CHAPTER XVII.
The history of Architecture still to be considered, extends through fifteen centuries to the present time. This interval may be divided into three eras. I. Period of the circular arch. II. Period of the pointed arch. III. Revival and practice of classic art. The theories so abounding in this particular portion of the subject, must be reviewed as in themselves forming part of the information which the reader has a right to expect; but the notice will be brief, the narrative, it is hoped, enabling the judgment to deduce its own conclusions from facts, independently of all opinion. For this reason, the preceding division is adopted, characterised only by the style of architecture, without reference to those minute distinctions and disputes about names, the great sources of obscurity and unsettled hypothesis in treating of the building of the middle ages. It may be remarked, in limine, that the term, 'Gothic Architecture,' is of late invention, and appears to be used in two distinct, or indeed opposite meanings. First, to denote the whole system of architectural erection intervening between the decline of the ancient classic modes, and their reappearance soon after the revival of letters. In this sense, it is usually employed as expressive of something barbarous and unscientific. In the second place, the phrase is employed by a large school of writers and artists, to denote a system or systems of art, arising, it is acknowledged, among men of rude cultivation in other respects, yet claiming original principles of invention, and very refined rules of practice—so far even as to be an imitation of natural prototypes of very distant, yet tasteful associations. Each of these theories exclusively taken, seems to be disproved by the course of history, when all preconceived notions are laid aside, and when art, as ought ever to be the case, is fairly made its own interpreter.
I. It has been shown that the Romans, in obtaining full mastery of a powerful engine in building—the arch, were at first bold, subsequently lavish, and, it will appear, finally barbarous, in its application. From the reigns even of the early Cæsars, a tendency may be traced in their architecture to become great in mass, but little in parts—to lessen, in the first instance, the vertical or supporting members; and in the second, to load the superstructure, or supported parts. The progress of corruption might be traced, by regular steps, from vast arches, with groins planted on a single Corinthian column, to the arcades of the palace of Dioclesian at Spalatro. These still are left, exhibiting external and internal ranges of arches, springing directly from the capitals of the columns, without any intervening entablature. What more, we ask, is wanting here, to one of the most decided characteristics of one species, at least, of Gothic architecture, and an elemental principle in all kinds? nothing, save a little less elegance of workmanship in the supports, a pier substituted for the column, and the soffit of the arch bevelled instead of being square; steps successively apparent in posterior remains. Surely, then, it is carrying theory beyond all moderate limits, to contend for a separate origin of the system, when the principles of Gothic building are thus distinctly recognizable in a corruption of classic modes, at an era while yet vigorous practice prevailed, with resources undiminished for its support. This corruption, indeed, evidently proceeded, not so much from inefficiency, as from too eager pursuit of novelty—this too, unrestrained by the immediate presence of more simple forms; for, in the baths of the same emperor, appears a less licentious taste. For the exterior, indeed, such Gothic arcades do not seem to have been soon imitated; but for the interior, their adoption was almost immediate. These intermediate steps it is unnecessary farther to pursue at present.
The era of Constantine, though justly regarded as marking the final disappearance of the last lingering rays of ancient taste, proves yet a most important epoch in the history of architecture. The reception of Christianity as the religion of the empire, not only changed to a very great extent, the entire frame and aspect of society, but in a particular manner influenced the practical art of building. As in the heathen temple was traced the great source of perfection in ancient art, so in the Christian church then established, is to be found the origin of those modes and forms, which, for so many centuries, guided modern practice. But the former structure was one of external magnificence only; internally, it was neither intended, nor, unaltered, adapted, to accommodate large assemblies. In the new religion, this became the primary object in its places of worship: while the early Christians refused to make use of the 'houses of idols.' In this emergency, there remained only one course—to convert the most capacious of unobjectionable buildings into churches. Of all these, the Basilicon presented, not only no difficulties as having been desecrated, but also was directly accommodated to the necessities of the case. The ancient Basilicon was a building of great extent, adjoining the forum or great square, in every city, serving at once the purposes of an exchange for the transaction of business, of a court for the administration of justice, and of a place for general resort. The exterior was adorned with porticoes more or less magnificent, while internally it was separated lengthwise by two or four ranges of columns, into three or five longitudinal divisions, according to its width. Of these, the middle one was the largest, open to the top, and uncovered; the side ones were smaller, roofed in, with galleries opening into the centre compartment, and to which access was had by stairs at the two extremities. Under an arched niche, usually at the extremity of the central division, was a tribunal for the judge, exactly in the situation where the Christian altar was afterwards placed. From the whole description, it is evident, that the only alteration necessary to convert this edifice into a complete church, with its nave and lateral aisles, was to place a roof over the middle portion. Thus the first Christian churches were formed; and hence many of those in Rome still retain the name of Basilicon. Subsequently, the transepts were added, to imitate the cross, though this form seems to have been very early known in the East.
The general form of the church being thus determined, more through chance than design, yet with great convenience and propriety, this accidental form was adhered to in the subsequent erections for sacred purposes; but with certain internal arrangements, modified by the lessened resources of the art, the prevailing taste, and the novel exigencies of the case. Instead of the horizontal entablature resting upon the internal ranges of pillars, as in the more classical Basilicon, churches were constructed internally of arcades, the arches resting upon the capitals of the columns. These latter were torn from more ancient edifices, but combined, and often with considerable effect, by the ruder efforts of existing art. Thus, with columns for supports, united with ranges of semicircular arches abutting against the walls, we soon find the perfect Gothic church established.
This style of building, recommended at once by convenience and necessity, rapidly spread over the whole of Italy and the Empire, for Constantinople was erected from pilfered monuments, which, when taken to pieces and transported thither, were subsequently set up in a most confused and imperfect manner. When the supporting columns could no longer be obtained from ancient structures, or where this resource had never existed, the whole was to be reared from the foundation. Here it would soon be discovered that a cylindrical, square, or bevelled pier, without diminution, would be a fitter and more easily erected support for the arch. From the desire of stability, or the imperfection of skill, this pier, of whatever form, begins gradually to decrease in altitude, while it becomes more massive, still with a base and capital palpable though rude imitations of the same, members of the classic column.
In this state was the art, when Italy fell under the power of barbarian conquerors. This style they adopted in their own buildings; for, after conquest was secure, they patronised the arts of their subjects, introducing a still greater profusion of ornament, rudely executed, and in worse design. Yet the whole effect of such works is often not without grandeur. Beginning with Rome, we might instance, from our own observation, a continuous series of monuments, of a style such as now described, still remaining in different parts of Italy, especially the Gothic capitals of Lombardy, as Ravenna, Verona, Pavia, introducing the early revival in Pisa and the cities of Tuscany. Such a survey would unite the labours of Metrodorus, the first Christian architect under Constantine, with those of Buschetto and Diotisalvi, in the commencement of the eleventh century, leading to the mention of various architects of the Gothic kingdom, as Ciriades, of Rome; Aloisius, of Padua, author of the famous tomb of Theodoric, called the Rotunda of Ravenna; St Germain, of France; St Avitus, of Clermont; Agricola, of Chalons; Romnaldus, of France; Tietland, of Germany; with others. Such an inquiry, however, is not here necessary, inasmuch as it must now appear obvious, that the style just described might be termed Gothic, as practised by the mixed race of invaders, who, under the name of Goths, subdued Italy; but that such a style could not have been introduced by them from the forests of Germany and the wilds of Pannonia.