Rudimentary Architecture for the Use of Beginners / The Orders and Their Æsthetic Principles

by W. H. Leeds

Having thus far briefly explained the rationale of the Orders with regard to the division of them into three leading classes, each of which, distinct from the other two, yet comprises many varieties or species,—which, however much they may differ with respect to minor distinctions, all evidently belong to one and the same style, or what we call Order,—we have now to consider their constituent parts, that is, those which apply to every Order alike. Hitherto it has been usual with most writers to treat of an Order as consisting of three principal parts or divisions, viz. pedestal, column, and entablature. The first of these, however, cannot by any means be regarded as an integral part of an Order. So far from being an essential, it is only an accidental one,—one, moreover, of Roman invention, and applicable only under particular circumstances. The pedestal no more belongs to an Order than an attic or podium placed above the entablature. In the idea of an Order we do not include what is extraneous to the Order itself: it makes no difference whether the columns stand immediately upon the ground or floor, or are raised above it. They almost invariably are so raised, because, were the columns to stand immediately upon the ground or a mere pavement, the effect would be comparatively mean and unsatisfactory; the edifice would hardly seem to stand firmly, and, for want of apparent footing, would look as if it had sunk into the ground, or the soil had accumulated around it. With the view, therefore, of increasing height for the whole structure, and otherwise enhancing its effect, the Greeks placed their temples upon a bold substructure, composed of gradini or deep steps, or upon some sort of continuous stylobate; either of which modes is altogether different from, and affords no precedent for, the pedestal of modern writers. And here it may be remarked, that of the dignity imparted to a portico by a stylobate forming an ascent up to it in front, we have a fine example in that of St. George’s Church, Bloomsbury, which so far imitates the celebrated Maison Carrée at Nismes. Nevertheless, essential as some sort of stylobate is to the edifice itself, it does not properly belong to it, any more than that equally essential—in fact more indispensable part—the roof.

It is not without some regret that we abandon, as wholly untenable, the doctrine of the pedestal being an integral part of an Order: it would be so much more agreeable to say that the entire Order consists of three principal divisions, just the same as each of the divisions themselves. As regards the entire structure, such triplicity, that of ‘beginning, middle, and end,’ was observed. For ‘beginning,’ there was substructure, however denominated, or whether expressly denominated at all, or not; for ‘middle,’ there were the columns; and for ‘end’ or completion, the entablature. For the whole of a structure, there is or ought to be such ‘beginning, middle, and end;’ but from the Order itself we exclude one of them, as not being dependent upon it either for character or treatment.

The pedestal being discarded as something apart from the Order itself, the latter is reduced to the two grand divisions of column and entablature, each of which is subdivided into three distinct parts or members, viz. the column, into base, shaft, and capital; the entablature, into architrave, frieze, and cornice; so that the latter is to the entablature what the capital is to the column, namely, its crowning member,—that which completes it to the eye. Yet, although the above divisions of column and entablature hold good with regard to the general idea of an Order, the primitive Greek or Doric one does not answer to what has just been said, inasmuch as it has no base,—that is, no mouldings which distinctly mark the foot of the column as a separate and ornamented member. Hence it will perhaps be thought that this Order is not so complete as the others, since it wants that member below which corresponds with the capital above. Still the Grecian Doric column is complete in itself: it needs no base,—in fact, does not admit of such addition without forfeiting much of its present character, and thus becoming something different. Were there a distinct base, the mouldings composing it could not very well exceed what is now the lower diameter or actual foot of the column; because, were it to do so, either the base would become too bulky in proportion to the capital, or the latter must be increased so as to make it correspond in size with the enlarged lower extremity. Even then that closeness of intercolumniation (spacing of the columns), which contributes so much to the majestic solidity that characterizes the genuine Doric, could not be observed; unless the columns were put considerably further apart, the bases would scarcely allow sufficient passage between them. The only way of escaping from these objections and difficulties is by making the shaft of the column considerably more slender, so that what was before the measure of the lower diameter of the shaft itself, becomes that of the base. That can be done—has been done, at least something like it; but the result is an attenuated Roman or Italian Doric, differing altogether in proportions from the original type or order. The shaft no longer tapers visibly upwards, or, what is the same thing, expands below.

Before we come to speak of the Orders severally and more in detail, there are some other matters which require to be noticed; one of which is the origin of the Greek system of columniation, or the prototype upon which it was modelled. Following Vitruvius, nearly all writers have agreed to recognize in the columnar style of the ancients the primitive timber hut, as furnishing the first hints for and rudiments of it. Such theory, it must be admitted, is sufficiently plausible, if only because it can be made to account very cleverly for many minor circumstances. Unfortunately, it does not account at all for, or rather is in strong contradiction to, the character of the earliest extant monuments of Greek architecture. Timber construction would have led to very different proportions and different taste. Had the prototype or model been of that material, slenderness and lightness, rather than ponderosity and solidity, would have been aimed at; and the progressive changes in the character of the Orders would have been reversed, since the earliest of them all would also have been the lightest of them all. The principles of stone construction have so evidently dictated and determined the forms and proportions of the original Doric style, as to render the idea of its being fashioned upon a model in the other material little better than an absurd though time-honoured fiction. Infinitely more probable is it, that the Greeks derived their system of architecture from the Egyptians; because, much as it differs from that of the latter people with regard to taste and matters of ornamentation, it partakes very largely of the same constitutional character. At any rate the doctrine of a timber origin applies as well to the Egyptian as to the Hellenic or Grecian style. Indeed, if there be any thing at all that favours such doctrine, it is, that construction with blocks of stone would naturally have suggested square pillars instead of round ones; the latter requiring much greater labour and skill to prepare them than the others. But, as their pyramids and obelisks sufficiently testify, the most prodigal expenditure of labour was not at all regarded by the Egyptians. That, it will perhaps be said, still does not account for the adoption of the circular or cylindrical form for columns. We have therefore to look for some sufficiently probable motive for the adoption of that form; and we think that we find it in convenience. In order to afford due support to the massive blocks of stone placed upon them, the columns were not only very bulky in proportion to their height, but were placed so closely together, not only in the fronts of porticoes, but also within them, that they would scarcely have left any open space. Such inconvenience was accordingly remedied by making the pillars round instead of square. Should such conjectural reason for the adoption of circular columns be rejected, it is left to others to propound a more satisfactory one, or to abide, as many probably will do, by the old notion of columns being so shaped in order to imitate the stems of trees. It is enough that whatever accounts for the columns being round in Egyptian architecture, accounts also for their being the same in that of the Greeks.

Among other fanciful notions entertained with regard to columns and their proportions, is that of the different orders of columns being proportioned in accordance with the human figure. Thus the Doric column is said to represent a robust male figure, and those of the two other Orders, female ones,—the Ionic, a matron; the Corinthian, a less portly specimen of feminality. Now, so far from there being any general similitude between a Grecian Doric column and a robust man, their proportions are directly opposite,—the greater diameter of the column being at its foot, while that of the man is at his shoulders. The one tapers upwards, the other downwards. If the human figure and its proportions had been considered, columns would, in conformity with such type, have been wider at the top of their shafts than below, and would have assumed the shape of a terminus,[1] or of a mummy-chest. With regard to the other two Orders, it is sufficient to observe, that if so borrowed at all, the idea must have been preposterous. We happen to have a well-known example of statues or human figures, and those, moreover, female ones, being substituted for columns beneath an entablature; and so far are they from confirming the pretended analogy between the Ionic column and the proportions of a female, that they decidedly contradict it, those figures being greatly bulkier in their general mass than the bulkiest and stoutest columns of the Doric Order. At any rate, one hypothesis might satisfy those who will not be satisfied without some fancy of the kind, because two together do not agree: if columns originated in the imitation of stems of trees, we can dispense with the imitation of men and women, and vice versá.

Some may think that it is hardly worth while to notice such mere fancies; yet it is surely desirable to attempt to get rid of them by exposing their absurdity, more especially as they still continue to be gravely brought forward and handed down traditionally by those who write upon the Orders, or who, if they do not actually write, repeat what others have written. It is worth while to clear away, if possible, and that, too, at the very outset of the study, erroneous opinions, prejudices, and misconceptions. We do not pretend to explain and trace, step by step, the progress of the Doric Order, and of the columnar system of the Greeks, from their first rudiments and formation. We have only the results of such progressive development or formation; of the actual formation itself we neither know nor can now ever know any thing. The utmost that can now be done is to take the results themselves, and from them to reason backwards to causes and motives. Adopting such a course, we may first observe, that there is a very striking and characteristic difference between Egyptian and Grecian taste and practice in one respect: in the former style the columns are invariably cylindrical, or nearly so,—in the other they are conical, that is, taper upwards, and in some instances so much so, that were they prolonged to double their height, they would be almost perfect cones, and terminate like a spire. This tapering greatly exceeds that of the stems of trees, taking for their stem the trunk, from above which the branches begin to shoot out. It appears to have been adopted for purely artistic reasons, certainly not for the sake of any positive advantage, since the diminution of the shaft, and the great contraction of the diameter just below the capital, must rather decrease than at all add to the strength of the column. What, then, are the artistic qualities so obtained? We reply,—variety and contrast, and the expression of strength without offensive heaviness. The sudden or very perceptible diminution of the shaft,—it must be borne in mind that our remarks refer exclusively to the original Greek style or Doric Order,—produces a double effect; it gives the column an expression of greater stability than it otherwise would, combined with comparative lightness. What is diminution upwards, is also expansion downwards; and similar difference and contrast take place also with respect to the intercolumns, although in a reverse manner, such intercolumns being wider at top than at bottom. So far the principle of contrast here may be said to be twofold, although one of the two sorts of contrast inevitably results from the other. Were it not for the great diminution of the shaft, the columns would appear to be too closely put together, and the intercolumns much too narrow, that is, according, at least, to the mode of intercolumniation practised by the Greeks in most of their structures in the Doric style; whereas such offensive appearance was avoided by the shaft being made considerably smaller at top than at bottom,—consequently the intercolumns wider above than below, in the same ratio; so that columns which at their bases were little more than one diameter apart, became more than two, that is, two upper diameters apart at the top of their shafts, or the neckings of their capitals. In this style every thing was calculated to produce a character of majestic simplicity,—varying, however, or rather progressing, from heaviness and stern severity to comparative lightness of proportions,—for examples differ greatly in that respect: in some of the earlier ones the columns are not more than four diameters in height, while in some of the later they are upwards of six, which last-mentioned proportions not only amount to slenderness, but also destroy others. The capital itself may be proportioned the same as before relatively to the diameter of the column, but it cannot possibly bear the same ratio as before to its height. The average proportions for that member are one diameter for its width at its abacus, and half a diameter for its depth: consequently, if the entire column be only four diameters in height, the capital is ⅛th of it, or equal to ⅐th of the shaft; whereas, if the column be six or more diameters, the capital becomes only ¹/₁₂th of the column, or even less, so that the latter appears thin and attenuated, and the other member too small and insignificant. Yet though the original Greek Order or style exhibits considerable diversity with respect to mere proportions, it was otherwise very limited in its powers of expression, and moreover something quite distinct from the nominal Doric of the Romans and the Italians, as will be evident when we come to compare the latter with it.

Before we enter upon this part of our subject, and previous to an examination of the details of the several Orders, it should be observed that the diameter, that is, the lower diameter of the column, is the standard by which all the other parts and members of an Order are measured. The diameter is divided into 60 minutes, or into two halves or modules of 30 minutes each; and those minutes are again subdivided into parts or seconds when extreme accuracy of measurement is required; which two last are noted thus: 5′ 10″, for instance, meaning five minutes and ten seconds.

DORIC ORDER.

It has been already observed, that in the genuine Doric the column consists of only shaft and capital, which latter is composed of merely an echinus and abacus, the first being a circular convex moulding, spreading out beneath the other member, which, although a very important one, is no more than a plain and shallow square block upon which the architrave rests, not only firmly and safely, but so that the utmost expression of security is obtained, and pronounced emphatically to the eye. Such expression arises from the abacus being larger than the soffit or under surface of the architrave itself; and as the former corresponds, or nearly so, with the lower diameter of the shaft, it serves to make evident at a glance that the foot of the column is greater than the soffit of the architrave placed upon the columns. Thus, as measured at either extremity, the column is greater than the depth or thickness of the architrave, and projects beyond the architrave and general plane of the entablature. Now this would produce a most unsightly effect were the columns of the same, or nearly the same diameter throughout. In such case they would appear not only too large, but most clumsily so, and the entablature would have the look of being set back in the most awkward and most unaccountable manner. Instead of which, the architrave, and consequently the general plane of the whole entablature, actually overhangs the upper part of the shaft, in a plane about midway between the smallest diameter of the column, just below the capital and the face of the abacus. Even this, the overhanging of the entablature, would be not a little offensive to the eye, were the abacus no larger than the architrave is deep; whereas, being larger, it projects forwarder than the face of the architrave, thereby producing a powerful degree of one species of æsthetic effect, namely, contrast,—and if contrast, of course variety also; for though there may be variety without contrast, there cannot be contrast without variety. Another circumstance to be considered is, that were not such projection beyond the face of the architrave given to the abacus, that and the rest of the capital could not correspond with the foot of the shaft, and thus equalize the two extremities of the entire column. As now managed, all contradictions are reconciled, and the different sorts of contrast are made to contribute to and greatly enhance general harmony. In the outline of the column we perceive, first, contraction,—then expansion, and that in both directions,—for in like manner as the column diminishes upwards and the capital expands from it, its shaft may be said to expand and increase in bulk downwards, so as to agree with the abacus or upper extremity.