Fig. 204.—Plan, Church of St. Regulus, St. Andrews.

Mr. Billings has given a good view of this interesting, and, I may say, beautiful, remain; and I am enabled, by the kindness of a friend (Mr. R. Anderson, of Edinburgh), to show you detailed drawings of it. It consists either of a nave (with chancel arch) and a western tower, or of a chancel with apse arch and a central tower, in which latter case it would be parallel to the remains of Jarrow Church. In the other case, it may have had a lofty western porch, as had those of Wearmouth and Barton-upon-Humber. The large western arch in the tower must have opened into either a nave or a porch; and, as this is actually larger than the chancel arch, and the mark of the roof of equal height, it certainly suggests a nave. Its workmanship is of a very superior character: and its details, though plain and archaic, are very good. The tower is of great height, evidently, like many other early towers in Scotland, founded on the idea of the early campaniles of Italy. The capitals of shafts closely resemble those of St. Pantaleon at Cologne,[3] which are of the tenth century. I find it difficult to conjecture the age of this church; but, I imagine it to be anterior in its date to the introduction of Norman architecture into England. It is said that when the surrounding ground was excavated the foundations of an apse were found.

Fig. 205.—Details, Church of St. Regulus, St. Andrews.

I will not dwell on the Irish crosses, and the round towers,—time not permitting,—though both are among the most remarkable features of early Irish art. The towers agree precisely in their architectural details with the churches, and never appear but in connection with them. They are known in the Irish language by a name signifying a belfry, and were no doubt the campaniles of the monasteries, their unique type showing the originality of invention of these early architects. Their doors were placed at a considerable height for the sake of security; they were divided into several stories, each with a single window except the upper one, which had four or more,—all pointing out their double object of bell towers and places of defence. Two similar towers remain in Scotland.

The Irish and Iona crosses are works of extreme beauty, and of very decorative detail. I shall have to allude to their anti-types in England when speaking of Anglo-Saxon architecture, to the consideration of which I will now proceed.

The subject of the architecture of pre-Norman England,—that is to say, of England (exclusive of Wales and the counties occupied by the Britons), between the arrival of Augustine in 596, and that of William of Normandy in 1066,—a period exceeding by ten years the interval between the reigns of Edward III. and Queen Victoria,—has been held by some to be involved in such utter obscurity as to leave it uncertain whether any such architecture existed, or, at least, whether we have any means of ascertaining what it was; and yet no period of history is, perhaps, more replete with accounts of the foundation of cathedrals, monasteries, and churches. The cause of this is clear. The churches of this period were, no doubt, frequently of timber; but, of whatever material, were subjected,—first to the destructive effects of the repeated devastations of the Danes, and subsequently to the greater architectural ambition of the Normans which led to a perfect mania for reconstruction. The consequence is, that we have no cathedral or great abbey or church remaining of this period, and have to content ourselves with such evidences of their style as may be gleaned from among ordinary parish churches for the most part in rural districts, and consequently of the humbler class.

The historical notices of the erection of churches during the Anglo-Saxon period are more frequent than descriptive.

On the arrival of Augustine, he found the Church of St. Martin, Canterbury, already used by the Christian Queen Bertha. This was, no doubt, a Romano-British structure. He found also a second, but in ruins; and this he made the nucleus of his metropolitan cathedral. He constructed also a third, afterwards called by his own name. We know, too, that in his day were also founded the cathedrals of Rochester and London; and there is no reason to doubt that all of these were of stone. I am not aware that we hear anything more, in Anglo-Saxon days, of St. Martin’s, or that we have any description of St. Augustine’s, but we have a strong light thrown on the subsequent history of the cathedral up to the Norman Conquest in the writings of one Eadmer, a singer at the cathedral, who wrote early in the twelfth century.