“Learned commentators view
In Homer more than Homer knew.”
Glancing down the columns of a convenient note-book, one observes, as famous examples of deflected buildings, Lichfield cathedral, which leans to the North, and Canterbury, Ely, and York cathedrals, which incline to the South. Other cases of Northern deflection are Brent Pelham, Hertfordshire (“several degrees North of East”); St Michael’s, Coventry; St Mary’s, York; North Curry, Somerset; St Mary’s, Bridlington, and Whitby Abbey[565].
The instances of deflections towards the South are much more numerous in this country. My list includes Bishopstone and Bosham, Sussex; St Mary’s, Coventry; Holy Trinity, Stratford; Priory church, Tynemouth; West Malling, Kent; St Andrew’s, Lammas, Norfolk (15°); Chipstead and Mickleham, Surrey, and many others. Further lists have been compiled from various sources, but, as the direction of the twist is not usually specified, it would serve no purpose to reproduce the whole catalogue.
Examples of unsymmetrical churches abound on the Continent, but the deflection of these is usually to the North. The Southern bend is not unknown, however, for it is found in the cathedral choirs of Geneva and Stuttgart. Some French chancels even, contrary to common belief, lean to the South. Speaking of the deflection of French churches, M. J. K. Huysmans, in his romance, La Cathédrale, says, “This twist in the church is to be seen almost everywhere—in St Jean at Poitiers, at Tours and at Reims[566].” M. de Caumont observed the Northerly deflection in more than a hundred churches of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the examples being widely scattered[567]. The deviation, in the case of Bayonne cathedral, is at once noticed by the visitor; Mr Baring-Gould claims this irregularity as the result of English domination and English architects[568].
Returning to our own churches, we find it necessary to clear the ground somewhat. On the one hand, we have the estimate given by the able editors of Durandus, to the effect that probably about one quarter of our English churches have a deflection, and that it is usually towards the South[569]. The present writer dare not hazard the opinion that the proportion is so high, but he feels convinced that the instances are too numerous to be explainable by chance. But consider an experience of an opposite kind. About a dozen years ago, Mr G. Watson, of Penrith, stated that he had examined the plans of nearly four hundred churches as shown on the Ordnance maps, and found either no deflection at all, or, at most, a trifling variation[570]. Precisely what constitutes a trifling variation we are not told, though it may be freely admitted that the angle is often very slight. Thus, Mr W. J. Maxton and myself found that the Lady Chapel of St Saviour’s, Southwark, inclined but a degree or two East of the nave, yet surely, even this trivial deflection could have been avoided by the architect, had it been desired. It has been asserted, apparently with some reason, that York cathedral, already cited as a “leaning” edifice, has no deflection[571], and to this the reply has been given that the variation would be obvious on a good ground-plan[572]. There is no need to argue about these examples in detail, because there exist sufficient cases of undisputed deflection.
The “skew chancel” is not confined to one epoch. Yet it is submitted that we have no marked examples before A.D. 1200. The feature is most observable in churches of the time of Edward III. It is said to be doubtful whether any instance could be adduced from the Renaissance period of building; the apparent exception in the church St Mary Magdalen, Taunton, being of later date[573]. That the feature has a certain fixity is shown in the case of St Aldate, Oxford, where it exists in spite of the restoration made in 1863[574]. A late example of the “twisted” ground-plan, which is valueless as regards the present discussion, occurs in St Peter’s of the Vatican. Here we have a deflection of some feet, due to an architect’s blunder, when the Greek cross was formed into a Latin one by prolonging the nave[575].
Admitting, as we are compelled by the facts to admit, that there exist many undoubted examples of skew chancels, we next look for an interpretation. Two schools of thought, the symbolist and the rationalist, are soon encountered. The case presented by the rationalist group of authorities may be thus summarized; deflection is the result either of carelessness or of differences in the dates of building the nave and the chancel respectively. We will consider first the explanation involved in the question of dates. It is generally believed that the choir of a church was often consecrated as soon as it was completed, the consecration of the nave or vestibule being held over until that part of the building was, in turn, ready for use. For instance, as Mr Parker pointed out, the Norman choir and transepts of the earlier Westminster Abbey are known to have been consecrated in A.D. 1065, but the nave, if one were ever added, was probably not finished until the twelfth century. Separate alinements may, in such cases, have been set out, and slight errors have been made during the operation. Again, in some of the churches which show inharmonious alinements, the nave and the choir manifestly belong to different epochs, one or other portion having been rebuilt. The architect of the later period unconsciously took an orientation which deviated from the first axis, or, according to the alternative view, he was actually unable to make the axes correspond. If we assume that he employed a magnetic compass, there is a third possibility of error in the variation of that instrument. But all these hypothetical causes of miscalculation are removed if we attach weight to a simple suggestion which has been made by one or two writers. It is submitted that the axis of the nave or the choir, whichever portion was already standing, would probably be hidden from the mason’s view, through the temporary blocking up of the chancel arch. This might render harmonious alinement a task of some difficulty[576]. It has been averred that every case of deflection occurs in a church which has been partially rebuilt; hence the lack of agreement. It is difficult to say whether this statement is absolutely correct, but it seems to be true in many instances. Even so, why are the misalinements practically confined to re-buildings of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries?
Again, it is asserted that many cases of deflection were discovered only when, in modern times, the rood-screen was, for one reason or another, taken down. In such instances, it is argued, the mason would have his standard line concealed while setting out the new section of the building. But, as we shall shortly see, this fact about the rood-screen may be interpreted in another way. If we accept the Saint’s Day theory, there remains the possibility of error due to the re-dedication, or plural dedication, of churches. The difference might then conceivably originate without any re-building of the fabric. Mr Airy cites the case of Clapham, Bedfordshire. A better known example, possibly, is found in Whitby Abbey. The building, as a whole, is dedicated to St Peter and St Hilda jointly—a fact proved by the Abbey seal. St Peter’s Day is on the 29th of June, and St Hilda’s on the 25th of August[577]; it was therefore tentatively submitted that there have been two dedications for the existing building. At this point we are thrown back on the “two-period” theory, for the Abbey choir dates from the late twelfth century, while the nave, which is considered to be the deflected limb, belongs to the mid-fourteenth century. Yet why should the axis of the nave lie nine feet North of the choir line? Canon Atkinson, who carefully investigated this example, expressed the result thus: the axis of the nave diverges from true East and West by 14°·5, that of the choir by 9°·7. He adds this statement: “That it was planned so requires no elaborate proof[578].” The parish church of Whitby, St Mary’s, which is hard by, and which belongs to the twelfth century, runs exactly parallel to the Abbey choir. Why, again, assuming the theory of separate dedications, should the nave be assigned to one saint, and the choir to another[579]?
This query leads us to consider, for a moment, the subject of dedication to two, or even three patron saints. Miss Frances Arnold-Forster, in her Studies in Church Dedications, suggests several reasons for “twofold ascriptions[580].” The two names may represent that of the founder and that of the patron saint. The Lady chapel or chancel may have been placed under the invocation of one patron, and the rest of the building under another. Or, the founder may have deliberately intended to have a dual dedication. Again, when a church was rebuilt and re-dedicated, a new name may have taken its place alongside the old; such re-naming is thought to have been of frequent occurrence, especially in Cornwall. Lastly, the double dedication may be due to the union and consolidation of two parishes, as is the case with the large majority of our City churches.
Now, with respect to Whitby, we seem to have obtained a clue to the dedication difficulty, at least. The Rev. Canon G. Austen, Rector of Whitby, informs me that the Saxon Abbey was dedicated to St Peter alone. Though somewhat contrary to popular belief, it must be accepted as a proof that the ascription to St Hilda was a later addition. Let us suppose that St Hilda’s name was introduced at one or other of the rebuildings of the Abbey; and let us assume that there was a second formal dedication. This admission does not, perforce, imply our acceptance of the Saint’s Day theory as explaining the discordant alinements. Else we should expect to find many more cases of deflection among the churches with double dedications. Nor, again, does the fact of re-dedication necessarily support the notion that the builder was incapable of setting out a straight line. In short, the solution tendered enforces the very difficulties which it professes to dispel. If it can be clearly shown beyond dispute how the Mediaevalists obtained their axial line, then the theory that the misalinement is the result of re-dedication will have to be faced seriously. Until that time comes, the theory is little more than a fair surmise. As a slight contribution to the inquiry, and as a possible instance of the architect’s incapacity, the case of Leatherhead parish church may be cited. Here the tower is deflected about 3´·6´´ from the axis of the nave, while the nave diverges from the chancel. The church is dedicated to St Mary and St Nicholas, but whether there is further connection between the two facts is uncertain. It was a visit to this church which led Dr J. C. Cox to refer to “symbolic absurdity,” and the “leaning-head” theory as being propounded by “ill-instructed persons.” His own explanation of the divergences is twofold: the “endeavours to obtain the true East at differing periods of the year,” and “the well-known carelessness of Mediaeval builders in following out a true square[581].”