, and whenever mention is made of the cross of the crucified. see also our author in his sixth book _de die parasceu_. {189} appendix e on the four colours used in church hangings, etc. 1. there be four principal colours, by which, according to the diversity of days, the church distinguisheth her vestments: to wit, white, red, black, and green. for we read that in the garments of the law there were four colours, fine linen, purple, jacinth, scarlet. the roman church also useth violet and saffron, as shall be said below. 2. white vestments be used in the festivals of holy confessors, and virgins which be not martyrs, on account of their integrity and innocence. for it is written, 'her nazarites were whiter than snow.' [footnote 658] and again: 'they shall walk with me in white: [footnote 659] for they are virgins: and follow the lamb whithersoever he goeth.' on account of the same thing white is used on the festivals of angels; concerning whom the lord saith to lucifer: [footnote 660] [footnote 658: lamentations iv, 7.] [footnote 659: the bishop here confuses two passages, apocal. iii, 4, and xiv, 4. of the same subject laevinus torrentius says beautifully in his hymn on the holy innocents: ergo supremi parte coeli, lactea qua lucidum fulget via, qua picta dulci stillat uva nectare, et nectar exhalant rosae, loeti coronis luditis, et insignium mixti puellarum choris sacrum canentes itis agnum candido quacunque praecedat pede.] [footnote 660: a misquotation of the bishop's. the words are addressed to job. job xxxviii, 7.] {190} 'where wast thou .... when the morning stars sang together?' also in all the festivals of the holy mother of god. in the feast of all saints: yet some then use red. in the principal festival of s. john evangelist. [footnote 661] in the conversion of s. paul. in the cathedra of s. peter. [footnote 662] also from the vigil of the nativity of our lord to the octave of the epiphany: both inclusive; excepting the festivals of the martyrs included in that period. [footnote 663] in the nativity of our lord, and also of his forerunner, because each was born pure. 'for the lord rode upon a light cloud,' [footnote 664] that is, took unto himself sinless humanity, 'and entered egypt,' that is, came into the world: as saith the angel to the virgin, 'the holy ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the highest shall overshadow thee.' [footnote 665] but john, although he were born in sin, was sanctified from the womb: according to that saying, 'before thou camest forth from the womb i sanctified thee.' [footnote 666] and the angel saith to zecharias, 'he shall be filled with the holy ghost from his mother's womb.' [footnote 667] also white is used in the epiphany, on account of the splendour of that star which led the wise men, as saith the prophet, 'and the gentiles shall come to thy light, [footnote 668] and kings to the brightness of thy rising.' in the purification also, on account of the purity of the virgin mary: which, according to simeon, gave birth to 'a light to lighten the gentiles, and the glory of thy people israel.' [footnote 669] [footnote 661: that is, on the 27th of december, the day of his 'deposition': the other feast, kept in memory of his deliverance from the boiling oil, before the latin gate, and therefore called _s. joannes ante portam latinam_, is the 5th of may.] [footnote 662: the 22nd of february.] [footnote 663: which are s. stephen, the holy innocents, s. thomas of canterbury.] [footnote 664: isaiah xix, 3.] [footnote 665: s. luke i; 35.] [footnote 666: jeremiah i, 3.] [footnote 667: s. luke i, 15.] [footnote 668: isaiah ix, 3.] [footnote 669: a very harsh construction: but surely preferable to that by which the blessed virgin herself is spoken of as the promised light.] {191} on maundy thursday, to set forth the anointing, which is consecrated to the purification of the soul. for the gospel on that day principally setteth forth purity; 'he that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit': and again, 'if i wash thee not, thou hast no part with me.' [footnote 670] it is also used with the office of the mass from easter eve until the octave of the ascension inclusive: except on the rogation days and intervening festivals of martyrs. on easter day, on account of the angel who brought the tidings of the resurrection, who appeared in white garments: concerning whom matthew testifieth, saying, 'his countenance was as lightning, and his garment white as snow': [footnote 671] and also because children, when baptised, are clothed in white. so also on the ascension, because of the bright cloud in which christ ascended. 'for two men stood by them in white garments, which also said. ye men of galilee,' [footnote 672] etc. [footnote 670: s. john xiii, 10.] [footnote 671: s. matthew xxviii, 3.] [footnote 672: acts i, 11.] 3. and this is to be noted, that albeit in the consecration of bishops, the vestments be of the colour suitable for the day, at the dedication of a church they be ever white, on what day soever the ceremony be celebrated: since in the consecration of a bishop the mass of the day is sung, but in the dedication of a church, the mass of dedication is sung. for the church is called by the title of a virgin: according to that saying of the apostle, 'for i have betrothed you to one man, that i may present you as a chaste virgin to christ.' [footnote 673] concerning which saith the bridegroom in the canticles: 'thou art altogether fair, my love, and there is no spot in thee.' [footnote 674] but this vestment ought to be white, to signify that her garments must at all times be pure, that is, her life must be spotless. also in the octaves of those of the aforesaid feasts which have octaves, the white colour is used. [footnote 673: 2 corinthians ii, 11.] [footnote 674: canticles i, 15.] {192} 4. scarlet vestments are used on the festivals of the apostles, evangelists, and martyrs, on account of the blood of their passion, which they poured out for christ. for 'these be they which came out of great tribulation.' [footnote 675] except on the feast of the innocents, as shall be said below. also on the feast of the cross, because christ on the cross poured out his blood for us. whence the prophet, 'wherefore is thine apparel red, as one that treadeth out the wine vat?' [footnote 676] but according to others, we then use white vestments: because it is not the feast of the passion, but of the invention, or exaltations. [footnote 677] also from the vigil of pentecost to trinity sunday inclusively: and this on account of the fervour of the holy ghost, which appeared in fiery tongues on the apostles. 'for there appeared unto them divers tongues as of fire.' [footnote 678] whence the prophet: 'he sent a fire in their bones.' although in the martyrdom of ss. peter and paul both red and white be used: and in the nativity of s. john baptist, white: but in his decollation, red. [footnote 675: apocalypse vii, 14.] [footnote 676: isaiah lxiii, 2.] [footnote 677: both retained by our church. the former (may 3) instituted in commemoration of the discovery of the true cross, by s. helena: the other (sept. 14), which regulates the ember days in that month, in honour of its recapture from chosroes by the emperor heraclius. ] [footnote 678: acts i, 1.] 5. but when her festivity is celebrated, who was both a virgin and martyr, the martyrdom taketh precedence of the virginity; because it is a sign of the most perfect love: according as the truth saith, 'greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.' [footnote 679] wherefore on the commemoration of all saints, some use scarlet: but others, and among them the roman church, white: at which time the church saith, 'they shall walk in the sight of the lamb with white garments: and palms in their hands.' [footnote 680] [footnote 679: s. john xv, 13.] [footnote 680: apocalypse vii, 9.] {193} whence the spouse saith in the canticles: 'my beloved is white and ruddy: white in his confessors and virgins, ruddy in his apostles and martyrs.' for these are the flowers of roses, and the lilies of the valley. again they who use scarlet on the feast of all saints, do it with that intent because that feast was first instituted in honour of all martyrs. [footnote 681] but answer may be made that it was also in honour of the blessed virgin: and that at the present time, after the decree of s. gregory vii, the church keepeth that day holy to the memory of confessors and virgins. also, the octaves of these days follow the colour of the feasts themselves. [footnote 681: this alludes to the history of the feast of all saints. pope boneface obtained a grant of the pantheon from the emperor phocas: and dedicated it in honour of s. mary and all martyrs. this was on the 11th of may: and the feast of all martyrs was kept on that day under the title of _s. maria ad martyres_. s. john, having confessed before the latin gate on the 6th, the feast was subsequently kept on that day. but gregory iv transferred it to nov. 1st, because the harvest was then gathered in: and because the feast of all apostles being kept on may 1st, the other would answer to it half-yearly. _all martyrs_ occurs, in a solitary instance, as an english dedication: _all apostles_ not to be found in this country, has been adopted in germany. ] 6. black is used on good friday: and on days of abstinence and affliction: and also in rogations. moreover, in those processions which the roman pontiff maketh with bare feet: and in masses of requiem, and septuagesima to easter eve. for the spouse saith in the canticles, 'i am black but comely,' [footnote 682] etc. but on the feast of the innocents, some use black on account of sadness, some scarlet. the former allege the text, 'in rama was a voice heard,' [footnote 683] etc. and for the same cause canticles of joy are omitted: and the mitre is brought without the orfrey, on account of the martyrdoms to which the church hath principally an eye, when she saith, 'i saw beneath the throne the souls,' [footnote 684] etc. [footnote 682: canticles i, 5.] [footnote 683: jeremiah xxxi, 15; s. matthew ii, 18.] [footnote 684: apocalypse vi, 9.] {194} (so also on sunday, laetare [footnote 685] jerusalem, the roman pontiff beareth a mitre, beautified with the orfrey, on account of the joy which the golden [footnote 686] rose signifieth, but on account of the time being one of sadness, he weareth black vestments.) but the roman church, when the festival falleth on a week-day, useth violet, but on the octave, red. [footnote 685: palm sunday.] [footnote 686: this refers to the celebrated golden rose blessed by the roman pontiff on that day: and sent in token of approval to some catholic prince. some of our readers may remember that which was lately exhibited along with the golden altars of basle.] 7. in fine, on common days green vestments be employed: because green is the middle colour between black, white, and red; and specially between the octave of epiphany and septuagesima: and between pentecost and advent, in the sunday office, this colour is used. 8. as he saith, 'cypress with nard, nard and crocus.' [footnote 687] to these four colours be the others referred; to wit, the scarlet to the red, [footnote 688] the violet to the black, the fine linen to the white, the saffron to the green. but some refer the roses to martyrs, the saffron to confessors, the lilies to virgins. [footnote 687: canticles iii, 6. but the quotation is not exact.] [footnote 688: this passage seems very corrupt.] 9. it is not unmeet to use the violet on those days for which black is appointed. whence the roman church useth it from the first sunday in advent, to the mass of the vigil of the nativity, inclusive: and from septuagesima to easter eve exclusive. but on the feasts of saints on septuagesima and advent, violet or black is not to be used. and note that on easter eve in the whole office before mass violet is used, except that the deacon who blesseth the taper, and the sub-deacon who ministereth, wear a white dalmatic and tunic, respectively: because that benediction pertaineth to the resurrection, as doth also the mass. but the benediction being finished, the deacon putteth off the dalmatic, and putteth on a violet chesible: the sub-deacon, however, changeth not his vestments. {195} some also use white in the procession on palm sunday: and in the blessing of the boughs, and while the hymn _gloria, laus, et honor_, is sung, on account of the joy of that festivity. but the roman church useth violet: as it doth also in the procession on candlemas day; because that office treateth of the anxious expectation of simeon, and savoureth of the old testament. 10. it also useth that colour in the september ember days, and on the vigils of saints, when the mass is of the vigil: and on the rogation days, and in mass on s. mark's day. [footnote 689] for when we fast, then we bring under our flesh, that it may be conformed to that of christ, 'by the lividness of whose stripes we be healed.' [footnote 690] [footnote 689: whether there be any superstitious fasting on s. mark's day?' is a question which sometimes occurs in the visitation articles of archbp. parker and his contemporaries.] [footnote 690: isaiah liii, 5.] the which to express we use violet, which is a pale, and as it were, a livid colour (durandus, book iii, 18). appendix f of bells being not rung for three days before easter 'on these three days the bells be silent, because the apostles and preachers and others who be understood by bells were then silenced. for the sound of bells doth signify the sound of preaching: of which it is said, "their sound hath gone out into all lands." for at that time they no longer went round the towns and villages preaching the gospel, but "after they had sung an hymn they went out with jesus to the mount of olives." to whom when the lord had said, "behold he is at hand {196} that doth betray me," they slumbered for sadness, and ceased from praises. whence also from compline, or vespers, when our lord was betrayed beginneth the silence of the bells. others, however, do not sound their bells beyond prime of this fifth day of passion week.' (durandus, book vi, 72, 73). appendix g the authority for the dedication festival is our lord's observing the feast of the dedication of the temple. this festival has an octave: as also had the jewish feast, though the passover and feast of tabernacles had not. 'but this festival specially denoteth that eternal dedication, in which that other church, the holy soul, shall be so dedicated and united to god that it shall never be transferred to other uses: which will take place in the octave of the resurrection.' the psalms for the office of the festival are the _domini est terra, judica me domine, deus noster refugium, magnus dominus, quam dilecta, fundamenta ejus_, and _domine deus_ (durandus, book vii, 48). appendix h on the dedication of a church the following particulars are extracted and condensed from martene's invaluable work: and as his account is not easily accessible, and somewhat long, it has been thought well to subjoin them here. {197} churches were often, in the primitive ages, dedicated by more than one bishop. constantine having completed a magnificent church at jerusalem, invited the prelates, then assembled in council at tyre, to assist in its consecration (euseb. _vit. const._ iv, 43; sozomen. i, 46). constantius his son, having finished a church erected by his father at antioch, eusebius of nicomedia, the intruding patriarch of constantinople, summoned a council under pretence of consecrating the church, however much in reality to decide against the catholic doctrine of consubstantiality. ninety-seven bishops were present (sozomen. iii, 5). so it was also in the western church. this is proved by the preface to the fourth council of aries, holden in 524: which begins, 'when the priests of the lord had assembled in the will of god to the dedication of the church of s. mary at aries.' in the time of s. louis, pope pascal i consecrated the church of s. vincent, with the sacred college of bishops and cardinals. about the year 1015, the crypt of the monastery of s. michael was consecrated by s. bernard of hildersheilm and two other bishops; and three years afterwards, the church being finished, it was consecrated by the same s. bernard with three other bishops (_vita s. bernardi._ cap. xxxix, xl). all these bishops took an actual part in the service. in the consecration of the church of mans, in 1120, the high altar was consecrated by gilbert, archbishop of mans: s. julians by galfred of rouen: hildebert of mans consecrated s. mary's; reginald of anglers that of the holy cross. there is a fine passage to the same point in sugerius's book on the dedication of the church of s. denis: 'right early in the morning,' saith he, 'archbishops and bishops, archdeacons and abbots, and other venerable persons, who had lived of their proper {198} expense, bore themselves right bishopfully; and took their places on the platform raised for the consecration of the water, and placed between the sepulchres of the holy martyrs and s. saviour's altar. then might ye have seen, and they who stood by saw, and that with great devotion, such a band of so venerable bishops, arrayed in their white robes, sparkling in their pontifical robes and precious orfreys, grasp their pastoral staves, call on god in holy exorcism, pace around the consecrated enclosure, and perform the nuptials of the great king with such care, that it seemed as though the ceremony were performed by a chorus of angels, not a band of men. the crowd, in overwhelming magnitude, rolled around to the door; and while the aforesaid episcopal band were sprinkling the walls with hyssop, the king and his nobles drive them back, repress them, guard the portals.' yet the principal actor on the occasion was the bishop of the diocese. the thirty-sixth canon of the second council of aries decrees, 'if a bishop be minded to build a church in another diocese, let its dedication be reserved for the diocesan.' s. columbanus, being only a priest, dedicated the church of s. aurelia (walfrid. strabo. _vita s. gallo_, cap. vi). the preceding night was spent either in the church or in neighbouring churches in a solemn vigil. s. ambrose testifies that this was done on occasions of the dedication of the ambrosian church (_epist_. 22, _ad marcellina_). so s. gregory of mans, in his dedication of the church of s. julian, removed the relics of that saint into the church of s. martin, and there kept vigil (_de glor. mart_, ii, 34). relics were considered indispensably necessary: so s. paulinus (_epist_, xxxii, _ad sever_.) this church was dedicated in the name of christ, the saint of saints, the martyr of martyrs, the lord of lords, and was honoured {199} with the relics of the blessed apostles. see also the beautiful epistle of s. ambrose, translated in 'the church of the fathers.' the phrase was, _consecrare ecclesiam de reliquiis beati n_. yet some churches were consecrated without relics. the second nicene council decreed that in this case they should be supplied. those portions of the consecrated elements were placed with these: to which perhaps that expression of s. chrysostom is to be referred--'what is the altar by nature but a stone? but it is made holy, when it hath once received the body of christ.' these relics occupied different positions. in the church of s. benedict, consecrated by pope alexander ii, there were relics in the chapel-apse of s. john, in the bases of the piers, in the four angles of the bell tower, in the cross on the western gable, in the cross of the tower (_chron. cass_, iii, 30). ashes were sprinkled on the floor, and the bishop with his pastoral staff wrote on them the alphabet, sometimes in latin alone, sometimes in greek also. the whole ceremony concluded with the endowment of the church: or, as it was termed, presenting its dowry. by way of setting before our readers as clearly as possible the ancient form of dedication, we have chosen, among ten forms preserved by martene, that of s. dunstan. _here beginneth the order of the dedication of a church. the bishops and other ministers of the church advance singing the antiphon_, 'zaccheus, make haste and come down,' etc. prevent us, o lord, in all our, etc. {200} _then twelve candles are to be lighted, and placed round the church, with the antiphon_, three from the east, three from the west, three from the north, three from the south. god, which by the preaching of thine apostles, didst open to thy church the kingdom of heaven, and didst call them the lights of the world, grant, we beseech thee, that being assisted by their prayers, by whose teaching we are guided, and splendour illuminated, we may make these our actions pleasing to thy divine majesty. _here followeth the litany: the priests going thrice round the church, and beginning from that door at which they be after to enter, namely, the south door._ o christ, hear us, etc. prevent us, o lord, with thy tender mercy, and by the intercession of thy saints, receive our prayers graciously. let our prayers, o lord, come up before thee, and expel all wickedness from thy church. god, which rulest heaven and earth, graciously give us the aid of thy defence. _then one of the deacons entering the church, and shutting the door standeth before it, the others remaining without: and the bishop striking it with his staff, saith:_ lift up your heads, o ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the king of glory shall come in. _the deacon within answereth_, and saith: who is the king of glory? _the bishop._ lift up, etc. _the deacon._ who is, etc. _the bishop._ lift up, etc. _the deacon._ who is, etc. _chorus._ the lord of hosts, he is the king of glory. {201} _the bishop again striking the door it is opened: and he entereth: the chorus singing after him_, lift up your heads, etc., _to the end of the psalm_. _the bishop_. the lord be with you. _response_. and with thy spirit. _the bishop_. let us pray: we beseech thee, o lord, of thy mercy, to enter thy house, and to make for thyself an habitation in the hearts of the faithful. through, etc. _then the bishop entereth the choir, saying:_ peace be to this house, and to all that are in it; peace to them that come in, and to them that go out. bless, o lord, this house, which the sons of men have built for thee: hear those which shall come up to this place: hear their prayers in the lofty throne of thy glory. _the clerks begin the litany; the bishop, with certain priests and deacons, remaining prostrate at the altar._ lord have mercy upon us, etc. _as soon as_ agnus dei _is said, the bishop, rising, saith:_ let us pray. be thou exalted. lord, in thine own strength, etc. _then the bishop shall write the alphabet along the pavement,_ [footnote 691] _first from east to west, then from north to south, the chorus saying the psalm_, fundamenta ejus. [footnote 691: in the treatise of the mart. remigius, _de dedicatione ecciesiae_, we have the following explanation of this singular custom: 'a thing which might appear puerile, unless it had been instituted by men, great in dignity, spiritual in life, apostolical in discipline. in all things of this kind, the lord by his example hath gone before us: and what he hath done, remaineth unchangeable in his successors. what is understood by the alphabet save the beginnings and rudiments of sacred doctrine? whence s. paul, "ye have need that one teach you again, which be the first principles of the oracles of god." therefore the bishop writeth the alphabet, to signify that he teacheth the pure doctrine of the gospel. he writeth the alphabet twice, and that in the figure of a cross, to signify that the passion of christ is set forth by the gospel in its purity. he writeth it in the angles of the church, because by them be set forth the four corners of the world. he beginneth from the east, because the gospel began from the jews.' there is probably some reference to the saviour's stooping down, and writing in the sand. we may also compare those singular and rare bells, in which the only inscription round the crown consists of the letters of the alphabet.] {202} _the bishop_. o god, make speed, etc. _response_. o lord, make haste, etc. _the bishop_. glory be, etc. _response_. as it, etc. _then followeth the exorcism of the salt, and the water, and the ashes._ _then the bishop maketh the sign of the cross at the four corners of the altar, with hyssop, going round it seven times. the chorus sing the psalm_, miserere mei deus. _then the bishop sprinkleth the water three times round the church: the chorus singing_ deus noster refugium. _then the bishop sprinkleth the water over the altar: the chorus singing_ qui habitat. _then the bishop sprinkleth the whole church inside with the water thrice: to signify the church's inward faith in the trinity: and once outside, to signify the one baptism. the chorus sing_ fundamenta ejus; _and while the priests are ascending the turrets,_ jacob beheld a ladder, etc., _and the psalm_ deus noster refugium. _then the bishop entereth the church: and sprinkleth water on the pavement in the form of a cross: the chorus singing_ benedicite, omnia opera. _the bishop._ lift up your hearts. _response._ we lift, etc. _the bishop._ let us give thanks, etc. _response._ it is meet, etc. _then the bishop goeth to the altar, and poureth the remainder of the water at its base._ _then he blesseth the altar-stone, the altar clothes, the sacerdotal vestments, the corporal, the paten, the chalice, the thurible._ _here followeth the mass of dedication._ _the post communion ended, the bishop saith:_ {203} incline, o lord, thine ears unto me, and hear me: look down, o christ, from heaven, on thy flock and thy sheep: stretch thine hand over them: bless their bodies and their souls: that in the communion of the saints they may receive celestial benediction, light angelical, the holy ghost, the paraclete. amen. they who be regenerate of water and the holy ghost who be redeemed on earth by thy precious blood, who have received thy sign on their foreheads, grant them to be thine on the day of judgment. amen. and as thou didst bless patriarchs and prophets and apostles, martyrs and confessors, virgins and priests, so bless this flock, who are assembled to-day in thy name in this church. amen. and as by thine angel thou didst free the three children from the burning fiery furnace, so free this flock from everlasting death and the power of the devil, and from earthly lusts and all manner of weaknesses. amen. spare their faults, remit their sins, and present them pure and undefiled in the day of judgment: as thou didst receive enoch and elias into the kingdom of heaven. amen. god almighty bless and keep you, and make this house to shine with the glory of his presence, and open the eyes of his pity upon it day and night. amen. and grant of his mercy, that all, who have assembled together at this dedication, by the intercession of blessed n., and all other saints whose relics rest here, may obtain the remission of their sins. amen. that ye may be made a holy temple in the spirit, where the holy trinity may ever deign to dwell; and after this short life ye may attain to everlasting felicity. amen. which he grant. who liveth and reigneth, world without end. amen. {204} appendix i addenda page 6.--it shows how little durandus can rightly be charged with fancifulness, when we find him classing among ceremonial precepts, rites for which the rabbis and many modern expositors have given a symbolical reason. page 23.--'the lattice work of the windows.' wrongly translated in lewis, 'the screens before the windows.' page 25.--this passage proves that in the time and country of durandus seats or chairs except in the choir were unknown. though in england early english or early decorated open seats do occur, as in clapton-in-gordan, somersetshire, they are very rare, and take up much less of the church than is the case in later examples. see 'hist, of pews,' 3rd ed., pp. 19, 20, 79. page 39.--the reader is aware that the words _in medio_ of the early christian altars gave rise to the warmest disputes between the puritans and the catholics of the 17th century. the puritans insisted that they meant in the _body_ of the church: the catholics generally, and more particularly that most able defender of altars, dr. laurence, insisted that when the fathers spoke of an alter _in medio_, they only meant one so placed as to be where all might see it. the words undoubtedly may bear this meaning: yet perhaps it is better to understand them, as they must be understood in this passage of durandus, of an altar placed in the chord of the segment of a circle formed by the apse. see _ecclesiologist_, vol. ii, p. 13. page 46, note 20.--this is a mistake. the fresco alluded to represents a priest repeating the pater noster (which is written in his open book) at the n. w. angle of an altar. upon the altar are two candlesticks and a ciborium: rising out of the latter is the figure of our blessed lord. there can be no doubt of the objectionable nature of such a representation. page 54--the nimbus of the saviour, it is perhaps needless to observe in explanation, is always inlaid, as it were, with a cross: at least the exceptions are excessively rare. page 54--these 'carved figures' probably signify the corbels. page 54, note 54.--there is a valuable article on the nimbus by m. didron from the _revue générale de l'architecture_ in the _literary gazette_ for dec. 1842. an example is there given of the square nimbus in the case of pope nicholas, as represented in a contemporary ms. the whole is well worth reading. page 102.--dedication crosses. we have seen a valuable example of these in the church of moorlinch, somersetshire. there are four circles containing crosses pattées on the north and south sides of the chancel; and two at the east end, in all ten: the other two have disappeared. page 146.--the bodies of good men called horses. the same idea is worked out at great length in s. chrysostom's earlier homilies on the statues. {205} page 170.--but how great is the admiration, etc. compare s. hildebert's hymn, _exrta portam_, towards the conclusion: qauntum tui gratulentur, quam festive conviventur quis affectus eos stringat, et quae gemma muros pingat, quis chalcedon, quis jacintus, _norunt isti, quis sunt intus!_ the last line has the same beautiful turn with the expression of hugh of s. victor. page 180.--most of the following practices are observed to this day in the metropolitical church of seville. there are two ambones, but no rood loft: the sub-deacon chants the epistle by himself, in the southern ambo; the deacon, preceded by a taper, chants the gospel from the northern. page 182.--so s. bernard in his commentary on that verse of the 90th psalm, 'a thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand.' {206} {207} index abbots, how represented, 52 agathensian, the council, 45 agnus dei, the, 47 alexander, pope, 124 alphabet, inscription of, 98 allegory, 6 altar candlesticks, 58 altar rails, 26 altars, stripped on good friday, 61 altars, their consecration, 113 altars, why encircled seven times at consecration, 119 altare distinguished from ara, 34 anagoge, 7 analogium, _see_ rood loft angels, how represented, 47 antioch, council of, 197 antiphonal chanting, 21 apostles, the, how represented, 50 appodiatio, explained, 62 ark of testimony 35 its contents, 36 aries, fourth council of, 197 arnaldistae, 139 augustine, s., 49, 84, 85, 136, 152 basilica, 13 baruth, legend of, 89 bell rope, 74 bells, when first used, 71 what they signify, 72 silent, when, 196 bernard, s., 131, 139 beverstone church, 46 bishop, the consecration of a, 145 bishopstone, 19 black, when used, 194 boneface iv', pope, 94 breastplate, how made, 10 burchardus, s., 64 burial of heretics in cemeteries, 111 cambridge camden society, 85 cambridge, s. sepulchre, 55 cambridge, s. giles, 26 capella, whence derived, 14 carthage, council of, 158 cavilla, 74 cellar, 30 cement, its symbolism, 17 cemetery, 82 coenobium, 14 chalices, their materials, 68 chancels, lower than nave, 26 chancels, 175 chancel, more holy than nave, 20 chrism, 137 christmas, how churches are to be adorned at, 65 chrysologus, s. peter, 49 church, its meanings, 12 churches, when to be moved, 32 clement, s., of rome, 46 cloister, 29 cobham church, 46 cothelstone church, 54 cock, the, 165 commands, moral, 5 cone, 23 confessors, how represented, 52 consecration of a church, 88 constantine builds a church at jerusalem. 197 cosins, bishop, 154 {208} ciampini, 103, 126 cross, the sign of the, 188 cross triumphal, 28 cross churches, 21 crosses, the five, that mark an altar, 114 crypts, 22 curtains, of the tabernacle, 15 cymbalum, 77 dedication crosses, 98 degrees, songs of, 43 depulsare distinguished from compulsare, 78 derby, the earl of, 179 divine majesty, the, how represented, 53 division, of the whole work, 11 door, 24 dormitory, 30 dorsals, 56 dowsing, william, 26 dunstan, s., his form of dedication, 199 durandus, his many occupations, 161 dying, the, lay in sackcloth and ashes, 149 egleton church, 55 epiphany, what events celebrated thereon, 155 evangelistic symbols, 48 evaristus, pope, 158 exeter cathedral, 21 extreme unction, 139, 148 faustinus, s., his legend, 84 felix iii, pope, 89 ferculum, 28, 167 frescoes, 45 glass, 23 gospel, the, fixed on the altar, 60 why not read from the rood loft in a mass of requiem, 187 green, when used, 194 gregory, s., 54, 73, 75, 91, 152 greeks, the, how they paint saints, 43 haddenham, 14 henry, s., his shrine, 48 holy, distinguished from _sacred_, 81 horologium, 27 horses, the bodies of good men, why so called, 146 hours, the, explained, 75 hugh of s. victor, his 'mystical mirror' 163 human body, its resemblance to a church, 19 hyssop, its virtues, 95 idolatry, a protest against, 44 ingoldsby legends, their profanity, 84 isidore, s., 83, 137, 155, 156 jerusalem, its variety of significations, 8 rebuilt, 18 john, s., evangelist, his confessions, 38 journeys, the saviour's seven, 119 kilpeck church, 19 kyriake, 13 lateran, s. john, its altar to the west, 177 lattice-work, 23 litter, 34, 167 llandanwg church, 46 ludlow church, 21 lyons, council of, 41 machpelah, 83 mans, dedication of a church there, 198 marriages, when forbidden, 154 second, 159 martyrs, how represented, 52 martyrium, 14 mary, s., magdalene, 126 maundy thursday, 153 mende, 2 mirror of magistrates, 9 moleon, de, his 'voyage liturgique,' 67 montague, bishop, 31 murderers, limits of right of sanctuary. 32 mystical, its meaning, 5 nola, 77 nolula, 77 nimbus, the, 54 orientation, 19, 177, seq. orfrey, the, 59 ornaments of churches not to be profaned, 69 ostrich eggs, why hung in churches, 67 oxted church, 50 palmers, 52 paradise, how represented, 54 {209} parthian skins, 19 patriarchs, how represented, 51 pavement, 24 phylacterium, difference between it and phylacteria, 57 pictures, their use, 45 piers, 24 piscina, 27 pity, how five-fold, 130 podium, 85 portfolio, the, what it represents, 56 priests, unlettered, 4 allowed to consecrate churches, 16 prophets, how represented, 51 preston church, 54 prothesis, table of, 3 prynne, 21 pyx, the, 56 pulpit, 26 rationale, reason of the name, 10 reconciliation of a church, 107 reconsecration, when to be practised, 105 remigius monk, 201 relics required for the consecration of a church, 198 richard of cremona, 139 ring, the wedding, 156 ringing, various kinds of, 77 rod of weathercock, 23 rood loft, 26 turrets, two, common in norfolk, 180 round churches, 21 sacraments defined, 152 their nature, 2 sacramental, distinguished from ceremonial, 5 sugerius, 197 sambuca, the, 100 sanctuary, the, 20 saviour, our, various representations of, 46 savinianus, pope, 75 scarlet, when used, 189 scuta, the, 59 seal, the, of an altar, 105 second day, why it had no blessing. 79 senses of holy scripture, 5 separation of men and women, 30 signum, 77 sion, distinguished from jerusalem, 13 snuffers, the, 58 sacristy, 27 stalls, 25 squilla, 76 stephen, pope, 70 stones of a church, their symbolism, 17 sylvester, s., 139 synagogue never applied to a church, 13 te deum, method of chanting, 78 temple, aslackby church, 21 thiers, father, 26 tie-beams, 25 tiles, 27 toledo, council of, 41 tongs, the, 59 torrentius, laevinus, 189 towers, 22 treasures of the church, why exhibited, 66 unctions, 134 variety of rites, 8 veils, their various kinds, 61 vigilantius, 57 vigil, of the dedication of a church, 198 violet, when used, 193 virgins, difference between and continent, 20 how represented, 52 vladimir, s., his conversion, 55 walls, why four, 20 water, holy, 115, 171 weathercock, 22 white cloths cover the altar, why, 40 white, when used, 189 widford church, 46 women, their heads to be uncovered, 31 york, s. lawrence, 55 the nebuly coat, by john meade falkner. ________________________________________________________________________ this extraordinary book was acclaimed on its publication in 1903 as one of the very best books ever written in the english language. we have worked for this transcription from the first edition, which was given two printings, of which we used the second. there are not so many actors in the story that the reader is baffled, and each of them is beautifully drawn, so that their characters stand out clearly and consistently. it appears that the action of the story was set in the 1860s. there is a sudden death. was it a murder? it was recorded as an accidental death in the inquest. if it was a murder then who did it? there is one possibility, but it is unthinkable. through a very minor accident the whole situation becomes clear: the mystery is unravelled; the reasons for various earlier actions become known to us. from the very beginning of the book there is sustained tension, and our interest is kept with ever increasing intensity until we reach the extraordinary climax in the last words of the book. ________________________________________________________________________ the nebuly coat, by john meade falkner. prologue. sir george farquhar, baronet, builder of railway-stations, and institutes, and churches, author, antiquarian, and senior partner of farquhar and farquhar, leant back in his office chair and turned it sideways to give more point to his remarks. before him stood an understudy, whom he was sending to superintend the restoration work at cullerne minster. "well, good-bye, westray; keep your eyes open, and don't forget that you have an important job before you. the church is too big to hide its light under a bushel, and this society-for-the-conservation-of-national-inheritances has made up its mind to advertise itself at our expense. ignoramuses who don't know an aumbry from an abacus, charlatans, amateur faddists, they _will_ abuse our work. good, bad, or indifferent, it's all one to them; they are pledged to abuse it." his voice rang with a fine professional contempt, but he sobered himself and came back to business. "the south transept roof and the choir vaulting will want careful watching. there is some old trouble, too, in the central tower; and i should like later on to underpin the main crossing piers, but there is no money. for the moment i have said nothing about the tower; it is no use raising doubts that one can't set at rest; and i don't know how we are going to make ends meet, even with the little that it is proposed to do now. if funds come in, we must tackle the tower; but transept and choir-vaults are more pressing, and there is no risk from the bells, because the cage is so rotten that they haven't been rung for years. "you must do your best. it isn't a very profitable stewardship, so try to give as good an account of it as you can. we shan't make a penny out of it, but the church is too well known to play fast-and-loose with. i have written to the parson--a foolish old fellow, who is no more fit than a lady's-maid to be trusted with such a church as cullerne--to say you are coming to-morrow, and will put in an appearance at the church in the afternoon, in case he wishes to see you. the man is an ass, but he is legal guardian of the place, and has not done badly in collecting money for the restoration; so we must bear with him." chapter one. cullerne wharf of the ordnance maps, or plain cullerne as known to the countryside, lies two miles from the coast to-day; but it was once much nearer, and figures in history as a seaport of repute, having sent six ships to fight the armada, and four to withstand the dutch a century later. but in fulness of time the estuary of the cull silted up, and a bar formed at the harbour mouth; so that sea-borne commerce was driven to seek other havens. then the cull narrowed its channel, and instead of spreading itself out prodigally as heretofore on this side or on that, shrunk to the limits of a well-ordered stream, and this none of the greatest. the burghers, seeing that their livelihood in the port was gone, reflected that they might yet save something by reclaiming the salt-marshes, and built a stone dyke to keep the sea from getting in, with a sluice in the midst of it to let the cull out. thus were formed the low-lying meadows called cullerne flat, where the freemen have a right to pasture sheep, and where as good-tasting mutton is bred as on any _pre-sale_ on the other side of the channel. but the sea has not given up its rights without a struggle, for with a south-east wind and spring-tide the waves beat sometimes over the top of the dyke; and sometimes the cull forgets its good behaviour, and after heavy rainfalls inland breaks all bonds, as in the days of yore. then anyone looking out from upper windows in cullerne town would think the little place had moved back once more to the seaboard; for the meadows are under water, and the line of the dyke is scarcely broad enough to make a division in the view, between the inland lake and the open sea beyond. the main line of the great southern railway passes seven miles to the north of this derelict port, and converse with the outer world was kept up for many years by carriers' carts, which journeyed to and fro between the town and the wayside station of cullerne road. but by-and-by deputations of the corporation of cullerne, properly introduced by sir joseph carew, the talented and widely-respected member for that ancient borough, persuaded the railway company that better communication was needed, and a branch-line was made, on which the service was scarcely less primitive than that of the carriers in the past. the novelty of the railway had not altogether worn off at the time when the restorations of the church were entrusted to messrs. farquhar and farquhar; and the arrival of the trains was still attended by cullerne loungers as a daily ceremonial. but the afternoon on which westray came, was so very wet that there were no spectators. he had taken a third-class ticket from london to cullerne road to spare his pocket, and a first-class ticket from the junction to cullerne to support the dignity of his firm. but this forethought was wasted, for, except certain broken-down railway officials, who were drafted to cullerne as to an asylum, there were no witnesses of his advent. he was glad to learn that the enterprise of the blandamer arms led that family and commercial hotel to send an omnibus to meet all trains, and he availed himself the more willingly of this conveyance because he found that it would set him down at the very door of the church itself. so he put himself and his modest luggage inside--and there was ample room to do this, for he was the only passenger--plunged his feet into the straw which covered the floor, and endured for ten minutes such a shaking and rattling as only an omnibus moving over cobble-stones can produce. with the plans of cullerne minster mr westray was thoroughly familiar, but the reality was as yet unknown to him; and when the omnibus lumbered into the market-place, he could not suppress an exclamation as he first caught sight of the great church of saint sepulchre shutting in the whole south side of the square. the drenching rain had cleared the streets of passengers, and save for some peeping-toms who looked over the low green blinds as the omnibus passed, the place might indeed have been waiting for lady godiva's progress, all was so deserted. the heavy sheets of rain in the air, the misty water-dust raised by the drops as they struck the roofs, and the vapour steaming from the earth, drew over everything a veil invisible yet visible, which softened outlines like the gauze curtain in a theatre. through it loomed the minster, larger and far more mysteriously impressive than westray had in any moods imagined. a moment later the omnibus drew up before an iron gate, from which a flagged pathway led through the churchyard to the north porch. the conductor opened the carriage-door. "this is the church, sir," he said, somewhat superfluously. "if you get out here, i will drive your bag to the hotel." westray fixed his hat firmly on his head, turned up the collar of his coat, and made a dash through the rain for the door. deep puddles had formed in the worn places of the gravestones that paved the alley, and he splashed himself in his hurry before he reached the shelter of the porch. he pulled aside the hanging leather mattress that covered a wicket in the great door, and found himself inside the church. it was not yet four o'clock, but the day was so overcast that dusk was already falling in the building. a little group of men who had been talking in the choir turned round at the sound of the opening door, and made towards the architect. the protagonist was a clergyman past middle age, who wore a stock, and stepped forward to greet the young architect. "sir george farquhar's assistant, i presume. one of sir george farquhar's assistants i should perhaps say, for no doubt sir george has more than one assistant in carrying out his many and varied professional duties." westray made a motion of assent, and the clergyman went on: "let me introduce myself as canon parkyn. you will no doubt have heard of me from sir george, with whom i, as rector of this church, have had exceptional opportunities of associating. on one occasion, indeed, sir george spent the night under my own roof, and i must say that i think any young man should be proud of studying under an architect of such distinguished ability. i shall be able to explain to you very briefly the main views which sir george has conceived with regard to the restoration; but in the meantime let me make you known to my worthy parishioners--and friends," he added in a tone which implied some doubt as to whether condescension was not being stretched too far, in qualifying as friends persons so manifestly inferior. "this is mr sharnall, the organist, who under my direction presides over the musical portion of our services; and this is dr ennefer, our excellent local practitioner; and this is mr joliffe, who, though engaged in trade, finds time as churchwarden to assist me in the supervision of the sacred edifice." the doctor and the organist gave effect to the presentation by a nod, and something like a shrug of the shoulders, which deprecated the rector's conceited pomposity, and implied that if such an exceedingly unlikely contingency as their making friends with mr westray should ever happen, it would certainly not be due to any introduction of canon parkyn. mr joliffe, on the other hand, seemed fully to recognise the dignity to which he was called by being numbered among the rector's friends, and with a gracious bow, and a polite "your servant, sir," made it plain that he understood how to condescend in his turn, and was prepared to extend his full protection to a young and struggling architect. beside these leading actors, there were present the clerk, and a handful of walking-gentlemen in the shape of idlers who had strolled in from the street, and who were glad enough to find shelter from the rain, and an afternoon's entertainment gratuitously provided. "i thought you would like to meet me here," said the rector, "so that i might point out to you at once the more salient features of the building. sir george farquhar, on the occasion of his last visit, was pleased to compliment me on the lucidity of the explanations which i ventured to offer." there seemed to be no immediate way of escape, so westray resigned himself to the inevitable, and the little group moved up the nave, enveloped in an atmosphere of its own, of which wet overcoats and umbrellas were resolvable constituents. the air in the church was raw and cold, and a smell of sodden matting drew westray's attention to the fact that the roofs were not water-tight, and that there were pools of rain-water on the floor in many places. "the nave is the oldest part," said the cicerone, "built about 1135 by walter le bec." "i am very much afraid our friend is too young and inexperienced for the work here. what do _you_ think?" he put in as a rapid aside to the doctor. "oh, i dare say if you take him in hand and coach him a little he will do all right," replied the doctor, raising his eyebrows for the organist's delectation. "yes, this is all le bec's work," the rector went on, turning back to westray. "so sublime the simplicity of the norman style, is it not? the nave arcades will repay your close attention; and look at these wonderful arches in the crossing. norman, of course, but how light; and yet strong as a rock to bear the enormous weight of the tower which later builders reared on them. wonderful, wonderful!" westray recalled his chief's doubts about the tower, and looking up into the lantern saw on the north side a seam of old brick filling; and on the south a thin jagged fissure, that ran down from the sill of the lantern-window like the impress of a lightning-flash. there came into his head an old architectural saw, "the arch never sleeps"; and as he looked up at the four wide and finely-drawn semicircles they seemed to say: "the arch never sleeps, never sleeps. they have bound on us a burden too heavy to be borne. we are shifting it. the arch never sleeps." "wonderful, wonderful!" the rector still murmured. "daring fellows, these norman builders." "yes, yes," westray was constrained to say; "but they never reckoned that the present tower would be piled upon their arches." "what, _you_ think them a little shaky?" put in the organist. "well, i have fancied so, many a time, myself." "oh, i don't know. i dare say they will last our time," westray answered in a nonchalant and reassuring tone; for he remembered that, as regards the tower, he had been specially cautioned to let sleeping dogs lie, but he thought of the ossa heaped on pelion above their heads, and conceived a mistrust of the wide crossing-arches which he never was able entirely to shake off. "no, no, my young friend," said the rector with a smile of forbearance for so mistaken an idea, "do not alarm yourself about these arches. `mr rector,' said sir george to me the very first time we were here together, `you have been at cullerne forty years; have you ever observed any signs of movement in the tower?' `sir george,' i said, `will you wait for your fees until my tower tumbles down?' ha, ha, ha! he saw the joke, and we never heard anything more about the tower. sir george has, no doubt, given you all proper instructions; but as i had the privilege of personally showing him the church, you must forgive me if i ask you to step into the south transept for a moment, while i point out to you what sir george considered the most pressing matter." they moved into the transept, but the doctor managed to buttonhole westray for a moment _en route_. "you will be bored to death," he said, "with this man's ignorance and conceit. don't pay the least attention to him, but there _is_ one thing i want to take the first opportunity of pressing on you. whatever is done or not done, however limited the funds may be, let us at least have a sanitary floor. you must have all these stones up, and put a foot or two of concrete under them. can anything be more monstrous than that the dead should be allowed to poison the living? there must be hundreds of burials close under the floor, and look at the pools of water standing about. can anything, i say, be more insanitary?" they were in the south transept, and the rector had duly pointed out the dilapidations of the roof, which, in truth, wanted but little showing. "some call this the blandamer aisle," he said, "from a noble family of that name who have for many years been buried here." "_their_ vaults are, no doubt, in a most insanitary condition," interpolated the doctor. "these blandamers ought to restore the whole place," the organist said bitterly. "they would, if they had any sense of decency. they are as rich as croesus, and would miss pounds less than most people would miss pennies. not that i believe in any of this sanitary talk--things have gone on well enough as they are; and if you go digging up the floors you will only dig up pestilences. keep the fabric together, make the roofs water-tight, and spend a hundred or two on the organ. that is all we want, and these blandamers would do it, if they weren't curmudgeons and skinflints." "you will forgive me, mr sharnall," said the rector, "if i remark that an hereditary peerage is so important an institution, that we should be very careful how we criticise any members of it. at the same time," he went on, turning apologetically to westray, "there is perhaps a modicum of reason in our friend's remarks. i had hoped that lord blandamer would have contributed handsomely to the restoration fund, but he has not hitherto done so, though i dare say that his continued absence abroad accounts for some delay. he only succeeded his grandfather last year, and the late lord never showed much interest in this place, and was indeed in many ways a very strange character. but it's no use raking up these stories; the old man is gone, and we must hope for better things from the young one." "i don't know why you call him young," said the doctor. "he's young, maybe, compared to his grandfather, who died at eighty-five; but he must be forty, if he's a day." "oh, impossible; and yet i don't know. it was in my first year at cullerne that his father and mother were drowned. you remember that, mr sharnall--when the _corisande_ upset in pallion bay?" "ay, i mind that well enough," struck in the clerk; "and i mind their being married, becos' we wor ringing of the bells, when old mason parmiter run into the church, and says: `do'ant-'ee, boys--do'ant-'ee ring 'em any more. these yere old tower'll never stand it. i see him rock,' he says, `and the dust a-running out of the cracks like rain.' so out we come, and glad enough to stop it, too, because there wos a feast down in the meadows by the london road, and drinks and dancing, and we wanted to be there. that were two-and-forty years ago come lady day, and there was some shook their heads, and said we never ought to have stopped the ring, for a broken peal broke life or happiness. but what was we to do?" "did they strengthen the tower afterwards?" westray asked. "do you find any excessive motion when the peal is rung now?" "lor' bless you, sir; them bells was never rung for thirty years afore that, and wouldn't a been rung then, only tom leech, he says: `the ropes is there, boys; let's have a ring out of these yere tower. he ain't been rung for thirty year. none on us don't recollect the last time he _was_ rung, and if 'er were weak then, 'ers had plenty of time to get strong again, and there'll be half a crown a man for ringing of a peal.' so up we got to it, till old parmiter come in to stop us. and you take my word for it, they never have been rung since. there's only that rope there"--and he pointed to a bell-rope that came down from the lantern far above, and was fastened back against the wall--"wot we tolls the bell with for service, and that ain't the big bell neither." "did sir george farquhar know all this?" westray asked the rector. "no, sir; sir george did not know it," said the rector, with some tartness in his voice, "because it was not material that he should know it; and sir george's time, when he was here, was taken up with more pressing matters. i never heard this old wife's tale myself till the present moment, and although it is true that we do not ring the bells, this is on account of the supposed weakness of the cage in which they swing, and has nothing whatever to do with the tower itself. you may take my word for that. `sir george,' i said, when sir george asked me--`sir george, i have been here forty years, and if you will agree not to ask for your fees till my tower tumbles down, why, i shall be very glad.' ha, ha, ha! how sir george enjoyed that joke! ha, ha, ha!" westray turned away with a firm resolve to report to headquarters the story of the interrupted peal, and to make an early examination of the tower on his own behalf. the clerk was nettled that the rector should treat his story with such scant respect, but he saw that the others were listening with interest, and he went on: "well, 'taint for i to say the old tower's a-going to fall, and i hope sir jarge won't ever live to larf the wrong side o' his mouth; but stopping of a ring never brought luck with it yet, and it brought no luck to my lord. first he lost his dear son and his son's wife in cullerne bay, and i remember as if 'twas yesterday how we grappled for 'em all night, and found their bodies lying close together on the sand in three fathoms, when the tide set inshore in the morning. and then he fell out wi' my lady, and she never spoke to him again--no, not to the day of her death. they lived at fording--that's the great hall over there," he said to westray, jerking his thumb towards the east--"for twenty years in separate wings, like you mi'd say each in a house to themselves. and then he fell out wi' mr fynes, his grandson, and turned him out of house and lands, though he couldn't leave them anywhere else when he died. 'tis mr fynes as is the young lord now, and half his life he's bin a wandrer in foreign parts, and isn't come home yet. maybe he never will come back. it's like enough he's got killed out there, or he'd be tied to answer parson's letters. wouldn't he, mr sharnall?" he said, turning abruptly to the organist with a wink, which was meant to retaliate for the slight that the rector had put on his stories. "come, come; we've had enough of these tales," said the rector. "your listeners are getting tired." "the man's in love with his own voice," he added in a lower tone, as he took westray by the arm; "when he's once set off there's no stopping him. there are still a good many points which sir george and i discussed, and on which i shall hope to give you our conclusions; but we shall have to finish our inspection to-morrow, for this talkative fellow has sadly interrupted us. it is a great pity the light is failing so fast just now; there is some good painted glass in this end window of the transept." westray looked up and saw the great window at the end of the transept shimmering with a dull lustre; light only in comparison with the shadows that were falling inside the church. it was an insertion of perpendicular date, reaching from wall to wall, and almost from floor to roof. its vast breadth, parcelled out into eleven lights, and the infinite division of the stonework in the head, impressed the imagination; while mullions and tracery stood out in such inky contrast against the daylight yet lingering outside, that the architect read the scheme of subarcuation and the tracery as easily as if he had been studying a plan. sundown had brought no gleam to lift the pall of the dying day, but the monotonous grey of the sky was still sufficiently light to enable a practised eye to make out that the head of the window was filled with a broken medley of ancient glass, where translucent blues and yellows and reds mingled like the harmony of an old patchwork quilt. of the lower divisions of the window, those at the sides had no colour to clothe their nakedness, and remained in ghostly whiteness; but the three middle lights were filled with strong browns and purples of the seventeenth century. here and there in the rich colour were introduced medallions, representing apparently scriptural scenes, and at the top of each light, under the cusping, was a coat of arms. the head of the middle division formed the centre of the whole scheme, and seemed to represent a shield of silver-white crossed by waving sea-green bars. westray's attention was attracted by the unusual colouring, and by the transparency of the glass, which shone as with some innate radiance where all was dim. he turned almost unconsciously to ask whose arms were thus represented, but the rector had left him for a minute, and he heard an irritating "ha, ha, ha!" at some distance down the nave, that convinced him that the story of sir george farquhar and the postponed fees was being retold in the dusk to a new victim. someone, however, had evidently read the architect's thoughts, for a sharp voice said: "that is the coat of the blandamers--barry nebuly of six, argent and vert." it was the organist who stood near him in the deepening shadows. "i forgot that such jargon probably conveys no meaning to you, and, indeed, i know no heraldry myself excepting only this one coat of arms, and sometimes wish," he said with a sigh, "that i knew nothing of that either. there have been queer tales told of that shield, and maybe there are queerer yet to be told. it has been stamped for good or evil on this church, and on this town, for centuries, and every tavern loafer will talk to you about the `nebuly coat' as if it was a thing he wore. you will be familiar enough with it before you have been a week at cullerne." there was in the voice something of melancholy, and an earnestness that the occasion scarcely warranted. it produced a curious effect on westray, and led him to look closely at the organist; but it was too dark to read any emotion in his companion's face, and at this moment the rector rejoined them. "eh, what? ah, yes; the nebuly coat. nebuly, you know, from the latin _nebulum, nebulus_ i should say, a cloud, referring to the wavy outline of the bars, which are supposed to represent cumulus clouds. well, well, it is too dark to pursue our studies further this evening, but to-morrow i can accompany you the whole day, and shall be able to tell you much that will interest you." westray was not sorry that the darkness had put a stop to further investigations. the air in the church grew every moment more clammy and chill, and he was tired, hungry, and very cold. he was anxious, if possible, to find lodgings at once, and so avoid the expense of an hotel, for his salary was modest, and farquhar and farquhar were not more liberal than other firms in the travelling allowances which they granted their subordinates. he asked if anyone could tell him of suitable rooms. "i am sorry," the rector said, "not to be able to offer you the hospitality of my own house, but the indisposition of my wife unfortunately makes that impossible. i have naturally but a very slight acquaintance with lodging-houses or lodging-house keepers; but mr sharnall, i dare say, may be able to give you some advice. perhaps there may be a spare room in the house where mr sharnall lodges. i think your landlady is a relation of our worthy friend joliffe, is she not, mr sharnall? and no doubt herself a most worthy woman." "pardon, mr rector," said the churchwarden, in as offended a tone as he dared to employ in addressing so superior a dignitary--"pardon, no relation at all, i assure you. a namesake, or, at the nearest, a very distant connection of whom--i speak with all christian forbearance--my branch of the family have no cause to be proud." the organist had scowled when the rector was proposing westray as a fellow-lodger, but joliffe's disclaimer of the landlady seemed to pique him. "if no branch of your family brings you more discredit than my landlady, you may hold your head high enough. and if all the pork you sell is as good as her lodgings, your business will thrive. come along," he said, taking westray by the arm; "i have no wife to be indisposed, so i can offer you the hospitality of my house; and we will stop at mr joliffe's shop on our way, and buy a pound of sausages for tea." chapter two. there was a rush of outer air into the building as they opened the door. the rain still fell heavily, but the wind was rising, and had in it a clean salt smell, that contrasted with the close and mouldering atmosphere of the church. the organist drew a deep breath. "ah," he said, "what a blessed thing to be in the open air again--to be quit of all their niggling and naggling, to be quit of that pompous old fool the rector, and of that hypocrite joliffe, and of that pedant of a doctor! why does he want to waste money on cementing the vaults? it's only digging up pestilences; and they won't spend a farthing on the organ. not a penny on the _father smith_, clear and sweet-voiced as a mountain brook. oh," he cried, "it's too bad! the naturals are worn down to the quick, you can see the wood in the gutters of the keys, and the pedal-board's too short and all to pieces. ah well! the organ's like me--old, neglected, worn-out. i wish i was dead." he had been talking half to himself, but he turned to westray and said: "forgive me for being peevish; you'll be peevish, too, when you come to my age--at least, if you're as poor then as i am, and as lonely, and have nothing to look forward to. come along." they stepped out into the dark--for night had fallen--and plashed along the flagged path which glimmered like a white streamlet between the dark turves. "i will take you a short-cut, if you don't mind some badly-lighted lanes," said the organist, as they left the churchyard; "it's quicker, and we shall get more shelter." he turned sharply to the left, and plunged into an alley so narrow and dark that westray could not keep up with him, and fumbled anxiously in the obscurity. the little man reached up, and took him by the arm. "let me pilot you," he said; "i know the way. you can walk straight on; there are no steps." there was no sign of life, nor any light in the houses, but it was not till they reached a corner where an isolated lamp cast a wan and uncertain light that westray saw that there was no glass in the windows, and that the houses were deserted. "it's the old part of the town," said the organist; "there isn't one house in ten with anyone in it now. all we fashionables have moved further up. airs from the river are damp, you know, and wharves so very vulgar." they left the narrow street, and came on to what westray made out to be a long wharf skirting the river. on the right stood abandoned warehouses, square-fronted, and huddled together like a row of gigantic packing-cases; on the left they could hear the gurgle of the current among the mooring-posts, and the flapping of the water against the quay wall, where the east wind drove the wavelets up the river. the lines of what had once been a horse-tramway still ran along the quay, and the pair had some ado to thread their way without tripping, till a low building on the right broke the line of lofty warehouses. it seemed to be a church or chapel, having mullioned windows with stone tracery, and a bell-turret at the west end; but its most marked feature was a row of heavy buttresses which shored up the side facing the road. they were built of brick, and formed triangles with the ground and the wall which they supported. the shadows hung heavy under the building, but where all else was black the recesses between the buttresses were blackest. westray felt his companion's hand tighten on his arm. "you will think me as great a coward as i am," said the organist, "if i tell you that i never come this way after dark, and should not have come here to-night if i had not had you with me. i was always frightened as a boy at the very darkness in the spaces between the buttresses, and i have never got over it. i used to think that devils and hobgoblins lurked in those cavernous depths, and now i fancy evil men may be hiding in the blackness, all ready to spring out and strangle one. it is a lonely place, this old wharf, and after nightfall--" he broke off, and clutched westray's arm. "look," he said; "do you see nothing in the last recess?" his abruptness made westray shiver involuntarily, and for a moment the architect fancied that he discerned the figure of a man standing in the shadow of the end buttress. but, as he took a few steps nearer, he saw that he had been deceived by a shadow, and that the space was empty. "your nerves are sadly overstrung," he said to the organist. "there is no one there; it is only some trick of light and shade. what is the building?" "it was once a chantry of the grey friars," mr sharnall answered, "and afterwards was used for excise purposes when cullerne was a real port. it is still called the bonding-house, but it has been shut up as long as i remember it. do you believe in certain things or places being bound up with certain men's destinies? because i have a presentiment that this broken-down old chapel will be connected somehow or other with a crisis of my life." westray remembered the organist's manner in the church, and began to suspect that his mind was turned. the other read his thoughts, and said rather reproachfully: "oh no, i am not mad--only weak and foolish and very cowardly." they had reached the end of the wharf, and were evidently returning to civilisation, for a sound of music reached them. it came from a little beer-house, and as they passed they heard a woman singing inside. it was a rich contralto, and the organist stopped for a moment to listen. "she has a fine voice," he said, "and would sing well if she had been taught. i wonder how she comes here." the blind was pulled down, but did not quite reach the bottom of the window, and they looked in. the rain blurred the pains on the outside, and the moisture had condensed within, so that it was not easy to see clearly; but they made out that a creole woman was singing to a group of topers who sat by the fire in a corner of the room. she was middle-aged, but sang sweetly, and was accompanied on the harp by an old man: "oh, take me back to those i love! or bring them here to me! i have no heart to rove, to rove across the rolling sea." "poor thing!" said the organist; "she has fallen on bad days to have so scurvy a company to sing to. let us move on." they turned to the right, and came in a few minutes to the highroad. facing them stood a house which had once been of some pretensions, for it had a porch carried on pillars, under which a semicircular flight of steps led up to the double door. a street-lamp which stood before it had been washed so clean in the rain that the light was shed with unusual brilliance, and showed even at night that the house was fallen from its high estate. it was not ruinous, but _ichabod_ was written on the paintless window-frames and on the rough-cast front, from which the plaster had fallen away in more than one place. the pillars of the porch had been painted to imitate marble, but they were marked with scabrous patches, where the brick core showed through the broken stucco. the organist opened the door, and they found themselves in a stone-floored hall, out of which dingy doors opened on both sides. a broad stone staircase, with shallow steps and iron balustrades, led from the hall to the next story, and there was a little pathway of worn matting that threaded its way across the flags, and finally ascended the stairs. "here is my town house," said mr sharnall. "it used to be a coaching inn called the hand of god, but you must never breathe a word of that, because it is now a private mansion, and miss joliffe has christened it bellevue lodge." a door opened while he was speaking, and a girl stepped into the hall. she was about nineteen, and had a tall and graceful figure. her warm brown hair was parted in the middle, and its profusion was gathered loosely up behind in the half-formal, half-natural style of a preceding generation. her face had lost neither the rounded outline nor the delicate bloom of girlhood, but there was something in it that negatived any impression of inexperience, and suggested that her life had not been free from trouble. she wore a close-fitting dress of black, and had a string of pale corals round her neck. "good-evening, mr sharnall," she said. "i hope you are not very wet"-and gave a quick glance of inquiry at westray. the organist did not appear pleased at seeing her. he grunted testily, and, saying "where is your aunt? tell her i want to speak to her," led westray into one of the rooms opening out of the hall. it was a large room, with an upright piano in one corner, and a great litter of books and manuscript music. a table in the middle was set for tea; a bright fire was burning in the grate, and on either side of it stood a rush-bottomed armchair. "sit down," he said to westray; "this is my reception-room, and we will see in a minute what miss joliffe can do for _you_." he glanced at his companion, and added, "that was her niece we met in the passage," in so unconcerned a tone as to produce an effect opposite to that intended, and to lead westray to wonder whether there was any reason for his wishing to keep the girl in the background. in a few moments the landlady appeared. she was a woman of sixty, tall and spare, with a sweet and even distinguished face. she, too, was dressed in black, well-worn and shabby, but her appearance suggested that her thinness might be attributed to privation or self-denial, rather than to natural habit. preliminaries were easily arranged; indeed, the only point of discussion was raised by westray, who was disturbed by scruples lest the terms which miss joliffe offered were too low to be fair to herself. he said so openly, and suggested a slight increase, which, after some demur, was gratefully accepted. "you are too poor to have so fine a conscience," said the organist snappishly. "if you are so scrupulous now, you will be quite unbearable when you get rich with battening and fattening on this restoration." but he was evidently pleased with westray's consideration for miss joliffe, and added with more cordiality: "you had better come down and share my meal; your rooms will be like an ice-house such a night as this. don't be long, or the turtle will be cold, and the ortolans baked to a cinder. i will excuse evening dress, unless you happen to have your court suit with you." westray accepted the invitation with some willingness, and an hour later he and the organist were sitting in the rush-bottomed armchairs at either side of the fireplace. miss joliffe had herself cleared the table, and brought two tumblers, wine-glasses, sugar, and a jug of water, as if they were natural properties of the organist's sitting-room. "i did churchwarden joliffe an injustice," said mr sharnall, with the reflective mood that succeeds a hearty meal; "his sausages are good. put on some more coal, mr westray; it is a sinful luxury, a fire in september, and coal at twenty-five shillings a ton; but we must have _some_ festivity to inaugurate the restoration and your advent. fill a pipe yourself, and then pass me the tobacco." "thank you, i do not smoke," westray said; and, indeed, he did not look like a smoker. he had something of the thin, unsympathetic traits of the professional water-drinker in his face, and spoke as if he regarded smoking as a crime for himself, and an offence for those of less lofty principles than his own. the organist lighted his pipe, and went on: "this is an airy house--sanitary enough to suit our friend the doctor; every window carefully ventilated on the crack-and-crevice principle. it was an old inn once, when there were more people hereabouts; and if the rain beats on the front, you can still read the name through the colouring--the hand of god. there used to be a market held outside, and a century or more ago an apple-woman sold some pippins to a customer just before this very door. he said he had paid for them, and she said he had not; they came to wrangling, and she called heaven to justify her. `god strike me dead if i have ever touched your money!' she was taken at her word, and fell dead on the cobbles. they found clenched in her hand the two coppers for which she had lost her soul, and it was recognised at once that nothing less than an inn could properly commemorate such an exhibition of divine justice. so the hand of god was built, and flourished while cullerne flourished, and fell when cullerne fell. it stood empty ever since i can remember it, till miss joliffe took it fifteen years ago. she elevated it into bellevue lodge, a select boarding-house, and spent what little money that niggardly landlord old blandamer would give for repairs, in painting out the hand of god on the front. it was to be a house of resort for americans who came to cullerne. they say in our guide-book that americans come to see cullerne church because some of the pilgrim fathers' fathers are buried in it; but i've never seen any americans about. they never come to me; i have been here boy and man for sixty years, and never knew an american do a pennyworth of good to cullerne church; and they never did a pennyworth of good for miss joliffe, for none of them ever came to bellevue lodge, and the select boarding-house is so select that you and i are the only boarders." he paused for a minute and went on: "americans--no, i don't think much of americans; they're too hard for me--spend a lot of money on their own pleasure, and sometimes cut a dash with a big donation, where they think it will be properly trumpeted. but they haven't got warm hearts. i don't care for americans. still, if you know any about, you can say i am quite venal; and if any one of them restores my organ, i am prepared to admire the whole lot. only they must give a little water-engine for blowing it into the bargain. shutter, the organist of carisbury cathedral, has just had a water-engine put in, and, now we've got our own new waterworks at cullerne, we could manage it very well here too." the subject did not interest westray, and he flung back: "is miss joliffe very badly off?" he asked; "she looks like one of those people who have seen better days." "she is worse than badly off--i believe she is half starved. i don't know how she lives at all. i wish i could help her, but i haven't a copper myself to jingle on a tombstone, and she is too proud to take it if i had." he went to a cupboard in a recess at the back of the room, and took out a squat black bottle. "poverty's a chilly theme," he said; "let's take something to warm us before we go on with the variations." he pushed the bottle towards his friend, but, though westray felt inclined to give way, the principles of severe moderation which he had recently adopted restrained him, and he courteously waved away the temptation. "you're hopeless," said the organist. "what are we to do for you, who neither smoke nor drink, and yet want to talk about poverty? this is some _eau-de-vie_ old martelet the solicitor gave me for playing the wedding march at his daughter's marriage. `the wedding march was magnificently rendered by the organist, mr john sharnall,' you know, as if it was the fourth organ-sonata. i misdoubt this ever having paid duty; he's not the man to give away six bottles of anything he'd paid the excise upon." he poured out a portion of spirit far larger than westray had expected, and then, becoming intuitively aware of his companion's surprise, said rather sharply: "if you despise good stuff, i must do duty for us both. up to the top of the church windows is a good maxim." and he poured in yet more, till the spirit rose to the top of the cuts, which ran higher than half-way up the sides of the tumbler. there was silence for a few minutes, while the organist puffed testily at his pipe; but a copious draught from the tumbler melted his chagrin, and he spoke again: "i've had a precious hard life, but miss joliffe's had a harder; and i've got myself to thank for my bad luck, while hers is due to other people. first, her father died. he had a farm at wydcombe, and people thought he was well off; but when they came to reckon up, he only left just enough to go round among his creditors; so miss euphemia gave up the house, and came into cullerne. she took this rambling great place because it was cheap at twenty pounds a year, and lived, or half lived, from hand to mouth, giving her niece (the girl you saw) all the grains, and keeping the husks for herself. then a year ago turned up her brother martin, penniless and broken, with paralysis upon him. he was a harum-scarum ne'er-do-well. don't stare at me with that saul-among-the-prophets look; _he_ never drank; he would have been a better man if he had." and the organist made a further call on the squat bottle. "he would have given her less bother if he had drunk, but he was always getting into debt and trouble, and then used to come back to his sister, as to a refuge, because he knew she loved him. he was clever enough--brilliant they call it now--but unstable as water, with no lasting power. i don't believe he meant to sponge on his sister; i don't think he knew he did sponge, only he sponged. he would go off on his travels, no one knew where, though they knew well what he was seeking. sometimes he was away two months, and sometimes he was away two years; and then, when miss joliffe had kept anastasia--i mean her niece--all the time, and perhaps got a summer lodger, and seemed to be turning the corner, back would come martin again to beg money for debts, and eat them out of house and home. i've seen that many a time, and many a time my heart has ached for them; but what could i do to help? i haven't a farthing. last he came back a year ago, with death written on his face. i was glad enough to read it there, and think he was come for the last time to worry them; but it was paralysis, and he a strong man, so that it took that fool ennefer a long time to kill him. he only died two months ago; here's better luck to him where he's gone." the organist drank as deeply as the occasion warranted. "don't look so glum, man," he said; "i'm not always as bad as this, because i haven't always the means. old martelet doesn't give me brandy every day." westray smoothed away the deprecating expression with which he had felt constrained to discountenance such excesses, and set mr sharnall's tongue going again with a question: "what did you say joliffe used to go away for?" "oh, it's a long story; it's the nebuly coat again. i spoke of it in the church--the silver and sea-green that turned his head. he would have it he wasn't a joliffe at all, but a blandamer, and rightful heir to fording. as a boy, he went to cullerne grammar school, and did well, and got a scholarship at oxford. he did still better there, and just when he seemed starting strong in the race of life, this nebuly coat craze seized him and crept over his mind, like the paralysis that crept over his body later on." "i don't quite follow you," westray said. "why did he think he was a blandamer? did he not know who his father was?" "he was brought up as a son of old michael joliffe, a yeoman who died fifteen years ago. but michael married a woman who called herself a widow, and brought a three-year-old son ready-made to his wedding; and that son was martin. old michael made the boy his own, was proud of his cleverness, would have him go to college, and left him all he had. there was no talk of martin being anything but a joliffe till oxford puffed him up, and then he got this crank, and spent the rest of his life trying to find out who his father was. it was a forty-years' wandering in the wilderness; he found this clue and that, and thought at last he had climbed pisgah and could see the promised land. but he had to be content with the sight, or mirage i suppose it was, and died before he tasted the milk and honey." "what was his connection with the nebuly coat? what made him think he was a blandamer?" "oh, i can't go into that now," the organist said; "i have told you too much, perhaps, already. you won't let miss joliffe guess i have said anything, will you? she is michael joliffe's own child--his only child--but she loved her half-brother dearly, and doesn't like his cranks being talked about. of course, the cullerne wags had many a tale to tell of him, and when he came back, greyer each time and wilder-looking, from his wanderings, they called him `old nebuly,' and the boys would make their bow in the streets, and say `good-morning, lord blandamer.' you'll hear stories enough about him, and it was a bitter thing for his poor sister to bear, to see her brother a butt and laughing-stock, all the time that he was frittering away her savings. but it's all over now, and martin's gone where they don't wear nebuly coats." "there was nothing in his fancies, i suppose?" westray asked. "you must put that to wiser folk than me," said the organist lightly; "ask the rector, or the doctor, or some really clever man." he had fallen back into his sneering tone, but there was something in his words that recalled a previous doubt, and led westray to wonder whether mr sharnall had not lived so long with the joliffes as to have become himself infected with martin's delusions. his companion was pouring out more brandy, and the architect wished him good-night. mr westray's apartment was on the floor above, and he went at once to his bedroom; for he was very tired with his journey, and with standing so long in the church during the afternoon. he was pleased to find that his portmanteau had been unpacked, and that his clothes were carefully arranged in the drawers. this was a luxury to which he was little accustomed; there was, moreover, a fire to fling cheerful flickerings on spotlessly white curtains and bedlinen. miss joliffe and anastasia had between them carried the portmanteau up the great well-staircase of stone, which ran from top to bottom of the house. it was a task of some difficulty, and there were frequent pauses to take breath, and settings-down of the portmanteau to rest aching arms. but they got it up at last, and when the straps were undone miss euphemia dismissed her niece. "no, my dear," she said; "let _me_ set the things in order. it is not seemly that a young girl should arrange men's clothes. there was a time when i should not have liked to do so myself, but now i am so old it does not very much matter." she gave a glance at the mirror as she spoke, adjusted a little bit of grizzled hair which had strayed from under her cap, and tried to arrange the bow of ribbon round her neck so that the frayed part should be as far as possible concealed. anastasia joliffe thought, as she left the room, that there were fewer wrinkles and a sweeter look than usual in the old face, and wondered that her aunt had never married. youth looking at an old maid traces spinsterhood to man's neglect. it is so hard to read in sixty's plainness the beauty of sixteen--to think that underneath the placidity of advancing years may lie buried, yet unforgotten, the memory of suits urged ardently, and quenched long ago in tears. miss euphemia put everything carefully away. the architect's wardrobe was of the most modest proportions, but to her it seemed well furnished, and even costly. she noted, however, with the eye of a sportsman marking down a covey, sundry holes, rents, and missing buttons, and resolved to devote her first leisure to their rectification. such mending, in anticipation and accomplishment, forms, indeed, a well-defined and important pleasure of all properly constituted women above a certain age. "poor young man!" she said to herself. "i am afraid he has had no one to look after his clothes for a long time." and in her pity she rushed into the extravagance of lighting the bedroom fire. after things were arranged upstairs, she went down to see that all was in order in mr westray's sitting-room, and, as she moved about there, she heard the organist talking to the architect in the room below. his voice was so deep and raucous that it seemed to jar the soles of her feet. she dusted lightly a certain structure which, resting in tiers above the chimney-piece, served to surround a looking-glass with meaningless little shelves and niches. miss joliffe had purchased this piece-of-resistance when mrs cazel, the widow of the ironmonger, had sold her household effects preparatory to leaving cullerne. "it is an overmantel, my dear," she had said to dubious anastasia, when it was brought home. "i did not really mean to buy it, but i had not bought anything the whole morning, and the auctioneer looked so fiercely at me that i felt i must make a bid. then no one else said anything, so here it is; but i dare say it will serve to smarten the room a little, and perhaps attract lodgers." since then it had been brightened with a coat of blue enamel paint, and a strip of brusa silk which martin had brought back from one of his wanderings was festooned at the side, so as to hide a patch where the quicksilver showed signs of peeling off. miss joliffe pulled the festoon a little forward, and adjusted in one of the side niches a present-for-a-good-girl cup and saucer which had been bought for herself at beacon hill fair half a century ago. she wiped the glass dome that covered the basket of artificial fruit, she screwed up the "banner-screen" that projected from the mantelpiece, she straightened out the bead mat on which the stereoscope stood, and at last surveyed the room with an expression of complete satisfaction on her kindly face. an hour later westray was asleep, and miss joliffe was saying her prayers. she added a special thanksgiving for the providential direction to her house of so suitable and gentlemanly a lodger, and a special request that he might be happy whilst he should be under her roof. but her devotions were disturbed by the sound of mr sharnall's piano. "he plays most beautifully," she said to her niece, as she put out the candle; "but i wish he would not play so late. i am afraid i have not thought so earnestly as i should at my prayers." anastasia joliffe said nothing. she was grieved because the organist was thumping out old waltzes, and she knew by his playing that he had been drinking. chapter three. the hand of god stood on the highest point in all the borough, and mr westray's apartments were in the third story. from the window of his sitting-room he could look out over the houses on to cullerne flat, the great tract of salt-meadows that separated the town from the sea. in the foreground was a broad expanse of red-tiled roofs; in the middle distance saint sepulchre's church, with its tower and soaring ridges, stood out so enormous that it seemed as if every house in the place could have been packed within its walls; in the background was the blue sea. in summer the purple haze hangs over the mouth of the estuary, and through the shimmer of the heat off the marsh, can be seen the silver windings of the cull as it makes its way out to sea, and snow-white flocks of geese, and here and there the gleaming sail of a pleasure-boat. but in autumn, as westray saw it for the first time, the rank grass is of a deeper green, and the face of the salt-meadows is seamed with irregular clay-brown channels, which at high-tide show out like crows'-feet on an ancient countenance, but at the ebb dwindle to little gullies with greasy-looking banks and a dribble of iridescent water in the bottom. it is in the autumn that the moles heap up meanders of miniature barrows, built of the softest brown loam; and in the turbaries the turf-cutters pile larger and darker stacks of peat. once upon a time there was another feature in the view, for there could have been seen the masts and yards of many stately ships, of timber vessels in the baltic trade, of tea-clippers, and indiamen, and emigrant ships, and now and then the raking spars of a privateer owned by cullerne adventurers. all these had long since sailed for their last port, and of ships nothing more imposing met the eye than the mast of dr ennefer's centre-board laid up for the winter in a backwater. yet the scene was striking enough, and those who knew best said that nowhere in the town was there so fine an outlook as from the upper windows of the hand of god. many had looked out from those windows upon that scene: the skipper's wife as her eyes followed her husband's barque warping down the river for the voyage from which he never came back; honeymoon couples who broke the posting journey from the west at cullerne, and sat hand in hand in summer twilight, gazing seaward till the white mists rose over the meadows and venus hung brightening in the violet sky; old captain frobisher, who raised the cullerne yeomanry, and watched with his spy-glass for the french vanguard to appear; and, lastly, martin joliffe, as he sat dying day by day in his easy-chair, and scheming how he would spend the money when he should come into the inheritance of all the blandamers. westray had finished breakfast, and stood for a time at the open window. the morning was soft and fine, and there was that brilliant clearness in the air that so often follows heavy autumn rain. his full enjoyment of the scene was, however, marred by an obstruction which impeded free access to the window. it was a case of ferns, which seemed to be formed of an aquarium turned upside down, and supported by a plain wooden table. westray took a dislike to the dank-looking plants, and to the moisture beaded on the glass inside, and made up his mind that the ferns must be banished. he would ask miss joliffe if she could take them away, and this determination prompted him to consider whether there were any other articles of furniture with which it would be advisable to dispense. he made a mental inventory of his surroundings. there were several pieces of good mahogany furniture, including some open-backed chairs, and a glass-fronted book-case, which were survivals from the yeoman's equipment at wydcombe farm. they had been put up for auction with the rest of michael joliffe's effects, but cullerne taste considered them old-fashioned, and no bidders were found for them. many things, on the other hand, such as bead mats, and wool-work mats, and fluff mats, a case of wax fruit, a basket of shell flowers, chairs with worsted-work backs, sofa-cushions with worsted-work fronts, two cheap vases full of pampas-grass, and two candlesticks with dangling prisms, grated sadly on westray's taste, which he had long since been convinced was of all tastes the most impeccable. there were a few pictures on the walls--a coloured representation of young martin joliffe in black forest costume, a faded photograph of a boating crew, and another of a group in front of some ruins, which was taken when the carisbury field club made an expedition to wydcombe abbey. besides these, there were conventional copies in oils of a shipwreck, and an avalanche, and a painting of still-life representing a bowl full of flowers. this last picture weighed on westray's mind by reason of its size, its faulty drawing, and vulgar, flashy colours. it hung full in front of him while he sat at breakfast, and though its details amused him for the time, he felt it would become an eyesore if he should continue to occupy the room. in it was represented the polished top of a mahogany table on which stood a blue and white china bowl filled with impossible flowers. the bowl occupied one side of the picture, and the other side was given up to a meaningless expanse of table-top. the artist had perceived, but apparently too late, the bad balance of the composition, and had endeavoured to redress this by a few more flowers thrown loose upon the table. towards these flowers a bulbous green caterpillar was wriggling, at the very edge of the table, and of the picture. the result of westray's meditations was that the fern-case and the flower-picture stood entirely condemned. he would approach miss joliffe at the earliest opportunity about their removal. he anticipated little trouble in modifying by degrees many other smaller details, but previous experience in lodgings had taught him that the removal of pictures is sometimes a difficult and delicate problem. he opened his rolls of plans, and selecting those which he required, prepared to start for the church, where he had to arrange with the builder for the erection of scaffolding. he wished to order dinner before he left, and pulled a broad worsted-work bell-pull to summon his landlady. for some little time he had been aware of the sound of a fiddle, and as he listened, waiting for the bell to be answered, the intermittance and reiteration of the music convinced him that the organist was giving a violin lesson. his first summons remained unanswered, and when a second attempt met with no better success, he gave several testy pulls in quick succession. this time he heard the music cease, and made no doubt that his indignant ringing had attracted the notice of the musicians, and that the organist had gone to tell miss joliffe that she was wanted. he was ruffled by such want of attention, and when there came at last a knock at his door, was quite prepared to expostulate with his landlady on her remissness. as she entered the room, he began, without turning from his drawings: "never knock, please, when you answer the bell; but i do wish you--" here he broke off, for on looking up he found he was speaking, not to the elder miss joliffe, but to her niece anastasia. the girl was graceful, as he had seen the evening before, and again he noticed the peculiar fineness of her waving brown hair. his annoyance had instantaneously vanished, and he experienced to the full the embarrassment natural to a sensitive mind on finding a servant's role played by a lady, for that anastasia joliffe was a lady he had no doubt at all. instead of blaming her, he seemed to be himself in fault for having somehow brought about an anomalous position. she stood with downcast eyes, but his chiding tone had brought a slight flush to her cheeks, and this flush began a discomfiture for westray, that was turned into a rout when she spoke. "i am very sorry, i am afraid i have kept you waiting. i did not hear your bell at first, because i was busy in another part of the house, and then i thought my aunt had answered it. i did not know she was out." it was a low, sweet voice, with more of weariness in it than of humility. if he chose to blame her, she was ready to take the blame; but it was westray who now stammered some incoherent apologies. would she kindly tell miss joliffe that he would be in for dinner at one o'clock, and that he was quite indifferent as to what was provided for him. the girl showed some relief at his blundering courtesy, and it was not till she had left the room that westray recollected that he had heard that cullerne was celebrated for its red mullet; he had meant to order red mullet for dinner. now that he was mortifying the flesh by drinking only water, he was proportionately particular to please his appetite in eating. yet he was not sorry that he had forgotten the fish; it would surely have been a bathos to discuss the properties and application of red mullet with a young lady who found herself in so tragically lowly a position. after westray had set out for the church, anastasia joliffe went back to mr sharnall's room, for it was she who had been playing the violin. the organist sat at the piano, drumming chords in an impatient and irritated way. "well," he said, without looking at her as she came in--"well, what does my lord want with my lady? what has he made you run up to the top of the house for now? i wish i could wring his neck for him. here we are out of breath, as usual, and our hands shaking; we shan't be able to play even as well as we did before, and that isn't saying much. why," he cried, as he looked at her, "you're as red as a turkey-cock. i believe he's been making love to you." "mr sharnall," she retorted quickly, "if you say those things i will never come to your room again. i hate you when you speak like that, and fancy you are not yourself." she took her violin, and putting it under her arm, plucked arpeggi sharply. "there," he said, "don't take all i say so seriously; it is only because i am out of health and out of temper. forgive me, child; i know well enough that there'll be no lovemaking with you till the right man comes, and i hope he never will come, anastasia--i hope he never will." she did not accept or refuse his excuses, but tuned a string that had gone down. "good heavens!" he said, as she walked to the music-stand to play; "can't you hear the a's as flat as a pancake?" she tightened the string again without speaking, and began the movement in which they had been interrupted. but her thoughts were not with the music, and mistake followed mistake. "what _are_ you doing?" said the organist. "you're worse than you were when we began five years ago. it's mere waste of time for you to go on, and for me, too." then he saw that she was crying in the bitterness of vexation, and swung round on his music-stool without getting up. "anstice, i didn't mean it, dear. i didn't mean to be such a brute. you are getting on well--well; and as for wasting my time, why, i haven't got anything to do, nor anyone to teach except you, and you know i would slave all day and all night, too, if i could give you any pleasure by it. don't cry. why are you crying?" she laid the violin on the table, and sitting down in that rush-bottomed chair in which westray had sat the night before, put her head between her hands and burst into tears. "oh," she said between her sobs in a strange and uncontrolled voice--"oh, i am so miserable--_everything_ is so miserable. there are father's debts not paid, not even the undertaker's bill paid for his funeral, and no money for anything, and poor aunt euphemia working herself to death. and now she says she will have to sell the little things we have in the house, and then when there is a chance of a decent lodger, a quiet, gentlemanly man, you go and abuse him, and say these rude things to me, because he rings the bell. how does he know aunt is out? how does he know she won't let me answer the bell when she's in? of course, he thinks we have a servant, and then _you_ make me so sad. i couldn't sleep last night, because i knew you were drinking. i heard you when we went to bed playing trashy things that you hate except when you are not yourself. it makes me ill to think that you have been with us all these years, and been so kind to me, and now are come to this. oh, do not do it! surely we all are wretched enough, without your adding this to our wretchedness." he got up from the stool and took her hand. "don't, anstice--don't! i broke myself of it before, and i will break myself again. it was a woman drove me to it then, and sent me down the hill, and now i didn't know there was a living soul would care whether old sharnall drank himself to death or not. if i could only think there was someone who cared; if i could only think you cared." "of course i care"--and as she felt his hand tighten she drew her own lightly away--"of course we care--poor aunt and i--or she would care, if she knew, only she is so good she doesn't guess. i hate to see those horrid glasses taken in after your supper. it used to be so different, and i loved to hear the `pastoral' and `les adieux' going when the house was still." it is sad when man's unhappiness veils from him the smiling face of nature. the promise of the early morning was maintained. the sky was of a translucent blue, broken with islands and continents of clouds, dazzling white like cotton-wool. a soft, warm breeze blew from the west, the birds sang merrily in every garden bush, and cullerne was a town of gardens, where men could sit each under his own vine and fig-tree. the bees issued forth from their hives, and hummed with cheery droning chorus in the ivy-berries that covered the wall-tops with deep purple. the old vanes on the corner pinnacles of saint sepulchre's tower shone as if they had been regilt. great flocks of plovers flew wheeling over cullerne marsh, and flashed with a blinking silver gleam as they changed their course suddenly. even through the open window of the organist's room fell a shaft of golden sunlight that lit up the peonies of the faded, threadbare carpet. but inside beat two poor human hearts, one unhappy and one hopeless, and saw nothing of the gold vanes, or the purple ivy-berries, or the plovers, or the sunlight, and heard nothing of the birds or the bees. "yes, i will give it up," said the organist, though not quite so enthusiastically as before; and as he moved closer to anastasia joliffe, she got up and left the room, laughing as she went out. "i must get the potatoes peeled, or you will have none for dinner." mr westray, being afflicted neither with poverty nor age, but having a good digestion and entire confidence both in himself and in his prospects, could fully enjoy the beauty of the day. he walked this morning as a child of the light, forsaking the devious back-ways through which the organist had led him on the previous night, and choosing the main streets on his road to the church. he received this time a different impression of the town. the heavy rain had washed the pavements and roadway, and as he entered the market square he was struck with the cheerfulness of the prospect, and with the air of quiet prosperity which pervaded the place. on two sides of the square the houses overhung the pavement, and formed an arcade supported on squat pillars of wood. here were situated some of the best "establishments," as their owners delighted to call them. custance, the grocer; rose and storey, the drapers, who occupied the fronts of no less than three houses, and had besides a "department" round the corner "exclusively devoted to tailoring"; lucy, the bookseller, who printed the _cullerne examiner_, and had published several of canon parkyn's sermons, as well as a tractate by dr ennefer on the means adopted in cullerne for the suppression of cholera during the recent outbreak; calvin, the saddler; miss adcutt, of the toy-shop; and prior, the chemist, who was also postmaster. in the middle of the third side stood the blandamer arms, with a long front of buff, low green blinds, and window-sashes grained to imitate oak. at the edge of the pavement before the inn were some stone mounting steps, and by them stood a tall white pole, on which swung the green and silver of the nebuly coat itself. on either side of the blandamer arms clustered a few more modern shops, which, possessing no arcade, had to be content with awnings of brown stuff with red stripes. one of these places of business was occupied by mr joliffe, the pork-butcher. he greeted westray through the open window. "good-morning. about your work betimes, i see," pointing to the roll of drawings which the architect carried under his arm. "it is a great privilege, this restoration to which you are called," and here he shifted a chop into a more attractive position on the show-board--"and i trust blessing will attend your efforts. i often manage to snatch a few minutes from the whirl of business about mid-day myself, and seek a little quiet meditation in the church. if you are there then, i shall be glad to give you any help in my power. meanwhile, we must both be busy with our own duties." he began to turn the handle of a sausage-machine, and westray was glad to be quit of his pious words, and still more of his insufferable patronage. chapter four. the north side of cullerne church, which faced the square, was still in shadow, but, as westray stepped inside, he found the sunshine pouring through the south windows, and the whole building bathed in a flood of most mellow light. there are in england many churches larger than that of saint sepulchre, and fault has been found with its proportions, because the roof is lower than in some other conventual buildings of its size. yet, for all this, it is doubtful whether architecture has ever produced a composition more truly dignified and imposing. the nave was begun by walter le bec in 1135, and has on either side an arcade of low, round-headed arches. these arches are divided from one another by cylindrical pillars, which have no incised ornamentation, as at durham or waltham or lindisfarne, nor are masked with perpendicular work, as in the nave of winchester or in the choir of gloucester, but rely for effect on severe plainness and great diameter. above them is seen the dark and cavernous depth of the triforium, and higher yet the clerestory with minute and infrequent openings. over all broods a stone vault, divided across and diagonally by the chevron-mouldings of heavy vaulting-ribs. westray sat down near the door, and was so engrossed in the study of the building and in the strange play of the shafts of sunlight across the massive stonework, that half an hour passed before he rose to walk up the church. a solid stone screen separates the choir from the nave, making, as it were, two churches out of one; but as westray opened the doors between them, he heard four voices calling to him, and, looking up, saw above his head the four tower arches. "the arch never sleeps," cried one. "they have bound on us a burden too heavy to be borne," answered another. "we never sleep," said the third; and the fourth returned to the old refrain, "the arch never sleeps, never sleeps." as he considered them in the daylight, he wondered still more at their breadth and slenderness, and was still more surprised that his chief had made so light of the settlement and of the ominous crack in the south wall. the choir is a hundred and forty years later than the nave, ornate early english, with a multiplication of lancet-windows which rich hood-mouldings group into twos and threes, and at the east end into seven. here are innumerable shafts of dark-grey purbeck marble, elaborate capitals, deeply undercut foliage, and broad-winged angels bearing up the vaulting shafts on which rests the sharply-pointed roof. the spiritual needs of cullerne were amply served by this portion of the church alone, and, except at confirmations or on militia sunday, the congregation never overflowed into the nave. all who came to the minster found there full accommodation, and could indeed worship in much comfort; for in front of the canopied stalls erected by abbot vinnicomb in 1530 were ranged long rows of pews, in which green baize and brass nails, cushions and hassocks, and prayer-book boxes ministered to the devotion of the occupants. anybody who aspired to social status in cullerne rented one of these pews, but for as many as could not afford such luxury in their religion there were provided other seats of deal, which had, indeed, no baize or hassocks, nor any numbers on the doors, but were, for all that, exceedingly appropriate and commodious. the clerk was dusting the stalls as the architect entered the choir, and made for him at once as the hawk swoops on its quarry. westray did not attempt to escape his fate, and hoped, indeed, that from the old man's garrulity he might glean some facts of interest about the building, which was to be the scene of his work for many months to come. but the clerk preferred to talk of people rather than of things, and the conversation drifted by easy stages to the family with whom westray had taken up his abode. the doubt as to the joliffe ancestry, in the discussion of which mr sharnall had shown such commendable reticence, was not so sacred to the clerk. he rushed in where the organist had feared to tread, nor did westray feel constrained to check him, but rather led the talk to martin joliffe and his imaginary claims. "lor' bless you!" said the clerk, "i was a little boy myself when martin's mother runned away with the soldier, yet mind well how it was in everybody's mouth. but folks in cullerne like novelties; it's all old-world talk now, and there ain't one perhaps, beside me and rector, could tell you _that_ tale. sophia flannery her name was when farmer joliffe married her, and where he found her no one knew. he lived up at wydcombe farm, did michael joliffe, where his father lived afore him, and a gay one he was, and dressed in yellow breeches and a blue waistcoat all his time. well, one day he gave out he was to be married, and came into cullerne, and there was sophia waiting for him at the blandamer arms, and they were married in this very church. she had a three-year-old boy with her then, and put about she was a widow, though there were many who thought she couldn't show her marriage lines if she'd been asked for them. but p'raps farmer joliffe never asked to see 'em, or p'raps he knew all about it. a fine upstanding woman she was, with a word and a laugh for everyone, as my father told me many a time; and she had a bit of money beside. every quarter, up she'd go to london town to collect her rents, so she said, and every time she'd come back with terrible grand new clothes. she dressed that fine, and had such a way with her, the people called her queen of wydcombe. wherever she come from, she had a boarding-school education, and could play and sing beautiful. many a time of a summer evening we lads would walk up to wydcombe, and sit on the fence near the farm, to hear sophy a-singing through the open window. she'd a pianoforty, too, and would sing powerful long songs about captains and moustachers and broken hearts, till people was nearly fit to cry over it. and when she wasn't singing she was painting. my old missis had a picture of flowers what she painted, and there was a lot more sold when they had to give up the farm. but miss joliffe wouldn't part with the biggest of 'em, though there was many would ha' liked to buy it. no, she kep' that one, and has it by her to this day--a picture so big as a signboard, all covered with flowers most beautiful." "yes, i've seen that," westray put in; "it's in my room at miss joliffe's." he said nothing about its ugliness, or that he meant to banish it, not wishing to wound the narrator's artistic susceptibilities, or to interrupt a story which began to interest him in spite of himself. "well, to be sure!" said the clerk, "it used to hang in the best parlour at wydcombe over the sideboard; i seed'n there when i was a boy, and my mother was helping spring-clean up at the farm. `look, tom,' my mother said to me, `did 'ee ever see such flowers? and such a pritty caterpillar a-going to eat them!' you mind, a green caterpillar down in the corner." westray nodded, and the clerk went on: "`well, mrs joliffe,' says my mother to sophia, `i never want for to see a more beautiful picture than that.' and sophia laughed, and said my mother know'd a good picture when she saw one. some folks 'ud stand her out, she said, that 'tweren't worth much, but she knew she could get fifty or a hundred pound or more for't any day she liked to sell, if she took it to the right people. _then_ she'd soon have the laugh of those that said it were only a daub; and with that she laughed herself, for she were always laughing and always jolly. "michael were well pleased with his strapping wife, and used to like to see the people stare when he drove her into cullerne market in the high cart, and hear her crack jokes with the farmers what they passed on the way. very proud he was of her, and prouder still when one saturday he stood all comers glasses round at the blandamer, and bid 'em drink to a pritty little lass what his wife had given him. now he'd got a brace of 'em, he said; for he'd kep' that other little boy what sophia brought when she married him, and treated the child for all the world as if he was his very son. "so 'twas for a year or two, till the practice-camp was put up on wydcombe down. i mind that summer well, for 'twere a fearful hot one, and joey garland and me taught ourselves to swim in the sheep-wash down in mayo's meads. and there was the white tents all up the hillside, and the brass band a-playing in the evenings before the officers' dinner-tent. and sometimes they would play sunday afternoons too; and parson were terrible put about, and wrote to the colonel to say as how the music took the folk away from church, and likened it to the worship of the golden calf, when `the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up again to play.' but colonel never took no notice of it, and when 'twas a fine evening there was a mort of people trapesing over the downs, and some poor lasses wished afterwards they'd never heard no music sweeter than the clar'net and bassoon up in the gallery of wydcombe church. "sophia was there, too, a good few times, walking round first on her husband's arm, and afterwards on other people's; and some of the boys said they had seen her sitting with a redcoat up among the juniper-bushes. 'twas michaelmas eve before they moved the camp, and 'twas a sorry goose was eat that michaelmas day at wydcombe farm; for when the soldiers went, sophia went too, and left michael and the farm and the children, and never said good-bye to anyone, not even to the baby in the cot. 'twas said she ran off with a sergeant, but no one rightly knew; and if farmer joliffe made any search and found out, he never told a soul; and she never come back to wydcombe. "she never come back to wydcombe," he said under his breath, with something that sounded like a sigh. perhaps the long-forgotten break-up of farmer joliffe's home had touched him, but perhaps he was only thinking of his own loss, for he went on: "ay, many's the time she would give a poor fellow an ounce of baccy, and many's the pound of tea she sent to a labourer's cottage. if she bought herself fine clothes, she'd give away the old ones; my missis has a fur tippet yet that her mother got from sophy joliffe. she was free with her money, whatever else she mid have been. there wasn't a labourer on the farm but what had a good word for her; there wasn't one was glad to see her back turned. "poor michael took on dreadful at the first, though he wasn't the man to say much. he wore his yellow breeches and blue waistcoat just the same, but lost heart for business, and didn't go to market so reg'lar as he should. only he seemed to stick closer by the children--by martin that never know'd his father, and little phemie that never know'd her mother. sophy never come back to visit 'em by what i could learn; but once i seed her myself twenty years later, when i took the hosses over to sell at beacon hill fair. "that was a black day, too, for 'twas the first time michael had to raise the wind by selling aught of his'n. he'd got powerful thin then, had poor master, and couldn't fill the blue waistcoat and yellow breeches like he used to, and _they_ weren't nothing so gay by then themselves neither. "`tom,' he said--that's me, you know--`take these here hosses over to beacon hill, and sell 'em for as much as 'ee can get, for i want the money.' "`what, sell the best team, dad!' says miss phemie--for she was standing by--`you'll never sell the best team with white-face and old strike-a-light!' and the hosses looked up, for they know'd their names very well when she said 'em. "`don't 'ee take on, lass,' he said; `we'll buy 'em back again come lady day.' "and so i took 'em over, and knew very well why he wanted the money; for mr martin had come back from oxford, wi' a nice bit of debt about his neck, and couldn't turn his hand to the farm, but went about saying he was a blandamer, and fording and all the lands belonged to he by right. 'quiries he was making, he said, and gadded about here and there, spending a mort of time and money in making 'quiries that never came to nothing. 'twas a black day, that day, and a thick rain falling at beacon hill, and all the turf cut up terrible. the poor beasts was wet through, too, and couldn't look their best, because they knowed they was going to be sold; and so the afternoon came, and never a bid for one of 'em. `poor old master!' says i to the horses, `what'll 'ee say when we get back again?' and yet i was glad-like to think me and they weren't going to part. "well, there we was a-standing in the rain, and the farmers and the dealers just give us a glimpse, and passed by without a word, till i see someone come along, and that was sophia joliffe. she didn't look a year older nor when i met her last, and her face was the only cheerful thing we saw that afternoon, as fresh and jolly as ever. she wore a yellow mackintosh with big buttons, and everybody turned to measure her up as she passed. there was a horse-dealer walking with her, and when the people stared, he looked at her just so proud as michael used to look when he drove her in to cullerne market. she didn't take any heed of the hosses, but she looked hard at me, and when she was passed turned her head to have another look, and then she come back. "`bain't you tom janaway,' says she, `what used to work up to wydcombe farm?' "`ay, that i be,' says i, but stiff-like, for it galled me to think what she'd a-done for master, and yet could look so jolly with it all. "she took no note that i were glum, but `whose hosses is these?' she asked. "`your husband's, mum,' i made bold to say, thinking to take her down a peg. but, lor'! she didn't care a rush for that, but `which o' my husbands?' says she, and laughed fit to bust, and poked the horse-dealer in the side. he looked as if he'd like to throttle her, but she didn't mind that neither. `what for does michael want to sell his hosses?' "and then i lost my pluck, and didn't think to humble her any more, but just told her how things was, and how i'd stood the blessed day, and never got a bid. she never asked no questions, but i see her eyes twinkle when i spoke of master martin and miss phemie; and then she turned sharp to the horse-dealer and said: "`john, these is fine horses; you buy these cheap-like, and we can sell 'em again to-morrow.' "then he cursed and swore, and said the hosses was old scraws, and he'd be damned afore he'd buy such hounds'-meat. "`john,' says she, quite quiet, `'tain't polite to swear afore ladies. these here is good hosses, and i want you to buy 'em.' "then he swore again, but she'd got his measure, and there was a mighty firm look in her face, for all she laughed so; and by degrees he quieted down and let her talk. "`how much do you want for the four of 'em, young man?' she says; and i had a mind to say eighty pounds, thinking maybe she'd rise to that for old times' sake, but didn't like to say so much for fear of spoiling the bargain. `come,' she says, `how much? art thou dumb? well, if thou won't fix the price, i'll do it for 'ee. here, john, you bid a hundred for this lot.' "he stared stupid-like, but didn't speak. "then she look at him hard. "`you've got to do it,' she says, speaking low, but very firm; and out he comes with, `here, i'll give 'ee a hundred.' but before i had time to say `done,' she went on: `no--this young man says no; i can see it in his face; he don't think 'tis enough; you try him with a hundred and twenty.' "'twas as if he were overlooked, for he says quite mild, `well, i'll give 'ee a hundred and twenty.' "`ay, that's better,' says she; `he says that's better.' and she takes out a little leather wallet from her bosom, holding it under the flap of her waterproof so that the rain shouldn't get in, and counts out two dozen clean banknotes, and puts 'em into my hand. there was many more where they come from, for i could see the book was full of 'em; and when she saw my eyes on them, she takes out another, and gives it me, with, `there's one for thee, and good luck to 'ee; take that, and buy a fairing for thy sweetheart, tom janaway, and never say sophy flannery forgot an old friend.' "`thank 'ee kindly, mum,' says i; `thank 'ee kindly, and may you never miss it! i hope your rents do still come in reg'lar, mum.' "she laughed out loud, and said there was no fear of that; and then she called a lad, and he led off white-face and strike-a-light and jenny and the cutler, and they was all gone, and the horse-dealer and sophia, afore i had time to say good-night. she never come into these parts again--at least, i never seed her; but i heard tell she lived a score of years more after that, and died of a broken blood-vessel at beriton races." he moved a little further down the choir, and went on with his dusting; but westray followed, and started him again. "what happened when you got back? you haven't told me what farmer joliffe said, nor how you came to leave farming and turn clerk." the old man wiped his forehead. "i wasn't going to tell 'ee that," he said, "for it do fair make i sweat still to think o' it; but you can have it if you like. well, when they was gone, i was nigh dazed with such a stroke o' luck, and said the lord's prayer to see i wasn't dreaming. but 'twas no such thing, and so i cut a slit in the lining of my waistcoat, and dropped the notes in, all except the one she give me for myself, and that i put in my fob-pocket. 'twas getting dark, and i felt numb with cold and wet, what with standing so long in the rain and not having bite nor sup all day. "'tis a bleak place, beacon hill, and 'twas so soft underfoot that day the water'd got inside my boots, till they fair bubbled if i took a step. the rain was falling steady, and sputtered in the naphtha-lamps that they was beginning to light up outside the booths. there was one powerful flare outside a long tent, and from inside there come a smell of fried onions that made my belly cry `please, master, please!' "`yes, my lad,' i said to un, `i'm darned if i don't humour 'ee; thou shan't go back to wydcombe empty.' so in i step, and found the tent mighty warm and well lit, with men smoking and women laughing, and a great smell of cooking. there were long tables set on trestles down the tent, and long benches beside 'em, and folks eating and drinking, and a counter cross the head of the room, and great tin dishes simmering a-top of it--trotters and sausages and tripe, bacon and beef and colliflowers, cabbage and onions, blood-puddings and plum-duff. it seemed like a chance to change my banknote, and see whether 'twere good and not elf-money that folks have found turn to leaves in their pocket. so up i walks, and bids 'em gie me a plate of beef and jack-pudding, and holds out my note for't. the maid--for 'twas a maid behind the counter--took it, and then she looks at it and then at me, for i were very wet and muddy; and then she carries it to the gaffer, and he shows it to his wife, who holds it up to the light, and then they all fall to talking, and showed it to a 'cise-man what was there marking down the casks. "the people sitting nigh saw what was up, and fell to staring at me till i felt hot enough, and lief to leave my note where 'twas, and get out and back to wydcombe. but the 'cise-man must have said 'twere all right, for the gaffer comes back with four gold sovereigns and nineteen shillings, and makes a bow and says: "`your servant, sir; can i give you summat to drink?' "i looked round to see what liquor there was, being main glad all the while to find the note were good; and he says: "`rum and milk is very helping, sir; try the rum and milk hot.' "so i took a pint of rum and milk, and sat down at the nighest table, and the people as were waiting to see me took up, made room now, and stared as if i'd been a lord. i had another plate o' beef, and another rum-and-milk, and then smoked a pipe, knowing they wouldn't make no bother of my being late that night at wydcombe, when i brought back two dozen banknotes. "the meat and drink heartened me, and the pipe and the warmth of the tent seemed to dry my clothes and take away the damp, and i didn't feel the water any longer in my boots. the company was pleasant, too, and some very genteel dealers sitting near. "`my respec's to you, sir,' says one, holding up his glass to me--`best respec's. these pore folk isn't used to the flimsies, and was a bit surprised at your paper-money; but directly i see you, i says to my friends, "mates, that gentleman's one of us; that's a monied man, if ever i see one." i knew you for a gentleman the minute you come in.' "so i was flattered like, and thought if they made so much o' one banknote, what'd they say to know i'd got a pocket full of them? but didn't speak nothing, only chuckled a bit to think i could buy up half the tent if i had a mind to. after that i stood 'em drinks, and they stood me, and we passed a very pleasant evening--the more so because when we got confidential, and i knew they were men of honour, i proved that i was worthy to mix with such by showing 'em i had a packet of banknotes handy. they drank more respec's, and one of them said as how the liquor we were swallowing weren't fit for such a gentleman as me; so he took a flask out o' his pocket, and filled me a glass of his own tap, what his father 'ud bought in the same year as waterloo. 'twas powerful strong stuff that, and made me blink to get it down; but i took it with a good face, not liking to show i didn't know old liquor when it come my way. "so we sat till the tent was very close, and them hissing naphtha-lamps burnt dim with tobacco-smoke. 'twas still raining outside, for you could hear the patter heavy on the roof; and where there was a belly in the canvas, the water began to come through and drip inside. there was some rough talking and wrangling among folk who had been drinking; and i knew i'd had as much as i could carry myself, 'cause my voice sounded like someone's else, and i had to think a good bit before i could get out the words. 'twas then a bell rang, and the 'size-man called out, `closing time,' and the gaffer behind the counter said, `now, my lads, good-night to 'ee; hope the fleas won't bite 'ee. god save the queen, and give us a merry meeting to-morrow.' so all got up, and pulled their coats over their ears to go out, except half a dozen what was too heavy, and was let lie for the night on the grass under the trestles. "i couldn't walk very firm myself, but my friends took me one under each arm; and very kind of them it was, for when we got into the open air, i turned sleepy and giddy-like. i told 'em where i lived to, and they said never fear, they'd see me home, and knew a cut through the fields what'd take us to wydcombe much shorter. we started off, and went a bit into the dark; and then the very next thing i know'd was something blowing in my face, and woke up and found a white heifer snuffing at me. 'twas broad daylight, and me lying under a hedge in among the cuckoo-pints. i was wet through, and muddy (for 'twas a loamy ditch), and a bit dazed still, and sore ashamed; but when i thought of the bargain i'd made for master, and of the money i'd got in my waistcoat, i took heart, and reached in my hand to take out the notes, and see they weren't wasted with the wet. "but there was no notes there--no, not a bit of paper, for all i turned my waistcoat inside out, and ripped up the lining. 'twas only half a mile from beacon hill that i was lying, and i soon made my way back to the fair-ground, but couldn't find my friends of the evening before, and the gaffer in the drinking-tent said he couldn't remember as he'd ever seen any such. i spent the livelong day searching here and there, till the folks laughed at me, because i looked so wild with drinking the night before, and with sleeping out, and with having nothing to eat; for every penny was took from me. i told the constable, and he took it all down, but i see him looking at me the while, and at the torn lining hanging out under my waistcoat, and knew he thought 'twas only a light tale, and that i had the drink still in me. 'twas dark afore i give it up, and turned to go back. "'tis seven mile good by the nigh way from beacon hill to wydcombe; and i was dog-tired, and hungry, and that shamed i stopped a half-hour on the bridge over proud's mill-head, wishing to throw myself in and ha' done with it, but couldn't bring my mind to that, and so went on, and got to wydcombe just as they was going to bed. they stared at me, farmer michael, and master martin, and miss phemie, as if i was a spirit, while i told my tale; but i never said as how 'twas sophia joliffe as had bought the horses. old michael, he said nothing, but had a very blank look on his face, and miss phemie was crying; but master martin broke out saying 'twas all make-up, and i'd stole the money, and they must send for a constable. "`'tis lies,' he said. `this fellow's a rogue, and too great a fool even to make up a tale that'll hang together. who's going to believe a woman 'ud buy the team, and give a hundred and twenty pounds in notes for hosses that 'ud be dear at seventy pounds? who was the woman? did 'ee know her? there must be many in the fair 'ud know such a woman. they ain't so common as go about with their pockets full of banknotes, and pay double price for hosses what they buy.' "i knew well enough who'd bought 'em, but didn't want to give her name for fear of grieving farmer joliffe more nor he was grieved already, so said nothing, but held my peace. "then the farmer says: `tom, i believe 'ee; i've know'd 'ee thirty year, and never know'd 'ee tell a lie, and i believe 'ee now. but if thou knows her name, tell it us, and if thou doesn't know, tell us what she looked like, and maybe some of us 'll guess her.' "but still i didn't say aught till master martin goes on: "`out with her name. he must know her name right enough, if there ever was a woman as did buy the hosses; and don't you be so soft, father, as to trust such fool's tales. we'll get a constable for 'ee. out with her name, i say.' "then i was nettled like, at his speaking so rough, when the man that suffered had forgiven me, and said: "`yes, i know her name right enough, if 'ee will have it. 'twas the missis.' "`missis?' he says; `what missis?' "`your mother,' says i. `she was with a man, but he weren't the man she runned away from here with, and she made he buy the team.' "master martin didn't say any more, and miss phemie went on crying; but there was a blanker look come on old master's face, and he said very quiet: "`there, that'll do, lad. i believe 'ee, and forgive thee. don't matter much to i now if i have lost a hundred pound. 'tis only my luck, and if 'tweren't lost there, 'twould just as like be lost somewhere else. go in and wash thyself, and get summat to eat; and if i forgive 'ee this time, don't 'ee ever touch the drink again.' "`master,' i says, `i thank 'ee, and if i ever get a bit o' money i'll pay thee back what i can; and there's my sacred word i'll never touch the drink again.' "i held him out my hand, and he took it, for all 'twas so dirty. "`that's right, lad; and to-morrow we'll put the p'leece on to trace them fellows down.' "i kep' my promise, mr--mr--mr--" "westray," the architect suggested. "i didn't know your name, you see, because rector never introduced _me_ yesterday. i kep' my promise, mr westray, and bin teetotal ever since; but he never put the p'leece on the track, for he was took with a stroke next morning early, and died a fortnight later. they laid him up to wydcombe nigh his father and his grandfather, what have green rails round their graves; and give his yellow breeches and blue waistcoat to timothy foord the shepherd, and he wore them o' sundays for many a year after that. i left farming the same day as old master was put underground, and come into cullerne, and took odd jobs till the sexton fell sick, and then i helped dig graves; and when he died they made i sexton, and that were forty years ago come whitsun." "did martin joliffe keep on the farm after his father's death?" westray asked, after an interval of silence. they had wandered along the length of the stalls as they talked, and were passing through the stone screen which divides the minster into two parts. the floor of the choir at cullerne is higher by some feet than that of the rest of the church, and when they stood on the steps which led down into the nave, the great length of the transepts opened before them on either side. the end of the north transept, on the outside of which once stood the chapter-house and dormitories of the monastery, has only three small lancet-windows high up in the wall, but at the south end of the cross-piece there is no wall at all, for the whole space is occupied by abbot vinnicomb's window, with its double transoms and infinite subdivisions of tracery. thus is produced a curious contrast, for, while the light in the rest of the church is subdued to sadness by the smallness of the windows, and while the north transept is the most sombre part of all the building, the south transept, or blandamer aisle, is constantly in clear daylight. moreover, while the nave is of the norman style, and the transepts and choir of the early english, this window is of the latest perpendicular, complicated in its scheme, and meretricious in the elaboration of its detail. the difference is so great as to force itself upon the attention even of those entirely unacquainted with architecture, and it has naturally more significance for the professional eye. westray stood a moment on the steps as he repeated his question: "did martin keep on the farm?" "ay, he kep' it on, but he never had his heart in it. miss phemie did the work, and would have been a better farmer than her father, if martin had let her be; but he spent a penny for every ha'penny she made, till all came to the hammer. oxford puffed him up, and there was no one to check him; so he must needs be a gentleman, and give himself all kinds of airs, till people called him `gentleman joliffe,' and later on `old neb'ly' when his mind was weaker. 'twas that turned his brain," said the sexton, pointing to the great window; "'twas the silver and green what done it." westray looked up, and in the head of the centre light saw the nebuly coat shining among the darker painted glass with a luminosity which was even more striking in daylight than in the dusk of the previous evening. chapter five. after a week's trial, westray made up his mind that miss joliffe's lodgings would suit him. it was true that the hand of god was somewhat distant from the church, but, then, it stood higher than the rest of the town, and the architect's fads were not confined to matters of eating and drinking, but attached exaggerated importance to bracing air and the avoidance of low-lying situations. he was pleased also by the scrupulous cleanliness pervading the place, and by miss joliffe's cooking, which a long experience had brought to some perfection, so far as plain dishes were concerned. he found that no servant was kept, and that miss joliffe never allowed her niece to wait at table, so long as she herself was in the house. this occasioned him some little inconvenience, for his naturally considerate disposition made him careful of overtaxing a landlady no longer young. he rang his bell with reluctance, and when he did so, often went out on to the landing and shouted directions down the well-staircase, in the hopes of sparing any unnecessary climbing of the great nights of stone steps. this consideration was not lost upon miss joliffe, and westray was flattered by an evident anxiety which she displayed to retain him as a lodger. it was, then, with a proper appreciation of the favour which he was conferring, that he summoned her one evening near teatime, to communicate to her his intention of remaining at bellevue lodge. as an outward and visible sign of more permanent tenure, he decided to ask for the removal of some of those articles which did not meet his taste, and especially of the great flower-picture that hung over the sideboard. miss joliffe was sitting in what she called her study. it was a little apartment at the back of the house (once the still-room of the old inn), to which she retreated when any financial problem had to be grappled. such problems had presented themselves with unpleasant frequency for many years past, and now her brother's long illness and death brought about something like a crisis in the weary struggle to make two and two into five. she had spared him no luxury that illness is supposed to justify, nor was martin himself a man to be over-scrupulous in such matters. bedroom fires, beef-tea, champagne, the thousand and one little matters which scarcely come within the cognisance of the rich, but tax so heavily the devotion of the poor, had all left their mark on the score. that such items should figure in her domestic accounts, seemed to miss joliffe so great a violation of the rules which govern prudent housekeeping, that all the urgency of the situation was needed to free her conscience from the guilt of extravagance--from that _luxuria_ or wantonness, which leads the van among the seven deadly sins. philpotts the butcher had half smiled, half sighed to see sweetbreads entered in miss joliffe's book, and had, indeed, forgotten to keep record of many a similar purchase; using that kindly, quiet charity which the recipient is none the less aware of, and values the more from its very unostentation. so, too, did custance the grocer tremble in executing champagne orders for the thin and wayworn old lady, and gave her full measure pressed down and running over in teas and sugars, to make up for the price which he was compelled to charge for such refinements in the way of wine. yet the total had mounted up in spite of all forbearance, and miss joliffe was at this moment reminded of its gravity by the gold-foil necks of three bottles of the universally-appreciated duc de bentivoglio brand, which still projected from a shelf above her head. of dr ennefer's account she scarcely dared even to think; and there was perhaps less need of her doing so, for he never sent it in, knowing very well that she would pay it as she could, and being quite prepared to remit it entirely if she could never pay it at all. she appreciated his consideration, and overlooked with rare tolerance a peculiarly irritating breach of propriety of which he was constantly guilty. this was nothing less than addressing medicines to her house as if it were still an inn. before miss joliffe moved into the hand of god, she had spent much of the little allowed her for repairs, in covering up the name of the inn painted on the front. but after heavy rains the great black letters stared perversely through their veil, and the organist made small jokes about it being a difficult thing to thwart the hand of god. silly and indecorous, miss joliffe termed such witticisms, and had bellevue house painted in gold upon the fanlight over the door. but the cullerne painter wrote bellevue too small, and had to fill up the space by writing house too large; and the organist sneered again at the disproportion, saying it should have been the other way, for everyone knew it was a house, but none knew it was bellevue. and then dr ennefer addressed his medicine to "mr joliffe, the hand"-not even to the hand of god, but simply the hand; and miss joliffe eyed the bottles askance as they lay on the table in the dreary hall, and tore the wrappers off them quickly, holding her breath the while that no exclamation of impatience might escape her. thus, the kindly doctor, in the hurry of his workaday life, vexed, without knowing it, the heart of the kindly lady, till she was constrained to retire to her study, and read the precepts about turning the other cheek to the smiters, before she could quite recover her serenity. miss joliffe sat in her study considering how martin's accounts were to be met. her brother, throughout his disorderly and unbusinesslike life, had prided himself on orderly and business habits. it was true that these were only manifested in the neat and methodical arrangement of his bills, but there he certainly excelled. he never paid a bill; it was believed it never occurred to him to pay one; but he folded each account to exactly the same breadth, using the cover of an old glove-box as a gauge, wrote very neatly on the outside the date, the name of the creditor, and the amount of the debt, and with an indiarubber band enrolled it in a company of its fellows. miss joliffe found drawers full of such disheartening packets after his death, for martin had a talent for distributing his favours, and of planting small debts far and wide, which by-and-by grew up into a very upas forest. miss joliffe's difficulties were increased a thousandfold by a letter which had reached her some days before, and which raised a case of conscience. it lay open on the little table before her: "139, new bond street. "madam, "we are entrusted with a commission to purchase several pictures of still-life, and believe that you have a large painting of flowers for the acquiring of which we should be glad to treat. the picture to which we refer was formerly in the possession of the late michael joliffe, esquire, and consists of a basket of flowers on a mahogany table, with a caterpillar in the left-hand corner. we are so sure of our client's taste and of the excellence of the painting that we are prepared to offer for it a sum of fifty pounds, and to dispense with any previous inspection. "we shall be glad to receive a reply at your early convenience, and in the meantime "we remain, madam, "your most obedient servants, "baunton and lutterworth." miss joliffe read this letter for the hundredth time, and dwelt with unabated complacency on the "formerly in the possession of the late michael joliffe, esquire." there was about the phrase something of ancestral dignity and importance that gratified her, and dulled the sordid bitterness of her surroundings. "the late michael joliffe, esquire"--it read like a banker's will; and she was once more euphemia joliffe, a romantic girl sitting in wydcombe church of a summer sunday morning, proud of a new sprigged muslin, and proud of many tablets to older joliffes on the walls about her; for yeomen in southavonshire have pedigrees as well as dukes. at first sight it seemed as if providence had offered her in this letter a special solution of her difficulties, but afterwards scruples had arisen that barred the way of escape. "a large painting of flowers"-her father had been proud of it--proud of his worthless wife's work; and when she herself was a little child, had often held her up in his arms to see the shining table-top and touch the caterpillar. the wound his wife had given him must still have been raw, for that was only a year after sophia had left him and the children; yet he was proud of her cleverness, and perhaps not without hope of her coming back. and when he died he left to poor euphemia, then half-way through the dark gorge of middle age, an old writing-desk full of little tokens of her mother-the pair of gloves she wore at her wedding, a flashy brooch, a pair of flashy earrings, and many other unconsidered trifles that he had cherished. he left her, too, sophia's long wood paint-box, with its little bottles of coloured powders for mixing oil-paints, and this same "basket of flowers on a mahogany table, with a caterpillar in the left-hand corner." there had always been a tradition as to the value of this picture. her father had spoken little of his wife to the children, and it was only piecemeal, as she grew into womanhood, that miss euphemia learnt from hints and half-told truths the story of her mother's shame. but michael joliffe was known to have considered this painting his wife's masterpiece, and old mrs janaway reported that sophia had told her many a time it would fetch a hundred pounds. miss euphemia herself never had any doubt as to its worth, and so the offer in this letter occasioned her no surprise. she thought, in fact, that the sum named was considerably less than its market value, but sell it she could not. it was a sacred trust, and the last link (except the silver spoons marked "j.") that bound the squalid present to the comfortable past. it was an heirloom, and she could never bring herself to part with it. then the bell rang, and she slipped the letter into her pocket, smoothed the front of her dress, and climbed the stone stairs to see what mr westray wanted. the architect told her that he hoped to remain as her lodger during his stay in cullerne, and he was pleased at his own magnanimity when he saw what pleasure the announcement gave miss joliffe. she felt it as a great relief, and consented readily enough to take away the ferns, and the mats, and the shell flowers, and the wax fruit, and to make sundry small alterations of the furniture which he desired. it seemed to her, indeed, that, considering he was an architect, mr westray's taste was strangely at fault; but she extended to him all possible forbearance, in view of his kindly manner and of his intention to remain with her. then the architect approached the removal of the flower-painting. he hinted delicately that it was perhaps rather too large for the room, and that he should be glad of the space to hang a plan of cullerne church, to which he would have constantly to refer. the rays of the setting sun fell full on the picture at the time, and, lighting up its vulgar showiness, strengthened him in his resolution to be free of it at any cost. but the courage of his attack flagged a little, as he saw the look of dismay which overspread miss joliffe's face. "i think, you know, it is a little too bright and distracting for this room, which will really be my workshop." miss joliffe was now convinced that her lodger was devoid of all appreciation, and she could not altogether conceal her surprise and sadness in replying: "i am sure i want to oblige you in every way, sir, and to make you comfortable, for i always hope to have gentlefolk for my lodgers, and could never bring myself to letting the rooms down by taking anyone who was not a gentleman; but i hope you will not ask me to move the picture. it has hung here ever since i took the house, and my brother, `the late martin joliffe'"--she was unconsciously influenced by the letter which she had in her pocket, and almost said "the late martin joliffe, esquire"--"thought very highly of it, and used to sit here for hours in his last illness studying it. i hope you will not ask me to move the picture. you may not be aware, perhaps, that, besides being painted by my mother, it is in itself a very valuable work of art." there was a suggestion, however faint, in her words, of condescension for her lodger's bad taste, and a desire to enlighten his ignorance which nettled westray; and he contrived in his turn to throw a tone of superciliousness into his reply. "oh, of course, if you wish it to remain from sentimental reasons, i have nothing more to say, and i must not criticise your mother's work; but--" and he broke off, seeing that the old lady took the matter so much to heart, and being sorry that he had been ruffled at a trifle. miss joliffe gulped down her chagrin. it was the first time she had heard the picture openly disparaged, though she had thought that on more than one occasion it had not been appreciated so much as it deserved. but she carried a guarantee of its value in her pocket, and could afford to be magnanimous. "it has always been considered very valuable," she went on, "though i daresay i do not myself understand all its beauties, because i have not been sufficiently trained in art. but i am quite sure that it could be sold for a great deal of money, if i could only bring myself to part with it." westray was irritated by the hint that he knew little of art, and his sympathy for his landlady in her family attachment to the picture was much discounted by what he knew must be wilful exaggeration as to its selling value. miss joliffe read his thoughts, and took a piece of paper from her pocket. "i have here," she said, "an offer of fifty pounds for the picture from some gentlemen in london. please read it, that you may see it is not i who am mistaken." she held him out the dealers' letter, and westray took it to humour her. he read it carefully, and wondered more and more as he went on. what could be the explanation? could the offer refer to some other picture? for he knew baunton and lutterworth as being most reputable among london picture-dealers; and the idea of the letter being a hoax was precluded by the headed paper and general style of the communication. he glanced at the picture. the sunlight was still on it, and it stood out more hideous than ever; but his tone was altered as he spoke again to miss joliffe. "do you think," he said, "that this is the picture mentioned? have you no other pictures?" "no, nothing of this sort. it is certainly this one; you see, they speak of the caterpillar in the corner." and she pointed to the bulbous green animal that wriggled on the table-top. "so they do," he said; "but how did they know anything about it?"--quite forgetting the question of its removal in the new problem that was presented. "oh, i fancy that most really good paintings are well-known to dealers. this is not the first inquiry we have had, for the very day of my dear brother's death a gentleman called here about it. none of us were at home except my brother, so i did not see him; but i believe he wanted to buy it, only my dear brother would never have consented to its being sold." "it seems to me a handsome offer," westray said; "i should think very seriously before i refused it." "yes, it is very serious to me in my position," answered miss joliffe; "for i am not rich; but i could not sell this picture. you see, i have known it ever since i was a little girl, and my father set such store by it. i hope, mr westray, you will not want it moved. i think, if you let it stop a little, you will get to like it very much yourself." westray did not press the matter further; he saw it was a sore point with his landlady, and reflected that he might hang a plan in front of the painting, if need be, as a temporary measure. so a concordat was established, and miss joliffe put baunton and lutterworth's letter back into her pocket, and returned to her accounts with equanimity at least partially restored. after she had left the room, westray examined the picture once more, and more than ever was he convinced of its worthlessness. it had all the crude colouring and hard outlines of the worst amateur work, and gave the impression of being painted with no other object than to cover a given space. this view was, moreover, supported by the fact that the gilt frame was exceptionally elaborate and well made, and he came to the conclusion that sophia must somehow have come into possession of the frame, and had painted the flower-piece to fill it. the sun was a red ball on the horizon as he flung up the window and looked out over the roofs towards the sea. the evening was very still, and the town lay steeped in deep repose. the smoke hung blue above it in long, level strata, and there was perceptible in the air a faint smell of burning weeds. the belfry story of the centre tower glowed with a pink flush in the sunset, and a cloud of jackdaws wheeled round the golden vanes, chattering and fluttering before they went to bed. "it is a striking scene, is it not?" said a voice at his elbow; "there is a curious aromatic scent in this autumn air that makes one catch one's breath." it was the organist who had slipped in unawares. "i feel down on my luck," he said. "take your supper in my room to-night, and let us have a talk." westray had not seen much of him for the last few days, and agreed gladly enough that they should spend the evening together; only the venue was changed, and supper taken in the architect's room. they talked over many things that night, and westray let his companion ramble on to his heart's content about cullerne men and manners; for he was of a receptive mind, and anxious to learn what he could about those among whom he had taken up his abode. he told mr sharnall of his conversation with miss joliffe, and of the unsuccessful attempt to get the picture removed. the organist knew all about baunton and lutterworth's letter. "the poor thing has made the question a matter of conscience for the last fortnight," he said, "and worried herself into many a sleepless night over that picture. `shall i sell it, or shall i not?' `yes,' says poverty--`sell it, and show a brave front to your creditors.' `yes,' say martin's debts, clamouring about her with open mouths, like a nest of young starlings, `sell it, and satisfy us.' `no,' says pride, `don't sell it; it is a patent of respectability to have an oil-painting in the house.' `no,' says family affection, and the queer little piping voice of her own childhood--`don't sell it. don't you remember how fond poor daddy was of it, and how dear martin treasured it?' `dear martin'--psh! martin never did her anything but evil turns all his threescore years, but women canonise their own folk when they die. haven't you seen what they call a religious woman damn the whole world for evil-doers? and then her husband or her brother dies, and may have lived as ill a life as any other upon earth, but she don't damn him. love bids her penal code halt; she makes a way of escape for her own, and speaks of dear dick and dear tom for all the world as if they had been double baxter-saints. no, blood is thicker than water; damnation doesn't hold good for her own. love is stronger than hell-fire, and works a miracle for dick and tom; only _she_ has to make up the balance by giving other folks an extra dose of brimstone. "lastly, worldly wisdom, or what miss joliffe thinks wisdom, says, `no, don't sell it; you should get more than fifty pounds for such a gem.' so she is tossed about, and if she'd lived when there were monks in cullerne church, she would have asked her father confessor, and he would have taken down his `summa angelica,' and looked it out under v.--`_vendetur? utrum vendetur an non_?'--and set her mind at rest. you didn't know i could chaffer latin with the best of 'em, did you? ah, but i can, even with the rector, for all the _nebulus_ and _nebulum_; only i don't trot it out too often. i'll show you a copy of the `summa' when you come down to my room; but there aren't any confessors now, and dear protestant parkyn couldn't read the `summa' if he had it; so there is no one to settle the case for her." the little man had worked himself into a state of exaltation, and his eyes twinkled as he spoke of his scholastic attainments. "latin," he said--"damn it! i can talk latin against anyone--yes, with beza himself--and could tell you tales in it which would make you stop your ears. ah, well, more fool i--more fool i. `_contentus esto, paule mi, lasciva, paule, pagina_,'" he muttered to himself, and drummed nervously with his fingers on the table. westray was apprehensive of these fits of excitement, and led the conversation back to the old theme. "it baffles me to understand how _anyone_ with eyes at all could think a daub like this was valuable--that is strange enough; but how come these london people to have made an offer for it? i know the firm quite well; they are first-rate dealers." "there are some people," said the organist, "who can't tell `pop goes the weasel' from the `hallelujah chorus,' and others are as bad with pictures. i'm very much that way myself. no doubt all you say is right, and this picture an eyesore to any respectable person, but i've been used to it so long i've got to like it, and should be sorry to see her sell it. and as for these london buyers, i suppose some other ignoramus has taken a fancy to it, and wants to buy. you see, there _have_ been chance visitors staying in this room a night or two between whiles--perhaps even americans, for all i said about them--and you can never reckon what _they'll_ do. the very day martin joliffe died there was a story of someone coming to buy the picture of him. i was at church in the afternoon, and miss joliffe at the dorcas meeting, and anastasia gone out to the chemist. when i got back, i came up to see martin in this same room, and found him full of a tale that he had heard the bell ring, and after that someone walking in the house, and last his door opened, and in walked a stranger. martin was sitting in the chair i'm using now, and was too weak then to move out of it; so he was forced to sit until this man came in. the stranger talked kindly to him, so he said, and wanted to buy the picture of the flowers, bidding as high as twenty pounds for it; but martin wouldn't hear him, and said he wouldn't let him have it for ten times that, and then the man went away. that was the story, and i thought at the time 'twas all a cock-and-bull tale, and that martin's mind was wandering; for he was very weak, and seemed flushed too, like one just waken from a dream. but he had a cunning look in his eye when he told me, and said if he lived another week he would be lord blandamer himself, and wouldn't want then to sell any pictures. he spoke of it again when his sister came back, but couldn't say what the man was like, except that his hair reminded him of anastasia's. "but martin's time was come; he died that very night, and miss joliffe was terribly cast down, because she feared she had given him an overdose of sleeping-draught; for ennefer told her he had taken too much, and she didn't see where he had got it from unless she gave it him by mistake. ennefer wrote the death certificate, and so there was no inquest; but that put the stranger out of our thoughts until it was too late to find him, if, indeed, he ever was anything more than the phantom of a sick man's brain. no one beside had seen him, and all we had to ask for was a man with wavy hair, because he reminded martin of anastasia. but if 'twas true, then there was someone else who had a fancy for the painting, and poor old michael must have thought a lot of it to frame it in such handsome style." "i don't know," westray said; "it looks to me as if the picture was painted to fill the frame." "perhaps so, perhaps so," answered the organist dryly. "what made martin joliffe think he was so near success?" "ah, that i can't tell you. he was always thinking he had squared the circle, or found the missing bit to fit into the puzzle; but he kept his schemes very dark. he left boxes full of papers behind him when he died, and miss joliffe handed them to me to look over, instead of burning them. i shall go through them some day; but no doubt the whole thing is moonshine, and if he ever had a clue it died with him." there was a little pause; the chimes of saint sepulchre's played "mount ephraim," and the great bell tolled out midnight over cullerne flat. "it's time to be turning in. you haven't a drop of whisky, i suppose?" he said, with a glance at the kettle which stood on a trivet in front of the fire; "i have talked myself thirsty." there was a pathos in his appeal that would have melted many a stony heart, but westray's principles were unassailable, and he remained obdurate. "no, i am afraid i have not," he said; "you see, i never take spirits myself. will you not join me in a cup of cocoa? the kettle boils." mr sharnall's face fell. "you ought to have been an old woman," he said; "only old women drink cocoa. well, i don't mind if i do; any port in a storm." the organist went to bed that night in a state of exemplary sobriety, for when he got down to his own room he could find no spirit in the cupboard, and remembered that he had finished the last bottle of old martelet's _eau-de-vie_ at his tea, and that he had no money to buy another. chapter six. a month later the restoration work at saint sepulchre's was fairly begun, and in the south transept a wooden platform had been raised on scaffold-poles to such a height as allowed the masons to work at the vault from the inside. this roof was no doubt the portion of the fabric that called most urgently for repair, but westray could not disguise from himself that delay might prove dangerous in other directions, and he drew sir george farquhar's attention to more than one weak spot which had escaped the great architect's cursory inspection. but behind all westray's anxieties lurked that dark misgiving as to the tower arches, and in his fancy the enormous weight of the central tower brooded like the incubus over the whole building. sir george farquhar paid sufficient attention to his deputy's representations to visit cullerne with a special view to examining the tower. he spent an autumn day in making measurements and calculations, he listened to the story of the interrupted peal, and probed the cracks in the walls, but saw no reason to reconsider his former verdict or to impugn the stability of the tower. he gently rallied westray on his nervousness, and, whilst he agreed that in other places repair was certainly needed, he pointed out that lack of funds must unfortunately limit for the present both the scope of operations and the rate of progress. cullerne abbey was dissolved with the larger religious houses in 1539, when nicholas vinnicomb, the last abbot, being recalcitrant, and refusing to surrender his house, was hanged as a traitor in front of the great west gate-house. the general revenues were impropriated by the king's court of augmentations, and the abbey lands in the immediate vicinity were given to shearman, the king's physician. spellman, in his book on sacrilege, cites cullerne as an instance where church lands brought ruin to their new owner's family; for shearman had a spendthrift son who squandered his patrimony, and then, caballing with spanish intriguants, came to the block in queen elizabeth's days. "for evil hands have abbey lands, such evil fate in store; such is the heritage that waits church-robbers evermore." thus, in the next generation the name of shearman was clean put away; but sir john fynes, purchasing the property, founded the grammar school and almshouses as a sin-offering for the misdoings of his predecessors. this measure of atonement succeeded admirably, for horatio fynes was ennobled by james the first, and his family, with the title of blandamer, endures to this present. on the day before the formal dissolution of their house the monks sung the last service in the abbey church. it was held late in the evening, partly because this time seemed to befit such a farewell, and partly that less public attention might be attracted; for there was a doubt whether the king's servants would permit any further ceremonies. six tall candles burnt upon the altar, and the usual sconces lit the service-books that lay before the brothers in the choir-stalls. it was a sad service, as every good and amiable thing is sad when done for the last time. there were agonising hearts among the brothers, especially among the older monks, who knew not whither to go on the morrow; and the voice of the sub-prior was broken with grief, and failed him as he read the lesson. the nave was in darkness except for the warming-braziers, which here and there cast a ruddy glow on the vast norman pillars. in the obscurity were gathered little groups of townsmen. the nave had always been open for their devotions in happier days, and at the altars of its various chapels they were accustomed to seek the means of grace. that night they met for the last time--some few as curious spectators, but most in bitterness of heart and profound sorrow, that the great church with its splendid services was lost to them for ever. they clustered between the pillars of the arcades; and, the doors that separated the nave from the choir being open, they could look through the stone screen, and see the serges twinking far away on the high altar. among all the sad hearts in the abbey church, there was none sadder than that of richard vinnicomb, merchant and wool-stapler. he was the abbot's elder brother, and to all the bitterness naturally incident to the occasion was added in his case the grief that his brother was a prisoner in london, and would certainly be tried for his life. he stood in the deep shadow of the pier that supported the north-west corner of the tower, weighed down with sorrow for the abbot and for the fall of the abbey, and uncertain whether his brother's condemnation would not involve his own ruin. it was december 6, saint nicholas' day, the day of the abbot's patron saint. he was near enough to the choir to hear the collect being read on the other side of the screen: "_deus qui beatum nicolaum pontificem innumeris decorasti miraculis: tribue quaesumus ut ejus mentis, et precibus, a gehennae incendiis liberemur, per dominum nostrum jesum christum. amen_." "amen," he said in the shadow of his pillar. "blessed nicholas, save me; blessed nicholas, save us all; blessed nicholas, save my brother, and, if he must lose this temporal life, pray to our lord christ that he will shortly accomplish the number of his elect, and reunite us in his eternal paradise." he clenched his hands in his distress, and, as a flicker from the brazier fell upon him, those standing near saw the tears run down his cheeks. "_nicholas qui omnem terram doctrina replevisti, intercede pro peccatis nostris_," said the officiant; and the monks gave the antiphon: "_iste est qui contempsit vitam mundi et pervenit ad coelestia regna_." one by one a server put out the altar-lights, and as the last was extinguished the monks rose in their places, and walked out in procession, while the organ played a dirge as sad as the wind in a ruined window. the abbot was hanged before his abbey gate, but richard vinnicomb's goods escaped confiscation; and when the great church was sold, as it stood, for building material, he bought it for three hundred pounds, and gave it to the parish. one part of his prayer was granted, for within a year death reunited him to his brother; and in his pious will he bequeathed his "sowle to allmyhtie god his maker and redemer, to have the fruition of the deitie with our blessed ladie and all saints and the abbey churche of saint sepulchre with the implements thereof, to the paryshe of cullerne, so that the said parishioners shall not sell, alter, or alienate the said churche, or implements or anye part or parcell thereof for ever." thus it was that the church which westray had to restore was preserved at a critical period of its history. richard vinnicomb's generosity extended beyond the mere purchase of the building, for he left in addition a sum to support the dignity of a daily service, with a complement of three chaplains, an organist, ten singing-men, and sixteen choristers. but the negligence of trustees and the zeal of more religious-minded men than poor superstitious richard had sadly diminished these funds. successive rectors of cullerne became convinced that the spiritual interests of the town would be better served by placing a larger income at their own disposal for good works, and by devoting less to the mere lip-service of much daily singing. thus, the stipend of the rector was gradually augmented, and canon parkyn found an opportunity soon after his installation to increase the income of the living to a round two thousand by curtailing extravagance in the payment of an organist, and by reducing the emoluments of that office from two hundred to eighty pounds a year. it was true that this scheme of economy included the abolition of the week-day morning-service, but at three o'clock in the afternoon evensong was still rehearsed in cullerne church. it was the thin and vanishing shadow of a cathedral service, and canon parkyn hoped that it might gradually dwindle away until it was dispersed to nought. such formalism must certainly throttle any real devotion, and it was regrettable that many of the prayers in which his own fine voice and personal magnetism must have had a moving effect upon his hearers should be constantly obscured by vain intonations. it was only by doing violence to his own high principles that he constrained himself to accept the emoluments which poor richard vinnicomb had provided for a singing foundation, and he was scrupulous in showing his disapproval of such vanities by punctilious absence from the week-day service. this ceremony was therefore entrusted to white-haired mr noot, whose zeal in his master's cause had left him so little opportunity for pushing his own interests that at sixty he was stranded as an underpaid curate in the backwater of cullerne. at four o'clock, therefore, on a week-day afternoon, anyone who happened to be in saint sepulchre's church might see a little surpliced procession issue from the vestries in the south transept, and wind its way towards the choir. it was headed by clerk janaway, who carried a silver-headed mace; then followed eight choristers (for the number fixed by richard vinnicomb had been diminished by half); then five singing-men, of whom the youngest was fifty, and the rear was brought up by mr noot. the procession having once entered the choir, the clerk shut the doors of the screen behind it, that the minds of the officiants might be properly removed from contemplation of the outer world, and that devotion might not be interrupted by any intrusion of profane persons from the nave. these outside profane existed rather in theory than fact, for, except in the height of summer, visitors were rarely seen in the nave or any other part of the building. cullerne lay remote from large centres, and archaeologic interest was at this time in so languishing a condition that few, except professed antiquaries, were aware of the grandeur of the abbey church. if strangers troubled little about cullerne, the interest of the inhabitants in the week-day service was still more lukewarm, and the pews in front of the canopied stalls remained constantly empty. thus, mr noot read, and mr sharnall the organist played, and the choir-men and choristers sang, day by day, entirely for clerk janaway's benefit, because there was no one else to listen to them. yet, if a stranger given to music ever entered the church at such times, he was struck with the service; for, like the homeric housewife who did the best with what she had by her, mr sharnall made the most of his defective organ and inadequate choir. he was a man if much taste and resource, and, as the echoes of the singing rolled round the vaulted roofs, a generous critic thought little of cracked voices and leaky bellows and rattling trackers, but took away with him an harmonious memory of sunlight and coloured glass and eighteenth-century music; and perhaps of some clear treble voice, for mr sharnall was famed for training boys and discovering the gift of song. saint luke's little summer, in the october that followed the commencement of the restoration, amply justified its name. in the middle of the month there were several days of such unusual beauty as to recall the real summer, and the air was so still and the sunshine so warm that anyone looking at the soft haze on cullerne flat might well have thought that august had returned. cullerne minster was, as a rule, refreshingly cool in the warmth of summer, but something of the heat and oppressiveness of the outside air seemed to have filtered into the church on these unseasonably warm autumn days. on a certain saturday a more than usual drowsiness marked the afternoon service. the choir plumped down into their places when the psalms were finished, and abandoned themselves to slumber with little attempt at concealment, as mr noot began the first lesson. there were, indeed, honourable exceptions to the general somnolence. on the cantoris side the worn-out alto held an animated conversation with the cracked tenor. they were comparing some specially fine onions under the desk, for both were gardeners and the autumn leek-show was near at hand. on the decani side patrick ovens, a red-haired little treble, was kept awake by the necessity for altering _magnificat_ into _magnified cat_ in his copy of aldrich in g. the lesson was a long one. mr noot, mildest and most beneficent of men, believed that he was at his best in denunciatory passages of scripture. the prayer-book, it was true, had appointed a portion of the book of wisdom for the afternoon lesson, but mr noot made light of authorities, and read instead a chapter from isaiah. if he had been questioned as to this proceeding, he would have excused himself by saying that he disapproved of the apocrypha, even for instruction of manners (and there was no one at cullerne at all likely to question this right of private judgment), but his real, though perhaps unconscious, motive was to find a suitable passage for declamation. he thundered forth judgments in a manner which combined, he believed, the terrors of supreme justice with an infinite commiseration for the blindness of errant, but long-forgotten peoples. he had, in fact, that "bible voice" which seeks to communicate additional solemnity to the scriptures by reciting them in a tone never employed in ordinary life, as the fledgling curate adds gravity to the litany by whispering "the hour of death and day of judgment." mr noot, being short-sighted, did not see how lightly the punishments of these ancient races passed over the heads of his dozing audience, and was bringing the long lesson to a properly dramatic close when the unexpected happened: the screen-door opened and a stranger entered. as the blowing of a horn by the paladin broke the repose of a century, and called back to life the spellbound princess and her court, so these slumbering churchmen were startled from their dreams by the intruder. the choir-boys fell to giggling, the choir-men stared, clerk janaway grasped his mace as if he would brain so rash an adventurer, and the general movement made mr sharnall glance nervously at his stops; for he thought that he had overslept himself, and that the choir had stood up for the _magnificat_. the stranger seemed unconscious of the attention which his appearance provoked. he was no doubt some casual sightseer, and had possibly been unaware that any service was in progress until he opened the screen-door. but once there, he made up his mind to join in the devotions, and was walking to the steps which led up to the stalls when clerk janaway popped out of his place and accosted him, quoting the official regulations in something louder than a stage whisper: "ye cannot enter the choir during the hours of divine service. ye cannot come in." the stranger was amused at the old man's officiousness. "i am in," he whispered back, "and, being in, will take a seat, if you please, until the service is over." the clerk looked at him doubtfully for a moment, but if there was amusement to be read in the other's countenance, there was also a decision that did not encourage opposition. so he thought better of the matter, and opened the door of one of the pews that run below the stalls in cullerne church. but the stranger did not appear to notice that a place was being shown him, and walked past the pew and up the little steps that led to the stalls on the cantoris side. directly behind the singing-men were five stalls, which had canopies richer and more elaborate than those of the others, with heraldic escutcheons painted on the backs. from these seats the vulgar herd was excluded by a faded crimson cord, but the stranger lifted the cord from its hook, and sat down in the first reserved seat, as if the place belonged to him. clerk janaway was outraged, and bustled up the steps after him like an angry turkey-cock. "come, come!" he said, touching the intruder on the shoulder; "you cannot sit here; these are the fording seats, and kep' for lord blandamer's family." "i will make room if lord blandamer brings his family," the stranger said; and, seeing that the old man was returning to the attack, added, "hush! that is enough." the clerk looked at him again, and then turned back to his own place, routed. "_and in that day they shall roar against thee like the roaring of the sea, and if one look unto the land behold darkness and sorrow, and the light is darkened in the heavens thereof_," said mr noot, and shut the book, with a glance of general fulmination through his great round spectacles. the choir, who had been interested spectators of this conflict of lawlessness as personified in the intruder, and authority as in the clerk, rose to their feet as the organ began the _magnificat_. the singing-men exchanged glances of amusement, for they were not altogether averse to seeing the clerk worsted. he was an autocrat in his own church, and ruffled them now and again with what they called his bumptiousness. perhaps he did assume a little as he led the procession, for he forgot at times that he was a peaceable servant of the sanctuary, and fancied, as he marched mace in hand to the music of the organ, that he was a daring officer leading a forlorn hope. that very afternoon he had had a heated discussion in the vestry with mr milligan, the bass, on a question of gardening, and the singer, who still smarted under the clerk's overbearing tongue, was glad to emphasise his adversary's defeat by paying attention to the intruder. the tenor on the cantoris side was taking holiday that day, and mr milligan availed himself of the opportunity to offer the absentee's copy of the service to the intruder, who was sitting immediately behind him. he turned round, and placed the book, open at the _magnificat_, before the stranger with much deference, casting as he faced round again a look of misprision at janaway, of which the latter was quick to appreciate, the meaning. this by-play was lost upon the stranger, who nodded his acknowledgment of the civility, and turned to the study of the score which had been offered him. mr sharnall's resources in the way of men's voices were so limited that he was by no means unused to finding himself short of a voice-part on the one side or the other. he had done his best to remedy the deficiency in the psalms by supplying the missing part with his left hand, but as he began the _magnificat_ he was amazed to hear a mellow and fairly strong tenor taking part in the service with feeling and precision. it was the stranger who stood in the gap, and when the first surprise was past, the choir welcomed him as being versed in their own arts, and clerk janaway forgot the presumption of his entrance and even the rebellious conduct of mr milligan. the men and boys sang with new life; they wished, in fact, that so knowledgeable a person should be favourably impressed, and the service was rendered in a more creditable way than cullerne church had known for many a long day. only the stranger was perfectly unmoved. he sang as if he had been a lay-vicar all his life, and when the _magnificat_ was ended, and mr sharnall could look through the curtains of the organ-loft, the organist saw him with a bible devoutly following mr noot in the second lesson. he was a man of forty, rather above the middle height, with dark eyebrows and dark hair, that was beginning to turn grey. his hair, indeed, at once attracted the observer's attention by its thick profusion and natural wavy curl. he was clean-shaven, his features were sharply cut without being thin, and there was something contemptuous about the firm mouth. his nose was straight, and a powerful face gave the impression of a man who was accustomed to be obeyed. to anyone looking at him from the other side of the choir, he presented a remarkable picture, for which the black oak of abbot vinnicomb's stalls supplied a frame. above his head the canopy went soaring up into crockets and finials, and on the woodwork at the back was painted a shield which nearer inspection would have shown to be the blandamer cognisance, with its nebuly bars of green and silver. it was, perhaps, so commanding an appearance that made red-haired patrick ovens take out an australian postage-stamp which he had acquired that very day, and point out to the boy next to him the effigy of queen victoria sitting crowned in a gothic chair. the stranger seemed to enter thoroughly into the spirit of the performance; he bore his part in the service bravely, and, being furnished with another book, lent effective aid with the anthem. he stood up decorously as the choir filed out after the grace, and then sat down again in his seat to listen to the voluntary. mr sharnall determined to play something of quality as a tribute to the unknown tenor, and gave as good a rendering of the saint anne's fugue as the state of the organ would permit. it was true that the trackers rattled terribly, and that a cipher marred the effect of the second subject; but when he got to the bottom of the little winding stairs that led down from the loft, he found the stranger waiting with a compliment. "thank you very much," he said; "it is very kind of you to give us so fine a fugue. it is many years since i was last in this church, and i am fortunate to have chosen so sunny an afternoon, and to have been in time for your service." "not at all, not at all," said the organist; "it is we who are fortunate in having you to help us. you read well, and have a useful voice, though i caught you tripping a little in the lead of the _nunc dimittis_ gloria." and he sung it over by way of reminder. "you understand church music, and have sung many a service before, i am sure, though you don't look much given that way," he added, scanning him up and down. the stranger was amused rather than offended at these blunt criticisms, and the catechising went on. "are you stopping in cullerne?" "no," the other replied courteously; "i am only here for the day, but i hope i may find other occasions to visit the place and to hear your service. you will have your full complement of voices next time i come, no doubt, and i shall be able to listen more at my ease than to-day?" "oh no, you won't. it's ten to one you will find us still worse off. we are a poverty-stricken lot, and no one to come over into macedonia to help us. these cursed priests eat up our substance like canker-worms, and grow sleek on the money that was left to keep the music going. i don't mean the old woman that read this afternoon; he's got _his_ nose on the grindstone like the rest of us--poor noot! he has to put brown paper in his boots because he can't afford to have them resoled. no, it's the barabbas in the rectory-house, that buys his stocks and shares, and starves the service." this tirade fell lightly on the stranger's ears. he looked as if his thoughts were a thousand miles away, and the organist broke off: "do you play the organ? do you understand an organ?" he asked quickly. "alas! i do not play," the stranger said, bringing his mind back with a jerk for the answer, "and understand little about the instrument." "well, next time you are here come up into the loft, and i will show you what a chest of rattletraps i have to work with. we are lucky to get through a service without a breakdown; the pedal-board is too short and past its work, and now the bellows are worn-out." "surely you can get that altered," the stranger said; "the bellows shouldn't cost so much to mend." "they are patched already past mending. those who would like to pay for new ones haven't got the money, and those who have the money won't pay. why, that very stall you sat in belongs to a man who could give us new bellows, and a new organ, and a new church, if we wanted it. blandamer, that's his name--lord blandamer. if you had looked, you could have seen his great coat of arms on the back of the seat; and he won't spend a halfpenny to keep the roofs from falling on our heads." "ah," said the stranger, "it seems a very sad case." they had reached the north door, and, as they stepped out, he repeated meditatively: "it seems a very sad case; you must tell me more about it next time we meet." the organist took the hint, and wished his companion good-afternoon, turning down towards the wharves for a constitutional on the riverside. the stranger raised his hat with something of foreign courtesy, and walked back into the town. chapter seven. miss euphemia joliffe devoted saturday afternoons to saint sepulchre's dorcas society. the meetings were held in a class-room of the girls' national school, and there a band of devoted females gathered week by week to make garments for the poor. if there was in cullerne some threadbare gentility, and a great deal of middle-class struggling, there was happily little actual poverty, as it is understood in great towns. thus the poor, to whom the clothes made by the dorcas society were ultimately distributed, could sometimes afford to look the gift-horse in the mouth, and to lament that good material had been marred in the making. "they wept," the organist said, "when they showed the coats and garments that dorcas made, because they were so badly cut;" but this was a libel, for there were many excellent needlewomen in the society, and among the very best was miss euphemia joliffe. she was a staunch supporter of the church, and, had her circumstances permitted, would have been a scripture-reader or at least a district visitor. but the world was so much with her, in the shape of domestic necessities at bellevue lodge, as to render parish work impossible, and so the dorcas meeting was the only systematic philanthropy in which she could venture to indulge. but in the discharge of this duty she was regularity personified; neither wind nor rain, snow nor heat, sickness nor amusement, stopped her, and she was to be found each and every saturday afternoon, from three to five, in the national school. if the dorcas society was a duty for the little old lady, it was also a pleasure--one of her few pleasures, and perhaps the greatest. she liked the meetings, because on such occasions she felt herself to be the equal of her more prosperous neighbours. it is the same feeling that makes the half-witted attend funerals and church services. at such times they feel themselves to be for once on an equal footing with their fellow-men: all are reduced to the same level; there are no speeches to be made, no accounts to be added up, no counsels to be given, no decisions to be taken; all are as fools in the sight of god. at the dorcas meeting miss joliffe wore her "best things" with the exception only of head-gear, for the wearing of her best bonnet was a crowning grace reserved exclusively for the sabbath. her wardrobe was too straightened to allow her "best" to follow the shifting seasons closely. if it was bought as best for winter, it might have to play the same role also in summer, and thus it fell sometimes to her lot to wear alpaca in december, or, as on this day, to be adorned with a fur necklet when the weather asked for muslin. yet "in her best" she always felt "fit to be seen"; and when it came to cutting out, or sewing, there were none that excelled her. most of the members greeted her with a kind word, for even in a place where envy, hatred and malice walked the streets arm in arm from sunrise to sunset, miss euphemia had few enemies. lying and slandering, and speaking evil of their fellows, formed a staple occupation of the ladies of cullerne, as of many another small town; and to miss joliffe, who was foolish and old-fashioned enough to think evil of no one, it had seemed at first the only drawback of these delightful meetings that a great deal of such highly-spiced talk was to be heard at them. but even this fly was afterwards removed from the amber; for mrs bulteel--the brewer's lady--who wore london dresses, and was much the most fashionable person in cullerne, proposed that some edifying book should be read aloud on dorcas afternoons to the assembled workers. it was true that mrs flint said she only did so because she thought she had a fine voice; but however that might be, she proposed it, and no one cared to run counter to her. so mrs bulteel read properly religious stories, of so touching a nature that an afternoon seldom passed without her being herself dissolved in tears, and evoking sympathetic sniffs and sobs from such as wished to stand in her good books. if miss joliffe was not herself so easily moved by imaginary sorrow, she set it down to some lack of loving-kindness in her own disposition, and mentally congratulated the others on their superior sensitiveness. miss joliffe was at the dorcas meeting, mr sharnall was walking by the riverside, mr westray was with the masons on the roof of the transept; only anastasia joliffe was at bellevue lodge when the front-door-bell rang. when her aunt was at home, anastasia was not allowed to "wait on the gentlemen," nor to answer the bell; but her aunt being absent, and there being no one else in the house, she duly opened one leaf of the great front-door, and found a gentleman standing on the semicircular flight of steps outside. that he was a gentleman she knew at a glance, for she had a _flair_ for such useless distinctions, though the genus was not sufficiently common at cullerne to allow her much practice in its identification near home. it was, in fact, the stranger of the tenor voice, and such is the quickness of woman's wit, that she learnt in a moment as much concerning his outward appearance as the organist and the choir-men and the clerk had learnt in an hour; and more besides, for she saw that he was well dressed. there was about him a complete absence of personal adornment. he wore no rings and no scarf-pin, even his watch-chain was only of leather. his clothes were of so dark a grey as to be almost black, but miss anastasia joliffe knew that the cloth was good, and the cut of the best. she had thrust a pencil into the pages of "northanger abbey" to keep the place while she answered the bell, and as the stranger stood before her, it seemed to her he might be a henry tilney, and she was prepared, like a catherine morland, for some momentous announcement when he opened his lips. yet there came nothing very weighty from them; he did not even inquire for lodgings, as she half hoped that he would. "does the architect in charge of the works at the church lodge here? is mr westray at home?" was all he said. "he does live here," she answered, "but is out just now, and we do not expect him back till six. i think you will probably find him at the church if you desire to see him." "i have just come from the minster, but could see nothing of him there." it served the stranger right that he should have missed the architect, and been put to the trouble of walking as far as bellevue lodge, for his inquiries must have been very perfunctory. if he had taken the trouble to ask either organist or clerk, he would have learnt at once where mr westray was. "i wonder if you would allow me to write a note. if you could give me a sheet of paper i should be glad to leave a message for him." anastasia gave him a glance from head to foot, rapid as an instantaneous exposure. "tramps" were a permanent bugbear to the ladies of cullerne, and a proper dread of such miscreants had been instilled into anastasia joliffe by her aunt. it was, moreover, a standing rule of the house that no strange men were to be admitted on any pretence, unless there was some man-lodger at home, to grapple with them if occasion arose. but the glance was sufficient to confirm her first verdict--he _was_ a gentleman; there surely could not be such things as gentlemen-tramps. so she answered "oh, certainly," and showed him into mr sharnall's room, because that was on the ground-floor. the visitor gave a quick look round the room. if he had ever been in the house before, anastasia would have thought he was trying to identify something that he remembered; but there was little to be seen except an open piano, and the usual litter of music-books and manuscript paper. "thank you," he said; "can i write here? is this mr westray's room?" "no, another gentleman lodges here, but you can use this room to write in. he is out, and would not mind in any case; he is a friend of mr westray." "i had rather write in mr westray's room if i may. you see i have nothing to do with this other gentleman, and it might be awkward if he came in and found me in his apartment." it seemed to anastasia that the information that the room in which they stood was not mr westray's had in some way or other removed an anxiety from the stranger's mind. there was a faint and indefinable indication of relief in his manner, however much he professed to be embarrassed at the discovery. it might have been, she thought, that he was a great friend of mr westray, and had been sorry to think that his room should be littered and untidy as mr sharnall's certainly was, and so was glad when he found out his mistake. "mr westray's room is at the top of the house," she said deprecatingly. "it is no trouble to me, i assure you, to go up," he answered. anastasia hesitated again for an instant. if there were no gentlemen-tramps, perhaps there were gentlemen-burglars, and she hastily made a mental inventory of mr westray's belongings, but could think of nothing among them likely to act as an incentive to crime. still she would not venture to show a strange man to the top of the house, when there was no one at home but herself. the stranger ought not to have asked her. he could not be a gentleman after all, or he would have seen how irregular was such a request, unless he had indeed some particular motive for wishing to see mr westray's room. the stranger perceived her hesitation, and read her thoughts easily enough. "i beg your pardon," he said. "i ought, of course, to have explained who it is who has the honour of speaking to you. i am lord blandamer, and wish to write a few words to mr westray on questions connected with the restoration of the church. here is my card." there was probably no lady in the town that would have received this information with as great composure as did anastasia joliffe. since the death of his grandfather, the new lord blandamer had been a constant theme of local gossip and surmise. he was a territorial magnate, he owned the whole of the town, and the whole of the surrounding country. his stately house of fording could be seen on a clear day from the minster tower. he was reputed to be a man of great talents and distinguished appearance; he was not more than forty, and he was unmarried. yet no one had seen him since he came to man's estate; it was said he had not been in cullerne for twenty years. there was a tale of some mysterious quarrel with his grandfather, which had banished the young man from his home, and there had been no one to take his part, for both his father and mother were drowned when he was a baby. for a quarter of a century he had been a wanderer abroad: in france and germany, in russia and greece, in italy and spain. he was believed to have visited the east, to have fought in egypt, to have run blockades in south america, to have found priceless diamonds in south africa. he had suffered the awful penances of the fakirs, he had fasted with the monks of mount athos; he had endured the silence of la trappe; men said that the sheik-ul-islam had himself bound the green turban round lord blandamer's head. he could shoot, he could hunt, he could fish, he could fight, he could sing, he could play all instruments; he could speak all languages as fluently as his own; he was the very wisest and the very handsomest, and--some hinted--the very wickedest man that ever lived, yet no one had ever seen him. here was indeed a conjunction of romance for anastasia, to find so mysterious and distinguished a stranger face to face with her alone under the same roof; yet she showed none of those hesitations, tremblings, or faintings that the situation certainly demanded. martin joliffe, her father, had been a handsome man all his life, and had known it. in youth he prided himself on his good looks, and in old age he was careful of his personal appearance. even when his circumstances were at their worst he had managed to obtain well-cut clothes. they were not always of the newest, but they sat well on his tall and upright figure; "gentleman joliffe" people called him, and laughed, though perhaps something less ill-naturedly than was often the case in cullerne, and wondered whence a farmer's son had gotten such manners. to martin himself an aristocratic bearing was less an affectation than a duty; his position demanded it, for he was in his own eyes a blandamer kept out of his rights. it was his good appearance, even at five-and-forty, which induced miss hunter of the grove to run away with him, though colonel hunter had promised to disown her if she ever married so far beneath her. she did not, it is true, live long to endure her father's displeasure, but died in giving birth to her first child. even this sad result had failed to melt the colonel's heart. contrary to all precedents of fiction, he would have nothing to do with his little granddaughter, and sought refuge from so untenable a position in removing from cullerne. nor was martin himself a man to feel a parent's obligations too acutely; so the child was left to be brought up by miss joliffe, and to become an addition to her cares, but much more to her joys. martin joliffe considered that he had amply fulfilled his responsibilities in christening his daughter anastasia, a name which debrett shows to have been borne for generations by ladies of the blandamer family; and, having given so striking a proof of affection, he started off on one of those periodic wanderings which were connected with his genealogical researches, and was not seen again in cullerne for a lustre. for many years afterwards martin showed but little interest in the child. he came back to cullerne at intervals; but was always absorbed in his efforts to establish a right to the nebuly coat, and content to leave the education and support of anastasia entirely to his sister. it was not till his daughter was fifteen that he exercised any paternal authority; but, on his return from a long absence about that period, he pointed out to miss joliffe, senior, that she had shamefully neglected her niece's education, and that so lamentable a state of affairs must be remedied at once. miss joliffe most sorrowfully admitted her shortcomings, and asked martin's forgiveness for her remissness. nor did it ever occur to her to plead in excuse that the duties of a lodging-house, and the necessity of providing sustenance for herself and anastasia, made serious inroads on the time that ought, no doubt, to have been devoted to education; or that the lack of means prevented her from engaging teachers to supplement her own too limited instruction. she had, in fact, been able to impart to anastasia little except reading, writing and arithmetic, some geography, a slight knowledge of miss magnall's questions, a wonderful proficiency with the needle, an unquenchable love of poetry and fiction, a charity for her neighbours which was rare enough in cullerne, and a fear of god which was sadly inconsistent with the best blandamer traditions. the girl was not being brought up as became a blandamer, martin had said; how was she to fill her position when she became the honourable anastasia? she must learn french, not such rudiments as miss joliffe had taught her, and he travestied his sister's "doo, dellah, derlapostrof, day" with a laugh that flushed her withered cheeks with crimson, and made anastasia cry as she held her aunt's hand under the table; not _that_ kind of french, but something that would really pass muster in society. and music, she _must_ study that; and miss joliffe blushed again as she thought very humbly of some elementary duets in which she had played a bass for anastasia till household work and gout conspired to rob her knotty fingers of all pliancy. it had been a great pleasure to her, the playing of these duets with her niece; but they must, of course, be very poor things, and quite out of date now, for she had played them when she was a child herself, and on the very same piano in the parlour at wydcombe. so she listened with attention while martin revealed his scheme of reform, and this was nothing less than the sending of anastasia to mrs howard's boarding-school at the county town of carisbury. the project took away his sister's breath, for mrs howard's was a finishing school of repute, to which only mrs bulteel among cullerne ladies could afford to send her daughters. but martin's high-minded generosity knew no limits. "it was no use making two bites at a cherry; what had to be done had better be done quickly." and he clinched the argument by taking a canvas bag from his pocket, and pouring out a little heap of sovereigns on to the table. miss joliffe's wonder as to how her brother had become possessed of such wealth was lost in admiration of his magnanimity, and if for an instant she thought wistfully of the relief that a small portion of these riches would bring to the poverty-stricken menage at bellevue lodge, she silenced such murmurings in a burst of gratitude for the means of improvement that providence had vouchsafed to anastasia. martin counted out the sovereigns on the table; it was better to pay in advance, and so make an impression in anastasia's favour, and to this miss joliffe agreed with much relief, for she had feared that before the end of the term martin would be off on his travels again, and that she herself would be left to pay. so anastasia went to carisbury, and miss joliffe broke her own rules, and herself incurred a number of small debts because she could not bear to think of her niece going to school with so meagre an equipment as she then possessed, and yet had no ready money to buy better. anastasia remained for two half-years at carisbury. she made such progress with her music that after much wearisome and lifeless practising she could stumble through thalberg's variations on the air of "home, sweet home"; but in french she never acquired the true parisian accent, and would revert at times to the "doo, dellah, derlapostrof, day," of her earlier teaching, though there is no record that these shortcomings were ever a serious drawback to her in after-life. besides such opportunities of improvement, she enjoyed the privilege of association with thirty girls of the upper middle-classes, and ate of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, the fruits of which had hitherto escaped her notice. at the end of her second term, however, she was forced to forego these advantages, for martin had left cullerne without making any permanent provision for his daughter's schooling; and there was in mrs howard's prospectus a law, inexorable as that of gravity, that no pupil shall be permitted to return to the academy whose account for the previous term remains unsettled. thus anastasia's schooling came to an end. there was some excuse put forward that the air of carisbury did not agree with her; and she never knew the real reason till nearly two years later, by which time miss joliffe's industry and self-denial had discharged the greater part of martin's obligation to mrs howard. the girl was glad to remain at cullerne, for she was deeply attached to miss joliffe; but she came back much older in experience; her horizon had widened, and she was beginning to take a more perspective view of life. these enlarged ideas bore fruit both pleasant and unpleasant, for she was led to form a juster estimate of her father's character, and when he next returned she found it difficult to tolerate his selfishness and abuse of his sister's devotion. that this should be so was a cause of great grief to miss joliffe. though she herself felt for her niece a love which had in it something of adoration, she was at the same time conscientious enough to remember that a child's first duty should be towards its parents. thus she forced herself to lament that anastasia should be more closely attached to her than to martin, and if there were times when she could not feel properly dissatisfied that she possessed the first place in her niece's affections, she tried to atone for this frailty by sacrificing opportunities of being with the girl herself, and using every opportunity of bringing her into her father's company. it was a fruitless endeavour, as every endeavour to cultivate affection where no real basis for it exists, must eternally remain fruitless. martin was wearied by his daughter's society, for he preferred to be alone, and set no store by her except as a cooking, house-cleaning, and clothes-mending machine; and anastasia resented this attitude, and could find, moreover, no interest in the torn peerage which was her father's bible, or in the genealogical research and jargon about the nebuly coat which formed the staple of his conversation. later on, when he came back for the last time, her sense of duty enabled her to tend and nurse him with exemplary patience, and to fulfil all those offices of affection which even the most tender filial devotion could have suggested. she tried to believe that his death brought her sorrow and not relief, and succeeded so well that her aunt had no doubts at all upon the subject. martin joliffe's illness and death had added to anastasia's experience of life by bringing her into contact with doctors and clergymen; and it was no doubt this training, and the association with the superior classes afforded by mrs howard's academy, that enabled her to stand the shock of lord blandamer's announcement without giving any more perceptible token of embarrassment than a very slight blush. "oh, of course there is no objection," she said, "to your writing in mr westray's room. i will show you the way to it." she accompanied him to the room, and having provided writing materials, left him comfortably ensconced in mr westray's chair. as she pulled the door to behind her in going out, something prompted her to look round--perhaps it was merely a girl's light fancy, perhaps it was that indefinite fascination which the consciousness that we are being looked at sometimes exercises over us; but as she looked back her eyes met those of lord blandamer, and she shut the door sharply, being annoyed at her own foolishness. she went back to the kitchen, for the kitchen of the hand of god was so large that miss joliffe and anastasia used part of it for their sitting-room, took the pencil out of "northanger abbey," and tried to transport herself to bath. five minutes ago she had been in the grand pump room herself, and knew exactly where mrs allen and isabella thorpe and edward morland were sitting; where catherine was standing, and what john thorpe was saying to her when tilney walked up. but alas! anastasia found no re-admission; the lights were put out, the pump room was in darkness. a sad change to have happened in five minutes; but no doubt the charmed circle had dispersed in a huff on finding that they no longer occupied the first place in miss anastasia joliffe's interest. and, indeed, she missed them the less because she had discovered that she herself possessed a wonderful talent for romance, and had already begun the first chapter of a thrilling story. nearly half an hour passed before her aunt returned, and in the interval miss austen's knights and dames had retired still farther into the background, and miss anastasia's hero had entirely monopolised the stage. it was twenty minutes past five when miss joliffe, senior, returned from the dorcas meeting; "precisely twenty minutes past five," as she remarked many times subsequently, with that factitious importance which the ordinary mind attaches to the exact moment of any epoch-making event. "is the water boiling, my dear?" she asked, sitting down at the kitchen table. "i should like to have tea to-day before the gentlemen come in, if you do not mind. the weather is quite oppressive, and the schoolroom was very close because we only had one window open. poor mrs bulteel is so subject to take cold from draughts, and i very nearly fell asleep while she was reading." "i will get tea at once," anastasia said; and then added, in a tone of fine unconcern: "there is a gentleman waiting upstairs to see mr westray." "my dear," miss joliffe exclaimed deprecatingly, "how could you let anyone in when i was not at home? it is exceedingly dangerous with so many doubtful characters about. there is mr westray's presentation inkstand, and the flower-picture for which i have been offered so much money. valuable paintings are often cut out of their frames; one never has an idea what thieves may do." there was the faintest trace of a smile about anastasia's lips. "i do not think we need trouble about that, dear aunt phemie, because i am sure he is a gentleman. here is his card. look!" she handed miss joliffe the insignificant little piece of white cardboard that held so momentous a secret, and watched her aunt put on her spectacles to read it. miss joliffe focussed the card. there were only two words printed on it, only "lord blandamer" in the most unpretending and simple characters, but their effect was magical. doubt and suspicion melted suddenly away, and a look of radiant surprise overspread her countenance, such as would have become a constantine at the vision of the labarum. she was a thoroughly unworldly woman, thinking little of the things of this life in general, and keeping her affections on that which is to come, with the constancy and realisation that is so often denied to those possessed of larger temporal means. her views as to right and wrong were defined and inflexible; she would have gone to the stake most cheerfully rather than violate them, and unconsciously lamented perhaps that civilisation has robbed the faithful of the luxury of burning. yet with all this were inextricably bound up certain little weaknesses among which figured a fondness for great names, and a somewhat exaggerated consideration for the lofty ones of this earth. had she been privileged to be within the same four walls as a peer at a bazaar or missionary meeting, she would have revelled in a great opportunity; but to find lord blandamer under her own roof was a grace so wondrous and surprising as almost to overwhelm her. "lord blandamer!" she faltered, as soon as she had collected herself a little. "i hope mr westray's room was tidy. i dusted it thoroughly this morning, but i wish he had given some notice of his intention to call. i should be so vexed if he found anything dusty. what is he doing, anastasia? did he say he would wait till mr westray came back?" "he said he would write a note for mr westray. i found him writing things." "i hope you gave his lordship mr westray's presentation inkstand." "no, i did not think of that; but there was the little black inkstand, and plenty of ink in it." "dear me, dear me!" miss joliffe said, ruminating on so extraordinary a position, "to think that lord blandamer, whom no one has ever seen, should have come to cullerne at last, and is now in this very house. i will just change this bonnet for my sunday one," she added, looking at herself in the glass, "and then tell his lordship how very welcome he is, and ask him if i can get anything for him. he will see at once, from my bonnet, that i have only just returned, otherwise it would appear to him very remiss of me not to have paid him my respects before. yes, i think it is undoubtedly more fitting to appear in a bonnet." anastasia was a little perturbed at the idea of her aunt's interview with lord blandamer. she pictured to herself miss joliffe's excess of zeal, the compliments which she would think it necessary to shower upon him the marked attention and homage which he might interpret as servility, though it was only intended as a proper deference to exalted rank. anastasia was quite unaccountably anxious that the family should appear to the distinguished visitor in as favourable a light as possible, and thought for a moment of trying to persuade miss joliffe that there was no need for her to see lord blandamer at all, unless he summoned her. but she was of a philosophic temperament, and in a moment had rebuked her own folly. what could any impression of lord blandamer's matter to her? she would probably never see him again unless she opened the door when he went out. why should he think anything at all about a commonplace lodging-house, and its inmates? and if such trivial matters did ever enter his thoughts, a man so clever as he would make allowance for those of a different station to himself, and would see what a good woman her aunt was in spite of any little mannerisms. so she made no remonstrance, but sat heroically quiet in her chair, and re-opened "northanger abbey" with a determination to entirely forget lord blandamer, and the foolish excitement which his visit had created. chapter eight. miss joliffe must have had a protracted conversation with lord blandamer. to anastasia, waiting in the kitchen, it seemed as if her aunt would never come down. she devoted herself to "northanger abbey" with fierce resolution, but though her eyes followed the lines of type, she had no idea what she was reading, and found herself at last turning the pages so frequently and with so much rustling as to disturb her own reverie. then she shut the book with a bang, got up from her chair, and paced the kitchen till her aunt came back. miss joliffe was full of the visitor's affability. "it is _always_ the way with these really great people, my dear," she said with effusion. "i have _always_ noticed that the nobility are condescending; they adapt themselves so entirely to their surroundings." miss joliffe fell into a common hyperbole in qualifying an isolated action as a habit. she had never before been brought face to face with a peer, yet she represented her first impression of lord blandamer's manner as if it were a mature judgment based upon long experience of those of his rank and position. "i insisted on his using the presentation inkstand, and took away that shabby little black thing; and i could see at once that the silver one was far more like what he had been accustomed to use. he seemed to know something about us, and even asked if the young lady who had shown him in was my niece. that was you; he meant you, anastasia; he asked if it was _you_. i think he must have met dear martin somewhere, but i really was so agitated by such a very unexpected visit that i scarcely took in all he said. yet he was so careful all the time to put me at my ease that at last i ventured to ask him if he would take some light refreshment. `my lord,' i said, `may i be so bold as to offer your lordship a cup of tea? it would be a great honour if you would partake of our humble hospitality.' and what _do_ you think he answered, my dear? `miss joliffe'--and he had such a winning look--`there is nothing i should like better. i am very tired with walking about in the church, and have still some little time to wait, for i am going to london by the evening train.' poor young man! (for lord blandamer was still young in cullerne, which had only known his octogenarian predecessor) he is no doubt called to london on some public business--the house of lords, or the court, or something like that. i wish he would take as much care of himself as he seems to take for others. he looks so very tired, and a sad face too, anastasia, and yet is most considerate. `i should like a cup of tea very much'--those were his exact words--`but you must not trouble to come all the way upstairs again to bring it to me. let me come down and take it with you.' "`forgive me, my lord,' was my answer, `but i could not permit that. our establishment is much too homely, and i shall feel it a privilege to wait on you, if you will kindly excuse my walking-clothes, as i have just come back from an afternoon meeting. my niece often wishes to relieve me, but i tell her my old legs are more active than her young ones even still.'" anastasia's cheeks were red, but she said nothing, and her aunt went on: "so i will take him some tea at once. you can make it, my dear, if you like, but put a great deal more in than we use ourselves. the upper classes have no call to practise economy in such matters, and he is no doubt used to take his tea very strong. i think mr sharnall's teapot is the best, and i will get out the silver sugar-tongs and one of the spoons with the `j' on them." as miss joliffe was taking up the tea, she met westray in the hall. he had just come back from the church, and was not a little concerned at his landlady's greeting. she put down her tray, and, with a fateful gesture and an "oh, mr westray, what do you think?" beckoned him aside into mr sharnall's room. his first impression was that some grave accident had happened, that the organist was dead, or that anastasia joliffe had sprained an ankle; and he was relieved to hear the true state of affairs. he waited a few minutes while miss joliffe took the visitor his tea, and then went upstairs himself. lord blandamer rose. "i must apologise," he said, "for making myself at home in your room; but i hope your landlady may have explained who i am, and how i come to take so great a liberty. i am naturally interested in cullerne and all that concerns it, and hope ere long to get better acquainted with the place--and the people," he added as an after-thought. "at present i know disgracefully little about it, but that is due to my having been abroad for many years; i only came back a few months ago. but i need not bother you with all this; what i really wanted was to ask you if you would give me some idea of the scheme of restoration which it is proposed to undertake at the minster. until last week i had not heard that anything of the kind was in contemplation." his tone was measured, and a clear, deep, voice gave weight and sincerity to his words. his clean-shaven face and olive complexion, his regular features and dark eyebrows, suggested a spaniard to westray as he spoke, and the impression was strengthened by the decorous and grave courtesy of his manner. "i shall be delighted to explain anything i can," said the architect, and took down a bundle of plans and papers from a shelf. "i fear i shall not be able to do much this evening," lord blandamer said; "for i have to catch the train to london in a short time; but, if you will allow me, i will take an early opportunity of coming over again. we might then, perhaps, go to the church together. the building has a great fascination for me, not only on account of its own magnificence, but also from old associations. when i was a boy, and sometimes a very unhappy boy, i used often to come over from fording, and spend hours rambling about the minster. its winding staircases, its dark wall-passages, its mysterious screens and stalls, brought me romantic dreams, from which i think i have never entirely wakened. i am told the building stands in need of extensive restoration, though to the outsider it looks much the same as ever. it always had a dilapidated air." westray gave a short outline of what it was considered should ultimately be done, and of what it was proposed to attack for the present. "you see, we have our work cut out for us," he said. "the transept roof is undoubtedly the most urgent matter, but there are lots of other things that cannot be left to themselves for long. i have grave doubts about the stability of the tower, though my chief doesn't share them to anything like the same extent: and perhaps that is just as well, for we are hampered on every side by lack of funds. they are going to have a bazaar next week to try to give the thing a lift, but a hundred bazaars would not produce half that is wanted." "i gathered that there were difficulties of this kind," the visitor said reflectively. "as i came out of the church after service to-day i met the organist. he had no idea who i was, but gave his views very strongly as to lord blandamer's responsibilities for things in general, and for the organ in particular. we are, i suppose, under some sort of moral obligation for the north transept, from having annexed it as a burying-place. it used to be called, i fancy, the blandamer aisle." "yes, it is called so still," westray answered. he was glad to see the turn the conversation had taken, and hoped that a _deus ex machina_ had appeared. lord blandamer's next question was still more encouraging. "at what do you estimate the cost of the transept repairs?" westray ran through his papers till he found a printed leaflet with a view of cullerne minster on the outside. "here are sir george farquhar's figures," he said. "this was a circular that was sent everywhere to invite subscriptions, but it scarcely paid the cost of printing. no one will give a penny to these things nowadays. here it is, you see--seven thousand eight hundred pounds for the north transept." there was a little pause. westray did not look up, being awkwardly conscious that the sum was larger than lord blandamer had anticipated, and fearing that such an abrupt disclosure might have damped the generosity of an intended contributor. lord blandamer changed the subject. "who is the organist? i rather liked his manner, for all he took me so sharply, if impersonally, to task. he seems a clever musician, but his instrument is in a shocking state." "he _is_ a very clever organist," westray answered. it was evident that lord blandamer was in a subscribing frame of mind, and if his generosity did not extend to undertaking the cost of the transept, he might at least give something towards the organ. the architect tried to do his friend mr sharnall a service. "he is a very clever organist," he repeated; "his name is sharnall, and he lodges in this house. shall i call him? would you like to ask him about the organ?" "oh no, not now; i have so little time; another day we can have a chat. surely a very little money--comparatively little money, i mean--would put the organ in proper repair. did they never approach my grandfather, the late lord blandamer, on the question of funds for these restorations?" westray's hopes of a contribution were again dashed, and he felt a little contemptuous at such evasions. they came with an ill grace after lord blandamer's needlessly affectionate panegyric of the church. "yes," he said; "canon parkyn, the rector here, wrote to the late lord blandamer begging for a subscription to the restoration fund for the church, but never got any answer." westray flung something like a sneer into his tone, and was already sorry for his ungracious words before he had finished speaking. but the other seemed to take no offence, where some would have been offended. "ah," he said, "my grandfather was no doubt a very sad old man indeed. i must go now, or i shall miss my train. you shall introduce me to mr sharnall the next time i come to cullerne; i have your promise, remember, to take me over the church. is it not so?" "yes--oh yes, certainly," westray said, though with less cordiality perhaps than he had used on the previous occasion. he was disappointed that lord blandamer had promised no subscription, and accompanied him to the foot of the stairs with much the same feelings as a shop-assistant entertains for the lady who, having turned over goods for half an hour, retreats with the promise that she will consider the matter and call again. miss joliffe had been waiting on the kitchen stairs, and so was able to meet lord blandamer in the hall quite accidentally. she showed him out of the front-door with renewed professions of respect, for she knew nothing of his niggardly evasions of a subscription, and in her eyes a lord was still a lord. he added the comble to all his graces and courtesies by shaking her hand as he left the house, and expressing a hope that she would be so kind as to give him another cup of tea, the very next time he was in cullerne. the light was failing as lord blandamer descended the flight of steps outside the door of bellevue lodge. the evening must have closed in earlier than usual, for very soon after the visitor had gone upstairs anastasia found it too dark to read in the kitchen; so she took her book, and sat in the window-seat of mr sharnall's room. it was a favourite resort of hers, both when mr sharnall was out, and also when he was at home; for he had known her from childhood, and liked to watch the graceful girlish form as she read quietly while he worked at his music. the deep window-seat was panelled in painted deal, and along the side of it hung a faded cushion, which could be turned over on to the sill when the sash was thrown up, so as to form a rest for the arms of anyone who desired to look out on a summer evening. the window was still open, though it was dusk; but anastasia's head, which just appeared above the sill, was screened from observation by a low blind. this blind was formed of a number of little green wooden slats, faded and blistered by the suns of many summers, and so arranged that, by the turning of a brass, urn-shaped knob, they could be made to open and afford a prospect of the outer world to anyone sitting inside. it had been for some time too dark for anastasia to read, but she still sat in the window-seat; and as she heard lord blandamer come down the stairs, she turned the brass urn so as to command a view of the street. she felt herself blushing in the dusk, at the reiterated and voluminous compliments which her aunt was paying in the hall. she blushed because westray's tone was too off-handed and easy towards so important a personage to please her critical mood; and then she blushed again at her own folly in blushing. the front-door shut at last, and the gaslight fell on lord blandamer's active figure and straight, square shoulders as he went down the steps. three thousand years before, another maiden had looked between the doorpost and the door, at the straight broad back of another great stranger as he left her father's palace; but anastasia was more fortunate than nausicaa, for there is no record that ulysses cast any backward glance as he walked down to the phaeacian ship, and lord blandamer did turn and look back. he turned and looked back; he seemed to anastasia to look between the little blistered slats into her very eyes. of course, he could not have guessed that a very foolish girl, the niece of a very foolish landlady in a very commonplace lodging-house, in a very commonplace country town, was watching him behind a shutter; but he turned and looked, and anastasia stayed for half an hour after he had gone, thinking of the hard and clean-cut face that she had seen for an instant in the flickering gaslight. it was a hard face, and as she sat in the dark with closed eyes, and saw that face again and again in her mind, she knew that it was hard. it was hard--it was almost cruel. no, it was not cruel, but only recklessly resolved, with a resolution that would not swerve from cruelty, if cruelty were needed to accomplish its purpose. thus she reasoned in the approved manner of fiction. she knew that such reasonings were demanded of heroines. a heroine must be sadly unworthy of her lofty role if she could not with a glance unmask even the most enigmatic countenance, and trace the passions writ in it, clearly as a page of "reading without tears." and was she, anastasia, to fall short in such a simple craft? no, she had measured the man's face in a moment; it was resolved, even to cruelty. it was hard, but ah! how handsome! and she remembered how the grey eyes had met hers and blinded them with power, when she first saw him on the doorstep. wondrous musings, wondrous thought-reading, by a countrified young lady in her teens; but is it not out of the mouths of babes and sucklings that strength has been eternally ordained? she was awakened from her reverie by the door being flung open, and she leapt from her perch as mr sharnall entered the room. "heyday! heyday!" he said, "what have we here? fire out, and window open; missy dreaming of sir arthur bedevere, and catching a cold--a very poetic cold in the head." his words jarred on her mood like the sharpening of a slate-pencil. she said nothing, but brushed by him, shut the door behind her, and left him muttering in the dark. the excitement of lord blandamer's visit had overtaxed miss joliffe. she took the gentlemen their supper--and mr westray was supping in mr sharnall's room that evening--and assured anastasia that she was not in the least tired. but ere long she was forced to give up this pretence, and to take refuge in a certain high-backed chair with ears, which stood in a corner of the kitchen, and was only brought into use in illness or other emergency. the bell rang for supper to be taken away, but miss joliffe was fast asleep, and did not hear it. anastasia was not allowed to "wait" under ordinary circumstances, but her aunt must not be disturbed when she was so tired, and she took the tray herself and went upstairs. "he is a striking-looking man enough," westray was saying as she entered the room; "but i must say he did not impress me favourably in other respects. he spoke too enthusiastically about the church. it would have sat on him with a very good grace if he had afterwards come down with five hundred pounds, but ecstasies are out of place when a man won't give a halfpenny to turn them into reality." "he is a chip of the old block," said the organist. "`_leap year's february twenty-nine days, and on the thirtieth blandamer pays_.' "that's a saw about here. well, i rubbed it into him this afternoon, and all the harder because i hadn't the least idea who he was." there was a fierce colour in anastasia's cheeks as she packed the dirty plates and supper debris into the tray, and a fiercer feeling in her heart. she tried hard to conceal her confusion, and grew more confused in the effort. the organist watched her closely, without ever turning his eyes in her direction. he was a cunning little man, and before the table was cleared had guessed who was the hero of those dreams, from which he had roused her an hour earlier. westray waved away with his hand a puff of smoke which drifted into his face from mr sharnall's pipe. "he asked me whether anyone had ever approached the old lord about the restoration, and i said the rector had written, and never got an answer." "it wasn't to the _old_ lord he wrote," mr sharnall cut in; "it was to this very man. didn't you know it was to this very man? no one ever thought it worth ink and paper to write to _old_ blandamer. i was the only one, fool enough to do that. i had an appeal for the organ printed once upon a time, and sent him a copy, and asked him to head the list. after a bit he sent me a cheque for ten shillings and sixpence; and then i wrote and thanked him, and said it would do very nicely to put a new leg on the organ-stool if one should ever break. but he had the last word, for when i went to the bank to cash the cheque, i found it stopped." westray laughed with a thin and tinkling merriment that irritated anastasia more than an honest guffaw. "when he stuck at seven thousand eight hundred pounds for the church, i tried to give _you_ a helping hand with the organ. i told him you lived in the house; would he not like to see you? `oh no, not _now_,' he said; `some other day.'" "he is a chip of the old block," the organist said again bitterly. "gather figs of thistles, if you will, but don't expect money from blandamers." anastasia's thumb went into the curry as she lifted the dish, but she did not notice it. she was only eager to get away, to place herself outside the reach of these slanderous tongues, to hide herself where she could unburden her heart of its bitterness. mr sharnall fired one more shaft at her as she left the room. "he takes after his grandfather in other ways besides close-fistedness. the old man had a bad enough name with women, and this man has a worse. they are a poor lot--lock, stock, and barrel." lord blandamer had certainly been unhappy in the impression which he created at bellevue lodge; a young lady had diagnosed his countenance as hard and cruel, an architect had detected niggardliness in his disposition, and an organist was resolved to regard him at all hazards as a personal foe. it was fortunate indeed for his peace of mind that he was completely unaware of this, but, then, he might not perhaps have troubled much even if he had known all about it. the only person who had a good word for him was miss euphemia joliffe. she woke up flushed, but refreshed, after her nap, and found the supper-things washed and put away in their places. "my dear, my dear," she said deprecatingly, "i am afraid i have been asleep, and left all the work to you. you should not have done this, anastasia. you ought to have awakened me." the flesh was weak, and she was forced to hold her hand before her mouth for a moment to conceal a yawn; but her mind reverted instinctively to the great doings of the day, and she said with serene reflection: "a very remarkable man, so dignified and yet so affable, and _very_ handsome too, my dear." chapter nine. among the letters which the postman brought to bellevue lodge on the morning following these remarkable events was an envelope which possessed a dreadful fascination. it bore a little coronet stamped in black upon the flap, and "edward westray, esquire, bellevue lodge, cullerne," written on the front in a bold and clear hand. but this was not all, for low in the left corner was the inscription "blandamer." a single word, yet fraught with so mystical an import that it set anastasia's heart beating fast as she gave it to her aunt, to be taken upstairs with the architect's breakfast. "there is a letter for you, sir, from lord blandamer," miss joliffe said, as she put down the tray on the table. but the architect only grunted, and went on with ruler and compass at the plan with which he was busy. miss joliffe would have been more than woman had she not felt a burning curiosity to know the contents of so important a missive; and to leave a nobleman's letter neglected on the table seemed to her little short of sacrilege. never had breakfast taken longer to lay, and still there was the letter lying by the tin cover, which (so near is grandeur to our dust) concealed a simple bloater. poor miss joliffe made a last effort ere she left the room to bring westray to a proper appreciation of the situation. "there is a letter for you, sir; i think it is from lord blandamer." "yes, yes," the architect said sharply; "i will attend to it presently." and so she retired, routed. westray's nonchalance had been in part assumed. he was anxious to show that he, at any rate, could rise superior to artificial distinctions of rank, and was no more to be impressed by peers than peasants. he kept up this philosophic indifference even after miss joliffe left the room; for he took life very seriously, and felt his duty towards himself to be at least as important as that towards his neighbours. resolution lasted till the second cup of tea, and then he opened the letter. "dear sir" (it began), "i understood from you yesterday that the repairs to the north transept of cullerne minster are estimated to cost 7,800 pounds. this charge i should like to bear myself, and thus release for other purposes of restoration the sum already collected. i am also prepared to undertake whatever additional outlay is required to put the whole building in a state of substantial repair. will you kindly inform sir george farquhar of this, and ask him to review the scheme of restoration as modified by these considerations? i shall be in cullerne on saturday next, and hope i may find you at home if i call about five in the afternoon, and that you may then have time to show me the church. "i am, dear sir, "very truly yours, "blandamer." westray had scanned the letter so rapidly that he knew its contents by intuition rather than by the more prosaic method of reading. nor did he re-read it several times, as is generally postulated by important communications in fiction; he simply held it in his hand, and crumpled it unconsciously, while he thought. he was surprised, and he was pleased--pleased at the wider vista of activity that lord blandamer's offer opened, and pleased that he should be chosen as the channel through which an announcement of such gravity was to be made. he felt, in short, that pleasurable and confused excitement, that mental inebriation, which unexpected good fortune is apt to produce in any except the strongest minds, and went down to mr sharnall's room still crumpling the letter in his hand. the bloater was left to waste its sweetness on the morning air. "i have just received some extraordinary news," he said, as he opened the door. mr sharnall was not altogether unprepared, for miss joliffe had already informed him that a letter from lord blandamer had arrived for mr westray; so he only said "ah!" in a tone that implied compassion for the lack of mental balance which allowed westray to be so easily astonished, and added "ah, yes?" as a manifesto that no sublunary catastrophe could possibly astonish him, mr sharnall. but westray's excitement was cold-waterproof, and he read the letter aloud with much jubilation. "well," said the organist, "i don't see much in it; seven thousand pounds is nothing to him. when we have done all that we ought to do, we are unprofitable servants." "it isn't only seven thousand pounds; don't you see he gives carte-blanche for repairs in general? why, it may be thirty or forty thousand, or even more." "don't you wish you may get it?" the organist said, raising his eyebrows and shutting his eyelids. westray was nettled. "oh, i think it's mean to sneer at everything the man does. we abused him yesterday as a niggard; let us have the grace to-day to say we were mistaken." he was afflicted with the over-scrupulosity of a refined, but strictly limited mind, and his conscience smote him. "i, at any rate, was quite mistaken," he went on; "i quite misinterpreted his hesitation when i mentioned the cost of the transept repairs." "your chivalrous sentiments do you the greatest credit," the organist said, "and i congratulate you on being able to change your ideas so quickly. as for me, i prefer to stick to my first opinion. it is all humbug; either he doesn't mean to pay, or else he has some plan of his own to push. _i_ wouldn't touch his money with a barge-pole." "oh no, of course not," westray said, with the exaggerated sarcasm of a schoolboy in his tone. "if he was to offer a thousand pounds to restore the organ, you wouldn't take a penny of it." "he hasn't offered a thousand yet," rejoined the organist; "and when he does, i'll send him away with a flea in his ear." "that's a very encouraging announcement for would-be contributors," westray sneered; "they ought to come forward very strongly after that." "well, i must get on with some copying," the organist said dryly; and westray went back to the bloater. if mr sharnall was thus pitiably wanting in appreciation of a munificent offer, the rest of cullerne made no pretence of imitating his example. westray was too elated to keep the good news to himself, nor did there appear, indeed, to be any reason for making a secret of it. so he told the foreman-mason, and mr janaway the clerk, and mr noot the curate, and lastly canon parkyn the rector, whom he certainly ought to have told the first of all. thus, before the carillon of saint sepulchre's played "new sabbath" [see appendix at the end of the volume] at three o'clock that afternoon, the whole town was aware that the new lord blandamer had been among them, and had promised to bear the cost of restoring the great minster of which they were all so proud--so very much more proud when their pride entailed no sordid considerations of personal subscription. canon parkyn was ruffled. mrs parkyn perceived it when he came in to dinner at one o'clock, but, being a prudent woman, she did not allude directly to his ill-humour, though she tried to dispel it by leading the conversation to topics which experience had shown her were soothing to him. among such the historic visit of sir george farquhar, and the deference which he had paid to the rector's suggestions, occupied a leading position: but the mention of the great architect's name, was a signal for a fresh exhibition of vexation on her husband's part. "i wish," he said, "that sir george would pay a little more personal attention to the work at the minster. his representative, this mr-er--er--this mr westray, besides being, i fear, very inexperienced and deficient in architectural knowledge, is a most conceited young man, and constantly putting himself forward in an unbecoming way. he came to me this morning with an exceedingly strange communication--a letter from lord blandamer." mrs parkyn laid down her knife and fork. "a letter from lord blandamer?" she said in unconcealed amazement--"a letter from lord blandamer to mr westray!" "yes," the rector went on, losing some of his annoyance in the pleasurable consciousness that his words created a profound sensation--"a letter in which his lordship offers to bear in the first place the cost of the repairs of the north transept, and afterwards to make good any deficiency in the funds required for the restoration of the rest of the fabric. of course, i am very loth to question any action taken by a member of the upper house, but at the same time i am compelled to characterise the proceeding as most irregular. that such a communication should be made to a mere clerk of the works, instead of to the rector and duly appointed guardian of the sacred edifice, is so grave a breach of propriety that i am tempted to veto the matter entirely, and to refuse to accept this offer." his face wore a look of sublime dignity, and he addressed his wife as if she were a public meeting. _ruat coelum_, canon parkyn was not to be moved a hair's-breadth from the line traced by propriety and rectitude. he knew in his inmost heart that under no possible circumstances would he have refused any gift that was offered him, yet his own words had about them so heroic a ring that for a moment he saw himself dashing lord blandamer's money on the floor, as early christians had flung to the wind that pinch of incense that would have saved them from the lions. "i think i _must_ refuse this offer," he repeated. mrs parkyn knew her husband intimately--more intimately, perhaps, than he knew himself--and had an additional guarantee that the discussion was merely academic in the certainty that, even were he really purposed to refuse the offer, she would not _allow_ him to do so. yet she played the game, and feigned to take him seriously. "i quite appreciate your scruples, my dear; they are just what anyone who knew you would expect. it is a positive affront that you should be told of such a proposal by this impertinent young man; and lord blandamer has so strange a reputation himself that one scarcely knows how far it is right to accept anything from him for sacred purposes. i honour your reluctance. perhaps it _would_ be right for you to decline this proposal, or, at any rate, to take time for consideration." the rector looked furtively at his wife. he was a little alarmed at her taking him so readily at his word. he had hoped that she would be dismayed--that she could have brought proper arguments to bear to shake his high resolve. "ah, your words have unwittingly reminded me of my chief difficulty in refusing. it is the sacred purpose which makes me doubt my own judgment. it would be a painful reflection to think that the temple should suffer by my refusing this gift. maybe i should be yielding to my own petulance or personal motives if i were to decline. i must not let my pride stand in the way of higher obligations." he concluded in his best pulpit manner, and the farce was soon at an end. it was agreed that the gift must be accepted, that proper measures should be taken to rebuke mr westray's presumption, as _he_ had no doubt induced lord blandamer to select so improper a channel of communication, and that the rector should himself write direct to thank the noble donor. so, after dinner, canon parkyn retired to his "study," and composed a properly fulsome letter, in which he attributed all the noblest possible motives and qualities to lord blandamer, and invoked all the most unctuously conceived blessings upon his head. and at teatime the letter was perused and revised by mrs parkyn, who added some finishing touches of her own, especially a preamble which stated that canon parkyn had been informed by the clerk of the works that lord blandamer had expressed a desire to write to canon parkyn to make a certain offer, but had asked the clerk of the works to find out first whether such an offer would be acceptable to canon parkyn, and a peroration which hoped that lord blandamer would accept the hospitality of the rectory on the occasion of his next visit to cullerne. the letter reached lord blandamer at fording the next morning as he sat over a late breakfast, with a virgil open on the table by his coffee-cup. he read the rector's stilted periods without a smile, and made a mental note that he would at once send a specially civil acknowledgment. then he put it carefully into his pocket, and turned back to the _di patrii indigetes et romule vestaque mater_ of the first georgic, which he was committing to memory, and banished the invitation so completely from his mind that he never thought of it again till he was in cullerne a week later. lord blandamer's visit, and the offer which he had made for the restoration of the church, formed the staple of cullerne conversation for a week. all those who had been fortunate enough to see or to speak to him discussed him with one another, and compared notes. scarcely a detail of his personal appearance, of his voice or manner escaped them; and so infectious was this interest that some who had never seen him at all were misled by their excitement into narrating how he had stopped them in the street to ask the way to the architect's lodgings, and how he had made so many striking and authentic remarks that it was wonderful that he had ever reached bellevue lodge at all that night. clerk janaway, who was sorely chagrined to think that he should have missed an opportunity of distinguished converse, declared that he had felt the stranger's grey eyes go through and through him like a knife, and had only made believe to stop him entering the choir, in order to convince himself by the other's masterful insistence that his own intuition was correct. he had known all the time, he said, that he was speaking to none other than lord blandamer. westray thought the matter important enough to justify him in going to london to consult sir george farquhar, as to the changes in the scheme of restoration which lord blandamer's munificence made possible; but mr sharnall, at any rate, was left to listen to miss joliffe's recollections, surmises, and panegyrics. in spite of all the indifference which the organist had affected when he first heard the news, he showed a surprising readiness to discuss the affair with all comers, and exhibited no trace of his usual impatience with miss joliffe, so long as she was talking of lord blandamer. to anastasia it seemed as if he could talk of nothing else, and the more she tried to check him by her silence or by change of subject, the more bitterly did he return to the attack. the only person to exhibit no interest in this unhappy nobleman, who had outraged propriety by offering to contribute to the restoration of the minster, was anastasia herself; and even tolerant miss joliffe was moved to chide her niece's apathy in this particular. "i do not think it becomes us, love, young or old, to take so little notice of great and good deeds. mr sharnall is, i fear, discontented with the station of life to which it has pleased providence to call him, and i am less surprised at _his_ not always giving praise where praise should be given; but with the young it is different. i am sure if anyone had offered to restore wydcombe church when i was a girl--and specially a nobleman--i should have been as delighted, or nearly as delighted, as if he--as if i had been given a new frock." she altered the "as if he had given me" which was upon her tongue because the proposition, even for purposes of illustration, that a nobleman could ever have offered her a new frock seemed to have in itself something of the scandalous and unfitting. "i should have been delighted, but, dear me! in those days people were so blind as never to think of restorations. we used to sit in quite _comfortable_ seats every sunday, with cushions and hassocks, and the aisles were paved with flagstones--simple worn flagstones, and none of the caustic tiles which look so much more handsome; though i am always afraid i am going to slip, and glad to be off them, they are so hard and shiny. church matters were very behindhand then. all round the walls were tablets that people had put up to their relations, white caskets on black marble slates, and urns and cherubs' heads, and just opposite where i used to sit a poor lady, whose name i have forgotten, weeping under a willow-tree. no doubt they were very much out of place in the sanctuary, as the young gentleman said in his lecture on `how to make our churches beautiful' in the town hall last winter. he called them `mural blisters,' my dear, but there was no talk of removing them in my young days, and that was, i dare say, because there was no one to give the money for it. but now, here is this good young nobleman, lord blandamer, come forward so handsomely, and i have no doubt at cullerne all will be much improved ere long. we are not meant to _loll_ at our devotions, as the lecturer told us. that was his word, to `_loll_'; and they will be sure to take away the baize and hassocks, though i do hope there will be a little strip of _something_ on the seats; the bare wood is apt to make one ache sometimes. i should not say it to anyone else in the world but you, but it _does_ make me ache a little sometimes; and when the caustic is put down in the aisle, i shall take your arm, my dear, to save me from slipping. here is lord blandamer going to do all this for us, and you do not show yourself in the least grateful. it is not becoming in a young girl." "dear aunt, what would you have me do? i cannot go and thank him publicly in the name of the town. that would be still more unbecoming; and i am sure i hope they will not do all the dreadful things in the church that you speak of. i love the old monuments, and like _lolling_ much better than bare forms." so she would laugh the matter off; but if she could not be induced to talk of lord blandamer, she thought of him the more, and rehearsed again and again in day-dreams and in night-dreams every incident of that momentous saturday afternoon, from the first bars of the overture, when he had revealed in so easy and simple a way that he was none other than lord blandamer, to the ringing down of the curtain, when he turned to look back--to that glance when his eyes had seemed to meet hers, although she was hidden behind a blind, and he could not have guessed that she was there. westray came back from london with the scheme of restoration reconsidered and amplified in the light of altered circumstances, and with a letter for lord blandamer in which sir george farquhar hoped that the munificent donor would fix a day on which sir george might come down to cullerne to offer his respects, and to discuss the matter in person. westray had looked forward all the week to the appointment which he had with lord blandamer for five o'clock on the saturday afternoon, and had carefully thought out the route which he would pursue in taking him round the church. he returned to bellevue lodge at a quarter to five, and found his visitor already awaiting him. miss joliffe was, as usual, at her saturday meeting, but anastasia told westray that lord blandamer had been waiting more than half an hour. "i must apologise, my lord, for keeping you waiting," westray said, as he went in. "i feared i had made some mistake in the time of our meeting, but i see it _was_ five that your note named." and he held out the open letter which he had taken from his pocket. "the mistake is entirely mine," lord blandamer admitted with a smile, as he glanced at his own instructions; "i fancied i had said four o'clock; but i have been very glad of a few minutes to write one or two letters." "we can post them on our way to the church; they will just catch the mail." "ah, then i must wait till to-morrow; there are some enclosures which i have not ready at this moment." they set out together for the minster, and lord blandamer looked back as they crossed the street. "the house has a good deal of character," he said, "and might be made comfortable enough with a little repair. i must ask my agent to see what can be arranged; it does not do me much credit as landlord in its present state." "yes, it has a good many interesting features," westray answered; "you know its history, of course--i mean that it was an old inn." he had turned round as his companion turned, and for an instant thought he saw something moving behind the blind in mr sharnall's room. but he must have been mistaken; only anastasia was in the house, and she was in the kitchen, for he had called to her as they went out to say that he might be late for tea. westray thoroughly enjoyed the hour and a half which the light allowed him for showing and explaining the church. lord blandamer exhibited what is called, so often by euphemism, an intelligent interest in all that he saw, and was at no pains either to conceal or display a very adequate architectural knowledge. westray wondered where he had acquired it, though he asked no questions; but before the inspection was ended he found himself unconsciously talking to his companion of technical points, as to a professional equal and not to an amateur. they stopped for a moment under the central tower. "i feel especially grateful," westray said, "for your generosity in giving us a free hand for all fabric work, because we shall now be able to tackle the tower. nothing will ever induce me to believe that all is right up there. the arches are extraordinarily wide and thin for their date. you will laugh when i tell you that i sometimes think i hear them crying for repair, and especially that one on the south with the jagged crack in the wall above it. now and then, when i am alone in the church or the tower, i seem to catch their very words. `the arch never sleeps,' they say; `we never sleep.'" "it is a romantic idea," lord blandamer said. "architecture is poetry turned into stone, according to the old aphorism, and you, no doubt, have something of the poet in you." he glanced at the thin and rather bloodless face, and at the high cheekbones of the water-drinker as he spoke. lord blandamer never made jokes, and very seldom was known to laugh, yet if anyone but westray had been with him, they might have fancied that there was a whimsical tone in his words, and a trace of amusement in the corners of his eyes. but the architect did not see it, and coloured slightly as he went on: "well, perhaps you are right; i suppose architecture does inspire one. the first verses i ever wrote, or the first, at least, that i ever had printed, were on the apse of tewkesbury abbey. they came out in the _gloucester herald_, and i dare say i shall scribble something about these arches some day." "do," said lord blandamer, "and send me a copy. this place ought to have its poet, and it is much safer to write verses to arches than to arched eyebrows." westray coloured again, and put his hand in his breast-pocket. could he have been so foolish as to leave those half-finished lines on his desk for lord blandamer or anyone else to see? no, they were quite safe; he could feel the sharp edge of the paper folded lengthways, which differentiated them from ordinary letters. "we shall just have time to go up to the roof-space, if you care to do so," he suggested, changing the subject. "i should like to show you the top of the transept groining, and explain what we are busy with at present. it is always more or less dark up there, but we shall find lanterns." "certainly, with much pleasure." and they climbed the newel staircase that was carried in the north-east pier. clerk janaway had been hovering within a safe distance of them as they went their round. he was nominally busy in "putting things straight" for the sunday, before the church was shut up; and had kept as much out of sight as was possible, remembering how he had withstood lord blandamer to the face a week before. yet he was anxious to meet him, as it were, by accident, and explain that he had acted in ignorance of the real state of affairs; but no favourable opportunity for such an explanation presented itself. the pair had gone up to the roof, and the clerk was preparing to lock up--for westray had a key of his own--when he heard someone coming up the nave. it was mr sharnall, who carried a pile of music-books under his arm. "hallo!" he said to the clerk, "what makes _you_ so late? i expected to have to let myself in. i thought you would have been off an hour ago." "well, things took a bit longer to-night than usual to put away." he broke off, for there was a little noise somewhere above them in the scaffolding, and went on in what was meant for a whisper: "mr westray's taking his lordship round; they're up in the roof now. d'ye hear 'em?" "lordship! what lordship? d'you mean that fellow blandamer?" "yes, that's just who i do mean. but i don't know as how he's a fellow, and he _is_ a lordship; so that's why i call him a lordship and not a fellow. and mid i ask what he's been doing to set _your_ back up? why don't you wait here for him, and talk to him about the organ? maybe, now he's in the giving mood, he'd set it right for 'ee, or anyways give 'ee that little blowin'-engine you talk so much about. why do 'ee always go about showin' your teeth?--metaforally, i mean, for you haven't that many real ones left to make much show--why ain't you like other folk sometimes? shall i tell 'ee? 'cause you wants to be young when you be old, and rich when you be poor. that's why. that makes 'ee miserable, and then you drinks to drown it. take my advice, and act like other folk. i'm nigh a score of years older than you, and take a vast more pleasure in my life than when i was twenty. the neighbours and their ways tickle me now, and my pipe's sweeter; and there's many a foolish thing a young man does that age don't give an old one the chanst to. you've spoke straight to me, and now i've spoke straight to you, 'cause i'm a straight-speaking man, and have no call to be afraid of anyone--lord or fellow or organist. so take an old man's word: cheer up, and wait on my lord, and get him to give 'ee a new organ." "bah!" said mr sharnall, who was far too used to janaway's manner to take umbrage or pay attention to it. "bah! i hate all blandamers. i wish they were as dead and buried as dodos; and i'm not at all sure they aren't. i'm not at all sure, mind you, that this strutting peacock has any more right to the name of blandamer than you or i have. i'm sick of all this wealth. no one's thought anything of to-day, who can't build a church or a museum or a hospital. `so long as thou doest well unto _thyself_, men will speak good of thee.' if you've got the money, you're everything that's wonderful, and if you haven't, you may go rot. i wish all blandamers were in their graves," he said, raising his thin and strident voice till it rang again in the vault above, "and wrapped up in their nebuly coat for a shroud. i should like to fling a stone through their damned badge." and he pointed to the sea-green and silver shield high up in the transept window. "sunlight and moonlight, it is always there. i used to like to come down and play here to the bats of a full moon, till i saw _that_ would always look into the loft and haunt me." he thumped his pile of books down on a seat, and flung out of the church. he had evidently been drinking, and the clerk made his escape at the same time, being anxious not to be identified with sentiments which had been so loudly enunciated that he feared those in the roof might have overheard them. lord blandamer wished westray good-night at the church-door, excusing himself from an invitation to tea on the ground of business which necessitated his return to fording. "we must spend another afternoon in the minster," he said. "i hope you will allow me to write to make an appointment. i am afraid that it may possibly be for a saturday again, for i am much occupied at present during the week." -----------------------------------------------------------------------clerk janaway lived not far from the church, in governor's lane. no one knew whence its name was derived, though dr ennefer thought that the military governour might have had his quarters thereabouts when cullerne was held for the parliament. serving as a means of communication between two quiet back-streets, it was itself more quiet than either, and yet; for all this, had about it a certain air of comfort and well-being. the passage of vehicles was barred at either end by old cannon. their breeches were buried in the ground, and their muzzles stood up as sturdy iron posts, while the brown cobbles of the roadway sloped to a shallow stone gutter which ran down the middle of the lane. custom ordained that the houses should be coloured with a pink wash; and the shutters, which were a feature of the place, shone in such bright colours as to recall a dutch town. shutter-painting was indeed an event of some importance in governour's lane. not a few of its inhabitants had followed the sea as fishermen or smack-owners, and when fortune so smiled on them that they could retire, and there were no more boats to be painted, shutters and doors and window-frames came in to fill the gap. so, on a fine morning, when the turpentine oozing from cracks, and the warm smell of blistering varnish brought to governour's lane the first tokens of returning summer, might have been seen sexagenarians and septuagenarians, and some so strong that they had come to fourscore years, standing paint-pot and paint-brush in hand, while they gave a new coat to the woodwork of their homes. they were a kindly folk, open of face, and fresh-complexioned, broad in the beam, and vested as to their bodies in dark blue, brass-buttoned pilot coats. insuperable smokers, inexhaustible yarn-spinners, they had long welcomed janaway as a kindred spirit--the more so that in their view a clerk and grave-digger was in some measure an expert in things unseen, who might anon assist in piloting them on that last cruise for which some had already the blue peter at the fore. a myrtle-bush which grew out of a hole in the cobbles was carefully trained against the front of a cottage in the middle of the row, and a brass plate on the door informed the wayfarer and ignorant man that "t. janaway, sexton," dwelt within. about eight o'clock on the saturday evening, some two hours after lord blandamer and westray had parted, the door of the myrtle-fronted cottage was open, and the clerk stood on the threshold smoking his pipe, while from within came a cheerful, ruddy light and a well-defined smell of cooking; for mrs janaway was preparing supper. "tom," she called, "shut the door, and come to thy victuals." "ay," he answered, "i'll be with 'ee directly; but gi'e me a minute. i want to see who this is coming up the lane." someone that the clerk knew at once for a stranger had entered the little street at the bottom. there was half a moon, and light enough to see that he was in search of some particular house; for he crossed from one side of the lane to the other, and peered at the numbers on the doors. as he came nearer, the clerk saw that he was of spare build, and wore a loose overcoat or cape, which fluttered in the breeze that blew at evening from the sea. a moment later janaway knew that the stranger was lord blandamer, and stepped back instinctively to let him pass. but the open door had caught the attention of the passer-by; he stopped, and greeted the householder cheerily. "a beautiful night, but with a cold touch in the air that makes your warm room look very cheerful." he recognised the clerk's face as he spoke, and went on: "ah, ha! we are old friends already; we met in the minster a week ago, did we not?" mr janaway was a little disconcerted at the unexpectedness of the meeting, and returned the salutation in a confused way. the attempt which he had made to prevent lord blandamer from entering the choir was fresh in his memory, and he stammered some unready excuses. lord blandamer smiled with much courtesy. "you were quite right to stop me; you would have been neglecting your duty if you had not done so. i had no idea that service was going on, or i should not have come in; you may make your mind quite easy on that score. i hope you will have many more opportunities of finding a place for me in cullerne church." "no need to find any place for _you_, my lord. you have your own seat appointed and fixed, as sure as canon parkyn, and your own arms painted up clear on the back of it. don't you trouble for that. it is all laid down in the statutes, and i shall make the very same obeisance for your lordship when you take your seat as for my lord bishop. `two inclinations of the body, the mace being held in the right hand, and supported on the left arm.' i cannot say more fair than that, for only royalties have three inclinations, and none of them has ever been to church in my time--no, nor yet a lord blandamer neither, since the day that your dear father and mother, what you never knew, was buried." mrs janaway drummed with her knuckles on the supper-table, in amazement that her husband should dare to stand chattering at the door when she had told him that the meal was ready. but, as the conversation revealed by degrees the stranger's identity, curiosity to see the man whose name was in all cullerne mouths got the better of her, and she came curtseying to the door. lord blandamer flung the flapping cape of his overcoat over the left shoulder in a way that made the clerk think of foreigners, and of woodcuts of italian opera in a bound volume of the _illustrated london news_ which he studied on sunday evenings. "i must be moving on," said the visitor, with a shiver. "i must not keep you standing here; there is a very chill air this evening." then mrs janaway was seized with a sudden temerity. "will your lordship not step in and warm yourself for a moment?" she interposed. "we have a clear fire burning, if you will overlook the smell of cooking." the clerk trembled for a moment at his wife's boldness, but lord blandamer accepted the invitation with alacrity. "thank you very much," said he; "i should be very glad to rest a few minutes before my train leaves. pray make no apology for the smell of cookery; it is very appetising, especially at supper-time." he spoke as if he took supper every evening, and had never heard of a late dinner in his life; and five minutes later he sat at table with mr and mrs janaway. the cloth was of roughest homespun, but clean; the knives and forks handled in old green horn, and the piece-of-resistance tripe; but the guest made an excellent meal. "some folk think highly of squash tripe or ribband tripe," the clerk said meditatively, looking at the empty dish; "but they don't compare, according to my taste, with cushion tripe." he was emboldened to make these culinary remarks by that moral elevation which comes to every properly-constituted host, when a guest has eaten heartily of the viands set before him. "no," lord blandamer said, "there can be no doubt that cushion tripe is the best." "quite as much depends upon the cooking as upon the tripe itself," remarked mrs janaway, bridling at the thought that her art had been left out of the reckoning; "a bad cook will spoil the best tripe. there are many ways of doing it, but a little milk and a leek is the best for me." "you cannot beat it," lord blandamer assented--"you cannot beat it"--and then went on suggestively: "have you ever tried a sprig of mace with it?" no, mrs janaway had never heard of that; nor, indeed, had lord blandamer either, if the point had been pushed; but she promised to use it the very next time, and hoped that the august visitor would honour them again when it was to be tasted. "'tis only saturday nights that we can get the cushion," she went on; "and it's well it don't come oftener, for we couldn't afford it. no woman ever had a call to have a better husband nor thomas, who spends little enough on hisself. he don't touch nothing but tea, sir, but saturday nights we treat ourselves to a little tripe, which is all the more convenient in that it is very strengthening, and my husband's duties on sunday being that urgent-like. so, if your lordship is fond of tripe, and passing another saturday night, and will do us the honour, you will always find something ready." "thank you very much for your kind invitation," lord blandamer said; "i shall certainly take you at your word, the more so that saturday is the day on which i am oftenest in cullerne, or, i should say, have happened to be lately." "there's poor and poor," said the clerk reflectively; "and _we're_ poor, but we're happy; but there's mr sharnall poor and unhappy. `mr sharnall,' says i to him, `many a time have i heard my father say over a pot of tenpenny, "here's to poverty in a plug-hole, and a man with a wooden leg to trample it down;" but you never puts your poverty in a plug-hole, much less tramples it down. you always has it out and airs it, and makes yourself sad with thinking of it. 'tisn't because you're poor that you're sad; 'tis because you _think_ you're poor, and talk so much about it. you're not so poor as we, only you have so many grievances.'" "ah, you are speaking of the organist?" lord blandamer asked. "i fancy it was he who was talking with you in the minster this afternoon, was it not?" the clerk felt embarrassed once more, for he remembered mr sharnall's violent talk, and how his anathema of all blandamers had rang out in the church. "yes," he said; "poor organist was talking a little wild; he gets took that way sometimes, what with his grievances, and a little drop of the swanky what he takes to drown them. then he talks loud; but i hope your lordship didn't hear all his foolishness." "oh dear no; i was engaged at the time with the architect," lord blandamer said; but his tone made janaway think that mr sharnall's voice had carried further than was convenient. "i did not hear what he said, but he seemed to be much put out. i chatted with him in the church some days ago; he did not know who i was, but i gathered that he bore no very good will to my family." mrs janaway saw it was a moment for prudent words. "don't pay no manner of attention to him, if i may make so bold as to advise your lordship," she said; "he talks against my husband just as well. he is crazy about his organ, and thinks he ought to have a new one, or, at least, a waterworks to blow it, like what they have at carisbury. don't pay no attention to him; no one minds what sharnall says in cullerne." the clerk was astonished at his wife's wisdom, yet apprehensive as to how it might be taken. but lord blandamer bowed his head graciously by way of thanks for sage counsel, and went on: "was there not some queer man at cullerne who thought he was kept out of his rights, and should be in my place--who thought, i mean, he ought to be lord blandamer?" the question was full of indifference, and there was a little smile of pity on his face; but the clerk remembered how mr sharnall had said something about a strutting peacock, and that there were no real blandamers left, and was particularly ill at ease. "oh yes," he answered after a moment's pause, "there was a poor doited body who, saving your presence, had some cranks of that kind; and, more by token, mr sharnall lived in the same house with him, and so i dare say he has got touched with the same craze." lord blandamer took out a cigar instinctively, and then, remembering that there was a lady present, put it back into his case and went on: "oh, he lived in the same house with mr sharnall, did he? i should like to hear more of this story; it naturally interests me. what was his name?" "his name was martin joliffe," said the clerk quickly, being surprised into eagerness by the chance of telling a story; and then the whole tale of martin, and martin's father and mother and daughter, as he had told it to westray, was repeated for lord blandamer. the night was far advanced before the history came to an end, and the local policeman walked several times up and down governour's lane, and made pauses before mr janaway's house, being surprised to see a window lighted so late. lord blandamer must have changed his intention of going by train, for the gates of cullerne station had been locked for hours, and the boiler of the decrepit branch-line engine was cooling in its shed. "it is an interesting tale, and you tell tales well," he said, as he got up and put on his coat. "all good things must have an end, but i hope to see you again ere long." he shook hands with hostess and host, drained the pot of beer that had been fetched from a public-house, with a "here's to poverty in a plug-hole, and a man with a wooden leg to trample it down," and was gone. a minute later the policeman, coming back for yet another inspection of the lighted window, passed a man of middle height, who wore a loose overcoat, with the cape tossed lightly over the left shoulder. the stranger walked briskly, and hummed an air as he went, turning his face up to the stars and the wind-swept sky, as if entirely oblivious of all sublunary things. a midnight stranger in governour's lane was even more surprising than a lighted window, and the policeman had it in his mind to stop him and ask his business. but before he could decide on so vigorous a course of action, the moment was past, and the footsteps were dying away in the distance. the clerk was pleased with himself, and proud of his success as a story-teller. "that's a clever, understanding sort of chap," he said to his wife, as they went to bed; "he knows a good tale when he hears one." "don't you be too proud of yourself, my man," answered she; "there's more in that tale than your telling, i warrant you, for my lord to think about." chapter ten. the extension of the scheme of restoration which lord blandamer's liberality involved, made it necessary that westray should more than once consult sir george farquhar in london. on coming back to cullerne from one of these visits on a saturday night, he found his meal laid in mr sharnall's room. "i thought you would not mind our having supper together," mr sharnall said. "i don't know how it is, i always feel gloomy just when the winter begins, and the dark sets in so soon. it is all right later on; i rather enjoy the long evenings and a good fire, when i can afford a good one, but at first it is a little gloomy. so come and have supper with me. there _is_ a good fire to-night, and a bit of driftwood that i got specially for your benefit." they talked of indifferent subjects during the meal, though once or twice it seemed to westray that the organist gave inconsequential replies, as though he were thinking of something else. this was no doubt the case, for, after they had settled before the fire, and the lambent blue flames of the driftwood had been properly admired, mr sharnall began with a hesitating cough: "a rather curious thing happened this afternoon. when i got back here after evening-service, who should i find waiting in my room but that blandamer fellow. there was no light and no fire, for i had thought if we lit the fire late we could afford a better one. he was sitting at one end of the window-seat, damn him!"--(the expletive was caused by mr sharnall remembering that this was anastasia's favourite seat, and his desire to reprobate the use of it by anyone else)--"but got up, of course, as i came in, and made a vast lot of soft speeches. he must really apologise for such an intrusion. he had come to see mr westray, but found that mr westray had unfortunately been called away. he had taken the liberty of waiting a few minutes in mr sharnall's room. he was anxious to have a few moments' conversation with mr sharnall, and so on, and so on. you know how i hate palaver, and how i disliked--how i dislike" (he corrected himself)--"the man; but he took me at a disadvantage, you see, for here he was actually in my room, and one cannot be so rude in one's own room as one can in other people's. i felt responsible, too, to some extent for his having had to wait without fire or light, though why he shouldn't have lit the gas himself i'm sure i don't know. so i talked more civilly than i meant to, and then, just at the moment that i was hoping to get rid of him, anastasia, who it seems was the only person at home, must needs come in to ask if i was ready for my tea. you may imagine my disgust, but there was nothing for it but to ask him if he would like a cup of tea. i never dreamt of his taking it, but he did; and so, behold! there we were hobnobbing over the tea-table as if we were cronies." westray was astonished. mr sharnall had rebuked him so short a time before for not having repulsed lord blandamer's advances that he could scarcely understand such a serious falling away from all the higher principles of hatred and malice as were implied in this tea-drinking. his experience of life had been as yet too limited to convince him that most enmities and antipathies, being theoretical rather than actual, are apt to become mitigated, or to disappear altogether on personal contact--that it is, in fact, exceedingly hard to keep hatred at concert-pitch, or to be consistently rude to a person face to face who has a pleasant manner and a desire to conciliate. perhaps mr sharnall read westray's surprise in his face, for he went on with a still more apologetic manner: "that is not the worst of it; he has put me in a most awkward position. i must admit that i found his conversation amusing enough. we spoke a good deal of music, and he showed a surprising knowledge of the subject, and a correct taste; i do not know where he has got it from." "i found exactly the same thing with his architecture," westray said. "we started to go round the minster as master and pupil, but before we finished i had an uncomfortable impression that he knew more about it than i did--at least, from the archaeologic point of view." "ah!" said the organist, with that indifference with which a person who wishes to recount his own experiences listens to those of someone else, however thrilling they may be. "well, his taste was singularly refined. he showed a good acquaintance with the contrapuntists of the last century, and knew several of my own works. a very curious thing this. he said he had been in some cathedral--i forget which--heard the service, and been so struck with it that he went afterwards to look it up on the bill, and found it was sharnall in d flat. he hadn't the least idea that it was mine till we began to talk. i haven't had that service by me for years; i wrote it at oxford for the gibbons' prize; it has a fugal movement in the _gloria_, ending with a tonic pedal-point that you would like. i must look it up." "yes, i should like to hear it," westray said, more to fill the interval while the speaker took breath than from any great interest in the matter. "so you shall--so you shall," went on the organist; "you will find the pedal-point adds immensely to the effect. well, by degrees we came to talking of the organ. it so happens that we had spoken of it the very first day i met him in the church, though you know i _never_ talk about my instrument, do i? at that time it didn't strike me that he was so well up in the matter, but now he seemed to know all about it, and so i gave him my ideas as to what ought to be done. then, before i knew where i was, he cut in with, `mr sharnall, what you say interests me immensely; you put things in such a lucid way that even an outsider like myself can understand them. it would be a thousand pities if neglect were permanently to injure this sweet-toned instrument that father smith made so long ago. it is no use restoring the church without the organ, so you must draw up a specification of the repairs and additions required, and understand that anything you suggest shall be done. in the meantime pray order at once the water-engine and new pedal-board of which you speak, and inform me as to the cost.' he took me quite aback, and was gone before i had time to say anything. it puts me in a very equivocal position; i have such an antipathy to the man. i shall refuse his offer point-blank. i will not put myself under any obligation to such a man. you would refuse in my position? you would write a strong letter of refusal at once, would you not?" westray was of a guileless disposition, and apt to assume that people meant what they said. it seemed to him a matter for much regret that mr sharnall's independence, however lofty, should stand in the way of so handsome a benefaction, and he was at pains to elaborate and press home all the arguments that he could muster to shake the organist's resolve. the offer was kindly-meant; he was sure that mr sharnall took a wrong view of lord blandamer's character--that mr sharnall was wrong in imputing motives to lord blandamer. what motives could he have except the best? and however much mr sharnall might personally refuse, how was a man to be stopped eventually from repairing an organ which stood so manifestly in need of repair? westray spoke earnestly, and was gratified to see the effect which his eloquence produced on mr sharnall. it is so rarely that argument prevails to change opinion that the young man was flattered to see that the considerations which he was able to marshal were strong enough, at any rate, to influence mr sharnall's determination. well, perhaps there was something in what mr westray said. mr sharnall would think it over. he would not write the letter of refusal that night; he could write to refuse the next day quite as well. in the meantime he _would_ see to the new pedal-board, and order the water-engine. ever since he had seen the water-engine at carisbury, he had been convinced that sooner or later they must have one at cullerne. it _must_ be ordered; they could decide later on whether it should be paid for by lord blandamer, or should be charged to the general restoration fund. this conclusion, however inconclusive, was certainly a triumph for westray's persuasive oratory, but his satisfaction was chastened by some doubts as to how far he was justified in assailing the scrupulous independence which had originally prompted mr sharnall to refuse to have anything to do with lord blandamer's offer. if mr sharnall had scruples in the matter, ought not he, westray, to have respected those scruples? was it not tampering with rectitude to have overcome them by a too persuasive rhetoric? his doubts were not allayed by the observation that mr sharnall himself had severely felt the strain of this mental quandary, for the organist said that he was upset by so difficult a question, and filled himself a bumper of whisky to steady his nerves. at the same time he took down from a shelf two or three notebooks and a mass of loose papers, which he spread open upon the table before him. westray looked at them with a glance of unconscious inquiry. "i must really get to work at these things again," said the organist; "i have been dreadfully negligent of late. they are a lot of papers and notes that martin joliffe left behind him. poor miss euphemia never had the heart to go through them. she was going to burn them just as they were, but i said, `oh, you mustn't do that; turn them over to me. i will look into them, and see whether there is anything worth keeping.' so i took them, but haven't done nearly as much as i ought, what with one interruption and another. it's always sad going through a dead man's papers, but sadder when they're all that's left of a life's labour--lost labour, so far as martin was concerned, for he was taken away just when he began to see daylight. `we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain that we shall carry nothing out.' when that comes into my mind, i think rather of the _little_ things than of gold or lands. intimate letters that a man treasured more than money; little tokens of which the clue has died with him; the unfinished work to which he was coming back, and never came; even the unpaid bills that worried him; for death transfigures all, and makes the commonplace pathetic." he stopped for a moment. westray said nothing, being surprised at this momentary softening of the other's mood. "yes, it's sad enough," the organist resumed; "all these papers are nebuly coat--the sea-green and silver." "he was quite mad, i suppose?" westray said. "everyone except me will tell you so," replied the organist; "but i'm not so very sure after all that there wasn't a good deal more in it than madness. that's all that i can say just now, but those of us who live will see. there is a queer tradition hereabout. i don't know how long ago it started, but people say that there _is_ some mystery about the blandamer descent, and that those in possession have no right to what they hold. but there is something else. many have tried to solve the riddle, and some, you may depend, have been very hot on the track. but just as they come to the touch, something takes them off; that's what happened to martin. i saw him the very day he died. `sharnall,' he said to me, `if i can last out forty-eight hours more, you may take off your hat to me, and say "my lord."' "but the nebuly coat was too much for him; he had to die. so don't you be surprised if i pop off the hooks some of these fine days; if i don't, i'm going to get to the bottom, and you will see some changes here before so very long." he sat down at the table, and made a show for a minute of looking at the papers. "poor martin!" he said, and got up again, opened the cupboard, and took out the bottle. "you'll have a drop," he asked westray, "won't you?" "no, thanks, not i," westray said, with something as near contempt as his thin voice was capable of expressing. "just a drop--do! i must have just a drop myself; i find it a great strain working at these papers; there may be more at stake in the reading than i care to think of." he poured out half a tumbler of spirit. westray hesitated for a moment, and then his conscience and an early puritan training forced him to speak. "sharnall," he said, "put it away. that bottle is your evil angel. play the man, and put it away. you force me to speak. i cannot sit by with hands folded and see you going down the hill." the organist gave him a quick glance; then he filled up the tumbler to the brim with neat spirit. "look you," he said: "i was going to drink half a glass; now i'm going to drink a whole one. that much for your advice! going down the hill indeed! go to the devil with your impertinence! if you can't keep a civil tongue in your head, you had better get your supper in someone else's room." a momentary irritation dragged westray down from the high podium of judicial reproof into the arena of retort. "don't worry yourself," he said sharply; "you may rely on my not troubling you with my company again." and he got up and opened the door. as he turned to go out, anastasia joliffe passed through the passage on her way to bed. the glimpse of her as she went by seemed still further to aggravate mr sharnall. he signed to westray to stay where he was, and to shut the door again. "damn you!" he said; "that's what i called you back to say. damn you! damn blandamer! damn everybody! damn poverty! damn wealth! i will not touch a farthing of his money for the organ. now you can go." westray had been cleanly bred. he had been used neither to the vulgarity of ill-temper nor to the coarser insolence of personal abuse. he shrank by natural habit even from gross adjectives, from the "beastly" and the "filthy" which modern manners too often condone, and still more from the abomination of swearing. so mr sharnall's obloquy wounded him to the quick. he went to bed in a flutter of agitation, and lay awake half the night mourning over a friendship so irreparably broken, bitter with the resentment of an unjustified attack, yet reproaching himself lest through his unwittingness he might have brought it all upon himself. the morning found him unrefreshed and dejected, but, whilst he sat at breakfast, the sun came out brightly, and he began to take a less despondent view of the situation. it was possible that mr sharnall's friendship might not after all be lost beyond repair; he would be sorry if it were, for he had grown fond of the old man, in spite of all his faults of life and manner. it was he, westray, who had been entirely to blame. in another man's room he had lectured the other man. he, a young man, had lectured the other, who was an old man. it was true that he had done so with the best motives; he had only spoken from a painful sense of duty. but he had shown no tact, he had spoken much too strongly; he had imperilled his own good cause by the injudicious manner in which he had put it forward. at the risk of all rebuffs, he would express his regret; he would go down and apologise to mr sharnall, and offer, if need be, the other cheek to the smiter. good resolves, if formed with the earnest intention of carrying them into effect, seldom fail to restore a measure of peace to the troubled mind. it is only when a regular and ghastly see-saw of wrong-doing and repentance has been established, and when the mind can no longer deceive even itself as to the possibility of permanent uprightness of life, that good resolves cease to tranquillise. such a see-saw must gradually lose its regularity; the set towards evil grows more and more preponderant; the return to virtue rarer and more brief. despair of any continuity of godliness follows, and then it is that good resolves, becoming a mere reflex action of the mind, fail in their gracious influence, and cease to bring quiet. these conditions can scarcely occur before middle age, and westray, being young and eminently conscientious, was feeling the full peacefulness of his high-minded intention steal over him, when the door opened, and the organist entered. an outbreak of temper and a night of hard drinking had left their tokens on mr sharnall's face. he looked haggard, and the rings that a weak heart had drawn under his eyes were darker and more puffed. he came in awkwardly, and walked quickly to the architect, holding out his hand. "forgive me, westray," he said; "i behaved last night like a fool and a cad. you were quite right to speak to me as you did; i honour you for it. i wish to god there had been someone to speak to me like that years ago." his outstretched hand was not so white as it should have been, the nails were not so well trimmed as a more fastidious mood might have demanded; but westray did not notice these things. he took the shaky old hand, and gripped it warmly, not saying anything, because he could not speak. "we _must_ be friends," the organist went on, after a moment's pause; "we must be friends, because i can't afford to lose you. i haven't known you long, but you are the only friend i have in the world. is it not an awful thing to confess?" he said, with a tremulous little laugh. "i have no other friend in the world. say those things you said last night whenever you like; the oftener you say them the better." he sat down, and, the situation being too strained to remain longer at so high a pitch, the conversation drifted, however awkwardly, to less personal topics. "there is a thing i wanted to speak about last night," the organist said. "poor old miss joliffe is very hard up. she hasn't said a word to me about it--she never would to anyone--but i happen to know it for a fact: she _is_ hard up. she is in a chronic state of hard-up-ishness always, and that we all are; but this is an acute attack--she has her back against the wall. it is the fag-end of martin's debts that bother her; these blood-sucking tradesmen are dunning her, and she hasn't the pluck to tell them go hang, though they know well enough she isn't responsible for a farthing. she has got it into her head that she hasn't a right to keep that flower-and-caterpillar picture so long as martin's debts are unpaid, because she could raise money on it. you remember those people, baunton and lutterworth, offered her fifty pounds for it." "yes, i remember," westray said; "more fools they." "more fools, by all means," rejoined the organist; "but still they offer it, and i believe our poor old landlady will come to selling it. `all the better for her,' you will say, and anyone with an ounce of common-sense would have sold it long ago for fifty pounds or fifty pence. but, then, she has no common-sense, and i do believe it would break her pride and worry her into a fever to part with it. well, i have been at the pains to find out what sum of money would pull her through, and i fancy something like twenty pounds would tide over the crisis." he paused a moment, as if he half expected westray to speak; but the architect making no suggestion, he went on. "i didn't know," he said timidly; "i wasn't quite sure whether you had been here long enough to take much interest in the matter. i had an idea of buying the picture myself, so that we could still keep it here. it would be no good offering miss euphemia money as a _gift_; she wouldn't accept it on any condition. i know her quite well enough to be sure of that. but if i was to offer her twenty pounds for it, and tell her it must always stop here, and that she could buy it back from me when she was able, i think she would feel such an offer to be a godsend, and accept it readily." "yes," westray said dubitatively; "i suppose it couldn't be construed into attempting to outwit her, could it? it seems rather funny at first sight to get her to sell a picture for twenty pounds for which others have offered fifty pounds." "no, i don't think so," replied the organist. "it wouldn't be a real sale at all, you know, but only just a colour for helping her." "well, as you have been kind enough to ask my advice, i see no further objection, and think it very good of you to show such thoughtfulness for poor miss joliffe." "thank you," said the organist hesitatingly--"thank you; i had hoped you would take that view of the matter. there is a further little difficulty: i am as poor as a church mouse. i live like an old screw, and never spend a penny, but, then, i haven't got a penny to spend, and so can't save." westray had already wondered how mr sharnall could command so large a sum as twenty pounds, but thought it more prudent to make no comments. then the organist took the bull by the horns. "i didn't know," he said, "whether you would feel inclined to join me in the purchase. i have got ten pounds in the savings' bank; if you could find the other ten pounds, we could go shares in the picture; and, after all, that wouldn't much matter, for miss euphemia is quite sure to buy it back from us before very long." he stopped and looked at westray. the architect was taken aback. he was of a cautious and calculating disposition, and a natural inclination to save had been reinforced by the conviction that any unnecessary expenditure was in itself to be severely reprobated. as the bible was to him the foundation of the world to come, so the keeping of meticulous accounts and the putting by of however trifling sums, were the foundation of the world that is. he had so carefully governed his life as to have been already able, out of a scanty salary, to invest more than a hundred pounds in railway debentures. he set much store by the half-yearly receipt of an exiguous interest cheque, and derived a certain dignity and feeling of commercial stability from envelopes headed the "great southern railway," which brought him from time to time a proxy form or a notice of shareholders' meetings. a recent examination of his bankbook had filled him with the hope of being able ere long to invest a second hundred pounds, and he had been turning over in his mind for some days the question of the stocks to be selected; it seemed financially unsound to put so large a sum in any single security. this suddenly presented proposal that he should make a serious inroad on his capital filled him with dismay; it was equivalent to granting a loan of ten pounds without any tangible security. no one in their senses could regard this miserable picture as a security; and the bulbous green caterpillar seemed to give a wriggle of derision as he looked at it across the breakfast-table. he had it on his tongue to refuse mr sharnall's request, with the sympathetic but judicial firmness with which all high-minded persons refuse to lend. there is a tone of sad resolution particularly applicable to such occasions, which should convey to the borrower that only motives of great moral altitude constrain us for the moment to override an earnest desire to part with our money. if it had not been for considerations of the public weal, we would most readily have given him ten times as much as was asked. westray was about to express sentiments of this nature when he glanced at the organist's face, and saw written in its folds and wrinkles so paramount and pathetic an anxiety that his resolution was shaken. he remembered the quarrel of the night before, and how mr sharnall, in coming to beg his pardon that morning, had humbled himself before a younger man. he remembered how they had made up their differences; surely an hour ago he would willingly have paid ten pounds to know that their differences could be made up. perhaps, after all, he might agree to make this loan as a thank-offering for friendship restored. perhaps, after all, the picture _was_ a security: someone _had_ offered fifty pounds for it. the organist had not followed the change of westray's mind; he retained only the first impression of reluctance, and was very anxious--curiously anxious, it might have seemed, if his only motive in the acquiring of the picture was to do a kindness to miss euphemia. "it _is_ a large sum, i know," he said in a low voice. "i am very sorry to ask you to do this. it is not for myself; i never asked a penny for myself in my life, and never will, till i go to the workhouse. don't answer at once, if you don't see your way. think it over. take time to think it over; but do try, westray, to help in the matter, if you can. it would be a sad pity to let the picture go out of the house just now." the eagerness with which he spoke surprised westray. could it be that mr sharnall had motives other than mere kindness? could it be that the picture _was_ valuable after all? he walked across the room to look closer at the tawdry flowers and the caterpillar. no, it could not be that; the painting was absolutely worthless. mr sharnall had followed him, and they stood side by side looking out of the window. westray was passing through a very brief interval of indecision. his emotional and perhaps better feelings told him that he ought to accede to mr sharnall's request; caution and the hoarding instinct reminded him that ten pounds was a large proportion of his whole available capital. bright sunshine had succeeded the rain. the puddles flashed on the pavements; the long rows of raindrops glistened on the ledges which overhung the shop-windows, and a warm steam rose from the sandy roadway as it dried in the sun. the front-door of bellevue lodge closed below them, and anastasia, in a broad straw hat and a pink print dress, went lightly down the steps. on that bright morning she looked the brightest thing of all, as she walked briskly to the market with a basket on her arm, unconscious that two men were watching her from an upper window. it was at that minute that thrift was finally elbowed by sentiment out of westray's mind. "yes," he said, "by all means let us buy the picture. you negotiate the matter with miss joliffe, and i will give you two five-pound notes this evening." "thank you--thank you," said the organist, with much relief. "i will tell miss euphemia that she can buy it back from us whenever it suits her to do so; and if she should not buy it back before one of us dies, then it shall remain the sole property of the survivor." so that very day the purchase of a rare work of art was concluded by private treaty between miss euphemia joliffe of the one part, and messrs. nicholas sharnall and edward westray of the other. the hammer never fell upon the showy flowers with the green caterpillar wriggling in the corner; and messrs. baunton and lutterworth received a polite note from miss joliffe to say that the painting late in the possession of martin joliffe, esquire, deceased, was not for sale. chapter eleven. the old bishop of carisbury was dead, and a new bishop of carisbury reigned in his stead. the appointment had caused some chagrin in low-church circles, for dr willis, the new bishop, was a high churchman of pronounced views. but he had a reputation for deep personal piety, and a very short experience sufficed to show that he was full of christian tolerance and tactful loving-kindness. one day, as mr sharnall was playing a voluntary after the sunday morning-service, a chorister stole up the little winding steps, and appeared in the organ-loft just as his master had pulled out a handful of stops and dashed into the _stretto_. the organist had not heard the boy on the stairs, and gave a violent start as he suddenly caught sight of the white surplice. hands and feet for an instant lost their place, and the music came perilously near breaking down. it was only for an instant; he pulled himself together, and played the fugue to its logical conclusion. then the boy began, "canon parkyn's compliments," but broke off; for the organist greeted him with a sound cuff and a "how many times have i told you, sir, not to come creeping up those stairs when i am in the middle of a voluntary? you startle me out of my senses, coming round the corner like a ghost." "i'm very sorry, sir," the boy said, whimpering. "i'm sure i never meant--i never thought--" "you never _do_ think," mr sharnall said. "well, well, don't go on whining. old heads don't grow on young shoulders; don't do it again, and there's a sixpence for you. and now let's hear what you have to say." sixpences were rare things among cullerne boys, and the gift consoled more speedily than any balm in gilead. "canon parkyn's compliments to you, sir, and he would be glad to have a word with you in the clergy-vestry." "all in good time. tell him i'll be down as soon as i've put my books away." mr sharnall did not hurry. there were the psalter and the chant-book to be put open on the desk for the afternoon; there were the morning-service and anthem-book to be put away, and the evening-service and anthem-book to be got out. the establishment had once been able to afford good music-books, and in the attenuated list of subscribers to the first-edition boyce you may see to this day, "the rector and foundation of cullerne minster (6 copies)." mr sharnall loved the great boyce, with its parchment paper and largest of large margins. he loved the crisp sound of the leaves as he turned them, and he loved the old-world clefs that he could read nine staves at a time as easily as a short score. he looked at the weekly list to check his memory--"awake up my glory" (_wise_). no, it was in volume three instead of two; he had taken down the wrong volume--a stupid mistake for one who knew the copy so well. how the rough calf backs were crumbling away! the rusty red-leather dust had come off on his coat-sleeves; he really was not fit to be seen, and he took some minutes more to brush it all off. so it was that canon parkyn chafed at being kept waiting in the clergy-vestry, and greeted mr sharnall on his appearance with a certain tartness: "i wish you could be a little quicker when you are sent for. i am particularly busy just now, and you have kept me waiting a quarter of an hour at least." as this was precisely what mr sharnall had intended to do, he took no umbrage at the rector's remarks, but merely said: "pardon me; scarcely so long as a quarter of an hour, i think." "well, do not let us waste words. what i wanted to tell you was that it has been arranged for the lord bishop of carisbury to hold a confirmation in the minster on the eighteenth of next month, at three o'clock in the afternoon. we must have a full musical service, and i shall be glad if you will submit a sketch of what you propose for my approval. there is one point to which i must call your attention particularly. as his lordship walks up the nave, we must have a becoming march on the organ--not any of this old-fashioned stuff of which i have had so often to complain, but something really dignified and with tune in it." "oh yes, we can easily arrange that," mr sharnall said obsequiously--"`see the conquering hero comes,' by handel, would be very appropriate; or there is an air out of one of offenbach's operas that i think i could adapt to the purpose. it is a very sweet thing if rendered with proper feeling; or i could play a `danse maccabre' slowly on the full organ." "ah, that is from the `judas maccabaeus,' i conclude," said the rector, a little mollified at this unexpected acquiescence in his views. "well, i see that you understand my wishes, so i hope i may leave that matter in your hands. by the way," he said, turning back as he left the vestry, "what _was_ the piece which you played after the service just now?" "oh, only a fugal movement--just a fugue of kirnberger's." "i _wish_ you would not give us so much of this fugal style. no doubt it is all very fine from a scholastic point of view, but to most it seems merely confused. so far from assisting me and the choir to go out with dignity, it really fetters our movements. we want something with pathos and dignity, such as befits the end of a solemn service, yet with a marked rhythm, so that it may time our footsteps as we leave the choir. forgive these suggestions; the _practical_ utility of the organ is so much overlooked in these days. when mr noot is taking the service it does not so much matter, but when i am here myself i beg that there may be no more fugue." the visit of the bishop of carisbury to cullerne was an important matter, and necessitated some forethought and arrangement. "the bishop must, of course, lunch with us," mrs parkyn said to her husband; "you will ask him, of course, to lunch, my dear." "oh yes, certainly," replied the canon; "i wrote yesterday to ask him to lunch." he assumed an unconcerned air, but with only indifferent success, for his heart misgave him that he had been guilty of an unpardonable breach of etiquette in writing on so important a subject without reference to his wife. "really, my dear!" she rejoined--"really! i hope at least that your note was couched in proper terms." "psha!" he said, a little nettled in his turn, "do you suppose i have never written to a bishop before?" "that is not the point; _any_ invitation of this kind should always be given by me. the bishop, if he has any _breeding_, will be very much astonished to receive an invitation to lunch that is not given by the lady of the house. this, at least, is the usage that prevails among persons of _breeding_." there was just enough emphasis in the repetition of the last formidable word to have afforded a _casus belli_, if the rector had been minded for the fray; but he was a man of peace. "you are quite right, my dear," was the soft answer; "it was a slip of mine, which we must hope the bishop will overlook. i wrote in a hurry yesterday afternoon, as soon as i received the official information of his coming. you were out calling, if you recollect, and i had to catch the post. one never knows what tuft-hunting may not lead people to do; and if i had not caught the post, some pushing person or other might quite possibly have asked him sooner. i meant, of course, to have reported the matter to you, but it slipped my memory." "really," she said, with fine deprecation, being only half pacified, "i do not see who there _could_ be to ask the bishop except ourselves. where should the bishop of carisbury lunch in cullerne except at the rectory?" in this unanswerable conundrum she quenched the smouldering embers of her wrath. "i have no doubt, dear, that you did it all for the best, and i hate these vulgar pushing nobodies, who try to get hold of everyone of the least position quite as much as you do. so let us consider whom we _ought_ to ask to meet him. a small party, i think it should be; he would take it as a greater compliment if the party were small." she had that shallow and ungenerous mind which shrinks instinctively from admitting any beauty or intellect in others, and which grudges any participation in benefits, however amply sufficient they may be for all. thus, few must be asked to meet the bishop, that it might the better appear that few indeed, beside the rector and mrs parkyn, were fit to associate with so distinguished a man. "i quite agree with you," said the rector, considerably relieved to find that his own temerity in asking the bishop might now be considered as condoned. "our party must above all things be select; indeed, i do not know how we could make it anything but very small; there are so few people whom we _could_ ask to meet the bishop." "let me see," his wife said, making a show of reckoning cullerne respectability with the fingers of one hand on the fingers of the other. "there is--" she broke off as a sudden idea seized her. "why, of course, we must ask lord blandamer. he has shown such marked interest in ecclesiastical matters that he is sure to wish to meet the bishop." "a most fortunate suggestion--admirable in every way. it may strengthen his interest in the church; and it must certainly be beneficial to him to associate with correct society after his wandering and bohemian life. i hear all kinds of strange tales of his hobnobbing with this mr westray, the clerk of the works, and with other persons entirely out of his own rank. mrs flint, who happened to be visiting a poor woman in a back lane, assures me that she has every reason to believe that he spent an hour or more in the clerk's house, and even ate there. they say he positively ate tripe." "well, it will certainly do him good to meet the bishop," the lady said. "that would make four with ourselves; and we can ask mrs bulteel. we need not ask her husband; he is painfully rough, and the bishop might not like to meet a brewer. it will not be at all strange to ask her alone; there is always the excuse of not liking to take a businessman away from his work in the middle of the day." "that would be five; we ought to make it up to six. i suppose it would not do to ask this architect-fellow or mr sharnall." "my dear! what can you be thinking of? on no account whatever. such guests would be _most_ inappropriate." the rector looked so properly humble and cast down at this reproof that his wife relented a little. "not that there is any _harm_ in asking them, but they would be so very ill at ease themselves, i fear, in such surroundings. if you think the number should be even, we might perhaps ask old noot. he _is_ a gentleman, and would pass as your chaplain, and say grace." thus the party was made up, and lord blandamer accepted, and mrs bulteel accepted; and there was no need to trouble about the curate's acceptance--he was merely ordered to come to lunch. but, after all had gone so well up to this point, the unexpected happened--the bishop could not come. he regretted that he could not accept the hospitality so kindly offered him by canon parkyn; he had an engagement which would occupy him for any spare time that he would have in cullerne; he had made other arrangements for lunch; he would call at the rectory half an hour before the service. the rector and his wife sat in the "study," a dark room on the north side of the rectory-house, made sinister from without by dank laurestinus, and from within by glass cases of badly-stuffed birds. a bradshaw lay on the table before them. "he cannot be _driving_ from carisbury," mrs parkyn said. "dr willis does not keep at all the same sort of stables that his predecessor kept. mrs flint, when she was attending the annual christian endeavour meeting at carisbury, was told that dr willis thinks it wrong that a bishop should do more in the way of keeping carriages than is absolutely necessary for church purposes. she said she had passed the bishop's carriage herself, and that the coachman was a most unkempt creature, and the horses two wretched screws." "i heard much the same thing," assented the rector. "they say he would not have his own coat of arms painted on the carriage, for what was there already was quite good enough for him. he cannot possibly be driving here from carisbury; it is a good twenty miles." "well, if he does not drive, he must come by the 12:15 train; that would give him two hours and a quarter before the service. what business can he have in cullerne? where can he be lunching? what can he be doing with himself for two mortal hours and a quarter?" here was another conundrum to which probably only one person in cullerne town could have supplied an answer, and that was mr sharnall. a letter had come for the organist that very day: "the palace, "carisbury. "my dear sharnall, "(i had almost written `my dear nick'; forty years have made my pen a little stiff, but you must give me your official permission to write `my dear nick' the very next time.) you may have forgotten my hand, but you will not have forgotten me. do you know, it is i, willis, who am your new bishop? it is only a fortnight since i learnt that you were so near me- "`quam dulce amicitias, redintegrare nitidas' "and the very first point of it is that i am going to sponge on you, and ask myself to lunch. i am coming to cullerne at 12:45 to-day fortnight for the confirmation, and have to be at the rectory at 2:30, but till then an old friend, nicholas sharnall, will give me food and shelter, will he not? make no excuses, for i shall not accept them; but send me word to say that in this you will not fail of your duty, and believe me always to be "yours, "john carum." there was something that moved strangely inside mr sharnall's battered body as he read the letter--an upheaval of emotion; the child's heart within the man's; his young hopeful self calling to his old hopeless self. he sat back in his armchair, and shut his eyes, and the organ-loft in a little college chapel came back to him, and long, long practisings, and willis content to stand by and listen as long as he should play. how it pleased willis to stand by, and pull the stops, and fancy he knew something of music! no, willis never knew any music, and yet he had a good taste, and loved a fugue. there came to him country rambles and country churches and willis with an "a.b.c. of gothic architecture," trying to tell an early english from a decorated moulding. there came to him inimitably long summer evenings, with the sky clearest yellow in the north, hours after sunset; dusty white roads, with broad galloping-paths at the side, drenched with heavy dew; the dark, mysterious boskage of stow wood; the scent of the syringa in the lane at beckley; the white mist sheeting the cherwell vale. and supper when they got home--for memory is so powerful an alchemist as to transmute suppers as well as sunsets. what suppers! cider-cup with borage floating in it, cold lamb and mint sauce, watercress, and a triangular commons of stilton. why, he had not tasted stilton for forty years! no, willis never knew any music, but he loved a fugue. ah, the fugues they had! and then a voice crossed mr sharnall's memory, saying, "when i am here myself, i beg that there may be no more fugue." "no more fugue"--there was a finality in the phrase uncompromising as the "no more sea" of the apocalyptic vision. it made mr sharnall smile bitterly; he woke from his daydream, and was back in the present. oh yes, he knew very well that it was his old friend when he first saw on whom the choice had fallen for the bishopric. he was glad willis was coming to see him. willis knew all about the row, and how it was that sharnall had to leave oxford. ay, but the bishop was too generous and broad-minded to remember that now. willis must know very well that he was only a poor, out-at-elbows old fellow, and yet he was coming to lunch with him; but did willis know that he still--he did not follow the thought further, but glanced in a mirror, adjusted his tie, fastened the top button of his coat, and with his uncertain hands brushed the hair back on either side of his head. no, willis did not know that; he never should know; it was _never_ too late to mend. he went to the cupboard, and took out a bottle and a tumbler. only very little spirit was left, and he poured it all into the glass. there was a moment's hesitation, a moment while enfeebled will-power was nerving itself for the effort. he was apparently engaged in making sure that not one minim of this most costly liquor was wasted. he held the bottle carefully inverted, and watched the very last and smallest drop detach itself and fall into the glass. no, his will-power was not yet altogether paralysed--not yet; and he dashed the contents of the glass into the fire. there was a great blaze of light-blue flame, and a puff in the air that made the window-panes rattle; but the heroic deed was done, and he heard a mental blast of trumpets, and the acclaiming voice of the _victor sui_. willis should never know that he still--because he never would again. he rang the bell, and when miss euphemia answered it she found him walking briskly, almost tripping, to and fro in the room. he stopped as she entered, drew his heels together, and made her a profound bow. "hail, most fair chastelaine! bid the varlets lower the draw-bridge and raise the portcullis. order pasties and souse-fish and a butt of malmsey; see the great hall is properly decored for my lord bishop of carisbury, who will take his _ambigue_ and bait his steeds at this castle." miss joliffe stared; she saw a bottle and an empty tumbler on the table, and smelt a strong smell of whisky; and the mirth faded from mr sharnall's face as he read her thoughts. "no, wrong," he said--"wrong this once; i am as sober as a judge, but excited. a bishop is coming to lunch with me. _you_ are excited when lord blandamer takes tea with you--a mere trashy temporal peer; am i not to be excited when a real spiritual lord pays me a visit? hear, o woman! the bishop of carisbury has written to ask, not me to lunch with him, but him to lunch with me. you will have a bishop lunching at bellevue lodge." "oh, mr sharnall! pray, sir, speak plainly. i am so old and stupid, i can never tell whether you are joking or in earnest." so he put off his exaltation, and told her the actual facts. "i am sure i don't know, sir, what you will give him for lunch," miss joliffe said. she was always careful to put in a proper number of "sirs," for, though she was proud of her descent, and considered that so far as birth went she need not fear comparison with other cullerne dames, she thought it a christian duty to accept fully the position of landlady to which circumstances had led her. "i am sure i don't know what you will give him for lunch; it is always so difficult to arrange meals for the clergy. if one provides _too_ much of the good things of this world, it seems as if one was not considering sufficiently their sacred calling; it seems like martha, too cumbered with much serving, too careful and troubled, to gain all the spiritual advantage that must come from clergymen's society. but, of course, even the most spiritually-minded must nourish their _bodies_, or they would not be able to do so much good. but when less provision has been made, i have sometimes seen clergymen eat it all up, and become quite wearied, poor things! for want of food. it was so, i remember, when mrs sharp invited the parishioners to meet the deputation after the church missionary meeting. all the patties were eaten before the deputation came, and he was so tired, poor man! with his long speech that when he found there was nothing to eat he got quite annoyed. it was only for a moment, of course, but i heard him say to someone, whose name i forget, that he had much better have trusted to a ham-sandwich in the station refreshment-room. "and if it is difficult with the food, it is worse still with what they are to drink. some clergymen do so dislike wine, and others feel they need it before the exertion of speaking. only last year, when mrs bulteel gave a drawing-room meeting, and champagne with biscuits was served before it, dr stimey said quite openly that though he did not consider all who drank to be _reprobate_, yet he must regard alcohol as the mark of the beast, and that people did not come to drawing-room meetings to drink themselves sleepy before the speaking. with bishops it must be much worse; so i don't know what we shall give him." "don't distress yourself too much," the organist said, having at last spied a gap in the serried ranks of words; "i have found out what bishops eat; it is all in a little book. we must give him cold lamb-cold ribs of lamb--and mint sauce, boiled potatoes, and after that stilton cheese." "stilton?" miss joliffe asked with some trepidation. "i am afraid it will be very expensive." as a drowning man in one moment passes in review the events of a lifetime, so her mind took an instantaneous conspectus of all cheeses that had ever stood in the cheese-cradle in the palmy days of wydcombe, when hams and plum-puddings hung in bags from the rafters, when there was cream in the dairy and beer in the cellar. blue vinny, little gloucesters, double besants, even sometimes a cream-cheese with rushes on the bottom, but stilton never! "i am afraid it is a _very_ expensive cheese; i do not think anyone in cullerne keeps it." "it is a pity," mr sharnall said; "but we cannot help ourselves, for bishops _must_ have stilton for lunch; the book says so. you must ask mr custance to get you a piece, and i will tell you later how it is to be cut, for there are rules about that too." he laughed to himself with a queer little chuckle. cold lamb and mint sauce, with a piece of stilton afterwards--they would have an oxford lunch; they would be young again, and undefiled. the stimulus that the bishop's letter had brought mr sharnall soon wore off. he was a man of moods, and in his nervous temperament depression walked close at the heels of exaltation. westray felt sure in those days that followed that his friend was drinking to excess, and feared something more serious than a mere nervous breakdown, from the agitation and strangeness that he could not fail to observe in the organist's manner. the door of the architect's room opened one night, as he sat late over his work, and mr sharnall entered. his face was pale, and there was a startled, wide-open look in his eyes that westray did not like. "i wish you would come down to my room for a minute," the organist said; "i want to change the place of my piano, and can't move it by myself." "isn't it rather late to-night?" westray said, pulling at his watch, while the deep and slow melodious chimes of saint sepulchre told the dreaming town and the silent sea-marshes that it lacked but a quarter of an hour to midnight. "wouldn't it be better to do it to-morrow morning?" "couldn't you come down to-night?" the organist asked; "it wouldn't take you a minute." westray caught the disappointment in the tone. "very well," he said, putting his drawing-board aside. "i've worked at this quite long enough; let us shift your piano." they went down to the ground-floor. "i want to turn the piano right-about-face," the organist said, "with its back to the room and the keyboard to the wall--the keyboard quite close to the wall, with just room for me to sit." "it seems a curious arrangement," westray criticised; "is it better acoustically?" "oh, i don't know; but, if i want to rest a bit, i can put my back against the wall, you see." the change was soon accomplished, and they sat down for a moment before the fire. "you keep a good fire," westray said, "considering it is bed-time." and, indeed, the coals were piled high, and burning fiercely. the organist gave them a poke, and looked round as if to make sure that they were alone. "you'll think me a fool," he said; "and i am. you'll think i've been drinking, and i have. you'll think i'm drunk, but i'm not. listen to me: i'm not drunk; i'm only a coward. do you remember the very first night you and i walked home to this house together? do you remember the darkness and the driving rain, and how scared i was when we passed the old bonding-house? well, it was beginning then, but it's much worse now. i had a horrible idea even then that there was something always following me--following me close. i didn't know what it was--i only knew there was _something_ close behind me." his manner and appearance alarmed westray. the organist's face was very pale, and a curious raising of the eyelids, which showed the whites of the eyes above the pupils, gave him the staring appearance of one confronted suddenly with some ghastly spectacle. westray remembered that the hallucination of pursuant enemies is one of the most common symptoms of incipient madness, and put his hand gently on the organist's arm. "don't excite yourself," he said; "this is all nonsense. don't get excited so late at night." mr sharnall brushed the hand aside. "i only used to have that feeling when i was out of doors, but now i have it often indoors--even in this very room. before i never knew what it was following me--i only knew it was something. but now i know what it is: it is a man--a man with a hammer. don't laugh. you don't _want_ to laugh; you only laugh because you think it will quiet me, but it won't. i think it is a man with a hammer. i have never seen his face yet, but i shall some day. only i know it is an evil face--not hideous, like pictures of devils or anything of that kind, but worse--a dreadful, disguised face, looking all right, but wearing a mask. he walks constantly behind me, and i feel every moment that the hammer may brain me." "come, come!" westray said in what is commonly supposed to be a soothing tone, "let us change this subject, or go to bed. i wonder how you will find the new position of your piano answer." the organist smiled. "do you know why i really put it like that?" he said. "it is because i am such a coward. i like to have my back against the wall, and then i know there can be no one behind me. there are many nights, when it gets late, that it is only with a great effort i can sit here. i grow so nervous that i should go to bed at once, only i say to myself, `nick'-that's what they used to call me at home, you know, when i was a boy--`nick, you're not going to be beat; you're not going to be scared out of your own room by ghosts, surely.' and then i sit tight, and play on, but very often don't think much of what i'm playing. it is a sad state for a man to get into, is it not?" and westray could not traverse the statement. "even in the church," mr sharnall went on, "i don't care to practise much in the evening by myself. it used to be all right when cutlow was there to blow for me. he is a daft fellow, but still was some sort of company; but now the water-engine is put in, i feel lonely there, and don't care to go as often as i used. something made me tell lord blandamer how his water-engine contrived to make me frightened, and he said he should have to come up to the loft himself sometimes to keep me company." "well, let me know the first evening you want to practise," westray said, "and i will come, too, and sit in the loft. take care of yourself, and you will soon grow out of all these fancies, and laugh at them as much as i do." and he feigned a smile. but it was late at night; he was high-strung and nervous himself, and the fact that mr sharnall should have been brought to such a pitiable state of mental instability depressed him. the report that the bishop was going to lunch with mr sharnall on the day of the confirmation soon spread in cullerne. miss joliffe had told mr joliffe the pork-butcher, as her cousin, and mr joliffe, as churchwarden, had told canon parkyn. it was the second time within a few weeks that a piece of important news had reached the rector at second-hand. but on this occasion he experienced little of the chagrin that had possessed him when lord blandamer made the great offer to the restoration fund through westray. he did not feel resentment against mr sharnall; the affair was of too solemn an importance for any such personal and petty sentiments to find a place. any act of any bishop was vicariously an act of god, and to chafe at this dispensation would have been as out of place as to be incensed at a shipwreck or an earthquake. the fact of being selected as the entertainer of the bishop of carisbury invested mr sharnall in the rector's eyes with a distinction which could not have been possibly attained by mere intellect or technical skill or devoted drudgery. the organist became _ipso facto_ a person to be taken into account. the rectory had divined and discussed, and discussed and divined, how it was, could, would, should, have been that the bishop could be lunching with mr sharnall. could it be that the bishop had thought that mr sharnall kept an eating-house, or that the bishop took some special diet which only mr sharnall knew how to prepare? could it be that the bishop had some idea of making mr sharnall organist in his private chapel, for there was no vacancy in the cathedral? conjecture charged the blank wall of mystery full tilt, and retired broken from the assault. after talking of nothing else for many hours, mrs parkyn declared that the matter had no interest at all for her. "for my part, i cannot profess to understand such goings-on," she said in that convincing and convicting tone which implies that the speaker knows far more than he cares to state, and that the solution of the mystery must in any case be discreditable to all concerned. "i wonder, my dear," the rector said to his wife, "whether mr sharnall has the means to entertain the bishop properly." "properly!" said mrs parkyn--"properly! i think the whole proceeding entirely improper. do you mean has mr sharnall money enough to purchase a proper repast? i should say certainly not. or has he proper plates or forks or spoons, or a proper room in which to eat? of course he has not. or do you mean can he get things properly cooked? who is to do it? there is only feckless old miss joliffe and her stuck-up niece." the canon was much perturbed by the vision of discomfort which his wife had called up. "the bishop ought to be spared as much as _possible_," he said; "we ought to do all we _can_ to save him annoyance. what do you think? should we not put up with a little inconvenience, and ask sharnall to bring the bishop here, and lunch himself? he must know perfectly well that entertaining a bishop in a lodging-house is an unheard-of thing, and he would do to make up the sixth instead of old noot. we could easily tell noot he was not wanted." "sharnall is such a disreputable creature," mrs parkyn answered; "he is quite as likely as not to come tipsy; and, if he does not, he has no _breeding_ or education, and would scarcely understand polite conversation." "you forget, my dear, that the bishop is already pledged to lunch with mr sharnall, so that we should not be held responsible for introducing him. and sharnall has managed to pick up some sort of an education--i can't imagine where; but i found on one occasion that he could understand a little latin. it was the blandamer motto, `_aut fynes, aut finis_.' he may have been told what it meant, but he certainly seemed to know. of course, no real knowledge of latin can be obtained without a _university_ education"--and the rector pulled up his tie and collar--"but still chemists and persons of that sort do manage to get a smattering of it." "well, well, i don't suppose we are going to talk latin all through lunch," interrupted his wife. "you can do precisely as you please about asking him." the rector contented himself with the permission, however ungraciously accorded, and found himself a little later in mr sharnall's room. "mrs parkyn was hoping that she might have prevailed on you to lunch with us on the day of the confirmation. she was only waiting for the bishop's acceptance to send you an invitation; but we hear now," he said in a dubitative and tentative way--"we hear now that it is possible that the bishop may be lunching with you." there was a twitch about the corners of canon parkyn's mouth. the position that a bishop should be lunching with mr sharnall in a common lodging-house was so exquisitely funny that he could only restrain his laughter with difficulty. mr sharnall gave an assenting nod. "mrs parkyn was not quite sure whether you might have in your lodgings exactly everything that might be necessary for entertaining his lordship." "oh dear, yes," mr sharnall said. "it looks a little dowdy just this minute, because the chairs are at the upholsterers to have the gilt touched up; we are putting up new curtains, of _course_, and the housekeeper has already begun to polish the best silver." "it occurred to mrs parkyn," the rector continued, being too bent on saying what he had to say to pay much attention to the organist's remarks--"it occurred to mrs parkyn that it might perhaps be more convenient to you to bring the bishop to lunch at the rectory. it would spare you all trouble in preparation, and you would of course lunch with us yourself. it would be putting us to no inconvenience; mrs parkyn would be glad that you should lunch with us yourself." mr sharnall nodded, this time deprecatingly. "you are very kind. mrs parkyn is very considerate, but the bishop has signified his intention of lunching in _this_ house; i could scarcely venture to contravene his lordship's wishes." "the bishop is a friend of yours?" the rector asked. "you can scarcely say that; i do not think i have set eyes on the man for forty years." the rector was puzzled. "perhaps the bishop is under some misconception; perhaps he thinks that this house is still an inn--the hand of god, you know." "perhaps," said the organist; and there was a little pause. "i hope you will consider the matter. may i not tell mrs parkyn that you will urge the bishop to lunch at the rectory--that you both"--and he brought out the word bravely, though it cost him a pang to yoke the bishop with so unworthy a mate, and to fling the door of select hospitality open to mr sharnall--"that you both will lunch with us?" "i fear not," the organist said; "i fear i must say no. i shall be very busy preparing for the extra service, and if i am to play `see the conquering hero' as the bishop enters the church, i shall need time for practice. a piece like that takes some playing, you know." "i hope you will endeavour to render it in the very best manner," the rector said, and withdrew his forces _re infecta_. the story of mr sharnall's mental illusions, and particularly of the hallucination as to someone following him, had left an unpleasant impression on westray's mind. he was anxious about his fellow-lodger, and endeavoured to keep a kindly supervision over him, as he felt it to be possible that a person in such a state might do himself a mischief. on most evenings he either went down to mr sharnall's room, or asked the organist to come upstairs to his, considering that the solitude incident to bachelor life in advancing years was doubtless to blame to a large extent for these wandering fancies. mr sharnall occupied himself at night in sorting and reading the documents which had once belonged to martin joliffe. there was a vast number of them, representing the accumulation of a lifetime, and consisting of loose memoranda, of extracts from registers, of manuscript-books full of pedigrees and similar material. when he had first begun to examine them, with a view to their classification or destruction, he showed that the task was distinctly uncongenial to him; he was glad enough to make any excuse for interruption or for invoking westray's aid. the architect, on the other hand, was by nature inclined to archaeologic and genealogic studies, and would not have been displeased if mr sharnall had handed over to him the perusal of these papers entirely. he was curious to trace the origin of that chimera which had wasted a whole life--to discover what had led martin originally to believe that he had a claim to the blandamer peerage. he found, perhaps, an additional incentive in an interest which he was beginning unconsciously to take in anastasia joliffe, whose fortunes might be supposed to be affected by these investigations. but in a little while westray noticed a change in the organist's attitude as touching the papers. mr sharnall evinced a dislike to the architect examining them further; he began himself to devote a good deal more time and attention to their study, and he kept them jealously under lock and key. westray's nature led him to resent anything that suggested suspicion; he at once ceased to concern himself with the matter, and took care to show mr sharnall that he had no wish whatever to see more of the documents. as for anastasia, she laughed at the idea of there being any foundation underlying these fancies; she laughed at mr sharnall, and rallied westray, saying she believed that they both were going to embark on the quest of the nebuly coat. to miss euphemia it was no laughing matter. "i think, my dear," she said to her niece, "that all these searchings after wealth and fortune are not of god. i believe that trying to discover things"--and she used "things" with the majestic comprehensiveness of the female mind--"is generally bad for man. if it is good for us to be noblemen and rich, then providence will bring us to that station; but to try to prove one's self a nobleman is like star-gazing and fortune-telling. idolatry is as the sin of witchcraft. there can be no _blessing_ on it, and i reproach myself for ever having given dear martin's papers to mr sharnall at all. i only did so because i could not bear to go through them myself, and thought perhaps that there might be cheques or something valuable among them. i wish i had burnt everything at first, and now mr sharnall says he will not have the papers destroyed till he has been through them. i am sure they were no blessing at all to dear martin. i hope they may not bewitch these two gentlemen as well." chapter twelve. the scheme of restoration had been duly revised in the light of lord blandamer's generosity, and the work had now entered on such a methodical progress that westray was able on occasion to relax something of that close personal supervision which had been at first so exacting. mr sharnall often played for half an hour or more after the evening-service, and on such occasions westray found time, now and then, to make his way to the organ-loft. the organist liked to have him there; he was grateful for the token of interest, however slight, that was implied in such visits; and westray, though without technical knowledge, found much to interest him in the unfamiliar surroundings of the loft. it was a curious little kingdom of itself, situate over the great stone screen, which at cullerne divides the choir from the nave, but as remote and cut off from the outside world as a desert island. access was gained to it by a narrow, round, stone staircase, which led up from the nave at the south end of the screen. after the bottom door of this windowless staircase was opened and shut, anyone ascending was left for a moment in bewildering darkness. he had to grope the way by his feet feeling the stairs, and by his hand laid on the central stone shaft which had been polished to the smoothness of marble by countless other hands of past times. but, after half a dozen steps, the darkness resolved; there was first the dusk of dawn, and soon a burst of mellow light, when he reached the stairhead and stepped out into the loft. then there were two things which he noticed before any other--the bow of that vast norman arch which spanned the opening into the south transept, with its lofty and over-delicate roll and cavetto mouldings; and behind it the head of the blandamer window, where in the centre of the infinite multiplication of the tracery shone the sea-green and silver of the nebuly coat. afterwards he might remark the long-drawn roof of the nave, and the chevroned ribs of the norman vault, delimiting bay and bay with a saltire as they crossed; or his eyes might be led up to the lantern of the central tower, and follow the lighter ascending lines of abbot vinnicomb's perpendicular panelling, till they vanished in the windows far above. inside the loft there was room and to spare. it was formed on ample lines, and had space for a stool or two beside the performer's seat, while at the sides ran low bookcases which held the music library. in these shelves rested the great folios of boyce, and croft, and arnold, page and greene, battishill and crotch--all those splendid and ungrudging tomes for which the "rectors and foundation of cullerne" had subscribed in older and richer days. yet these were but the children of a later birth. round about them stood elder brethren, for cullerne minster was still left in possession of its seventeenth-century music-books. a famous set they were, a hundred or more bound in their old black polished calf, with a great gold medallion, and "tenor: decani," or "contra-tenor: cantoris", "basso," or "sopra," stamped in the middle of every cover. and inside was parchment with red-ruled margins, and on the parchment were inscribed services and "verse-anthems" and "ffull-anthems," all in engrossing hand and the most uncompromising of black ink. therein was a generous table of contents-mr batten and mr gibbons, mr mundy and mr tomkins, doctor bull and doctor giles, all neatly filed and paged; and mr bird would incite singers long since turned to churchyard mould to "bring forthe ye timbrell, ye pleasant harp and ye violl," and reinsist with six parts, and a red capital letter, "ye pleasant harp and ye violl." it was a great place for dust, the organ-loft--dust that fell, and dust that rose; dust of wormy wood, dust of crumbling leather, dust of tattered mothy curtains that were dropping to pieces, dust of primeval green baize; but mr sharnall had breathed the dust for forty years, and felt more at home in that place than anywhere else. if it was crusoe's island, he was crusoe, monarch of all he surveyed. "here, you can take this key," he said one day to westray; "it unlocks the staircase-door; but either tell me when to expect you, or make a noise as you come up the steps. i don't like being startled. be sure you push the door to after you; it fastens itself. i am always particular about keeping the door locked, otherwise one doesn't know what stranger may take it into his head to walk up. i can't bear being startled." and he glanced behind him with a strange look in his eyes. a few days before the bishop's visit westray was with mr sharnall in the organ-loft. he had been there through most of the service, and, as he sat on his stool in the corner, had watched the curious diamond pattern of light and dark that the clerestory windows made with the vaulting-ribs. anyone outside would have seen islands of white cloud drifting across the blue sky, and each cloud as it passed threw the heavy chevroned diagonals inside into bold relief, and picked out that rebus of a carding-comb encircled by a wreath of vine-leaves which nicholas vinnicomb had inserted for a vaulting-boss. the architect had learned to regard the beetling roof with an almost superstitious awe, and was this day so fascinated with the strange effect as to be scarcely aware that the service was over till mr sharnall spoke. "you said you would like to hear my service in d flat--`sharnall in d flat,' did you not? i will play it through to you now, if you care to listen. of course, i can only give you the general effect, without voices, though, after all, i don't know that you won't get quite as good an idea of it as you could with any voices that we have here." westray woke up from his dreams and put himself into an attitude of proper attention, while mr sharnall played the service from a faded manuscript. "now," he said, as he came towards the end--"now listen. this is the best part of it--a fugal _gloria_, ending with a pedal-point. here you are, you see--a tonic pedal-point, this d flat, the very last raised note in my new pedal-board, held down right through." and he set his left foot on the pedal. "what do you think of _that_ for a _magnificat_?" he said, when it was finished; and westray was ready with all the conventional expressions of admiration. "it is not bad, is it?" mr sharnall asked; "but the gem of it is the _gloria_--not real fugue, but fugal, with a pedal-point. did you catch the effect of that point? i will keep the note down by itself for a second, so that you may get thoroughly hold of it, and then play the _gloria_ again." he held down the d flat, and the open pipe went booming and throbbing through the long nave arcades, and in the dark recesses of the triforium, and under the beetling vaulting, and quavered away high up in the lantern, till it seemed like the death-groan of a giant. "take it up," westray said; "i can't bear the throbbing." "very well; now listen while i give you the _gloria_. no, i really think i had better go through the whole service again; you see, it leads up more naturally to the finale." he began the service again, and played it with all the conscientious attention and sympathy that the creative artist must necessarily give to his own work. he enjoyed, too, that pleasurable surprise which awaits the discovery that a composition laid aside for many years and half forgotten is better and stronger than had been imagined, even as a disused dress brought out of the wardrobe sometimes astonishes us with its freshness and value. westray stood on a foot-pace at the end of the loft which allowed him to look over the curtain into the church. his eyes roamed through the building as he listened, but he did not appreciate the music the less. nay, rather, he appreciated it the more, as some writers find literary perception and power of expression quickened at the influence of music itself. the great church was empty. janaway had left for his tea; the doors were locked, no strangers could intrude; there was no sound, no murmur, no voice, save only the voices of the organ-pipes. so westray listened. stay, were there no other voices? was there nothing he heard--nothing that spoke within him? at first he was only conscious of _something_--something that drew his attention away from the music, and then the disturbing influence was resolved into another voice, small, but rising very clear even above "sharnall in d flat." "the arch never sleeps," said that still and ominous voice. "the arch never sleeps; they have bound on us a burden too heavy to be borne. we are shifting it; we never sleep." and his eyes turned to the cross arches under the tower. there, above the bow of the south transept, showed the great crack, black and writhen as a lightning-flash, just as it had showed any time for a century--just the same to the ordinary observer, but not to the architect. he looked at it fixedly for a moment, and then, forgetting mr sharnall and the music, left the loft, and made his way to the wooden platform that the masons had built up under the roof. mr sharnall did not even perceive that he had gone down, and dashed _con furore_ into the _gloria_. "give me the full great," he called to the architect, who he thought was behind him; "give me the full great, all but the reed," and snatched the stops out himself when there was no response. "it went better that time--distinctly better," he said, as the last note ceased to sound, and then turned round for westray's comment; but the loft was empty--he was alone. "curse the fellow!" he said; "he might at least have let me know that he was going away. ah, well, it's all poor stuff, no doubt." and he shut up the manuscript with a lingering and affectionate touch, that contrasted with so severe a criticism. "it's poor stuff; why should i expect anyone to listen to it?" it was full two hours later that westray came quickly into the organist's room at bellevue lodge. "i beg your pardon, sharnall," he said, "for leaving you so cavalierly. you must have thought me rude and inappreciative; but the fact is i was so startled that i forgot to tell you why i went. while you were playing i happened to look up at that great crack over the south transept arch, and saw something very like recent movement. i went up at once to the scaffolding, and have been there ever since. i don't like it at all; it seems to me that the crack is opening, and extending. it may mean very serious mischief, and i have made up my mind to go up to london by the last train to-night. i must get sir george farquhar's opinion at once." the organist grunted. the wound inflicted on his susceptibility had rankled deeply, and indignation had been tenderly nursed. a piece of his mind was to have been given to westray, and he regretted the very reasonableness of the explanation that robbed him of his opportunity. "pray don't apologise," he said; "i never noticed that you had gone. i really quite forgot that you had been there." westray was too full of his discovery to take note of the other's annoyance. he was one of those excitable persons who mistake hurry for decision of action. "yes," he said, "i must be off to london in half an hour. the matter is far too serious to play fast-and-loose with. it is quite possible that we shall have to stop the organ, or even to forbid the use of the church altogether, till we can shore and strut the arch. i must go and put my things together." so, with heroic promptness and determination, he flung himself into the last train, and spent the greater part of the night in stopping at every wayside station, when his purpose would have been equally served by a letter or by taking the express at cullerne road the next morning. chapter thirteen. the organ was not silenced, nor was the service suspended. sir george came down to cullerne, inspected the arch, and rallied his subordinate for an anxiety which was considered to be unjustifiable. yes, the wall above the arch _had_ moved a little, but not more than was to be expected from the repairs which were being undertaken with the vaulting. it was only the old wall coming to its proper bearings--he would have been surprised, in fact, if no movement had taken place; it was much safer as it was. canon parkyn was in high good-humour. he rejoiced in seeing the pert and officious young clerk of the works put in his proper place; and sir george had lunched at the rectory. there was a repetition of the facetious proposal that sir george should wait for payment of his fees until the tower should fall, which acquired fresh point from the circumstance that all payments were now provided for by lord blandamer. the ha-ha-ing which accompanied this witticism palled at length even upon the robust sir george, and he winced under a dig in the ribs, which an extra glass of port had emboldened the canon to administer. "well, well, mr rector," he said, "we cannot put old heads on young shoulders. mr westray was quite justified in referring the matter to me. it _has_ an ugly look; one needs _experience_ to be able to see through things like this." and he pulled up his collar, and adjusted his tie. westray was content to accept his chief's decision as a matter of faith, though not of conviction. the black lightning-flash was impressed on his mental retina, the restless cry of the arches was continually in his ear; he seldom passed the transept-crossing without hearing it. but he bore his rebuke with exemplary resignation--the more so that he was much interested in some visits which lord blandamer paid him at this period. lord blandamer called more than once at bellevue lodge in the evenings, even as late as nine o'clock, and would sit with westray for two hours together, turning over plans and discussing the restoration. the architect learnt to appreciate the charm of his manner, and was continually astonished at the architectural knowledge and critical power which he displayed. mr sharnall would sometimes join them for a few minutes, but lord blandamer never appeared quite at his ease when the organist was present; and westray could not help thinking that mr sharnall was sometimes tactless, and even rude, considering that he was beholden to lord blandamer for new pedals and new bellows and a water-engine _in esse_, and for the entire repair of the organ _in posse_. "i can't help being `beholden to him,' as you genteelly put it," mr sharnall said one evening, when lord blandamer had gone. "i can't _stop_ his giving new bellows or a new pedal-board. and we do want the new board and the additional pipes. as it is, i can't play german music, can't touch a good deal of bach's organ work. who is to say this man nay, if he chooses to alter the organ? but i'm not going to truckle to anyone, and least of all to him. do you want me to fall flat on my face because he is a lord? pooh! we could all be lords like him. give me another week with martin's papers, and i'll open your eyes. ay, you may stare and sniff if you please, but you'll open your eyes then. _ex oriente lux_--that's where the light's coming from, out of martin's papers. once this confirmation over, and you'll see. i can't settle to the papers till that's done with. what do people want to confirm these boys and girls for? it only makes hypocrites of wholesome children. i hate the whole business. if people want to make their views public, let them do it at five-and-twenty; then we should believe that they knew something of what they were about." the day of the bishop's visit had arrived; the bishop had arrived himself; he had entered the door of bellevue lodge; he had been received by miss euphemia joliffe as one who receives an angel awares; he had lunched in mr sharnall's room, and had partaken of the cold lamb, and the stilton, and even of the cider-cup, to just such an extent as became a healthy and good-hearted and host-considering bishop. "you have given me a regular oxford lunch," he said. "your landlady has been brought up in the good tradition." and he smiled, never doubting that he was partaking of the ordinary provision of the house, and that mr sharnall fared thus sumptuously every day. he knew not that the meal was as much a set piece as a dinner on the stage, and that cold lamb and stilton and cider-cup were more often represented by the bottom of a tin of potted meat and--a gill of cheap whisky. "a regular oxford lunch." and then they fell to talking of old days, and the bishop called mr sharnall "nick," and mr sharnall called the bishop of carum "john"; and they walked round the room looking at pictures of college groups and college eights, and the bishop examined very tenderly the little water-colour sketch that mr sharnall had once made of the inner quad; and they identified in it their own old rooms, and the rooms of several other men of their acquaintance. the talk did mr sharnall good; he felt the better for it every moment. he had meant to be very proud and reserved with the bishop--to be most dignified and coldly courteous. he had meant to show that, though john willis might wear the gaiters, nicholas sharnall could retain his sturdy independence, and was not going to fawn or to admit himself to be the mental inferior of any man. he had meant to _give_ a tirade against confirmation, against the neglect of music, against rectors, with perhaps a back-thrust at the bench of bishops itself. but he had done none of these things, because neither pride nor reserve nor assertiveness were possible in john willis's company. he had merely eaten a good lunch, and talked with a kindly, broad-minded gentleman, long enough to warm his withered heart, and make him feel that there were still possibilities in life. there is a bell that rings for a few strokes three-quarters of an hour before every service at cullerne. it is called the burgess bell--some say because it was meant to warn such burgesses as dwelt at a distance that it was time to start for church; whilst others will have it that burgess is but a broken-down form of _expergiscere_--"awake! awake!"-that those who dozed might rise for prayer. the still air of the afternoon was yet vibrating with the burgess bell, and the bishop rose to take his leave. if it was the organist of cullerne who had been ill at ease when their interview began, it was the bishop of carisbury who was embarrassed at the end of it. he had asked himself to lunch with mr sharnall with a definite object, and towards the attainment of that object nothing had been done. he had learnt that his old friend had fallen upon evil times, and, worse, had fallen into evil courses--that the failing which had ruined his oxford career had broken out again with a fresh fire in advancing age, that nicholas sharnall was in danger of a drunkard's judgment. there had been lucid intervals in the organist's life; the plague would lie dormant for years, and then break out, to cancel all the progress that had been made. it was like a "race-game" where the little leaden horse is moved steadily forward, till at last the die falls on the fatal number, and the racer must lose a turn, or go back six, or, even in the worst issue, begin his whole course again. it was in the forlorn hope of doing something, however little, to arrest a man on the downward slope that the bishop had come to bellevue lodge; he hoped to speak the word in season that should avail. yet nothing had been said. he felt like a clerk who has sought an interview with his principal to ask for an increase of salary, and then, fearing to broach the subject, pretends to have come on other business. he felt like a son longing to ask his father's counsel in some grievous scrape, or like an extravagant wife waiting her opportunity to confess some heavy debt. "a quarter past two," the bishop said; "i must be going. it has been a great pleasure to recall the old times. i hope we shall meet again soon; but remember it is your turn now to come and see me. carisbury is not so very far off, so do come. there is always a bed ready for you. will you walk up the street with me now? i have to go to the rectory, and i suppose you will be going to the church, will you not?" "yes," said mr sharnall; "i'll come with you if you wait one minute. i think i'll take just a drop of something before i go, if you'll excuse me. i feel rather run down, and the service is a long one. you won't join me, of course?" and he went to the cupboard. the bishop's opportunity was come. "don't, sharnall. don't, nick," he said; "don't take that stuff. forgive me for speaking openly, the time is so short. i am not speaking professionally or from the religious standpoint, but only just as one man of the world to another, just as one friend to another, because i cannot bear to see you going on like this without trying to stop you. don't take offence, nick," he added, as he saw the change of the other's countenance; "our old friendship gives me a right to speak; the story you are writing on your own face gives me a right to speak. give it up. there is time yet to turn; give it up. let me help you; is there nothing i can do to help?" the angry look that crossed mr sharnall's face had given way to sadness. "it is all very easy for you," he said; "you've done everything in life, and have a long row of milestones behind you to show how you've moved on. i have done nothing, only gone back, and have all the milestones in front to show how i've failed. it's easy to twit me when you've got everything you want--position, reputation, fortune, a living faith to keep you up to it. i am nobody, miserably poor, have no friends, and don't believe half we say in church. what am i to do? no one cares a fig about me; what have i got to live for? to drink is the only chance i have of feeling a little pleasure in life; of losing for a few moments the dreadful consciousness of being an outcast; of losing for a moment the remembrance of happy days long ago: that's the greatest torment of all, willis. don't blame me if i drink; it's the _elixir vitae_ for me just as much as for paracelsus." and he turned the handle of the cupboard. "don't," the bishop said again, putting his hand on the organist's arm; "don't do it; don't touch it. don't make success any criterion of life; don't talk about `getting on.' we shan't be judged by how we have got on. come along with me; show you've got your old resolution, your old will-power." "i _haven't_ got the power," mr sharnall said; "i can't help it." but he took his hand from the cupboard-door. "then let me help it for you," said the bishop; and he opened the cupboard, found a half-used bottle of whisky, drove the cork firmly into it, and put it under his arm inside the lappet of his coat. "come along." so the bishop of carisbury walked up the high street of cullerne with a bottle of whisky under his left arm. but no one could see that, because it was hid under his coat; they only saw that he had his right arm inside mr sharnall's. some thought this an act of christian condescension, but others praised the times that were past; bishops were losing caste, they said, and it was a sad day for the church when they were found associating openly with persons so manifestly their inferiors. "we must see more of each other," the bishop said, as they walked under the arcade in front of the shops. "you must get out of this quag somehow. you can't expect to do it all at once, but we must make a beginning. i have taken away your temptation under my coat, and you must make a start from this minute; you must make me a promise _now_. i have to be in cullerne again in six days' time, and will come and see you. you must promise me not to touch anything for these six days, and you must drive back with me to carisbury when i go back then, and spend a few days with me. promise me this, nick; the time is pressing, and i must leave you, but you must promise me this first." the organist hesitated for a moment, but the bishop gripped his arm. "promise me this; i will not go till you promise." "yes, i promise." and lying-and-mischief-making mrs flint, who was passing, told afterwards how she had overheard the bishop discussing with mr sharnall the best means for introducing ritualism into the minster, and how the organist had promised to do his very best to help him so far as the musical part of the sendee was concerned. the confirmation was concluded without any contretemps, save that two of the grammar school boys incurred an open and well-merited rebuke from the master for appearing in gloves of a much lighter slate colour than was in any way decorous, and that this circumstance reduced the youngest miss bulteel to such a state of hysteric giggling that her mother was forced to remove her from the church, and thus deprive her of spiritual privileges for another year. mr sharnall bore his probation bravely. three days had passed, and he had not broken his vow--no, not in one jot or tittle. they had been days of fine weather, brilliantly clear autumn days of blue sky and exhilarating air. they had been bright days for mr sharnall; he was himself exhilarated; he felt a new life coursing in his veins. the bishop's talk had done him good; from his heart he thanked the bishop for it. giving up drinking had done him no harm; he felt all the better for his abstinence. it had not depressed him at all; on the contrary, he was more cheerful than he had been for years. scales had fallen from his eyes since that talk; he had regained his true bearings; he began to see the verities of life. how he had wasted his time! why _had_ he been so sour? why _had_ he indulged his spleen? why _had_ he taken such a jaundiced view of life? he would put aside all jealousies; he would have no enmities; he would be broader-minded--oh, so much broader-minded; he would embrace all mankind--yes, even canon parkyn. above all, he would recognise that he was well advanced in life; he would be more sober-thinking, would leave childish things, would resolutely renounce his absurd infatuation for anastasia. what a ridiculous idea--a crabbed old sexagenarian harbouring affection for a young girl! henceforth she should be nothing to him--absolutely nothing. no, that would be foolish; it would not be fair to her to cut her off from all friendship; he could feel for her a fatherly affection--it should be paternal and nothing more. he would bid adieu to all that folly, and his life should not be a whit the emptier for the loss. he would fill it with interests--all kinds of interests, and his music should be the first. he would take up again, and carry out to the end, that oratorio which he had turned over in his mind for years--the "absalom." he had several numbers at his fingers' ends; he would work out the bass solo, "oh, absalom, my son, my son!" and the double chorus that followed it, "make ready, ye mighty; up and bare your swords!" so he discoursed joyfully with his own heart, and felt above measure elated at the great and sudden change that was wrought in him, not recognising that the clouds return after the rain, and that the leopard may change his spots as easily as man may change his habits. to change a habit at fifty-five or forty-five or thirty-five; to ordain that rivers shall flow uphill; to divert the relentless sequence of cause and effect--how often dare we say this happens? _nemo repente_--no man ever suddenly became good. a moment's spiritual agony may blunt our instincts and paralyse the evil in us--for a while, even as chloroform may dull our bodily sense; but for permanence there is no sudden turning of the mind; sudden repentances in life or death are equally impossible. three halcyon days were followed by one of those dark and lowering mornings when the blank life seems blanker, and when the gloom of nature is too accurately reflected in the nervous temperament of man. on healthy youth climatic influences have no effect, and robust middle age, if it perceive them, goes on its way steadfast or stolid, with a _cela passera, tout passera_. but on the feeble and the failing such times fall with a weight of fretful despondency; and so they fell on mr sharnall. he was very restless about the time of the mid-day meal. there came up a thick, dark fog from the sea, which went rolling in great masses over cullerne flat, till its fringe caught the outskirts of the town. after that, it settled in the streets, and took up its special abode in bellevue lodge; till miss euphemia coughed so that she had to take two ipecacuanha lozenges, and mr sharnall was forced to ring for a lamp to see his victuals. he went up to westray's room to ask if he might eat his dinner upstairs, but he found that the architect had gone to london, and would not be back till the evening train; so he was thrown upon his own resources. he ate little, and by the end of the meal depression had so far got the better of him, that he found himself standing before a well-known cupboard. perhaps the abstemiousness of the last three days had told upon him, and drove him for refuge to his usual comforter. it was by instinct that he went to the cupboard; he was not even conscious of doing so till he had the open door in his hand. then resolution returned to him, aided, it may be, by the reflection that the cupboard was bare (for the bishop had taken away the whisky), and he shut the door sharply. was it possible that he had so soon forgotten his promise--had come so perilously near falling back into the mire, after the bright prospects of the last days, after so lucid an interval? he went to his bureau and buried himself in martin joliffe's papers, till the burgess bell gave warning of the afternoon service. the gloom and fog made way by degrees for a drizzling rain, which resolved itself into a steady downpour as the afternoon wore on. it was so heavy that mr sharnall could hear the indistinct murmur of millions of raindrops on the long lead roofs, and their more noisy splash and spatter as they struck the windows in the lantern and north transept. he was in a bad humour as he came down from the loft. the boys had sung sleepily and flat; jaques had murdered the tenor solo with his strained and raucous voice; and old janaway remembered afterwards that mr sharnall had never vouchsafed a good-afternoon as he strode angrily down the aisle. things were no better when he reached bellevue lodge. he was wet and chilled, and there was no fire in the grate, because it was too early in the year for such luxuries to be afforded. he would go to the kitchen, and take his tea there. it was saturday afternoon. miss joliffe would be at the dorcas meeting, but anastasia would be in; and this reflection came to him as a ray of sunlight in a dark and lowering time. anastasia would be in, and alone; he would sit by the fire and drink a cup of hot tea, while anastasia should talk to him and gladden his heart. he tapped lightly at the kitchen-door, and as he opened it a gusty buffet of damp air smote him on the face; the room was empty. through a half-open sash the wet had driven in, and darkened the top of the deal table which stood against the window; the fire was but a smouldering ash. he shut the window instinctively while he reflected. where could anastasia be? she must have left the kitchen some time, otherwise the fire would not be so low, and she would have seen that the rain was beating in. she must be upstairs; she had no doubt taken advantage of westray's absence to set his room in order. he would go up to her; perhaps there was a fire in westray's room. he went up the circular stone staircase, that ran like a wide well from top to bottom of the old hand of god. the stone steps and the stone floor of the hall, the stuccoed walls, and the coved stucco roof which held the skylight at the top, made a whispering-gallery of that gaunt staircase; and before mr sharnall had climbed half-way up he heard voices. they were voices in conversation; anastasia had company. and then he heard that one was a man's voice. what right had any man to be in westray's room? what man had any right to be talking to anastasia? a wild suspicion passed through his mind--no, that was quite impossible. he would not play the eavesdropper or creep near them to listen; but, as he reflected, he had mounted a step or two higher, and the voices were now more distinct. anastasia had finished speaking, and the man began again. there was one second of uncertainty in mr sharnall's mind, while the hope that it was not, balanced the fear that it was; and then doubt vanished, and he knew the voice to be lord blandamer's. the organist sprang up two or three steps very quickly. he would go straight to them--straight into westray's room; he would--and then he paused; he would do, what? what right had he to go there at all? what had he to do with them? what was there for anyone to do? he paused, then turned and went downstairs again, telling himself that he was a fool--that he was making mountains of molehills, that there did not exist, in fact, even a molehill; yet having all the while a sickening feeling within him, as if some gripping hand had got hold of his poor physical and material heart, and was squeezing it. his room looked more gloomy than ever when he got back to it, but it did not matter now, because he was not going to remain there. he only stopped for a minute to sweep back into the bureau all those loose papers of martin joliffe's that were lying in a tumble on the open desk-flap. he smiled grimly as he put them back and locked them in. _le jour viendra qui tout paiera_. these papers held a vengeance that would atone for all wrongs. he took down his heavy and wet-sodden overcoat from the peg in the hall, and reflected with some satisfaction that the bad weather could not seriously damage it, for it had turned green with wear, and must be replaced as soon as he got his next quarter's salary. the rain still fell heavily, but he _must_ go out. four walls were too narrow to hold his chafing mood, and the sadness of outward nature accorded well with a gloomy spirit. so he shut the street-door noiselessly, and went down the semicircular flight of stone steps in front of the hand of god, just as lord blandamer had gone down them on that historic evening when anastasia first saw him. he turned back to look at the house, just as lord blandamer had turned back then; but was not so fortunate as his illustrious predecessor, for westray's window was tight shut, and there was no one to be seen. "i wish i may never look upon the place again," he said to himself, half in earnest, and half with that cynicism which men affect because they know fate seldom takes them at their word. for an hour or more he wandered aimlessly, and found himself, as night fell, on the western outskirts of the town, where a small tannery carries on the last pretence of commercial activity in cullerne. it is here that the cull, which has run for miles under willow and alder, through deep pastures golden with marsh marigolds or scented with meadow-sweet, past cuckoo-flower and pitcher-plant and iris and nodding bulrush, forsakes better traditions, and becomes a common town-sluice before it deepens at the wharves, and meets the sandy churn of the tideway. mr sharnall had become aware that he was tired, and he stood and leant over the iron paling that divides the roadway from the stream. he did not know how tired he was till he stopped walking, nor how the rain had wetted him till he bent his head a little forward, and a cascade of water fell from the brim of his worn-out hat. it was a forlorn and dismal stream at which he looked. the low tannery buildings of wood projected in part over the water, and were supported on iron props, to which were attached water-whitened skins and repulsive portions of entrails, that swung slowly from side to side as the river took them. the water here is little more than three feet deep, and beneath its soiled current can be seen a sandy bottom on which grow patches of coarse duck-weed. to mr sharnall these patches of a green so dark and drain-soiled as to be almost black in the failing light, seemed tresses of drowned hair, and he weaved stories about them for himself as the stream now swayed them to and fro, and now carried them out at length. he observed things with that vacant observation which the body at times insists on maintaining, when the mind is busy with some overmastering preoccupation. he observed the most trivial details; he made an inventory of the things which he could see lying on the dirty bed of the river underneath the dirty water. there was a tin bucket with a hole in the bottom; there was a brown teapot without a spout; there was an earthenware blacking-bottle too strong to be broken; there were other shattered glass bottles and shards of crockery; there was a rim of a silk hat, and more than one toeless boot. he turned away, and looked down the road towards the town. they were beginning to light the lamps, and the reflections showed a criss-cross of white lines on the muddy road, where the water stood in the wheel-tracks. there was a dark vehicle coming down the road now, making a fresh track in the mud, and leaving two shimmering lines behind it as it went. he gave a little start when it came nearer, and he saw that it was the undertaker's cart carrying out a coffin for some pauper at the union workhouse. he gave a start and a shiver; the wet had come through his overcoat; he could feel it on his arms; he could feel the cold and clinging wet striking at his knees. he was stiff with standing so long, and a rheumatic pain checked him suddenly as he tried to straighten himself. he would walk quickly to warm himself--would go home at once. home-what _home_ had he? that great, gaunt hand of god. he detested it and all that were within its walls. that was no home. yet he was walking briskly towards it, having no other whither to go. he was in the mean little streets, he was within five minutes of his goal, when he heard singing. he was passing the same little inn which he had passed the first night that westray came. the same voice was singing inside which had sung the night that westray came. westray had brought discomfort; westray had brought lord blandamer. things had never been the same since; he wished westray had never come at all; he wished--oh, how he wished!--that all might be as it was before--that all might jog along quietly as it had for a generation before. she certainly had a fine voice, this woman. it really would be worth while seeing who she was; he wished he could just look inside the door. stay, he could easily make an excuse for looking in: he would order a little hot whisky-and-water. he was so wet, it was prudent to take something to drink. it might ward off a bad chill. he would only take a very little, and only as a medicine, of course; there could be no harm in _that_--it was mere prudence. he took off his hat, shook the rain from it, turned the handle of the door very gently, with the consideration of a musician who will do nothing to interrupt another who is making music, and went in. he found himself in that sanded parlour which he had seen once before through the window. it was a long, low room, with heavy beams crossing the roof, and at the end was an open fireplace, where a kettle hung above a smouldering fire. in a corner sat an old man playing on a fiddle, and near him the creole woman stood singing; there were some tables round the room, and behind them benches on which a dozen men were sitting. there was no young man among them, and most had long passed the meridian of life. their faces were sun-tanned and mahogany-coloured; some wore earrings in their ears, and strange curls of grey hair at the side of their heads. they looked as if they might have been sitting there for years--as if they might be the crew of some long-foundered vessel to whom has been accorded a nirvana of endless tavern-fellowship. none of them took any notice of mr sharnall, for music was exercising its transporting power, and their thoughts were far away. some were with old cullerne whalers, with the harpoon and the ice-floe; some dreamt of square-stemmed timber-brigs, of the baltic and the white memel-logs, of wild nights at sea and wilder nights ashore; and some, remembering violet skies and moonlight through the mango-groves, looked on the creole woman, and tried to recall in her faded features, sweet, swart faces that had kindled youthful fires a generation since. "then the grog, boys--the grog, boys, bring hither," sang the creole. "fill it up true to the brim. may the mem'ry of nelson ne'er wither nor the star of his glory grow dim." there were rummers standing on the tables, and now and then a drinking-brother would break the sugar-knobs in his liquor with a glass stirrer, or take a deep draught of the brown jorum that steamed before him. no one spoke to mr sharnall; only the landlord, without asking what he would take, set before him a glass filled with the same hot spirit as the other guests were drinking. the organist accepted his fate with less reluctance than he ought perhaps to have displayed, and a few minutes later was drinking and smoking with the rest. he found the liquor to his liking, and soon experienced the restoring influences of the warm room and of the spirit. he hung his coat up on a peg, and in its dripping condition, and in the wet which had penetrated to his skin, found ample justification for accepting without demur a second bumper with which the landlord replaced his empty glass. rummer followed rummer, and still the creole woman sang at intervals, and still the company smoked and drank. mr sharnall drank too, but by-and-by saw things less clearly, as the room grew hotter and more clouded with tobacco-smoke. then he found the creole woman standing before him, and holding out a shell for contributions. he had in his pocket only one single coin--a half-crown that was meant to be a fortnight's pocket-money; but he was excited, and had no hesitation. "there," he said, with an air of one who gives a kingdom--"there, take that: you deserve it; but sing me a song that i heard you sing once before, something about the rolling sea." she nodded that she understood, and after the collection was finished, gave the money to the blind man, and bade him play for her. it was a long ballad, with many verses and a refrain of: "oh, take me back to those i love, or bring them here to me; i have no heart to rove, to rove across the rolling sea." at the end she came back, and sat down on the bench by mr sharnall. "will you not give me something to drink?" she said, speaking in very good english. "you all drink; why should not i?" he beckoned to the landlord to bring her a glass, and she drank of it, pledging the organist. "you sing well," he said, "and with a little training should sing very well indeed. how do you come to be here? you ought to do better than this; if i were you, i would not sing in such company." she looked at him angrily. "how do _i_ come to be here? how do _you_ come to be here? if i had a little training, i should sing better, and if i had your training, mr sharnall"--and she brought out his name with a sneering emphasis--"i should not be here at all, drinking myself silly in a place like this." she got up, and went back to the old fiddler, but her words had a sobering influence on the organist, and cut him to the quick. so all his good resolutions had vanished. his promise to the bishop was broken; the bishop would be back again on monday, and find him as bad as ever--would find him worse; for the devil had returned, and was making riot in the garnished house. he turned to pay his reckoning, but his half-crown had gone to the creole; he had no money, he was forced to explain to the landlord, to humiliate himself, to tell his name and address. the man grumbled and made demur. gentlemen who drank in good company, he said, should be prepared to pay their shot like gentlemen. mr sharnall had drunk enough to make it a serious thing for a poor man not to get paid. mr sharnall's story might be true, but it was a funny thing for an organist to come and drink at the merrymouth, and have no money in his pocket. it had stopped raining; he could leave his overcoat as a pledge of good faith, and come back and fetch it later. so mr sharnall was constrained to leave this part of his equipment, and was severed from a well-worn overcoat, which had been the companion of years. he smiled sadly to himself as he turned at the open door, and saw his coat still hang dripping on the peg. if it were put up to auction, would it ever fetch enough to pay for what he had drunk? it was true that it had stopped raining, and though the sky was still overcast, there was a lightness diffused behind the clouds that spoke of a rising moon. what should he do? whither should he turn? he could not go back to the hand of god; there were some there who did not want him--whom he did not want. westray would not be home, or, if he were, westray would know that he had been drinking; he could not bear that they should see that he had been drinking again. and then there came into his mind another thought: he would go to the church, the water-engine should blow for him, and he would play himself sober. stay, _should_ he go to the church--the great church of saint sepulchre alone? would he be alone there? if he thought that he would be alone, he would feel more secure; but might there not be someone else there, or something else? he gave a little shiver, but the drink was in his veins; he laughed pot-valiantly, and turned up an alley towards the centre tower, that loomed dark in the wet, misty whiteness of the cloud screened moon. chapter fourteen. westray returned to cullerne by the evening train. it was near ten o'clock, and he was finishing his supper, when someone tapped at the door, and miss euphemia joliffe came in. "i beg your pardon for interrupting you, sir," she said; "i am a little anxious about mr sharnall. he was not in at teatime, and has not come back since. i thought you might know perhaps where he was. it is years since he has been out so late in the evening." "i haven't the least idea where he is," westray said rather testily, for he was tired with a long day's work. "i suppose he has gone out somewhere to supper." "no one ever asks mr sharnall out. i do not think he can be gone out to supper." "oh, well, i dare say he will turn up in due course; let me hear before you go to bed if he has come back;" and he poured himself out another cup of tea, for he was one of those thin-blooded and old-womanly men who elevate the drinking of tea instead of other liquids into a special merit. "he could not understand," he said, "why everybody did not drink tea. it was so much more refreshing--one could work so much better after drinking tea." he turned to some calculations for the section of a tie-rod, with which sir george farquhar had at last consented to strengthen the south side of the tower, and did not notice how time passed till there came another irritating tap, and his landlady reappeared. "it is nearly twelve o'clock," she said, "and we have seen nothing of mr sharnall. i am so alarmed! i am sure i am very sorry to trouble you, mr westray, but my niece and i are so alarmed." "i don't quite see what i am to do," westray said, looking up. "could he have gone out with lord blandamer? do you think lord blandamer could have asked him to fording?" "lord blandamer was here this afternoon," miss joliffe answered, "but he never saw mr sharnall, because mr sharnall was not at home." "oh, lord blandamer was here, was he?" asked westray. "did he leave no message for me?" "he asked if you were in, but he left no message for you. he drank a cup of tea with us. i think he came in merely as a friendly visitor," miss joliffe said with some dignity. "i think he came in to drink a cup of tea with me. i was unfortunately at the dorcas meeting when he first arrived, but on my return he drank tea with me." "it is curious; he seems generally to come on saturday afternoons," said westray. "are you _always_ at the dorcas meeting on saturday afternoons?" "yes," miss joliffe said, "i am always at the meeting on saturday afternoons." there was a minute's pause--westray and miss joliffe were both thinking. "well, well," westray said, "i shall be working for some time yet, and will _let_ mr sharnall in if he comes; but i suspect that he has been invited to spend the night at fording. anyhow, you can go to bed with a clear conscience, miss joliffe; you have waited up far beyond your usual time." so miss euphemia went to bed, and left westray alone; and a few minutes later the four quarter-chimes rang, and the tenor struck twelve, and then the bells fell to playing a tune, as they did every three hours day and night. those who dwell near saint sepulchre's take no note of the bells. the ear grows so accustomed to them, that quarter by quarter and hour by hour strike unperceived. if strangers come to stop under the shadow of the church the clangour disturbs their sleep for the first night, and after that they, too, hear nothing. so westray would sit working late night by night, and could not say whether the bells had rung or not. it was only when attention was too wide awake that he heard them, but he heard them this night, and listened while they played the sober melody of "mount ephraim." [see appendix at end for tune.] he got up, flung his window open, and looked out. the storm had passed; the moon, which was within a few hours of the full, rode serenely in the blue heaven with a long bank of dappled white cloud below, whose edge shone with an amber iridescence. he looked over the clustered roofs and chimneys of the town; the upward glow from the market-place showed that the lamps were still burning, though he could not see them. then, as the glow lessened gradually and finally became extinct, he knew that the lights were being put out because midnight was past. the moonlight glittered on the roofs, which were still wet, and above all towered in gigantic sable mass the centre tower of saint sepulchre's. westray felt a curious physical tension. he was excited, he could not tell why; he knew that sleep would be impossible if he were to go to bed. it _was_ an odd thing that sharnall had not come home; sharnall _must_ have gone to fording. he had spoken vaguely of an invitation to fording that he had received; but if he had gone there he must have taken some things with him for the night, and he had not taken anything, or miss euphemia would have said so. stay, he would go down to sharnall's room and see if he could find any trace of his taking luggage; perhaps he had left some message to explain his absence. he lit a candle and went down, down the great well-staircase where the stone steps echoed under his feet. a patch of bright moonshine fell on the stairs from the skylight at the top, and a noise of someone moving in the attics told him that miss joliffe was not yet asleep. there was nothing in the organist's room to give any explanation of his absence. the light of the candle was reflected on the front of the piano, and westray shuddered involuntarily as he remembered the conversation which he had a few weeks before with this friend, and mr sharnall's strange hallucinations as to the man that walked behind him with a hammer. he looked into the bedroom with a momentary apprehension that his friend might have been seized with illness, and be lying all this time unconscious; but there was no one there--the bed was undisturbed. so he went back to his own room upstairs, but the night had turned so chill that he could no longer bear the open window. he stood with his hand upon the sash looking out for a moment before he pulled it down, and noticed how the centre tower dominated and prevailed over all the town. it was impossible, surely, that this rock-like mass could be insecure; how puny and insufficient to uphold such a tottering giant seemed the tie-rods whose section he was working out. and then he thought of the crack above the south transept arch that he had seen from the organ-loft, and remembered how "sharnall in d flat" had been interrupted by the discovery. why, mr sharnall might be in the church; perhaps he had gone down to practise and been shut in. perhaps his key had broken, and he could not get out; he wondered that he had not thought of the church before. in a minute he had made up his mind to go to the minster. as resident architect he possessed a master key which opened all the doors; he would walk round, and see if he could find anything of the missing organist before going to bed. he strode quickly through the deserted streets. the lamps were all put out, for cullerne economised gas at times of full moon. there was nothing moving, his footsteps rang on the pavement, and echoed from wall to wall. he took the short-cut by the wharves, and in a few minutes came to the old bonding-house. the shadows hung like black velvet in the spaces between the brick buttresses that shored up the wall towards the quay. he smiled to himself as he thought of the organist's nervousness, of those strange fancies as to someone lurking in the black hiding-holes, and as to buildings being in some way connected with man's fate. yet he knew that his smile was assumed, for he felt all the while the oppression of the loneliness, of the sadness of a half-ruined building, of the gurgling mutter of the river, and instinctively quickened his pace. he was glad when he had passed the spot, and again that night, as he looked back, he saw the strange effect of light and darkness which produced the impression of someone standing in the shadow of the last buttress space. the illusion was so perfect that he thought he could make out the figure of a man, in a long loose cape that napped in the wind. he had passed the wrought-iron gates now--he was in the churchyard, and it was then that he first became aware of a soft, low, droning, sound which seemed to fill the air all about him. he stopped for a moment to listen; what was it? where was the noise? it grew more distinct as he passed along the flagged stone path which led to the north door. yes, it certainly came from inside the church. what could it be? what could anyone be doing in the church at this hour of night? he was in the north porch now, and then he knew what it was. it was a low note of the organ--a pedal-note; he was almost sure it was that very pedal-point which the organist had explained to him with such pride. the sound reassured him nothing had happened to mr sharnall--he was practising in the church; it was only some mad freak of his to be playing so late; he was practising that service "sharnall in d flat." he took out his key to unlock the wicket, and was surprised to find it already open, because he knew that it was the organist's habit to lock himself in. he passed into the great church. it was strange, there was no sound of music; there was no one playing; there was only the intolerably monotonous booming of a single pedal-note, with an occasional muffled thud when the water-engine turned spasmodically to replenish the emptying bellows. "sharnall!" he shouted--"sharnall, what are you doing? don't you know how late it is?" he paused, and thought at first that someone was answering him--he thought that he heard people muttering in the choir; but it was only the echo of his own voice, his own voice tossed from pillar to pillar and arch to arch, till it faded into a wail of "sharnall, sharnall!" in the lantern. it was the first time that he had been in the church at night, and he stood for a moment overcome with the mystery of the place, while he gazed at the columns of the nave standing white in the moonlight like a row of vast shrouded figures. he called again to mr sharnall, and again received no answer, and then he made his way up the nave to the little doorway that leads to the organ-loft stairs. this door also was open, and he felt sure now that mr sharnall was not in the organ-loft at all, for had he been he would certainly have locked himself in. the pedal-note must be merely ciphering, or something, perhaps a book, might have fallen upon it, and was holding it down. he need not go up to the loft now; he would not go up. the throbbing of the low note had on him the same unpleasant effect as on a previous occasion. he tried to reassure himself, yet felt all the while a growing premonition that something might be wrong, something might be terribly wrong. the lateness of the hour, the isolation from all things living, the spectral moonlight which made the darkness darker--this combination of utter silence, with the distressing vibration of the pedal-note, filled him with something akin to panic. it seemed to him as if the place was full of phantoms, as if the monks of saint sepulchre's were risen from under their gravestones, as if there were other dire faces among them such as wait continually on deeds of evil. he checked his alarm before it mastered him. come what might, he would go up to the organ-loft, and he plunged into the staircase that leads up out of the nave. it is a circular stair, twisted round a central pillar, of which mention has already been made, and though short, is very dark even in bright daylight. but at night the blackness is inky and impenetrable, and westray fumbled for an appreciable time before he had climbed sufficiently far up to perceive the glimmer of moonlight at the top. he stepped out at last into the loft, and saw that the organ seat was empty. the great window at the end of the south transept shone full in front of him; it seemed as if it must be day and not night--the light from the window was so strong in comparison with the darkness which he had left. there was a subdued shimmer in the tracery where the stained glass gleamed diaphanous--amethyst and topaz, chrysoprase and jasper, a dozen jewels as in the foundations of the city of god. and in the midst, in the head of the centre light, shone out brighter than all, with an inherent radiance of its own, the cognisance of the blandamers, the sea-green and silver of the nebuly coat. westray gave a step forward into the loft, and then his foot struck against something, and he nearly fell. it was something soft and yielding that he had struck, something of which the mere touch filled him with horrible surmise. he bent down to see what it was, and a white object met his eyes. it was the white face of a man turned up towards the vaulting; he had stumbled over the body of mr sharnall, who lay on the floor with the back of his head on the pedal-note. westray had bent low down, and he looked full in the eyes of the organist, but they were fixed and glazing. the moonlight that shone on the dead face seemed to fall on it through that brighter spot in the head of the middle light; it was as if the nebuly coat had blighted the very life out of the man who lay so still upon the floor. chapter fifteen. no evidence of any importance was given at the inquest except westray's and the doctor's, and no other evidence was, in fact, required. dr ennefer had made an autopsy, and found that the immediate cause of death was a blow on the back of the head. but the organs showed traces of alcoholic habit, and the heart was distinctly diseased. it was probable that mr sharnall had been seized with a fainting fit as he left the organ-stool, and had fallen backwards with his head on the pedal-board. he must have fallen with much violence, and the pedal-note had made a bad wound, such as would be produced by a blunt instrument. the inquest was nearly finished when, without any warning, westray found himself, as by intuition, asking: "the wound was such a one, you mean, as might have been produced by the blow of a hammer?" the doctor seemed surprised, the jury and the little audience stared, but most surprised of all was westray at his own question. "you have no _locus standi_, sir," the coroner said severely; "such an interrogation is irregular. you are to esteem it an act of grace if i allow the medical man to reply." "yes," said dr ennefer, with a reserve in his voice that implied that he was not there to answer every irrelevant question that it might please foolish people to put to him--"yes, such a wound as might have been caused by a hammer, or by any other blunt instrument used with violence." "even by a heavy stick?" westray suggested. the doctor maintained a dignified silence, and the coroner struck in: "i must say i think you are wasting our time, mr westray. i am the last person to stifle legitimate inquiry, but no inquiry is really needed here; it is quite certain that this poor man came to his end by falling heavily, and dashing his head against this wooden note in the pedals." "_is_ it quite certain?" westray asked. "is dr ennefer quite sure that the wound _could_ have been caused by a mere fall; i only want to know that dr ennefer is quite sure." the coroner looked at the doctor with a deprecating glance, which implied apologies that so much unnecessary trouble should be given, and a hope that he would be graciously pleased to put an end to it by an authoritative statement. "oh, i am quite sure," the doctor responded. "yes"--and he hesitated for the fraction of a second--"oh yes, there is no doubt such a wound could be caused by a fall." "i merely wish to point out," said westray, "that the pedal-note on which he fell is to a certain extent a yielding substance; it would yield, you must remember, at the first impact." "that is quite true," the doctor said; "i had taken that into account, and admit that one would scarcely expect so serious an injury to have been caused. but, of course, it _was_ so caused, because there is no other explanation; you don't suggest, i presume, that there was any foul play. it is certainly a case of accident or foul play." "oh no, i don't suggest anything." the coroner raised his eyebrows; he was tired, and could not understand such waste of time. but the doctor, curiously enough, seemed to have grown more tolerant of interruption. "i have examined the injury very carefully," he said, "and have come to the deliberate conclusion that it must have been caused by the wooden key. we must also recollect that the effect of any blow would be intensified by a weak state of health. i don't wish to rake up anything against the poor fellow's memory, or to say any word that may cause you pain, mr westray, as his friend; but an examination of the body revealed traces of chronic alcoholism. we must recollect that." "the man was, in fact, a confirmed drunkard," the coroner said. he lived at carisbury, and, being a stranger both to cullerne and its inhabitants, had no scruple in speaking plainly; and, besides this, he was nettled at the architect's interference. "you mean the man was a confirmed drunkard," he repeated. "he was nothing of the kind," westray said hotly. "i do not say that he never took more than was good for him, but he was in no sense an habitual drunkard." "i did not ask _your_ opinion," retorted the coroner; "we do not want any lay conjectures. what do you say, mr ennefer?" the surgeon was vexed in his turn at not receiving the conventional title of doctor, the more so because he knew that he had no legal right to it. to be called "mr" demeaned him, he considered, in the eyes of present or prospective patients, and he passed at once into an attitude of opposition. "oh no, you quite mistake me, mr coroner. i did not mean that our poor friend was an habitual drunkard. i never remember to have actually seen him the worse for liquor." "well, what do you mean? you say the body shows traces of alcoholism, but that he was not a drunkard." "have we any evidence as to mr sharnall's state on the evening of his death?" a juror asked, with a pleasant consciousness that he was taking a dispassionate view, and making a point of importance. "yes, we have considerable evidence," said the coroner. "call charles white." there stepped forward a little man with a red face and blinking eyes. his name was charles white; he was landlord of the merrymouth inn. the deceased visited his inn on the evening in question. he did not know deceased by sight, but found out afterwards who he was. it was a bad night, deceased was very wet, and took something to drink; he drank a fairish amount, but not _that_ much, not more than a gentleman should drink. deceased was not drunk when he went away. "he was drunk enough to leave his top-coat behind him, was he not?" the coroner asked. "did you not find this coat after he was gone?" and he pointed to a poor masterless garment, that looked greener and more outworn than ever as it hung over the back of a chair. "yes, deceased had certainly left his coat behind him, but he was not drunk." "there are different standards of drunkenness, gentlemen," said the coroner, imitating as well as he might the facetious cogency of a real judge, "and i imagine that the standard of the merrymouth may be more advanced than in some other places. i don't think"--and he looked sarcastically at westray--"i do _not_ think we need carry this inquiry farther. we have a man who drinks, not an habitual drunkard, mr ennefer says, but one who drinks enough to bring himself into a thoroughly diseased state. this man sits fuddling in a low public-house all the evening, and is so far overtaken by liquor when he goes away, that he leaves his overcoat behind him. he actually leaves his coat behind him, though we have it that it was a pouring wet night. he goes to the organ-loft in a tipsy state, slips as he is getting on to his stool, falls heavily with the back of his head on a piece of wood, and is found dead some hours later by an unimpeachable and careful witness"--and he gave a little sniff--"with his head still on this piece of wood. take note of that--when he was found his head was still on this very pedal which had caused the fatal injury. gentlemen, i do not think we need any further evidence; i think your course is pretty clear." all was, indeed, very clear. the jury with a unanimous verdict of accidental death put the colophon to the sad history of mr sharnall, and ruled that the same failing which had blighted his life, had brought him at last to a drunkard's end. westray walked back to the hand of god with the forlorn old top-coat over his arm. the coroner had formally handed it over to him. he was evidently a close friend of the deceased, he would perhaps take charge of his wearing apparel. the architect's thoughts were too preoccupied to allow him to resent the sneer which accompanied these remarks; he went off full of sorrow and gloomy forebodings. death in so strange a shape formed a topic of tavern discussion in cullerne, second only to a murder itself. not since mr leveritt, the timber-merchant, shot a barmaid at the blandamer arms, a generation since, had any such dramatic action taken place on cullerne boards. the loafers swore over it in all its bearings as they spat upon the pavement at the corner of the market square. mr smiles, the shop-walker in rose and storey's general drapery mart, discussed it genteelly with the ladies who sat before the counter on the high wicker-seated chairs. dr ennefer was betrayed into ill-advised conversation while being shaved, and got his chin cut. mr joliffe gave away a packet of moral reflections gratis with every pound of sausage, and turned up the whites of his eyes over the sin of intemperance, which had called away his poor friend in so terrible a state of unpreparedness. quite a crowd followed the coffin to its last resting-place, and the church was unusually full on the sunday morning which followed the catastrophe. people expected a "pulpit reference" from canon parkyn, and there were the additional, though subordinate, attractions of the playing of the dead march, and the possibility of an amateur organist breaking down in the anthem. church-going, which sprung from such unworthy motives, was very properly disappointed. canon parkyn would not, he said, pander to sensationalism by any allusion in his discourse, nor could the dead march, he conceived, be played with propriety under such very unpleasant circumstances. the new organist got through the service with provokingly colourless mediocrity, and the congregation came out of saint sepulchre's in a disappointed mood, as people who had been defrauded of their rights. then the nine days' wonder ceased, and mr sharnall passed into the great oblivion of middle-class dead. his successor was not immediately appointed. canon parkyn arranged that the second master at the national school, who had a pretty notion of music, and was a pupil of mr sharnall, should be spared to fill the gap. as queen elizabeth, of pious memory, recruited the privy purse by keeping in her own hand vacant bishoprics, so the rector farmed the post of organist at cullerne minster. he thus managed to effect so important a reduction in the sordid emoluments of that office, that he was five pounds in pocket before a year was ended. but if the public had forgotten mr sharnall, westray had not. the architect was a man of gregarious instinct. as there is a tradition and bonding of common interest about the universities, and in a less degree about army, navy, public schools, and professions, which draws together and marks with its impress those who are attached to them, so there is a certain cabala and membership among lodgers which none can understand except those who are free of that guild. the lodging-house life, call it squalid, mean, dreary if you will, is not without its alleviations and counterpoises. it is a life of youth for the most part, for lodgers of mr sharnall's age are comparatively rare; it is a life of simple needs and simple tastes, for lodgings are not artistic, nor favourable to the development of any undue refinement; it is not a rich life, for men as a rule set up their own houses as soon as they are able to do so; it is a life of work and buoyant anticipation, where men are equipping for the struggle, and laying the foundations of fortune, or digging the pit of indigence. such conditions beget and foster good fellowship, and those who have spent time in lodgings can look back to whole-hearted and disinterested friendships, when all were equal before high heaven, hail-fellows well met, who knew no artificial distinctions of rank--when all were travelling the first stage of life's journey in happy chorus together, and had not reached that point where the high road bifurcates, and the diverging branches of success and failure lead old comrades so very far apart. ah, what a camaraderie and fellowship, knit close by the urgency of making both ends meet, strengthened by the necessity of withstanding rapacious, or negligent, or tyrannous landladies, sweetened by kindnesses and courtesies which cost the giver little, but mean much to the receiver! did sickness of a transitory sort (for grievous illness is little known in lodgings) fall on the ground-floor tenant, then did not the first-floor come down to comfort him in the evenings? first-floor might be tired after a long day's work, and note when his frugal meal was done that 'twas a fine evening, or that a good company was billed for the local theatre; yet he would grudge not his leisure, but go down to sit with ground-floor, and tell him the news of the day, perhaps even would take him a few oranges or a tin of sardines. and ground-floor, who had chafed all the day at being shut in, and had read himself stupid for want of anything else to do, how glad he was to see first-floor, and how the chat did him more good than all the doctor's stuff! and later on, when some ladies came to lunch with first-floor on the day of the flower-show, did not ground-floor go out and place his sitting-room completely at his fellow-lodger's disposal, so that the company might find greater convenience and change of air after meat? they were fearful joys, these feminine visits, when ladies who were kind enough to ask a young man to spend a sunday with them, still further added to their kindness, by accepting with all possible effusion the invitation which he one day ventured to give. it was a fearful joy, and cost the host more anxious preparation than a state funeral brings to earl-marshal. as brave a face as might be must be put on everything; so many details were to be thought out, so many little insufficiencies were to be masked. but did not the result recompense all? was not the young man conscious that, though his rooms might be small, there was about them a delicate touch which made up for much, that everything breathed of refinement from the photographs and silver toddy-spoon upon the mantelpiece to rossetti's poems and "marius the epicurean," which covered negligently a stain on the green tablecloth? and these kindly ladies came in riant mood, well knowing all his little anxieties and preparations, yet showing they knew none of them; resolved to praise his rooms, his puny treasures, even his cookery and perilous wine, and skilful to turn little contretemps into interesting novelties. householders, yours is a noble lot, ye are the men, and wisdom shall die with you. yet pity not too profoundly him that inhabiteth lodgings, lest he turn and rend you, pitying you in turn that have bound on your shoulders heavy burdens of which he knows nothing; saying to you that seed time is more profitable than harvest, and the wandering years than the practice of the master. refrain from too much pity, and believe that loneliness is not always lonely. westray was of a gregarious temperament, and missed his fellow-lodger. the cranky little man, with all his soured outlook, must still have had some power of evoking sympathy, some attractive element in his composition. he concealed it under sharp words and moody bitterness, but it must still have been there, for westray felt his loss more than he had thought possible. the organist and he had met twice and thrice a day for a year past. they had discussed the minster that both loved so well, within whose walls both were occupied; they had discussed the nebuly coat, and the blandamers, and miss euphemia. there was only one subject which they did not discuss--namely, miss anastasia joliffe, though she was very often in the thoughts of both. it was all over now, yet every day westray found himself making a mental note to tell this to mr sharnall, to ask mr sharnall's advice on that, and then remembering that there is no knowledge in the grave. the gaunt hand of god was ten times gaunter now that there was no lodger on the ground-floor. footfalls sounded more hollow at night on the stone steps of the staircase, and miss joliffe and anastasia went early to bed. "let us go upstairs, my dear," miss euphemia would say when the chimes sounded a quarter to ten. "these long evenings are so lonely, are they not? and be sure you see that the windows are properly hasped." and then they hurried through the hall, and went up the staircase together side by side, as if they were afraid to be separated by a single step. even westray knew something of the same feeling when he returned late at night to the cavernous great house. he tried to put his hand as quickly as he might upon the matchbox, which lay ready for him on the marble-topped sideboard in the dark hall; and sometimes when he had lit the candle would instinctively glance at the door of mr sharnall's room, half expecting to see it open, and the old face look out that had so often greeted him on such occasions. miss joliffe had made no attempt to find a new lodger. no "apartments to let" was put in the window, and such chattels as mr sharnall possessed remained exactly as he left them. only one thing was moved--the collection of martin joliffe's papers, and these westray had taken upstairs to his own room. when they opened the dead man's bureau with the keys found in his pocket to see whether he had left any will or instructions, there was discovered in one of the drawers a note addressed to westray. it was dated a fortnight before his death, and was very short: "_if i go away and am not heard of, or if anything happens to me, get hold of martin joliffe's papers at once. take them up to your own room, lock them up, and don't let them out of your hands. tell miss joliffe it is my wish, and she will hand them over to you. be very careful there isn't a fire, or lest they should be destroyed in any other way. read them carefully, and draw your own conclusions; you will find some notes of mine in the little red pocket-book_." the architect had read these words many times. they were no doubt the outcome of the delusions of which mr sharnall had more than once spoken--of that dread of some enemy pursuing him, which had darkened the organist's latter days. yet to read these things set out in black and white, after what had happened, might well give rise to curious thoughts. the coincidence was so strange, so terribly strange. a man following with a hammer--that had been the organist's hallucination; the vision of an assailant creeping up behind, and doing him to death with an awful, stealthy blow. and the reality--an end sudden and unexpected, a blow on the back of the head, which had been caused by a heavy fall. was it mere coincidence, was it some inexplicable presentiment, or was it more than either? had there, in fact, existed a reason why the organist should think that someone had a grudge against him, that he was likely to be attacked? had some dreadful scene been really enacted in the loneliness of the great church that night? had the organist been taken unawares, or heard some movement in the silence, and, turning round, found himself alone with his murderer? and if a murderer, whose was the face into which the victim looked? and as westray thought he shuddered; it seemed it might have been no human face at all, but some fearful presence, some visible presentment of the evil that walketh in darkness. then the architect would brush such follies away like cobwebs, and, turning back, consider who could have found his interest in such a deed. against whom did the dead man urge him to be on guard lest martin's papers should be spirited away? was there some other claimant of that ill-omened peerage of whom he knew nothing, or was it--and westray resolutely quenched the thought that had risen a hundred times before his mind, and cast it aside as a malign and baseless suspicion. if there was any clue it must lie in those same papers, and he followed the instruction given him, and took them to his own room. he did not show miss joliffe the note; to do so could only have shaken her further, and she had felt the shock too severely already. he only told her of mr sharnall's wishes for the temporary disposal of her brother's papers. she begged him not to take them. "dear mr westray," she said, "do not touch them, do not let us have anything to do with them. i wanted poor dear mr sharnall not to go meddling with them, and now see what has happened. perhaps it is a judgment"--and she uttered the word under her breath, having a medieval faith in the vengeful irritability of providence, and seeing manifestations of it in any untoward event, from the overturning of an inkstand to the death of a lodger. "perhaps it is a judgment, and he might have been alive now if he had refrained. what good would it do us if all dear martin hoped should turn out true? he always said, poor fellow, that he would be `my lord' some day; but now he is gone there is no one except anastasia, and she would never wish to be `my lady,' i am sure, poor girl. you would not, darling, wish to be `my lady' even if you could, would you?" anastasia looked up from her book with a deprecating smile, which lost itself in an air of vexation, when she found that the architect's eyes were fixed steadfastly upon her, and that a responsive smile spread over his face. she flushed very slightly, and turned back abruptly to her book, feeling quite unjustifiably annoyed at the interest in her doings which the young man's gaze was meant to imply. what right had he to express concern, even with a look, in matters which affected _her_? she almost wished she _was_ indeed a peeress, and could slay him with her noble birth, as did one lady clara of old times. it was only lately that she had become conscious of this interested, would-be interesting, look, which westray assumed in her presence. was it possible that _he_ was falling in love with her? and at the thought there rose before her fancy the features of someone else, haughty, hard, perhaps malign, but oh, so powerful, and quite eclipsed and blotted out the lifeless amiability of this young man who hung upon her lips. could mr westray be thinking of falling in love with her? it was impossible, and yet this following her with his eyes, and the mellific manner which he adopted when speaking to her, insisted on its possibility. she ran over hastily in her mind, as she had done several times of late, the course of their relations. was she to blame? could anything that she had ever done be wrested into predilection or even into appreciation? could natural kindness or courtesy have been so utterly misunderstood? she was victoriously acquitted by this commission of mental inquiry, and left the court without a stain upon her character. she certainly had never given him the very least encouragement. at the risk of rudeness she _must_ check these attentions in their beginning. short of actual discourtesy, she must show him that this warm interest in her doings, these sympathetic glances, were exceedingly distasteful. she never would look near him again, she would keep her eyes rigorously cast down whenever he was present, and as she made this prudent resolution she quite unintentionally looked up, and found his patient gaze again fixed upon her. "oh, you are too severe, miss joliffe," the architect said; "we should all be delighted to see a title come to miss anastasia, and," he added softly, "i am sure no one would become it better." he longed to drop the formal prefix of miss, and to speak of her simply as anastasia. a few months before he would have done so naturally and without reflection, but there was something in the girl's manner which led him more recently to forego this pleasure. then the potential peeress got up and left the room. "i am just going to look after the bread," she said; "i think it ought to be baked by this time." miss joliffe's scruples were at last overborne, and westray retained the papers, partly because it was represented to her that if he did not examine them it would be a flagrant neglect of the wishes of a dead man--wishes that are held sacred above all others in the circles to which miss joliffe belonged--and partly because possession is nine points of the law, and the architect already had them safe under lock and key in his own room. but he was not able to devote any immediate attention to them, for a crisis in his life was approaching, which tended for the present to engross his thoughts. he had entertained for some time an attachment to anastasia joliffe. when he originally became aware of this feeling he battled vigorously against it, and his efforts were at first attended with some success. he was profoundly conscious that any connection with the joliffes would be derogatory to his dignity; he feared that the discrepancy between their relative positions was sufficiently marked to attract attention, if not to provoke hostile criticism. people would certainly say that an architect was marrying strangely below him, in choosing a landlady's niece. if he were to do such a thing, he would no doubt be throwing himself away socially. his father, who was dead, had been a wesleyan pastor; and his mother, who survived, entertained so great a respect for the high position of that ministry that she had impressed upon westray from boyhood the privileges and responsibilities of his birth. but apart from this objection, there was the further drawback that an early marriage might unduly burden him with domestic cares, and so arrest his professional progress. such considerations had due weight with an equally-balanced mind, and westray was soon able to congratulate himself on having effectually extinguished any dangerous inclinations by sheer strength of reason. this happy and philosophic state of things was not of long duration. his admiration smouldered only, and was not quenched, but it was a totally extraneous influence, rather than the constant contemplation of anastasia's beauty and excellencies, which fanned the flame into renewed activity. this extraneous factor was the entrance of lord blandamer into the little circle of bellevue lodge. westray had lately become doubtful as to the real object of lord blandamer's visits, and nursed a latent idea that he was using the church, and the restoration, and westray himself, to gain a _pied-a-terre_ at bellevue lodge for the prosecution of other plans. the long conversations in which the architect and the munificent donor still indulged, the examination of plans, the discussion of details, had lost something of their old savour. westray had done his best to convince himself that his own suspicions were groundless; he had continually pointed out to himself, and insisted to himself, that the mere fact of lord blandamer contributing such sums to the restoration as he either had contributed, or had promised to contribute, showed that the church was indeed his primary concern. it was impossible to conceive that any man, however wealthy, should spend many thousand pounds to obtain an entree to bellevue lodge; moreover, it was impossible to conceive that lord blandamer should ever marry anastasia--the disparity in such a match would, westray admitted, be still greater than in his own. yet he was convinced that anastasia was often in lord blandamer's thoughts. it was true that the master of fording gave no definite outward sign of any predilection when westray was present. he never singled anastasia out either for regard or conversation on such occasions as chance brought her into his company. at times he even made a show of turning away from her, of studiously neglecting her presence. but westray felt that the fact was there. there is some subtle effluence of love which hovers about one who entertains a strong affection for another. looks may be carefully guarded, speech may be framed to mislead, yet that pervading ambient of affection is strong to betray where perception is sharpened by jealousy. now and then the architect would persuade himself that he was mistaken; he would reproach himself with his own suspicious disposition, with his own lack of generosity. but then some little episode would occur, some wholly undemonstrable trifle, which swept his cooler judgment to the winds, and gave him a quite incommensurate heartburn. he would recall, for instance, the fact that for their interviews lord blandamer had commonly selected a saturday afternoon. lord blandamer had explained this by saying that he was busy through the week; but then a lord was not like a schoolboy with a saturday half-holiday. what business could he have to occupy him all the week, and leave him free on saturdays? it was strange enough, and stranger from the fact that miss euphemia joliffe was invariably occupied on that particular afternoon at the dorcas meeting; stranger from the fact that there had been some unaccountable misunderstandings between lord blandamer and westray as to the exact hour fixed for their interviews, and that more than once when the architect had returned at five, he had found that lord blandamer had taken four as the time of their meeting, and had been already waiting an hour at bellevue lodge. poor mr sharnall also must have noticed that something was going on, for he had hinted as much to westray a fortnight or so before he died. westray was uncertain as to lord blandamer's feelings; he gave the architect the idea of a man who had some definite object to pursue in making himself interesting to anastasia, while his own affections were not compromised. that object could certainly not be marriage, and if it was not marriage, what was it? in ordinary cases an answer might have been easy, yet westray hesitated to give it. it was hard to think that this grave man, of great wealth and great position, who had roamed the world, and known men and manners, should stoop to common lures. yet westray came to think it, and his own feelings towards anastasia were elevated by the resolve to be her knightly champion against all base attempts. can man's deepest love be deepened? then it must surely be by the knowledge that he is protector as well as lover, by the knowledge that he is rescuing innocence, and rescuing it for--himself. thoughts such as these bring exaltation to the humblest-minded, and they quickened the slow-flowing and thin fluid that filled the architect's veins. he came back one evening from the church weary with a long day's work, and was sitting by the fire immersed in a medley of sleepy and half-conscious consideration, now of the crack in the centre tower, now of the tragedy of the organ-loft, now of anastasia, when the elder miss joliffe entered. "dear me, sir," she said, "i did not know you were in! i only came to see your fire was burning. are you ready for your tea? would you like anything special to-night? you do look so very tired. i am sure you are working too hard; all the running about on ladders and scaffolds must be very trying. i think indeed, sir, if i may make so bold, that you should take a holiday; you have not had a holiday since you came to live with us." "it is not impossible, miss joliffe, that i may take your advice before very long. it is not impossible that i may before long go for a holiday." he spoke with that preternatural gravity which people are accustomed to throw into their reply, if asked a trivial question when their own thoughts are secretly occupied with some matter that they consider of deep importance. how could this commonplace woman guess that he was thinking of death and love? he must be gentle with her and forgive her interruption. yes, fate might, indeed, drive him to take a holiday. he had nearly made up his mind to propose to anastasia. it was scarcely to be doubted that she would at once accept him, but there must be no half-measures, he would brook no shilly-shallying, he would not be played fast and loose with. she must either accept him fully and freely, and at once, or he would withdraw his offer, and in that case, or still more in the entirely improbable case of refusal, he would leave bellevue lodge forthwith. "yes, indeed, i may ere long have to go away for a holiday." the conscious forbearance of replying at all gave a quiet dignity to his tone, and an involuntary sigh that accompanied his words was not lost upon miss joliffe. to her this speech seemed oracular and ominous; there was a sepulchral mystery in so vague an expression. he might _have_ to take a holiday. what could this mean? was this poor young man completely broken by the loss of his friend mr sharnall, or was he conscious of the seeds of some fell disease that others knew nothing of? he might _have to_ take a holiday. ah, it was not a mere holiday of which he spoke--he meant something more serious than that; his grave, sad manner could only mean some long absence. perhaps he was going to leave cullerne. to lose him would be a very serious matter to miss joliffe from the material point of view; he was her sheet-anchor, the last anchor that kept bellevue lodge from drifting into bankruptcy. mr sharnall was dead, and with him had died the tiny pittance which he contributed to the upkeep of the place, and lodgers were few and far between in cullerne. miss joliffe might well have remembered these things, but she did not. the only thought that crossed her mind was that if mr westray went away she would lose yet another friend. she did not approach the matter from the material point of view, she looked on him only as a friend; she viewed him as no money-making machine, but only as that most precious of all treasures--a last friend. "i may have to leave you for awhile," he said again, with the same portentous solemnity. "i hope not, sir," she interrupted, as though by her very eagerness she might avert threatened evil--"i hope not; we should miss you terribly, mr westray, with dear mr sharnall gone too. i do not know what we should do having no man in the house. it is so very lonely if you are away even for a night. i am an old woman now, and it does not matter much for me, but anastasia is so nervous at night since the dreadful accident." westray's face brightened a little at the mention of anastasia's name. yes, his must certainly be a very deep affection, that the naming of her very name should bring him such pleasure. it was on _his_ protection, then, that she leant; she looked on _him_ as her defender. the muscles of his not gigantic arms seemed to swell and leap to bursting in his coat-sleeves. those arms should screen his loved one from all evil. visions of perseus, and sir galahad, and cophetua, swept before his eyes; he had almost cried to miss euphemia, "you need have no fear, i love your niece. i shall bow down and raise her to my throne. they that would touch her shall only do so over my dead body," when hesitating common-sense plucked him by the sleeve; he must consult his mother before taking this grave step. it was well that reason thus restrained him, for such a declaration might have brought miss joliffe to a swoon. as it was, she noticed the cloud lifting on his face, and was pleased to think that her conversation cheered him. a little company was no doubt good for him, and she sought in her mind for some further topic of interest. yes, of course, she had it. "lord blandamer was here this afternoon. he came just like anyone else might have come, in such a very kind and condescending way to ask after me. he feared that dear mr sharnall's death might have been too severe a shock for us both, and, indeed, it has been a terrible blow. he was so considerate, and sat for nearly an hour--for forty-seven minutes i should say by the clock, and took tea with us in the kitchen as if he were one of the family. i never could have expected such condescension, and when he went away he left a most polite message for you, sir, to say that he was sorry that you were not in, but he hoped to call again before long." the cloud had returned to westray's face. if he had been the hero of a novel his brow would have been black as night; as it was he only looked rather sulky. "i shall have to go to london to-night," he said stiffly, without acknowledging miss joliffe's remarks; "i shall not be back to-morrow, and may be away a few days. i will write to let you know when i shall be back." miss joliffe started as if she had received an electric shock. "to london to-night," she began--"this very night?" "yes," westray said, with a dryness that would have suggested of itself that the interview was to be terminated, even if he had not added: "i shall be glad to be left alone now; i have several letters to write before i can get away." so miss euphemia went to impart this strange matter to the maiden who was _ex hypothesi_ leaning on the architect's strong arm. "what _do_ you think, anastasia?" she said. "mr westray is going to london to-night, perhaps for some days." "is he?" was all her niece's comment; but there was a languor and indifference in the voice, that might have sent the thermometer of the architect's affection from boiling-point to below blood-heat, if he could have heard her speak. westray sat moodily for a few moments after his landlady had gone. for the first time in his life he wished he was a smoker. he wished he had a pipe in his mouth, and could pull in and puff out smoke as he had seen sharnall do when _he_ was moody. he wanted some work for his restless body while his restless mind was turning things over. it was the news of lord blandamer's visit, as on this very afternoon, that fanned smouldering thoughts into flame. this was the first time, so far as westray knew, that lord blandamer had come to bellevue lodge without at least a formal excuse of business. with that painful effort which we use to convince ourselves of things of which we wish to be convinced in the face of all difficulties; with that blind, stumbling hope against hope with which we try to reconcile things irreconcilable, if only by so doing we can conjure away a haunting spectre, or lull to sleep a bitter suspicion; the architect had hitherto resolved to believe that if lord blandamer came with some frequency to bellevue lodge, he was only prompted to do so by a desire to keep in touch with the restoration, to follow with intelligence the expenditure of money which he was so lavishly providing. it had been the easier for westray to persuade himself that lord blandamer's motives were legitimate, because he felt that the other must find a natural attraction in the society of a talented young professional man. an occasional conversation with a clever architect on things architectural, or on other affairs of common interest (for westray was careful to avoid harping unduly on any single topic) must undoubtedly prove a relief to lord blandamer from the monotony of bachelor life in the country; and in such considerations westray found a subsidiary, and sometimes he was inclined to imagine primary, interest for these visits to bellevue lodge. if various circumstances had conspired of late to impugn the sufficiency of these motives, westray had not admitted as much in his own mind; if he had been disquieted, he had constantly assured himself that disquietude was unreasonable. but now disillusion had befallen him. lord blandamer had visited bellevue lodge as it were in his own right; he had definitely abandoned the pretence of coming to see westray; he had been drinking tea with miss joliffe; he had spent an hour in the kitchen with miss joliffe and--anastasia. it could only mean one thing, and westray's resolution was taken. an object which had seemed at best but mildly desirable, became of singular value when he believed that another was trying to possess himself of it; jealousy had quickened love, duty and conscience insisted that he should save the girl from the snare that was being set for her. the great renunciation must be made; he, westray, must marry beneath him, but before doing so he would take his mother into his confidence, though there is no record of perseus doing as much before he cut loose andromeda. meanwhile, no time must be lost; he would start this very night. the last train for london had already left, but he would walk to cullerne road station and catch the night-mail from thence. he liked walking, and need take no luggage, for there were things that he could use at his mother's house. it was seven o'clock when he came to this resolve, and an hour later he had left the last house in cullerne behind him, and entered upon his night excursion. the line of the roman way which connected carauna (carisbury) with its port culurnum (cullerne) is still followed by the modern road, and runs as nearly straight as may be for the sixteen miles which separate those places. about half-way between them the great southern main line crosses the highway at right angles, and here is cullerne road station. the first half of the way runs across a flat sandy tract called mallory heath, where the short greensward encroaches on the road, and where the eye roaming east or west or north can discern nothing except a limitless expanse of heather, broken here and there by patches of gorse and bracken, or by clumps of touselled and wind-thinned pines and scotch firs. the tawny-coloured, sandy, track is difficult to follow in the dark, and there are posts set up at intervals on the skirts of the way for travellers' guidance. these posts show out white against a starless night, and dark against the snow which sometimes covers the heath with a silvery sheet. on a clear night the traveller can see the far-off lamps of the station at cullerne road a mile after he has left the old seaport town. they stand out like a thin line of light in the distant darkness, a line continuous at first, but afterwards resolvable into individual units of lamps as he walks further along the straight road. many a weary wayfarer has watched those lamps hang changeless in the distance, and chafed at their immobility. they seem to come no nearer to him for all the milestones, with the distance from hyde park corner graven in old figures on their lichened faces, that he has passed. only the increasing sound of the trains tells him that he is nearing his goal, and by degrees the dull rumble becomes a clanking roar as the expresses rush headlong by. on a crisp winter day they leave behind them a trail of whitest wool, and in the night-time a fiery serpent follows them when the open furnace-door flings on the cloud a splendid radiance. but in the dead heats of midsummer the sun dries up the steam, and they speed along, the more wonderful because there is no trace to tell what power it is that drives them. of all these things westray saw nothing. a soft white fog had fallen upon everything. it drifted by in delicate whirling wreaths, that seemed to have an innate motion of their own where all had been still but a minute before. it covered his clothes with a film of the finest powdery moisture that ran at a touch into heavy drops, it hung in dripping dew on his moustache, and hair, and eyebrows, it blinded him, and made him catch his breath. it had come rolling in from the sea as on that night when mr sharnall was taken, and westray could hear the distant groaning of fog-horns in the channel; and looking backwards towards cullerne, knew from a blurred glare, now green, now red, that a vessel in the offing was signalling for a coastwise pilot. he plodded steadily forward, stopping now and then when he found his feet on the grass sward to recover the road, and rejoicing when one of the white posts assured him that he was still keeping the right direction. the blinding fog isolated him in a strange manner; it cut him off from nature, for he could see nothing of her; it cut him off from man, for he could not have seen even a legion of soldiers had they surrounded him. this removal of outside influences threw him back upon himself, and delivered him to introspection; he began for the hundredth time to weigh his position, to consider whether the momentous step that he was taking was necessary to his ease of mind, was right, was prudent. to make a proposal of marriage is a matter that may give the strongest-minded pause, and westray's mind was not of the strongest. he was clever, imaginative, obstinate, scrupulous to a fault; but had not that broad outlook on life which comes of experience, nor the power and resolution to readily take a decision under difficult circumstances, and to abide by it once taken. so it was that reason made a shuttlecock of his present resolve, and half a dozen times he stopped in the road meaning to abandon his purpose, and turn back to cullerne. yet half a dozen times he went on, though with slow feet, thinking always, was he right in what he was doing, was he right? and the fog grew thicker; it seemed almost to be stifling him; he could not see his hand if he held it at arm's length before his face. was he right, was there any right or any wrong, was anything real, was not everything subjective--the creation of his own brain? did he exist, was he himself, was he in the body or out of the body? and then a wild dismay, a horror of the darkness and the fog, seized hold of him. he stretched out his arms, and groped in the mist as if he hoped to lay hold of someone, or something, to reassure him as to his own identity, and at last a mind-panic got the better of him; he turned and started back to cullerne. it was only for a moment, and then reason began to recover her sway; he stopped, and sat down on the heather at the side of the road, careless that every spray was wet and dripping, and collected his thoughts. his heart was beating madly as in one that wakes from a nightmare, but he was now ashamed of his weakness and of the mental _debacle_, though there had been none to see it. what could have possessed him, what madness was this? after a few minutes he was able to turn round once more, and resumed his walk towards the railway with a firm, quick step, which should prove to his own satisfaction that he was master of himself. for the rest of his journey he dismissed bewildering questions of right and wrong, of prudence and imprudence, laying it down as an axiom that his emprise was both right and prudent, and busied himself with the more material and homely considerations of ways and means. he amused himself in attempting to fix the sum for which it would be possible for him and anastasia to keep house, and by mentally straining to the utmost the resources at his command managed to make them approach his estimate. another man in similar circumstances might perhaps have given himself to reviewing the chances of success in his proposal, but westray did not trouble himself with any doubts on this point. it was a foregone conclusion that if he once offered himself anastasia would accept him; she could not be so oblivious to the advantages which such a marriage would offer, both in material considerations and in the connection with a superior family. he only regarded the matter from his own standpoint; once he was convinced that _he_ cared enough for anastasia to make her an offer, then he was sure that she would accept him. it was true that he could not, on the spur of the moment, recollect many instances in which she had openly evinced a predilection for him, but he was conscious that she thought well of him, and she was no doubt too modest to make manifest, feelings which she could never under ordinary circumstances hope to see returned. yet he certainly _had_ received encouragement of a quiet and unobtrusive kind, quite sufficient to warrant the most favourable conclusions. he remembered how many, many times their eyes had met when they were in one another's company; she must certainly have read the tenderness which had inspired his glances, and by answering them she had given perhaps the greatest encouragement that true modesty would permit. how delicate and infinitely gracious her acknowledgment had been, how often had she looked at him as it were furtively, and then, finding his passionate gaze upon her, had at once cast her own eyes shyly to the ground! and in his reveries he took not into reckoning, the fact that through these later weeks he had scarcely ever taken his gaze off her, so long as she was in the same room with him. it would have been strange if their eyes had not sometimes met, because she must needs now and then obey that impulse which forces us to look at those who are looking at us. certainly, he meditated, her eyes had given him encouragement, and then she had accepted gratefully a bunch of lilies of the valley which he said lightly had been given him, but which he had really bought _ad hoc_ at carisbury. but, again, he ought perhaps to have reflected that it would have been difficult for her to refuse them. how could she have refused them? how could any girl under the circumstances do less than take with thanks a few lilies of the valley? to decline them would be affectation; by declining she might attach a false and ridiculous significance to a kindly act. yes, she had encouraged him in the matter of the lilies, and if she had not worn some of them in her bosom, as he had hoped she might, that, no doubt, was because she feared to show her preference too markedly. he had noticed particularly the interest she had shown when a bad cold had confined him for a few days to the house, and this very evening had he not heard that she missed him when he was absent even for a night? he smiled at this thought, invisibly in the fog; and has not a man a right to some complacence, on whose presence in the house hang a fair maiden's peace and security? miss joliffe had said that anastasia felt nervous whenever he, westray, was away; it was very possible that anastasia had given her aunt a hint that she would like him to be told this, and he smiled again in the fog; he certainly need have no fear of any rejection of his suit. he had been so deeply immersed in these reassuring considerations that he walked steadily on unconscious of all exterior objects and conditions until he saw the misty lights of the station, and knew that his goal was reached. his misgivings and tergiversations had so much delayed him by the way, that it was past midnight, and the train was already due. there were no other travellers on the platform, or in the little waiting-room where a paraffin-lamp with blackened chimney struggled feebly with the fog. it was not a cheery room, and he was glad to be called back from a contemplation of a roll of texts hanging on the wall, and a bottle of stale water on the table, to human things by the entry of a drowsy official who was discharging the duties of station-master, booking-clerk, and porter all at once. "are you waiting for the london train, sir?" he asked in a surprised tone, that showed that the night-mail found few passengers at cullerne road. "she will be in now in a few minutes; have you your ticket?" they went together to the booking-office. the station-master handed him a third-class ticket, without even asking how he wished to travel. "ah, thank you," westray said, "but i think i will go first-class to-night. i shall be more likely to have a compartment to myself, and shall be less disturbed by people getting in and out." "certainly, sir," said the station-master, with the marked increase of respect due to a first-class passenger--"certainly, sir; please give me back the other ticket. i shall have to write you one--we do not keep them ready; we are so very seldom asked for first-class at this station." "no, i suppose not," westray said. "things happen funny," the station-master remarked while he _got_ his pen. "i wrote one by this same train a month ago, and before that i don't think we have ever sold one since the station was opened." "ah," westray said, paying little attention, for he was engaged in a new mental disputation as to whether he was really justified in travelling first-class. he had just settled that at such a life-crisis as he had now reached, it was necessary that the body should be spared fatigue in order that the mind might be as vigorous as possible for dealing with a difficult situation, and that the extra expense was therefore justified; when the station-master went on: "yes, i wrote a ticket, just as i might for you, for lord blandamer not a month ago. perhaps you know lord blandamer?" he added venturously; yet with a suggestion that even the sodality of first-class travelling was not in itself a passport to so distinguished an acquaintance. the mention of lord blandamer's name gave a galvanic shock to westray's flagging attention. "oh yes," he said, "i know lord blandamer." "do you, indeed, sir"--and respect had risen by a skip greater than any allowed in counterpoint. "well, i wrote a ticket for his lordship by this very train not a month ago; no, it was not a month ago, for 'twas the very night the poor organist at cullerne was took." "yes," said the would-be indifferent westray; "where did lord blandamer come from?" "i do not know," the station-master replied--"i do _not_ know, sir," he repeated, with the unnecessary emphasis common to the uneducated or unintelligent. "was he driving?" "no, he walked up to this station just as you might yourself. excuse me, sir," he broke off; "here she comes." they heard the distant thunder of the approaching train, and were in time to see the gates of the level-crossing at the end of the platform swing silently open as if by ghostly hands, till their red lanterns blocked the cullerne road. no one got out, and no one but westray got in; there was some interchanging of post-office bags in the fog, and then the station-master-booking-clerk-porter waved a lamp, and the train steamed away. westray found himself in a cavernous carriage, of which the cloth seats were cold and damp as the lining of a coffin. he turned up the collar of his coat, folded his arms in a napoleonic attitude, and threw himself back into a corner to think. it was curious--it was very curious. he had been under the impression that lord blandamer had left cullerne early on the night of poor sharnall's accident; lord blandamer had told them at bellevue lodge that he was going away by the afternoon train when he left them. yet here he was at cullerne road at midnight, and if he had not come from cullerne, whence had he come? he could not have come from fording, for from fording he would certainly have taken the train at lytchett. it was curious, and while he was so thinking he fell asleep. chapter sixteen. a day or two later miss joliffe said to anastasia: "i think you had a letter from mr westray this morning, my dear, had you not? did he say anything about his return? did he say when he was coming back?" "no, dear aunt, he said nothing about coming back. he only wrote a few lines on a matter of business." "oh yes, just so," miss joliffe said dryly, feeling a little hurt at what seemed like any lack of confidence on her niece's part. miss joliffe would have said that she knew anastasia's mind so well that no secrets were hid from her. anastasia would have said that her aunt knew everything except a few _little_ secrets, and, as a matter of fact, the one perhaps knew as much of the other as it is expedient that age should know of youth. "the mind is its own place, and in itself can make a hell of heaven, a heaven of hell." of all earthly consolations this is the greatest, that the mind is its own place. the mind is an impregnable fortress which can be held against all comers, the mind is a sanctuary open day or night to the pursued, the mind is a flowery pleasance where shade refreshes even in summer droughts. to some trusted friend we try to give the clue of the labyrinth, but the ball of silk is too short to guide any but ourselves along all the way. there are sunny mountain-tops, there are innocent green arbours, or closes of too highly-perfumed flowers, or dank dungeons of despair, or guilty _mycethmi_ black as night, where we walk alone, whither we may lead no one with us by the hand. miss euphemia joliffe would have liked to ignore altogether the matter of westray's letter, and to have made no further remarks thereon; but curiosity is in woman a stronger influence than pride, and curiosity drove her to recur to the letter. "thank you, my dear, for explaining about it. i am sure you will tell me if there are any messages for me in it." "no, there was no message at all for you, i think," said anastasia. "i will get it for you by-and-by, and you shall see all he says;" and with that she left the room as if to fetch the letter. it was only a subterfuge, for she felt westray's correspondence burning a hole in her pocket all the while; but she was anxious that her aunt should not see the letter until an answer to it had been posted; and hoped that if she once escaped from the room, the matter would drop out of memory. miss joliffe fired a parting shot to try to bring her niece to her bearings as she was going out: "i do not know, my dear, that i should encourage any correspondence from mr westray, if i were you. it would be more seemly, perhaps, that he should write to me on any little matter of business than to you." but anastasia feigned not to hear her, and held on her course. she betook herself to the room that had once been mr sharnall's, but was now distressingly empty and forlorn, and there finding writing materials, sat down to compose an answer to westray's letter. she knew its contents thoroughly well, she knew its expressions almost by heart, yet she spread it out on the table before her, and read and re-read it as many times as if it were the most difficult of cryptograms. "dearest anastasia," it began, and she found a grievance in the very first word, "dearest." what right had he to call her "dearest"? she was one of those unintelligible females who do not shower superlatives on every chance acquaintance. she must, no doubt, have been callous as judged by modern standards, or at least, singularly unimaginative, for among her few correspondents she had not one whom she addressed as "dearest." no, not even her aunt, for at such rare times of absence from home as she had occasion to write to miss joliffe, "my dear aunt euphemia" was the invocation. it was curious that this same word "dearest" had occasioned westray also considerable thought and dubiety. should he call her "dearest anastasia," or "dear miss joliffe"? the first sounded too forward, the second too formal. he had discussed this and other details with his mother, and the die had at last fallen on "dearest." at the worst such an address could only be criticised as proleptic, since it must be justified almost immediately by anastasia's acceptance of his proposal. "dearest anastasia--for dearest you are and ever will be to me--i feel sure that your heart will go out to meet my heart in what i am saying; that your kindness will support me in the important step which has now to be taken." anastasia shook her head, though there was no one to see her. there was a suggestion of fate overbearing prudence in westray's words, a suggestion that he needed sympathy in an unpleasant predicament, that jarred on her intolerably. "i have known you now a year, and know that my happiness is centred in you; you too have known me a year, and i trust that i have read aright the message that your eyes have been sending to me. "`for i shall happiest be to-night, or saddest in the town; heaven send i read their message right, those eyes of hazel brown.'" anastasia found space in the press of her annoyance to laugh. it was more than a smile, it was a laugh, a quiet little laugh to herself, which in a man would have been called a buckle. her eyes were not hazel brown, they were no brown at all; but then brown rhymed with town, and after all the verse might perhaps be a quotation, and must so be taken only to apply to the situation in general. she read the sentence again, "i have known you now a year; you too have known me a year." westray had thought this poetic insistence gave a touch of romance, and balanced the sentence; but to anastasia it seemed the reiteration of a platitude. if he had known her a year, then she had known him a year, and to a female mind the sequitur was complete. "have i read the message right, dearest? is your heart my own?" message? what message did he speak of? what message did he imagine she had wished to give _him_ with her eyes? he had stared at her persistently for weeks past, and if her eyes sometimes caught his, that was only because she could not help it; except when between whiles she glanced at him of set purpose, because it amused her to see how silly a man in love may look. "say that it is; tell me that your heart is my own" (and the request seemed to her too preposterous to admit even of comment). "i watch your present, dear anastasia, with solicitude. sometimes i think that you are even now exposed to dangers of whose very existence you know nothing; and sometimes i look forward with anxiety to the future, so undecipherable, if misfortune or death should overtake your aunt. let me help you to decipher this riddle. let me be your shield now, and your support in the days to come. be my wife, and give me the right to be your protector. i am detained in london by business for some days more; but i shall await your answer here with overwhelming eagerness, yet, may i say it? not without hope. "your most loving and devoted "edward westray." she folded the letter up with much deliberation, and put it back into its envelope. if westray had sought far and wide for means of damaging his own cause, he could scarcely have found anything better calculated for that purpose than these last paragraphs. they took away much of that desire to spare, to make unpleasantness as little unpleasant as may be, which generally accompanies a refusal. his sententiousness was unbearable. what right had he to advise before he knew whether she would listen to him? what were these dangers to which she was even now exposed, and from which mr westray was to shield her? she asked herself the question formally, though she knew the answer all the while. her own heart had told her enough of late, to remove all difficulty in reading between mr westray's lines. a jealous man is, if possible, more contemptible than a jealous woman. man's greater strength postulates a broader mind and wider outlook; and if he fail in these, his failure is more conspicuous than woman's. anastasia had traced to jealousy the origin of westray's enigmatic remarks; but if she was strong enough to hold him ridiculous for his pains, she was also weak enough to take a woman's pleasure in having excited the interest of the man she ridiculed. she laughed again at the proposal that she should join him in deciphering any riddles, still more such as were undecipherable; and the air of patronage involved in his anxiety to provide for her future was the more distasteful in that she had great ideas of providing for it herself. she had told herself a hundred times that it was only affection for her aunt that kept her at home. were "anything to happen" to miss joliffe, she would at once seek her own living. she had often reckoned up the accomplishments which would aid her in such an endeavour. she had received her education--even if it were somewhat desultory and discontinuous--at good schools. she had always been a voracious reader, and possessed an extensive knowledge of english literature, particularly of the masters of fiction; she could play the piano and the violin tolerably, though mr sharnall would have qualified her estimate. she had an easy touch in oils and water-colour, which her father said she must have inherited from his mother--from that sophia joliffe who painted the great picture of the flowers and caterpillar, and her spirited caricatures had afforded much merriment to her schoolfellows. she made her own clothes, and was sure that she had a taste in matters of dress design and manufacture that would bring her distinction if she were only given the opportunity of employing it; she believed that she had an affection for children, and a natural talent for training them, though she never saw any at cullerne. with gifts such as these, which must be patent to others as well as herself, there would surely be no difficulty in obtaining an excellent place as governess if she should ever determine to adopt that walk of life; and she was sometimes inclined to gird at fate, which for the present led her to deprive the world of these benefits. in her inmost heart, however, she doubted whether she would be really justified in devoting herself to teaching; for she was conscious that she might be called to fill a higher mission, and to instruct by the pen rather than by word of mouth. as every soldier carries in his knapsack the baton of the field marshal, so every girl in her teens knows that there lie hidden in the recesses of her _armoire_, the robes and coronet and full insignia of a first-rate novelist. she may not choose to take them out and air them, the crown may tarnish by disuse, the moth of indolence may corrupt, but there lies the panoply in which she may on any day appear fully dight, for the astonishment of an awakening world. jane austen and maria edgworth are heroines, whose aureoles shine in the painted windows of such airy castles; charlotte bronte wrote her masterpieces in a seclusion as deep as that of bellevue lodge; and anastasia joliffe thought many a time of that day when, afar off from her watch-tower in quiet cullerne, she would follow the triumphant progress of an epoch-making romance. it would be published under a _nom de plume_, of course, she would not use her own name till she had felt her feet; and the choice of the pseudonym was the only definite step towards this venture that she had yet made. the period was still uncertain. sometimes the action was to be placed in the eighteenth century, with tall silver urns and spindled-legged tables, and breast-waisted dresses; sometimes in the struggle of the roses, when barons swam rivers in full armour after a bloody bout; sometimes in the civil war, when vandyke drew the arched eyebrow and taper hand, and when the shadow of death was over all. it was to the civil war that her fancy turned oftenest, and now and again, as she sat before her looking-glass, she fancied that she had a vandyke face herself. and so it was indeed; and if the mirror was fogged and dull and outworn, and if the dress that it reflected was not of plum or amber velvet, one still might fancy that she was a loyalist daughter whose fortunes were fallen with her master's. the limner of the king would have rejoiced to paint the sweet, young, oval face and little mouth; he would have found the space between the eyebrow and the eyelid to his liking. if the plot were still shadowy, her characters were always with her, in armour or sprigged prints; and, the mind being its own place, she took about a little court of her own, where dreadful tragedies were enacted, and valorous deeds done; where passionate young love suffered and wept, and where a mere girl of eighteen, by consummate resolution, daring, beauty, genius, and physical strength, always righted the situation, and brought peace at the last. with resources such as these, the future did not present itself in dark colours to anastasia; nor did its riddle appear to her nearly so undecipherable as mr westray had supposed. she would have resented, with all the confidence of inexperience, _any_ attempt to furnish her with prospects; and she resented westray's offer all the more vigorously because it seemed to carry with it a suggestion of her own forlorn position, to insist unduly on her own good fortune in receiving such a proposal, and on his condescension in making it. there are women who put marriage in the forefront of life, whose thoughts revolve constantly about it as a centre, and with whom an advantageous match, or, failing that, a match of some sort, is the primary object. there are others who regard marriage as an eventuality, to be contemplated without either eagerness or avoidance, to be accepted or declined according as its circumstances may be favourable or unfavourable. again, there are some who seem, even from youth, to resolutely eliminate wedlock from their thoughts, to permit themselves no mental discussion upon this subject. though a man profess that he will never marry, experience has shown that his resolve is often subject to reconsideration. but with unmarrying women the case is different, and unmarried for the most part they remain, for man is often so weak-kneed a creature in matters of the heart, that he refrains from pursuing where an unsympathetic attitude discourages pursuit. it may be that some of these women, also, would wish to reconsider their verdict, but find that they have reached an age when there is no place for repentance; yet, for the most part, woman's resolve upon such matters is more stable than man's, and that because the interests at stake in marriage are for her more vital than can ever be the case with man. it was to the class of indifferentists that anastasia belonged; she neither sought nor shunned a change of state, but regarded marriage as an accident that, in befalling her, might substantially change the outlook. it would render a life of teaching, no doubt, impossible; domestic or maternal cares might to some extent trammel even literary activity (for, married or not married, she was determined to fulfil her mission of writing), but in no case was she inclined to regard marriage as an escape from difficulties, as the solution of so trivial a problem as that of existence. she read westray's letter once more from beginning to end. it was duller than ever. it reflected its writer; she had always thought him unromantic, and now he seemed to her intolerably prosaic, conceited, pettifogging, utilitarian. to be his wife! she had rather slave as a nursery-governess all her life! and how could she write fiction with such a one for mentor and company? he would expect her to be methodic, to see that eggs were fresh, and beds well aired. so, by thinking, she reasoned herself into such a theoretic reprobation of this attempt upon her, that his offer became a heinous crime. if she answered him shortly, brusquely, nay rudely, it would be but what he deserved for making her ridiculous to herself by so absurd a proposal, and she opened her writing-case with much firmness and resolution. it was a little wooden case covered in imitation leather, with _papeterie_ stamped in gold upon the top. she had no exaggerated notions as to its intrinsic worth, but it was valuable in her eyes as being a present from her father. it was, in fact, the only gift he ever had bestowed upon her; but on this he had expended at least half a crown, in a fit of unusual generosity when he sent her with a great flourish of trumpets to mrs howard's school at carisbury. she remembered his very words. "take this, child," he said; "you are now going to a first-class place of education, and it is right that you should have a proper equipment," and so gave her the _papeterie_. it had to cover a multitude of deficiencies, and poor anastasia lamented that it had not been a new hair-brush, half a dozen pocket-handkerchiefs, or even a sound pair of shoes. still it had stood in good stead, for with it she had written all her letters ever since, and being the only receptacle with lock and key to which she had access, she had made it a little ark and coffer for certain girlish treasures. with such it was stuffed so full that they came crowding out as she opened it. there were several letters to which romance attached, relics of that delightful but far too short school-time at carisbury; there was her programme, with rudely-scribbled names of partners, for the splendid dance at the term's end, to which a selection of other girls' brothers were invited; a pressed rose given her by someone which she had worn in her bosom on that historic occasion, and many other equally priceless mementoes. somehow these things seemed now neither so romantic nor so precious as on former occasions; she was even inclined to smile, and to make light of them, and then a little bit of paper fluttered off the table on to the floor. she stooped and picked up the flap of an envelope with the coronet and "fording" stamped in black upon it which she had found one day when westray's waste-paper basket was emptied. it was a simple device enough, but it must have furnished her food for thought, for it lay under her eyes on the table for at least ten minutes before she put it carefully back into the _papeterie_, and began her letter to westray. she found no difficulty in answering, but the interval of reflection had soothed her irritation, and blunted her animosity. her reply was neither brusque nor rude, it leant rather to conventionalism than to originality, and she used, after all, those phrases which have been commonplaces in such circumstances, since man first asked and woman first refused. she thanked mr westray for the kind interest which he had taken in her, she was deeply conscious of the consideration which he had shown her. she was grieved--sincerely grieved--to tell him that things could not be as he wished. she was so afraid that her letter would seem unkind; she did not mean it to be unkind. however difficult it was to say it now, she thought it was the truest kindness not to disguise from him that things _never_ could be as he wished. she paused a little to review this last sentiment, but she allowed it to remain, for she was anxious to avoid any recrudescence of the suppliant's passion, and to show that her decision was final. she should always feel the greatest esteem for mr westray; she trusted that the present circumstances would not interrupt their friendship in any way. she hoped that their relations might continue as in the past, and in this hope she remained very truly his. she gave a sigh of relief when the letter was finished, and read it through carefully, putting in commas and semicolons and colons at what she thought appropriate places. such punctilio pleased her; it was, she considered, due from one who aspired to a literary style, and aimed at making a living by the pen. though this was the first answer to a proposal that she had written on her own account, she was not altogether without practice in such matters, as she had composed others for her heroines who had found themselves in like position. her manner, also, was perhaps unconsciously influenced by a perusal of "the young person's compleat correspondent, and guide to answers to be given in the various circumstances of life," which, in a tattered calf covering, formed an item in miss euphemia's library. it was not till the missive was duly sealed up and posted that she told her aunt of what had happened. "there is mr westray's letter," she said, "if you would care to read it," and passed over to miss joliffe the piece of white paper on which a man had staked his fate. miss joliffe took the letter with an attempt to assume an indifferent manner, which was unsuccessful, because an offer of marriage has about it a certain exhalation and atmosphere that betrays its importance even to the most unsuspicious. she was a slow reader, and, after wiping and adjusting her spectacles, sat down for a steady and patient consideration of the matter before her. but the first word that she deciphered, "dearest," startled her composure, and she pressed on through the letter with a haste that was foreign to her disposition. her mouth grew rounder as she read, and she sighed out "dear's" and "dear anastasia's" and "dear child's" at intervals as a relief to her feelings. anastasia stood by her, following the lines of writing that she knew by heart, with all the impatience of one who is reading ten times faster than another who turns the page. miss joliffe's mind was filled with conflicting emotions; she was glad at the prospect of a more assured future that was opening before her niece, she was hurt at not having been taken sooner into confidence, for anastasia must certainly have known that he was going to propose; she was chagrined at not having noticed a courtship which had been carried on under her very eyes; she was troubled at the thought that the marriage would entail the separation from one who was to her as a child. how weary she would find it to walk alone down the long paths of old age! how hard it was to be deprived of a dear arm on whose support she had reckoned for when "the slow dark hours begin"! but she thrust this reflection away from her as selfish, and contrition for having harboured it found expression in a hand wrinkled and roughened by hard wear, which stole into anastasia's. "my dear," she said, "i am very glad at your good fortune; this is a great thing that has befallen you." a general content that anastasia should have received a proposal silenced her misgivings. to the recipient, an offer of marriage, be it good, bad, or indifferent, to be accepted or to be refused, brings a certain complacent satisfaction. she may pretend to make light of it, to be displeased at it, to resent it, as did anastasia; but in her heart of hearts there lurks the self-appreciating reflection that she has won the completest admiration of a man. if he be a man that she would not marry under any conditions, if he be a fool, or a spendthrift, or an evil-liver, he is still a man, and she has captured him. her relations share in the same pleasurable reflections. if the offer is accepted, then a future has been provided for one whose future, maybe, was not too certain; if it is declined, then they congratulate themselves on the high morale or strong common-sense of a kinswoman who refuses to be won by gold, or to link her destiny with an unsuitable partner. "it is a great thing, my dear, that has befallen you," miss joliffe repeated. "i wish you all happiness, dear anastasia, and may all blessings wait upon you in this engagement." "aunt," interrupted her niece, "please don't say that. i have refused him, _of course_; how could you think that i should marry mr westray? i never have thought of any such thing with him. i never had the least idea of his writing like this." "you have refused him?" said the elder lady with a startled emphasis. again a selfish reflection crossed her mind--they were not to be parted after all--and again she put it resolutely away. she ran over in her mind all the possible objections that could have influenced her niece in arriving at such a conclusion. religion was the keynote of miss joliffe's life; to religion her thought reverted as the needle to the pole, and to it she turned for an explanation now. it must be some religious consideration that had proved an obstacle to anastasia. "i do not think you need find any difficulty in his having been brought up as a wesleyan," she said, with a profound conviction that she had put her finger on the matter, and with some consciousness of her own perspicacity. "his father has been dead some time, and though his mother is still alive, you would not have to live with her. i do not think, dear, she would at all wish you to become a methodist. as for our mr westray, your mr westray, i should say now," and she assumed that expression of archness which is considered appropriate to such occasions, "i am sure he is a sound churchman. he goes regularly to the minster on sundays, and i dare say, being an architect, and often in church on week-days, he has found out that the order of the church of england is more satisfactory than that of any other sect. though i am sure i do not wish to say one word against wesleyans; they are no doubt true protestants, and a bulwark against more serious errors. i rejoice that your lover's early training will have saved him from any inclination to ritualism." "my dear aunt," anastasia broke in, with a stress of earnest deprecation on the "dear" that startled her aunt, "please do _not_ go on like that. do not call mr westray my lover; i have told you that i will have nothing to do with him." miss joliffe's thoughts had moved through a wide arc. now that this offer of marriage was about to be refused, now that this engagement was not to be, the advantages that it offered stood out in high relief. it seemed too sad that the curtain should be rung down just as the action of a drama of intense interest was beginning, that the good should slip through their fingers just as they were grasping it. she gave no thought now to that fear of a lonely old age which had troubled her a few minutes before; she only saw the provision for the future which anastasia was wilfully sacrificing. her hand tightened automatically, and crumpled a long piece of paper that she was holding. it was only a milkman's bill, and yet it might perhaps have unconsciously given a materialistic colour to her thoughts. "we should not reject any good thing that is put before us," she said a little stiffly, "without being very certain that we are right to do so. i do not know what would become of you, anastasia, if anything were to happen to me." "that is exactly what he says, that is the very argument which he uses. why should you take such a gloomy view of things? why should something _happening_ always mean something bad. let us hope something good will happen, that someone else will make me a better offer." she laughed, and went on reflectively: "i wonder whether mr westray will come back here to lodge; i hope he won't." hardly were the words out of her mouth when she was sorry for uttering them, for she saw the look of sadness which overspread miss joliffe's face. "dear aunt," she cried, "i am so sorry; i didn't mean to say that. i know what a difference it would make; we cannot afford to lose our last lodger. i hope he _will_ come back, and i will do everything i can to make things comfortable, short of marrying him. i will earn some money myself. i will _write_." "how will you write? who is there to write to?" miss joliffe said, and then the blank look on her face grew blanker, and she took out her handkerchief. "there is no one to help us. anyone who ever cared for us is dead long ago; there is no one to write to now." chapter seventeen. westray played the role of rejected lover most conscientiously; he treated the episode of his refusal on strictly conventional lines. he assured himself and his mother that the light of his life was extinguished, that he was the most unhappy of mortals. it was at this time that he wrote some verses called "autumn," with a refrain of- "for all my hopes are cold and dead, and fallen like the fallen leaves," which were published in the _clapton methodist_, and afterwards set to music by a young lady who wished to bind up another wounded heart. he attempted to lie awake of nights with indifferent success, and hinted in conversation at the depressing influence which insomnia exerts over its victims. for several meals in succession he refused to eat heartily of such dishes as he did not like, and his mother felt serious anxiety as to his general state of health. she inveighed intemperately against anastasia for having refused her son, but then she would have inveighed still more intemperately had anastasia accepted him. she wearied him with the portentous gloom which she affected in his presence, and quoted lady clara vere de vere's cruelty in turning honest hearts to gall, till even the rejected one was forced to smile bitterly at so inapposite a parallel. though mrs westray senior poured out the vials of her wrath on anastasia for having refused to become mrs westray junior, she was at heart devoutly glad at the turn events had taken. at heart westray could not have said whether he was glad or sorry. he told himself that he was deeply in love with anastasia, and that this love was further ennobled by a chivalrous desire to shield her from evil; but he could not altogether forget that the unfortunate event had at least saved him from the unconventionality of marrying his landlady's niece. he told himself that his grief was sincere and profound, but it was possible that chagrin and wounded pride were after all his predominant feelings. there were other reflections which he thrust aside as indecorous at this acute stage of the tragedy, but which, nevertheless, were able to exercise a mildly consoling influence in the background. he would be spared the anxieties of early and impecunious marriage, his professional career would not be weighted by family cares, the whole world was once more open before him, and the slate clean. these were considerations which could not prudently be overlooked, though it would be unseemly to emphasise them too strongly when the poignancy of regret should dominate every other feeling. he wrote to sir george farquhar, and obtained ten days' leave of absence on the score of indisposition; and he wrote to miss euphemia joliffe to tell her that he intended to seek other rooms. from the first he had decided that this latter step was inevitable. he could not bear the daily renewal of regret, the daily opening of the wound that would be caused by the sight of anastasia, or by such chance intercourse with her as further residence at bellevue lodge must entail. there is no need to speculate whether his decision was influenced in part by a concession to humiliated pride; men do not take pleasure in revisiting the scenes of a disastrous rout, and it must be admitted that the possibility of summoning a lost love to his presence when he rang for boiling water, had in it something of the grotesque. he had no difficulty in finding other lodgings by correspondence, and he spared himself the necessity of returning at all to his former abode by writing to ask clerk janaway to move his belongings. one morning, a month later, miss joliffe sat in that room which had been occupied by the late mr sharnall. she was alone, for anastasia had gone to the office of the _cullerne advertiser_ with an announcement in which one a.j. intimated that she was willing to take a post as nursery-governess. it was a bright morning but cold, and miss joliffe drew an old white knitted shawl closer about her, for there was no fire in the grate. there was no fire because she could not afford it, yet the sun pouring in through the windows made the room warmer than the kitchen, where the embers had been allowed to die out since breakfast. she and anastasia did without fire on these bright autumn days to save coals; they ate a cold dinner, and went early to bed for the same reason, yet the stock in the cellar grew gradually less. miss joliffe had examined it that very morning, and found it terribly small; nor was there any money nor any credit left with which to replenish it. on the table before her was a pile of papers, some yellow, some pink, some white, some blue, but all neatly folded. they were folded lengthways and to the same breadth, for they were martin joliffe's bills, and he had been scrupulously neat and orderly in his habits. it is true that there were among them some few that she had herself contracted, but then she had always been careful to follow exactly her brother's method both of folding and also of docketing them on the exterior. yes, no doubt she was immediately responsible for some, and she knew just which they were from the outside without any need to open them. she took up one of them: "rose and storey, importers of french millinery, flowers, feathers, ribbons, etcetera. mantle and jacket show-rooms." alas, alas! how frail is human nature! even in the midst of her misfortunes, even in the eclipse of old age, such words stirred miss joliffe's interest--flowers, feathers, ribbons, mantles, and jackets; she saw the delightful show-room 19, 20, 21, and 22, market place, cullerne--saw it in the dignified solitude of a summer morning when a dress was to be tried on, saw it in the crush and glorious scramble of a remnant sale. "family and complimentary mourning, costumes, skirts, etcetera; foreign and british silks, guaranteed makes." after that the written entry seemed mere bathos: "material and trimming one bonnet, 11 shillings and 9 pence; one hat, 13 shillings 6 pence. total, 1 pound 5 shillings 3 pence." it really was not worth while making a fuss about, and the bunch of cherries and bit of spangled net were well worth the 1 shilling 9 pence, that anastasia's had cost more than hers. hole, pharmaceutical chemist: "drops, 1 shilling 6 pence; liniment, 1 shilling; mixture, 1 shilling 9 pence," repeated many times. "cod-liver oil, 1 shilling 3 pence, and 2 shillings 6 pence, and 1 shilling 3 pence again. 2 pounds 13 shillings 2 pence, with 4 shillings 8 pence interest," for the bill was four years old. that was for anastasia at a critical time when nothing seemed to suit her, and dr ennefer feared a decline; but all the medicine for poor martin was entered in dr ennefer's own account. pilkington, the shoemaker, had his tale to tell: "miss joliffe: semi-pold. lace boots, treble soles, 1 pound 1 shilling 0 pence. miss a. jol.: semi-pold. lace boots, treble soles, 1 pound 1 shilling 0 pence. 6 pair mohair laces, 9 pence. 3 ditto, silk, 1 shilling." yes, she was indeed a guilty woman. it was she that had "run up" _these_ accounts, and she grew red to think that her own hand should have helped to build so dismal a pile. debt, like every other habit that runs counter to the common good, brings with it its own punishment, because society protects itself by making unpleasant the ways of such as inconvenience their neighbours. it is true that some are born with a special talent and capacity for debt--they live on it, and live merrily withal, but most debtors feel the weight of their chains, and suffer greater pangs than those which they inflict on any defrauded creditor. if the millstone grinds slowly it grinds small, and undischarged accounts bring more pain than the goods to which they relate ever brought pleasure. among such bitternesses surely most bitter are the bills for things of which the fruition has ceased--for worn-out finery, for withered flowers, for drunk wine. pilkington's boots, were they never so treble soled, could not endure for ever, and miss joliffe's eyes followed unconsciously under the table to where a vertical fissure showed the lining white at the side of either boot. where were new boots to come from now, whence was to come clothing to wear, and bread to eat? nay, more, the day of passive endurance was past; action had begun. the cullerne water company threatened to cut off the water, the cullerne gas company threatened to cut off the gas. eaves, the milkman, threatened a summons unless that long, long bill of his (all built up of pitiful little pints) was paid forthwith. the thing had come to the _triarii_, miss joliffe's front was routed, the last rank was wavering. what was she to do, whither was she to turn? she must sell some of the furniture, but who would buy such old stuff? and if she sold furniture, what lodger would take half-empty rooms? she looked wildly round, she thrust her hands into the pile of papers, she turned them over with a feverish action, till she seemed to be turning hay once more as a little girl in the meadows at wydcombe. then she heard footsteps on the pavement outside, and thought for a moment that it was anastasia returned before she was expected, till a heavy tread told her that a man was coming, and she saw that it was mr joliffe, her cousin, churchwarden and pork-butcher. his bulky and unwieldy form moved levelly past the windows; he paused and looked up at the house as if to make sure that he was not mistaken, and then he slowly mounted the semicircular flight of stone steps and rang the bell. in person he was tall, but disproportionately stout for his height. his face was broad, and his loose double chin gave it a flabby appearance. a pallid complexion and black-grey hair, brushed straightly down where he was not bald, produced an impression of sanctimoniousness which was increased by a fawning manner of speech. mr sharnall was used to call him a hypocrite, but the aspersion was false, as such an aspersion commonly is. hypocrites, in the pure and undiluted sense, rarely exist outside the pages of fiction. except in the lower classes, where deceit thrives under the incentive of clerical patronage, men seldom assume deliberately the garb of religion to obtain temporal advantages or to further their own ends. it is probable that in nine cases out of ten, where practice does not accord sufficiently with profession to please the censorious, the discrepancy is due to inherent weakness of purpose, to the duality of our nature, and not to any conscious deception. if a man leading the lower life should find himself in religious, or high-minded, or pure society, and speak or behave as if he were religious, or high-minded, or pure, he does so in nine cases out of ten not with any definite wish to deceive, but because he is temporarily influenced by better company. for the time he believes what he says, or has persuaded himself that he believes it. if he is froward with the froward, so he is just with the just, and the more sympathetic and susceptible his nature, the more amenable is he to temporary influences. it is this chameleon adaptability that passes for hypocrisy. cousin joliffe was no hypocrite, he acted up to his light; and even if the light be a badly-trimmed, greasy, evil-smelling paraffin-lamp, the man who acts up to it is only the more to be pitied. cousin joliffe was one of those amateur ecclesiastics whose talk is of things religious, whom church questions interest, and who seem to have missed their vocation in not having taken orders. if canon parkyn had been a high churchman, cousin joliffe would have been high church; but the canon being low-church, cousin joliffe was an earnest evangelical, as he delighted to describe himself. he was rector's churchwarden, took a leading part in prayer-meetings, with a keen interest in school-treats, ham teas, and magic lanterns, and was particularly proud of having been asked more than once to assist in the mission room at carisbury, where the vicar of christ church carried on revival work among the somnolent surroundings of a great cathedral. he was without any sense of humour or any refinement of feeling--self-important, full of the dignity of his office, thrifty to meanness, but he acted up to his light, and was no hypocrite. in that petty middle-class, narrow-minded and penuriously pretentious, which was the main factor of cullerne life, he possessed considerable influence and authority. among his immediate surroundings a word from churchwarden joliffe carried more weight than an outsider would have imagined, and long usage had credited him with the delicate position of _censor morum_ to the community. did the wife of a parishioner venture into such a place of temptation as the theatre at carisbury, was she seen being sculled by young bulteel in his new skiff of a summer evening, the churchwarden was charged to interview her husband, to point out to him privately the scandal that was being caused, and to show him how his duty lay in keeping his belongings in better order. was a man trying to carry fire in his bosom by dalliance at the bar of the blandamer arms, then a hint was given to his spouse that she should use such influence as would ensure evenings being spent at home. did a young man waste the sabbath afternoon in walking with his dog on cullerne flat, he would receive "the tishbite's warning, a discourse showing the necessity of a proper observance of the lord's day." did a pig-tailed hoyden giggle at the grammar school boys from her pew in the minster, the impropriety was reported by the churchwarden to her mother. on such occasions he was scrupulous in assuming a frock-coat and a silk hat. both were well-worn, and designed in the fashion of another day; but they were in his eyes insignia of office, and as he felt the tails of the coat about his knees they seemed to him as it were the skirts of aaron's garment. miss joliffe was not slow to notice that he was thus equipped this morning; she knew that he had come to pay her a visit of circumstance, and swept her papers hurriedly into a drawer. she felt as if they were guilty things these bills, as if she had been engaged in a guilty action in even "going through" them, as if she had been detected in doing that which she should not do, and guiltiest of all seemed the very hurry of concealment with which she hid such compromising papers. she tried to perform that feat of mental gymnastics called retaining one's composure, the desperate and forced composure which the coiner assumes when opening the door to the police, the composure which a woman assumes in returning to her husband with the kisses of a lover tingling on her lips. it _is_ a feat to change the current of the mind, to let the burning thought that is dearest or bitterest to us go by the board, to answer coherently to the banalities of conversation, to check the throbbing pulse. the feat was beyond miss joliffe's powers; she was but a poor actress, and the churchwarden saw that she was ill at ease as she opened the door. "good-morning, cousin," he said with one of those interrogative glances which are often more irritating and more difficult to parry than a direct question; "you are not looking at all the thing this morning. i hope you are not feeling unwell; i hope i do not intrude." "oh no," she said, making as good an attempt at continuous speech as the quick beating of her heart allowed; "it is only that your visit is a little surprise. i am a little flurried; i am not quite so young as i was." "ay," he said, as she showed him into mr sharnall's room, "we are all of us growing older; it behoves us to walk circumspectly, for we never know when we may be taken." he looked at her so closely and compassionately that she felt very old indeed; it really seemed as if she ought to be "taken" at once, as if she was neglecting her duty in not dying away incontinently. she drew the knitted shawl more tightly round her spare and shivering body. "i am afraid you will find this room a little cold," she said; "we are having the kitchen chimney cleaned, so i was sitting here." she gave a hurried glance at the bureau, feeling a suspicion that she might not have shut the drawer tight, or that one of the bills might have somehow got left out. no, all was safe, but her excuse had not deceived the churchwarden. "phemie," he said, not unkindly, though the word brought tears to her eyes, for it was the first time that anyone had called her by the old childhood name since the night that martin died--"phemie, you should not stint yourself in fires. it is a false economy; you must let me send you a coal ticket." "oh no, thank you very much; we have plenty," she cried, speaking quickly, for she would rather have starved outright, than that it should be said a member of the dorcas society had taken a parish coal ticket. he urged her no more, but took the chair that she offered him, feeling a little uncomfortable withal, as a well-clothed and overfed man should, in the presence of penury. it was true he had not been to see her for some time; but, then, bellevue lodge was so far off, and he had been so pressed with the cares of the parish and of his business. besides that, their walks of life were so different, and there was naturally a strong objection to any kinswoman of his keeping a lodging-house. he felt sorry now that compassion had betrayed him into calling her "cousin" and "phemie"; she certainly _was_ a distant kinswoman, but _not_, he repeated to himself, a cousin; he hoped she had not noticed his familiarity. he wiped his face with a pocket-handkerchief that had seen some service, and gave an introductory cough. "there is a little matter on which i should like to have a few words with you," he said, and miss joliffe's heart was in her mouth; he _had_ heard, then, of these terrible debts and of the threatened summons. "forgive me if i go direct to business. i am a business man and a plain man, and like plain speaking." it is wonderful to what rude remarks, and unkind remarks and untrue remarks such words as these commonly form the prelude, and how very few of these plain speakers enjoy being plainly spoken to in turn. "we were talking just now," he went on, "of the duty of walking circumspectly, but it is our duty, miss joliffe, to see that those over whom we are set in authority walk circumspectly as well. i mean no reproach to you, but others beside me think it would be well that you should keep closer watch over your niece. there is a nobleman of high station that visits much too often at this house. i will _not_ name any names"--and this with a tone of magnanimous forbearance--"but you will guess who i mean, because the nobility is not that frequent hereabout. i am sorry to have to speak of such things which ladies generally see quick enough for themselves, but as churchwarden i can't shut my ears to what is matter of town talk; and more by token when a namesake of my own is concerned." the composure which miss joliffe had been seeking in vain, came back to her at the pork-butcher's words, partly in the relief that he had not broached the subject of debts which had been foremost in her mind, partly in the surprise and indignation occasioned by his talk of anastasia. her manner and very appearance changed, and none would have recognised the dispirited and broken-down old lady in the sharpness of her rejoinder. "mr joliffe," she apostrophised with tart dignity, "you must forgive me for thinking that i know a good deal more about the nobleman in question than you do, and i can assure you _he_ is a perfect gentleman. if he has visited this house, it has been to see mr westray about the restoration of the minster. i should have thought one that was churchwarden would have known better than to go bandying scandals about his betters; it is small encouragement for a nobleman to take an interest in the church if the churchwarden is to backbite him for it." she saw that her cousin was a little taken aback, and she carried the war into the enemy's country, and gave another thrust. "not but what lord blandamer has called upon me too, apart from mr westray. and what have you to say to _that_? if his lordship has thought fit to honour me by drinking a cup of tea under my roof, there are many in cullerne would have been glad to get out their best china if he had only asked himself to _their_ houses. and there are some might well follow his example, and show themselves a little oftener to their friends and relations." the churchwarden wiped his face again, and puffed a little. "far be it from me," he said, dwelling on the expression with all the pleasure that a man of slight education takes in a book phrase that he has got by heart--"far be it from me to set scandals afloat--'twas _you_ that used the word scandal--but i have daughters of my own to consider. i have nothing to say against anastasia, who, i believe, is a good girl enough"--and his patronising manner grated terribly on miss joliffe--"though i wish i could see her take more interest in the sunday-school, but i won't hide from you that she has a way of carrying herself and mincing her words which does _not_ befit her station. it makes people take notice, and 'twould be more becoming she should drop it, seeing she will have to earn her own living in service. i don't want to say anything against lord blandamer either--he seems to be well-intentioned to the church--but if tales are true the _old_ lord was no better than he should be, and things have happened before now on your side of the family, miss joliffe, that make connections feel uncomfortable about anastasia. we are told that the sins of the fathers will be visited to the third and fourth generation." "well," miss joliffe said, and made a formidable pause on this adverb, "if it is the manners of your side of the family to come and insult people in their own houses, i am glad i belong to the other side." she was alive to the profound gravity of such a sentiment, yet was prepared to take her stand upon it, and awaited another charge from the churchwarden with a dignity and confidence that would have become the old guard. but no fierce passage of arms followed; there was a pause, and if a dignified ending were desired the interview should here have ended. but to ordinary mortals the sound of their own voices is so musical as to deaden any sense of anticlimax; talking is continued for talking's sake, and heroics tail off into desultory conversation. both sides were conscious that they had overstated their sentiments, and were content to leave main issues undecided. miss joliffe did not take the bills out of their drawer again after the churchwarden had left her. the current of her ideas had been changed, and for the moment she had no thought for anything except the innuendoes of her visitor. she rehearsed to herself without difficulty the occasions of lord blandamer's visits, and although she was fully persuaded that any suspicions as to his motives were altogether without foundation, she was forced to admit that he _had_ been at bellevue lodge more than once when she had been absent. this was no doubt a pure coincidence, but we were enjoined to be wise as serpents as well as innocent as doves, and she would take care that no further occasion was given for idle talk. anastasia on her return found her aunt unusually reserved and taciturn. miss joliffe had determined to behave exactly as usual to anastasia because her niece was entirely free from fault; but she was vexed at what the churchwarden had said, and her manner was so mysterious and coldly dignified as to convince anastasia that some cause for serious annoyance had occurred. did anastasia remark that it was a close morning, her aunt looked frowningly abstracted and gave no reply; did anastasia declare that she had not been able to get any 14 knitting-needles, they were quite out of them, her aunt said, "oh!" in a tone of rebuke and resignation which implied that there were far more serious matters in the world than knitting-needles. this dispensation lasted a full half-hour, but beyond that the kindly old heart was quite unequal to supporting a proper hauteur. the sweet warmth of her nature thawed the chilly exterior; she was ashamed of her moodiness, and tried to "make up" for it to anastasia by manifestation of special affection. but she evaded her niece's attempts at probing the matter, and was resolved that the girl should know nothing of cousin joliffe's suggestions or even of the fact of his visit. but if anastasia knew nothing of these things, she was like to be singular in her ignorance. all cullerne knew; it was in the air. the churchwarden had taken a few of the elders into his confidence, and asked their advice as to the propriety of his visit of remonstrance. the elders, male and female, heartily approved of his action, and had in their turn taken into confidence a few of their intimate and specially-to-be-trusted friends. then ill-natured and tale-bearing miss sharp told lying and mischief-making mrs flint, and lying and mischief-making mrs flint talked the matter over at great length with the rector, who loved all kinds of gossip, especially of the highly-spiced order. it was speedily matter of common knowledge that lord blandamer was at the hand of god (so ridiculous of a lodging-house keeper christening a public-house bellevue lodge!) at _all_ hours of the day _and_ night, and that miss joliffe was content to look at the ceiling on such occasions; and worse, to go to meetings so as to leave the field undisturbed (what intolerable hypocrisy making an excuse of the dorcas meetings!); that lord blandamer loaded--simply loaded--that pert and good-for-nothing girl with presents; that even the young architect was forced to change his lodgings by such disreputable goings-on. people wondered how miss joliffe and her niece had the effrontery to show themselves at church on sundays; the younger creature, at least, must have _some_ sense of shame left, for she never ventured to exhibit in _public_ either the fine dresses or the jewellery that her lover gave her. such stories came to westray's ears, and stirred in him the modicum of chivalry which leavens the lump of most men's being. he was still smarting under his repulse, but he would have felt himself disgraced if he had allowed the scandal to pass unchallenged, and he rebutted it with such ardour that people shrugged their shoulders, and hinted that there had been something between _him_, too, and anastasia. clerk janaway was inclined to take a distressingly opportunist and matter-of-fact view of the question. he neither reprobated nor defended. in his mind the divine right of peers was firmly established. so long as they were rich and spent their money freely, we should not be too particular. they were to be judged by standards other than those of common men; for his part, he was glad they had got in place of an old curmudgeon a man who would take an interest in the church, and spend money on the place and the people. if he took a fancy to a pretty face, where was the harm? 'twas nothing to the likes of them, best let well alone; and then he would cut short the churchwarden's wailings and godly lamentations by "decanting" on the glories of fording, and the boon it was to the countryside to have the place kept up once more. "clerk janaway, your sentiments do you no credit," said the pork-butcher on one such occasion, for he was given to gossip with the sexton on terms of condescending equality. "i have seen fording myself, having driven there with the carisbury field club, and felt sure it must be a source of temptation if not guarded against. that one man should live in such a house is an impiety; he is led to go about like nebuchadnezzar, saying: `is not this great babylon that i have builded?'" "_he_ never builded it," said the clerk with some inconsequence; "'twere builded centuries ago. i've heard 'tis that old no one don't know _who_ builded it. your parents was dissenters, mr joliffe, and never taught you the catechism when you was young; but as for me, i order myself to my betters as i should, so long as they orders themselves to me. 'taint no use to say as how we're all level; you've only got to go to mothers' meetings, my old missus says, to see that. 'tis no use looking for too much, nor eating salt with red herrings." "well, well," the other deprecated, "i'm not blaming his lordship so much as them that lead him on." "don't go for to blame the girl, neither, too hardly; there's faults on both sides. his grandfather didn't always toe the line, and there were some on her side didn't set too good an example, neither. i've seen many a queer thing in my time, and have got to think blood's blood, and forerunners more to blame than children. if there's drink in fathers, there'll be drink in sons and grandsons till 'tis worked out; and if there's wild love in the mothers, daughters 'll likely sell their apples too. no, no, god-amighty never made us equal, and don't expect us all to be churchwardens. some on us comes of virtuous forerunners, and are born with wings at the back of our shoulders like you"--and he gave a whimsical look at his listener's heavy figure--"to lift us up to the vaulting; and some on us our fathers fits out with lead soles to the bottom of our boots to keep us on the floor." saturday afternoon was lord blandamer's hour, and for three saturdays running miss joliffe deserted the dorcas meeting in order to keep guard at home. it rejoiced the moral hearts of ill-natured and tale-bearing miss sharp and of lying and mischief-making mrs flint that the disreputable old woman had at least the decency not to show herself among her betters, but such defection was a sore trial to miss joliffe. she told herself on each occasion that she _could_ not make such a sacrifice again, and yet the love of anastasia constrained her. to her niece she offered the patent excuse of being unwell, but the girl watched her with wonder and dismay chafe feverishly through the two hours, which had been immemorially consecrated to these meetings. the recurrence of a weekly pleasure, which seems so limitless in youth and middle age, becomes less inexhaustible as life turns towards sunset. thirty takes lightly enough the foregoing of a saturday reunion, the uncongenial spending of a sunday; but seventy can see the end of the series, and grudges every unit of the total that remains. for three saturdays miss joliffe watched, and for three saturdays no suspicious visitor appeared. "we have seen nothing of lord blandamer lately," she would remark at frequent intervals with as much indifference as the subject would allow. "there is nothing to bring him here now that mr westray has gone. why should he come?" why, indeed, and what difference would it make to her if he never came again? these were questions that anastasia had discussed with herself, at every hour of every day of those blank three weeks. she had ample time for such foolish discussions, for such vain imaginings, for she was left much to herself, having no mind-companions either of her own age or of any other. she was one of those unfortunate persons whose education and instincts' unfit them for their position. the diversions of youth had been denied her, the pleasures of dress or company had never been within her reach. for pastime she was turned back continually to her own thoughts, and an active imagination and much desultory reading had educated her in a school of romance, which found no counterpart in the life of cullerne. she was proud at heart (and it is curious that those are often the proudest who in their neighbours' estimation have least cause for pride), but not conceited in manner in spite of mr joliffe's animadversion on the mincing of her words. yet it was not her pride that had kept her from making friends, but merely the incompatibility of mental temperament, which builds the barrier not so much between education and ignorance, as between refinement and materialism, between romance and commonplace. that barrier is so insurmountable that any attempt upon it must end in failure that is often pathetic from its very hopelessness; even the warmth of ardent affection has never yet succeeded in evolving a mental companionship from such discordant material. by kindly dispensation of nature the breadth of the gulf, indeed, is hidden from those who cannot cross it. they know it is there, they have some inkling of the difference of view, but they think that love may build a bridge across, or that in time they may find some other access to the further side. sometimes they fancy that they are nearer to the goal, that they walk step and step with those they love; but this, alas! is not to be, because the mental sympathy, the touch of illumination that welds minds together, is wanting. it was so with miss joliffe the elder--she longed to be near her niece, and was so very far away; she thought that they went hand in hand, when all the while a different mental outlook set them poles asunder. with all her thousand good honest qualities, she was absolutely alien to the girl; and anastasia felt as if she was living among people of another nation, among people who did not understand her language, and she took refuge in silence. the dulness of cullerne had grown more oppressive to her in the last year. she longed for a life something wider, she longed for sympathy. she longed for what a tall and well-favoured maiden of her years most naturally desires, however much she may be ignorant of her desire; she longed for someone to admire her and to love her; she longed for someone about whom she could weave a romance. the junior partner in rose and storey perhaps discerned her need, and tried to supply it. he paid her such odious compliments on the "hang of her things," that she would never have entered the shop again, were it not that bellevue lodge was bound hand and foot to rose and storey, for they were undertakers as well as milliners; and, besides, the little affair of the bonnets, the expenses of martin's funeral, were still unsatisfied. there was a young dairy farmer, with a face like a red harvest moon, who stopped at her aunt's door on his way to market. he would sell miss joliffe eggs and butter at wholesale prices, and grinned in a most tiresome way whenever he caught sight of anastasia. the rector patronised her insufferably; and though old mr noot was kind, he treated her like a small child, and sometimes patted her cheek, which she felt to be disconcerting at eighteen. and then the prince of romance appeared in lord blandamer. the moment that she first saw him on the doorstep that windy autumn afternoon, when yellow leaves were flying, she recognised him for a prince. the moment that he spoke to her she knew that he recognised her for a lady, and for this she felt unspeakably glad and grateful. since then the wonder had grown. it grew all the faster from the hero's restraint. he had seen anastasia but little, he spoke but little to her, he never gave her even a glance of interest, still less such glances as westray launched at her so lavishly. and yet the wonder grew. he was so different from other men she had seen, so different from all the other people she had ever met. she could not have told how she knew this, and yet she knew. it must have been an atmosphere which followed him wherever he went--that penumbra with which the gods wrap heroes--which told her he was different. the gambits of the great game of love are strangely limited, and there is little variation in the after-play. if it were not for the personal share we take, such doings would lack interest by reason of their monotony, by their too close resemblance to the primeval type. this is why the game seems dull enough to onlookers; they shock us with the callousness with which they are apt to regard our ecstasies. this is why the straightforward game palls sometimes on the players themselves after a while; and why they are led to take refuge from dulness in solving problems, in the tangled irregularities of the knight's move. anastasia would have smiled if she had been told that she had fallen in love; it might have been a thin smile, pale as winter's sunshine, but she would have smiled. it was _impossible_ for her to fall in love, because she knew that kings no longer marry beggar-maids, and she was far too well brought up to fall in love, except as a preliminary to marriage. no heroine of miss austen would permit herself even to feel attraction to a quarter from which no offer of marriage was possible; therefore anastasia could not have fallen in love. she certainly was not in the least in love, but it was true lord blandamer interested her. he interested her so much, in fact, as to be in her thoughts at all hours of the day; it was strange that no matter with what things her mind was occupied, his image should continually present itself. she wondered why this was; perhaps it was his power--she thought it was the feeling of his power, a very insolence of power that dominated all these little folk, and yet was most powerful in its restraint. she liked to think of the compact, close-knit body, of the curling, crisp, iron-grey hair, of the grey eyes, and of the hard, clear-cut face. yes, she liked the face because it _was_ hard, because it had a resolute look in it that said he meant to go whither he wished to go. there was no doubt she must have taken considerable interest in him, for she found herself dreading to pronounce his name even in the most ordinary conversation, because she felt it difficult to keep her voice at the dead level of indifference. she dreaded when others spoke of him, and yet there was no other subject that occupied her so much. and sometimes when they talked of him she had a curious feeling of jealousy, a feeling that no one had a right even to talk of him except herself; and she would smile to herself with a little scornful smile, because she thought that she knew more about him, could understand him better than them all. it was fortunate, perhaps, that the arbitrament of cullerne conversation did not rest with anastasia, or there would have been but little talking at this time; for if it seemed preposterous that others should dare to discuss lord blandamer, it seemed equally preposterous that they should take an interest in discussing anything else. she certainly was _not_ in love; it was only the natural interest, she told herself, that anyone--anyone with education and refinement--must take in a strange and powerful character. every detail about him interested her. there was a fascination in his voice, there was a melody in his low, clear voice that charmed, and made even trifling remarks seem important. did he but say it was a rainy afternoon, did he but ask if mr westray were at home, there was such mystery in his tone that no rabbinical cabalist ever read more between the lines than did miss anastasia joliffe. even in her devotions thought wandered far from the pew where she and her aunt sat in cullerne church; she found her eyes looking for the sea-green and silver, for the nebuly coat in abbot vinnicomb's window; and from the clear light yellow of the aureole round john baptist's head, fancy called up a whirl of faded lemon-coloured acacia leaves, that were in the air that day the hero first appeared. yet, if heart wavered, head stood firm. he should never know her interest in him; no word, no changing colour should ever betray her; he should never guess that agitation sometimes scarcely left her breath to make so short a rejoinder as "good-night." for three saturdays, then, miss joliffe the elder sat on guard at bellevue lodge; for three saturday afternoons in succession, she sat and chafed as the hours of the dorcas meeting came and went. but nothing happened; the heavens remained in their accustomed place, the minster tower stood firm, and then she knew that the churchwarden had been duped, that her own judgment had been right, that lord blandamer's only motive for coming to her house had been to see mr westray, and that now mr westray was gone lord blandamer would come no more. the fourth saturday arrived; miss joliffe was brighter than her niece had seen her for a calendar month. "i feel a good deal better, my dear, this afternoon," she said; "i think i shall be able to go to the dorcas meeting. the room gets so close that i have avoided going of late, but i think i shall not feel it too much to-day. i will just change, and put on my bonnet; you will not mind staying at home while i am away, will you?" and so she went. anastasia sat in the window-seat of the lower room. the sash was open, for the spring days were lengthening, and a soft, sweet air was moving about sundown. she told herself that she was making a bodice; an open workbox stood beside her, and there was spread around just such a medley of patterns, linings, scissors, cotton-reels, and buttons as is required for the proper and ceremonious carrying on of "work." but she was not working. the bodice itself, the very cause and spring of all these preparations, lay on her lap, and there, too, had fallen her hands. she half sat, half lay back on the window-seat, roaming in fancy far away, while she drank in the breath of the spring, and watched a little patch of transparent yellow sky between the houses grow pinker and more golden, as the sunset went on. then a man came down the street and mounted the steps in front of bellevue lodge; but she did not see him, because he was walking in from the country, and so did not pass her window. it was the door-bell that first broke her dreams. she slid down from her perch, and hastened to let her aunt in, for she had no doubt that it was miss joliffe who had come back from the meeting. the opening of the front-door was not a thing to be hurried through, for though there was little indeed in bellevue lodge to attract burglars, and though if burglars came they would surely select some approach other than the main entrance, yet miss joliffe insisted that when she was from home the door should be secured as if to stand a siege. so anastasia drew the top bolt, and slipped the chain, and unlocked the lock. there was a little difficulty with the bottom bolt, and she had to cry out: "i am sorry for keeping you waiting; this fastening _will_ stick." but it gave at last; she swung the heavy door back, and found herself face to face with lord blandamer. chapter eighteen. they stood face to face, and looked at one another for a second. anyone seeing those two figures silhouetted against the yellow sunset sky might have taken them for cousins, or even for brother and sister. they were both dressed in black, were both dark, and of nearly the same height, for though the man was not short, the girl was very tall. the pause that anastasia made was due to surprise. a little while ago it would have been a natural thing enough to open the door and find lord blandamer, but the month that had elapsed since last he came to bellevue lodge had changed the position. it seemed to her that she stood before him confessed, that he must know that all these weeks she had been thinking of him, had been wondering why he did not come, had been longing for him to come, that he must know the pleasure which filled her now because he was come back again. and if he knew all this, she, too, had learnt to know something, had learnt to know how great a portion of her thoughts he filled. this eating of the tree of knowledge had abashed her, for now her soul stood before her naked. did it so stand naked before him too? she was shocked that she should feel this attraction where there could be no thought of marriage; she thought that she should die if he should ever guess that one so lowly had gazed upon the sun and been dazzled. the pause that lord blandamer made was not due to surprise, for he knew quite well that it would be anastasia who opened the door. it was rather that pause which a man makes who has undertaken a difficult business, and hesitates for a moment when it comes to the touch. she cast her eyes down to the ground; he looked full at her, looked at her from head to foot, and knew that his resolution was strong enough to carry to a conclusion the affair on which he had come. she spoke first. "i am sorry my aunt is not at home," and kept her right hand on the edge of the open door, feeling grateful for any support. as the words came out she was relieved to find that it was indeed she herself who was speaking, that it was her own voice, and that her voice sounded much as usual. "i am sorry she is not in," he said, and he, too, spoke after all in just those same low, clear tones to which she was accustomed--"i am sorry she is not in, but it was _you_ that i came to see." she said nothing; her heart beat so fast that she could not have spoken even in monosyllables. she did not move, but kept her hand still on the edge of the door, feeling afraid lest she should fall if she let it go. "i have something i should like to say to you; may i come in?" she hesitated for a moment, as he knew that she would hesitate, and then let him in, as he knew that she would let him in. he shut the heavy front-door behind them, and there was no talk now of turning locks or shooting bolts; the house was left at the mercy of any burglars who might happen to be thereabout. anastasia led the way. she did not take him into mr sharnall's old room, partly because she had left half-finished clothes lying there, and partly from the more romantic reflection that it was in westray's room that they had met before. they walked through the hall and up the stairs, she going first and he following, and she was glad of the temporary respite which the long flights secured her. they entered the room, and again he shut the door behind them. there was no fire, and the window was open, but she felt as if she were in a fiery furnace. he saw her distress, but made as if he saw nothing, and pitied her for the agitation which he caused. for the past six months anastasia had concealed her feelings so very well that he had read them like a book. he had watched the development of the plot without pride, or pleasure of success, without sardonic amusement, without remorse; with some dislike for a role which force of circumstances imposed on him, but with an unwavering resolve to walk the way which he had set before him. he knew the exact point which the action of the play had reached, he knew that anastasia would grant whatever he asked of her. they were standing face to face again. to the girl it all seemed a dream; she did not know whether she was waking or sleeping; she did not know whether she was in the body or out of the body. it was all a dream, but it was a delightful dream; there was no bitterness of reflection now, no anxiety, no regard for past or future, only utter absorption in the present moment. she was with the man who had possessed her thoughts for a month past; he had come back to her. she had not to consider whether she should ever see him again; he was with her now. she had not to think whether he was there for good or evil, she had lost all volition in the will of the man who stood before her; she was the slave of his ring, rejoicing in her slavery, and ready to do his bidding as all the other slaves of that ring. he was sorry for the feelings which he had aroused, sorry for the affection he had stirred, sorry for the very love of himself that he saw written in her face. he took her hand in his, and his touch filled her with an exquisite content; her hand lay in his neither lifelessly nor entirely passively, yet only lightly returning the light pressure of his fingers. to her the situation was the supreme moment of a life; to him it was passionless as the betrothal piece in a flemish window. "anastasia," he said, "you guess what it is i have to tell you; you guess what it is that i have to ask you." she heard him speaking, and his voice was as delightful music in her delightful dream; she knew that he was going to ask something of her, and she knew that she would give him anything and all that he asked. "i know that you love me," he went on, with an inversion of the due order of the proposition, and an assumption that would have been intolerable in anyone else, "and you know that i love you dearly." it was a proper compliment to her perspicuity that she should know already that he loved her, but his mind smiled as he thought how insufficient sometimes are the bases of knowledge. "i love you dearly, and am come to ask you to be my wife." she heard what he said, and understood it; she had been prepared for his asking anything save this one thing that he had asked. the surprise of it overwhelmed her, the joy of it stunned her; she could neither speak nor move. he saw that she was powerless and speechless, and drew her closer to him. there was none of the impetuous eagerness of a lover in the action; he drew her gently towards him because it seemed appropriate to the occasion that he should do so. she lay for a minute in his arms, her head bent down, and her face hidden, while he looked not so much at her as above her. his eyes wandered over the mass of her dark-brown wavy hair that mrs flint said was not wavy by nature, but crimped to make her look like a blandamer, and so bolster up her father's nonsensical pretensions. his eyes took full account of that wave and the silken fineness of her dark-brown hair, and then looked vaguely out beyond till they fell on the great flower-picture that hung on the opposite wall. the painting had devolved upon westray on mr sharnall's death, but he had not yet removed it, and lord blandamer's eyes rested on it now so fixedly, that he seemed to be thinking more of the trashy flowers and of the wriggling caterpillar, than of the girl in his arms. his mind came back to the exigencies of the situation. "will you marry me, anastasia--will you marry me, dear anstice?" the home name seemed to add a touch of endearment, and he used it advisedly. "anstice, will you let me make you my wife?" she said nothing, but threw her arms about his neck, and raised her face a little for the first time. it was an assent that would have contented any man, and to lord blandamer it came as a matter of course; he had never for a moment doubted her acceptance of his offer. if she had raised her face to be kissed, her expectation was gratified; he kissed her indeed, but only lightly on the brow, as actor may kiss actress on the stage. if anyone had been there to see, they would have known from his eyes that his thoughts were far from his body, that they were busied with somebody or something, that seemed to him of more importance than the particular action in which he was now engaged. but anastasia saw nothing; she only knew that he had asked her to marry him, and that she was in his arms. he waited a moment, as if wondering how long the present position would continue, and what was the next step to take; but the girl was the first to relieve the tension. the wildest intoxication of the first surprise was passing off, and with returning capacity for reflection a doubt had arisen that flung a shadow like a cloud upon her joy. she disengaged herself from his arms that strove in orthodox manner to retain her. "don't," she said--"don't. we have been too rash. i know what you have asked me. i shall remember it always, and love you for it to my dying day, but it cannot be. there are things you must know before you ask me. i do not think you would ask me if you knew all." for the first time he seemed a little more in earnest, a little more like a man living life, a little less like a man rehearsing a part that he had got by heart. this was an unexpected piece of action, an episode that was not in his acting edition, that put him for the moment at a loss; though he knew it could not in any way affect the main issues of the play. he expostulated, he tried to take her hand again. "tell me what it is, child, that is troubling you," he said; "there can be nothing, nothing under heaven that could make me wish to unsay what i have said, nothing that could make us wish to undo what we have done. nothing can rob me now of the knowledge that you love me. tell me what it is." "i cannot tell you," she answered him. "it is something i cannot tell; don't ask me. i will write it. leave me now--please leave me; no one shall know that you have been here, no one must know what has passed between us." miss joliffe came back from the dorcas meeting a little downhearted and out of humour. things had not gone so smoothly as usual. no one had inquired after her health, though she had missed three meetings in succession; people had received her little compliments and cheery small-talk with the driest of negatives or affirmatives; she had an uncomfortable feeling that she was being cold-shouldered. that high moralist, mrs flint, edged her chair away from the poor lady of set purpose, and miss joliffe found herself at last left isolated from all, except mrs purlin, the builder's wife, who was far too fat and lethargic to be anything but ignorantly good-natured. then, in a fit of pained abstraction, miss joliffe had made such a bad calculation as entirely to spoil a flannel petticoat with a rheumatic belt and camphor pockets, which she had looked upon as something of a _chef d'oeuvre_. but when she got back to bellevue lodge her vexation vanished, and was entirely absorbed in solicitude for her niece. anstice was unwell, anstice was quite ill, quite flushed, and complaining of headache. if miss joliffe had feigned indisposition for three saturdays as an excuse for not leaving the house, anastasia had little need for simulation on this the fourth saturday. she was, in effect, so dazed by the event which had happened, and so preoccupied by her own thoughts, that she could scarcely return coherent replies to her aunt's questions. miss joliffe had rung and received no answer, had discovered that the front-door was unlocked, and had at last found anastasia sitting forlorn in mr westray's room with the window open. a chill was indicated, and miss joliffe put her to bed at once. bed is a first aid that even ambulance classes have not entirely taught us to dispense with; it is, moreover, a poor man's remedy, being exceedingly cheap, if, indeed, the poor man is rich enough to have a bed at all. had anastasia been miss bulteel, or even mrs parkyn, or lying and mischief-making mrs flint, dr ennefer would have been summoned forthwith; but being only anastasia, and having the vision of debt before her eyes, she prevailed on her aunt to wait to see what the night brought forth, before sending for the doctor. meanwhile dr bed, infinitely cleverest and infinitely safest of physicians, was called in, and with him was associated that excellent general practitioner dr wait. hot flannels, hot bottles, hot possets, and a bedroom fire were exhibited, and when at nine o'clock miss joliffe kissed her niece and retired for the night, she by no means despaired of the patient's speedy recovery from so sudden and unaccountable an attack. anastasia was alone; what a relief to be alone again, though she felt that such a thought was treasonable and unkind to the warm old heart that had just left her, to that warm old heart which yearned so deeply to her, but with which she had not shared her story! she was alone, and she lay a little while in quiet content looking at the fire through the iron bars at the foot of her bedstead. it was the first bedroom fire she had had for two years, and she enjoyed the luxury with a pleasure proportionate to its rarity. she was not sleepy, but grew gradually more composed, and was able to reflect on the letter which she had promised to write. it would be difficult, and she assured herself with much vigour that it must raise insurmountable obstacles, that they were obstacles which one in lord blandamer's position must admit to be quite insurmountable. yes, in this letter she would write the colophon of so wondrous a romance, the epilogue of so amazing a tragedy. but it was her conscience that demanded the sacrifice, and she took the more pleasure in making it, because she felt at heart that the pound of flesh might never really after all be cut. how thoroughly do we enjoy these sacrifices to conscience, these followings of honour's code severe, when we know that none will be mean enough to take us at our word! to what easily-gained heights of morality does it raise us to protest that we never could accept the gift that will eventually be forced into our reluctant hands, to insist that we regard as the shortest of loans the money which we never shall be called upon to repay. it was something of the same sort with anastasia. she told herself that by her letter she would give the death-blow to her love, and perhaps believed what she told, yet all the while kept hope hidden at the bottom of the box, even as in the most real perils of a dream we sometimes are supported by the sub-waking sense that we _are_ dreaming. a little later anastasia was sitting before her bedroom fire writing. it has a magic of its own--the bedroom fire. not such a one as night by night warms hothouse bedrooms of the rich, but that which burns but once or twice a year. how the coals glow between the bars, how the red light shimmers on the black-lead bricks, how the posset steams upon the hob! milk or tea, cocoa or coffee, poor commonplace liquids, are they not transmuted in the alembic of a bedroom fire, till they become nepenthe for a heartache or a philtre for romance? ah, the romance of it, when youth forestalls to-morrow's conquest, when middle life forgets that yesterday is past for ever, when even querulous old age thinks it may still have its "honour and its toil"! an old blue cloak, which served the turn of dressing-gown, had fallen apart in the exigencies of composition, and showed underlying tracts of white nightgown. below, the firelight fell on bare feet resting on the edge of the brass fender till the heat made her curl up her toes, and above, the firelight contoured certain generous curves. the roundness and the bloom of maidenhood was upon her, that bloom so transient, so irreplaceable, that renders any attempt to simulate it so profoundly ludicrous. the mass of dark hair, which turned lying-and-mischief-making mrs flint so envious, was gathered behind with a bow of black ribbon, and hung loosely over the back of her chair. she sat there writing and rewriting, erasing, blotting, tearing up, till the night was far spent, till she feared that the modest resources of the _papeterie_ would be exhausted before toil came to fruition. it was finished at last, and if it was a little formal or high-flown, or stilted, is not a certain formality postulated on momentous occasions? who would write that he was "delighted" to accept a bishopric? who would go to a levee in a straw hat? "dear lord blandamer" (the letter ran), "i do not know how i ought to write to you, for i have little experience of life to guide me. i thank you with all my heart for what you have told me. i am glad to think of it, and i always shall be. i believe there must be many strong reasons why you should not think of marrying me, yet if there are, you must know them far better than i, and you have disregarded them. but there is one reason that you cannot know, for it is known to very few; i hope it is known only to some of our own relations. perhaps i ought not to write of it at all, but i have no one to advise me. i mean what is right, and if i am doing wrong you will forgive me, will you not? and burn this letter when you have read it. "i have no right to the name i am called by; my cousins in the market place think we should use some other, but we do not even know what our real name would be. when my grandmother married old mr joliffe, she had already a son two or three years old. this son was my father, and mr joliffe adopted him; but my grandmother had no right to any but her maiden name. we never knew what that was, though my father tried all his life to find it out, and thought he was very near finding out when he fell into his last illness. we think his head must have been affected, for he used to say strange things about his parentage. perhaps the thought of this disgrace troubled him, as it has often troubled me, though i never thought it would trouble me so much as now. "i have not told my aunt about what you have said to me, and no one else shall ever know it, but it will be the sweetest memory to me of all my life. "your very sincere friend, "anastasia joliffe." it was finished at last; she had slain all her hopes, she had slain her love. he would never marry her, he would never come near her again; but she had unburdened herself of her secret, and she could not have married him with that secret untold. it was three o'clock when she crept back again to bed. the fire had gone out, she was very cold, and she was glad to get back to her bed. then nature came to her aid and sent her kindly sleep, and if her sleep was not dreamless, she dreamt of dresses, and horses, and carriages, of men-servants, and maid-servants, of lady blandamer's great house of fording, and of lady blandamer's husband. lord blandamer also sat up very late that night. as he read before another bedroom fire he turned the pages of his book with the utmost regularity; his cigar never once went out. there was nothing to show that his thoughts wandered, nothing to show that his mind was in any way preoccupied. he was reading eugenid's "aristeia" of the pagans martyred under honorius; and weighed the pros and cons of the argument as dispassionately as if the events of the afternoon had never taken place, as if there had been no such person as anastasia joliffe in the world. anastasia's letter reached him the next day at lunch, but he finished his meal before opening it. yet he must have known whence it came, for there was a bold "bellevue lodge" embossed in red on the flap of the envelope. martin joliffe had ordered stamped paper and envelopes years ago, because he said that people of whom he made genealogical inquiries paid more attention to stamped than to plain paper--it was a credential of respectability. in cullerne this had been looked upon as a gross instance of his extravagance; mrs bulteel and canon parkyn alone could use headed paper with propriety, and even the rectory only printed, and did not emboss. martin had exhausted his supply years ago, and never ordered a second batch, because the first was still unpaid for; but anastasia kept by her half a dozen of these fateful envelopes. she had purloined them when she was a girl at school, and to her they were still a cherished remnant of gentility, that pallium under which so many of us would fain hide our rags. she had used one on this momentous occasion; it seemed a fitting cover for despatches to fording, and might divert attention from the straw paper on which her letter was written. lord blandamer had seen the bellevue lodge, had divined the genesis of the embossed inscription, had unravelled all anastasia's thoughts in using it, yet let the letter lie till he had finished lunch. when he read it afterwards he criticised it as he might the composition of a stranger, as a document with which he had no very close concern. yet he appreciated the effort which it must have cost the girl to write it, was touched by her words, and felt a certain grave compassion for her. but it was the strange juggle of circumstance, the sophoclean irony of a position of which he alone held the key, that most impressed themselves upon his mood. he ordered his horse, and took the road to cullerne, but his agent met him before he had passed the first lodge, and asked some further instructions for the planting at the top of the park. so he turned and rode up to the great belt of beeches which was then being planted, and was so long engaged there that dusk forced him to abandon his journey to the town. he rode back to fording at a foot-pace, choosing devious paths, and enjoying the sunset in the autumn woods. he would write to anastasia, and put off his visit till the next day. with him there was no such wholesale destruction of writing-paper as had attended anastasia's efforts on the previous night. one single sheet saw his letter begun and ended, a quarter of an hour sufficed for committing his sentiments very neatly to writing; he flung off his sentences easily, as easily as odysseus tossed his heavy stone beyond all the marks of the phaeacians: "my dearest child, "i need not speak now of the weary hours of suspense which i passed in waiting for your letter. they are over, and all is sunshine after the clouds. i need not tell you how my heart beat when i saw an envelope with your address, nor how eagerly my fingers tore it open, for now all is happiness. thank you, a thousand times thank you for your letter; it is like you, all candour, all kindness, and all truth. put aside your scruples; everything that you say is not a featherweight in the balance; do not trouble about your name in the past, for you will have a new name in the future. it is not i, but you, who overlook obstacles, for have you not overlooked all the years that lie between your age and mine? i have but a moment to scribble these lines; you must forgive their weakness, and take for said all that should be said. i shall be with you to-morrow morning, and till then am, in all love and devotion, "yours, "blandamer." he did not even read it through before he sealed it up, for he was in a hurry to get back to eugenid and to the "aristeia" of the heathens martyred under honorius. two days later, miss joliffe put on her sunday mantle and bonnet in the middle of the week, and went down to the market place to call on her cousin the pork-butcher. her attire at once attracted attention. the only justification for such extravagance would be some parish function or festivity, and nothing of that sort could be going on without the knowledge of the churchwarden's family. nor was it only the things which she wore, but the manner in which she wore them, that was so remarkable. as she entered the parlour at the back of the shop, where the pork-butcher's lady and daughters were sitting, they thought that they had never seen their cousin look so well dressed. she had lost the pinched, perplexed, down-trodden air which had overcast her later years; there was in her face a serenity and content which communicated itself in some mysterious way even to her apparel. "cousin euphemia looks quite respectable this morning," whispered the younger to the elder daughter; and they had to examine her closely before they convinced themselves that only a piece of mauve ribbon in her bonnet was new, and that the coat and dress were just the same as they had seen every sunday for two years past. with "nods and becks and wreathed smiles" miss euphemia seated herself. "i have just popped in," she began, and the very phrase had something in it so light and flippant that her listeners started--"i have just popped in for a minute to tell you some news. you have always been particular, my dears, that no one except your branch had a right to the name of joliffe in this town. you can't deny, maria," she said deprecatingly to the churchwarden's wife, "that you have always held out that you were the real joliffes, and been a little sore with me and anstice for calling ourselves by what we thought we had a right to. well, now there will be one less outside your family to use the name of joliffe, for anstice is going to give it up. somebody has offered to find another name for her." the real joliffes exchanged glances, and thought of the junior partner in the drapery shop, who had affirmed with an oath that anastasia joliffe did as much justice to his goods as any girl in cullerne; and thought again of the young farmer who was known for certain to let miss euphemia have eggs at a penny cheaper than anyone else. "yes, anstice is going to change her name, so that will be one grievance the less. and another thing that will make matters straighter between us, maria: i can promise the little bit of silver shall never go out of the family. you know what i mean--the teapot and the spoons marked with `j' that you've always claimed for yours by right. i shall leave them all back to you when my time comes; anstice will never want such odds and ends in the station to which she's called now." the real joliffes looked at each other again, and thought of young bulteel, who had helped anastasia with the gas-standards when the minster was decorated at christmas. or was it possible that her affected voice and fine lady airs had after all caught mr westray, that rather good-looking and interesting young man, on whom both the churchwarden's daughters were not without hopes of making an impression? miss joliffe enjoyed their curiosity; she was in a teasing and mischievous mood, to which she had been a stranger for thirty years. "yes," she said, "i am one that like to own up to it when i make a mistake, and i will state i _have_ made a mistake. i suppose i must take to spectacles; it seems i cannot see things that are going on under my very eyes--no, not even when they are pointed out to me. i've come round to tell you, maria, one and all, that i was completely mistaken when i told the churchwarden that it was not on anstice's account that lord blandamer has been visiting at bellevue lodge. it seems it was just for that he came, and the proof of it is he's going to marry her. in three weeks' time she will be lady blandamer, and if you want to say goodbye to her you'd better come back and have tea with me now, for she's packed her box, and is off to london to-morrow. mrs howard, who keeps the school in carisbury where anstice went in dear martin's lifetime, will meet her and take charge of her, and get her trousseau. lord blandamer has arranged it all, and he is going to marry anstice and take her for a long tour on the continent, and i'm sure i don't know where else." it was all true. lord blandamer made no secret of the matter, and his engagement to anastasia, only child of the late martin joliffe, esquire, of cullerne, was duly announced in the london papers. it was natural that westray should have known vacillation and misgiving before he made up his mind to offer marriage. it is with a man whose family or position are not strong enough to bear any extra strain, that public opinion plays so large a part in such circumstances. if he marries beneath him he falls to the wife's level, because he has no margin of resource to raise her to his own. with lord blandamer it was different: his reliance upon himself was so great, that he seemed to enjoy rather than not, the flinging down of a gauntlet to the public in this marriage. bellevue lodge became a centre of attraction. the ladies who had contemned a lodging-house keeper's daughter courted the betrothed of a peer. from themselves they did not disguise the motive for this change, they did not even attempt to find an excuse in public. they simply executed their _volte face_ simultaneously and with most commendable regularity, and felt no more reluctance or shame in the process than a cat feels in following the man who carries its meat. if they were disappointed in not seeing anastasia herself (for she left for london almost immediately after the engagement was made public), they were in some measure compensated by the extreme readiness of miss euphemia to discuss the matter in all its bearings. each and every detail was conscientiously considered and enlarged upon, from the buttons on lord blandamer's boots to the engagement-ring on anastasia's finger; and miss joliffe was never tired of explaining that this last had an emerald--"a very large emerald, my dear, surrounded by diamonds, green and white being the colours of his lordship's shield, what they call the nebuly coat, you know." a variety of wedding gifts found their way to bellevue lodge. "great events, such as marriages and deaths, certainly do call forth the sympathy of our neighbours in a wonderful way," miss joliffe said, with all the seriousness of an innocent belief in the general goodness of mankind. "till anstice was engaged, i never knew, i am sure, how many friends i had in cullerne." she showed "the presents" to successive callers, who examined them with the more interest because they had already seen most of them in the shop-windows of cullerne, and so were able to appreciate the exact monetary outlay with which their acquaintances thought it prudent to conciliate the fording interest. every form of useless ugliness was amply represented among them-vulgarity masqueraded as taste, niggardliness figured as generosity--and if miss joliffe was proud of them as she forwarded them from cullerne, anastasia was heartily ashamed of them when they reached her in london. "we must let bygones be bygones," said mrs parkyn to her husband with truly christian forbearance, "and if this young man's choice has not fallen exactly where we could have wished, we must remember, after all, that he _is_ lord blandamer, and make the best of the lady for his sake. we must give her a present; in your position as rector you could not afford to be left out. everyone, i hear, is giving something." "well, don't let it be anything extravagant," he said, laying down his paper, for his interest was aroused by any question of expense. "a too costly gift would be quite out of place under the circumstances. it should be rather an expression of goodwill to lord blandamer than anything of much intrinsic value." "of course, of course. you may trust me not to do anything foolish. i have my eye on just the thing. there is a beautiful set of four salt-cellars with their spoons at laverick's, in a case lined with puffed satin. they only cost thirty-three shillings, and look worth at least three pounds." chapter nineteen. the wedding was quiet, and there being no newspapers at that time to take such matters for their province, cullerne curiosity had to be contented with the bare announcement: "at saint agatha's-at-bow, horatio sebastian fynes, lord blandamer, to anastasia, only child of the late michael joliffe, of cullerne wharfe." mrs bulteel had been heard to say that she could not allow dear lord blandamer to be married without her being there. canon parkyn and mrs parkyn felt that their presence also was required _ex-officio_, and clerk janaway averred with some redundancies of expletive that he, too, "must see 'em turned off." he hadn't been to london for twenty year. if 'twere to cost a sovereign, why, 'twas a poor heart that never made merry, and he would never live to see another lord blandamer married. yet none of them went, for time and place were not revealed. but miss joliffe was there, and on her return to cullerne she held several receptions at bellevue lodge, at which only the wedding and the events connected with it were discussed. she was vested for these functions in a new dress of coffee-coloured silk, and what with a tea-urn hissing in mr sharnall's room, and muffins, toast, and sweet-cakes, there were such goings-on in the house, as had not been seen since the last coach rolled away from the old hand of god thirty years before. the company were very gracious and even affectionate, and miss joliffe, in the exhilaration of the occasion, forgot all those cold-shoulderings and askance looks which had grieved her at a certain dorcas meeting only a few weeks before. at these reunions many important particulars transpired. the wedding had been celebrated early in the morning at the special instance of the bride; only mrs howard and miss euphemia herself were present. anstice had worn a travelling dress of dark-green cloth, so that she might go straight from the church to the station. "and, my dears," she said, with a glance of all-embracing benevolence, "she looked a perfect young peeress." the kind and appreciative audience, who had all been expecting and hoping for the past six weeks, that some bolt might fall from the blue to rob anastasia of her triumph, were so astonished at the wedding having finally taken place that they could not muster a sneer among them. only lying-and-mischief-making mrs flint found courage for a sniff, and muttered something to her next neighbour about there being such things as mock marriages. the honeymoon was much extended. lord and lady blandamer went first to the italian lakes, and thence, working their way home by munich, nuremburg, and the rhine, travelled by such easy stages that autumn had set in when they reached paris. there they wintered, and there in the spring was born a son and heir to all the blandamer estates. the news caused much rejoicing in the domain; and when it was announced that the family were returning to cullerne, it was decided to celebrate the event by ringing a peal from the tower of saint sepulchre's. the proposal originated with canon parkyn. "it is a graceful compliment," he said, "to the nobleman to whose munificence the restoration is so largely due. we must show him how much stronger we have made our old tower, eh, mr westray? we must get the carisbury ringers over to teach cullerne people how such things should be done. sir george will have to stand out of his fees longer than ever, if he is to wait till the tower tumbles down now. eh, eh?" "ah, i do so dote on these old customs," assented his wife. "it is so delightful, a merry peal. i do think these good old customs should always be kept up." it was the cheapness of the entertainment that particularly appealed to her. "but is it necessary, my dear," she demurred, "to bring the ringers over from carisbury? they are a sad drunken lot. i am sure there must be plenty of young men in cullerne, who would delight to help ring the bells on such an occasion." but westray would have none of it. it was true, he said, that the tie-rods were fixed, and the tower that much the stronger; but he could countenance no ringing till the great south-east pier had been properly under-pinned. his remonstrances found little favour. lord blandamer would think it so ungracious. lady blandamer, to be sure, counted for very little; it was ridiculous, in fact, to think of ringing the minster bells for a landlady's niece, but lord blandamer would certainly be offended. "i call that clerk of the works a vain young upstart," mrs parkyn said to her husband. "i cannot think how you keep your temper with such a popinjay. i hope you will not allow yourself to be put upon again. you are so sweet-tempered and forbearing, that _everyone_ takes advantage of you." so she stirred him up till he assured her with considerable boldness that he was _not_ a man to be dictated to; the bells _should_ be rung, and he would get sir george's views to fortify his own. then sir george wrote one of those cheery little notes for which he was famous, with a proper admixture of indifferent puns and a classic conceit: that when gratitude was climbing the temple steps to lay an offering on hymen's altar, prudence must wait silent at the base till she came down. sir george should have been a doctor, his friends said; his manner was always so genial and reassuring. so having turned these happy phrases, and being overwhelmed with the grinding pressure of a great practice, he dismissed the tower of saint sepulchre from his mind, and left rector and ringers to their own devices. thus on an autumn afternoon there was a sound in cullerne that few of the inhabitants had ever heard, and the little town stopped its business to listen to the sweetest peal in all the west country. how they swung and rung and sung together, the little bells and the great bells, from beata maria, the sweet, silver-voiced treble, to taylor john, the deep-voiced tenor, that the guild of merchant taylors had given three hundred years ago. there was a charm in the air like the singing of innumerable birds; people flung up their windows to listen, people stood in the shop-doors to listen, and the melody went floating away over the salt-marshes, till the fishermen taking up their lobster-pots paused in sheer wonder at a music that they had never heard before. it seemed as if the very bells were glad to break their long repose; they sang together like the morning stars, they shouted together like the sons of god for joy. they remembered the times that were gone, and how they had rung when abbot harpingdon was given his red hat, and rung again when henry defended the faith by suppressing the abbey, and again when mary defended the faith by restoring the mass, and again when queen bess was given a pair of embroidered gloves as she passed through the market place on her way to fording. they remembered the long counter-change of life and death that had passed under the red roofs at their feet, they remembered innumerable births and marriages and funerals of old time; they sang together like the morning stars, they shouted together like the sons of god for joy, they shouted for joy. the carisbury ringers came over after all; and mrs parkyn bore their advent with less misgiving, in the hope that directly lord blandamer heard of the honour that was done him, he would send a handsome donation for the ringers as he had already sent to the workhouse, and the old folk, and the school-children of cullerne. the ropes and the cage, and the pins and the wheels, had all been carefully overhauled; and when the day came, the ringers stood to their work like men, and rang a full peal of grandsire triples in two hours and fifty-nine minutes. there was a little cask of bulteel's brightest tenpenny that some magician's arm had conjured up through the well-hole in the belfry floor: and clerk janaway, for all he was teetotaler, eyed the foaming pots wistfully as he passed them round after the work was done. "well," he said, "there weren't no int'rupted peal this time, were there? these here old bells never had a finer set of ringing-men under them, and i lay you never had a finer set of bells above your heads, my lads; now did 'ee? i've heard the bells swung many a time in carisbury tower, and heard 'em when the queen was set upon her throne, but, lor'! they arn't so deep-like nor yet so sweet as this here old ring. perhaps they've grow'd the sweeter for lying by a bit, like port in the cellars of the blandamer arms, though i've heard dr ennefer say some of it was turned so like sherry, that no man living couldn't tell the difference." westray had bowed like loyal subaltern to the verdict of his chief. sir george's decision that the bells might safely be rung lifted the responsibility from the young man's shoulders, but not the anxiety from his mind. he never left the church while the peal was ringing. first he was in the bell-chamber steadying himself by the beams of the cage, while he marked the wide-mouthed bells now open heavenwards, now turn back with a rush into the darkness below. then he crept deafened with the clangour down the stairs into the belfry, and sat on the sill of a window watching the ringers rise and fall at their work. he felt the tower sway restlessly under the stress of the swinging metal, but there was nothing unusual in the motion; there was no falling of mortar, nothing to attract any special attention. then he went down into the church, and up again into the organ-loft, whence he could see the wide bow of that late norman arch which spanned the south transept. above the arch ran up into the lantern the old fissure, zigzag like a baleful lightning-flash, that had given him so much anxiety. the day was overcast, and heavy masses of cloud drifting across the sky darkened the church. but where the shadows hung heaviest, under a stone gallery passage that ran round the inside of the lantern, could be traced one of those heavy tie-rods with which the tower had recently been strengthened. westray was glad to think that the ties were there; he hoped that they might indeed support the strain which this bell-ringing was bringing on the tower; he hoped that sir george was right, and that he, westray, was wrong. yet he had pasted a strip of paper across the crack, so that by tearing it might give warning if any serious movement were taking place. as he leant over the screen of the organ-loft, he thought of that afternoon when he had first seen signs of the arch moving, of that afternoon when the organist was playing "sharnall in d flat." how much had happened since then! he thought of that scene which had happened in this very loft, of sharnall's end, of the strange accident that had terminated a sad life on that wild night. what a strange accident it was, what a strange thing that sharnall should have been haunted by that wandering fancy of a man following him with a hammer, and then have been found in this very loft, with the desperate wound on him that the pedal-note had dealt! how much had happened--his own proposal to anastasia, his refusal, and now that event for which the bells were ringing! how quickly the scenes changed! what a creature of an hour was he, was every man, in face of these grim walls that had stood enduring, immutable, for generation after generation, for age after age! and then he smiled as he thought that these eternal realities of stone were all created by ephemeral man; that he, ephemeral man, was even now busied with schemes for their support, with anxieties lest they should fall and grind to powder all below. the bells sounded fainter and far off inside the church. as they reached his ears through the heavy stone roof they were more harmonious, all harshness was softened; the _sordino_ of the vaulting produced the effect of a muffled peal. he could hear deep-voiced taylor john go striding through his singing comrades in the intricacies of the treble bob triples, and yet there was another voice in westray's ears that made itself heard even above the booming of the tenor bell. it was the cry of the tower arches, the small still voice that had haunted him ever since he had been at cullerne. "the arch never sleeps," they said--"the arch never sleeps;" and again, "they have bound on us a burden too heavy to be borne; but we are shifting it. the arch never sleeps." the ringers were approaching the end; they had been at their work for near three hours, the 5,040 changes were almost finished. westray went down from the organ-loft, and as he walked through the church the very last change was rung. before the hum and mutter had died out of the air, and while the red-faced ringers in the belfry were quaffing their tankards, the architect had made his way to the scaffolding, and stood face to face with the zigzag crack. he looked at it carefully, as a doctor might examine a wound; he thrust his hand like thomas into the dark fissure. no, there was no change; the paper strip was unbroken, the tie-rods had done their work nobly. sir george had been quite right after all. and as he looked there was the very faintest noise heard--a whisper, a mutter, a noise so slight that it might have passed a hundred times unnoticed. but to the architect's ear it spoke as loudly as a thunderclap. he knew exactly what it was and whence it came; and looking at the crack, saw that the broad paper strip was torn half-way across. it was a small affair; the paper strip was not quite parted, it was only torn half-way through. though westray watched for an hour, no further change took place. the ringers had left the tower, the little town had resumed its business. clerk janaway was walking across the church, when he saw the architect leaning against a cross-pole of the scaffolding, on the platform high up under the arch of the south transept. "i'm just a-locking up," he called out. "you've got your own key, sir, no doubt?" westray gave an almost imperceptible nod. "well, we haven't brought the tower down this time," the clerk went on. but westray made no answer; his eyes were fixed on the little half-torn strip of paper, and he had no thought for anything else. a minute later the old man stood beside him on the platform, puffing after the ladders that he had climbed. "no int'rupted peal this time," he said; "we've fair beat the neb'ly coat at last. lord blandamer back, and an heir to keep the family going. looks as if the neb'ly coat was losing a bit of his sting, don't it?" but westray was moody, and said nothing. "why what's the matter? you bain't took bad, be you?" "don't bother me now," the architect said sharply. "i wish to heaven the peal _had_ been interrupted. i wish your bells had never been rung. look there"--and he pointed at the strip of paper. the clerk went closer to the crack, and looked hard at the silent witness. "lor' bless you! that ain't nothing," he said; "'tis only just the jarring of the bells done that. you don't expect a mushet of paper to stand as firm as an anvil-stone, when taylor john's a-swinging up aloft." "look you," westray said; "you were in church this morning. do you remember the lesson about the prophet sending his servant up to the top of a hill, to look at the sea? the man went up ever so many times and saw nothing. last he saw a little cloud like a man's hand rising out of the sea, and after that the heaven grew black, and the storm broke. i'm not sure that bit of torn paper isn't the man's hand for this tower." "don't bother yourself," rejoined the clerk; "the man's hand showed the rain was a-coming, and the rain was just what they wanted. i never can make out why folks twist the scripture round and make the man's hand into something bad. 'twas a _good_ thing, so take heart and get home to your victuals; you can't mend that bit of paper for all your staring at it." westray paid no attention to his remarks, and the old man wished him good-night rather stiffly. "well," he said, as he turned down the ladder, "i'm off. i've got to be in my garden afore dark, for they're going to seal the leek leaves to-night against the leek-show next week. my grandson took first prize last year, and his old grandad had to put up with eleventh; but i've got half a dozen leeks this season as'll beat any plant that's growed in cullerne." by the next morning the paper strip was entirely parted. westray wrote to sir george, but history only repeated itself; for his chief again made light of the matter, and gave the young man a strong hint that he was making mountains of molehills, that he was unduly nervous, that his place was to diligently carry out the instructions he had received. another strip of paper was pasted across the crack, and remained intact. it seemed as if the tower had come to rest again, but westray's scruples were not so easily allayed this time, and he took measures for pushing forward the under-pinning of the south-east pier with all possible despatch. chapter twenty. that inclination or predilection of westray's for anastasia, which he had been able to persuade himself was love, had passed away. his peace of mind was now completely restored, and he discounted the humiliation of refusal, by reflecting that the girl's affections must have been already engaged at the time of his proposal. he was ready to admit that lord blandamer would in any case have been a formidable competitor, but if they had started for the race at the same time he would have been quite prepared to back his own chances. against his rival's position and wealth, might surely have been set his own youth, regularity of life, and professional skill; but it was a mere tilting against windmills to try to win a heart that was already another's. thus disturbing influences were gradually composed, and he was able to devote an undivided attention to his professional work. as the winter evenings set in, he found congenial occupation in an attempt to elucidate the heraldry of the great window at the end of the south transept. he made sketches of the various shields blazoned in it, and with the aid of a county history, and a manual which dr ennefer had lent him, succeeded in tracing most of the alliances represented by the various quarterings. these all related to marriages of the blandamer family, for van linge had filled the window with glass to the order of the third lord blandamer, and the sea-green and silver of the nebuly coat was many times repeated, beside figuring in chief at the head of the window. in these studies westray was glad to have martin joliffe's papers by him. there was in them a mass of information which bore on the subject of the architect's inquiries, for martin had taken the published genealogy of the blandamer family, and elaborated and corrected it by all kinds of investigation as to marriages and collaterals. the story of martin's delusion, the idea of the doited grey-beard whom the boys called "old nebuly," had been so firmly impressed on westray's mind, that when he first turned over the papers he expected to find in them little more than the hallucinations of a madman. but by degrees he became aware that however disconnected many of martin's notes might appear, they possessed a good deal of interest, and the coherence which results from a particular object being kept more or less continuously in view. besides endless genealogies and bits of family history extracted from books, there were recorded all kinds of personal impressions and experiences, which martin had met with in his journeyings. but in all his researches and expeditions he professed to have but one object--the discovery of his father's name; though what record he hoped to find, or where or how he hoped to find it, whether in document or register or inscription, was nowhere set out. it was evident that the old fancy that he was the rightful owner of fording, which had been suggested to him in his oxford days, had taken such hold of his mind that no subsequent experience had been able to dislodge it. of half his parentage there was no doubt. his mother was that sophia flannery who had married yeoman joliffe, had painted the famous picture of the flowers and caterpillar, and done many other things less reputable; but over his father hung a veil of obscurity which martin had tried all his life to lift. westray had heard those early stories from clerk janaway a dozen times, how that when yeoman joliffe took sophia to church she brought him a four-year-old son by a former marriage. by a former _marriage_ martin had always stoutly maintained, as in duty bound, for any other theory would have dishonoured himself. with his mother's honour he had little concern, for where was the use of defending the memory of a mother who had made shipwreck of her own reputation with soldiers and horse-copers? it was this previous marriage that martin had tried so hard to establish, tried all the harder because other folk had wagged their heads and said there was no marriage to discover, that sophia was neither wife nor widow. towards the end of his notes it seemed as if he had found some clue--had found some clue, or thought that he had found it. in this game of hunt the slipper he had imagined that he was growing "hotter" and "hotter" till death balked him at the finish. westray recollected mr sharnall saying more than once that martin had been on the brink of solving the riddle when the end overtook him. and sharnall, too, had he not almost grasped the will-of-the-wisp when fate tripped _him_ on that windy night? many thoughts came to westray's mind as he turned these papers, many memories of others who had turned them before him. he thought of clever, worthless martin, who had wasted his days on their writing, who had neglected home and family for their sake; he thought of the little organist who had held them in his feverish hands, who had hoped by some dramatic discovery to illumine the dark setting of his own life. and as westray read, the interest grew with him too, till it absorbed the heraldry of the blandamer window from which the whole matter had started. he began to comprehend the vision that had possessed martin, that had so stirred the organist's feelings; he began to think that it was reserved for himself to make the long-sought discovery, and that he had in his own hand the clue to the strangest of romances. one evening as he sat by the fire, with a plan in his hands and a litter of martin's papers lying on a table at his side, there was a tap at the door, and miss joliffe entered. they were still close friends in spite of his leaving bellevue lodge. however sorry she had been at the time to lose her lodger, she recognised that the course he had taken was correct, and, indeed, obligatory. she was glad that he had seen his duty in this matter; it would have been quite impossible for any man of ordinary human feelings, to continue to live on in the same house under such circumstances. to have made a bid for anstice's hand, and to have been refused, was a blow that moved her deepest pity, and she endeavoured in many ways to show her consideration for the victim. providence had no doubt overruled everything for the best in ordaining that anstice should refuse mr westray, but miss joliffe had favoured his suit, and had been sorry at the time that it was not successful. so there existed between them that curious sympathy, which generally exists between a rejected lover and a woman who has done her best to further his proposal. they had since met not unfrequently, and the year which had elapsed had sufficiently blunted the edge of westray's disappointment, to enable him to talk of the matter with equanimity. he took a sad pleasure in discussing with miss joliffe the motives which might have conduced to so inexplicable a refusal, and in considering whether his offer would have been accepted if it had been made a little sooner or in another manner. nor was the subject in any way distasteful to her, for she felt a reflected glory in the fact of her niece having first refused a thoroughly eligible proposal, and having afterwards accepted one transcendently better. "forgive me, sir--forgive me, mr westray," she corrected herself, remembering that their relation was no longer one of landlady and lodger. "i am sorry to intrude on you so late, but it is difficult to find you in during the day. there is a matter that has been weighing lately on my mind. you have never taken away the picture of the flowers, which you and dear mr sharnall purchased of me. i have not hurried in the matter, feeling i should like to see you nicely settled in before it was moved, but now it is time all was set right, so i have brought it over to-night." if her dress was no longer threadbare, it was still of the neatest black, and if she had taken to wearing every day the moss-agate brooch which had formerly been reserved for sundays, she was still the very same old sweet-tempered, spontaneous, miss joliffe as in time past. westray looked at her with something like affection. "sit down," he said, offering her a chair; "did you say you had brought the picture with you?" and he scanned her as if he expected to see it produced from her pocket. "yes," she said; "my maid is bringing it upstairs"--and there was just a suspicion of hesitation on the word "maid," that showed that she was still unaccustomed to the luxury of being waited on. it was with great difficulty that she had been persuaded to accept such an allowance at anastasia's hands, as would enable her to live on at bellevue lodge and keep a single servant; and if it brought her infinite relief to find that lord blandamer had paid all martin's bills within a week of his engagement, such generosity filled her at the same time with a multitude of scruples. lord blandamer had wished her to live with them at fording, but he was far too considerate and appreciative of the situation to insist on this proposal when he saw that such a change would be uncongenial to her. so she remained at cullerne, and spent her time in receiving with dignity visits from the innumerable friends that she found she now possessed, and in the fullest enjoyment of church services, meetings, parish work, and other privileges. "it is very good of you, miss joliffe," westray said; "it is very kind of you to think of the picture. but," he went on, with a too vivid recollection of the painting, "i know how much you have always prized it, and i could not bear to take it away from bellevue lodge. you see, mr sharnall, who was part owner with me, is dead; i am only making you a present of half of it, so you must accept that from me as a little token of gratitude for all the kindness you have shown me. you _have_ been very kind to me, you know," he said with a sigh, which was meant to recall miss joliffe's friendliness, and his own grief, in the affair of the proposal. miss joliffe was quick to take the cue, and her voice was full of sympathy. "dear mr westray, you know how glad i should have been if all could have happened as you wished. yet we should try to recognise the ordering of providence in these things, and bear sorrow with meekness. but about the picture, you must let me have my own way this once. there may come a time, and that before very long, when i shall be able to buy it back from you just as we arranged, and then i am sure you will let me have it. but for the present it must be with you, and if anything should happen to me i should wish you to keep it altogether." westray had meant to insist on her retaining the picture; he would not for a second time submit to be haunted with the gaudy flowers and the green caterpillar. but while she spoke, there fell upon him one of those gusty changes of purpose to which he was peculiarly liable. there came into his mind that strange insistence with which sharnall had begged him at all hazards to retain possession of the picture. it seemed as if there might be some mysterious influence which had brought miss joliffe with it just now, and that he might be playing false to his trust with sharnall if he sent it back again. so he did not remain obdurate, but said: "well, if you really wish it, i will keep the picture for a time, and whenever you want it you can take it back again." while he was speaking there was a sound of stumbling on the stairs outside, and a bang as if something heavy had been let drop. "it is that stupid girl again," miss joliffe said; "she is always tumbling about. i am sure she has broken more china in the six months she has been with me than was broken before in six years." they went to the door, and as westray opened it great red-faced and smiling anne janaway walked in, bearing the glorious picture of the flowers and caterpillar. "what have you been doing now?" her mistress asked sharply. "very sorry, mum," said the maid, mingling some indignation with her apology, "this here gurt paint tripped i up. i'm sure i hope i haven't hurt un"--and she planted the picture on the floor against the table. miss joliffe scanned the picture with an eye which was trained to detect the very flakiest chip on a saucer, the very faintest scratch upon a teapot. "dear me, dear me!" she said, "the beautiful frame is ruined; the bottom piece is broken almost clean off." "oh, come," westray said in a pacifying tone, while he lifted the picture and laid it flat on the table, "things are not so bad as all that." he saw that the piece which formed the bottom of the frame was indeed detached at both corners and ready to fall away, but he pushed it back into position with his hand till it stuck in its place, and left little damage apparent to a casual observer. "see," he said, "it looks nearly all right. a little glue will quite repair the mischief to-morrow i am sure i wonder how your servant managed to get it up here at all--it is such a weight and size." as a matter of fact, miss joliffe herself had helped ann to carry the picture as far as the grands mulets of the last landing. the final ascent she thought could be accomplished in safety by the girl alone, while it would have been derogatory to her new position of an independent lady to appear before westray carrying the picture herself. "do not vex yourself," westray begged; "look, there is a nail in the wall here under the ceiling which will do capitally for hanging it till i can find a better place; the old cord is just the right length." he climbed on a chair and adjusted the picture, standing back as if to admire it, till miss joliffe's complacency was fairly restored. westray was busied that night long after miss joliffe had left him, and the hands of the loud-ticking clock on the mantelpiece showed that midnight was near before he had finished his work. then he sat a little while before the dying fire, thinking much of mr sharnall, whom the picture had recalled to his mind, until the blackening embers warned him that it was time to go to bed. he was rising from his chair, when he heard behind him a noise as of something falling, and looking round, saw that the bottom of the picture-frame, which he had temporarily pushed into position, had broken away again of its own weight, and was fallen on the floor. the frame was handsomely wrought with a peculiar interlacing fillet, as he had noticed many times before. it was curious that so poor a picture should have obtained a rich setting, and sometimes he thought that sophia flannery must have bought the frame at a sale, and had afterwards daubed the flower-piece to fill it. the room had grown suddenly cold with the chill which dogs the heels of a dying fire on an early winter's night. an icy breath blew in under the door, and made something flutter that lay on the floor close to the broken frame. westray stooped to pick it up, and found that he had in his hand a piece of folded paper. he felt a curious reluctance in handling it. those fantastic scruples to which he was so often a prey assailed him. he asked himself had he any right to examine this piece of paper? it might be a letter; he did not know whence it had come, nor whose it was, and he certainly did not wish to be guilty of opening someone else's letter. he even went so far as to put it solemnly on the table, like a skipper on whose deck the phantom whale-boat of the _flying dutchman_ has deposited a packet of mails. after a few minutes, however, he appreciated the absurdity of the situation, and with an effort unfolded the mysterious missive. it was a long narrow piece of paper, yellowed with years, and lined with the creases of a generation; and had on it both printed and written characters. he recognised it instantly for a certificate of marriage-those "marriage lines" on which so often hang both the law and the prophets. there it was with all the little pigeon-holes duly filled in, and set forth how that on "march 15, 1800, at the church of saint medard within, one horatio sebastian fynes, bachelor, aged twenty-one, son of horatio sebastian fynes, gentleman, was married to one sophia flannery, spinster, aged twenty-one, daughter of james flannery, merchant," with witnesses duly attesting. and underneath an ill-formed straggling hand had added a superscription in ink that was now brown and wasted: "martin born january 2, 1801, at ten minutes past twelve, night." he laid it on the table and folded it out flat, and knew that he had under his eyes that certificate of the first marriage (of the only true marriage) of martin's mother, which martin had longed all his life to see, and had not seen; that patent of legitimacy which martin thought he had within his grasp when death overtook him, that clue which sharnall thought that he had within his grasp when death overtook him also. on march 15, 1800, sophia flannery was married by special licence to horatio sebastian fynes, gentleman, and on january 2, 1801, at ten minutes past twelve, night, martin was born. horatio sebastian--the names were familiar enough to westray. who was this horatio sebastian fynes, son of horatio sebastian fynes, gentleman? it was only a formal question that he asked himself, for he knew the answer very well. this document that he had before him might be no legal proof, but not all the lawyers in christendom could change his conviction, his intuition, that the "gentleman" sophia flannery had married was none other than the octogenarian lord blandamer deceased three years ago. there was to his eyes an air of authenticity about that yellowed strip of paper that nothing could upset, and the date of martin's birth given in the straggling hand at the bottom coincided exactly with his own information. he sat down again in the cold with his elbows on the table and his head between his hands while he took in some of the corollaries of the position. if the old lord blandamer had married sophia flannery on march 15, 1800, then his second marriage was no marriage at all, for sophia was living long after that, and there had been no divorce. but if his second marriage was no marriage, then his son, lord blandamer, who was drowned in cullerne bay, had been illegitimate, and his grandson, lord blandamer, who now sat on the throne of fording, was illegitimate too. and martin's dream had been true. selfish, thriftless, idle martin, whom the boys called "old nebuly," had not been mad after all, but had been lord blandamer. it all hung on this strip of paper, this bolt fallen from the blue, this message that had come from no one knew where. whence _had_ it come? could miss joliffe have dropped it? no, that was impossible; she would certainly have told him if she had any information of this kind, for she knew that he had been trying for months to unravel the tangle of martin's papers. it must have been hidden behind the picture, and have fallen out when the bottom piece of the frame fell. he went to the picture. there was the vase of flaunting, ill-drawn flowers, there was the green caterpillar wriggling on the table-top, but at the bottom was something that he had never seen before. a long narrow margin of another painting was now visible where the frame was broken away; it seemed as if the flower-piece had been painted over some other subject, as if sophia flannery had not even been at the pains to take the canvas out, and had only carried her daub up to the edge of the frame. there was no question that the flowers masked some better painting, some portrait, no doubt, for enough was shown at the bottom to enable him to make out a strip of a brown velvet coat, and even one mother-of-pearl button of a brown velvet waistcoat. he stared at the flowers, he held a candle close to them in the hope of being able to trace some outline, to discover something of what lay behind. but the colour had been laid on with no sparing hand, the veil was impenetrable. even the green caterpillar seemed to mock him, for as he looked at it closely, he saw that sophia in her wantonness had put some minute touches of colour, which gave its head two eyes and a grinning mouth. he sat down again at the table where the certificate still lay open before him. that entry of martin's birth must be in the handwriting of sophia flannery, of faithless, irresponsible sophia flannery, flaunting as her own flowers, mocking as the face of her own caterpillar. there was a dead silence over all, the utter blank silence that falls upon a country town in the early morning hours. only the loud-ticking clock on the mantelpiece kept telling of time's passage till the carillon of saint sepulchre's woke the silence with new sabbath. it was three o'clock, and the room was deadly cold, but that chill was nothing to the chill that was rising to his own heart. he knew it all now, he said to himself--he knew the secret of anastasia's marriage, and of sharnall's death, and of martin's death. chapter twenty one. the foreman of the masons at work in the under-pinning of the south-east pier came to see westray at nine o'clock the next morning. he was anxious that the architect should go down to the church at once, for the workmen, on reaching the tower shortly after daybreak, found traces of a fresh movement which had taken place during the night. but westray was from home, having left cullerne for london by the first train. about ten of the same forenoon, the architect was in the shop of a small picture-dealer in westminster. the canvas of the flowers and caterpillar picture lay on the counter, for the man had just taken it out of the frame. "no," said the dealer, "there is no paper or any kind of lining in the frame--just a simple wood backing, you see. it is unusual to back at all, but it _is_ done now and again"--and he tapped the loose frame all round. "it is an expensive frame, well made, and with good gilding. i shouldn't be surprised if the painting underneath this daub turned out to be quite respectable; they would never put a frame like this on anything that wasn't pretty good." "do you think you can clean off the top part without damaging the painting underneath?" "oh dear, yes," the man said; "i've had many harder jobs. you leave it with me for a couple of days, and we'll see what we can make of it." "couldn't it be done quicker than that?" westray said. "i'm in rather a hurry. it is difficult for me to get up to london, and i should rather like to be by, when you begin to clean it." "don't make yourself anxious," the other said; "you can leave it in my hands with perfect confidence. we're quite used to this business." westray still looked unsatisfied. the dealer gave a glance round the shop. "well," he said, "things don't seem very busy this morning; if you're in such a hurry, i don't mind just trying a little bit of it now. we'll put it on the table in the back-room. i can see if anyone comes into the shop." "begin where the face ought to be," westray said; "let us see whose portrait it is." "no, no," said the dealer; "we won't risk the face yet. let us try something that doesn't matter much. we shall see how this stuff peels off; that'll give us a guide for the more important part. here, i'll start with the table-top and caterpillar. there's something queer about that caterpillar, beside the face some joker's fitted it up with. i'm rather shy about the caterpillar. looks to me as if it was a bit of the real picture left showing through, though i don't very well see how a caterpillar would fit in with a portrait." the dealer passed the nail of his forefinger lightly over the surface of the picture. "it seems as if 'twas sunk. you can feel the edges of this heavy daubing rough all round it." it was as he pointed out; the green caterpillar certainly appeared to form some part of the underlying picture. the man took out a bottle, and with a brush laid some solution on the painting. "you must wait for it to dry. it will blister and frizzle up the surface, then we can rub off the top gently with a cloth, and you'll see what you will see." "the fellow who painted this table-top didn't spare his colours," said the dealer half an hour later, "and that's all the better for us. see, it comes off like a skin"--and he worked away tenderly with a soft flannel. "well, i'm jiggered," he went on, "if here isn't another caterpillar higher up! no, it ain't a caterpillar; but if it ain't a caterpillar, what is it?" there was indeed another wavy green line, but westray knew what it was directly he saw it. "be careful," he said; "they aren't caterpillars at all, but just part of a coat of arms--a kind of bars in an heraldic shield, you know. there will be another shorter green line lower down." it was as he said, and in a minute more there shone out the silver field and the three sea-green bars of the nebuly coat, and below it the motto _aut fynes aut finis_, just as it shone in the top light of the blandamer window. it was the middle bar that sophia had turned into a caterpillar, and in pure wantonness left showing through, when for her own purposes she had painted out the rest of the picture. westray's excitement was getting the better of him--he could not keep still; he stood first on one leg and then on another, and drummed on the table with his fingers. the dealer put his hand on the architect's arm. "for god's sake keep quiet!" he said; "don't excite yourself. you needn't think you have found a gold mine. it ain't a ten thousand-guinea vandyke. we can't see enough yet to say what it is, but i'll bet my life you never get a twenty-pound note for it." but for all westray's impatience, the afternoon was well advanced before the head of the portrait was approached. there had been so few interruptions, that the dealer felt called upon to extenuate the absence of custom by explaining more than once that it was a very dull season. he was evidently interested in his task, for he worked with a will till the light began to fail. "never mind," he said; "i will get a lamp; now we have got so far we may as well go a bit further." it was a full-face picture, as they saw a few minutes afterwards. westray held the lamp, and felt a strange thrill go through him, as he began to make out the youthful and unwrinkled brow. surely he knew that high forehead--it was anastasia's, and there was anastasia's dark wavy hair above it. "why, it's a woman after all," the dealer said. "no, it isn't; of course, how could it be with a brown velvet coat and waistcoat? it's a young man with curly hair." westray said nothing; he was too much excited, too much interested to say a word, for two eyes were peering at him through the mist. then the mist lifted under the dealer's cloth, and the eyes gleamed with a startling brightness. they were light-grey eyes, clear and piercing, that transfixed him and read the very thoughts that he was thinking. anastasia had vanished. it was lord blandamer that looked at him out of the picture. they were lord blandamer's eyes, impenetrable and observant as to-day, but with the brightness of youth still in them; and the face, untarnished by middle age, showed that the picture had been painted some years ago. westray put his elbows on the table and his head between his hands, while he gazed at the face which had thus come back to life. the eyes pursued him, he could not escape from them, he could scarcely spare a glance even for the nebuly coat that was blazoned in the corner. there were questions revolving in his mind for which he found as yet no answer. there was some mystery to which this portrait might be the clue. he was on the eve of some terrible explanation; he remembered all kinds of incidents that seemed connected with this picture, and yet could find no thread on which to string them. of course, this head must have been painted when lord blandamer was young, but how could sophia flannery have ever seen it? the picture had only been the flowers and the table-top and caterpillar all through miss euphemia's memory, and that covered sixty years. but lord blandamer was not more than forty; and as westray looked at the face he found little differences for which no change from youth to middle age could altogether account. then he guessed that this was not the lord blandamer whom he knew, but an older one--that octogenarian who had died three years ago, that horatio sebastian fynes, gentleman, who had married sophia flannery. "it ain't a real first-rater," the dealer said, "but it ain't bad. i shouldn't be surprised if 'twas a lawrence, and, anyway, it's a sight better than the flowers. beats me to know how anyone ever came to paint such stuff as them on top of this respectable young man." westray was back in cullerne the next evening. in the press of many thoughts he had forgotten to tell his landlady that he was coming, and he stood charing while a maid-of-all-work tried to light the recalcitrant fire. the sticks were few and damp, the newspaper below them was damp, and the damp coal weighed heavily down on top of all, till the thick yellow smoke shied at the chimney, and came curling out under the worsted fringe of the mantelpiece into the chilly room. westray took this discomfort the more impatiently, in that it was due to his own forgetfulness in having sent no word of his return. "why in the world isn't the fire lit?" he said sharply. "you must have known i couldn't sit without a fire on a cold evening like this;" and the wind sang dismally in the joints of the windows to emphasise the dreariness of the situation. "it ain't nothing to do with me," answered the red-armed, coal-besmeared hoyden, looking up from her knees; "it's the missus. `he was put out with the coal bill last time,' she says, `and i ain't going to risk lighting up his fire with coal at sixpence a scuttle, and me not knowing whether he's coming back to-night.'" "well, you might see at any rate that the fire was properly laid," the architect said, as the lighting process gave evident indications of failing for the third time. "i do my best," she said in a larmoyant tone, "but i can't do everything, what with having to cook, and clean, and run up and down stairs with notes, and answer the bell every other minute to lords." "has lord blandamer been here?" asked westray. "yes, he came yesterday and twice to-day to see you," she said, "and then he left a note. there 'tis"--and she pointed to the end of the mantelpiece. westray looked round, and saw an envelope edged in black. he knew the strong, bold hand of the superscription well enough, and in his present mood it sent something like a thrill of horror through him. "you needn't wait," he said quickly to the servant; "it isn't your fault at all about the fire. i'm sure it's going to burn now." the girl rose quickly to her feet, gave an astonished glance at the grate, which was once more enveloped in impotent blackness, and left the room. an hour later, when the light outside was failing, westray sat in the cold and darkening room. on the table lay open before him lord blandamer's letter: "dear mr westray, "i called to see you yesterday, but was unfortunate in finding you absent from home, and so write these lines. there used to hang in your sitting-room at bellevue lodge an old picture of flowers which has some interest for my wife. her affection for it is based on early associations, and not, of course, on any merits of the painting itself. i thought that it belonged to miss joliffe, but i find on inquiry from her that she sold it to you some little time ago, and that it is with you now. i do not suppose that you can attach any great value to it, and, indeed, i suspect that you bought it of miss joliffe as an act of charity. if this is so, i should be obliged if you would let me know if you are disposed to part with it again, as my wife would like to have it here. "i am sorry to hear of fresh movement in the tower. it would be a bitter thought to me, if the peal that welcomed us back were found to have caused damage to the structure, but i am sure you will know that no expense should be spared to make all really secure as soon as possible. "very faithfully yours, "blandamer." westray was eager, impressionable, still subject to all the exaltations and depressions of youth. thoughts crowded into his mind with bewildering rapidity; they trod so close upon each other's heels that there was no time to marshal them in order; excitement had dizzied him. was he called to be the minister of justice? was he chosen for the scourge of god? was his the hand that must launch the bolt against the guilty? discovery had come directly to him. what a piece of circumstantial evidence were these very lines that lay open on the table, dim and illegible in the darkness that filled the room! yet clear and damning to one who had the clue. this man that ruled at fording was a pretender, enjoying goods that belonged to others, a shameless evil-doer, who had not stuck at marrying innocent anastasia joliffe, if by so stooping he might cover up the traces of his imposture. there was no lord blandamer, there was no title; with a breath he could sweep it all away like a house of cards. and was that all? was there nothing else? night had fallen. westray sat alone in the dark, his elbows on the table, his head still between his hands. there was no fire, there was no light, only the faint shimmer of a far-off street lamp brought a perception of the darkness. it was that pale uncertain luminosity that recalled to his mind another night, when the misty moon shone through the clerestory windows of saint sepulchre's. he seemed once more to be making his way up the ghostly nave, on past the pillars that stood like gigantic figures in white winding-sheets, on under the great tower arches. once more he was groping in the utter darkness of the newel stair, once more he came out into the organ-loft, and saw the baleful silver and sea-green of the nebuly coat gleaming in the transept window. and in the corners of the room lurked presences of evil, and a thin pale shadow of sharnall wrung its hands, and cried to be saved from the man with the hammer. then the horrible suspicion that had haunted him these last days stared out of the darkness as a fact, and he sprung to his feet in a shiver of cold and lit a candle. an hour, two hours, three hours passed before he had written an answer to the letter that lay before him, and in the interval a fresh vicissitude of mind had befallen him. he, westray, had been singled out as the instrument of vengeance; the clue was in his hands; his was the mouth that must condemn. yet he would do nothing underhand, he would take no man unawares; he would tell lord blandamer of his discovery, and give him warning before he took any further steps. so he wrote: "my lord," and of the many sheets that were begun and flung away before the letter was finished, two were spoiled because the familiar address "dear lord blandamer" came as it were automatically from westray's pen. he could no longer bring himself to use those words now, even as a formality, and so he began: "my lord, "i have just received your note about the picture bought by me of miss joliffe. i cannot say whether i should have been willing to part with it under ordinary circumstances. it had no apparent intrinsic value, but for me it was associated with my friend the late mr sharnall, organist of saint sepulchre's. we shared in its purchase, and it was only on his death that i came into sole possession of it. you will not have forgotten the strange circumstances of his end, and i have not forgotten them either. my friend mr sharnall was well-known among his acquaintances to be much interested in this picture. he believed it to be of more importance than appeared, and he expressed himself strongly to that effect in my presence, and once also, i remember, in yours. "but for his untimely death i think he would have long ago made the discovery to which chance has now led me. the flowers prove to be a mere surface painting which concealed what is undoubtedly a portrait of the late lord blandamer, and at the back of the canvas were found copies of certain entries in parish registers relating to him. i most earnestly wish that i could end here by making over these things to you, but they seem to me to throw so strange a light on certain past events that i must hold myself responsible for them, and can give them up to no private person. at the same time, i do not feel justified in refusing to let you see picture and papers, if you should wish to do so, and to judge yourself of their importance. i am at the above address, and shall be ready to make an appointment at any time before monday next, after which date i shall feel compelled to take further steps in this matter." westray's letter reached lord blandamer the next morning. it lay at the bottom of a little heap of correspondence on the breakfast-table, like the last evil lot to leap out of the shaken urn, an ephedrus, like that adulterer who at the finish tripped the conqueror of troy. he read it at a glance, catching its import rather by intuition than by any slavish following of the written characters. if earth was darkness at the core, and dust and ashes all that is, there was no trace of it in his face. he talked gaily, he fulfilled the duties of a host with all his charm of manner, he sped two guests who were leaving that morning with all his usual courtesy. after that he ordered his horse, and telling lady blandamer that he might not be back to lunch, he set out for one of those slow solitary rides on the estate that often seemed congenial to his mood. he rode along by narrow lanes and bridle-paths, not forgetting a kindly greeting to men who touched their hats, or women who dropped a curtsey, but all the while he thought. the letter had sent his memory back to another black day, more than twenty years before, when he had quarrelled with his grandfather. it was in his second year at oxford, when as an undergraduate he first felt it his duty to set the whole world in order. he held strong views as to the mismanagement of the fording estates; and as a scholar and man of the world, had thought it weakness to shirk the expression of them. the timber was being neglected, there was no thinning and no planting. the old-fashioned farmhouses were being let fall into disrepair, and then replaced by parsimonious eaveless buildings; the very grazing in the park was let, and fallow-deer and red-deer were jostled by sheep and common mongrel cows. the question of the cows had galled him till he was driven to remonstrate strongly with his grandfather. there had never been much love lost between the pair, and on this occasion the young man found the old man strangely out of sympathy with suggestions of reform. "thank you," old lord blandamer had said; "i have heard all you have to say. you have eased your mind, and now you can go back to oxford in peace. i have managed fording for forty years, and feel myself perfectly competent to manage it for forty years more. i don't quite see what concern you have in the matter. what business is it of yours?" "you don't see what concern i have in it," said the reformer impetuously; "you don't know what business it is of mine? why, damage is being done here that will take a lifetime to repair." a man must be on good terms with his heir not to dislike the idea of making way for him, and the old lord flew into one of those paroxysms of rage which fell upon him more frequently in his later years. "now, look you," he said; "you need not trouble yourself any more about fording, nor think you will be so great a sufferer by my mismanagement. it is by no means certain that i shall ever burden you with the place at all." then the young man was angry in his turn. "don't threaten me, sir," he said sharply; "i am not a boy any longer to be cowed by rough words, so keep your threats for others. you would disgrace the family and disgrace yourself, if you left the property away from the title." "make your mind easy," said the other; "the property shall follow the title. get away, and let me hear no more, or you may find both left away from you." the words were lightly spoken, perhaps in mere petulance at being taken to task by a boy, perhaps in the exasperating pangs of gout; but they had a bitter sound, and sank deep into the heart of youth. the threat of the other possible heirs was new, and yet was not new to him. it seemed as if he had heard something of this before, though he could not remember where; it seemed as if there had always been some ill-defined, intangible suspicion in the air of fording to make him doubt, since he came to thinking years, whether the title ever really would be his. lord blandamer remembered these things well, as he walked his horse through the beech-leaves with westray's letter in his breast-pocket. he remembered how his grandfather's words had sent him about with a sad face, and how his grandmother had guessed the reason. he wondered how she had guessed it; but she too, perhaps, had heard these threats before, and so came at the cause more easily. yet when she had forced his confidence she had little comfort to give. he could see her now, a stately woman with cold blue eyes, still handsome, though she was near sixty. "since we are speaking of this matter," she said with chilling composure, "let us speak openly. i will tell you everything i know, which is nothing. your grandfather threatened me once, many years ago, as he has threatened you now, and we have never forgotten nor forgiven." she moved herself in her chair, and there came a little flush of red to her cheek. "it was about the time of your father's birth; we had quarrelled before, but this was our first serious quarrel, and the last. your father was different from me, you know, and from you; he never quarrelled, and he never knew this story. so far as i was concerned i took the responsibility of silence, and it was wisest so." she looked sterner than ever as she went on. "i have never heard or discovered anything more. i am not afraid of your grandfather's intentions. he has a regard for the name, and he means to leave all to you, who have every right, unless, indeed, it may be, a legal right. there is one more thing about which i was anxious long ago. you have heard about a portrait of your grandfather that was stolen from the gallery soon after your father's birth? suspicion fell upon no one in particular. of course, the stable door was locked after the horse was gone, and we had a night-watchman at fording for some time; but little stir was made, and i do not believe your grandfather ever put the matter in the hands of the police. it was a spiteful trick, he said; he would not pay whoever had done it the compliment of taking any trouble to recover the portrait. the picture was of himself; he could have another painted any day. "by whatever means that picture was removed, i have little doubt that your grandfather guessed what had become of it. does it still exist? was it stolen? or did he have it taken away to prevent its being stolen? we must remember that, though we are quite in the dark about these people, there is nothing to prevent their being shown over the house like any other strangers." then she drew herself up, and folded her hands in her lap, and he saw the great rings flashing on her white fingers. "that is all i know," she finished, "and now let us agree not to mention the subject again, unless one of us should discover anything more. the claim may have lapsed, or may have been compounded, or may never have existed; i think, anyhow, we may feel sure now that no move will be made in your grandfather's lifetime. my advice to you is not to quarrel with him; you had better spend your long vacations away from fording, and when you leave oxford you can travel." so the young man went out from fording, for a wandering that was to prove half as long as that of israel in the wilderness. he came home for a flying visit at wide intervals, but he kept up a steady correspondence with his grandmother as long as she lived. only once, and that in the last letter which he ever received from her, did she allude to the old distasteful discussion. "up to this very day," she wrote, "i have found out nothing; we may still hope that there is nothing to find out." in all those long years he consoled himself by the thought that he was bearing expatriation for the honour of the family, that he was absenting himself so that his grandfather might find the less temptation to drag the nebuly coat in the mire. to make a fetish of family was a tradition with blandamers, and the heir as he set out on his travels, with the romance of early youth about him, dedicated himself to the nebuly coat, with a vow to "serve and preserve" as faithfully as any ever taken by templar. last of all the old lord passed away. he never carried out his threat of disinheritance, but died intestate, and thus the grandson came to his own. the new lord blandamer was no longer young when he returned; years of wild travel had hardened his face, and made his heart self-reliant, but he came back as romantic as he went away. for nature, if she once endows man or woman with romance, gives them so rich a store of it as shall last them, life through, unto the end. in sickness or health, in poverty or riches, through middle age and old age, through loss of hair and loss of teeth, under wrinkled face and gouty limbs, under crow's-feet and double chins, under all the least romantic and most sordid malaisances of life, romance endures to the end. its price is altogether above rubies; it can never be taken away from those that have it, and those that have it not, can never acquire it for money, nor by the most utter toil--no, nor ever arrive at the very faintest comprehension of it. the new lord had come back to fording full of splendid purpose. he was tired of wandering; he would marry; he would settle down and enjoy his own; he would seek the good of the people, and make his great estates an example among landowners. and then within three weeks he had learned that there was a pretender to the throne, that in cullerne there was a visionary who claimed to be the very lord blandamer. he had had this wretched man pointed out to him once in the street--a broken-down fellow who was trailing the cognisance of all the blandamers in the mud, till the very boys called him old nebuly. was he to fight for land, and house, and title, to fight for everything, with a man like that? and yet it might come to fighting, for within a little time he knew that this was the heir who had been the intangible shadow of his grandmother's life and of his own; and that martin might stumble any day upon the proof that was lacking. and then death set a term to martin's hopes, and lord blandamer was free again. but not for long, for in a little while he heard of an old organist who had taken up martin's role--a meddlesome busybody who fished in troubled waters, for the trouble's sake. what had such a mean man as this to do with lands, and titles, and coats of arms? and yet this man was talking under his breath in cullerne of crimes, and clues, and retribution near at hand. and then death put a term to sharnall's talk, and lord blandamer was free again. free for a longer space, free this time finally for ever; and he married, and marriage set the seal on his security, and the heir was born, and the nebuly coat was safe. but now a new confuter had risen to balk him. was he fighting with dragon's spawn? were fresh enemies to spring up from the--the simile did not suit his mood, and he truncated it. was this young architect, whose very food and wages in cullerne were being paid for by the money that he, lord blandamer, saw fit to spend upon the church, indeed to be the avenger? was his own creature to turn and rend him? he smiled at the very irony of the thing, and then he brushed aside reflections on the past, and stifled even the beginnings of regret, if, indeed, any existed. he would look at the present, he would understand exactly how matters stood. lord blandamer came back to fording at nightfall, and spent the hour before dinner in his library. he wrote some business letters which could not be postponed, but after dinner read aloud to his wife. he had a pleasant and well-trained voice, and amused lady blandamer by reading from the "ingoldsby legends," a new series of which had recently appeared. whilst he read anastasia worked at some hangings, which had been left unfinished by the last lady blandamer. the old lord's wife had gone out very little, but passed her time for the most part with her gardens, and with curious needlework. for years she had been copying some moth-eaten fragments of stuart tapestry, and at her death left the work still uncompleted. the housekeeper had shown these half-finished things and explained what they were, and anastasia had asked lord blandamer whether it would be agreeable to him that she should go on with them. the idea pleased him, and so she plodded away evening by evening, very carefully and slowly, thinking often of the lonely old lady whose hands had last been busied with the same task. this grandmother of her husband seemed to have been the only relation with whom he had ever been on intimate terms, and anastasia's interest was quickened by an excellent portrait of her as a young girl by lawrence, which hung in the long gallery. could the old lady have revisited for once the scene of her labours, she would have had no reason to be dissatisfied with her successor. anastasia looked distinguished enough as she sat at her work-frame, with the skeins of coloured silks in her lap and the dark-brown hair waved on her high forehead; and a dress of a rich yellow velvet might have supported the illusion that a portrait of some bygone lady of the blandamers had stepped down out of its frame. that evening her instinct told her that something was amiss, in spite of all her husband's self-command. something very annoying must have happened among the grooms, gardeners, gamekeepers, or other dependents; he had been riding about to set the matter straight, and it was no doubt of a nature that he did not care to mention to her. chapter twenty two. westray passed a day of painful restlessness. he had laid his hand to a repugnant business, and the burden of it was too heavy for him to bear. he felt the same gnawing anxiety, that is experienced by one whom doctors have sentenced to a lethal operation. one man may bear himself more bravely in such circumstances than another, but by nature every man is a coward; and the knowledge that the hour is approaching, when the surgeon's knife shall introduce him to a final struggle of life and death cannot be done away. so it was with westray; he had undertaken a task for which he was not strong enough, and only high principle, and a sense of moral responsibility, kept him from panic and flight. he went to the church in the morning, and endeavoured to concentrate attention on his work, but the consciousness of what was before him would not be thrust aside. the foreman-mason saw that his master's thoughts were wandering, and noticed the drawn expression on his face. in the afternoon his restlessness increased, and he wandered listlessly through the streets and narrow entries of the town, till he found himself near nightfall at that place by the banks of the cull, where the organist had halted on the last evening of his life. he stood leaning over the iron railing, and looked at the soiled river, just as mr sharnall had looked. there were the dark-green tresses of duck-weed swaying to and fro in the shallow eddies, there was the sordid collection of broken and worthless objects that lay on the bottom, and he stared at them till the darkness covered them one by one, and only the whiteness of a broken dish still flickered under the water. then he crept back to his room as if he were a felon, and though he went early to bed, sleep refused to visit him till the day began to break. with daylight he fell into a troubled doze, and dreamt that he was in a witness-box before a crowded court. in the dock stood lord blandamer dressed in full peer's robes, and with a coronet on his head. the eyes of all were turned upon him, westray, with fierce enmity and contempt, and it was he, westray, that a stern-faced judge was sentencing, as a traducer and lying informer. then the people in the galleries stamped with their feet and howled against him in their rage; and waking with a start, he knew that it was the postman's sharp knock on the street-door, that had broken his slumber. the letter which he dreaded lay on the table when he came down. he felt an intense reluctance in opening it. he almost wondered that the handwriting was still the same; it was as if he had expected that the characters should be tremulous, or the ink itself blood-red. lord blandamer acknowledged mr westray's letter with thanks. he should certainly like to see the picture and the family papers of which mr westray spoke; would mr westray do him the favour of bringing the picture to fording? he apologised for putting him to so much trouble, but there was another picture in the gallery at fording, with which it might be interesting to compare the one recently discovered. he would send a carriage to meet any train; mr westray would no doubt find it more convenient to spend the night at fording. there was no expression of surprise, curiosity, indignation or alarm; nothing, in fact, except the utmost courtesy, a little more distant perhaps than usual, but not markedly so. westray had been unable to conjecture what would be the nature of lord blandamer's answer. he had thought of many possibilities, of the impostor's flight, of lavish offers of hush-money, of passionate appeals for mercy, of scornful and indignant denial. but in all his imaginings he had never imagined this. ever since he had sent his own letter, he had been doubtful of its wisdom, and yet he had not been able to think of any other course that he would have preferred. he knew that the step he had taken in warning the criminal was quixotic, and yet it seemed to him that lord blandamer had a certain right to see his own family portrait and papers, before they were used against him. he could not feel sorry that he had given the opportunity, though he had certainly hoped that lord blandamer would not avail himself of it. but go to fording he would not. that, at any rate, no fantastic refinement of fair play could demand of him. he knew his mind at least on this point; he would answer at once, and he got out a sheet of paper for his refusal. it was easy to write the number of his house, and the street, and cullerne, and the formal "my lord," which he used again for the address. but what then? what reason was he to give for his refusal? he could allege no business appointment or other serious engagement as an obstacle, for he himself had said that he was free for a week, and had offered lord blandamer to make an appointment on any day. he himself had offered an interview; to draw back now would be mean and paltry in the extreme. it was true that the more he thought of this meeting the more he shrank from it. but it could not be evaded now. it was, after all, only the easiest part of the task that he had set before him, only a prolusion to the tragedy that he would have to play to a finish. lord blandamer deserved, no doubt, all the evil that was to fall on him; but in the meanwhile he, westray, was incapable of refusing this small favour, asked by a man who was entirely at his mercy. then he wrote with a shrinking heart, but with yet another fixed purpose, that he would bring the picture to fording the next day. he preferred not to be met at the station; he would arrive some time during the afternoon, but could only stay an hour at the most, as he had business which would take him on to london the same evening. it was a fine autumn day on the morrow, and when the morning mists had cleared away, the sun came out with surprising warmth, and dried the dew on the lawns of many-gardened cullerne. towards mid-day westray set forth from his lodgings to go to the station, carrying under his arm the picture, lightly packed in lath, and having in his pocket those papers which had fallen out from the frame. he chose a route through back-streets, and walked quickly, but as he passed quandrill's, the local maker of guns and fishing-rods, a thought struck him. he stopped and entered the shop. "good-morning," he said to the gunsmith, who stood behind the counter; "have you any pistols? i want one small enough to carry in the pocket, but yet something more powerful than a toy." mr quandrill took off his spectacles. "ah," he said, tapping the counter with them meditatively. "let me see. mr westray, is it not, the architect at the minster?" "yes," westray answered. "i require a pistol for some experiments. it should carry a fairly heavy bullet." "oh, just so," the man said, with an air of some relief, as westray's coolness convinced him that he was not contemplating suicide. "just so, i see; some experiments. well, in that case, i suppose, you would not require any special facilities for loading again quickly, otherwise i should have recommended one of these," and he took up a weapon from the counter. "they are new-fangled things from america, revolving pistols they call them. you can fire them four times running, you see, as quick as you like," and he snapped the piece to show how well it worked. westray handled the pistol, and looked at the barrels. "yes," he said, "that will suit my purpose very well, though it is rather large to carry in the pocket." "oh, you want it for the pocket," the gunmaker said with renewed surprise in his tone. "yes; i told you that already. i may have to carry it about with me. still, i think this will do. could you kindly load it for me now?" "you are sure it's quite safe," said the gunmaker. "i ought to ask _you_ that," westray rejoined with a smile. "do you mean it may go off accidentally in my pocket?" "oh no, it's safe enough that way," said the gunmaker. "it won't go off unless you pull the trigger." and he loaded the four barrels, measuring out the powder and shot carefully, and ramming in the wads. "you'll be wanting more powder and shot than this, i suppose," he said. "very likely," rejoined the architect, "but i can call for that later." he found a heavy country fly waiting for him at lytchett, the little wayside station which was sometimes used by people going to fording. it is a seven-mile drive from the station to the house, but he was so occupied in his own reflections, that he was conscious of nothing till the carriage pulled up at the entrance of the park. here he stopped for a moment while the lodge-keeper was unfastening the bolt, and remembered afterwards that he had noticed the elaborate iron-work, and the nebuly coat which was set over the great gates. he was in the long avenue now, and he wished it had been longer, he wished that it might never end; and then the fly stopped again, and lord blandamer on horseback was speaking to him through the carriage window. there was a second's pause, while the two men looked each other directly in the eyes, and in that look all doubt on either side was ended. westray felt as if he had received a staggering blow as he came face to face with naked truth, and lord blandamer read westray's thoughts, and knew the extent of his discovery. lord blandamer was the first to speak. "i am glad to see you again," he said with perfect courtesy, "and am very much obliged to you for taking this trouble in bringing the picture." and he glanced at the crate that westray was steadying with his hand on the opposite seat. "i only regret that you would not let me send a carriage to lytchett." "thank you," said the architect; "on the present occasion i preferred to be entirely independent." his words were cold, and were meant to be cold, and yet as he looked at the other's gentle bearing, and the grave face in which sadness was a charm; he felt constrained to abate in part the effect of his own remark, and added somewhat awkwardly: "you see, i was uncertain about the trains." "i am riding back across the grass," lord blandamer said, "but shall be at the house before you;" and as he galloped off, westray knew that he rode exceedingly well. this meeting, he guessed, had been contrived to avoid the embarrassment of a more formal beginning. it was obvious that their terms of former friendship could no longer be maintained. nothing would have induced him to have shaken hands, and this lord blandamer must have known. as westray stepped into the hall through inigo jones' ionic portico, lord blandamer entered from a side-door. "you must be cold after your long drive. will you not take a biscuit and a glass of wine?" westray motioned away the refreshment which a footman offered him. "no, thank you," he said; "i will not take anything." it was impossible for him to eat or drink in this house, and yet again he softened his words by adding: "i had something to eat on the way." the architect's refusal was not lost upon lord blandamer. he had known before he spoke that his offer would not be accepted. "i am afraid it is useless to ask you to stop the night with us," he said; and westray had his rejoinder ready: "no; i must leave lytchett by the seven five train. i have ordered the fly to wait." he had named the last train available for london, and lord blandamer saw that his visitor had so arranged matters, that the interview could not be prolonged for more than an hour. "of course, you _could_ catch the night-mail at cullerne road," he said. "it is a very long drive, but i sometimes go that way to london myself." his words called suddenly to westray's recollection that night walk when the station lights of cullerne road were seen dimly through the fog, and the station-master's story that lord blandamer had travelled by the mail on the night of poor sharnall's death. he said nothing, but felt his resolution strengthened. "the gallery will be the most convenient place, perhaps, to unpack the picture," lord blandamer said; and westray at once assented, gathering from the other's manner that this would be a spot where no interruption need be feared. they went up some wide and shallow stairs, preceded by a footman, who carried the picture. "you need not wait," lord blandamer said to the man; "we can unpack it ourselves." when the wrappings were taken off, they stood the painting on the narrow shelf formed by the top of the wainscot which lined the gallery, and from the canvas the old lord surveyed them with penetrating light-grey eyes, exactly like the eyes of the grandson who stood before him. lord blandamer stepped back a little, and took a long look at the face of this man, who had been the terror of his childhood, who had darkened his middle life, who seemed now to have returned from the grave to ruin him. he knew himself to be in a desperate pass. here he must make the last stand, for the issue lay between him and westray. no one else had learned the secret. he understood and relied implicitly on westray's fantastic sense of honour. westray had written that he would "take no steps" till the ensuing monday, and lord blandamer was sure that no one would be told before that day, and that no one had been told yet. if westray could be silenced all was saved; if westray spoke, all was lost. if it had been a question of weapons, or of bodily strength, there was no doubt which way the struggle would have ended. westray knew this well now, and felt heartily ashamed of the pistol that was bulging the breast-pocket on the inside of his coat. if it had been a question of physical attack, he knew now that he would have never been given time, or opportunity for making use of his weapon. lord blandamer had travelled north and south, east and west; he had seen and done strange things; he had stood for his life in struggles whence only one could come out alive; but here was no question of flesh and blood--he had to face principles, those very principles on which he relied for respite; he had to face that integrity of westray which made persuasion or bribery alike impossible. he had never seen this picture before, and he looked at it intently for some minutes; but his attention was all the while concentrated on the man who stood beside him. this was his last chance--he could afford to make no mistake; and his soul, or whatever that thing may be called which is certainly not the body, was closing with westray's soul in a desperate struggle for mastery. westray was not seeing the picture for the first time, and after one glance he stood aloof. the interview was becoming even more painful than he had expected. he avoided looking lord blandamer in the face, yet presently, at a slight movement, turned and met his eye. "yes, it is my grandfather," said the other. there was nothing in the words, and yet it seemed to westray as if some terrible confidence was being thrust upon him against his will; as if lord blandamer had abandoned any attempt to mislead, and was tacitly avowing all that might be charged against him. the architect began to feel that he was now regarded as a personal enemy, though he had never so considered himself. it was true that picture and papers had fallen into his hands, but he knew that a sense of duty was the only motive of any action that he might be taking. "you promised, i think, to show me some papers," lord blandamer said. most painfully westray handed them over; his knowledge of their contents made it seem that he was offering a deliberate insult. he wished fervently that he never had made any proposal for this meeting; he ought to have given everything to the proper authorities, and have let the blow fall as it would. such an interview could only end in bitterness: its present result was that here in lord blandamer's own house, he, westray, was presenting him with proofs of his father's illegitimacy, with proofs that he had no right to this house--no, nor to anything else. it was a bitter moment for lord blandamer to find such information in the possession of a younger man; but, if there was more colour in his face than usual, his self-command stood the test, and he thrust resentment aside. there was no time to say or do useless things, there was no time for feeling; all his attention must be concentrated on the man before him. he stood still, seeming to examine the papers closely, and, as a matter of fact, he did take note of the name, the place, and the date, that so many careful searchings had failed ever to find. but all the while he was resolutely considering the next move, and giving westray time to think and feel. when he looked up, their eyes met again, and this time it was westray that coloured. "i suppose you have verified these certificates?" lord blandamer asked very quietly. "yes," westray said, and lord blandamer gave them back to him without a word, and walked slowly away down the gallery. westray crushed the papers into his pocket where most of the room was taken up by the pistol; he was glad to get them out of his sight; he could not bear to hold them. it was as if a beaten fighter had given up his sword. with these papers lord blandamer seemed to resign into his adversary's hands everything of which he stood possessed, his lands, his life, the honour of his house. he made no defence, no denial, no resistance, least of all any appeal. westray was left master of the situation, and must do whatever he thought fit. this fact was clearer to him now than it had ever been before, the secret was his alone; with him rested the responsibility of making it public. he stood dumb before the picture, from which the old lord looked at him with penetrating eyes. he had nothing to say; he could not go after lord blandamer; he wondered whether this was indeed to be the end of the interview, and turned sick at the thought of the next step that must be taken. at the distance of a few yards lord blandamer paused, and looked round, and westray understood that he was being invited, or commanded, to follow. they stopped opposite the portrait of a lady, but it was the frame to which lord blandamer called attention by laying his hand on it. "this was my grandmother," he said; "they were companion pictures. they are the same size, the moulding on the frame is the same, an interlacing fillet, and the coat of arms is in the same place. you see?" he added, finding westray still silent. westray was obliged to meet his look once more. "i see," he said, most reluctantly. he knew now, that the unusual moulding and the size of the picture that hung in miss joliffe's house, must have revealed its identity long ago to the man who stood before him; that during all those visits in which plans for the church had been examined and discussed, lord blandamer must have known what lay hid under the flowers, must have known that the green wriggling caterpillar was but a bar of the nebuly coat. confidences were being forced upon westray that he could not forget, and could not reveal. he longed to cry out, "for god's sake, do not tell me these things; do not give me this evidence against yourself!" there was another short pause, and then lord blandamer turned. he seemed to expect westray to turn with him, and they walked back over the soft carpet down the gallery in a silence that might be heard. the air was thick with doom; westray felt as if he were stifling. he had lost mental control, his thoughts were swallowed up in a terrible chaos. only one reflection stood out, the sense of undivided responsibility. it was not as if he were adding a link, as in duty bound, to a long chain of other evidence: the whole matter was at rest; to set it in motion again would be his sole act, his act alone. there was a refrain ringing in his ears, a verse that he had heard read a few sundays before in cullerne church, "am i god, to kill and make alive? am i god, to kill and make alive?" yet duty commanded him to go forward, and go forward he must, though the result was certain: he would be playing the part of executioner. the man whose fate he must seal was keeping pace with him quietly, step by step. if he could only have a few moments to himself, he might clear his distracted thoughts. he paused before some other picture, feigning to examine it, but lord blandamer paused also, and looked at him. he knew lord blandamer's eye was upon him, though he refused to return the look. it seemed a mere act of courtesy on lord blandamer's part to stop. mr westray might be specially interested in some of the pictures, and, if any information was required, it was the part of the host to see that it was forthcoming. westray stopped again once or twice, but always with the same result. he did not know whether he was looking at portraits or landscapes, though he was vaguely aware that half-way down the gallery, there stood on the floor what seemed to be an unfinished picture, with its face turned to the wall. except when westray stopped, lord blandamer looked neither to the right nor to the left; he walked with his hands folded lightly behind him, and with his eyes upon the ground, yet did not feign to have his thoughts disengaged. his companion shrank from any attempt to understand or fathom what those thoughts could be, but admired, against his will, the contained and resolute bearing. westray felt as a child beside a giant, yet had no doubt as to his own duty, or that he was going to do it. but how hard it was! why had he been so foolish as to meddle with the picture? why had he read papers that did not belong to him? why, above all, had he come down to fording to have his suspicions confirmed? what business was it of his to ferret out these things? he felt all the unutterable aversion of an upright mind for playing the part of a detective; all the sovereign contempt even for such petty meanness as allows one person to examine the handwriting or postmark of letters addressed to another. yet he knew this thing, and he alone; he could not do away with this horrible knowledge. the end of the gallery was reached; they turned with one accord and paced slowly, silently back, and the time was slipping away fast. it was impossible for westray to consider anything _now_, but he had taken his decision before he came to fording; he must go through with it; there was no escape for _him_ any more than for lord blandamer. he would keep his word. on monday, the day he had mentioned, he would speak, and once begun, the matter would pass out of his hands. but how was he to tell this to the man who was walking beside him, and silently waiting for his sentence? he could not leave him in suspense; to do so would be cowardice and cruelty. he must make his intention clear, but how? in what form of words? there was no time to think; already they were repassing that canvas which stood with its face to the wall. the suspense, the impenetrable silence, was telling upon westray; he tried again to rearrange his thoughts, but they were centred only on lord blandamer. how calm he seemed, with his hands folded behind him, and never a finger twitching! what did _he_ mean to do--to fly, or kill himself, or stand his ground and take his trial on a last chance? it would be a celebrated trial. hateful and inevitable details occurred to westray's imagination: the crowded, curious court as he saw it in his dream, with lord blandamer in the dock, and this last thought sickened him. his own place would be in the witness-box. incidents that he wished to forget would be recalled, discussed, dwelt on; he would have to search his memory for them, narrate them, swear to them. but this was not all. he would have to give an account of this very afternoon's work. it could not be hushed up. every servant in the house would know how he had come to fording with a picture. he heard himself cross-examined as to "this very remarkable interview." what account was he to give of it? what a betrayal of confidence it would be to give _any_ account. yet he must, and his evidence would be given under the eyes of lord blandamer in the dock. lord blandamer would be in the dock watching him. it was unbearable, impossible; rather than this he would fly himself, he would use the pistol that bulged his pocket against his own life. lord blandamer had noted westray's nervous movements, his glances to right and left, as though seeking some way of escape; he saw the clenched hands, and the look of distress as they paced to and fro. he knew that each pause before a picture was an attempt to shake him off, but he would not be shaken off; westray was feeling the grip, and must not have a moment's breathing space. he could tell exactly how the minutes were passing, he knew what to listen for, and could catch the distant sound of the stable clock striking the quarters. they were back at the end of the gallery. there was no time to pace it again; westray must go now if he was to catch his train. they stopped opposite the old lord's portrait; the silence wrapped westray round, as the white fog had wrapped him round that night on his way to cullerne road. he wanted to speak, but his brain was confused, his throat was dry; he dreaded the sound of his own voice. lord blandamer took out his watch. "i have no wish to hurry you, mr westray," he said, "but your train leaves lytchett in little over an hour. it will take you nearly that time to drive to the station. may i help you to repack this picture?" his voice was clear, level, and courteous, as on the day when westray had first met him at bellevue lodge. the silence was broken, and westray found himself speaking quickly in answer: "you invited me to stay here for the night. i have changed my mind, and will accept your offer, if i may." he hesitated for a moment, and then went on: "i shall be thankful if you will keep the picture and these documents. i see now that i have no business with them." he took the crumpled papers from his pocket, and held them out without looking up. then silence fell on them again, and westray's heart stood still; till after a second that seemed an eternity lord blandamer took the papers with a short "i thank you," and walked a little way further, to the end of the gallery. the architect leant against the side of a window opposite which he found himself, and, looking out without seeing anything, presently heard lord blandamer tell a servant that mr westray would stop the night, and that wine was to be brought them in the gallery. in a few minutes the man came back with a decanter on a salver, and lord blandamer filled glasses for westray, and himself. he felt probably that both needed something of the kind, but to the other more was implied. westray remembered that an hour ago he had refused to eat or drink under this roof. an hour ago--how his mood had changed in that short time! how he had flung duty and principle to the winds! surely this glass of red wine was a very sacrament of the devil, which made him a partner of iniquity. as he raised the glass to his lips a slanting sunbeam shot through the window, and made the wine glow red as blood. the drinkers paused glass in hand, and glancing up saw the red sun setting behind the trees in the park. then the old lord's picture caught the evening light, the green bars of the nebuly coat danced before westray's eyes, till they seemed to live, to be again three wriggling caterpillars, and the penetrating grey eyes looked out from the canvas as if they were watching the enactment of this final scene. lord blandamer pledged him in a bumper, and westray answered without hesitation, for he had given his allegiance, and would have drunk poison in token that there was to be no turning back now. an engagement kept lady blandamer from home that evening. lord blandamer had intended to accompany her, but afterwards told her that mr westray was coming on important business, and so she went alone. only lord blandamer and westray sat down to dinner, and some subtle change of manner made the architect conscious that for the first time since their acquaintance, his host was treating him as a real equal. lord blandamer maintained a flow of easy and interesting conversation, yet never approached the subject of architecture even near enough to seem to be avoiding it. after dinner he took westray to the library, where he showed him some old books, and used all his art to entertain him and set him at his ease. westray was soothed for a moment by the other's manner, and did his best to respond to the courtesy shown him; but everything had lost its savour, and he knew that black care was only waiting for him to be alone, to make herself once more mistress of his being. a wind which had risen after sunset began to blow near bed-time with unusual violence. the sudden gusts struck the library windows till they rattled again, and puffs of smoke came out from the fireplace into the room. "i shall sit up for lady blandamer," said the host, "but i dare say you will not be sorry to turn in;" and westray, looking at his watch, saw that it wanted but ten minutes of midnight. in the hall, and on the staircase, as they went up, the wind blowing with cold rushes made itself felt still more strongly. "it is a wild night," lord blandamer said, as he stopped for a moment before a barometer, "but i suspect that there is yet worse to come; the glass has fallen in an extraordinary way. i hope you have left all snug with the tower at cullerne; this wind will not spare any weak places." "i don't think it should do any mischief at saint sepulchre's," westray answered, half unconsciously. it seemed as though he could not concentrate his thought even upon his work. his bedroom was large, and chilly in spite of a bright fire. he locked the door, and drawing an easy-chair before the hearth, sat a long while in thought. it was the first time in his life that he had with deliberation acted against his convictions, and there followed the reaction and remorse inseparable from such conditions. is there any depression so deep as this? is there any night so dark as this first eclipse of the soul, this _first_ conscious stilling of the instinct for right? he had conspired to obscure truth, he had made himself partaker in another man's wrong-doing, and, as the result, he had lost his moral foothold, his self-respect, his self-reliance. it was true that, even if he could, he would not have changed his decision now, yet the weight of a guilty secret, that he must keep all his life long, pressed heavily upon him. something must be done to lighten this weight; he must take some action that would ease the galling of his thoughts. he was in that broken mood for which the middle ages offered the cloister as a remedy; he felt the urgent need of sacrifice and abnegation to purge him. and then he knew the sacrifice that he must make: he must give up his work at cullerne. he was thankful to find that there was still enough of conscience left to him to tell him this. he could not any longer be occupied on work for which the money was being found by this man. he would give up his post at cullerne, even if it meant giving up his connection with his employers, even if it meant the giving up of his livelihood. he felt as if england itself were not large enough to hold him and lord blandamer. he must never more see the associate of his guilt; he dreaded meeting his eyes again, lest the other's will should constrain his will to further wrong. he would write to resign his work the very next day; that would be an active sacrifice, a definite mark from which he might begin a painful retracing of the way, a turning-point from which he might hope in time to recover some measure of self-respect and peace of mind. he would resign his work at cullerne the very next day; and then a wilder gust of wind buffeted the windows of his room, and he thought of the scaffolding on saint sepulchre's tower. what a terrible night it was! would the thin bows of the tower arches live through such a night, with the weight of the great tower rocking over them? no, he could not resign to-morrow. it would be deserting his post. he must stand by till the tower was safe, _that_ was his first duty. after that he would give up his post at once. later on he went to bed, and in those dark watches of the night, that are not kept by reason, there swept over him thoughts wilder than the wind outside. he had made himself sponsor for lord blandamer, he had assumed the burden of the other's crime. it was he that was branded with the mark of cain, and he must hide it in silence from the eyes of all men. he must fly from cullerne, and walk alone with his burden for the rest of his life, a scapegoat in the isolation of the wilderness. in sleep the terror that walketh in darkness brooded heavily on him. he was in the church of saint sepulchre, and blood dripped on him from the organ-loft. then as he looked up to find out whence it came he saw the four tower arches falling to grind him to powder, and leapt up in his bed, and struck a light to make sure that there were no red patches on him. with daylight he grew calmer. the wild visions vanished, but the cold facts remained: he was sunk in his own esteem, he had forced himself into an evil secret which was no concern of his, and now he must keep it for ever. westray found lady blandamer in the breakfast-room. lord blandamer had met her in the hall on her return the night before, and though he was pale, she knew before he had spoken half a dozen words, that the cloud of anxiety which had hung heavily on him for the last few days was past. he told her that mr westray had come over on business, and, in view of the storm that was raging, had been persuaded to remain for the night. the architect had brought with him a picture which he had accidentally come across, a portrait of the old lord blandamer which had been missing for many years from fording. it was very satisfactory that it had been recovered; they were under a great obligation to mr westray for the trouble which he had taken in the matter. in the events of the preceding days westray had almost forgotten lady blandamer's existence, and since the discovery of the picture, if her image presented itself to his mind, it had been as that of a deeply wronged and suffering woman. but this morning she appeared with a look of radiant content that amazed him, and made him shudder as he thought how near he had been only a day before to plunging her into the abyss. the more careful nurture of the year that had passed since her marriage, had added softness to her face and figure, without detracting from the refinement of expression that had always marked her. he knew that she was in her own place, and wondered now that the distinction of her manner had not led him sooner to the truth of her birth. she looked pleased to meet him, and shook hands with a frank smile that acknowledged their former relations, without any trace of embarrassment. it seemed incredible that she should ever have brought him up his meals and letters. she made a polite reference to his having restored to them an interesting family picture, and finding him unexpectedly embarrassed, changed the subject by asking him what he thought of her own portrait. "i think you must have seen it yesterday," she went on, as he appeared not to understand. "it has only just come home, and is standing on the floor in the long gallery." lord blandamer glanced at the architect, and answered for him that mr westray had not seen it. then he explained with a composure that shed a calm through the room: "it was turned to the wall. it is a pity to show it unhung, and without a frame. we must get it framed at once, and decide on a position for it. i think we shall have to shift several paintings in the gallery." he talked of snyders and wouverman, and westray made some show of attention, but could only think of the unframed picture standing on the ground, which had helped to measure the passing of time in the terrible interview of yesterday. he guessed now that lord blandamer had himself turned the picture with its face to the wall, and in doing so had deliberately abandoned a weapon that might have served him well in the struggle. lord blandamer must have deliberately foregone the aid of recollections such as anastasia's portrait would have called up in his antagonist's mind. "non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis." westray's haggard air had not escaped his host's notice. the architect looked as if he had spent the night in a haunted room, and lord blandamer was not surprised, knowing that the other's scruples had died hard, and were not likely to lie quiet in their graves. he thought it better that the short time which remained before westray's departure should be spent out of the house, and proposed a stroll in the grounds. the gardener reported, he said, that last night's gale had done considerable damage to the trees. the top of the cedar on the south lawn had been broken short off. lady blandamer begged that she might accompany them, and as they walked down the terrace steps into the garden a nurse brought to her the baby heir. "the gale must have been a cyclone," lord blandamer said. "it has passed away as suddenly as it arose." the morning was indeed still and sunshiny, and seemed more beautiful by contrast with the turmoil of the previous night. the air was clear and cold after the rain, but paths and lawns were strewn with broken sticks and boughs, and carpeted with prematurely fallen leaves. lord blandamer described the improvements that he was making or projecting, and pointed out the old fishponds which were to be restocked, the bowling-green and the ladies' garden arranged on an old-world plan by his grandmother, and maintained unchanged since her death. he had received an immense service from westray, and he would not accept it ungraciously or make little of it. in taking the architect round the place, in showing this place that his ancestors had possessed for so many generations, in talking of his plans for a future that had only so recently become assured, he was in a manner conveying his thanks, and westray knew it. lady blandamer was concerned for westray. she saw that he was downcast, and ill at ease, and in her happiness that the cloud had passed from her husband, she wanted everyone to be happy with her. so, as they were returning to the house, she began, in the kindness of her heart, to talk of cullerne minster. she had a great longing, she said, to see the old church again. she should so much enjoy it if mr westray would some day show her over it. would he take much longer in the restorations? they were in an alley too narrow for three to walk abreast. lord blandamer had fallen behind, but was within earshot. westray answered quickly, without knowing what he was going to say. he was not sure about the restorations--that was, they certainly were not finished; in fact, they would take some time longer, but he would not be there, he believed, to superintend them. that was to say, he was giving up his present appointment. he broke off, and lady blandamer knew that she had again selected an unfortunate subject. she dropped it, and hoped he would let them know when he was next at leisure, and come for a longer visit. "i am afraid it will not be in my power to do so," westray said; and then, feeling that he had given a curt and ungracious answer to a kindly-meant invitation, turned to her and explained with unmistakable sincerity that he was giving up his connection with farquhar and farquhar. this subject also was not to be pursued, so she only said that she was sorry, and her eyes confirmed her words. lord blandamer was pained at what he had heard. he knew farquhar and farquhar, and knew something of westray's position and prospects--that he had a reasonable income, and a promising future with the firm. this resolve must be quite sudden, a result of yesterday's interview. westray was being driven out into the wilderness like a scapegoat with another man's guilt on his head. the architect was young and inexperienced. lord blandamer wished he could talk with him quietly. he understood that westray might find it impossible to go on with the restoration at cullerne, where all was being done at lord blandamer's expense. but why sever his connection with a leading firm? why not plead ill-health, nervous breakdown, those doctor's orders which have opened a way of escape from impasses of the mind as well as of the body? an archaeologic tour in spain, a yachting cruise in the mediterranean, a winter in egypt--all these things would be to westray's taste; the blameless herb nepenthe might anywhere be found growing by the wayside. he must amuse himself, and forget. he wished he could _assure_ westray that he would forget, or grow used to remembering; that time heals wounds of conscience as surely as it heals heart-wounds and flesh-wounds; that remorse is the least permanent of sentiments. but then westray might not yet wish to forget. he had run full counter to his principles. it might be that he was resolved to take the consequences, and wear them like a hair-shirt, as the only means of recovering his self-esteem. no; whatever penance, voluntary or involuntary, westray might undergo, lord blandamer could only look on in silence. his object had been gained. if westray felt it necessary to pay the price, he must be let pay it. lord blandamer could neither inquire nor remonstrate. he could offer no compensation, because no compensation would be accepted. the little party were nearing the house when a servant met them. "there is a man come over from cullerne, my lord," he said. "he is anxious to see mr westray at once on important business." "show him into my sitting-room, and say that mr westray will be with him immediately." westray met lord blandamer in the hall a few minutes later. "i am sorry to say there is bad news from cullerne," the architect said hurriedly. "last night's gale has strained and shaken the tower severely. a very serious movement is taking place. i must get back at once." "do, by all means. a carriage is at the door. you can catch the train at lytchett, and be in cullerne by mid-day." the episode was a relief to lord blandamer. the architect's attention was evidently absorbed in the tower. it might be that he had already found the blameless herb growing by the wayside. the nebuly coat shone on the panel of the carriage-door. lady blandamer had noticed that her husband had been paying westray special attention. he was invariably courteous, but he had treated this guest as he treated few others. yet now, at the last moment, he had fallen silent; he was standing, she fancied, aloof. he held his hands behind him, and the attitude seemed to her to have some significance. but on lord blandamer's part it was a mark of consideration. there had been no shaking of hands up to the present; he was anxious not to force westray to take his hand by offering it before his wife and the servants. lady blandamer felt that there was something going on which she did not understand, but she took leave of westray with special kindness. she did not directly mention the picture, but said how much they were obliged to him, and glanced for confirmation at lord blandamer. he looked at westray, and said with deliberation: "i trust mr westray knows how fully i appreciate his generosity and courtesy." there was a moment's pause, and then westray offered his hand. lord blandamer shook it cordially, and their eyes met for the last time. chapter twenty three. on the afternoon of the same day lord blandamer was himself in cullerne. he went to the office of mr martelet, solicitor by prescriptive right to the family at fording, and spent an hour closeted with the principal. the house which the solicitor used for offices, was a derelict residence at the bottom of the town. it still had in front of it an extinguisher for links, and a lamp-bracket over the door of wasted iron scroll-work. it was a dingy place, but mr martelet had a famous county connection, and rumour said that more important family business was done here even than in carisbury itself. lord blandamer sat behind the dusty windows. "i think i quite understand the nature of the codicil," the solicitor said. "i will have a draft forwarded to your lordship to-morrow." "no, no; it is short enough. let us finish with it now," said his client. "there is no time like the present. it can be witnessed here. your head clerk is discreet, is he not?" "mr simpkin has been with me thirty years," the solicitor said deprecatingly, "and i have had no reason to doubt his discretion hitherto." the sun was low when lord blandamer left mr martelet's office. he walked down the winding street that led to the market-place, with his long shadow going before him on the pavement. above the houses in the near distance stood up the great tower of saint sepulchre's, pink-red in the sunset rays. what a dying place was cullerne! how empty were the streets! the streets were certainly strangely empty. he had never seen them so deserted. there was a silence of the grave over all. he took out his watch. the little place is gone to tea, he thought, and walked on with a light heart, and more at his ease than he had ever felt before in his life. he came round a bend in the street, and suddenly saw a great crowd before him, between him and the market-place over which the minster church watched, and knew that something must be happening, that had drawn the people from the other parts of the town. as he came nearer it seemed as if the whole population was there collected. conspicuous was pompous canon parkyn, and by him stood mrs parkyn, and tall and sloping-shouldered mr noot. the sleek dissenting minister was there, and the jovial, round-faced catholic priest. there stood joliffe, the pork-butcher, in shirt-sleeves and white apron in the middle of the road; and there stood joliffe's wife and daughters, piled up on the steps of the shop, and craning their necks towards the market-place. the postmaster and his clerk and two letter-carriers had come out from the post-office. all the young ladies and young gentlemen from rose and storey's establishment were herded in front of their great glittering shop-window, and among them shone the fair curls of mr storey, the junior partner, himself. a little lower down was a group of masons and men employed on the restorations, and near them clerk janaway leant on his stick. many of these people lord blandamer knew well by sight, and there was beside a great throng of common folk, but none took any notice of him. there was something very strange about the crowd. everyone was looking towards the market-place, and everyone's face was upturned as if they were watching a flight of birds. the square was empty, and no one attempted to advance further into it; nay, most stood in an alert attitude, as if prepared to run the other way. yet all remained spellbound, looking up, with their heads turned towards the market-place, over which watched the minster church. there was no shouting, nor laughter, nor chatter; only the agitated murmur of a multitude of people speaking under their breath. the single person that moved was a waggoner. he was trying to get his team and cart up the street, away from the market-place, but made slow progress, for the crowd was too absorbed to give him room. lord blandamer spoke to the man, and asked him what was happening. the waggoner stared for a moment as if dazed; then recognised his questioner, and said quickly: "don't go on, my lord! for god's sake, don't go on; the tower's coming down." then the spell that bound all the others fell on lord blandamer too. his eyes were drawn by an awful attraction to the great tower that watched over the market-place. the buttresses with their broad set-offs, the double belfry windows with their pierced screens and stately perpendicular tracery, the open battlemented parapet, and clustered groups of soaring pinnacles, shone pink and mellow in the evening sun. they were as fair and wonderful as on that day when abbot vinnicomb first looked upon his finished work, and praised god that it was good. but on this still autumn evening there was something terribly amiss with the tower, in spite of all brave appearances. the jackdaws knew it, and whirled in a mad chattering cloud round their old home, with wings flashing and changing in the low sunlight. and on the west side, the side nearest the market-place, there oozed out from a hundred joints a thin white dust that fell down into the churchyard like the spray of some lofty swiss cascade. it was the very death-sweat of a giant in his agony, the mortar that was being ground out in powder from the courses of collapsing masonry. to lord blandamer it seemed like the sand running through an hour-glass. then the crowd gave a groan like a single man. one of the gargoyles at the corner, under the parapet, a demon figure that had jutted grinning over the churchyard for three centuries, broke loose and fell crashing on to the gravestones below. there was silence for a minute, and then the murmurings of the onlookers began again. everyone spoke in short, breathless sentences, as though they feared the final crash might come before they could finish. churchwarden joliffe, with pauses of expectation, muttered about a "judgment in our midst." the rector, in joliffe's pauses, seemed trying to confute him by some reference to "those thirteen upon whom the tower of siloam fell and slew them." an old charwoman whom miss joliffe sometimes employed wrung her hands with an "ah! poor dear--poor dear!" the catholic priest was reciting something in a low tone, and crossing himself at intervals. lord blandamer, who stood near, caught a word or two of the commendatory prayer for the dying, the "_proficiscere_," and "_liliata rutilantium_," that showed how abbot vinnicomb's tower lived in the hearts of those that abode under its shadow. and all the while the white dust kept pouring out of the side of the wounded fabric; the sands of the hour-glass were running down apace. the foreman of the masons saw lord blandamer, and made his way to him. "last night's gale did it, my lord," he said; "we knew 'twas touch and go when we came this morning. mr westray's been up the tower since mid-day to see if there was anything that could be done, but twenty minutes ago he came sharp into the belfry and called to us, `get out of it, lads--get out quick for your lives; it's all over now.' it's widening out at bottom; you can see how the base wall's moved and forced up the graves on the north side." and he pointed to a shapeless heap of turf and gravestones and churchyard mould against the base of the tower. "where is mr westray?" lord blandamer said. "ask him to speak to me for a minute." he looked round about for the architect; he wondered now that he had not seen him among the crowd. the people standing near had listened to lord blandamer's words. they of cullerne looked on the master of fording as being almost omnipotent. if he could not command the tower, like joshua's sun in ajalon, to stand still forthwith and not fall down, yet he had no doubt some sage scheme to suggest to the architect whereby the great disaster might be averted. where was the architect? they questioned impatiently. why was he not at hand when lord blandamer wanted him? where was he? and in a moment westray's name was on all lips. and just then was heard a voice from the tower, calling out through the louvres of the belfry windows, very clear and distinct for all it was so high up, and for all the chatter of the jackdaws. it was westray's voice: "i am shut up in the belfry," it called; "the door is jammed. for god's sake! someone bring a crowbar, and break in the door!" there was despair in the words, that sent a thrill of horror through those that heard them. the crowd stared at one another. the foreman-mason wiped the sweat off his brow; he was thinking of his wife and children. then the catholic priest stepped out. "i will go," he said; "i have no one depending on me." lord blandamer's thoughts had been elsewhere; he woke from his reverie at the priest's words. "nonsense!" said he; "i am younger than you, and know the staircase. give me a lever." one of the builder's men handed him a lever with a sheepish air. lord blandamer took it, and ran quickly towards the minster. the foreman-mason called after him: "there is only one door open, my lord--a little door by the organ." "yes, i know the door," lord blandamer shouted, as he disappeared round the church. a few minutes later he had forced open the belfry door. he pulled it back towards him, and stood behind it on the steps higher up, leaving the staircase below clear for westray's escape. the eyes of the two men did not meet, for lord blandamer was hidden by the door; but westray was much overcome as he thanked the other for rescuing him. "run for your life!" was all lord blandamer said; "you are not saved yet." the younger man dashed headlong down the steps, and then lord blandamer pushed the door to, and followed with as little haste or excitement as if he had been coming down from one of his many inspections of the restoration work. as westray ran through the great church, he had to make his way through a heap of mortar and debris that lay upon the pavement. the face of the wall over the south transept arch had come away, and in its fall had broken through the floor into the vaults below. above his head that baleful old crack, like a black lightning-flash, had widened into a cavernous fissure. the church was full of dread voices, of strange moanings and groanings, as if the spirits of all the monks departed were wailing for the destruction of abbot vinnicomb's tower. there was a dull rumbling of rending stone and crashing timbers, but over all the architect heard the cry of the crossing-arches: "the arch never sleeps, never sleeps. they have bound upon us a burden too heavy to be borne; we are shifting it. the arch never sleeps." outside, the people in the market-place held their breath, and the stream of white dust still poured out of the side of the wounded tower. it was six o'clock; the four quarters sounded, and the hour struck. before the last stroke had died away westray ran out across the square, but the people waited to cheer until lord blandamer should be safe too. the chimes began "bermondsey" as clearly and cheerfully as on a thousand other bright and sunny evenings. and then the melody was broken. there was a jangle of sound, a deep groan from taylor john, and a shrill cry from beata maria, a roar as of cannon, a shock as of an earthquake, and a cloud of white dust hid from the spectators the ruin of the fallen tower: epilogue. on the same evening lieutenant ennefer, r.n., sailed down channel in the corvette _solebay_, bound for the china station. he was engaged to the second miss bulteel, and turned his glass on the old town where his lady dwelt as he passed by. it was then he logged that cullerne tower was not to be seen, though the air was clear and the ship but six miles from shore. he rubbed his glass, and called some other officers to verify the absence of the ancient seamark, but all they could make out was a white cloud, that might be smoke or dust or mist hanging over the town. it must be mist, they said; some unusual atmospheric condition must have rendered the tower invisible. it was not for many months afterwards that lieutenant ennefer heard of the catastrophe, and when he came up channel again on his return four years later, there was the old seamark clear once more, whiter a little, but still the same old tower. it had been rebuilt at the sole charge of lady blandamer, and in the basement of it was a brass plate to the memory of horatio sebastian fynes, lord blandamer, who had lost his own life in that place whilst engaged in the rescue of others. the rebuilding was entrusted to mr edward westray, whom lord blandamer, by codicil dictated only a few hours before his death, had left co-trustee with lady blandamer, and guardian of the infant heir. the cathedrals of great britain [illustration york minster.] the cathedrals of great britain _their history and architecture_ by p.h. ditchfield, m.a., f.s.a. _fellow of the royal historical society, rector of barkham_ with numerous illustrations by herbert railton, j.a. symington, h.m. james, h. crickmore, etc. 1902 london: j.m. dent & company philadelphia: j.b. lippincott coy. _all rights reserved_ preface in this volume i have attempted to give an architectural description of all the cathedral churches of england, wales, and scotland, together with a brief history of each see. in order to include any adequate account of each church and bishopric in one volume of portable size, which may be of use to visitors in their travels, much compression has been necessary, but it is hoped that nothing of importance has been omitted which might be useful to those who would read aright the architectural history of our great churches. on account of their immense importance in the history of gothic art, it has been thought well to include in this volume some account of the churches of westminster and beverley. at the close of each history of a cathedral will be found a record of the principal building dates and dimensions, and also a brief account of the chief places and churches of interest in the city or neighbourhood which it is advisable to visit. i desire to express my grateful thanks to all who have kindly assisted in the preparation of this work, to the deans and canons-in-residence who have often guided me by their counsel during my study of their cathedrals, and also to the vergers who have readily afforded me much valuable help. more especially do i wish to thank the deans of lincoln, ely, chester and gloucester, canon tristram of durham, bishop anson of lichfield, and archdeacon richardson of southwell, for their courtesy and kindly interest. i have also to record my obligations to the work of many previous writers. the works of freeman, rickman, britton, willis, winkle, and the diocesan histories published by s.p.c.k. have been consulted, as well as the special monographs on each cathedral, which are too numerous to mention. prior's _gothic art_ has been of the greatest possible assistance, addis's _scottish cathedrals and abbeys_, and also the very valuable and indispensable handbooks published by the late mr. john murray. i have found the volumes of bell's cathedral series most useful when visiting the buildings of which they treat, and messrs. isbister's volumes written by the deans of our cathedrals contain picturesque and attractive accounts of the historic buildings. to all these works i desire to acknowledge my great indebtedness. and lastly i have to record my grateful thanks to the artists who have enriched these pages with their charming drawings, and to mr. dent, the publisher of this work, for much encouragement, valuable advice, and able direction, without which this volume would have lacked whatever of merit it may possess. p.h. ditchfield. barkham rectory, _september 8, 1902_. contents page the architecture of the cathedrals of great britain 1 st. paul's 8 westminster 35 rochester 57 canterbury 68 winchester 85 chichester 96 salisbury 108 oxford 125 bristol 138 wells 149 bath 161 exeter 164 truro 177 gloucester 178 hereford 204 worcester 216 lichfield 230 chester 248 liverpool 263 manchester 264 carlisle 272 newcastle 282 durham 283 ripon 297 york 309 beverley 327 wakefield 333 lincoln 337 southwell 351 peterborough 360 ely 377 norwich 393 st. alban's 409 st. asaph's 423 bangor 426 llandaff 429 st. david's 432 glasgow 439 iona 441 brechin 442 aberdeen 443 dunblane 444 dunkeld 445 st. andrew's 446 st. giles', edinburgh 447 kirkwall 448 glossary of architectural terms 450 list of illustrations page york minster _frontispiece_ st. paul's from cheapside 11 the west front 23 the nave from the choir 28 woodwork, south choir aisle 29 johnson's statue 31 dean's yard, westminster, in 1730 37 the north front 40 poets' corner 43 henry v.'s chantry 47 interior from chapel of st. john 51 rochester cathedral 59 canterbury cathedral 71 tomb of the black prince 78 the crypt 80 winchester cathedral 89 west front 93 chichester cathedral 99 the presbytery 105 salisbury cathedral 111 strengthening arches, east transepts 116 oxford cathedral 129 the interior 133 bristol cathedral, the central tower 143 wells cathedral 153 entrance to crypt 159 exeter cathedral 165 detail of minstrels' gallery 170 gloucester cathedral, the deanery 179 from s.e. 183 nave pillars from the west 187 the choir, looking east 191 the lady chapel 195 carrel in south cloister 199 hereford cathedral from the wye 207 the cantelupe shrine 211 worcester cathedral from the severn 219 lichfield cathedral, distant view of exterior 235 st. oswald's gate, chester cathedral 249 chester cathedral 253 the choir 257 shrine of st. werburgh 261 carlisle cathedral from s.e. 275 durham cathedral 285 the galilee chapel 290 the bishop's throne 293 ripon cathedral from north 299 the great buttresses 302 the apse 303 york cathedral--tomb of archbishop walter de grey 311 chapter house 313 north aisle of choir 317 the ladye chapel 321 the crypt 323 beverley minster, the west front 328 beverley minster 329 percy shrine 332 wakefield cathedral 334 chantry chapel on wakefield bridge 335 lincoln cathedral towers and potter gate 338 lincoln cathedral and exchequer gate 342 the angel choir 347 southwell central tower and n. transept 355 peterborough cathedral 365 north-west transept 370 ely cathedral--arm of abbot's chair 378 west tower from deanery gardens 379 the assumption of the blessed virgin mary, lady chapel 381 ely cathedral from south-east 383 the octagon and lantern from north-west 384 st. catherine's chapel 386 in south aisle of nave looking to north transept 387 carrel in cloister 388 norwich cathedral 397 a bay, north side of nave 401 ancient bishop's throne 403 bridge, north aisle of presbytery 404 st. alban's cathedral 411 list of plans page st. paul's cathedral 34 westminster abbey 56 canterbury cathedral 83 winchester cathedral 95 salisbury cathedral 124 wells cathedral 163 gloucester cathedral 203 worcester cathedral 229 durham cathedral 296 york cathedral 326 lincoln cathedral 350 peterborough cathedral 376 ely cathedral 392 norwich cathedral 408 cathedrals of great britain the architecture of the cathedrals of great britain we are endeavouring to follow the traces of the handiwork of the great master-builders who have filled the english isle with so many noble shrines, to mark the growth and development of the various styles and modes of building, and to endeavour to interpret their meaning. the story of the rise and fall of english gothic art has a fascination that is all its own; and with the intention of endeavouring to realise its high aims, its strength and beauty, and to understand its true spirit, we will start on our pilgrimage to those fanes which it has reared to the honour and glory of the most high. and as we watch the rise and progress of english gothic art, we shall note that it is no exotic, no alien welcomed to our shores; but a true english native art, born in the brains and faith of our english forefathers, and nourished here with a nation's whole-hearted affection. french writers on architecture are accustomed to state that our english gothic came from france, and that each stage and change were wrought by the influence of foreign masons and were borrowed from them. there could not be a greater error. the anglo-norman style was developed quite as much in this country as in normandy, which was then a province of england. we shall see that english gothic sprang into being in the choir of lincoln. no foreign mason taught our english masons the secret of their art. even westminster, most french of all our buildings, and designed by a foreigner, is, in the language of sir gilbert scott, "a great french thought expressed in excellent english." and while we have a style peculiarly our own, the perpendicular of the fifteenth century, at that period the french with their flamboyant tracery were only imitating the flowing lines of our fourteenth-century decorated. and as we study more carefully these examples of english gothic art, we shall admire the great unknown toilers who built so surely and so well, who put their hearts and lives, affections and religion into their work; we shall reverence the relics of their handiwork which time has spared and love them exceedingly. for the convenience of classification, mediæval architecture has been divided into four distinct styles or periods, and we must again chronicle the oft-told story of their varied peculiarities. i. the norman style commenced in the reign of edward the confessor, whose work at westminster (the sub-structure of the dormitory and the lower part of the walls of the refectory with the ornamental arcade) is declared to be the earliest example of the norman style in england. this style prevailed to the time of henry ii., when a period of transition set in, and the style began to approximate to that of the succeeding century. the main characteristics of the norman style are--cylindrical massive piers, round-headed arches, a great variety of mouldings such as zigzag, billet, double-cone, pellet, lozenge, beak-head, etc., small and narrow windows splayed only on the inside, buttresses slightly projecting from the wall. some of the best examples of this style are the naves of ely, gloucester, durham, and much norman work is seen at winchester, exeter, canterbury, chester, peterborough, norwich, rochester, chichester, oxford, worcester, wells and hereford. ii. the early english style began with the thirteenth century, in the reign of king john, the choir of lincoln being the earliest example. wearied with the romanesque uncouth details of norman art, the english masons were feeling after and finding a more excellent way, and discovered the beauties of gothic architecture. this style flourished until the time of edward i.; during his reign another period of transition set in, and this style gradually developed into the decorated. its main characteristics are lighter and more elegant forms of construction and decoration, pointed arches, often shaped like a surgeon's lancet, whence they derive their name, deeply undercut mouldings, dog-tooth ornament, piers formed of columns with detached shafts united under one capital, and bound together by a band, bell-shaped capitals, stiff-leaved foliage, trefoiled arches, plate-tracery. early english work is seen in the choir of lincoln, worcester, chichester, salisbury, exeter, wells, rochester, york (south transept), southwell, ripon, ely, peterborough, durham ("nine altars"), glasgow. iii. the decorated style commenced in the fourteenth century, or a few years earlier, reached its zenith before the middle of the century, and ended with the reign of the third edward. the period of transition between this style and the last is perhaps the era of the greatest beauty of english art. the characteristics of the style are, more elaborateness of detail and ornament, much larger windows with beautiful and complex tracery, heavier buttresses, piers with closely-joined shafts, not detached as before, sculpture closely imitating natural foliage, mouldings less deeply cut, the ball-flower ornament. decorated work is very plentiful, and may be seen in the chapter-houses of wells, norwich, winchester, canterbury, also at york, lichfield, exeter, carlisle, lincoln, southwell, and elsewhere. a period of transition again followed during the last half of the fourteenth century, during which the style developed into the perpendicular. iv. the perpendicular style prevailed during the fifteenth century and continued until the reign of henry viii., when the mediæval period ceased. this style is, as we have said, peculiar to england. in scotland, where french influence was great, there are many examples of the flamboyant style, which prevailed in france, and was scarcely known in england. this style is characterised by more elaborate and richer work, increased use of ornament and panelled decoration, peculiar window tracery (the mullions being carried straight up through the head of the window, while smaller mullions spring from the heads of the principal lights), much larger windows, depressed arches (tudor arch), much heavier buttresses, mouldings carried up the piers and arches without any break or capital, cavetto (a wide and rather shallow variety), ogee, bowtell mouldings, the rose ornament, tudor flower. the extensive use of panelling is always the hall-mark of the perpendicular period. the choir of gloucester is the earliest known example of this style, and king's college, cambridge, st. george's chapel, windsor, and henry vii.'s chapel at westminster, are the most perfect specimens of perpendicular art. then followed the renaissance period, when classical and roman features were mingled with the latest english style. there was an attempt to revive the gothic style in the time of james i., but the foreign influence was too strong, and not till the close of the eighteenth century did this revival take place. the love of gothic art had never been quite extinguished in this country, and to the english people belongs the honour of restoring to its rightful place that style which has created so many superb and magnificent buildings instinctive of the faith and reverence which first called them into being. in our cathedrals we have endless varieties of plan, construction, style and adornment, as well as in the associations connected with their histories. they derive their name from the latin word _cathedra_ (greek, [greek: kathedra]), signifying a seat, a cathedral church being that particular church of the diocese where the bishop's seat or throne is placed. if this church belonged to a monastery it was served by the monks, but many of our cathedrals were in the hands of secular canons, who were not monks, and should not be confused with the "regular" clergy. monastic churches had always a complete series of monastic buildings--the cloister-court, the centre of a monk's life, around which were grouped the chapter-house, dormitory, refectory, infirmary, hospitium or guest-hall. churches served by secular canons sometimes have a cloister, but this was added more as an ornament, and was not a necessity. the reformation wrought many changes in our cathedrals. out of the spoil of the monasteries henry viii. undertook to endow five new sees, and thus created the sees of oxford, peterborough, chester, gloucester and bristol. these are called the cathedrals of the new foundation, and with these are classed the monastic cathedrals which survived the shock of the reformation, viz.: canterbury, winchester, worcester, rochester, norwich, ely, durham, carlisle. the cathedrals of the old foundation which survived, with some changes in their constitution, were york, london, salisbury, wells, chichester, hereford, exeter, lichfield and lincoln, and the welsh dioceses of st. david's, llandaff, bangor and st. asaph. episcopacy was finally banished from the church of scotland on the advent of william iii.; hence the cathedrals in the northern country are so only in name. the episcopal church of scotland has, of course, cathedrals, but most of these are modern. since the reformation in england, and especially in modern times, many new sees have been formed; these are manchester, liverpool, ripon, st. alban's, southwell, truro, wakefield and newcastle. the plan of our cathedrals is usually cruciform, formed by a nave with aisles, north and south transepts, central tower, choir and presbytery. sometimes the plan is that of a double cross, there being a second or eastern transept towards the eastern end of the choir. our inspection of the exterior begins first by trying to obtain a good general view of the building. we notice the remains of the walls and gates which guarded the close, or precincts of the cathedral. within these walls the bishop's power was supreme. if sanctuary was claimed by a fugitive from justice, here he was safe; and the clergy and the serving-men were free from the ordinary law, and could be tried only by the ecclesiastics. then we notice the west front, usually a fine screen of stone-work, wherein are enshrined in niches weather-worn statues telling of the men of old who had done well in their days for their church and realm. passing to the north we see the central tower, possibly norman as high as the roof, with a superstructure of later times. the pitch of the roof may have been altered in later times from a high pitch to a flat one, and the marks of the old roof may often be seen on the tower walls. just below the eaves is the range of clerestory windows. flying buttresses connecting the buttresses of the outer wall with those of the inner are frequent and produce a very graceful effect. niches for statues are often carved upon the buttresses. curious grotesquely-carved heads, called gargoyles, look down upon us from the gutters of the roof. the tracery of the windows is no indication of the age of the walls, as they have frequently been inserted in place of others of an older period. the porch is a large structure, and sometimes has a chamber, called a parvise, over it. the object of this chamber cannot always be determined. sometimes it was the abode of the sacristan, and occasionally it was set apart for the use of an anchorite or recluse. the monastic buildings are usually on the south side in benedictine monasteries, but sometimes on account of the nature of the ground they are on the north. on entering the church we view the nave, which is usually in three storeys--the main arcade, the triforium, which opens into a gallery or passage, and the clerestory. sometimes the choir occupies two bays of the nave, but usually begins with the screen placed on the east side of the central tower. this screen was formerly the rood-screen, and a large crucifix stood on it; but at the reformation all roods were destroyed, and sometimes the organ stands in its place. entering the choir we see before us the high altar with a fine reredos behind it, so called from the french _l'arrière-dos_, meaning "embroidered hangings." on the south of this is the piscina, consisting of a hollow basin with a stone-drain, wherein the priest cleansed the sacred vessels after using them in the holy eucharist. on the same side are the sedilia, or stone seats for the clergy, frequently with richly-carved canopies. then there are the beautifully-carved stalls with fine tabernacle work, and the _sub-sellæ_ or misereres (french, _miséricorde_) with their quaint carvings. it is a popular error, gravely perpetrated by some cathedral vergers and others, to suppose these misereres were a kind of ingenious trap for sleepy monks, who, when the heavy seat fell down with a loud bang, were detected in slumber and forced to do penance. they were so placed as a concession to human weakness in order that the monks or canons might lean against them during the long mediæval services, when sitting was not allowed. the eastern portion of the choir is called the presbytery. we pass to the north aisle of the choir and proceed to the ambulatory, processional path, or retro-choir. here, at the back of the altar, was the chief shrine, where the relics of some great saint were preserved under a gorgeous cover decorated with gold and silver and precious jewels, to which crowds of pilgrims flocked, and there prayed and gazed upon the wondrous shrine, and made their offerings. the steps and pavement leading to the shrine often still show by their worn condition the evidence of the tread of countless numbers of pilgrims. near the shrine was a watching chamber, where a monk stayed to guard the shrine and its treasures. eastward of the ambulatory is usually the lady chapel, where the altar of the virgin stood; and here, and in other parts of the church, are numerous chantry chapels, sometimes built on to the church, or in the church itself, containing effigies of the founders and altar tombs, where masses were said by specially-endowed chantry priests for the repose of the souls of the deceased and their families. some effigies of knights and warriors have their legs crossed. it is another popular error to suppose that this fashion of representing the deceased had anything to do with the crusades. beneath some portion of the church we find a crypt with the remains of numerous altars, where masses were said for the souls of those who lie buried here. a door on the south side of the church leads to the cloister court; immediately on the left as we traverse the east walk we see the slype or passage leading to the monks' cemetery. another door from this walk leads to the chapter-house, where the monks assembled daily to arrange the affairs of the monastery, enforce its discipline, assign the duties of the day and transact other business. on the same side of the cloister was the dormitory; the refectory was on the south; the uses of the buildings on the west side varied in different houses. as we see our cathedrals now, the view that meets us differs much from that which would have greeted us in mediæval times. then all was ablaze with colours. through the beautiful ancient glass the light gleamed on tints of gorgeous hues, on rich tapestries and hangings, on walls bedight with paintings, and every monument, pier and capital were aglow with coloured decorations. we have lost much, but still much remains. at the reformation the avaricious courtiers of henry viii. plundered our sacred shrines, and carried off under the plea of banishing superstition vast stores of costly plate and jewels, tapestry and hangings. in the civil war time riotous fanatical soldiery wrought havoc everywhere, hacking beautifully-carved tombs and canopies, destroying brasses, and mutilating all that they could find. ages of neglect have also left their marks upon our churches; and above all, the hand of the ignorant and injudicious "restorer" has fallen heavily on these legacies of gothic art, destroying much that was of singular beauty, and replacing it by the miserable productions of early nineteenth-century fabrication. but in spite of all the evils that have been wrought, in spite of puritan iconoclasm and reformation violence, in spite of natural decay, eighteenth-century lethargy, and the intemperate zeal of unwise and tasteless modern restorers, our cathedrals still preserve much of their ancient beauty and attractiveness. they are standing witnesses to the greatness of the masons and builders who fashioned and perfected our english gothic art, "an art that was created here in this land according to our native instincts, and in accord with the sober dress of our skies and the simple pleasantness of our scenery."[1] a man cannot fail to love that english art, whether he has been born amongst it like ourselves, or has come wonderingly on its simplicity from all the grandeur over seas. footnote: [1] _history of gothic art in england_, by e.s. prior. st. paul's cathedral the great cathedral of st. paul has abundant claims to the love and veneration of every englishman. situated in the heart of the city of london, it has ever been associated with the religious, social and civic life of the people; and as the great national cathedral of england all the principal events in our country's annals have been connected with st. paul's. without doubt it is the finest and grandest building in london, if not in the world. comparing it with st. peter's at rome, we find that its dimensions are, of course, much smaller, though its grace and beauty are in no way inferior to the magnificent conception of michael angelo. it is the shrine of our national heroes, the _chef d'oeuvre_ of a great genius; its massive dome surmounted by a golden cross greets the traveller returning from beyond seas; its walls have echoed with the strains of high thanksgiving on the occasion of national victories and blessings, when kings and queens have come in solemn state to render thanks to him who is the king of kings and lord of lords. just as westminster was ever the church of the king and the government, so st. paul's was the church of the citizens. the prominent place which st. paul's takes in the national and social life of england, in the great functions of church and state, and in promoting the religious life of the people, is worthy of its best traditions, and at no time during its long history has it taken a higher place in the affections of the nation. the older cathedrals of st. paul's the present cathedral, erected by the skill and genius of sir christopher wren, is the third sacred edifice built upon this site. indeed, camden and certain early fanciful historians tell us of a roman temple dedicated to diana which they assert once stood here, erected during the time of the diocletian persecution upon the site of an early christian church. it is, however, certain that when sir christopher sank his foundations for the present building, he found beneath the interred bodies of mediæval times several saxon stone coffins, and at a still lower depth celtic and roman remains, showing that the site had been set apart as a cemetery from very early times. the earliest church of which we have sure records was erected in saxon times by good king ethelbert of kent in the year 610. st. mellitus, the companion of st. augustine, was the first english bishop of london,[2] who came there in order to convert the east saxons. siebert, their king, joined with his uncle, ethelbert, in building the cathedral church, and the former probably founded the monastery of st. peter called westminster on thorney island, a place then "terrible from its desolate aspect--a mass of marsh and brushwood." but the londoners loved their paganism, and took not kindly to the new faith. the men of the "emporium of many nations" clung to their worship of wodin and thor, and not even the wise words of mellitus in the new cathedral could win them. it was the original design of pope gregory, who sent augustine to our shores, to make the cathedral of london the metropolitan church of england--a design which augustine could not carry out on account of the violent opposition of the pagan-loving people. hence canterbury was elevated to the position of the metropolitan church. thirty-eight years passed away. at length the fiery spirit of the londoners was subdued after three great missionary efforts, and they gradually learned the story of the cross. the cathedral was beautified by bishop cedd, brother of st. cedd or chad of lichfield, and sebbe, king of essex, and was fortunate in having st. erkenwald as the fourth bishop of london, who wrought great wonders and attracted many converts, restoring wealth and honour to his cathedral. to his memory a golden shrine was erected which was much frequented by pilgrims. saxon kings gave of their wealth to the endowment of the cathedral, and many rich lands were granted to it, as the ancient charters bear witness. fire has always been a great foe to st. paul's. a very destructive conflagration raged in 961 a.d., and again in 1086 the cathedral was wholly destroyed. we have no means of knowing what kind of architecture characterised this earliest fane, but probably it possessed round arches of stone, massive piers, and the usual characteristics of the saxon style. the energy of the english people is evident to all who study our national annals. when any alarming catastrophe occurs, immediately they arise to repair the disaster. as it was in the seventeenth century when the great fire swept over london and laid the city low, so it was in the eleventh. the saxon church had no sooner been reduced to a heap of ruins than the norman builders began to rear another noble pile. bishop maurice was the designer of this great edifice, which existed until the time of the great fire, though it was greatly injured by a fire in 1136. a very noble church it must have been, with its walls ablaze with colour, richly-canopied tombs, pictures and frescoes, books, and vestments glittering with gold, silver and precious stones. it was the largest cathedral in england. old pictures tell us that it was cruciform, with a high tower and spire in the centre. the nave was long and noble, built in norman style, having twelve bays. william of malmesbury describes it as being "so stately and beautiful that it was worthily numbered amongst the most famous buildings." at the west end were two towers for bells, and sometimes used as prisons. the central tower had flying buttresses. besides the high altar there were seventy or eighty chantries, with their own altars all ablaze with rich draperies. st. paul's was also very rich in relics, among the number of which were two arms of st. mellitus, a knife of our lord, some hair of mary magdalene, blood of st. paul, milk of the virgin, the hand of st. john, the skull of thomas à becket, the head of king ethelbert. but "the pride, glory and fountain of wealth" to st. paul's was the body of st. erkenwald, covered with a golden shrine, behind the high altar. dean milman states that in the year 1344 the offerings made by pilgrims alone amounted to £9000. the choir was rebuilt in 1221, and the lady chapel added in 1225. there was a very large east window, and a rose window over it. buttresses crowned with pinnacles and adorned with niches supported the walls. the interior view, judging from hollar's engraving, must have been very fine. the pillars and arches were late norman. the choir consisted of twelve bays and was finished about the end of the thirteenth century. we have few records to tell us about the details of the building of this old st. paul's. in 1312 the nave was paved with marble, and two years later a spire of wood was raised to the height of 460 feet, then the highest in the world. this was damaged and ultimately destroyed by lightning. [illustration st. paul's from cheapside] footnote: [2] there were some british bishops of london. one of these, restitutus, was present at the council of arles in a.d. 314, and geoffrey mentions theon, bishop of london, amongst those who fled into wales during the saxon invasion. the precincts we will now examine the precincts of the cathedral. a wall surrounded the vast space which extended from carter lane on the south to creed lane and included paternoster row. this wall had six gates, the site of two of which is marked by st. paul's alley and paul's chain. the bishop's palace occupied the north-west corner of this space, and on the north were some cloisters decorated with mural paintings representing the dance of death, a favourite subject of mediæval painters, of which holbein's conceptions are best known. this cloister was on the site of pardon churchyard, where a chapel was founded by gilbert à becket, the father of st. thomas of noted memory. the chapter-house stood on the south side of the cathedral, and was a very beautiful structure, so beautiful that protector somerset coveted the materials for his palace in the strand, and took down and removed them. at the north-east corner of the precincts stood the famous paul's cross, the scene of so many famous preachings and strange events, where folk-motes were held, papal bulls promulgated, royal proclamations made, excommunications and public penances declared, and sometimes riots and tumults excited. paul's cross played a very prominent part in the history of old london. near the pardon churchyard once stood the parish church of st. faith, called the chapel of jesus; but this was destroyed, and the parishioners received in lieu of it a church in the crypt of the cathedral. fuller, remarking on this and on the existence of the parish church of st. gregory on the thames side of the cathedral, quaintly observed, "st. paul's may be called the mother church indeed, having one babe in her body and another in her arms." st. paul's was the centre of the life of london. its great bell summoned the london citizens to their three annual folk-motes at paul's cross, where all the municipal business of the city was transacted, disputes settled, grievances stated and rights vindicated. very turbulent and jealous of their liberties were these good citizens, and even the sovereign will of kings and queens must bow before the noisy clamours of the burghers of london. the bell of st. paul's, like that of its famous brother "roland" at ghent, seemed endowed with a human voice when it summoned the multitudes to their meeting-place at the cross, and declared in loud tones the will of the people. historical events the citizens might well love to have their church in their midst, for the ecclesiastical power was very strong, and often enabled them to defy the will of tyrannical kings or troublesome barons. in the time of the conqueror, bishop william of london obtained from the king a renewal of their privileges of which the monarch had deprived them. in gratitude for this benefit, the mayor, aldermen and livery companies of london used to visit the tomb of the good bishop in grand procession, in order to pray for his soul, and to commemorate his great services. in the reign of stephen civil war raged, and the country was divided into hostile camps, one siding with the king and the other with the empress maud. the citizens of london were not doubtful in their opinions. they rang the great bell of st. paul's, summoned their folk-mote, and loudly declared that it was the privilege of the citizens of their great city to elect a sovereign for england, and with one voice supported stephen. thomas à becket, archbishop of canterbury, was a favourite of the citizens, though hated by his sovereign. gilbert à becket, his father, had a shop in cheapside on the site of mercers' hall, whither the fair saracen is said to have followed him from the holy land, where he had gone on a crusade. he built a chapel in the churchyard of st. paul, and his son, the famous archbishop, was well known to the citizens. gilbert foliot, bishop of london, however, had taken the side of the king, henry ii., in the fatal quarrel, and aroused the anger of the prelate. a curious scene took place in consequence in old st. paul's. a priest was celebrating mass, when a man approached, thrust a paper into his hand, and cried aloud, "know all men that gilbert, bishop of london, is excommunicated by thomas, archbishop of canterbury." the news spread fast among the citizens. foliot at first attempted to defy the dread sentence; but he knew something of the nature of the citizens of london, and wisely bowed before the decree, which the people were quite willing to enforce. st. paul's was the scene of a memorable council in the reign of richard coeur de lion, who was crusading in palestine. the bishops, together with the king's brother john, met in the nave and condemned longchamp to resign the office of justiciary, and to surrender the castles which he held in the name of the king. during this reign a factious demagogue, william fitz-osbert, equally distinguished by the length of his beard and the vehemence of his eloquence, called the people together at paul's cross, and excited them to rebel against their oppressors. bishop hubert, however, calmed the multitude on the eve of a formidable rising. the people deserted their leader, who took refuge in st. mary-le-bow church, which was set on fire, and fitz-osbert suffered death at the hands of the hangman. thus from the tyranny of a royal favourite, and from that of a mob orator, the people were saved by the influence of the church in st. paul's cathedral. a still greater service did st. paul's render to england. here was assembled a grand concourse of bishops, abbots, deans, priors and barons, to withstand the oppressive lawlessness of king john. here magna charta was first devised. here, at the instigation of archbishop langton, the barons and chief men swore to maintain the principles of the charta, and to protect the liberties of englishmen. st. paul's also set itself in opposition to the authority of the pope; and when a papal legate sought to enthrone himself in st. paul's, he was openly resisted by cantelupe, bishop of worcester. boniface of savoy, "the handsome archbishop," brought with him fashions strange enough to english folk. his armed retainers pillaged the markets, and he felled to the ground, with his own fist, the prior of st. bartholomew, smithfield, who presumed to oppose his visitation. he came to st. paul's to demand first-fruits from the bishop of london, but deemed it advisable to wear armour beneath his robes. he found the gates of the cathedral closed against him; but he fared better than two canons of the papal party, who were killed by the citizens a few years later when they attempted to enter st. paul's. london was aroused by these italian priests, and the citizens at length besieged lambeth palace and drove the obnoxious archbishop beyond seas. again and again the tocsin sounded, as st. paul's bell rang clear and loud, and the citizens seized their weapons and formed their battalions beneath the shadow of the great church. now it was to help simon de montfort against the king; now to seize the person of the obnoxious queen eleanor, who was trying to escape by water from the tower to windsor, and who was rescued from their hands by the bishop of london, and found refuge in his palace. now the favourites of edward ii. excited their rage, especially the bishop of exeter, the king's regent, who dared to ask the lord mayor for the keys of the city, and paid for his temerity with his life. an incident which shows the attachment of the people to their church and bishop occurred in the reign of the third edward. wycliffe was summoned by bishop courtenay to appear before a great council at st. paul's. but the reformer did not come alone; to the surprise of his accusers he arrived attended by a large following of friends, among whom were john of gaunt and lord percy. these powerful supporters of wycliffe attacked the bishop with angry words. news was flashed among the citizens that john of gaunt had threatened their bishop and vowed to drag him out of the church by the hair. they gathered together in angry crowds, and would have slain the duke and sacked his palace, the savoy, in the strand, if the bishop had not interfered on behalf of his enemy. wycliffe and lollardism did not then find much favour with the people of london. there were reformers within the church who were quite as eager to correct abuses as those outside the fold. among these was bishop braybroke of london, who lived in the time of edward iv. he contended for the sanctity of the sacred building, inveighed against the practice of using it as an exchange, of playing at ball within the precincts or within the church, and of shooting the pigeons which then as now found sanctuary at st. paul's. the chronicles of the cathedral tell the story of the troublous times of the wars of the roses. we see henry iv. pretending bitter sorrow for the death of the murdered richard, and covering with cloths of gold the body, which had been exhibited to the people in st. paul's. we see henry v. returning in triumph from the french wars, riding in state to the cathedral, attended by "the mayor and brethren of the city companies, wearing red gowns with hoods of red and white, well-mounted and gorgeously horsed, with rich collars and great chains, rejoicing at his victorious returne." then came henry vi., attended by the bishops, the dean and canons, to make his offering at the altar. here the false duke of york took his oath on the blessed sacrament to be loyal to the king. here the rival houses swore to lay aside their differences, and to live at peace. but a few years later saw the new king, edward iv., at st. paul's, attended by great warwick, the king-maker, with his bodyguard of 800 men-at-arms. strange were the changes of fortune in those days. soon st. paul's saw the exhibition of the dead body of the king-maker, and not long afterwards that of the poor dethroned henry, and richard came in state here amid the shouts of the populace. after the defeat of the conspiracy of lambert simnel, henry vii. celebrated a joyous thanksgiving in the cathedral, and here, amid much rejoicing, the youthful marriage of prince arthur with catherine of arragon took place, when the conduits at cheapside and on the west of the cathedral ran with wine, and the bells rang joyfully, and all wished happiness to the royal children whose wedded life was destined to be so brief. the reformation and after at the dawn of the reformation period we will pause in order to try and realise what kind of scenes took place daily in the great cathedral, and what vast numbers were employed on the staff. the members of the cathedral body in the year 1450 included the following:--the bishop, the dean, the four archdeacons, the treasurer, the precentor, the chancellor, thirty greater canons, twelve lesser canons, about fifty chaplains or chantry-priests and thirty vicars. of inferior rank to these were the sacrist, the three vergers, the succentor, the master of the singing school, the master of the grammar school, the almoner and his four vergers, the servitors, the surveyor, the twelve scribes, the book transcriber, the bookbinder, the chamberlain, the rent-collector, the baker, the brewer, the singing-men and choir boys, of whom priests were made, the bedesmen and the poor folk. in addition to these must be added the servants of all these officers--the brewer, who brewed in the year 1286, 67,814 gallons, must have employed a good many; the baker, who ovened every year 40,000 loaves, or every day a 100, large and small; the sextons, grave-diggers, gardeners, bell-ringers, makers and menders of the ecclesiastical robes, cleaners and sweepers, carpenters, masons, painters, carvers and gilders. one can very well understand that the church of st. paul alone found a livelihood for thousands. the inventory of church goods belonging to the cathedral in 1245 exists, and is worth studying. it enumerates sixteen chalices, five of gold and the rest of silver-gilt. a chalice of greek work had lost its paten, but retained its reed (_calamus_), a relic of the time when the deacon carried the chalice to the people, and each one drank of its hallowed contents through a long narrow pipe, which was usually fastened on a pivot to the bottom of the cup of the chalice. amongst other curiosities of the inventory are three _poma_, or hollow balls of silver, so contrived as to hold hot water or charcoal embers for the warming of the hands of the celebrant during mass. of shrines and relics we have already spoken. there were three episcopal staves, and also a precentor staff of ivory with silver-gilt and jewelled enrichments, and a _baculus stultorum_ for use at the profane travesty called the feast of fools. among the mitres were two for the boy-bishop's use on st. nicholas day. there were thirty-seven magnificent copes, and forty-four others, and thirty-four specially fine chasubles. the inventory of 1402 supplies some curious information as to the manner in which the numerous and costly vestments were arranged when not in use. in the treasury, on the west, stood a wardrobe, _armariolum_, in which were twenty-four _perticæ_, pegs, or rods, or frames, from which the copes and chasubles could be suspended, one _pertica_ holding from three to six copes. the vestments were arranged according to colour. three other wardrobes were also stored with goodly vestments, and there were twenty-six in daily use. the total is 179 copes, fifty-one chasubles and ninety-two tunicles, and the colours were red, purple, black, white, green, yellow, blue, red mixed with blue. we have remarked that st. paul's was the centre of the social life of the people in olden days, which led to some abuses. francis osborn says, "it was the fashion in those days, and did so continue until these, for the principal gentry, lords and courtiers, and men of all professions, to meet in st. paul's by eleven of the clock, and walk in the middle aisle till twelve, and after dinner from three to six, during which time they discoursed of business, others of news." shakespeare represents falstaff in _henry v._ as having "bought bardolph in paul's"; and dekker thus speaks of the desecration of the sanctuary, "at one time in one and the same rank, yea, foot by foot, elbow by elbow, shall you see walking the knight, the gull, the gallant, the upstart, the gentleman, the clown, the captain, the apple-squire, the lawyer, the usurer, the citizen, the bankrout, the scholar, the beggar, the doctor, the idiot, the ruffian, the cheat, the puritan, the cut-throat, highman, lowman and thief; of all trades and professions some; of all countries some. thus while devotion kneels at her prayers, doth profanation walk under her nose in contempt of religion." here lawyers received their clients; here men sought service; here usurers met their victims, and the tombs and font were mightily convenient for counters for the exchanges of money and the transaction of bargains, and the rattle of gold and silver was constantly heard amidst the loud talking of the crowd. gallants enter the cathedral wearing spurs, having just left their steeds at "the bell and savage," and are immediately besieged by the choristers, who have the right of demanding spur-money from anyone entering the building wearing spurs. nor are the fair sex absent, and paul's walk was used as a convenient place for assignations. old plays are full of references to this practice. later on the nave was nothing but a public thoroughfare, where men tramped carrying baskets of bread and fish, flesh and fruit, vessels of ale, sacks of coal, and even dead mules and horses and other beasts. hucksters and pedlars sold their wares. duke humphrey's tomb was the great meeting-place of all beggars and low rascals, and they euphemistically called their gathering "a dining with duke humphrey." much more could be written of this assembly of all sorts and conditions of men, but we have said enough to show that the cathedral had suffered greatly from desecration and abuse. indeed, an old writer in 1561 declared that the burning of the steeple in that year was a judgment for the scenes of profanation which were daily witnessed in old st. paul's. he writes, "no place has been more abused than paul's has been, nor more against the receiving of christ's gospel; wherefore it is more marvel that god spared it so long, rather than he overthrew it now. from the top of the spire at coronations, or at other solemn triumphs, some for vain glory used to throw themselves down by a rope, and so killed themselves vainly to please other men's eyes," and much more to the same effect. but the strictness of the worthy divine did not altogether cure the evils against which he railed. eight years later the first great lottery was drawn before the west doors. there were 10,000 lots at ten shillings each, and day and night from january 11 to may 6 the drawing went on. the prizes were pieces of plate, and the profits were devoted to the repair of the havens of england. so profitable was the lottery that another took place here in 1586, the prizes being some valuable armour. at the dawn of the reformation we see henry viii. in all the pomp and glory of mediæval pageantry riding in state to the cathedral to be adorned with a cap of maintenance and a sword presented to him by the pope. there was no sign yet of any breach of alliance between the roman pontiff and him whom he honoured with the title of "defender of the faith." lollardism in spite of some burnings spread, and the western tower of the cathedral earned the name of the lollards' tower, as several were imprisoned there. wolsey, the great cardinal, in the height of his prosperity often came to st. paul's, and very gorgeous were the scenes which took place there, when thanksgiving for the peace between england, france and spain was celebrated, when princess mary was betrothed to the dauphin of france, and charles v. proclaimed emperor. but signs of trouble were evident. bishop fisher thundered forth invectives against the works of luther, which were publicly burnt in st. paul's churchyard. a few years later there was a burning in the cathedral of heretical books in the presence of the cardinal, who caused some of luther's followers to march round the blaze, throw in faggots, and thus to contemplate what a burning of heretics would be like, and be thankful that only their books and not their bodies were condemned to the flames. during this troubled time and in mary's reign, st. paul's was often used as a place of trial for heretics, but paul's cross was a fruitful breeding place for the principles of the reformation. here latimer, ridley, coverdale, lever, and a host of others used to inveigh against the errors of rome and deny the authority of the pope. here they exhibited the boxley rood, with all the tricks whereby it was made to open its eyes and lips, and seem to speak. the crowd looked on, and roared with laughter, seized the miraculous rood, and broke it in pieces. and then a strange thing happened in the cathedral. one night all the images, crucifixes and emblems of popery were pulled down. terrible havoc was wrought, chalices and chasubles, altars and rich hangings, books and costly vestments, were all seized and sold, and helped to increase that vast heap of spoil which the greedy ministers of edward vi. gathered from the wasting of the church's goods. tombs were pulled down, chantries and chapels devastated, cloisters and chapter-houses removed bodily to somerset house by protector somerset for the building of his new palace, and all was wreckage, spoliation and robbery. then came the fitful restoration of the "old religion," and many riots ensued, many ears were nailed to the pillory nigh paul's cross; many protestants condemned in the cathedral to the fires at smithfield, and many horrors enacted which englishmen like not to remember. with the coming of elizabeth more peaceful times ensued, but the cathedral was in a sorry condition. desecration reigned within. then in 1561 the spire caught fire, blazed and fell, destroying parts of the roof. the clergy and citizens soon set to work to repair the damage, but the glory of "old st. paul's" had departed, and its ruinous condition was the distress of rulers and the despair of the citizens and clergy. elizabeth often visited the cathedral, and troubled dean nowell by her plainly-spoken criticisms. felton was hung at the bishop's gates for nailing a papal bull to the palace doors, which declared the queen to be a heretic and released her subjects from their allegiance. this attempt of the pope to dethrone the virgin queen was not very successful. some other conspirators suffered for their crimes in the following reign in the precincts, four of the gunpowder conspirators being hung, drawn and quartered before the west doors. here also garnet, the jesuit, shared a like fate. king james attempted to restore the cathedral, but his efforts came to nothing. charles i. did something, and from the designs of inigo jones built a portico at the west end, and made some other improvements, but the troubles of the civil war intervened, and the money which had been collected by archbishop laud and the generosity of the citizens of london was seized by the parliament and converted to other and baser uses. the civil wars desolation reigned supreme in the once glorious church when puritan rage had vented itself on its once hallowed shrines and sacred things. cromwell's troopers "did after their kind." whatever beautiful relics of ancient worship reforming zeal had left were doomed to speedy destruction. in the western portico built in the last reign shops were set up for sempstresses and hucksters; dr. burgess, a puritan divine, thundered forth in his conventicle set up in the east of the building; and the rest of the cathedral was turned into a cavalry barracks. the conduct of the rough soldiers created great scandal. they played games, brawled and drank in the church, prevented people from going through the nave, and caused such grievous complaints, that an order was passed forbidding them to play at ninepins from six o'clock in the morning to nine in the evening. the _mercurius eleneticus_ of 1648 waxes scornful over the misdeeds of these rough riders, and scoffs sarcastically: "the saints in paul's were last week teaching their horses to ride up the great steps that lead to the quire, where (as they derided) they might perhaps learn to chant an anthem; but one of them fell and broke his leg, and the neck of his rider, which hath spoilt his chanting, for he was buried on saturday night last, a just judgment of god on such a profane and sacrilegious wretch." the famous cross in the churchyard, which according to dugdale, "had been for many ages the most noted and solemn place in this nation for the greatest divines and greatest scholars to preach at, was, with the rest of the crosses about london and westminster, by further order of the parliament, pulled down to the ground." after the great fire with the restoration of the monarchy came the restoration of the cathedral. dr. wren, the great architect, was consulted, plans were discussed, wren prepared himself for the great work, and all was in readiness, when the great fire broke out, and completed the ruin which had already begun. it, however, paved the way for the erection of the grand church which will ever be associated with the genius of its great architect. both the diarists, pepys and evelyn, speak of the melancholy spectacle of the great ruin. pepys laments over the "miserable sight of paul's church, with all the roof falling, and the body of the nave fallen into st. faith." and dryden sings:- "the daring flames press'd in and saw from far the awful beauties of the sacred quire: but since it was profaned by civil war heaven thought it fit to have it purged by fire." [illustration the west front] evelyn, in his diary, describes his visit to the church before the fire with dr. wren, the bishop, dean and several expert workmen. "we went about to survey the general decay of that ancient and venerable church, and to set down in writing the particulars of what was fit to be done. finding the main building to recede outwards, it was the opinion of mr. chickley and mr. prat that it had been so built _ab origine_ for an effect in perspective, in regard of the height; but i was, with dr. wren, quite of another judgment, and so we entered it: we plumbed the uprights in several places. when we came to the steeple, it was deliberated whether it were not well enough to repair it only on its old foundation, with reservation to the four pillars; ... we persisted that it required a new foundation not only in regard of the necessity, but that the shape of what stood was very mean, and we had a mind to build it with a noble cupola, a form of church-building not as yet known in england, but of wonderful grace...." then came the great fire, so graphically described by evelyn. he writes: "the stones of paul's flew like granados, the melting lead running down the streets in a stream, and the very pavements glowing with fiery redness, so as no horse or man was able to tread on them, and the demolition had stopped all the passages, so that no help could be applied." this great fire roused again the energy and indomitable spirit of englishmen. they beheld without alarm the ashes of their houses, and the destruction of their great city. they felt that the eyes of europe were upon them. a new city was to be built worthy of their nation, worthy of the great centre of the commerce of the world. but to restore st. paul's was a stupendous work. some were for rebuilding on the old walls. pepys describes the ruins: "i stopped at st. paul's, and then did go into st. faith's chapel, and also into the body of the west part of the church; and do see a hideous sight of the walls of the church ready to fall, that i was in fear as long as i was in it; and here i saw the great vaults underneath the body of the church." and again: "up betimes, and walked to the temple, and stopped, viewing the exchange, and paul's, and st. faith's, where strange how the very sight of the stones falling from the top of the steeple do make me sea-sick." they began to repair the west end for service against the advice of wren, and dean sancroft was obliged to confess to the architect,-"what you whispered in my ear at your last coming here is come to pass. our work at the west end of st. paul's is fallen about our ears." at last the order was given to take down the walls, clear the ground, and proceed according to the plans of wren. he was thwarted and distressed by the interference of many. his original design was to build it in the form of a greek cross, but to this the clergy objected, and a latin cross was decided upon. in 1674 the workmen began to clear away the old ruins, no light task, but in the end it was accomplished, the first stone of the new cathedral being laid on june 21, 1675. in october 1694 the choir was finished, and on december 2, 1697, divine service was performed for the first time in the new edifice. it was a special thanksgiving for the peace of ryswick, a peace which settled our dutch william more securely on the throne of england. his majesty wished to attend the service, but it was feared that amongst the vast crowds there might be too many jacobites, and he was persuaded to remain at his palace. bishop compton preached a great sermon on the occasion from the text, "i was glad when they said unto me, we will go into the house of the lord." thirteen years elapsed before the highest stone of the lantern on the cupola was laid by wren's son, and the magnificent building was completed by the skill, genius and determination of one man, whose memory deserves to be ever honoured by all englishmen. the men of his own day did not treat him worthily. during the building of the cathedral he was beset by all the annoyances jealousy and spite could suggest, and at the end of his long and useful career, by the intrigues of certain german adventurers, he was deprived of his post of surveyor-general after the death of queen anne. he retired to the country, and spent the few remaining years of his life in peaceful seclusion, occasionally giving himself the treat of a journey to london, in order that he might feast his eyes on that great and beautiful church which his skill had raised. his was the first grave sunk in the cathedral, and it bears the well-known inscription, than which none could be more fitting:- lector, si monumentum requiris circumspice. the existing cathedral--exterior the new st. paul's is without doubt the grandest building in london. perhaps the finest view is obtained from the approach by ludgate hill, and the grandeur of its majestic dome is most impressive. the style is english renaissance. we will begin our survey with the _west front_, which was erected last, and therefore bears the stamp of wren's matured genius. there are two storeys. in the lower there is a row of corinthian columns arranged in pairs, and in the second storey a similar series. on the triangular pediment above is a carving of the conversion of st. paul, while a statue of the saint crowns the apex, the other statues representing ss. peter and james and the four evangelists. two towers stand, one on each side of the front, and complete a superb effect. these contain a grand peal of twelve bells, one of which, called great paul, fashioned twenty years ago, is one of the largest in the world. rich marbles, brought from italy and greece, adorn the pavement. proceeding to the _north side_ we note the two-storied construction, the graceful corinthian pilasters,[3] arranged in pairs, with round-headed windows between them; the entablature; and then, in the second storey, another row of beautiful pilasters of the composite order. between these are niches where one would have expected windows; but this storey is simply a screen to hide the flying buttresses supporting the clerestory, as wren thought them a disfigurement. the walls are finished with a cornice, which wren was compelled by hostile critics to add, much against his own judgment. there are some excellently-carved festoons of foliage and birds and cherubs, which are well worthy of close observation. the _north_ and _south fronts_ have corinthian pillars, which support a semi-circular entablature. figures of the apostles adorn the triangular-shaped head and balustrade. the royal arms appear on the north side, and a phoenix is the suitable ornament on the south, signifying the resurrection of the building from its ashes. the south side is almost exactly similar to the north. the east end has an apse. the magnificent _dome_ is composed of an outward and inward shell, and between these there rises a cone-shaped structure which supports the lantern, crowned with its golden ball and cross. the arrangement of this is most complex, and is a witness to the marvellous skill of the architect. above the row of composite columns is a gallery, which affords a good view to those who are anxious to climb. above the actual dome is the golden gallery, and then the lantern, roofed with a dome bearing the ball and cross. the whole height is 365 feet. interior of the building the view on entering the cathedral at the west is most impressive. the magnitude of the design, the sense of strength and stability, as well as the beauty of the majestic proportions, are very striking. over the doors we see carvings of st. paul at berea. a gallery is over the central doorway, and here is a good modern window. [illustration the nave from the choir] the nave has a large western bay with chapels, three other bays, and a large space beneath the west wall of the dome. it has three storeys, the lofty arches, a storey which in a gothic church would be termed the triforium, and a clerestory. grand corinthian pilasters are attached to the massive piers, with wonderfully-wrought capitals, which support the entablature. the arches spring from smaller pilasters joined to the larger ones. great arches springing from the triforium piers span the nave, and between these arches are dome-shaped roofs. high up there are festoons of carving. the aisles have three large windows, and composite pilasters adorn the walls and support the vault. the north chapel at the west end is the morning chapel, and is adorned with mosaics and modern glass, in memory of dean mansell (1871). the south chapel is called the consistory, and once held wellington's monument, to which the marble sculptures refer. here is an unusual _font_ of carrara marble. the _dome_ is supported by immense and massive masonry. above the arches a cornice runs round, supporting the _whispering gallery_. then the dome begins to curve inward. above is a row of windows, set in groups of three, separated by niches recently filled with statues of the fathers, and then the dome is completed and painted by sir james thornhill with scenes from the life of st. paul. these are too faint and too far distant to be easily observed. the painter nearly lost his life through stepping backward in order to see the effect of his brush, and nearly fell from the scaffold. his companion just saved his life by flinging a brush at the painting, and thornhill rushed forward to rescue his work, and thus his life was saved. the _pulpit_ is made of rich marble, and the lectern was made in 1720. the modern _mosaics_ are of unique interest, and add much to the beauty of the cathedral. to sir william richmond the credit of this work is mainly due, and for some of earlier portions to mr. g.f. watts, r.a. the _transepts_ have good windows, representing (north) the twelve founders of english christianity, and south, the first twelve christian saxon kings, and also a window in memory of the recovery from illness of his majesty edward vii. when prince of wales. [illustration woodwork south choir aisle] the _choir_ has some wonderfully-carved stalls by the famous grinling gibbons, and these bear the names of the prebendaries attached to the cathedral, with the parts of the psalter which each one had to say each day, an arrangement similar to that at lincoln. the _reredos_ is a noble example of modern work, and is worthy of close examination. behind it is the jesus chapel, containing a monument of canon liddon. the mosaic decorations of the choir are the work of sir william richmond, and are worthy of the highest praise. monuments one feature of st. paul's especially endears it to us, and that is that there lie all that is mortal of many of our national heroes. westminster is richer in its many monuments of great poets and writers; but the makers of the empire and most of our distinguished painters are entombed in the "citizens' church." we can only point out the tombs of the most illustrious. _nave_ (north aisle)- wellington (d. 1852), the hero of waterloo. gordon (d. 1890), slain at khartoum. stewart, general (d. 1880), who tried to rescue gordon. melbourne, viscount (1848), queen victoria's first prime minister. _north transept_- sir joshua reynolds (1792), by flaxman. rodney, admiral (1790), the hero of martinique. picton (1815), slain at waterloo. napier, general (1860), author of _peninsular war_. ponsonby, general (1815), killed at waterloo. hallam, the historian (1859). johnson, samuel (1784). _south transept_- nelson, admiral. sir john moore (1806), killed at corunna. turner, joseph, r.a. (1851), painter. collingwood, admiral (1810), colleague of nelson. howe, admiral (1799), colleague of nelson. howard, john (1790), the prison reformer, the first monument erected. lawrence, general (1857), killed in indian mutiny. cornwallis, general (1805), fought in american war and in india. _south choir aisle_- dean milman (1868). bloomfield, bishop (1856). jackson, bishop (1885). heber, bishop (1826), of calcutta. liddon, canon (1890). [illustration johnson's statue in st. paul's cathedral] the _crypt_ contains the parish church of st. faith, wellington's funeral car fashioned from captured cannon, and his tomb, nelson's tomb (the coffin is made from the wood of one of his ships--the tomb is sixteenth-century work and was made for cardinal wolsey), the grave of wren with its famous inscription, and many illustrious painters sleep in the _painters' corner_, amongst whom our modern artists leighton and millais rest with reynolds, lawrence, landseer and turner. dimensions total length 460 ft. length of nave 200 ft. width of nave 100 ft. height of nave 89 ft. length of choir 160 ft. height of cross on dome 363 ft. height of west towers 222 ft. area 59,700 sq. ft. style--english renaissance. building dates begun june 21, 1675. cathedral finished 1710. [illustration plan of st. paul's cathedral] footnote: [3] a pilaster is a column attached to a wall. westminster abbey the famous abbey church of westminster, though not a cathedral, must be included in our chronicle of the chief ecclesiastical buildings in this country. it is the coronation church of the sovereigns of england, the final resting-place of many, the national tomb-house of our heroes and great men, as well as a triumph of gothic architecture of singular beauty and attractiveness. for one brief space at the time of the reformation there was a bishop of westminster, but the see did not long continue, and it is for other reasons that westminster must find a place in this volume. in early saxon times a chapel dedicated to st. peter was built by siebert in the seventh century on an island rising from the marshy ground bordering the thames. it was called thorney, and the eastern portion of the water in st. james's park is a part of the arm of the thames which encircled the sanctuary of the monks and the palace of the anglo-saxon kings. here was established by dunstan a colony of benedictine monks. in the charters of edgar (951) the original boundary of westminster is clearly defined, though this charter is esteemed doubtful by kemble, and the importance of westminster gradually increased. edward the confessor took a particular interest in the place, and began his building of the abbey in 1050. on childermas day (the feast of the holy innocents) 1065 the choir was finished and consecrated, and on "twelfth mass eve" the king died and was buried here. the bayeux tapestry depicts the scene of this royal funeral, and gives a representation of the church. the earlier church still remained as the nave of the new choir. a few fragments of edward's work remain beneath the pavement of the present choir. the work progressed while william rufus was building his royal palace, and at the time of his death the transepts and first bay of the nave were completed, the first conspicuous example of a great benedictine church in england. henry i. and matilda were crowned here with much pomp, and all the monarchs since the time of the conqueror. early in the days of henry iii. a new lady chapel was built, and this inspired the artistic soul of the young king, who determined to build an abbey worthy of the honour of god in the best and newest style of architecture. he was a frenchman in feeling, and had passed many days at the court of st. louis. so his new monastic church must be fashioned in the french style; his monks must speak french, and he chose a french model for his architecture, for the plan of his church with its french _chevet_, and for the radiating chapels of the choir. but in spite of this french design our westminster remains "a great french thought expressed in excellent english"; it is like "one of chaucer's lays, a sweetly english poem inspired by a french romance," and is the most finished product of the early english of the first half of the thirteenth century. its french peculiarities may be seen in the narrowness and height of the bays of the choir, its plan with regard to the radiating chapels, and in the tracery of the windows. the work began in 1245 with the east end, and all the building as far as the fourth bay of the nave was finished in 1269. the noble re-founder was buried in his glorious minster. edward i. brought here the coronation stone of the scottish kings, and had it placed in the new throne which he fashioned to enclose it. in the fourteenth century much building was done to perfect the monastery. in the time of richard ii. the reconstruction of the old nave was in progress, and henry v. took much interest in it. his father died in the jerusalem chamber. the building of the nave continued, and the well-known whittington, "thrice lord mayor of london," in 1413 helped forward the work by liberal contributions. the tudor badges in the vaulting of the last bays show the later character of that portion of the building. henry vii. built the beautiful and famous chapel at the east end in place of the lady chapel built in 1220, which is such a perfect example of the best perpendicular work. it was finished about 1520. [illustration dean's yard, westminster, in 1730] at the dissolution of monasteries westminster shared the fates of the rest, and the last abbot, benson, became the first dean, and for a brief space there was a bishop. protector somerset turned his greedy eyes upon the noble minster, and was with difficulty induced to refrain from plundering it overmuch. indeed, he had thoughts of pulling it down, but was propitiated by bribes of some manors and many loads of caen stone for the building of his new palace, somerset house. the services were of course changed, and many goodly treasures sold; during the brief reign of mary the roman catholic ritual was restored, and the confessor's shrine re-erected; but elizabeth turned out abbot ferkenham, and constituted westminster a collegiate church with a dean and twelve prebendaries. the remains of poor mary queen of scots were brought here by james i. and laid side by side with queen elizabeth. here in the gatehouse sir walter raleigh was imprisoned. soon the tumults of the civil war arose, but westminster happily escaped the fury of the puritans. the noted westminster assembly was called together in henry vii.'s chapel in 1643, for the purpose of "settling the government and liturgy of the church of england and clearing of the doctrine from false aspersions and interpretations." this assembly took upon itself to denounce the book of common prayer and to substitute the directory for public worship. many restorations of the fabric have taken place since the restoration of the monarchy. sir christopher wren was a wonderful architect, but he was scarcely the man to tamper with an ancient and beautiful gothic building. he set to work to rebuild the western towers, which were finished after his death in 1739. new stone-work has been erected in place of the old in most of the exterior of the abbey, and sir gilbert scott and mr. pearson were responsible for the restoration of the north front of the north transept. the complete story of the abbey of westminster would tell of all the pageants and coronation festivals which have taken place therein, to which another has just been added when king edward vii. and his queen were crowned; it would tell of the last solemn rites of monarchs and great men, poets, sages and generals who sleep within the hallowed precincts. but the story must be left to others, and we will now examine the details of this ancient pile which is so closely connected with all the chief events in english history. the exterior the _west front_ is flanked by two towers 225 feet high, built by wren, and finished by his pupil, hawksmoor, about 1740. in the centre of the front is the great perpendicular window, beneath which is a row of niches. the entrance porch has a groined roof. the nave is remarkable for its length and height. on the north side we notice that there is a wealth of buttresses. strong buttresses support the aisle walls, and from these flying buttresses stretch across to the walls built on the central arcade. the four eastern buttresses comprise the part of the church finished by henry iii.; the rest of the nave, with the exception of wren's towers, was built during the last half of the fourteenth century and the beginning of the fifteenth. the figures in the niches are modern. [illustration the north front] the _north front_ is new, designed by sir g. scott and mr. pearson. it is very elaborate work, and much of it is beautiful, but it does not seem to harmonise with the rest of the building. there is a large rose window; on each side tall buttresses crowned with turrets and covered with niches. there is an arcade of open work below, and then some deeply-recessed early english windows, and below three doorways under one string-course, the centre one having a high gable. this door is divided by a pier having a finely-carved figure of the virgin and child. the tympanum is divided into three panels. in the highest is our lord in glory surrounded by angels, and below him are the twelve apostles, while in the lowest tier are figures representing art, history, philosophy, war, legislation and science, with the builders of the abbey, edward the confessor, henry iii. and richard ii. the niches are filled with figures of persons in some way connected with the abbey. the _choir_ is in the form of an apse, with radiating chapels, planned on the model of the french _chevet_, according to the taste of henry iii., which he had cultivated during his sojourn in france. the _lady chapel_ at the east end, commonly called henry vii.'s chapel, is one of the noblest examples of the best perpendicular work in the kingdom, and ranks with st. george's chapel, windsor, and king's college, cambridge. the monastic buildings are on the south side of the abbey, and will be approached from the interior. the interior the view of the interior is very impressive. standing at the west end of the nave we cannot fail to admire the magnificent beauty of this noble shrine. this _nave_ of twelve bays, with its clustered columns, its beautiful triforium, and its lofty and firmly-proportioned roof, soaring to the height of 101 feet, is very striking. a close inspection will show the difference between the piers of the portion finished by henry iii. and the newer work of the fourteenth century. the tracery of the triforium openings is very fine. the _choir-screen_, which crosses the nave at the eighth pier, is modern, and also the pulpit. the west window is perpendicular, and has some georgian glass containing figures of the patriarchs. much architectural beauty has been sacrificed for the sake of ponderous monuments, but many of these have much interest, and for many visitors will prove the most attractive features of the abbey. a list of the most important monuments will be found at the close of our account of the abbey. the north-west tower contains the monuments of distinguished members of the whig party, and has in the window some ancient glass. the south-west tower was formerly the baptistery. the architecture of the aisles has suffered much from the erection of stupendous monuments. the gallery at the west of the south aisle was erected at the same time as henry vii.'s chapel by abbot islip, and is known as the _abbot's pew_. the door at the east end is late early english. the _south transept_ is known as the _poets' corner_, on account of the memorials of the votaries of the muses which stand here. the architecture is of very beautiful design in the style of early english, when it was merging into early decorated. in the south wall is the entrance to the chapel of st. faith, the door of which was once covered with the skins of danes. two tiers of trefoiled arches are above this, and higher still the triforium, the spandrels of the arches being enriched with sculpture. there is no west aisle. chaucer's tomb will attract most visitors. in the chapel are some ancient paintings of the crucifixion, st. faith, and a kneeling monk. the _choir_, which has been the scene of so many solemn and memorable services, has no ancient woodwork. the stalls were erected about the middle of the last century. the altar and reredos are modern. there are some large figures, and a mosaic of the last supper. here the coronations of our monarchs take place. the pavement is interesting, as it was brought from rome by abbot ware in 1268, and beneath it he rests with other abbots of westminster. the sedilia are thirteenth-century work, and were decorated with paintings. the figures of king siebert, the first founder, and of henry iii., the munificent re-founder, remain. above the base of the tomb of anne of cleves, one of henry viii.'s many wives, is a remarkable painting of richard ii., and behind it some ancient tapestry. a record of the interesting tombs here will be found later. _edward the confessor's chapel_ is a mausoleum of royal personages, wherein our monarchs have been laid to rest, a portion of the building which always possesses a solemn and pathetic interest. here is the shrine of the "miracle worker," the pious but weak last saxon king, st. edward. it was fashioned in 1269 by order of henry iii., the artificer being one peter, a roman citizen. the style of the oldest part, the base of the shrine, is of a byzantine character. the upper part was probably made by abbot feckenham in mary's reign, in imitation of that which was destroyed in reformation times. it is difficult to imagine what must have been the splendour of this wondrous shrine when it was adorned with gold and gems, ere the greedy commissioners of henry viii. despoiled it of its treasures. henry iii., eleanor of castile, in whose honour her loving husband, edward i., raised the eleanor crosses wherever her body rested on its last journey to the abbey, edward i., and other monarchs rest here. _henry v.'s chantry_ is a splendid piece of ornate perpendicular work, with elaborate sculptured figures representing st. george, st. denys, and the story of the hero's life, his fights, his coronation, his court. the effigy has been much mutilated. above the tomb is the monarch's achievement, his shield, saddle and helmet, which were borne in his funeral procession. the coronation chairs have especial interest at this time, especially the famous throne of edward i., which has under the seat the coronation stone of scone, brought by him from scotland. legends tell us that this stone was the veritable stone used by jacob as a pillow when he dreamt that wondrous dream at bethel. there is also the throne of william and mary, and edward iii.'s sword and shield. [illustration poets' corner westminster abbey] in the _south ambulatory_ are three chapels, dedicated to ss. benedict, edmund and nicholas, all of which have interesting monuments which will be noticed later. we now enter _henry vii.'s chapel_, the most perfect example of the perpendicular style at its best in the country. at the entrance are beautiful bronze doors covered with designs symbolical of the titles of the royal founder. it is impossible to describe in words the richness and beauty of the interior of this noble chapel. washington irving wrote: "the very walls are wrought into universal ornament, encrusted with tracery and scooped into niches, crowded with statues of saints and martyrs. stone seems, by the cunning labour of the chisel, to have been robbed of its weight and density, suspended aloft as if by magic, and the fretted roof achieved with the wonderful minuteness and airy security of a cobweb." the vault is very beautiful with fan-tracery. the banners of the knights of the order of the bath hang over their stalls. the misereres are wonderfully carved, and are worthy of close examination. the black marble tomb of the founder is considered to be the best example of the renaissance style in england. it was fashioned by torregiano. very numerous monuments are found here, which will be described later. the tombs of mary queen of scots and of queen elizabeth have especial interest. oliver cromwell's body once lay in the most eastern chapel, but the royalists at the restoration wrought vengeance on his corpse, and on that of other regicides, and did not suffer them to remain in these hallowed precincts. returning we traverse the _north ambulatory_, from which open the chapels of ss. paul, john baptist, erasmus and abbot islip. st. erasmus was a bishop of campania, martyred in the time of the diocletian persecution. his chapel has a fine, late decorated doorway. abbot islip died in 1532, and had previously adorned this chapel for his tomb, of which only the base remains. a curious eye will discern his rebus. in the upper chapel are preserved some remarkable wax effigies of deceased monarchs and others, which were used in ancient times in funeral processions. charles ii., elizabeth, william and mary, anne, duchess of richmond, general monk, and a few others have survived the wreck of time. the _north transept_ resembles the south and is remarkable for its noble architecture. it is part of henry iii.'s construction. the carving is rich and beautiful, especially the famous sculptures of the _censing angels_, which are best seen from the triforium. on the east are the three chapels of ss. john the evangelist, michael and andrew, which are now filled with monuments. we will now visit the _monastic buildings_, which may be entered from the south aisle of the nave. the east walk of the cloisters was finished in 1345, and the south and west walks a few years later under the rule of abbot litlington. the north walk is a century earlier. from the east walk we enter the _chapter-house_. the doorway is remarkably fine, with its sculptured figures in the mouldings. this is one of the finest and largest chapter-houses in england, and was built by henry iii. in 1250. its plan is octagonal. there is a central, slender, clustered shaft from which the vaulting springs. this vault is a restoration. the windows have beautiful tracery, and are filled with modern glass. the old paintings representing the second advent are very interesting. this room has been devoted to many uses. here the house of lords used to meet, and here the records were once kept. the chapel of the pyx, a fine early norman structure, where "the trial of the pyx" took place, is not open to the public. above this and the vestibule was the dormitory, now the library and schoolroom of the famous westminster school founded by henry viii. the cloisters have many monuments. on the south-east lies the little cloister formerly the infirmary, approached by a passage from the east cloister. the refectory was on the south side of the cloister-court, and on the west was the abbot's house, now the deanery. permission should be obtained to see the famous _jerusalem chamber_, probably so called from the tapestry which once hung here. here henry iv. died, which fact shakespeare mentions in his play, _henry iv._, and many other historical scenes have these walls witnessed. [illustration henry v.'s chantry] kings buried in westminster abbey siebert, king of the east saxons. edward the confessor. henry iii. edward i. edward iii. richard ii. henry v. edward v. henry vii. edward vi. james i. charles ii. william iii. george ii. list of monuments _st. edward's chapel, or the chapel of the kings_- edward the confessor. henry iii. henry v. edward iii. edward i. eleanor of castile. queen philippa. richard ii. and queen. queen editha and queen matilda (good queen maud) are buried here. _henry vii.'s chapel_- mary queen of scots. queens elizabeth and mary. henry vii. and his queen. james i. no monument. in the "stuart vault" are buried- elizabeth, queen of bohemia, and prince rupert. lady arabella stuart, anne hyde, and several royal children. in the "royal vault" are buried- charles ii. queen mary ii. william iii. queen anne. prince george of denmark. under the nave of the chapel are buried- george ii. and caroline of anspach. edward vi. the old altar by torregiano under which he was laid has been of late years restored. in "oliver's vault" were originally buried- _cromwell_, and other leaders of the commonwealth; the only body that has remained undisturbed is that of the protector's daughter, elizabeth claypole. a small sarcophagus contains the bones supposed to be those of edward v. and the duke of york. in this chapel are also buried- addison, to whom a statue was raised in 1809 in the _poets' corner_. george villiers, duke of buckingham, an immense tomb. _nave and choir_- charles james fox. henry fox, lord holland. major-general charles george gordon, bronze bust. william pitt. william wordsworth, seated statue. } john keble, bust. } frederick d. maurice, bust. } baptistery. charles kingsley, bust. } matthew arnold, bust. } dr. t. arnold, bust. } william congreve. major john andré. charles robert darwin, medallion portrait. (sir john herschell, buried next to darwin). ben jonson (buried here--monument in poets' corner). sir charles lyell, bust. sir isaac newton. buried here are- david livingstone, } robert stephenson, } without monument. dean trench, } sir george gilbert scott, } lord lawrence, bust. sir james outram (a bas-relief of relief of lucknow). colin campbell, lord clyde. dr. isaac watts. john and charles wesley (buried elsewhere). admiral sir cloudesley shovel. sir godfrey kneller, the only painter commemorated in the abbey. william wilberforce, seated figure. henry purcell, tablet. (sir william sterndale bennett buried here.) [illustration interior from chapel of st. john] _north transept_- william pitt, earl of chatham. viscount palmerston, statue. sir robert peel, statue. lord beaconsfield, statue. gladstone (no monument yet erected). warren hastings (buried elsewhere). richard cobden, bust (buried elsewhere). _poets' corner_- john dryden, bust. h. wadsworth longfellow, bust. abraham cowley. geoffrey chaucer. lord tennyson, bust. robert browning (no monument). michael drayton. ben jonson, monument bears same inscription as stone above grave. edmund spenser. samuel butler (buried elsewhere). john milton. thomas gray (buried elsewhere). matthew prior. thomas campbell. robert southey (buried elsewhere), bust. s. taylor coleridge (buried elsewhere), bust. william shakespeare. robert burns (buried elsewhere), bust. james thomson (buried elsewhere). john gay (buried?). oliver goldsmith, medallion (buried elsewhere). sir w. scott, replica of bust at abbotsford. john ruskin, medallion. george frederick handel, statue. jenny lind goldschmidt, portrait head. w. makepeace thackeray (buried elsewhere), bust. joseph addison (buried in henry vii.'s chapel). lord macaulay, bust. william camden. david garrick, full-length figure. among those buried here without monuments are- sir john and francis beaumont. sir john denham. dr. samuel johnson (monument at st. paul's). richard brinsley sheridan. charles dickens. sir william davenant. richard hakluyt. thomas parr. queen anne, richard iii.'s wife, is believed to be lying here. monuments to dr. busby and dr. robert south. portion of tomb of anne of cleves. within the rails of the choir are three old tombs- aveline, countess of lancaster, married to henry iii.'s son, edmund crouchback. aymer de valence, earl of pembroke, cousin to edward i., employed as general in wars in scotland. edmund crouchback, earl of lancaster. _south ambulatory_-supposed tomb of king siebert. _chapel of st. edmund_- william de valence, earl of pembroke (father of above), half-brother to henry iii. this is the only existing example in england of an effigy in limoges enamel work. lord lytton, black marble slab. _north ambulatory_- general james wolfe. _chapel of st. paul_- james watt, statue. _islip chapel_- remains of islip's tomb form a table by the window. _st. john's chapel_- sir john franklin. _st. andrew's chapel_- sir humphrey davy (buried elsewhere), tablet. mrs. siddons, statue. john kemble, statue. among those who are buried in the cloisters are- thomas betterton, actor. mrs. bracegirdle, actress. aphra behu. samuel foote. a tablet in the cloisters has been put up in memory of seven of the queen's westminster volunteers killed in south africa, 1900. monument to dean stanley (henry vii.'s chapel). archbishop tait, bust (poets' corner). window commemorative of- george herbert. william cowper. dimensions length of nave 166 ft. breadth of nave 38 ft. breadth of nave and aisles 71 ft. height of nave and choir 101 ft. length of choir 155 ft. breadth of choir 38 ft. length of whole church 511 ft. height of central tower 151 ft. height of west towers 225 ft. area 46,000 sq. ft. principal building dates 1050-1100--fragments beneath pavement of choir, chapel of the pyx. 1245-1269--choir and four eastern bays of nave, transepts, chapter-house, and north and part of east walk of cloister. 1330-1350--cloisters, south and west walks. 1350-1512--west parts of nave, henry vii.'s chapel, abbot's pew, henry v.'s chantry, jerusalem chamber. 1739-1741--west front. modern--north front of north transept. [illustration plan of westminster abbey] rochester cathedral the city of rochester has a distinguished past. it lies on the great high road to london, the old watling street. hence, all the great and royal visitors passed through rochester, and few events of historical importance which occurred in the kentish corner of england were unconnected with this city. it was a roman station. the saxons called it _hvof-cæstre_. ethelbert founded the cathedral here in 604, and this first raised it to importance. athelstan established a mint here, and at the beginning of the tenth century it was one of the principal ports of the kingdom. this was the cause of its undoing, as the danes found it a convenient landing-place, and pillaged and ravaged the city. a norman castle was built by bishop gundulf, of whom we shall hear more later. this fortress, of which there are extensive remains, has been frequently besieged. it was granted by the conqueror to odo, bishop of bayeaux, who was faithless to william and was besieged in this castle. again, king john and simon de montfort, and wat tyler, all tried the strength of this mighty fortress. many scenes of mediæval pageantry took place here. in the time of henry iii. a grand tournament was held here, and gay was the city with the presence of contending knights and squires and all the pomp of ancient chivalry. it were vain to name all the royal visitors who have sojourned here. here at the restoration came the "merry monarch," and here, when the fortunes of the stuarts were very low, came james ii. in his secret flight, and embarked from rochester on his fatal journey to france. the story of the city is full of interest; but its cathedral was the primary cause of its greatness, and thither we must wend our way, and try to read its history. the see was founded by ethelbert at the instigation of augustine in 604, justus, one of the followers of the apostle of the english, being its first bishop. he was the builder of the earliest church, some foundations of which have been recently discovered. here the great missionary of the north, paulinus, came, the apostle of the north of england, having been driven away from northumbria, and was bishop here till 644, when ithamar succeeded, the first native bishop of the english church. the church was dedicated to st. andrew. danish invasions caused much destruction. siward, formerly abbot of abingdon, was the last saxon prelate who preserved his see when the conqueror came. but the chroniclers tell of the miserable condition of the church, "wretched and empty, destitute of all things within and without." in 1076 came gundulf of bec to preside over the fortunes of the harassed see, and he wrought vast changes. he introduced benedictine monks, who replaced the secular canons, rebuilt the cathedral, and, not content with that, erected a castle here, and built parts of dover castle and the tower of london. soon after his death ernulf, whose work at canterbury we shall see, became bishop here, and carried on his great building operations, erecting the dormitory, chapter-house and refectory. in 1130, in a grand assembly of bishops, nobles, and in the presence of the king, henry i., the cathedral was consecrated. as with many other cathedrals, fire wrought havoc in the sacred fane, especially in 1138 and 1177. the later norman builders added much to the perfection of the church, carving the capitals of piers of the nave, recasing them, and building the west front, which gundulf does not seem to have accomplished. after the fires the building was renewed, especially in the monks' quarters, which had suffered much. another great misfortune was the plundering and devastation of the church by king john after his capture of the castle; but happily an event occurred which helped to fill the treasury of the monks, and enabled them to adorn their minster. one william of perth, a baker by trade, who was of a pious mind, undertook a pilgrimage to the holy land, but was killed by robbers near chatham, and buried here. miracles were said to have been wrought at his tomb; the fame thereof spread; and crowds of pilgrims began to frequent st. william's shrine, and bring costly offerings. william de hoo was sacrist and prior at the beginning of the thirteenth century, a most active builder, who rebuilt the choir and aisles, using much of the old norman work. this choir was used for the first time in 1227. another great builder was richard de eastgate, sacrist, who constructed a new west transept, and began the construction of the central tower. his work was continued, and before the century was completed there was a new south transept, and the piers finished for bearing the tower. [illustration rochester cathedral] bishop glanville (1185-1214) was much hated by the monks, and continuous disputing arose. "he came from northumbria," says a monk, "and is a proof of the saying that out of the north proceedeth all evil." in 1264 simon de montfort and the barons besieged rochester, and on good friday "the satellites of the devil entered the church of st. andrew with their drawn swords, and, striking fear and horror into its children and those also who had taken refuge in it, crucified them together with the lord, who suffereth in his elect. moreover, they plundered the gold and silver and precious things. some of the monks they imprisoned all the night, and armed men on their horses rode about the altars, and dragged thence with impious hands certain persons who had fled to them. the holy places--the chapels, cloisters, chapter-house, infirmary--were made stalls for their horses, and filled with filth and uncleanness." walter de merton was bishop here in 1274-1278. he was the noble founder of merton college, oxford, and from his rules which he framed for his institution it is evident that he liked not monks. at one time it seems to have been the intention of the builders to pull down the nave and rebuild it in gothic style, but in the fourteenth century the monks seem to have given up the idea, and joined the new work with the norman. the affairs of the monastery did not always go very smoothly. we have noticed some disputes between the bishop and the monks, and in the fourteenth century there were endless quarrels between the monks and the citizens. the latter had the altar of st. nicholas in the body of the nave near the screen for their use. their access to it the monks tried to control, and scenes of violence resulted. so the monks encircled the precincts with a wall, and enclosed the choir with strong gates and screens, and subsequently built a church for the parishioners. bishop haymo de hythe (1319-1352) contributed large sums to the restoration of his cathedral. he built the central tower and raised a campanile, in which he placed four bells, named dunstan, paulinus, ithamar and lanfranc. he also built the door leading to the chapter-house. several alterations were made in perpendicular times, new windows inserted, and the lady chapel built in the unusual position on south of the nave, and the fabric of the cathedral finished. at the dissolution of monasteries the monks were turned adrift, and the new foundation called into being, consisting of a dean, prebendaries, minor canons, choristers, together with a grammar school. at the civil war the cathedral fared better than many. the soldiers changed the position of the altar and broke the rails, and profaned the church by using it as a stable and a tippling place, while saw-pits were made here, and carpenters plied their trade. at the restoration all churchmen set about repairing their cathedrals, and the citizens of rochester lagged not behind. much money was spent on the fabric, and many repairs effected. in the eighteenth century sloane was the architect who rebuilt the steeple. very extensive alterations were made at the beginning of the nineteenth century, under the direction of cottingham, which were drastic, and sir g. scott and mr. pearson have both been at work on the cathedral, whose restorations we will examine when we inspect the cathedral. the bishopric of rochester since the reformation has been occupied by several remarkable men. bishop fisher, a learned, brave and saintly man, was doomed to death on the scaffold by henry viii. (1535), and barlow, buckeridge, warner and atterbury were all men who achieved fame in their times. the exterior the best view can be obtained from the castle. the _west front_ is a fine example of norman work, with the exception of the large perpendicular window, and the modern imitation of norman work. it is a mistake for architects to destroy the accretions of centuries, and to substitute a reproduction of what they imagine to have been the original design. mr. pearson had the audacity to take down the fifteenth-century north turret, and to erect a bran-new norman turret in its place. the front, as we see it, consists of a centre flanked by turrets, and two wings, which form the ends of the aisles. first we notice the beautiful west door, which is one of the finest norman doorways in the kingdom. it has five orders, and is of elaborate design and profusely adorned with mouldings, the capitals being richly carved. on the fourth shaft on each side are two curious figures, supposed to represent henry i. and his queen. in the tympanum is the saviour, with angels and the evangelistic emblems, and below small mutilated figures of the apostles. the old doors were said to have been covered with the skins of danes, but these have disappeared, and the new ones have no trace of the epidermis of our destructive visitors. the great west window was inserted about 1470. rows of norman arcading adorn the front. two modern statues of bishops gundulf and john have been placed in the niches on each side of the doorway. the turrets are octagonal, that on the west being modern, and built by mr. pearson on the model of that on the south, in place of a perpendicular one erected at the same time as the window. the north tower has been quite recently erected in imitation of the ancient design, and the south tower raised to its original height. the _nave_ is for the most part norman. the clerestory is perpendicular, also the windows in the north aisle. the _north transept_ is early english, but has been re-roofed at a much higher pitch by sir g. scott, who added the pinnacles and circular windows. on the east of this is _gundulf's tower_, built by the founder of the norman church and probably intended for purposes of defence, and as a treasury. it seems that the only entrance to it was from the top, a bridge connecting it with a staircase in the neighbouring transept. it was afterwards used as a belfry. the north side of the choir shows its early english character, and the presence of the dog-tooth ornament bespeaks its style. there is, however, much modern work. the high gables that call loudly for corresponding roofs were built by scott, and perhaps some generous visitor will be willing to grant their silent appeal. the south side of the presbytery adjoins the chapter-house and library, built in the eighteenth century in place of the noble norman chapter-house, the ruins of which still remain. the monastic buildings stood in an unusual position on the south side of the choir, and were mainly constructed by ernulf. gundulf's cloisters were on the south of the nave in the usual place for a benedictine abbey, but these have entirely disappeared. in the ruins of ernulf's monastic buildings there is much fine norman work, zigzag and billet mouldings, his favourite diaper which is found at canterbury, and a curious carving of the sacrifice of isaac. parts of the wall of the dormitory and the refectory, with a lavatory, remain. the south side of the choir and the choir transept were much restored by cottingham in 1825. a fine decorated window has been inserted in the south wall of the choir transept aisle. the _south transept_ is late early english work. on its west side is the lady chapel, erected in the perpendicular style about 1500. the lower part of the central tower, which is hardly worthy of the cathedral, was built by bishop haymo de hythe (1319-1352); all above the roof was erected by cottingham in the restoration of 1825. the remains of the old wall which surrounded the precincts are still in existence. the prior's gate was built about the middle of the fourteenth century; and the other remaining gates are college gate, and the deanery gate, both of which belong to the time of edward iv. the interior we enter the _nave_ by the beautiful west doorway and are at once impressed by the fine norman character of the building. much of it is the work of gundulf, the first norman bishop, the companion of lanfranc, who fashioned his rising church after the model of canterbury, and has thus left us a copy of the appearance of that church ere it was refashioned by later builders. the two eastern bays are early decorated. the clerestory is perpendicular work, and the flat timber roof was erected at the same time. the later norman builders, bishops ernulf and john (1115-1137), greatly improved the appearance of gundulf's nave. they finished the west end, recased the piers, and carved the zigzag mouldings and the capitals, and seem to have added a new triforium or enriched the old arcade with diaper work. there is no triforium gallery, as it opens both into the aisles as well as into the nave. the fine interior of the west doorway will be noticed, and also another norman doorway in the south-west corner. the windows in the north aisle are perpendicular. the font is modern, and also the pulpit, stalls and lectern. on the south of the south aisle is the late perpendicular chapel of st. mary, usually called the lady chapel. it was restored in 1852. here the consistory court used to meet. it is now used as a chapel for the grammar school. the _south transept_ is of later date than the corresponding north transept; its style is late early english, when the style was merging into early decorated. the architect was richard de waldene, sacrist. above in the south wall there are five single-light windows, and below three double windows, and the extensive use of purbeck marble in the shafts will be noticed. banded shafts of marble cluster around the great tower-piers. cottingham erected the present ceiling in 1840. it will be noticed that the purbeck marble shafts on the two western tower-piers stop some distance from the ground, and a block of intrusive masonry obtrudes itself on the west of the northern one. various conjectures have been made concerning the object of this. possibly it formed part of a stone rood loft, or served as a buttress to the arch. the _north transept_ is early english, the work of richard de eastgate, sacrist. the dog-tooth ornament is seen in the clerestory. the carved corbels, representing monastic heads, are finely executed. in the recess on the east side there is a piscina which marks the site of an altar. the _monuments_ in the nave and transepts are not important. that of richard watts in the south transept is worthy of notice. he entertained queen elizabeth at his house called satis,[4] and erected a hostel for six poor travellers, "not being rogues or proctors," which in later times has been immortalised by charles dickens, as a tablet sets forth. near it is the monument of sir richard head, who sheltered the fugitive monarch james ii. when he fled from his kingdom. the glass is all modern. the _choir screen_ has been restored in memory of dean scott, who, with dean liddell of christ church, oxford, compiled the well-known greek lexicon. the doorway is ancient decorated work; the figures are (beginning on the north side) st. andrew, ethelbert, st. justus, st. paulinus, gundulf, william de hoo, walter de merton, bishop fisher, all of whom were connected with the see of rochester. as at canterbury, we ascend several steps to gain the choir, rendered necessary by the height of the crypt below. all the work before us in the choir is early english, but fashioned on the old norman walls. it was finished sufficiently for use in 1227, in the year of the accession of henry de sandford to the bishopric, and is the work of william de hoo. the choir aisles are separated from the choir by stone walls. shafts of purbeck marble support the vault. some of the brackets of early english foliage which support the shafts are beautifully carved. some of the windows in the presbytery and south choir transept are later insertions, and are decorated. sir g. scott wrought drastic changes here, and substituted two tiers of lancets instead of a large east window, brought the altar away from the extreme east end and designed a new reredos. he made new stalls, using much of the old woodwork. some fine old fourteenth-century painting he discovered behind the old stalls, which he carefully reproduced, and designed a new throne, pulpit and reredos. amidst so much that is new and beautiful in its way, it is pleasant to discover some ancient work. the sedilia are perpendicular, and an early english piscina and aumbry are observable behind the altar. there is a curious and interesting mural painting on the north wall representing the _wheel of fortune_, which is probably a thirteenth-century production. the _north choir transept_ (early english) contains the tomb of st. william, to whom we have already referred, and whose shrine brought much gain to the treasury. the tomb is of purbeck marble, with a floriated cross. a flat stone marked with six crosses in the centre of the transept is said to be the site of the shrine. the steps leading to this transept from the north choir aisle are much worn by the feet of pilgrims. here is also the tomb of walter de merton (1274-1277) of early decorated design, the founder of merton college, oxford. the slab is modern; an alabaster effigy made in 1598 now is placed in the adjoining recess. here is also the tomb of bishop lowe (1467). in the aisle (st. john baptist's chapel), are tombs of bishop warner (1666), the founder of the college for widows at bromley, who occupied the see during the commonwealth period; of bishop john de sheppey (1360), the sculpture of which is worthy of the highest praise. it was long hidden away in the wall, and remained so for centuries, until the restorations of 1825 brought it to light.[5] here also is a very ancient statue said to be the figure of gundulf. in the chancel or sacrarium are the tombs of bishop gilbert de glanville (1214), a shrine-shaped monument with medallions containing mitred heads; bishop lawrence de st. martin (1274), of early decorated design; at extreme east, sir w. arundel (1400) and his lady; and on the south side the supposed coffin of bishop gundulf; bishop inglethorp (1291), a thirteenth-century coffin, and another in the south choir transept (name unknown). the glass in this part of the church is all modern. the _doorway into the chapter-house_ is one of the great glories of the cathedral. it is late decorated work, and was probably erected during the episcopate of haymo de hythe (1319-1352). cottingham restored it in 1830, and made the left-hand figure into a grave and reverend bishop holding a model of a cathedral and a crozier. it is probably correct that in a more recent restoration the figure should have been made into that of a female. it is meant to signify the christian church, just as the right-hand figure represents the jewish church, blindfolded, and leaning on a broken reed and holding a reversed table of the law. the two seated figures on the right and left sides represent the four doctors--ss. jerome, augustine, ambrose and gregory, while above appear angels who have rescued a pure soul from purgatorial fires. the crocketed ogee arch and the diaper work above are worthy of attention; the door is modern. the _chapter-house and library_ occupy a room which is a modern addition. the library has some treasures, amongst which may be mentioned _textus roffensis_, a collection of records, gifts and privileges of the cathedral, compiled under the direction of bishop ernulf (1115-1124). it has passed through many perils, having been stolen, restored, borrowed, lost in the thames, recovered, and we trust its dangers are now over. _custumale roffense_, another valuable ms. of the thirteenth century, a great collection of _bibles_, including coverdale's, cranmer's or the great bible, and the bishops' bible. above the choir transepts are two chambers called the treasury, where the church plate is kept, and the indulgence chamber. following the course of the pilgrims, we proceed down the flight of steps to the south choir aisle, or chapel of st. edmund. there is the mutilated tomb of bishop john de bradfield (1278-1283). following the second flight of steps we come to the _crypt_, which extends under the whole choir and is one of the most perfect in the kingdom. the western part is early norman, and has massive piers and cushion capitals. the rest is early english. the altars in the crypt were numerous, and traces of them remain, as shown by the piscinas. the crypt was extensively decorated with mural paintings, and some traces of them may still be seen. dimensions total length, 306 ft.; length of nave, 126 ft.; width of nave, 65 ft.; length of choir, 147 ft.; length of west transept, 120 ft.; length of east transept, 88 ft.; height of tower, 156 ft.; height of vault, 55 ft.; area, 23,300 sq. ft. description of architecture norman--most of the nave and part of crypt and old chapter-house. early english--the choir and transepts. decorated--chapter door and some windows at east end. perpendicular--clerestory of the nave, west window, lady chapel. modern--tower, chapter-house and library, roof of west transept and north-west tower. footnotes: [4] when the queen was departing he apologised for his poor entertainment, but she replied "_satis_" ("sufficient"), from which august reply watts named his house. [5] authorities differ as to whether the colouring is ancient or modern. mr. palmer, in his recent and valuable history of the cathedral, pronounces in favour of the latter; but mr. st. john hope considers it to be ancient. canterbury cathedral in the minds of readers of english history canterbury must always rank first amongst our cathedrals on account of the wealth of historical associations connected with it. the story of canterbury is the story of england, and every record of our annals abounds with allusions to it, or to the distinguished prelates connected with it. it is the metropolitan church of the southern province, and is regarded with veneration as the mother church not only of england, but of all the churches in america and the colonies of the british empire. there was probably a roman or romano-british church here; when augustine converted king ethelbert to christianity the monarch gave him his palace together with an old church which stood near it. this was on part of the site of the present cathedral. we need not record again the tangled story of the conversion of the english, or the names of all the successors of augustine. the first seven were buried in the monastery of st. augustine, now st. augustine's college, archbishop cuthbert (d. 758) being the first to be interred in his own cathedral. archbishop odo (942-959) known as "the severe" on account of his endeavour to restore discipline among the clergy, although born a heathen dane, was a zealous prelate, and set himself to restore the ruinous condition of his cathedral. for three years the work of building progressed. the eleventh century brought the danish ravages, and with fire and sword the pagan hosts attacked canterbury and murdered the archbishop, alphege. his successor, living or leofing, was held captive by the danes for some time, but sought safety beyond seas, and lived to crown canute. the cathedral was restored by the next prelate, egelnorth, but a fire destroyed it in 1067, and it was not till norman times that a complete restoration was attempted. lanfranc, the first norman archbishop, finding the church utterly dilapidated, destroyed the old fabric and built a noble minster. we have a description of the old saxon church in the writings of eadmer, a monk of canterbury: "at the east end of the church stood the high altar, which enclosed the body of st. winifred. this was of rough stone cemented together. a little before that was an altar where mass was said daily; in which altar st. alphege enclosed the head of st. swithun, and many other relics which he brought with him from winchester. descending hence by several steps was the crypt. at the foot of these steps was a descent into a vault which went under the east part of the church; and at the east end of it was an altar, wherein was enclosed the head of st. fursius. from hence by a winding passage, at the west end, was the tomb of st. dunstan, separated from it by a wall. his body was buried deep in the ground before those stairs, and over him was a tomb erected in the form of a lofty pyramid. the hall or body of the church was separated from the choir. about the middle of the hall were two towers jutting out beyond the walls--that on the south had an altar dedicated to st. gregory; and from this tower was a passage, the principal porch of the church, anciently called stuthdore, a large and capacious portico. the tower on the north side was erected to the honour of st. martin, having a passage to it from the cloisters. the end of the church was adorned with the oratory of the blessed virgin. in the eastern part of it was an altar, consecrated to her, which enclosed the head of a saint." lanfranc also built the monastic buildings. the saintly archbishop anselm, who succeeded lanfranc, took down the east end and rebuilt it with great magnificence. his chief architect was ernulf, the prior, afterwards bishop of rochester. prior conrad succeeded, who finished the choir, which was hereafter known as "the glorious choir of conrad." gervase, a monk of canterbury, describes this church, which had a central tower, a nave supported on each side by eight pillars, two western towers with gilt pinnacles, a rood-screen, surmounted by a great cross with figures of ss. mary and john. he concludes that the dedication of this church was "the most famous that had ever been heard of on the earth since that of the temple of solomon." this church was the scene of the murder of thomas à becket, which convulsed the land, and here henry ii. did penance before the tomb of the archbishop slain at his instigation. in 1174 a fierce conflagration raged and destroyed the beautiful choir, and at the sight of the ruins, gervase tells us, the people were mad with grief, and beat the walls and tore their hair, blaspheming the lord and his saints. the task of rebuilding was at once commenced, and william of sens was appointed architect. he laboured for four years, and then falling from a scaffold was so much injured that he was obliged to return to france. an english william then took over the superintendence of the work. it is not stated that he was a pupil of william of sens, or was in any way influenced by french models. in 1184 the choir was finished, and soon new cloisters were added. in 1304 the choir was beautified and a new pulpit erected by prior d'estria, who added the great bell called thomas. in 1376 archbishop sudbury took down the western transepts and the nave, and began the rebuilding of the former in the perpendicular style, the work being continued by prior chillenden during the rule of archbishop courtenay, the oppressor of lollardism. the cloisters and chapter-house were finished at this time. archbishop arundel (1396-1414), who was addicted to burning heretics, also added greatly to the beauty of the church, and his successor, chichele, spent vast sums on the church, founded a library, and began the spire on the west tower. in 1449 prior goldstone built the beautiful chapel of the virgin called the dean's chapel, and another prior of the same name in 1495 began the great central tower, or angel steeple, when archbishop morton ruled, whose rebus is inscribed upon it. the same prior also built the christ church gate in 1517. the troublous times of the reformation followed, and we find cranmer occupying the archiepiscopal throne, who was ultimately doomed to the stake at oxford. fanatical reformers wrought terrible havoc in the cathedral. the magnificent shrine of becket, to which millions had flocked to pay their devotions, was entirely destroyed, and numerous other costly shrines shared its fate. archbishop laud attempted to restore the beauty of the sanctuary, and erected a fine altar with reredos; but soon the pikes of the puritans and their wild savagery reduced the interior of the cathedral to a ruinous desolation. the usual scenes of mad iconoclasm were enacted, windows broken, altars thrown down, lead stripped off the roof, brasses and effigies defaced and broken. a creature nicknamed "blue dick" was the wild leader of this savage crew of spoliators, who left little but the bare walls and a mass of broken fragments strewing the pavement. [illustration canterbury cathedral] since then numerous alterations and restorations have taken place. at the restoration of the monarchy bishop juxon of london, who attended charles i. on the scaffold at whitehall, was made archbishop of canterbury, and he and archbishop sheldon, his successor, did much to restore the fabric and remove the traces of puritan fanaticism. archbishop tenison (1694-1716) removed the old stalls and substituted pews. he covered prior d'estria's screen with wainscotting, and erected a fine throne with carving by grinling gibbons. queen mary also added to the beauty of the cathedral by sundry costly gifts. in 1834 a new north-west tower was built. in 1872 a fire broke out in the roof, but happily no very extensive damage was done, and five years later sir g. scott began his restorations, which have removed some of the faults committed in the early eighteenth-century alterations. the exterior the best views are obtained from the mound in the dane john (or donjon--probably a fortified earthwork of norman times) approached by st. george's terrace, adjoining the cattle market, from the green or outer court of the monastery, and from the village of harbledown. the _west front_ is flanked by two towers. that on the north was built in 1840, as the former one, called the arundel, was in a dangerous condition; that on the south, called the dunstan, was finished by prior goldstone (1449-1468), and is in the perpendicular style, with characteristic panelling. a large window is in the centre of the front, and two smaller windows for the aisles, and above, in the gable, another window with elaborate tracery. the _south porch_ was built by prior chillenden about 1400. erasmus tells us that he saw figures of becket's murderers here, but these have disappeared. the niches have been filled with modern figures. proceeding along the south side of the church, we notice the perpendicular style of the nave and aisles, the work of prior chillenden, which replaced the old norman nave. there is a close resemblance between this and winchester, which was being constructed at the same time. all that remains here of lanfranc's nave is the lowest base of the aisle walls. the south-west transept is of the same date as the nave and has a large window on the south front with three tiers of panels over it, and an elaborate turret at the south-west corner. the south-east transept is late norman, the work of william of sens and william the englishman. here we have norman round-headed windows with arcades, also a circular window, and on the west a norman turret capped with a short spire. proceeding eastwards we see anselm's tower, and on the extreme east the corona, the work of english william. on the west henry iv.'s chantry, st. andrew's chapel, corresponding to that of st. anselm, the treasury, and the range of monastic buildings, consisting of library, chapter-house and cloisters, which we will examine later. a wall surrounded the precincts, the principal gate being that called _christ church_ gate, erected by goldstone in perpendicular style in 1517. the interior we enter the _nave_ by the south porch. lanfranc's nave was entirely removed in 1380 on account of its ruinous state, and the present nave erected by prior chillenden, who was employed and supported by archbishops sudbury, courtenay and arundel. as we have said, it resembled winchester, built at the same time, but it is lighter in character, as here the piers were built anew, and not cased with perpendicular work as at winchester. the height of the floor of the choir necessitated a lofty flight of steps leading to it from the nave; and this is a peculiar feature of this cathedral and of much beauty. the nave is very lofty, being 80 feet high. the great west window contains the fragments of old glass which have been brought together here. the rest of the stained glass is modern and hideous. in the north aisle are monuments of adrian saravia, the friend of hooker (1612), orlando gibbons, organist to charles i., sir john boys (1614), founder of a hospital, archbishop sumner (1862), who crowned queen victoria, and memorials of military men who died for their country. in the south aisle are monuments of dr. broughton, bishop of sydney, and dean lyall (1858). the central tower is supported by original norman piers, cased with perpendicular work at the time when the nave was built. the vault and all the upper part of the tower above the roof were erected by prior goldstone (1495-1517), and also the arches, which act as buttresses and bear the prior's rebus, three golden bars. the screen is fifteenth-century work and is remarkable for its beauty; formerly the figures of our lord and the twelve apostles occupied the upper niches, but these fell victims to puritan iconoclasm. the devastators spared, however, the figures of the kings in the lower tier. the _north-west transept_, or chapel of the _martyrdom of becket_, claims our close attention, as the event which occurred here filled christendom with amaze. the martyrdom of thomas à becket took place on tuesday, 29th december 1170. early in the morning the four barons had an interview with him, pretending to come on a peaceful visit with messages from the king. they were shown into the room in the palace where the archbishop usually remained. some high words passed between them and they departed; in the evening they entered the cathedral, armed. while the archbishop was ascending the steps, sir reginald fitzurse entered the door of the church, clad in complete armour, and, waving his sword, cried, "come hither, servants of the king!" the other conspirators, sir hugh morvill, sir william tracey and sir richard le breton, immediately followed him, armed to the teeth, and brandishing their swords. it was already twilight, which within the walls of the dimly-lighted church had deepened into the blackest obscurity. becket's attendants entreated him to fly to the winding staircase which led to the roof of the building, or to seek refuge in the vaults underground. he rejected both of these expedients and still stood to meet his assailants. "where is the traitor?" cried a voice. there was no answer. "where is the archbishop?" "here i am," replied becket; "but here is no traitor. what do ye in the house of god in warlike equipment?" one of the knights seized him by the sleeve; he pulled back his arm violently. they then advised him to go with them, as though they repented of the evil design. they called upon him to absolve the bishops. he refused; and fitzurse, drawing his sword, struck at his head. the blow was intercepted by the arm of one of the monks who stepped forward to protect him, but in vain. a second blow descended, and while the blood was streaming from his face some one of his assailants whispered to him to fly and save himself. becket paid no heed to the speaker, but clasped his hands and bowed his head, commending his soul to god and the saints. the conspirators now fell upon him with their swords and quickly despatched him. one of them is said to have kicked the prostrate body, saying, "so perishes a traitor." the deed thus accomplished, the conspirators passed out of the town without hindrance, but no sooner had they done so than the news spread throughout the city and the inhabitants, in the utmost excitement and indignation, assembled in crowds in the streets and ran towards the cathedral. seeing the body of their archbishop stretched before the altar, men and women began to weep, and while some kissed his hands and feet others dipped linen in the blood with which the pavement was covered. it was declared by the people that becket was a martyr, and although a royal edict was published forbidding anyone to express such an opinion, the popular feeling still manifested itself. some soldiers attempted to seize the corpse, but the monks, who had received an intimation of the design, buried it hastily in the crypt of the cathedral. since that eventful scene the transept has been rebuilt. the stones around us, except it be the pavement, did not witness that bloody deed. when the nave was rebuilt by chillenden this part of the church was much transformed. portions of the old norman walls built by lanfranc remain, but the main character of the building is perpendicular. the door is the same by which the murderers entered, part of the wall, and probably the pavement, wherein is a small square piece which marks the actual spot where becket fell. the great window was given by edward iv., and has figures of his queen, his daughters, and the two princes who were murdered in the tower. the west window is modern, and represents scenes from the life of becket. there are monuments here of archbishop peckham (1292), the oldest in the cathedral, and archbishop warham (1532), who crowned henry viii., and was the opponent of wolsey and the friend of erasmus. a door at the east end of this transept leads to the _dean's chapel_, formerly the lady chapel, built by goldstone in perpendicular style. the monuments here are to dean fotherby, dr. bargrave, dean boys with his books, and dean turner, a favourite of charles i. the daily crowd of pilgrims who visited the scene of the martyrdom in mediæval times used to pass on to the shrine of st. thomas by the north choir aisle, on their way to his shrine, and we will follow in their steps. in this aisle we see much of the original norman work of archbishop anselm's choir, erected under the supervision of prior ernulf. william of sens added many architectural details and made some alterations, but he seems to have intended to preserve the special features of the earlier work. the roof was, however, raised, and the clerestory of ernulf's building converted into the triforium windows of william of sens. the latter brought with him the use of the chisel, the former carving his ruder ornamentation by means of an axe. william also introduced the pointed arch. here is the monument of archbishop tait. three "squints" will be observed in the west wall. two apsidal chapels are at the east end, dedicated to ss. stephen and martin. in the aisle there is some ancient glass of thirteenth-century work, which is of extreme beauty, also an old desk with ancient bible. an ancient mural painting should be noticed, representing the conversion of st. hubert. next we visit the _chapel of st. andrew_, now the vestry, which has some traces of colour decoration. it was built by prior ernulf, and was formerly the sacristy, where relics of becket were preserved in a chest, together with a quantity of vestments. beyond this, to the north, was the treasury, which was well protected by a massive door. the treasures of costly plate and jewels at canterbury were of enormous value. in the aisle on the south side there is the splendid tomb of archbishop chichele (1443), whom shakespeare represents in _henry v._ as instigating the war with france, and who was the founder of all souls', oxford. also there are monuments of archbishop howley (1848) and archbishop bourchier (1486). up lofty steps, climbed by pilgrims on their knees, we ascend to the _retro-choir_, the work of william the englishman, the successor of william of sens. _holy trinity chapel_ occupies the centre, where stood the wondrous shrine of becket. architecturally it is interesting as showing the triumph of english achievement over the foreign influence, and the gradual development of the english gothic style; and historically it is fascinating as being the goal of pilgrims from all quarters of the land. the famous shrine has entirely disappeared, owing to the cupidity of henry viii. and his commissioners. some idea of what it was like is given by a representation of it in one of the windows of the chapel. there was a stone base with marble arches, and above the shrine covered with a wooden canopy, "which at a given signal was drawn up, and the shrine then appeared, blazing with gold and damasked with gold wire, and embossed with innumerable pearls and jewels and rings, cramped together on this gold ground." one great diamond or carbuncle was as large as a hen's egg, called the _regale of france_, and presented by louis vii. all the monarchs and nobles in mediæval times came here to worship, and crowds flocked from all quarters "the holy blissful martyr for to seek"; the pavement is worn by their knees; cripples begged to rub their limbs against the pillars of the holy shrine, and perchance were healed--faith plays a wondrous part in many a cure--and chaucer sings of the tales and doings of the not always very austere canterbury pilgrims. the windows of this chapel contain some of the best thirteenth-century glass in existence. they record miracles wrought by becket. above the shrine is a gilded crescent, concerning which many theories have been suggested, none wholly satisfactory. [illustration tomb of the black prince] in this chapel is the monument of _edward, the black prince_ (1376), who fought at creçy and poictiers, one of the bravest of our national heroes. the effigy is of brass and was once gilded, and represents the prince in full armour. the head rests on a casque, and the features of the plantagenets are distinctly traceable. above the tomb is a canopy, having on it a representation of the trinity, and above that are the remains of dress and armour actually worn by the prince--his helmet, a shield, a velvet surcoat, gauntlets, and the scabbard of the sword. on the tomb is an inscription in norman french which, translated, tells: "here lies the most noble prince edward, eldest son of the most noble king edward iii., prince of aquitaine and wales, duke of cornwall and earl of chester, who died on trinity sunday, the 8th of june 1376. to the soul of whom god grant mercy.--amen." then follow some verses written by the prince, which begin:- "tu que passez ove bouche close pur la ou c'est corps repose, entent ce qe te dirray, sicome te dire la say," and proceed to contrast the riches and glory of this present life with the mouldering and decay of death. below are seen shields of arms which bear those of france and england, and the ostrich or prince of wales's feathers, with the motto _houmont ich diene_. both welsh and german origin is claimed for the motto. dean stanley preferred the latter, and stated that _houmont_ meant _high-spirited_, while the latter words signify _i serve_. another interesting tomb is that of henry iv. (1413), and his second wife, joan of navarre (1437). the tomb was opened in 1832, and the body of the dead king discovered in wonderful preservation. he founded the chantry near his tomb. some vestments taken from a tomb are preserved in this chapel. other memorials are those of dean wotton, by bernini; cardinal coligny, whose brother fell in the massacre of st. bartholomew, and who was poisoned by his servant; archbishop courtenay, the oppressor of the lollards, who is represented in archiepiscopal robes, with his mitre and crosier. the _corona_ at the extreme east end is a beautiful piece of work, accomplished by english william. it is in the form of a circular apse, and has a triforium and clerestory. for some obscure reason it has been popularly called "becket's crown," possibly from the presence here of some relic of the martyr. here were the shrines of archbishop odo and st. wilfrid of york, and here is the tomb of cardinal pole, archbishop in the time of mary, a plain brick monument, plastered over with the inscription: "the body of cardinal pole." turning to the _south choir_ aisle, which resembles the north, we see the _chapel of st. anselm_, formerly that of ss. peter and paul. it resembles that of st. andrew, and was built by ernulf, and probably restored after the great fire. behind the altar was buried the great anselm, one of the most saintly and renowned prelates who ever occupied the see of augustine. the south window is decorated, inserted by prior d'estria in 1336. there is a monument here of archbishop simon de mepham (1333), whom we shall hear of again at exeter, when his visitation was resisted by the arrogant bishop grandisson; and also of archbishop bradwardine (1349). above this chapel is the _watching chamber_, where a monk was stationed to guard the shrines. proceeding along the aisle on the right are monuments of archbishop sudbury (1381), beheaded in the wat tyler rebellion; archbishop stratford (1348) and archbishop kemp (1454). the _south-east transept_ is similar to the northern one. the walls are the work of ernulf. it is to william of sens, however, that we have to attribute the architectural details. there are apsidal chapels dedicated to ss. john and gregory, the remains of archbishop winchelsey's tomb (1313); and the "patriarchal chair," erroneously called "st. augustine's." in the aisle on the left are two tombs said to be those of archbishop hubert walter, who accompanied richard i. on a crusade, and archbishop reynolds (1327), the friend of edward ii. the _south-west transept_ was rebuilt at the same time as the nave by chillenden. on the east of this is the _warrior chapel_, dedicated to st. michael. its style is perpendicular, _circa_ 1370, and was probably erected by chillenden. here is the monument of stephen langton (1228), who wrested from king john the magna charta. the position is curious, only the head of the tomb appearing through the wall. other monuments are those of john beaufort, earl of somerset, half brother of henry iv. (1409), and thomas of clarence, second son of the same king, killed in battle in 1421, erected by the widow of both; lady thornhurst (1609) and sir thomas, sir john rooke, one of the heroes of the capture of gibraltar, and some military trophies and memorials. [illustration the crypt.] the _crypt_ is one of the finest in england, built before 1085. there is here some very fine norman work, the western portion was constructed mainly by ernulf, though there is some of the work of lanfranc also here. the carving was executed after the stones were set in their places, and we can see that some of the carving was left unfinished, the designs having been roughly traced out. the portion of the crypt east of the trinity chapel is the work of english william (1178-1184). the chapel of our lady undercroft is enclosed by some late perpendicular open stone-work, and was very magnificent. only privileged pilgrims were allowed to see the wealth of precious stones and costly ornaments with which this wondrous shrine was adorned. in the crypt is the monument of lady mohun of dunstar (1395), the chantry founded by the black prince, st. john's chapel, the tomb of isabel, countess of athole (1229). here becket's body was hastily buried by the monks after his murder; it remained here for fifty years, and was resorted to by the crowds of pilgrims, and here henry ii. endured his penance, receiving five strokes of a rod from each bishop and abbot present, and three from each of the eighty monks, and remaining all the night fasting, resting against one of the pillars. queen elizabeth gave the flemish refugees the use of the crypt both as a place of worship and as a home for their industry. here they plied their busy looms, and in their moments of leisure wrote inscriptions on the walls. the descendants of these settlers still live in canterbury, and use part of the crypt as their chapel. the monastic buildings canterbury was a benedictine monastery. we enter the _cloisters_ from the north transept, which are mainly perpendicular in style, though occupying the site of the old norman buildings, and containing remains of earlier work. chillenden, the builder of the nave, is responsible for all the perpendicular work. the _chapter-house_ was rebuilt on norman lines late in the thirteenth century, and re-ceiled and re-windowed in the fourteenth by chillenden. the ceiling is composed of panels of irish oak. unfortunately a severe restoration in 1897 has somewhat vulgarised its former beautiful features. at the east end there is the beautiful priors' sedilia, with glass mosaics on the spandrels of the throne. after the reformation the chapter-house was used for preachings, and acquired the name of the sermon-house. on the north of the garth was the refectory, the entrance to which may be seen, and also the remains of the monks' lavatory. passing along we see the priors', now known as the green court, a large open space surrounded with the remains of the domestic buildings of the monastery. the deanery, previously part of the priors' lodgings, is on the east, and the south was also occupied by the dormitory and refectory, with kitchens. on the west is the porter's gate, a norman structure, with curious ornamentation. the very interesting late _norman staircase_ leading to the hall of the grammar school should be examined. returning, we traverse the passage north of the chapter-house, and come to the _lavatory tower_--erroneously called the baptistry--of late norman construction, built by prior wibert for supplying the various buildings with water, and adjoining this is the _library_, which possesses a fine collection of books. a very interesting ms. is the charter of eadred (949 a.d.), written by dunstan; there is an ancient portrait of queen edgiva (late fourteenth century). the remains of the infirmary and the garden of the monastery may also be seen; and an arched doorway in palace street is all that remains of the once famous archbishop's palace, which was inhabited by so many distinguished prelates, and the scene of so many events in english history. it was destroyed during the commonwealth period. dimensions total length 522 ft. (inside, 514 ft.) length of nave 178 ft. width of nave 71 ft. length of choir 180 ft. height of nave 80 ft. height of central tower 235 ft. height of west tower 130 ft. principal building dates nave (1378-1411), prior chillenden. choir (1174-1184), william of sens and english william. choir-screen (1304-1305), prior d'estria. towers of st. andrew and anselm, prior ernulf. retro-choir and corona (1178-1184), english william. crypt, west part (1070-1109), lanfranc and ernulf. crypt, east part (1178-1184), english william. central tower (1495), prior goldstone. [illustration plan of canterbury cathedral] other churches and objects of interest _st. martin's church_, traditionally said to be the oldest church in the kingdom, is certainly of great antiquity. a large number of roman bricks are built up in the walls. it contains a stone coffin, in which it is said that queen bertha lies, the wife of king ethelbert, converted by augustine, but this is improbable. the font is saxon, and it is, according to tradition, which is not very reliable, the font in which ethelbert was baptised. _st. augustine's college_ for missionaries was formerly the monastery of st. augustine. the earliest house was dedicated to ss. peter and paul, said to have been founded by augustine. dunstan enlarged it, and added the founder's name to the dedication. it became very rich and important. the buildings were destroyed by the danes, but they arose again in greater glory, and at the dissolution of monasteries the house became a royal palace. the buildings are well worthy of a visit. _st. dunstan's church._ the _west gate_, built by archbishop sudbury, _temp._ richard ii. _holy cross church._ _st. peter's church._ _st. thomas's hospital_ for entertainment of pilgrims. the remains of the old _chequers inn_ at the south-west corner of mercery lane, can be traced, and a portion of it is incorporated in the house known as grafton house. there are some fine old houses in this street, anciently called _la merceri_, each stone projecting outwards, so as almost to meet at the top, typical of an old english city street. winchester cathedral the city of winchester, the ancient capital of england, the caer gwent of the britons, the venta belgarum of the romans, the royal city of alfred the great and of william the conqueror, was a place of vast importance in the annals of england. under cnut it was the capital of a kingdom stretching across the seas to scandinavia, and under the normans a large part of france was in subjection to it. here kings were born and royal weddings celebrated with great pomp in its grand cathedral. if royal patronage could have preserved the glories of ancient winchester, it would have remained the capital of england; but london was the centre of the commercial activity of the country, and in the end winchester was forced to yield supremacy to its more powerful rival. its ecclesiastical history is no less important. a british church here is said to have been destroyed during the diocletian persecution (a.d. 266) and restored subsequently and dedicated to st. amphibalus, the martyr. heathendom returned with the saxons, until they were converted by st. berinus, and by the baptism of king kynegils the triumph of christianity was assured. he built a new cathedral, which was again rebuilt by bishop ethelbold (980) and consecrated by dunstan, and this church remained until the norman builders came with the conqueror, and began, under his kinsman, walkelin, to erect that stately fane which we are now about to visit. winchester is unlike salisbury, which was, for the most part, completed in one period of architecture; the former was the work of several builders at different eras. a large part of the early norman cathedral remains; the crypt and transepts and the core of the walls being all norman work. the eastern aisles and chapels are the work of bishop de lucy (1189-1204), built in the early english style, during the troubled reigns of richard i. and john; the noble nave was begun by bishop edingdon in 1345, and not finished until the time of waynflete, in 1496, while the dawn of the reformation saw the building of the side aisles of the presbytery and the east part of the lady chapel. the celebrated william of wykeham, bishop of winchester, chancellor of edward iii., the founder of the colleges of winchester and new (oxford), was the chief architect of the nave. we approach the cathedral by an avenue of stately elms, and reach the west door. the best exterior view is obtained from the north side of the close. the tower is low massive norman work, built in the time of the first henry, the first tower having fallen, as some said, because william rufus, the bad king, was buried beneath it. the west front has been recently restored. it is evidently perpendicular work, and was probably constructed by bishop edingdon. on entering we are struck by the grandeur and impressiveness of this noble nave: winchester is the largest cathedral in england. the whole church is 556 feet in length, and nearly 400 feet of magnificent stone-vault is visible from the west doorway. this nave presents some architectural problems. the style is evidently perpendicular work of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, but the builders of that period transformed much of the original norman work, which still remains in the piers and walls, into that of the later style. they did not rebuild, but transformed, adding new mouldings, casing, and concealing, though not obliterating, the ancient norman features. we can trace the work of the successive builders. bishop edingdon entirely rebuilt the west front and extreme west portion. examine the two west windows of the north aisle, and compare them with the third, the work of william of wykeham, and notice their heavy and less graceful appearance. wykeham was responsible for the complete transformation of the nave, but lived only long enough to complete the south side. notice the thickness of the piers. this was caused by casing the norman piers with perpendicular stone-work, and the balcony above the arches was necessitated by the work of reconstruction. wykeham's successor, cardinal beaufort (uncle of henry v., the "rich cardinal," as men called him, one of joan of arc's judges, but withal not so base a man as shakespeare depicts), continued, and bishop waynflete, the founder of magdalen college, oxford, completed that magnificent structure which we now see. on each side of the west door are bronze statues of charles i. and james i. by le sueur. on the bosses of the roof we see some armorial bearings; the lily (the arms of magdalen college) is the device of waynflete, and the arms of wykeham, beaufort, john of gaunt and richard ii. (white hart chained) are there represented. the minstrels' gallery or tribune, erected by edingdon, is at the west end of the north aisle, and the oldest piece of iron grill-work in england of very good design is seen in a neighbouring door. the font is norman work, the sculptures representing scenes from the life of st. nicholas of myra, together with doves and the salamander. the chantry chapels on the south side of the nave are extremely interesting: (1) bishop edingdon's chantry (1345-1366), (2) william of wykeham's chantry, which is very beautifully designed. we see the effigy of the distinguished prelate with two angels holding the pillow under his head, and three monks at his feet praying for his soul. some modern statues have been added at the east end and an ingenious chronogram. in the south aisle there are two monuments by flaxman (henrietta north and dr. warton), and one to the once famous bishop hoadley, the founder of the bangorian controversy, which shows the magna charta by the side of the bible and the cap of liberty contending with the pastoral staff. some heroes of the crimean war are also commemorated. there are memorials of mrs. montagu, the founder of the "blue stockings," and of jane austen. the pulpit is jacobean, and was brought here from new college, oxford. the screen separating the nave from the choir is modern. the bronze figures of james i. and charles i. formed part of an older screen erected by inigo jones. cromwell's soldiers wrought havoc here as in many other churches and cathedrals. they broke the windows and woodwork, desecrated shrines, and paid much attention to this statue of their king. on entering the choir we find ourselves immediately beneath the tower, which, as we have observed, is late norman work, and notice the immense piers which support it. the former tower having fallen, the builders were determined not to have a similar misfortune, and therefore built these piers abnormally strong and massive. the ceiling was erected in the time of charles i. (1634), and bears medallions of that ill-fated monarch and his queen. beyond the tower we see the piers and arches and clerestory of the presbytery, which belong to the late decorated period. the noble reredos belongs to the fifteenth century, and has been recently restored, the vacant niches being again filled with statuary. in the centre is the figure of our lord upon the cross, with the virgin and st. john. on each side of the altar are ss. hedda and ethelwolf, and in the spandrels of the two doorways some ancient sculptures of the life of the virgin. above are figures of ss. swithun and berinus, and above the doors ss. benedict and giles, and ss. stephen and lawrence. in the highest row are ss. peter and paul and the four latin doctors. there are numerous smaller statues of kings and prelates. the whole appearance of the screen is very magnificent. the woodwork of the stalls is the most perfect in the kingdom, and was constructed in the closing years of the thirteenth century. the carved foliage is remarkable for its grace and elegance. notice the carved heads and the monkeys and other animals playing amidst the branches. the _misereres_ are interesting, and are earlier than the canopies. the pulpit was presented by one "thomas silkstede, prior," whose name it bears. in the centre of the presbytery we see the supposed tomb of william rufus, who was accidentally killed by an arrow when hunting in the new forest. his ashes, however, do not rest beneath this stone, but are preserved in the chests above the screen, together with the bones of canute and some saxon prelates. cromwell's soldiers rifled the tomb and found therein a chalice, which sacred vessel was usually placed in the coffins of bishops and therefore could not have belonged to the grave of the red-haired monarch. bishop fox (1500-1520) did much for this part of the cathedral. he placed the glass in the east window, which has been much modified. glass painting at this period had attained its highest perfection as an art, and in its original condition this window must have been unrivalled. the stone screens on each side of the presbytery were also erected by fox, and six mortuary chests containing the bones of saxon kings and bishops are placed upon them. amongst the bones of other illustrious men are deposited in a mingled state the mortal remains of kynegils, ethelwolf, the father of alfred the great, egbert, canute, and many others. the soldiers of cromwell played havoc with these bones of kings, and scattered them about the cathedral, hence it is impossible to be certain that these chests actually contain the mortal remains of those whose names they bear. the vault of the presbytery is wooden, and the bosses are interesting. behind the reredos is the feretory or place for the shrines of patron saints, with a stone platform at its east end on which formerly stood the shrines of st. swithun[6] and st. berinus. [illustration winchester cathedral] pilgrims used to pass in procession before these shrines along the stone passage. a collection of fragments of carved work is shown here. we now visit the north transept and find ourselves in the earliest portion of the cathedral, built by bishop walkelin in the old norman style. the windows were inserted in the decorated period, and the ceiling belongs to the last century. the transepts have aisles on the east and west sides and also at each end, over which is a gallery. this is not common in england. at st. alban's there is a similar arrangement, and in several normandy churches. the norman work of the transepts is of two periods. the earlier part by walkelin (1070-1098) is distinguished by the smaller piers and plain groined vaulting; the later (1107) by the ribbed vaulting and larger piers. when we visit ely cathedral we shall notice the similarity of design, the transepts of that building having been erected by simeon, walkelin's brother. under the organ-loft is the chapel of the holy sepulchre. notice the curious mural paintings representing the passion of our lord which date from the thirteenth century, and the decorated canopies built against the norman piers. we now enter the north aisle of the presbytery and proceed to the extreme eastern portion of the cathedral. here seven chantries and chapels are seen which record the memory of illustrious prelates. "how much power and ambition under half-a-dozen stones! i own i grow to look on tombs as lasting mansions, instead of observing them for curious pieces of architecture," wrote walpole. almost all the east end was built by bishop godfrey de lucy (1189-1204) at the beginning of the early english period and is of exquisite design. the north chapel is called that of the guardian angels, and is so named from figures of angels in the vaulting. there is a bronze figure of the earl of portland here, the treasurer of charles i. notice the figure holding a heart. it represents bishop ethelmar, half-brother of henry iii., who died in paris but directed that his heart should be conveyed to this cathedral. the lady chapel has work of divers periods--north and south walls early english (de lucy), east wall and window with small eastern parts of north and south walls perpendicular (prior hunton, 1470-1498, and prior silkstede, 1498-1524). the rebuses of these two priors on the vault are curious: t. _hun_ and a ton (thomas hunton), and 1 and _por_ for prior; t. _silk_ and a horse (thomas silkstede). mural paintings by the latter prior representing the legends of the virgin adorn the walls. the panelling is the work of bishop fox. the south chapel (early english) is the chantry of bishop langton, who died of the plague in 1500, just before he was translated to the archbishopric of canterbury. the woodwork of the stalls is very beautiful. the pikes of cromwell's soldiers wrought havoc here, and we notice that just above the height they could reach with their weapons the woodwork is uninjured. mediæval artists were fond of puns and rebuses, and here we have langton's name represented by a _long_ (or musical) note with a _ton_, and a _vine_ and _ton_ for winton or winchester. winton is also represented by a dragon coming from a ton, referring to solomon's warning against the wine that is red which biteth like a serpent, etc. an object of much interest is preserved here--queen mary's chair upon which she sat when she was married to philip of spain in the lady chapel. on that occasion there was much feasting and rejoicing in winchester, though the nation liked not the spanish marriage, and much ill came to england through that ill-starred connection. de lucy's tomb in the centre of the retro-choir looks upon the noble work which he built for his beloved cathedral. on the north of the central aisle is the chantry of waynflete, the founder of magdalen college, oxford; on the south that of cardinal beaufort. both were much injured by the soldiers. between these is the effigy of a knight in armour, sir a. de gavaston, the father of the favourite of edward ii. notice the wall at the back of the feretory, with its beautiful tabernacle work of decorated period, under which images once stood. the names of the worthies appear below. "the holy hole" formerly led to the crypt but has now been closed. on the north side of this wall is bishop gardiner's chantry, who was the leader of the roman catholic party at the reformation and was styled the "hammer of heretics." he took a leading part in the marian persecutions. on the south side is the chantry of bishop fox (1500-1528), the founder of corpus christi college, oxford, who bore the pelican as a device. the south wall of the south aisle of the presbytery is late perpendicular work. another instance of heart burial is recorded on the wall opposite, that of bishop nicholas of ely (1280), and an inscription tells of the burial of richard, son of william the conqueror, who was killed while hunting in the new forest. we now enter the south transept, the architectural features of which are similar to those of the north transept. silkstede's chantry should be visited. this worthy prior loved a rebus, and here carved a skein of _silk_ to represent his name, also the letters thomas appear on the screen, the ma being formed differently from the rest to represent his patroness, mary the virgin. isaac walton's tomb is here, the author of the _angler_. there are some good mural paintings. the monument of bishop wilberforce forms a conspicuous object in the transept. adjoining silkstede's chapel is the venerable chapel, with a fine screen. on the west side are the chapter-room and the old treasury. passing through the chamber on the south we enter the slype. [illustration the cathedral west front.] the library has some treasures, notably a vulgate of the twelfth century and some valuable mss. the crypt is entirely norman work, except the east part, which is early english. the cloisters and old chapter-house were destroyed in 1563. the deanery was formerly the home of the prior; its entrance belongs to the time of henry iii., and the hall within the house to the fifteenth century. over the dean's stables is a long room which was probably the guest-house for pilgrims; rude carvings can be seen on the beams of the roof probably made by the pilgrims. dimensions total length, 556 ft.; length of nave, 262 ft.; width of nave and aisles, 88 ft.; height of vault, 78 ft.; area, 53,480 sq. ft. principal building dates 1079-1093--transepts, crypt and cores of piers and wall; 1120--central tower rebuilt; 1202--retro-choir and eastern chapels; 1320--presbytery rebuilt; 1360--west front and two bays of nave; 1394-1486--nave reconstructed; 1487--east end of lady chapel; 1520--alterations in presbytery by bishop fox. other objects of interest in winchester- the _school_, founded by william of wykeham; the _hospital of st. cross_, founded by henry de blois in 1136; _hyde abbey_, the resting-place of the body of alfred the great; the _county hall_, with the so-called round table of king arthur; _wolvesey castle_, the ancient episcopal palace. [illustration plan of winchester cathedral] footnote: [6] st. swithun became bishop in 837; he was "a diligent builder of churches in places where there were none before, and a repairer of those that had been destroyed before." in modern times his name is best known as a weather prophet; according to the tradition that if it is fine or wet on st. swithun's day (july 15th) the same weather will last for the next forty days. the legend arose from the moving of his body from the lowly grave in the churchyard to its golden shrine in the cathedral being delayed on account of continued rain. chichester cathedral chichester, like most of our cathedral cities, has a long history dating back to the time of the romans. the roman town stood on the line of the road now known as stane street, and seems to have been a populous place where trade was carried on, and not merely a military station. a marble slab discovered in 1713 (preserved at goodwood) bears an inscription which tells us much of the roman city and runs as follows: _neptuni et minervæ templum pro salute domus divinæ ex auctoritate tih. claud. cogidubni r. leg. aug. in brit. collegium fabror. et qui in eo a sacris sunt d. s. d. donante aream pudente pudentini fil_. much has been made of this inscription, that there was a temple here dedicated to neptune and minerva, that there was a large body of craftsmen who built this temple, and that chichester was the seat of king cogidubnus mentioned by tacitus as possessing independent authority in britain. when the pagan saxons under ælla came they destroyed the place. "ælle and cissa," says the chronicle, "beset anderida[7] and slew all that were therein, nor was there afterwards one briton left," and overran the coast, establishing the kingdom of the south saxons, or sussex. then cissa, having captured the old roman city, made it the capital of his kingdom, calling the place _cissan-caestre_, or the fortress of cissa, now corrupted to chichester. this was at the close of the fifth century. shut in by the great forest of anderida, these south saxons retained their paganism long after the advent of augustine and the conversion of other parts of the country. st. wilfrid was shipwrecked on their coast, but they fiercely attacked the crew of the vessel, which escaped with difficulty from the perilous coast owing to the prayers of the saint. thirty years later he returned and converted them to christianity. a famine raged owing to long draught. he taught them to fish in the sea, and so won their confidence, and on the day when their chiefs came to be baptised rain fell and the famine ceased. the island of selsey or seal's island was given to the saint, where he founded a monastery and became the first bishop of the south saxons. until the conquest selsey remained the seat of the bishopric. the last saxon prelate, ethelric, though he was a learned, and moreover a very aged man, received harsh treatment from william i. he was deprived of his bishopric and imprisoned. then came stigand, who moved the bishop's throne to chichester, and made the minster church of st. peter's monastery his cathedral. the waves of the sea now roll over the site of the early saxon church. ralph de luffa, the third norman prelate (1091-1123), began the building of the present cathedral. fire played havoc with the newly-erected church in 1114, four years after its completion, but ralph again set to work to restore it. it was consecrated in 1148, twenty-five years after his death. he was a noble bishop, and accomplished much for his diocese and for the church of england in the time of the tyranny of norman kings. fire again raged in 1186, which prepared the way for the alterations and improvements of the transitional builders who were developing the beauties of english gothic. bishop seffrid, the second who bore that name, was the director of the work, which shows the purist style of the twelfth century. the triforium, the upper storey of the western towers (the present north-west tower is a modern imitation of the south-west tower) and the lower storey of the central tower are mainly his work. this bishop had the doubtful honour of crowning king john. bishop neville (1224-1244) designed and began to build the spire, and the lady chapel was partly constructed by bishop gilbert de st. leofard (1288-1304). john de langton, bishop (1305-1336), who was a skilful architect, finished the retro-choir and the south wing of the transept. by this time the cathedral had assumed much of its present form. the apsidal chapels in the choir had been made to assume the more english form of square-ended buildings. the thirteenth-century bishops who accomplished all this excellent work were remarkable men. bishop simon fitz robert (1204-1207) obtained many benefactions for his see, and grants of stone from the isle of purbeck for the beautifying of his church. richard poore, the noble builder of salisbury, was here for two years, and bishop neville worked hard during his episcopacy for his church, and built a palace for his see in london which stood on the site of lincoln's inn. st. richard de wych was an excellent bishop (1245-1253), who reformed his diocese with some severity, and ordered his flock to contribute liberally to the building fund of his cathedral. "st. richard's pence" afterwards became a fruitful source of income. bishop gilbert de st. leofard followed in his steps, and, as we have said, built the main parts of the lady chapel, which is of decorated style. the work of the fourteenth century was rather that of adornment than of construction. we find bishop langton (1305-1337), the suppressor of the templars, inserting a beautiful window in the south transept, and building the chapter-house. a little later a noble reredos was erected behind the altar, the choir stalls added, and some changes made in the window tracery. the founder of merton college library, william read, was bishop here in 1369-1385. lollardism was rampant in the diocese, and bishop robert rede (1397-1415) took strong steps to uproot the obnoxious teaching. the beginning of the fifteenth century saw arising the detached bell tower, called raymond's tower, the only existing detached belfry in the kingdom. some of the bishops of chichester at this time fared ill. bishop moleyns (1446-1450), who helped henry vi. to marry margaret of anjou, was murdered by some sailors at portsmouth, and his successor, peacocke (1450-1459), was tried on account of his supposed heretical opinions and deprived. bishop storey (1478-1503) was the builder of the famous market cross and the grammar school. bishop sherbourne (1508-1536) who favoured not the "new religion," employed the bernardi, an italian family who had previously settled in flanders, to decorate his church, and we shall see some of their work in the cathedral. then came the trouble of the reformation period, when altars were destroyed, shrines pillaged of their gold and ornaments, and the whole church ransacked of its treasures. further spoliation and destruction were wrought by the parliamentary soldiers under waller, who "plundered the cathedral, seized upon the vestments and ornaments of the church, together with the consecrated plate serving for the altar; they left not so much as a cushion for the pulpit, nor a chalice for the blessed sacraments; the common soldiers broke down the organs, and dashing the pipes with their poleaxes, scoffingly said, 'hark, how the organs go!' ... on the tuesday following, after the sermon, possessed and transported by a bacchanalian fury, they ran up and down the church with their swords drawn, defacing the monuments of the dead, hacking and hewing the seats and stalls, and scraping the painted walls. sir william waller and the rest of the commanders standing by as spectators and approvers of their barbarous impieties." bishop king was prelate at this time; his palace and goods were destroyed, and he was treated with cruel indignity. in the seventeenth-century the north-west tower fell, and the central tower was so insecure that the upper part of the spire was removed and rebuilt by wren. since then several attempts at reparation have been made. at length in 1860 a terrible disaster befell, and the central tower and spire collapsed. it was rebuilt by sir g. scott with much care, and may be said to be an exact copy of the old, and in addition to other improvements the north-west tower has been rebuilt. [illustration chichester] the exterior the best views may be obtained from the city wall to the north, also from west street and east street, and a fine distant prospect is observed from the goodwood downs. we will begin our inspection as usual with the _west front_, which consists of a gable with windows and porch, flanked by two towers. the upper part of the north-west tower is a recent construction, made in imitation of the south-west tower, and built on the ruins of the former tower. the south tower is of norman workmanship, the upper part being early english, and also the plain and heavy buttresses at the south-west corner. the basement and next storey are part of the original work of bishop ralph, and the rest of bishop seffrid ii. the west porch is plain and deep, with double buttresses at the corners. the doorway consists of a wide arch, under which are two smaller ones divided by a single clustered column. these have been restored in imitation of the ancient design. the interior of the porch is very beautiful early english work, the arcading of quatrefoils being very effective. the monuments have evidently been placed there in later times. above the porch are three early english windows, and above these a large modern window, and in the gable are two small early english windows. the cross above is modern. the _bell tower_, the only instance in england of a detached belfry, though not unusual abroad, is a massive and plain building, 120 feet high. the upper storey is octagonal and low, and resembles the great west tower of ely, but is much inferior. both these towers were built about the same time, at the beginning of the fifteenth century, and are in the perpendicular style. the north side of the nave exhibits in the clerestory the round-headed windows of the original norman church. the parapet is fourteenth-century work. flying buttresses connect the clerestory with the outer wall. the windows of the chapels are early decorated, and were erected during the reign of edward iii. one of them is modern. the _north porch_ is early english work, and the dog-tooth ornament is observable in the arches. it has a parvise. the _north transept_ on the west side has some of the original norman wall and norman windows, and on the north end there are thirteenth-century buttresses with octagonal turrets, a large window and a rose window over it. on the east side there are some early english windows. proceeding eastward we pass the chapels of st. edmund and st. john baptist, of early english design, with some perpendicular windows, the same style prevailing in the presbytery. flying buttresses support the main walls. the old norman church ended in an apse, and traces of the curve can still be observed, and other remains of twelfth-century work can be seen. two of the windows are perpendicular in style, but have been much restored. the low lady chapel projects at the east end. two western bays are twelfth-century work, the two eastern bays being added by bishop gilbert de st. leofard at the end of the thirteenth century, and are late decorated. much restoration has been found necessary here. early english work prevails in the chapel on the south side. the south wall of the choir aisle has several points of interest and several styles of architecture are shown here. a consecration cross can be seen in one of the bays. the south transept is very similar to the north, and on the west of it is the sacristy. norman walls are on the north and east, and early english on south and west. on the south side of the cathedral are the _cloisters_, which are curiously shaped. the paradise is not square, the east walk being longer than the west. these cloisters are fifteenth-century work, having perpendicular windows and flat roof. the south side of the nave is interesting, and resembles somewhat the north side. the arches of the windows in the aisles are early decorated, the tracery is modern. in the fourteenth century the buttresses were strengthened and enlarged, the parapet added. the norman wall and windows remain in the clerestory, though later tracery has been inserted in two of these. the south porch leading to the west cloister has been much restored. the doorway in the south-west tower is norman, and is adorned with chevron moulding, and beautifully designed. the window over it is also of the same date. the interior the interior is more imposing than the exterior. the best view is perhaps obtained from north-east corner of the nave. the width of the nave is the first peculiarity which we notice. it has double aisles on each side of the nave, a peculiarity shared only with manchester, and some parish churches, such as abingdon, taunton and coventry. there are some grand effects of light and shade, and the nave is well proportioned, and has a quiet dignity which is all its own. there are eight circular arches, supported by seven flat piers, isolated and flanked by half columns of cylindrical character with plain capitals and cable moulding. purbeck marble is extensively used in the string-courses and capitals of the vaulting shafts. the triforium preserves its norman character. here are the norman circular arches, containing two smaller arches resting on single shafts. the surface of the stone in the head is hatched as at rochester. there is a striking analogy between chichester and peterborough, both in the nave and choir. both were destroyed by fire, and both rebuilt about the same time. the main arcade and triforium are the work of bishop ralph de luffa (1091-1124). bishop seffrid ii. (1180-1204) rebuilt the clerestory, and made it loftier than the triforium. the style is early english. it will be noticed that the middle arch of the windows is round and higher than the side arches, which are pointed. the windows are separated by small shafts of petworth marble, and the capitals are carved with leaves of palm trees. the cathedral is dedicated to the holy trinity, and the builders seem to have wished to express symbolically the threefold nature of the deity by the triplicity of the work. triple clustered shafts appear everywhere. the vaulting is of stone, and is a little later than seffrid's work. alarmed by the fires, the architect determined to build a stone and chalk roof instead of wood. in the sixteenth century this vaulting was painted in gaudy colours by bishop sherbourne. two storeys of the south-west tower are original norman work, with rude cushion capitals, and formed part of the first church finished by bishop ralph. this is used as a baptistry, and has a modern font, an imitation of that at shoreham. in the _south aisle_ are the chapels of st. george and st. clement. the latter has been restored in memory of the last good bishop, durnford. the figures placed in the old wall arcade are ss. anselm, clement and alphege. the old piscina and aumbrey remain, as also in the other chapel. the chapels were added in the second half of the thirteenth century. the _north aisle_ resembles the south. here were the chapels of st. anne, st. theobald or the four virgins, and ss. thomas and edmund. the screen, pulpit and lectern are all modern, and also the glass. the _monuments_ here are:--in the south aisle, bishop durnford (1895), and captain cromwell (flaxman); and in the north aisle, poet collins, richard fitz-alan, earl of arundel and his wife [the earl was a supporter of the duke of gloucester, uncle of richard ii., and was beheaded in 1397], an unknown lady, supposed to be countess of arundel (1270). this tomb is of decorated design, and is beautifully executed. [illustration the presbytery.] the _north transept_ was once the parish church of st. peter the great. the main walls are part of bishop ralph's norman church, and there are norman windows on the west and arches of the same style on the east. these open into the old chapel of st. john baptist and st. edmund, which has now been converted into the _library_. the north and east walls are early english, the vaulting is very beautiful, the ribs being ornamented with zigzag. the library has some early mss., but is not particularly rich in its treasures. entering the north choir aisle we see the monuments of bishop storey (1503), the builder of the market cross; bishop king (1670), who suffered much from the parliamentary soldiers; carleton (1685); grove (1691); otter (1840), and an early slab of thirteenth century representing a heart burial. formerly an inscription could be deciphered which told in norman french: "here lies the heart of maud." at the end of this aisle is the chapel of st. katherine. this eastern end of the aisle is all early english work. here are preserved the paintings of the bishops of chichester and kings of england made by bernardi, which were much injured by the soldiers and restored by an indifferent artist. the _retro-choir_ is early thirteenth century, and has a fine vault which in style resembles that of some french churches. the piers are curious, and the shafts are further detached from the main piers than in any other known example. the capitals are most beautifully carved. the triforium is ornamented with rich tracery and carving and clustered shafts of purbeck. it somewhat resembles ely, the work of bishop hotham in 1235. the clerestory is later. here stood the magnificent shrine of st. richard, the glory of chichester, and the resort of pilgrims. this st. richard de la wyche, who was the friend of becket, died in 1245. he was remarkable for his zeal and charity. on his death his body was found wrapped in a shirt of horse hair and bound with rings of iron. miracles being reported to have taken place at his tomb, he was canonised. the _lady chapel_ in norman times extended two bays eastward, and was extended by two bays by bishop gilbert de st. leofard at the end of the thirteenth century (1288-1305). it was formerly used as the library, and willis speaks of it as "having nothing to recommend it except a good collection of books." the east window has five lights, and all the windows have been restored. the vaulting is good and the fittings are modern. in the vault is a beautifully-painted design by bernardi (1519). the _south choir aisle_ resembles the north. the chapel of st. mary magdalene is at the east end, which has been restored. st. richard's head was preserved here as a precious relic. some modern paintings here represent scenes from the life of st. richard and our lord. passing by the door into the cloisters we see on the north the tombs of dean hook (1875), and bishop daye (1552); and on the south, bishop sherbourne (1536). here are two carved panels of very early character, which legendary lore tells were brought from selsey when the bishop's stool was transferred to chichester. it is quite possible that they are saxon, and the style of art has a byzantine appearance. the subjects are the raising of lazarus and our lord at bethany with mary and martha. a door on the left leads to the vicar's vestry, and then we come to the _south transept_, which resembles the north. the walls on both west and east are norman. on the south is a very beautiful window inserted by bishop langton (1305-1337), one of the finest early decorated windows in england. the glass is modern and hideous. the paintings here on the back of the choir stalls are interesting. they are the work of theodore bernardi, an italian artist, who settled in flanders and afterwards came to england, and with his son lived at chichester. bishop sherbourne employed him to decorate his cathedral. the paintings here represent the foundation of the see at selsey by caedwalla, and the foundation of four prebends by the bishop and henry viii. the soldiers much injured the paintings, which were restored by bishop mawson, who employed an inferior artist and thus destroyed much of their merit. the saintly bishop richard has a monument here. on the east is the chapel of st. pantaleon, a nicomedian martyr, which retains its piscina. it is now used as the canons' vestry. on the west is the entrance to the _sacristy_, a large room, now used as a music room, with a vaulted ceiling. above this is the old consistory court where heretics were tried. lollards were often examined and condemned here, and behind the seats there is a sliding door leading to what is commonly known as the lollards' prison. it was probably either a treasury or evidence chamber. langton's tomb, the builder of the beautiful window, is below that fine structure. he died in 1336. the _choir_ is long and narrow and has been much restored. the design is early english, though much of the old norman piers was retained. the carving in the triforium is very beautiful. the screen is modern. the stalls were erected in bishop sherbourne's time, and are of carved oak and inferior to many. the dean's and precentor's stalls are new. the old throne was much defaced by the soldiers under waller. a new one was given by bishop mawson (1740-1754) and this has given place to a modern one. the reredos and altar are modern. dimensions total length 393 ft. length of nave 155 ft. width of nave 90 ft. height of nave 61 ft. length of choir 115 ft. length of transept 131 ft. height of spire 277 ft. area 28,000 sq. ft. building dates norman (twelfth century)--south-west tower and part of west front, piers of nave and triforium, part of transepts, parts of walls of choir aisles and piers of choir, and parts of lady chapel. the upper part of south-west tower late twelfth century. early english (thirteenth century)--remodelling of the nave and choir, chapels, porches, and lady chapel begun. decorated (fourteenth century)--retro-choir and south window in south transept. lady chapel finished. perpendicular (fifteenth century)--bell tower, choir walls, paintings, cloisters. modern--tower and spire and north-west tower. footnote: [7] the modern pevensey. salisbury cathedral salisbury is one of the finest examples of early english architecture in england. it was built for the most part in one style and at one period, and therefore does not present to us that varied conglomeration of the art of different ages which we see in most of our ecclesiastical edifices. the story of its building is full of interest, and we must look for the original home of the salisbury diocese on the wind-swept fortified heights of old sarum, where bishop herman fixed his episcopal seat in early norman times. the early history of the sees of southern england is somewhat complicated. when the story of the cross was first proclaimed here, and the savage saxons became christianised, the whole of wessex and sussex were comprised in the see of dorchester, a small village in oxfordshire. this huge bishopric was then divided into the two sees of winchester and sherborne. then selsey (afterwards chichester) was taken out of winchester, which diocese was again divided, and ramsbury formed. out of the diocese of sherborne, wells and crediton were constituted, and then bishop herman in 1058 united the sees of ramsbury and sherborne, and formed the diocese of salisbury, fixing his seat at old sarum, the saxon town of searobyrig. on this hill fortress seven prelates ruled, amongst whom were the saintly osmund (1078-1099), who completed the first cathedral, of which no stone remains, and compiled the famous "use of sarum," the model of all service-books in the south of england; bishop roger (1102-1107), a most powerful prelate and castle-builder; jocelyn de bohun (1142-1184), the opponent of becket; hubert walter (1188-1193), a crusading bishop, the companion of richard coeur de lion; herbert le poer or poore (1194-1216), and then his brother or kinsman, richard poore (1217-1228), the founder of the present cathedral. various reasons are assigned for the transference of the see. old sarum lacked water. it was a lofty, barren height, swept by every wind of heaven, and "when the wind did blow they could not hear the priest say mass." but the real reason was the quarrel between the clergy and the soldiers who guarded the castle of the king. on one occasion, when during rogationtide the ecclesiastics went in solemn procession to the church of st. martin, on their return they found the gates closed against them, and had to remain without shelter during a long winter's night. similar insults frequently being offered them, the bishop and his clergy determined to seek a new home. whither should they go? legends tell us of the arrow shot at random from the heights of old sarum, of the bishop's mysterious dream, wherein the virgin appeared and told him to seek for the spot moerfield, of his talking with the abbess of wilton, and her reply that he had plenty of land of his own without seeking to spoil her. at any rate the bishop gave the land for his new cathedral out of his own domain, and he began to build the stately edifice which we now see. the first stones were laid on the feast of st. vitalis, april 28, 1220; one elias of dereham was the master-mason, and the work progressed rapidly until bishop poore was translated to durham in 1228. there his "chapel of the nine altars" attests to the love of building which he acquired at salisbury, and the similarity of the styles of architecture. his successors continued to build with much zeal, and in the time of bishop giles de bridport (1257-1262) the church was consecrated by archbishop boniface, of savoy, in the presence of henry iii. and his court. the church was now complete. only forty-six years were spent in its building--a marvellous achievement. the monastic buildings were begun by bishop walter delawyle (1262-1270). as yet the tower was not so high as it is now, and there was no spire; but the fourteenth century had scarcely begun before the two upper storeys were added, and the lofty spire, which forms such a glorious crown of this beautiful structure. it was the work of the mason, richard of farleigh, who was at the same time engaged on work at bath and reading. in the time of bishop wyvil (1329-1375) edward iii. granted permission to fortify the close, and to use the stones from the cathedral of old sarum for this purpose. hence in the walls which surround the close we see norman carvings which once adorned the ancient edifice. of this bishop fuller says that "it is hard to say whether he was more dunce than dwarf, more unlearned or unhandsome, insomuch that walsingham tells us that had the pope ever _seen_ him (as he no doubt _felt_ him in his large fees) he would never have conferred the place upon him." his curious brass tells of his recovering for his see the castle of sherborne and the chase of bere, of which the bishopric had been wrongfully despoiled. prominent among its bishops was robert hallam (1408-1417), who was present at the council of constance, which saw the burning of huss and jerome of prague, and strove hard to avert their fate. bishop ayscough (1438-1450) was murdered by the rebel followers of jack cade at edingdon. bishop beauchamp (1450-1481) built the great hall of the palace, and his chantry (destroyed by wyatt). here one of the unhappy woodvilles, brother of edward iv.'s queen, was bishop (1482-1485), and he had the unhappiness of seeing his brother-in-law, the duke of buckingham, beheaded at salisbury, just before the battle of bosworth (_cf._ shakespeare's _richard iii._). cardinal campeggio was bishop just before the reformation, and after wolsey's disgrace was deprived of his see. there are no records to show what damage was done during that stormy period, but probably the niches of the west front were deprived of many of their images at this time, the windows broken, and the treasury shorn of its plate and relics. one of the best of the salisbury bishops was jewel, the author of the _apology of the church of england_ (1560-1571), who built the library over the cloisters. during the civil war ludlow's soldiers were quartered here, and garrisoned the belfry, but they seem to have behaved with extraordinary mildness. the cathedral had powerful protectors, and when some of waller's men carried off some church goods, the parliament ordered that these should be restored. bishop seth ward (1667-1688), one of the founders of the royal society, did much to repair his cathedral, and restored the palace, which was ruinous, having been bought by one van ling from the parliament, and partly converted into cottages. unhappily the arch-destroyer, wyatt, was turned loose on the building at the end of the eighteenth century, who wrought vast and irreparable destruction, which it is pitiable to see. since his day there have been many efforts to obliterate his work; vast sums have been spent, and the cathedral restored to much of its ancient glory and beauty. the exterior [illustration salisbury cathedral] as we enter the cathedral precincts we are at once struck with the wondrous beauty and charm of this peaceful close, which surrounds, with its circling green sward, the magnificent gothic pile. all writers have vied with each other in singing the praises of this grand achievement of gothic art, and nowhere can we gain a better view of the grand proportions of this church, with its noble spire, than from the south-east or north-east corner of the close. around us are the venerable walls of the fortifications, erected in the time of edward iii., who granted a license for this purpose, and gave leave to the bishop to pull down the walls of old sarum, in order to provide the stone. embedded in the wall we find some stones with norman carving, which bespeak their former location in the norman buildings on the old stronghold of sarum. the grand _spire_ is the highest in england (400 feet). the tower on which it stands is early english as far as the first storey; the two higher storeys were added in the early part of the fourteenth century, and are early decorated. the whole structure is magnificent. on each side there is an arcade, richly canopied, and having double windows. at each angle there is a turret, with a small crocketed spire, and from a mass of richly-decorated pinnacles the great spire rises. in the capstone still remains a small leaden box containing a fragment of decayed silk or fine linen, doubtless a relic of the virgin. the spire has sometimes caused anxiety, and has been strengthened by metal bands, but the early english sub-structure has sustained with wonderful constancy the weight of the two higher storeys and the spire which the somewhat venturesome builders of the time of edward iii. forced them to bear. the _west front_ it is the fashion to abuse. it has been censured for its "parcellings" and "raggedness." professor freeman denies the honesty of such fronts, because they extend beyond the walls of the aisles and nave, and are what the professors of "true principles" call "shams." such criticisms fail to recognise the real object of such screens, which was to set forth a chronicle in stone of the history of the church, and people the niches with figures of the great men and benefactors, the saints and heroes, whose memories are here enshrined. it is no "sham," and we must try to imagine it as it really was, not shorn of half its beauties, bereft of its images, or supplied with the works of modern art which do not always harmonise with their surroundings. inferior it may be to the fronts of wells or lincoln, but it still possesses many merits, and is certainly impressive. it was the last completed portion of the cathedral, as in the mouldings we see the ball-flower which is the sign-manual of the decorated period. there is a central portion with a gable and buttresses, and a compartment on each side flanked by small towers with small spires. there are five storeys. in the lowest there is a triple porch, deeply recessed with canopies. the west window is large, and is a triplet divided by slender clustered shafts. there are about 100 niches which have been filled with some of the best examples of modern art by mr. redfern. above all we see our lord in glory, to whom all the others are offering their praise. mr. armfield in his _legend of christian art_ gives us the following detailed account of the various figures in the west front and the meaning of their several emblems:-_the tier of angels._--the celestial hierarchy have been divided into three classes, each class containing three grades. the first class consists of seraphim, cherubim and thrones; the second of dominions, powers and authorities; the third of principalities, archangels and angels, angels being thus the lowest order of celestial creation. _the tier of old testament worthies._--david, with the harp; moses, carrying the tables of the law; abraham, with the knife in his hand; noah, with the ark in his left hand; samuel; solomon, with the sceptre in his right hand and the church in his left hand. _the tier of apostles._--st. jude, with the halberd; st. simon zelotes, with the saw; st. andrew, with the cross; st. thomas, with the builder's square; st. peter, with the keys in his right hand; st. paul, with the sword in his right hand; st. luke and st. john. the figures of st. peter and st. paul are restorations of ancient figures which had been mutilated. st. james the less, with the fuller's club; st. james the greater, with the pilgrim's staff; st. bartholomew, with the knife; st. matthias, with the lance. _the tier of the doctors, virgins and martyrs._--st. ambrose, bishop of milan; st. jerome, in a cardinal's hat; st. gregory the great, with the tiara of the papacy; st. augustine, bishop of hippo, in africa; st. augustine, of canterbury; st. mary the virgin, st. barbara, st. catherine, st. roch, st. nicholas, st. george, the patron saint of england; st. christopher, st. sebastian, st. cosmo, st. damian, st. margaret, st. ursula, st. john the baptist; st. stephen, the proto-martyr; and the four virgins--st. lucy, st. agatha, st. agnes and st. cecilia. _the tier of worthies distinctively belonging to the english church._--bishop giles de bridport, bishop of the diocese at the time of the consecration of the cathedral; bishop richard poore, founder of the present cathedral; king henry iii., the monarch who granted the charter for the building of the cathedral; bishop odo; bishop osmund, who built the first cathedral of sarum; bishop brithwold; st. alban, holding sword and cross; st. alphege, archbishop of canterbury; st. edmund, king and martyr; st. thomas of canterbury. a mutilated figure on the west side of north turret is probably that of st. berinus. we notice several consecration crosses on the walls of the church. the _north porch_ is large and massive, and has a parvise in the upper storey. on the inside there is a double arcade with foliated arches, and the pinnacles on each side of the gable are very fine. the _nave_ presents a perfect example of early english workmanship. notice the regularity of the masonry, which is one of its great peculiarities. the stones run in even bands throughout. the aisle windows have two lights; the clerestory has triple lancets, and each pair is flanked by flying buttresses. the fronts of the transepts are graced by beautifully-designed windows and are divided into four storeys. the porch on the north side was removed by wyatt. the east front of the choir is a fine arrangement of lancets. there is great similarity between the north and south sides of the cathedral. on the north side of the lady chapel formerly stood the hungerford chapel, ruthlessly destroyed by wyatt; the beauchamp chapel on the south side shared the same fate. bishop beauchamp erected the flying buttresses on the south of the choir in 1450. the gates of the close are:--high street gate, built at the same time as the walls; st. anne's gate, and harnham gate, of which little remains. on the south of the nave is the cloister-court, which we will visit after seeing the interior. salisbury possessed at one time a separate belfry at the north-west corner of the close. it was entirely destroyed and removed by wyatt. the _palace_ is on the south-east. it was commenced by poore. the hall was built by bishop beauchamp in the fifteenth century. the interior entering the building by the west door we obtain a grand view of the interior. the beautiful clustered columns of the fine arches, wrought of purbeck marble, the fine triforium and clerestory, the distant view of the choir, all combine to make a very impressive scene. the oft-quoted lines tell us that "as many days as in one year there be, so many windows in this church we see; as many marble pillars here appear as there are hours throughout the fleeting year; as many gates as moons one year does view- strange tale to tell! yet not more strange than true." [illustration strengthening arches. east transepts.] the uniformity of the architecture in the first beauty of gothic conception, the long rows of sepulchral monuments of warriors and bishops, and the noble proportions of the building, add greatly to the charm of this building; and yet it lacks much of the beauty which once shone here. little of its stained glass, which once shed wondrous light on all we see, has been saved from the wreck caused by reformation zeal and the wanton destruction of wyatt. the triforium with its flat-pointed arches, sub-divided into four smaller ones, ornamented with trefoils and quatrefoils, alternating with cinquefoils and octofoils, greatly resembles that at westminster. the clerestory windows are triple lancets. the vaulting is plain, the arches rising from clustered shafts with foliated capitals, and resting on corbel-heads. the west wall has a triple-lancet window, and beneath this is an arcade of four arches, each of which contains two sub-arches. in the west window has been collected fragments of old glass saved from the wreck. it is possible to discover the figure of our lord in majesty, the virgin, zacharias in the temple, the adoration of the magi. there is some flemish glass also here. the glass in the west windows of the aisles is ancient (1240-1270), and we see here the arms of bishop jewell (1562) and john aprice (1558). the aisles have double-lancet windows. there is a curious stone bench on each side of the nave, upon which the piers stand. this was so placed in order to distribute the great weight of the building resting on these piers, as the foundations were not laid upon any very firm ground, the nature of the soil being formerly marshy, and the situation liable to floods. this ingenious plan has evidently had the desired effect, as the building has stood for nigh 700 years. the nave contains a fine series of monuments which were arranged here by wyatt in a barbarous fashion. this vandal was guilty of every enormity. not only did he remove the monuments from their original positions, but he seems to have mixed up the effigies and put them on tombs to which they did not belong. beginning at west end of south side, leaving the figure of hibernia, which graces lord wyndham's monument (1745), we see the monuments of the following:- 1. bishop herman (1078), which was brought from old sarum. 2. bishop jocelyn (1184), which was brought from old sarum (the head is later than the rest). 3. bishop roger (1139), which was brought from old sarum. (there is some uncertainty about the identity of these.) 4. incised slab to an unknown personage. 5. bishop beauchamp (1481), whose chantry was destroyed by wyatt. 6. robert, lord hungerford (1459), whose chantry was destroyed by wyatt. notice the plate armour and collar of saints, also sword and dagger. 7. lord stourton, hung in the market-place in 1556 for the murder of the hartgills, accomplished in a brutal fashion. he was hung, as a concession to his noble birth, with a silken cord. the "wells" on each side allude to the six heads of the stour river, which rise near the stourton mansion. 8. bishop de la wyle (1271), mutilated. the base is made up of fragments of much later date. 9. william longespée, first earl of salisbury of that name, son of henry ii. by fair rosamond (1226). notice the chain-armour and surcoat, shield with arms of anjou, and the decoration of the tomb--silver diaper work. he fought in the crusades and in france, and was present at the signing of magna charta. crossing to the north side we see the monuments of- 10. sir john cheyney (1509), standard-bearer of henry of richmond at battle of bosworth, unhorsed by richard iii. 11.} walter, lord hungerford, and his wife. 12.} 13. sir john de montacute (1389), fought at creçy and in scotland under richard ii. notice armour, especially gauntlets. 14. chancellor geoffrey. 15. person unknown. 16. longespée, earl of salisbury (1250), son of the above-mentioned earl, a crusader killed by the saracens. the fact that this is a cross-legged effigy does not prove that all cross-legged effigies represent crusaders. 17. "boy bishop," the great attraction of the ordinary visitor and tourist. the ceremony of the boy bishop is well known. one of the choir boys was elected on st. nicholas day, and presided until innocents' day, and a special service and procession took place during his rule. the old idea was that this boy died during his brief episcopacy, and was thus honoured with an effigy. it is now generally believed that such small figures represent heart burials. in bygone times the body was usually buried at the place where the person died, and not infrequently the heart was conveyed to the special church associated with the family or life of the deceased. the library, however, contains the order of service of boy bishop, and the ceremony lingered on until the time of elizabeth. 18. person unknown. near the entrance is a monument to dr. turburville, an oculist of salisbury (1696). the _north transept_ is entered by a perpendicular arch, by bishop beauchamp (1450-1481). it was designed to support the tower. the style of this transept resembles that of the nave. the two-light windows, which take the place of the triforium on the north side, and the beautiful clerestory windows, with their slender pilasters, should be noticed. there is an eastern aisle, divided into chapels, which wyatt robbed of their screens. the monuments here are:--brass to john britton, the eminent antiquary; james harris, author of _hermes_, by bacon; earl of malmesbury, by chantrey; w.b. earle, by flaxman; bishop john blythe (?) (1499); sir r. hoare, the wilts historian, by lucas; richard jefferies, the charming modern writer on country life; walter and william long, by flaxman; bishop woodville (1484). the _south transept_ resembles the north. here are monuments of:--bishop mitford (1407), a fine tomb of white marble; bishop fisher (1825); edward poore (1780). the _choir-screen_ is good modern work, and replaced a patchwork structure of wyatt's handiwork, made up of spoil taken from his destroyed chantries. the organ is modern. the _choir and presbytery_ differ in no way from the architecture of the nave. the east end is beautifully designed. at the base of the reredos are three arches, and above five arches, with cinquefoil headings, and above these a triplet window. the roof is painted with an interesting series of designs, which are modern reproductions of thirteenth-century work. first there are series of old testament saints, the forerunner of our lord being ranked with the prophets. then come the apostles, with the figures of our lord and the evangelists; and further east are representations of the months, which are curious and interesting. january is represented by a man warming his hands; february, a man drinking wine; march, digging; april, sowing; may, hawking; june, flowers; july, reaping; august, threshing; september, gathering fruit; october, brewing; november, timber-felling; december, killing a pig. the _choir stalls_ are a patchwork composition. there is some old perpendicular work; some of the work is by wren. happily wyatt's productions have been removed. the reredos is modern, is a very elaborate piece of work. all the other fittings of the choir are new. in the choir are the chantries of bishop audley (1524), a fine piece of late perpendicular work, which has a fan-vault and some traces of colour, and of walter, lord hungerford (1429), removed here from the nave, and made into a family pew by lord radnor. the iron-work is good, and such chapels are rare, the chantry of edward iv. at windsor being the finest of its kind. in the _north choir aisle_ and _transept_ there are two monuments of the _memento mori_ type, the large tomb of a thirteenth-century bishop, either bingham or scammel, bishop wyvill (1375), gheast (1576), and jewell (1571), and the curious brass of bishop wyvill, who recovered for the see sherborne castle and the bere chase, seized by stephen, and granted by edward iii. to the earl of salisbury. to decide the right the wager of battle was resorted to, and both bishop and earl chose a champion. the king, however, caused the matter to be settled amicably. the bishop is here shown in his castle, praying for his champion, and below are the hares and rabbits representing the chase. in this north-east transept is a fine early perpendicular lavatory, which is evidently not in its original position, part of an early english screen, removed by wyatt, and a curious aumbrey. in the aisle toward the east we see an effigy, said to be that of bishop poore, the founder of the cathedral, and at the east end is the monument of sir thomas gorges and his lady, who was a maid of honour to queen elizabeth. it is a cumbrous piece of work. the _retro-choir_ or processional path has beautiful clustered shafts and fine vault, and forms a graceful entrance to the _lady chapel_, a most perfect piece of early english building, and the oldest part of the church. at the east end is a triple lancet, with another lancet on each side, filled with modern glass. there is a new altar here, and modern colouring adorns the walls and ceiling. the canopies of the niches under the windows on the north and south were brought here from the beauchamp chapel destroyed by wyatt. here in former days stood the shrine of st. osmund, the second norman bishop, the saintly man to whom the diocese and the english church owe much. his tomb remains here, but his shrine was plundered and destroyed at the reformation. at the east end of the south choir aisle is the stately tomb of the unhappy earl of hertford (1621), who married catherine, the sister of lady jane grey, and thus incurred queen elizabeth's resentment, and was imprisoned. the poor lady, when released from the tower, was separated from her husband, and died of grief. he survived her sixty years. near here are the modern tombs of bishops moberly and hamilton, and the perpendicular tomb of william wilton, chancellor of sarum (1506-1523). the old sacristy, now the vestry, is on the south of this transept; above this is the muniment room, the ancient treasury. in the transept is the remarkable monument of bishop giles de bridport (1262), under whose rule the church was finished. it is the most interesting tomb in the church. the carvings in the spandrels record the chief events in the bishop's life--his birth, confirmation, education, and possibly his first preferment, his homage, a procession (probably referring to the dedication of this church), his death, and the presentation of his soul for judgment. here are monuments also of canon bowles (1850); bishop burgess (1837); bishop seth ward (1689), hooker, the famous divine; young, the father of the poet; isaak walton, the son of the angler; bishop davenant (1641); mrs. wordsworth, the wife of the bishop; and a brass to canon liddon's memory. further on are the monuments of bishop salcot (1557), and sir richard mompesson and his wife (1627). notice the inverted strengthening arches in both choir transepts. passing through the south transept we enter the _cloisters_, which are considered to be "among the finest in england," and without doubt they can lay claim to be a great and beautiful architectural triumph. they are a little later than the cathedral, having been begun directly after its completion, and finished during the rule of bishop wyvill, about 1340. the windows are finely constructed, and consist of double-arched openings, each arch having two sub-arches, while in the head is a large six-foiled opening. on the wall side is a blind arcade of graceful arches. an unfortunate restoration in 1854 did not improve the appearance of the cloisters. on the north side, between the cloister and the church, is the plumbery. the monuments here do not possess much interest. the _library_, over part of the east walk, was built by bishop jewell, and contains about 5000 volumes, and a valuable collection of mss. one of the most interesting is a gallican version of the psalter (969 a.d.), geoffrey of monmouth's chronicles (twelfth century), a copy of magna charter (now in muniment room), and many others of much value and importance. the _chapter-house_ was built early in the reign of edward i. it is a noble octagonal building, and can scarcely be surpassed by any other. the roof is modern. there is a central pillar, from which the vaulting springs. on each side there is a large window, resembling in tracery those in the cloisters. below the windows is an arcade, and beneath this a stone bench, and at the east end a raised seat for the bishop and his officials. there is a remarkable series of sculptures above the arcade, which are extremely interesting and merit close study. the following are the subjects represented:- west bay 1. description of chaos. 2. creation of the firmament. north-west bay 3. creation of the earth. 4. creation of the sun and moon. 5. creation of the birds and fishes. 6. creation of adam and eve. 7. the sabbath. 8. the institution of marriage. 9. the temptation. 10. the hiding in the garden. north bay 11. the expulsion. 12. adam tilling the ground. 13. cain and abel's offering. 14. murder of abel. 15. god sentencing cain. 16. god commanding noah to build the ark. 17. the ark. 18. noah's vineyard. north-east bay 19. the drunkenness of noah. 20. building of the tower of babel. 21. the angels appearing to abraham. 22. abraham entertaining angels. 23. destruction of sodom and gomorrah. 24. the escape of lot. 25. abraham and isaac journeying to the mount. 26. the sacrifice of isaac. east bay 27. isaac blessing jacob. 28. blessing of esau. 29. rebecca sending jacob to padanaram. 30. meeting of jacob and rachel. 31. rachel introducing jacob to laban. 32. jacob wrestling with the angel, and jacob's dream. 33. the angel touching jacob's thigh. 34. meeting of jacob and esau. south-east bay 35. joseph's dream. 36. joseph relating his dream. 37. joseph being placed in a well. 38. joseph sold into egypt. 39. joseph's coat brought to jacob. 40. joseph brought to potiphar. 41. joseph tempted by potiphar's wife. 42. joseph accused before potiphar. south bay 43. joseph placed in prison. 44. the fate of pharaoh's baker and butler. 45. pharaoh's dream. 46. pharaoh's perplexity. 47. joseph taken from prison, and interpreting the dream. 48. joseph ruling in egypt. 49. the brethren journeying into egypt. 50. the cup placed in benjamin's sack. south-west bay 51. the discovery of the cup. 52. the brethren pleading before joseph. 53. jacob and family journeying to egypt. 54. the brethren pleading before joseph after the death of jacob. 55. joseph assuring his brethren of his protection. 56. moses in the presence of god. 57. the passage of the red sea. 58. destruction of the egyptians. west bay 59. moses striking the rock. 60. the declaring of the law. in the vestibule the doorway is remarkable for its great beauty. in the voussoirs of the arch is another series of sculptures representing moralities, the triumph of virtue over vice. we see concordia trampling on discordia, temperantia pouring liquor down the throat of drunkenness, bravery trampling on cowardice, faith on infidelity, virtue covering vice with a cloak, while vice embraces her knee with one hand and stabs her with the other. truth pulls out the tongue of falsehood, modesty scourges lust, and charity pours coin into the throat of avarice. these sculptures are of the very highest class of art, and are among the most interesting remains of early gothic carving in the world. all the glass in the chapter-house is modern, and also the tiling. a fine old specimen of fourteenth-century furniture is seen in the ancient table preserved here. dimensions total length 473 ft. length of nave 229 ft. width 82 ft. height 84 ft. height of spire 404 ft. principal building dates early english (1220-1260)--the main buildings of the church were completed at this time. (1262-1270)--monastic buildings. decorated (1330-1350)--two upper storeys of tower and spire. perpendicular (1460)--arches supporting tower in north and south transepts. flying buttresses on south side of choir. other buildings of interest in salisbury- the guild hall. market cross, called the poultry. churches of st. martin, st. edmund, st. thomas à becket. in the neighbourhood are- old sarum. stonehenge. [illustration plan of salisbury cathedral] oxford cathedral oxford is so full of varied interest that we must leave our readers to gain knowledge of its history from other sources, and confine ourselves to its cathedral records. this see was one of those founded by henry viii. out of the proceeds of his spoliation of the monasteries. the cathedral was originally the church of the priory of st. frideswide. this lady was the daughter of didan, the chief man of the town. at an early age she took the veil, and her father built for her a convent; but algar, king of mercia, wished to marry her, and swore that he would carry her off. she fled for refuge, and on her return to oxford was gallantly defended by the men of her city against algar, who was struck blind. she was buried in her convent, and many miracles were wrought at her shrine. such was the beginning of what ultimately became the cathedral of oxford. terrible was the scene which took place in this little church. the danes were in oxford. there was peace between the saxon king, ethelred, and their foes; but on st. brice's day, 1002, the folk of wessex were excited to slaughter the danes, who fled for sanctuary to the little church. the saxons respected no more the sacredness of the building than the laws of hospitality, and set fire to the place and massacred the helpless danes. the remains of this early saxon church are said to have been discovered, which we shall examine later.[8] ethelred, repenting of his crime, determined to rebuild the church, which he accomplished, and recent authorities assure us that the present church is in plan and main substance the saxon church of ethelred, erected in 1004, and not the later norman church about which the older writers tell us. he seems to have established a community of secular canons. the work was interrupted by the later danish invasions, and perhaps never finished. at any rate it was ruinous in the time of the early normans kings. in 1111 a.d., it was granted by either roger, bishop of salisbury, or by henry i., to prior guimond and his fellow canons. this prior began to restore the ruined church and monastery, but his successor, robert de cricklade (1141-1180), did most of the work, and restored the nave, choir, central tower and transepts. all the later norman work is due to him. in 1180, in the presence of henry ii., his nobles and a goodly company of bishops, the relics of st. frideswide were translated to a place of honour in the restored building on the north side of the choir, to which there was great resort of pilgrims on account of the miraculous healings which took place there. fire played havoc with the city of oxford in 1190, but the church escaped without much injury. the monastic buildings suffered, and the traces of fire can still be seen on the old norman doorway in the cloisters. in the thirteenth century the lady chapel was built adjoining the north side of the choir, some of the old walls being used, the spire raised above the tower, the chapter-house and part of the latin chapel added, which was completed in the fourteenth century. a few decorated details were added at this period, and windows in this style inserted. the fifteenth century witnessed sundry alterations in the cloisters, the building of st. frideswide's latest shrine, the insertion of some perpendicular windows, and the erection of the fine vaulting of the choir. then a mighty change dawned on the old monastery. cardinal wolsey obtained a bull from pope clement vii. for its suppression and determined to convert it into a college, which was designed to be the largest in oxford. he played sad havoc with the fabric of the church. a great part of the nave he destroyed altogether in order to make room for his great "tom quad," so named after the famous bell which still rings each night at five minutes past nine, and is the signal for the closing of the gates of all oxford colleges. part of the old cloisters disappeared also. wolsey contemplated the building of another church for his college, and indeed began its construction; but his fall in 1529 put an end to the carrying out of his great conception, and the college fell into the hands of king henry viii. here the monarch established one of his newly-formed sees (the bishop's seat was first fixed at oseney abbey, just outside oxford), and with characteristic parsimony applied the revenues of the college to the support of the see. the dean of the cathedral is still the head of the college, and the canons are university professors. as was usual at this time, the cathedral was shorn of all its costly ornaments, vestments, plate and other treasures, but the fabric remained intact. dean brian duppa in 1630 wrought much evil in the way of restoring his cathedral, destroying the old glass and woodwork, tearing up the brasses, and "improving" the windows by cutting away the old tracery. he was rewarded for his zeal by being made bishop of salisbury. his loyalty to the fallen fortunes of his sovereign, charles i., somewhat atones for his wanton destruction of much that was beautiful in christ church cathedral. in the civil war, oxford was the great centre of the royalists. here king charles held his court. students flocked to his standard, and the cathedral was the scene of several thanksgiving services on the occasion of victories. cromwell's soldiers at length captured oxford, and did some damage in the cathedral, breaking much of the glass. bishop fell (1676-1686) was a munificent benefactor of the college. his father when dean had built the fine staircase to the hall with its fan-tracery vault, and commenced the buildings on north and west of the quadrangle. this bishop fell finished the buildings of the college together with the west belfry, designed by sir c. wren, but he does not appear to have done much for the cathedral. neglect and the hard hand of time wrought much mischief, and it seems to have been in a deplorable state when the restorations of the last half of the nineteenth century were inaugurated. to rescue it from its wretched condition dean liddell, whose name is familiar to every student of greek, set himself with much energy, and the work was entrusted to sir g. scott. his restoration was carried out with much wisdom and careful regard for antiquity. the author of _alice in wonderland_, a fellow of the college, published a satirical pamphlet on _the three t's_, the tunnel, the tower (the third we forget), and compared the new entrance with a railway tunnel, representing a railway train emerging from the portal, and scoffing at the new tower, which arose above the grand staircase to the hall. but it is easy to criticise, and sir g. scott's work at oxford compares favourably with most restorations, and for this posterity will thank him. the exterior oxford cathedral is so hidden away behind the obtrusive walls of wolsey's college that it is difficult to obtain any good exterior views. the best is that seen from the garden of one of the canons, to enter which permission may be obtained. the view from the cloister is also satisfactory. the principal entrance is from "tom quad" by the "tunnel," as lewis carroll termed the passage or porch situated a little to the north of the entrance to the hall. as we have said, the west front and the greater part of the nave were destroyed by wolsey when he erected the college buildings. he also destroyed the west walk of the cloister, which we enter by a passage leading from the entrance to the hall. the cloisters are perpendicular work of the latter part of the fifteenth century. the north walk was at one time converted into a muniment room, but has recently been restored to its original form, and has a modern imitation of the old vaulting. the old refectory stood on the south side, but has been converted into college rooms. its large perpendicular windows still remain looking on to the cloister. the entrance to the chapter-house is in the east walk, and a fine norman doorway it is. it belongs to the later norman period. it has four orders, richly ornamented with zigzag. a round-headed window is on each side of the door. the chapter-house is one of the best examples of the early english style in the kingdom, and may be compared with those of lincoln, salisbury and chester. the east end is very fine, and consists of an arcade of five arches which are double. slender clustered shafts with capitals adorned with foliage support the inner arches. the three central arches are pierced for windows. similar arcades are at the east end of north and south sides. the sculpture in this chamber is extremely fine. grotesque corbels, carved capitals and the bosses in the vault, are all beautiful and interesting. one of the bosses represents the virgin giving an apple to the infant christ. there is also some old glass and interesting mural paintings. diocesan meetings are held in this delightful room. the foundation stone of wolsey's college at ipswich is preserved here. in the room on the south are some fine paintings, an elizabethan table and an old chest. another door in this cloister leads to the old slype, a passage to the monastic burial-ground. on the left is st. lucy's chapel, mainly of norman construction, the east window being much later. it is of decorated character, and the tracery is flamboyant and of very beautiful design. the south choir aisle adjoins, and is part of the original church. the windows are modern imitations of norman work. the windows in the clerestory of the choir are perpendicular. the east end is modern, having been reconstructed by scott. on the north side of the cathedral, viewed from the canon's garden, we see the north transept with its large perpendicular window, erected at the beginning of the sixteenth century, flanked by two turrets crowned with pinnacles; the latin chapel of beautiful decorated design, erected in the fourteenth century, and the lady chapel, the east wall of which is part of the old saxon church, and mr. park harrison has discovered the remains of three saxon apses which are perhaps the remains of the earliest saxon church, the church of st. frideswide, built by didan early in the eighth century.[9] a decorated window has been inserted here. we must now notice the _tower_ and _spire_, a beautiful feature of the cathedral. the lower storey is late norman, similar to the style of the nave; the belfry and the spire are early english. this spire ranks with that of barnock, northants, and new romsey, surrey, as being one of the earliest in the kingdom. it was restored by scott. the pinnacles at the angles of the tower are modern but accurate copies of the ancient ones. the spire is octagonal, and is what is termed a broach spire, _i.e._, it rises from the exterior of the tower walls and not from the interior of a parapet as in the later spires. [illustration oxford cathedral] the interior entering by the new porch from the quadrangle and passing under the organ-screen we see a cathedral, small, indeed, but possessing features of peculiar interest. in its main plan it is possibly the church of ethelred begun in 1004, but finished in late norman times when robert de cricklade or canutus was prior (1141-1180).[10] the piers of the _nave_ are alternatively circular and octagonal. there is a very unusual triforium. arches spring from the capitals of the piers, and in the tympana are set the triforium arcade. from half capitals set against the piers spring another series of arches at a lower level than the others we have mentioned, and above the curve of these is the triforium arcade. very few examples of this curious construction are found in this country. the carving of the capitals is graceful, and though it differs somewhat from the stiff-leaved foliage of early english style, it somewhat resembles that character. the clerestory belongs to the period of transition between norman and early english. the central arch of the triple windows is pointed, and the others, which are blocked up, round. the corbels and shafts which support the roof are norman, but the brackets are perpendicular, erected by wolsey, who intended to build a stone vault. the present fine timber roof belongs to his time, or a little later. the stalls and seats are modern. the screen is jacobean, above which is the organ, a fine instrument enclosed in a jacobean case. the pulpit belongs to the same period and is very interesting, especially its grotesque carving. the central tower has fine and lofty arches, and its appearance has been improved by the removal of the ceiling which formerly existed here. a curious subterranean chamber was discovered here in 1856. it contained two aumbries, and was evidently intended for the keeping of some treasure, possibly of the monastery, or of the university. it is known that the university chest during the thirteenth century was deposited in a secret place within the church of st. frideswide, and this, doubtless, was the spot. the _choir_ is of the same character as the nave. the piers are more massive, and the style of the carving of the capitals differs. we are told that we have distinct evidence here that this is part of ethelred's church, that the sculpture is saxon, copied from saxon mss., that it has been worn by weather which could only have been done during the ruinous condition of the church prior to its late norman restoration. possibly this may be true, and the carving is certainly peculiar, but at present we cannot quite agree to accept this view. the triforium is late norman, and the roof is a fine example of fan-tracery begun in the fifteenth century. wolsey changed the appearance of the clerestory, and introduced perpendicular details. [illustration oxford cathedral (herbert railton)] the _east end_ is modern, and is a fine conception of sir g. scott based upon early models. the _reredos_ is a fine modern work, and the altar, lectern and throne are also new. turning to the north we enter the _north choir aisle_, where we stand upon debatable ground. perhaps we are in the early saxon church built for st. frideswide, or the later saxon church of ethelred. authorities differ, and it is impossible to decide. at any rate, there in the east wall are the remains of the three saxon arches which lead to the apses discovered on the outside. and here, too, is the noted _shrine of st. frideswide_, of which mr. ruskin said that every stone was worth its weight in silver, if not in gold. it has been gradually collected from odd corners of the precincts, as the shrine was destroyed by henry viii. the carved foliage is very beautiful, and when this base of the shrine was complete and crowned with the jewelled cover, beneath which reposed the relics of the saints, it must have been very imposing. there is a curious story in connection with these relics. when the tomb was destroyed these were carefully preserved in secret by "the faithful," and in the meantime the body of the wife of peter martyr, a protestant professor, was laid near the saint's shrine. as this poor lady was an ex-nun, in the time of mary and cardinal pole her body was cast out into a cesspool, and the relics of the saint restored to their place of honour. in elizabeth's time the saint's bones were again removed. the queen ordered the decent re-burial of the remains of peter martyr's wife, and while this was being done the sacred box containing the relics was produced, and "the married nun and the virgin saint were buried together, and the dust of the two still remains under the pavement beneath our feet inextricably blended."[11] the exact spot is conjecturable, but a brass has been placed where the mingled remains are supposed to lie. the _lady chapel_ is on the west of the choir aisle, and is of early english construction. it was added about 1250, when the present piers and vault were built. the east wall, as we have said, is manifestly earlier, and is part of one of the earlier saxon churches. the east window is restored decorated. the west arch is round-headed, and shows that this part of the chapel was the east aisle of the north transept. there are extensive remains of colouring. here is the remarkable "watching chamber," supposed by some to be a later shrine of st. frideswide, and by professor willis and others to be the chamber where watch was kept for guarding the gold and jewels which adorned the actual shrine. it has three stages, and is very beautiful perpendicular work. in this chapel there are some interesting monuments--sir george nowers (1425) (with good example of armour); prior guymond (?) (1149), or prior alexander de sutton (1316), with decorated canopy and effigy; lady montacute (1353), the supposed founder of the latin chapel; robert burton, author of _anatomy of melancholy_ (1639). some "morris" windows have been inserted here designed by burne-jones, very beautiful in themselves, but perhaps scarcely in keeping with their surroundings. the st. cecilia window is extremely fine. the _latin chapel_ is mainly decorated work of the time of edward iii., the western parts being earlier. the vault has some richly-foliated bosses, on which appear the waterlily and the roses, and heads surmounted with crown and mitre. the east window has strange venetian tracery, but some excellent modern glass designed by burne-jones and representing incidents in the life of st. frideswide. the other windows have some fine old fourteenth-century glass; the north-east window is modern. the woodwork is very fine; it is later than the chapel, and was not designed for it. the cardinal's hat, supported by angels on one of the carved poppy-heads, shows that this was prepared for wolsey's choir. some of the work is much older. in this chapel the writer used to listen to the lectures of the divinity professor, and was often distracted from the discourse by the architectural beauties around him. beautiful vistas may be obtained here of "long-drawn aisles and fretted vault," and he became very conversant with the history of st. frideswide as depicted in the fine east window. the _north transept_ is similar to the nave in style. the north window is a modern restoration, and the glass is not very pleasing modern work. here is the perpendicular tomb of a monk, zouch (1503), and some good brasses in the aisle. the north aisle has norman vaulting. the windows are restored perpendicular, and the glass is modern. the window at the west end of the aisle was refashioned by dean brian duppa in his usual barbarous manner, but it has some good flemish glass by van ling representing jonah and the gourd, with nineveh in the background. crossing to the south side of the church we pass several monuments in the vestibule at the west end and reach the _south aisle_, which is later in style than the north. at the west end is a burne-jones window, representing "faith, hope and charity." the south transept preserves its late norman character, but has been shorn of its length. on the east side is the chapel of st. lucy. at the back of the wall on the south is the slype, and above this the vestry. one of the windows here is said to be saxon. _st. lucy's chapel_ is norman, and is now used as a baptistry. the east window has flamboyant tracery and some fine old glass. several monuments of distinguished cavaliers who died for the royal cause in the civil war are in this part of the church. the _south choir aisle_ resembles that on the north. the south windows are in the norman style, but are modern imitations. the glass of the east window was designed by burne-jones and portrays st. catherine. it was erected in memory of a daughter of dean liddell. the monument of prince leopold, brother of the king, formerly a student of christ church, has a pathetic interest, and the tomb of bishop king, oxford's first bishop (1557), is a fine piece of perpendicular work. the window to his memory is on the south and shows a representation of the abbey of oseney, where his episcopal throne was first established, before it migrated to the church of st. frideswide. dimensions extreme length 175 ft. length from screen to reredos 132 ft. extreme breadth 108 ft. height of spire 144 ft. dates of building saxon--east wall of lady chapel and north choir aisle, and possibly window in south transept. norman--nave, choir, transept, aisles, door of chapter-house st. lucy's chapel. early english--lady chapel. decorated--latin chapel and several windows. perpendicular--cloisters, windows and vault of choir. footnotes: [8] mr. micklethwaite considers these remains to have belonged to ethelred's church. [9] mr. micklethwaite believes these apses to have been part of ethelred's church. [10] although mr. park harrison's theory is attractive, we are unable to accept all his conclusions as to the pre-norman character of the details of the church. [11] froude, _hist. engl._, vi. 468. bristol cathedral bristol, the great western port of england, has a history which tells of the ancient glories of english seamanship. from this port sailed the first englishman who landed in america, sebastian cabot, who was born in bristol, and was the first to discover that which is now known as the united states. a bristol chronicle states, "this year 1497, on st. john the baptist's day, the land of america was found by the merchants of bristowe, in a ship of bristol, called _the matthew_, the which said ship departed from the port of bristowe the 2nd of may, and came home again 6th august following." it was a bristol ship which brought home the real robinson crusoe (juan fernandez) from his island home. very famous were the great merchants of bristol, such as william cannynge, who founded the noble church of st. mary redcliffe, whom his king, henry vi., delighted to honour, and styled "his beloved and honourable merchant." vast was his fleet--his shipping, amounting to 2470 tons, was seized by the victorious yorkist monarch--and vast were his commercial enterprises, whereby he made bristol a large and flourishing port. but we must go back to earlier days. in saxon times the port was famous, or infamous, for its slave-dealing, which the coming of the conqueror scarcely suppressed. here harold's three sons made a vain attempt to rescue the kingdom from his iron grasp. a famous norman castle destroyed in the civil war was built here, where stephen was kept a prisoner. pleasanter visits were frequently paid by other monarchs. the city was besieged and taken by henry bolingbroke, and shakespeare in _richard ii._ tells of the beheading of four supporters of the luckless king in the city market-place. here, too, five martyrs were burnt, and in the first year of elizabeth's reign a mass of roods and images shared the same fate. the imposition of the ship-money tax was so distasteful that the royal cause was not very popular at bristol. the citizens opened their gates to the troopers of cromwell, who held it from 1642 to the following year. prince rupert stormed the place, and held it till it was wrested from him in 1645. the "bloody assize" of judge jefferies left its mark on this western port; six prisoners were executed, and hundreds sent across the sea to serve in the plantations. the darkest spot in the history of bristol is the story of the reform riots of 1831, sometimes called "the bristol revolution," when the dregs of the population pillaged and plundered, burnt the bishop's palace, and were guilty of much vandalism. of the old churches we shall write subsequently. the old quaint houses are very attractive, especially the old norman hall and tudor windows of the house of edward colston, one of bristol's merchant princes, cannynge's house, with its fine perpendicular roof, and the old hospital of st. peter. the history of the see bristol was one of the sees founded by henry viii. in 1542, after the destruction of the monasteries. there is, however, in the british museum, a ms. copy of a papal bull of 1551, for the refounding of the see, directed by pope paul iv. to cardinal pole. in 1836 the sees of bristol and gloucester were united, and remained so until 1897, when they were again separated. the church has a history long before it became a cathedral. it was the church of the monastery of augustinian canons, founded in 1142 by robert fitzhardinge, afterwards lord of berkeley, on the site of augustine's oak (so tradition says), where augustine met the british bishops in conference and offended them by his haughty demeanour. the consecration of probably the chancel took place six years later. in 1155 fitzhardinge received from the king the forfeited estates of roger de berkeley, and was thus enabled to extend his building operations, which were continued until the time of his death in 1170. the church consisted of a nave with north and south aisles, a central tower with north and south transepts, a presbytery with north and south aisles, and a processional path. the choir had a square ending, and consisted of three bays, the altar being at the east of the second bay, the last bay forming a _via processionum_. the chapter-house and vestibule are also norman. the early english builders erected the elder lady chapel, bristol cathedral being rich in lady chapels, and possessing two. abbot john (1196-1215) or his successor, david, was doubtless the builder. later early english work is evident in portions of the north and south transepts and in the berkeley chapel, but much of the work of this period has been destroyed. serious complaints were made at this time concerning the conduct of the monks, and sundry visitations were made and orders issued for the reform of the monastery. during the early decorated period the roof and east window of the elder lady chapel were added, and a little later (1306-1332) abbot knowle reconstructed the choir and choir aisles. with his work came the beginning of perpendicular aspiration, and it is an earnest of the course of the later english gothic which first manifested itself in the choir of gloucester. bristol nearly had the lucrative honour of receiving the body of the murdered king edward ii., slain at berkeley castle. but for fear of offending his patrons abbot knowle declined to have the burial here; hence the corpse was taken to gloucester, where it caused a great concourse of pilgrims, and brought many offerings. knowle's successor, abbot snow (1332-1341), was made a mitred abbot, and had a seat in parliament. he continued the work of his predecessor, erected a chantry, and built the newton chapel. soon after his death terrible misfortunes happened to the city and monastery. the black death invaded the land, and so great were its ravages that in bristol the living were hardly able to bury the dead, and few monks survived the awful malady. the effects were disastrous. for over a hundred years no building was attempted, and the monastery was in a deplorable condition. in the time of abbot newbury (1428-1473) the great tower was begun, and finished by his successor, hunt (1473-1481), who re-roofed the church. abbot newland (1481-1515) rebuilt the upper part of the abbey gateway in perpendicular style, and began to rebuild the ruinous nave. as the power of the town increased the citizens often had disputes with the monks over rights of fairs and markets and other matters, and the burghers of bristol were not more submissive than those of other places. hence the usual quarrels arose and disturbed the peace of the city. some of the succeeding abbots wrought some minor improvements, but in 1543 a most drastic remedy was applied to the ruinous nave. it was entirely pulled down, and not rebuilt until recent times. the monastery was dissolved like other similar institutions, and paul bush became the first bishop of the new see founded by henry viii. for a brief space during mary's reign the old worship was restored, and her majesty and philip bestowed costly gifts of copes and altar frontals and vestments. but in elizabeth's reign all "relics of popery" were ordered to be destroyed, such as the rood-lofts, tabernacles for images, and scripture texts and the table of the commandments to be painted in large characters on the wall. beyond purloining the lead from the roof neither the besiegers nor the besieged did much damage to the church during the civil war. on the site of the destroyed nave some houses were erected, but after the great riots these were taken down. the building seems to have been kept in fairly good order. edward colston, the benefactor of bristol, repaired the pavement. sundry restorations were taken in hand during the last century, and finally in 1865 it was decided to undertake the stupendous task of rebuilding the nave. the work was begun in 1868 and finished in 1888. since then the elder lady chapel and the tower have been restored, and the church is now complete. it contains much of unusual value and interest, and the completion of the nave is a triumph of nineteenth-century achievement. the exterior as we have said, the whole nave is new work, and therefore need not be examined very closely. the _west front_ is flanked by two towers, which bear the honoured names of bishop butler and edward colston. the style is an imitation of fourteenth-century work. there is a crocketed gable above the door, a rose window of good design, and some delicately-carved work surmounted by a cross. the face of the towers has three storeys; on the first a large window; on the second some lancets; and above two windows with louvres, the heads of which have crockets and finials. there are pinnacles at the four corners. on the _south side_ we see the remains of the monastic buildings. the north and east walks of the cloisters alone remain, except a few traces of the western walk, and the north is a restoration. we will visit the east walk from the cathedral. passing round to the _north side_ we notice the _north porch_ built in 1873. we have often noticed the figures of the four great doctors of the church--ss. gregory, ambrose, jerome and augustine. they appear in the sculptures of many of our cathedrals. a great storm of indignation arose at bristol when it was proposed to place these figures here, and the four evangelists were substituted. we can pass over the modern work, which is not wholly satisfactory, and notice the interesting character of the eastern portion. the north transept has some remains of norman work in the north wall. the north window is modern in memory of colston, and replaces an early english window. the building adjoining is the elder lady chapel, which is early english work of the early thirteenth century. the east window is decorated and is rather earlier than the choir built by abbot knowle (1306-1332). the battlemented parapet is, of course, a later addition. the buttresses of the chapel are decorated, and there are curious little flying buttresses connecting the two pinnacles. the lady chapel at the east end of the cathedral is of the same date as the choir, and has a large, noble and graceful window. passing round to the south we see the outside of the berkeley chapel, of decorated design, and adjoining it the sacristy and external walls of the newton chapel, chapter-house and modern vestry. here, too, is the old churchyard. the _central tower_ is perpendicular and was constructed by abbot newland (1481-1515) or his successor, abbot elliot (1515-1526). the interior retracing our steps, we enter the cathedral by the north porch and view the new _nave_ from the west end. the slender piers and fine vaulting are striking, and the work is in many ways very beautiful. the surface of the walls in the aisles is broken by canopied recesses for tombs, one only being occupied by a marble figure of dean elliot. the baptistry is in the south-west or colston tower, and is decorated in memory of bishop monk. already there are many memorial windows of good modern glass. the _north transept_ has some original norman work in the core of the buttresses and in the wall below the north window. some alterations were made during the decorated period, probably by abbot snow (1332-1341), and the arch leading to north choir aisle is perpendicular work constructed by abbot newland (1481-1515), called "the good abbot." either he or his successor, elliot, constructed the groined roof, which has on the bosses sculptured representations of the instruments of the passion. the north window is modern, in memory of colston. the well-known writer, "hugh conway" (f. fargus), has a memorial here, and also jane porter of literary fame, sterne's "maria" (mrs. draper), and the parents of macready, the actor. [illustration bristol the central tower from s e] the _south transept_ has much norman work in the lower part of the walls. part was rebuilt in early english times. abbot snow (1332-1341) continued the work and constructed the arch leading to the south choir aisle. the vault is perpendicular work by abbot elliot (1515-1526). on the south is a staircase now leading to the consistory court, but which formerly echoed with the tread of the monks as they came here to their midnight services from the dormitory. in this transept there are monuments to lady hesketh (1807), the friend of cowper; william phillips, the sub-sacrist or verger who prevented the rioters from profaning the cathedral in 1831; chantrey's monument of mrs. crawford; and most famous of all, _bishop butler_ (1752), one of the most honoured of english divines, the author of _the analogy of religion_. the inscription was written by southey. it is deplorable that a beautiful stone screen of tudor architecture, which separated the choir from the transept, was ruthlessly destroyed in 1860, and another one erected. this also has been removed, and the view of the east end, with its decorated piers and arches and the rich glass of the windows, is extremely fine. all the work before us was constructed by abbot knowle (1306-1332) and is decorated. the norman choir had two bays with a third for a processional path. knowle added two bays to the choir and built the lady chapel. the clustered piers have triple shafts which support the vaulting. the capitals on these shafts have very graceful foliage. the piers have no capitals, but the mouldings run round the arches continuously, as is not unusual in decorated work. the vaulting is what is known as lierne. iron screen work divides the aisles from the choir. the reredos is modern, erected in 1899, and has some fine carving. the _stalls_ were originally decorated, but "restoration" has destroyed much, and little of the old work remains. there are some curious _misereres_: a fox preaching to geese, a tilting with brooms between a man and a woman, one mounted on a pig, the other on a turkey-cock, the story of reynard the fox. the pavement is new, and not altogether successful. the organ is a noble instrument placed on the west side, and has been often reconstructed. the _throne_ is modern and has some fine carving. passing into the north aisle we notice the peculiar vaulting. it will be seen that the roof of the choir and aisles is the same height, and in order to support the weight of the choir-vault transoms are thrown across the aisles supported on arches, and above a vaulting shaft springs from the centre of the transom. this ingenious plan produces the same effect as a flying buttress and is most ingeniously arranged. the windows have beautiful decorated tracery and the ball-flower is extensively used in the string-course beneath them. the east window has seventeenth-century glass, said to have been given by nell gwynne, more probably by dean glemham (1661-1667). it treats of the resurrection, with jonah and abraham's sacrifice as types of the same, the ascension with elijah as a type. there are monuments here of robert codrington (1618); harriet middleton (1826); paul bush (1558), the first bishop; robert southey, the poet; bishop westfield (1644); bishop howell (1649); and mary mason, wife of the poet, with some touching lines (1767). between the aisle and the elder lady chapel are the effigies of maurice, lord berkeley (1368), and his wife, elizabeth. there is a tablet to the memory of robert fitzhardinge, the founder of the cathedral and also of the house of berkeley. some norman corbels will be noticed in the door leading to a staircase in the third bay. the _elder lady chapel_ is early english and therefore earlier than the choir, and was probably built by abbot john (1196-1215); it is therefore, as the architectural details testify, very early work. the east window is decorated. there are some curious grotesques in the spandrels of the arcade--a hunter-goat blowing a horn and carrying a hare on his back, a ram and an ape playing musical instruments, st. michael with the dragon, and a fox carrying off a goose. the foliage is what is known as stiff leaved, and opposed to the more natural foliage of the decorated period. the roof is early decorated. the eastern _lady chapel_, formerly the chancel of the choir, was built by abbot knowle and is decorated like the rest of the eastern part of the cathedral. it has a magnificent east window with beautiful tracery. this is a jesse window, showing the descent of our lord from jesse, the father of david, and the glass is in the upper parts of the same date as the stone-work. above we see the arms of many distinguished families--the berkeleys, mowbrays, beauchamps and others. the glass in the other windows is also of the same period and is of much interest. the parapet under the windows is modern. the reredos is ancient, of the same date as the chapel, and designed by knowle, but it has been much altered in perpendicular times. the _sedilia_ have been much restored. a characteristic feature of this cathedral is the star-shaped recesses designed by knowle, which are very beautiful. in one of these is abbot newbury's tomb with ball-flower ornament; in another abbot hunt (1473). here, too, is abbot newland's tomb, and a modern brass to the memory of bishop butler, and at the back of the reredos a brass to bishop ellicott. the _south choir aisle_ resembles the north. it has a very similar east window, and the same curious vaulting. two very interesting chapels adjoin this aisle. the _berkeley chapel_ is entered by a richly-ornamented doorway which leads into the old sacristy, with its chests for relics and plate, and a hearth for baking sacramental bread. abbot knowle was a student of nature and loved to reproduce in stone the fruits and flowers which he saw growing around him. in the ornaments of the doorway we see the ammonite and medlar. the chapel had two altars, as we see the remains of two piscinæ, beneath the two east windows, separated by a screen. there is an altar tomb of thomas, lord berkeley (1321). the lower part of the tomb is early english. the other chapel is the _newton chapel_, which is late decorated and almost perpendicular in some of its details. the ball-flower has ceased to be used as an ornament. there are many memorials of the newton family here, and one to bishop gray (1834). returning to the south choir aisle we notice another of the curious recesses adorned with oak leaves, acorns and mistletoe. there are some more berkeley tombs which furnish interesting studies of the armour of the period. we now enter the _cloisters_. as we have said, only the north and east walks remain; the north is entirely new, and the east has been much restored. the vestibule and chapter-house are, however, part of the original norman building, and the work is of transitional character. it is oblong in shape. the east wall is modern and has three windows. the north and south walls have beautiful arcades, and above lattice work and zigzag mouldings. the west wall has three rows of arcading. twelve stone coffins were found here and a curious piece of ancient sculpture representing our lord wounding the head of satan and rescuing a child by means of the cross. adjoining the chapter-house was the dormitory. the refectory was on the south side of the cloister garth. it still exists after many transformations and is the house of the master of the cathedral school. the _great gateway_ should be visited. the lower part is of norman character, and was part of the founder's work; the upper is perpendicular and was the work of abbot elliot. he probably renewed the rich norman ornamentation, so much so that in the opinion of mr. godwin, the great authority on bristol architecture, "the so-called norman gateway of college green is no norman gateway, but a perpendicular restoration of the old work." another gateway, which formerly led to the palace destroyed in 1831, exists, which is part of the original norman work of the cathedral. at the south-west corner of the cloister is an early english doorway, which formerly led to the refectory. it is a sad pity that so much of the old monastery has been destroyed. dimensions total length 300 ft. length of nave 125 ft. width of nave 69 ft. height 52 ft. area 22,500 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1142-1170)--part of transepts, chapter-house, lower part of gateway. early english (1196-1215)--elder lady chapel, parts of transepts and berkeley chapel. decorated (1306-1332)--choir, lady chapel and stalls. (1332-1341)--newton chapel. perpendicular (1428-1481)--great tower, upper part of gateway, roof. modern--the nave. the city has a large number of interesting churches. the noble church of st. mary, redcliffe, one of the finest in england, chiefly fourteenth century; all hallows' (norman and perpendicular); temple church (decorated and perpendicular); st. philip's, st. stephen's, st. john's, are the most important. wells cathedral the beautiful city of wells entirely owes its origin to the noble church and palace built here in early times, around which the houses and population grew. it is one of the most picturesque in england, situated in the most delightful country, and possessing the most perfect ecclesiastical buildings which can be conceived. history tells us that ina in 704 built a church here, near a spring dedicated to st. andrew and known as "the wells," and edward the elder, son of alfred the great, formed a bishopric for somerset and set the bishop's throne here. three abbots of glastonbury became bishops of wells, which was richly endowed. the first norman prelate was giso, who built some dwellings for the secular canons which were destroyed by his successor, john de villula, a native of tours, who erected a palace in their stead. moreover, he moved the seat of the see to bath, where he had formerly practised medicine, and wells was allowed to become ruinous. bath minster we shall visit presently. there was much ancient rivalry between the two places and sore disputings, which were only partially settled by the conjoining of the title "bath and wells." bishop robert (1135-1166) had pity on the ruinous state of wells and rebuilt the church. this took place while stephen and matilda were fighting for the crown, and bishop robert scorned not to take up arms on behalf of stephen, and was moreover imprisoned by the adherents of his rival. almost all of robert's work has disappeared in subsequent alterations. jocelyn de wells (1206-1239) has for many years had the credit of building the main part of this beautiful house of god. it is hard to have one's beliefs and early traditions upset, but modern authorities with much reason tell us that we are wrong, and that another jocelyn--one reginald fitz-jocelyn (1171-1191)--was the main builder of wells. old documents recently discovered decide the question, and moreover the style of the architecture is certainly earlier than the fully-developed early english of jocelyn de wells. the latter, and also bishop savaricus (1192-1205) carried out the work, but the whole design and a considerable part of the building are due to bishop reginald. savarac or savaricus was concerned with the release of richard i. from his prison in germany, and was one of the hostages for the payment of his ransom. he styled himself bishop of bath and glastonbury, and when the monks objected he stormed the abbey and beat and imprisoned them. jocelyn de wells found his church unfinished and dilapidated. his was a grand era for church-building; moreover, he was a friend of hugh of lincoln and bishop poore of salisbury, both consummate architects. so he set to work to finish and repair reginald's rising church, completed the nave and added that wonderful west front which is one of the glories of this cathedral. bishop burnell (1275-1292) erected in later early english style the crypt of the chapter-house, which was itself partly built some time late in the decorated period, probably by bishop william de la march, a favourite of edward i., who is said to have advised the plundering of the monasteries. during the episcopate of drokensford (1309-1329) the central tower was raised, the choir was begun and the lady chapel and chapter-house finished. dean godelee at this time was a great builder and seems to have devised these additions. bishop ralph of shrewsbury (1329-1363) continued to perfect the cathedral, enlarging the presbytery and building the fine east end. he did much work outside his church, founding the college, restoring his palaces and fortifying his palace at wells. the upper part of the harewell tower was built by the bishop of that name (1366-1386). this is the south-west tower. the north-west tower was built later still by bishop bubwith (1407-1424). this prelate built the east walk of the cloister, the west and south walks being finished by bishop beckington (1443-1464) in the perpendicular style. wells was then in its full glory. the church, the out-buildings, the episcopal palace, the deanery all combined to form a wonderful architectural triumph, a group of buildings which represented the best achievement of english gothic art. it was shorn of some of its glory at the reformation. the church was plundered of the treasures which the piety of many generations had heaped together; the beautiful lady chapel in the cloisters was pulled down, and the infamous duke of somerset robbed it of its wealth and meditated further sacrilege. amongst these despoilers and desecrators of churches there was a mighty hunger for lead ("i would that they had found it scalding," exclaims an old chaplain of wells). once the richest of sees, it would probably have been suppressed altogether, but for the advent of queen mary to the throne, who appointed bishop bourn and restored the palace. in the civil war it escaped. some damage was done, the palace was despoiled, and at the restoration much repair was found needful. monmouth's rebellion wrought havoc here. the rebels came here in no amiable temper, defaced the statues on the west front, and did much wanton mischief, and would have caroused about the altar had not lord grey stood before it with his sword drawn and thus preserved it from the insults of ruffians. then came the evils of "restoration." a terrible renewing was begun in 1848, when the old stalls were destroyed and much damage done. better things were accomplished in 1868, save that the grandeur of the west front was belittled by a pipy restoration, when irish limestone with its harsh hue was used to embellish it. in the palace, too, modern ideas have effaced much of the refinement of its thirteenth-century beauty. the exterior fergusson declares that though wells is one of the smallest it is perhaps, taken altogether, the most beautiful of english cathedrals. some of the distant prospects are perhaps the best. there is a fine view from the shepton-mallett road. we enter the precincts by browne's gate at the end of sadler street, and see before us the magnificent _west front_, a masterpiece of art superior to any in this country or abroad. it is 150 feet in width and 70 feet high. six deep buttresses project from its face. there are six tiers of sculpture. the doors are small. not for the living throng, but to the dead was this front dedicated who lie in the cemetery at its feet.[12] here is the history of god's church on earth expressing its faith and pointing to the hope of the resurrection. its style is early english and is intermediate between the west front of lincoln and salisbury. the upper part of the towers is perpendicular, that on the north being finished by bishop bubwith (1407-1424), that on the south by harewell (1366-1386). in the lowest tier the sculptures have nearly all gone. in the second are angels in small quatrefoils. in the third subjects from the old and new testaments. in the fourth and fifth there are 120 statues of kings and bishops and heroes of english history from egbert to henry ii. the sixth is called the resurrection tier. and above are the angels and apostles, and finally the lord in glory. it is difficult to identify the statues with any feeling of certainty, though many lists have been published which may, or may not, be correct. there can be no doubt about the excellence of the sculpture, and all authorities unite in praising them as being the perfection of design and execution. flaxman said of them that in them there is a beautiful simplicity, an irresistible sentiment, and sometimes a grace excelling more modern productions. the _north porch_ is earlier than the west front and possesses transitional features. the zigzag ornament is used, and shows that norman traditions have not yet passed away; though early english foliage appears on the weather moulding. on the capitals on the east side are representations of the martyrdom of st. edmund, who shared the fate of st. sebastian and was afterwards beheaded. mystic animals appear in the panels on either side of the arch--one is a cockatrice. above, three lancets light the parvise. the _central tower_ is 182 feet high, and is early english as far as the height of the roof. in the decorated period the upper part was added, which caused much disaster, as the foundations were unable to bear the additional weight. very skilful treatment was required, as we shall see when we enter the church. the _nave_ is early english, but perpendicular tracery has been inserted in the windows, and the walls of both the aisles and clerestory have been crowned with a parapet of decorated work. the _north transept_ is rather earlier than the nave, and retains much of the transitional character. it has two aisles, and is not so richly ornamented as the nave. the windows are pointed and have perpendicular tracery. passing on we come to the _chain gate_, a very beautiful structure erected by bishop beckington (1443-1465) in perpendicular style. figures of st. andrew and other saints appear in the niches. the gallery over the chain gate connects the cathedral with the vicar's college. after passing under the gate we see the beautiful _chapter-house_, which is octagonal, we are surprised to find the chapter-house in this position and far removed from the cloisters, but this is accounted for by the fact that secular canons served this cathedral, and not monks; hence the cloisters were an ornamental appendant rather than the centre of the monastic life. the chapter-house was finished in 1319 in decorated style under the guidance of dean john de godilee, who employed one william joy as the master-mason. there are some curious gargoyles here. the _choir_ and _lady chapel_ form a beautiful composition. the western portion of the choir was until recently attributed to jocelyn. [illustration wells cathedral] it is now generally believed to have been the work of bishop reginald, jocelyn's predecessor. the eastern portion is the work of bishop ralph (1329-1363), the lady chapel was finished in 1326. all this is therefore decorated, and windows of the same style have been inserted in the earlier western portion. there were two lady chapels adjoining the cloisters, but these were ruthlessly destroyed by bishop barlow in 1552. the _cloister_ does not possess the usual features of a monastic church. it is unusually large, and there are only three walks, the north being absent. the wall of the east walk is early english, built by jocelyn, but the rest was rebuilt by bishop bubwith; the west and south walks by bishop beckington and finished soon after his death. the style is perpendicular. the grotesque bosses are interesting. an early english doorway leads to the palace. over the west walk is the singing-school, and over the east the library. beckington's rebus (a _beacon_ and a _tun_) occurs in the bosses. the garth is known as "palm churchyard" from the yew tree in the centre. branches of yews were carried in processions on palm sunday, and this probably accounts for the prevalence of yew trees in churchyards. the cloisters have been made the receptacle of many monuments removed from the cathedral. the _library_ over the east walk, built by bubwith, has about 3000 volumes, and contains the books belonging to bishop ken. an aldine edition of aristotle has the autograph and notes of erasmus, and there are several important mss., the chains which formerly attached the books to the desks, a thirteenth-century pyx-cover, and a crozier of the same period. the _bishop's palace_, unfortunately much restored in 1846, is one of the finest examples of a thirteenth-century house existing in england. it was begun by jocelyn. the great hall, now in ruins, built by bishop burnell (1275-1292) for the purpose of great entertainments, was destroyed by barlow. the chapel is decorated. the gatehouse, moat and fortifications were constructed by bishop ralph of shrewsbury. the _deanery_ was built by dean gunthorpe in 1475, chaplain to edward iv. on the north is the famous _vicar's close_, which has forty-two houses, constructed mainly by bishop beckington (1443-1464), with a common hall erected by bishop ralph (1340), and chapel by bubwith, but altered a century later for the use of the vicars-choral. we notice the old fireplace, the pulpit from which one of the brethren read aloud during meals, and an ancient painting representing bishop ralph making his grant to the kneeling vicars, and some additional figures painted in the time of elizabeth. the interior few will fail to be impressed by the many beauties of this glorious _nave_, which we will gaze at from the west end. it is rather narrow, but the proportions are good, and the magnificent clustered columns and enriched capitals, the groups of bearing shafts, grotesque carvings, and the fine vault, all combine to form a noble structure. the curious inverted arches at the east end of the nave are remarkable. these were added early in the fourteenth century to save the collapsing central tower; and so skilfully was the work done that the object of the builders was completely accomplished. the nave has generally been assigned to jocelyn, but architects have noticed that it is only a little removed from the norman style, and recent investigators have shown that the greater part is the work of bishop reginald (1171-1191). the four eastern bays are assigned to him, and the rest to jocelyn. a close inspection will reveal several points of difference between the earlier and later work. the heads of a king and bishop between the fourth and fifth piers (counting from the west) mark the change. the difference may be thus tabulated[13]- east | west | masonry in small courses of | the blocks are larger. stone. | | small human heads at angles | no heads. of piers. | | grotesque animals in tympana | foliage and larger heads. of triforium. | | medallions above triforium | flush with the wall. sunk in the wall. | | capitals plainer. | more ornamented and richer. the piers are octagonal with clustered shafts. the capitals are enriched with foliage. birds, animals and monsters twine and perch among the foliage. the triforium arcade is continuous, and composed of lancet openings. the clerestory windows have perpendicular tracery inserted by beckington. the roof is vaulted, with bosses of foliage. the _music gallery_ stands in the central bay on the south side erected in perpendicular style, and near it formerly was another gallery supported by two brackets, on which are carved the heads of a king and bishop. the curious and grotesque carvings should be carefully studied. the west end has an arcade of five arches. above are three lancets with dog-tooth moulding and perpendicular tracery. the glass was collected by dean creyghton on the continent during his exile with charles ii., and represents the life of st. john baptist. its date is 1507. the other windows have the figures of king ina and bishop ralph. the north and south aisles correspond with the nave in their architecture. perpendicular tracery has been inserted in the windows. under the north-west tower is the chapel of the holy cross, now used as a vestry, and the opposite chapel is now used by the ringers. there are two beautiful chantries in the nave--one is bishop bubwith's chapel (1421), with much mutilated east end; the other is sugar's chantry, formerly dedicated to st. edmund. hugh sugar, dean of wells, died in 1489. the fan-tracery of the roof, the niches and the cornice of angels are worthy of notice. the _pulpit_ was erected by bishop knight (1541-1547). the lectern is by bishop creyghton, who erected the west window, and shared charles ii.'s exile. the _transepts_ are rather earlier than the nave, and are part of reginald's work. they have aisles, and the capitals of the piers are richly sculptured. in the _south transept_ we see on the west elias, a woman extracting a thorn from her foot, a man with toothache, the grape-stealers and their fate. on the east there is only foliage and no figures. the chapel of st. calixtus is on the east, containing the beautiful monument of dean husse (1305), with its finely-carved panels. the subjects are the annunciation, god the father, and some ecclesiastics. the other chapel is that of st. martin, now a vestry, and has the tomb of a chancellor of wells (1454). in the transept are the monuments of lady lisle (1464), wife of the earl of shrewsbury, and of bishop william de la marchia (1302). the _font_ is norman, and probably the only remaining link with the early church built by bishop robert (1136-1166). the cover is jacobean. the _north transept_ resembles the south. here we see again a series of strange carvings, amongst which are moses and aaron, man with goose, woman with toothache. the reason why so many representations of this distressing malady occur is that the shrine of st. william bytton (1274) was famous for its cures of persons so suffering. on the east are the chapels of st. david, with tomb of bishop still (1607), and holy cross with tomb of bishop kidder (1703). another tomb is that of bishop cornish (1513). the famous _clock_ is here with its tilting knights and human-shaped striker, who perform wondrous things when the expiration of each hour summons them to action. we will not dispel the curiosity of the visitor by any description of the performance, which is popular, and should not be missed. the _tower_ is of early english date as far as the roofs, and has a fine fan-tracery vault. as we have said, it was raised in the decorated period, and the superstructure caused a dangerous settlement, which was counteracted by the inverted arches, and some flying buttresses. the _choir-screen_ is decorated, and has not been improved by modern restorers. above it is the organ, a modern instrument, which replaces the old organ erected by dean creyghton. the _choir_ is very beautiful, but it is only a shadow of what it was before the evil hand of the restorer rested heavily upon it. it is terrible to contemplate the mischief which has been accomplished here in the fatal restoration of 1848. however, it would have been difficult to efface all its beauties, and some of these happily remain. the three west bays are probably reginald's work, and were formerly attributed to jocelyn; the rest is decorated, and two of the west piers have been converted into this style. there is no triforium, its place being taken by rich tabernacle work. at the east end there are three graceful arches; and above these rich tabernacle work, and a large window of seven lights with late decorated tracery. there is a lierne vault. the vandals of the nineteenth century destroyed nearly all of the old woodwork, and substituted canopies of doulting stone. the pulpit is modern; the throne was erected by beckington, but has unfortunately been much restored. the _misereres_ have happily been saved, and are very remarkable. they are early decorated, and can scarcely be surpassed. amongst the many curious subjects are a mermaid, griffin and various monsters, two goats butting, cats, peacock, cock, fox and geese, lions, rabbits, etc. [illustration entrance to crypt.] the glass of the east window, and of those on each side of it, is fourteenth-century work (_circa_ 1330). the east window is very fine, and is a jesse window, showing the genealogy of our lord from the "stem of jesse," with figures of kings and prophets, the virgin, and finally the crucifixion and the judgment. in the north-east window is a figure of st. george. the _south choir aisle_ is of the same character as the choir; the windows are decorated. here is the famous monument of bishop bytton (1274), who was canonised, and whose tomb was much resorted to by pilgrims, especially by those who suffered from toothache. this is the most ancient example of an incised slab in england. near the saint lie bishop beckington (1464), (who did so much for this cathedral), and bishop hervey (1894). below the effigy is a skeleton-like figure, which was intended to proclaim the moral maxim, _memento mori_. the iron-work should be noticed. here also are the tombs of bishop harewell (1386), bishop hooper (1727), and bishop lake (1626). in the chapel of st. john the evangelist are buried dean gunthorpe (1498), the builder of the deanery, and dean jenkyns (1854), who was responsible for the "restoration" of the choir. there is a fine decorated piscina here. the _retro-choir_ is very beautiful. slender piers of purbeck marble support the fine vault. the carving of the capitals and bosses is very excellent. all is in the decorated style. the _lady chapel_ is of the same date and style, finished in 1326. its shape is pentagonal, and it is of rare beauty. the glass is of the same date as that of the choir, but has been restored. angels bearing the instruments of the passion appear in the east window, and in the tracery of the other windows are the evangelistic emblems and heads of patriarchs and saints. at the south-east corner of the retro-choir was st. catherine's chapel. the glass is old and rich. there is a monument by chantrey of john phelips, and that of bishop drokensford (1329), who was bishop during the building of the lady chapel, and part of the choir is a graceful structure. at the opposite corner is st. stephen's chapel, and then we enter the north-east transept or chapel of st. john baptist, which contains bishop creyghton's tomb (1672), also monuments of john de myddleton (1337), bishop berkeley (1581), dean forrest (1446). the _north choir aisle_ has the tomb of bishop ralph (1363), and an effigy, attributed to bishop giso (1088). bishop jocelyn caused several of these effigies to be executed, in memory of his predecessors. on the north is a door leading to a vaulted passage, which conducts us to the crypt of the chapter-house. notice the curious carved heads in this passage. there is a curious stone lantern in the wall near the inner door. this crypt or undercroft is on the same level as the floor of the church, and was used as a treasury. it was finished about 1286, and is late early english. there is a massive octagonal pier in the centre, and eight other round piers, which support the vaulting. a piscina in the doorway has a curious sculptured dog gnawing a bone. here are preserved a cope chest, some stone coffins, and other treasures. retracing our steps to the aisle, we enter the noble _staircase_ leading to the chapter-house. it is early decorated, the door at the upper end being added in the perpendicular period, when the chain gate was erected. two decorated windows light the staircase. the _chapter-house_, octagonal in plan, is entered by a fine doorway composed of double arches. there is a curious boss here, composed of four bearded heads. there is a central pillar, with clustered shafts of purbeck marble, from which the beautiful ribs of the vaulted roof spring. there are eight windows, the mouldings of the arches being ornamented with ball-flower, and retaining some old glass. an arcade runs round the wall under the windows, with ornamented canopies, and beneath this are the stone benches. sculptured heads and grotesques appear in the ornamentation of the arches. this chapter-house is later than the staircase, and was probably built by bishop william de la marchia (1293-1302), the vault being added after his time, and finished in 1319. dimensions total length 383 ft. length of nave 161 ft. breadth of nave 82 ft. height of nave 67 ft. length of choir 103 ft. length of transepts 135 ft. height of towers 160 ft. area 29,070 sq. ft. principal building dates early norman--font. transition (1174-1191)--eastern bays of nave, transepts, north porch, and west bays of choir. early english (1218-1286)--west front, western part of nave, undercroft of chapter-house, palace. early decorated--staircase to chapter-house. decorated (1293-1363)--chapter-house, lady chapel, central tower, inverted arches, east part of choir. perpendicular (1386-1400)--western towers, gateways, chain gate, deanery. bath abbey for some time bath was the rival of wells, and hot and fierce was the contention between the monks of st. peter and the canons of st. andrew at wells. the monastery was founded here in saxon times by offa in 775. in early norman times, john de villula of tours, who is said to have practised medicine at bath, became bishop of wells, and, by grant from william ii., removed the seat of the bishopric to bath, and rebuilt the abbey church, which now became a cathedral. but the monks liked not this arrangement. in the time of bishop robert (1135-1166), in order to settle their disputes, it was decided that the bishop should be styled "of bath and wells." but even this did not produce peace. when jocelyn died the monks of bath elected roger without the consent of the canons of wells, and both chapters nearly ruined themselves by appeals to the pope and costly litigation. the church at bath fell much into decay, and was entirely rebuilt by bishop oliver king of wells (1495-1503). he is said to have seen a vision somewhat resembling jacob's dream, a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, and a voice saying, "let an oliver stablish the crown and a king build the church." a representation of this dream appears on the west front of bath minster, and an inscription referring to the parable of the trees (judges ix. 8):- "trees going to choose their king said, be to us the olive(r) king." the style of the church is late perpendicular, and was scarcely completed before the monastery was seized and dissolved. it was left in a sorry condition, roofless and ruinous, until it was restored by bishop montague in the seventeenth century. it has been restored in modern times, and has lost that dilapidated appearance which long distinguished it. it is a small and not very interesting building, though it lacks not some striking features, and certainly contains some fine tombs and interesting memorials of the fashionable folk who flocked to bath in the days of its splendour. [illustration plan of wells cathedral] footnotes: [12] prior's _gothic art_. [13] murray's _cathedrals_. exeter cathedral exeter, the noble city of the west, which proudly bears the motto granted to it by queen elizabeth, _semper fidelis_--"always faithful," has a venerable cathedral, which was commenced in norman times on the site of a saxon church, entirely removed. the principal feature of exeter is its decorated work. a large portion of the cathedral was erected during that period; and as salisbury is the most perfect example of early english architecture, exeter represents the most beautiful specimen of the decorated style. southey's judgment on the cathedral was that "it looked finest when you could only see half of it." indeed, it is difficult to obtain a good view, and the north side is the only one which presents a favourable prospect. the historian of exeter cathedral, mr. hewett, wrote: "as we walk round this, we cannot but consider that the cathedral, though far from lofty, and presenting none of the majestic features of several of its sister churches, is nevertheless a fine composition. the aisles of the choir and nave, intercepted by the stately norman towers, further broken by the prominence of their chantries, and spanned by flying buttresses richly pinnacled; the large, pure windows, which pierce both aisles and clerestory; the roof, highly pitched, and finished with crest-tiles, form a decidedly graceful and pleasing whole." with this excellent description all visitors will agree. glancing back at the early history of the see, we find that crediton was the ancient seat of the bishop, where was born in 680 st. winfrid, called boniface, the apostle of the germans. there was a monastery at exeter in the time of athelstan, which was much plundered by the danes. in 1050 bishop leofric, the favourite of edward the confessor, removed his episcopal seat to exeter, and continued to hold it when william the conqueror came. osbern was appointed in 1072, but he contented himself with the old saxon church, and it was not until william warelwast (1107-1136), nephew of william the conqueror, became bishop that the present cathedral was begun. the norman work was continued by bishop marshall (1194-1206), who is said to have "finished the building according to the plot and foundation which his predecessors laid." [illustration exeter cathedral] exeter has suffered many sieges, and during that of stephen, in 1136, the cathedral was much injured by fire. the two towers at the end of the transepts are all the portions that remain of warelwast's building, and one of these (that on the north) has been much altered, until it has assumed the features of perpendicular style. this was done by bishop courtenay (1478-1487), when he transferred here a great bell from llandaff. in 1258 a poor man's son, one walter bronescombe, though not in priests' orders, was elected bishop, and set to work to rebuild his cathedral, his labours being continued by his successor. the lady chapel with adjoining chapels was partly built by this bishop. his successor, bishop quivil, the foe of the franciscans (1280-1291), finished it, and erected the north and south transepts. the choir, nave, porches and west front were built by bishops stapledon (1308-1326) and grandisson (1327-1369). stapledon was a great statesman, and in the troubles of the second edward's reign took the side of the king against the queen and mortimer, and was murdered by the citizens of london in cheapside. grandisson was also a mighty prelate who refused to allow the archbishop of canterbury to visit his cathedral as his ecclesiastical superior. he, with a band of armed men, met the intruding archbishop at the west door and forbade him to enter, and an armed conflict was with difficulty averted. these mediæval bishops were very powerful. they usually built a strong wall with gates around the precincts of the cathedral, and ruled their clergy, their servants and dependants quite independently of any external control. the conflicts between the clergy and the townsfolk were very numerous, and the struggle severe in nearly all our cities and monastic towns. when queen elizabeth came to the throne, "visitors" were appointed to examine churches and to remove all that savoured of "superstition." their zeal outran their discretion, and much mischief was wrought in exeter and elsewhere by their iconoclastic violence. strange events took place during the commonwealth period. the cathedral was divided into two portions by a brick wall, and in one called "west peter's" an independent preacher thundered forth his declamation, while in the other, "east peter's," a presbyterian divine conducted his form of service. happily the restoration put an end to these curious proceedings, and the wall was taken down, and the church of england service renewed. we will now examine the west front erected at the close of the fourteenth century. the screen is very remarkable and beautiful, and has three rows of figures of saints and kings and warriors. in the first row appear angels; the second has figures of kings and knights, and the third saints, and figures of athelstan and edward the confessor stand above them. some of the ancient figures have crumbled away and been replaced by modern sculptures. bishop brantyngham was the builder of this screen, who lived in the time of richard ii., and the crowns and armour represented on the figures belong to that period. the figures in the lower row, beginning on the left, are:- 1. canute. 2. edgar. 3. ethelred. 4. justice, } small figures 5. fortitude, } above north 6. discipline,} door. 7. edward ii. 8. henry iii. 9. } unknown bishops. 10. } 11. richard i. 12. henry ii. 13. stephen. 14. henry i. 15. william i.,{ a modern { imitation. 16. robert of normandy. 17. william ii. 18. a king unknown. 19. } bishops. 20. } 21. john. 22. edward i. 23. edward iii., { over 24. the black prince,{ south { door. 25. godfrey de bouillon. 26. stephen, count of blois. 27. guy de lusignan. 28. ethelwold. 29. alfred. 30. edward the elder. in the upper row, beginning at the left hand, are:- 1. samuel. 2. samson. 3. jephtha. 4. gideon. 5. barak. 6. deborah. 7. noah. 8. st. matthew. 9. st. john. 10. st. jude. 11. st. bartholomew. 12. st. matthias. 13. st. philip. 14. st. andrew. 15. st. peter. 16. king richard ii. 17. king athelstan. 18. st. paul. 19. st. john. 20. st. james the greater. 21. st. thomas. { a 22. st. james the less,{ modern { statue. 23. st. simon. 24. st. luke. 25. st. mark. 26. st. augustine. 27. king ethelbert. 28. st. berinus. 29. st. boniface. 30. kynigils, } 31. cwichelm, } 32. kenwalch, } kings of 33. kentwald, } wessex. 34. caedwalla,} 35. ina, } the sculpture has been pronounced "remarkable, characteristic and beautiful," but that at wells and lincoln is earlier and perhaps better. above the screen is a platform on which the bishop used to stand when he blessed the people, and also the choristers and minstrels when they hailed with song the advent of distinguished persons. the three doorways should be noticed. the central one has a moulding of carved foliage, and on the central boss of the groined roof is a representation of the crucifixion. the south doorway has two sculptures, the appearance of an angel to joseph in a dream, and the adoration of the shepherds. between the south and central doorways is the chantry of st. radegunde, which we will examine on entering the cathedral. the north porch was built by grandisson, and is very beautiful with its triple canopy. the puritan soldiers have mutilated the crucifixion scene on the east wall. on the central boss is a well-carved agnus dei. notice the cresting of the roof in a _fleur-de-lis_ pattern, which somewhat relieves the long, unbroken stretch of leaden roofing. we now enter the cathedral. though the nave is less lofty than many, it is most beautiful, and the richness of the architectural details abundantly atones for the lack of height, which is 70 feet. the roof springs from slender vaulting shafts and is studded with beautifully-carved bosses, representing foliage, animals, strange figures and heraldic shields. the murder of thomas à becket occurs in one of these bosses. clustered pillars of purbeck marble support the roof and separate the nave from the aisles. notice the sculptured corbels between the arches, which are peculiar, and the exquisite carving of the leaves and figures. in the triforium on the north side is the _minstrels' gallery_, the most perfect in england, where the musicians played on high festivals, or on the occasion of some royal visitor. the figures are represented as playing on various instruments--cittern, bagpipes, flageolet, violin, harp, trumpet, organ, guitar, some unknown wind instrument, tambour and cymbals. the heads of edward iii. and his queen, philippa, support two niches. this gallery is a very beautiful example of mediæval art. instead of the usual triforium we have a blind arcade, the height of which is much less than in most cathedrals, but above this there is a very lofty clerestory. the windows of the nave are decorated, and have a great variety of most beautiful and elaborate tracery. they are arranged in pairs, one window corresponding to its opposite. the glass of the west window, erected in 1766, is a great eyesore, and spoils the beauty of the stone tracery. [illustration detail of minstrels' gallery] we have abundant evidence that this noble nave was constructed almost entirely in norman times, and subsequently transformed into the decorated style, just as winchester was changed from norman to perpendicular work. disturbances of masonry in both north and south walls indicate the position of norman pilasters, and outside flat buttresses of norman type are observed which correspond to the position of these. we gather that the nave was finished in norman times by bishop marshall, and that stapledon (1308-1326) began the transformation, which was carried on and completed by grandisson (1327-1369). nor must the work of our modern men be disregarded. the nave was in a very dilapidated state. the purbeck marble columns were fallen into decay, and hideous high pews disfigured the view. sir gilbert scott in recent times most judiciously restored the cathedral, and made it again one of the finest in the land. we will now examine the chapels and monuments in the nave. on the left of the west door is the _chapel of st. radegunde_, which contained formerly the body of bishop grandisson; but in the time of queen bess the tomb was plundered and his remains scattered no one knows whither. st. radegunde was a frankish princess, the wife of chlotar, the son of king clovis. notice the carved figure of our lord on the roof, his hand outstretched to bless, and the holes in the stone for suspending lamps. on the north side is the chapel of st. edmund, which is earlier than the nave itself, and was connected with it by bishop grandisson. the following monuments in the nave should be examined:-_north aisle_- tablet memorial of lieutenant allen, and window to memory of one of the earls of devon. brass memorial of men of north devon regiment slain in afghan war (1880-1881), with regimental flags. memorial of 9th lancers who died in india. tablet to the musician samuel wesley. _south side of nave_- high tomb of hugh courtenay (d. 1377), second earl of devon, and of his countess, margaret (d. 1391), a connection of edward i. the effigies have been much mutilated. brass to memory of general elphinstone, v.c. (d. 1890). brass to hugh, second earl of devon. window to thomas latimer. window to dean cowie. we now pass into the north transept. the norman towers at each end of the transepts were originally separated from the church. bishop quivil, however, wishing to enlarge the building, took down the massive walls which divided the interior of the towers from the body of nave, and constructed arches to sustain the sides of the tower. the original norman walls remain, and in the north transept one norman window and two narrow, circular-headed doorways. quivil also erected the two galleries. on the east of north transept is _st. paul's chapel_, used as a vestry for lay choral vicars; there are here some interesting old tiles with heraldic devices, and amongst them the arms of richard, duke of cornwall, brother of henry iii. near this is the _sylke chantry_, founded in 1485 by william sylke, sub-chanter, whose skeleton effigy proclaims the message--_sum quod eris, fueram quod es, pro me, precor, ora_. an interesting mural painting has been discovered representing the resurrection. the old clock is very remarkable, which is about 700 years old. the historian of the cathedral thus describes it:-"on the face or dial, which is about 7 feet in diameter, are two circles: one marked from one to thirty for the moon's age; the other figured from one to twelve twice over for the hours. in the centre is fixed a semi-globe representing the earth, round which a smaller ball, the moon, painted half white and half black, revolves monthly, and by turning on its axis shows the varying phases of the luminary which it represents. between the two circles is a third ball, representing the sun, with a _fleur-de-lis_, which points to the hours as it daily revolves round the earth." the maker of the clock was a believer in the old-fashioned astronomy which recognised the earth, and not the sun, as the centre of the solar system. below the clock is a door leading to the tower, which contains the great bell called "peter," which is only exceeded in weight by the great tom of oxford. it was brought from llandaff by bishop courtenay at the end of the fifteenth century, and weighs 12,500 tons. it was cracked on 5th november 1611, "from a too violent ringing in commemoration of the gunpowder plot." we now enter the south transept, which is similar to the north. the monuments here are interesting. there is the supposed tomb of bishop john the chaunter (1185-1191), but is of later date; a sixteenth century monument of leofric, the first bishop of exeter; a mural tablet to the memory of sir peter carew, who played an important part in the rebellion of the devon men, caused by the changes introduced into the prayer-book at the reformation, when they besieged exeter and well-nigh gained an entrance. sir john gilbert has a monument, a relative of sir walter raleigh, one of the brave discoverers of the elizabethan age and founders of our maritime supremacy. the colours of the cornwall light infantry hang here, which were carried at waterloo and in the indian mutiny. the chantry of the holy ghost in the south-west corner of this transept is a norman structure. it has a font which was first used at the baptism of henrietta, daughter of charles i., who was born in exeter in 1644. the chapel of st. john the baptist, on the east side, is similar to that of st. paul in the north transept. bishop oldham, whose chantry is in the south choir aisle, erected the screen of this chapel. beyond the chapel of the holy ghost is the chapter-house. the cloisters were destroyed by the puritans. the chapter-house has been recently restored. notice the early english character of the arcade (thirteenth century) in the lower part; the upper part has perpendicular niches. the chapter library has about 8000 volumes. retracing our steps we approach the choir, entered by a door in the beautiful screen supporting the organ. this was the old rood-screen, on which formerly stood the rood or figure of our lord on the cross. it was erected in the fourteenth century. the rose and thistle in the carvings were inserted later, in the time of james i., to mark the union of england and scotland under one monarch, but these have happily been removed, and probably the worthless paintings belong to the same period. the organ was built by loosemore in 1665 (one of the oldest in england), rebuilt in 1819, and has been so much renovated that very little of the old work remains. the choir is remarkably fine. the style is now decorated. the original norman choir extended to the third arch. bishop marshall completed this by adding four more bays. then came the builders of the early fourteenth century who transformed the norman pillars and other details, and converted the choir into decorated work. the bishops who accomplished all this were de bytton (1292-1306) and walter de stapledon (1306-1329) and bishop grandisson (1327-1369). the last dedicated the high altar in 1328. the bosses of the vaulted roof are worthy of especial examination, so remarkable are they for the delicacy of the carved foliage. the choir has been carefully restored in recent years, and the stalls, pulpit and reredos are modern, and were designed by sir gilbert scott. notice the interesting old misereres, which are very remarkable, and probably the oldest and most curious in england. the foliage denotes the early english period, and they were probably designed by bishop bruere (1224-1244). notice the mermaid and merman on the south side, the elephant, knight slaying a leopard, a minstrel, etc. the lofty bishop's throne was erected by stapledon, and is said to have been taken down and hidden away during the civil war period. the painted figures represent the four great building bishops--warelwast, quivil, stapledon and grandisson. the sedilia by stapledon are very fine. notice the carved lions' heads, and the heads of leofric, edward the confessor and his wife editha. the east window is early perpendicular, inserted by bishop brantyngham in 1390, and contains much old glass. the tombs in the choir are:-_on north side_- bishop stapledon (holding a crozier and a book). bishop marshall (d. 1206). bishop lacey (d. 1455), to which tomb pilgrimages used to be made on account of the reported miracles wrought there. bishop bradbridge (d. 1578). _on south side_- bishop chichester (d. 1155). bishop wolton (1594). entering the north choir aisle we see the chapel of st. andrew, renovated by stapledon, having an upper chamber containing the archives, the fabric rolls, mss. of roger bacon, leofric's book of saxon poetry, and many other valuable treasures. next in order we see the chantry of st. george, or speke's chantry (perpendicular style), containing the monument of sir john speke, who endowed this chantry for the good of his soul. when the cathedral was divided into two portions in the days of the puritans, a doorway was made through the east window as an entrance to "east peter's." at the east end of this aisle is the chapel of st. mary magdalene, erected originally by bronescombe, transformed by quivil, but has perpendicular screen. the east window has good fifteenth-century glass. notice the noble monuments of sir gawain carew (1589, restored in 1857), his wife and nephew, sir peter carew (_see_ p. 172). the latter is remarkable as a very late example of cross-legged effigy. the monuments in this north choir are--a cross-legged effigy of sir richard de stapledon, brother of the bishop (d. 1330). [it need not be stated that this fashion of crossing the legs has nothing to do with the crusades]; effigy of bishop carey (d. 1626); a tablet to robert hall, son of the bishop; tablet to canon rogers (d. 1856); an emaciated sepulchral figure; elizabethan tomb of anthony harvey (1564), who gained great wealth from the dissolution of monasteries. passing behind the high altar we come to the ambulatory, or "procession path." the style is early decorated. notice the ancient bible-boxes and the two jacobean tablets. the windows contain good modern glass. the lady chapel was entirely transformed by bishop quivil (1280-1291) into the decorated style. the bosses in the east bay show the saviour's head and the emblems of the evangelists. the reredos was erected by grandisson, but only the central portion is ancient, the rest has been severely "restored." this chapel contains the tombs of:- 1. bishop peter quivil (d. 1291), a slab with the inscription--_petra tegit petrum nihil officiat sibi tetrum_. 2. bishop bartholomaus iscanus (d. 1184), a bearded figure, of military type. 3. bishop simon of apulia (d. 1223). this effigy, when compared with the last, shows the advance of art made in a century. 4. bishop bronescombe (d. 1280). the canopy is older than the monument, and is perpendicular. 5. bishop stafford (d. 1419). a fine monument, much defaced. 6. sir john and lady doddridge. sir john (d. 1628) was one of the judges of james i., called by fuller the "sleepy judge, because he would sit on the bench with his eyes shut to sequester his sight from distracting objects." the dress of lady doddridge is remarkable. in the south choir aisle we see first the chapel of st. gabriel, similar to that of st. mary magdalene on the north. this was built by bishop bronescombe, whose patron saint was st. gabriel. the colouring of the roof has been carefully restored. some early glass is in the windows. then we enter bishop oldham's chantry, or the chapel of st. saviour. this bishop died in 1519. his chantry resembles the speke chantry in the opposite aisle. notice the effigy of the bishop, with the owls in the panels, referring to the first syllable of his name, "old," or "owld." the bishop was a lancashire man, and in that county _old_ is usually pronounced _owld_. the third chapel in the south choir aisle is that of st. james, built by bishop marshall, and renovated by bishop bronescombe in very early decorated style. it contains a beautiful monument, raised in the fifteenth century to the memory of leofric, first bishop of exeter. there are two cross-legged effigies in this aisle, which are usually said to represent crusaders. with this chapel our tour of the cathedral closes. of some of the great men who have been bishops of exeter we have already spoken. the names warelwast, marshall, bronescombe, quivil, stapledon, grandisson, have often been mentioned, and of others whose tombs still adorn their mighty resting-place. others there are whose memory remains. miles coverdale, the well-known reformer; joseph hall, the famous theologian; john gauden, the supposed author of the _eikon basilike_ (though modern scholars have come round to the belief that the book was really written by charles i.); the learned seth ward; trelawny, one of the seven bishops committed to the tower by james ii.; phillpots and temple, have all added lustre to the see of exeter. * * * * * the city of exeter is full of interest. the old guild hall and scanty remains of rougemont castle should be visited, and fifteen miles away is the noble collegiate church of ottery st. mary, which well repays a minute examination. in construction it somewhat resembles the cathedral of exeter, and the main part of the building belongs to the fourteenth century. dimensions total length, 383 ft.; length of nave, 140 ft.; breadth of nave, 72 ft.; height of nave, 66 ft.; area, 29,000 sq. ft. principal building dates 1107-1200--part of towers in transept and core of walls of nave; 1224-1244--stalls; 1258-1291--lady chapel and transepts; 1308-1369--choir, nave, porches and west front; 1390-1519--east window, part of chapter-house, oldham's chantry, speke's chantry. truro cathedral truro is one of the oldest towns in england. the courts of the duchy of cornwall are held here, and it once enjoyed the privilege of a mint. in the time of elizabeth it had jurisdiction over the port of falmouth. norden, in his survey of england, in 1574, wrote of truro:--"there is not a towne in the west part of the shire more commendable for neatness of buyldinges, nor discommendable for the pride of the people." it showed its loyalty by furnishing a large body of soldiers for the king in 1642, commanded by sir ralph hopton. in 1876 the see of truro was formed, and a new cathedral was built, mr. pearson being the architect. it is one of the most important modern ecclesiastical buildings in england, and is a fine imitation of the early english style at its best period. the south wall of the old church of st. mary, which formerly stood on this site, has been incorporated in the new cathedral. the newness of this cathedral and the entire absence of any historical traditions and associations will perhaps hardly tempt travellers to journey so far west to see the creation of modern architects and builders. the whole plan of the cathedral has not yet been completely carried out, and the church still lacks its towers. whether our modern architects can build so surely and so well as our ancient monks and priors time will show; but reports speak none too well of the substantial nature of all that has been done at truro. gloucester cathedral gloucester is a very venerable city. it was a roman station, and was known as glevum. remains of the old roman wall of the city exist in various places, under the house, 36 westgate street, under a furniture shop (messrs. lea) in northgate street, at "symond's arms," in hare lane. roman pavements and pottery, coins and altars have also been found, and the four straight streets crossing in the centre are the modern forms of the old roman roads which intersected the city, forming _insulæ_, as the sections were called. it was an important place in saxon times, and bede called it one of the noblest cities in the land. the first monastery was founded by osric in 681 for monks and nuns. of the history of this we shall treat presently. the danes, of course, ravaged and burnt the city. saxon and norman kings loved the fair city of the west. we seem to see a procession of monarchs who held their courts here--alfred, athelstan, edgar, hardicanute, edward the confessor, and then the stark conqueror, who here ordered the compilation of that important survey, the _domesday book_. "in the reign of rufus," wrote a great historian, "everything that happened at all somehow contrived to happen at gloucester." here anselm was consecrated archbishop of canterbury. it is famous for lampreys, for which henry i., when feasting here, acquired a liking, which unhappily proved fatal to him, as he died of a surfeit of them. here henry ii. held a great council, and henry iii. was crowned, "who loved gloucester better than london." the statutes of gloucester were passed here in an edwardian parliament, and the murdered king, edward ii., found here his last resting-place. numerous parliaments were held here, and monarchs visited the city. in the civil war period gloucester was held by the parliamentarians, and subjected to a protracted siege, which was eventually raised by the advent of earl of essex. the city retains many of its old houses. the house of robert raikes, the founder of sunday schools, is a fine old building. the deanery, formerly the prior's lodging, has many interesting associations. here henry viii. and anne boleyn sojourned. the inns are famous, especially "new inn," which was used by the pilgrims to the shrine of edward ii., and "the old raven." colonel massey, the governor during the siege, sojourned at 154 westgate street. before the dissolution of monasteries there were many religious houses, and the friars were numerous; there were colleges of grey, white and black friars, some remains of which still exist. there are several interesting churches--st. mary de crypt, a cruciform building of twelfth century, with some decorated and perpendicular work; st. mary de lode, built on the site of a roman temple, with an old chancel and tower; st. michael, from the tower of which the curfew sounds each night; st. nicholas, of norman construction. [illustration the deanery herbert railton] history of the cathedral gloucester was one of the sees founded by henry viii.; its episcopal life, therefore, does not extend further back than 1541, when the last abbot of tewkesbury became the first bishop of gloucester. the story of the minster, however, carries us back to very early times. the first abbey, as we have said, was founded by osric, nephew of king ethelred, in 689, and was designed for both monks and nuns. it was not long-lived, and in a century was deserted and fell into decay. the mercian kingdom was much distracted, and confusion reigned until beornwulph restored the ruined walls of st. peter's abbey, and introduced secular canons, who seem to have lived as they pleased, and loved not discipline. so canute in 1022 turned them out and established benedictine monks. these did no better. their abbot, eadric, was a waster of the goods of the abbey, and the pious chronicler saw in the destruction of the monastery by fire the vengeance of god for their sins. then bishop ealdred of worcester, who brought back the black monks of st. benedict, began to build a new church. then came abbot wulfstan from the worcester monastery in 1072, and abbot serlo, a worthy monk of mont st. michel, who found desolation, an almost empty monastery, a poor, mean building, and began to raise that glorious pile which we see now. it was dedicated in 1100, when there was a mighty concourse of bishops and great men. a remarkable sermon was preached here by abbot fulcher of shrewsbury, prophetic of the death of the cruel king, rufus. abbot serlo sent to warn him, but in vain, and soon the news of his death in the new forest rang throughout the country. fire frequently played havoc with the minster. in 1102 it suffered much, and again in 1122, when "in lent-tide the town was burnt while the monks were singing their mass, and the deacon had begun the gospel _præteriens jesus_," and the fire came in the upper part of the steeple, and burnt all the monastery and the treasures except a few books and three mass robes. again in 1179 and 1190 fires raged. the early english builders set to work to repair the damage, and the church was re-dedicated by walter de cantilupe, bishop of worcester, in 1239. the monks were now very busy building, and in 1242 they had finished the stone vaulting of the nave, which replaced the old norman wood vault; in 1246 the south-west tower was completed, and they had begun to rear for themselves a new refectory. yet another fire in 1300 wrought havoc in the cloisters, and deprived the monks of their dormitory. abbot thokey was a noble prelate who did much building, erected some of the beautiful decorated windows in the aisles and choir triforium, and was the means of enriching his abbey "beyond the dreams of avarice." when edward ii. lay dead, foully murdered at berkeley castle, unlike the time-serving abbot of bristol, who feared the anger of queen isabella and her party, he boldly demanded the body of the dead king and gave it honoured burial in his minster. then arose that strange cult, the worship at the dead king's shrine. thousands came from far and near, and their offerings so enriched the monastic treasury that the monks were able to adorn and beautify their church and monastery, and make it one of the glories of english architectural achievement. the fearless abbot felt himself too old to carry on the work; so he resigned in favour of his friend, abbot wygmore (1331-1337), who began to erect that "veil of stone" which covers the old norman work, and is such a characteristic feature of gloucester. the south transept was the first recased, a noble screen erected, and the work was carried on by succeeding abbots. abbot de stanton (1337-1351) constructed the vaulting of the choir and the stalls on the prior's side, which abbot horton completed on the abbot's side, together with the altar and choir and north transept, and also began the great cloister, which abbot froucester finished. the west front, south porch and two western bays of the nave are abbot morwent's work (1420-1437). the tower was built by abbot seabrooke (1450-1457), and abbots hanley (1457-1472) and farley (1472-1498) built the lady chapel. [illustration cathedral from s e herbert railton gloucester] at length the day of dissolution came. abbot malvern, the last abbot, was offered the bishopric which henry viii. had just founded; but he declined, and died of a broken heart. the continued progress of adornment was checked by the appropriation of much of the wealth of the monastery by the king, and the building began to fall into decay. it did not suffer much during the civil war, in spite of the long siege. the lady chapel was mutilated and defaced, and some other damage done, but the burghers seem to have acted well, took a pride in their church, and suffered it not to be destroyed. there have since been frequent "restorations," and some damage done by destructive architects; but, on the whole, gloucester has escaped with less scars than many of our cathedrals, and retains much of its original beauty and delicate attractiveness. the exterior the plan is cruciform, and consists of a nave with two aisles; north and south transepts, with apsidal chapels on the east side of each; a tower rises at the crossing. the eastern portion consists of choir with aisles, forming a processional path, with four apsidal chapels opening from them, and a lady chapel. with the exception of the lady chapel this plan is exactly the same as that of the original norman church built by abbot serlo. we approach the cathedral from the south-east and obtain a good view of its beauties across the close. the _west front_, built by abbot morwent (1420-1437), is not very rich or striking when compared with many others. there is a large perpendicular window, and another on each side, and a rather small doorway. the flanking buttresses are crowned with pinnacles, and a cross crowns the centre of the embattled parapet. the pierced buttresses, designed so as not to darken the west window, and the parapets of open-work below and above, are distinguishing features. the south aisle is abbot thokey's work, and is very beautiful with its fine decorated work. the buttresses are very massive, and are surmounted by figures, and the windows deeply recessed. the _south porch_ is rich perpendicular work, built by abbot morwent. the figures are modern, and represent ss. peter and paul, and the four evangelists, osric and abbot serlo, the founders of the earlier and norman church--ss. jerome, ambrose, augustine and gregory--against whose figures the fanatics of bristol manifested such unreasonable hate. there is an upper chamber or parvise. the doors are contemporary with the building. the _south transept_ shows the remodelling of the perpendicular period. norman work may be seen in the arcading, the turrets, and traces of an original window; while the capping of the turrets, the windows and battlement belong to the perpendicular style. passing on to the east we notice the beautiful lofty choir. the main part of the walls are norman, and we notice the unusual polygonal radiating chapels, which are part of the original norman plan. the windows are decorated and perpendicular, inserted in norman openings. the great east window is the largest and finest in england. the _lady chapel_ was originally early english work, built in 1225, but it was rebuilt in 1457-1499, during the rule of abbots hanley and farley. it has four bays, each bay being filled with a lofty perpendicular window. there is a passage beneath the chapel, which was necessary in order to reach the northern side. the chapel is one of the most beautiful in england. the central _tower_ is remarkable for its grace and grandeur. the present one is the work of abbot seabrooke (1450-1457), and belongs to the perpendicular period. the bells are ancient, and happily were saved, when the monastery was dissolved, from the greedy hands of the commissioners of henry viii. the monastic buildings are on the north side, which we shall examine later. there is a fine view of the cathedral from the north-west. on the north-west is the deanery, formerly the prior's lodging, a very interesting house; and between it and the north aisle is a passage, the old norman slype communicating between the cloisters and the close. the interior [illustration nave pillars from the west] entering by the south porch we note its norman character. the old norman wooden roof has been replaced by a stone vault, and decorated windows of the time of the second edward have been inserted, but otherwise there has been little change. the west end, with two bays of the nave, is abbot morwent's work (1420-1437). he destroyed two western towers or turrets, which were built in 1222-1243 in place of two similar norman structures. the height of the norman piers is unusual, leaving a small space for the triforium and clerestory. the zigzag and double cable moulding appear on the main arches. abbot serlo was the builder of the original nave. the stone vault was erected by the monks in the thirteenth century (1242), when the clerestory was altered in the early english style by abbot foliot (1228-1243). morwent inserted perpendicular tracery in these windows. the remains of coloured decoration were discovered during the restoration. we have mentioned the numerous fires which wrought havoc here. traces of the fire may still be seen in the reddened surface of the piers. the contrast between the norman piers and the perpendicular piers at the west end is noticeable, also the disappearance of the triforium in the last bay and the lierne vault. the west window contains some modern glass inserted in memory of bishop monk (1856). there is a curious series of grotesque heads on the arches of the nave showing the mummeries of gleemen. the story of the _north aisle_ is similar to that of the nave. we have the same norman work and the perpendicular western bays of abbot morwent. perpendicular tracery fills the norman windows which have zigzag mouldings, and the vault is norman. the monks' entrance to the cloisters is at the west end of the north wall, and is richly ornamented in perpendicular style. another perpendicular doorway, called the abbot's door, is at the east end of the wall. the history of the mythical king lucius is the subject of the west window. there are memorials of bishop warburton (1779), the friend of pope, a learned divine; flaxman's monument of sarah morley and thomas machen (1614). the _south aisle_ retains some of its norman style, but was remodelled by abbot thokey (1306-1329) in the decorated style. the ball-flower ornament is much used on the windows. the vault is decorated work erected by thokey, and the windows have been more effectually transformed than in the north aisle. there are monuments to john jones, m.p. for gloucester at the time of the gunpowder plot, with his deeds and documents; sir g.o. paul (1820), a prison reformer; dr. jenner, the discoverer of vaccination. the chantry of abbot seabrooke (1457), the builder of the tower, is at the east of this aisle, much mutilated. the chantry has been restored. the effigy is a good study of ecclesiastical dress of the period. near at hand are the effigies of a knight and his lady, supposed at one time to represent one of the bohun earls of hereford, but they are now declared to be members of the brydges family, perhaps sir john brydges, who fought at agincourt, more probably a descendant of his. we notice the ss. on the collar, and the study of the armour shows that at that time chain armour was being supplanted by plate armour. on north side of entrance to transept we see a canopied bracket with remains of blue colouring. entering the _south transept_ we see the first part of the cathedral which was recased, and may be said with truth to be the birthplace of the perpendicular style. this example is quite the earliest which can be traced, and was finished in 1337 when the treasury of the abbey was being filled by the offerings of pilgrims at the shrine of edward ii. this part of the church has therefore peculiar interest. the designer was abbot wygmore (1329-1337). all the walls are covered with the panel work, which is the "sign-manual" of the perpendicular style. the clustered shafts form very beautiful groups. on the south is a large perpendicular window, and below it a passage behind an open arcade. two doorways should be noticed, one called the _confessional_, with figures on each side said to represent angels, and the other, now blocked up, with a grotesque monster over it. the angel-guarded door is sometimes called the pilgrims' door, by which they entered to worship at the shrine of king edward. another story is that penitents entered beneath the monster emblematical of sin, and returned by the other door protected by the guardianship of angels. the curious _prentice's bracket_, said to be the memorial of a master-builder and his 'prentice, was probably intended as bracket for a lamp. the roof is a lierne vault without bosses. the flying arches or buttresses which support the tower are very graceful. the effigies of alderman blackleech and his wife (1639) are remarkable as studies of the costume of the period. other monuments are to the memory of richard pates (1588) and canon evan evans (1891). the _chapel of st. andrew_ is on the east side, adorned with paintings by gambier parry. above this is the east window, which has some beautiful old glass contemporary with the remodelling of the building. on the north is the curious chantry of abbot john browne (1510-1514), dedicated to st. john baptist because of the similarity of the initials. the floor has some interesting tiles and the reredos has been painted. [illustration the choir, looking east] in the _north transept_ we see the further development of the perpendicular style in the recasing by abbot horton (1351-1377). here is the remarkably interesting _reliquary_, of early decorated work, said by some to be a lavatory. the carved foliage is very beautiful and also the figures, though mutilated. a chapel is at the east side of this transept, similar to that in the south transept, dedicated to st. paul. a door opens to the north choir aisle. at the entrance from the transept there is a curious desk which was used by a monk appointed to check the pilgrims as they went to the shrine of edward. the chapel was repaired in 1870, and the niches supplied with figures of ss. peter, paul and luke. a good perpendicular doorway is on the north side, with carved angels in the moulding. the _chapel of st. anthony_ is on the south of this transept, now used as a vestry. there is a curious painting here of st. anthony rescuing a female from the mouth of hell. the transept has a monument of john bower (1615), which bears the words: "vayne, vanytie. all is vayne. witnesse solomon." the _screen_ supporting the organ was erected in 1823 and replaced an earlier one. the story of the screens is a long one which mr. st. john hope has told so well that we need not repeat it. it appears there were two screens, one called the _pulpitum_ and the other a stone screen supporting the rood-loft. but these have disappeared, and we have instead an early nineteenth-century structure which need not be described. the original organ was built at the time of the restoration, and some of the pipes bear the monogram of the merry monarch. the _choir_ is remarkable for its extreme beauty. from the lofty traceried roof down to the elaborately-tiled floor the walls are covered with richly-carved panelled work, broken here and there with delicate screens of stone. behind this veiled work of stone stand the old norman walls and piers. this casing was done by abbots staunton (1337-1351) and horton (1351-1377). the lierne vault is one of the finest in england, with its multitudinous ribs, and ranks with king's college chapel, cambridge, and westminster. the vaults of the tower and choir both belong to the same period. the _stalls_ were erected by the builders of the choir and have fine canopies. the _misereres_ are curious and well carved. some of them represent hunting scenes, st. george slaying a giant, etc. before us is the grand _east window_, the finest in christendom. its date is 1345-1350, and is part of abbot horton's work. the coronation of the virgin is the subject, and the figures consist of angels, apostles, saints, kings and abbots. the arms of edward iii., the black prince, and the lords of berkeley, arundel, warwick, talbot and others appear, who took part in the campaign against france when creçy was fought. it is thought by some that the window is a memorial of that famous victory. the clerestory windows retain some of their old glass, which is of the same date as that of the east window, but has been restored. the _reredos_ is modern, designed by sir g. scott. the birth, burial and ascension of our lord are represented. the floor of the presbytery is paved with some remarkable old _tiles_, which record the names of some of the abbots, the arms of knights, and other interesting devices. the sedilia are adorned with modern sculptured figures, and the restoration has been accomplished with much care and taste. there are five principal historic _monuments_ in the choir. near the altar is the canopied tomb of osric, the founder of the first abbey, said to have been erected by abbot parker (1515-1539). guided by the description of the tomb told by leland, dean spence opened the cenotaph and found the grey dust and bones of this ancient benefactor. near at hand is the beautiful _tomb of king edward ii._, murdered at berkeley castle. it was erected by edward iii. the effigy is of alabaster, and the features are thought to have been reproduced from a waxen mask taken after death. the tomb is a forest of pinnacles and rich tabernacle work. it has been much restored at various times, but the extreme beauty of the work has in no way been impaired. the white hart, chained and collared, the badge of richard ii., is painted on the pillars. the chantry of abbot parker, or malverne (1515-1539), has a much mutilated effigy of this, the last abbot of gloucester. vine leaves and grapes adorn the screen, and the base has some heraldic devices and the emblems of the passion. on the south side is a projecting bracket which leland tells us marks the grave of abbot serlo, the founder of the norman church. the bracket is perpendicular, the effigy early english, both much mutilated. the figure has a model of a church in his hand, and therefore denotes that the abbot was a founder, but the early english character of the effigy points to it representing a later abbot than serlo, and possibly abbot foliot (1243). the _north choir aisle_, or ambulatory, is original norman, the windows being filled with perpendicular tracery. at the north-east corner is abbot boteler's chantry (1433-1450). the old tiles are interesting, amongst which we see some representing the arms of the boteler or butler family (three cups). the decoration of the chapel is all perpendicular work, screens, windows and reredos. this last is very fine, and has some well-carved figures of the apostles. here is the effigy of robert, duke of normandy, eldest son of william i., whose wild youth was atoned for by his prowess in the crusades. he, however, had to endure twenty years' imprisonment, inflicted by his father. the effigy was probably made not long after his death. the chest on which it rests is fifteenth-century work. the effigy was hacked to pieces by cromwell's soldiers, but the fragments were put together by sir humphrey tracy, and replaced in the cathedral. [illustration the lady chapel] the _ante-chapel_, or vestibule, leading to the lady chapel, is the meeting-place of the old and new work, and is ingeniously contrived. the norman apse is pierced by a doorway and two perpendicular windows. it is separated from the lady chapel by an open-work screen, which is very beautiful, and has a fine lierne vault. this, and the _lady chapel_, are the work of abbots hanley and farley, who presided over the abbey during the last half of the fifteenth century. the lady chapel ranks with ely as the largest in england, and certainly it is a triumph of perpendicular architecture. it has lofty perpendicular windows, which seem to produce the effect of a wall of glass with panelled tracery. the head of each panel is much ornamented, and panel work, with niches, covers the walls. the lierne vault is very fine, and the bosses carved with beautiful foliage. at one time the walls were painted, and traces of colour remain. the east window has much old glass, which is also visible in the heads of the other windows. there is a very poor modern reredos, which might be removed without much regret, as it hides a very interesting, though much mutilated, mass of rich tabernacle work. the altar rails belong to the time of laud, who was dean here, and are said to be the first introduced into churches. many of the original tiles remain, and bear inscriptions: _ave maria grâ plê, dñe jhû miserere_. there are two side chapels, with fan-tracery vaulting. in the north chapel is the monument of bishop goldsbrough (1604). there is an upper chapel, or oratory, and the same arrangement obtains on the south side. this chapel has a monument of th. fitz-williams (1579). the marks on the walls of these upper oratories show that the love of recording names by visitors in historic places is not confined to modern times, and dates as far back as the sixteenth century. returning to the entrance, we follow the ambulatory to the south, which retains its northern features. _st. philip's chapel_ is at the south-east corner, and has been restored in memory of sir c. codrington, bart. (1864). there are norman arches, and fourteenth century tracery inserted in the windows. the spacious chests for copes are interesting records of the rich ecclesiastical vestments in use in former times. the _triforium_ is unusually fine, and now extends over the north and south choir aisles, but not over the east end. that part was removed when the choir was reconstructed, and in order to connect the severed portions of the triforium together, the whispering gallery was constructed. this part of the church retains its norman features, and is full of interest. the first chapel on the south has decorated windows, with ball-flower ornament. there is a double piscina. a very ancient painting of a doom or last judgment, discovered in 1718, is a very remarkable example of early art. it was probably painted towards the end of the reign of henry viii. the view of the choir is very beautiful, and the way in which the later builders cased the norman work with a veil of stone can best be observed from the triforium. the next chapel (south-east) is norman, with later windows inserted. there are some fragments of an old choir-screen stored here. the _whispering gallery_ is built out at the back of the great east window, and in its construction old norman stone-work has been re-used. it happens to possess the curious acoustic property of the famous gallery of st. paul's, london. the next chapel is over the ante-chapel of the choir, and has a stone altar, with the usual five crosses carved on it. the north-east chapel has a decorated window, and the north-west a double piscina of the same period. we will now descend to the _crypt_ (entrance in south-east transept), which is very early norman, founded before 1085. the walls and piers are very strong and massive, the former being 10 feet thick. there is a central apse, an ambulatory, out of which radiate five chapels. the half columns in the ambulatory have been strengthened and recased in later norman times. the chapels have little of interest except their own intrinsic architectural merits. there are some good piscinæ, and some memorial slabs. [illustration carrel in south cloister] the _monastic buildings_ are some of the finest in england, especially the cloisters, which are remarkable for their excellent preservation and for the beauty of the fan-traceried vault. it is thought that this kind of vaulting, peculiar to this country, originated here. the outer walls are norman, and have been recased with perpendicular panelling. this work was begun by abbot horton (1351-1377), and finished by his successors, abbot boyfield (1377-1381) and abbot froucester (1381-1412). the south walk possesses a very interesting feature in the _carrels_ or studies of the monks. the glass of the windows is modern. the passage or slype, of norman date, at the west end, was the main entrance to the cloister from the outer court. at the north end was the door to the refectory. a window has been placed there instead, but mr. hope points out "the iron hooks on which the doors were hung." little of the refectory, which was on the north of the garth, remains, except the south wall, preserved by the cloister, and part of the east end. the action of the fire of 1540, which destroyed this noble hall, is observed on the walls. in the north walk are the monks' lavatories, the most perfect in england; opposite is the _manutergia_, or recess for towels. this walk was reserved for novices, and mr. hope shows us the tables for games which they played scratched on the stone bench, the "nine men's morris" and "fox and geese" being their favourite pastimes. the east walk gives entrance to the chapter-house. the doorway is norman, with zigzag ornament. the chapter-house is norman, with a perpendicular east end. at the west end is a norman doorway and an unglazed window (the corresponding one being covered up when the south-east staircase was added), and three norman windows. traces of fire may be seen here. the seats of the monks under the arcading may be traced. the vault of the perpendicular part is finely groined, and there is a large perpendicular window at the east end. the names of several illustrious leaders under william i. appear on the walls. the _locutorium_, or monks' parlour, lies between the chapter-house and the north transept of the church. this passage is often erroneously called the "abbot's cloister." here the monks met to converse when talking was prohibited in the cloister. above is the vestry and library. the latter is a long room, of perpendicular character. the library at gloucester has had many migrations and vicissitudes; the books of the old monastic library were dispersed. a new collection was begun in 1624 by bishop goodman. the books have been stored in the chapter-house, and elsewhere, and have now found a permanent resting-place. its principal treasure is abbot froucester's _lives of the abbots of gloucester to 1381_. this copy was lost at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and discovered again at berlin, and restored to the library. the dormitory has been destroyed. it probably stood on the north of the chapter-house. the remains of the infirmary and little cloisters are on the north of the cloister. the cathedral close was surrounded by a wall. some of the gateways remain. st. mary's gate, on the west, is a fine thirteenth-century structure; the inner gate, of fourteenth-century work, leading to miller's green, the site of the old abbey mill and outhouses; the south, or king edward's gate, built by edward i., of which only fragments remain; and the westgate street gate. the deanery, as we have said, has many interesting features, and remains of the work of eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. the bishop's palace is modern, built on the site of the abbot's house, erected in the early part of the fourteenth century. previous to that period the abbot lived at the present deanery. dimensions nave, length 174 ft. nave, width 34 ft. nave, height 68 ft. transepts, length 46 ft. transepts, width 34 ft. choir, length 140 ft. choir, width 33 ft. lady chapel, length 90 ft. lady chapel, width 25 ft. tower, height 225 ft. total length 407 ft. area 30,600 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1089-1100)--piers, arches, triforium of the nave, walls and vault of north aisle and pilasters of south aisle, walls of choir and presbytery, chapels and ambulatory, north transept, west end of chapter-house and abbot's cloister. early english (1242)--vault of nave. decorated (1307-1329)--windows and vault of south aisle, south transept, windows of ambulatory and chapels. perpendicular (1337-1500)--windows of nave and north aisle, casing north transept, choir and presbytery, lady chapel, cloisters, tower, west end, south porch, and east end of chapter-house. [illustration plan of gloucester cathedral] hereford cathedral the story of the see of hereford takes us back to very early times, to the days of the british, and shows the connection and identity of the church of england of the twentieth century with that which existed even prior to the landing of augustine. the see was in existence in the sixth century, and was subject to the archbishop of caerleon. legends tell us of dubricius, who crowned king arthur at cirencester. one bishop of hereford represented the old british bishops at the famous conference with augustine, when, by his want of tact and haughty demeanour, the roman missionary alienated the native british church. a very tragic event enhanced the glories of the see. king offa slew ethelbert, king of the east angles, who was a suitor for his daughter's hand, and buried him at hereford. on the night of the funeral, "a column of light, brighter than the sun, arose towards heaven," according to the monkish chronicler, and miracles were wrought at the tomb of the martyred monarch. this distressed offa, who tried to expiate his crime by erecting a noble monument, founding the monastery at st. alban's, and devoting costly gifts to the church of hereford. one mildred, offa's viceroy, built "an admirable stone church," dedicated to the martyr ethelbert. this was rebuilt by bishop ethelstan in 1012. then followed sad times when the welsh tribes invaded the land and destroyed the city and church by fire. when the normans came bishop de losinga (1079-1095) began to rebuild the ruined church, and the work was continued by his successor, raynhelm (1107-1115). during the troubles of stephen's reign hereford suffered much. the cathedral was deserted and desecrated, and bishop robert de bethune, a worthy prelate, was forced to seek safety in flight. stephen entered the castle of hereford with great pomp, and occupied during service the episcopal chair, which still remains. on his return he cleansed and repaired the building. then we see gilbert foliot, bishop of hereford, the stern opponent of becket, who preached the sermon at canterbury, when henry ii. did penance for the murder of the archbishop. bishop william de vere (1189-1199) is said to have built much, removed the apsidal terminations at the east end, and made other alterations. his work was continued by the erection of the early english lady chapel. probably he built the palace. bishop giles de bruce (1200-1215) took part with the barons against king john, and was a very warlike prelate, who allied himself with prince llewellyn, and destroyed the castle of earl mortimer, an adherent of the king. he was driven from his see, but afterwards made peace with john, and died at gloucester when he was returning to his see. writers commonly assign to him the building of the tower, on the ground that his effigy has a model of the church in its hand. but this effigy was erected long after his death, and cannot be taken as any evidence of the truth of the statement. the profusion of ball-flower ornament certainly points out that the tower belongs to the fourteenth and not to the thirteenth century. peter d'acquablanca in savoy (1240-1268) was one of the foreign favourites of henry iii., who fought in the crusades. he was a simoniacal prelate who tried to gain the see of bordeaux, and was much ridiculed when, after paying the money, the archbishop of bordeaux was found to be alive. he was expelled from england, but returned, and then went off to ireland to collect tithes. unfortunately king henry visited hereford during his absence, and found that no clergy were there, and the church in ruin and decay. he therefore wrote a strongly-worded remonstrance to the absent bishop, who returned in time to be seized by simon de montfort and put into prison, while his hoards of wealth were divided amongst his captors. he died soon after this. his tomb remains, but his heart is buried in savoy, his native land. he is said to have rebuilt the north transept. thomas de cantilupe (1275-1282) was a noted bishop, who attained to the honour of canonisation, and was, moreover, chancellor of england. he was by no means a meek-spirited saint, excommunicated an earl for capturing his game, and made another lord walk barefoot to the altar of the cathedral, after chastising him for interfering with his tenants. on his death in italy his flesh was buried at florence, his heart at ashridge, bucks, and his bones at hereford. various miracles were said to have been wrought at his tomb. his successor swinfield (1283-1317), built, or began, the eastern transept, the clerestory of the choir, the central tower above the roof, and probably the nave aisles. adam de orleton (1316-1327) espoused the cause of the queen against edward ii., and involved hereford in the troubles of that disastrous time. he is said to have instigated the murder of the king; at any rate he captured the fugitive monarch, and hugh despenser, the king's favourite, was brought here and hanged. he obtained from the pope a grant of the tithes of two berkshire parishes, shinfield and swallowfield, for the repair of his cathedral. the fifteenth century saw several additions to the fabric, the cloisters in 1418-1448, the great west window by w. lochard, the precentor, some chantry chapels which we shall notice later, and the enlargement of the north porch. at the reformation an ardent reformer, edward fox, was appointed bishop, and hereford, like other cathedrals, was despoiled of its valuables and treasures. fox's successor, skip, was a liturgical scholar, and helped in compiling our liturgies. another learned prelate was francis godwin (1617-1633), the author of the lives of english bishops (_de præsulibus anglicæ_). at the civil war period hereford suffered the usual misfortunes. both bishop and people espoused the cause of the king. the city was taken and retaken without much damage being done, until lord leven with the scottish army besieged it in 1645, when the church suffered considerably; and when, by the treachery of the governor, colonel birch, the city was again taken, it was plundered and the cathedral ransacked. brasses were torn up, monuments defaced, old windows broken, the library pillaged, and when the dean courageously preached to the riotous soldiers on their sacrilege, they levelled their muskets at him, and were scarcely restrained from firing. injudicious "restorers" have worked their wicked will on the fabric; amongst these was bishop bisse (1713-1721) who spent much money, erected several monstrosities, which have happily been removed, and destroyed the half-ruined chapter-house in order to restore the palace. in 1786 the western tower fell, and carried with it the west front. then wyatt, of evil memory, was let loose on the cathedral. he made a new west front, shortened the nave, and took down the norman work in triforium and clerestory, substituting his own designing. plaster was used unsparingly. the old spire was removed, the roofs lowered, and much other vandalism perpetrated. from 1837 to 1863 continued restoration took place, and in spite of the havoc which has been wrought the church retains much of its ancient and interesting character, and is well worthy of accurate study. [illustration hereford cathedral from the wye] the exterior a good view is obtained from the close on the south side. on the banks of the wye is the palace and college of vicars choral; on the east was the old castle, one of the strongest on the welsh marches. the _west front_ is an erection of wyatt's, and need not be noticed. formerly there was a great tower here, which fell in 1786 and destroyed the old west front. the _central tower_ is very fine. the abundance of ball-flower ornament proclaims its decorated style. the date is about 1300. it has two stages. the pinnacles are modern. as we have said, a wooden spire which once capped it has been removed. on the west side there is a noble _porch_ of perpendicular style, built by bishop booth in 1530. there is a parvise in the second storey with perpendicular windows. this porch joins on to an inner one of the decorated period. octagonal turrets containing staircases stand at the angles. the iron-work of the doors is excellent modern work. the walls and windows of the aisles are late decorated, about 1360. the clerestory is wyatt's construction, who destroyed the original norman work. the _north transept_ is worthy of attention. the buttresses are very massive. it was built about 1285 for the reception of the shrine of bishop cantilupe. the windows are very lofty, of three lights under triangular-headed arches. the window on the north is similar, but double. on the east side there is an aisle, with triforium windows of three lancets, and above the clerestory windows are triangular. the lady chapel is fine early english work, and belongs to the first half of the thirteenth century. we notice especially the tall and graceful lancets and elegant arcades of interesting arches. the east end was rebuilt in 1850. on the south is the audley chapel. it is difficult to approach the south side, as walls and gardens prevent easy access. the _vicar's cloister_, connecting the cathedral with the college of the vicars choral (incorporated in 1396), is perpendicular work. the oak beams are finely carved. the quadrangle of the college is well worthy of notice. the _bishop's cloister_ is on the south of the nave. two walks remain, and the west walk is partially restored and contains the library. their style is perpendicular. the chapter-house was pulled down by bishop bisse; only the double doorway remains. we notice the grotesque heads over the windows, the richly-groined roof, and the lady's arbour, a small room in the tower at the south-east angle, which may possibly have obtained its name from the virgin, our lady. the chapels of ss. katherine and mary magdalene, of norman construction, formerly stood against south wall, and some remains are evident. the interior we enter the nave by the north porch, and proceeding to the west end we notice the grand norman piers and arches. wyatt's hand was heavily laid upon this structure, and the triforium, clerestory and vault are all his handiwork. moreover, he took away one bay entirely. the view eastward is very impressive. the arches are adorned with the billet and other norman mouldings, and are remarkable for their richness. the _font_ is curious and of late norman design. it has figures of the apostles, and at the base projecting lions. the aisles are late decorated, except the lower part of the walls, which is original norman. the chief monuments in the nave and aisle are, on the south:--sir richard pembridge (1375), who fought at poictiers. the effigy is a good study of the armour of the period. the right leg is a restoration. two unknown figures of ecclesiastics. on the north--bishop booth (1535), the builder of the porch; a fine tomb, protected by original iron-work. the _screen_ is a magnificent work, designed by sir g. scott. the lectern is modern. the _central tower_ has passed through many vicissitudes. the original norman piers being unable to support the heavy early english shaft, they were cased with new stone-work, and the norman arches were blocked up. in dean mereweather's time extensive restoration was found necessary. all the parts above the arches is fourteenth-century work. the vaulting has been removed, and the tower is now open to the belfry floor. the _north transept_ is particularly fine and remarkable, and is late early english or early decorated (1282-1287). it was built for the shrine of bishop cantilupe. the arches are sharply-pointed and unusual. on the west are two windows of two narrow lights under sharply-pointed arches, the tracery of the heads being in the form of three circles enclosing trefoils. on the north is a double window of the same character. on the east is an aisle with clerestory and triforium. dog-tooth ornament appears in the mouldings. the arches of the triforium are very beautiful, and the diaper of leaf-ornament in the spandrels is effective. the windows above are octofoils. [illustration the cantilupe shrine] this aisle contains the remains of the cantilupe shrine, which was a source of much revenue to the church, derived from the pilgrims who flocked hither. the date of the tomb is 1287, and the details are worthy of study. it is made of purbeck marble. the lower part has fifteen figures of knights templar, of which order the bishop was provincial grand master. the details of the armour are very exact. curious monsters appear at the feet of the knights. the foliage is excellent early decorated, retaining some of early english features. other monuments are bishop westfayling (1602), john philips, author of _the splendid shilling_ (1708), bishop charlton (1329), bishop field (1639), dean d'acquablanca (1320), and brasses to dean frowcester (1529) and richard delamare and his wife (1435). near at hand is the beautiful monument of bishop d'acquablanca (1240-1268), the finest in the cathedral. (concerning the unenviable repute of this bishop, _see_ the history of the see). the tomb was originally elaborately coloured. _the south transept_ has much norman work. the east wall is entirely norman, and has five ranges of arcades. perpendicular windows have been inserted in south and west walls, and the lierne vaulting belongs to the same period. bishop trevenant (1389-1404) is said to have been responsible for this later work. the monuments in this transept are:--sir alexander denton and his wife (1566), an altar tomb with alabaster effigies. the latter died with her infant, who is represented as a "chrysome" child, i.e., one who dies within a month of its baptism, and wears its white baptismal robe. bishop trevenant, who was responsible for the perpendicular alterations, is buried here; his effigy has been much mutilated. masons' marks are observable, and the norman fireplace is said to be unique. the _choir_ is full of interest. the main arches and triforium are norman, the clerestory and vaulting early english (_circa_ 1250). the carving of the capitals exhibits foliage and grotesque heads, and the lozenge ornament appears round the arches. the headings of the pilasters between the piers are early english. the clerestory windows consist of one lofty pointed window and a small trefoiled one on each side. the reredos was designed by cottingham, the architect at the restoration in 1850, and represents the passion of christ. a curious effect is produced by the central pillar and arches in the retro-choir appearing through the arch at the east of the choir, and presenting a broad spandrel, on which are carved some modern figures of our lord and st. ethelbert. the stalls are good decorated work with rich canopies and some curious misereres, with carvings representing a pair of wrestlers with ropes round their necks, an irate cook throwing a dish at a troublesome guest, etc. some are modern. the _throne_ is also decorated, and there is the remarkable old chair already mentioned, on which stephen is said to have sat on the occasion of his visit here. the _organ_ has some parts of the instrument presented by charles ii. the monuments in the choir are those of-bishop trilleck (1360), an excellent brass; bishop stanbery (1474), whose chantry we shall see in the west choir aisle; bishop giles de bruce (1215), with model of church in his hand; bishop bennett (1617). we notice the small figure of st. ethelbert on a bracket on east pier on south side, of fourteenth century. in the _north choir aisle_ the wall has decorated arched recesses, which contain the effigies of bishop godfred de clive (1120) (executed in perpendicular period); bishop hugh de mapenore (1219); bishop richard de capella (1127). bishop stanbery's chantry (1453-1474) is entered from this aisle, and is late perpendicular. it is very richly ornamented with tracery and panelling and shields and has a groined roof. it is a good example of the over-elaborateness of late perpendicular work. the _north-east transept_ is early decorated, the original apsidal termination being altered in the latter part of the thirteenth century. traces of norman work are still evident. there is a central octagonal pier which supports the vaulting. there are monuments here of dean dawes (1867); bishop godwin? (1633) (the tomb is certainly earlier and cannot be his); and the altar tomb of bishop swinfield (1316), though the effigy upon it is not his. the ball-flower moulding is plentifully used. proceeding onwards we come to the _retro-choir_ or ambulatory, which is transitional norman. the chevron and diamond moulding on the ribs of the vaulting point to its late norman date. there was evidently an ambulatory and lady chapel in norman times, and the windows on each side of the vestibule show that formerly these walls were outside walls, and the windows were glazed. here is a monument of dean beaurieu (1462), which is of some interest on account of the accurate carving of the dress, and the rebus _boar_ and _rue_ leaves; and there are some late brasses. the _lady chapel_ is remarkably fine, being very rich early english. its story is difficult to read, as the architect cottingham redressed the old stone-work and made complications in 1840-1850. he rebuilt the east gable. five narrow lancets form the east window, and above are five quatrefoil openings. the glass was erected to the memory of dean mereweather, to whom the cathedral owes so much. the subject is the life of the virgin. the aumbrey and piscina are reproductions. on the north there is an interesting but somewhat conglomerate tomb. the effigy is supposed to be humphrey de bohun, earl of hereford, in the reign of edward iii., but the canopy is perpendicular, and the figures in the arches were discovered elsewhere and placed here, except the two mutilated central ones, our lord and the virgin. the others are ss. john baptist, cantilupe and thomas of canterbury. the countess of hereford, johanna de bohun (1327), lies here, a great benefactress, whose effigy and tomb are worthy of study. on the south is the _audley chantry_, erected by bishop audley (1492-1502), who constructed another chantry at salisbury, whither he was translated, and where he was buried. it has two storeys, and a curious and interesting screen separates it from the lady chapel. there are traces of considerable colour decoration. the chapel has five sides, with two windows in the lower and five in the upper storey. the central boss of the vaulting in the upper chamber or oratory has a figure of the virgin crowned. the window west of this chapel has some good fourteenth-century glass. beneath the choir is the crypt, of early english date, and is the only example of a crypt constructed later than the end of the eleventh century. it is called "golgotha," on account of its being used as a charnel-house. the _south-east transept_ is similar to its opposite. it has monuments of bishop charlton (1369); bishop coke (1646); bishop ironside, who died in london, 1701, and was buried in a city church, which was destroyed in 1863, and the body brought here. this was the bishop who, as vice-chancellor of oxford, resisted the action of james ii. in regard to the expulsion of the fellows of magdalen college. in the _south choir aisle_ are four perpendicular tombs under decorated arched recesses, supposed to represent bishop william de vere (1199); bishop hugh foliot (d. 1234); bishop robert de betun (1148); and bishop robert de melun (1167). there is a brass of dean frowsetown (1529), an effigy of bishop mayew (1516), who conducted catherine of arragon to england from spain; and an effigy of bishop de losinga (1096), erected in perpendicular period. the vestries are of norman construction; the vaulting is the only example of norman vaulting in the cathedral. here in this south choir aisle is preserved the famous _map of the world_, as known in 1300. it was designed by richard de haldingham, prebendary of hereford. this was generally supposed to be the most ancient of its size in the world; but another map has been discovered at ebstorp, near hanover, which is larger, more highly coloured, and about the same age. the library of corpus christi college, cambridge, has an earlier map of henry of mainz, and there is a small psalter map in the british museum. the world is shown to be round; at the top is paradise, with its rivers and trees, eve's transgression, etc. above is the last judgment with the virgin interceding for mankind. jerusalem is in the centre. rome proclaims itself the head of the world, and troy the most warlike city. the british isles have much space, and most of the cathedrals are mentioned. monstrous animals, birds and fish abound. the monkey appears to live in norway, the scorpion on the rhine. there is very much that is strange and curious to be seen in this wonderful map. _the library_ has a splendid collection of chained books. the building is modern, having been opened in 1897, and built on the site of the old west cloister. there is an ancient copy of the gospels at least 1000 years old, written in anglo-saxon characters, a beautiful twelfth-century ms., a copy of the "hereford use" of thirteenth century, wycliffe's bible (1420), "bangor use" (1400), with a curious charm for toothache inserted in the book, _decreta gratiani_, of twelfth century. there are many _incunabula_, nicholas de lyra's bible and commentary (1485), _polychronycon_, by r. higden, with additions by caxton (1495); caxton's _golden legend_, a very fine copy. here is an ancient _reliquary_, with representation of the martyrdom of st. thomas of canterbury, a pre-reformation chalice and paten, taken from the coffin of bishop swinfield (1316), and some episcopal rings. this collection of chained books is the finest in england. dimensions total length (exterior) 342 ft. length of nave to screen 158 ft. breadth of nave 31 ft. breadth of nave and aisles 73 ft. height of nave 64 ft. height of lantern 96 ft. height of tower with pinnacles 165 ft. length of choir to reredos 75 ft. length of lady chapel and retro-choir 93 ft. width of central transepts 146 ft. width of eastern transepts 110 ft. principal building dates norman (1079-1115)--main arcade of nave, arcade and triforium of choir, font, east wall of south transept, vestry. (1189-1199)--retro-choir. early english (1200-1250)--lady chapel, crypt. (1282-1287)--north transept. decorated (1300-1360)--walls and windows of aisles, choir transepts, upper part of tower, stalls and throne. perpendicular (1400-1530)--cloisters, windows in south transept, north porch, audley and stanbery chantries. modern--west front, triforium and clerestory of nave, east front, library. worcester cathedral worcester has many points of interest outside its cathedral. all round the city is historic ground. it was the battlefield of briton, roman, saxon, dane and norman. it heard the sounds of fighting in the wars of the barons and in the wars of the roses, and in the great civil war worcester repeatedly suffered, and within its boundaries the great battle of worcester was fought, the last effort of a dying cause. the half-timbered houses of the elizabethan and early stuart times, the interesting churches, and streets that by their names record many a curious custom and phase of old english life, all remind us of ancient times and the manners of our forefathers. we will walk round the town and note its chief points of interest. we notice the old houses in new street, the remains of the old city wall, "the cross," the old centre of civic life, the guild hall, designed by a pupil of wren in 1721; st. helen's church, from the tower of which still nightly sounds the curfew. along sidbury the tide of battle rolled in 1651, when charles ii. was making his last gallant struggle against the army of the protector. the old edgar gate is near at hand, which leads to the castle and monastery of st. mary. the commandery in sidbury was a hospital founded by st. wulfstan, bishop of worcester about 1085, for a master, priests and brethren under the rule of st. augustine. the house is a wonderful example of mediæval architecture, and is kept in its ancient state by the present occupier, mr. littlebury, who allows it to be inspected. here in 1300 hugh le de spencer held a court. the great hall is of tudor architecture. king charles i. stayed a night here, and the duke of hamilton died here, after wounds received in the fatal battle. "fort royal," fortified by charles i., is seen from the garden, and cannon were placed here at the battle of worcester; but cromwell captured the stronghold. charles ii. withdrew with difficulty, and the house in the old corn market is shewn where he took refuge, and effected his escape at the back door as colonel cobbett, his pursuer, entered at the front. over the entrance is the inscription: "love god. honour the kinge." history of the cathedral the see of worcester was first formed in 680, when the unwieldy diocese of mercia was divided, and bosel was its first bishop. the successive kings of mercia poured wealth into the episcopal treasury, and endowed the see with many a rich manor. st. dunstan was bishop here (957-961), and then came oswald, subsequently archbishop of york, the reformer of monasteries, who is said to have replaced the secular priests by a community of monks, and built the church and monastery of st. mary on the site of the present cathedral. this sacred fane was destroyed by the danes, under hardicanute, in 1041. bishop wulfstan, the second prelate of that name who held the see, was appointed in 1062, a holy, simple and earnest prelate, who, though a saxon, held his see in spite of norman opposition and prejudice. he laid the foundations of the existing cathedral, and some of his work remains in the crypt and monastic buildings. when he saw the workmen pulling down the ruins of the old church of st. oswald he wept, saying, "we destroy the works of our forefathers only to get praise.... we neglect the care of souls and labour only to heap up stones." he was canonised, and many miracles were reported to have taken place at his tomb, to which there was great resort. in 1113 fire destroyed part of the cathedral, as well as the city and castle. in the troublous times of stephen, florence, a monk of worcester, tells us that when a raid was made on the city the people took their chests and sacks of goods and deposited them in the great church, while all the church goods, the curtains and palls, albs and copes were hidden away in recesses in the walls. the west bays of the nave were built about 1160. in 1175 the "new tower" fell, a misfortune common to so many cathedrals; in 1189 another great fire raged, and the troubles of john's evil reign were felt heavily here, when the city was taken by the king's forces, the church pillaged and the monks compelled to pay a heavy fine, to defray which they even melted down the shrine of the saint. soon john was buried here, and could do no further mischief. in 1218 the church was dedicated, when henry iii. and a goodly number of bishops and nobles were present. in a storm is 1221 the two "lesser towers" fell. happily the offerings at the shrine of st. wulfstan, which was soon repaired, were very numerous, and in 1224 the present choir and lady chapel were begun by bishop william de blois in the early english style, and doubtless continued by bishop walter cantilupe, uncle of the sainted bishop of hereford. he was a sturdy englishman who upheld the rights of the english church against the pope, and was excommunicated by the roman pontiff. the work of rebuilding the church gradually progressed. the nave was built in the decorated style on the north side (1317-1327), and bishop thomas cobham, styled "the good clerk," made the vault of the north aisle; so leland informs us. the south side of the nave is a little later, about 1360, when traces of perpendicular work are evident, blended with the decorated. in this century also was built the guesten hall, now, alas! destroyed, the roof of which is now seen in holy trinity church. henry de wakefield was a vigorous builder (1376-1394). during his time the refectory and cloister, the tower, the stone vault over the choir, under the belfry, over the nave, library, treasury and dormitory, the water-gate, infirmary, the stalls in the choir, the west window and the north porch were erected. at the reformation worcester had a very zealous reforming bishop in the person of hugh latimer, who was subsequently burnt at oxford. under his rule the costly shrines of st. oswald and st. wulfstan were destroyed, and the relics buried near the high altar. during the civil war worcester fared badly, and terrible scenes took place in the sacred building. in 1642 cromwell's soldiers under the earl of essex entered the town and did after their kind. they pulled down altars, destroyed vestments and furniture, and carried off stores of treasure concealed in the crypt and deposited there for safety. the bishop at this time, john prideaux, was a vigorous royalist, who excommunicated freely all who fought against the king. in return the soldiers pillaged his palace, and the poor bishop was reduced to selling his books in order to gain a livelihood. but this was not all the evil that befell the "faithful city." it was besieged four years later from march 26 to july 23, but when the roundheads gained the day and entered the city they behaved in most becoming manner, and did less damage than the soldiers of the royalist garrison. but even this was not all. in 1651 was fought the battle of worcester. we can see charles ii. watching the issues of the fight from the top of the tower, and then the divers fortunes of the fight (to which allusion has already been made), the final victory of cromwell, the capture of 6000 prisoners, who were confined in this sacred building. then followed one of the most terrible scenes in the war, when the soldiers of cromwell were let loose on the helpless citizens, and ravaged and plundered without mercy in the streets and lanes and houses of this unhappy city. [illustration worcester cathedral from the severn] at the restoration of the monarchy it does not seem that any extensive repairs were immediately undertaken. in the eighteenth century some unfortunate "restoration" was carried out which disfigured the building, and did not materially contribute to its strength. as most of these disfigurements have been removed, we need not record them. a great restoration was begun in 1857 by mr. perkins, the architect, and continued by sir gilbert scott, and the church was re-opened in 1874. opinions differ with regard to the severity of this restoration. certainly it has destroyed all appearance of antiquity in the exterior of the choir and lady chapel, but professor willis thinks that we have now a reproduction of its original aspect, as far as that can be determined. however, the attempt to reproduce the original should not be the entire aim of restoration. we want to have the whole story of the building before us, and not its opening chapters interpreted for us, and often mangled and distorted by the modern restorer. the exterior we approach the cathedral from the west and obtain a good view. at the foot of the west end the river flows. the _west front_ need not detain us; it is plain and unpretentious. there is a large modern window in decorated style, and above three lancets, and a cross crowns the gable. the doorway is norman much restored, and has figures of our lord in glory, angels and the virgin and holy child. the _north porch_ was built by bishop wakefield (1375-1394), and belongs to the period when the decorated style was merging into the perpendicular. there is a parvise over it with perpendicular battlements, and figures of our lord and the twelve apostles in niches. above is a row of small figures. between the porch and the west front was formerly the charnel-house, built by bishop william de blois in the thirteenth century and demolished in the seventeenth. the crypt still exists. the two west bays are transition norman. the rest is decorated work. a small decorated chapel, called _jesus chapel_, juts out from the aisle on this side. the lower part of the walls of the north transept is norman work, but the transept was much repaired in the fourteenth century and the windows are perpendicular, and that in the north wall is a modern antique. strong flying buttresses support the main walls on the east of this transept. there is a choir transept. the east end is plain. the east window is of early english design but modern workmanship. the south side is very similar to the north, but enclosures and buildings prevent us from a close inspection. the cloisters are as usual in benedictine monasteries on the south side, and these we shall enter from the church. the _tower_ dates from 1374, but the details are modern, as the tower was very much restored. it is of good proportion, has two storeys with crocketed pinnacles, a parapet adorned with lesser spires, and the whole effect is not unpleasing. the interior we enter by the north porch. the _nave_ covers the same ground as the original norman cathedral, and some remains of the old building are left. at the west end the door entering into the north aisle, at the north-east angle of the north aisle, and the great norman shafts running up the centre of the second piers from the west, are pure norman. the two _western bays_ are transition norman, and are an interesting study. we see here almost the earliest advance of gothic art and the earliest traces of the early english feeling which manifested itself for the first time in its developed form in the choir of lincoln. it will be observed that the arches are pointed, but the capitals are late norman. the triforium is peculiar, and has a series of pointed arches over three round-headed openings, the centre one being much higher than the rest, and the ornaments are the zigzag, lozenge and curious knots of carved leafage. the clerestory consists of groups of three windows under round arches, the tracery at the back being perpendicular insertions. the date of this portion is about 1160. the vault was fashioned by bishop wakefield (1375-1394). there are seven remaining bays. those on the south are later than those on the north, and the earlier work is the richer and more beautiful. on the north the five eastern bays and the pier arches of the other two are decorated (1317-1327), while the rest of these two bays and all the south side are early perpendicular. the great west window is modern, erected in 1865 in early decorated style. sculptured figures of characters from the old testament appear in the tympana of the triforium. the _south aisle_ has two west bays of transition norman work like the nave, quadripartite vaulting, late decorated windows, high in the wall on account of the cloister on the other side, and two doorways called the monks' and the prior's. the wall is original norman. here is a large modern font. the _north aisle_ has also the two west bays of transition norman. the vaulting is decorated, the work of bishop cobham (1317-1321), and the rest of the aisle belongs to the same period. the _jesus chapel_ opens from this aisle, separated by a modern screen in perpendicular style. this chapel has been recently restored by the hon. percy alsop, and the scheme of decoration is very elaborate and beautiful. the _pulpit_ is a very handsome and elaborate structure made of marble and alabaster, with some excellent carving. the principal monuments in the nave and aisles are:--sir john beauchamp (1388), much defaced, in alabaster, and his lady, whose head rests on a swan, the beauchamp crest; robert wylde (1608) and his lady--the sides of the tomb are adorned with sunflowers rising from vases; dean eedes (1608); bishop thornborough (1641). in the south aisle--an ecclesiastic (late fourteenth century); bishop parry (1616); altar tomb unknown; thomas littleton, judge (1481), learned law writer; bishop freke (1591); sir henry ellis, who fell at waterloo; richard solly (1804); bishop gauden (1662), the supposed writer of _eikon basilike_, a work usually attributed to charles i. in the north aisle--earl of strafford and soldiers of the worcestershire regiment who fell in india; bishop goldsborough of gloucester (1613); the moore family (1613); and curious effigy of bishop bullingham (1576). very little ancient glass is left; the windows of the south aisle have a few fragments, but all the rest is modern. the _north transept_ is norman as high as the clerestory and is without aisles. a norman staircase turret is in the north-west corner. the different coloured stones used in the building is remarkable and gives a pleasing effect. perpendicular work is evident. in the east wall is a norman arch recently discovered. traces of colour are evident above the arch leading to the north aisle of the choir. the north window is a modern insertion. the monuments here are bishop fleetwood (1683), bishop hough (1743), the magdalen president who withstood james ii., bishop stillingfleet and others. the _south transept_ is somewhat similar to the north. there are some fine norman window arches now blocked up, and a beautiful norman arch opening to the chapel of st. john. the builders of the fifteenth century cased the norman walls with a screen of perpendicular tracery somewhat similar to the work at gloucester. the great organ is placed here. here is a monument of bishop philpott (1892). we now enter the _choir_ and eastern portion of the cathedral. the screen is of oak and open metal work designed by sir gilbert scott. a figure of the saviour is over the centre and a figure of the virgin looks eastward. this part of the building is certainly the most interesting. it is of early english design and was begun in 1224, that is four years after salisbury, and some twenty-four years after lincoln. worcester was one of the earliest churches in england in which english gothic was developed, and therefore has a peculiar interest for us. we notice that the span of the arches is wider than in the nave, and that in consequence the arches rise to a higher level. the triforium is, however, less in height than that of the nave. the piers are composed of clustered shafts of purbeck marble, and these have curious brass rings which were placed there by bishop gifford. the dog-tooth ornament is much used. the whole choir was restored by mr. perkins and sir g. scott. the _stalls_, which contain some finely-carved _misereres_, have seen many vicissitudes. puritan soldiers destroyed the ancient canopies. the carvings were placed on a hideous screen, at the beginning of the last century, which separated the nave from the choir. the subjects are curious--an old man stirring a pot over a fire, knights tilting, huntsmen, hawking scene, and many others. the _stone pulpit_ was brought here from the nave; the upper part is late perpendicular. the sculpture represents evangelistic emblems--heavenly jerusalem with tree of life, tables of the law, etc. the _throne_ is modern and is elaborately carved with figures, foliage, animals, birds and scriptural subjects. it was presented by bishop philpott. the modern _reredos_ is of alabaster enriched with gold, mosaic, lapis-lazuli and malachite. over the altar are statues of our lord and the evangelists, and there are figures of apostles, prophets, david and solomon and angels. the organ is divided into three separate parts connected by electricity. there are two royal tombs; in the centre of the choir is that of king john, who died at newark in 1216, whence his body was conveyed here for burial. the effigy is the earliest of an english king in this country. the royal garments are the tunic reaching to the ankles, and over this the dalmatic with wide sleeves and a girdle buckled in front. on the feet are sandals with spurs; on the hands are jewelled gloves, and there is part of a sceptre. the head has a crown, and the face has moustache and beard. the figures on each side are ss. oswald and wulstan. recently the figure has unfortunately been covered with gilt. the tomb on which the effigy rests is sixteenth-century work. the other royal tomb is that of prince arthur, eldest son of henry vii., who died at ludlow castle in 1502. his death was fraught with great consequence to english history. the tomb is a very fine example of late perpendicular work, in which the tudor emblems, the rose and portcullis, are evident. the exterior consists of open tracery, niches and panelled work, crowned with a battlement and pinnacles. within there is a flat groined roof, a rich mass of tabernacle work at the east end with figures in niches, in the centre a plain altar tomb, and at the west end a small figure of the mourning father, henry vii. the _south choir aisle_ is early english similar to the choir, as is the rest of this portion of the cathedral, and therefore this need not be again mentioned. the _chapel of st. john_, restored by earl beauchamp, is very fine. the glass is all modern. passing into the eastern transept we notice a piscina and aumbries and some remarkable sculptures in the spandrels of the arcade which are reproductions of ancient work. they are supposed to represent the present and future life. the subjects are: knights fighting with lions and centaurs (the world and its temptations); st. michael weighing souls, and the devil pulling down the scale; demons torturing souls over flames (purgatory); hell's mouth; a burial (of adam?); expulsion from paradise; an angel leading soul to heaven; the resurrection; angels sounding a trumpet and bearing the cross and christ enthroned. other subjects are monks building, annunciation, nativity, crucifixion, etc. in this transept is the effigy of a knight in full armour of the fourteenth century of ringed mail. the shield has harcourt arms, and below is the inscription--_ici gist sur guilliamme de harcourt_. guide books usually point him out as a crusader because he has his legs crossed. as we have already stated, there is no special signification in crossed-legged effigies. there is a tomb of sir gryffyth ryce (1523), "a noble knight," and his wife, daughter of sir john st. john, and near prince arthur's chantry the tomb of bishop gifford (1302), and maude de clifford, wife of earl of salisbury, beautifully executed. it is a wonderful study of the dress of the period (1301). here is a fine statue of mrs. digby by chantrey; this lady was maid of honour to queen charlotte (1820). the _lady chapel_, which has two aisles, is earlier than the west end of the choir. the wall arcade is very rich and beautiful. we notice the brass rings supposed to have been placed round the columns by bishop gifford. the east wall is entirely new, and the tracery of the windows is a modern restoration of ancient work. there are some curious grotesque carvings. the _north choir aisle_ has some beautiful capitals and bosses; a small oval window of perpendicular date looks on to this aisle, and was formerly the window of the sacrist's chamber, through which he could watch the great shrines. there is a curious carving under one of the windows. the principal _monuments_ in the lady chapel are:- a mural slab to the memory of anne, wife of _isaac walton_, the prince of anglers, who probably wrote the inscription: "_ex-terris._--m.s. here lyeth buried so much as could die of anne, the wife of isaac walton, who was a woman of remarkable prudence, and of primitive piety. her great and generale knowledge being adorned with such true humility, and blest with so much christian meeknesse as made her worthy of a more memorable monument. she died (alas that she is dead!) the 17th of april 1662, aged 52. study to be like her." bishop john jenkinson (1840) of st. david's. prebendary davison (1834), who wrote his famous work on _prophecy_. an unknown lady of the fourteenth century, one of the most beautiful mediæval relics in the cathedral. william, first earl of dudley (1885). george william, fourth baron lyttelton (1886). bishop william de blois (1236). bishop walter de cantelupe (1265). mutilated effigy of bishop brian (1361) or lynn (1373). bishop cobham (1327). bishop walter de bransford (1349). an unknown lady of the thirteenth century. an unknown knight, _temp._ henry iii. last abbot of evesham. the _crypt_ is a very interesting part of the cathedral, the work of st. wulstan, begun in 1084. we notice the fine norman piers with cushion capitals and square abaci. it is apsidal with aisles, and is remarkable for the numerous pillars. here in this crypt wulstan assembled a synod in 1092, when were assembled all the wisest men from the counties of worcester, gloucester and warwick. here used to be preserved the old fourteenth-century doors of the cathedral, which were said to be covered with human skin, which tradition says was flayed from the body of a man who stole the sanctus bell. the _cloisters_ are perpendicular in decoration, though the outer walls are norman. we pass through the prior's door, and notice how perfect the monastic arrangements remain. the vaulting is good lierne, and the bosses are beautifully carved with foliage and other devices. we see the ancient slype or arched passage of norman character and the _chapter-house_, with its beautiful central pillar and vaulted roof. it is one of the few norman ones left, though much altered in the early fifteenth century. its vault is perpendicular. a norman arcade runs round the wall, and the central pillar is transition norman. the windows and doorway are perpendicular and the exterior was coated with masonry of that period. here are preserved some fragments of ancient vestments, a paten of bishop blois', some good bindings and other treasures. on the south is the _refectory_ with norman crypt. the room is decorated, _temp._ edward iii., and is now part of the school called the king's school, founded by henry viii. a sculptured reredos of great beauty, with traces of coloured decoration, has recently been discovered here. in the west is an interesting lavatory and entrance to the dormitory, both perpendicular. the dormitory has disappeared, but its foundations have been traced. we return to the cathedral by the monks' door, or go by a vaulted norman passage to the west front. in the north-west cloister is a stone inscribed miserrimus, which is said to mark the grave of a non-juror, the rev. thomas morris, or maurice. wordsworth wrote the following lines on this subject:- "'miserrimus!' and neither name nor date, prayer, text, or symbol, graven upon the stone; nought but that word assigned to the unknown, that solitary word--to separate from all, and cast a cloud around the fate of him who lies beneath. most wretched one! _who_ chose his epitaph? himself alone could thus have dared the grave to agitate, and claim, among the dead, this awful crown; nor doubt that he marked also for his own close to these cloistral steps a burial-place, that every foot might fall with heavier tread, tramping upon his vileness. stranger, pass softly! to save the contrite, jesus bled." dimensions length (exterior) 425 ft. length (interior) 387 ft. nave, length 170 ft. nave, height 68 ft. nave, width 78 ft. choir, length 180 ft. tower, height 196 ft. area 33,200 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1084-1160)--crypt, chapter-house, and parts of other monastic buildings, west bays of nave with aisles, parts of north and south transepts. early english (1224)--choir with aisles and lady chapel. decorated (1317-1327)--north side of nave, vault of north aisle. (1360)--south side of nave. (1376-1394)--refectory, cloisters recased, tower, nave and choir vault, library, treasury, stalls and north porch. perpendicular--windows in north transept, prince arthur's tomb. modern--west window in nave, north window in north transept, east window in nave, reredos, etc. [illustration plan of worcester cathedral] lichfield cathedral lichfield has been the victim of puritan rage and of the over-zeal of modern restorers, but in spite of this it retains much of its ancient beauty and its picturesqueness is evident to all. it is one of the smallest of our cathedrals, but when one sees the three graceful spires of lichfield, known as the "ladies of the vale," the glories of its west front and the richness of the carving, one cannot but retain a warm place in one's heart for this wonderful building which has passed through such strange vicissitudes of fortune. it has been be-pinnacled by our modern gothic confectioners, who have produced much unnatural "naturalism" in their sculpture; but if we can forget that much that we see is new, we shall perhaps form some conception of what the cathedral was like ere innovators and destroyers laid their hands upon it. the history of the cathedral is full of interest, and carries us back to the early days of christianity in england. the heathen king of mercia, penda, long withstood the teachers of the gospel, but when his son, peada, was about to marry the daughter of the christian king oswi of northumbria, the latter made it a condition that peada should be baptised. forthwith four priests were introduced into mercia, diuma became the first bishop (656), and on the death of bishop jaruman, the fourth bishop, the famous st. chad was appointed to the vacant see, who fixed his seat at lichfield. he was a very holy and humble man, and became the patron saint of the church. beautiful tales are told of him. near the church of st. mary he built a dwelling for himself and seven brethren. he was deeply affected by the convulsions of nature, and when the wind blew strongly and the thunder rolled he would always retire into the church and pray to god to spare his people; and when a pestilence broke out and his end was near, angel voices were heard which called him to his heavenly reward. the little church of st. chad was near the well that bears his name. another saxon church was built by bishop hedda (691-721) near the present cathedral, but this has passed away. the diocese was sub-divided at the close of the seventh century, and hereford, worcester, lincoln and leicester were all separated from the lichfield see. in the time of offa, king of mercia, lichfield became an archbishopric, when higbert was bishop, but this distinction did not last long. at the conquest william made his chaplain, peter, bishop of lichfield, who removed his seat to chester. then coventry was made the city of the diocese by bishop robert de lymesey (1087-1117). history is silent concerning the church at lichfield, nor does it tell us with any degree of certainty who built the norman church which certainly existed here, as its remains were discovered by professor willis. it had an apse, of which the foundations lie below the present choir, and also a long, square-ended chapel of twelfth century, destroyed when the early english choir was built in the thirteenth. professor willis compares the building of york and lichfield, and points out the close parallelism. unfortunately the soldiers in the civil war destroyed all the records; hence we have little to guide us except the history written in the stones of the cathedral. a norman prelate, roger de clinton, did much for the church, but all his work has perished. the diocese was then called that of lichfield and coventry. he died in one of the crusades. the early english builders began to build a new choir about 1200 a.d., of which only the lower part of the three westernmost bays and the sacristy on the south side remain. about 1220 they began to replace the norman transepts with early english work, beginning with the south transept and ending with the north. the nave was constructed about the middle of this century and central tower added, and the chapter-house belongs to the same period of architectural activity. in the last quarter of the century the west front was begun. at the end of the century a notable bishop was appointed, one walter de langton, keeper of the great seal and treasurer of england in the reign of edward i., who incurred the hatred of prince edward, afterwards edward ii., and was several times imprisoned by him. he led a very stormy life, but found time to begin the building of the beautiful lady chapel at lichfield, surrounded the close with a wall and a fosse, thus making it a fortress, erected a grand shrine for the relics of st. chad and built the palace. this chapel was finished by bishop northburgh, who had fought at bannockburn and been taken prisoner by the scots, and at the same time the presbytery and clerestory of the choir were rebuilt in the decorated style. the church was now complete, and very perfect must it have been, glorious with the best achievements of true english gothic art when that art was at its best. quaint thomas fuller describes it as "the neatest pile in england," and tells us that bishop heyworth "deserved not ill of his cathedral church of lichfield, which was in the vertical heights thereof, being, though not augmented in the essentials, beautified in the ornamentals thereof. indeed the west front thereof is a stately fabric, adorned with exquisite imagery, of which i suspect our age is so far from being able to imitate the workmanship, that it understandeth not the history thereof." quoting a saying of charles v. of florence, "that it was fit that so fair a city should have a case and cover for it to keep it from wind and weather," he adds, "so in some sort this fabric may seem to deserve a shelter to secure it." it was also a church rich in relics and costly ornaments, and kings and nobles loved to adorn it with bounteous offerings, while the shrine of st. chad brought many a pilgrim to fill its treasury when they paid their vows. the fifteenth century made few alterations to the fabric. dean heywood built a library, which has now disappeared. some perpendicular windows were inserted. at the reformation henry's commissioners carried off a vast store of plate and jewels for "the king's use," and during the civil war the cathedral actually endured a siege, the results of which were most disastrous. we have recorded how bishop langton surrounded the close with fortifications. the sacred precincts were garrisoned by the royalists, who awaited the attack of the parliamentarians, led by lord brooke, a fierce fanatic, who longed to pull down all cathedrals as relics of popery, and extirpate episcopacy. on st. chad's day they began the siege, and brooke prayed in the presence of his men that "god would by some special token manifest unto them his approbation of their design." the "special token" was manifested, but not in favour of the roundheads; on the second day of the siege a bullet fired by "dumb dyott," the son of sir richard, one of the leaders of the royalists, struck brooke in the eye, and caused his death. this signal act did not save the cathedral. the spire was struck by cannon balls, and fell, and after three days the garrison made terms of surrender. desecration and spoliation raged in the once beautiful church. carved stalls, organ, stained glass windows--all shared the same fate. images were torn from their niches and broken; tombs were rifled, and the ashes of holy men scattered about with barbarous indecency. bishop scrope's tomb yielded a silver chalice and crozier of much value, and a pandemonium of ruthless rage filled the church. prince rupert came to lichfield, and laid siege to the cathedral, and after ten days turned out the roundheads. here the luckless king charles came, after the disastrous fight of naseby, and again, when the royal cause was well-nigh lost, the parliamentarians besieged the place, and the king's troops were forced to yield. the restoration of the monarchy brought about the restoration of the cathedral, which, according to fuller, "was now in a pitiful case, indeed almost beaten down to the ground in our civil dissensions." bishop hacket, a worthy and zealous man, was appointed to the see, who immediately began the stupendous work, and in eight years completed it, when the church was reconsecrated with much solemnity. king charles ii. gave "100 fair timber trees" for the restoration, and a poor statue of the monarch was placed at the west end, and the duke of york gave the large window beneath it. both have now been removed. too soon the ruthless hand of the arch-destroyer, wyatt, was laid on the luckless cathedral, who wrought mischief second only to that of the puritan fanatics. as the canons felt cold, he walled up the pier arches of the choir and closed the eastern tower arch with a glass screen, removed the altar to east end of the lady chapel, patched the piers with roman cement, hacked away the old stone-work, in order to make this cement stick, and fixed up a large organ screen between the nave and the choir. roman cement became the passion of the hour. statues were made of it, old stone-work repaired with it; arches, mouldings, niches and pinnacles were coated with it. happily its reign is over. sir gilbert scott began his restoration in 1856. the difficulty of the work was enormous. he endeavoured to imitate the ancient sculpture and stone-work, and restore the cathedral to the condition of its early gothic purity. though some of the work has been severely criticised, we must take into consideration the difficulties caused by wyatt and roman cement which he had to encounter; we must remember that gothic revival had not reached its highest development in 1856, and be thankful that so much has been spared to us of this once magnificent cathedral. exterior when we enter the _close_ we notice that little is left of the fortifications that once made lichfield into a fortress. here and there a few traces of the walls remain. lichfield was never a monastery, so there are no cloisters. the view of the cathedral upon entering the close is very striking and beautiful. the colour of the stone is remarkable, as it is built of red sandstone. the three spires are extremely graceful. a fine view of them is obtained from the south side across the lake. the two west spires were built by bishop northbury (1322-1359), and are decorated. the upper part of the north-western one was rebuilt, and there has been some renovation of the other. the old central tower fell during the siege, and was rebuilt by bishop hacket at the restoration. the style is perpendicular, having been built in the fashion of the west tower. the _west front_ must have been one of the most beautiful in england, and has passed through many vicissitudes. it was commenced in 1275, and completed by degrees, the work being protracted for more than a century. the ball-flower ornament in the upper stages points to the later date of the highest part. there are three principal stages. in the lowest are three doorways, the wall being covered with a rich arcade of brackets and canopies and statues. the next stage has three rows of arcading, the lowest extending completely across the front. the west window divides the two upper arcades. there are windows in the tower fronts in the third stage, and the wall is covered with rich canopied arcade. the puritan soldiers did much injury to the statues which filled these niches. in 1820 the broken figures were restored with roman cement in a barbarous fashion. sir gilbert scott in 1877 began to reconstruct the west front, and placed new statues in the niches, and endeavoured to reproduce an exact copy of its appearance in the days of its early beauty. a study of the figures will not be without interest. small figures in central west doorway--on north side--genealogy of christ according to st. matthew from abraham to the virgin; on the south, according to st. luke from adam to joseph. notice fourteenth-century carving of our lord in glory inside the porch. north-west doorway _on north_- 1. ethelbert, angel, with emblem of the passion. 2. edwin, orb. 3. oswald, dove, with letter, and cross in his left hand. 4. oswy, casket, with key and cross. [illustration lichfield cathedral herbert railton distant view of exterior] 5. peada, embracing a cross. 6. wulphere, model of a saxon church, and a shield. _on south_- 1. bertha, cross in her hand, and her daughter kneeling at an altar. 2. ethelburga, glass and comb. 3. hilda, angel hovering over her, and pastoral staff in her hand. 4. eanfled, priest with letter. 5. ermenilda, laying down crown. 6. werburga, pastoral staff, and crown at her feet. south-west doorway the figures represent the two sources of english christianity, the celtic and roman missionaries. _north side_- 1. st. aidan, pastoral staff, and st. chad as a boy in st. aidan's school at lindisfarne. 2. finan, pastoral staff. 3. diuma, pastoral staff and banner. 4. ceollach, pastoral staff, and mitre at his feet, indicating that he resigned his bishopric. 5. trumhere, pastoral staff. 6. jaruman, pastoral staff, and model of a saxon church. _south side_- 1. gregory, young saxon slaves at his feet, in the market place at rome. 2. augustine, crozier and model of canterbury monastery. 3. paulinus, crozier. 4. theodore, crozier and scroll. 5. cuthbert, pastoral staff, and head of st. oswald in his hand. 6. wilfrid, pastoral staff, and treading on an idol. central gable 1. our lord in glory, in the act of benediction. 2. moses, the two tables of stone. 3. elijah, a book. 4. st. gabriel, holding a lily, the emblem of purity. 5. st. uriel, open book. 6. st. michael, in armour, with spear and shield. 7. st. raphael, pilgrim's staff. _highest stage--south side_- 8. adam, clothed with skins, and with a lion at his feet. 9. abel, shepherd's crook and a lamb. 10. abraham, fire and knife. 11. isaac. 12. jacob. 13. melchisedec, royal and priestly robes and censer. 14. enoch, prophesying, with uplifted hand. 15. methuselah, old man's staff. 16. noah, ark and olive branch. 17. daniel. 18. job, staff, and prophesying the resurrection. 19. shem. _middle stage--upper tier_- 20. isaiah, a saw. 21. hosea, skull at his feet, and scroll, "o death, i will be thy plagues." 22. jonah, a fish at his feet, and scroll in his hand, "salvation is of the lord." 23. zephaniah, holding a torch and scroll, "the great day of the lord is near." 24. st. michael, in armour, with spear and shield. 25. bishop hacket, holding the open bible. 26. bishop lonsdale, model of eton college chapel at his feet. 27. bishop selwyn, his hand resting on the head of a melanesian boy. bishop of new zealand, 1841 to 1867. bishop of lichfield, 1868 to 1878. 28. vacant. _middle stage--lower tier_- 29. ezekiel, wheel, with evangelistic emblems. 30. joel, locust at his feet, and scroll in his hand, "jehovah is god." 31. micah, with foot upon an idol; and the words, "who is god like unto thee," in a scroll. 32. haggai, unfinished temple at his feet, and pointing upwards, and scroll, "go up to the mountain." 33. st. raphael, a pilgrim's staff, as a messenger of god. 34. bishop clinton, a.d. 1129, model of a norman church. 35. bishop patteshull, a.d. 1240, wearing a chasuble, as shown on his effigy in the cathedral. 36. bishop langton, a.d. 1296, model of the lady chapel at his feet. 37. vacant. _lower stage of kings_- 38. st. chad, a.d. 669, pastoral staff, first bishop of lichfield. 39. peada, a.d. 665, embracing the cross. 40. wulphere, a.d. 657, shield, and model of peterborough monastery. 41. ethelred, a.d. 657, four scrolls, indicating the four sub-divisions of the great mercian diocese, lichfield, worcester, hereford and chester. 42. offa, a.d. 755, archiepiscopal mitre. 43. egbert, a.d. 827, orb and sceptre. first sole monarch of saxon britain. 44. ethelwolf, a.d. 836. 45. ethelbert, a.d. 860, crown and sword. 46. ethelred, a.d. 866, holding a book to his breast. 47. alfred, a.d. 871, a harp. 48. edgar, a.d. 958, wolf's head; alluding to tribute of wolves' heads in lieu of money. 49. canute, a.d. 1017, orb, and looking to the sea; in reference to his rebuke of his courtiers. 50. edward the confessor, a.d. 1042, a dove, and a ring in his left hand. 51. william the conqueror, a.d. 1066, _doomsday book_ and sword. 52. william rufus, a.d. 1087, bow and arrow, and hunting horn; alluding to his death. 53. henry i., a.d. 1100, holding a book. 54. stephen, a.d. 1135, orb, dove and sword. 55. henry ii., a.d. 1154, sceptre and sword. 56. richard i., a.d. 1189, with banneret and battle axe. 57. john, a.d. 1199, signing magna charta. 58. henry iii., a.d. 1216, model of westminster abbey. 59. edward i., a.d. 1272, the poisoned arrow. 60. edward ii., a.d. 1307, reversed sceptre; alluding to his deposition and murder. 61. edward iii., a.d. 1327, the garter and sceptre. 62. richard ii., a.d. 1377, orb, cross and sceptre. _lowest stage--north to south_- 63. st. cyprian, sword and book. archbishop of carthage. 64. st. bartholomew, knife. 65. st. simon, saw. 66. st. james the less, club and book. 67. st. thomas, the carpenter's square. 68. st. philip, cross. 69. st. andrew, a transverse cross. 70. st. john, pen and book. 71. vacant. 72. mary magdalene, the alabaster box of ointment. 73. the virgin and child. 74. mary, wife of cleophas. 75. vacant. 76. st. peter, keys. 77. st. paul, sword and book. 78. st. matthew, wallet. 79. st. james the greater, staff, book and scallop shell. 80. st. jude, scroll. 81. st. stephen, stones and the martyr's palm. 82. st. clement, anchor and open book. 83. st. werburga, pastoral staff, clasped book and crown at her feet. north-west tower _middle stage--lower tier_- 84. daniel, scroll and flames of fire at his feet. 85. obadiah, hands lifted up and scroll, "the kingdom shall be the lord's." 86. habakkuk, writing the vision. 87. malachi, fiery oven at his feet and scroll. 88. st. uriel, a spear. 89. st. luke, staff with serpent entwined. 90. queen victoria. 91. st. mark, lion at his feet. 92. dean bickersteth. 93. jeremiah, lamenting destruction of jerusalem. 94. amos. 95. nahum, scroll and an assyrian idol. 96. zechariah, candlestick and scroll. 97. st. gabriel, shield and sceptre. 98. solomon, sceptre and model of the temple. 99. st. helena, the cross, and a model of a basilica. 100. david, harp. 101. st. editha, foot upon a crown. _north-west tower--upper tier_- 102. eve, a distaff in her hand. 103. old figure. this and four others are the only remaining fourteenth-century figures which have survived the wear of time and the violence of the civil war. 104. sarah, three cakes in her hand. 105. old figure. fourteenth century. 106. rachel, crook. 107. deborah, scroll. 108. old figure. fourteenth century. 109. hannah, with the boy samuel at her side. 110. samuel, anointing horn and scroll. 111. aaron, scroll. 112. old figure. fourteenth century. 113. old figure. fourteenth century. st. anthony over the belfry window on south side of south-west tower. the west window presented by james ii. when duke of york has been removed and a decorated window inserted. passing round to the north side we see the interesting north doorway, which is a double one, with five orders, and of early english style (1240 a.d.). the dog-tooth ornament is evident. carved figures appear in the mouldings. the genealogy of our lord, beginning with jesse, is on the east side; on the west st. chad and the apostles. kings and prophets appear on the middle moulding, and angels on the inner. these are good specimens of early english carving, and are original, though somewhat restored. a modern figure of st. anne is in the central niche, and above a figure of our lord. the figures of ss. james and jude are examples of the hideous roman cement work which once was so plentiful here. continuing our pilgrimage round the church we see the chapter-house and the lady chapel, which has been too much restored with new niches and statues of holy women mentioned in the bible. the lower row (new testament) has figures of priscilla, anna, dorcas, mary of bethany with box of ointment, martha with a dish and cloth, lydia, phebe and elizabeth; above esther, ruth with corn, naomi, rizpah, deborah, miriam, rachel and rebecca. passing the so-called mortuary chapels, probably vestries, we notice a noble figure of the madonna on south side, and though the head has been defaced, and the child knocked away, it remains a beautiful study of fourteenth-century pose and drapery. on the corners of the sacristy are figures of godefroi de bouillon and st. chad. the south portal has been much restored. it is similar to the north doorway, but not so rich in architectural details. on the tympanum are shields with arms of the diocese, and on the west the arms of lady catherine leveson, a benefactress of the time of bishop hacket, and an inscription recording her munificence on the east. a row of niches is over the door, formerly filled with figures of roman cement. happily they have disappeared. the rose window is very fine. interior we enter the church by the west door, and are struck with the richness and beauty of the view of the nave and choir, the clustered columns with richly-carved capitals, the elaborate reredos of marble and alabaster, and the stained glass of the lady chapel. it will be noticed that the choir inclines considerably to the north. this difference in orientation is observable in many churches, and has been interpreted as a figurative representation of the bending of our lord's head upon the cross. we believe that this beautiful fancy has no authority, and most probably the inclination was accidental. no records tell us when this nave was built. it is earlier than the west front, and was begun about 1250, at the time when the early english style was being merged in that of the decorated. there are eight bays. the piers are octagonal, with many shafts, the capitals enriched with foliage of early english type. the triforium has two arches in each bay, each arch has two sub-arches, with cusped heads, and a quatrefoil in the tympanum. dog-tooth ornament is used copiously. the clerestory windows are triangular, with three circles in each, and a trefoil in each circle. mr. petit stated, "nothing can exceed this nave in beauty and gracefulness." the roof was originally of stone. this the besiegers damaged, and after its restoration the stone vaulting was found too heavy for the walls and piers; hence it was removed, except the portions at the immediate east and west end. wyatt covered the rest with plaster to imitate the original work. the roof has now been coloured, so that it is impossible to discover any difference between the stone and plaster ceiling. the _aisles_ are similar in style to the nave, and are very narrow. the wall arcading is very fine early decorated work. the windows have three lights, with three foliated circles in their heads. in the north aisle are tablets to the memory of gilbert walmesley, the friend of dr. johnson and david garrick; to lady mary montagu, the introducer of the inoculation for small-pox; to ann seward, the "swan of lichfield" (1809), a window; brass to the memory of officers of the staffordshire regiment, and its colours. in the _south aisle_ are two curious semi-effigies of ancient date--the heads and the feet are carved, the rest of the body is left a blank in the stone; a good brass of the earl of lichfield (d. 1854); and the monument of dean addison (1703), the father of a more famous son--the essayist. we now pass to the _south transept_, which is earlier than the north, and was begun about 1220. the north transept and chapter-house were built twenty years later. doubtless for the building of the transepts henry iii. in 1235 and 1238 granted licence to the dean and chapter to take stone from the royal forest of hopwas, south of lichfield.[14] both transepts have east aisles. all is early english work, except the windows. the large south window is perpendicular, probably inserted by bishop blyth (1503-1533). the stone vault is also perpendicular, erected in place of a wooden one, which served as a model of that at st. george's chapel, windsor, according to the order of henry iii. there is some flemish glass in the south window of the aisle, similar to that in the lady chapel. it was brought from herckenrode. we notice the memorial of one of nelson's men--admiral sir w. parker. the south window is fitted with good modern glass. in the _north transept_ we see that the style has advanced since the construction of the south transept, twenty years earlier. the arcading here has trefoiled arches. the windows have perpendicular tracery, and a large north window was inserted in perpendicular times, but it has recently been removed and the early english window restored. the curious monument is of dean heywood, representing his skeleton. the organ occupies the aisle. standing beneath the _tower_, at the entrance of the choir, we notice the conjunction of styles--the large piers with banded shafts of the early english of the choir blended with later work of the transept and the early decorated of the nave. a modern metal screen of graceful design separates the transept from the choir, and was designed by sir g. scott. above are bronze angels playing instruments of music. the _choir_, which succeeded the norman apsidal choir, was begun in 1200, and the lady chapel about 1300, when the choir was lengthened by one bay. then the early english choir was removed as far as the third pier east of the tower, and the present choir built in the decorated style; the upper part of the three western bays was also removed, and a decorated clerestory added. thus we have the arches and piers of the first three bays early english, clerestory decorated, and three other bays decorated. wyatt wrought havoc here, but his plans have now been altered, and the arrangements been made to conform to the original design. it will be observed that the tracery of the clerestory windows is perpendicular, inserted at the restoration after the siege; only one original being left. there is no triforium, there being only two storeys. the spandrels have cusped circles, and in the older part niches with statues: on south, ss. christopher, james and philip; and on north, ss. peter, mary magdelene and the virgin. the stalls and bishop's throne are modern. the _reredos_ is very magnificent, designed by sir g. scott. the pavement contains a veritable history of the cathedral, while the space before the altar contains old testament types of the sacrifice of our lord. the canopies of the _sedilia_ are ancient and late decorated. the _choir aisles_ resemble in style the parts of the choir to which they are adjacent. in the north there is chantrey's monument of bishop ryder, and g.f. watts's effigy of bishop lonsdale (d. 1867). the _lady chapel_ is full of interest, and especially noticeable is the stained glass of sixteenth century, brought from the destroyed abbey of herckenrode, having been concealed from the destructive zeal of french revolutionists. the subjects are scenes from the life of our lord and figures of the benefactors of the abbey, and are the work of lambert lombard, the first, and by far the best, of the italianised flemish school of the sixteenth century. the architecture of the chapel was begun by bishop langton (1296-1321), and finished by northburg; the style is decorated. it has an octagonal apse--an unique arrangement. beneath the windows is an arcade, resting on a stone bench, and between the windows are niches, which have recently been filled with statues of excellent execution. these are:--st. werburgh, st. cecilia, st. prisca, st. faith, st. catherine, st. margaret, st. lucy, st. agnes, st. ethelreda. the triptych which forms the reredos was carved at ober ammergau. the altar rails are of alabaster. looking back we have a good view of the cathedral, and note the considerable inclination of the choir. on the south side are the so-called mortuary chapels, which have been restored in memory of bishop selwyn, and contain his effigy and some mural paintings recording scenes from the adventurous life of this great missionary-bishop, who did so much to plant the church in melanesia. the shrine of st. chad formerly stood in the retro-choir behind the high altar. in the south choir aisle is the consistory court, formerly the sacristy. the walls are the oldest part of the cathedral, being of the same date as the early english portion of the choir. we notice the old tile and coal pavement, and the old jacobean choir stalls. above is the minstrels' gallery, so-called, of perpendicular work, opening into st. chad's chapel, chiefly intended for the exhibition of relics to the pilgrims in the aisle below, and amongst these those of st. chad. this chapel, formerly used as a muniment room, has been beautifully restored by dean luckock, and has good lancet windows, noble reredos of alabaster, old piscina and aumbrey which probably once held the skull of st. chad. carved figures in bosses and corbels tell the story of the saint. the old treasury has been beautifully restored, and we see the old aumbreys which once contained such a store of treasures and relics, and some of the cannon balls which wrought such havoc during the siege. there are many interesting monuments in this aisle--notably the famous "sleeping children," by chantrey (1817), daughters of prebendary robinson; the monuments of archdeacon hodson and his son of "hodson's horse" fame, who distinguished himself so much in the indian mutiny; erasmus darwin (1802), grandfather of charles darwin, a writer of botanical poems; bishop langton (1296), much mutilated; bishop patteshull (1241), of purbeck marble; sir john stanley (1515), a curious effigy of a knight naked to the waist as if prepared for scourging. it is supposed that he was excommunicated for some offence, and was not ashamed to have his penance recorded on his tomb. other monuments are those of archdeacon moon (1876); dean howard (1868); bishop hacket, the restorer of the cathedral after the siege; one of the semi-effigies mentioned above, and at the east end is a curious fourteenth-century mural painting. we now visit the _chapter-house_, passing through the vestibule which is of late early english design. we notice the beautiful arcading in the latter; on the west side there are seats where, it is said, that the feet of beggars were washed on maundy thursday. the dog-tooth ornament is extensively used in the arcading. the doorway to the chapter-house is very fine and is a double one with a figure of our lord in the tympanum. clustered shafts are at the sides with capitals carved with foliage. the chapter-house is octagonal, having the north and south sides longer than the others. the central pillar is surrounded by banded shafts with richly-carved capitals. the windows are early english, with two lights. an arcade of forty-nine arches with rich canopies surrounds the chamber. traces of mural painting may be seen over the door. all the ancient glass was destroyed, and modern artists are depicting in glass the history of the see. over the chapter-house is the _library_. it contains many treasures, in spite of the puritan destruction, the most valuable being the gospels of st. chad (preserved in a glass case in the retro-choir), containing the gospels of ss. matthew and mark and part of st. luke. it has 700 miniatures. other treasures are chaucer's _canterbury tales_, which has all except that of the _ploughman's_, supposed by some to be spurious; caxton's _life of king arthur_, the ms. household-book of prince henry, eldest son of james i., and many rare bibles. the copy of south's sermons is interesting, as it belonged to dr. johnson, and contains ms. notes for his dictionary. dimensions total length 371 ft. length of nave 140 ft. width of the nave and its aisles 67 ft. width of the choir and aisles 66 ft. width of the lady chapel 29 ft. length of the transepts from north to south 149 ft. height of the vaulting 57 ft. height of the central spire 258 ft. height of the two western spires 198 ft. area 27,720 sq. ft. principal building dates early english (1220-1250)--lower part of three west bays of choir and sacristy, south transept. (1250-1275)--nave and aisles, central tower, chapter house, north and south doorways of transepts. decorated (1275-1357)--lady chapel, west front, and west spires. perpendicular--south window of south transept and vault, north window of west transept, some other windows, minstrels' gallery. (1661-1671)--central tower, spire rebuilt. footnote: [14] _rot. lit. clans._, 19, henry iii.; quoted by britton and murray. chester cathedral royal chester is one of the most ancient and interesting cities in the kingdom. it was an important roman station. it was called the "city of legions," and the twentieth legion of the roman army was stationed here, and left behind it many traces of its occupation. saxons and danes also held the place. the warlike daughter of alfred the great, and wife of ethelred of mercia, drove out the danes and rebuilt the walls, but the welsh again gained the mastery until the first saxon edward reconquered it, and later edgar subdued the britons, and in 973 was rowed in his victorious vessel on the dee by eight british chieftains. william the conqueror made his nephew earl of chester, and for years he and his successors ruled as kings in this corner of england, until henry iii. bestowed the title on his eldest son, and since that time the earldom has always been held by the king's first-born. edward i. often came here when he was waging war against llewellyn and the welsh, and worshipped in the great church. here henry iv. brought as a captive the luckless king richard ii. and imprisoned him in the castle. of royal visits old chester had abundance. the city was famous for its "miracle plays," which were performed in the streets. frequently the dread visitor plague made its presence felt, and grass grew in the neglected streets. tradition states that the name "god's providence house" was given to a house in watergate street, because that was the only dwelling which the plague passed over. chester played an important part in the civil war, and bravely resisted a siege and frequently repelled formidable attacks, and the inhabitants were reduced to great straits and much ruin wrought. the walls of the city are quite complete, and on one of the towers called the phoenix is the inscription: "king charles stood on this tower september 24th" (27th it should be) "1645, and saw his army defeated at rowton moor." chester retains many of its historical associations, its extensive roman remains, its walls and ancient houses, its wonderful rows, "like which there is nothing else in the world," the quaint street names, the interesting churches, all contribute to make chester one of the most delightful cities in england. although the great church is ancient, the present see is not. chester was one of the dioceses founded by henry viii. in return for some of the great stores of treasure which he and his courtiers filched from the church. it appears, however, that just after the norman conquest there were bishops of chester. in 1075 the bishop of lichfield removed the seat of the bishopric to chester, and the church of st. john the baptist was his cathedral. then coventry became the centre of the diocese, but the title of bishop of chester was frequently used, but fell into disuse in later time, until henry viii. constituted the new see. [illustration st. oswald's gate] the church has, however, a very interesting history. possibly there may have been a christian church here in roman times. an old chronicler tells us of an early church dedicated to ss. peter and paul, and that in the time of the saxons it was re-dedicated to st. werburgh and st. oswald. st. oswald we have met before at durham and elsewhere. st. werburgh was the daughter of walphur, king of mercia, a.d. 660, who, perceiving that his daughter was much disposed to a religious life, caused her to take the veil. her aunt, st. ethelreda of ely, was her spiritual mother, and when st. werburgh died her body was conveyed to chester, where a monastic house was built, dedicated to her. the early history of this house is somewhat uncertain. ormerod, the historian of chester, states that it continued a nunnery until the time of the norman conquest, when secular canons were installed in their stead, but this change took place in the time of king athelstan (925). leofric, the husband of lady godiva, is also recorded as a great benefactor of the church and monastery. when hugh lupus, the nephew of the conqueror, became earl of chester, in the time of william rufus he founded a new monastery of benedictine monks, and endowed it with rich possessions. he introduced the famous anselm, abbot of bec, afterwards archbishop of canterbury, who made his chaplain, richard, the first abbot. the norman church was begun in his time, and some of the features of the norman abbey of bec were introduced at chester, especially the stone roof of the apse in the south-east of the cathedral. some fragments of this church remain in spite of the changes which time has wrought, notably the small arches in the east wall of north transept, and an arch in the canons' vestry, the north wall of the nave, the doorway between the east cloister and the nave, the lower part of the north-west tower and the crypt. fire played havoc here as elsewhere, and we find abbot geoffrey lamenting over the intolerable ruin of his church. this was at the close of the twelfth century, and some reparation was affected, while, during the time of his successor, hugh grylle, prosperity dawned upon the abbey, and the number of monks was soon after increased. increased wealth tempted the rapacious, and the abbey had to withstand a siege. a noted abbot was simon de albo monasterio, or whitchurch, who did much for his monastery. he rebuilt the lady chapel, enlarged the chapter-house, and began the present choir. the refectory, with its beautiful pulpit, must have been constructed about this time, the close of the thirteenth century, when the king, edward i., gave grants of venison from his forests for the support of the monks, "who were engaged on the work of building the church." no records tell of any work being done by succeeding abbots until the time of simon ripley (1472-1493); but where records are silent the stone-work tells us that in the fourteenth century some beautiful work was accomplished, notably the shrine of st. werburgh, the sedilia and choir stalls. simon ripley was an energetic abbot, and rebuilt the nave, tower and south transept. this south transept was claimed as the parish church of the parishioners of st. oswald, and there were much disputings, but the people had their way, and retained their rights until 1881. we also find that the usual quarrels took place between the monks and citizens about the rights to hold fairs and markets. abbot birkenshawe continued ripley's work, and completed the west front and part of the west tower. an unfortunate alteration was made at this time. the vault of the cloisters was raised, tradition says, by cardinal wolsey, and mars the beauty of the earlier work. then came the dissolution of monasteries, and the abbey of st. werburgh shared the fate of the rest. the see of chester was created in 1541, the last abbot becoming the first dean, and john byrde the first bishop. most of the lands and wealth of the church were seized by the king and his courtiers. but, shorn of its wealth, the cathedral itself was at this time one of the most beautiful in england. dire troubles were, however, in store. the waves of the civil war beat fiercely on royal chester; and when, after the protracted siege, the victorious puritan soldiers entered the city, they defaced the cathedral choir, injured the organ, and demolished the font, broke all the painted windows, and used the church as a stable. randle holme, the historian of chester, utters a sad lament over the condition of the city which he loved so well, and compares it with jerusalem, "the beloved citie of god, with not a stone left upon another." since then the story of the cathedral has been one of continual reparation and restoration. the exterior of the choir was recased by bishop stratford (1689-1707). bishop law, in 1818, effected some considerable repairs, and other efforts were made, until at length sir g. scott was engaged in 1868, when dean howson ruled, and a very "thorough" restoration was made. a modern authority on gothic architecture states that sir g. scott's was "a rebuilding of every external feature of this cathedral in the style of his own victorian gothic." perhaps this criticism is a little too severe. it must be remembered that the stone of chester cathedral was very soft and perishable, that the state of the fabric was so bad that it was almost dangerous, and that the difficulties of the architect were great. however, in spite of what has been done, there is still much to admire, and we will proceed to examine the details of this ancient church. the exterior to examine the exterior we must avoid the narrow streets in its vicinity, and ascend the old walls of the city, from which we can obtain an excellent view. starting at the east gate, we get a good view of the south-east of the cathedral, including the tower, the east side of the south transept, choir and lady chapel. we notice the colour of the stone--red sandstone. the plan of the church is cruciform. the _tower_ is perpendicular in style, and was probably built by abbot ripley. two windows of perpendicular character look out from each side. it has been much restored, and was only just saved from destruction by this process. sir g. scott devised the turrets and pinnacles out of his inner consciousness, and also the parapet; but the effect, though differing, doubtless, from the original design, is not unpleasing. the _lady chapel_ is a simple and beautiful construction of early english design. on the south side there are three triple lancets under a pointed arch, separated by buttresses crowned with pinnacles, and a parapet above. the south aisle of the choir is early decorated, and there is a modern apsidal termination, with a curious steep roof, almost resembling the spire of a church, which sir g. scott constructed, and for which he found justification in the remains of the earlier roof. this example is unique in england, but not unusual in france. the south transept is unusually large, which is accounted for by its being the church of st. oswald. there are some curious modern sculptures in a corbel here, representing modern statesmen, and the features of mr. gladstone and lord beaconsfield are not difficult to discover. passing along the wall of the city, at the east of abbey street we see the north-east view. near at hand, on the right, is the refectory, and on the left the chapter-house, which is early english. the north transept is norman work. the north choir aisle, which extends along the side of the lady chapel, is, in its eastern part, perpendicular; further west it is early decorated, while by the canons' vestry we see unmistakable norman work. in this wall much of the old stone remains, as it has not suffered so much from the weather as on the south side. we see the long expanse of the nave roof, and then pass along abbey street, and have a fine view of this north side. then houses interfere with the prospect. then we see the old abbey gateway, a fourteenth-century structure, and the new buildings of the king's school, which occupies the site of the old palace, and soon stand opposite the _west front_, which lacks the grandeur of this feature of many cathedrals. it has a large perpendicular window of good design and rich tracery; beneath it is a tudor doorway, and canopied niches, and on the south the base of a tower which was never completed. passing along we have a grand view of the south side. [illustration chester cathedral] there is a porch, with a parvise over it, of late perpendicular design, with tudor doorway, and battlements and pinnacles. the vault is modern; the windows of the aisle are decorated, and those of the clerestory perpendicular. this concludes our survey of the exterior, and we now enter the cathedral and examine the principal features of the interior. the interior entering by the south porch or the west door, we examine first the _nave_, which is small and not very striking in appearance. there are six bays, but the southern arcade is much earlier than the north. the piers consist of groups of attached shafts, with capitals of foliage. the southern arcade is decorated, while the northern is later. the initials s.r. appear on the capital of the first northern pier. these letters stand for simon ripley, abbot (1485-1492). he probably built the upper part of the northern arcade, but the lower part is earlier. the clerestory was finished by abbot birkenshawe. the last bay eastward is more ornamented than the rest, and has cusped windows in the clerestory and tracery in the triforium opening. this is earlier, and is perhaps more ornate, because the choir included this bay. the roof is modern, and has a good specimen of fan-tracery vault. some of the bosses are noticeable, and record the benefactors--the prince of wales, duke of westminster, and others. under the south tower is the _consistory court_, which is separated from the nave by some curious jacobean stone-work, and contains some good woodwork of the same period. the south aisle has decorated windows; the north aisle contains some interesting remains of the old norman church. the north wall is entirely norman. a norman doorway leads to the cloisters at the east end, and at the west there are some remains of the norman tower built by the nephew of the conqueror. this is now the baptistry, which has a curious _font_, presented by earl egerton in 1885. the dean states that "it came from a ruined church in the romagna, but it is not known whence it was brought to venice. it is of a rectangular form, of white marble; and in all probability it was originally a village well-head in early roman times, and afterwards taken by the christians and carved with symbols for a font. the work is of the ravenna type, of the sixth or seventh century." near here is hung an ancient piece of tapestry, which has been in the cathedral since 1668. the subject is raphael's cartoon of elymas the sorcerer. the vault of this aisle is modern. the old wall is covered with rich mosaics, representing abraham, sarah, moses, david, elijah, and other old testament characters. the _north transept_ is small, and is of the same size as the original church, there being no room for expansion on this side because of the monastic buildings. the lower walls are original norman, the upper late norman. a norman arch, now blocked up, leads to the canons' vestry on the east. the arches of the triforium are very early, and are rude and massive. on the west there are three norman windows blocked up. perpendicular tracery has been inserted in some of the windows. that of the north window is modern. the roof is perpendicular, and on one of the bosses are the arms of cardinal wolsey. a conspicuous monument here is that of bishop pearson (1686), the author of the famous work on _the creed_. the initiation of the erection of this magnificent memorial of one of the greatest of english divines was due to an american bishop, dr. whittingham of maryland. the organ-loft is very rich, and the instrument itself is a very noble one, and replete with every modern contrivance. crossing to the _south transept_, which until 1881 was the parish church of st. oswald, we notice its great size when compared with that on the north. it was undergoing restoration when we last visited the cathedral. it has decorated windows, and perpendicular in the west aisle. the monuments in the naves and transepts do not possess many features of interest, and may be passed over. [illustration the choir] we now enter the _choir_, and can admire the modern screen, designed by sir g. scott, and beautifully executed. the choir is remarkable for the great beauty of the woodwork which it contains, as well as for its architectural merits. the style is that of the transition between the early english and decorated. the north side differs from the south, especially in regard to the mouldings. the north side is earlier than the south, the building having been commenced at the east end of that side. the mouldings on the north are bold rounds, while those on the south are shallow and small hollows. the triforium has a series of elaborately-carved cusped arches, and the clerestory windows are light and graceful, with geometrical tracery. the vault is modern, constructed of good english oak. at the east there are figures of the sixteen prophets, and at the west are angels playing musical instruments. there are some curious grotesque corbels, from which the vaulting shafts spring. the carving of the _choir stalls_ is equal, if not superior, to anything in england. these are fourteenth-century work, and rival the noble stalls of amiens. they have been restored with much accuracy and taste. the carving of the dean's stall should be noticed, as it represents the jesse tree, surmounted by the coronation of the virgin. that representing jacob's dream is modern. the _misereres_ are extremely interesting and curious, and full of religious instruction, though often conveyed in the way of sarcastic reproof. there are forty-eight, of which three are modern. some of the most curious are: a pelican feeding her young; st. werburgh and the stolen goose; a wife beating her husband; the strategy of the fox; stag hunt; richard i. pulling out the heart of a lion; a fox in the garb of a monk presenting a gift to a nun; various wild men; wrestlers; unicorn resting its head on a virgin's knee, and numerous grotesques. the _throne_ is a handsome modern work, and also the _pulpit_, presented by the freemasons of cheshire, who restored also the ancient sedilia, which, tradition states, came from the old church of st. john without the city walls. the altar is made of wood grown in palestine. the oak of bashan, olive wood from the mount of olives, and the cedar of lebanon, are all used, and the carvings represent palm, vine, wheat, olive, thorn, bulrush, hyssop, myrrh and flax, all of which are included in the _flora_ of palestine. the reredos is a mosaic of the last supper. the magnificent candelabra of italian _cinque cento_ work are the gift of the late duke of westminster. over the altar is an arch, through which the window of the early english lady chapel can be seen, and above is a window with decorated tracery. the _north aisle_ of the choir is interesting. traces of norman work are seen in the base of a massive round pillar at the west entrance, in the inverted capital of a norman pier, with an early decorated pier constructed on it, and the norman apse is marked on the pavement by a line of dark marble. the canons' vestry is architecturally a very important building, as it contains work of the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. the arch in east wall of the transept is early norman; the norman apsidal termination can be traced. it was rebuilt in the early english period, and made to terminate in a square form, and the doorway from the north aisle is fourteenth-century work. there is an old chest or reliquary here with very good iron-work and lock of the thirteenth century. re-entering the aisle we can trace the abandonment of the apse and the extension eastward in the early english period, as shown in the character of the vaulting and in the piscina, which belongs to this period. in perpendicular times a further extension took place, in order to gain an entrance to the lady chapel. the gates of both aisles are old spanish work of 1558, presented by the late duke of westminster. the _south aisle_ has passed through somewhat similar vicissitudes, but "restoration" has removed some of their traces, and it is now terminated by the apse, the erection of which we recorded when examining the exterior, and which is conjectured to be an exact reproduction of the appearance of this end of the cathedral in the time of edward i. the apse has been fitted up as a memorial to thomas brassey, the great contractor. the _lady chapel_ is of early english design, and was built about 1266, previous to the present choir. many alterations were made subsequently, including the removal of the ancient steep and lofty roof and the substitution of a flat roof, and the insertion of perpendicular windows. most of these additions have been removed and the early english character restored. the east window of five lights was designed by scott, and the original form of the roof has been restored. the vault, which is original early english, has a boss representing the murder of thomas à becket. the mosaics were designed by sir a. blomfield. here the consistory court was held at the time of the reformation, and george marsh, the chester martyr, was condemned to be burnt. the _monuments_ in the choir and lady chapel are to the memory of dean howson, bishop graham (1865), dean arderne, an altar tomb to an unknown person, and the famous shrine of st. werburgh, of fourteenth-century work, which is of exquisite design and construction. it was richly ornamented by figures. there was a great resort of pilgrims to this shrine in mediæval times. the pavement of the choir is worthy of attention. it is modern; around the lectern are the heads of the twelve apostles, and of the four doctors of the church--ss. ambrose, augustine, athanasius and chrysostom. on the east end are representations of the passover, and some fragments of tesselated pavement are inserted here which came from the temple at jerusalem. the stained glass is all modern. the cathedral has a rare treasure of the seventeenth century, a carved narwhal tusk, beautifully carved by a flemish artist. it is thus described by the dean: "the leading subject is the incarnation of our lord jesus christ, passing on to the exaltation of the cross.... a jesse tree occupies about 3 feet, and above is seated the blessed virgin with the holy child. higher up is the cross with the figure of our saviour, whose countenance is full of compassion.... st. michael thrusting down lucifer with a cross; the figures of ss. peter and paul and the four evangelists; st. anthony of padua and another monk holding up a cross, and figures of angels, each holding in uplifted hands a cross." [illustration shrine of st. werburgh] we will now proceed to the _monastic buildings_, which are of great importance. they are situated on the north side of the cathedral, and are approached through a norman doorway in the north aisle. turning to the left we see some good norman arcading. the tombstones of some of the earlier abbots are seen here. the south walk is entirely new, having been restored by scott. the west walk adjoins a fine early norman chamber, probably the great cellar of the abbot's house. the cloisters are perpendicular work. in the south and west walks there is a double arcade on the cloister-garth side, which contained the _carrels_ or enclosed studies of wainscot, where the monks read or wrote, and on the opposite side are recesses which are not tombs, but _armaria_ or cupboards, where their books and materials for illuminations were stored. in the perpendicular period the roof of the cloisters was raised, which was not an advantage, as it caused the aisle windows and those of the refectory to be partly blocked up, and the vaulting cuts into the earlier work. the _lavatorium_ is near the entrance to the _refectory_, an early english building with perpendicular windows. it is a noble structure, shorn of some of its length, and now used as a music room. the stone pulpit is remarkably fine, of early english design, which rivals the famous pulpit of beaulieu abbey. in the east walk we see the doorway leading to the _vestibule_ of the chapter-house. it consists of a cusped arch, and three small windows are above it; on the centre one the dog-tooth ornament is used. both the vestibule and the chapter-house are fine examples of early english. in the former light, graceful piers support the vaulting without capitals, the mouldings being continued along the piers and vaulting in a very beautiful manner. the _chapter-house_ is a noble chamber. its shape is oblong, and it was built about 1240. there is a fine east window of five lights; and windows of three lights are on the north and south sides, and have detached shafts. the glass is modern, and represents the chief persons associated with the history of the cathedral. here is stored the library, which is not rich in treasures of bibliography. there is a fair collection of the fathers and liturgical works, a book which belonged to bishop pearson and higden's _polyolbion_. dimensions length, 355 ft.; length of nave, 145 ft.; width of nave, 75 ft.; height, 78 ft.; height of tower, 127 ft. principal building dates norman (1093-1140)--north wall of north aisle and doorways, part of north-west tower, north transept, part of canons' vestry, cellar in monastic buildings; early english (1266-1300)--lady chapel, choir, part of north choir aisle, chapter-house, refectory; decorated (1300-1400)--abbey gate, south and lower part of north nave, windows of south aisle, part of south transept; perpendicular (1472-1500)-tower, upper part of north of nave, east of north choir aisle, west front, south porch, part of south transept and some windows; choir recased (1689-1707). * * * * * st. john's church is well worthy of a visit. it has an important history, and was once the cathedral of the first norman bishop. it is mainly of norman construction. the massive piers are very early (1067-1105), the triforium and clerestory are transitional. a good history of the church has been written by the rev. cooper scott. liverpool cathedral liverpool is a very modern see, the bishopric having been formed in 1880. it has at length been possible to take steps to found a cathedral, and many architectural problems have to be solved by the citizens with regard to the site and the style of the new church. we trust that these will be solved satisfactorily, and that the cathedral of liverpool will be made worthy of the city. if wealth can accomplish this great achievement, there should be no difficulty in this place. the church of st. peter is at present used as the cathedral, but it has no feature of either architectural or historical interest. manchester cathedral other objects of interest rather than those of history or architecture usually attract the stranger to manchester. the great centre of modern industry, the city that brings the sea to its walls, that finds employment for tens of thousands, where the pulse of life beats fast--that is the manchester we all know. but there is another manchester of quiet and sedate ways, which is not devoid of history, which we will endeavour to read amidst the din and turmoil of this hive of industry. it is difficult to imagine that the parish "was originally a wild, unfrequented tract of woodland, inhabited merely by the boar, the bull, and the wolf, and traversed only by the hunters of the neighbouring country." under agricola, manchester became a roman station. camden tells of roman inscriptions, and many other roman remains have been found. edwin of northumbria came here, and paulinus brought christianity and thousands were baptised by him. two saxon churches were built, st. michael's and st. mary's. ina and his queen, ethelburga, sojourned here. the danes ravaged it, and edward the elder re-edified the town in 924. we find that canute came here, and the historian of the town derives knot, or knut, mill from his name. the conqueror gave the manor to roger de poictiers, but it appears to have been regranted to the greslie family. it is unnecessary to follow the history of the manor and barony. in 1235 manchester is said to have had a deanery, and peter de greleigh (greslie) held the rectory in 1261. hugh de manchester, a favourite of edward i., went on an embassage to philip of france to recover certain lands for his king. other distinguished rectors were william de marchia (1284), afterwards bishop of bath and wells, and william de langton, afterwards bishop of lichfield, the builder of the beautiful lady chapel of that cathedral; otto de grandisson, geoffrey de stoke, afterwards dean of st. paul's, london. in 1373 thomas de la warre was presented to the living, and he obtained royal licence in 1422 to found a collegiate church, consisting of one warden, eight fellows, four clerks and six choristers. the parishioners cheerfully agreed to build the new church. john huntingdon, the first warden, built the choir, and several leading families, the radcliffes, stanleys, traffords, byrons and strangeways erected chantries. the college was founded at the same time as the residence of the warden and fellows. the right of sanctuary was granted to the collegiate church, the sanctuary men bearing a cross on their hand. the college has a chequered career. in the reign of edward vi. it was dissolved and its possessions seized. under mary it was re-established, together with the chantries in the church. in the time of elizabeth the college had prolonged disputes with the town, the clergy were beaten by the populace, and one of them stabbed, and the plate and ornaments stolen. in 1578 the charter was renewed. a famous warden was dr. dee, who is well known as a dealer in magical arts, and his successor, murray, was not a very learned divine; when preaching before james i. from the text, "i am not ashamed of the gospel of christ," the monarch said the gospel of christ might well be ashamed of him. in 1617 a gallery was erected in the church, which was much dilapidated and the income impoverished. in the time of the civil war, richard heyrick was warden and sided with the parliament, the independents setting up a meeting-house at the college. manchester underwent a siege during the war, and in 1649 the chapter-house and chest were broken into by soldiers and the deeds carried off to london, where it is thought that they perished in the great fire. the college was dissolved. heyrick was a veritable "vicar of bray," and embraced all the opinions in turn of all the parties in that troublous period. the collegiate buildings were in much decay during the commonwealth period, when humphrey chetham, one of the worthiest of benefactors, conceived the idea of converting them into a school and library, and left a large sum of money for this purpose. chetham's hospital is quite the most interesting building in the city, which has retained few of its ancient edifices. lancashire folk were very faithful to the house of stuart, and in both the rebellions of 1715 and 1745 manchester took part. the young pretender was proclaimed here king james iii., and the "manchester regiment" was formed to fight in the prince's cause, and subsequently many lost their heads, some being stuck upon the exchange. the diocese of manchester was formed in 1847, and has only had three bishops--james prince lee, fraser, and the present bishop moorhouse, formerly bishop of melbourne. the exterior manchester smoke soon causes stone-work to assume a venerable appearance, and although much of the cathedral is new, its first appearance is one of an ancient edifice. manchester is a modern see, founded in 1847, but its church, as we have seen, dates back to a very respectable antiquity and has many features of special interest. it stands out well amidst the surrounding mass of modern buildings, of shops and railway stations, and seems to raise the thoughts of all who behold its beauties above the buying and selling in this busy mart of human enterprise. the present generation of merchants of manchester and the cathedral authorities have done much for their cathedral, and striven to make it worthy of its name and position as the mother church of the diocese, and all the resources of modern art have been lavished on the building. we shall see this better in the interior. the exterior also shows that very much has been done in building and decoration. there is first the new _west porch_, which has just been finished with a statue of queen victoria in the niche over the doorway. just as the burghers of the middle ages loved to enrich their churches with the triumphs of architectural art, so do the modern merchants of manchester strive to adorn their cathedral with elaborate handiwork. this new piece of work is richly carved. the style follows that of the cathedral and is mainly perpendicular. there is rich panel work, an open-work battlemented parapet, and a richly-crocketed pinnacle crowns a turret on the south side. the door itself is a very handsome piece of work. on each side of the main porch there are rooms. the _tower_ stands at the west end above the porch. there is a good west window in the lowest stage with an ogee label richly crocketed. above is the clock. in former days this clock was not noted for keeping correct time. an old gentleman was observed each morning setting his watch by it. "excuse me," said a bystander, "that clock is five minutes late." "sir," he replied, "i have set my watch by that clock for forty years, and right or wrong, i shall go by it for the rest of my life." at each corner of the tower there are three pinnacles. the windows of the church, we observe, as we pass to the south, are all perpendicular, but there is a pleasing variety in the tracery. the _south porch_ has a parvise, and was built by mr. james jardine, a distinguished citizen of manchester, in 1891. on this side there are several chapels--the brown chapel, st. george's, st. nicholas or trafford chapel, jesus chapel, the chapter-house with its pyramidal roof, the fraser chapel, a new building erected in memory of bishop fraser. the battlemented parapet on this side of the church is modern. on the east side is a tiny lady chapel with a decorated east window, which has been reproduced from the earlier design. proceeding onwards we notice the ely chapel, the derby or john the baptist's chapel, the st. james's chapel, and that dedicated to the holy trinity. the _north porch_ is similar in character to that on the south, and was erected in memory of james craven in 1888. the interior the interior of the cathedral is full of interest. we enter by the south porch, and we are at once struck by the extraordinary width of the church. on each side of the nave there are two aisles. the outer aisles both on the north and south sides were formerly separated from the rest of the church by screens, and were occupied by chapels or chantries. by a somewhat drastic restoration at the beginning of the nineteenth century these screens were removed, and the outer aisles thrown open. this procedure rendered the church more useful for congregational purposes, though we may regret the disappearance of the historic chapels, a few piscinæ being the only remains. we will commence our pilgrimage at the west end, and from this point view the length of the church, which is shrouded in "a divine religious light," perhaps a little too dim. most of the windows are filled with modern glass which is generally of beautiful design; but modern glass lacks that transparency which ancient glass has. the sunlight streams through the old glass, and it is quite possible, as at fairford, to read the smallest print; while modern glass effectually shuts out the light, and at the best too much sunlight is not usually observable in this region of smoky chimneys and polluted atmosphere. the piers of the nave are modern imitations of the original perpendicular ones, and are lofty and graceful. there is no triforium, and the clerestory is somewhat contracted. the windows have five lights of perpendicular tracery, and most of them are filled with modern glass. the roof is ancient, but has been much restored. in the distance we see the handsome choir-screen with the organ over it. the spandrels of the chancel arch are richly carved with shields in quatrefoils, and above is the tudor rose. shields adorn the spandrels of the main arches. above us is the ceiling of the tower, which is a good example of fan-tracery. the modern baptistry is on our right. passing the south porch, erected in memory of mr. james jardine, we see the extreme south aisle, formerly consisting of chantries separated from the rest of the church by screens. in a recess east of the porch was the brown chapel, and north of this st. george's chantry (to which saint, together with st. mary and st. denis, the church was formerly dedicated) founded by w. galley in 1508. at the dissolution of the collegiate institution john barlow and edward smyth, priests of this chantry, received pensions of £6 and £4, 12s. 6d. respectively. then comes the trafford or st. nicholas chantry, the priest of which received a pension of £5. the traffords of trafford are an ancient lancastrian family who have held the manor, near manchester, since the conquest, and the name of edmund trafford appears upon the list of parishioners given in the licence to erect the collegiate church. a piscina shows the position of the altar of this chantry. next follows the jesus chapel which has a fine sixteenth-century screen. it was founded by richard bexwick in 1506, being granted to him "to enjoy its privileges by james stanley, warden, and the fellows." his daughter isabel gave it to francis pendleton and cicely his wife, daughter of isabel. in 1652 it was in a ruinous condition. it is now used as the library and vestry. from this chapel another chapel founded by ralph hulme in 1507 opened, but it has been destroyed. one of this family of hulme founded in 1691 the hulmeian scholarships at oxford. next we see the entrance to the chapter-house built by james stanley (1485-1509), which is good perpendicular work. under the arch, which has panelled work in the soffit, there are two doors having four-centred arches, and above panelling. the fraser chapel, erected in memory of bishop fraser of manchester (1870-1885), "a man of singular gifts both of nature and the spirit," who won all hearts and whose memory will ever be venerated in the manchester diocese, stands on the south at the extreme east end of this aisle. it contains an admirable effigy of the bishop, who was buried in the little parish church of ufton nervet, berks, where he passed the early years of his clerical life, and for which he had tender memories. this was a college living to which he was presented by oriel college. turning to the north we enter the retro-choir and the lady chapel, originally founded by george west, youngest brother of lord delaware, who was warden of the college in 1518-1535. the last historian of the cathedral, mr. perkins, considers that west reconstructed a more ancient building, and that the style of the windows inserted in the eighteenth century in imitation of earlier ones point to an earlier date than 1518. this chapel was once known as the byron chapel, and then the chetham chapel, as it contains several memorials of that family. there is a modern statue of humphrey chetham, the founder of chetham's hospital (which we shall presently visit), who was born in 1580, and by trade "acquired opulence, while his strict integrity, his piety, his works of charity and benevolence secured him the respect and esteem of those around him."[15] he founded the school, and clothed, fed and instructed twenty-two boys, and, though never married, thus became a father of the fatherless and destitute. at the base of his statue is seated a figure of one of these youths. near this statue is the tomb of hugh birley, a member of a distinguished manchester family and a representative of the city in parliament. an ancient organ, more than two centuries old, also is in this aisle. on the north is the st. john the baptist or derby chapel, formerly called the stanley chapel, separated by an old screen from the aisle. the stanleys belong to the same family as the earls of derby. the office of warden was held by two members of the stanley family, both having the christian name of james. the second james stanley became bishop of ely, and by virtue of his will (he died 1515) this chapel and the ely chapel were built. his tomb remains, of grey marble, with a small brass figure of the bishop in his robes, with the inscription:--"off yur charite pray for the soul of james stanley, sutyme bushype of ely and warden of this college of manchestir, which decessed out of this transitore world the xxxi. daye of march, the yer of our lord mccccc. and xv., on whos soul and all christian souls jhesu have mercy." westward of this derby chapel stands the ducie chapel, dedicated to st. james, founded in 1507, and next comes the radcliffe chantry, dedicated to the holy trinity, founded by w. radcliffe in 1498. the radcliffes of radcliffe, near manchester, were an ancient race, and the ballad of "fair ellen," the daughter of one member of this family, who was slain by a cruel stepmother and her body cooked in a pie, is a gruesome legend of old lancashire. the east end of the nave is used for services, and there is a fine modern pulpit. manchester cathedral possesses some very fine carved woodwork, of which the ancient rood-screen is a good example. the organ is placed above it. on entering the _choir_ we notice the magnificently-carved stalls with rich tabernacle work, and quaint _misereres_. this is the work of james stanley (1485-1509) afterwards bishop of ely, assisted by a manchester merchant named beck. the bishop's throne is modern, and also the reredos. the three patron saints-ss. mary, george and denys--appear in the niches. in accounting for this triple dedication randle holme states that to st. mary was the earlier church dedicated, and that thomas delaware, "being partly a frenchman, and partly an englishman," selected st. dionysee, ye patron saint of france, and st. george, the patron saint of england, as patrons of his new cathedral. this does not seem probable, and it is more likely that the claim of henry v. to the crown of france at the time of the founding of the college suggested the additional dedication. the windows have all modern glass. formerly there was some curious ancient glass; in the east window of the south aisle, michael and his angels fighting with the dragon; in the east window of the north aisle, ss. augustine and ambrose chanting the _te deum laudamus_; in the clerestory were pictures of the virgin; and then there were some curious representations of the trinity. these have all disappeared. of the modern ones, the most interesting, perhaps, is the gordon window in the north aisle. john huntingdon, the builder of the present choir (1422-1459), lies buried in it, and formerly his tomb was inscribed with the words: _domine, dilexi decorem domus tuæ_, and there was a brass with this inscription: _hic jacet johan huntingdon bacc in decr. prim. magister sive custos istius collegii qui de novo construxit istam cancellam, qui obiit ix. mo die xi. bris mcccclviii., cujus animæ proprietur deus_. we could not discover this brass, but on each side of the lady chapel entrance is the rebus of the founder, on one side a man hunting, on the other a tun, which "hieroglyphical quiddity" makes hunting-ton. * * * * * crossing the street to the north is a profoundly interesting building, known as the _chetham library and hospital_, of which manchester may be justly proud. its chequered history has already been partially told, and carries us back to the days when the college of warden and fellows, chaplain and choir-boys, lived here. now, as we have seen, it is the school, with a noble library attached, founded by that worthy merchant, humphrey chetham. as a baron's hall, an ecclesiastical establishment, and a remarkable school, the building presents many features of unique interest, and the grand library is worthy of minute inspection. dimensions length of nave and choir 172 ft. width of nave and aisles 114 ft. length of choir and lady chapel 88 ft. height of roof 50 ft. height of tower 140 ft. area 18,000 sq. ft. principal building dates (1422-1458)--choir. (1465-1509)--nave rebuilt, stalls and canopies, chapter-house, chantries of st. george, st. nicholas, jesus, ducie and radcliffe. (1518-1535)--lady chapel, ely chapel. modern--baptistry, north and south and west porches, fraser chapel, throne, reredos and glass. footnote: [15] baine's _lancashire_, vol. ii., p. 365. carlisle cathedral this northern city has had a noted history. it was a town of considerable importance under the romans, and on their departure was captured by the furious picts. it has been a city of sieges. egfrid of northumbria rebuilt it in the seventh century, and granted it to st. cuthbert, but the danes sacked and plundered it. william rufus again rebuilt and fortified it, but david, king of scotland, captured the place, and died within its walls in 1153. two more sieges it again endured, and was at length taken in 1217. here came edward i. frequently on his marches to conquer the scots, and held parliaments here, and near here he died. a goodly company of nobles hastened here to do homage to his son. after the disaster of bannockburn robert bruce besieged carlisle, and had his quarters in the cathedral, which is outside the city walls, but he failed to gain the city. the bishops of carlisle were sometimes warlike men, and took the field against the dread invaders from the north. the old castle has seen much of fighting, and it had a notable prisoner in the person of ill-fated mary queen of scots. a long siege, lasting eight months, took place in the civil war time, and in that time terrible damage was done to the cathedral, as we shall see. again, in the rebellion of 1745, "bonnie prince charlie" captured the place, and there was a great flourish of trumpets, or rather bagpipes, until the king's forces came and put an end to the poor campaign. the cathedral was again used as military quarters, and the prisons of the castle tell the sad story of the fate of the rebels. the ecclesiastical history of carlisle reflects its civil history. as we have said, st. cuthbert of lindisfarne and his successors ruled over this city and district for many years. when william ii. restored the city and raised the castle, one walter, a noble and wealthy priest, who was left as governor by the king, set to work to build a church and priory. but death stayed his hand, and henry i. completed the task, and established here a monastery of augustinian canons in 1121. in 1133, on the advice of thurstan, archbishop of york, he established a see here, and udelulf became the first bishop. the cathedral, begun by walter and finished by henry i., was of the usual norman character. its plan was cruciform, and it had a nave with aisles, transepts with a low tower at the crossing. the architect was hugh, bishop (1218-1223), formerly abbot of beaulieu, hants, who brought with him to carlisle the traditions of a splendid style of architecture. in the early part of the thirteenth century the norman choir was taken down, and rebuilt in the early english style. two fires did much damage, especially the one that raged in 1292. the work of rebuilding was at once commenced, and a more imposing plan was projected, but a long time elapsed before it was completely carried out. at length, about the middle of the fourteenth century, the choir was completed in the decorated style, a new triforium, clerestory roof and east end being erected. the late decorated east window, which was finished at this time, is one of the most beautiful in the world. fire again injured the cathedral in 1392, especially the north transept, which was restored by bishop strickland (1400-1419), who also rebuilt the tower above the roof, and crowned it with a wooden spire. the monastery was dissolved at the reformation, and a cathedral establishment formed, consisting of a dean and canons. in mary's reign owen oglethorpe was made bishop, who, "being a good-natured man and pliable," according to fuller, crowned queen elizabeth, "which the rest of his order refused to do." he was, however, deprived on account of "certain principles of stubbornness instilled into him." the civil war did terrible damage to the cathedral. during the siege puritan soldiers were quartered in the sacred building, "who did after their kind," and, moreover, after the capture of the city, in order to repair the fortifications, they pulled down a great portion of the nave, and used the stones for that purpose. in the rising of 1745 charles edward, the pretender, as we have said, occupied carlisle, and installed in the cathedral, as bishop of the see, a romanist named james cappoch. when the duke of cumberland arrived and recaptured the city, cappoch allowed himself to be taken prisoner, and was hanged. the church was again used as a barracks, and many of the poor jacobite prisoners were confined here. since then there have been sundry restorations, some very deplorable, one about the middle of the eighteenth century, which were happily effaced, as far as possible, by the work of the middle of the nineteenth. but the hand of the restorers has fallen rather heavily upon the beautiful work of the choir, and destroyed much of its delicate beauty. the architects of 1850 had not yet learned to respect the antiquity of the buildings which fell into their hands to restore, and carlisle and many other churches have suffered much from their drastic treatment. the exterior a good view is obtained from the castle. the usual approach is from the east end, whence we observed the grand east window with its beautiful late decorated tracery. it is flanked by buttresses, with niches and crocketed pinnacles. in the niches are statues of ss. peter, paul, james and john. a floriated cross crowns the gable, and on each side are four similar crosses. in the gable is a triangular window, having three trefoils, and below is a niche with figure of the virgin. the _central tower_, built by bishop strickland (1400-1419) on the old norman piers, is too small for the huge choir, and lacks dignity. formerly it was crowned with a wooden spire, but this has been removed. there is a turret set at the north-east angle, and in the north side is a niche with the figure of an angel. the lower part of the _choir_ is early english, with the exception of a perpendicular window at the west, and a decorated one in the east bay. the _clerestory_ is late decorated, and the windows have flowing tracery. the ball-flower ornament is extensively used in the cornice. the sculpture at carlisle is worthy of notice. carved heads and curious gargoyles abound. the _north transept_ is nearly all modern. it was rebuilt by strickland in the fifteenth century, and again rebuilt when the church was restored. there is, however, an early english window in the west wall. on the east side there was formerly a chapel, which has not survived the repeated alterations. the greater part of the _nave_ was taken down by cromwell's soldiers. what is left is of unmistakable norman character. there is some modern imitation work, and late architectural detail. most of the windows are modern, and also the doorway. the west end is the result of modern restoration. the south side is similar to the north. the _south transept_ preserves the old norman walls. on the south is a modern doorway with a window over it. on the east is _st. catherine's chapel_, a late early english or early decorated building. the south side of the choir is similar to the north, and presents early english details of construction. the monastic buildings once stood on the south side of the church, but they have been pulled down with the exception of the fratry and gatehouse, the stone being used for repairing the fortifications of the city by puritan soldiery. the refectory, or fratry, was rebuilt in the fifteenth century, and is now used as a chapter-house. there is a fine reader's pulpit here. the gateway was erected by prior slee in 1527. the deanery is a fine old house, and was formerly the prior's lodging. it was rebuilt in 1507. [illustration carlisle from s e] the interior the _nave_ was formerly used as the parish church of st. mary, and was filled with high pews and galleries. these have all been cleared away, and it is possible to admire the plain and massive norman building, which now, alas! consists of only two bays, the rest having been destroyed in the civil war period. before that act of vandalism there were eight bays. the work before us, for the most part, belongs to the earliest church, begun by walter, finished by henry i. about 1130. formerly a low ceiling shut out the triforium and clerestory from our view, but this, too, has happily been removed. the piers are low (14 feet high, 17 feet in girth), the arches being semi-circular, some of the capitals having evidently been carved later with some early english foliage. the triforium consists of plain, open, round-headed arches, and is a little later than the main arcade. the clerestory has in each bay three arches, resting on shafts with carved capitals. the west end is modern. the tattered colours of the cumberland regiment tell of the indian mutiny, and there is a window in the south aisle to the memory of the men who died in that melancholy time. sir walter scott was married in this nave, when it was a church, in 1797, to miss margaret charlotte carpenter. the font is modern and also the organ. the _north transept_ was rebuilt by bishop strickland in the fifteenth century, and its north end was again rebuilt in modern times. here a large modern window of decorated design has been erected in memory of five children of archbishop tait, who died here of scarlet fever when dr. tait was dean. in the west wall is an early english window, which is a good example of plate-tracery. the arch of the choir aisle is decorated; the roof is modern. crossing over to the south transept we notice the piers which support the _tower_. these are norman, and have additional columns erected by bishop strickland when he rebuilt the tower. the latter have foliated capitals, and are in the perpendicular style. on the capitals of the eastern arch are the badges of the percy family--the crescent and fetterlock. the most famous scion of this house--hotspur--was governor of carlisle. on the western side are the rose and escallop shell, badges of the dacres and nevilles. the _south transept_ is both narrow and shallow, being only one bay in length. the east side is norman work; there is an arch with zigzag ornament and cushion capitals, opening into the choir aisle. a second norman arch opens to st. catherine's chapel. the window and door on the south are both modern, and have much elaborate decoration, which is scarcely in keeping with the norman work surrounding it. the triforium and clerestory resemble those of the nave. _st. catherine's chapel_ stands on the site of a norman chapel, and is in the early decorated style or late early english. it was founded by john de capella, a wealthy citizen, and is now used as a vestry. the screen is late decorated, and is of great beauty. the doorway between the aisle and chapel formerly led to a well, now closed. "a similar well exists in the north transept, but has been long covered. besides supplying water for the use of the church, such wells may have been of special service in border churches, which, like this of carlisle, served as places of refuge for the inhabitants in cases of sudden alarm or foray" (murray's handbooks). the following monuments are in the transepts:-robert anderson, "the cumberland bard" (1833); bishop fleming (1747): prior senhouse (_temp._ henry vii.); and there is a curious runic inscription, written in norse, which, being translated, is: "tolfihn wrote these runes on this stone." we now enter the _choir_ by the door in organ-screen. this is one of the finest in england--spacious, lofty, well-proportioned and rich in all its details. the arches of the main arcade are early english, as the mouldings and dog-tooth ornament testify. these remained after the fire of 1292, and were retained. the piers are early decorated, and were evidently built to support the arches after the fire. the capitals were carved later in the late decorated period, when the upper parts of the choir, triforium, clerestory, roof and east end were rebuilt. the builders were probably bishops welton and appleby (1353-1395). when the choir was rebuilt in early english times, the architect determined to enlarge it, and as the monastic buildings on the south prevented any expansion in that direction, the south piers of the choir retained their old position, while the north were moved further northward, and a new north aisle added. thus the choir and the tower and nave are not quite symmetrical, and there is a blank wall at the north-west end of the choir which is thus accounted for. the details of the architecture of the choir merit close attention, especially the sculpture. small figures of men, animals and monsters are mingled with the foliage. there are some admirable representations of the seasons, beginning with the second capital on the south, counting from the east end. there is a very fine timber roof, constructed about the middle of the fourteenth century. the scheme of colour decoration is, unfortunately, not original. the _east window_ is one of the finest decorated windows in the kingdom. the stone-work is new, but it is believed to be an exact reproduction of the original. it has nine lights. the glass of the upper portion is ancient, dating from the reign of richard ii. it represents the resurrection, final judgment and the new jerusalem. hell is depicted with the usual mediæval realism. below is modern glass, representing scenes from the life of our lord. the _stalls_ are late perpendicular, erected by bishop strickland, and are excellently carved. the tabernacle work is generally attributed to prior haithwaite (_circa_ 1433). there are some quaint and curious _misereres_, the carvings representing grotesque monsters, such as dragons and griffins, fables such as the fox and the goose, and a great variety of subjects. a renaissance screen, erected by salkeld, the last prior, divides the west bay of the presbytery from the north choir aisle. the altar, throne, lectern and pulpit are modern. there is a fine brass to the memory of bishop bell (1495) on the floor of the choir. passing to the _north choir aisle_ we notice the early english character of the arcade and windows. the latter have two lights, and have deep mouldings and dog-tooth ornament. the wall arcade is particularly graceful. the last bay eastward was built when the east window was erected, and is late decorated, and in the last bay west-ward there is a perpendicular window. the vault was constructed after the fire of 1292. the two sepulchral recesses in the north wall are remarkable. they are of early english character, and have a chevron moulding which is said to be unique. it is conjectured that the effigy in one of these recesses is that of silvester of everdon (1254), and that the other was intended for bishop hugh of beaulieu, who died in burgundy. in another bay is an aumbrey wherein treasures of plate and other valuables were stored. there is a late brass to the memory of bishop robinson (1416), formerly provost of queen's college, oxford. archdeacon paley (1791), the learned divine whose _evidences of christianity_ is still a divinity text-book at cambridge, lies buried here. the curious paintings on the back of the stalls, of late fifteenth-century execution, always interest visitors to the cathedral. they illustrate the lives of st. anthony and st. cuthbert, with descriptive verses under each scene, and there is a set of figures of the apostles with the words of the apostles' creed traditionally assigned to each. the _retro-choir_ is very narrow and is of the same date as the window. bishop law's monument is here (1787), carved by t. banks, r.a. the _south choir aisle_ resembles that on the north. the two western windows are later than the early english ones in the opposite aisle. there are monuments here of bishop waldegrave (1869), bishop barrow (1429) (or welton, 1362), bishop goodwin (1891), dean close (1882). the screen here is like that opposite by prior gondibour, who did so much to decorate his cathedral, and to whom the paintings are assigned. the back of the stalls on this side has a representation of scenes from the life of st. augustine, or, as curious descriptive verses call him, the "gret doctor austyne." dimensions length of nave 39 ft. breadth of nave 60 ft. height of nave 65 ft. length of choir 134 ft. breadth of choir 72 ft. height of choir 72 ft. height of tower 112 ft. area 15,270 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1092-1130)--south transept, piers of central tower, part of nave. early english (1219-1260)--walls and windows of choir aisles, part of main arcade of choir, st. catherine's chapel. early decorated (1292)--part of main arcade of choir. late decorated (1353-1395)--upper part of choir, east end and roof. perpendicular (1400-1419)--upper part of tower. newcastle cathedral the see of newcastle was created in 1882, as the result of the spiritual expansion of the church of england which caused the formation of so many new sees. in the days when england and scotland were separate kingdoms, and when wars between the two countries were not infrequent, newcastle occupied a position of great strategic importance. here was a strong castle--the "new castle"--founded by henry ii. on the site of an older structure built in 1080 by the son of the conqueror. it was the mightiest castle in the north of england, and its keep is one of the finest specimens of norman military architecture remaining in the country. in this fortress baliol was brought to do homage for the crown of scotland to edward i. the keep is still standing, and also the chapel, a fine specimen of late norman architecture. many roman remains have been found here. the cathedral was formerly the old parish church of st. nicholas. the style is principally late decorated. an older church was burned down in 1216. it consists of nave, aisles, chancel and transept. the total length is 245 feet, and the width 128 feet. the transept is perpendicular in style, and so is the fine tower with spire built in 1474, which is the principal feature of the church. frequent restorations have taken place and a very extensive renovation was effected in 1876 at a cost of £30,000. admiral collingwood, the comrade of nelson, is buried here. the norman church of st. andrew and the church of st. john of the fourteenth century, with an ancient font, are the principal old churches in the town, and also the chapel of 1491 attached to trinity house. the old saxon churches of jarrow and monk wearmouth are in the neighbourhood. durham cathedral durham cathedral is one of the grandest buildings in the world. standing upon the summit of a lofty hill, which rises abruptly from the river wear, its position is one of surpassing beauty, and the dignity of the building, its massive walls and towers, and the interesting associations which cluster round the venerable pile, make it one of the most superb edifices in this or any other country. the story of durham carries us back to the very early days of christianity. in spite of the efforts of paulinus the saxons of northumbria were still heathen until oswald became king in 634, who was converted to christianity by the monks of iona, where a monastery had been founded by columba, an irish saint. desiring to benefit his people, oswald sent to iona, and under st. aidan a colony of monks was founded at lindisfarne, or holy island. st. cuthbert, the patron saint of durham, succeeded, who died in 687. after the lapse of nearly two centuries the coast was harassed by the attacks of the danes, and the monks fled from lindisfarne, bearing with them their most precious relics and with these the body of st. cuthbert. they wandered far and wide with their holy burden; a hundred years elapsed; generations of monks passed away; but the bones of the saint knew no rest. for a long time they tarried at chester-le-street, which became the seat of the northumbrian bishopric; but still the savage northmen threatened them with danger, and at last in 995 the wearied monks found a shelter on the lofty and impregnable rock where the cathedral now stands, the abiding resting-place of st. cuthbert's bones. on the outside of the church there is the figure of the dun cow, which is associated with their wanderings. it was revealed to one of the monks that dunholme was to be their final home; but not knowing where this place was, they were in much distress. however, they heard a woman inquiring about her lost cow, to whom her companion replied that it was at dunholme. "that was a happy and heavenly sound to the distressed monks," says the chronicler, "and thereupon with great joy they arrived with the saint's body at dunholme in the year 997." here they raised a church of boughs to cover their precious treasure and then a stone building, and then bishop aldwin "raised no small building of stone-work for his cathedral church, when all the people between the coquet and tees three years were at work, and were paid for their pains with treasure in heaven, than which there was never a dearer or cheaper way to build churches." around this holy house the city began to grow, which owes its importance and very existence to the monastery. troublous times followed the advent of the conqueror. exasperated by the tyranny of the favourites of walcher, the first norman prelate, the people set fire to the church and slew the bishop. then followed william de st. carileph, who founded the present church. he expelled the secular clergy, and introduced the benedictine rule. for the part he took in the rebellion against william rufus he was exiled for three years, and lived in normandy. animated by the sight of the beautiful churches which there abounded he resolved to erect a more glorious edifice on the rugged hill of durham, and on his return commenced the work. the foundation stone was laid in 1093. he began to build the east end of the choir, and continued the walls as far as the first arch of the nave. after his death in 1096, the prior and convent continued the building until the advent of bishop flambard (1099-1128), who carried on the work and nearly finished the nave, aisles, western towers and doorway. the chapter-house was erected by the next bishop, galfrid rufus (1133-1140). bishop hugh pudsey (1153-1195) built the galilee chapel. in 1229 bishop poore, the builder of salisbury, was translated to durham; he discovered the unsafe condition of the eastern apsidal walls of his church, and determined to erect the beautiful chapel of the nine altars, which is such a charming specimen of early english architecture. he did not live to carry out his design, which was continued after his death under the rule of prior melsanby. the priors of durham rivalled the bishops in their zeal for perfecting their noble cathedral. prior darlington erected a belfry, and prior fossor part of the monastic buildings and the west windows of the nave in 1342. bishop skirlaw (1388-1405) was the chief builder of the present cloisters. in 1429 the tower was struck by lightning, and was rebuilt under the direction of prior bell. [illustration durham cathedral] the church was now complete, but like most of our cathedrals it has suffered from the evils of "restoration," and wyatt, the destructive architect of the eighteenth century, was allowed to do much damage. we shall notice his handiwork as we examine the details of the building. there seem to have been great disputes between the bishop and the monks, and the peace of this solemn sanctuary was often disturbed by angry quarrels and open violence. sometimes the scots made incursions, and on one occasion william cumin seized the castle and committed great ravages. in the time of bishop hatfield was fought the great battle of neville's cross, when, by the aid of st. cuthbert and his banner, the english won the day, and a hymn of thanksgiving is still sung every year on the top of the tower. the choir used to sing on all the four sides, but on one occasion a choir-boy fell, and ever since they only chant the hymn from three sides. the bishops of durham were great men, holding the rank of temporal princes or counts palatine. their courts were independent of the king, and they could coin money and live as they listed. moreover, many of them were mighty warriors. bishop anthony bek took part in the scottish wars, and had a vast army of knights and men-at-arms. it was not until the year 1836 that the dignity of count palatine was removed from the holders of the durham see. cardinal wolsey was bishop here for six years, but never set foot in his diocese. the monastery was suppressed by henry viii., and a dean and chapter appointed. many learned and good men have held the see of durham, and the names of the last two bishops--lightfoot and westcott--will always be held in esteem. the exterior as we approach the church from the palace green we notice the grand norman building, which is much the same as when bishop carileph left it. at the east end there is the early english nine altar chapel, at the west the galilee; the upper portions of the towers, the north porch and a few windows are the only additions, and the whole appearance of the church is at once bold, stern and commanding. the _central tower_, the work of prior bell, was built in 1471. the bell ringer's gallery divides it into two portions, with two windows in each, the lower ones being glazed and the upper louvred. the panelled work, the ogee-shaped labels and the surmounting parapet proclaim their perpendicular style. two _octagonal towers_ of norman character rise at the north corners of the north transept. the _western towers_ are norman as far as the level of the nave roof, the upper portion being added in the thirteenth century, and the pinnacles and parapets at the end of the eighteenth. we have already alluded to the construction of the east end, which replaced the apsidal termination of the original building. the famous rose window is in the gable of the east end, and beneath are nine lofty lancet windows. notice the sculpture of the dun cow in the north angle of the nine altars, placed there in 1775. the _porch_ was built by wyatt, and we can endorse the decision of canon greenwell, durham's great historian, that "in its present condition it is a most unworthy and discreditable portal for so magnificent a temple as that into which it ushers the worshipper." the woodwork is ancient, and here we see the famous sanctuary knocker, which criminals used when they wished to gain an entrance and secure the rights of sanctuary from mob violence or secular law. two porters were employed in watching for fugitives, and directly the refugee knocked he was admitted, clad in a black cloth gown, with a yellow cross on his left shoulder, conducted to a chamber near the south door of the galilee chapel, and given shelter for thirty-seven days. at the west end there is the _galilee chapel_, of late norman work, which covers the west door, over the main entrance. this door, walled up by cardinal langley in the fifteenth century, and re-opened in 1845, was made by flambard (1099-1128). it has thirteen detached cartouches, each having an animal or flower within it, and is adorned with chevron ornament. the window was inserted by prior fossor (1342-1374), and contained coloured glass, represented "the stem of jesse," which was destroyed at the reformation. in 1867 dean waddington restored the glass, reproducing the old design. the arch-destroyer, wyatt, actually proposed to remove the galilee chapel, and make a carriage drive to the west door; but happily his nefarious design was frustrated. there are two south doorways; the one opposite the north door, known as the monks' door, was erected by bishop pudsey, and has fine carvings of floral and other designs upon the arches and columns. the mouldings and sculptures are most profuse, the zigzag and double chevron and diaper being extensively employed. the leaf pattern is observed on the arch, and the iron-work of the door is a fine specimen of norman workmanship. the other doorway, known as the prior's door, is of the same date, but the carving is much decayed. we will now examine the _cloisters_, enclosed on the north by the walls of the cathedral, on the south by the refectory, on the east by the chapter-house, deanery and south transept, and on the west by the dormitory, now, together with the refectory, used as the library, and beneath it the so-called crypt, which was the common hall of the monks. the present buildings were erected by bishop skirlaw in the early years of the fifteenth century, the refectory being restored at the restoration. a stone laver or conduit stood in the centre of the cloister erected in 1432, the basin only remaining. the _chapter-house_ was a victim to wyatt's misdoings, and the greater part was pulled down by him. it has, however, been recently restored in memory of bishop lightfoot, and is a noble chamber, having an apsidal termination at the east end, an arcade of interlacing arches running round the wall, and round-headed windows. the library and museum contains many objects of great interest, including a number of roman altars and tablets, saxon crosses and carved stones, remarkable for their beautiful scroll-work. there is the famous ruthwell cross, memorial crosses of the four last saxon bishops, hadrian stone from the roman wall, the monastic dining-table, a remarkable treasure-chest, with five different locks and keys, and--most interesting of all--the remains of st. cuthbert's coffin, his robes, and other relics taken from his tomb. amongst these we notice his stole and maniple and pectoral cross. in another case we see three rings of the first norman bishops, and the crozier of bishop flambard. durham has many interesting mss., amongst others the book of the landisfarne gospels, brought away by the monks when they fled from holy island, which fell into the waves and still retains the stains of sea water; a ms. of the seventh century, which once belonged to the venerable bede, and the bede roll (1456 and 1468), containing a list of all the religious houses in england and abroad which were asked for prayers for the souls of priors ebchester and burnaby. the roof is remarkably fine. the interior as we stand at the west door we get a magnificent view of this noble edifice, with its grand norman cylindrical pillars, 23 feet in circumference, some adorned with zigzag furrows, others lozenge-shaped, with narrow ribs, or spiral, and arches round and carved, with rolls and chevron moulding. the capitals are cushioned, and cut octagonally. above is the triforium, composed of large arches, enclosing two smaller ones, with cushioned capitals; and higher still the clerestory, composed of single round-headed windows, surmounted by the vaulting ribs, adorned with chevrons. this nave and aisles were built by bishop flambard (1099-1128). the roof of stone vaulting was finished in 1133, and durham is said to be the only cathedral in england which retains the original stone norman vaulting over the nave. [illustration the galilee chapel] the _sanctuary chamber_, wherein the hunted fugitives from justice found a shelter, formerly stood near the south door of the galilee chapel, but all traces have been removed. the font is modern, the subjects carved on it representing scenes from the life of st. cuthbert. the canopy was erected by bishop cosin in 1663. the internal north doorway should be examined, especially the beautiful foliage-work. in the lozenges and mouldings there are some strange creatures represented--a centaur shooting with bow and arrow, a boy being whipped, a man riding a lion, and other curious subjects. before proceeding eastward we will see the galilee chapel, which was the lady chapel, a beautiful specimen of late norman work, erected by bishop pudsey in 1175. lady chapels usually stand at the east end, but no women were allowed to enter churches dedicated to st. cuthbert, who has been accused of misogyny. we notice in the nave a boundary stone, beyond which no female foot might go in the direction of the high altar. we mark a change in the style of architecture from that used in the nave. the arches and columns are lighter, with graceful capitals, on which the volute appears. the style is approaching that of the graceful period of early english. cardinal langley (1406-1437) made extensive alterations in this chapel, heightening the walls, erecting a new roof, inserting perpendicular windows, closing the west door of the church, and making two other entrances. all visitors will approach with reverence and interest the tomb of the venerable bede, the great anglo-saxon scholar, and the father of english history. his bones were once covered with a splendid shrine, which the iniquitous commissioners of henry viii. destroyed. now a plain marble slab, with the inscription: "_hac sunt in fossa bædæ venerabilis ossa,_" alone marks the grave of this illustrious man. the altar of the virgin stood in the great western doorway, which was then walled up, of which the stone slab carved with the five crosses, the aumbrey and some colouring alone remain. the builder of this chapel, cardinal langley, lies buried here, and his monument remains. some much-damaged mural paintings mark the site of the altar of our lady of pity. the paintings are supposed to represent st. oswald and st. cuthbert. there is some uncertainty about the origin of the name "galilee." most probably it arose from the custom of the monks to go in procession at certain times around the church, and to halt at certain stations in memory of our lord's appearance after his resurrection. his last appearance was on a mountain in galilee; it is therefore not improbable that the place where the procession made its final halt should receive that name. here in ancient times the consistory court held its sittings, and here the commissioners of henry viii. met and destroyed, or appropriated, the rich store of treasures, the vestments, plate and ornaments which had been given to the cathedral by countless generations of pious benefactors. again entering the nave in the south aisle, we see the neville monuments, which have been much mutilated by the scottish prisoners, or during the reformation period. between the fifth and sixth pillars is an altar tomb to the memory of lord john neville and his wife matilda (1386), daughter of hotspur. the matrix of the brass of bishop robert neville (1438-1457) is in front of this. in the next bay is the altar tomb of lord ralph neville and his wife, lady alice (1374), who founded the neville chapel. holes in the pillar show where the iron grating stood which divided the chapel from the rest of the church, and in this enclosure there was "an altar with a fair alabaster table above it, where mass was daily celebrated." traces of the colouring which once adorned this beautiful chapel can still be seen. leaving the nave, we enter the _transepts_, which were part of carileph's work. the large window in the north transept was inserted by prior fossor (1341-1374), and is in the decorated style. prior castell in 1512 restored the window, and filled it with coloured glass representing the four doctors--ss. augustine, ambrose, gregory and jerome. hence it is known as the window of the four doctors. in the south transept is the large perpendicular _te deum_ window, erected about 1450. some of the glass is ancient, but the greater part was inserted in 1869 in memory of archdeacon thorp. altars stood formerly in the aisles at the north and south extremities of the transepts. traces of colour may still be seen, and the remains of some brackets which contained sculptured figures. chantrey's fine monument of bishop barrington (1791-1826) stands in the south transept. the whole of the lantern _tower_ is of the perpendicular style, and was probably built by prior bell (1464-1478). a gallery surrounds the lower stage, supported by grotesque heads. the tudor flower ornament may be observed on the string-course over the panelling. the screen is modern, and was designed by sir gilbert scott. passing into the choir, the earliest part of the building, we see the norman work of carileph blended with the later early english style. as we have already noticed, the east end of the norman church terminated with apses. these were subsequently removed. the whole choir comprehends four pillars on each side, two of them clustered and two round, the latter of which are cut in a spiral form. the roof was new vaulted by prior horton, who succeeded in 1289, the ribs of the vaulting being decorated with the dog-tooth mouldings. the work around the altar is all early english. clustered pillars divide the nine altars from the choir, decorated with foliage. in the year 1650 a large number of scottish prisoners were confined in the cathedral, who did much damage to the internal fittings. in order to gain fresh air, or for love of mischief, they broke most of the windows, and the holes in the floor in the south transept show where they made their fires for cooking their meals. another mark of their presence was the destruction of the woodwork of the choir, which they doubtless used for firewood. at the restoration bishop cosin erected the present stalls. the _misereres_ are worthy of remark--lions, mermaids, monsters, apes, peacocks and dolphins being the most striking subjects. the modern lectern and pulpit are both very beautiful, the former being designed after the ancient lectern described in the _rites of durham_. the altar-screen is very graceful and beautiful, and was originally erected by lord neville of raby in 1380, and much restored in 1876. it was originally painted, and the 107 niches were filled with images. the matrix of an immense brass to the memory of bishop beaumont (1318-1333) is seen near the altar steps. it must have been one of the largest brasses in england, and resembles the immense one at lynn, norfolk. the choir is paved with mosaics similar to those of the confessor's chapel at westminster. [illustration the bishop's throne] the magnificent tomb of bishop hatfield (d. 1381) is on the south side of the choir. he is habited in his episcopal dress. the outer garment is the chasuble, and beneath it the linen alb or surplice. his hands are covered with episcopal gloves, embroidered on the back; on his left arm is the maniple. the tomb was originally gilded and coloured. above is the throne erected by him, the highest in england. the monument of bishop lightfoot stands opposite. the _north and south aisles of the choir_ are similar in their architectural features to the choir itself, showing the blending of the stately norman with the graceful early english work. the monks used frequently to resort to the north aisle, where was a porch having an altar, with a rood and pictures of st. mary and st. john, where they sang mass daily. certain holes in the stone mark the place of the porch, sometimes called the anchorage. bishop skirlaw's tomb stood between the third and fourth piers, before the old altar of st. blaze. his monument has disappeared, but the stone bench remains, erected by him for his almsmen to sit upon. in the _south aisle_ the doorway of the great vestry remains, though the building was destroyed in 1802. the grave cover of the prior of lytham, a cell belonging to durham, is preserved here. here also stood the famous black rood of scotland, captured from king david bruce of scotland at neville's cross (1346). and now we will enter the _chapel of the nine altars_, at the extreme east of the building. it was commenced in 1242, and the architect was richard de farnham, probably a relation of nicholas de farnham, then bishop. prior melsanby (1233-1244) presided over the erection of the building, and the name of the master-mason is preserved on an inscription: _thomas moises_. we notice the nine-lancet windows (under each of which stood an altar separated from its neighbour by screens and partitions of wainscot); the large rose window, "restored" by wyatt; the beautiful arcade, with its trefoiled arches and deeply-cut mouldings, raised on slender shafts of marble, and surmounted by capitals. the altars were dedicated (beginning on the south side) to st. andrew and st. mary magdalene; st. john the baptist and st. margaret; st. thomas à becket and st. catherine; st. oswald and st. lawrence; st. cuthbert and st. bede; st. martin and st. edmund; st. peter and st. paul; st. aidan and st. helen; st. michael, the archangel. forty years were consumed in building this chapel, and the style developed as the work progressed. the north end was finished last, as we see from the noble double-traceried window, one of the finest in existence. the south windows are perpendicular. among the monuments are those of bishop bury, tutor of edward iii. (1345), and bishop bek (1310), and bishop van mildert (1836), the last of the prince bishops. behind the high altar is all that remains of the famous shrine of st. cuthbert, once the glory of durham, where countless pilgrims came to pay their devotions and offerings, and seek the protection of the saint. the cavities in the floor are said to have been worn by their feet. the grave of the saint was opened in 1827, and the vestments and other relics taken from it are kept in the library, and have already been described. on the south of the church is _the college_, containing the deanery and prebendal houses. the gate is an interesting structure, built by prior castell in 1515. the castle william the conqueror in 1072, when walcher was bishop, on his return from scotland, ordered the castle to be built, which was continued by carileph and flambard. bishop pudsey erected a new wall and a hall which bears his name, and bishop bek built the hall on the west of the courtyard. bishop hatfield rebuilt the keep. tunstall's gallery (1530-1558) connects the great hall and clock tower, and his chapel is remarkable for its beautifully-carved stalls. at the restoration the castle was in a ruinous condition. it had been sold to the lord mayor of london. the scots had plundered it; and bishop cosin set to work to rebuild and repair the home of his predecessors. in 1840 the keep was rebuilt, and the castle is now the seat of the university of durham. the most interesting _churches_ in the city are st. mary le bow (rebuilt 1685); st. mary the less (norman, but much "restored"); st. oswald (1190, with many subsequent rebuildings); st. margaret (1154); st. giles (1112). about four miles from durham are the beautiful ruins of finchale priory, which was commenced in 1240 and finished about a century later. the priory was suppressed at the reformation. dimensions of the cathedral total length, 470 ft.; length of nave, 201 ft.; width of nave with aisles, 60 ft.; height of nave, 72 ft.; length of choir, 133 ft.; length of nine altars chapel, 131 ft.; height of west towers, 144 ft.; height of central tower, 218 ft.; area, 44,400 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1093-1140)--nave, choir, aisles, west towers, doorways, chapter-house; (1153-1195)--galilee chapel. early english (1238-1275)--nine altars chapel, choir vault. decorated (1342-1346)--window in north transept and west windows of nave. perpendicular (1386-1500)--cloisters, dormitory, central tower; (1661-1684)--library. [illustration plan of durham cathedral] ripon cathedral the historical associations of ripon carry us back to very early times. alcfrid, prince of deira, was lord of the soil in the seventh century, and in 660 bestowed on eata, abbot of melrose, a portion of the ground at ripon whereon to erect a monastic foundation. after the expulsion of the scottish monks the same prince gave the monastery to st. wilfrid, who, after he became archbishop, erected a church. this was of the basilican type, with which st. wilfrid had made himself familiar during his sojourn in italy. with the earlier monastery was associated the holy cuthbert, who was the hostillar. wilfrid was ordained at ripon, and here he resided when his episcopal seat was usurped by ceadda (or chad). the site of the old monastery was on the north-east side of the present cathedral, bounded by stammer gate and priest lane. wilfrid built his new monastery about 200 yards west of the old buildings. there is some doubt about the position of his church. it is the pronounced opinion of the learned that the famous saxon crypt under the present church is really his work. did he build an earlier church, and that which stood over this crypt later? possibly so--but, in all probability, we may conclude that the monastic buildings only occupied the site on the west of stammer lane, and that his church stood over his crypt. this church was a very famous one. it is recorded that he brought workmen from italy, who wrought in the roman manner. it was fashioned after the model of a basilica, and constructed with wrought stones from the foundation, and had divers pillars and porticoes. it was dedicated to st. peter, and splendid was the feast of the dedication. here st. wilfrid, after all the trials of his wandering life, was buried. for a brief space ripon enjoyed the rank of an episcopal city, being so raised by archbishop theodore, and then for a thousand years the see was in abeyance, until in 1836 another bishop of ripon was appointed. but much happened during this long interval. when the danes terrified the land, in 995, came bishop aldune, bearing the body of st. cuthbert, and stayed here three months until they set out and found peace at durham. before this odo of canterbury, coming into these northern parts, had pity on the desolation of ripon church, wrought by the "harrying" of eadred of northumbria in 948, and caused a new work to be edified where the minster now is. after the conquest hard was the hand of william pressed upon his northern subjects, who liked not his yoke, and all this land was devastated by the norman conquerors. but with the conquest came peace, and soon some building was evidently set on foot here, though the chroniclers are silent. in later norman times archbishop roger de pont l'evêque (1154-1181) began the building of the existing church, incorporating some portion of the older structure. his work is transitional, and furnishes a good example of the gradual development of early english style. archbishop walter de grey (1216-1255) carried on the good work and built the west front with its flanking towers, adorned with lofty spires of timber and lead. the next alteration was carried out at the end of the thirteenth century, when archbishop john romanus determined to rebuild the eastern part of the choir, and for this purpose granted an indulgence of forty days to those who should help forward the work. this work was in all the glory of the decorated style. the scots made a ferocious raid in 1319, when the people of ripon took refuge in the church, which suffered much from the attacks of the enemy. archbishop de melton repaired some of this damage, which was chiefly confined to the roofs, screens, stalls, and other woodwork, and archbishop thoresby (1352-1373) was very eager to continue this restoration and beautify the minster. he probably built the lady chapel. a century elapsed, during which the clergy do not seem to have been remarkable for zeal or earnestness, and then the lantern tower was so much shaken and broken that the greatest part thereof had already fallen, and the rest expected to follow, and speedy remedy was found immediately necessary. archbishop booth in 1459 adopted the usual and efficacious plan of granting an indulgence of forty days to all who should assist in re-edifying the steeple. the work was immediately begun, and a great era of church building was inaugurated. the canons awoke from their lethargy and worked vigorously. they rebuilt much of the tower, and then set themselves to entirely rebuild the norman nave, which was in great decay and ruin. it was a great work, and nobly done. the fall of the tower had broken much of the woodwork of the stalls; so these indefatigable canons made new ones. it was only the dissolution of the establishment which checked their progress, and prevented them from finishing their work. the church was despoiled of all its wealth, and in elizabeth's time, when archbishop sandys applied for an endowment, he could obtain "nothing but fair and unperformed promises." elizabeth loved not this northern town, the people of which clung to the "old religion," and took an active part in the rising of 1569. many of them were hung for their pains. james i., however, restored the constitution of the collegiate chapter, and granted to it many of its old privileges and an assured income. during the civil war ripon escaped fairly well, save that the puritan soldiers broke much of the beautiful glass in the east window, and perhaps were guilty of causing other damage, of which history telleth not. in 1660 the wooden spire, which had suffered by lightning in 1593, fell, and damaged the roof of the choir. this was repaired, and the other wooden spires on the west towers removed lest they, too, should fall. since then there have been several restorations. in 1861 the church was placed in the hands of mr. scott, afterwards sir gilbert, who made a very complete renovation of the building, the details of which we will examine when we inspect the cathedral. [illustration ripon cathedral from north evening] in 1836 an episcopal see was erected at ripon, and charles langley, afterwards archbishop of canterbury, became its first bishop. the exterior although ripon is not a cathedral of the first magnitude or splendour, yet it is a stately structure, and greatly superior to many of our ecclesiastical buildings. it possesses also some features of profound interest, and the story of its building is attractive. approaching the church from the market-place by kirkgate we see the beautiful _west front_, which compares favourably with most others, except perhaps york, lincoln, peterborough and wells. it has much dignity and beauty. it consists of a gable between two square towers. the nave, built by archbishop roger, was late norman or transitional, and to this archbishop grey added this façade in the best and purest period of the early english style. in the lowest storey are three deeply-recessed doorways, with detached shafts. round and hollow mouldings are used, and the dog-tooth ornament, the hall-mark of the early english style, is plentiful. the doors are old. above are five-lancet windows, and above them another row of five lancets of unequal height. the dog-tooth is used in the mouldings. the towers have four stages. in the lowest is an arcade of trefoiled arches, and above lancets. nail-head moulding is used in the string-courses. when the spires were pulled down in 1660, battlemented parapets were added, and later the pinnacles. the whole front has been much restored. there is a fine peal of ten bells in the south tower. there were formerly some old bells, one of which is said to have been brought from fountains abbey, but these have all been recast, and their interest has vanished. the nave has six bays, and was built in perpendicular style in 1503. the south side is earlier than and superior to the north. the arches of the windows are less acutely pointed, and the buttresses have three stages, are crocketed, and have large finials. the pitch of the roof has been lowered since the nave was built. [illustration the great buttresses ripon] the _central tower_ was rebuilt on the south and east sides in perpendicular times, while the north and west retain roger's work. it was formerly capped by a spire. returning to the north side we see the north side of the nave, which is later than the south. there are six buttresses, which project widely and have two stages with crockets and finials, and grotesques. the arches of the windows both in the aisles and clerestory are very acute, and those of the latter have five lights. from this point we see the original faces of the central tower, built by roger (1154-1181), which has round-headed windows. the presence of dog-tooth shows the approach of the early english style. the _north transept_ is also part of roger's church and the best example of his work; it has round-headed windows. the parapet is later. we notice two sculptured stones in the north-west buttress, with rich scroll-work, evidently saxon, and probably taken from wilfrid's church. the doorway in the north side is remarkable, having a plain trefoil head rising from a corbel-like projection, and is flanked by three receding detached shafts with foliated capitals. the _choir_ has three bays of transitional norman work, but the windows are decorated. the remainder of this side was built late in the thirteenth century and is decorated. the east end, with its grand window, is very fine. massive buttresses stand on each side of the front with octagonal turrets. in the north turret there is a small chamber which was probably a reclusorium. the east window is flanked by heavy buttresses. the gable was rebuilt by scott. the window (51 feet by 25 feet) is a magnificent specimen of early decorated work, one of the finest in england. on the south side we see the three eastern windows are decorated as on the north, but the rest are perpendicular. on this side is a building which retains some of the earliest norman work in the cathedral, probably built by thomas of bayeaux, archbishop (1069-1100). this building has three storeys--a crypt, the chapter-house and the lady chapel (erected in the fourteenth century), which we shall examine later. the _south transept_ retains much of roger's transitional work, but the east side was altered and rebuilt in perpendicular times. on the south side is a fine doorway contemporary with the transept and resembling somewhat that on the north. [illustration the apse ripon cathedral] the interior entering by the west door we see a fine and imposing _nave_, with tall and graceful piers that support without any intermediate triforium a range of lofty windows of elaborate tracery. this nave was constructed in the perpendicular period, as we have said, and the main arcades stand on the foundation of roger's earlier church. the latter had no aisles. these the sixteenth-century builders added, taking as their western starting-point the northern and southern extremities of the west tower. hence the nave is unusually wide (87 feet), and exceeds all other cathedrals except york, chichester, winchester and st. paul's. there are many points of architectural interest. the west bays opening into the tower are early english. on either side is a lofty thirteenth-century arch, with plain mouldings, and capitals deeply undercut. above is a blind arcade of four arches enclosed in a circular arch--this occupies the triforium stage; and the clerestory has a triple window, the centre round-headed, the side ones pointed. the west end, with its ranges of lancets, is most effective. the glass is modern. the next bay shows us clearly the character of roger's church, and eastward we come to the perpendicular work of the early sixteenth century, which appears to be earlier than it really is. the traditions of the earlier style lingered on amid the hills and dales of yorkshire, while the architects and townsfolk of less remote places had developed the more familiar details of the perpendicular period. the roof is modern. the arch of the tower facing us is part of roger's church, but there is a curious mass of masonry on the south pier which was erected by the perpendicular builders, when want of funds or the dissolution of the chapter prevented the completion of the design. the contrast between the materials of the old building and the new in the nave will be noticed. the former is fashioned of yellow gritstone, the latter of white limestone. the aisles are perpendicular work erected about 1503. the vaulting is modern. in the south aisle is the font, or rather there are two fonts. the earlier one reposes in the corner, and is roger's work; the later is perpendicular. ripon is not very rich in monuments. in this same aisle there is a curious altar tomb with a slab of grey marble, upon which is carved the figure of a lion and near it that of a man kneeling. tradition states that it covered the body of an irish prince, who died here on his return from palestine, whence he had brought a lion that followed him like a dog. there is some old glass, fragments of which have been collected in the window near the font. in the _north aisle_ at the west end is the consistory court. the old _saxon crypt_ deserves close attention and has occasioned many conjectures and much antiquarian disputing. it is undoubtedly very early, and may with safety be assumed to have been part of st. wilfrid's church. after descending several steps and passing along passages, which have two niches in the wall, we arrive at a cylindrically vaulted chamber (7 feet by 11 feet), and on the north side is the famous "st. wilfrid's needle." formerly the superstition attached to it was that no unchaste woman could with safety pass through it; now we are told that if a virgin "threads the needle" she will be married within a year. this needle is only an enlargement of one of the niches which were doubtless used for lights. recent excavations have been made here, which revealed the remains of an altar, a passage round the chamber, and a quantity of bones which were probably relics. it is conjectured that this was a relic chamber, and was built under the church of wilfrid. it is impossible to touch upon all the interesting problems which this curious chamber suggests, especially as affecting the position and form of wilfrid's early saxon church. the _transepts_ retain, with the exception of the east wall of the southern member, archbishop roger's transitional work, when norman architecture was slowly developing into early english. there is a niche on the east side of each transept. a perpendicular arch forms an entrance to the _north transept_ from the north aisle, and on the north of this is a round-headed window. the triforium has two broad arches in each bay with a central detached shaft, while the clerestory has three arches, the centre round, the others pointed. in the north wall there are three round-headed windows in the highest stage. the mullions in the windows in the second stage are later insertions. on the east is the chantry of st. andrew, the markenfields' chapel. outside the aisle is the effigy of sir thomas (1497), with that of his lady, and another sir thomas lies in the chapel (notice the armour and collar). this family lost its estates in the rising in the time of elizabeth. also there is the monument of sir edward blackett of newby (1718). the _south transept_ resembles the north, except that its east side is perpendicular. the aisle is called the mallorie chapel, and there is a tablet to the memory of sir john mallorie of studley, who defended skipton castle for charles i. there are some ancient mural paintings, which may be seen when going to the library. the _choir-screen_ is perpendicular, and has beautiful enriched tabernacle work. above the door is a representation of god the father with angels. above the screen is the organ. the _choir_ is a delightful architectural study, as the work of three periods are blended here--transition norman, decorated and perpendicular. the three western bays on the north are roger's work, transitional norman. the three bays opposite were injured by the fall of the tower and renewed in perpendicular style. the rest of the choir was renewed in the decorated style of the fourteenth century. the three bays on the north resemble the work in the transept. the group of vaulting shafts is very fine. the triforium openings are glazed like the clerestory. a change was made in perpendicular times. before the triforium arches opened into the aisles, but the roof of these was lowered in 1459, and the openings filled with glass. there is some of roger's work in the other bays, the earlier work being altered and converted into that of the decorated style. in the clerestory there is tracery on the inner side of the opening as well as the outer. the foliage of the carving is very beautiful. the roof is modern, but some very interesting ancient bosses have been re-inserted. some of the subjects are:--the good samaritan, the expulsion from paradise, the virgin with lilies, the crucifixion (modern), a bishop, a king, an angel. the east window is remarkably fine, one of the best decorated windows in england. all the old glass was destroyed by cromwell's soldiers, and the modern glass is but a sorry substitute. the woodwork of the _stalls_ is for the most part of excellent fifteenth-century execution. rich tabernacle work rises at the back of the stalls. several of the eastern canopies are modern. the finials are curious; some represent an elephant and castle with figures of men fighting, and a monkey. the _misereres_ are interesting; the carvings represent many curious grotesques, fables and scripture subjects. we notice samson carrying the gates, jonah and the whale, fox and geese, lion and dogs, griffins and rabbits, etc. the _sedilia_ should be noticed. they have been restored, but much old work remains of late decorated style. a close examination of the grotesques should not be omitted. the pulpit and lectern are modern. the _north choir aisle_ follows the architecture of the choir. here once stood the famous shrine of st. wilfrid. the _south choir aisle_ is very similar to the opposite one. here is a lavatory, and a piscina at the east end marks the site of a former altar. above the west bay was a chantry chapel, now used for part of the organ. there is a monument in this aisle to dean fowler (1608). on the south is the _chapter-house_ and _vestry_. the _crypt_ below formed part of the early norman church existing here before the rebuilding by archbishop roger. it is generally attributed to thomas of bayeaux (1070-1100). the vault is supported by square pillars with plain capitals. the windows have a double splay, which is a sign of almost saxon work. the east end is apsidal. this crypt was formerly filled with bones. there are some interesting stone coffins preserved here. returning to the _chapter-house_ we notice the stone benches where the canons once sat in conclave. the vaulting is very fine, of late transitional work, almost early english. this chamber was built by roger. an arcade runs along the north wall. the windows are circular, the piers round, and have circular bosses and capitals. some curious fifteenth-century alabaster carvings are preserved here, the subjects being st. wilfrid, the coronation of the virgin and the resurrection. the _vestry_ is evidently of the same date as the chapter-house, and once formed part of the same building, the partition wall being much later. it has an apse with the remains of an altar and the treasury occupied the apse on the south. above these chambers is the _lady loft_, the date of which is uncertain; it was probably built about 1330, and is decorated in style. it is strange to find a lady chapel in this position. the room is now the library. it possesses some interesting incunabula and a few mss. dimensions total length 270 ft. length of nave 133 ft. breadth of nave 87 ft. height of nave 88 ft. length of choir 95 ft. height of tower 110 ft. length of transept 130 ft. area 25,280 sq. ft. principal building dates saxon--wilfrid's crypt. norman (1070-1100)--portions of chapter-house, vestry and crypt below. transition (1154-1181)--three bays of north side of choir, portions of nave, piers adjoining west and central towers, transepts. early english (1215-1255)--west front and west tower, vaulting of chapter-house and windows. early decorated--two eastern bays of choir and east window. perpendicular--south and east sides of central tower, east side of wall of south transept, two bays south side of choir, nave. ripon has some other important and interesting ancient buildings. there is the _hospital of st. mary magdalene_, rebuilt in 1674, with an old chapel of the twelfth century. the hospital of st. anne, founded in the fifteenth century, though rebuilt in 1869, has its old chapel, with piscina and altar stone, and there are many other old houses in this city. near here is the famous fountains abbey. york cathedral few cities can rival york in interest, dignity and importance. the ancient city of roman cæsars, the centre of saxon christianity, of danish supremacy, of mercantile enterprise, the abode of kings, the seat of an archbishopric that long contended for supremacy with canterbury, york may well claim a foremost place in english history, and possesses features of peculiar interest. professor freeman stated that "eboracum (york) holds a place which is unique in the history of britain, which is shared only by one other city in the lands north of the alps (treves)." here the emperor constantius died, here constantine the great was crowned. bishops of york were present at the councils of arles (314), nicæa and sardica, and when the christian faith died out, killed by pagan saxons, paulinus taught again the lessons of the holy cross, and baptised edwin, the king, in a little wooden church which stood on the site of the present cathedral. then christianity died down, killed by the onslaughts of fierce paganism, until at length, under the influence of oswald and the monks of iona and lindisfarne, the cross again triumphed. there was much contention between the roman faction, led by wilfrid, and the upholders of the native church, as regards customs and observances, and the influence of wilfrid predominated. wilfrid was a great builder, restored the cathedral at york and erected large churches at ripon and hexham. the danes overran northumbria, and under their rule york increased its importance and became a large and flourishing city. then came the norman conquest, and we find ældred, archbishop of york, crowning william at westminster, but his people liked not the change of rulers and rebelled. the conqueror came and ruthlessly crushed the revolt, and after his wont erected a castle to overawe his subjects. again they rebelled; the king swore deep vengeance, and terrible was the punishment inflicted on the northern kingdom. he appointed thomas of bayeaux archbishop, who set about repairing the ruined church, and built a new nave with side aisles and transepts, using the old church as a choir for the new. for years the question of the supremacy of york or canterbury disturbed the ecclesiastical affairs of england, and on one occasion at a council the metropolitan of york, finding his brother of canterbury occupying the seat of honour at the right of the papal legate, gravely sat down on the latter's lap. in the reign of henry ii. came roger de pont l'evêque, who built the new choir and crypt, removing the remains of the old saxon church. the people of york have ever been eager for fighting, revolt and riot. sometimes we find them killing jews; now disputing with the monks of st. mary's abbey, because some offending citizen had escaped their vengeance by claiming the right of sanctuary; now fighting against the scots, and even rebelling against rulers who were obnoxious to them. kings of the house of lancaster were especially hateful, and nowhere in the kingdom did reformers of religion find more bitter opponents. during the rule of walter de grey, archbishop (1216-1255), the norman transepts were removed and the present ones built, and in the reign of the edwards the old norman nave was replaced by the present one, and the chapter-house built. at this period york enjoyed much prosperity. the scottish wars brought kings here who made it the military and civil capital of the whole country. parliaments were held here. york minster saw the marriage of edward iii., and the burial of his infant son. but rebellions against the kings of the house of lancaster, the famous pilgrimage of grace against the reformed doctrines, and other risings, diminished its influence and deprived it of many privileges. york was besieged for six weeks during the civil war, and suffered much; but happily general fairfax exercised a restraining influence on his soldiers and prevented them from damaging the cathedral. although the citizens at the reformation rebelled against the "new religion," at the restoration they rebelled against the overthrow of puritanism; and again, when james ii. endeavoured to restore roman catholicism, they rebelled again, attacked the roman catholic prelate whom the king sent to them, wrested from him his silver-gilt crozier, and took it in triumph to the minster, where it remains until this day. we will now briefly trace the history of the building, which has been rightly called "the king of cathedrals." in 627 paulinus built his little wooden church for the baptism of king edwin. a year later a stone church was begun, which was finished by oswald and repaired by wilfrid. in the crypt are some of the walls of this early church, which show the "herring-bone" work of saxon builders. when the conqueror besieged york much destruction was wrought on this church. [illustration tomb of archbishop walter de grey] in 1070 archbishop thomas of bayeaux built the norman nave and transepts, and used the old church as the choir. the apse in the crypt and the core of the tower piers are the remains of this work. in 1154-1181 choir and crypt were rebuilt by roger in late norman style. in 1230-1260 the present transepts were built. in 1291-1324 norman nave was taken down and the new nave built, and also the chapter-house, vestibule, sacristy and treasury. in 1338 the west front of nave was erected. in 1361-1400 choir rebuilt and lady chapel. in 1400-1423 central tower built in place of early english lantern. in 1433-1474 north and south-western towers built. the cathedral was now complete. at the beginning of the sixteenth century the organ-screen was erected, and two disastrous fires in 1829 and 1840 necessitated considerable repairs, and in 1875 some needful restoration of the south transept was carried out. the exterior the _west front_ is "more architecturally perfect as a composition and in its details than that of any other english cathedral," and is unquestionably the best cathedral façade in this country. the lower part, with the entrances and lower windows, belongs to the early decorated period. above the windows the work is late decorated, and the towers above the roof perpendicular. numerous niches cover the surface. it is doubtful whether they ever contained statues. the principal entrance is divided by a clustered pier, and above it is a circle filled with cusped tracery. over the whole doorway is a deeply-recessed arch, and over that a gable with niches, one of which contains the statue of an archbishop, supposed to be john le romeyn, who began the nave in 1291, and other niches have figures of a percy and a vavasour, who gave the wood and stone for the building. the favourite ball-flower ornament of the decorated style is seen on the gable, and the mouldings in the arches have figures representing the history of adam and eve. above the entrance is a large eight-light window, pronounced by many to be too large even for york minster, containing very elaborate and beautiful tracery, and over it is a pointed gable. on each side of the west window are buttresses covered with panelling and niches. the noble towers, rising on each side of the west front, have buttresses similarly adorned, and each three windows, and over the second an open battlement forms a walk along the whole front. the towers have battlements and pinnacles. the south-west tower (1433-1457) was injured by fire in 1840; and the north tower (1470-1474) has the largest bell in the kingdom. [illustration chapter house herbert railton] the _nave_ is divided into seven bays by high buttresses, on the south side crowned with pinnacles. it was evidently originally intended to connect them with the clerestory wall by flying buttresses to support a stone vaulted roof. but the builders were alarmed by the great span of the roof and substituted a wooden vault. hence the flying buttresses were not needed. there are some curious gargoyles. the north side is plainer, as formerly the palace would conceal any elaborate carving. the style is decorated. the _south transept_ (1216-1241) is of early english design. the central porch is not remarkable, though the clustered shafts are very fine, ornamented with dog-tooth ornament. on each side are lancet windows, and above similar windows; higher still a large rose window, and in the gable a cusped triangular light. arcaded buttresses with octagonal turrets rise on each side. extensive restoration took place in 1871, when the old clock was removed. the _choir_ and _lady chapel_ are perpendicular work. the four eastern bays, constituting the lady chapel, are earlier than the later ones of the choir, and vary in detail. the triforium passage in the former is outside the building, and the windows are recessed. strange gargoyles, with figures of apes and demons, adorn the buttresses. the east end is mainly filled with the huge window, the largest in england, which does not leave much space for architectural detail. above it is the figure of archbishop thoresby, the builder of this part of the cathedral. panelling covers the surface of the stone, and below the window is a row of seventeen busts, representing our lord and his apostles, edward iii. and archbishop thoresby. there are two aisle windows; buttresses adorned with niches separate the aisles from the central portion, and others, capped with spires, stand on the north and south of this front. the _chapter-house_ (early decorated) is octagonal, and connected with the north transept by a vestibule, which shows by its architectural details that it was built after the completion of the chapter-house. these constitute the finest examples of decorated gothic in england. buttresses project at each angle, crowned with pinnacles. curious grotesque gargoyles are seen, and amongst them some strange-looking bears. the roof is in the form of a pyramid, and there is a battlement surrounding it. the _north transept_ (1241-1260) is a beautiful specimen of early english work. the five long lancet windows, called the "five sisters," surmounted by the seven lancets in the gable, are most effective. the _central tower_ is the largest in england, and is in the perpendicular style (1410-1433). it is 200 feet high. it has windows ornamented with ogee gables, and its surface is covered with niches and panelling. a pair of narrow buttresses support each angle of the tower, decorated with panelling. this tower is one of the greatest achievements of the fifteenth-century builders, and is one of the finest in the world. the interior _the nave._--the first impression on viewing this nave is a sense of its magnitude. archbishop romeyn and his builders determined to build a vast church which would eclipse all other rivals. they would have large windows, high, towering piers, a huge, vaulted roof, and everything that was grand and impressive. edward i. was then fighting with the scots, and made york his chief city. it was immensely prosperous, and the ecclesiastical treasury was replete with the offerings of knights and nobles, kings and pilgrims. nowhere should there be so mighty a church as york minster. in order to have space for large windows they made the triforium unusually small, which is formed only by a continuation of the arches of the clerestory windows. the design for the stone vaulted roof was never carried out. the builders feared that the great weight of a roof with so large a span would be too much for the walls, so a wooden vault was substituted. the piers have octagonal bases, and consist of various sized shafts closely connected. the capitals are beautifully enriched with foliage of oak and thorn, and sometimes a figure is seen amidst the foliage. we notice thirty-two sculptured busts at the intersection of the hood moulding with the vaulting shafts. coats of arms of the benefactors of york appear on each side of the main arches. the clerestory windows have each five lights. the old roof was destroyed by fire in 1840. the present one has a vast number of bosses representing the annunciation, nativity, magi, resurrection, besides a quantity of smaller ones. the whole scheme of decoration is most elaborate. [illustration north aisle of choir herbert railton] the west window is a noble specimen of decorated work, with its curvilinear tracery, one of the finest in the kingdom. it has been entirely restored. there are eight lights. it was glazed by archbishop melton (1317-1340). niches and arcading cover the west wall. the pinnacles are carved with figures of men and animals, and also the brackets of the niches. the aisles have stone vaulting, windows decorated like the west window, carved panels and arcading work. over the north doorway are some sculptured figures of doubtful signification. the walled-up door which led to the chapel of the holy sepulchre has a headless figure of the virgin. here is a tomb of an archbishop of late perpendicular work, with tudor flower cornice. all the other monuments have been destroyed. over the south aisle door are three sculptured representations of david killing the lion, samson and the lion with delilah cutting his hair, and a man and woman fighting. the glass of the windows should be especially noticed. most of it is either decorated or early english. the _south transept_ is the earliest part of the present cathedral (1230-1241). the finest view is obtained on entering by the south door. the extraordinary magnitude of the transepts, the five lancets with their old glass, and the beauty of the early english architecture, are most striking. the triforium is not dwarfed as in the nave, but assumes large proportions, whereas the clerestory is small. the former consists of semi-circular moulded arches, with dog-tooth ornament, each enclosing two pointed arches, and sub-divided into two similar arches. five pointed arches in each bay constitute the clerestory, with sculptured heads. clustered shafts of stone and purbeck marble form the piers. the vaulting is of wood of the fifteenth century, and the bosses are curious. a mermaid and merman, a monk and a nun, look down upon us; an arcade of pointed arches lines the walls. chantry chapels were formerly in the east aisle. on the south was ludham's chantry, archbishop (1258-1265). it contains the large modern monument of dean duncombe. next we see the chapel of st. michael with the tomb of its founder, archbishop grey (1216-1255), the builder of this transept, and near it the monument of archbishop sewal de bovill (1256-1258). the _north transept_ resembles the south, but differs in details. especially noticeable is the profusion of dog-tooth ornament, the magnificent lancet windows, called the "five sisters," with the five smaller ones over it. these are the largest ancient lancets in england.[16] curious grotesques are seen in the triforium moulding. the monuments here are:--(1) a brass to the memory of soldiers slain in india; (2) archbishop harcourt's tomb (1808-1843); (3) a skeleton memorial of thomas huxby, treasurer (1418-1424); (4) archbishop greenfield's tomb (d. 1315), which lies before the place where the altar of st. nicholas stood; (5) effigy of dr. beckwith (d. 1847). in 1829 a disastrous fire occurred in the cathedral, caused by a lunatic incendiary named martin. he hid himself on the night of the fire behind the tomb of archbishop greenfield. there is a curious doorway leading to the vestibule of the chapter-house of decorated style. entering the _vestibule_ we notice the exact place where the early english builders finished their work, and the decorated style begins. the difference between the styles in the chapter-house and vestibule shows that the former was erected first. it has a wall arcade, and above are windows of curious tracery, filled with beautiful old glass. the shafts of the arcade support trefoiled arches, with a cinquefoil ornamented with a sculptured boss. each boss and capital is beautifully carved with foliage, amidst which the heads of men and dragons appear. the glass is early decorated, and contains representations of royal personages. the _chapter-house_ is one of the most beautiful in england. the entrance is an arch, divided into two arches by a canopied pier, which bears a mutilated statue of the virgin and child. clustered shafts, with capitals, are on each side of the doors, which have remarkably good scrolled iron-work. the chamber itself is very magnificent. it is octagonal, and in each bay there are six canopied stalls under a five-light window. the window tracery is superb. clustered shafts support the vaulted roof. everywhere we see richly-carved stone-work, the finest in any cathedral, the foliage of maple, oak, vine, and other trees. here are pigs and squirrels feeding on acorns, men gathering grapes, birds, and coiled dragons and reptiles. the grotesques are most curious and interesting. in 1845, unfortunately, the building was restored, and the painted figures of kings and bishops were destroyed, a poor tiled floor laid down; but, in spite of all, it can still maintain its proud boast:- "_ut rosa flos florum, sic est domus ista domorum._" ["as the rose is the flower of flowers, so is this house the chief of houses."] [illustration the ladye chapel herbert railton 1899] the _choir-screen_, erected in 1500, is good perpendicular work, and has figures of kings from william i. to henry vi. the rebus of the master-mason, hyndeley (a hind lying) occurs in the capitals. the canopies are richly carved. there is an ogee pediment, and a niche with angels on each side, with censers. the tudor flower is used as an ornament, and plaster angels by bernasconi were added in 1810. the organ was erected in 1632. [illustration the crypt] _the choir and lady chapel._--the lady chapel, occupying the four east bays, was built in 1361-1405, the choir in 1407-1420. the style is perpendicular, though it follows the design of the nave; yet the builders endeavoured to improve upon the earlier work and remedy its defects. they were eminently successful, and produced one of the most stately and magnificent choirs in england. the roof is made of wood, like the nave, and has a large number of foliated bosses. a disastrous fire in 1829 destroyed all the old carved stalls and _misereres_, and the modern substitutes are fairly successful. the altar-screen is a good reproduction of the ancient one, and the reredos was designed by street, with reliefs by tinworth. the lectern was given by t. cracroft in 1686. the differences in the style of the clerestory windows in the east and west portions will be readily noticed. only in the western part is the perpendicular style fully developed. the east window is the largest window in england, retaining its original glazing, but in actual size it is surpassed by that at gloucester. its height is 75 feet, and breadth 32 feet, and each compartment is a yard square. the artist of the glass was one thornton, of coventry. the altar of the virgin stood under this window, and here was a chantry, founded by the percys. there is a curious ancient carving, much mutilated, of the virgin and child. archbishop bowet's chantry (1407-1423) was at the east of the south aisle, and his tomb is here, the finest in the cathedral, though much mutilated. there are many monuments in the choir, which are too numerous to mention--the second son of edward iii. (d. 1344), archbishop savage (d. 1507), archbishop sterne (1689), archbishop scrope, beheaded by henry iv., to whose tomb there was great resort by pilgrims. the _crypt_ was mainly discovered after the fire of 1829. it has fine norman piers, part of roger's cathedral (d. 1181), and contains some "herring-bone" work of saxon architecture, the remains of edwin's church. the vestry has some very interesting antiquities: an old installation chair, used at the consecration and enthronement of the archbishops; an old treasury-chest; prayer-book and bible, presented by charles i.; an old chained bible; two _misereres_, left after the fire; a pastoral staff of 1686; the famous horn of alphus, presented before the conquest, the title-deed to several acres of land held by horn tenure; chalices and patens of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; episcopal rings, and the bowl of the cordwainers' company, formerly belonging to archbishop scrope. the vastness of york minster, with its forest of clustered pillars, its unrivalled ancient stained glass, its importance as the metropolitan church of northern england, combine to make this splendid cathedral one of the most interesting in the kingdom. other objects of interest in the city _st. mary's abbey_, in the museum gardens, founded by earl sward in 1050. the present buildings were erected, after a fire in 1137, in 1270, and the abbey grew to become one of great wealth and importance. the style is decorated. on the site of the abbot's house is the _king's manor_, or _royal palace_, now used as a blind school. near at hand is the _multangular tower_, which formed part of the old roman wall, and _st. leonard's hospital_, founded by king athelstan in 936 a.d., and rebuilt by stephen. the museum is worthy of a visit, and the _hospitium_ of the old abbey, which now contains a good collection of roman antiquities and carved stones from the abbey. _st. william's college_ (college street), the famous abode of the chantry priests of the cathedral, founded in 1460, is now a series of cottages. the city walls should be visited, and the old gates--mickelgate, walmgate, monkgate, and bootham bar. the hall of the merchant adventurers' company is interesting, and clifford's tower, the keep of the conqueror's castle, celebrated for the massacre of the jews in 1190. many of the churches are ancient, and have beautifully-carved doors and interesting old glass. the church of st. mary the younger has a saxon tower. dimensions total length 486 ft. length of nave 262 ft. breadth of nave and aisles 104 ft. height of nave 99 ft. length of choir 224 ft. length of transept 223 ft. height of central tower 198 ft. height of western towers 196 ft. area 63,800 sq. ft. for building dates _see_ page 312. [illustration plan of york cathedral] footnote: [16] we must except lord grimthorpe's modern innovations at st. albans. beverley minster [illustration beverley minster, the west front] although beverley is not a cathedral, its minster is certainly worthy of being ranked as such, and perhaps some day, when our dioceses are again divided, it may have a bishop of its own. of john of beverley's foundation want of space forbids us to write, or of the great æthelstan, who conferred great privileges on the place. ælfric and archbishop aldred were great builders, and did much for the minster; but in 1188 a great part of the church was destroyed by fire. the nave seems to have escaped without much serious injury, and the monks set about repairing the east end and building a central tower; but, after the manner of towers, this one fell, and reduced the eastern arm of the church to ruins. then came the era of the great gothic builders, and early in the thirteenth century the monks began to rebuild the east end of the church, the tower, and one bay of the nave, and nobly did they accomplish their undertaking. they accomplished a work which caused their minster to rank with the best achievements of early english gothic art, and we must look to salisbury or the choir of lincoln to find anything equal to it. for many years the old norman nave remained. nearly 100 years passed away, and then a new era of building dawned. at the end of the first quarter of the fourteenth century the monks set to work to rebuild the nave. quickly the work progressed, until the black death, which seems to have been especially virulent in monasteries, laid low many of the builders. the noise of the chisel ceased, until at length the monks resumed their work, and built that crowning glory of their minster, the noble west front. such was the history of the building of beverley minster. since that time little has been done, except to preserve the exquisite workmanship of these early builders. the church suffered from neglect, and from the evil genius and vile taste of the georgian architects; but happily all their monstrosities have been removed by sir gilbert scott, who restored the minster to its ancient beauty. [illustration beverley minster] the _west front_ is one of the finest examples of the perpendicular style in england. it consists of two towers, flanking a large window, above which is a high gable, and below a deeply-recessed door. the window has nine lights. the whole front is panelled, and the buttresses are ornamented with various tiers of niche-work of excellent composition and most delicate execution. these niches are about to be filled with figures. we enter the minster by the north porch, which is a fine piece of perpendicular work, with a parvise over it. on entering the building we are struck with its great loftiness and the consummate beauty of its architectural details. as we have said, the _nave_ is later than the choir, with the exception of the first bay adjoining the tower. that one bay is early english; the rest is superb decorated work. the ball-flower moulding is conspicuous in the latter, the dog-tooth in the former; but there seems to have been some attempt to assimilate the later work with the earlier. the west end is perpendicular, and the west window is a fine example of the work of that period. the glass is modern. there is some beautiful arcading in the aisles, that in the north aisle being more developed decorated than that in the south. the tomb of the "sisters of beverley" in the south aisle should be noticed. it belongs to the decorated period, and possesses many features of interest. history is silent as to the names of these sisters, who are supposed to have been benefactors to the townsfolk. the tracery of the windows in the aisles should be noticed, as it is remarkable for its gracefulness and variety. the only relic of norman work in the church is the font, near the south door, which is of a somewhat late character. the _transepts_ are of noble early english construction. tall lancets shed light upon the exquisite architectural details displayed here. each transept has double aisles. the arcading of the triforium is curious, but effective. in the tympanum of each trefoil arch there is a quatrefoil and two semi-arches, which are completed by similar ones under the next arch. the effigy and monument of a priest in the north transept (fourteenth century) have some exquisite carving, and afford an excellent study of ecclesiastical vestments. the _east end_ of the church is entirely composed of early english work, and without doubt contains some of the best and most perfect architectural achievements of the thirteenth century. the piers are composed of eight massive columns. there is no triforium gallery, a very exquisite arcade taking its place, similar to that in the transepts, consisting of trefoil arches, ornamented with dog-tooth. purbeck marble is extensively used throughout the choir. the screen is modern. the choir stalls and _misereres_ are scarcely surpassed by any in england. they belong to the sixteenth century, and the designs represented on the latter are extremely quaint and curious. few churches have such a superb _altar-screen_ as beverley. it is early english, but has been much mutilated and robbed of its images, which now have been replaced by good modern sculpture. it has also been decorated with glass mosaic work. near it, on the north, is the famous _percy tomb_, which is well known to all students of architecture. it is very beautiful decorated work, and is generally considered to have no equal. it was erected about 1338, and is to the memory of lady eleanor percy, the wife of the first lord percy. the carving is quite superb, the details of the figure-sculpture being worthy of the closest attention. in the gable is a figure of the almighty receiving the soul of the deceased, who is represented as being held up by a sheet supported by two angels. the east transepts and retro-choir possess also some fine early english work, and is similar to that which has been described. in this retro-choir stood the shrine of st. john of beverley, which was watched by a monk stationed in the watching chamber over the altar-screen. notice the frith-stool, seated in which the person who sought sanctuary could defy the approach of his enemies and escape the justice which doubtless he deserved. beverley was a noted place for sanctuary, and the records relating to this privilege are full of curious interest. the _staircase_ leading to the chapter-house, now destroyed, is remarkably fine, and is certainly a very beautiful feature of this wonderful church. the great east window is perpendicular, and has some ancient glass. on the north is the percy chapel, founded in the fifteenth century; in it lies the body of one of the earls of percy, who was cruelly murdered at the close of that century. [illustration percy shrine beverley minster] wakefield cathedral the see of wakefield was created in 1888. the enormous increase of the population of england and the growth of the church's work have necessitated the multiplication of bishoprics and the division of many of the ancient enormous dioceses. this is one of the sees which it was found necessary to form. the old parish church of all saints was converted into the cathedral, but it possesses few of the associations and architectural beauties of our ancient minsters. it is, however, a fine parish church. it was consecrated by archbishop william de melton of york in 1329, but almost wholly rebuilt in the fifteenth century. its main features are, therefore, perpendicular. it consists of a chancel and large nave, with aisles. there is a clerestory, but no triforium. at the west end there is a tower, surmounted by a fine spire, rebuilt in 1860, the total height being 247 feet. a heavy screen separated the nave from the chancel of jacobean style, and the organ and font belong to the seventeenth century. the whole building was restored by sir g. scott at a cost of £30,000. on the bridge across the calder there is a beautiful little chapel or chantry, dedicated to st. mary (30 feet by 24 feet). this was built and endowed by edward iv. in memory of his father, richard, duke of york, killed at the battle of wakefield in 1460. it was restored in 1847. near here was fought the famous battle between queen margaret, wife of henry vi., and the duke of york, whom this chantry commemorates. wakefield was an ancient seat of manufacture, foreign weavers being established here by henry vii. [illustration wakefield cathedral herbert railton] [illustration chantry chapel on wakefield bridge herbert railton] lincoln cathedral the city of lincoln has a history of profound interest. the first view of its mighty minster rising above the lower houses of the city is most impressive, and the whole place teems with historical association. professor freeman states that lincoln has "kept up its continuous being through roman, english, danish and norman conquests." before the advent of the romans it was a british stronghold, and bore a celtic name--lindum; and when the conquering legions came they made it one of the chief towns of the empire, and honoured it with the rank of a "colony"--hence lin_coln_, "the colony of lindum," thus preserving its ancient name, and adding the title of its dignity. the only existing roman gateway in england is here, and the remains of a basilica, mosaic pavements, altars, sepulchral monuments, testify to the greatness of roman lincoln. the anglo-saxons wrought much havoc, and devastated the city. here came st. paulinus in 627 a.d., and converted the pagan saxons to christianity. the fierce danes attacked lincoln and made it their chief town, the principal member of their league of the five towns (leicester, stamford, derby, nottingham and lincoln). before the norman conquest it ranked fourth among the cities of england. then came william the conqueror, who raised a castle and made it the base of his operations against the northern counties. lincoln soon was raised to a position of great ecclesiastical pre-eminence, when remigius of fécamp became the first norman bishop, and ruled the vastest diocese in england, extending from the humber to the thames. the city was in the eleventh and twelfth centuries one of the greatest trading towns in the country, the resort of traders both of land and sea. here king stephen was vanquished and carried off a prisoner to bristol. here king john received the homage of william the lion of scotland. the din of wars and battles has often been heard in the streets of lincoln; in the wars of the barons against the young king henry iii., the wars of the roses, and above all in the great civil war, when the city was stormed and sacked by the roundheads. here edward i. summoned his first parliament. here kings have held their court and worshipped in the minster, and here a most formidable insurrection arose in consequence of the arbitrary acts of henry viii. and the destruction of the monasteries. the bishops of lincoln have been men of great power and influence, and have played prominent parts in the history of england. such prelates as st. hugh, robert grosseteste, and many others have conferred honour on the see over which they presided. [illustration the potter gate & towers of lincoln cathedral] history of the cathedral the first cathedral of lincoln was built by remigius, the earliest norman bishop, on the removal of the see from dorchesteron-the-thames about 1074. previous to this paulinus had preached here, and converted its prefect, blaecca, who built a church of stone, which was probably on the site of st. paul's church, the name being corrupted from paulinus. stow village was the seat of the lindsay diocese until the danish invasion. then dorchester was the bishop's residence until remigius transferred his throne to lincoln, and built a church "strong as the place was strong and fair as the place was fair, dedicated to the virgin of virgins." this church was ready for consecration on the founder's death in 1092 a.d. it was cruciform, with a semi-circular apse at the east end. the parts remaining are the central portion of the west front with its three recesses, a fragment of the first bay of the nave, and the foundations of the apse beneath the floor of the choir. it was a massive stern norman building. the third norman bishop, alexander, called "the magnificent," after a disastrous fire in 1141, restored the cathedral "to more than its former beauty." this alexander was a nephew of bishop roger of salisbury, and during his time raged the war between stephen and the empress maud. the adherents of the latter held the castle of lincoln; so stephen seized the cathedral and used it as a fortress. the chroniclers tell us that alexander "remodelled the church by his subtle artifice," and made it the most beautiful in england. all that remains of his work are the three western doorways inserted in the arches built by remigius, the intersecting arcade above the two side recesses of the west front, and the three lower storeys of the west tower, with their elaborately-ornamented gables facing north and south. these were all in the late norman or transition style. a terrible earthquake wrought much damage in 1185, and grievous was the condition of the church after this deplorable visitation. but happily in the following year the famous st. hugh of avalon, near grenoble, was made bishop of lincoln by henry ii. he determined to restore the ruined house of god, and began to build in 1192. freeman states that "st. hugh was strictly the first to design a building in which the pointed arch should be allowed full play, and should be accomplished by an appropriate system of detail." before his death in 1200 he built the choir and aisles and east (or smaller) transept, with a portion of the east wall of the great transept. all architects praise this beautiful work, the first development of the early english style, the earliest building of that style in the world. the great transept was completed and the nave gradually carried west-wards in the early english style during the successive episcopates of william de blois, hugh de wells and robert grosseteste (1203-1253). of the nave, freeman wrote: "there are few grander works in the style of the thirteenth century than lincoln nave, few that show greater boldness of construction and greater elegance of detail." to the same period we may assign the two western chapels, the arcaded screen wall of the west front and its flanking turrets, the galilee porch and the vestry, the two lower storeys of the tower, and chapter-house. during the rule of grosseteste, the two lower storeys of the tower were built. this grosseteste was a remarkable man, of great learning and ability, defended the rights of the english church against the claims of the papacy, and reformed many abuses in his diocese. great sanctity was attached to the body of st. hugh, which caused many miracles. it was buried according to the wishes of this holy and humble-minded man in an obscure corner of the cathedral. in such honour were his remains held that it was resolved to transport them to a more distinguished place; hence it was decided to erect a large and costly shrine, and the beautiful "angel choir" was erected for its accommodation. this magnificent structure was built in 1255-1280, and belongs to the period of transition between the early english and decorated styles, just when gothic architecture was touching its point of highest development. it is simply perfect in its proportion and details. the translation of the body of st. hugh was performed with much pomp, and the ceremony was attended by the highest in the land, king edward i. himself being one of the bearers of the revered saint's remains. the cloisters and vestibule belong to the decorated period, 1296 a.d., of which they present a small but beautiful example. the "bishop's eye," the large circular window of the south transept, was erected in 1350. about the same period much was done to adorn the interior. john de welbourn, treasurer of the cathedral, 1350-1380, set up the beautiful choir stalls, erected the vaulting of the central and west towers, with the internal panelling of the latter, and the row of niches and regal statues over the great west door. the three western windows and the upper stages of the west towers belong to a closely subsequent period. in these works we see the transition from the decorated to perpendicular style. some of the chantry chapels are purely perpendicular. at the reformation great spoils of treasure were carried off by the infamous commissioners of henry viii., who purloined a goodly store of jewels and nearly 9000 oz. of precious metals. they plundered the gold shrine of st. hugh and the silver shrine of bishop dalderby, and left the cathedral bare of all the treasures which the piety of centuries had accumulated. the people of lincoln liked not these proceedings, and there was a formidable insurrection, during which the church was used as a garrison. the advent of the royal troops and the execution of some of the leaders and several abbots suppressed the revolt. a reforming bishop of evil memory, henry holbech, further desecrated the church, destroying images and monuments, so that in 1548 there was scarcely a whole figure or tomb remaining. further terrible destruction took place in the civil war, when the soldiers broke the beautiful glass windows, tore up the brass memorials of the dead, wrecked the palace, and even threatened to pull down the cathedral, but were happily stayed from their mad enterprise by the intercession of the mayor, mr. original peart, with cromwell. after the restoration bishop fuller set to work to repair the destruction which vandalism had caused, and although the hand of the "restorer" has been felt on the fabric of this noble building, lincoln still maintains most of its ancient features, and remains one of the most interesting cathedrals in the kingdom. the exterior we will now walk round the building and note its chief architectural features. standing at the west end we will examine first the imposing _west front_. the central portion with its three recesses are parts of the earliest norman church of remigius. it will be noticed that the middle arch has been subsequently raised and pointed. a band of curious sculpture runs across the front, representing scenes from bible history. they are of norman character. noah and the ark, the deluge, the expulsion from paradise, scenes from the life of our lord and hades are the most curious. the doorways are later than the recesses, and were inserted by bishop alexander, "the magnificent," who also built the arcade of intersecting arches above the two side recesses, and the three lower storeys of the towers, in the style of late norman. the rest of the screen is early english work, erected 1200-1250. bishop st. hugh had sketched the outline of the new church, and his successors carried it out. amongst them bishop grosseteste did much good work, and his portion is distinguished by the lattice-work ornament which appears in the gable of this front, proclaiming its author. there is a row of royal statues (william i. to edward iii.) above the central door, which were erected by the treasurer, john de welbourn (1350-1380). the statue of st. hugh surmounts the south turret, and the swineherd of stow[17] the north turret. the three large windows belong to the time of henry vi., and at this time the towers were completed, which are perpendicular work, above the norman three storeys. [illustration lincoln cathedral exchequer gate.] turning to the south side of the church we see the unique chapel and consistory court, and the curious grotesque popularly known as "the devil looking over lincoln." heavy buttresses support the nave, and flying buttresses connect these with the clerestory. the _galilee porch_ was built in 1230, and is cruciform. the name galilee is attached to chapels at durham and ely, and we have already referred to the most probable conjecture with regard to its origin.[18] a profusion of dog-tooth ornament appears here, the characteristic moulding of early english period. the muniment room is above the porch. the _central tower_ is the finest in england, as it is the highest (271 feet), though the spires of salisbury and norwich exceed this altitude. formerly it was capped by an immense timber spire, blown down in the first year of the sixth edward's reign. lincoln has suffered from falling towers as have other cathedrals. the two lower storeys were built by grosseteste in early english style on the fall of its predecessor in 1237. the lattice-work ornament so freely employed in the work of this bishop is observable here. the upper storey was begun by bishop dalderby in 1307 and finished in 1311 in the decorated style. the timber spire covered with lead rose to a height of 524 feet, and was destroyed by a tempest. storms and tempests have beat upon this tower for centuries, and occasionally have wrought mischief, but this has been from time to time remedied, and it remains the grandest and most majestic in the world. it is the abode of the famous "great tom of lincoln," the fourth largest bell in the kingdom, recast in 1835. it weighs over five tons, and is 21 feet 6 inches in circumference. the _choir_ is the work of st. hugh, the earliest example of early english. in the _presbytery_ we see the style developed to his most perfect form, and merging into the decorated period. the south doorway is especially worthy of notice, with its fine sculpture and splendid tympanum representing the last judgment. the russell and longland chapels (perpendicular) are on each side of this doorway. we notice the magnificent decorated window of the angel choir, on the north side the chapel of bishop fleming (perpendicular), a doorway of good design; and then we see the chapter-house with its flying buttresses and pyramidal roof. on the north side is the cloister garth and deanery. the cloisters are usually on the south side, and this position is uncommon. lincoln was not a monastic church, being served by secular canons, and therefore had no necessity for a cloister court. however, this was built in the thirteenth century, the colonnade on the north side being erected in 1674 by sir christopher wren, together with the library over it, which we shall visit presently. by an act of vandalism the old deanery was pulled down in 1847 and the present house built, which is devoid of many of the interesting associations of its predecessor. the cathedral close was surrounded by a wall and protected by strong gateways. two of these remain, the "exchequer gate," opposite the west end, and the "potter gate." the old bishop's palace on the south of the close was destroyed during the civil war, and quite recently a new episcopal residence has been erected near the ruins of the ancient house. the interior. as we have already stated, the nave of lincoln was designed by bishop hugh in the early english style, gradually carried west-ward by his successors, and completed before the death of grosseteste in 1253. it consists of seven bays. eight circular shafts of purbeck marble surround each pier. the mouldings of the arches are deeply cut. above is the triforium, consisting of two arches, each divided into three sub-arches. clustered shafts with capitals carved with foliage support the arches. above each main triforium arch in the clerestory are three lancet windows, and the roof is a fine specimen of english vaulting. sir gilbert scott says that this nave "exhibits an early english style in its highest stage of development: massive without heaviness, rich in detail without exuberance, its parts symmetrically proportioned and carefully studied throughout, the foliated carving bold and effective, there seems no deficiency in any way to deteriorate from its merits"--an opinion with which few visitors to lincoln will be inclined to differ. under the towers will be noticed the norman character of the first bay, which is part of the original church of remigius. the west window, in its present form, is perpendicular, and was inserted in the place of an earlier one. the _font_ also belongs to the time of remigius, and is a fine example of the norman period. it is of black basalt, square in shape, and has been recently placed upon three steps of derbyshire marble. grotesque monsters are carved on the sides of the font. the aisles have lancet windows, and below a beautiful arcade of trefoiled arches, the south side being more elaborate than the north. the bosses have figures carved on them. on the north-west corner is the morning chapel, having a central column of purbeck marble supporting a stone vaulted roof. here is the pastoral staff of archbishop benson of canterbury, who, when chancellor of lincoln, restored this chapel. opposite to this chapel, in the south-west, is the consistory court. none of the old glass has survived in the nave, and most of the shrines and tombs have been destroyed. the fanatics of the reformation and cromwell's soldiers left little of the sepulchral brasses and gorgeous tombs and effigies which once were here. a marble slab, carved with scriptural subjects, is supposed to represent the tomb of the founder, remigius. the memory of dean hoywood (d. 1681), the founder of the library, is recorded on a tablet, and three slabs preserve the names of bishops smyth (d. 1514), alnwick (d. 1449), and atwater (d. 1521). the _pulpit_ is seventeenth-century work, and the lectern is a memorial of dean butler (d. 1894). the great transept contains some of st. hugh's work. he devised a beautiful double arcade, and his work ends half-way on the east wall in north transept, and half-way the east wall in south transept, measuring from the centre of the building. the rest was built by his successors in the early english style. the magnificent circular windows at the north and south ends are very striking, and extremely beautiful. the former is known as the _dean's eye_, the latter as the _bishop's eye_, which, with the gable and window above, is in the curvilinear style, and was erected about 1350. the dean's eye was placed there about 1220, and has some exquisite ancient glass of that period representing our saviour in glory. in the east of this transept are six chapels, dedicated to ss. nicholas, denis, james, edward the martyr, john the evangelist and giles. the stone screen before the chapel of st. edward should be examined, with its curious sculpture. before the reformation there seems to have been some laxity of conduct among the chaplains and choristers, who were accused of playing games in the church, and here in one of these chapels we see nine holes, which were probably used for the favourite pastime of "nine men's morris." in the south transept there are the slender remains of the once famous tomb of bishop dalderby (d. 1320), to which there was great resort of pilgrims in mediæval times. his shrine was destroyed at the reformation. this bishop built the upper part of the tower. the _screen_ is good decorated work, and consists of arches ornamented with figures of ecclesiastics and grotesques. it has been somewhat severely handled by fanatical destroyers, but, in spite of mutilation and restoration, it remains a noble example of the workmanship of the period. the organ stands above this screen. the doorways on each side of the screen are early english, and are very beautiful. entering the _choir_, we see the earliest known example of pure lancet gothic or early english, free from the trace of norman influence. it was built by bishop st. hugh. the first stone was laid in 1192. the perfection of the ornament is wonderful. this part of the church suffered severely from the fall of the tower in 1237, and many traces of the disaster may still be seen. screens divide the choir from the aisles, and were erected to strengthen the building. the _choir stalls_ are very fine, and were erected by treasurer welbourn in 1370. the carving is most elaborate and beautiful, and the _misereres_ are extremely curious and interesting. behind each stall is a list of the psalms which, according to the constitution of lincoln, each prebendary is bound to repeat daily. the pulpit and bishop's throne are fairly modern. the brass lectern bears the date 1667. the _reredos_ was restored about the middle of the eighteenth century, but contains some thirteenth-century work. a very interesting feature of the north side is the _easter sepulchre_, fashioned for the deposition of the consecrated elements of the eucharist from the evening of good friday until the morning of easter day; during which time it was watched by a quasi-guard. three figures of sleeping soldiers appear in the carving. the style is decorated. this tomb has been very doubtfully assigned to remigius. there are the monuments of katherine swinford, third wife of john of gaunt (d. 1403), from whom king edward is descended in a direct line, and of her daughter, the countess of westmoreland (d. 1440), much mutilated by the soldiers. in the _north aisle_ of the choir the beautiful double arcade work of bishop hugh is seen on the wall. in the _south aisle_ are the remains of the _shrine of little st. hugh_, the christian boy with whose crucifixion the jews were charged in 1255. the style is decorated, but the shrine was mutilated by the soldiers in the civil war. the great chronicler, henry of huntingdon, also lies buried here. the eastern transept is part of bishop hugh's church. in each arm, on the east side, there are two apsidal chapels, with arcading round the walls. the style of the construction resembles that of the choir. on the south of the north arm is the so-called _dean's chapel_, the use of which can only be conjectured. the iron-work of the door is worthy of notice, and also the faded paintings of some lincoln prelates, by vincenzo damini (1728). it is sad to see the fragments of the tomb of grosseteste, to whom the cathedral of lincoln and the whole church of england owe so much, stored away in one of the chapels. respect for his memory and gratitude for his work might suggest the restoration of this tomb. the southern arm of this east transept has been much altered, and most of the present work is later than the choir. in one of the chapels the sub-dean was murdered by one of the vicars in 1205. here is the tomb of bishop kaye (d. 1853). the screen and lavatory of the choristers' vestry are beautiful examples of decorated work. [illustration the angel choir] we now enter the _angel choir_ (1256-1280), pronounced by sir gilbert scott to be "the most splendid work of that period which we possess, and did it not lack internal height, i do not think it could be exceeded in beauty by any existing church." it is the latest portion of the main fabric, and was built when the early english style was developing into the decorated. the piers are beautiful clustered shafts, with carved capitals of purbeck marble. the east window of eight lights is very fine (the glass is modern), and is said to be the noblest example of geometrical decorated in the kingdom. the choir takes its name from the carved angels in the spandrels of the triforium, which exhibit combined grace and dignity. the famous _lincoln imp_ can with difficulty be distinguished on the north side, above the most eastern pier. early english glass fills the east windows of the north and south aisles. on the north of the angel choir is the _fleming chantry_, which contains the double effigy of the bishop (d. 1431), the founder of lincoln college, oxford, first in his episcopal robes, and then of his corpse in a state of decay. bishop fleming exhumed and burnt the bones of wyclif. opposite this chantry is the _russell chantry_, founded by bishop russell (d. 1494), chancellor of richard iii., and near this the chantry of bishop longland (d. 1547). here in the angel choir stood, in former days, the rich shrine of st. hugh, plundered at the reformation, and a monument of queen eleanor, the beloved wife of edward i., who caused to be erected the famous eleanor crosses at every place where her body rested, as it was borne to its final resting-place at westminster. this monument was destroyed by cromwell's soldiers, and recently a modern copy of the original has been erected. the burghersh monuments are worthy of careful study. the family played an important part in history, and held high honours. also we notice the tombs of nicholas de cantelupe (much mutilated), the artists peter de wint (d. 1849) and w. hilton (d. 1839); bishop fuller's memorial of st. hugh, bishop fuller (d. 1675), bishop gardiner (d. 1705) and sub-dean gardiner (d. 1732), bishop wordsworth (d. 1885), dean butler (d. 1894), bishop sutton (d. 1299) and robert dymoke (d. 1735), whose family held the office of king's champion. the _cloisters_ were erected in the thirteenth century, with the exception of the north colonnade, which was built by sir christopher wren. over this is the _library_, which contains many treasures: an original copy of magna charta, a letter of edward i.; a chalice of bishop grosseteste (1254) and his ring; bishop sutton's ring and chalice and paten (1299); a roman mile-stone (260 a.d.). of books there is a large collection, including a ms. copy of the vulgate (1106), other valuable mss., and many versions of the bible in english. the old desks are curious and interesting. the beautiful _chapter-house_ is of early english design, and was completed about 1230. it is ten-sided, and has a central pillar girt with purbeck marble shafts, and a stone vaulted roof; lancet windows, filled with good modern glass enlighten the chamber, two in each side. an arcade runs round the walls beneath the windows, and in the carving we see the tooth ornament. there is a very ancient chair of state here, which is said to have been the throne of edward i. when he held his parliament in this room. * * * * * [my grateful thanks are due to the very reverend the dean of lincoln for the great assistance which he has kindly rendered me in investigating the history of his cathedral.] dimensions total length 482 ft. length of nave 252 ft. breadth of nave with aisles 80 ft. height of nave 82 ft. length of choir 158 ft. length of presbytery 72 ft. height of central tower 271 ft. height of west towers 200 ft. area 44,400 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1074-1092)--central part of west front, fragments of first bay of nave. (1123-1183)--west doors, arcade of west front, three lower storeys of west towers. early english (1192-1253)--choir and presbytery, nave, transept to west chapels, turrets and screen of west front, galilee, vestries, two lower stages of tower and chapter-house. (1255-1296)--angel choir, cloisters. decorated (1307-1380)--upper storeys of tower, "bishop's eye," stalls, statues over west door, upper stages of west towers. (1450-1500)--chapels. (1674)--north colonnade of cloister and library. [illustration plan of lincoln cathedral] footnotes: [17] this swineherd is said to have given a peck of silver pennies to the building of the cathedral. [18] page 291. southwell cathedral the ancient and interesting church of st. mary, southwell, became a cathedral in 1884, when the bishopric was founded, and the building is worthy of its high honour. in the time of henry viii. it nearly attained that rank, southwell being one of the sees which that monarch proposed to found out of the spoils of the monasteries, but his good intentions were not fulfilled. for centuries it was in the large diocese of york, and was esteemed as the mother church of the district, and enjoyed many rights and privileges. with the exception of a few fragments, no part of the present church dates further back than the twelfth century. there was an early saxon church here, which was probably founded by paulinus when he converted the wild folk of nottinghamshire and lincolnshire to the christian faith. then came the savage danes, who swept away all traces of christianity. the next church is said to have been built by the saxon king edgar, in 960 a.d., which was one of much importance before the conquest; and in 1061 aldred, archbishop of york, founded prebends here, and built refectories for the canons. in the time of henry i. it was raised to the dignity of mother church of the district, and the church was entirely rebuilt in the norman style. when walter de grey was archbishop of york (1216-1255), he was very energetic in improving the condition of his diocese and in erecting churches. he rebuilt the nave of southwell, granting an indulgence of thirty days' pardon to all who should assist the work. john de romeyn, sub-dean, whose son was afterwards archbishop of york, assisted him in the work. there is a close resemblance between the nave of york cathedral and the earlier choir of southwell, and it is not improbable that the latter served as a model for the former. there is also a very close resemblance between the chapter-house of the two cathedrals, which are evidences of the same designer and workmanship. archbishop john de romeyn was doubtless the architect of both buildings. the community of clergy at southwell consisted of the prebendaries, who formed the chapter, the vicars-choral and chantry priests and choristers. the prebendaries had much power and many privileges. they held property, and each had a large house, hunted in neighbouring forests, and lived as country gentlemen as well as canons of southwell. at the reformation they surrendered their goods to henry viii., who contemplated making southwell a cathedral. he despoiled the church of vast quantities of plate and other valuables. in 1574, however, the college, like other similar institutions, was seized by the unscrupulous advisers of edward vi. in mary's reign it reverted to the crown, and she restored the college to its former owners and uses, and this arrangement was happily left undisturbed by her successors. during the civil war cromwell's soldiers stabled their horses in the nave of the church. charles i. stayed in the town at the "saracen's head," and here he delivered himself up to the scotch commissioners, who stayed at the palace. cromwell wished to destroy the nave, but was stayed in his fanatical design by the intercession of one of his officers. the story is told of the wife of a hunted royalist, named william clay, registrar of the minster, hiding herself in the parvise, or room over the porch, and there giving birth to a child, while the soldiers lived in the church. a general pillage took place in the church at this time; the font was destroyed, lead torn from the roofs, brasses from the tombs, and every vestige of an image swept away. the college of southwell has suffered in many other ways, sometimes from the carelessness of the prebendaries and their lack of zeal, sometimes from the effects of unwise and revolutionary legislation. in 1846 its position as a peculiar ceased to exist. southwell is now a cathedral with a diocese of its own, and if the ecclesiastical commissioners and the friends of the church could see their way to granting an adequate endowment and means for carrying on its great work, southwell would be able to maintain the dignity of an important see, and fulfil its mission to the church and nation. exterior the finest view of this noble minster is obtained from the north-west corner of the churchyard. we notice the general norman character of the building. the massive western towers, capped with spires, the lantern tower, the north transept and beautiful chapter-house, the noble roof, all combine to form a magnificent example of dignified and noble building. the _west front_ has been altered in character from its original norman work. we see a huge perpendicular window with an embattled parapet over it, an alteration made in the fifteenth century. the windows in the lower stages of the towers are modern imitation of norman work. the towers have seven stages, and the sixth is enriched with fine arcading composed of intersecting arches. the present spires are modern imitations of the originals destroyed by fire in 1711. these were immediately restored, but removed in 1802, and have now again been replaced. the old norman doorway is remarkably fine. it has five orders, the zigzag and filleted edge roll being the chief mouldings. passing to the south side we see the wall of the nave pierced by apparent norman windows, but these are modern imitations. the most western window in the north side is the only original norman window; the rest are copied from it, and were erected in 1847. four perpendicular windows were inserted in the fifteenth century. there is a row of small square windows above which light the triforium, and the clerestory has a curious series of circular windows which are unique in this country. the roof is high pitched, having been erected in modern times by the architect christian, and the parapets are perpendicular in style. the south doorway should be noticed, of norman workmanship with zigzag string-course over it. near here are the remains of the old palace. the banqueting hall has been recently restored. the kitchens belong to the time of henry vi. on the east of the transepts there were formerly apsidal chapels, which were removed when the present choir was built in the early english period. the _choir_ is a noble specimen of early english work and "seems to be an emanation from lincoln," wrote sir gilbert scott, which it much resembles. we notice the extensive use of the dog-tooth ornament. lancet windows give light to the interior. two flying buttresses support the walls on the south side, and were added subsequently in the decorated period to help them to bear the weight of the vaulted roof. the _chapter-house_ is on the north side, and was built in the decorated period during the reign of edward i., when york was extremely prosperous and profited by the presence of the court. the resemblance between the chapter-houses of york and southwell is very striking, and both were evidently designed by the same architect. this one is octagonal, and has windows of three lights with trefoil and circular ones in the heads. the roof is modern. a vestibule connects it with the church. an early english wall with an arcade of lancets connects the vestibule with the north transept. the _north porch_ is good norman work, and has a parvise which is very unusual in a porch of this date. this parvise was the scene of the story of the hiding of mistress clay in the troublous times of the civil war. the inner doorway is very fine with its zigzag and beak-head moulding. the interior we now enter the church by the west door, and looking down the nave (1110-1150) we are impressed by the massive appearance of the interior. the piers are rather short, only 19 feet high, six on each side, with square bases and round capitals. the triforium is large, and above is the clerestory with its unique plain circular windows. the norman mouldings, zigzag, billet, hatchet, etc., are easily recognised. the present roof was erected in 1881. the _font_, erected in 1661, is a poor substitute for the one destroyed by the soldiers of cromwell. the _pulpit_ is modern; the figures represent the virgin and child, king edwin and his queen, augustine and paulinus. the second pillar from the east on the south side is called pike's pillar, and retains faint traces of a mural painting of the annunciation; the nave aisles have some good vaulting. a plain stone bench runs along the walls. this was common in old churches, and was the origin of the saying, "let the weakest go to the wall," where they could sit and rest, as the days of pews were not yet. the only original norman window which remains is at the west end of the north aisle. formerly there were several chantry chapels in the aisles, but all have been destroyed. the marble slab in the north aisle marks the site of one. the _tower_ is a lantern, and also has a peal of bells. the chimes were given by wymondesole in 1693. this tower is part of the original norman church, and was built in 1150. the cable moulding round the four large arches should be noticed. it is composed of a series of double cones. [illustration southwell central tower & n transept] the _transepts_ are beautiful specimens of the work of norman builders, and are full of interest. originally there were apsidal chapels on the east side of both transepts. one has been destroyed, but the arch which connected it with the church can be seen in the wall, with its zigzag and cable mouldings. the norman chapel on the east of the north transept has been replaced by a late early english building which will repay careful study. there were formerly two altars here, as the piscinæ and aumbreys show. the old norman arch is replaced by two pointed arches of unequal width. the windows are later insertions, and belong to the decorated period. there is an upper storey, formerly the treasury, now the library. the chapel has been recently restored, and is a most interesting architectural study. returning to the north transept we see a curious tympanum over the belfry doorway, with strange carving representing the teaching of psalm xci. 13: "the lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet." other interpretations are given of this subject, but this is the one usually accepted by scholars. it is also said by some to be saxon, but this is incorrect. there is a very similar sculpture in the church of charney bassett, berks. here is the fine alabaster tomb of archbishop sandys (d. 1588). he is represented in his episcopal robes, and the details of his dress are important, as they show what the vestments of a bishop really were in the time of elizabeth, a point often disputed by english churchmen of to-day. the east arch of the central tower has some curious sculptured capitals hidden by the organ which belong to the twelfth century. beginning on the south side, the subjects are lamb and dove, triumphal entry into jerusalem, nativity or resurrection, last supper, bishop saying mass, the blessed trinity, and the virgin and child. a stone _screen_ of rich decorated work separates the transept from the choir, over which is now the organ (a modern instrument). the screen is richly ornamented, and a noble specimen of the work of the period. there are three arches opening to the space beneath the tower, separated by slight piers of clustered shafts, the capitals carved with foliage of a late decorated character. the walls of the screen support the old rood-loft, access to which is gained by two staircases. entering the _choir_ we see on each side of the doorway three prebendal stalls with _misereres_, on which are carved some foliage. the bishop's stall was once occupied by cardinal wolsey. the choir, as we have said, was built by archbishop grey in early english style (1230-1250). there are six arches, with piers of eight clustered shafts. the dog-tooth moulding is conspicuous in the arches, and on the vaulting of the roof. it will be noticed that the triforium and clerestory are blended together. the east window consists of two rows of lancets, the lower ones containing old glass brought from paris in 1815, where it was formerly in the chapel of the knights templar. the baptism of our lord; raising of lazarus (francis i. is to be seen in a crimson cap); christ entering jerusalem (luther is near our lord, louis xi. and the duke of orleans); the mocking of our lord (the figure of dante appears). the _sedilia_ were erected in 1350, and are good decorated work. they have the unusual number of five seats on the same level. the arches are ogee-shaped, and are richly carved. the sculptured figures are remarkable, and represent the creation and the redemption. beginning at the east we see the father holding the world (two groups uncertain), joseph's dream, the nativity and flight into egypt. the _lectern_ belonged to the monks of newstead abbey, who threw it into the lake to hide it from the commissioners of henry viii. its date is about 1500. the choir aisles had several altars, as we see from the piscinæ and aumbreys which are left. we will now visit the _chapter-house_, and pass through the vestibule which leads to it, entering by a beautiful doorway in the north aisle. the transition between the early english work of the choir and the decorated style of the chapter-house is very gradual. the doorway, with its two arches and shafts of purbeck marble, is remarkably fine. there is a small cloister court, with a stone-covered well. in the vestibule we see the walls covered with beautiful arcading of lancet arches of an early english character. the capitals are beautifully carved with foliage. there is a curious boss of sculpture representing a secular priest shaking the regular monk by his hair, which figuratively depicts the supremacy of the former in the church of southwell. the _chapter-house_ (1285-1300) is described by ruskin as "the gem of english architecture," and all architects agree in singing the praises of this noble building. it much resembles that of york, but is smaller and perhaps more beautiful. it is octagonal, has no central pillar, and is remarkable for its fine sculpture. the historian of southwell says: "the foliage everywhere is most beautiful: the oak, the vine, the maple, the white-thorn, the rose, with a vast variety of other plants, are sculptured with exquisite freedom and delicacy; and no two capitals or bosses or spandrels are found alike. everywhere we meet, in ever-changing and ever-charming variety, with some fresh object of interest and admiration. figures are introduced amid the foliage, heads with branches issuing out of their mouths, birds and lizard-like monsters. in the capitals a man reclines beneath a tree, puffing lustily at a horn, or a goat is gnawing the leaves, or a bird pecking the berries, or a pair of pigs are grunting up the acorns, or a brace of hounds just grabbing a hare. all this is the work of no mere chiseller of stone, but of a consummate artist; than whom it may be doubted whether any sculptor, of any age or country, ever produced anything more life-like and exquisitely graceful." the entrance doorway is remarkably fine and is worthy of close study. the main arch is divided into two by a slender shaft, and over them is a quatrefoiled circle, of beautiful design. the leaf ornament is largely used, both in the smaller arches and in the main arch. filleted rounds and hollows are the other mouldings used. southwell once contained the shrine of a saxon saint--st. eadburgh, abbess of repton (d. 714). "the pilgrim's guide to the saints of england" (a ms. in the british museum, written in 1013) states that "the shrine of st. eadburgh is still at southwell," but no trace of it can now be found. there are several incised monumental slabs in the minster which have been cut and set in the floor. there is a latin inscription to the memory of william thorton, a chorister of the church, and the humble epitaph of william talbot, who was a shining light in his day and died 1497, is of pathetic interest:- "here lies william talbot, wretched and unworthy priest, awaiting the resurrection of the dead under the sign of the cross." [my thanks are due to the kindness of archdeacon richardson, rector of southwell minster, for his kindness in explaining to me the interesting features of his church. i am also indebted to the works of mr. dimock, mr. livett and mrs. trebeck for much valuable information.] dimensions length, 306 ft.; breadth, 61 ft.; length of transept, 123 ft.; height of central tower, 105 ft.; height of west towers and spires, 150 ft. peterborough cathedral the towns and cities of england owe their origin to various causes. some arose around the walls of great castles, some as trading centres or harbours, some clustered around the palace of a bishop, and others sheltered themselves beneath the shadow of a monastery. peterborough, or medeshamstede, is of this last class. it is a monastic town, and owes its existence to the great fenland monastery of st. peter, the minster church of which is now this beautiful cathedral. peada, the son of panda, king of mercia, first founded a monastery here in 654, of which saxulph was the first abbot. the pagan danes came in 870 with fire and sword, and wrought fearful havoc in all this region, burning the holy house of medeshamstede, and slaughtering the monks. for a hundred years the monastery lay in ruins; then came the religious revival under the rule of dunstan and king edgar. monastic houses increased in number greatly, and bishop ethelwold of winchester began to rebuild the waste places of the ruined saxon medeshamstede, and constructed a minster, some foundations of which still remain. the abbey flourished for nearly a century, but sad misfortunes befell. hereward the wake, the hero of kingsley's story, the gallant "last of the english," was making his last brave stand against william the norman, and in conjunction with the danes attacked the abbey, and wrought much destruction. fires and robbers were also occasionally dread visitants, and at last, in the time of henry i., a great fire destroyed the whole buildings. the then abbot was john de sais, who set to work immediately to erect a new monastery. this was in 1117. then was begun the glorious minster which is the pride and glory of the fenlands. subsequent abbots continued the work. abbots martin de vecti and william de waterville completed the transepts and tower and part of the nave, which was finished by abbot benedict (1177-1193). there is a striking uniformity of design throughout all this norman work, which shows that the builders followed one plan, and imitated the work of their predecessors. the western transept, however, shows evidences of the coming change, and when we come to the beautiful west front we find unmistakable early english work. this part was probably finished in 1238, in the time of abbot walter of st. edmunds, when the church was dedicated by bishop grosseteste of lincoln. abbot robert de lindsay, who liked not the windows of his monastery "stuffed with straw" to keep out wind and rain, filled many of them with glass, and built the lavatory in the cloister. gradually the erection of the monastic buildings was being completed, and refectory and infirmary added, and prior parys built the lady chapel and one of the steeples at the close of the thirteenth century, which also saw the removal of the norman windows from the aisles and the substitution of early decorated ones. this was a time of much splendour and magnificence for the abbey, when godfrey was abbot, and king edward often visited it and received aid for his scottish wars. this godfrey built the large gateway. a century later the abbot was endowed with the privilege of a mitre, and thus took his seat in the house of peers; and during this fourteenth century the lantern tower was erected with an octagon framed of wood, the triforium windows changed into the decorated style, and the west front improved by the erection of the spire and the central porch. during the fifteenth century we hear sad complaints of the relaxation of the discipline of the monks, who too often frequented taverns and "the vulgar company of dancers and ballad singers." abbot kirton was a notable man, who built, or rather finished, "that goodly building at the east end of the church, now commonly known by the name of the new building," begun by his predecessor ashton; and his rebus--a _kirk_ and a _tun_--appears on the grand gate, now leading to the deanery. at this time several norman windows were filled with perpendicular tracery. we see cardinal wolsey visiting the abbey, and on maundy thursday washing the feet of poor persons, and the luckless catherine of arragon being buried here in 1535. then came the dissolution of monasteries, and peterborough shared the fate of the rest. whether it was on account of the subservience of the abbot, or because it contained the ashes of his queen, henry viii. spared the church, and made it a cathedral, the last abbot being the first bishop. the burial of mary queen of scots in 1587 is the next historical event which was here witnessed. we can imagine the scene of the torchlight procession bearing the executed body of the frail but fair queen into the church, and the last solemn obsequies of that sad and stormy life. cromwell's soldiers "did after their kind," and dean patrick tells us of "the rifling and defacing" that ensued:- "the next day after their arrival, early in the morning, they break open the church doors, pull down the organs, of which there were two pair. "then the souldiers enter the quire, and their first business was to tear in pieces all the common-prayer books that could be found. the great bible indeed, that lay upon a brass eagle for reading the lessons, had the good hap to escape with the loss only of the apocrypha. "next they break down all the seats, stalls and wainscot that was behind them, being adorned with several historical passages out of the old testament. "when they had thus defaced and spoilt the quire, they march up next to the east end of the church, and there break and cut in pieces, and afterwards burn the rails that were about the communion table. the table itself was thrown down, the table-cloth taken away, with two fair books in velvet covers; the one a bible, the other a common-prayer book, with a silver bason gilt, and a pair of silver candlesticks beside. but upon request made to colonel hubbert, the books, bason and all else, save the candlesticks, were restored again. "now behind the communion table there stood a curious piece of stone-work, admired much by strangers and travellers: a stately skreen it was, well wrought, painted and gilt, which rose up as high almost as the roof of the church, in a row of three lofty spires, with other lesser spires growing out of each of them. this now had no imagery work upon it, or anything else that might justly give offence, and yet because it bore the name of the high altar, was pulled all down with ropes, lay'd low and level with the ground. "over this place, in the roof of the church, in a large oval yet to be seen, was the picture of our saviour seated on a throne; one hand erected, and holding a globe in the other, attended with the four evangelists and saints on each side, with crowns in their hands, intended, i suppose, for a representation of our saviour's coming to judgment. this was defaced and spoilt by the discharge of muskets. "then they rob and rifle the tombs, and violate the monuments of the dead. first then they demolish queen katherin's tomb: they break down the rails that enclosed the place, and take away the black velvet pall which covered the herse: overthrow the herse itself, displace the gravestone that lay over her body, and have left nothing now remaining of that tomb, but only a monument of their own shame and villany. what did remain [of the herse of mary queen of scots] that is, her royal arms and escutcheons which hung upon a pillar near the place where she had been interr'd, were most rudely pulled down, defaced and torn. "in the north isle of the church there was a stately tomb in memory of bishop dove, who had been thirty years bishop of the place. he lay there in portraicture in his episcopal robes, on a large bed under a fair table of black marble, with a library of books about him. these men soon destroy'd all the tomb. "the like they do to two other monuments standing in that isle. "in a place then called the new building, and since converted to a library, there was a fair monument, which sir humphrey orm (to save his heir that charge and trouble), thought fit to erect in his own life time, where he and his lady, his son and wife and all their children were lively represented in statues, under which were certain english verses written:- "_mistake not, reader, i thee crave, this is an altar not a grave, where fire raked up in ashes lyes, and hearts are made the sacrifice, &c._ "which two words, altar and sacrifice, 'tis said, did so provoke and kindle the zealots' indignation, that they resolve to make the tomb itself a sacrifice: and with axes, poleaxes, and hammers, destroy and break down all that curious monument, save only two pilasters still remaining, which shew and testifie the elegancy of the rest of the work. "when they had thus demolished the chief monuments, at length the very gravestones and marbles on the floor did not escape their sacrilegious hands. for where there was any thing on them of sculptures or inscriptions in brass, these they force and tear off. "having thus done their work on the floor below, they are now at leisure to look up to the windows above. "now the windows of this church were very fair, being adorned and beautified with several historical passages out of scripture and ecclesiastical story; such were those in the body of the church, in the isles, in the new building, and elsewhere. but the cloister windows were most famed of all, for their great art and pleasing variety. one side of the quadrangle containing the history of the old testament; another, that of the new; a third, the founding and founders of the church; a fourth, all the kings of england downwards from the first saxon king. all which notwithstanding were most shamefully broken and destroyed. yea, to encourage them the more in this trade of breaking and battering windows down, cromwell himself, (as 'twas reported,) espying a little crucifix in a window aloft, which none perhaps before had scarce observed, gets a ladder, and breaks it down zealously with his own hand. "but before i conclude the narrative, i must not forget to tell, how they likewise broke open the chapter-house, ransack'd the records, broke the seals, tore the writings in pieces, specially such as had great seals annexed unto them, which they took or mistook rather for the popes' bulls. "thus, in a short time, a fair and goodly structure was quite stript of all its ornamental beauty, and made a ruthful spectacle, a very chaos of desolation and confusion, nothing scarce remaining but only bare walls, broken seats, and shatter'd windows on every side. "many fair buildings adjoyning to the minster, were likewise pulled down and sold by publick order and authority, such were the cloysters, the old chapter-house, the library, the bishop's hall and chapel at the end of it: the hall was as fair a room as most in england; and another call'd the green-chamber, not much inferior to it. these all were then pull'd down and destroyed; and the materials, lead, timber and stone exposed to sale, for any that would buy them. but some of the bargains proved not very prosperous; the lead especially that came off the palace was as fatal as the gold of tholouse; for to my knowledge, the merchant that bought it, lost it all, and the ship which carried it, in her voyage to holland." [illustration peterborough cathedral] and thus the church continued for some time ruined and desolate. a relative of cromwell, oliver st. john, was granted the possession of it, and converted it into a parish church. the lady chapel was pulled down in order to obtain material for repairing the main building; the painted boards of the ceiling they found useful for making the backs for the choir. at the restoration dean cosin was recalled, and since that time many alterations and much reparation have been undertaken, though often with more zeal than good taste. dean tarrant (1764-1791) collected the fragments of stained glass, and placed them together in two windows at the east end. dean kipling removed the octagon, and erected four hideous turrets, which no longer disfigure the tower. dean monk (1822-1830) did much for the cathedral, though little of his work remains. since then the tower has been rebuilt (finished in 1886), much internal decoration added, and the west front rendered secure. much controversy has raged about the restoration of this west front. experts on both sides have expressed divers opinions, the relative merits of which it is difficult to decide. certainly to take down a building stone by stone and rebuild it again is not legitimate restoration. but whether it was possible to make the north gable secure without this drastic treatment it is for experts to decide, and it is presumptuous for others to express an opinion or attempt to arbitrate when these experts puzzle us with the variety of their judgments. the exterior we enter the precincts by the western gateway, built by abbot benedict in norman style, but subsequently altered at the end of the fourteenth century. there is a late decorated arch, and two arcades of the same date built over the norman wall; but the norman arcades proclaim its ancient origin. the upper room was the home of the peterborough branch of the spalding "society of gentlemen," who advanced learning and published papers at the beginning of the eighteenth century. previously it was the chapel of st. nicholas. on the left of the close is an old building, also erected by benedict, the remains of the chapel of st. thomas of canterbury. the old grammar school, founded by henry viii., utilised the building until recent years. the style of the present building is decorated. immediately before us we see the noble _west front_, "the pride and glory of peterborough," the finest portico in europe. with the exception of the porch, the style is pure early english. on the north and south are two lofty turrets, flanked at the angles with clustered shafts and crowned with spires. between these are three pointed arches, supported by clustered shafts, six on each side, with floriated capitals. the central arch is narrower than the rest, but its mouldings are ornamented with crockets and dog-tooth. a string-course runs along the top of the arches, and the spandrels have trefoils, quatrefoils and niches with statues. above the string-course is a series of trefoiled arches, some of which have statues. between the three gables are pinnacles much ornamented. the gables have circular windows of beautiful design and a cross at the apex; they are ornamented with dog-tooth and have niches with statues--st. peter in the centre, with ss. john and andrew on either side. the turrets on the north and south have six stages panelled with arches. the spires are good examples of the difference between those of the early decorated and perpendicular periods. the south spire is connected with the pinnacles of the tower by clustered pinnacles springing from an arch; these are decorated with crockets, and the spire belongs to the early fourteenth century; whereas the spire on the north has no such connection, and is early perpendicular. we now notice the _porch_ with parvise over it. this was built late in the fourteenth century in order to give additional strength to the west front and act as a kind of buttress to the piers of the central arch. the design is very beautiful. the entrance has an obtuse arch, and above a perpendicular window with elliptical arch. buttresses empanelled with niches stand on each side. it has a stone vault of good design. one boss is curious, representing the trinity. the attitude of the saviour shows that the figure was designed by a freemason, and bears witness to the antiquity of that fraternity. the parvise is now a library. a late perpendicular gateway at the north-east, erected by abbot kirton, whose rebus appears over the side door, leads to the deanery. it has a tudor arch, with the arms of the see in spandrels, and is ornamented with tudor rose and portcullis, and prince of wales's feathers. here is the old burial-ground, and a fine view of the cathedral is obtained from the north-east. the norman character of the building is evident, though there have been many changes. the norman windows in the clerestory have been filled with perpendicular tracery. the low norman aisles have been raised, the windows taken out and replaced by thirteenth-century substitutes in the lowest range and by decorated ones in the triforium. below this the old norman arcade remains. a good norman door, called the dean's door, is in the centre of this north wall. an early english parapet crowns the aisle walls, and a decorated one surmounts the clerestory, which is continued in the _north transept_, where similar alterations have taken place, and perpendicular tracery inserted in norman windows. the central _tower_ was rebuilt in 1884. the necessity for continued rebuilding and restoration at peterborough is much to be deplored. probably the cause is the draining of the fens, which makes the clay to contract and thus produces insecure foundations. it has some good windows. we have already recorded the history of the previous structures. as much of the old work as possible was preserved in the rebuilding of the present tower. walking around the church we come to the east of transept, where formerly stood the lady chapel, pulled down at the restoration by the townspeople, and its materials sold in order to provide funds for restoring the church after puritan destruction. notice the marks of the gable of lady chapel in the transept wall. the thirteenth-century builders pierced the norman wall with lancets. the east end of peterborough is rather peculiar. there remains the old norman apse, with decorated windows inserted, and this is surrounded by what is called the _new building_, though it is 400 years old, formed by extending the walls of the choir and building a square end to the cathedral. this was erected by abbot kirton. his work possesses the best features of perpendicular style. it is richly ornamented, and when we examine his work we cannot say that the glories of gothic achievement had quite departed. we see the twelve buttresses, each terminated with a seated figure, usually said to be one of the apostles. on the south-east of the cathedral are the ruins of the infirmary of the monks, always a pleasant place in a monastery. it is a thirteenth-century building, and consisted of a hall, with aisles and a chancel. the aisles were used as cells or couches for the sick monks, and the religious services of the infirmary were performed in the chancel. on the south are the remains of the monastery. only the south and west walls of the cloister court remain. there is a good thirteenth-century doorway and perpendicular lavatory. the south view of the cathedral is very fine. passing through the cloisters, which once echoed with the tread of the monks, or saw them poring over their tomes and writing their beautiful mss., we retrace our steps to the west front and so enter the cathedral. the interior as we enter we notice the distinctive character of the norman work of which this cathedral is a notable and excellent example. in the extreme west there is a blending of the two styles of norman and early english, but the monks of peterborough clung tenaciously to their old ideas and to norman and romanesque models, and right up to the end of the twelfth century built in this style, not from any desire to imitate the work of their predecessors (as some writers assert) but from an obstinate adherence to conservative tradition. even when the glorious tide of english gothic was rising, and they could no longer resist the flood, they clung to the old zigzag mouldings. it is evident from the construction of the third column that they intended to end their church there; but happily the thirteenth-century brethren decided to rear the noble twin-towered front and the perfect portico. some of the later columns show transition work; on one side we see a norman base or capital, on the other an early english. there is a grand uninterrupted view of the whole length of the cathedral from west to east. it will be observed that the tower arch is decorated, and this adds to the beauty of this view. before leaving the west we notice some dog-tooth carved in wood, which is somewhat rare. the south end of this west transept is the baptistry, the font of which has a thirteenth-century bowl. the north end is now used as a vestry. the west window has perpendicular tracery. [illustration north-west transept] the nave has ten bays with norman arches; the triforium has likewise norman arches, but each of these has two sub-arches. the windows of the clerestory have perpendicular tracery. the _ceiling_ is intensely interesting, and is original norman work. it has various figures within lozenge-shaped medallions, viz.:--agnus dei, ss. peter, paul, edward the martyr, edward the confessor, moses, and other kings, archbishops, bishops and allegorical and grotesque figures. as we have seen from the exterior, the walls of the aisles have been raised, and later windows inserted. the roofs of the aisles were vaulted by norman builders. the visitor may discover for himself some mason marks in the south aisle. as at norwich the _choir_ begins with the two east bays of the nave, which was the original arrangement, and not unusual in benedictine minsters, and extends over the space under the tower, and besides the apse occupies four bays east of the tower. the gates are good modern iron-work. the erection of a screen is in contemplation. two pillars have been placed in position; but the scheme presents difficulties which have not yet been solved. the piers are alternately round or polygonal. this portion was the earliest part of the cathedral, and was constructed by abbot de sais (1114-1125). the hatchet moulding is conspicuous. the triforium arches are double, like the nave, and the clerestory has triple arches, the centre one being the highest. the apse is particularly fine. the decorated style is evident in the windows, which were inserted in the fourteenth century instead of the old norman ones, and the hanging tracery of graceful design was then added. the roof of the choir is late fourteenth-century work except at the east end where the roof is flat. here cromwell's soldiers discharged their muskets at the figure of our lord in glory, which they deemed to be an idol. this ceiling was decorated in 1884 by sir gilbert scott. the bosses of the rest of the roof are curious. nearly all the old glass was destroyed in the puritan desecration; the remaining fragments have been placed in the two highest east windows. the fittings of the choir are modern, except an ancient lectern of fifteenth-century date given by abbot ramsay and prior malden, as the inscription testifies, though it is now scarcely legible. the choir stalls are remarkably fine, and as the carved figures contain a history of the cathedral written in wood, it may be well to record their names. we will begin with the dean's stall and proceed eastward:- 1. st. peter, the patron saint. 2. saxulph (656), first abbot, afterwards bishop of lichfield. 3. adulph (971), abbot chancellor to king edgar, afterwards bishop of worcester, and archbishop of york. 4. kenulph (992), abbot, afterwards bishop of winchester. 5. leofric (1057), abbot. 6. turold (1069), abbot, appointed by william the conqueror. 7. ernulph (1107), abbot, afterwards bishop of rochester. 8. martin de vecti or bec (1133), abbot. during his time the choir and transept aisles were finished, and solemnly dedicated. 9. benedict (1175), abbot, keeper of the great seal for richard i. he built the greater part, if not all, of the nave. 10. martin de ramsey (1226), abbot. 11. john de caleto or calais (1249), abbot, one of the king's justices. he built the infirmary, and probably the refectory and part of the cloisters. 12. richard de london (1274), abbot. he built the north-western tower. 13. adam de boothby (1321), abbot. 14. william genge (1296), first mitred abbot. 15. richard ashton (1438), abbot. 16. robert kirton (1496), abbot. he built the deanery gateway, and the new building; his rebus, a church on a tun, carved in stone, is to be seen on most of his work. 17. john towers (1638), bishop, previously dean. 18. thomas white (1685), bishop. he was one of the seven bishops committed by james ii.; and also one of the seven non-juring bishops. 19. william connor magee (1868), bishop, afterwards archbishop of york. 20. simon patrick (1679), dean, afterwards bishop of chichester, and finally of ely. 21. augustus page saunders (1853), dean. 22. john james stewart perowne (1878), dean, afterwards bishop of worcester. the upper figures on the north side represent the following:- 1. peada (655), king of mercia, founder of the monastery. 2. cuthbald (675), second abbot. 3. king edgar and his queen. 4. ethelfleda. 5. brando (1066), abbot. 6. hereward, the saxon patriot (1070), nephew of abbot brando, and knighted by him. 7. john de sais (1114), abbot. he commenced the building of the existing choir. 8. hedda (d. 870), abbot murdered by danes. 9. robert de lindsay (1214), abbot, with model of west front. 10. godfrey of crowland (1299), abbot. gateway. 11. william ramsay (1471), abbot. 12. william parys (1286), prior, builder of lady chapel. 13. st. giles, with hart. 14. hugo candidus, historian of abbey. 15. henry de overton (1361), abbot. 16. queen catherine of arragon. 17. dean cosin, afterwards bishop of durham. 18. simon gunton (1546), historian of the church. 19. herbert march (1819), bishop. 20. george davys (1839), bishop. 21. dean monk, afterwards bishop of gloucester and bristol. 22. dean argles (1891). much history is also contained in the carvings of the pulpit and bishop's throne. the altar has a marble canopy over it, which is a magnificent piece of work, but perhaps hardly suitable for its position. the mosaic pavement is remarkably fine. we now pass into the _choir aisles_, which have norman vaulted roofs, and formerly had apsidal ends, but these were removed when abbots ashton and kirton built the _new building_ or square end to the church, or perhaps earlier, as there are some aumbreys and double piscinæ of the thirteenth century, and also on the south wall some painted shields and a scroll border of the same date. the windows are later insertions as in the nave. traces of the old entrance to the destroyed lady chapel may be seen in the north wall. we have noticed the building of the ambulatory called the new building from the exterior of excellent perpendicular work. perhaps the most striking features of the interior is the fan-tracery of the roof, the curious bosses, the rebuses of the two abbots ashton and kirton, and the monuments. the principal ones in the choir and aisles are a modern memorial stone of catherine of arragon (the old tomb was destroyed by the puritans, of which fragments have been discovered); the tablet in memory of mary queen of scots; archbishop magee's marble monument; sir humprey orme's mutilated tomb; several abbots' tombs and tablets to bishops; late saxon tombs of two archbishops of york, and the famous monks' stone which popular tradition associates with the massacre of the peterborough monks by the danes in 870. recent investigators have assigned a later date, and attribute it to norman work, but we are inclined to favour the saxon theory. we will now visit the _transepts_, which are of norman character. norman fish-scale ornament and cable and saw-tooth mouldings are plentiful. in both north and south transepts there is an eastern aisle separated by pillars and forming several chapels, which are divided off by perpendicular screens. the morning chapel occupies the aisle of the north transept, formerly the chapels of ss. john and james, and here is preserved two pieces of old flemish tapestry, and portions of the old nave screen, and ancient tiles. in this transept are some interesting saxon coffin lids. in the south transept are the chapels of ss. oswald and benedict. in the former the relics were kept. here abbot sutton's heart was buried. the window is modern. a pre-reformation inscription is carved round the edge of a stone much worn by time. the old chapter-house, now a music-room, is on the west of this transept. it is late norman. a perpendicular doorway has been inserted here instead of the old norman door. a very interesting discovery was made here during the alterations a few years ago, and that is the remains of the actual original saxon church which was sacked by the danes, rebuilt by bishop ethelwold and visited by king edgar and dunstan, and then destroyed by fire. evidences of this destruction were not wanting when the discovery was made. the east wall of the chancel stood just where the piers of the aisle of the transept stand. the church was cruciform. this discovery is of great interest and importance. old scarlett's memory must not be forgotten, the aged sexton, who lived ninety-eight years, and buried two queens in the cathedral, dying in 1594. the painting is a copy of the original made in 1747. the well-known rhymes beneath are:- "you see old scarlett's picture stand on hie, but at your feet there doth his body lye; his gravestone doth his age and death-time show, his office by these tokens you may know. second to none for strength and sturdye limm, a scarbabe mighty voice, with visage grim, he had inter'd two queens within this place and this towne's householders in his live's space twice over; but at length his own turne came, what he for others did for him the same was done; no doubt his soul doth live for aye in heaven: though here his body clad in clay." dimensions total length of interior 426 ft. nave, length 228 ft. nave, width 35 ft. transept, length 185 ft. transept, width 58 ft. height of interior 78 ft. area 41,090 sq. ft. principal building dates norman (1117-1193)--choir, transepts, central tower (rebuilt in 1886), nave, ceiling of nave, chapter-house. early english (1214-1295)--west front, font, infirmary, refectory and part of cloisters, north-west tower, windows and parapet in aisles of nave. decorated (1299-1400)--large gateway, west porch, roof of choir, south-west choir, parapet of clerestory, inserted windows. perpendicular (1400-1528)--new building, north-west spire, north-east gateway, perpendicular tracery in windows, and west window. [illustration plan of peterborough cathedral] ely cathedral ely is one of the monastic towns of england, and owes its existence to the famous church and monastery which were built here in early saxon days. the patriotic monkish chronicler of ely, who compiled the _liber eliensis_, wishing to add glory to his church, states that in 607 st. augustine founded a church at cratendune, a mile south of the present site. the first monastery on the isle of ely was founded by st. etheldreda, daughter of anna, king of the east angles. she received the isle of ely as her dowry from her first husband, an earldorman of the south girvii or fenmen, and when she married egfrid, afterwards king of northumbria, feeling the call to a religious life, she left her court and retired to the lonely isle, and there founded a monastery, of which she was the abbess. as was not unusual at that time, the house was a double one, for both monks and nuns. st. wilfrid assisted her considerably in carrying out her plans, but no fragment of this early church and monastery remains. the saintly queen died in 679, and was buried in the nuns' resting-place. some years later her body, placed in a marble sarcophagus, was translated to the saxon church. in 870 the isle was ravaged by the danes, who destroyed the church and monastery, slaying both monks and nuns, plundering the town, and returned loaded with the spoils of the pillaged island. some of the monks who escaped returned to their ruined house, and king alfred is said to have confirmed them in their possessions. king edgar, by the advice of dunstan, archbishop of canterbury, and ethelwold, bishop of winchester, reorganised the monastery under the benedictine rule, restored to it all its lands, and made brihtnoth the first abbot. the norman conquest brought many troubles to the isle of ely. the monks espoused the cause of hereward, "the last of the english," the hero of charles kingsley's romance, and here he made his last great stand against the norman invaders; but the monks "did after their kind," and surrendered to the conqueror in 1071. little harm was done to the monastic buildings by the warriors of either side, and twelve years later the building of the present cathedral was begun by abbot simeon, brother of walkelin, bishop of winchester. he commenced with the transepts, some parts of which still declare themselves to be his work. abbot richard (1100-1107) continued the building, and finished the east end, where the body of st. etheldreda was conveyed and reburied before the high altar. ely was now raised to the dignity of a bishopric, the revenues of the abbot being used for the endowment of the see, and henceforth the prior was the head of the monastery. the building of the church proceeded gradually. the nave was growing by degrees during the twelfth century, and bishop riddell (1174-1189), by his energy, did much towards its completion and that of the great west tower. the isle was much disturbed during the troublous time of stephen's reign, and the bishop took the part of the enemies of the king, who exacted heavy fines from the prelate and his monks. bishop eustace (1198-1215) accomplished much, and erected the beautiful galilee porch. in 1235 the building of the noble presbytery was begun by bishop northwold (1229-1254), and here, in the presence of king henry iii. and his court, the shrines of the founders and of three other abbesses were removed, and the whole church in ground plan completed as we see it to-day. [illustration arm of abbot's chair] having finished their church, the monks turned their attention to their domestic buildings, and to the lady chapel, which stands here in an unusual position. it was erected by alan de walsingham (the sub-prior) in 1321, and finished in 1349. in 1322 a sad calamity happened--the central tower fell, and caused much destruction. but the catastrophe called forth the constructive genius of alan de walsingham, a prince among architects, who built the beautiful octagon and lantern tower, which add so much grace and beauty to the building. the superb lady chapel, with its marvellous sculptured work, the sub-structure of st. etheldreda's shrine, and prior crauden's chapel--a perfect gem of beauty and originality--are all alan de walsingham's work. the monks elected this great builder bishop of ely, but the pope refused to ratify the election. he is admirably described on his tomb as the _flos operatorum_, or "flower of craftsmen." [illustration west tower from deanery gardens] in this period decorated windows were inserted in the triforium of the presbytery, the outside walls being raised for this purpose, and flying buttresses added. the cathedral then appeared externally much as we see it to-day. the perpendicular style finds few examples in ely except in some of the smaller chapels and one or two windows. [illustration the assumption of the blessed virgin mary lady chapel.] at the reformation the monastery shared the fate of similar institutions, and a dean and chapter were appointed. the fact that the bishop occupied the place of the abbot of the monastery is observable in the position of the bishop's seat, which is south of the entrance to the choir. he has not a throne, which most bishops have in their cathedrals. ely was spared much destruction in the civil war. the parliamentarians pulled down some of the cloisters, and broke a few windows, but the cathedral fared better than most others at the hands of cromwell. it has suffered, however, from the fancies of "restorers." in 1770 the ritual choir, with the stalls, was moved from under the octagon to the extreme east end, to be again moved to its present position in 1847. about the same time the massive norman stone screen, which for eight centuries had stood across the nave, was ruthlessly destroyed, and the roof of the upper hall of the galilee porch removed, and the western opening of the tower arch filled with a modern window. wyatt's destructive hand was only just restrained from working further mischief, though some authorities make him responsible for the removal of the screen and the destruction of the roof of the galilee. a vast amount of money has during the last century been spent upon the fabric, and happily the restorers have been, in the main, governed by good taste and sounder architectural knowledge than that of their destructive predecessors. the exterior as you ascend the hill from the station you will undoubtedly be struck by the external appearance of this magnificent pile. professor freeman remarked that the first glimpse of ely overwhelmed us, not only by its stateliness and variety of outline, but by its utter strangeness and unlikeness to anything else. its huge western tower, its beautiful but curious central octagon, are quite peculiar, and the general view, especially from the north-west, is extremely fine, and can never be forgotten. we will begin our survey, as usual, with the _west front_, which has been much altered, but remains a very imposing structure. it will be noticed that the north side differs from the south, and either was never completed or fell into decay. they both belong to the late norman or transitional period. the _galilee porch_ is a perfect gem of exquisite architecture. it has been pronounced "the most gorgeous porch of this style in existence, combining the most elegant general forms with the richest detail." the style is early english, and is the work of bishop eustace (1198-1215), who was ordered by the pope to excommunicate king john, and had to fly from england in consequence. it will be seen that this porch is one of the earliest examples of good early english work, and for its excellence and perfection rivals the choir at lincoln. there is a profusion of dog-tooth ornament. the doorways are most graceful. the main arch is divided into two cinquefoiled sub-arches, separated by a slender shaft, and in the head there is very beautiful tracery. the walls are covered with arcading, of lancet-shaped arches cinquefoiled. in the interior there is a beautiful double arcading, similar to that which we have seen at lincoln. [illustration ely cathedral from south-east] the _west tower_ is earlier than the porch, and its lower stages are transition norman. the upper stages are early english, except the highest octagonal stage, which is decorated. bishops riddell and northwold were the builders of earlier stages, and the octagonal summit was built during the bishopric of john fordham (1388-1425). this magnificent tower has been a source of continual anxiety to the monks and masons of ely, on account of the great weight of the superstructure, and continual repairs and strengthening operations have been needed. [illustration the octagon and lantern from north-west] the _north side_ of the nave preserves its norman character, but perpendicular windows with ogee arches have been inserted. formerly the church of st. cross stood on this side, erected by walsingham, but it fell into decay and was pulled down in 1566. we can still see the walled-up door in the north wall of the cathedral which led to this parish church. norman mouldings (such as the billet) may be seen round the arches of the windows in the clerestory. the curious and beautiful _octagon_ is a striking feature of ely. it consists of an eight-sided tower crowned with an octagonal lantern, the dimensions of which are much smaller than those of the tower which supports it. decorated windows of large size occupy the sides facing north-west, north-east, south-west and south-east, which are narrower than the other sides. turrets crowned with pinnacles stand at each corner of the lower tower, and quadrangular turrets at each corner of the lantern, which is made of wood. the whole has been recently restored with the greatest possible success. the _north transept_ is norman. some perpendicular and decorated windows have been inserted, and the north-west corner, which fell in 1699, was rebuilt by the builder of st. paul's, london, sir christopher wren, who inserted the renaissance door in the north side. the _lady chapel_ has been pronounced to be one of the finest specimens of decorated architecture in the kingdom. it is the work of walsingham, and was finished in 1349. the east and west windows are later insertions, but belong to the same century. the building is oblong, and is enriched with much beautiful carving; niches destitute of figures appear in the buttresses, and at the east and west ends. the tracery of the side windows should be noticed. the _presbytery_ is fine early english work, built by bishop northwold (1229-1254), and has been scarcely altered by succeeding builders. the windows are double lancets in each bay, and in the clerestory three lancets under an arch, the centre one higher than the others. the arrangement of the east end is as follows:--in the lower stage three tall lancets with dog-tooth moulding, above them five lancets of unequal height, and in the gable three lancets of the same height. buttresses carved with niches stand on each side, and flying buttresses springing from the side buttresses support the roof. alterations have been made in the triforium in order to increase the light in the church. the _south transept_ is norman, with some later windows inserted. notice the curious perpendicular window on the south side. the _cloister court_ was on the south side of the church, but was destroyed by the commissioners of cromwell. two doorways are remarkable, named the _monks' door_ and _prior's door_, both late norman work, and enriched with much carving. the tympanum over the prior's door contains a representation of our lord in glory. the interior we now enter the church at the west end, and are struck by the noble character of this magnificent norman work. it consists of twelve bays (there were thirteen before the central tower fell). the two eastern bays were finished by abbot richard (1100-1107), and the rest completed by bishop riddell (1147-1189). the earlier character of the five bays nearer the central tower is discoverable. the ceiling was painted forty years ago by mr. le strange and mr. gambier parry, whose artistic work can also be seen at gloucester. the subjects are the creation, the fall, noah sacrificing, the sacrifice of isaac, jacob's dream, marriage of ruth, jesse, david, annunciation, nativity, adoration of the shepherds and magi, the lord in glory. we see also representations of the patriarchs and prophets, and in the medallions at the sides the heads of the human ancestors of our lord. the west window was inserted at the close of the eighteenth century and filled with modern glass (when the roof of the upper hall of the porch was removed), thus effectively blocking the view of the three great lancets, 40 feet further west, through which, up to that time, the setting sun must day by day, through so many centuries, have flooded the nave with its evening light. [illustration st. catherine's chapel] at the west end, under the tower, we notice the strengthening of the original pillars with additional perpendicular work. the arches of the tower, though norman, are pointed, showing that they were erected at the end of that period, and the richness of ornament and detail of the southern portion of the west transept bears out the same conclusion. _st. catherine's chapel_ is in the south corner, rebuilt in the old style, and the font is modern. the _nave aisles_ have arcades of norman arches, and the chevron moulding appears about them in several parts where it has not been cut away. in the south aisle is an interesting memorial of ovin, the steward of st. etheldreda, which has been recovered from a neighbouring village. it is part of a cross, with the inscription on the base--"_lucem tuam ovino da deus et requiem. amen._" (o god, give light and rest to ovin. amen). the _octagon_ would require a volume adequately to record its many beauties and perfections. we have already described its construction. it is pronounced by all architects as the gem of the cathedral, and one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. the vault is of wood, and a remarkable series of paintings appears on the boarding. the crucifixion and the apostles are here represented. large corbels have sculptured scenes of the life of st. etheldreda. the vault has been painted by mr. gambier parry. [illustration in south aisle of nave looking to north transept] the _transepts_ were the portions of the church first begun by abbot simeon when he first commenced the present norman cathedral. the lower part of the walls and part of the triforium were built by him and finished by abbot richard (1100-1107). the arcading in the south transept is transitional, and the upper windows late decorated. [illustration carrol in cloister] perpendicular windows have been inserted in the north transept. there are three chapels at the east of the north transept, one of which bears the name of st. edmund, and is divided off by a wooden screen of the middle of the fourteenth century. the east aisle of the south transept is walled off and used as the library, and the west as the vestry. a modern oak screen of graceful design, replacing a massive norman screen ruthlessly destroyed in 1760, separates the octagon from the _choir_, which we now enter. it will be remembered that the central tower fell and carried away three bays of the choir. hence the work of these bays is later than the more eastern portion forming the presbytery, which was built by bishop northwold (1229-1254) in early english style. the choir was erected by bishop hotham (1316-1337), and is a noble specimen of decorated work. between the choir and presbytery are fine norman piers of the earlier choir. on the bosses of the roof we see figures of st. etheldreda and the virgin. the east wall is pierced by lancet windows, which are grouped in a most perfect manner. the stalls are splendid examples of decorated work, and the _misereres_ have some curious grotesques. the fifty carved panels of scenes from the old and new testament are by abeloos of louvain, a modern wood-carver. the lectern is modern, and also the reredos. of this eastern part freeman says:--"nowhere can we better study the boldly clustered marble pier with its detached shafts, the richly foliated capitals with their round abaci, the yet richer corbels which bear up the marble vaulting shafts, the bold and deeply cut mouldings of every arch great and small. lovelier detail was surely never wrought by the hand of man." on each side of the presbytery are some ancient monuments of especial interest. on the south side, beginning at the west, we see bishop william de louth (1298), a fine tomb of early decorated character; bishop barnet (1373), translated from bath and wells (the effigy has been lost); tiptoft, earl of worcester, with his two wives, one of whom was the sister of "the king-maker," earl of warwick (this earl was one of the victims of edward iv., and lost his head in 1470. he was a great patron of learning and art, and fuller exclaims, "the axe did at one blow cut off more learning than was left in the heads of all the surviving nobility"); bishop hotham (1337), much mutilated. on the opposite side are the monuments of--bishop northwold (1254), which affords a good illustration of the ecclesiastical dress of the period (at the foot of the tomb is an interesting representation of the martyrdom of king edmund, who shared the fate of st. sebastian. northwold was abbot of st. edmundsbury before he came to ely, hence the origin of the carving); a shrine, believed to be that of st. etheldreda, of decorated design, probably constructed by walsingham about 1340; bishop kilkenny (1286), who died in spain, his heart being buried here; bishop redman (1505), a fine perpendicular structure. at the end of the north aisle is the chantry of bishop alcock (1500), a fine perpendicular work in good preservation, though the figures which once adorned it were destroyed at the reformation. he founded jesus college, cambridge, and built ely palace. on the east is the inscription, "_johannes alkoc epus eliensis hanc fabriciam fieri fecit 1488_." in this aisle are the supposed arm of northwold's chair, which he brought from his abbey (the sculpture represents the wolf with st. edmund's head in his paws), and the tombs of bishop marson (1771), bishop patrick (1707), and basevi, architect of the fitzwilliam museum, cambridge. in the retro-choir are the monuments of bishop allen (1845), canon fardell (1819), cardinal louis de luxembourg, bishop, 1444, and an early muniment chest. at the east end of the south aisle is bishop west's chantry (1534), a beautiful chapel in the late perpendicular and renaissance style. the carving is very elaborate, with delicate tracery. this bishop was the champion and chaplain of catherine of arragon, henry viii.'s queen. above his tomb, in seven small niches, are deposited the bones of six saxon bishops and of earl bryhtnoth, killed by the danes in 991, who exclaimed when he died, "god of nations, i thank thee for all the joy i have had in life." here are the tombs of bishops woodford (1885), sparke (1836), keene (1781). in the south aisle are--an ancient gravestone of norman date, representing michael carrying to heaven the soul of a bishop, with the inscription, "_st. michael oret pro me_"; bishop hotham (1337), canon selwyn (1875), dean steward (1557), last prior and first dean of ely; bishop gunning (1684), author of _the prayer for all conditions of men_; bishop goodrich (1554), a zealous reformer, destroyer of images and shrines, compiler of "duties to god and neighbour," in the _catechism_; bishop heton (1609), dean tyndall (1614), and other monuments. the _lady chapel_ is a superb structure, with its beautiful sculptured work, one of the finest specimens of decorated architecture in the kingdom in spite of the cruel mutilation to which it was subjected at the reformation. it was completed in 1349, but the east window is a little later and shows evidence of the approach of the perpendicular period. an arcade of sculptured canopies runs round the walls, of extremely delicate carving. the mythical history of the virgin and of julian the apostate appear in the spandrels, and the bosses of the roof have some sculptured figures representing the crucifixion, ascension, annunciation, the virgin crowned, the virgin and elizabeth, and some which cannot be distinguished. * * * * * [my thanks are due to the dean of ely for his kind assistance in interpreting the history of the cathedral which he knows and loves so well.] dimensions total length 517 ft. length of nave 230 ft. breadth of nave 78 ft. height of vault 70 ft. length of transept 190 ft. diameter of octagon 65 ft. height of west tower 215 ft. area 46,000 sq. ft. principal building dates 1083-1189--transepts, nave, lower stages of tower, monks' and prior's doorways. 1189-1254--galilee porch, presbytery, upper stages of tower. 1316-1349--lady chapel, octagon, choir, windows of triforium of presbytery, buttresses, prior crauden's chapel, stalls. 1388-1534--highest stage of tower, chapel and some windows. 1699--north-west corner of north transept and doorway. [illustration plan of ely cathedral] norwich cathedral norwich, the capital of east anglia, is a delightful city, beautifully situated on the winding wensum and full of the charm of the associations of mediæval times. the hill on which the castle stands carries our thoughts back to saxon days, to king uffa in the sixth century. saxon, dane and norman held sway here. it was also the city of the dutch. the cruelties of alva sent flemings and walloons, who came with their silks and threads and worsteds and implements, and made the textile manufactures the glory and fortune of the county. here kings kept their christmas feasts, and in no less royal fashion did the old dukes of norfolk, when norwich was the gayest of episcopal cities. very independent were the turbulent burghers, who often contended with the monks and bishops for rights and privileges, as when in 1272 they quarrelled over the tolls of a fair, and sacked the cathedral, and in 1549 when kett the tanner raised his formidable rebellion, which was with difficulty subdued. few cities can rival norwich in the interest of its associations and the treasures of antiquity which here abound. the cathedral--its history the see of norwich was created in norman times, dunwich, elmham and thetford having previously been the episcopal seats. in the time of rufus there was a general transference of bishoprics to the larger towns, in accordance with a decree of a church synod, hence in 1094 norwich had the honour conferred on it by bishop herbert de losinga, who two years later commenced his cathedral. this bishop obtained his preferment by simony, and it is said built the church in expiation of his crime. beginning at the east end "he finished the church as far as the altar of st. william,"[19] which was on the north side of the present screen. this included the choir and transepts with the two chapels and two bays of the nave. his successor, bishop eborard, finished the nave. herbert built also a bishop's palace, and a monastery of benedictine monks was attached to the cathedral. a curious scene was witnessed here in 1144 when a number of jews were tried for the ritual murder of the boy saint, st. william of norwich, in thorpe wood, whom they cruelly tortured. the houses of the jews were plundered, and in memory of the miracle-working boy a chapel was built on the scene of his murder, and a shrine erected in the cathedral. fire played its usual destructive part here, as elsewhere, in 1171, and the church was repaired and perfected by bishop john of oxford in 1197. in the early english period there seems to have been little progress, except the building of the lady chapel at the east end by walter de suffield (1244-1257), which was destroyed in the time of queen elizabeth. the entrance only remains. very stormy times befell the cathedral at the end of the thirteenth century. the city was sacked by the revolting barons in 1266, and a few years later a dispute arose between the citizens and the prior about the right of tolls to a fair held in the tombland at whitsuntide, which were of much profit to the monastery. it was the same story which is told of many towns, the quarrels of the burghers and the ecclesiastics. in 1272 the disputants fell to blows, and some of the citizens were slain. they arrested some of the men of the monastery for murder, and an interdict was hurled by the prior against them. moreover, he imported three barges-full of mercenaries who plundered the burghers' houses and killed and wounded many. reprisals followed. the citizens stormed the priory and cathedral, routed and slew the monks and their mercenaries, set fire to the buildings, and pillaged the church. such violence against the church was then unheard of, and dire punishment was inflicted on the citizens of norwich. the pope excommunicated them, henry iii. deprived them of their liberties, and ordered 3000 marks to be paid towards the restoration of the cathedral. new gates and gatehouses were erected by order of the pope in order to prevent the renewal of such sacrilege, and st. ethelbert's gate was built at the close of the thirteenth century to guard the precincts. history concludes that the violence of the fierce prior was the main cause of the trouble, and not the obstinacy of the people. the work of restoration was immediately begun and the church reconsecrated in 1278 in the presence of king edward i. and his queen and a grand assembly of bishops, knights and nobles, when bishop middleton was raised to the see. his successor, bishop ralph de walpole, began to rebuild the cloisters, which were continued by bishop salmon, and form some of the largest and most beautiful in the country. their style is mainly decorated, but there is some perpendicular work constructed in bishop wakering's time, who was a great persecutor of the lollards (1416-1425). the chapter-house was erected by walpole. in the time of edward iv. troubles sore oppressed the diocese. bishop anthony, who was of a violent and imperious spirit, rendered himself very obnoxious to the monks, and was poisoned by his servants, and six years later the black death is said to have carried off 50,000 inhabitants. this was in the time of bishop bateman, buried at avignon, a mighty prelate who compelled the powerful lord morley to do penance in the cathedral for killing the bishop's deer. the lofty spire was blown down by a fierce hurricane in 1361, and rebuilt by bishop percy, who rebuilt also the clerestory. his successor, henry de despencer, was a very warlike prelate, who ruled with an iron hand. he crushed the revolting peasants in 1381, and fought in the netherlands for pope urban vi. against the adherents of his rival, clement. the vicissitudes of prelates were great in those days; both he and his successor, totington, were imprisoned by the king. bishop alnwick (1426-1449) began to alter the west front, and bishop lyhart put in the large west window and built the rood-screen and vaulted the nave. during the rule of bishop browne (1436-1445) the quarrel between the burghers and the monks again broke out, and the former besieged the monastery, for which conduct the king deprived them of their rights and liberties. a fire occurred in 1463, caused by lightning striking the spire, and did much damage to the presbytery, which was restored by bishop goldwell (1472-1499), who also finished the spire. fire again did much damage in 1509 during the rule of bishop nykke or nix (1501-1536), whose reputation was not so unblemished as his name (_snow_). the transept roof was destroyed, which nykke rebuilt in stone. the dissolution of monasteries soon followed in 1538, and norwich shared the fate of the rest. the cathedral foundation was renewed, the last prior being made the first dean. the church suffered from the usual acts of spoliation and desecration at the hands of the commissioners of edward vi. and the puritans. dean gardiner (1573-1589) destroyed the chapter-house and the beautiful lady chapel. bishop hall (1641-1656) thus alludes to the misdeeds of the puritans:- "it is tragical to relate the furious sacrilege committed under the authority of lindsey, tofts the sheriff, and greenwood; what clattering of glasses, what beating down of walls, what tearing down of monuments, what pulling down of seats, and wresting out of irons and brass from the windows and graves; what defacing of arms, what demolishing of curious stone-work, that had not any representation in the world but the cost of the founder and the skill of the mason; what piping on the destroyed organ pipes; vestments, both copes and surplices, together with the leaden cross, which had been newly sawn down from over the green yard pulpit, and the singing books and service books were carried to the fire in the public market place; a lewd wretch walking before the train, in his cope, trailing in the dirt, with a service book in his hand, imitating in an impious scorn the tune, and usurping the words of the litany; the ordnance being discharged on the guild day, the cathedral was filled with musketeers, drinking and tobaccoing, as freely as if it had turned ale-house." the citizens joined eagerly in the work of spoliation and burned in the open market, by order of the court of assembly, "moses and aaron, and four evangelists that came from the cathedral, and some other superstitious pictures." the restoration of the monarchy caused the restoration of the cathedral. a new organ and church plate were presented, and since that time much restoration has taken place, which has greatly enhanced the glory and beauty of this ancient house of god. the exterior we enter the cathedral precincts by the erpingham gate, built by sir thomas erpingham, a knight who fought at agincourt, and is mentioned by shakespeare (_henry v._, act iv). the style is early perpendicular. notice the figures of saints in the arch moulding, the donor's kneeling figure in the niche above the arch, his arms and those of his two wives on the buttresses, and the word _yenk_ (think) on the shafts. the other gates are that of st. ethelbert, early decorated, much restored, built by the citizens in expiation of their sacrilege in 1272, and the bishop's gate leading to the palace, built by bishop alnwyck in early perpendicular style. [illustration exterior view of norwich cathedral] entering by the erpingham gate, on the left is the grammar school, formerly the chapel of st. john the evangelist, founded by bishop salmon in 1315. below was a charnel-house, now used as a gymnasium. the porch was added by lyhart at the end of the fifteenth century. here nelson was educated, and george borrow and many other distinguished men. the _west front_, in spite of its noble window, is far from being a satisfactory compilation. the injudicious restoration of 1875 has had much to do with this. portions of the original norman work remain in a great part of the wall, two side doors, arcades and windows above. the main doorway was erected by bishop alnwyck, who seems to have cased the old norman with perpendicular work--an arch of the old work was uncovered by dean goulburn. the same bishop left money for the great perpendicular window of nine lights, which was erected by bishop lyhart. we can see the result of perverse modern restoration by comparing the present front with those shown in earlier illustrations, and discover that the towers flanking the great window have been cut down and shorn of their cupolas, and also the turrets at the extreme north and south have suffered a like deprivation, and some inelegant pinnacles erected instead, while the battlemented parapet has been removed, and some ridiculous little round windows inserted. certainly the efforts of modern architects have not been crowned with success. the best view of the long nave is obtained from the upper close, or from the cloister garth. the wall is divided into three storeys. behind the cloisters some late windows have been inserted in the aisle. above the cloisters we see a norman arcade with norman windows over it, which have been blocked up; above them a row of perpendicular windows, with a battlemented parapet, and above this a row of norman windows, and parapet added later. two perpendicular windows were inserted at the west end by bishop nykke. norman buttresses divide the windows. the north side resembles the south, and is enclosed by the bishop's garden. the south transept is norman, but it has been recased with new stone, and pyramid caps set on the turrets in imitation of norman work, instead of some perpendicular turrets which these replaced. why will architects and restorers thus destroy the history of a building written in stone by trying to imitate what they imagine to have been the original form? on the east is the dean's vestry, formerly a chapel. the chapter-house and ancient slype have been destroyed, also an apse-shaped chapel on the east side of the south transept. the _choir_ in its lower storeys resembles the nave, with its norman arcade, windows, and inserted perpendicular windows, but it has a lofty clerestory of late decorated style supported by flying buttresses, erected by bishop percy, when the fall of the spire destroyed the old norman clerestory. carved figures surmount the summits of the exterior buttresses. there are projecting chapels of st. mary-the-less (decorated), st. luke and the jesus chapel (norman).[20] the lady chapel was destroyed by iconoclastic dean gardiner, as we have mentioned, who regarded lady chapels as relics of popery. the north front is very similar to the south, and needs no separate description. the chief glory of norwich is its _tower_ and _spire_. the tower is a very fine example of norman work. at the four corners are noble norman buttresses, crowned with crocketed pinnacles, added in early perpendicular times, when the fall of the old wooden spire had carried away the original norman ones. on the surface of each wall are three norman arcades, and in the upper and lower three of the arches have been pierced with windows, and above are two rows of small circular windows. the spire is perpendicular work, erected by bishops lyhart and goldwell towards the end of the fifteenth century. may it long escape the fate of its predecessors, one of which was blown down in 1361, and the other struck by lightning, on each occasion causing considerable damage to the church. the _bishop's palace_ is on the north, founded by bishop herbert, but subsequent alterations have left little of the original structure. some of the original vaulting is in the basement, and the ruin in the garden is the remains of the great hall built by bishop salmon in 1318. in the chapel are monuments to bishop reynolds (1661-1676) and bishop sparrow, a learned divine, who assisted in the revision of the prayer book in 1661. there was a curious open-air pulpit, with a cross over it, somewhat similar to paul's cross in london, on the north, in what was known as green yard. galleries were erected around it, and good accommodation provided for the mayor and his officers, with their ladies, who came in summer time to hear the sermons. the interior the view of the nave from the west end is magnificent. a long vista of norman arches, and beautiful expanse of vaulted lierne roofing, is most impressive. a fine screen, with organ above it, prevents a full view of the whole interior, but this detracts nothing from the grandeur of the view. the nave has fourteen piers on each side, divided into seven bays, two arches to each bay. the lower arches, and those in the triforium, are about equal. each pier has several shafts attached. a lofty shaft runs up the face of the main arch to support the roof. the zigzag and billet mouldings will be observed on the arches. the clerestory is norman, and has triple arches. the first norman prelate, herbert, built the nave as far as the two most eastern bays, and his successor, eborard, finished it. the old norman roof was destroyed by fire in 1463, when bishop lyhart, who loved to display his punning rebus, a stag lying in water, erected the lierne stone vaulted roof, which is a noble specimen of its kind. the bosses are very interesting, and contain a full epitome of bible history from the creation to the descent of the holy spirit, and include the terrors of hades and the final judgment. one boss is absent, and through the hole in the roof it is conjectured that on whitsunday a white pigeon was released and a burning censer swung, as an eyewitness testifies to a similar representation in old st. paul's. there is a somewhat similar custom in florence at the present time. [illustration a bay n side of nave.] we notice in the west the large window erected by lyhart, with modern glass, and the norman arch over the door. the north aisle has decorated windows inserted in the norman walls. a reconstruction of the roof was made in the fifteenth century, when the walls were raised and perpendicular windows added, and the slope of the roof changed into one much less steep. the _south aisle_ differs little from the north. in the centre was bishop nykke's chapel, which he devised for himself, to perpetuate a not very desirable memory. here we have late perpendicular work in the vaulting and windows. few monuments or brasses escaped the destructive hands of the puritans. in the aisles there are a few--the altar tomb of sir t. wyndham and four wives; dean prideaux (d. 1724), a distinguished divine, the author of _the connection between the old and new testament_, sir john hobart, attorney-general to henry vii. (1507); bishop parkhurst (1574). the _choir_ occupies the space between the two last arches of the nave, being shut off from it by an interesting stone _screen_. the lower part of this structure is ancient, having been erected by bishop lyhart in perpendicular style. the upper portion was added about 1830. two altars stood near the central door, one dedicated to the boy saint of norwich, st. william, slain by the jews. the scanty remains of these altars mark the site of two chapels, over which were the rood-loft and organ, destroyed by the iconoclastic puritans, whose sacrilege and abominable riotings have been already mentioned in the records left us by bishop hall. at the restoration dean croft endeavoured to remedy the result of their evil deeds, and fashioned a new organ which, with additions and improvements, remains and stands over the screen. modern taste has removed some of the obstructions erected in times when the ideas of beauty and fitness were defective, and the alterations and improvements of the east end were not concluded till a few years ago. the stalls are very good perpendicular work, fashioned at the time when the art of wood-carving had attained its highest development. the _misereres_ are specially worthy of examination. the old popular legend is often repeated concerning them, that if one of the monks fell asleep during service, and caused the bench to fall, he was condemned to severe penance. this idea has no foundation in fact, as the raised seat was designed, as its name implies, out of _pity_ for the infirmities of the brethren, and not for any idea of punishment. the bishop's throne and pulpit are modern, and the lectern is good decorated work. the presbytery was damaged on two occasions by the fall of the tower, and these accidents obliged subsequent repairs and alterations, which were constructed in the style then in use. hence we have blended with the old norman work the decorated clerestory of bishop percy (1355-1369), and the perpendicular roof of bishop goldwell, erected a century later. the lower arches were altered by the same bishop into the perpendicular style, and his name is preserved in the canting rebus--gold and a well. the old norman triforium remains. the vaulting of the roof is curious. between each pair of clerestory windows is a niche, and from the heads of these spring the ribs, which form a beautiful example of lierne vaulting. the eastern termination is the original norman apse, built by bishop herbert. the old bishop's throne is particularly interesting, chiefly from its position in the centre of the apse, with the presbyters' seats on each side. this idea was probably derived from rome, where this position was not uncommon, though unusual in this country. the bishop's throne at torcelli is a well-known example of this use. the present altar is modern, and also the present floor, designed by sir arthur blomfield. [illustration ancient bishop's throne] the following are the principal _monuments_:-a slab marks the resting place of bishop herbert, the founder; goldwell's chantry and tomb; bishop wakering's tomb (d. 1425); bishop overall (d. 1619); sir w. boleyn (d. 1505). the _north transept_, built by herbert, has good norman arcading, and a vault erected by nykke. the clerestory resembles the nave. there was at the east an apsidal chapel dedicated to st. anne, but it is now closed and used for baser purposes. a processional path runs round the presbytery. on the north side is a curious bridge, which was connected with the reliquary chapel, now destroyed, situated on the exterior of the church. this bridge was an ante-chapel to that in which the relics were stored, and is adorned with mural paintings. probably relics were exhibited here for the worship of the pilgrims, who went in procession along the path below. [illustration bridge north aisle of presbytery.] the curiously-shaped _chapels_--the _jesus_ and _st. luke's_--with their norman arcading are next seen. in the former there is some mural painting much restored--a facsimile of the ancient picture--and over the chapel is a museum. the latter is a parish church for the precincts. the windows are sham norman, having been inserted in the last century. there is a mutilated font of fifteenth century, carved with crucifixion and seven sacraments. above it is the treasury. here is a curious oil painting accidentally discovered by professor willis, which was part of a reredos, converted into a table after the puritan outbreak. it is sometimes attributed to an italian artist of 1370, but there is no reason to suppose that it was not the production of genuine english art of that period. even dean stanley attributes the eleanor bronze to an italian, torel, and professor freeman calls de noyer of lincoln a "crazy frenchman," and others ascribe the exeter chancel-screen to french workmen. this error of attributing pure english work to foreign artists has caused a very unjust depreciation of the skill and genius of our native craftsmen. the subjects of these paintings are the last scenes of our lord's life. other mural paintings are:--on ceiling of sacrist's room of late thirteenth century--subjects: virgin, ss. catherine, margaret, andrew, peter, paul, and richard of chichester. on south wall of south aisle--ss. wulstan, edward the confessor, and others. the lady chapel has been destroyed, as we have said, by dean gardiner in elizabeth's reign, but happily the doorway remains, the only part of the cathedral of early english workmanship. the profusion of the dog-tooth ornament is evident. the doorway is formed of a double arch, with clustered shafts, and was built, together with the lady chapel, about the middle of the thirteenth century by bishop walter de suffield. stone was brought from caen and barnack for the purpose. the destruction of these lady chapels was a sign of the decay in the worship of the virgin, which was so extensively followed in mediæval times. there is another chapel on the south; that of st. mary-the-less, now used as the consistory court, built by one bauchun in the fourteenth century. an ecclesiastical lawyer, seckington, added the groined roof in the fifteenth century. the altar has been displaced by a doorway. the sculptured bosses represent the legendary history of the virgin. we enter the _south transept_ by a tudor doorway, over which is some rich open screen work of fifteenth-century design, under the original norman arch. this transept, built by herbert, is fine norman work, with good arcading, the vault being added by bishop nykke. this transept has the oldest coloured glass in the cathedral, a copy of raphael's ascension, erected by dean lloyd in 1790. here we see the following _monuments_:-bishop bathurst (d. 1837), by chantrey; and memorial tablets to east anglian heroes who fell in china and afghanistan. the _cloisters_ are extremely interesting and beautiful. we enter them by the prior's door, a fine decorated work, having four columns on each side, with archivolt mouldings, in front of which are seven canopied niches, with richly-sculptured crockets, containing figures. the norman cloisters, probably constructed of wood, were destroyed in 1272, at the time of the citizens' revolt. the east walk was rebuilt by bishop walpole (1289-1299) in early decorated style. his successor, bishop salmon, built the south walk, the windows of which show a great advance in the same style, the windows having flowing tracery. the west walk has also late decorated work, and the north walk has at the east end an early decorated window, at the west end two late decorated, while the other five are perpendicular in their tracery. this part was finished by bishop alnwyck (1426-1436). the slype and chapter-house have both been destroyed. the usual plan of benedictine monasteries was followed here. the dormitory was on the east side, the refectory on the south, with entrance at south-west corner, and near to this is the monks' lavatory, the kitchen being further west. carved figures representing the temptation of adam and eve are above this door leading to the refectory. the locutory or parlour of the monks was on the west side of the cloisters and the hospitium, and from this walk the _monks' door_ leads us back to the cathedral. the bosses are extremely interesting. in the east walk the subjects are foliage, the four evangelists, the scourging, crucifixion and resurrection of christ, and nebuchadnezzar eating grass. in the south and west, scenes from the book of the revelation of st. john; and in the north, legends of the saints--christopher, laurence (being burnt on a gridiron); the dancing of herodias's daughter before herod, which represents her as tumbling rather than dancing, in accordance with the usual conceptions of mediæval artists. dimensions length of church 407 ft. nave length 252 ft. nave to choir-screen 204 ft. width of nave 72 ft. height of roof 95 ft. height of spire (from ground) 315 ft. height of tower 140 ft. height of spire from tower 174 ft. area 34,800 sq. ft. objects of interest in norwich the _castle_, of which i have already written. _guild hall_, parts of which were built in 1407, and contains much that is interesting--portraits of norwich worthies, regalia, etc. _st. andrew's hall_, once the church of the dominicans, in perpendicular style, which has passed through many vicissitudes, and has some good pictures. norwich abounds in interesting churches- st. john of timberhill--norman font, squint; parvise, principally decorated. all saints--fine perpendicular font. st. michael-at-thorn--norman doorway, curious registers. st. peter, mancroft; st. gregory, pottergate; st. giles, st. helen's, st. john the baptist, st. michael-at-plea. the stranger's hall is well worthy of a visit, and norwich abounds in objects of the greatest interest. the old "maid's head" hotel is one of the most ancient and interesting hostels in the kingdom. principal building dates norman (1091-1145)--choir, transept with chapels, nave and tower. early english (1244-1257)--door of lady chapel. (1278-1299)--ethelbert's gate, east walk of cloisters. decorated (1299-1369)--chapter-house and cloisters, clerestory of presbytery, chapel of st. mary-the-less, some windows. perpendicular (1420-1538)--west front altered, erpingham gate, presbytery restored, vault of nave and transepts, spire, screen, stalls, some windows, bishop's gate. (1573-1859)--chapter-house and lady chapel destroyed. [illustration plan of norwich cathedral] footnotes: [19] _registrum primum._ [20] the restorers have been very busy here, and most of the windows are imitations of norman work. st. alban's cathedral st. albans, the ancient verulam, is one of the most ancient towns in england, and is replete with historical associations. it was the home of the british chieftain cassivellaunus before the romans came. boadicea killed many of the people for loving the romans; and soon came christianity, and then the record of the slaying of st. alban, britain's proto-martyr. it was during the diocletian persecution that alban sheltered a deacon named amphibalus from the fury of the oppressors, and was himself converted to the christian faith. alban enabled his guest to escape, and was himself seized and slain, many miracles taking place at his execution. offa founded a monastery here in 793, near his manor-house--of which the earthworks remain--and dedicated it to the saint, finding the remains of the martyr, which he placed in a reliquary and deposited in the church. the monks introduced here were benedictine, of which order this was the chief house in the kingdom. the town increased, and ulsi, the sixth abbot, founded the three churches of ss. peter, michael, and stephen. we need not dwell on the records of saxon abbots, many of whom were of royal descent. when the normans came, paul of caen, a relative of lanfranc, was made abbot in 1077, and rebuilt the church, using the roman town of verulam as a quarry. he found much material collected by the last two saxon abbots, who intended to build a new church, but were prevented by the troubles of the time. the large amount of roman tiles used in the construction of the building is apparent. much of his work remains in the eastern portion of the nave and in the tower and transepts. the church was dedicated during the rule of abbot richard d'aubeny, in the presence of the king, henry i., his court, and a goodly number of bishops, in 1115, and a little later we read of the relics of the saint being deposited in a beautiful shrine and conveyed to a place of honour in the minster. one ralph de gobion, seventeenth abbot, plundered the shrine in order to increase the territorial possessions of the abbey, but his successor, robert de gorham (1151-1167), restored the shrine, and built anew some of the monastic buildings. this monastery had the high honour of producing the only english pope, nicholas breakspeare, who was a monk here, and who, in the time of his prosperity, forgot not his early monastic home. the noble west front that once adorned this church, ruined by modern "restoration," was begun by abbot john de cella (1195-1214), but the troubles of john's reign prevented him from finishing it. his work was continued by william de trumpington (1214-1235), who placed a lantern on the tower and rebuilt the west end of the nave. st. alban's was fortunate in having a historian among its monks. matthew paris lived here, and died in 1259. he tells us much in his chronicles about the abbey he loved so well, of royal visits, of dread plagues, and of the abbots who ruled here. here came edward i. on his way to scotland, here his queen's body lay on its last sad journey, and here one of the eleanor crosses was raised--alas! now destroyed. there was here a famous school of chroniclers, who did much for the history of england, and amongst them were roger of wendover, matthew of westminster, thomas of walsingham, and many others. a great work was begun in 1256 by abbot john de hertford (1235-1260), the successor of trumpington, and this was the rebuilding and extension of the eastern arm. the apsidal termination was removed, the aisles lengthened two bays, a square-ended central chapel placed at the end, and the lady chapel begun. the work lasted until almost the end of the century, and is pronounced to be the most perfect example of the art of the age. a terrible disaster befell the abbey in the rule of hugh de eversden (1308-1326). a great part of the south aisle gave way, two piers, with triforium and clerestory roof and south wall, being involved in a mighty ruin. the abbot set to work to restore the church; he built in the decorated style, and finished also the lady chapel. the usual disputes between the monks and townsfolk raged at st. albans, as in most places where there was a powerful abbot and a growing town. in eversden's time the lordly abbot was compelled by the king to give way, but his successor regained all his power over the town. he was a wonderful man, this richard de wallingford (1326-1335), who made a marvellous astronomical clock, and could manage to tell the ways of the stars and the course of the sun as easily as he could manage the people of st. albans. but all disputes did not cease for many a long year, and frequently the abbot's servants and the townsfolk came to blows. the work of restoring the south aisle progressed, and was finished by abbot mentmore (1335-1349), who also repaired the north walk of the cloister, damaged by the fall of the adjoining aisle. abbot thomas de la mare (1349-1396) was the son of a noble house, and a favourite of edward iii. after poictiers the french king john was brought here, and kept as an honourable prisoner, and afterwards expressed his gratitude to the courtly abbot for his care. edward iii. granted leave to the abbot to fortify his monastery, and walls and gates were much needed a few years later when wat tyler and his rebels besieged it and frightened the abbot and caused much damage. the rebels suffered here later when the king came, and some he hanged. then was the great gate, with its prisons and vaults, constructed, which still stands, mightily convincing of the power of the abbot. nor did he forget his church. he paved all the west part at great cost, and spent large sums on the services. the abbot, john de la moote (1396-1401), took some part in dethroning richard ii., and it is said that the conspiracy was hatched at the abbot's dinner-table. here they brought as a prisoner the bishop of carlisle, who stoutly defended richard at westminster. the rivalry of the houses of york and lancaster brought trouble to st. albans. here was fought the first battle, and here, in the house of a tanner, henry vi. was found and conveyed to london. the second battle of st. albans was fought here in 1461, when the king's party were victorious, and the abbey was the scene of a great thanksgiving service. great privileges were granted to the abbey by edward iv. several alterations were made in perpendicular times. the walls of the nave aisles were lowered and their roofs flattened, so that the backs of the norman triforia were exposed, and their openings made into windows. several perpendicular windows were also inserted. st. albans played a great part in the introduction of printing, and a press was set up in the abbey. the earliest book printed here was in 1480, and many other incunabula came from this renowned press. the era of the reformation is at hand. cardinal wolsey was abbot here in 1521. the fate of the monastery was doomed. in 1539 it was surrendered to the king by his creature abbot boreman, and the manors, goods and possessions were soon seized by the courtiers. much damage was done in the church; of course, the beautiful shrines were destroyed. the abbey church and buildings were granted to sir richard lee, who soon began to uproot and destroy. the cloisters were levelled to the ground. abbot boreman did good service in buying the site of the monastery from sir r. lee. then the townsfolk did nobly. they bought the church from the crown, and made it the parish church of st. andrew, and moreover established a grammar school in the lady chapel. the eastern ante-chapel was walled up, and a public passage made across the church west of the lady chapel. the knives of the schoolboys improved not the ancient stone-work of this once beautiful building. various attempts have been made in successive ages to keep this abbey in repair. in 1832 and 1856 much was accomplished, and the story of the reparation of 1870 under sir g. scott tells of the triumphs of the skill of modern builders, and their bravery and resolution in saving the fall of the great tower. this mighty mass began to give way, and the architect discovered that some dastard attempt had been made to destroy it, after the dissolution of the monastery, by digging a great hole under one of the piers. the greatest credit is due to all concerned in the hazardous and most difficult task of saving the falling tower. the grammar school was removed from the lady chapel, and much done to restore the building to its ancient beauty. in 1871 it was raised to the dignity of a cathedral; and surely no church more worthily deserved this honour. in quite recent times injudicious "restoration" has wrought terrible mischief. the west front has been entirely modernised, and much else has been "restored" beyond all knowledge of english gothic art; but, in spite of all this, st. albans remains one of the most interesting buildings in the kingdom, and one can only regret that time has dealt so hardly with this venerable pile. [illustration s^t albans from the n w] the exterior as we approach the cathedral from the south we get a fine view and notice the great length of the building, its great central tower, and large amount of roman tiles used in the construction. these tiles are 1-1/2 inches thick and measure 16 inches by 12. in addition much flint is used. the piers, arches, towers and staircases are mainly composed of tiles. originally the building was covered with cement, which has almost entirely disappeared. its plan is that of a latin cross, and originally there were no less than seven parallel apses, all of which have disappeared. the grand _tower_ is norman. formerly there were turrets at the four angles, and in the thirteenth century an octagonal lantern was added; but these have disappeared, and the tower is very much the same as it was in norman times. the embattled parapet is recent. the _west front_ creates sad reflections, and words are powerless to convey a sufficiently strong protest against the evils which have been wrought by the injudicious though well-meaning efforts of modern restorers. the original norman west front was removed by abbot john de cella (1195-1214), who began to erect a new one. it was a magnificent intention, but it was too ambitious for the resources of the monastery, and the levies of richard i. for his crusading exploits, and the confiscations of john, were too much for the abbot, and put a stop to his enterprise. he intended to build two western towers, but got no further than the foundations. the front would have been 160 feet in width, 40 feet wider than salisbury. abbot william de trumpington proceeded to finish the work, and rebuilt five bays on the south side of the nave and four on the north. john de cella's three deep porches are left to us in some small fragments; the rest is modern, and owes its erection to lord grimthorpe. the _nave_ shows three periods of architecture. the eastern portion is the work of paul de caen (1077-1097). on the south side the three easternmost bays are norman and were constructed by him. the next five bays are decorated. these were begun by abbot hugh de eversden (1308-1326), in whose time during divine service two great piers on the south fell, and all the roof and beams of the south part were ruined. the rebuilding was finished by abbot michael de mentmore (1335-1349). the four remaining bays are the early english work of william de trumpington (1214-1235). in perpendicular times the roof of the aisle was lowered and made flat, disclosing the triforium openings, but in the recent restoration the original pitch has been renewed. on this side stood the cloister court, and against the south wall of the church are seen the remains of the arches of the north cloister walk. part of the east walk cloister left its marks on the west wall of the south transept, but recent restoration has obliterated them. the south transept is norman, the work of paul de caen, except the south wall, which has been entirely rebuilt by lord grimthorpe. the tall lancets are an imitation of "the five sisters" of york minster. turrets crowned with small caps stand at each angle of the transept. below the window are the remains of the slype, or passage from the cloister to the monks' burial-ground. the south wall is all that remains of the chapter-house. on the east side of the transept were formerly two apsidal chapels, but all traces of these have been removed. they were destroyed in the time of edward ii. to make room for a sacristy. on the south of the south chancel aisle is a fine norman arch leading to these apsidal chapels. when they were removed the arch was contracted by the insertion of a pointed arch. a vestry was constructed here in 1846. this eastern part of the church beyond the third bay from the tower was built in the latter half of the thirteenth century under the rule of abbot john de hertford, and completed by abbot roger norton (1260-1290). the lady chapel was mainly built under the rule of abbot hugh de eversden (1308-1326), one reginald of st. albans being the master-mason. it is in the decorated style, and was begun as early as 1280. abbot wheathampstead (1420-1464) embellished it with much decoration in the perpendicular style. it was with the ambulatory long separated from the church by a wall, and used as a grammar school. a public path passed through the building here. the north side of the chapel and presbytery resembles the south. the north door is much later. the most western part of the wall is norman. the north transept is entirely norman, the work of abbot paul. on the east side were two apsidal chapels, removed in the fifteenth century. the upper part of the north front was rebuilt by lord grimthorpe. the north side of the nave preserves its norman character, both in the clerestory and aisle, except at the west end, where it has been reconstructed in the early english style. on the west of the abbey is the _great gateway_, which is an unusually important building. the greater part of the present structure was built by abbot thomas de la mare (1349-1396), but there seems to be some thirteenth century incorporated with it. here the abbot held his court, and dealt out justice to the townsfolk and received his rents, and transacted other business; and here there were prisons for rebellious clerks and others. the gateway was stormed by wat tyler's rebels in 1381, who broke into the abbey and terribly frightened the abbot and his monks. but vengeance was in store for the rioters, several of whom were imprisoned here and afterward hanged. after the dissolution it was used as the assize court, and subsequently as a prison. then the grammar school, evicted from the lady chapel, found a home here. all the other monastic buildings have been destroyed. the interior we enter the church by the west door, and are at once struck by its immense length. it is the longest in england, and consists of thirteen bays. originally the norman style prevailed throughout the building, but in the course of ages numerous alterations have been made, and its architectural history is somewhat complicated. the five bays on the north and the three bays on the south are the work of trumpington, who left the great piers standing, removed the norman arches, triforium and clerestory, and began his reconstruction with all the gracefulness of the early english style. he cased the piers with stone-work, which are octagonal and have attached shafts. the triforium has in each bay an arch enclosing two sub-arches with a quatrefoil in the head. the dog-tooth appears in the string-courses. the clerestory windows have two lights. the roof is modern. it was evidently intended to have a stone vault, but this was abandoned apparently for want of means. the work in the aisles corresponds to that in the nave as far as trumpington's building extends. there is a remarkable juncture of this early english work with the norman on the north side of the nave. this norman work is that of paul de caen. it is simple and plain, and not dissimilar from that at caen, whence the abbot came. on the south side the five bays next to trumpington's work were rebuilt by abbots hugh de eversden (1308-1326) and michael de montmore (1335-1349), owing to the fall already alluded to. here we see rich decorated work, and though it differs in detail, it follows the lines of the earlier work on the west. instead of dog-tooth, we have the ball-flower alternating with lilies. there is more sculpture, some of the heads being beautifully carved. the aisle here is similar in character to the nave. the cloister court having been on the south side of this wall, the windows here are high up. the next three bays on the south side are norman, and also the nine eastern bays on the north side. the piers are very massive and are square-edged. the arches have three orders. the triforium arches are plain, but less lofty than those of the nave, and the clerestory arches are of the same character. we will now examine the mural paintings in the nave, which are of norman date. upon the west side of the six norman piers are examples of the same subject, the crucifixion, with st. john and the virgin. beginning with westernmost norman pier we notice a representation of our lord, and below is the annunciation. on the south is st. christopher, on the next pier is the same subject, and on the south the figure of st. thomas of canterbury. the figures of st. syth, edward the confessor, coronation of the virgin, and the virgin and child also appear. the nave has been shorn of most of its monuments, but on the second pier on the north side is the monument of sir john mandeville, the great traveller, with this inscription:- "_siste gradum propcrans, requiescit mandevil urnâ hic humili; norunt et monumenta mori._ "'lo, in this inn of travellers doth lie one rich in nothing but in memory; his name was sir john mandeville; content, having seen much, with a final continent, toward which he travelled ever since his birth and at last pawned his body for y^e earth, which by a statute must in morgage be till a redeemer come to set it free.'" there is another monument which records the undying fame of one john jones, who wrote a poem on "the shrine of st. albans." but time has been unkind to the poet, and his poem no longer exists. the massive stone pulpit was designed by lord grimthorpe. an inscription at the west end informs us that in the time of henry viii. and elizabeth, on account of the plague in london, the courts of justice were held in this nave. dividing the choir from the nave is the fine decorated screen commonly but erroneously called that of st. cuthbert, erected about 1350 by abbot de la mare. it is not the rood-screen as it is commonly described. that with its great, high, towering rood stood a little further east. this is excellent decorated work. it has suffered from iconoclastic reformers. over the screen is the modern organ. the extensions of the screen over the aisles are the work of lord grimthorpe. notice the rich tabernacle work of the screen. the _south aisle of the choir_ beyond the screen is all norman, except the modern vault. here on the south is the tomb of two famous hermits--roger and sigar--who lived in the time of king stephen, though the tomb is later. roger lived near dunstable, and sigar in the wood of northaw, of whom it is said that he banished all nightingales from his retreat, as their sweet song prevented him from saying his prayers. next we notice the abbot's door, which is rich decorated work, built by the fashioner of the screen, abbot de la mare (1349-1396). the _transepts_ and _central tower_ are plain norman, the work of paul de caen. the south wall of the south transept, however, with its five sisters' window, copied from york minster, was entirely rebuilt by lord grimthorpe. the eastern triforium arches are extremely interesting, as they have curious baluster shafts which are recognised as saxon work. these doubtless are the sole remaining relics of the ancient church built by offa in 793, and were inserted here by abbot paul. the capitals are, however, norman. the small window on the opposite side was an opening into a watching chamber, whence a monk could keep guard over the treasures in the transept. this chamber was not a reclusorium as the legends tell. on the east side were two apsidal chapels, destroyed in order to make room for a sacristy, which has now shared their fate. the altars of ss. stephen and john the evangelist stood here. on the west side are three ancient jacobean cupboards, fashioned for the distribution of bread to the poor on sundays. on the south is a fine norman doorway, brought here from the slype, which is now entered through it. the south wall of this passage is all that remains of the old chapter-house. here are some norman arcading, and as the modern verses tell us, "fragments brought together from all sides." we enter the _choir_, which occupies the three eastern bays of the nave and the space under the tower. the stalls are modern. the ceiling is extremely interesting and dates from the time of edward iii., the painted panels being adorned with the sacred monogram, numerous shields with royal arms supported by angels, the _te deum_, and invocations to the virgin. the roses of york and lancaster appear on the lofty ceiling of the tower. the choir pulpit here was given by the english freemasons. the _north transept_ resembles the south, and is mainly norman. here is another saxon baluster-shafted arch in the triforium, a relic of offa's church. the old painted ceiling has been replaced by a modern roof. the upper part of the north wall was rebuilt by lord grimthorpe, who inserted here a huge rose window which has received some very severe criticism. he has also placed beneath it an inscription which records the fact that he ("edmund") has built anew the work of abbot "john" wheathampstead which had perished while that of abbot paul remains. on the east were formerly apsidal chapels, which have been removed, and altars dedicated to the holy trinity, st. osyth, and the holy cross of pity. near the last is a painting on the wall, the subject being the incredulity of st. thomas. on the floor are some remarkable ancient tiles. on the splay of one of the norman windows a vine is represented, and there is a small norman door. bishop claughton's fine monument is here (1892) and bishop blomfield of colchester (1894). the presbytery occupies the space between the tower and the wallingford screen, and retains its norman walls as far as the third bay. the rest is the work of abbot john de hertford (1235-1260). the style is early english. before us is the famous wallingford screen or reredos, erected by abbot william wallingford (1476-1484), which resembles that at winchester. it was much mutilated, and has very recently been thoroughly restored, and the niches filled with statuary. there is a fine figure of our lord in the centre, with the virgin and st. john on either side, surrounded by angels. below are the twelve apostles with our lord in the midst. on either side are figures of saints and kings connected with the history of the abbey. on the north is the chantry of abbot ramryge (1521), which has some rich perpendicular work; the abbot's rebus--_rams_ with _ryge_ on the necks--may be discovered. notice the representation of the martyrdom of st. alban over the door. on the south is the chantry of abbot wheathampstead (1464), which has a fine brass (that of abbot thomas de la mare), and bears his arms (three ears of corn with the motto _valles habundabunt_). some attribute this tomb to abbot wallingford, but the details seem to point to wheathampstead. this abbot caused the ceiling to be painted whereon are depicted the _agnus dei_ and the eagle of st. john. there are numerous tombs and brasses of other abbots here. the south door has some fine early english tabernacle work. the architecture of the adjoining _north aisle_ corresponds with that of the presbytery, and through it we pass to the _saints' chapel_, which is the work of abbot john de hertford and his successors, and may well be described by sir g. scott as being "among the finest productions of that period." on the east side of the reredos are some fine modern statues of the virgin and other saints. here is the famous _shrine of st. alban_, broken and destroyed at the reformation, and now happily built up again, the fragments having been collected by careful hands from many parts of the building. it was first erected by abbot john de marynis (1302-1308), and is of decorated style. gorgeous must have been its original appearance; but though shorn of all its jewels, gold and silver, it remains a noble piece of work. the holes in the panels of the base were intended for the insertion of diseased limbs, in order that they might be healed by the merits of the saint. the carved leafage in the tympana of the canopied niches is admirable. only two carved figures remain, those of offa and st. oswin. on the west we see a representation of the martyrdom of the saint, and at the east his scourging. on the north side of the chapel is the _watching tower_, a wooden structure, probably erected by abbot john de wheathampstead. this and a similar one at christ church, oxford, are the only watching towers remaining. a monk was stationed here to guard the treasures of the shrine. there are some curious carvings on the frieze. treasures were preserved in aumbreys which now contain some curios. the famous humphrey, duke of gloucester, son of henry iv., murdered by order of queen margaret (1446), lies buried here in a tomb on the south. the sculpture of the numerous figures is very bold and vigorous. some painting is observed on the piers, and there is a figure of st. william of york. in the _north aisle_ is part of the _shrine of st. amphibalus_, which shares the history of its neighbour, and has been now partially recovered. it belongs to the last half of the fourteenth century. on the sides are the initials of ralph whitechurch, sacrist of the abbey. the _ante-chapel_ and _lady chapel_ have been extensively restored. indeed, their condition was deplorable. a public path ran through the former, and the latter was used as a grammar school, and suffered in consequence. the story of the architecture is rather complex. the ante-chapel was begun by de hertford and finished by his successor, roger norton (1260-1290), who continued to build the lady chapel, which was finished by hugh de eversden (1308-1326). the style is decorated. the whole of the chapel has been most completely restored by lord grimthorpe. the modern carving is exquisite. we now pass to the _south aisle_, which follows the architecture of the rest of the east end. here we see an iron trellis screen of thirteenth-century work. there is here some good arcading, and an interesting panel taken from the old ceiling of the north transept representing the martyrdom of st. alban. at the east end of this aisle was the altar of st. mary of the four tapers, and numerous other altars existed in the aisles and ante-chapel. in the wall above the old poor box is a curious figure of a pensioner carved by a sexton about 100 years ago. an ascent of the tower reveals many interesting features of that ancient structure, and helps one to realise the formidable nature of the task which the skilful architect and builders of 1870 accomplished when they saved this massive pile from destruction. dimensions total length 550 ft. length of nave to tower 284 ft. length of nave to screen 215 ft. width of transepts 189 ft. width of tower 144 ft. total area 40,000 sq. ft. principal building dates saxon--baluster shafts of windows in triforium of transepts. norman (1077-1115)--nine bays on north of nave, and three bays on south, transept, and three bays of presbytery. early english (1195-1260)--western end of nave, presbytery, saints' chapel with aisles. transition (1260-1290)--foundations of lady chapel and ante-chapel. decorated--lady chapel and five bays of nave. perpendicular--south buttresses of choir; windows inserted which have since been removed. the city possesses many objects of interest:- the roman city of verulamium. the churches of st. michael, st. peter, st. stephen. sopwell nunnery. the old moot hall. and the old inn called the "fighting cocks," said to be one of the oldest inns, and the oldest inhabited house in england, but this reputation is somewhat legendary. note the welsh cathedrals of llandaff and st. david's should be approached from gloucester; and chester is the most convenient starting-point for st. asaph and bangor. st. asaph's cathedral this cathedral, like that of bangor, is small, but its history is not unimportant. it owed its origin to kentigern, otherwise called st. mungo, the founder and bishop of glasgow, who, being driven from his northern see in the sixth century, found a refuge here, and enjoyed the protection of prince cadwallon. this prince aided him in building a church and founding a monastery here, and fabulous records tell of the amazing number of the monks. his biographer assures us that there was no less than 965 dwellers in this monastery, which number must be an extraordinary exaggeration. when kentigern returned to scotland, he left one of his followers, st. asaph, to act as bishop of the diocese. the chroniclers are silent about the names of the subsequent bishops, until they record the doings of norman times. in 1143 one gilbert was consecrated bishop. the church in existence during his rule was burnt down in 1283, during the fierce wars between edward i. and the welsh. anian ii. was bishop during that time, and contemplated the transferring of the seat of the bishopric to rhuddlan; but, on the advice of the archbishop of canterbury, he determined to rebuild the ruined church, and most of the present building is his work, or that of his two successors, leoline and david. the work extended from 1284 to 1350. owen glendower, after his fashion, set fire to the church and burned the roof in 1404, and for a century the church remained in a roofless ruined state. bishop redman, in 1490, began to rebuild and restore the ruined church. he raised walls, erected a new roof, added the east window, and placed in the choir the stalls and a throne. bishop owen jones, in 1631, made some further alterations, and repaired the steeple and belfry. then came the disasters of the civil war, when terrible desecration ensued, principally caused by a wretch named miller, who turned the palace into a wine-shop, and the church into a stable and cow-house, and the font into a hog-trough. since the restoration there have been several learned and devout prelates, amongst others, isaac barrow, william beveridge, thomas tanner, author of _notitia monastica_; samuel horsley; but they were more learned in theology and their books than in the study of the correct principles of architecture. hence they disfigured the church, and destroyed many of its most interesting features. in 1780 the choir was remodelled, a plaster ceiling erected, and much further damage done. "oh, _restoration!_ what evils have been wrought in your name." the church is cruciform. at the west end is a large decorated window, and a deeply-recessed doorway of six orders, with buttresses on either side, which have crocketed pinnacles; a wooden cross surmounts the gable. it will be noticed that the shafts supporting the arch of the doorway have no capitals, the wave moulding making a complete sweep round the arch, with no capitals intervening. this arrangement we shall notice in the church. the great central tower was the latest addition to the mediæval church, and was constructed late in the fourteenth century. the embattled parapets were added in 1714. it is 93 feet high. the nave consists of five bays, and at once we notice the same peculiarity observable in the west doorway. the mouldings are carried up the piers and round the arches without any break. they are very plain, and of two orders, and are of the early decorated style, the work of bishop anian. formerly there was a clerestory, but during one of the tasteless restorations a ceiling was erected, which shuts it out from view. the windows of the clerestory were in the perpendicular style, and exist still in the south. grotesque carvings appear on the brackets supporting the roof. the windows of the aisles have been much restored, and are in the style of the early decorated. the south transept was once the lady chapel, the consistory court and chapter-house. the windows are of five lights, and were finished about 1336. here is a much mutilated effigy of a bishop, which is of great beauty, especially the figures of censing angels. it is supposed to represent bishop anian. the north transept has the monument of bishop luxmore (1830). in the south aisle are some monuments of the relatives of mrs. hemans, the poetess, and a tablet has been erected to the memory of that lady, who died in 1835. under the central tower stand the old finely-canopied stalls. the throne is modern. the style of the old choir was almost entirely changed at the eighteenth-century "restoration." it was of early english design, and sir g. scott wisely resolved to restore it to its primitive form. this proceeding was somewhat drastic, but such was the condition of the choir, and so severe was the treatment it received in 1780, that perhaps no other course could with advantage have been taken. he discovered the old sedilia, and the door leading to the old chapter-house. the east window has entirely modern tracery, and the reredos is modern. bishop barrow's tomb outside the west door is worthy of notice. the bishop's palace is a large modern building. at the foot of the hill is the parish church. from the summit of the tower of the cathedral a fine view can be obtained of the vale of clwyd, with the castles of denbigh and rhuddlan, and a long line of sea coast. robert montgomery sang sweetly of this wondrous view:- "thy heart might beat in thrilling answer to the strain i sing, hadst thou beside me, from the sacred tower, beheld this beauteous vale." bangor cathedral the early bishops of bangor are shadowy beings. we read of bishop daniel in the sixth century, concerning whom the records are misty, although he was canonised. godwin says that there were no bishops here before the norman conquest. at any rate hervey, or harvé, was consecrated bishop in 1092, but he was so rigid in his discipline, and so severe upon the welsh, that they rebelled, murdered his brother, and threatened him with a like fate. so he fled for refuge to the court of henry i., and was ultimately appointed to the see of ely. the early celtic church was destroyed by the normans in 1071. a second church was at once built, and here, in 1188, archbishop baldwin preached the crusades, and so moved the heart of the bishop of bangor that he joined the army of crusaders to rescue the holy city from the saracens. this church was destroyed in 1211 by a great fire. it was, however, partly restored, and again fell a prey to destruction in the wars of edward i. and the welsh. bishop anian, however, seemed to have been a favourite of the king, who helped him to rebuild his church. this bishop baptised the first prince of wales, born at carnarvon castle. he also drew up the bangor use, or service book, which ranked highly among the cathedral uses of the mediæval church. during the wars of owen glendower in 1402 the church was completely gutted, and for nearly a century it lay in ruins. a new church was begun by henry deane in 1496, who finished the choir, and the cathedral was completed by bishop skeffington, abbot of beaulieu, hants, who was appointed to the see of bangor in 1509. the style of the architecture was therefore entirely perpendicular. though the body of this benefactor was buried in his hampshire abbey, his heart was conveyed for sepulchre to the church he loved so well. the church suffered at the reformation, when the see was held by bishop bulkely, who cared not for his church, and sold its store of vestments, plate, ornaments, and the bells given by his predecessor. bishop rowlands, in 1598, put a new roof on the church, and gave four new bells. in the civil war it suffered much; the soldiers destroyed all the woodwork and broke the glass. at the restoration the church was renovated and beautified, and brown willis gives a good account of "its lightsome" appearance. in the early nineteenth century some terrible "restorations" took place, and the church was divided into two portions, one for the welsh and the other for the english service. the general appearance of the church was stunted and low, and was much inferior to many parish churches, possessing neither dignity nor beauty. in 1866 a very thorough restoration was undertaken by sir g. scott, which practically amounted to a rebuilding. he, however, carefully collected all the old materials found built up in the wall, and from these he endeavoured to reconstruct the church as it originally stood. the plan of the church consists of a west tower, a nave with aisles, a central tower, transepts and choir, and on the north a muniment room, and above it the chapter-house. the _west tower_ was built by bishop skeffington (1509-1533), and is a good example of late perpendicular work. it has three stages, and is 60 feet high. the door is of the usual character of the style, and above it is the inscription:-"_thomas skevynton, episcopus bangorie hoc campanele et ecclesiam fieri fecit, a^o partus virginei, 1532._" in each of the other stages there is a window of three lights. the _nave_ has six bays, and the perpendicular style is evident in the arches, octagonal piers and characteristic bases. the windows in the south aisle are decorated, and those in the north perpendicular. the masonry of the walls seems to have survived the various fires and other accidents which befell this ill-fated cathedral, and probably are the remains of bishop anian's work. the font was probably erected by skeffington, and is good perpendicular. the _transepts_ have been almost entirely rebuilt, and the perpendicular work, which was much decayed, was replaced by decorated, authority for which was discovered by sir g. scott in the fragments of old stone-work built up in the walls. some very fine thirteenth-century piers stood at the crossing until an unfortunate restoration in 1824, when they were replaced by imitation perpendicular. these have now been removed, and new piers and arches constructed in accordance with the conjectured design of the originals. there was no central tower in the perpendicular church, but the relics of earlier work prove that the original church had such a tower. hence scott added this to his design, and when completed it will enhance the dignity of the building. the _choir_ has had a chequered history, which, as sir g. scott states, is of a threefold nature. the norman choir had an apsidal termination. this apse was removed, and the length of the choir or presbytery greatly increased in early decorated times. after the destruction wrought by owen glendower, bishop deane (1496-1500) restored it, and the main object of scott's restoration was to make the present choir conform to the condition in which bishop deane left it. the civil war brought much destruction to this excellent work of the perpendicular period, and decay had also left its marks upon it; but during the recent restorations all has been again renewed, and all that we see conforms as nearly as possible to that produced in the days of henry vii. cromwell's soldiers left none of the fittings untouched. the stalls were destroyed. now all has been restored, and most of the fittings are new. the modern tiles of the floor are worthy of notice. some mural paintings have been added at the east end. the tombs on either side are probably those of bishop anian (1328), the rebuilder of the church, and one tudor ap tudor (1365). in the south transept is recorded the burial of owen gwynedh (1169), the son of the last king of wales, gryffydh ap gynan, who also was buried here. a rude representation of our lord upon the cross appears over the supposed royal tomb. in the north transept is a memorial to a welsh bard, gronovil owen (1722). sir g. scott entirely rebuilt the old chapter-house and muniment room on the north side of the choir in the early decorated style. the bishop's palace is a large mansion, but has no great architectural merits. the deanery and some old almshouses and an elizabethan school are all near the cathedral. llandaff cathedral the history of the welsh sees carries us back to the early days of british christianity. when the saxon tribes swept over the land they destroyed the churches and monasteries, and drove the british west-ward, who found a refuge in the hills of wales, in devon, cornwall and somerset, and in the regions north of the mersey, and there the british church continued to exist and flourish, though the rest of england was submerged in the flood of paganism. when augustine came he found in these parts of england a church governed by its bishops, who did not recognise the authority of the pope, and whose customs differed somewhat from those of rome. he summoned them to a conference, which was held at a place called "augustine's oak," where by his haughty demeanour he offended the representatives of the ancient native church, who refused to abandon their accustomed usages, especially in the matter of the time for observing easter and the forms of the tonsure. in roman times caerleon was a see, which seems to have embraced the whole of wales. then there were five principalities, each of which had a bishop. these were bangor, llanelwy (st. asaph's), st. david's, llandaff and llanbadarn, afterwards incorporated with st. david's. judging from the number of the names of saints which occur in welsh nomenclature, we may conclude that the welsh church was famous for its zeal and activity and for the holiness of its members. it sent preachers and missionaries to ireland, to brittany, and cornwall and devon. it founded colleges and schools, and the great celtic church assisted in the conversion of the northern saxons of england, and even sent missionaries to the continent. by degrees the british church became merged in the english, founded by augustine, and with the appointment of norman prelates in the time of the conqueror, any lingering survivals of ancient customs and usages were lost, and the unity of the church fully established. the earliest bishop of the see of llandaff whose name is recorded was st. dubricius. he is reputed to have founded the see in 612 a.d., but his successor, st. teilo, seems to have had the chief credit of accomplishing the work. of course the mythical king lucius is dragged in as the earliest founder, but we have always neglected the legends connected with him. of the early welsh bishops we have no sure information, though there is the famous _book of llandaff_, which does not afford much certain knowledge, and is full of inaccuracies. bishop urban was consecrated in 1107, conveyed here the relics of dubricius, and began to rebuild his cathedral, for which an indulgence was granted by the archbishop of canterbury to all who should assist him in the work. possibly it was finished in his time, but we have no certain information, and the stones of the church can alone tell the story of its building. during the thirteenth century the western part of the nave was erected, and also the chapter-house, which is of early english design. during the decorated period the lady chapel was added and the presbytery rebuilt, and the walls of the aisles also renewed. the north-west tower was erected in the perpendicular period by the earl of pembroke, uncle of henry vii. thus the church was completed. it was not a very beautiful structure, and time has dealt hardly with it. the spoilers at the reformation plundered it; decay and desolation reigned in the deserted "long-drawn aisle." some bishops seem to have attempted to do something, but the whole condition of the church was deplorable. then the troubles of the civil war period fell upon this job-like structure, and in spite of some attempts to improve its condition at the restoration, and at subsequent periods, it still remained in a ruinous state. then in 1723, when the taste for italian models was rampant, the authorities erected an italian temple-like building at the east end. this happily has been entirely removed during the restorations, which commenced in the middle of the last century, when the church was completely renovated, and all the old portions which had escaped the action of time, or the barbarous efforts of the followers of christopher wren, restored to their original state. the work was finished in 1869. although much of the church is new, on close inspection we can discover some ancient work that lacks not interest. the _west front_ is very beautiful. the doorway is a fine example of early english work. it consists of a round arch, with two sub-arches, and in the tympanum there is an episcopal figure, probably that of st. dubricius. the shafts at the sides of the doorway are early english. above them are lancet windows, and in the gable a figure of our lord in glory. the cross above the gable is modern. the front is flanked on each side by two towers. the north-west tower is perpendicular, the work of jasper tudor, earl of pembroke, uncle of henry vii.; the south-west tower is modern. the _nave_ consists of five bays, and is of early english design. there is no triforium. the clerestory windows are lancets, and a passage runs in front of them. we notice the graceful foliage on the pier capitals, of late early english design, when the stiff-leaved foliage was giving way to the more natural foliage of the decorated period. the aisles were rebuilt in the late decorated period, but two norman doorways on the north and south sides were preserved. the choir is of the same character as the nave, but in the presbytery we see some of the norman work of urban's church, mixed with that of the decorated period. here stood the italian temple, until happily this monstrosity was removed. the clerestory was destroyed when the temple was erected, but in the restoration of sir gilbert scott it was rebuilt. on the south side we notice the curious blending of the norman with the decorated work. one of the most striking features of this cathedral is the late norman arch at the east end. it is very richly ornamented, and has four orders, being adorned with zigzag, roll, and a curious row of flower-like circles. the reredos is modern, and has some fine paintings by rosetti. the sedilia are modern. the _lady chapel_ has a stone vault, the ribs rising from purbeck marble shafts. the windows are of good design, having two lights with a circle in the head. the east window is modern. the chapter-house is early english, and is almost unique in having a square plan with a central pier. few of the monuments possess much interest. we notice that of st. dubricius; a brass memorial of bishop copleston (1849); bishop william de bruce (1287); bishop st. teilo; bishop bromfield (1393); bishop marshall (1496), a skeleton figure of the _memento mori_ type; sir david matthew, standard-bearer to edward iv. (1461); sir william matthew; lady audley. the old reredos discovered during the restoration has been placed in the north aisle of the choir. st. david's cathedral far away on the most western point of southern wales stands the ancient cathedral of st. david's, the most inaccessible, but the most interesting of the four welsh episcopal churches. the see was founded in the sixth century, and was known by the name menevia. st. david was the reputed founder of the see, concerning whom there are many legends. he founded a monastery at glyn rhosyn, which became a fruitful school of saints and celtic worthies, wrought divers miracles, and through him the welsh church extended its influence to ireland, and also to scotland and northumbria. after his death troubles befell the monastery. it was plundered in 645, but recovered from the disaster. here asser, the biographer of alfred the great, acquired his wisdom. then the norse pirates frequently attacked the place, and on one occasion, in 1011, eadric of mercia wrought havoc here. but the see survived all these misfortunes, and here came william the conqueror, who made an offering at st. david's shrine. for a time welsh prelates continued to hold the see, but in 1115 bernard, the first norman prelate, chaplain of the queen of henry i., was appointed to the see. although he altered the constitution of the chapter, he made no alterations in the old church. the rebuilding was begun by bishop peter de leia (1177-1198), but it is doubtful whether he personally did much to forward the work, as on account of his unpopularity he spent most of his time in england. however, the work progressed rapidly during his episcopacy, and was finished in the early years of the thirteenth century. after the fashion of cathedral towers, the tower of st. david's fell in 1220, and was immediately rebuilt. but it showed signs of again collapsing, and for centuries was a cause of anxiety, until it was made secure by sir g. scott in the restoration of 1866. the greater part of the present building is transitional norman, but there was much architectural activity in later periods. owing to the fall of the tower and the action of an earthquake in 1248, much rebuilding was found necessary. the thirteenth century witnessed the reconstruction of the north transept, together with the building of the east chapels, which incline at so great an angle, much reparation of the choir, and the commencement of the lady chapel and eastern portion of the presbytery. during the decorated period much work was accomplished. bishop martyn (1290-1328) finished the lady chapel, and bishop gower (1328-1347) did much for the fabric of the cathedral, and built the noble palace, which is still beautiful in decay. his work is seen in the upper portion of the walls of the nave and eastern part of the choir and presbytery, the inserted decorated windows, the eastern chapel of the south transept, the alterations in the corresponding chapel of the north transept, the south porch, the second stage of the tower, and the famous rood-screen. during the fifteenth century and the latter years of the fourteenth century, new roofs were added, the south window in the south transept constructed, heavy buttresses placed against the north wall of the nave, which had shown signs of giving way, and during the early years of the sixteenth century the tower was raised, and a stone vault erected over the lady chapel and the chapels behind the high altar. during the civil war sad havoc was wrought; lead was torn from the roof, and this caused the eastern chapels and the lady chapel to fall into decay. the once noble cathedral, in consequence of the treatment which it received during the strife of king and parliament, and of subsequent neglect, was shorn of its ancient glory, and ruin and desolation reigned. at the beginning of the nineteenth century some efforts were made to improve this state of things, and the west front was rebuilt in a debased and miserable style, and during the course of the century sundry alterations were made, and at length, in 1862, sir g. scott commenced a thorough restoration. vast sums have been expended upon the fabric of the cathedral, and though the eastern chapels remain in their ruined state, the rest of the building has been repaired and renewed, and preserved from destruction. "it remains," wrote sir g. scott, "a wonderfully interesting and valuable landmark in architectural history, taking in the extreme west a position parallel to that held by canterbury in the extreme east of the island." the exterior the _west front_ is entirely modern, the work of sir g. scott, but it is designed after the fashion of the ancient front which existed before the hideous construction of the early eighteenth-century architect. as we walk around the cathedral we must remember that nearly all the work is transitional norman, although its character is much disguised by later alterations and the insertion of decorated windows. the _north doorway_, with its curious ornamentation, is transitional norman, but time and weather have destroyed much of its beauty. the walls of the aisles were raised in the time of bishop gower (1328-1347), who inserted decorated windows. the massive flying buttresses were added about 1500 a.d. on this side was the cloister court of the college of st. mary, the ruined walls of which appear on the north. this college was founded by john of gaunt in 1377 for the maintenance of a master and seven priests. the _north transept_ has been much altered. during the recent restoration the low perpendicular roof has been removed, and one with a high pitch erected. the north window was inserted by butterfield in 1846 in place of one which had been blocked up. a curious building is seen on the east side of this transept, which has three storeys, and is higher than the roof of the main building. it contains the chapel of st. thomas the martyr, built mainly by sir richard symonds in 1329, and above it the old chapter-house, and in the highest storey the treasury. the east end of the church was extensively restored by scott. the perpendicular roof was retained, but finding amongst the _débris_ the evidence of lancet windows at the east end, scott reproduced these with excellent effect. the _lady chapel_, built by bishop martyn (1296-1328), is still in ruins. the south transept has a transitional norman west wall, and the rest was built about 1220, after the fall of the tower. large perpendicular windows were inserted in the south wall. the old vestry is on the east side. on the south side is the beautiful _porch_, built by bishop gower (1328-1347) in the decorated style. there is a parvise chamber above. the doorway is remarkable; the sculptures represent the root of jesse, with adam and eve on the west side and the patriarch jesse on the other; above it a representation of the holy trinity, with censing angels. the _tower_ was erected originally by bishop de leia, and fell in 1220. it was then rebuilt. bishop gower added a second storey in the decorated style, and above this a perpendicular storey was raised in perpendicular times. the wonder is that all this extra weight did not cause the tower to collapse again. it certainly caused continual anxiety, and produced bulges in the neighbouring walls. however, the restoration of sir g. scott has secured safety and removed anxiety. the perpendicular parapet is curious and not very beautiful. only one gateway remains, though there were four in the great wall which surrounded the precincts. the _tower gate_ is a fine structure, flanked by two towers, one of which is octagonal and the other semi-circular. the ruins of the _bishop's palace_, a magnificent structure, should be visited. it was built by bishop gower, and must have been one of the finest residences in the whole kingdom. the interior the _nave_ is the work of peter de leia (1176-1198), and is transitional norman. the elaborate carving and the richness of the ornamentation are remarkable, and the colour of the stone adds a wonderful effect. st. david's has many peculiar features, and is unlike any other church in the kingdom. the arches are round, the triforium and clerestory are blended together under one arch. the piers are round and octagonal, with attached shafts. it was evidently intended to vault the nave, but this was abandoned. a perpendicular roof of intricate and unusual design was constructed about 1500. the capitals afford an interesting study. the west end is modern, the work of scott. traces of coloured decoration may be seen on some of the piers of the nave; among the designs are figures of the virgin, our lord, and some monarch. the font in the south aisle is, with the exception of the shaft, of the same date as the nave. it is octagonal, and is carved with an arcade of pointed arches. the aisles do not possess any special features of interest. the architectural changes which have taken place there have already been mentioned. in the north aisle is the transitional norman doorway, and in the south the decorated door of bishop gower. the _rood-screen_ is very remarkable, the work of bishop gower in the decorated style. it is very massive and elaborate, and contains several tombs and monuments, has a groined roof, and is a very unusual and noble structure. the organ, which is modern, stands above this screen. the iron gates leading to the choir are also modern. before entering the choir we will visit the _transepts_, which are entered through late norman doorways from the nave. the western walls are late norman, built by de leia, the rest were erected after the fall of the tower in 1220. in the _north transept_ the large north window was erected in 1846 in the decorated style. this transept was dedicated to st. andrew. on the east side is the chapel of st. thomas the martyr, begun in 1220, refounded by sir r. symonds in 1329, and used for a variety of purposes. we notice a fine early english piscina in the south wall. above is the library and the old treasury. the _south transept_, formerly known as the "chanter's chapel," had altars dedicated to the holy innocents and st. david, and was once used as a parish church. the east side of this transept has passed through several vicissitudes, and has now been restored to its original form. the _choir_ is entered through the gates of the rood-screen, and occupies the space beneath the tower and half a bay beyond. the presbytery occupies the rest of the space beyond the parclose screen to the east wall behind the altar. all this is the work of bishop de leia, or that of his immediate successors, who rebuilt the tower after its fall in 1220. first, we examine the tower itself, and wonder at the marvellous skill of our modern architects and masons who could rebuild from their foundation two out of the four piers, each sustaining a weight of 1150 tons. rich ornamentation is observed on the east and west arches, one of which is round, the rest pointed. scott raised the wooden ceiling, and greatly improved the appearance of the interior of the tower. the _stalls_ were erected at the end of the fifteenth century, and are the work of bishop tully. there are a number of curious _misereres_ with strange grotesques, amongst others--three men in a boat with a fourth rowing, one of the passengers being very sea-sick; a cowled fox offering a wafer to a goose with a human head; a carpenter building a boat, etc. the fox is doubtless a satire on the monks, and possibly also the sea-sick passenger. the _bishop's throne_ is an elaborate structure erected by bishop morgan (1496-1505), and is of great height. it is a blend of the perpendicular and decorated styles; probably bishop morgan used some older materials in its construction. the _parclose screen_, separating the choir from the presbytery, is a peculiar feature of this cathedral. it is of decorated design. passing through it we enter the _presbytery_. at the east end above the altar are two rows of lancets, the lower lights being blocked, and filled with rich mosaics. the glass in the upper lights is modern, of good design and execution, erected by the rev. john lucy in memory of his ancestor, bishop lucy (1660-1677). the subjects of the mosaics are the crucifixion, and figures representing the christian and jewish churches. the type of our lord upon the cross, the brazen serpent, appears below the central figure. scenes from the life of st. david also are represented. the roof of the presbytery dates from about 1500, and on the bosses and in the panels are heraldic shields. the altar is modern. the floor is paved with old tiles, and the five crosses cut on some of the slabs in the sanctuary show that these stones were formerly altars. on the north of the presbytery is the famous _shrine of st. david_, to which pilgrims flocked from all parts of great britain and ireland. kings and queens, nobles and princes came to pay their devotions at this shrine of the great welsh saint, and bestowed many offerings on st. david's church. only the base of the shrine remains, and above this once stood the _feretrum_, which was doubtless covered with gold and jewels. the base is of late early english design, and was probably constructed in 1275 by bishop richard de carew. the lowest part consists of three pointed arches with quatrefoils in the spandrels. the two inner quatrefoils communicate with lockers at the back, and were evidently intended for offerings. the upper portion consists of three arches with early english capitals to the shafts, and under the arches were paintings of ss. david, patrick, and probably denis, but these have disappeared. another shrine is in the cathedral, that of _st. caradoc_, on the south side of the north transept. he was a welsh saint, who was ordained and ministered in the cathedral of st. david, and dying in 1124 was canonised by innocent iii. here too are seen two quatrefoil openings for the reception of offerings. we need not linger in the choir aisles except to observe the monuments, and will at once pass to the part of the east end behind the altar. this part consists of bishop vaughan's chantry on the east of the presbytery, the ante-chapel, with two chapel aisles, and the lady chapel. this part of the church awaits restoration, for which funds are needed. with the exception of vaughan's chantry and the ante-chapel, all the building is roofless, exposed to the storms and rains of this exposed headland, and pitifully beseeches a new roof and shelter. several architectural puzzles are presented by this portion of the cathedral, which have not yet been entirely satisfactorily solved. examining first vaughan's chantry or trinity chapel, we find a very beautiful example of perpendicular work. the roof is a fine example of fan-tracery, and the whole structure rivals king's college chapel, cambridge, or henry vii.'s chapel at westminster. before the construction of this chapel the space occupied by it was left waste, and was described by vaughan as _vilissimus sive sordidissimus locus in totâ ecclesiâ_. a curious recess of late norman work has been discovered behind the high altar with beautifully-carved crosses. above the recess is the figure of an angel, and some relics were found in the cill embedded in mortar, where they had doubtless been placed for the purpose of preservation at the reformation. recent discovery has revealed at the east end a beautifully-carved niche and two fine windows. here are preserved some interesting celtic crosses. on the south is the chapel of king edward the conqueror, and on the north the chapel of st. nicholas. the _ante-chapel_ has early english arches with a perpendicular roof. the _lady chapel_ in its present form belongs to the transition from early english to decorated. bishop gower added the sedilia, founded a chantry here, and made sundry other alterations of a decorated character. the cathedral is rich in monuments. the most important are:- bishop gower, south of rood-screen. bishop morgan (1564), south of nave. edmund tudor, earl of richmond, father of henry vii. (1456), presbytery. bishop anselm le gras (1247), presbytery. two tombs of knights, on each side of presbytery. a priest (decorated period), in presbytery. two ancient celtic slabs, one of which records the name of bishop abraham (1078), and is in memory of his two sons. in the ruined eastern chapels are the monuments of bishop vaughan, sir j. wogan (_temp._ edward i.), archdeacon hoit (1319), an unknown knight, bishop martyn, and the fine tomb of a priest under a beautifully-carved canopy. scottish cathedrals although the church of scotland is presbyterian, it was not until the stirring events of the revolution of 1688 that this form of church government was adopted. from that day forward the church of scotland knew no bishops, and hence the application of the term cathedral to a church belonging to that communion is a misnomer. the episcopal church of scotland has its cathedrals, but these for the most part are modern. but scotland still possesses many of its ancient fanes, which are usually preserved with much care and solicitude, and retain much of the splendour of their gothic architecture, and are rich with historical associations and tradition. glasgow cathedral the cathedral of st. mungo in this city has vast treasures of architectural beauty. its patron saint was the contemporary of st. columba, a devout, miracle-working apostle, who converted the king of the strathclyde britons to christianity and gained a victory for the cross of christ over the wild people who inhabited these parts. a cathedral was built here in norman times. it was begun in 1124 and consecrated in 1192 in the presence of king david of scotland. before the century had closed fire destroyed this ancient church. but a new one was immediately begun, and five years later a portion of the building was so far finished that it was fit for consecration. about 1258 the fine early english choir was completed. it is one of the best works of the thirteenth century in scotland. the style of architecture followed closely the early english of the northern type. the windows are deeply moulded on both sides, and the piers are strong and massive without clustering shafts. but scotland at an early date developed peculiarities in her architecture which differed from english art. we see this in the use of the double lancet and simple tracery, whereas in england the lancets were widened. the influence of french architecture was not yet felt, though there was a distinct difference from the english usage. we see also that the choir has two storeys, the lower or crypt being entirely above the ground. mr. watson has recently published a learned work on this double choir, and gives excellent reasons for assuming that the vault of the "lower church" was built at five different periods, extending over half a century. his first period (_circa_ 1220) includes only the south-east compartment. then followed the north and south aisles with the springers of the south middle portion. the lower church was then left unfinished until the upper church had been built. the central portion of the lower church was then vaulted (_circa_ 1260), and later still the eastern aisle and chapel. mr. watson's conclusions have not been universally accepted, but they are certainly worthy of credence. a few years later the tower and transepts were finished. bishop wishart took the part of bruce as a loyal scot against edward i. and his attempted conquest, and suffered a long imprisonment. a disaster happened to the steeple in 1400, when it was struck by lightning. bishop lauder erected a stone one. the chapter-house was built by bishop cameron in the perpendicular style. the rood-screen, with its curious sculpture, was the work of bishop blackadder, and also the great staircase leading to the crypt or lower church. at the close of the fifteenth century glasgow became the seat of an archbishopric. beaton, the nephew of the more famous cardinal, finding that he lived in times dangerous for prelates, fortified his palace and stored therein all the plate and precious things he could find, and then carried them off to paris. the cathedral happily was spared when the storm of contending forces at the reformation raged, though it was long disused. the archbishop was in france, and episcopacy was not in favour. with the advent of james vi. of scotland to the throne of england episcopacy was restored, and spottiswood became bishop of glasgow. then during the civil war cromwell came here during the presbyterian rule, but episcopacy was restored with the monarchy, until it vanished again with the coming of dutch william. much has been done during the past century in the way of "restoration." two western towers have been bodily removed. the glass is modern and is almost entirely the work of foreign artists. the great east window was the gift of queen victoria. from the close we gain a fine view of the necropolis, which abounds in the sculptured tombs and monuments so dear to scotland's sons. iona cathedral we must now journey to the ruined shrine of iona, the cradle of western christianity, the place whence flowed the stream of missionary enterprise which watered the dry furrows of northern england as well as scotland, and caused christianity to flourish throughout the country. we owe much to this lonely isle where st. columba landed in 563 and built his rude monastery, the forerunner of the ruined buildings which now greet us. this isle could tell us of many a scene of carnage when the wild norse pirates came. the cathedral was begun in the early english period, and is cruciform. the tower, 75 feet high, has two fine windows. the capitals are beautifully carved, though they are much weather-worn owing to the roofless condition of the church. on the north side are the remains of the monastery; a norman arcade shows that it is older than the present cathedral; and on the south is the chapel of st. oran, the companion of st. columba. it is of early date, probably founded in the eleventh century by queen margaret when the isles were wrested by scotland from the norsemen. its western doorway is norman with beak-head ornament. in the _reilig oiran_, or cemetery of kings, lie buried forty-eight scottish, four irish, and eight scandinavian monarchs, together with many abbots and monks and chieftains, a veritable valhalla of the great. the carved sepulchral stones and crosses of iona are noble examples of early art, the interlacing work sculptured upon them being wonderfully intricate and beautiful. the two most perfect crosses are maclean's cross and st. martin's, one of the most beautiful and perfect in christendom. a nunnery was founded here in norman times, and traces of norman architecture are evident in the ruins. in 1208 a colony of benedictine monks was established here by one reginald, the heir of the abbot of derry, who handed over the nunnery to the guidance of his sister beatrice. there was a close connection between iona and norway, and for a long time the bishopric of the isles was united with that of the isle of man. at the present time the bishop of that island is known as the bishop of sodor and man, sodor being a corruption of sud ja, or southern island, so called by the norwegian vikings, who long held rule here. the monastery was destroyed in 1561. iona was a much-esteemed seat of learning, and was much frequented by pilgrims. it was long regarded as the isle of special sanctity, and kings and warriors from far and near were brought here to be laid in their last resting-place near the sacred tomb of columba. few places have so great a fascination as this sacred isle. brechin cathedral brechin has many interesting features, notably its half-finished cathedral, the famous round tower which was undoubtedly connected with it, or an earlier shrine, and the ruins of the _maison dieu_ or hospitium founded by william of brechin in 1256. the old cathedral was founded by king david of scotland in 1150. it is a plain and unpretentious building, now used as a parish church, and it has suffered much from restorers and renovators. its plan was originally cruciform, but some vandals at the beginning of the eighteenth century entirely destroyed the transepts. the west window and doorway are thirteenth-century work. most drastic treatment did this church receive in 1806, when besides the destruction of the transepts, the aisles were removed, and new and larger ones erected. the renovators were not satisfied with the old arches of the nave; so they built new and wider ones, and raised the walls, so that one roof could span the whole, and thus eclipsing the clerestory windows. the south side of the nave seems later than the north. its piers are lighter than those on the opposite side. at the north side of the choir are three lancet windows. the church is disfigured by galleries and pews. the ruins of the chapel of the _maison dieu_ are small but interesting. an early english doorway and a few lancet windows remain. the _round tower_ is the principal architectural feature of brechin. ireland possesses many of these curious structures, and besides this one scotland has only one other, the tower at abernethy. its date is about 980. the object of such towers is mainly to provide a place of refuge in times of attack, where the monks could store their treasures and protect themselves. they may also have been used as belfries, and their origin is certainly ecclesiastical. there is no staircase, access to the top being gained by ladders resting on wooden floors. the height is 86 feet, the thickness of the wall near the base 4 feet, and the inner diameter 8 feet. an octagonal spire crowns the summit. there is a doorway on the west which is adorned with rude carvings. over the doorway is a carved representation of the crucifixion, and on either side of the door are ecclesiastics, and below are strange creatures realistically carved. these figures are interesting memorials of celtic art. aberdeen cathedral one mile north of the large and flourishing city is the quiet, ancient town of old aberdeen. here is the cathedral of st. machar, built entirely of granite. it is not remarkable for its sculptured elegance or vast dimensions, but it has an interesting history, and its flat panelled ceiling, adorned with numerous heraldic shields, is a distinguishing feature. the church is small, and is only 200 feet in length. its patron saint was a companion of st. columba, who journeyed here on his missionary work, and founded a church about the year 597. a second church was begun in 1183, but this was not equal to the ambition of bishop cheyne, and was destroyed by him in order to make way for a better. this again was superseded by a church begun by bishop kinnimond, in 1357, but the work progressed slowly, and not until the rule of bishop leighton (1422-1440) was the nave finished with the north transept and west towers. the roof was added by his successor, bishop lindsay, and the central tower and spire by bishop elphinstone, who began the ill-fated choir. bishop stewart built the chapter-house. the troubles of the reformation and of the civil war wrought much havoc. the lead was torn from the roof; the bells were shipped off to holland and lost at sea. the stones of the choir were used for fortifications by cromwell's troops; the great tower fell and destroyed the transepts, and all that remains of this church is the nave. the west front is an imposing piece of work. the west window consists of seven lofty narrow openings, with cusped arches at the head. the towers, capped with spires, are very massive in their granite ruggedness. there are five bays in the nave, with round piers, decorated arches, no triforium, and small clerestory windows. on the ceiling are forty-eight heraldic shields of princes, nobles and bishops who aided in the erection of the church. king's college, founded by bishop elphinstone in 1498, should be visited. the original oak canopied stalls, _misereres_, and lofty open screen in the chapel, are some of the finest work of the period. the influence of the french flamboyant style is evident in their execution. these beautiful works of art were saved from destruction by the bravery of the principal, who summoned his people, and protected his treasures from the fury of the barons of mearns, after they had sacked the cathedral. dunblane cathedral this cathedral is one of the few specimens of gothic art in scotland which escaped destruction at the reformation. nearly all the building is early english, except the tower, which is early norman. ruskin wrote his praise of this edifice:- "he was no uncommon man who designed the cathedral of dunblane. i know nothing so perfect in its simplicity, and so beautiful, so far as it reaches, in all the gothic with which i am acquainted. and just in proportion to his power of mind, that man was content to work under nature's teaching, and instead of putting merely formal dog-tooth, as everybody else did at that time, he went down to the woody banks of the sweet river, beneath the rocks of which he was building, and took up a few of the fallen leaves that lay by it, and he set them on his arch, side by side for ever." there was an early church on this site founded by st. blane. this early church was superseded in 1150 by one erected by king david of scotland. all that remains of this church is the fine norman tower. the rest of the church fell into ruin and neglect, until the time of bishop clement, who, about 1240, began to build this beautiful church in early english style. at the reformation great damage was done, when over-zealous protestants pulled down the roof and carried off much plate and treasure. for centuries the nave remained in this condition; the choir and chapter-house were roofed over, in order to form a parish church; and now a great restoration of the church has recently taken place. a new roof has been erected, after the fashion of the cathedral church of aberdeen, with its heraldic devices, and the whole church repaired and beautified. the west front is early english in design, with lancet windows, a deeply-recessed doorway, and in the gable a window with the leaf decoration praised by ruskin. the nave has eight bays, and is late early english. the pulpit is modern, and also the screen. the choir has no aisles, and has six lancet windows, with a large east window. the stall-work of sixteenth-century is beautifully carved, and there are some interesting grotesques. on the west side of the choir is the chapter-house, which is the earliest part of the present church, with the exception of the tower, and has an upper room, possibly used as a treasury or _reclusorium_. the tower is an important structure, of early norman character, and doubtless served the same purpose as the round towers of ireland and brechin, affording shelter in case of attack. there are good reasons for believing that originally it was separate from the church. the upper portion was added later. a fine view can be obtained from the summit. there are some interesting monuments in the cathedral, and in the churchyard is the tomb of the heroine of the song, "charming young jessie, the flower of dunblane." dunkeld cathedral the first church was founded by constantin, king of the picts, about 800 a.d., and the culdees were established in a monastery here. in 1107 it became the seat of a bishopric, and a colony of augustinian canons replaced the former dwellers. a new choir was built in 1220-1250, in the early english style. during the wars with england, in 1380, it was burnt, but almost immediately restored. the nave was finished by bishop lauder in 1465. he was a most munificent prelate, who did much for his cathedral, began the tower and chapter-house, and furnished the cathedral with gifts of much valuable church plate. there is a curious story[21] of a highlanders' raid, and of their entry to the church, and of the bishop's perilous escape to the rafters of his church, in order to escape their hands. on another occasion the church was besieged in the time of the famous bishop gavin douglas, the translator of the _æneid_ (1576). his election to the see was opposed by the stewarts, the inveterate enemies of his house; and andrew stewart barred the door against him, and fought against him from his stronghold in the tower. douglas soon gathered his friendly clans together, and forced an entrance. it is uncertain when the nave lost its roof, probably when certain lairds at the reformation went on their base crusade, plundering and destroying churches, and seizing their goods and valuables. after the battle of killiecrankie there was a great fight here, and an asylum of refuge was found here by the people, who fortified their position with the seats, and did much damage. the roof was destroyed, and the nave has been ever since exposed to the storms of wind and rain. the choir is now used as the parish church, having been rebuilt. the nave has seven bays, and measures 120 feet by 60 feet. the piers are of massive norman character, and there is a somewhat poor triforium and clerestory. the original choir was built by bishop sinclair in 1350. the tower, 96 feet high, is perpendicular, the work of bishop lauder (1469), and finished by bishop brown in 1501, and is a very good example of the style. the south porch was built by lauder, but it is now in ruins. the chapter-house is the work of the same bishop. it contains the vault of the dukes of athol. here, near the porch, is buried alexander stuart, earl of buchan, better known as the "wolf of badenoch" (1394), who burned down elgin cathedral and devastated the place. few churches have passed through such stormy scenes as dunkeld, and its ruined state is a melancholy testimony to the lawlessness of the tumultuous times, which have left their mark upon its desecrated walls. footnote: [21] _scottish cathedrals and abbeys_, by m.e. leicester addis. st. andrew's cathedral of the once great cathedral of st. andrew, the primatical see of scotland, few traces are left. its consecration in the time of robert bruce was marked by unparalleled pomp and circumstance. all the most distinguished in church and state were present, no less than seven bishops and fifteen abbots, the king and well-nigh all the flower of his nobility. it was originally founded by bishop arnold (1159-1162). its plan was cruciform, and was 355 feet in length, and the nave 200 feet, and there was a lady chapel at the east end. it had a grand central tower, and six turrets, of which three remain. a fire partly destroyed it in 1378, but it was restored and embellished, and finished in 1440. in 1559 john knox preached a fiery sermon in the town church, which led the magistrates and inhabitants of the city to plunder the cathedral and strip it of its altars and ornaments. the whole church was ransacked and left to fall into ruin. soon the central tower fell, and carried with it the north wall; and since then the church has been used as a quarry. the ruins are picturesque in their decay. all that remain are the east and west gables, part of the south wall of the nave and the west wall of the south transept. the style of these ruins is partly norman and partly early english. under the east window, built up in the wall, is a curious runic inscription. the castle at st. andrews is closely connected with the cathedral, as it was built by bishop roger in the thirteenth century as an episcopal residence. the old castle was destroyed in the fourteenth century, and soon afterwards rebuilt. here cardinal beaton was murdered, who had witnessed the burning of wishart in front of his castle. the bottle dungeon is a curious place of incarceration, and, besides the towers and walls, there is an interesting subterranean passage which enabled persons to escape from the castle in time of siege. st. giles' cathedral, edinburgh edinburgh was not raised to episcopal rank until the time of charles i. the church has a great history, though it is popularly remembered as the place where jenny geddes threw her stool at the dean, when the english service book was introduced in the time of charles i. the first church of st. giles was consecrated in 1243, but it was burnt down during the english wars, when most of the city shared the same fate. indeed, signs of fire may still be detected on the piers of the choir and elsewhere. the church is remarkable for its numerous chapels. on the south of the nave two were built in 1387, but these have been destroyed by drastic "restoration." there are the chambers's memorial chapel, the preston aisle, named after one william preston, who brought from france a relic of the patron saint; the chapman aisle, named after chapman, the "scottish caxton," who introduced printing into scotland, and the moray aisle. during the fifteenth century much building was in progress. the choir was lengthened, a clerestory added and the roof raised, and ere the century had elapsed it was raised to the dignity of a collegiate church. the choir is a fine example of fifteenth-century work, and the gothic crown which surmounts the central tower forms a very distinguishing feature. it is unlike anything else we know. few scenes and events in scottish history have not in some way been connected with this church. we see john knox preaching violently here against the iniquities of the court, and especially of the unfortunate queen mary. knox was appointed minister of the church. it was divided into three portions--the great and little kirk and the tolbooth. then in the time of james i. episcopacy was restored, and in 1633 charles i. made st. giles into a cathedral. here jenny geddes, as we have said, expressed her displeasure at the new english liturgy by throwing her stool at the clergyman, and commenced the famous riot which had lamentable results. later on we see the struggle between the covenanters and the royal party, and the head of the duke of argyll stuck on a spike on a gable of the cathedral, the advent of "bonny prince charlie," and all the events of scottish history seem to be associated in some way with st. giles'. its war-worn banners, its monuments of national heroes, all combine to add a peculiar interest to the building. the church owes much of its present beauty to the munificence of dr. william chambers, who rescued the building from neglect, and renewed and beautified it. he was one of the firm of the great edinburgh publishers. amongst other memorials of recent worthies we find a window to r.l. stevenson, and in the moray chapel a monument to general wauchope, who was killed gallantly leading his troops in the recent war in south africa. although the choir is fifteenth-century work, it differs much from that of the same period in england. in scotland french influence was much felt in the development of architecture, and the builders inclined more to the french flamboyant rather than to the english perpendicular. the new cathedral of the episcopal church of scotland at edinburgh, designed by sir g. scott, is one of the finest and largest of our modern gothic buildings. kirkwall cathedral if we journey to the remote orkneys we shall see a noble cathedral at kirkwall, which is of peculiar interest. until the year 1472 these islands belonged to norway, and were under the episcopal supervision of the archbishop of drontheim in that kingdom. the cathedral is therefore connected with the rule of norwegian earls and bishops, and has many features differing from those types which are more familiar to us. it was founded by the norwegian earl ronald in 1137, and was designed and constructed by the norwegian kol. here were buried many scandinavian jarls and bishops, but their tombs have disappeared. there is a fine nave of eight bays, which is of the norman character, and a choir of six bays, screened off so as to form a parish church. the piers are all round and massive, and the arches round-headed, both in the main arcade and in the triforium and clerestory. there is some fine norman arcading, with intersecting arches on the side walls. the church is dedicated to st. magnus, and is 226 feet long by 56 feet wide. the original choir ended in an apse, but it was lengthened by bishop stewart in 1511, and the west end of the nave was finished by bishop reid in 1540. different coloured stone is used extensively in the building, principally the red and yellow sandstone, and these varied hues add greatly to the architectural effect. the three west doors are particularly fine. the tower has fifteenth-century windows, and the bells were given by bishop maxwell at the end of the fifteenth century. near the church are the ruins of the bishop's palace, where king haco died in 1263, and also the earl's palace, which, after the incorporation of the islands with scotland, was assigned to the bishops for a residence. the church has been much restored during the last century. glossary of architectural terms _abacus._--the uppermost division of the capital, or head of a column, originally square and plain, in later styles more or less decorated with moulding, and in the early english and decorated periods generally circular or polygonal. in classic architecture it supported the horizontal superstructure of the entablature, but in gothic architecture the arch rises directly from it. _apse._--the round or polygonal end of a chancel. _architrave._--the lowest division of the entablature in classic architecture; ornamental moulding round the exterior curve of an arch or round the openings of doors and windows, etc. _ashlar._--hewn stone. _aumbrey or almery._--a cupboard for containing the sacred vessels. _ball-flower moulding._--ornament resembling a ball enclosed in a globular flower of three petals. _baluster._--a small turned wooden pillar, generally circular. _bay._--the compartment of a church formed by the buttresses or pilasters on the walls, the main arches or pillars, the ribs of the vaulting, or other features which separate the building into corresponding portions. _campanile._--a bell tower. _cavetto._--a concave moulding of a quarter of a circle, used in classical and other styles of architecture. _chamfer._--to cut off angles. _clerestory or clear-story._--an upper storey, or row of windows in a gothic church; so called to distinguish it from the blind-storey, or triforium. _corbel._--a projecting stone or piece of timber supporting a weight. _corbel-table._--a row of corbels. _credence._--a small table or shelf near the altar on which the bread and wine were placed before they were consecrated. _crocket._--a bunch of projecting flowers or foliage decorating pinnacles, arches, etc. _cusps._--the projecting points in gothic tracery, or inside an arch; sometimes worked at the ends with leaves, flowers, or heads. _dog-tooth moulding._--ornaments usually consisting of four plain leaves, arranged so as to form a point. _dripstone._--projecting tablet or moulding over heads of archways, windows, doorways, etc. _fan-vaulting._--vaulting in which the ribs rise with the same curve and diverge equally in every direction from the springing of the vault. _finial._--a foliated ornament ending a pinnacle or gable, etc. _flamboyant._--a name given to late decorated style of architecture from the flame-like wavings of its tracery. _gargoyle._--a projecting spout, often carved in a grotesque form. _groin._--the angle formed by the intersection of vaults. _herring-bone work._--masonry in which the stones are placed aslant, forming a fish-bone pattern. _jamb._--the side of a window or door, etc. _miserere._--a projecting bracket on the under side of the seats of stalls, which were made to turn up; the monks were allowed to lean on these brackets during the long services, which were performed standing. _mullion._--perpendicular bar between the lights of windows in gothic architecture. _nail-headed moulding._--moulding in imitation of ornamental nail-heads. _newell._--the column round which a spiral staircase winds. _ogee._--a moulding partly concave and partly convex, forming a round and a hollow. term also applied to an arch formed of contrasted curves. _orders._--the recesses of a divided arch. _parvise._--a small room over the porch. _pilaster._--a pillar, sometimes disengaged but generally attached to a wall. _piscina._--a basin attached to the wall near the altar of a church, where the priest washed his hands and rinsed the chalice. _plate-tracery._--tracery which appears as if formed by piercing a flat surface with ornamental patterns. _plinth._--the lowest division of the base of a column, or projecting face at the bottom of a wall. _presbytery._--the part of a church where the high altar stands. _reredos._--a screen at the back of an altar. _rood-loft._--a gallery over the screen separating the nave from the chancel, on which the great cross or _rood_ was fixed. _sedilia._--the seats for the officiating clergy. _soffit._--the under side of an arch, cornice, etc. _spandrel._--the triangular space between arches. _splay._--the expansion given to windows and other openings by slanting the sides. _springing._--the point at which an arch unites with its support. _squint._--an oblique opening in the wall of a church. _stoup._--a vessel or stone basin formed in the wall, serving as a receptacle for holy water. _string-course._--a horizontal moulding running along a wall. _transom._--a horizontal cross-bar in a window. _triforium._--a gallery in the wall over the arches which separates the body of the church from the aisles. _tympanum._--the space above the horizontal opening of a doorway and the arch above; the space between an arch and the triangular drip-stone or hood-mould which surmounts it. index aberdeen, 443 bangor, 426 bath, 161 beverley, 327 brechin, 442 bristol, 138 canterbury, 68 carlisle, 272 chester, 248 chichester, 96 dunblane, 444 dunkeld, 445 durham, 283 ely, 377 exeter, 164 glasgow, 439 glossary of architectural terms, 450 gloucester, 178 hereford, 204 iona, 441 kirkwall, 448 lichfield, 230 lincoln, 337 liverpool, 263 llandaff, 429 manchester, 264 newcastle, 282 norwich, 393 oxford, 125 peterborough, 360 ripon, 297 rochester, 57 salisbury, 108 southwell, 351 st. alban's, 409 st. andrew's, 446 st. asaph's, 423 st. david's, 432 st. giles', edinburgh, 447 st. paul's, 8 the architecture of the cathedrals of great britain, 1 truro, 177 wakefield, 333 wells, 149 westminster, 35 winchester, 85 worcester, 216 york, 309 * * * * * transcriber's notes punctuation and spelling errors and inconsistent hyphenation have been corrected. italic text is denoted by _underscore_ and bold text by =equal signs=. in the inscriptions described on page 197, the letters a, e and u which have macrons in the original text, have been represented in this version using circumflexes, i.e. grâ, plê and jhû. in this version of the text, superscripts are represented using the caret character, e.g. y^e. the oe ligatures in the text are shown as separate oe characters. in ambiguous cases, the text has been left as it appears in the original book.