Part 5

In the few examples of early churches which can be quoted as possessing one or two smaller towers, as was probably the case in certain of the important early Ravennese Basilicas, notably in San Vitale, such small towers were not intended for bells, but simply contained staircases.

Viollet le Duc in his long and exhaustive article on “Cloches” especially calls attention to the fact that in the eleventh century Normandy was remarkable for the number and dimensions of its church bells and bell towers; but the famous French writer and scholar does not seem aware of the reason for this marked feature in their churches. They were evidently part of the Lombardic tradition brought into Normandy by the great church builder William of Volpiano, the pupil of the Lombard Comacine architects, the story of whose coming into Normandy at the invitation of Duke Richard le Bon has been related in detail above.

[Illustration: S. VITALE, RAVENNA.

Circa A.D. 526-547.]

ON BELLS

The Bell, however, was not unknown to the Greeks and Romans, but in those far-back times it seems to have been, comparatively speaking, of small dimensions.

Durandus, Bishop of Mende (Mimatensis), Languedoc, thirteenth century--the great liturgical writer of the Middle Ages--in his _Rationale Divinorum Officiorum_, has several pages devoted to the symbolism of bells, much of which is most curious and interesting, though, as usual with this learned writer, often not a little fanciful. For instance, he tells us how he looks on bells as symbols of preachers, who, after the manner of bells, are appointed to remind the faithful of the “Faith.” The clapper, he says, represents the preacher’s tongue, the wooden beam to which the bell is hung typifies the Cross of our Lord.

Durandus considers that the bell was first invented at Nola, a city of Campania, whence came the terms “Campanæ” for the larger bells, and “Nolæ” for the smaller. Various other writers have adopted this curious derivation, amongst others S. Anselm. But this must be considered fanciful.

During the first three centuries, naturally bells would be unused in Christian churches; as we have stated, quiet and privacy of worship being in the ages of persecution, for all assemblies for Christian worship, an indispensable condition.

They were, however, certainly used before the seventh century; there is a tradition that Pope Sabinianus, A.D. 604, directed that a bell shall be rung to give notice of the hours of the “offices.” Bells are alluded to in the Rule of S. Benedict. Bede mentions them in England in the eighth century.

But it was not until the period of the great revival of religion in the eleventh century that the bell began to assume the position of importance in the furniture of a church which we find it occupying in the Middle Ages. The size of the bell gradually increased, and the care bestowed on its casting became greater as the twelfth century advanced.

In the eleventh century we read, for instance, of a bell then remarkable for its size, being presented to the Church of S. Agnan at Orleans by King Robert of France. This bell, probably the largest then known, weighed as much as 2,600 pounds.

As the Middle Ages advanced, the vogue of bells in churches became more pronounced. There were few parish churches but possessed one or two bells, or even more, while the abbeys and cathedrals continued to erect towers to hang bells of various sizes and powers.

In the thirteenth century we find notices of bells of very considerable size and importance. It was not, however, until the fifteenth century that the bell attained to the vast dimensions we are accustomed to associate with the more considerable of these popular and well-loved instruments of music.

Gloucester Cathedral is singularly fortunate in the possession of some very ancient bells of rare sweetness and power; one of these, “Great Peter,” being of considerable size and importance.

This great mediæval bell has now bidden the citizens to prayer for several hundred years.

Various ornaments, usually of a sacred character, were engraved on the mediæval bells. More interesting, though, are the inscriptions, which not unfrequently run round the bell.

The size, however, of the famous Great Peter in Gloucester Cathedral is not comparable with other of the more celebrated bells now in use in various parts of the world--as will be seen from the following table setting forth the enormous weight of many of these great bells.

The largest of these--the Tsar Kolokol of Moscow--said to weigh 440,000 pounds, was never rung. It was broken apparently in the casting--and is now used as a chapel.

Moscow, however, still boasts what probably is the greatest bell in the world; its weight is 128 tons.

Of the other huge bells, we would enumerate--

_Weight._ The bell in the Kioto monastery in Japan 76 tons. The Kaiser bell in the Cathedral of Cologne 25 ” The chief bell in Notre Dame, Paris 17 ” Big Ben in the Parliament Houses, London 13 ” Amiens Cathedral--Its principal bell 11 ” Great Tom, Oxford 7 ”

DATES

A few important approximate dates are given to illustrate this sketch of Romanesque Architecture: The round-arch style. At Ravenna--then among the Lombards--the Rise of the Lombardic-Norman school of Romanesque builders, and the evolution of Gothic architecture.

_circa_ A.D. The {_Diocletian_--Palace at Spalatro 300-305 glory {_Honorius_--Emperor of the West 393-423 of {_Galla Placidia_--(half-sister of Honorius) 408-451 Ravenna {_Theodoric_--the Ostrogothic king of Italy 493-526 {_Justinian_--Emperor of the East 527-565

{_Alboin_--The Lombard Conqueror 568 Lombardy {_Rotharis_--The Lombard King. His code { referring to privileges of Comacine { builders. 636-652

_Charlemagne_--Emperor. His conquest of Lombardy. His Palace-chapel of Aachen 796-804

Pupil of Comacine {_William of Volpiano_--Monk of Cluny. builders { Invited by Duke Richard to Normandy 961-1031

_Lanfranc of Bec_--First Norman archbishop of Canterbury. His works in Normandy and England 1086

Rise and Progress in England of the _Norman-Lombardic_ style

Eleventh century (last part), twelfth century.

The “Coming” and “Rise” of the _Gothic_ style

Roughly in the second part of the twelfth century. Its rapid and general adoption in the thirteenth century.

PASSING OF ROMANESQUE

We only propose to give a very short summary here; all we shall do is to just sketch in a few memoranda which will throw light on the reasons for the extraordinarily rapid transition from Romanesque to Gothic. The early years of the twelfth century witnessed what we have termed the perfected Romanesque style; the closing years of the same twelfth century witnessed “the passing” of Romanesque (the round-arch mode) and the almost universal substitution of a new style, generally known as Gothic.

* * * * *

And first:--the term “Gothic,” now everywhere adopted as the expression for that school of architecture which prevailed throughout the countries of Northern Europe for some four centuries is a curious misnomer.

The term “Gothic,” which was used certainly before the seventeenth century, belongs to the Renaissance period, and was in the first instance, strangely enough, regarded as a term of opprobrium.

Those who invented it were quite clear as to what they intended by the expression. They meant it was something barbarous, because non-classical; some believed it was actually invented by the Goths who overthrew the Roman Empire. Evelyn, for instance, writes, that “the ancient Greek and Roman architecture answered all the perfections required in a faultless and accomplished building, and that the Goths and Vandals demolished these, and introduced in their stead a certain fantastical manner of building, congestions of heavy, dark, melancholy monkish piles, without any just proportion, use or beauty.”[17]

But in time, men came to recognise the glory of what the Renaissance devotees at first scoffed at; but the old term of opprobrium, “Gothic,” remained; and now is universally used to express that splendid school of mediæval architecture which arose out of Romanesque and prevailed for so long a period; the beauty and fitness of which, perhaps somewhat tardily, all the Northern nations have come to recognise with an ungrudging, at times possibly even with an exaggerated admiration.

After all, the leading writers on architecture have come to the conclusion that, different though the Gothic schools are to the Romanesque, they are but one style--_Gothic is simply perfected Romanesque_. “L’architecture Gothique n’est que la perfectionnement de celle qu’on appelle Romane,” wrote Enlart. Gothic, as Mr. Bond expresses it, “has not supplanted Romanesque, but is its supreme result, the last stage in its development, its apogee, consummation and accomplishment.” So, too, De Lasterie defines “Gothic.”

To sum up certain of the new principles of Gothic architecture. The walls of the Gothic buildings became much slighter--thinner; these walls no longer acted as the thrusts which counteracted the weight of the stone vaults which had become gradually more generally used even in Romanesque buildings, but the weight or thrusts of these stone vaults were stopped by buttresses. In other words, Gothic architecture has been with some justice defined as the art of erecting buttressed buildings.

The principal outward and visible sign of Gothic architecture, however, was the _pointed arch_. This novel feature, and much of the ornamentation which was rapidly introduced, no doubt came from the East, and must be referred largely to the influence of the _Crusades_; it was, no doubt, borrowed through acquaintance with Saracenic work in Egypt and Syria. These strange Crusading wars had opened a new world of Art to the Western nations.

The pointed arch was no new feature in the East. As early as A.D. 879 the great Mosque of Tulun had pointed arcades. The principal gateway of the palace of Ctesiphon (fifth century) is pointed. The pointed arch appears in the great aqueduct near Constantinople of the time of Justinian. In many districts in the East it had been for centuries as much the normal form as the round-arch in Europe.

But other outward and visible signs characterised Gothic architecture, which supplanted Romanesque.

Gothic windows became much larger; there was a desire to obtain more light in the churches than had been possible to obtain through the smaller Romanesque windows. These were necessarily small and comparatively inconspicuous for two reasons: the one was, the Romanesque builders trusted, as we have seen, to the vast thickness of their walls to counteract the weight or thrust of the roofs and the upper portions of the buildings, and dreaded any unnecessary weakening of these massive walls by the introduction of large windows.

The other main reason for the smallness of the Romanesque windows was the preciousness and cost of glass in the tenth, the eleventh, and preceding centuries. Glass in the second half of the twelfth century became a much cheaper and less costly material. Then, too, the rapid progress in the art of stained and painted glass in that same century demanded for the display of this new and beautiful art, larger and ever larger windows. The artists in glass painting were no longer content with the small and cramped Romanesque windows, and the general passion for painted glass at once compelled the builders to devise without delay larger spaces in the walls for the display and exercise of the art.

The new large Gothic windows became at once a conspicuous and distinctive feature in the new school. The general introduction of the buttress feature superseded the necessity of depending on the thickness and massiveness of the walls, thus permitting the larger openings that are required for the larger Gothic windows.

* * * * *

The pointed arch brought in its train many novel decorations as well as new constructive features. A new system of mouldings and other ornaments was gradually worked out in the last quarter of the twelfth and even in the earlier years of the thirteenth century.

The massive piers of Romanesque architecture were exchanged for clustered pillars, detached or banded, and crowned with elaborate capitals.

But perhaps one of the most conspicuous changes in the new style was, after all, the beautiful and elaborate tracery which supported and adorned the new windows, ever increasing in size and importance. The old Romanesque windows, small and inconspicuous, were supplanted by the great windows which soon distinguished the new Gothic school, and these windows soon became what is termed traceried windows. The necessary supports of these, known as transoms and mullions, were worked into new and beautiful forms, usually called “Decorated Tracery”; these were divided into geometrical, curvilinear, or flowing tracery, but we avoid in this very short sketch of “Gothic” such technical terms, and simply call attention to certain of the new important features here, which mark the substitution of Gothic for Romanesque form--and term them generally _traceried windows_.

Later, in England, the more elaborate earlier window tracery was abandoned, and the simpler rectilinear tracery was generally adopted, and a new style of Gothic, known as the “Perpendicular,” became the vogue in our Island.

* * * * *

On reading over the above brief notes on Gothic Architecture, the writer, while conscious that the few details above given were, as far as they went, strictly accurate--felt that something more was wanting--if only a few words--which might suggest that there was a deep inner meaning in Gothic architecture. To express this, some reference must be made to France and the great French church builders; for France--especially the “Domaine Royale”--l’Ile de France--was the native country, the original home of the Gothic school.

The early French Gothic masters in the craft looked upon the building of churches as the most serious of arts, and, as it has been well expressed, the churches they planned were to be “the centre of the life of men, and compared with them, man himself and all his worldly affairs was counted as nothing; their purpose was to provide a place of worship, when worship was held to be the highest function of men, and the problem they set themselves to solve was to make a place worthy of the God to be worshipped.”

The same lofty purpose without doubt inspired the Gothic masters in England and other western countries, though their designs somewhat differed from the great French architects on whose methods and planning we are just now dwelling, as presenting in some respects a marked contrast with the methods and planning of the English Gothic architects.

Now, a most prominent characteristic feature of the grand Gothic cathedrals of France was their exceeding height; to attain this no sacrifice was too great. It has been accurately remarked that the matchless sublimity of the interior of a noble French Cathedral was purchased at the sacrifice of the exterior. And the architects, as time went on, made their churches higher and ever higher.

Again, to quote another’s words:[18] “The interior sublimity of a French cathedral seems to be a triumphant defiance of the attraction of gravity. We know that the slender shafts that soar so straight and high, could not support the vault; but _outside_ there is no concealment of the manner in which it is upheld. Indeed the outside, for all its beauty, is _the wrong side_ of a French cathedral, and is, as it were, a mass of permanent scaffolding to keep all the stones of the interior in their places ... and it is, and it looks a complex mass of straining effort, as the interior looks an effortless miracle.” The innumerable flying buttresses carrying the thrust of the lofty vault to the huge buttresses of the aisles, and so to the ground, have been somewhat quaintly termed “walls standing in slices at right angles to the building which they support but do not enclose, seeming to push and thrust with all their power to keep up the enormous height; all this is very wonderful and beautiful, but it leaves a sense of constant effort to overcome difficulties.”

“What a difference is there in the peace of the long low English cathedral with its insignificant buttresses and unambitious lines ... and, except for the upward pointing of its central tower or spire, seemingly content to remain on earth.”[19]

One of the chief beauties of the Choir of Gloucester is its exceptional “soaring” height, which in common with Westminster Abbey and York, follows the example of the great French cathedrals, though at a great distance, it must be confessed, from the lofty height aimed at and attained in such churches as the Cathedrals of Bourges and Chartres, Amiens, Notre Dame of Paris and Beauvais.

Again, each of the sublime interiors of the Gothic cathedrals of France were, as a rule, the design of one mind--and that of a master-mind. They have been roughly but not inaccurately described as “all of a piece,” as the result of one great effort. “These glorious interiors, each possessing a wonderful unity or harmony, the result of a great and original idea conceived and carried out throughout by one individual genius. For most of the mighty cathedrals in France show a closely reasoned design, and the result presents a marvellous temple for worship.

“Very different indeed are the English Gothic cathedrals; we see here no continuous design, no single idea; we are sensible of no one mighty impulse which in France, sweeping ruthlessly away all that had gone before, planned to raise a building complete and harmonious all through.”

For the English builders, on the other hand, preserved all that had gone before, however imperfect in their eyes, and added here, and changed there, content to suffice for the needs and ideas of the present, “with no sign of anxious ambition for the future; incapable of perfection, because began and ended incessantly, and always without continuous design, yet breathing out an indescribable charm of sympathy almost human in its loving reverence for the results of all past human effort.” Gloucester Cathedral is an admirable example of this loving conservative spirit; with its massive _Romanesque_ Nave, its “_decorated_” South Aisle, its superb aery _Perpendicular_ Choir, partly veiling, it is true, but not destroying the work of bygone Norman builders; its graceful and exquisite Perpendicular Lady Chapel--the last addition to this great pile--being perfectly different to any other part of the cathedral.

* * * * *

The Gothic builders of France believed, that in raising the interior of their cathedrals to that wonderful height on which successive generations have gazed with awe and admiration, they had found something of the secret of inspiring the worshippers with the feeling that they were indeed worshipping in a Holy House almost worthy of the God they sought; nor were they content with their earlier noble efforts, but kept making their soaring churches, as they built them, higher and ever higher.

The climax of this strain and restless striving was reached in the middle of the thirteenth century, when Eudes de Montreuil, the architect of S. Louis, designed the “splendid folly,” as men love to style it, of Beauvais; there a choir was built higher than any in the world, and with the slenderest support that had ever yet been seen.

It was finished in about thirty years, and twelve years later the vault fell, making a ruin of the whole church, _circa_ A.D. 1284. This superb choir--for the nave was never built--can still be seen and wondered at; the ruin has been skilfully and cleverly repaired, and new supports have been devised, and though the original design is sadly marred and altered, it tells us of that master-mind “who, greatly daring, had planned the mighty structure complete and harmonious, the absolute expression of an ideal of future perfection, but forced to remain incomplete at the last, for the architect longed for the impossible.”

True artist, in spite of his failure, for he aimed at expressing a something higher than himself, which should draw up in sympathy with him all that was best and noblest in those around him. “But Beauvais was a structural impossibility, and the ideal of Beauvais was beyond his reach, and the mighty remains of its solitary choir tells a story of mistaken enterprise and wasted heroism.” It is truly a dream of heaven--but alas! it is only a dream.

THE TRIFORIUM

The question is often asked by a stranger, as he wanders through an English cathedral, wondering at the size and striking appearance of the great Triforium or Gallery--for instance, the immense Triforium in the Choir of Gloucester. What is the meaning and use of this vast gallery? Has it any story or tradition attached to it?

The derivation of the word Triforium is uncertain. The date of the word is unknown, it is not of great antiquity, but probably belongs to the mediæval period. That the Triforium of the great Anglo-Norman piles was used in pre-Reformation times in the ritual of the Church apparently for processions and the like, is clear from the several chapels which lead out of it, and from the easy access to it by fairly broad staircases on either side.

But such an occasional use is not by any means sufficient to account for the presence of so important an adjunct in the planning of the church.

Now what is the true story of its existence in so many of our great churches?

And first, as to the derivation and meaning of the word “Triforium.” Some scholars think it can be traced to the post-classical term “transforare,” to pierce through. Here, for instance, it is said to have pierced through the wall. “Opus triforiatum” was applied to perforated work of various kinds, such as in lock plates, etc.

It is, however, something more than a passage in the thickness of the wall which the above derivation, if it be adopted, would seem to suggest. But it has a history which is very generally unknown.

The true secret of the Triforium is as follows: Far back in the annals of Christianity we know that generally in the churches built by Justinian in the sixth century in Constantinople, Thessalonica, and in other populous centres, a large and separate place was arranged for the women worshippers. In important churches such as the Church of the Holy Apostles and the Basilica of S. Sophia at Constantinople, a great gallery was constructed, exclusively for women; this gallery was reached by stairs leading from the narthex (the narthex was a long porch or ante-church, extending all across the west front). Where there was no narthex, or gallery, the women were still separated; they then sat on one side of the nave and the men on the other. The women’s gallery was usually known as the gynæconitis or matronium. It can be seen still, a very prominent object in the desecrated Mosque of S. Sophia. This women’s gallery, so universal and so important a feature in the greater churches of the East, became in time the Triforium, so marked an arrangement in the Norman-Romanesque churches of England.[20]

The women’s gallery in its original purpose belonged exclusively to the East, where the sexes were separated.

In the West, no such custom prevailed. In the West, as a rule, there was no separation of the sexes. The custom of the Latin Church adopted no such separation.

This fact is curiously confirmed in the planning of the churches of the West; no women’s gallery, or Triforium (to use the later coined word), save perhaps occasionally in a very diminutive form, appears in the abbeys and churches of Aquitaine, Provence, or Auvergne. The same may be said generally of the churches in all the southern and central provinces of Gaul (France).

Of these Western churches, where as a rule we rarely find an important “Triforium,” a notable exception may be quoted in the celebrated Palace-chapel of Aix-la-Chapelle, now the cathedral. But this was erected by Charlemagne and largely designed after S. Vitale at Ravenna, a church in great part modelled under Byzantine influences.

A still more notable exception is the vast Cathedral of Tournai with its Romanesque Nave. It has the very large Triforium of the Norman-Romanesque churches; and above it, again, there is a little gallery.