Fig. 9.—Part Plan.
It will thus be seen that while Brunelleschi’s scheme is essentially different from that of the Baptistery, its structural system is little more than an ingenious modification of it. The parts of the one answer to those of the other with singular completeness. The attic wall and pyramidal roof of San Giovanni are transformed into the external shell of the cathedral dome, the angle buttresses of the older monument become the great angle ribs of Brunelleschi’s vault. The intermediate abutments of the Baptistery are changed into the intermediate ribs of the great dome, and the inclined barrel vaults of the Baptistery scheme are represented in the cathedral dome by the arches sprung between the great angle ribs.
It has been thought by some writers that the rib system of the dome of Florence gives the structure a somewhat Gothic character, and it is sometimes called a Gothic dome.[15] But there can be no such thing as a Gothic dome. It is impossible for a dome of any kind to have the character of a Gothic vault. The difference between the two is fundamental. A Gothic vault is a vault of concentrated thrusts, and it requires effective concentrated abutments. A dome is a vault of continuous thrust, and for sound construction it requires continuous abutments, as in the Pantheon. Whatever use the ribs of Brunelleschi’s vault may have, they do not, and cannot, perform the function of the ribs in Gothic vaulting. Their use is to strengthen the angles of the dome, and to augment its power of resistance to the weight of the lantern which crowns it. They do not support the vault as the ribs of a Gothic vault do. Being composed of very deep voussoirs, they have more strength to withstand thrusts, as well as to bear crushing weight, than the enclosing shells have, and thus to some extent they may hold these shells in. But it appears plain that the architect did not feel confidence in their power to perform this function without reënforcement by a chain, or chains, which, in his own words, “bind the ribs and hold the vault in” (che leghino i detti sproni e cingano la volta dentro). However this may be, the ribs of a dome cannot have any function like that of the ribs in Gothic vaulting. The shell of a Gothic vault is not held in by the ribs, nor is it in any way incorporated with them. Both shell and ribs are held in by the buttresses. This point will be considered further in connection with the dome of St. Peter’s.
The whole scheme of this dome was a daring innovation of one man, and in this it differs from former architectural innovations, which were the comparatively slow outcome of corporate endeavour, progressive changes being so gradual that no wide or sudden departures from habitual modes of building were made at any one time, or by any one person.
It was a prodigious undertaking. The span of the dome is nearly a hundred and forty feet, the springing level is a hundred and seventy-five feet above the pavement, and the height of the dome itself, exclusive of the lantern, is about a hundred and twenty feet. Such a project might well appall the most courageous of building committees, and we need not wonder that the Board of Works drew back in dismay when it was first laid before them.[16]
The successful accomplishment of the work, and the stability which it has thus far maintained, show that the architect was a constructor of great ability,[17] and the fact that he managed to raise the vast fabric without the use of the ponderous and costly kind of centring that had been commonly employed in vaulting, makes the achievement still more remarkable. The precise manner in which he did this is not clear, but of the fact there appears no question.[18]
The dome of Florence is indeed a remarkable piece of construction, and it is no less remarkable as a work of art. In beauty of outline it has not, I think, been approached by any of the later elevated domes of which it is the parent. Yet with all of its mechanical and artistic merit, the scheme is fundamentally false in principle, since it involves a departure from sound methods of dome construction. A bulging thin shell of masonry on a large scale cannot be made secure without abutment, much less can such a shell sustain the weight of a heavy stone structure like the lantern of this monument, without resort to the extraneous means of binding chains. A builder having proper regard for true principles of construction in stone masonry would not undertake such a work. For although it may be possible to give the dome a shape that will be measurably self-sustaining as to thrusts, as Brunelleschi clearly strove to do,[19] it is not possible to make it entirely so, and therefore if deprived of abutment it must be bound with chains. But a structure of masonry which depends for stability on binding chains is one of inherent weakness, and thus of false character.[20]
From these considerations it appears to me that Brunelleschi led the way in a wrong direction, notwithstanding the nobility of his achievement from many points of view. And in following his example modern designers of elevated domes have wandered still farther, as we shall see, from the true path of monumental art.
Moreover, when we consider that a dome set within its drum is not only stronger, but that it is also much better for interior effect, the dome of the Pantheon still remaining the grandest and most impressive arched ceiling of its kind in the world, the unbuttressed modern domes, with their manifold extraneous and hidden devices for security, appear still less defensible.
But in the architectural thought of the Renaissance little heed was given to structural propriety or structural expression, and the Italian writers, who have largely shaped our modern architectural ideas, have not only failed to recognize the inherent weakness of such a building as the dome of Florence, but have even considered the work praiseworthy on account of those very characteristics which make it weak. Thus Sgrilli lauds Brunelleschi for having had the “hardihood to raise to such a height the greatest cupola which until its time had ever been seen, upon a base without any abutments, a thing that had not before been done by any one.”[21] And Milizia says, “It is worthy of special notice that in the construction of this cupola there are no visible abutments.”[22]