The ornamented arch in the eastern window, so long the admiration of travellers, has mouldered away. But the Norman arch, already noticed, between the choir and the south aisle, is a bold and characteristic feature that points very distinctly to the twelfth century. The walls of the north aisle are wholly dilapidated; but the outside wall of the south aisle, as observed, is the most entire. Of this the windows are Norman, lofty and finely proportioned. “The western side is considered by all connoisseurs to be the most elegant; the northern, the most entire; the southern, the most picturesque; and the eastern, the most magnificent.” Taken altogether, the remains of this Abbey present a coup d’œil that will bear comparison with many of far higher name. It unites the sublime and the picturesque in a more than ordinary measure, while the general effect is greatly enhanced by the natural solitude of the place.
On the south of the remaining transept is a neat Gothic chapel, with an engroined roof, in tolerable preservation. It measures twenty-two feet in length, by ten and a half in breadth; and on the south of this chapel are the remains of an oblong room, supposed to have been the Chapter-house, or more probably the Vestiary. The other offices—the Refectory, Hospitium, Dormitory, and Cloisters—may be easily traced by an experienced antiquary; but, to a common observer, their respective boundaries are indistinct. In a barn, westward of the ruins, is a fine arch, supposed to have formed the grand entrance to the Abbey. But now—
Stone after stone the hallowed temple falls,
Fierce lightnings scathe, and torrents sap the walls;
No mantling ivy round the ruin weaves
Its verdant panoply of glittering leaves;
No pious hand, with patriotic care,
Props in its fall the ancient house of Prayer;
But still yon Arch, that braves the winter blast,
Stands the proud chronicler of ages past.
On the architecture of this period, we may here introduce a few desultory remarks, without entering into any disquisition on the subject.
The most remarkable works of architecture,[339] as opposed to that of the feudal strongholds, are the religious edifices erected about this period, and improved during the three following centuries. These structures uniting, as in the present instance, sublimity in general composition with the beauties of variety and form—intricacy of parts—skilful, or at least fortunate, effects of light and shade—and, in some instances, with extraordinary mechanical science, are naturally apt to lead those antiquaries, who are most conversant with them, into too partial estimates of the times wherein they were founded. They certainly are accustomed to behold the fairest side of the picture. It was the favourite and most honourable employment of ecclesiastical wealth, to erect, to enlarge, to repair cathedral and conventual churches; and upon these buildings in England, between the Norman Conquest and the Reformation, an immense capital must have been expended. And it is pleasing to observe how the seeds of genius, hidden, as it were, under the frost of that dreary winter, began to bud to the first sunshine of encouragement.
In the darkest period of the middle ages, especially after the Scandinavian incursions into France and England, ecclesiastical architecture, though always far more advanced than any other art, bespoke the rudeness and poverty of the times. It began towards the latter end of the eleventh century, when tranquillity, at least as to former enemies, was restored, and some degree of learning reappeared to assume a more noble appearance.
The Anglo-Norman cathedrals were, perhaps, as much distinguished above other works of man in their own age, as the more splendid edifices of a later period. The science manifested in them, according to the authority here quoted, is not very great; and their style, though by no means destitute of lesser beauties, is, upon the whole, an awkward imitation of Roman architecture, or, perhaps, more immediately of the Saracenic buildings of Spain, and those of the lower Greek Empire.[340] But about the middle of the twelfth century, when Llanthony, Tinterne, and so many remarkable edifices sprang up, this manner began to give place to what is improperly denominated the Gothic architecture. We are not concerned at present to inquire whether this style originated in France or Germany, Italy or England, since it was almost simultaneous in all these countries; nor from what source it was derived—a question of no small difficulty. I would only venture to remark, that whatever may be thought of the pointed arch, for which there is more than one mode of accounting, we must perceive a very oriental character in the vast profusion of ornament, especially on the exterior surface, which is as distinguishing a mark of Gothic buildings as their arches; and contributes, in an eminent degree, both to their beauties and their defects. This, indeed, is rather applicable to the later than the earlier stage of architecture; and rather to Continental than English churches. The Cathedral at Amiens is in a far more florid style than its contemporary at Salisbury. The Gothic species of architecture is thought by some to have reached its perfection—considered as an object of taste—by the middle of the fourteenth century; or at least to have lost something of its excellence by the corresponding part of the next age—an effect of its early and rapid cultivation; since arts appear to have, like individuals, their natural progress and decay. Yet this seems, if true at all, only applicable to England; since the Cathedrals of Cologne and Milan—perhaps the most distinguished monuments of this architecture—are both of the fifteenth century. The mechanical execution, at least, continued to improve; and is so far beyond the apparent intellectual powers of those times, that some have ascribed the principal ecclesiastical structures to the fraternity of Freemasons—depositaries of a concealed and traditionary science. There is probably some ground for this opinion; and the earlier archives of that mysterious association, if they existed, might illustrate the progress of Gothic architecture, and perhaps reveal its origin. The remarkable change in this new style, that was almost contemporaneous in every part of Europe, cannot be explained by any local circumstances, or the capricious taste of a single nation.[341]
“The Normans,” says “William of Malmesbury, “live in large edifices with economy. They revived by their arrival the observances of religion, which were everywhere grown lifeless in England. You might now see churches rise up in every village, and monasteries in the towns and cities—all built after a style previously unknown in this country.” It was soon after the renovation and introduction here mentioned, that the Abbey of Llanthony—though one of the smallest and least known of its class—sprang up in the desert, as a signal to many others, on a more extended and noble scale that quickly followed, and stamped their architectural character upon the age. It was most probably finished before the middle of the twelfth century—so prolific in ecclesiastical edifices. The style is of that period—designated as the transition from late Norman to early English, where the predominant features are Gothic—characterized by the pointed arch; by pillars which are so extended as to lose all trace of classical proportions; by shafts which are placed side by side, often with different thicknesses, and are variously clustered and combined.[342]
This style is divided into three distinct periods—besides that of transition between the circular and pointed styles—which lasted through the greater part of the twelfth century, when the circular and pointed arches are frequently—as in the nave and south transept before us—used indiscriminately in the same building. The ornaments, although generally partaking of the earlier style, begin to be better executed, and more elaborate; and the general appearance of the building assumes a lighter character. The first style of Gothic in this country, The Early English, prevailed through the greater part of the twelfth century; and of this style the subject in question is one of the numerous examples that followed its introduction in every part of the kingdom. Among these the variations, in all save dimensions, are so slight and unimportant, that the description of almost any one monastic structure of that century applies to every other of the same style and period. We possess in the ruins of Llanthony a pure example of this style, unchanged by any subsequent additions or alterations; for as the Abbey became reduced both in numbers and revenues, immediately after the establishment of the Abbey at Gloucester, it shared in none of the changes introduced by the decorated style; but has continued to the present day what it was in the middle of the twelfth century. To account for the splendour of conventual churches in general, we have only to remember that personal expense or secular indulgence were highly culpable in a monk; and that whatever was expended in ornamenting the Church was glorifying God.