Notwithstanding its defects of detail, there is a variety in the outline of this building and a boldness of profile that render it an extremely pleasing example of the style adopted; and though exhibiting many of the faults incidental to the design of the Colosseum, it possesses all that repetition of parts and Gothic feeling of design which give such value to its dimensions, though these are far from being contemptible, the building being 115 ft. wide by 95 in height to the top of the wings.
221. Bridge at Chamas. (From Laborde’s ‘Monumens de la France.’)
There probably were many similar gates of justice in the province, but all have perished, unless we except those at Autun just described. I am convinced that at that place there were originally such wings as these at Trèves, and that the small church, the apse of which is seen on the right hand (woodcut No. [220]), stands upon the foundations of one of these. A slight excavation on the opposite side would settle this point at once. If it could be proved that these gateways at Autun had such lateral adjuncts, it would at once explain the use of the gallery over the arch, which otherwise looks so unmeaning, but would be intelligible as a passage connecting the two wings together.
Another form also is that of an arch at the entrance of a bridge, generally bearing an inscription commemorative of its building. Its purpose is thus closely connected with that of the arches before mentioned, which commemorate the execution of roads. Most of the great bridges of Italy and Spain were so adorned; but unfortunately they have either been used as fortifications in the Middle Ages, or removed in modern times to make room for the increased circulation of traffic. That built by Trajan on his noble bridge at Alcantara in Spain is well known; and there exists a double-arched bridge at Saintes, in the south of France. The most elegant and most perfect specimen, however, of this class is that of St. Chamas in Provence, represented in woodcut No. [221]. It consists of two arches, one at each end of the bridge, of singular elegance of form and detail. Although it bears a still legible inscription, it is uncertain to what age it belongs, probably that of the Antonines: and I would account for the purity of its details by referring to the Greek element that pervades the south of France. Whether this is so or not, it is impossible not to admire not only the design of the whole bridge with its two arches, but the elegance with which the details have been executed.
Used in this mode as commencements of roads, or entrances to bridges, or as festal entrances to unfortified towns, there are perhaps no monuments of the second class more appropriate or more capable of architectural expression than these arches, though all of them have been more or less spoiled by an incongruous order being applied to them. Used, however, as they were in Rome, as monuments of victory, without offering even an excuse for a passage through them, the taste displayed in them is more than questionable: the manner, too, in which they were cut up by broken cornices and useless columns placed on tall pedestals, with other trivial details highly objectionable, deprive them of that largeness of design which is the only true merit and peculiar characteristic of Roman art, while that exquisite elegance with which the Greeks knew so well how to dignify even the most trivial objects was in them almost entirely lost.
Columns of Victory.
Columns of Victory are a class of monuments which seem to have been used in the East in very early times, though their history it must be confessed is somewhat fragmentary and uncertain, and they seem to have been adopted by the Romans in those provinces where they had been employed by the earlier inhabitants. Whatever the original may have been, the Romans were singularly unsuccessful in their application of the form. They never, in fact, rose above the idea of taking a column of construction, magnifying it, and placing it on a pedestal, without any attempt to modify its details or hide the original utilitarian purpose for which the column was designed. When they attempted more than this, they failed entirely in elaborating any new form at all worthy of admiration. The Columna Rostrata, or that erected to celebrate naval victories, was, so far as we can judge from representations (for no perfect specimen exists), one of the ugliest and clumsiest forms of column it is possible to conceive.
Of those of Victory, one of the most celebrated is that erected by Diocletian at Alexandria. A somewhat similar one exists at Arsinoë, erected by Alexander Severus; and a third at Mylassa in Caria. All these are mere Corinthian columns of the usual form, and with the details of those used to support entablatures in porticoes. However beautiful these may be in their proper place, they are singularly inappropriate and ungraceful when used as minarets or single columns.
