There were many fine specimens of this style of railing round tombs, and Westminster Abbey was rich in such examples, but they were actually pulled down and sold for old iron by the order of the then dean, and even the exquisite scroll-work belonging to the tomb of Queen Eleanor was not respected. The iron screen of King Edward the Fourth’s tomb, at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, is a splendid example of ancient iron-work. The fire-dogs or Andirons, as they were called, which supported either the fuel-logs where wood was burnt, or grates for coal, were frequently of splendid design. The ornaments were generally heraldic, and it was not unusual to work the finer parts in brass, for relief of colour and richness of effect. These form a striking contrast with the inconsistencies of modern grates, which are not unfrequently made to represent diminutive fronts of castellated or ecclesiastical buildings with turrets, loopholes, windows, and doorways, all in the space of forty inches. The fender is a sort of embattled parapet, with a lodge-gate at each end; the end of the poker is a sharp pointed finial; and at the summit of the tongs is a saint. It is impossible to enumerate half the absurdities of modern metal-workers; but all these proceed from the false notion of disguising instead of beautifying articles of utility. How many objects of ordinary use are rendered monstrous and ridiculous because the artist, instead of seeking the most convenient form and then decorating it, has embodied some extravagancies to conceal the real purpose for which the article was made! If a clock is required it is not unusual to cast a Roman warrior in a flying chariot, round one of the wheels of which, on close inspection, the hours may be descried; or the whole of a cathedral church reduced to a few inches in height, with the clock-face occupying the position of a magnificent rose window. Surely the inventor of this patent clock-case could never have reflected that according to the scale on which the edifice was reduced, his clock would be about 200 feet in circumference, and that such a monster of a dial would crush the proportions of any building that could be raised. But this is nothing when compared to what we see continually produced from those inexhaustible mines of bad taste, Birmingham and Sheffield; staircase turrets for inkstands, monumental crosses for light shades, gable ends hung on handles for door porters, and four doorways and a cluster of pillars to support a French lamp; while a pair of pinnacles supporting an arch is called a Gothic-pattern scraper, and a wiry compound of quatrefoils and fan tracery an abbey garden seat. Neither relative scale, form, purpose, nor unity of style, is ever considered by those who design these abominations; if they only introduce a quatrefoil or an acute arch, be the outline and style of the article ever so modern and debased, it is at once denominated and sold as Gothic.
SUSPENSION ROOF.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE BUILDER.
Sir—I have introduced the suspension principle in two or three instances with great success, where nothing else could have answered the purpose; and as it was through you that the first impression was made upon my mind of its practicability for building purposes, I at once send you a rude sketch of the last one I have used. It is to carry a roof, lead-flat, and ceiling; it is in connection with the old mansion, an enlargement of the cooking kitchen, taking out the whole of the end wall, 16 feet wide, and making or adding to the same a large bow, which is covered with lead. I have marked the different parts as follows:
A. Suspension-rods secured to walls, 1 inch round, iron, flat in the walls.
B. Screw bolts, 1 inch round, iron.
C. Nuts at bottom of bolts, and brace.
D. Brace, ½ inch round, iron.
E. Head to brace.
F. Iron plate under wood plate, 3 inches by ½ inch, flat.