Now Mr Addy’s theory, which he supports with abundant details and illustrative comparisons, is surpassingly attractive to the archaeologist, especially to one who has grasped the fact of the former unity of secular and religious movements in the village commonwealth. The conclusions are, nevertheless, open to some criticism. At the outset, the theory seems to assume that the Roman secular basilica was the immediate prototype of the Christian church, and this assumption, as will be shown in a later chapter, runs contrary to the teaching of very good authorities. Again, though Mr Addy has adduced several examples of crypts connected with buildings in the basilican style of architecture, we have just seen that the word “basilica” itself, as applied to Christian churches, cannot be traced earlier than the seventh century. One would have rather expected to find the name given to the first Romano-British churches of the country. This absence of the term, it is true, is not a fatal objection. Nor does it lie in the mouth of those who believe, that, as in the case of fortress-towers, defensive designs outlasted their real use, to deny that the provision of crypts continued after their first purpose was forgotten. Hence, one is not disposed to cavil at the example adduced from Hornsea in the East Riding, where the present building dates no earlier than the fourteenth century. There was a church in Hornsea at the time of the Domesday survey, and there may have existed a crypt before the Norman Conquest.
A more serious objection is the anachronism, for so it seems, which makes English assemblies meet indoors at the early period when open-air courts were the rule. For we are not dealing with the Norman or the Plantagenet periods. That the old Greek assemblies were held in the basilicas may be true, but the earliest moots of which we have records in Britain were held out of doors. Little can be inferred from comparing the customs of peoples who occupied different social and political levels. The British open-air gatherings were doubtless in vogue before the days of the feudal lord, or even his pre-manorial prototype. From what has gone before, it will be readily supposed that the church built near the stronghold of the feudal chief was dominated by the lord or his representative. In this special sense, the church was, indeed, the “lord’s house,” because, if necessary, it was utilized as a court-room[365]. But that the “Lord’s house” in England was ever primarily and essentially the “lord’s house” (κῡριακόν), may be doubted. Leaving aside the question of origins, we require to know by what process that particular transition from the political to the religious use was made; if it were ever effected in this country at all. The English evidence rather shows that a reverse development took place: the “Lord’s house” gradually became the “lord’s house” in the limited sense just indicated. At any rate, before the time when churches began to be commonly used as secular trysting places, that is, in the late Saxon and the Norman periods, the word “church” itself was established in popular speech. And it remains to be proved that “basilica” ever was, to any appreciable extent, an alternative term. Expressed otherwise, we may say that the word “church” would, by the time of the introduction of Christianity to Britain, have lost its primary Greek connotation, and this would scarcely be revived and transferred to Christian churches reared under a new set of conditions.
With respect to the squints, is it claimed that the early basilicas possessed similar apertures, or that these familiar skew openings were the rule, even in those churches which are most closely connected with the moated fortress? One does not overlook the abundance of squints in the churches of such a district as that around Tenby, nor forget that these buildings exhibit defensive features ([p. 113] supra). Were the problem concerned with South Pembrokeshire as a self-contained country, the theory of the lord and his door-keeper would seem more plausible. As the facts stand, however, it is more reasonable to rely on the old, if incomplete, explanation that a line of squints permitted the door-keeper to see the altar and to ring the Sanctus bell at a given moment. Numerous minor difficulties are involved in Mr Addy’s theory. The squints are often on the North side of the building, and are not in the line of communication with the Southern door. Again, they are frequently seen in chantries and transepts, where they point to the interior of the sanctuary, if not to the altar itself, as at Whatley, in Somerset, or Leatherhead, Surrey ([Fig. 36]). Still further, the squints, on the whole, belong to the post-Norman period of architecture, when constructional decoration, as well as utility, was kept in view by the builders.
In the light of comparative custom, the theory of the “lord’s house” may, at first sight, appear tenable. Indeed, there may have been a time in the history of Greece when this hypothesis corresponded to the facts. Applied to this country, however, and tested in details, the theory seems to fail, and can only be countenanced with great qualifications.
Fig. 36. Squint in East wall of North transept, Leatherhead church, Surrey. Persons sitting in the portion of the transept shown in the illustration can see the altar through the squint.
In the last chapter, allusion was made to the church porch as a centre of public life, and this part of the building has just come under notice again in connection with the door-ward. A few further remarks may now be added. The church porch was often of great size ([Fig. 37]). The practice of holding schools in the porch is well attested. In Derbyshire villages, such as
