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By JA]\rES FERGUSSOX, D.C.L.. F.R.S., &c. 

St. George's Hall, Liverpool. 

By ROBERT KEIJK, Architect, F.R.I.B.A.; 




DODD, MEAD & COMPANY, Publisuers. 





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latroduetiou 1 

I. — Transition Style 8 

II.— Renaissance. Inigo Jones — Wren 20 

III. — Eighteenth Century 53 

IV, — Classical Revival . 70 

V. — Gothic Revival 96 

VI. — Recent Architecture. Tlie Epocli of 1851 —The International Esliibi- 
tinn — Archit' ctural Work in 1851 — Tlie Crystal Palace; Digby 
Wyatt; Pugin — Effee-t upon Architecture — Urauglitsmanship — Pro- 
gr^'SS from 1851 to the D.ath of the Prince Consort — Progress, 1860 to 

1870— 1870 to 1880— Since 1880— Illustiations 121 

VII. — British Colonial Architecture. Canada — Australia and New Zealand 170 


Introduction 178 

I.— Renaissance. Ecclesiastical — Secular 180 

II.— Revival. Ecclesia^tical, Munich — Walhalla — Secular, Munich — Berlin 

— Dresden — Vienna — Berne 101 

III. — Recent Architecture 220 


I.-Belgium 229 

II.— Holland 235 

III.— Denmark 237 

IV. HaMBI RGH 240 

V. — Sweden AND Norway 242 

VI. — Recent Architecture 245 


Introduction 249 

I. — Eccle.siastical 253 

II— Secular 267 

III.— Revival , 275 

IV. — Recent Architecture .. .. 282 

VOL. II. I) 




India — Introduction . . 284 

I. — The Portuguese 2S6 

II. — The Spaniards, Dm CH, AND French 289 

III.— The English 292 

IV. — Native Architecture 300 

V. — Eecent Architecture 307 


I.— Mosques 310 

II. — Palaces 316 


I.— Mexico 320 

II.— Peru 324 

III. — North America 327 

IV.— Washington 330 

V. — Philadelphia, &c 338 

I^^VI. — Ecclesiastical 340 

/ VII. — Recent Architecture in the United States. Apology — Epoch of 

^'^ 1851 — After the Wiir — Importation of European Styles — Timber-work 

ami Iron — Professional Guild nnd Journalism — Philistinism — Style — 

Richardson — Ecclesiastical Desi,2:n — Secular Gothic — Ordinary 

Classic— Domestic — Notes — Tl:e Future 343 


Introduction — Construction of Modern Theatres — Lyric Theatres — 
Dramatic Theatres — Music Halls — Recent Theatres 375 


Bridges and Railway Stations — Architectural Engineering — Ferro- 
Vitreous Art— Military Engineering 409 


DRALS 432 ! 

INDEX 439 


Victoria Tower (^Frontispiece). 

154. Gate of Honour, Caius College, 

Cambridge 10 

155. Court of Clare College .. .. 11 

156. Plan of Longleat House .. .. 12 

157. Elevation of part of Longleat .. 13 

158. View of WoUaton House .. .. 14 

159. Gateway of Heriot's Hospital .. 17 

160. Window-head Ornament .. .. 18 

161. Pilaster Ornaments 18 

162. Block Plan of Inigo Jones's De- 

sign for the Palace at White- 
hall 21 

16 \ Diagram of Inigo Jones's Design 
for the Palace at Whitehall, 
Westminster Front 22 

164. Diagram of Fliver Front of Inigo 

Jones's Design for the Palace 

at Whitehall 22 

165. Banqueting House, Whitehall .. 24 

166. East Elevation of St. Paul's, Co- 

vent Garden 25 

167. Plan of Villa at Chiswick .. 26 

168. Elevation of Villa at Chiswick . . 27 

169. Fai,'ade of Wilton House, Wilt- 

shire 27 

170. El^'ation of the House of Ames- 

bury, Wiltshire 29 

171. Plan of St. Paul's Cathedral, as 

origin;illy designed by Sir 
Christopher Wren 31 

172. Side Elevation of St. Paul's 

Cathedral, as shown in the 
model of the first design .. 32 
173 Diagram showing two modes by 
which the hollow curves of 
Wren's first design might be 
remedied 34 

174. Plan of St. Paul's Cathedral .. 36 

175. Half Section, half Elevation of 

the Dome of St. Paul's Cathe- 
dral 37 

176. West View of St. Paul's Cathe- 

dral 41 


177. Steeple of Bow Church .. .. 46 

178. Plan of St. Stephen's, Walbrook 47 

179. Section of the Interior of St. 

Stephen's, Walbrook .. .. 47 

180. View of the Interiorof St. James's 

Piccadilly 48 

181. Neville's Court, and Library, Tri- 

nity College, Cambridge .. 51 

182. Plan of Blenheim Palace .. .. 55 

183. Lesser Garden Front, Blenheim 56 

184. Elevation of Park Front of Castle 

Howard 57 

185. Front Elevation of Wanstead 

House 58 

186. The North Front of the Treasury 

Buildings, as designed by Kent 59 

187. Interior View of St. Martin's-in- 

the-Fields 60 

188. Diagram showing the effect of 

reversing the entablature in a 
pillar 61 

189. Radclifte Library, 0.i;ford .. .. 62 

190. Southern Fa9ade of the Northern 

portion of Somerset House .. 63 

191. View of the principal Fa9ade of 

the College, Edinburgh .. ., 65 

192. Ground Plan of Keddlestoue Hall 68 

193. Portion of the Garden Front of 

Keddlestone Hall 67 

194. Facade of Holkham House .. 68 

195. Front Elevation of Newgate .. 69 

196. West Elevation of St. Pancras 

New Church 74 

197. East Elevation of the Bank of 

England 75 

198. Portico of the London University 

Buildings, Gower Street.. .. 77 

199. Plan of the Portico of the British 

Museum 78 

200. Facade of the British Museum .. 79 

201. Front View of the Fitzwilliam 

Museum, Cambridge .. .. 80 

202. Plan of St. George's Hall, Liver- 

pool 82 

I 2 



203. View of St. George's Hall, Liver- 

pool 83 

204. Grange House, Hampshire .. 84 

205. View of the New High School, 

Edinburgh 85 

206. New Building for the London 

University, Burlington Gardens 86 

207. Taylor and Randolph Institute, 

Oxford 87 

208. Fa9ade .if the College of Sur- 

geons, Lincoln's-Inn-Fields .. 88 

209. Southern Facade of Travellers' 

Club House 89 

210. Northern Fa9ade of Reform Club 90 

211. Park Front of Bridge water House 91 

212. Clumber Park, as proposed to be 

remodelled by Sir C. Barry . . 93 

213. Town Hall, Halifax 95 

214. View of Fonthill Abbey, as it was 

in 1822 .. .. ." 98 

215. West Front of St. Luke's, Chelsea 106 

216. Plan of Parliament Houses, West- 

minster 108 

217. River Front of the Parliament 

Houses 109 

218. Section of Central Octagon, 

Parliament Houses 112 

219. New Museum at Oxford .. ..113 
219a. All Saints' Church, London .. 135 

11%. St. Vincent's, Cork 1:8 

219c. Fcttes College, Edinburgh .. 140 
219c?. Manchester Toil n Hall .. .. 141 
219e. St. Mary's, Edinburgh .. ..143 
219/. Town ffa'l. Congleton .. ..146 

219^7. Bank, Birkenhead 147 

219/t. I7ie Lw Courts, London, North 

Entrance 148 

219i. Bristol Cathedral Porch .. ..149 
219^. Chimne II - piece in Burges's 

Hon se, Kensington 150 

219^. Lowther Lodge, Kensington .. 152 
219An. Jliuse at Hanington Gardens, 

LCensingfon 153 

219/1. Church of the Hog Innocents at 

Hammersmith 155 

219o. St. Mary's, Portsea 156 

219/). The Schools. Oxford .. ..157 

219'/. The Albert Memorial .. .. 162 

219r Warehousr, Glasijow 169 

219s. McGill University, Montreal .. 171 
219f. Parliamentary Library, Ottawa 172 
219«. The Houses of Parliament, Mel- 
bourne 173 

219x. Catholic Cathedral, Melbourne 174 

219^. Houses of Parliament Sydney . . 175 

219«. Dalton's Warehouse, Sydney .. 176 

220. Plan of St. Michael's Church, 

Munich 180 

Ni>. PAOB 

221. Section of St. Michael's Church, 

Munich 180 

222. Plan of the Liebfraueu-Kirche, 

Dresden 181 

223. View of the Liebfrauen-Kirche, 

Dresden 182 

224. Plan of the Church of San Carlo 

Borromeo 183 

225. Church and Theatre in the Gens- 

d'Armes Platz, Berlin .. ..184 

226. Porch of Rathhaus, Cologne .. 186 

227. Part of the Zwinger Palace, 

Dresden 187 

228. Japanese Palace, Dresden . . .. 188 

229. Brandenburg Gate, Berlin .. 189 

230. Exterior View of the Basilica at 

Munich ,. 194 

231. Plan of Walhalla 196 

232. Ruhmeshalle, near Munich .. 197 

233. Glyptothek, Munich 197 

234. Plin of Pinacothek, Munich .. 198 

235. Half Section, half Elevation of 

Pinacothek, Munich .. ..199 

236. Part of the Facade of the Public 

Library, Munich 200 

237. Nicholai-Kirche, Potsdam .. 202 

238. Plan of the Museums at Berlin 204 

239. View of the Museum, Berlin .. 205 

240. Part of the Fa9ade of the Build- 

ing School at Berlin .. .. 207 

241. Group of Houses facing the Thier- 

garten, Berlin 209 

242. Palace of Count Pourtales, Ber- 

lin 209 

243. House at Dantzig 210 

244. Plan of the Votif-Kirche on the 

glacis at Vienna 213 

245. View of the Synagogue at Pesth 214 

246. German Spire at Prague .. .. 216 

247. German Spire at Kuttenburg .. 216 

248. Federal Palace at Berne .. ..218 
248a. Street Architecture, Vienna .. 222 
2486. Dwelling House, Berlin .. .. 223 
248c. Parliament Hou^r. Berlin . . 224 
248c?. The Votive Church, ]'ienna .. 225 
248e. The Tou-n Ha'l. Vienna .. ..226 
248/. The National Academy, Athen-^ 227 

249. Front Elevation of Town Hall, 

Antwerp 232 

250. View of St. Anne, Bruges . . . . 233 

251. Front Elevation of Town Hall, 

Amsterdam 235 

252. View of the Exchange, Copen- 

hagen 237 

253. Castle of Fredericksborg . . . . 238 

254. Plan of Palace at Stockholm .. 243 

255. View of Palace at Stockholm .. 244 
255a. Palais de Justice, Brussels . . 246 



2556. Ck'irch at Eindhoven 247 

■.^55c. University at Lund 248 

256. Church in the Citadel, St. Peters- 

burgh 254 

257. Elevation of Smoluoy Monastery, 

.St. Petersburgh ' . . . . " . 256 

258. Plan of the Church of St. Nicho- 

las, St. Peteisburgh . . . . 257 

259. Plan of the Church of Our Lady 

of Kasan, St. Petersburgh . . 258 

260. Half Sectbm, half Elevation of 

the Church called du Kite 
Grec, St. Petersburgh . . . . 259 

261. Plan of St. Isaac's Church, St. 

Petersburgh 261 

262. North-East View of St. Isaac's, 

St. Petersburgh 262 

263. Half .Section of the Dome of St. 

Isaac's, St. Petersburgh.. .. 264 

264. Portion of the Facade of the 

Winter Palace, St. Petersburgh 268 

265. Plan of the Central Block of the 

Palace of the Grand Duke Mi- 
chael, St. Petersburgh . . . . 269 

266. Elevation, Garden Front of the 

Palace of the Grand Duke Mi- 
chael ..270 

267. Portion of the lateral Facade of 

the Admiralty, St. Petersburgh 271 

268. Plan of the Kew Museum at St. 

Petei-sburgh 276 

269. Pseudo-Arched Window, Museum 

at St. Petersburgh 277 

270. Elevation of a portion of the 

River Front, New Museum, St. 
Petersburgh 277 

271. View of the New Russian Church, 

Paris 279 

272. Dutch Tombs, Surat 290 

273. Exterior View of the Cathedral 

at Calcutta 294 

274. Interior View of the Cathedral 

at Calcutta 295 

275. View of the Martinifere, Luck- 

now 302 

276. Begum Kotie, Lucknow .. .. 304 
276a. University at Allah ihcvl .. .. 306 

2766. Palace at Baroda 307 

276c. Cmnimj College, Lucknoo .. 309 

277. Mosque of SeHm, Scutari .. .. 312 

278. Mosque in Citadel at Cairo .. 314 

279. Palace on the Bosphorus .. .. 317 

280. View of the Sultan's New Palace 

at Constantinople 318 

281. External View of the Cathedral 

at Mexico 321 

282. View of Side Aisle in theCithe- 

dral at Mexico 322 

283. Arequipa Cathedral 325 

2S4. Plan of the original Cajdtol at 

Washington 331 

285. Plan of the Capitol at Washing- 

ton as it will be wlien com- 
pleted 332 

286. Half Elevation, Half Section of 

the Capitol at Washington .. 333 

287. View of the Capitol at Washing- 

ton, as it now is 335 

288. Tower of Smithsonian Institute, 

Washington 336 

289. New Treasury Buildings, Wash- 

ington 337 

290. Girard College, Philadelphia .. 338 

291. State Capitol, Ohio 339 

292. View of Grace Church, New 

York 341 

292a. Trinity Church, Ne'c Turk .. ."^o 

2926. Glencltalet 352 

292(;. Iron Front, New York .. .. 354 
2y2d Trinity Church, Boston .. ..359 
292e. Winn Memorial Libran/ .. .. 360 
292/. E. C Cathedral. New York . . 362 
292j St. James's Church, New Y„rk 363 
292/t. A.ethodist Chwch, New Fork 364 
2y2j. Cnurch at Ann-Arhor, Michiij'in 365 
2 92^. Ames Building, Boston .. .. 368 
292/. House at Los Angeles, Cali- 
fornia 369 

293 to 'J 98. Diagrams of Theatrical 

Arrangements . . . . 380 to 385 

299. Plan of La Scala, Milan .. ..388 

300. Fa9ade of La Scala, Milan .. 388 

301. Section of the Auditory of La 

Scala, Milan 389 

302. Plan of Acade'mie de Musique, 

Paris 391 

303. Section of Academie de Musique, 

Paris 391 

304. Plan of the New Opera House, 

Paris 392 

305. View of the New Opera House, 

Paris 393 

306. Plan of Old Opera House, Vienna 394 

307. Plan of the Theatre at Bordeaux 395 

308. Principal Facade of the Theatre 

at bordeaux 395 

309. Section of the Auditory of the 

Theatre at Bordeaux .. .. 396 

310. Plan of Theatre at Lyons, as 

originally constructed .. .. 397 

311. Plan of Theatre Historique, Paris 397 
31-'. Plan of Theatre at Versailles .. 398 

313. Section of Theatre at Versailles 398 

314. Plan of Drury Lane Theatre .. 399 

315. Plan of Theatre at Mayence .. 400 

316. Sec'ion of Theatre Pt Mayence .. 400 

317. Victoria Theatre, Berlin .. .. 402 



318. View of the Summer Auditory 

of the Victoria Theatre, Berlin 403 

319. Plan of Schinkel's Theatre, Ber- 

lin 404 

32). Diagram of Music Hall .. .. 407 

321. Fa9acle of New Opera House, Paris 407 

322. Dee Bridge at Chester .. .. 411 

323. Interior of the Station at King's 

Cross 414 

324. Exterior View of the Station at 

King's Cross 415 

325. Fa(;ade of Strasburg Railway 

Station, Paris 416 


326. Fafade of Station, Newcastle, 

with intended portico .. .. 417 

527. Gateway at Castello del Lido, 

Venice 424 

328. Central Compartment of the Gra- 

nary at Modlin 425 

329. Diagram showing the whole of 

the Fa9ade of the Granary at 
Modlin " .. 425 

330. Diagram Plan of Latin Cathedral 

arrangements 434 

331. Diagram Section of Latin Cathe- 

dral arrangements 435 






To write a consecutive history of the Eenaissance styles in Great 
Britain is perhaps more difficult than it is with regard to those of 
any other country of Europe. Not because the examples are few or 
far between, nor because they have not been examined with care or 
published in detail ; but on account of the devious and uncertain path 
their architects have followed, and the general absence of any fixed 
principles to guide them in their design, or any certain aim to which 
they were persistently striving to attain. The difficulty is fiu'ther 
aggra\'ated at present by the architectural world being divided into 
two hostile camps — the Classical and the Mediaeval — following two 
entirely different systems of design and actuated by antagonistic 
principles. It becomes in consequence difficult to write calmly and 
dispassionately in the midst of the clamour of contending parties, and 
not to be huiTied into opposition by the unreasoning theories that are 
propounded on both sides. 

The steps by which the English were induced to adopt the 
Classical styles were slower and more uncertain than those which 
preceded its introduction into the other countries of western Europe. 
They clung longer to their Gothic feelings, and submitted to the 
trannnels of Classical Art far more unwillingly than their neighbours. 
It is, in fact, almost literally true that Inigo Jones^ was the earliest 
really Classical architect in England, and he was born the year before 
Vignola died, and was only three years old when Palladio finished his 

» Bom 1572; died 1652. 


career. The foundations of St. Peter's were laid a full century before 
we had a Classical building of any kind in this country ; and the 
Escurial and the Tuileries had been long inhabited l)efore we thought 
it necessary to try to rival them. 

The teaching, however, of Classical literature in our schools, and 
the example of the Continent, at last took effect. And when once an 
architect presented himself capable of producing designs in the new 
style, and exhibiting specimens in all their fashionable proportions, 
it became the rage with us, as it was on the Continent ; and our 
ancestors out-Heroded Herod in the strict classicality of tlieir useless 
porticoes and the purity with which they used the Orders, wholly 
irrespective either of climate or situation : all this being only too sure 
a proof how little true feeling they at that time had for Art, and how 
completely they had lost the knowledge of the first principles that 
ought to guide an architect in the preparation of his designs. 

In England, as in all other countries of modern Europe, the arts 
followed in the same track as literature, only that here they lagged more 
behind, and Classical forms and feelings are found in all our literary 
productions long before their influence was felt in Art. "When once, 
however, Architecture fell fairly into the trap, she became more 
enslaved to the rules of the dead art than literature ever was, and 
has hitherto found it impossil)le to recover her liberty, while her now 
emancipated sister roams at large exulting in her freedom. Still, it 
is impossible to read such a poem as Spenser's ' Faery Queen,' and not 
to see that it is the expression of exactly the same feelings as those 
which dictated .such designs as Audley End or Wollaton. The one 
is a Christian Romance of the Middle Ages, interlarded witli Classical 
names and ill-understood allusions to heathen gods and goddesses — 
the others are Gothic palaces, plastered over with Corinthian pilasters 
and details which represent the extent of knowledge to which men of 
taste had then reached in realising the greatness of Eoman Art. 

It would be difficult to find two works of Art designed more 
essentially on the same principles than Milton's ' Paradise Lost ' and 
Wren's St. Paul's Cathedral. The Bible narrative, transposed into 
the form of a Greek epic, reijuired the genius of a Milton to make it 
tolerable ; but the splendour of even his powers does not make us less 
regret that he had not poured forth the poetry with which his heart 
was swelling in some form that would have freed him from the 
trammels which the pedantry of his age imposed upon him. What 
the Iliad and the iEneid were to Milton, the Pantheon and the Temple 
of Peace were to Wren. It was necessary he should try to conceal 
his Christian church in the guise of a Roman temple. Still the idea 
of the Christian cathedral is always present, and reappears in every 
form, but so, too, does that of the Heathen temple ; — two conflicting 
elements in contact, — neither subduing the other, but making their 


discord so apparent as to destroy to a very coiisidei'able extent the' 
beauty either would possess if separate. 

The sonorous prose of Johnson finds its exact counterpait in the 
ponderous productions of Vanl)rugli, and the elegant Addison finds 
his reflex in the correct taraeness of Chambers. The Adamses tried 
to reproduce what they thought was purely Classical Art, with the 
earnest faith with which Thomson believed he Avas reproducing 
Virgirs Georgics when he wrote the ' Seasons.' But here our parallel 
ends. The poets had exhausted evevj form of imitation, and longed 
for " fresh fields and pastures new," and in the beginning of this 
century wholly freed themseh'es from the chains their predecessors 
had prided themselves in wearing ; but, just when the architects 
might have done the same, Stuart practically discovered and reveale4 
to his countrymen the beauties of Greek Art. Homer and Sophocles 
had long been familiar to us ; — the Parthenon and the Temple on the 
Ilissus were new. The poets had had the distemper ; the architects 
had still to pass through it ; and for fifty long years the pillars of 
the Parthenon or the Ilissian Temple adorned churches and gaols, 
nmseums and magazines, shop fronts and city gates — everything and 
everywhere. At l;;st a reaction set in against this al;)surdity ; not, 
alas ! towards freedom, but towards a bondage as deep, if not so 
degrading, as that from which the enslaved minds of the public had 
just l)een emancipated. If the Greek was incongruous, it was at least 
elegant and refined. The Gothic, though so beautiful in itself, is 
hardly more in accordance with the feelings and tastes of the nine- 
teenth century, and is entirely deficient in that purity and in the 
higher elements of the Art to which the Greeks had attained, and to 
which we were fast approaching when the flood-tide of i)seudo- 
Mediffival Art set in and overwhelmed us. 

At the same time, however, we must not overlook the fact that the 
Gothic revival in this country is mainly an ecclesiastical mo\'ement, 
and the real hold it has upon the people arises from their religious, 
not from their artistic feelings, and must be judged of accordingly. 
The four centuries which elapsed between the Crusades and the 
Reformation were not only the period of the Church's greatest ascend- 
ency and glory, but they were those during which the Gothic style 
was iuxented and prevailed. All of our cathedrals but one, and nine- 
tenths of our churches in towns, ninety-nine in a hundred in country 
parishes, are in this style. The clergy, no doulit, look back with 
regret to those halcyon days when their power was supreme and 
undisputed, and, while longing to bring them back again, are justified 
hi pleading that the style in Avhich those churches were Iniilt, in 
which our forefathers prayed, and which are associated with all our 
own religious feelings, is that style in which' all ecclesiastical edifices, 
at least, should still be erected. If the Church of the present day is 

B 2 


the same as that of the thirteenth century, they are right. But if the 
world has proo-ressed since then, it is dann-erous that the Church 
should lag- so long l)ehind, and nearly certain that the laity will not 
long be content with so retrograde a movement. Should this prove to 
be the case, the result will be that we shall have two antagonistic 
styles of Art in this country : one ecclesiastical and retrograde, the 
other lay and progressive, and a conflict may arise which must confuse 
all true principles of Art and prove fatal to any proper development 
of either style. 

The truth is, it requires very little knowledge of Art to know 
that both Classic and Gothic imitations must be wrong ; — that any 
Art which is essentially false in its principles, and which depends on 
mere copying and not on thought for its effect, must be an absurdity. 
But the public do not see this, and the instance of literature docs not 
appear to them quite a logical parallel. Nor is it ; — for with us a 
.poem is a plaything. It does not cost more to print one moulded on 
the Greek Epos than it does one modelled after Dante, or one which 
is merely the outpouring of a heart too full to contain its imaginings. 
No one need buy unless they like it, and many live and die without 
gi\-ing the subject a serious thought, or caring for literature at all, 
excepting at the utmost as the amusement of a passing hour. But 
the case is widely different when we come to an art, the productions 
of which are not only ornamental, but useful at the same time, and 
indeed indispensable to our existence, in this climate at least. From 
the highest to the lowest all men must spend money in the production 
of Architectural Art. Our comfort and our convenience are affected 
by it every day of our lives ; our health, and not infrequently our 
wealth, is at the mercy of the architect. Though we could tolerate 
and be amused with a poem which is an almost undetectable forgery, 
we cannot live in a temple or a cathedral, and the gloom of a feudal 
castle and the arfangements of a monastery are equally foreign to our 
taste. It is, no doubt, easier to employ a clerk to copy details out of 
books than to set oneself to invent them ; and it is a great relief to 
timid minds to be able to shelter themselves under the shield of 
authority ; but laziness or timidity is not the quality that ever pro- 
duced anytliing great or good in Art ; and tiU men are prepared to 
work and think for themselves, the study of Architecture in England, 
though it may be interesting as a psychological or historical problem, 
can never rise to the dignity of an illustration of that noble art. 

Only one other point requires to be noticed before going into 
detail on English Renaissance Art. It was hinted in the Introduction 
to this volume that, during the period of the Renaissance, Architecture 
ceased to be a study among the upper classes, and generally became the 
occupation of a very small, and frequently a lower and less educated, 


class of men than those who occupied themselves with literature. This 
is, perhaps, more strictly applicable to England than to any other 
country. Not to be a scholar to a greater or less extent has always 
been a reproach to an English gentleman. To be an artist, on the 
other hand, is to be eccentric and exceptional among the upper classes ; 
and proficiency in Art is almost as great a reproach to a gentleman as 
deficiency in literary knowledge is and always has been. 

This was more or less the case with all the nations of the Continent, 
but was more apparent in England than elsewhere. It has been 
remarked aliove that, during the Middle Ages, not only the nobility 
and gentry occupied themselves with Art, but that the bishops, and 
all classes of the clergy, from the highest to the lowest, looked upon 
Architecture as the master art, and considered a knowledge of it as 
being as indispensable to an educated gentleman as a knowledge of 
Latin is now. When, however, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 
learning became more generally diffused, and a knowledge of the 
classics indispensable, the Arts ceased to be part of a gentleman's edu- 
cation ; and this has continued so till a very recent date indeed, though 
connoisseurship might occasionally be considered fashionable. Such 
knowledge of any art as might enable a gentleman to practise it in the 
same manner as he might write verses or compose an essay was wholly 
unthought of. Architecture was first relegated to builders, whose only 
business it was to produce the greatest extent of accommodation, and 
the greatest amount of effect, compatible with the least possible price. 
AYhen by this process it had sunk into the abyss of Jacobean art, it 
was rescued from this depth of degradation, and taken up by a higher 
and better class of minds, but always has been followed as a trade or 
profession for the sake of its pecuniary emoluments ; and, with the 
rarest possible exceptions, never practised from a mere love of the art, 
or from an innate desire to produce beauty. Nor are the architects to 
blame for this. A poet or painter can realise his dreams at his own 
cost, and give them to the public as he creates them. An architect 
cannot work without a patron ; and when the upper classes are not 
imbued with a love of Art, and have not the knowledge sufficient to 
enable them to appreciate the l)eautiful, the architect must be content 
to stereotype the taste of his employers, or to starve. When the taste 
of the public in Architecture is as low or as mistaken as it has long 
been, the highest class of minds will not devote themselves to it ; and 
till they do so, and, far more than this, till the public thoroughly 
appreciate its importance, and master its essential principles, the art 
will certainly never recover the position it occupied during the Middle 
Ages, still less that which it occupied in Egypt or in G-reece. 

[The Renaissance in England. — In its general scope this 
introductory chapter is, like all our author's wiitings, signalised l)y 
sound sense and clever generalisatio^i • but there are portions of it 


whicli, although in then" very excess of earnestness they cannot ])ut 
set the readei- thinking to advantage, must nowadays he accepted only 
subject to further explanation. One view of the way in which the 
Revived Classic of Italy was introduced into England, with what 
measure of success it e^'entually obtained, is this. King Charles the 
First was on the throne when Inigo Jones brought over the new style. 
His so-called Ban(|ueting House at AVhitehall is familiar to everyone 
(Plate lOi)) ; and it is well understood that it was built as part of an 
intended great palace for the so^■ereign (Plates 108 and 1G4). A more 
promising beginning for the English Renaissance could scarcely have 
heen designed. But polities interfered. The story of the conflict 
of principle between the king and the people need not be told here. 
The king and his principles passed to extinction from one of the 
windows of that very Banqueting House : and the graces incidental 
to monarchy gave place to the grim puritanism of a fanatical democracy, 
with which such a thing as Architectural Art could find no favour at all. 
Time wore on dismally enough ; and when at length the amenities of 
life came to the front again under the regis of a new monarchy — bad as 
it Avas — it need scarcely be said that the supply of architectural skill in 
a country so isolated from the rest of Europe was very limited indeed, 
even if the demand had not been equally small. But a greater demand 
unexpectedly arose ; liondon was to a large extent suddenly destroyed 
by fire. 1'he cathedral and a crowd of other ancient churches were in 
ruins. Who was to rebuild them ? The citizens speedily rebuilt their 
warehouses and dwellings ; and fortunately they saw their way to find 
the money for new churches and a new cathedral ; but what about 
architects ? It is very much to the credit of the national sense of pride 
in the pro|)rieties that good art seems to have been insisted upon by 
those who were able to speak for the people at large. But it is quite 
clear that there were no professional architects to be had of such 
standing and reputation as to claim the public (confidence ; and an 
amateur came forward. This was Dr. Wren, a scientific scholar of 
some distinction, who — strangely enough^ — -was possessed of a most 
remarkable aptitude for architectural design, which for many years 
he had made a hobby. Through the advantages of his scientific and 
social connection (he was the nephew of an uncon(jueral)le old l)ishop 
who nad withstood the Puritan authorities with unexampled vigour, 
and Avas now at last triumphant), combined with his artistic knowledge 
and mechanical skill, he succeeded, as everyone knows, in so speedily 
and so successfully commanding recognition as a practical architect, 
that (as our author truly says), " no building of importance was 
erected during the last forty years of the seventeenth century of which 
he Avas not the architect." The results of his labours are still amongst 
the most cherished examples of English building ; men of great ability 
followed him ; and this is the story of the advent of Renaissance 


architecture in England. To what extent and in what particuLar 
manner this very peculiar process of origination affected at the time, 
or still affects, the artistic merits of modern English architecture as 
a whole, is one of the most interesting problems of historical criti- 
cism. That Wren must have been endowed by nature with artistic 
architectural genius of an unusually high order seems to be certain ; 
for the graceful projaortions of his designs are acknowledged by all 
masters of the art ; but how far his want of original training may 
have been responsible for the establishment, by the aid of his scien- 
tific ingenuity, of that practice of counterfeit construction, so very 
notable in St. Paul's, which has ever since been the bane of our 
national architecture, is a question which it is difficult to evade. 

It seems to be our authors opinion that in the Middle Ages 
every ecclesiastic of any position was instructed in Architecture, and 
that inany laymen of rank took almost an equal interest in it. He 
also appears to suggest that since the age of Elizabeth the jiractice 
of the art has fallen into the inferior hands of mere craftsmen, who 
follow it '"as a trade or profession, for the sake of its pecuniary 
emoluments," to the degradation of its dignity. Here the most in- 
telligent and experienced class of his readers will certainly not be 
able to agree with him. It is not possible that the design of the 
great Mediaeval cathedrals, or their construction, could in anv 
degree have been the handiwork of mere theological dignitaries — 
who had quite enough to do, then as now, to carry on their own 
j)rofessional duties and to further their own advancement — although 
no doubt the practical architect may have frequently been found in 
the cloister, ISTeither is there any evidence to show that the ama- 
teur in the Middle Ages was any more helpful in the architect's 
practical work than he is in our own day. The artistic design of a 
building is, and always has been, an intellectual operation of such 
a high character that nothing short of special training can by 
any means achieve success ; and this indisputable fact furnishes 
the raisoii d'etre, not for the architectural profession alone, but for 
the whole group of the ]3rofessions which surround it. The condi- 
tion of culture must be low indeed in these days wherever the 
person who is " his own architect " has not a very great fool for 
his client. — Ed.] 



Elizabeth 1558. James 1 1603. 

To begin this chapter, as we have begun all previous ones, by treating 
of Ecclesiastical Architecture first, would he plunging too much in. 
medias res, inasmuch as in England no church was erected of the 
smallest pretension to architectural design between the Reformation 
and the Great Fire of London in IGGG, with the solitary exception of 
the small church in Covent Garden erected by Inigo Jones in 1G31. 
The fact is, that the Catholics of the Middle Ages had left us an 
inheritance of churches more than doubly sufficient for the wants of 
the Reformed communities which succeeded them ; and it is only now, 
when the demand for church accommodation has overtaken the 
supply, that we should be glad if many of those which, in Elizabeth's 
time, were deserted and left to fall to ruin, could be reappropriated to 
their original purposes. In the earlier part of the Renaissance period 
this was so entirely the case, that but for the Fire of London, in 16G6, 
we should be obliged to wait till some time in the eighteenth century 
before we could find any churches worthy of notice in an architectural 

[The Dignity of Ecclesiastical Art. — The reason why in all 
Arcliitecttiral history the leading position has to be assigned to Religious 
Art, ought to be appreciated as a point of criticism. What the world 
may come to when a great many more generations of scientific thinkers 
have had their way with it, is a (question not to be answered : and how 
far human nature exhibits strength or weakness in matters of its senti- 
mental beliefs or ceremonial observances need not be discussed : but the 
fact certainly is that up to the present date no nation of any importance 
or any approximation to culture has ever existed without manifesting 
that special reverence for ideas of the divine, of whatever order, which 
leads to the employment of monumental building in the form of temples 
of worship. In other words, the construction of religious edifices has 
invariably claimed primary attention, and this from the earliest begin- 
nings down to the latest developments of human enterprise. The fact is 
perhaps the more remarkable when it is considered that such structures 
have always been devoid of utilitarian service ; but it is this perfect 


independence of ordinary purposes wliich so much accentuates the 
monumental principle. The temple is not in any way a house for 
humanity : it is a shrine for divinity. The most powerful conqueror, 
the most arbitrary governor, the most wealthy and the most proud, all 
enter it in awe. It is the House of Deity ; and, even if the Priest be 
disavowed, the Deity remains. The church, therefore, claims everywhere 
to be regarded as a monument, and not a house. It follows that Art 
shall be specially employed to render more monumental, most monu- 
mental according to circumstances, an edifice of this character ; and 
consecrated building brings with it consecrated Art. In our own some- 
Avhat prosaic times all this remains true ; and even in the brand new 
cities of America the brand new churches are still the local monuments. 
The Keligious Art of modern as of ancient communities is necessarily 
therefore a tiling apart from Secular Art, and standing on higher ground. 
Amongst other considerations, it is on this basis that the Gothic Eevival 
was able to take such a firm hold upon the public mind in England vnth 
reference to ecclesiastical work, while it so entirely failed in . secular. 
There is no rule, however, without its exceptions, and there have been 
certain religious sects with whom, as an article of faith, it has been 
held that all religious art is a snare. This attitude is of course a mere 
reaction from the otherwise universal custom, and it has never acquired 
any serious significance ; the instincts of humanity have been against it. 
It is to be particularly remarked at the present day that what used to be 
called the " Meeting-houses " of the Puritan bodies in England are in 
almost all cases being designed and more or less embellished on the same 
model as the churches. Even the worshippers whose boast it is almost 
fanatically to denounce the insignia of the Ages of Faith can bow their 
heads in uninquiring reverence before the same symbols of superstition 
when these are only the accepted ornaments of a temple of their 
own. — Ed.] 

Though the examples of Secular Art are infinitely more numerous and 
important in this early period, it is extremely difficult to fix a date when 
Classical details or Classical feelings first began to prevail. It certainly 
was not in the early years of Elizabetli's reign, though she ascended the 
throne in 1558, only six years before Michael Angelo's death. Leicester's 
buildings at KenilwortR, and her own at Windsor — wherever, in fact, 
English architects were employed — show signs of deviation from the 
purer Gothic types, but nothing to indicate the direction in which Art 
was tending ; and it is probable that, after all, the first introduction 
of the style is really to be ascribed to two foreigners. One of these, 
Giovanni di Padua, it is said, was employed at Longleat and Holmby, 
and seems to have been induced to visit this country by Henry VIII., 
though whether as an architect or in any other capacity is not quite 
clear. The other, Theodore Have or Havcnius of Cleves, was the 
architect of Caius College, Cambridge, erected between the years 1565 



Gate of Honour, Caius College, Cambridge. From a. Photograpb- 

aiid 157J:, which is certainly the most complete specimen of Classical 
Art which was at that time to be seen in England. 

The buildings of the College itself are generally in Elizabethan Clothic, 
with only the very smallest possible taint of Classicality ; but Llie gate- 
ways are adorned with Classical details to an extent very unusual in that 
age. The principal and most beautiful is the Gate of Honour, erected 
in 1574, and is one of the most pleasing as well as one of the most 
advanced specimens of the early Renaissance in England. Although its 
arch is slightly pointed, and the details far from being pure, the general 
design is very perfect. Owing to its greater height and variety of out- 
line, it groups much more pleasingly with modern buildings than many 
of the more j^urely Classical Triumphal arches which since that time 
have adorned most of the capital cities of Europe. There are some other 
parts of the CoUege, also, which show details of the same class, though 
not so complete in style as this. 

There are besides this several very pleasing specimens of Renaissance 
Art at Cambridge, and some also at Oxford — though more at the former, 
W'hich seems at that period to have had an accession of prosperity which 

Chap. I. 



enabled her to overtake in a great degree her richer and more venerable 
rival. The Chapel, especially the west front, of 8t. Peter's College is one 
of the best specimens of the art at Cambiidge, but perhaps the most 
pleasing is the quadrangle of Clare College, which exhil>its the English 
Domestic Architecture of that age with more purity and grace than 
almost any other example that can be named. The older buildings seem 
to have lieen burnt down in 1525, bat no steps were taken to rebuild 
them till more than a century afterwards, in 16:-58, when the present 
quadrangle was commenced. It is internally 150 ft. long by 111 ft. 
broad. Though strongly marked horizontal lines prevail every where, the 
vertical mode of accentuation is also preserved, and both are found here 
in exactly those proportions which indicate the interior arrangements ; 
and the size and decora- 
tion of the windows are ___ _ =__ __ 
also in good taste and in 
perfect keeping with the 
destination of the building. 

Another pleasing ex- 
ample is to be found in the 
north and south fronts of 
K'eville's Court in Trinity 
College, which were nearly 
completed when their 
founder died, in 1G15. 
They are partially shown 
hi Woodcut Xo. 181, 
further on. Though the 
upper storeys are not so 
varied or so effectively 
broken as those of Clare, 
the arcade below is a very 
pleasing feature, rarely 
found in English, though so common in Italian and Spanish buildings 
of an earlier age. 

At Oxford the most admired example of tliis age is the Grarden-frout 
of St. John's College, ascribed to Inigo Jones. It was commeuced in 
1631, and finished in four years ; but so essentially Gothic are all its 
details, that it requires careful scrutiny and no small knowledge of style 
to feel assured that it does not belong to the Tudor period. The front 
of the building, however, towards the courtyard tells the story of its age 
much more clearly, being slightly more ad^^anced than the buildings in 
Neville's Court, Cambridge, just alluded to. Its details are similar, 
though on a smaller scale, to those of the Hospital at Milan (Woodcut 
J^o. 75), the Castle at Toledo, and the house of Agnes Sorel at Orleans 
(Woodcut No. 122), though only introduced into England a. century 

155 Court vf Llare College. From Pugiu's ' Memonals of 



Book IV. 

after thev had been used on the continent of Euro^De, and then ahnost 
furtively, lieino; confined to courtyards and interiors, while the exterior 
of the l)uilding- was assimilated to the older and more truly English 
forms of Art. 

A more celebrated example is the Gateway of the Schools at Oxford, 
■designed by an architect of the name of Thomas Holt, and erected about 
1012. The whole of the rest of the quadrangle — the erection of which 
is due to the munificence of Sir Thomas Bodley — is of the debased Gothic 

Plan of Longleat House. i From Britton. 

of the age ; ^ but, as at St. John's, an example of the Classical taste then 
coming into vogue is introduced hiternally. The portal is in consequence 
decorated with the five Orders piled one over the other in the usual 
succession, according to the Vitruvian precept ; the lowest being Tuscan, 
the next Doric, over that comes the Ionic Order, and then the Corinthian. 
The Composite finishes this part of the design, but the whole is crowned 
by Gothic pinnacles, and other relics of the expiring style. Besides 
these, the whole design is mixed up with details of the utmost impurity 
and grotesqueness, making up a whole more to be admired for its 

' The parts shaded light are recent j Great Britain,' 5 vols. 4to. Loudon, 1827. 
additions or alterations. i ^ The work seems to have extended 

• ' The Arohiteetmal Antiquities of | from 1610 to 1*340. 

ClIAP. I. 



pietnresqueness and curiosity than for any beauty it possesses either in 
design or detail 

Longleat, built between the years 1567 and 1579, is one of the largest 
as well as one of the most beautiful palaces in England of that day. 
As before mentioned, the original design was probably due to John of 
Padua, which would account for the far greater purity that pervades 
its Classical details than is to be found in the Colleges just mentioned, 
or in most of the buildings of this age. The accounts of the building, 

g_ piii; I \mm\i^\ ] Bm { i_roi|i ^^^{ i 

157. Elevation of part of Longleat. From Britton's ' Architectural Antiquities.' 

however, which are still preserved at Longleat, show that K(jhert 
Smithson, who afterwards built WoUaton, was employed as " Free 
master mason" during the whole time it w^as in course of erection. 
Its front measures 220 ft., its flanks 164, so that it covers about the same 
ground as the Farnese Palace at Eome, though both in height and in 
other dimensions it is very much inferior. It consists of three storeys, 
each ornamented with an Order, — each of which tapers gradually from 
the lowest to the summit in a very pleasing manner, the details througli- 
out being elegant, though not rigidly correct. The most pleasing 
part of the design is the mode in which the facades are Ijroken by 



Book IY 

the projections — two at each end of the principal facade, and three on 
each of the lateral faces. This, with the windows heini^ large and 
mullioned, gives to the whole a cheerful, habitahle look, eminently 
snitaljle to a country residence of an EngUsh nobleman, though these 
features deprive it of that air of monumental grandeur which the 
Italian town palaces possess. We meet also in this design a peculiarity 
which distinguishes almost all English houses from those of Italy 
or France. It is, that the court — where there is one — is a back 
court. The entrance is always in the principal external facade, and 
all the principal windows of the living-rooms look outwards towards 

View of Wollatou Huuse. From Biitton. 

the country — never into the courtyard. Generally an English house 
is a square Ijlock, without any court in the centre ; and when there are 
wings, they are kept as subdued and as much in the background as 
possible. The Italian cortile is entirely unknown, and the French 
basse-court is only occasionally introduced, and then by some nobleman 
who has resided abroad, and learnt to admire foreign fashions. 

From Longleat the next step is to WoUaton, which Avas commenced 
in the year after the other was finished, while, as we learn from his 
epitaph in Wollatou church, the same Smithson who was master 
mason to the former had risen to the rank of architect to this new 


building.^ In it we find tlie Ordisrs used to al)out the same extent, 
and, as far as words could describe them, in aljout the same manner 
as at Longieat ; but when we compare the two designs, instead 
of the ahnost Italian purity of the first, we find a rich Gothic 
feeling pervading the latter, and rumiing occasionally into excesses 
bordering on the gTotes(]ue. The great hall, which rises out of the 
centre of the whole, and is plain in outline and G-othic in detail, 
overpowers the lower part of the design l)y its mass, and detracts 
very nifich from the beauty of the whole ; but, with this exception, 
the lower part of the design is probably the happiest conception of 
its age in this country ; and if repeated with the purity of detail we 
could now apply to it, would make a singularly pleasing type of the 
residence of an English nobleman. The rich mode in which the 
Orders are now used in Paris, for instance (Woodcut No. 147), shows 
how easily they could be made to accord with such a design as this, 
without any incongruity ; and even Grecian purity of detail would 
accord perfectly with such an outline and such a use of the Orders. 
The age and associations attached to such a specimen as this are too 
apt to lead us into the belief that the incorrectness of the details adds 
to the picturesqueness of the effect, instead of the fact being exactly the 
reverse. Till tried, however, it will lie difficult to convince peojile that 
such is the case ; and it may be feared that the attempt would involve 
LOO much originality for the present age. 

Longford Castle was again commenced just as Wollaton was finished, 
or in 1591 ; and, if anything, shows a further reaction towards the older 
style. It is a triangular building, with three great round towers at the 
angles, and the Doric pillars which adorn the porch support five pointed 
arches : and though those al)ove are circular, the whole is very unlike 
anything that may be called Classic, or ^\hich was being erected at the 
same period on the Continent. 

Hardwicke Hall in Derbyshu-e, erected between the years 1592 and 
1597, and therefore immediately succeeding Wollaton, is another very 
fa\-onrable specimen of this style ; but, though erected later, has even 
less of Classical detail or feeling than its predecessor. In fact, it has 
more affinity with those parts of Haddon Hall which approach it in 
date, but which, having been added to building of the true Gotliic age, 
have been to some extent assimilated to the older style, thus producing a 
pictures(]ueness of effect seldom reached even in this age. 

Temple Newsam, in Yorkshire, built in 1612, hardly shows a trace 
of the Italian features which twenty or thirty years earlier seemed as 
if they would entirely obliterate the details and feelings of Gotliic 
Art. Even Audley Inn, or End, commenced, in 1616, by the Earl of 
tSnffolk, is remarkably free from Italian feeimg, though designed by 

' History of Longleat,' by the Rev. Caiioa Jackson. Devize.*, ISGS. 


a foreign architect of the name of Jansen, When complete, it must 
have been one of the largest and most splendid mansions of that age ; 
and even now there is an air of palatial grandeur alwut the part that 
remains, that few of the houses of that age possess. "What little of 
Italianisni is to be found in it is confined to porches and cloisters ; 
there is no " Order " attached to the main buildings, and the windows 
are, throughout the large square mullioned openings, without dressings, 
so characteristic of the style. 

Besides these there is a large class of mansions which time has 
sanctified and sanctioned, tliongh they certainly are not beautiful, 
either from their detaUs or from any grouping of their parts. Among 
the best known of these may be quoted Hatfield House, built in 1611 ; 
Holland House, in 1007 ; Charlton, in Wiltshire ; Burleigh, 1:)uilt in 
1577 ; Westwood, in 1590 ; Bolsover, in 1G13 ; and many others of 
more or less note and magnificence : all picturesque, generally well 
arranged for convenience, and always having an air of appropriateness 
as the residence of a nobleman in the country — characteristics which 
make us overlook their defects of detail ; and, however tasteless many 
may have looked when new, it is impossible now to reason against the 
kindly influences which time has bestowed upon them. 

This class of buildings can hardly be called Classic, or even 
Renaissance, in the same sense that we ajjply that term to continental 
buildings. It is only here and there that we are reminded, by a 
misshapen pilaster or ill-designed arcade, of a foreign influence being at 
work ; and these are so intermingled with mulKoned windows and 
pointed gables, that the buildings might with equal propriety lie called 
Gothic, the fact being that there is no term really applicable to 
them but the very horrid, though very characteristic, name of Jacobean. 
As designs, there is really nothing to admire in them. They miss 
equally the thoughtful propriety of the Gothic and the simple purity 
of the Classic styles, with no pretensions to the elegance of either. 
All they can claim is a certain amount of picturesque appropriateness,, 
but the former (piality is far more due to the centuries that have 
passed away since they were erected than to any skill or taste on the 
part of the original designer. 

Though late in date, Heriot's Hospital in Edinburgh is so essen- 
tially in the Transitional style that it must be classified with those 
buildings which were erected before the reform introduced by Inigo 
Jones. It was commenced in 1G28, and practically completed from the 
designs and under the superintendence of local architects by 1()()0. 
Though later than the Schools at Oxford, the chapel and other parts not 
only retain the mullions and foliation of the Gothic period, but their 
heads are actually filled with tracery, which had long been abandoned 
generally ; but these features are mixed with Classical details treated 
in the Jacobean form, with a grotesqueness which the age has taught 


us to tolerate, but which have not in themseh'es any beauty or any 
appropriateness which can render them worthy either of admiration or 
of imitation. 

Externally, great character is ,ui\-en to this building by the four 
square tower-like masses that adorn the angles ; and between these, in 
what may be called the curtains, the window's are disposed without 

159. Gateway of Heriot's Hospital. From a drawing by W. BiUiug?, Esq.' 

much attention to regularity either in design or position, the orna- 
ments of each window being different, though all belonging to a class 
which is almost peculiar to Scotland. Generally the windows are 
adorned with a pilaster on each side, supporting a richly-ornamented 
ental:)lature ; but above that, instead of the usual straight-lined or 
curved pediment used by the Ptomans, and copied from them by the 

* 'Baronial and Ecclesiastical Antiquities of Scotland,' 4 vols. 4to. 1848. 



Book IV. 

Window-lieatl Ornameut. 

Italians, the Scotch employed a rich complicated piece of blind tracery, 
if it may he so called. As nsed hy them, the effect is not always 
pleasing ; the design being freiinently nngraceful, and the ornaments 
grotesque ; but it is very questionable whether in principle it is not 

a more legitimate 
mode of adorning a 
window-head than 
the one we so gene- 
rally make use of. 
It admits, at all 
events, of the most 
infinite variety of 
detail. Some of 
those at Glasgow 
College, or in Regent 
Murray's house in 
tlie Canongate, are as elegant as any ; Ijut there is scarcely a Scotch 
house of the early part of the seventeenth century wliich has not 
specimens to contribute. The style of these ornaments is singularly 
characteristic of the age. They show that love for (piirks and (pul)bles 
which pervades the literature of the day, but they show also that desire 

for cheapness which, rather than beauty, 
was the aim of the builders. Every 
architect knows how difficult it is to 
design, and how much more difficult it is 
to cut, all the hollow and curved mould- 
^1 \^/yp^ iw-'iiWJ ^"»^ which characterise every shaft and 

Kv^''\\ rs\ i//'^'' every muUion in the pure Gothic style, 

and how much its beauty depends on 
their delicacy and variety. Here, how- 
ever, it is merely a square sinking, such 
as might be cut out of deal with a saw ; 
and though it does produce a considerable 
effect at small cost, and i'S consistent with 
all the mouldings and muUions of the style, 
it will not bear examination, even when 
enriched and embossed, as it sometimes 
is, in pilasters and other features. Like 
\( ^ I all the other details of the age, they 
161. Pilaster Oraaments. uevcr reach the elegance of the Classical, 

and are immeasurably inferior to those 
of the Gothic style which preceded it. 

Taking it altogether, the EngUsh have perhaps some reason to be 
proud of their Transitional style. It has not either the grandeur of 
the Italian, the picturesqueness of the French, nor the lichness of 


detail which characterised the corresponding style in SjDain ; but it is 
original and appropriate, and, if it had been carried to a legitimate 
issue, might have resulted in something very beautiful. Long before, 
however, arriving at that stage, it was entirely superseded by the 
importation of the newly-perfected Italian style, which in the seven- 
teenth century had pervaded all European nations. 

During the eighty years that elapsed from the death of Henry VIII. 
to the accession of Charles I., the Transition style left its traces in 
every corner of England, in the mansions of the nobility and gentry, 
and in the colleges and grammar-schools which were erected out of 
the confiscated funds of the monasteries ; but, unfortunately for the 
dignity of this style, not one church, nor one really important public 
1»uilding or regal palace, was erected during the period which might 
have tended to redeem it from the utilitarianism into wliich it was 
sinking. The great characteristic of the epoch was that during its 
continuance Architecture ceased to be a natural form of expression, or 
the occupation of cultivated intellects, and passed into the state of 
being merely the stock-in-trade of professional experts. Whenever 
this is so, it is in vain to look either for progress in a right direction, 
or for that majesty and truthfulness which distinguished the earlier 
forms of the Art. 




Charles 1 1625 | James II 1685 

Commonwealth.- 1649 William and Mary 1689 

Charles II 1660 I Anne 1702 


Yery little is known of the early youth of Inigo Jones. What we do 
know, however, is, that though l3orn of poor parents, he early showed 
■so much taste for the Fine Arts, and such unusual ability, as to induce 
some noble patrons to send him to Italy in order that he might study 
them in the country which was then pre-eminent for their cultivation 
beyond any other in Europe. We further know that his success was 
such as to induce Christian, King of Denmark, to invite him as Court 
architect to Copenhagen ; and that he enjoyed such favour with that 
king's sister, the wife of our James I., that lie accompanied her to 
England, and was here immediately appointed her architect, and 
became Inspector-General of the Eoyal Buildings. 

It gives a very exalted notion of the love which Inigo Jones had 
towards these arts, that he should, in 1612, — on the death of Prince 
Henry, to whose service he was specially attached, — have returned to 
Italy ; abandoning for a time his practice at Court, and the emolu- 
ments which must then have been accruing to him, in order that he 
might, at the age of forty, complete his studies, and thoroughly master 
the principles which guided the great Italian architects in the designs 
which to his mind were the greatest and most perfect of all architec- 
tural ])roductions. 

On his return he produced his design for "Whitehall, on which his 
fame as an architect must always principally be based ; for, although 
it never was carried out, the Banqueting House, which was completed 
between the years 1619 and 1621, shows that it was not merely an 
architectural dream, but a scheme which might, in great part at least, 
have been completed, had it not been for the troubles preceding the 
Eevolution. Its greatest error was that it was conceived on a scale 
as far bevond the means as it was bevond the ^\'ants of the monarch 

Born 1572; died 1652. 

Chap. II. 



for whom it was designed. This was so much felt that a new design 
had to be prepared and submitted to the King, in 1G39, which 
showed tlie pahxce reduced, not only in scale, but intended to be 
carried out with so much plainness, and altogether hi so inferior a 
manner, that it is difficult to believe that it is by the same hand as 
the former design. This last proposal is that pul;)lished by Campbell 
in the ' Vitruvius Britannicus ; ' the former is that to which Kent 
devoted the beautiful volume so well known to amateurs. As both 
contain, as a matter of course, the one fragment which has been 
erected, it is only fair, in speaking of the architect's design, to refer to 



Block Plan of Tnigo Jones's Design for the Palace at 'Whitehall. 

the one which he conceived in the vigour of his talents and when 
fresh from his Italian studies ; and not the impoverished makeshift 
wliich the troubles of the times forced him to propose in order to meet 
the altered circumstances of Ms employers. 

As originally designed it was proposed that the palace should have 
a fa9ade facing the river, 874 ft. in extent, and a corresponding one 
facing the Park, of the same dimensions. These were to l)e joined by 
a grand facade facing Charhig Cross, 1152 ft. from angle to angle, 
with a similar one facing Westminster. The great court of the palace, 
37.S ft. wide by twice that number of feet in length, occupied - the 
position of the street (120 ft. wide) now existing between the Banquet- 
ing House and the Horse Guards. Between this and the river there 




Book IV. 



were three S(|uare courts, and on the side towards the Park a circular 
court in the centre, with two square ones on either hand. The greater 
part of the huilding was intended to he three storeys in lieight, each 
storey measuring, on an average, about 30 ft., and the whole Ijlock, with 
podium and balustrade, about 100 ft. The rest, like the Banqueting 
House, was to have been of two storeys, and 78 ft, high. 

Had such a palace been executed, it would have been by far the 
most magnificent erected in Europe, either before or since. It would 
ha\-e been as large as Versailles, and much larger than the Louvre or 
Tuileries, taken separately ; and neither the Escurial nor the Caserta 
could have compared with it. The river fagade of the New Houses of 
Parliament is nearly identical in extent with that projiosed by Jones 
for the river front of his palace ; except that its proportions are 
destroyed by being much less in height ; while the smallness of the 
parts and details contrast painfully wdth the grandeur of Jones's design. 
If the new Parliament Houses were continued westward, so as to 
include the Abbey towers in their western fagade, their extent would 
be nearly the same, and thus some idea may be formed of the scale on 
which Whitehall was designed. 

It was not, however, in dimensions, so much as in beauty of design 
that this proposal surpassed other European palaces. The only building 
to compare with its internal courts is that of the Louvre ; ]:)ut that is 
less in height and dimensions, and has not the simple grandeur which 
characterises this design ; and it wants, too, the variety which is pro- 
duced by the different heights of the parts — in the great court espe- 
cially — and the richness of effect produced by the change of the design 
in the various blocks. Externally, Whitehall would have surjDassed 
the Louvre, Versailles, and all other palaces, by the happy manner in 
which the angles are accentuated, by the boldness of the centre masses 
in each facade, and by the play of light and shade, and the variety of 
sky-line, which is obtained without ever interfering with the simplicity 
of the design or the harmony of the whole. 

One of the most original parts of the design was the circular court, 
210 ft. in diameter. It was to have been adorned on the lower storey 
with caryatid figures of men, doing duty for the shafts of Doric 
columns, and above them a similar range of female statues, bearing on 
their heads Corinthian capitals, to support in like manner a broken 
entablature. It need hardly be said that the design would have been 
better if the capitals had been omitted, and they had been treated 
merely as statues ; but either way the effect would have been very 
rich ; and the circular form of the court, with the dimensions given, 
would have been most pleasing. 

Perhaps the part of the design most open to criticism are the little 
cu])polini which crown the central blocks in each fagade. They cer- 
tainly are not worthy of their situation ; but they might easily have 



Book IV. 

been imi^roved, and in perspective they would not have looked so in- 
significant as they do in elevation. 

One other defect remains to be pointed out ; and it is one that 
practically would either have prevented the palace being built, or 
Avould have reqiiired alteration immediately afterwards. It is the 
smallness of the entrances to the Great Court : only one archway, 13 ft. 
wide, being provided for that purpose. The palace must have been 
cut ofT from either the river or the park by a public roadway, or all 
the traffic between London and Westminster must have passed through 
this court. According to the design, the thoroughfare Avas to have 
been outside ; but even then so small an entrance is utterly unworthy 
of so great a palace. There would, of com-se, have been some diffi- 
culty in interrupting the principal suite of apartments by raising an 
archway so as to cut them ; but, by Avhatever means it was done, a 

165. Bauquetiug House, Whitehall. 

grander entrance to the palace was indispensable, even irrespective of 
the through traffic ; and it is one of the defects of this design, as of 
the new buildings of the Tuileries, that no portal worthy of the palace 
is provided anywhere. 

The Banqueting House, as it now stands, is certainly neither worthy 
of the inordinate praise or the indiscriminate blame which has been 
lavished on it. It is true that it is a solecism to make what is one 
room internally look as if it were in two storeys on the exterior : but 
then it was only one of four similar blocks. That exactly opposite was 
to have been a chapel with a wide gallery aU round, and consequently 
requiring two ranges of lights. The other two were part of the general 
suites of the palace, and consequently could not afford to be 57 ft. 
high internally, as this is. At present it looks stuck up and rather 
meagre in its details ; but as part of a curtain between two higher 

Chap. II. 



East Elevation of St. Paul's, Coveut Garden. 
Scale 5(J feet to 1 inch. 

and more riclily-ornaineuted blocks of building this would have dis- 
appeared. Its real defects of detail are the pulvination of the lower 
frieze, \\'hich is ^'ery unpleasing, and the height of the balustrade. 
But, on the other hand, the windows are well ]iroportioned and elegant 
in ornament, — the voids and solids are well Ijalanced, and the amount 
of ornament sufficient to give an appropriate effect without being over- 
done : and, what is perhaps of as much importance as* anything else, 
the whole is designed on so large a scale as to convey an idea of 
grandeur, giving a palatial effect irrespective of any merits of detail it 
may possess. 

In the erection of the church of St. Paul's, Covent Garden, 
Jones had prol)ably the fortune to raise the first important Pro- 
testant church now knowai to exist ; and as we learn that his .in- 
structions were the 
same as those given 
to most architects 
in similar circum- 
stances, viz., to pro- 
vide the ■ gTeatest 
possible amount of 
accommodation at 
the least possible 
expense, he is fairly 

entitled to claim a degree of success rarely accomplished l)y his 

St. Paul's church was apparently commenced about the year 1631, 
under the auspices of Francis Duke of Bedford, as a chapel-of-ease to 
St. Martin's-in-the-Fields. Although small hi dimensions — only GO ft. 
by lo;>— and almost barn-like in its simplicity, no one can mistake 
its being a church, and it would be extremely difficult, if possible, to 
quote another in which so grand an effect is produced by such simple 
means : its only really architectural features being two very simple 
plain pillars, forming a recessed portico in antis ; which— though 
Jones probably did not know it — was one of the favourite and most 
successful im'entions of the Greeks. 

In this instance the effect is considerably marred by the curious local 
superstition that the altar must be towards the east. Thougli this is not 
known in Italy and other intensely Catholic countries, it is a favourite 
idea with English Protestants, and many fine chm-ches have been 
spoiled in consequence. Here it is particularly painful, as the central 
door, being built up with stone, renders the portico unmeaning to a 
great extent, and gives a painful idea of falsehood to the whole 
design. But, barring this, the simplicity of the portico, the boldness 
of the projection of the eaves, and the general harmony and good taste 
pervading the whole building, convey a very high idea of Jones's 



Book IV. 

talents, and of his power of apijlyiug them to any design, however novel 
it might be. 

The repairs which Jones executed at St. Paul's Cathedral can 
scarcely be quoted as examples of his genius or taste. It was hardly 
possible that any one should succeed in casing a Gothic nave with an 
Italian exterior without such incongruity as should spoil l)oth. His 
own taste and that of his age led him to despise what was then con- 
sidered the barbarism of our forefathers. A great deal was thought 
to be gained when it could be disguised and hidden out of sight ; 
but it would requu'e a greater genius than the world has yet seen to 
accomplish this successfully, and we must not therefore feel surprised 
if he failed in this instance. Considered, however, by itself, the 
portico which he added in front was one of the finest, if not the very 
best, that ever was erected in England. It consisted of eight well 
proportioned Corinthian pillars in front, each 47 ft. high, with two 
square ones on the angles, and was three pillars deep ; the whole well 
proportioned and elegant in all its details, standing well on its step, 
and with no useless pediment to crush it. On the whole, it may be 
considered the best example of its class in this country before that 
of St. George's Hall, Liverpool, and shows what a thorough master of 
his art its designer was, even at that early period. 

Perhaps the most successful of Jones's smaller designs is the one 
he furnished for the Duke of De^•onshire's 
villa at Chiswick. It was avowedly sug- 
gested by that of his idol Palladio at 
Vicenza ; but he had too much taste and 
originality to copy it literally, as was 
done at Mereworth Hall, or to thrust two 
rooms into two of the porticoes, as was 
done at Foot's Cray. On the contrary, 
Jones improved the foi'ra of the dome, 
and he added only one portico, which, in 
fact, Avas necessary to suggest the design ; 
and he so modified the elevation of the 
three remaining sides as to make them 
elegant and appropriate facades for an 
English nobleman's villa. The disposi- 
tion of the interior is as elegant and 
dignified as that of the exterior, and, for 
its purposes, as pleasing as any to be found anywhere. It may be 
objected that the introduction of the portico is altogether a mistake ; 
that it trammels the whole design, and is of no use. Such, however, 
was not the opinion of either architects or their employers in those 
days. All were hankering after classicality, and a portico was the 
feature best known, and the one which most readily suggested the ideal 

BJ Iff ' ■ 


167. Villa at Chiswick. From Kent. 

Chap. II. 



tliey were seeking after. As it was afterwards used, in a great many 
instances it was an absurdity which nothing can excuse ; but not 
as aiwlied here to 

what was merely 
the suliurban villa 
of a refined noble- 
man, and where, 
consequently, if 
anywhere, it was 
excusable to in- 
dulge in learned 
fancies, irrespective 
of their utilitarian 

In the fagade 
which Jones de- 
signed for Wilton 
he omitted the Or- 
der altogether, and 
sought merely to 
attain the effect he 

desired by a pleasing proportion of the parts among themselves, and a 
sufficient scale to give dignity to the mass ; and so successful was 
he that this design has been repeated over and over again in the 
country seats of English noblemen. There is little to be found 
with the elevation, which is both elegant and appropriate, unless it 

Elevation of Villa at Chiswick. From Kent. 

ra5a(le of Wilton House, Wiltshire. 

is being too plain for the pui-pose. This is a defect that might easily 
have been removed by richer dressings round the windows, or by 
panelling ; l^ut these ornaments were not then considered such 
essential parts of a Classical design as they have since become, 
and an architect of those days, when called upon to enrich such a 


facade as this, could think of nothing better than adding a portico 
of from four to eight pillars, running through two or more storeys, 
and plastering on useless pilasters wherever pillars could not be put. 
No architect was so free from these defects as Jones, and nothing 
gives a higher idea of his genius than to see how he avoided the faults 
of his master Palladio, and only used the Orders according to the 
dictates of his own good taste. 

It is too much the fashion at the present day to ascribe to Jones 
every remarkable building erected during the reigns of the first two 
Stuarts : and if he was guilty of many of these, we must place him in a 
lower rank than he is generally supposed to be entitled to. The design 
of the ri\-er facade of Greenwich Hospital is almost always said to be 
his, Avithout a shadow of documentary evidence, merely, apparently, 
because his son-in-law and pupil, Webb, superintended the execution 
of it : but it is almost impossible to believe that the architect of 
Whitehall and Chiswick could have designed anything so clumsy in 
its details. It has great three-quarter columns running through two 
storeys, crowned by an ill-proportioned attic, and with great useless 
pediments shutting up the windows of the upper storey. From its 
size and position, and the material of which it is built, and, more than 
this, from the extent to which it has afterwards been added to, the 
facade of Greenwich Hospital is a grand and imposing mass ; but it 
would be difficult to jioint out anywhere in Europe, even during the 
reign of Henri Quatre, any design that will less bear examination. 
The model adopted here seems to have been the fagade of St. Peter's 
at Rome, and it certainly has not been impro\ed upon. 

Another design which is described to Jones, but which certainly 
belongs to his son-ip-law, is that for Amesbury in Wiltshire, which, 
though considerably more elegant and tasteful than Greenwich, has 
faults he never would have committed. It is interesting, however, as 
one of the earliest examples of the type on which nine-tenths of the 
seats of English gentry were afterwards erected ; almost all subse- 
quent houses consisting of a rusticated basement, which contains the 
dining and business rooms ; a bel etage, and a bedroom storey, with 
attics in the roof. On the basement, and running through the two 
upper storeys, is the portico — always for ornament, never for use, and 
generally so badly applied as to be offensively obtrusive. In this in- 
stance there are no upper windows under the portico, but those on 
either side range so exactly with the entablature of the Order that we 
cannot help perceiving that there is a falsehood about it contrary to 
all the principles of true Art. 

Some of the English country seats built after Amesbury are l)etter 
in design — many very nnich worse — but nearly all follow its general 
features, thus differing essentially from those of either Italy or France. 
Generally, they are cubical blocks without courtyards — ^seven, nine, or 

Chap. II. 




, ■ . 'i° 

Elevation of the House of Amesbury, Wiltshire. 

eleven windows on each side, according to circumstances, and three 
or five of these on the principal front covered by a jwrtico. It is a 
simple receipt, and, barring the portico, one eminently suited to the 
climate, and capable of internal comfort and external grandeur, though 
the attempt to render it Classical has frequently marred the latter 
quality. So far as we know, either from his published drawings or 
from such designs as can authentically be ascribed to him, no 
examples of this class were proposed by Jones. On the contrary, 
there is an originality and playfulness about his published designs 
which might have made more expensive and less comfortable dwelhngs 
in this country, but would always have been elegant, and never com- 
monpktce. He fell, however, upon evil days, as the troubles of the 
Commonwealth supervened before his career was half over, and before 
any of his great conceptions were practically realised ; but we know 
enough of what he did, and of what he could do, to be able to assign 
to him the very first rank among the artistic architects of England 
during the Renaissance period. Wren may have been greater in con- 
struction, but was not equal to Jones in design ; and we look down 
the ranks from that day to tliis without finding any names we can 
fairly class with those of these two great men. This, however, may 


be owing to the circumstances in which the architects of subsequent 
ages were placed more than to the individual deficiencies of the men 

II.— AVrex.^ 

If Inigo Jones had a practical monoplj of the architectural pro- 
fession in England up to the time of the Commonwealth, that of Sir 
Christopher Wren was even more complete after the Eestoration ; for 
no building of importance was erected during the last forty years of 
the seventeenth century of which he was not the architect. 

Both by birth and education Wren was essentially a gentleman, 
and at a very early age was remarkable as a prodigy of learning, not 
only classical but mathematical. The bent of Ms mind, however, 
seems to have been towards the latter ; and he early distinguished 
himself by the zeal and success with Avhich he cultivated the physical 
sciences ; but we do not know, either what first made him turn his 
attention to Architecture, or when he determined on following it as a 
profession. It certainly could hardly be during the Commonwealth, 
when there was no room for its exercise ; but three years after the 
Restoration we find his name on a commission for repairing and restoring 
Old St. Paul's, and acting as the architect to carry out the works 
determined upon. In the following year (1664) he gave the designs 
for the Sheldonian Theatre at Oxford ; and as that building was 
wholly carried out from his plans and under his superintendence, and 
is also one of his best and most difficult works, we may assume that 
he was then an architect by profession, and had mastered all the 
preliminary studies requisite for its exercise. 

It is not, however, yet clear that even then he would have followed 
it exclusively, and might not have gone back to astronomy and the 
mathematical pursuits in which he had achieA'ed so great a rejDutation, 
had it not been for the Great Fire of London in 1666. He was at 
Paris, studying apparently the Avorks then going on there, when this 
great calamity happened ; and hurried back immediately to assist in 
taking liis share in the great work of restoration. 

His first great step in this direction was preparing a plan on 
which he proposed the city should be rebuilt. Unfortunately for us 
it was found impracticable at the time to carry this out, as, had it 
been followed, it would have made London not only one of the 
handsomest, but one of the most convenient cities in the world. The 
opportunity, however, was lost ; and subsequent improvers can 
only contume to mourn oxev the blindness or the selfishness of their 
forefathers who neglected the ojiportunity. 

> Born 1632 ; died 1723. 

Chap. IL 



Although he was not permitted to direct the alignment of the 
streets, the fire gave him an opportunity of rebuilding St. Paul's and 
some fifty other churches, and so completely established his reputa- 
tion that e^'ery architectural work of importance for nearly half a 
century was intrusted to his care ; and although we cannot but 
rejoice that so competent a man was found for so great an occasion, 

171. Plan of St. Paul's Cathedral, as originally desigu9d by Sir Christoplier Wren. 

Scale lOU feet to 1 inch. 

we must at the same time feel that more work was thrown on his 
hands than any one man could perform, and consequently many of his 
designs show marks of haste, and of a want of due consideration. 

The greatest of all his works is of course St. Paul's — the largest 
and finest Protestant cathedral in the world, and, after St. Peter's, the 
most splendid church erected in Europe since the revival of Classical 
Architecture. The fire had decided the fate of the old cathedral, but 



Book IV. 

it was not till nine years afterwards (IGirj) that any practical steps 
were taken to rebuild it. The foundation-stone of the present church 
was laid on the 2 1st June in that year, and tliirty-five years after- 
wards the top-stone of the lantern was laid l)y Sir Christopher Wren, 
thus practically completing the building in 171<».i 

As early as 1673 Wren had prepared several designs for the new 
church, which were then submitted to the King ; and one (apparently 
the one he himself liked best) was selected, and a model ordered to be 

' Four years after the completion of the Dome of the luvulides ot Paris, which 
had been commenced five years later than St. Paul's. 


prepared on such a scale and in such detail as might prevent any 
difficulty arising afterwards in the event of the architect's death. That 
model still exists, now under repair, at the South Kensington Museum, 
and is so complete that we have no difficulty m criticising it as we 
would a church wliich had been completed. As will be seen from the 
annexed plan, it is aiTanged much in the same manner as Sangallo's 
design for St. Peter's (Woodcut No. 24) — practically a Greek cross 
with a dome in the centre, and a detached frontispiece, joined to the 
main body of the building by a narrow vestibule or waist, in Avhich 
are situated two of the jDrincipal entrances. The central dome, which 
was to ha^'e l)een of the same diameter as the present one (a little over 
100 ft.), was, like it, to stand on eight arches — four of them 38 ft. in 
diameter, the other four about 22 ft. These opened into eight apart- 
ments, each covered by a dome 45 ft. in diameter, but placed at vary- 
ing distances from the central dome. For the purposes of a service 
church, in which the congregation is an important eleiient, it cannot 
be doul)ted that this arrangement is superior to that of the 
present church, the great defect being a want of definite proportion 
between the small and large arches supporting the dome. As they all 
sprung from the same level, the wide arches are too low, the narrow 
ones are too high ; but the practical difference is so slight that it looks 
like bad building, or as if the architect had made a mistake in setting 
out the work, and tried to correct his error by a clumsy device. Not- 
withstanding this and some minor defects, it cannot but be a matter of 
regret that Sir Christopher was not allowed to carry out his design, 
as the interior as far excelled that of the present church as its exterior 
sui-jDasses that shown in the model ; while looking at the slow and 
tentative steps by which he arrived at the design ^ of the outside of the 
present church, there can be little doubt ])ut that most of the defects 
of the model would have been remedied before l^eing carried into 

One of the greatest defects of the plan, externally, is the introduc- 
tion of the hollow curves surrounding the dome ; but this could easily 
have been remedied without in the least interfering with the internal 
arrangements, either by introducing a quadrant, as shown at a, on the 
left hand of the annexed diagram, bringing the lines of the dome 
down to the ground ; or, better still, by introducing an angular 
arrangement, as shown at B, on the right hand.^ In either case the 

1 These in-e well sliown in the ilhis- I inventions of the Indian architects in plan- 
trations of Mr. W. Longman's recently- nmg are the octagonal domes supported 
published 'Three Cathedrals dedicated on 12 or more pillars, and the angular 
to St. Paul in London.' It makes disposition of the njasonry of their great 
one shudder to see what we have es- toners. The latter not only gives great 
caped. j strength constructively, butaffords infinite 

2 The two great and most successful play of light and thade, and variety of 
VOL. II. T) 



Book IV. 

lines of these four angular domes ought to have been carried through 
the roof, the cornice of their drums ranging with that of the stylo- 
bate of the great dome, and light being introduced into them by 
openings at their base, as is done in all Byzantine churches. Had this 
been done it would not only have given variety in the roof, where it 
is rather wanted internally, but the group of five domes in the centre 
of the church, the lines of four of which are actually brought down 
to the ground externally, would have been a happier arrangement than 
has yet been obtained in these domical churches. 

Diagram showing two modes by which the hollow curves of Wren's first design 
miglit be remedied. 

The nave could easily have been made straight lined, but the 
western front, as shown in the model, presents a difficulty not so 
easily got over. A great portico, consisting of pillars more than 50 ft. 
in height, backed by a range of pilasters less than 40 ft., with their 
entablatures on the same level, would have been a solecism nothing 
could well get over.i Sir Christopher himself seems to have felt this, 

design. Sir Christopher Wren adopted 
the first "witli perfeict success in tlie in- 
terior of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, and it 
•would have been curious if he had hit 
upon the other in St. Paul's. If he had 
adopted the form suggested at b, it would 
have resulted in a plan as essentially 
Indian as St. Stephen's, and would pro- 
bably have been as great a success ex- 
ternally, that is, as an interior. 

Mr. Longman, in his ' Tliree Cathedrals,' 
p. 115, is of opinion that he was very 
nearly adopting a third Indian invention, 
by hanging a weight inside his dome to 
counteract the outward thrust, as is done 
at Beejapore ('History of Architecture,' 
vol. ii.; Woodcuts 1119 to 1125). His 
illustrations certainly seem to coun- 

tenance this idea, and I wish I could 
believe that it was so* but I am afraid it 
IS only a timber screen to hide the mode 
in which the upper dome is lighted — an 
(•xaggeration, in fact, of the mode adopted 
by Hardouin, at the Invalides in Paris 
(Woodcut 104), with the drawings of 
which Wren was no doubt faniiliai. Had 
so novel an expedient occurred to him, 
some allusion to it must have been found 
in th(^ ' Paicntalia,' or some calculations, 
an infinite number of which would liave 
been requiieil to induce a eonimissiou to 
allow its adoption. 

' It was like the want of a definite 
proportion between the great and small 
arches under the domes internally, and 
is always painful in true art. 


for in one of his drawings, pnblished by Dugdale,^ the entrances on 
the west are under the pillars of the portico, as in the flanks, which 
certainly was much more in accordance with rule, but at the expense 
of common sense, as the portico then became a useless ornament, and 
would much better have been omitted altogether. 

Assuming, however, that the external form of the dome would have 
been modified till it resembled the present one, that the western cam- 
paniles would have been introduced, and that the whole design would 
have been revised in the sense above indicated, the result certainly 
would have been far more satisfactory than the present design. Inter- 
nally, the gradually-increasing magnificence from the principal 
entrance to the great dome, with notliing beyond but a small choir 
of the same design and length as the transepts, would have been in 
perfect taste, while the ever-varying perspectives in the great circum- 
ambient aisle of the dome — would have surpassed those in the great 
aisle that surrounds the dome at St. Peter's, while, externally, nearly 
all the faults of the present design would have been avoided. 

These, however, are idle speculations now. "Whether in consequence 
of the influence of the Duke of York, as is commonly asserted, or 
whether owing to the feelings of the clergy, who wanted arrangements 
similar to those they had been accustomed to in theu' own cathedrals, 
the model was thrown aside, and Wren was ordered to produce a 
design embodying the present arrangements in plan. This design 
was submitted to the King, and approved of in the year 1675,^ and, 
externally at least, is so inferior to even the first design, that we are 
justified in assuming that if the present very beautiful exterior grew 
out of this, something very much more perfect than either might have 
grown out of the design embodied in the model. The interior, as 
then designed, was apparently very much what was afterwards carried 

The great defect of the design in plan is that it consists of two 
moderately-sized apartments, the nave and choir, almost identical in 
design, but separated from one another by a third apartment prac- 
tically more than double the width and also double the height of 
either. It is practically three distinct churches, and not so arranged 
as to get the best effect out of them. Had the choir been only the 
same length as the transepts —adding, of course, the apse — and the 
two eastern bays been added to the nave, it would have done much to 
redeem the plan. But the radical defect was the adoption of the 

> 'History of St. Paul's,' London, 1814- , Though called in the Eoyal Warrant 

1818, opposite p. 124. This seems to "very artificial, proper, and useful," it 

have been enrlier than the model, and in now appears to us singularly devoid of 

fact Wren's first design. art, improper, and for the most part 

^ Published by Mr. Longman in his useless for the purposes for which it was 

'Three Cathedrals of St. Paul,' p. 113. i intended. 

P 2 



Plan of St. Paul's Cathedral. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

octagonal plan for the dome.^ Practically this reduced the width ofl 
all the adjoining compartments to 40 feet., whereas, as above pointed 

* In making this design, Sir Christo- 
pher was probably thinking of the very 
beautiful effect gained by an oc"t;igoiial 
arrangement at Ely ; he, however, over- 
looked the fact that the flexibility of the 
Pointed style admitting arches to be 

grouped together of all widths, lent itself j 
to such an arrangement in a manner in- 
compatible with the greater severity of] 
the round arched styles ; but at Ely the I 
arcliitect abandoned the vista along thej 
aisles, as practic illy not worth preserving 

Chap. II. 




Half Sectiuii, half Elevation of the Dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. 

out, at least 60, or something between that and the Byzantine pro- 
portion of 100, were necessary to bring the parts at all into harmony. 
This led to a third difficulty. It was impossible that the alternate 
arches of the dome could be 4o feet wide below, and as they must 
spring from the same level and reach the same height, a ^'ariety of 
mechanical expedients were necessary which have become real de- 
formities in practice. They might to some extent be remedied now 
—for instance, by introducing two pillars standing free and carrying 
the entablature horizontally across, and supporting a real tribune with 
a bold balcony in front, in place of the present curved cornice, or by some 


such expedient. But nothing could remedy the comparative narrow- 
ness of the nave ; and the vista along the aisles, on which the architect 
mainly depended for effect, is only productive of confusion. In plan it 
looks pretty, but, as seen in perspective, the distance across the great 
dome which separates the nave aisles from those of the choir is so 
great as entirely to neutralise the effect so sought to be obtained. 

The enormously disproportionate height of the dome — 216 feet 
against 108 in width — dwarfs everything around it, and it does not 
itself look half so spacious as it would have done had it sprung from 
the stringcourse above the Whispering Gallery, in which the pilasters 
of the dome now stand. ^ Wren seems to have been haunted with thi 
idea, that he ought to scoop as much as he possibly could out of tht 
dome because Brunelleschi and Michael Angelo had done so ; but it 
certainly was a mistake. Had he been content with one 40 or 50 feet 
lower he would have done something towards harmonising his dispropor- 
tionate parts, and his cone, which is a perfectly legitimate constructive 
expedient, would not then have interfered with his architecture. As 
it is, it forced liim to slope forward the interior pillars between tlie 
windows in a manner utterly destructive of all true architectural effect. 

Besides these defects of proportion there is one of detail, which 
runs through the whole design and mars it to an extent so great that 
the wonder is Wren could ever have introduced it. Throughout the 
whole interior, over the great Order, there runs a perfectly useless 
attic, 12 feet high, between it and the springing of the vault. It was 
introduced probably to give greater height to six windows in the 
building, three at the east end and one at the end of each of the tran- 
septs and nave. But this was very little gain, and it divorced his vault 
from the Order that ought to support it, forced him to omit the archi- 
trave and frieze of his Order everywhere, to allow sufl&cient height to 
the arches of the nave and choir, and generally introduced a most 
unnecessary complexity and weakness into the whole design. The 
remedy for all this w^as simple. Without interfering with his dimen- 
sions or construction in any way, he had only to increase his Order six 
or seven feet in height, and so reduce his attic to blocking course. 
Had he done this, the entablature might have run unbroken all round 
the church, and the taller Order would have given dignity and pro- 
portion to all his larger arches, especially under the dome, where the 
additional heio-ht is much wanted.^ 

' If Ely was the model he was follow- to spring from the cornice of tlie Order of 

iug, he ouglit to have recollected that 
the dome of Ely, if it may be so called, 
springs from the same capitals as the 
great arches of the nave and choir ; and 
though ill the centre there is a lantern 
which is liigher, architecturally it is as 
if the dome of St. Puul's had been made 

the nave and choir. 

2 This might be done now, but would 
be expensive; it would, however, do 
more to improve the effect of the church 
internally than any change that could 
be made, except, perhaps, lowering the 


Above tliis attic rises the vault, which l)y no means helps to excuse 
its introduction, for it must he confessed it is singularly confused and 
inartistic, consisting of a series of small flat domes, 26 ft. in diameter, 
each surrounded by a very heavy wreath of mouldings, which the 
little string of ornament along the arris of the supporting vaults 
seems painfully inadequate to support. It is possible some of these 
defects might be remedied or concealed by judicious painting ; but 
nothing that can now be done will effectually cure them. The fact 
seems to be that Wren was met hj the same difficulties which all 
architects have experienced in trying to adapt Classical details to 
Gothic forms. Besides this, he seems always to have had before his 
eyes the mechanical difficulties of his task, and, when the two appeared 
to conflict, he seems invariably to have allowed the mechanical exigen- 
cies precedence over the artistic. This has enabled him to constrtict 
a singularly stable church, but one which, as an artistic design, is 
internally very inferior to St. Peter's at Eome, immeasurably so wdien 
compared to such a church as St, Genevieve at Paris, and one which 
must not be mentioned in conjunction with the Byzantine or Gothic 
designs whose features he was trying to adapt. 

It is extremely difficult to ascertain how far Sir Christopher 
intended to rely on painting or coloured decoration of any sort to 
remedy these defects, or for the completion of the interior of his cathe- 
dral. From a note in the ' Parentalia ' (p. 292) we learn that, instead of 
painting, which was determined upon against his will, he proj^osed 
" to beautify the inside of the cupola with the more durable ornament 
of mosaick work, as is nobly executed in the cupola of St, Peter's at 
Rome." It is probable also that he intended to adorn the S]3andrils 
of the dome under the Whispering Gallery with paintings or mosaics 
such as are shown in Emmett's engraving dated 1702.^ It may also 
be inferred that he intended to paint or colour the nine great domes 
of the nave, choir, and transepts, as these are finished in plaster and 
not in stone like the rest of the vault, and he may also have proposed 
to adorn the apse either with marble or paintings in imitation of 
marble, as is now done. These paintings or mosaics would have, of 
coiu'se, involved a certain amount of gilding of the architectural orna- 
ments, Ijut it is more than doubtful whether Sir Christopher ever 
intended to have gone beyond this in this direction. The whole spirit 
of the age in which he lived was inimical to coloured architectiu'e, 
"Wherever any traces of it were found in Gothic buildings it was voted 
a l>arbarism, and carefully covered up with whitew^ash, and it is only 
within the last thirty or forty years that our revived taste for the 
Gothic style, and the discovery that the Greeks also coloured their 
arclutecture, that the idea has come to be tolerated amongst us. In 

' Eugiaved by Longman, in his ' Three Cathedrals of St. Paul,' p. 149. 


Wren's clays, to liave coloured the interior of a Protestant church even 
to the extent ahove indicated must have seemed a most daring and 
hazardous innovation, and it is no wonder that the commission pre- 
ferred Sir James Thornhiirs monochromes to their architect's mosaics. 
Though he regretted this, and justly, he would have been more vexed 
and horrified had any one proposed to eke out his stone architecture 
with colour. The idea of adding colour to his capitals or cornices, or 
covering his friezes or walls with panels or painted ornaments, would 
have sunk deeper into his heart than the refusal of salary, or any 
of the other annoyances to which he was so cruelly exposed. His 
stone architecture was, as he considered, complete in itself, and 
required no aid from any adventitious art.^ 

Be this as it may, it appears that most of the defects of the interior 
of St. Paul's have arisen from the fact that, both from the natural 
bent of his mind and from the circumstances of his education, AYren 
was more of an engineer than an architect, and, consequently, was 
frequently led to display his mechanical skill at the expense of his 
artistic feeliugs ; and, generally speaking, he had not that intimate 
knowledge of the resources of Architectural Art — especially the " ars 
i'elare artem''' — which might have enabled him to avoid parading his 
mechanical expedients so offensively as he has frequently done, and 
most especially in the interior of St. Paid's. It is only fair to add, 
however, that if the building had been completed and ornamented 
with sculptiu'e and painting even to the extent designed by its archi- 
tect, the effect might have been different from what we now see. If all 
its structural defects could not have been concealed, attention might 
have been at least so far distracted from them that they would hardly 
have been remarked, and it might even internally have had some 
claim to rank second among the Kenaissance churches of Europe. 

The arrangement of the exterior is infinitely more successful than 
that of the interior. The general design of the dome is by far the 
most pleasing which has yet been accomplished, and the employment 
of a wooden covering by no means objectionable under the circum- 
stances. It is only what every Gothic building in Europe possesses — 
a wooden roof externally over a stone vault in the interior; and it 
enabled Sir Christopher to mould it to any form that pleased the 
eye, and to carry the whole gracefully to the height of 360 ft. from 

' It by no means follows from this, that i architect more capable than Wren to form 
•we at the present day would notbe justi- : a correct judgment, and to carry out such 
fied in adding colour to any extent, pro- I a work. Without these two requisites, 
vided we felt certain that the taste of the ' we run great risk of murdering St. Paul's, 
present day in these matters was better ; in the same manner as Burlington House 
than that of the age when St. Paul's was has recently been murdered, 
erected, and if we felt sure of finding an 

Chap. II. 



West View of St. Paul's Cathedral. From a Photograph. 

the floor-line to the top of the cross, without any ajipai'ent effort 

The colonnade surrounding the dome is also quite unsurpassed. 
By blocking up every fourth intercoluniniation, he not only got a 
great appearance of strength, but a depth of shadow between, which 
gives it a richness and variety combined with simplicity of outUne 
fulfilling every requisite of good architecture, and rendering this part 
of the design immensely superior to all its rivals. Owing also to the 
re-entering angles at the junction of the nave and transepts coming 
so close to it, you see what it stands upon, and can follow^ its 
whole outline from the ground to the cross without any tax on the 

The great defect of the lower part of the design arose from Wren 
not accepting frankly the Mediaeval arrangement of a clerestory and 
side aisles. If his aisle had projected beyond the line of the upper 
storey, there would at once have been an obvious and imperati"S'e 


reason for the adoption of two Orders, one over the other, \vhich 
has lieen so much criticised. Supi^osing- it were even now determined 
to fill up the interval between the propyl^a and the transept, as 
shown by tlie dotted lines on the plan at A (Woodcut 174), the 
whole would be reduced to harmony ; it would hide the windows in 
the pedestals of the upper niches, which are one of the great blots in 
the design ; and by giving greater simplicity and breadth to the 
lower storey, the whole would obtain that repose in which it is some- 
what deficient. 

The west front is certainly open to criticism as it now- stands, there 
being no suggestion externally of two storeys, or two aisles of different 
heights. But its dimensions, the beauty of its details, the happy out- 
line of the campaniles, the proi^ortion of these to the fa9ade, and of all 
the parts one to another, make up the most pleasing design that has 
yet been executed of its class. 

The same may be said of the transepts. Their circular porticoes, 
and the jM'oportions of all the parts, their harmony with, and subordina- 
tion to, the prnicipal fagade, are all extremely pleasing ; and though 
it would be easy to mention mhior points which our greater knowledge 
of the style would enable us to remedy, it will hardly be disputed that 
the exterior of St. Paul's surpasses in beauty of design all the other 
examples of the same class Avhich have yet been carried out : and, 
whether seen from a distance or near, it is, externally at least, one of 
the grandest and most beautiful churches of Europe. 

[The Design of the Dome of St. Paul's. — The question of the 
artistic merits or demerits of the design of our famous metropolitan 
dome, taken as a critical exercise on high ground, is one that is \vell 
worthy of consideration. As a preliminary the reader is retpiested to 
compare carefully the section of this dome (No. 175) with the sections 
of the dome aii Mantua (No. 16), the dome of St, Peter's at Rome 
(No. ;30), the dome of the Invalides at Paris (No. 104), the dome of the 
Pantheon at Paris (No. 110), the dome of St. Isaac's at St. Petersburg 
(No. 263), and the dome of the Capitol at Washington (No 286). The 
primary purpose of the designer in all these instances is the same, 
namely, to construct as the central feature of a pyramidal group a 
crux-tower, circular on plan, crowned with an outside dome for 
appropriate effect in external proportion, and occupied by an inside 
dome for appropriate effect in internal proportion. How are the two 
effects to be combined ? The elementary construction of a dome on 
scientific principles is very suggestively represented in the example at 
Mousta (No. 10). This w'ould be built of stone or brick, or an 
equivalent, and is, in fact, a strictly structural circular vault. In the 
East the self-same scientific object is accomplished with every facility 
in concrete. There is no reason why timber should not be employed in 
the form of exposed quadrantal ribs with a covering. So also iron, 


even cast iron, in the same forin of radiating riljs, could not be objected 
to on principle ; and it may Ijc remarked that the great conical iron 
roof of the Exhibition Building at Vienna is in every respect the more 
primiti\-e or simple counterpart of a dome, although without curvature. 
(That is to say, there is a series of iron rafters, converging from a 
circular sill at the bottom to the base of a circular lantern at the top, 
and braced at intervals by circular horizontal ribs, like the parallels of 
■ latitude and longitude of the geographers ; and it makes no difference 
{ in principle so far whether the rafters are cur\'ed or straight.) In all 
! these cases alike one of two general laws, or both combined, must be 
jl observed ; first, the artificial equilibration— unless the cur\'e be a 
I catenary — or the graduated dejith of the arch \'ertically (very distinctly 
shown in the Mousta dome) ; secondly, the efficient use of bond laterally 
(as most prominently exhilnted in the Vienna cone). The perfect mode 
of theoretical construction — and practical too perhaps — is the Oriental 
system, whereby the whole dome is made a solid in^■erted cup of 
concrete as artificial stone ; although, it need scarcely be said, if this cup 
is not in equilibration as regards its thickness throughout, the strains 
of the arch will find out any weak point and there Ijreak it if they 
can. Now if we turn to the St. Peter's dome — which followed the 
lead of the Duomo at Florence, another good example — Ave see two 
vaults, or w'e may prefer to say one vault with outer and inner shells. 
Chain bond has to be largely allowed for here, especially to carry the 
lantern, wliich of course loads the dome for the sake of appearance 
exactly where it ought not to be loaded for strength. But, artistically, 
the point to be noted is that the outer form coincides with the inner — ■ 
as it ought to do ; the outside surface and the inside surface are both 
equally legitimate to the dome ; and the slightly projecting peristyle 
around the base (the particular arrangement of the columns being 
only matter of taste) serves to add grace, as well as a little strength 
perhaps, to the structure. In the Mantua case (No. 16) the motive is 
so much simpler as to be in fact primitive, like the domes of the East ; 
the equilibration being elementary, and the disturbing load of the 
lantern insignificant. Turning next to the example of the Paris 
Invalides (No. 104), we see a vital diff'erence of treatment as compared 
with St. Peter's. The architect is not satisfied with the altitude of the 
interior dome for exterior effect, and he therefore superimposes a lofty 
roof of timber- work which is made of domical outline for the sake of 
form alone. The intermediate vault for decorative painting may fairly 
be taken as a legitimate part of the interior dome ; but the roof above, 
with its lantern, is palpably a make-l:)elie\'e, if we are to accept in any 
way the critical principle that the skin without ought to tell the story 
of the anatomy within. A purist like Street would have covered the 
tower with a plain conical roof to throw off the raui — as was frequently 
ione in Byzantine chm-ches — but the modern Italian tradition pointed to 


a dome-shaped roof, and here it is. No one would wish to deny its 
beauty of proportion, and indeed its preferableness in tliis respect to 
the dome of St. Peter's, which is considered to be disproportionately 
low. ^loreover, there are pi'oliably few who would admire equally in 
practice the simple .honesty of the plain Byzantin,' roof -covering. 
Plenty of examples also, are to be quoted of great square roofs, which 
are more or less unoccupied inside, especially in France. But, if it be 
admitted that this exterior dome of the Invalides is a roof-covering 
and notliing more, then the inquiry must close with tliis admission. 
The form of the roof-covering at last is clearly seen to be non- 
constructive, and a mere consideration of elegance — almost Uke the 
case of St. Mark's at Venice, where the outside domes rise like balloons 
for oO ft. above the structiu'al vaults within. Take next in order the 
dome of the Paris Pantheon (Xo. 11(V). This design is in external 
eflfect of similar motive, but in internal anatomy more justifiable^ 
The super-vault for the painter may probably be considered to fill the 
interior space sufficiently ; and the absence of timber-work may 
justify still more the design as a whole in respect of legitimate 
architectiu'al construction. But turn now to the case of St. Paul's 
(Xo 175). This design differs from all the foregoing in the most 
important particulars. The eye of the internal dome is 215 feet from 
the floor, which, as matter of proportion, is quite as much as the 
architect coidd be expected to manage well, if not more. For exterior 
proportion, however, he demands 55 feet more, besides 90 feet still 
more for a lantern and its crowning cross. The problem is hoAV to 
bring these widely different altitudes together ; and this is how it is 
solved. In the first place, a whole hemisphere — virtually the same as 
in the case of St. Mark's at Venice — must be built up somehow alcove 
the interior summit ; and this shall be done with timber- work as an 
elevated roof. But it is further determined that the lantern shall be 
of stone, in spite of its enormous dead-weight, and in spite also of its 
surmounting a balloon of timber-work. The ingenious contrivance is 
therefore resorted to of builduig up in concealment a vast cone of 
brickwork from the drum of the inner dome — itself conicalised to 
i-eceive it in a way which is not identifiable with any artistic motive — 
and by this hidden artifice a sufficient siqjport is at last achieved at 
the summit, on which to place the weight of the stone lantern. The 
further expenditure of ingenuity in forming the outside profile of the 
domical roof, with its drum and peristyle, in perfect want of accord 
with everything inside, may be judged of from the eugraAing ; and 
the critical question- — which need not shock our patriotism too much — - 
is, how to reconcile all this ingenuity with the artistic principle ofj 
anatomical truth. That the famous dome of St. Paul's is a tower,! 
and not properly a dome at all, may be said easily enough ; and that 
the altitude of it is admirably proportioned in the grouping is eiptally 


allowable ; but what shall wo say of the make-believe, or, in modern 
phrase, the sham ? Before answering this question for himself, 
however, let the patriotic reader console himself by referring- to the 
dome of St. Isaac's at St. Petersburg (No. 263), and that of the CajDitol 
of the United States at Washington (No. 286). In the case of St. 
Isaac's the reconciliation of the inner skull and the outer hat is boldly 
achieved by constructing a cone of cast-iron ribs, which has the iron 
frame-work of the interior vault attached to it belo^v, and the iron 
lantern imposed upon it above, the curvilinear roof, also of iron, being 
then put on the back of the cone. This is non-anatomical enough ; 
but what shall we say of the American example ? There we have the 
whole great visible pile (No. 286), l-tO feet in diameter at the base of 
the podium, 90 feet in diameter at the dome-roof, and 220 feet high 
from the general parapet level of the buildmg to the head of the 
crowning statue, literally all of iron, designed by the engineer to 
accommodate the architect's profile with a guileless audacity which 
leaves all other shams in the wide architectural world at an immeasur- 
able distance. In this instance, as in that of St. Paul's, it will be 
argued Ijy many that the external proportions amply pay for the dis- 
regard of anatomical virtue ; but the philosophy of architectural 
criticism will be held by others to reject such argument at all hazards, 

If the position of Sir Christopher "Wren as an architect were to be 
estimated solely from what he has done at St. Paul's, the result would 
probal)ly be, that his character would stand higher as a constructive 
than as an artistic architect. There are, however, two buildings close 
by, an examination of which must considerably modify this verdict 
The steeple of Bow Church is beyond all doubt the most elegant build- 
ing of its class erected since the Reformation ; and no Protestant 
church is more artistically or gracefully arranged than the interior of 
St. Stephen's, Walbrook. 

Like all Wren's steeples, that of Bow Church stands well on the 
ground ; for he never was guilty of the absurdity of placing his spires 
astride on the portico, or thrusting them through the roof. It consists 
first of a plain square tower 32 ft. 6 ii]. wide by 83 ft. in height, above 
wliich are four storeys averagnig 38 ft. each. The first, a square 
belfry, adorned with Ionic pilasters, is 39 ft. ; the next, which includes 
the beautiful circular peristyle of twelve Corinthian columns, is 37 : the 

\ third comprehends the small lantern, and is 38 ft. high, which is also 
the height of the spire, the whole making up a height of 235 ft. 

There are errors of detail which probably the architect himself 

j would have avoided in a second attempt, and, as they arose only from 
an imperfect knowledge of Classical details, might easily be remedied 
at the present day. It only wants this slight revision to harmonise 
what little incongruities remain, and, if it were done, this steeple 



Rook IV. 

might challenge comparison with any Gotliic example ever erected. 
Indeed, even as it now is, there is a play of light and shade, a variety 
of outline, and an elegance of detail, which it would be very difficult 
to match in any other steeple. There is no greater proof of Wren's 
genius than to obser\'e that, after he had set the example, not only 
has no architect since Jiis day sm-passed him, 
but no other modern steeple can compare with 
this, either for beauty of outline or the appro- 
priateness with which Classical details are 
applied to so novel a purpose. 

The interior of St. Stephen's, AValbrook, 
contains as much originality, and, as far as its 
architect Avas concerned, as much novelty, as the 
steeple of Bow. As remarked in a previous 
part of the work,^ the plan of placing a circular 
dome on an octagonal base, supported by eight 
pillars, was an early and long a favourite mode 
of roofing in the East, and the consequent 
variety obtained by making the diverging aisles 
respectively in the ratio of 7 to 10,^ infinitely 
more pleasing than the Gothic plan of doubling 
them, unless the height was doubled at the same 
time. Wren, however, is the oidy European 
architect who saw this, and availed himself of 
it ; and stranger still is it that, tiiough no 
church has been so much admired, no architect 
has eyev copied the arrangement. Had Wren 
ever seen an Indian building designed on tliis 
principle, he no doubt Avould have carried it 
further ; but as it is, he certainly has produced 
the most pleasing interior of any Renaissance 
church which has yet been erected. Like most 
of his works, it fails a little in the detail. 
There is too much of the feeling of Grinling 
GiV)])on's wood-carving carried into what should 
be constructive ornament ; but, notwithstanding 
this slight defect, there is a cheerfulness, an 
elegance, and appropriateness about the interior 
which pleases every one, and which might be carried even further, if 

It is extremely difficult for us to know now what influences were 
brought to bear on Wren in making his designs ; but it seems 
unaccountable that the architect who could design Bow steeple and 

177. Steeple of Bow Cbm-cli. 
Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. 

' History of Architecture,' vol. ii. p. 556. 

" More correctly 7 to 9'8. 


Chap. II. 



178. Plan of St. Ste- 
riliPii's, Walbiook. 
Scale ] 00 ft. to 1 in. 

the interior of St. Stephen's should have added to the former a church 

which is an ill-designed barn outside, and is paltry and o\erloaded to 

the last degree inside. Had he joined such an interior as that of St. 

Stej^hen's to his steeple in Cheapside, he would have 

produced a design that would have raised his character 

as an artist higher than anything he did at St. Paul's ; 

and had any architect the courage to do so now, with 

such modifications as would naturally suggest themselves, 

we might have a church as beautiful, and far more 

apjH'opriate to Protestant worship, than any of the Gothic 

designs recently erected. 

St. Bride's, Fleet Street, is another of Sir Christopher's 
most admired designs for a steeple. It wants, however, 
the poetry and the evidence of careful elaboration which 
characterise its rival of Cheapside. There is something common-place 
in the five upper storeys, each more or less a repetition of the one below 
it, and without any apparent connection. It is impossible to avoid the 
idea that they might all 
sink into one another, and 
shut up like the slides of a 
telescope. A console, a 
buttress, a sloping roof, — 
anything, in short — be- 
tween the storeys, would 
have remedied this ; and 
could so easily have been 
applied then — could, in- 
deed, now — that it is 
wonderful that some such 
expedient escaped the at- 
tention of so great and so 
constructive an architect. 
Wren conquered this difficulty with perfect success at Bow church, but 
all subsequent arcliitects have failed in reconciling the horizontal lines 
of Classical with the aspiring forms of Gotliic Art, and, as in the case of 
of St. Bride's, been unsuccessful in fusing together the two opposing 

Externally the church is not remarkable for anything but its 
simplicity and absence of pretension ; and internally the design is 
considerably marred by the necessity of introducing galleries on each 
side — a difficulty which no Classic or Gothic architect has yet fairly 
grappled with and conquered. Here the coupled columns which run 
through and sujiport the arches of the roof are amply sufficient for 
the purpose, and the dwarf pilasters that are attached to them to 
can-y the galleries tell the story with sufficient distinctness. But it 

j1 thr Illtcrinl- ,,1 St. MrpllLU': 

Scale 50 feet to 1 incb. 



Book IV. 

makes a very thick and lieavy pier below, wliich impedes \isioii move 
than is desirable, and the rear column that runs throutih the floor of 
the <i:allery has a very disjointed and awkward appearance. Xotwith- 
standing these defects, it is a well-lighted, commodious, and ap})r()priate 
Protestant church, which has seldom been sui'passed in these respects, 
unless it is by St. James's, Piccadilly, wliich is another and somewhat 
similar design by the same architect. 

The two are, as nearly as may be, of the same area — St. Bride's 
being 90 ft. long by 58 wide, St. James's SG by 07, which is more 
appropriate for an auditorium ; and the square pier which supports 
the gallery, and the single column that stands on it to cany the roof, 
is not only a more artistic, but a more convenient arrangement than 

View of tlie Intorior of St. Jamos's, Piccadilly. 

the other. Its greatest merit, however, is the mode in which the roof 
is constructed ; first as a piece of carpentry, but more as an appro- 
priate mode of getting height and light with a pleasing variety of 
form. After St. Stephen's, Wal brook, it is Wren's most successful 
interior ; and, though the church is disfigured liy a .hideous east 
window and an objectionable reredos, and many of its minor details 
are unpleasing, it is one of the very best interiors of its class that we 

There are few of Wren's other churches in the city of London 
which do not show some good points of detail — some ingenious means 
of getting over the difficulties of site or destination, and not one showing 
any faults of construction or useless display of unnecessary adjuncts ; 
but scarcely any of them are so remarkable as designs as to admit 


of I)L'iii,u' illustrated in a general history ; and, witliout illustrations, 
a mere enumeration of names and i)eculiarities is as tedious as it is 

Although Wren, like most of his (;ontem])oraries, affected to despise 
the style of our ancestors, he seems occasionally to ha\"e been subjected 
to the same kind of pressure as is sometinus a])]>lied to (Jotliic archi- 
tects at the ])resent day, and forced to build in what he considered the 
barbarian style. When this was the case, he cei'tainly showed to im- 
mense advantage ; for though the details of bis (iotliic works are 
always more or less open to criticism, the s})irit of his work was 
always excellent, and he caught the meaning of the Gothic design as 
truly as many of the most proficient of oui' li\ing architects have been 
able to do. 

One of the most successful of such designs is the tower of St. 
MichaeFs, Cornhill, which is exceedingly rich and bold. The chui'ch 
attached to it was one of Wren's best designs internally. Considering 
the difficulties iidiereut in the locality, which admitted of its behig 
lighted only from one side, it was as light and cheeiful as it was 
I elegant. Witliiu the last few years it has been converted into the 
bastard Italian (lothic, which is so great a favourite with some archi- 
tects, but which accords neithei- with the lo("ility nor the tower, 
nor those features of the church which it has been impossible to 
disguise. The result has been that Wren's work is entirely destroyed, 
and is rejjlaced by an interior whose prin('i])al characteiistic is a 
curious combination between tawdriness and gloom. 

A more successful design than exen St. Michaers was the spirt- of 
♦St. I)uiistan's-in-tlie-East, which, though not so strictly Medianal in 
its details as to attain perfection as a counteifeit, is still suflit^iently 
imitati\'e for effect ; and the spiiv, which ci'owiis the whole, rtisting on 
four an.'hes, possesses more elegance than the specimen at New("istle 
which is said to have suggested it. or than any other exami)les of this 
peculiar type which have come down to us from the Middle Ages. 

The western towers of Westminster Abbey are generally ascribed 
to AVren, and their proportions are ])erfect, though their details deviate 
more fr(jni the Gothic type tlian is the case with either of the exam])les 
last (juoted. If they are really his — though this is more than doubtful 
— this was a singular mistake for such an architect to make ; foi', 
being here joined to a really old fJothic builditig, the contrast is 
painfully apparent, and a more exact imitation would have been most 

The tower which Wren added to the parish church at Warwick is 
another example of how he caught the spirit while despising the 
details of the style. At a distance it seems one of the best-propor- 
tioned Gothic towers that can l)e found. On a close examination the 
details are all so completely Classic that, whether it is from the 

VOL. II. p; 


prejudices of education or any real or essential incongruity, we are 
offended at having been cheated into admiration, and feel inclined to 
put the whole down as a specimen of bad taste. 

Besides the churehes which he built. Wren had the good fortune 
to be called upon to erect more Royal palaces than any architect since 
Ms day ; but lie was far from being so successful with them as with 
his ecclesiastical buildings. 

That which he erected at "Winchester is little better than a great 
brick barrack, to which purpose it is now most appropriately ajiplied. 
It possesses a portico of six Corinthian columns in the centre, and 
some very attenuated specimens of the same family in the angles, 
which are an attic taller than those they flank ; but neither seem to 
belong to the building to which they are attached. 

He was more- successful at Hampton Court, though here the base- 
ment is too low, especially in the courtyard ; and the dignity of the 
^'' bel etage " is destroyed by the circular windows over the principal 
ones, and, where Orders are introduced, they are merely as orna- 
ments, and overpowered by the attic that cro\\iis them. The great 
merit of this design is its largeness, and being devoid of all affecta- 
tion. From the possession of the first quality, it contrasts fa^■oura1)ly 
with Wolsey's palace, to which it is attached. Neither is of the best 
age of its peculiar style, nor perhaps the best of its age ; but there is 
a littleness and confusion al)out the Gothic, as compared Avith the 
simplicity and grandeur of the Classic, which is altogether in favour 
of the latter. When, however, the earlier design is looked into, it 
displays an amount of thought and adaptation to its uses which is 
wholly wanting in the Classic. Wren's design looks as if it could 
have been made in a day, — Wolsey's bears the impress of long and 
patient thought applied during the whole time it was in execution ; 
and though, therefore, the conception of the first is grander, the 
ultimate impression derived from the latter is more satisfactory and 
more permanent. 

The less said about Chelsea Hospital the better. It would not be 
easy to find a worse building of the same dimensions anywhere ; but 
the architect's fame is redeemed by what he did at Greenwich. The 
two rear blocks are certainly from his designs, and are not only of 
great elegance in themselves, but group most happily with the two 
other blocks nearer the river, the design and the partial execution of 
which belong to an earlier period. 

As before mentioned, one of Wren's earliest works was the 8hel- 
donian Theatre at Oxford ; and though externally it does not possess 
any great dignity, the facade is elegant and approjiriate, and the 
introduction of any larger features w^ould have been inappr()2>riate 
and not in accordance with the two ranges of windows and other 
features which the necessities of the building required in other parts. 

Chap. II. 



The roof was justly considered to be in that age a perfect masterpiece 
of scientific carpentry, covering an area 70 ft. by 80, without any 
support. The whole interior is arranged so scientifically, and with 
such judgment, that a larger number of persons can see and hear in 
this hall than in any similar building in the United Kingdom ; and, 
why, consequently, neither Wren nor any one else ever thought of 
adapting its peculiarities to Church Architecture is not easy to 

The Liln-ary at Trinity College in the sister University is an 
equally successful though a far easier design. Practically it is not 
unlike the recently-erected Library of St. Genevieve at Paris, which 
is so much admired (Woodcut No. l-I-i), except that there the lower 
storey is occupied by books, — at Cambridge by an open cloister, but 

181 >;eville's Coun and Library, Trinity College, Cambridge. From a Photograph. 

which no doubt the architect meant to be used as an extension, if ever 
more books were requii'ed by the College authorities. Xot only is the 
upper storey well arranged and well lighted for the purpose for which 
it was intended, but externally it is a remarkably pleasing and appro- 
priate design. The effect towards the courtyard is very much spoiled 
by the floor of the library being Ijrought down as low as the springing 
of the arches of the arcade which supports it. Had the scale been 
sufficient, it would have been easy to remedy this defect by intro- 
ducing smaller pillars to support the floor ; but, there not l)eing room, 
all that is done is to block up the tops of the arches, and it looks as 
if the floor had sunk to that extent ; the whole design being charac- 
teristic of Wren's ingenuity and good taste, ])ut also of his want of 
knowledge of the artistic principles of design. 

E 2 


It is singular tliat the architect of these two buildings should ever 
have erected anything so commonplace as the College of Physicians 
in Warwick Lane ; but it is just this inequality that is so puzzling in 
Wren's designs, — as, for instance, the Monument at London Bridge is 
one of the most successful and most Classical columns which have 
been erected in Europe, though their name is Legion ; but Temple 
Bar is, perhaps, the most unsuccessful attempt that ever was made to 
reproduce a Classical triumphal archway. Had Wren been regularly 
educated as an arcliitect, or had he thoroughly mastered the details of 
the style he was using, as Liigo Jones had done, most of these incon- 
gruities would have been avoided : and there is no reason for supposing 
"that such an education would have cramped his genius : — on 
the contrary, every reason for believing that a perfect knowledge of 
his tools would have enabled him to work with more facility, and to 
avoid those errors which so frequently mar the best of liis designs, 
and, it may be added, must inevitably vitiate the designs of any man 
who is practising an art based on false principles, and depending for 
its perfection on individual talent, and not on the immutable laws of 

Though he did fail sometimes, it cannot be denied that Wren was 
a giant in Architecture, and, considering the difficulties he had to 
contend with, not only from the age in which he lived, but from the 
people he had to deal with, and the small modicum of taste or know- 
ledge that prevailed anywhere, we may well be astonished at what he 
did accom])lish that was good, rather than wonder at his occasional 
failures. His greatest praise, however, is, that though he showed the 
way and smoothed the path, none of his successors have surpassed — if, 
indeed, any have equalled— liim in what he did, though a century and 
a half have now elapsed since his death, and numberless opportunities 
have since been afforded in every department of Architectural Art. 



Anne 1702 i George II 172T 

Geurge I ■ .. .. 17.4 ! George III 1760 

The history of Architecture in Engiaiid during the eighteenth 
century, if not characterised by anything so briliant as the career 
of eitlier Jones or Wren, is marked in the beginning by the daring 
originality of Vanbrugli, and closes with the correct Classicality of 
Chambers. It is also interesting to watch during its closing years 
the gradual bifurcation of styles which has since divided the pro- 
fession into two hostile camps, following principles diametrically 
opposed to each other, and, in their angry haste, diverging fm'ther 
and further from the true princijiles which alone can lead to any 
satisfactory result in Ai-t. 

The two men who succeeded to Wren's practice and position — 
Hawksmoor ^ and Vanbrugh ^ — were both born in the " Annus Mira- 
bilis" (1666), which made the name and fortune of their great proto- 
tyi^e. The former was his friend and pupil, and, in some instances at 
least, employed to carry out his designs. From what we know of the 
pupil's own works, we may almost certainly assert that the double 
spires of All Souls' College at Oxford were designed by the master. 
Tl.ey display the same intimate appreciation of the essential qualities 
of Gothic Art, combined with the same disregard of its details, which 
characterise the towers at Warwick or in Cornhill and Wren's Gothic 
work generally ; but in so far as poetry of conception or beauty of 
outline is concerned, they are infinitely preferable to most of the 
portals erected in Oxford even during the best age, and far sm-pass 
any of the very correct productions of the present day. 

Hawksmoor was also the architect of St. George's, Bloomsbm-y, 
which is remarkable as one of the earliest of the churches with 
porticoes which became afterwards so fashionable. The portico here 
consists of six well-proportioned Corinthian pillars ; but instead of 
pilasters at the back, he has used half -columns, which look as if they 
had by mistake been built into the wall, thus adding to the appear- 

' Born 1666; died 1736. - Born 1666; died 1726. 


ance of uselessness these adjuncts usually suggest. The spire, which 
we are told is intended to realise Pliny's description of the Mausoleum 
at Halicarnassus, has at least the merit of standing on one side ; and, 
if the houses were cleared away a little, so as to admit of its being 
seen, the whole would form as picturesque a group as almost any church 
in London. 

St. Mary's Woolnoth, in Lombard Street, is another church by 
the same architect, but in a yery different style. Here the effect is 
sought to be attained by bold rustication and massiye forms. All the 
forms are original, and to them the Classical details are entirely 
subordinated. Internally the lighting is principally from the roof, 
and ^'ery successful for a church of this size, though the mode ui 
which it is introdticed is such as would hardly be appUcable to one on a 
larger scale. 

He built also the now celebrated church of St. George's-in-the- 
East, from the design of wliich almost eyery trace of Classicality has 
disappeared, and where the effect is sought to be obtained by grand 
massiyeness of form and detail, accompanied by well-marked, and, 
it must be admitted, perfectly intelligible, distribution of the yarious 
parts of the composition. The result, howeyer, is far from being 
satisfactory ; and the term yulgar expresses more correctly the effect 
produced than perhaps any other epithet that could be applied to it. 

It shows how unsettled men's minds were in matters of taste at 
this period, that an architect should have produced tlii'ee such chm'ches 
so utterly dissimilar in principle : the one meant to be an exact repro- 
duction of Heathen forms ; another pretending to represent what a 
Protestant chiu'ch in the beginning of the eighteenth century should 
be, AyhoUy freed from Classical allusions ; and the thu'd intermediate 
between the two, original in form, and only allowing the Classical 
details to peer through the modem design as ornaments, l>ut not as 
essential parts of it. It is eyident that no jirogrCoS was to be hoped for 
in stich a state of matters, and that the balance must before long turn 
steadily towards either originality or towards seryility. 

"Whether Sir John Yanbrugh deriyed his loye of ponderosity from 
the Dutch blood that is said to haye flowed in his yeins, or from some 
accident of taste or education, it was at least innate and oyerpowering. 
"VYhateyer his other fatilts may haye been, Yanbrugh had at least the 
merit that he knew what he wanted : — whether it was right or wrong 
is another question ; — and he knew also how to reach what he aimed 
at. He neyer faltered in his career ; and from first to last — at Blen- 
heim and Castle Howard, as at Seaton Delayal and Grimsthorpe — there 
is one principle running through all liis designs, and it was a Ayorthy 
one — a lofty aspiration after grandeur and eternity. In a better age 
this might haye led to infinite success ; and eyeu in his, if applied to 


Chap. III. 



the construction of mausolea or temples, where accommodation was 
not of importance, lie would certainly have surpassed all his. compeers. 
But fate decreed that he should only build palaces or country seats, 
and the result has been a certain amount of gloomy grandeur, coupled 
with something that looks very like pretentious vulgarity. 

Blenheim was to Sii' John Vanbrugh what St. Paul's was to Wren 
— the great opportunity of his life, and the work by which he will be 
judged and his name handed down to posterity. Of the two, perhaps 
Tanbrugli's chance was the best. To build a monumental palace in a 
noble park, on such a scale, and l)acked by the nation's purse, was 
at least as grand an occasion as to erect a metropolitan cathedral, 
hampered as Wren was by liturgical difficulties and critical nobodies. 

S2. Plan of Blenheim Palace. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch 

At first sight Yanbrugh would seem to ha^•e been quite equal to 
•the task. Xothing can well be grander than his plan and the general 
conception of the whole. There is a noble garden front, 323 ft. in 
extent, flanked on one side by the private apartments, on the other by 
a noble library 182 ft. in length, and an entrance fagade with wings, 
curvhig forward so as to lead up to the grand entrance ; and beyond 
these, great blocks of buildings containhig the offices, &c., all forming 
part of the design, and extendhig to 850 ft. east and west. In de- 
signing his elevation he avoided all the faults that can be charged 
against VersaiUes, wliich was then the tjqiical palace of the day, 
as well as the tameness which his predecessor had introduced at 
Winchester "and at Hampton Court ; yet with all this, Blenheim 
cannot be called successful. The principal Order is so gigantic as to 
dwarf everything near it ; and as it every\\-here covers two storeys, it 
is always seen to be merely an ornament. In the entrance-front 



Book IV. 

especially there is such a confusion of lines and parts as to destroy that 
repose so essential to grandeur, while the details are too large to admit 
of their being picturesque ; and though the sky-line is pleasingly 
broken, it is by fantastic and not by constructive elements. If we 
add to all this that the details are always badly drawn, and generally j, 
capriciously applied, it will be easy to understand how even so grand a 
design may be marred. I 

The design of the Park front is much more successful than that of : 
the entrance fagade, its outline being simple and grand, and the angles ' 
well-accentuated l)y the square tower-like masses which terminate j 
them on either hand ; its one defect being the gigantic Order of 
the centre, wMch is as inappropriate as Michael Angelo's Order at 1 

Lesser Garden Front, Bkiiheim. Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. 

St. Peter's, and producing the same dwarfing and vulgarising effect 
Perhaps the happiest jDart of the whole are the two lateral facades, 
each lit2 ft. in extent. Their details may be a little too large and 
too coarse for Domestic Architecture, but the proportions are good, 
the ornaments appropriate to their situation, and the outline pleasingly 
broken. Their blemish is the want of apparent connection between 
the rusticated towers at the angles and the plain centre between them. 
Had the lower story of the centre been rusticated, or the rustication 
been omitted from the upper storey of the towers, it would have been 
easy to bring them into accordance ; as it is, they hardly seem parts of 
the same design. 

Internally the hall is too high for its other dimensions ; and the 
library, w^hich is the finest room in the house, is destroyed by the 
bigness and coarseness of the details. Altogether the palace looks as 
if it had been designed by some Brobdingnagian architect for the 

Chap. III. 



residence of their little Gulliver. There are many things that recall the 
fact that it is meant for the residence of men of ordinary stature, and 
as many which make us wonder why an attempt should be made to 
persuade us that the inhabitants were giants. 

Castle Howard is the next in importance of Vanbrugh's works, 
and, though erected about the same time, is a far more successful 
design than Blenheim. In plan it is somewhat similar, and looks 
almost as extensive ; but being only one storey high over the greater 
part, it is in reality much smaller ; and its defects arise principally 
from the fact that Vanbrugh seems to have had no idea of how to 
ornament a building except by the introduction of an Order, and to 
ha\e had the greatest horror of placing one Order over another ; hence 
thf incongruity of his designs. If the Order of the centre is of the 
l)roper proportion, that of the wings must be too smaU, as the one 

.^J^^^•--^Ji^■ ^:^ill^■.-lii§^•'■^■^^ 

Elevation of Park Front of Castle Howard. 

jOrder is as nearly as may be double the height of the other, though 
tthey are used precisely in the same manner ; while from the position 
and size of the windows we cannot help perceiving that the rooms are 
of the same height throughout. At Castle Howard the whole design 
is much soberer and simpler than that of Blenheim, The cupola in 
the centre gi^■es dignity to the wdiole, and breaks the sky-line much 
more pleasingly than the towers of the other palace. The wings and 
■offices are more subdued ; and on the whole, with all Vanbrugh's 
grandeur of conception, it has fewer of his faults than any other of 
bis designs ; and, taking it all in all, it would be difficult to point out 
a more imposing country-house possessed by any nobleman in England 
than this palace of the Howards. 

He was much less successful in his smaller designs, such as Seaton 
Delaval, Eastbnry, or Grimsthorpe, as in these the largeness of the 
parts and the coarseness of the details become perfectly offensive from 
bhe comparative smallness of the objects to which they were applied ; 



Book IY. 

and, had we only these to jndii'c from, we mif!,ht prononnce him to be a 
successful playwiight, but certainly no architeot. Castle Howard and 
Blenheim redeem him from any such reproach, but it can hardly be 
said that even there he was efjual to his opportunities, which were 
such as seldom f ill to the share of an architect in this countrA'. 

Contemporary with these men was Colin Campbell, a man of no 
genius or originality, but of consideral)le taste, as is sliown by his o^^^l 
designs, published in the 'Vitruvius Britannicus,' which prove at all 
events that he had sufficient sense to apjjreciate and thoroughly to 
understand the principles of Inigo Jones's school. The patrons of 
Architecture in that age seem, however, to have fancied that they had 
progressed beyond that stage ; and as porticoes had become the fashion, 
nothing would go down without one. In Campbell's designs they are 
used with as much propriety and taste as the feature is well capable of, 
as applied to a dwelling-house ; and he may be said to have fixed the 
Amresbury type as the mansion of the eighteenth century. 

185. Front Elevation of Wanstead House. 

His most celebrated production was Wanstead House, ^^■hich was 
long considered as the most perfect example of the class of porticoed 
houses. Though its design is certainly a mistake, still, if once people 
get imbued with the idea that a portico means nothing, but that it is 
so beautiful an object in itself that they are willing their windows 
should be inconveniently darkened in order that they may enjoy the 
dignity it confers, a portico may go anywhere, and be of any size 
required, but it will never cease to be an offence against all the best 
principles of architectural design. 

The extent of the front at Wanstead was very nearly the same as 
that of Castle Howard (about 300 ft.) ; but when we compare the two 
it must be confessed that even the bad taste of Vanbrugh is infinitely 
preferalile to the tameness of Campbell. His design is elegant, but no 
one cares to look at it a second time ; and though it certainly does not 
offend, it can hardly be said to please. 

Kent^ was another rather famous architect, of about the same 

' Born 1681; died 1748. 

Cn.KF. III. 



c;ilLl)re as Campbell ; i»ut, fortunately for him, he was a friend of the 
Earl of Burlington, who was a man of taste and skilled in Architecture, 
so that it is difficult to know on the one hand how mucli of his designs 
should be assigned to the Earl, and on the other how far the Earl may 
have been assisted by the practical knowledge of his dependant. 
Between them they refronted Burlington House, in a manner worthy 
of the best Italian architects of an earlier day, and with the semi- 
circular colonnade in front, and the various adjuncts, made it the most 
elegant and artistic of all the town mansions of its time, though hardly 

186. The North Front of the Treasury Buildings, as designed by Kent. 

The central portion only has been executed. 

justifying all the praise that was lavished on it at the time.^ Between 
them also they probably designed the northern Park front of the 
Treasury Buildings at Whitehall, which, if completed, would be more 
worthy of Inigo Jones than anything that has been done ther* since his 
time. The only design that we know to be his own is that of the Horse 

' At present it is only remarkable as au 
example to show how easy it is to desti'oy 
even the best buildings by ill judged 
additions or alterations ; an upjjer storey 
has been added, more solid and witli au 
Order taller than that on which it stands, 
so as utterly to crush what was the piano 
nohile of the building ; though there are 
fifty expedients by which this might have 
been avoided without any sacrifice of con- 
venience. As if this were not enough, 
when a glass-roofed porch was wanted to 
shelter visitors to their exhibition, the 
Academicians, instead of using the lightest 
possible forms of stone-work — or iron, 

which would have been better — liave 
borrowed a fa9ade of the heaviest rusti- 
cated masonry from some Italian casemate 
of the eighteenth century, to support 
their glass frames. Not only is this au 
absurditj' in itself, but it has cut oft' the 
lower parts and practically shortened the 
columns of the principal storey, already 
rendered insignificant by what was placed 
upon them. 

The consequence of all this is, that 
what a few years ago was one of the most 
elegant, is now one of the very worst 
ai'chitectural examples of the metr()])i)lis. 



Book IV. 

Guards, which narrowly escaped heing a very pleasing design, and at 
the time it was erected must have looked much better than it does, 
being now crushed by the larger and more important buildings on 
either hand. Its worst feature is the cupola, which is lean and 
insignificant to the last degree, but otherwise the design is varied and 
pictures(]ue, and free from most of the errors and faults of the age in 
which it was erected. The design, however, would l)e more appropriate 
to a country seat of a nobleman than to that of a public building on one 
of the most favoured sites in the metropolis. 

Whether it was that he was more fortunate, or that he had more 

Interior View of St. Martiu',s-iii-tlie- Fields 

genius, than the two last-named architects, James Gibbs^ produced two 
buildings which gave liim a higher position among the artists of his 
country than they can aspire to. 

The first of these is the Church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, wliich 
is certainly one of the finest, if not the handsomest church of its age 
and class. The hexastyle portico of Corinthian columns, 33 ft. in 
height, and two iutercolumniations deep, is as perfect a reproduction of 
that Classical feature as can well be made ; and the mode in which the 
pilasters are repeated all round suggests a Classical temple to a very 
considerable extent, if we can persuade ourselves not to observe the 
two storeys of windows between them, which, however, mar the effect 

' Boru IGT-i ; died 175i. 




consick'i-ably. Internally it is a combination of Sir Christopher Wren's 
arrangement for St. Bride's and St. James's ; bnt overdone, and with 
the nsnal objectionable featnre of a fragment of an entablature placed 
over each column before receiving the arch. This, as before remarked, 
is frequently seen in Spain, or in Italy in the worst days of the Art, 
though very rarely in France : but wherever it is introduced it is fatal.^ 
It must also be added that the ornamentation of the roof throughout is 
overdone, and not in good taste. Externally, the great defect of the 
design is the mode in Avhich the spire — in itself not objectionable — is 
set astride on the portico. Not only does it appear unmeaningly stuck 
through the roof, but, over so open a portico, has a most crushing- 
and inharmonious effect. Had it lieen placed alongside, as at Blooms- 
bury, for which the situation is singularly favourable, not only would 
the church have reached more nearly the Classical effect to which 
it was aspiring, but the whole composition would have been ^'ery much 

Gibbs's other great work was the Radcliffe Library at Oxford. He 
perhaps cannot be congratulated on his choice of a circular or domical 
form for the purpose ; but if his employers were willing to sacrifice 
the lower storey wholly for the sake of giving height to the building, 
and consented to the adoption of a form by Avhich hardly more than 
half the accommodation was obtained that might otherwise have 
been the case, he perhaps was not to blame, as in so doing he has 
produced one of the most striking, and perhaps the most pleasing, 
of the Classical buildings to be found in Oxford. Its great fault 
is that nothing in the design in the least degree indicates the 
purpose to which it was to be applied ; and even after all the 
sacrifices made for effect, he was obliged to introduce two ranges 

' Had the arcliitects ouly 
had the sense to turn the 
fragment topsyturvy, it 
would theu have been con- 
structively correct. It would, 
in fact, have become the 
Moorish horseshoe arch, and, 
■with a very slight moditi- 
cation of detail, might have 
lost much of its offensive 
character, while it would 
have ranged as well with 
anything on the wall. Of 
course any feature invetited 
for the place would have 
been better tliau either; but 
• if Classical features must be 
used, it :s best that it should 
be done so that they shall 
lie as constructive as the 
form will admit of. 

Diagram showing the effect of reversing the entablature 
in a pillar. 



189. Iladcliffe Library, Oxford. 1-rum a riiutograpli. 

of windows between the columns. The proportions, however, of the 
whole are good, the details appropriate to their places, and well 
drawn, so that the building has a monumental and elegant look of 
which its architect might well be proud. 

The most successful architect of the latter half of the eighteenth 
centary was Sir William Chambers,^ and he Avas fortunate hi having 
an opportunity of displaying his talents in the erection of Somerset 
House, which was undoubtedly the greatest architectural work of the 
reign of George the Third. 

The best part of the design is the north or Strand front, which i^ 
an enlarged and improved copy of a part of the old palace built bj 
Inigo Jones,2 and pulled down to make way for the new buildings. 

I Born 1726; died 1796. 

= This has a second time been more literally reproduced in the Coimtj' Fire Office,j 
Eesrent Street. 

Chap. III. 



The width of this front is lo2 ft., its height G2, or nearly one half, and 
it consists of a bold rusticated basement storey more than 25 ft. in 
height, supporting a range of three-quarter Corinthian columns, wliich 
are designed and modelled with the utmost purity and correctness ; 
but we can hardly help regretting that two storeys of windows should be 
included in this Order. The arrangement, however, is. so usual and 
so tlioroughly Enghsli, that, from habit, it ceases to become offensive ; 
and where the whole is treated with such taste, as in this instance, it 
seems almost unobjectionable. The three arches in the centre, which 
form the entrance into the courtyard, occupy quite as much of the 
facade as ought to be appropriated to this purpose, and constitute a 
sufficiently dignified approach to the courtyard beyond. 

^^Vl^ .^~T 

Southern Fii9ade of the Northern portkiu of Somerset House. 

The south front of this portion of the structure is also extremely 
pleasing ; it is so broken as to give great play of light and shade, thus 
preventing either the details or number of parts from appearing too 
small for the purposes to which they are applied. The great areas, 
too, to the right and left of the entrance, are an immense advantage, as 
they allow the two sunk storeys to be added to the height of the whole. 

The same praise cannot be awarded to the other sides of the court, 
which consist of blocks of building of 277 and 224: ft. respectively, 
and, being under oU ft. in height, are proportionately much lower than 
the entrance-block just described, and far too low for their length. 
They are besides treated with a severity singularly misai^plied. 
Except small spaces in the centre and at the extremities, the whole is 


rusticated, even above the level of the upper windows. Such a mode 
of treatment might be excusable in an exterior of bold outline, though, 
even then, hardly in conjunction with a Corinthian Order ; but a court- 
yard is necessarily a mezzo-termine between a room and an exterior, 
and it would generally be more excusable to treat it as if it might be 
roofed over, and so converted into an interior, than to design it with 
the cold severity which is so offensive here. 

The river front, however, was Chambers's great opportunity : l»ut it 
unfortunately shows how little he was equal to the task he had under- 
taken. To treat a southern facade nearly 600 ft. in extent, in the same 
manner as he had treated a northern one only 132 ft. long, would 
have been about as great a blunder as an architect ever made. In 
order to produce the same harmony of effect, he ought to have exagge- 
rated the size of the parts in something like the same proportion : but 
instead of this, both the basement and the Order are between one-third 
and one-fom-th less than those of the Strand front, though so similar as 
to deceive the eye. As if to make this capital defect even more appa- 
. rent than it would otherwise have been, he placed a terrace 4(;) ft. wide, 
and of about two-thirds of the height of his main building, in front of it. 

It is thus no wonder that it looks hardly as liigh, and is not more 
dignified than a terrace of private houses in the Regent's Park, or 
elsewhere. Tl^s is the more inexcusable, as he had 100 ft. of elevation 
available from the water's edge, without adding one inch to the height of 
his buildings, which was more than sufficient for architectural effect, if 
he had known how to use it. Even with the terrace as it is, if he had 
brought forward the wings, only to the edge of the ten-ace, and thrown 
his centre back 50 or 100 ft., he would have improved the court im- 
mensely,^ and given variety and height to the river front, and then, 
either with a cupola or some higher feature in the centre, the worst 
defects of the building might have been avoided. 

It w^as evident, however, that the imagination of Chambers could 
rise no higher than the conception of a square, unpoetic mass ; and, 
although he was one of the most correct and painstaking architects 
of his century, we cannot regret that he was not employed in any 
churches of importance, and that the nobility do not seem to have 
patronised him to any great extent. He had evidently no grasp of 
mind or inventive faculty, and little knowledge of the principles of 
Art beyond what might be gathered from the works of Vignola and 
other writers with regard to the use of the Orders. This may produce 
correctness, but commoniDlace designs can be the only result, and this 
is really all that can be said of the works of Sir William Chambers. 

' A somewhat similar treatment to that 
here indicated, was some years ayo ap- 
plied to the western fac/ade by Sir James 

Pennethorno, with the happiest result, 
though, even in that limited fa(,'ade, thej 
Order is too low for its jjosition. 

Chap. III. 



The architects who, in the hitter half of the eighteenth ccntnrj, 
enjo}'ed the patronage of the nol)iHty to the greatest extent, were the 
brothers Adam, who, after the publication by Robert^ of his great 
work on Spalatro, acquired a repute for a knowledge of Classical Art 
which their buildings by no means justified, as in this respect they 
were certainly inferior even to Chambers. Their great merit — if merit 
it be — is, that they stamped their works with a certain amount of 
originality, which, had it been of a better qtiality, might have done 
something to emancipate Art from its trammels. The principal 
characteristic of their style was the introduction of very large windows, 
generally without dressings. These they frequently attempted to group, 


View of the principal Fa9ade uf the Cullcge, Edinburgh. 

thi-ee or more together, by a great glazed arch over them, so as to try 
and make the whole side of a house look like one room ! And when 
they did use Classical Orders or ornaments, they were of the thinnest 
and most tawdry class. The facade of the Assembly Rooms at Glasgow 
is one of the very best specimens of then- style, and freer from its 
defects than most of their designs. In London, there is the Adelphi, so 
called from being the creation of the foiu- brothers, and two sides of 
Fitzroy Square, where aU their peculiarities come into play. They also 
designed Portland Place and Finsbtuy Sipiare, in the latter of which 
their peculiar mode of fenestrations is painfully apparent. 

> Born 1728; died 1792. 




Book IV. 

The most important pul)lic building intrusted to their care was the 
College at Edinburgh, the rebuilding of which was commenced in 
1789, from a design by Robert Adam. Only the entrance front, how- 
ever, measuring 255 ft. north and south, was completed in their day. 
The central court was added about forty years ago, from a design by 
Playfair. The part erected by Adam is four storeys in height, without 
the least attempt at concealment, and with a cornice at the top, the 
only fault of which is, that it is not sufficiently bold for its position. 

The centre is pierced by three bold arches ; those on the sides are 
each of them adorned by two monolithic pillars of the Doric Order, 
measuring 26 ft. in height. The whole composition of the centre 
is bold and ornamental, without any feature so gigantic as to crush the 

Ground Plan of Keddlestone Hall. From tlie ' Vitruvius Britannicus.' 

wings or to overpower the other parts. It is, unfortunately, situated 
in so narrow a street, that it can nowhere be jjroperly seen : and it 
wants a little more ornament to catch the eye. But we possess few 
public buildings presenting so truthful and so well-balanced a design as 
tliis, and certainly the Adams never erected anything else which was 
nearly so satisfactory. 

Among the country houses which they built, perhaps their most 
successful production is Keddlestone, in Derbyshire, chiefly remarkable 
for the pleasing manner in whicli four great l)locks of buildings, which 
form the wings, are joined to the centre by semicircular colonnades, 
copied afterwards in the Government House at Calcutta. In other 
respects the design is according to the usual recipe — a hexastyle 
Corinthian portico, standing on a rusticated basement, with three 

Chap. III. 



large and three bedroom windows on each side, but witli the puzzliiioj 
pecuHarity of having no windows in the centre on either face, the hall 
being lighted entirely from the roof, and the only communication 
between the two sides of the house upstairs being hj a concealed 
passage under the roof of the portico.^ 

Harewood House, in Yorkshire, by Carr of York, is a far better, 
because a more honest and straightforward specimen, of these porticoed 
houses of the last century. They are, in fact, so numerous and so 
thoroughly English and aristocratic, that one is inchned to overlook 
then defects of style in consequence of their respectability and the 
associations they call up. It is much more satisfactory to contemplate 
their easily understood arrangements than the ingenious puzzle of 
such a design as that of Holkham, where we are left to conjecture 
whether the noble host and hostess sleep in a bedroom 40 ft. high, or 
are relegated, like their guests, to a garret or an outhouse, or perhaps 

Portion of the Garden Front of Keddlestone Hall. 

may have their bedroom windows turned inwards on a lead flat. All 
this may suffice to display the perverse ingenuity of the architect in 
trymg to produce a monumental whole ; but both the proprietor and 
his guests would in the long run probably prefer rooms of appropriate 
dimensions, and so situated as to enjoy the view of the scenery of the 
park, or the fresh breezes of heaven. 

There were probably at least a couple of hundred of these great 
manorial mansions erected in England and Scotland during the course 
of the eighteenth century : — more than one hundred are described and 
illustrated in the 'Vitruvius Britannicus.' Nine-tenths of them are of 
stone ; one-half at least have porticoes ; and all have pretensions to 
architectural design in one form or other. Yet among the whole of 

' Dr. Johnson's description of this 
buildiiin: conveys as coirect an idea of its 
pi culiaritie-i as can wel! he found any- 
where. " It would," he say:<, " do excel- 
lently well for a town-hall. The large 
room with the pillars would do for the 
judges to sit in at the a.-size-, the circular 
room for a juiy-cliamber, and the room 

above for prisoners." Boswell continues: 
"He thought the large room ill-lighted, 
and of no use but for dancing in; the 
bed-chambers but indifferent rooms ; and 
that the immense sum the bouse had cost 
was injudiciously laid cut." — BoswtlVs 
Johnson, anno 1777. 

F 2 



Book IV 

tliem there is not one which will sttind comparison for a moment 
with the grandenr of the Florentine palaces, the splendonr of those of 
Eome, or the elegance of those of Venice. Theii' style is the same, 
their dimensions are equal, their situations generally superior ; but 
from one cause or other they have all missed the effect intended to be 
produced, and not one of them can now be looked upon as an entirely 
satitjfactory specimen of Architectural Art. 

Robert Taylor^ was the architect who made a larger fortune than 
any of his professional brethren at the end of the last century, though, 
judging from his buildings at the Bank of England and elsewdiere, 
there was very little in his art to justify the patronage that was 
bestowed on him. In this respect he seems to have been inferior to 
the city architect, Dance, who, in the Mansion House, produced a 
building, not certainly in the purest taste, but an effective and 
gorgeous design : and, before it lost the two crowning masses which 

Facade of Holkham House. 

carried the building to a height over 100 ft., it really stood proudly 
and well out of the surrounding masses. His chef-d'oeuvre, however, 
was the design for the prison at Newgate, wdiich, though only a 
prison, and pretending to be nothing else, is still one of the ])est 
public buildings of the metropolis. 

It attained this emuience by a process which amounts as nnich to 
a discovery on the part of its architect as Columljus's celebrated 
invention of making an egg stand on its end. By simply setting 
his mind to think of the purposes to which his building was to be 
appropriated, without tmrning aside to think of Grecian temples or 
(rothic castles, a very second-rate architect produced a very perfect 
l)uilding. There is nothing in it but two great windowless blocks, 
each 1)0 ft. square, and between them a very commonplace gaoler's 
residence, five windows wide, and five storeys liigh, and two simple 
entrances. With these slight materials, he has made up a fagade 
297 ft. in extent, and satisfied every requisite of good architecture. 
If any architect would only design a church or palace on the same 
principles on which old George Dance designed Newgate, or as an 

> IJorn 1714; died 1788. 

Chap. III. 



eiio;ineer designs a bridge, he would be astonished to find how simple 
the art of Ai'chitectnre is, and how easy it is to do right, and how 
diflficnlt to do wrong, when honestly bent on expressing the trnth, 
and the truth only. From what we know of Dance's character, we 
are led to suspect tlmi it may have been mere ignorance that led him 
to do right on this occasion, but it was just this amount of ignorance 
!| which enabled every village architect in every part of England to 
produce those perfect churches which our cleverest and best educated 
architects find difficulty in copying, and scarcely even dream of 

Front Elevation of Newgate. 



With the commencenieiit of the present century a new feeling came 
over the spirit of architectural design, which, as suggested above, it 
may be convenient to distinguish by the name of Revival ; inasmuch 
as it differs essentially from the principles that guided the architects 
of the Renaissance. 

St. Peter's and St. Paul's, though using Classical details, and these 
only, are still essentially Christian churches ; the Escurial and Ver- 
sailles are the residences of kings of the age in which they were 
built, and do not pretend to be anything else. No one could ever 
mistake St. Peter's for a Roman Temple ; and Versailles is as unlike 
the Palace of the Cfesars as any two buildings could well be ; and 
so it is throughout the three centuries during which the Renaissance 
was practised. But the Walhalla pretends to be an absolute and 
literal reproduction of the Parthenon ; so does the Madeleine of a 
Roman Temple ; and the architect has failed in his endeavours if you 
are able to detect in St. George's Hall, Liverpool, any feature which 
would lead you to suppose the ])uilding might not belong to the age 
of Augustus. 

Tliis is even more pointedly the case Avith the now fashionable 
Gothic style. The Gothic of Wren and liis contemporaries was merely 
the last dying echo of a grand natural phenomenon vrhich had so long 
been reverberating through the national mind, that it was slow to 
die away. The revived Gothic is more like the thunder of the stage, 
got up with all the best appliances of Art, and meant to strike with 
awe and excite admiration in the mind of the spectator : and though 
the true Gotliic style is one of the most beautiful and perfect of man's 
creations, its copy has very little either of the spirit or the merit of 
the original. Nevertheless an architect is at once condemned if, in 
any of the numerous churches now being erected, he introduces any 
feature or omits any detail which would lead you to suspect that Ms 
building is not a church suited for the Roman Catholic ritual, andj 
such as might have been erected during the four centuries that pre- 
ceded the death of Henry VII. 


The division of the architects into two separate schools, one fol- 
lowing the pnre Greek, the other the literal Gothic, is another most 
important feature which distinguishes the Eevival from the Renais- 
sance. It is literally impossible that any man or set of men can 
contiiniously profess to obtain two diametrically opposite sets of 
results, if reasoning from any one set of well-recognised principles ; 
but wlien reasoning is entirely put on one side, and mere imitation 
substituted, it becomes easy. The architects of the Renaissance had 
a distinct principle before them, which was, how to adapt Classical 
details so as to make them subser^-ient to modern purposes. To do 
this always required thought and in\-ention on their part, — more, in 
fact, than they frequently cotild supply. If the Revival architects 
have a principle, it is that modern purposes should be made sub- 
servient to foregone architectural styles. As the Church, at the 
instigation of the Revivahsts, has consented to become pseudo-Catholic 
in externals in order that its architects may be saved the trouble of 
thinking, there is now no difficulty, in so far as Ecclesiastical Archi- 
tecture is concerned. "When town-councillors are willing to spend 
money that they may be lodged like Roman senators, all is easy there 
too : and an architect only reqtiires to possess a good Ubrary of illus- 
trated works in order to qualify himself for any task he may be called 
upon to undertake. 

It is not difficult to trace the steps by which, in this country at 
least, the change took place. The publication of Dawkins and Wood's 
'Illustrations of Palmyra and Baalbec,' in 1750, first gave the English 
public a taste for Roman magnificence, undiluted by Italian design. 
Adam's ' Spalatro,' jDublished ten years afterwards, increased the 
feeling, and gave its author an opportunity which he so strangely 
threw away. But the works which really and permanently affected 
the taste of the country were the splendid series which commenced 
by the puV)lication of the first volume of Stuart's 'Athens,' in 1762, 
as contiimed by the Dilettanti Society, and, after the lapse of nearly 
century, was worthily completed by the publication, in 18G0, of 
Cockereirs • Researches at Egina and Bassfe,' and Penrose's survey 
of the Parthenon in the same fhai. 

Though Stuart practised as an architect after his return from 
Greece, he does not seem to have met with nmch patronage, nor did 
he then succeed in introducing his favourite style practically to his 
countrymen. The truth was that, with all its beauties, the Grecian 
Doric is singularly untractable and ill-suited to modern pm-poses ; 
and, so long as the principles of the Renaissance prevailed, it cotild 
not be applied. It was, however, the lieauty of this style, and the 
desii-e to possess examples of it, created by the enthusiasm which 
the possession of the Elgin marbles raised in this country towards 
everything that savoured of the age of Pericles, which eventually led 


to the substitiTtion of the principles of the ReviMil for those of the 

Once the fashion was introduced it became a mania. Thirty or 
forty years ago no building was complete without a Doric portico, 
hexastyle or octastyle, prostylar or distyle in antis ; and no educated 
man dared to confess ignorance of a great many very hard words 
which tlien became fashionable. Chm'ches were most afflicted in tliis 
way ; next to these came Gaols and County Halls, — but even Raihvay 
Stations and Panoramas found theii- best advertisements in these 
sacred adjuncts ; and terraces and shop-fronts thought they had 
attained the acme of elegance when either a wooden or plaster 
caricature of a Grecian Order suggested the Classical taste of the 
builder. In some instances the founders were willing to forego the 
commonplace requisites of light and aii', in order to carry out then- 
Classical aspirations ; but in nine cases out of ten a slight glance 
round the corner satisfies the spectator that the building is not erected 
to contain a statue of Jupiter or Minerva, and suffices to dispel any 
dread that it might be devoted to a revival of the impure worship of 
Heathen deities. 

The whole device was, in fact, an easily-detected sham, the ab- 
surdity of which the Gothic architects were not slow in availing 
themselves of. " If," they said, " you can copy Grecian temples, we 
can copy Christian churches ; if your porticoes are beautiful, they 
belong neither to our religion nor to .our country ; and your steeples 
are avowedly unsightly, your churches barns, and the whole a mass 
of incongruities. Ours are harmonious throughout, suited to Christian 
worship and to our climate ; every part ornamental, or capable of 
ornament without incongruity ; and all suggestive of the most appro- 
priate associations." 

The logic of this appeal was irresistible, so far at least as churches 
were concerned : the public admitted it at once, and were right in doing 
so. If copying is to be the only principle of Art, — and the Grecian 
architects have themselves to blame that they forged that weapon 
and put it into the hands of their enemies, — there is an end of the 
controversy. It is better to copy Gothic, when we must do so literally, 
than to copy Greek. But is copying the only end and aim of Art ? 

If it is so, it is hardly worth the while of any man of ordinary 
ability to think twice about the matter. Nothing either great or good 
was ever yet done without thought, or by mere imitation, and there 
seems no reason to believe that it ever will be otherwise. The only 
hope is that the aljsurdity of the present practice may lead to a reac- 
tion, and that Architecture may again become a real art, practised on 
some rational basis of common sense. 

There are very few churches in England, built during the period of 


the Ee\"i\"al, in the Classical styles of Architectiu'e, inasmuch as, 
before the demand for extension of church accommodation began to 
be extensively felt, the Gothic styles had come into vogue for the 
pm'pose. It may also be added, that the chiu'ches which Avere then 
Iniilt were very much after the old pattern ; — a portico, of more or 
less pretensions, with a spire resting on its ridge, — the only novelty 
introduced being that, instead of a conical spu'e, an egg-shaped cupola 
was frequently introduced as more correct ; though, like most compro- 
mises, it failed in accomplishing the desired object. 

The new chiu'ch of St. Pancras, built between the years 1819 and 
1822, may be taken as a typical example of this class, and, in its 
details at least, goes further to reproduce a Grecian Temple than any 
other chiu'ch we jwssess. The selection of the Order employed in its 
construction was, however, very unfortunate, as the extreme delicacy 
of the Grecian Ionic is neither suited to oiu' climate nor to so large 
a building as this ; and details which were appropriate to an Order 
under o(» ft. in height, become inappropriate when applied to one a 
third larger. The worst featiu"e of the whole design is, however, the 
steeple. The idea of putting a small Temple of the Winds on the top 
of a larger one was a most unfortunate way of designing a steeple, 
and it was a still greater solecism to place this combination over so 
delicate a portico as that used at St. Pancras. The introduction also 
of the caryatid portico on either flank, where they are crusljed by the 
expanse of plain wall to which they are attached, was another very 
grave error of judgment. Putting on one side for the present all 
question as to the propriety of adopting Classical details for Christian 
purposes, it still was an unpardonable mistake to arrange in a formal 
moimmental building of the dimensions of this chiu'ch the elements 
of a small, elegant, and playful design, like the Temple of Minerva 
Polias at Athens, and a still gTeater one to select so delicate an Order 
for employment in om' climate, to which the Roman Orders were at 
least more appropriate. All these causes led to St. Pancras new 
chiu'ch beiniT acknowledged a failure ; and as it cost nearly 70,000?., 
it contributed more than any other circumstance to hasten the reac- 
tion toAvards the Gothic style which was then becoming fashionable. 
Internally the building is very much better than it is externally. 
The difficulty of the galleries is conquered, as far as possible, by 
letting their supjiorts stop at their under side ; and all the other 
arrangements are such as are appropriate to a Protestant church of 
the first class. 

There are several other churches in the metropohs and its neigh- 
bom'hood, such as those at Kennington and Norwood, which aim at 
equal piuity of Hellenism in style, though less ambitious in design 
and detail. They are noAV, however, all admitted to have failed in the 
attempt to amalgamate the elements of Greek Art with the requii'e- 



Book IV. 

196. West Elevation of St. Pancras New Church. 

ments of a Protestant church in our climate. It is, therefore, of Httle 
use adding further criticism to Avhat has already been passed upon 
them ; nor is it necessary to enumerate the churches in similar styles 
erected in the provinces. The fashion passed as quickly as it arose, 
and has scarcely le^ any permanent impress on the Ecclesiastical 
Architecture of the age. 

Turning to Secular Art, wc find Sir John Soane ^ as one of the 
earliest and most successful architects of the Revival. On his return 
from studying in Italy, he was, in 1788, ap|)ointed architect to the 
Bank of England ; and during the rest of his life was occupied in 
carrying out the rebuilding of that institution, which was commenced 
there shortly after his appointment. This great design was the subject 
of Ms life-long study, and that by which i)osterity will judge of his 

' Boru 1750 ; died 1837. 


The task proposed to him on this occasion was very similar to that 
undertaken by Dance in designing Newgate — to produce an imposing 
public building without any openings towards the street. But though 
the latter succeeded perfectly in his design, it is very doubtful how far 
the same praise can be awarded to Soane. 

In the first place, it was an unpardonable mistake to adopt an 
Order less than 80 ft. high, and standing at one angle on the ground, 
as the ruling feature of such a design. From the fall of the ground 
the Lothbury front is about G ft. higher, — but even then a height of 
36 or iO ft. along an unbroken front of 420 ft. is disproportioned in 
comparison with Dance's 50 ft. in height along a facade of 300 ft., 
which, besides, is broken into three well-defined masses. The mis- 
take is the less excusable here, as the Bank was and is surrounded by 
buildings so high as to dwarf it still more, and to neutralise, both in 
appearance and in reality, that feeling of security for which the whole 
design has been sacrificed. It would have been so easy to remedy 
this, either by raising the whole on a terrace-wall, with a slight 
batter some 20 ft. in height, — -in which case some or all of the blank 
windows, which are now supposed to be ornajnents, might have been 

197. East Elevation of the Bank of England. 

opened, to the great convenience of the occupants, as well as to the 
improvement of the appearance of the building externally ; or he 
might, with a very slight alteration, have used the present block as 
such a terrace ; and, at least over the centre of each front, have raised 
an upper storey, which ^vould liave given dignity and variety to the 
whole. After these faidts of conception, the worst feature of the 
design is the grand entrance, which, strange to say, is only an 
ordinary three-storeyed dwelling-house, through two small doors on 
the ground floor of which you enter this grand building I On the 
other hand, the recessed colonnades wliich flank it, and ornament the 
centre of the eastern front, are as pleasing features for the purpose as 
have ever been adopted in a raoiern Classical building ; and, if an 
Order was to be copied literally — which the new sehool insisted 
should be the case — Soane was fortunate in the selection of the Tivoli 
example for this purpose. The cu'cular colonnade at the north-west 
angle is a very pleasing specimen of design, as well as most appro- 
priate in overcoming the acuteness of the angle. But the most 
pleasing part of the whole is the Lothbury Court, which, though 


small, luid having an unfinishiid look in some parts, is perhaps the 
most elegant to be found in this country. 

In the rest of the interior, as well as in most of liis other designs, 
Soane affected an originality of form and decoration, which, not being 
based on any well-understood constructive principle, or any recognised 
form of beauty, has led to no result, and to us now appears little less 
than ridiculous. Still, he took so much pains, and bestowed so much 
thought on some of his designs, — such, for instance, as the staircase to 
the old House of Lords — some parts of his o\vn house — the dome of 
the National Del)t Office, and some others, — that it is most discouraging 
to find that, when a man with such talents as Soane undoubtedly 
possessed deviated from the beaten path, he should have been so 
unsuccessful. It probably may have been that he was crotchety and 
devoid of good sound taste ; but it is a strong argument in the 
hands of the enemies of progress to find . such a man succeeding when 
copying, and faiUng when he attempted originality. 

Holland, Burton, Nash, and one or two others, formed a group of 
architects who certainly have left their impress on the Art of their 
country, though whether or not they advanced the cause of true Arclii- 
tecture is not quite so clear. The first-named introduced a certain 
picturesque mode of treating the Classical styles, which promised 
favourable results, and in his Carlton House certainly was effective. 
The last-named was in feeling a landscape-gardener, and carried 
Holland's principles to their extremest verge. The three devoted 
themselves more especially to Street and Domestic Arcliitecture ; and 
with the aid of a few columns stuck here and there, or rich window 
dressings and rustications in another place, and aided by the fatal 
facility of stucco, they managed to get over an immense amount of 
space with a very slight expenditure of thought. Although none of 
their buildings will stand the test of separate examination, to these 
architects is due the merit of freeing us from the dreadful monotony 
of the Baker Street style. We can no longer consent to live behind 
plain brick walls with oblong holes cut in them ; and for this we 
cannot be too grateful. 

These men were all more or less true to the old Classical school of 
Art, though occasionally they indulged in a Httle bad Gothic, and 
their Classical designs were more or less tinged with the feelings of 
the new Romantic school. Wilkins was probably the first who really 
aspired to pre-eminence in both styles. While he was building the 
severely Classical College of Downing at Cambridge, he was also 
building the i)icturesque Gothic New Court at Trinity College in the 
same uni\-LTsity ; and wliile he was erecting his chef-d'oeuvre, the 
portico of the University College, Gower Street, he was the author of 
the new buildings at King's College, Cambridge. It is absurd to sup- 
pose he could be sincere in both, if he knew ^hat Arcliitecture was ; but 

Chap. IV. 



198. Portico of the London University Buildings, Gower Street. 

the feelings of his heart, so far as we can judge, were towards the pure 
Greek ; and in the portico in Gower Street he has certainly produced 
the most pleasing specimen of its class which has yet been attempted 
in this country. The stylobate is singularly beautiful and well pro- 
portioned ; the Order itself is faultless, both in detail and as to the 
manner in which it stands ; and the dome sits most gracefully on 
the whole, and is itself as pleasing in outline and detail as any that 
ever was erected, in modern times at least. It is true the porch is 
too large for the building to which it is attached ; but this arises from 
the wings, which were an essential part of the original design, not 
having been completed. It is true also that it is useless ; but so is a 
Gothic steeple : and we must not apply the utilitarian test too closely 
to works of Ai't. If it were desired to make the building Iwth monu- 
mental and ornamental, it would not be easy to do it at less cost, 
either in money or convenience, than is attained by the arrangement 
adopted at University College. 

It is to be regretted that this building is so little seen, and that 
Wilkins's standing as an architect must generally be judged by |iis 
having had the bad' fortune to obtain the prize of being chosen to 
erect, in the National Gallery, one of our largest public buildings, and 
on the finest site in the metropolis. Unfortunately for his fame the 
prize was coupled with such conditions as to render success nearly 
impossible. The money allotted to the purpose was scarcely one-half 
of what was necessary ; he was ordered to take and use the pillars of 


the portico of Carlton House ; to set back the wings, so as not to hide 
St. ]\Iartin's Church ; and, lastly, to allow two thoroughfares through 
it ! He failed, and we pay the penalty. And most justly so ; 
because we know that Wilkins had talent enough to erect a creditable 
building if he had had fau' play ; but the pubhc thought proper to 
impose conditions which rendered his doing so next to impossible. 
The sad result to the architect is well known ; but on a fair review of 
the circumstances it does not appear that he was to blame for the 
painful failure in Trafalgar Square. 

If the British Museum is not more successful than the National 
Gallery, it certainly is not so from the same causes. No architect 
ever had a fairer chance than Sir Robert Smirke had here. The 
ground was free of all encumbrances ; the design long and carefully 
elaborated before execution ; and money supi^lied without stint. If 
the buildings there have cost a million sterling, which is under the 
mark, it is no exaggeration to say that half that sum at least has been 

.m:»::^ ::-p-v:H :::H :::! ;::§|;.;m:;-S :« 

1S9. Pkin of the Portico of the British Museum. Scale 100 feet to 1 incli. 

spent in ornament and ornamental arrangements, and at such detri- 
ment to convenience that already they are being abandoned, in spite 
of the money wliich has been wasted upon them. The courtyard to 
which the whole building was sacrificed is already gone, and the 
portico is voted a public nuisance ; though it will not be so easily got 
rid of as the other. Nothing, in fact, can well be more absurd than 
forty-four useless columns, following the sinuosities of a modern 
facade, and finishing round the corner ;— not because the design is 
complete— for, according to the theory on which the portico is de- 
signed, they ought to be continued along l)oth flanks,— or liecause 
they abut on any building,— but simply because the expense would 
not allow of its being carried further. At the same time, almost as if 
to prove how conducive to want of thought this system of designing 
is, the principal staircase of the Museum, lighted from the roof, is 
placed to the north in a situation which affords the best light for 
a sculpture galleiy of any in the Museum ; and a sculptiu'e gallery, 
Hghted by side windows, is placed facing the south, where its lio-ht 
IS almost entu-ely shut out by the shadows of the portico. Even if 



Fagade of tlie British JIuseum. Fi'uiu a Pliotugraph. 

it is contended that this is a pleasing- object in itself, it can only be 
considered as a nuisance and an absurdity in the situation in Avhich 
it is placed. As if to make matters worse, a splendid " grille " has 
been erected in front, so high and so near the spectator, that, as seen 
from the street, the iron wall is higher and more important than the 
colonnade. Had the grille been carried back between the two wings 
of the portico, it would have been pleasing and appropriate. Where 
it is, its only effect is that of dwarfing what is already too low. 

Most of the faults of the British Museum portico were avoided by 
Sir AV. Tite in his design for the Royal Exchange, which was being 
erected about the same time. There the portico occupies nearly the 
whole of the west end of the edifice, and is practically a dignified 
and well-proportioned entrance to the great hall, or courtyard, which 
is the main feature of the l)uilding, and the real purpose for which 
it was erected. The Order, too, is carried all round the building ; 
and, though it is of course somewhat absurd to ha\-e a range of small 
shops below, and office windows above, under this templar ordinance, 
it is wonderful how use reconciles us to it, and throws a dignity 
about the whole building which could not so easily be attained with 
smaller paits. The design is, in fact, the same as that of the church 



Book IV. 

of St. lirartiii's-iii-the-tields, on a larger scale, and with this improve- 
ment, that the spire, instead of being astride on the portico, is placed 
at the further end of the building, but where it ought to have been 
very much larger and more important to be suited to its situation. 
The real defect of the whole, however, is that a Christian church 
and an Exchange for merciiants should be practically the same design — 
and that, an attempt to look like a Roman temple, and not anything 
belonging either to our own age or our own country. 

Mr. Cockerell's design, which was prepared in competition with 
this one, avoided most of these faults, though running into others. 
His idea of a faQade was a Roman triumphal arch, which is certainly 

Front View uf the Fit/.william Museum, Cambridge. 

more appropriate than a simple pillared porch ; but the result was 
feeble, and deficient in light and shade, though elegant of course in 
detail. It never occurred to either of these architects that it might 
be possible to forget Rome, and think only of Ijondon with its climate 
and its wants. 

The portico which Basevi erected in front of the Fitzwilliam 
Museum at Cambridge is very much of the same useless character 
as that at the British Museum, but much less objectionable •. in the 
first place, because more elegant in detail and better proportioned ; 
in the next, because it does terminate naturally at both ends ; and, 
lastly, because evidently only a Classical screen to hide a building 
nearly as ornamental behind, A screen is always of course objec- 


tionable in Ai't ; but if it is determined that the building- shall 
reproduce the effect of a pre-Christian temple or hall, it is perha})S 
better to cut the difficulty by this means at once, than to attempt 
to mix the ancient and modern together in the hojie of producing 
&, deception which ^'erJ seldom can be successful. 

At the same time it must be confessed that such a portico as th's 
is so elegant in its arrangement and detail that the temptation to 
■employ it could hardly be resisted. Even the Media3\-al architects 
produced nothing which in itself so completely satisfies all the 
■conditions of good architecture. Take, for instance, the fagade of 
the Cathedral at Peterborough,^ which is the Gothic portico that most 
nearly resembles this one, and is one of the most beautiful productions 
of Mediaeval Art. If it were erected on the opposite side of the 
■street, with similar dimensions to Basevi's portico, as a facade to a 
Gothic natural history museum, the incongruity would be the same, 
l)ut the two styles fairly pitted again^ each other. If asked to choose 
between the two, fifty years ago, probably nine out of ten educated 
men would have declared for the Classical example. At present the 
preponderance would jjrobably be the other way, but few would 
perceive that 'there was a "tertium quid" better than either. The 
real defect of the Cambridge portico, as of that of the sister example 
in Bloomsbury, is that they are expensive shams. Had Mr, Basevi 
•set himself down to design a really appropriate facade, tAvo, or it may 
Ije three, storeys in height, A\ith the same money, he might have pro- 
duced one of twice the superficial dimensions, and so gained immensely 
in dignity. "With properly accentuated angles and a bold entrance 
in the centre, it might have been made to tell its own story ; and 
if the cornices, stringcourses, and window-mouldings had all been 
■elegant and well-proportioned, the effect must have been pleasing ; — 
while grouping the openings, and interspersing them with panelling 
and couAentional carving, might have rendered the whole a thing of 
permanent and ever-pleasing beauty. To do all this, however, would 
have required infinite thought and skill on the part of the architects 
■of these two buildings, and after all might not have been successful 
till several trials had been made in the same direction, each avoiding 
the faults and improving on the exceUences of its predecessor. 

It is not thus, however, that modern buildings are designed : and 
till it is, we must be content to extract what crumbs of comfort we 
can from the more or less perfect imitations which are produced to 
satisfy the critical taste of the day ; and of these the culminating 
example and most successful specimen of this style of Art in England, 
perhaps in Europe, is St. George's Hall, Liverpool. Its dimensions 
are, in the first place, superb — 420 ft, in length by l-to in width — 

* ' History of Architecture,' vol. ii., p. 49 (Woodcut No. 574). 



Book IV. 

and oviiaineiited l>y an (_)rder 58 ft. in heiji'lit. The centre internally 
is occupied hy one grand hall 10!) ft. in length, 85 ft. high, and 
75 ft. wide, to which must be added recesses I'S ft. deep on each side. 
The design of this noble room is adapted from that of the great halls 

of the Thermre at Rome, 
and its ornamentation is so 
rich and tasteful as to 
make it one of the most 
splendid structures in Eu- 
rope. At either end are 
court-rooms, fiO ft. by 50, 
opening into it, and beyond, 
at one end, a concert-room 
75 ft. deep. The smaller 
rooms that are grouped 
round these are so aljso- 
lutely concealed on the east, 
north, and south sides, that 
they do not interfere with 
the Classical effect ; and, on 
the west, though windows 
do appear, they are so openly 
and so appropriately intro- 
duced that there is no ap- 
pearance of meanness on this 
side, or anything to detract 
from the splendour of the 
east front. The principal 
fagade is ornamented by a 
portico of sixteen Corinthian 
columns, each 46 ft. in 
height ; beyond which on 
each side is a "crypto- 
porticus" of five square 
pillars, filled up to one-third 
of their height by screens ; 
the whole being of the 
purest and most exquisite 
G-recian rather than Roman 
detail. The effect of so 
simple, yet so varied a composition, extending over 400 feet, with the 
dimensions quoted above, is quite unrivalled, and produces an effect 
of grandeur unequalled by any other modern building known. The 
south front, with its octastyle portico, is very beautiful, but presents 
no remarkable features of novelty ; and its principal merit is that 

Plan of St. George's Hall, Liverpool. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Chap. IV. 



it groups so pleasingly with the eastern fagade, and almost suggests 
the semicircular termination at the other end. 

With these dimensions there is perhaps no other huilding in 
modern times which would enahle us to compare more closely the 
merits of Grecian and Medieval Art. The plan and outline of St. 
George's HaU is very much that of a Media3val cathedral ; and if 
we could fancy York, or any other cathedral, without its towers, 
substituted for it, we should be able to say which is the most 
effective. Even in height they are not dissimilar. But the one is 
a windowless pile, simple in outline, severe from the fewness of its 
parts, but satisfying the most fastidious tastes from the purity of 
its details. The other would be rich, varied, and far more cheerful 

View of St. George's Hall, Liverpool. From a Photograph. 

in appearance ; depending principally on its windows for its deco- 
ration, and making up, to a great extent, for its want of purity, by 
the appropriateness of its details. 

But here again, as in the suggested parallel bet\veen the portico 
of the Fitzwilham Museum and the fa9ade of Peterborough Cathedral, 
the one is calculated to satisfy the demands of the best-educated 
and most refined taste, while the Gothic example addresses itself to 
a class of feelings wilder and more poetic ; and though it may be as 
elevated, it certainly is a less pure and less intellectual form of Art. 

Grange House, Hampshire, which was reconstructed from designs 
liy Wilkhis about the year 1820, is not only too characteristic an 
example of his taste in design, but also of the inappropriateness of 
tlie revived Grecian style as applied to Domestic Architeccure. Not 
only do the porticoes add iunnensely to the expense of such a building, 



Book IV. 

without in the smallest degree increasing either its comfort or coii- 
veuience, Init they actually darken the windows, and suggest the 
arrangement of a class of buildings diifering in every respect from 
the purposes of a noljleman's mansion in an English park. It is no 
wonder that a reaction soon set in against such a style as this. 
Wilkins's own designs in Tudor Gothic afforded far more accommo- 
dation, for the same expense, and with infinitely more appropriateness 
and convenience than is found in his Grecian buildhigs. Though 
fashion may at one time have induced noblemen to submit to the 
inconveniences of the pure Classic, the moment the Gothic became 

204. Grange Huuse, Hampshire. From Knight's 'Pictorial History of England." 

as fashionable, there was an end of the first ; and it is very im- 
probable that it can ever be revived again in this country, for such 
purposes at least as we find it applied to at Grange. 

There are several buildings in Edinburgh and Glasgow which, 
though on a smaller scale, must be considered as successful adapta- 
tions of Classical Architectm^e. The most so is perhaps the Royal 
Institution on the Mound at Edinburgh, where the Grecian Doric is 
used with a freedom, and at the same time a success, not to be 
found in any other example in this country. The porticoes here 
cover entrances ; the flank colonnades are stopped against blocks 
W'hich give them character and meaning ; and tbe whole is so well 
proportioned as to produce a most satisfactory result. The great 
defect is its situation being so low^ as to be looked down upon from 
the ai)proaches either in front or rear. From George Street the 




spectator is on a level with the cornice, and so loses all effect of 
perspective ; and from the Castle Hill he has a revelation of skylights 
and chimney-pots sadly destrnctive of the illusion produced hj the 
purity of the external architecture. Placed on the Calton Hill, or 
on any height, it would have been one of the most faultless of modern 
buildings. Where it is, it fails entirely in producing the effect which 
is due to the beauty of the design. 

The New High School, by Hamilton, is perhaps even a happier 
adaptation of the style to modern purposes, though on a less monu- 
mental scale, and with far less pretension. The situation, however, 
is most happy ; and the adaptation of the front of the building to 
the site, and to the purposes to which it is applied, so successful, as 
almost to make us believe that it might he possible really to adapt 

View of the New High School, Edinliurgh 

Greek architecture to modern requirements. A view, however, of the 
building from the Calton Hill rather dissipates the illusion. 
Though there is nothing mean a])0ut it, it turns out, like the 
Fitzwilliam Museum, to l^e merely a modern building behind a 
Classical screen. 

Such indeed seems to be the result of all our modern experience in 
this direction. Either we must be content with good honest two or 
three storeyed buildings, like the Paris Bourse, the Liverpool Custom- 
house, or the Leeds To\TO-hall, adding columns to as great an extent 
as the front will admit of, and then, like the pheasants with their 
heads in the brake, trust to no one perceiving that the pillars are not 
all in all, l:»ut that the Avindows mean something ; or we must go to 
great expense to put up screens and to hide our modern necessities, 
and hope no one will find us out. This has been nearly accomplished 



Book IV. 

at St. George's Hall, but hardly anywhere else ; and after all, suj)- 
posing it successful, is this an aim worthy of the most truthful and of the Arts ? 

Something more ne:irly successful than any of the liuildings just 
(juotcd. was accomplished by the late Sir James Peunethorne, in the 
buildings he erected iu Burlington Gardens to accommodate the Lon- 
don University. The details throughout are severely Classical, and 
the form sufficiently monumental for the situation or the purposes to 
which the Ijuilding is dedicated, that there is nothing about the build- 
ing which can be called a sham, or anything that can even be 
reproached as suggesting a falsehood. The two great halls in the wings, 
which are appropriately lighted from their upper storeys, enabled him 
to get repose and dignity in an unpierced basement, and the requisite 

>,ew Building fur iLl- l^unauii L'uiv«\-ity, Burlington Gardens. 

support to the centre containing the council-room and other state 
apartments of the building. All this is expressed in tlie exterior as 
truthfully as in any medifeval building, and with an elegance that 
satisfies the most refined taste. The portico is perhaps the least suc- 
cessful part of the design, but its use is obvious, and there is nothing 
about it which seriously detracts from the beauty of the whole design. 

Had he lived under a happier constellation. Cockered would per- 
haps have done more than any of the architeits of the last generation to 
.raise the taste of his countrymen. By birth and education, but more 
than either by feeling, he was one of the most refined gentlemen of 
his day. Bad taste and vidgarity were impossible with him, though 
uufortimately eiTors of judgment were not only possible, but almost 
inherent in the line of design wliich he adopted. In youth he travelled 
much, and resided long in Greece, so that it is little to be wondered at, 
that a student of his bent of mind became so deeply enamoured with 

C'llAl'. IV. 



the Arts of that Classic land that he never after'varcls abandoned them. 
Gothic made him shudder, and even Italian was not sufficiently refined 
for his taste. Had he lived at the present day we should probably 
never have heard of his name : but at the tinii he commenced practice 
the country still retained enough of the expiring taste for Grecian 
art to give liira a chance, and he has left behind him some beautiful 
monuments, but unfortunately all more or less deformed from the vain 
attempt to reconcile modern feelings and wants with the inflexible 
purity of Classic forms. 

As architect to the Bank of England, he erected l)ranch houses for 
it in most of the great commercial centres in England. These are all 

Tuylur and Randolph Institute, Oxford. Fiom a Pbutugi-aph. 

elegant buildings appropriate to their jmrposes, and with nothing 
about them that can be called shams. But there are many things — 
like the idle three-quarter pillars — one would like to see omitted and 
replaced with some more appropriate. But of his commercial buildings 
the most successful is the Sun Fire Office, at the corner of Threadneedle 
Street and Nichohis Lane, a design Avhich he afterwards repeated, 
though with considerable variations, in the Exchange buildhigs, Liver- 
pool. Xothing in the City is more elegant and appropriate than this. 
The upper range of columns gives lightness and variety just where it is 
wanted, and the cornice is well proportioned to the whole. The angles, 
too, are well accentuated ; and it need hardly ho added all the details 
most ele2:ant. 



Cook IV 

Of his other buildings, perliiips tlie most important was the Taylor 
and Randolph Institute at Oxford. It consists of two wings, three 
storeys in height, connected by a long gallery of singularly elegant 
and Classic design. But as this has no a^iparent windows, and is 
lower' than the wings, it certainly is a mistake ; so, too, is the mode 
in which the windows of the upper storey break through and interrupt 
the lines of the principal cornice. In spite, however, of these and other 
defects which could be pointed out, there is perhaps no building in 
England on which the refined student of Architecture can dwell with so 
much pleasure. There is not a moulding or chisel mark anywhere which 
is not the result of deep study, guided by refined feeling. If there are 
errors in design, inseparable from the problem he was trying to solve, 
there are so few in detail, that it is quite refreshing, among the l)ar- 
barism of both ancient and modern Gothic Art in that city, to be nhh 
to dwell on something so pure and elegant as this. 

ra(;ade of the College of Surgeons, Lincoln's Inn Fields 

Sir Charles Barry was almost the only one of the architects of the 
Revival who seems to have perceived the hopelessness of the path they 
were pursuing ; and if he had been left to follow the bent of his own 
genius, would probably have set an example that Avould ha^'e had tlie 
greatest influence on the style of Art in this country. One of his 
earliest works was remodelling the fa9ade of the College of Surgeons 
in Lincoln's Inn Fields. He found it with a very commonplace portico 
running through two storeys, and with an. attic above. Instead of 
trying merely to improve this, he boldly placed "a cornicione over the 
whole, thus reducing the portico to the position of a mere adjunct, and 
making the whole three storeys part of one great consentaneous design. 
The attempt -was so successful, and so like a great discovery, that the 

Chap. IV 



■wonder is that an attic was ever introduced afterwards ; but it is not 
the pro\'ince of arcliitects to think at the present day, and, though more 
rarely than formerly, attics are still introduced. 

His next and even more successful design was the southern front of 
the Travellers' Club, where, by simply grouping the central windows 
together, and allowing sufficient space l^etween them and those on 
either hand to gi^'e an idea of solidity and repose, he produced one of 
the most appropriate designs of modern times — so good, that it must 
have been pleasing even without ornament ; but this, too, was ajoplied 

209. SouUiern Fagade of Travellers' Club House. From ' Memoir of Sir C. Barry,' liy his Son. 

so judiciously and elegantly, that none of the succeeding designs of 
club-houses have surpassed this. The northern fagade is not so happy. 
Its main features are copied from those of the Pandolfini Palace at 
Florence, thus showuig not only how easily a modern architect could 
surpass even so famed a one as Raphael, who is said to have been the 
author of this design, but also how fatal it is even in such a case as this 
to copy instead of thinking. His Reform Club was more ambitious and 
less happy, in consequence of a rather too great leaning towards the 



Book IV. 

Faniese Palaec, which suixgested the motivo for the design. The 
whulows are consequently too small for this climate, and the corni- 
cione too solid for the range of windows immediately under it. There 
is also a degree of monotony in the e(|ual spacing of the wiiidows 
throughout the two ])rincipal fa5ades, which Avould only be excusable 
in buildino's of a more monumental class than this one can pretend to. 
The consequence is that the western encl, though it can hardly be 
seen, is by far the most pleasing of the external facades of this Club. 

Northern Facade of Reform Club. From Sir C. Barry's Life. 

Its superiority arises simply from a slight grouping in the windows, a 
larger plain space being left between the central group of four and the 
two outer groups of two windows each. It is not much, but even this 
slight evidence of design goes far to satisfy the mind. 

Most of the defects of the Reform Club were remedied by him sub- 
sequently, Avhen superintending the erection of Bridge water House^ 
which is very similar in size and arrangements, and shows how nnich 
can be done by a little grouping of the windows and taste in the details 
with the usual elements of an English nol)leman's house, without the 

Chap. IV 



useless porticoes which the pre\'ious century thought such hulispensal)le 

In the interior of both these buildings Sir Charles Barry introduced 
a modilication of the Italian Cortile, which was a new feature in 1 niildings 
in this country, but one perfectly legitimate, and capable of the most 
pleasing effects. As before remar :3d, the Cortile is a " mezzo termine " 
between the architecture of the exterior and that of the rooms in the 
interior ; and an architect is perfectly justified hi making it lean 
either to one side or to the other, as he may desire. 

In the instances now quoted, the Cortile, being roofed over, became 

Park Front of Bridgewater House. 

a hall ; and Sir Charles would have been justified in treating this 
feature more as a room than he did ; and there can be little doubt but 
that after a few more trials it would have become so, and lost all trace 
of external architecture. As it is, these two are very pleasing specimens 
of as monumental a style of treatment as is compatible with internal 
l^urposes, and are as pleasing features of internal decoration as can be 
found in this country. 

If Barry's design for the Treasury Buildings was not so successful, 
it was owing to the fact that the task proposed to him here was— 
similar to that suggested above to improve the Bank of England— to 
raise a low colonnaded design of Sir John Soane's on a stylobate, and 


give it the height requisite for accammoclatiou and effect. The Order 
and all the elements were given to Barry, and he made the best of 
them : but there is no doul)t that he would have done better if less 

AVhile pursuing so succx^ssfully this career of introducing connnon 
sense into architectural design, 8ir Charles Barry was, unluckily for 
his happiness and fame, chosen architect for the greatest architectural 
midertaking in this countiy since the rebuilding of St. PauFs. It was 
unfortunate for him, as at that time the Gothic mania had become so 
prevalent that Parliament determined that their New Palace should 
be in that style. The plea for this was that it nnist harmonise with 
Westminster Hall and the Abbey, though a greater misconception of 
the true elements of the problem could hardly have been conceived, 
for both these buildings suflfer enormously from their younger and 
gaudier rival, and would have gained immensely by being contrasted 
with a modern Imilding in another style. However large and how- 
ever ornamental the latter might have been, it could not have 
interfered with the older buildings in any way ; and both would have 
been great and characteristic truths, instead of one honest truthful 
Medieval Imilding being placed in juxtaposition Avith a mere modern 

Had the architect been allowed to follow the bent of his owm mind, 
he i3ro]).il)ly would have adopted Inigo Jones's river fagadc for the 
palace at Whitehall as the motivo of his design. It was exactly fitted, 
both from design and dimensions, to the situation ; and with such 
changes as the difference of purposes required, or his own taste and 
exquisite knowledge of detail might have suggested, w^ould have 
resulted in a palace of which we might well be proud. A dome might 
then have covered the central hall, instead of the spire as at present ; 
and in that position would have been as effective as the dome of 
St. Paul's is, when compared with what the spire of Salisbury would 
have been in its place. The simple outlines of the Victoria and Clock 
Towers are much more suited to Italian than to Gotliic details ; and so, 
in fact, is the whole building, which is essentially Classic in form and 
principle, and only Gothic in detail. Being compelled to adopt the 
Gothic style, the building is anything but a success ; for the task of 
producing a modern palace, with all its modern appliances, and which 
shall look like a building of another age, and designed for other 
purposes, has hitherto proved a task beyond any architect's strength to 
succeed in. 

As the buildings of the Parliament Houses, howcA'er, are Gothic, 
they do not belong to the (Jlassic Revival, and must in consequence be 
desci'ibed further on, when treating of the Gothic Ptevival. 

In the meantime, howe\'er, we may to a certain extent gather from 
some Ijuildings he erected in the country what style Barry would have 





adopted had he l)ecii left to clioose his own style. Strange to say, '; 
however, notwithstanding his great ])ractice, Barry had no opportunity 
of erecting any great nransions entirely from his own design. At 
Trentham, at Highclere or Cli.'fden, or at Clumber, he was called on i 
to improve existing mansions, and to do this of com'se at the least 
possible expense. One of the most successful of these designs is that 
for the last-mentioned palace (AYoodcut 212), which gives a good idea 
of his style, and on a small scale prol;)ably represents something that 
our Parliament Houses would have looked like had he been allowed 
his own Avay. It must, however, be borne in mind that a great part 
of what is shown in the last woodcut belongs to the old house, which 
he was not allowed to pull down, and could only modify in a limited 
degree, while it, to a great extent, regulated and governed his o^vn 
design. The probability is that his design for the Parliament Houses 
would have been much richer, and, in fact, more like in style to the 
Halifax Town Hall, represented in the woodcut on the following 
page, which displays his style in a favourable light : no shams or 
screens, but each storey and each feature left to tell its owm tale, 
and that with great variety and richness of detail. The least pleasing 
feature in this design is the spire. It is heavy and inelegant. He had 
much better have adopted Sir Cliristopher Wren's principle of steeple- 
building, and divided it into storeys. With his taste and facility 
he would no doubt ha^•e produced by that mode something far more 
elegant than this. But take it all in all, for its size, there are few of the 
modern town-halls so successful as that at Halifax, or which gi'^'es a 
more pleasing idea of Barry's powers of design in the style which was 
certainly that of his predilection. 



213. Town Hall, Halifax. From • Memoir of Sir Cuarles Barry,' by his Son, the llev. Dr. Barry. 



The first pei-son who, in Eng-land at least, seems to have conceived the 
idea of a Uothic Revival, vras the celebrated Horace Walpole. He 
purchased the property at Strawberry Hill, in 1753, and seems shortly 
afterwards to ha\e commenced rebuilding the small cottage which 
then stood there. The Lower Cloister was erected in 17(ii>-(;i. the 
Beauclerc Tower and Octagon Closet in 1706, and the North Red- 
chamber in 1770. 

We now know that these are very indifferent specimens of the true 
principles of Gothic Art, and are at a loss to understand how either 
their author or his contemporaries could ever fancy that those ^ery 
queer carving's were actual reproductions of the details of York 
Minster or other equally celebrated buildings, from which they were 
supposed to have beeu copied. "Whether correct or not, they seem to 
have created quite a furore of Medifevalism among the l>ig-wigged 
gentry who strutted through iiie saloons, and were willing to believe 
the Middle Ages had been, reproduced, which no doubt they were, 
with as much correctness as in the once celebrated tale of the ' Castle 
of Otraiuo.' 

Bad as AValpole's Gothic ^vas, it was better, according to the 
present detinition of the Revival, than that which had preceded it, and 
was directed to a totally different result. Wren and the architects of 
his age, who may be taken as representing the Gothic Retiamame^ 
sought to reproduce the fornis and the spuit of the Gotliic style, 
while showing the most profound contempt for its details. The new 
school aimed at reproducing the detaOs, wholly regardless of either 
their meaning or their application. The works of Wren at St. 
Michael's, Cornhill, at St. Dunstan's-in-the-East, or of Hawksmoor at 
All Sciints, Oxford, all show a perfect appreciation of the aspuing and 
l^ictiu-esque forms of the style, coupled with an ignorance of or 
contempt for the details, wliich is veiy offensive to our modern pmists. 
On the other hand, the towel's, the cloister, or the library at 
Strawberry Hill are neither defensible, nor monastic, nor ^Mediieval. 
It is essentially the ^'illa residence of a srentleman of fortune in the 


eighteenth century, Driiiimeiited witli details IjoiTowed fi-om the 
fourteenth or fifteenth. 

It is very necessary to Ijcar this distinction in mind, as it pervades 
all Gothic designs down to tlie present day ; and is, in fact, tlie 
characteristic, as it is the fatal, featui'e of the whole system. 

The fashion set by so distinguished a person as Horace Walpole 
was not long in finding followers, not only in domestic but in religious 
buildings. Although London was spared the infliction, Liverpool and 
other towns in Lancashire, which were then rising into importance, 
were adorned with a class of churches which are a wonder and a warning 
to all future ages. St. John's, Liverpool, may be taken as a type of 
the class ; but it is not easy now to understand how any one could 
fancy that a square block with sash windows, and the details of this 
l)uildiug, was a reproduction of the parish churches of the olden time 
which they saw around them. The idea at that time seems to have 
been that any window that was jwinted, any parapet that was nicked, 
and any tower that had four strange-looking obelisks at its angles, was 
essentially Gothic ; and proceeding on this system, they .produced a 
class of Iniildings which, if they are not Gothic, had at least the merit 
of being nothing else. 

The same system was carried into Domestic Architecture ; and it is 
surprising what a number of castles were l)uilt which have nothing 
castellated about them, except a nicked parapet and an occasional 
window ill the form of a cross, with a round termination at the end of 
each branch. This is supposed to represent a loophole for archery, but 
on so Brolxlingnagian a scale, that the giant who could have used it 
could never have thrust his body into the pepper-l)ox which was 
adorned in this singular manner. Generally a circular tower at each 
angle was thought sufficient, and frequently a little solid "guerite," 
about :-) ft. in diameter, attached to each angle of the parajoet, repre- 
sented the defensive means of these modern castles. Lambton, Lowther, 
Inverary, Eglinton, and fifty others, represent this class. The Adams 
were the greatest of these military architects, and sinned more in this 
way than any others. They Ituilt Colzean Castle, Ayi'shire, which, 
from the circumstance of its situation, is one ot the most successful of 
its class, and really a picturesque dwelling-house, though it would 
have been far better without its so-called Gothic details, even if Italian 
were substituted for them. 

"With the last century this wonderful style was dying out, at least 
if we may judge from Loudon Castle, built by Elliot, and some other 
specimens, where mullions were occasionally introduced, and something 
more like a Gothic feeling prevailed, not only in the details, but the 
general featiu-es of the design. The gTeat impulse, however, that w{.s 
given to the change was by Beckford, who under very similar circum- 
stances, repeated at Fonthill what "V\'alpole had done at Strawberry 
VOL. II. . n 



Book IV. 

Hill, but with the impro\cd knowledge which the experience of half a 
century had afforded. 

It was al)out the year 179") that Beckford was first seized with a 
desire to huild, in the grounds of Fonthill Park, " a convent in ruins," 
to be a sort of pleasure-house and place of retreat. With the assistance 
of James Wyatt the building was very rapidly comjileted ; hut, being 
wholly of timber and plaster, it tumbled down before it was well 
finished, but only to be commenced on a larger scale, and with more 
durable materials. In 1807 it was so far complete that its owner 
went to reside in it, and the old mansion-house was abandoned. In 

21*- View 01 Foutuill Abbey, us it was in 1822. 

1812 the east wing was commenced, and the works progressed 
with little interruption till nearly 1822, when the place was sold 
and dismantled, only to tumljle down again and nearly to murder its 
new master. 

During the progress of the works the greatest mystery was kept 
up. No one was admitted to see them, and the consequence was that 
when thrown open, in 1822, every one rushed to see the place, and to, 
wonder at its almost Eastern magnificence, and the more than Easternj 
disregard of common sense shown in its arrangements. Most of the 
defects of the design arose from its being built to resemble an abbey ; 
but that was a part of the system. It was necessary that it should be] 


either a chiu'cli, or a castle, or a college, or something of the sort ; and 
many of the errors in proportion arose from the expansion of its 
designer's ideas during the thirty years that the works were in progress. 
But, • notwithstanding this, it was by far the most successful Gothic 
building of its day, more Mediaeval in the picturesque u'regularity of 
its outline, more Gothic in the correctness of its details, than any which 
had then been erected. With all its faults, no private residence in 
Europe possessed anything so splendid or more beautiful than the 
suite of galleries, 300 ft. in l-ength, which ran north and south through 
the whole building, on^y interrupted by the great octagon, whose sole 
defect of design was that, like the dome of St. Paul's, it was too high 
for its other proportions, and for the apartments which led into it. 
Its faults either of detail or design were so infinitely less than those 
of any other building which had been erected at that time, that the 
])ublic did not perceive them, wliile its beauties were so much greater, 
that all the world jumped at once to the conclusion of the infinite 
perfectibility and adaptability of Gothic Architecture to all luirposes. 
The discovery, as it was then thought to be, was hailed with 
enthusiasm, and nothing was thought of or built but Gothic castles, 
Gothic abbeys, Gothic villas, and Gothic pigsties ! "VVyatt, whose 
fairy creation was the cause of all this hubbub, did not live to reap the 
benefit of it. Very few original churches or palaces are to be found of 
his design, but he was most extensively employed in restoring and 
refitting those which did exist. What he did with the cathedrals 
intrusted to his care we now know to have been deplorable, though he 
is hardly to blame for this. Classical feelings were not then dead, and 
men longed for Classical effects in Gothic buildings, and funds were 
generally so sparingly supplied that stucco had often to be employed 
to replace decayed stonework. But with all this, it was a good work 
begun, and not before it was Avanted. Since that time we have become 
wonderfully critical, but it is mainly to Wyatt and his contemporaries 
that we owe the origin of the present movement, and of the work of 
restoration which is uoav being so enthusiastically carried out.^ 

Though Wilkins was evidently Classical in his art taste, he probably 

' We are now lionified at what Wyatt what was concocted by a committee in a 
did with onr cathedrals, and full of wonder , hack j^arlour of an architect's office, and 

at the blindness of our fathers in not per- carried out, not because it was the best to 

ceiviug liow wrong he was. Do we leel be done, but because it was all their 

quite sure that our children will not be funds would admit of ? 

equally shocked at what we are now Whatever mny be the case in this 

doing with the same buildings? Are not country, it is quite certain tliat the 

the honest changes made by Wyatt pre- French architects of the jwesent day are 

ferable to the forgtries of the architects w^orsethannlltheWyatts that ever existed 

of the present day? Who w.ill in future since the world bcean ; and he is lucky 

be able to tell what was the work of our who saw France before the so-called work 

forefatkers in the "great days of old," or of restc. ration was commenced. 

H 2 


built more in the Gothic than in the Classical style ; and although his 
works do not show any real grasp of the principles of ]\Iedia3val Art, 
Ills designs are free from most of the faults wliich are to be found in 
those of the architects who preceded him. He neither built abbeys 
nor castles for his clients, to live in, nor did he ever range beyond the 
one form of Gothic Art which was most suitable for domestic purposes. 
Taking for his models the Tudor mansions which remain, especially 
in the Eastern Counties, he re-arranged the parts and modified the 
position of the details so as to suit his purposes, and to give a sufficient 
appearance of novelty to his designs, and generally with a fair amount 
of success. 

The furore set in just when Nash was in the height of his fame, 
and in the full swing of his practice, and he too was called upon to 
furnish Gothic castles for his admirers. Nothing was easier. In the 
true spu'it of a modern architect, and with all the energy of a man of 
business, Xash was jDrepared to build pagodas, pavilions, Grecian 
temples, Gothic churches, Gothic castles, or abbeys, suited either for 
suburban residences or manorial dwelling-places — anything at any 
price : for if stone and brick were too dear, brick noggings and lath 
and plaster or stucco would produce the most splendid effects at the 
least possil:)le price ! The things which were done in those days are 
wonderful in our eyes, and soon produced a reaction in favour of the 
present state of things ; but a reaction that could hardly have been 
effected but for the labours of a class of artists who, though not, 
strictly speaking, architects themselves, have furnished the profession 
with the materials which they are now using with such effect. 

The most remarkable among these men was John Britton, who for 
more than half a century laboured with most unremitting zeal in 
publishing the splendid series of works which bears his name. The 
principal of these were ' The Architectural Antiquities of Great 
Britain,' commenced in 1805, and 'The Cathedral Antiquities of 
England,' begun in 1814 and completed in 1835, besides some fifty or 
sixty other works, all bearing more or less directly on this fa^•ourite 
subject. To these succeeded the works of the elder Pugin, who 
supplied, l)y accurate detailed measurements, the information which 
Britton's works had given in a more picturesque form : Le Keux, the 
engraver, and a host of other men lent their aid during the first 
quarter of tliis century ; so that, before the next stage was reached, 
not only was an architect inexcusable who did not emjiloy correct 
details in his work, or who used them incorrectly, but the public had 
become so learned, and so fastidious, that any deviation from authority 
was immediately detected, and an architect guilty of this offence at once 
exposed and condemned. 

Rickman was, perha]is, the man who did more to jjopularise the 
study than even those laborious men above named.. By a simple and 


easy classification he reduced to order what before was chaos to most 
minds ; and, by elevating the study of an art into a science, he not 
only appealed to the best class of minds, but gave an importance and 
an interest to the study wdiich it did not possess till the pubhcation of 
his works. 

These works, together with the experience gained during the first 
thirty years of this century, had laid the foundation for a perfect revival 
of (Jothic Art, should such be desired, when an immense impulse was 
given to the attempt by the writings and works of the younger Pugiu. 
He set to work to reform abuses Avith all the fire of a man of genius, 
which he undoubtedly was, and all the still fiercer intolerance of a 
pervert from the religion of his forefathers. According to him, what- 
ever was modern or Protestant was detestable and accursed ; whatever 
belonged to the Middle Ages or his new religion was beautiful and 
worthy of all reverence. Unfortunately for us, this simple creed had 
been adopted at that time by a large and most influential section of 
the Church of England, who, shocked at the apathy and indifference 
which prevailed, hit upon this expedient for rousing the clergy and 
recalling attention to the offices of religion. Many, like Pugin, fell 
victims to their own delusions, and have gone over to Eome, but not 
before they had leavened the whole mass with a veneration for the 
fourteenth century and its doings, and a pious horror for the nineteenth, 
' in which, unfortunately, they have been born, and in which they and we 
must live and have our being. 

. If copying correctly is really the only aim and purpose of Archi- 
tectural Art, Pugin had some reason on his side wdien he said to his 
co-religionists, " Let us choose the glorious epoch before the Refor- 
mation as our type, and reproduce the gorgeous effects of the Middle 
Ages, before the accursed light of reason destroyed the ph.antasma 
of that massive darkness." With less perfect logic he appealed to the 
boasted immutability of the Church ; forgetting that, in so far as 
Architecture was concerned, it had been one series of continuous, 
unresthig change, from the age of Constantine to this hour. During 
fifteen centuries " Progress hi Art " had been her watchword : Pugin 
was the first to ask her to step backwards OA^er the last four. 

The appeal to Protestants was still more illogical. Why should 
we deny the Reformation ? Why should we be asked to ignore all 
the progress made in enlightenment during the last four centuries ? 
AVhy should we wish to go about wearing the mask not only of Catho- 
lics, but of Catholics of the Dark Ages ? The answer was clear, 
though a little beside the qnestion. You are now trying to reproduce 
Pagan forms and Pagan temples ; why not produce Christian forms 
and Christian churches ? It required a deeper knowledge of the sub- 
ject than is possessed by most men to give a satisfactory answer to 
this appeal. The Classic architects themselves had introduced the 


principle that copying was the only form of Art ; and if men must 
copy, they certainly had better copy what is Christian, and what 
belongs to their own country, than what belongs to another country 
and to another religion altogether. The error was that both were 
only on the surface, and so completely wrong that they Lad no right 
to impugn each other's principles, and had no point du depart from 
which to reason. The consequence was that neither Pugin nor his 
antagonists saw to what their practices were tending. Every page of 
Pugin's works reiterate, " give us truth, — truth of materials, truth 
of construction, truth of ornamentation," &c. &c. ; and yet his only 
aim was to produce an absolute falsehood. Had he ever succeeded 
to the extent his wildest dreams desired, he could only have produced 
so perfect a forgery that no one would have detected that a work of 
the nineteenth century was not one of the thirteenth or fourteenth. 
They have not yet, and, if there is anything in the theory of morals, 
they never can succeed ; but there are few more melancholy reflections 
thau that so noble and so truthful an art as Architecture should now 
be only practised to deceive, and that it has no higher aim than the 
production of a perfect deception. ^ 

Not\vithstanding all this there were certain obvious advantages 
to be gained by the introduction of Gothic Architecture in church- 
building in preference to Classic, which w^ere almost certain — in the 
state in which matters then were — to insure its being adopted. 

The first of these was, that when applied to a modern church every 
part could be arranged as originally designed, and every detail used 
for the purpose for which it was originally intended. It required, 
therefore, neither ability nor thought on the part of the architect to 

^ The true bent of Pugin's mind was l with all the correctness and splendour 

towards the theatre, and his earliest suc- 
cesses achieved in reforming the scenery 
and df coratious of the stage ; and, through- 
out life, the theatrical was the one and 
the only brunch of his art which he 
perfectly understood. The circumstance 
which would have brought his inherent 

with which it was represented at the 
Princess's Theatre, and with about tiie 
same amount of reality as the other intro- 
duced into the building and decoration of 
the Mediajval churches of the nineteentli 
century ; but so enclianted was Pugin, 
and unfortunately many others, tiiat they 

madness earliest to a crisis would have ! have forsaken the religion of Iheir fore- 
been if he could have seen Garrick play I fathers to enjoy the pomp and splendour 
Eichard the Third in knee-breeches and i of this Mediaeval reproduction. It is no 
a full-bottomed wig; and we cannot but doubt very beautiful ; but, as Protestants, 
regret that he died before enjoying the i i3erha,ps we may be allowed to ask whether 
felicity of seeing Charles Ktau perform \ all this theatrical magnificence is really 
the same character with all the perfection I an essential part of the Christian religion, 

©f stage properties which he introduced. 
Both these eminent men devoted their 
lives to the same cause, and with nearly 

and whether the dresses and decorations 
of the Middle Ages are really indis- 
jjensable for the proper celebration of 

equal success. What Kean did for the j Divine worship in a Protestant com- 
stage, Pugiu did for the church. The one munity in the uiueteenth century? 
reproduced tiie drama of the Middle Ages i 


attain appropriateness, which is one of the piinci])al requisites of a 
good desiu'ii. 

In using tlie Classical style, it required the utmost skill and endless 
thought to make the parts or details adapt themselves even moderately 
well to the purposes of Modern Church Architecture. AVith Gothic, 
every shaft, every arch, every bracket was designed absolutely for the 
place in which to be again enq)loyed ; and it was only so mncli the 
better if there were neither thought nor originality in the mode in 
which they were applied. 

A second advantage was the almost infinite variety of forms that 
could l:)e selected from Medieval buildings, as compared with the 
limited repertoire of the Classical architect. Practically the latter was 
restricted to five Orders, the dimensions, the details, and the ornaments 
of which had been fixed immutably by long custom, and could not now 
be altered. 

The Gothic architect, on the other hand, had windows of every 
shape and size, pillars of every conceivable degree of strength or 
tenuity, arches of every span or height, and details of every degree 
of plainness or elaboration. He had, in fact, a hundred Orders instead 
of five ; and as, according to the canons now in force, he is not 
answerable for their elegance or beauty, his task is immensely 
facilitated by this richness of materials. 

A third and perhaps even more important advantage of the Gothic 
style is its cheapness. In a Gothic building the masonry cannot be too 
coarse or the materials too common. The carpentry must be as rude 
and as unmechanically put together as possil)Ie ; the glazing as clumsy 
and the glass as liad as can be found. If it is wished to introduce a 
painted window into a church of a Classical design, you must employ 
an artist of first-rate ability to prepare your cartoon, and he will 
charge you a very large sum for it ; and it may cost as much more 
to transfer the drawing to the glass. Any journeyman glazier earning 
his guinea to two guineas a week is good enough to represent the 
sublimest mysteries of the Christian religion, or the most solemn scenes 
of the Bible history, on the windows of a Gothic chm-ch. The Mystery 
of the Trinity, or the most affecting incidents of the Passion, are 
represented every day in this country in a manner that makes one 
shudder, and the surprising thing is that people of refinement are not 
offended by such barbarous exhibitions. 

A fourth advantage that told very much in favour of the Medieval 
styles was, that contemporaneously with their re-introduction the 
feehng arose that both ornament and ornamental construction were 
indispensable in Chm'ch Architecture. Pillars were introduced in the 
interiors where they impeded l)oth seeing and hearing, and towers were 
placed in the intersections where they endangered the construction ; 
but they were thought beautiful, or at least correct, and no one com- 


plained. In like manner chancels were introduced for effect, galleries 
and pews were abolished, coloured marbles, stained glass, painted 
ceilings, and decorations of every class Avere added. All these were 
assmiied most erroneously to be j^arts of the style, but nine-tenths of 
them would have been as applicable, and possibly more effective, in 
any other. 

During the Renaissance period, though the architect was sometimes 
allowed to ornament his construction, he was very rarely allowed to 
construct ornamentally. In almost all cases his chm'ch must be a 
rectangular room, a fourth or a fifth longer than its width ; and the 
most essential condition of his instructions always was, that no space 
must be wasted, but that his building must be so arranged as to 
accommodate the largest possible congregation, and in doing so to take 
care that all shall see and hear perfectly. Pews and galleries are con- 
sequently insisted upon. Colour was not tolerated ; and if plaster 
would do, no architect was allowed to use a more costly material. 
Under these circumstances, no fair comparison can be drawn between 
the two styles as practised in this country. 

In addition to all this, it must be borne in mind that at the time 
of the Revival the public began, for the first time for nearly three 
hundred years, to tcike a real interest in arcliitectural matters. Xot 
only are the clergy now generally very well versed in Gothic 
Ai'chitecture, but so also are the bulk of the better classes in their 
congregations. Together they not only take an unusual interest in 
the construction of a new church, or the restoration of an old one : but 
they are able to guide and control their architect, to judge who is 
really the best skilled man for their pm'poses, and to see that his 
design is up to the mark and that he does his work efficiently. 

In the Renaissance times the vestry and the churchwardens 
settled who was to build their church, and the sum he was to spend 
upon it. That done, the architect was left to his own devices. No 
one cared much, or could judge, what his design might be like, till it 
was too late to alter it ; and when it was finished, they contente(J 
themselves with criticising it, without seeking to remedy its defects. •^. 

If the idea of introducing a new style had taken possession of th^ 
pubhc mind at the same time that it adopted the Mediaeval, and if ai 
Modern style of Art had been fostered under the circumstances Avhich 
have just been enumerated as so favourable to the progress of the 
. Gothic, we may feel sure that we should by this time have created a. 
style worthy of the nineteenth century, and that we should laugh ia 
astonishment at any man who would now propose to erect a church or 
other building after the pattern of the Middle Ages. 

If we add to these advantages the knowledge of the fact that th< 
rising generation of architects Avork infinitely harder, and take fi 
more interest in thek work, than diQ the easy-going gentlemen of th« 



last generation, and that a class of art- workmen are fast springing 
u\) to aid them in carrying out their designs, it will be easily under- 
stood with what advantage the Gothic style starts on its competition 
with the Classic, in so far at least as Church Architecture is concerned. 
When all this coincides with a strong bias of religious feeling, the 
pure Classic may be considered as distanced for the time, and never, 
probably, will be able to compete with the Media3^■al again ; and the 
connnon-sense style is not yet born which alone can free us from the 
degrading trammels of either. 

Before Pugin took the matter in hand, considerable progress had 
been made towards producing correct Gothic chm"ches. The model 
generally adopted was Bishop Skirlaw's chapel, at the village of that 
name in Yorksliire, which was published, with illustrations, in the 
fourth volume of Brittou's ' Architectural Antiquities.' Like the 
model, most of these churches were in the Perpendicular style of 
Gothic, which was then thought the most essentially constructive and 
elegant form in so far especially as window-tracery was concerned ; 
and such churches as St. Luke's, Chelsea, the York Place Chapel, and 
tlie Cathedral at Edinburgh, the Eoman CathoUc Cathedral, Glasgow^ 
and many others, which every one may recall, belong to this style. 
These are all Gothic in their details, and correct enough in this 
respect ; but all fail in consequence of being essentially Protestant in 
their aiTangements, None of them have deep chancels, in which the 
clergy can be segregated from the laity. They have no sedilia, no 
reredos, nor any of those properties now considered as essential ; worse 
than this, they have generally galleries, which, though affording a 
greatly increased accommodation to the congregation, are now not 
tolerable ; and where painted glass is introduced, good drawing and 
elegant colouring had to be employed, after the fashion of Sir 
Joshua Pteynolds's window at New College, Oxford, or West's at 
Windsor : — all which are very incongruous with the aim of xlrchitec- 
tm'e in the present day. 

If we compare the two rival churches of St. Luke's, Chelsea 
(AVoodcut Xo. 215), and St. Pancras (Woodcut No. 196), Avhich were 
being erected simultaneously in London, and both in dimensions and 
arrangements are very similar to one another, we shaU find very little 
to choose lietween them according to the present doctrines. It is the 
custom to call St. Pancras Pagan, and consequently detestable ; but 
not even the most blind partisan can fail to see in it that it is a 
Protestant place of worship of the nineteenth century, which is all it 
pretends to be. It is not a good design, as was pointed out above, and 
unnecessarily expensive ; but it fulfils all the conditions its designer 
intended, with as much success as St. Luke's ; and, as that is now 
rejected as un-Gothic by the puiiSts of the present day, it really 



Book IV. 

"becomes a question, in so far as these tAvo cliurches are eoncernt'd, 
■whether the Gothic or the Grecian ornament is the most elegant, or 
which is capable of producing the best effect at a given cost. The one 
is not a temple, though it pretends to be : and the other is not a 
MediiBval church, though its architect fancied it might be mistaken 
for one ; and they can only, therefore, be classed as failures, with 
little to choose between them. 

Before this last church, however, was completed, the pulilic had be- 
come sufficiently instructed, 
through the labours of Brit- 
ton, Eickman, and others, 
to see it was not Gothic, 
and demanded of the archi- 
tects sometliing more cor- 
rect. Xothing was easier. 
Every library furnished the 
requisite materials, every 
village chm'ch was a model ; 
neither thought nor in- 
genuity was requii'ed. Any 
man can learn to copy, and 
every architect soon learned 
to do so. So that now there 
is not a town, scarcely a 
village in the length and 
breadth of the land, which 
is not furnished with one 
of those forgeries ; and so 
cleverly is this done in most 
instances, that, if a stranger 
were not aware that forgery 
is the fashion instead of 
being a crime, he might 
mistake the counterfeit for 
a really old Mediaeval 
215. AVest Front of St. Luke's, Chelsea. chiurch. There are none 

of them, however, which 
possess sufficient merit of their own to make it a matter of regret thai 
they cannot be particularised in this place. 

It would be as tedious as uninteresting to enumerate even a tent 
of the fierce castles or secluded abbeys, the Tudor palaces, the Eliza-j 
bethan mansions or monastic villas, that during the last forty years; 
have been built in this wealthy but artless land. There may be much 
to enjoy, but there is little to admire, in these curious productions.^ 
For our present piu-pose it will only be necesaaiT to allude to tliree 



great secular public buildings, which suflBcienily illustrate the recent 
progress and present position of the art. 

The first of these is Windsor Castle, where restorations, amounting 
almost to a rebuilding, were commenced in 1826, under the superin- 
tendence of Sir Jeffrey TVyatville. Nothing could be more legitimate 
than the operation then attempted. The palace had been verv much 
degraded by alterations at a ]:>eriod when Gothic Architecture was 
dtspised, and the question arose, when it was again determined to fit 
it as a Royal residence, whether to ftersevere in modernising it, or to 
restoi"e it in the style in which it was originally built ? The former 
course was hardly possible without almost pulling the castle down and 
rebuilding it : and nothing could well have l^een more happy than the 
mode in which the second plan was carried out. Instead of attempt- 
ing to make it, like some modem castles, as if it really was intended 
to defend it with bows and arrows against some ancient enemy, Sir 
Jeffrey boldly adopted the idea of making it appear as if it was an 
ancient building fitted for a Royal residence in the nineteenth century : 
but he did so using only — externally at least — ^the details and forms of 
the age of the Edwards and Henrys, so that the eye of the artist is not 
offended by any incongruities, and the man of common sense knows 
that it is a palace, and a palace only, that he is looking at. TVith these 
elements he not only retained, but improved, the Gothic outline of its 
original builders, and added a magnificence they were inc-apable of 
conceiving. Internally he was not so fortunate, — ^partly to meet the 
views of his Royal patron, and it may be also that funds sufficient were 
not available, but there is a poverty about some of the apartments, and 
a Belgravian drawing-room air about others, which is hardly worthy 
of the place. It must, however, be added that few architects could 
devote to the task time sufficient to design the details of every room 
separately, and there did not then exist a class of qualified assistants 
capable of taking the trouble off his hands. Xotwithstanding all this, 
no modern building of the class has so good an excuse for adopting a 
Mediaeval guise, or wears it more artistically, than this : and no one 
more happily combines the Itixury and convenience of a modem palace 
with the castellated form which the barbarous state of society forced 
on our forefathers. 

The second great building alluded to above is the Houses of Par- 
liament. Here it was determined to go a step further. Xot only the 
exterior, but every room and every detail of the interior, was to be of 
the Tudor age. Even the sculpture was to be of the stiff formal style 
of that period : Queen Victoria and her Royal uncles and anc-estors 
from Elizalxfth downwards were all to be clothed in the garb of the 
earlier period, and have their names inscribed in the illegible characters 
then current. Every art and every device was to be employed to 
prove that histoiy was a myth, and that the British sovereigns from 


Chap. V. 



Elizabeth to Yictoria all reigned before the two last Henrys ! Or yon 
are asked to belieye that Henry YII. foresa^y all that the Lords and 
Connnons and Committees would require in the nineteenth century, 
and proyided this building for their accommodation accordingly. The 
Hindoos were actuated by the same childish spirit when thej wrote 
their past history in the prophetic form of the Puranas. The trick 
hardly deceiyes eyen the ignorant Indian, and does not certainly impose 
on any Englishman. 

Apart from this absurdity, for which the architect was not rtspon- 
sible, the building can hardly be called a success at all commensurable 
with its dimensions or the richness of its decorations. . An architect of 
Su- Charles Barry's taste and knowledge could hardly haye failed to 


River Front of tbe I'ariiameat Houses. From a I'liotograjili. 

perceiye that a certain amount of regularity and symmetry was iu- 
dispensable to the dignity of a great building, and that frequently it 
was allowable , to sacrifice internal conyenience to a certain extent in 
order to obtain this ; and generally that it was better to do so than to 
thrust forward eyery engineering or domestic exigence exactly where 
it may be most conyeniently situated, in order to get that class of 
truthfulness which it is now so much the fashion to clamour for. It 
may, howeyer, be the case that Barry did carry the principle too far 
when he made the Speaker's House and Black Rod's apartments exact 
duplicates of one another, and made both of the same ordhiance as the 
libraries and committee-rooms between them. But hayuig once adopted 
this principle of design, there can be no doubt but that it should haye 
been carried out in all jmrts of the building ; and it was unpardonable 


to adopt three towers of such different design as those wliich form the 
principal features of tlie structure, and to arrange them so unsym- 
metrically as has been done. 

The truth of the matter seems to be that Barry, finding himself forced 
to eni}»loy the Gothic style against his own better judgment, first adopted 
that form of it which most nearly approached to modern times, and most 
readily adapted itself to the uses and elegances of our own times, and 
then used it with that symmetry which is indispensable to dignity in 
architectural art to as great an extent as the principles of Gothic Art 
would allow. Since Barry's time, however, we have advanced so far 
towards absolute purism that these things would not be tolerated now. 
The style of the Parliament Houses is already obsolete, and looked on 
with horror by the present school of Gothic architects. Everything 
we have learnt or acquired since the thirteenth century is to be abso- 
lutely ignored in the New Palace of Justice, and we are to retm'n to 
the " Saturnia regna " of these barbarous ages. The one hope for 
Architecture is that it will prove such a reductio ad ahswdum that the 
feshion will have passed away before it is finished. The fashion 
of the style of the Parliament Houses lasted between thirty and forty 
years, and that is as long as any absurdity of the sort can expect to 
live in these days of activity and progress. 

Following out the principle of the river front, the central dome 
ought beyond all question to have been the principal feature of the 
design, and nothing could have been easier than to make it so. Its 
cross section now is 70 ft. externally ; that of the Victoria Tower %'2, 
exclusive of the angle towers. That of the Octagon could easily have 
been increased to any desired extent ; and if the four galleries that lead 
into it had been raised so as to be seen above the ordinary level of the 
building, and the Octagon with its increased base carried at least 100 ft. 
higher, the whole design would have gained inmiensely in dignity.^ 

As it now is, the Victoria Tower is 325 ft. high to the top of the 
pinnacles ; the Clock Tower, 314 ; but the central Octagon is only 266, 
and terminates upwards in a much more attenuated form than the 
other two. 

Besides tliis defect in the general arrangement of the design, the 
position of the Victoria Tower as it now stands has a fatal effect in 
dwarfing those portions of the building in immediate contact with it. 

In the original design this tower was intended to be of six storeys 
in height, each storey four windows in width, and with no feature 
larger than those of the edifice to which it w^as attached. Had this 
been adhered to, the tower would have been much more beautiful than 
it now is, but, owing to an unfortunate peculiarity of the architect's 

' This arrangement is the o;rcat charm of the dtsign of Fonthill Abbey (Woodcut 
No. 21-1), though tliere it is marred by exaggeration in tlie opposite direction. 


iiiiiid, he never remamed satisfied with his original designs, though 
these were generally wor.derfully perfect. The consequence was that 
the entrance to the tower, instead of being only the height of two 
storeys of the building, as was first proposed, now rises through all 
foiu', and makes the adjacent House of Lords absolutely ridiculous. If 
the size of the gateway is appropriate, the Lords are pigmies. If they 
are men of ordinary stature, the gateway is meant for giants. Worse 
than this, at the back of this great arch is a little one, one-fourth its 
height, through which everything that enters under the large arch 
must pass also.^ Unfortunately the whole tower is carried out on the 
same system (see Frontispiece). The six original storeys are enlarged 
into three, and all their parts exaggerated. The result of this is that 
the tower looks very much smaller than it really is, and it is difficult 
indeed to believe that it is as high as the dome of St. Paul's ; but the 
effect of this exaggeration on tiie adjoining fa9ade is even more disas- 
trous. It would perhaps l)e difficult to produce in the whole range of 
Architecture a more exquisite piece of surface decoration than the 
facade of the House of Lords, from the tower round the end of West- 
minster Hall to the Law Courts ; but as it has no horizontal lines 
sufficient to give it shadow, it wants vertical breaks to give it dignity 
and strength. This could easily have been supplied by maldng the 
entrance to the House of Lords higher, and by raising it also the 
architect would have given dignity and meaning to the whole ; but by 
placing a long unbroken line of building in immediate juxtaposition 
Avith an exaggerated vertical mass, he has done all that was possible 
to destroy two things which his own exquisite taste had rendered 
beautiful in themselves. 

Internally nothing can well be happier than the mode in which 
Barry appropriated Westminster Hall and its cloister as the grand 
entrances to the Parliament Houses ; and the fom* great arteries meeting 
in a central Hall were also well worthy of his genius ; and the octa- 
gon itself may be considered both internally and externally to be the 
most successful attempt yet made to build a Gothic dome. Its dimen- 
sions are practically 60 ft. diameter by 60 ft. in height ; ^ and as it is 
entirely lighted from below its springing, these proportions arc singu- 
larly happy. If the central octagon at Ely, which is 10 or 12 feet wider, 
had been completed in the same way, it would have been even more 
beaiitiful, but it is doubtful whether the system could be carried much 

^ The clear height of the external . these dhnensions us 55 ft. by 59, but 
archway is 50 ft. ; of tlie internal, 15 ft. I the first is from capital to capital of the 

- It is extremely difficult to quote the j vavilting shafts; the second to the under- 
dimensions in plan of a Gothic dome witli side of the ribs. On the ground the first 
anything like precision. In a paper read dimension measures at least GO ft. from 
by Mr. Edward Barry to the Institute of wall to wall. 
British Architects, in June 1857, he gives , 




with o-ood effect. The snialhiess of the parts would prol)ahly 
offensive with a dome 100 ft. diameter ; and with dimensions 

beyond these it is difficult to see 
how a Gotliic dome could be carried 
out. This is indeed one of the de- 
fects of Gothic Architecture as ap- 
plied to modern uses. Even the 
most bigoted Gothicists admit that 
the dome is the most beautiful, as 
it is the cheapest and most easily 
constructed, form of permanent roof- 
ing yet invented ; but they do not 
and dare not use it, because our 
forefathers in the Middle Ages 
were ignorant of its form and uses. 
No one felt the absurdity of this 
restraint more than Barry, but he 
did not dare to go beyond the above- 
quoted dimensions in this direc- 
tion, in the present instance, and 
so far with perfect success. The 
exterior, however, was even better 
than the interior. Nothiug is more 
truly and essentially Gothic in 
any modern design than the way in 
which the stonework is carried up 
ISO feet above the dome. It is what 
was done at Chiaravalle,^ and was 
intended at Florence,^ and what Sir 
Christopher Wren did rather clum- 
sily at St. Paul's :^ but is here done 
more truthfully and more elegantly 
than in any of these, and only 
misses perfection in so far that its 
dhnensions are necessarily small, 
and its architect could not comlnne 
the full rounded lines of the Classi- 
cal or Byzantine dome with the 
straight lines to which Gothic Art 
is unfortunately confined.* 

Section of Central Octagon, Parliament 
Scale 50 feet tu 1 inch. 

' ' History of Architecture,' vol. ii., p. 
208. 2 Ibid., vol. i., p. 206. 

^ Ante, Woodcut 175. 

* A stone spiie, very much like this in 
general outline, hut of course in an earlier 

style, was no doubt originally intended to 
have crowned the intersection at Ely : 
not the wretched temporary wooden 
makeshift whicli has recently been re- 
stored with such ludicrous reverence. 

Chap. V. 



The beauty of tliis central dome, both internally and externally, 
goes as far as anytliinij,' in the Houses of Parliament can do to 
make amends for the cruel mistake Barry made in destroyhig \yhat 
remained of the beautiful chapel of the Edwards, for which there was 
no excuse beyond that loye of uniformity which, though desirable in 
Italian, is liy no means equally so in Gothic Art, while its loss must 
always remain a sul)ject of regret. We may also regret on general 
principles the adoption here of a style in many respects unsuitable for 
the purposes to which these buildings are applied. But taking it all in 
all, it is perhaps the most successful attempt to apply Medii^yal Archi- 
tectm-e to modern ciyic purposes which has yet been carried out ; and, 
barring the defects in .conception pointed out aboye, it is probable that 
the difficulties of the attempt are so great that we can hardly expect 
to see another which shall be more successful. 

New Museum at Oxford. From a Photograph. 

The third building chosen to illustrate the downward j)rogress 
of the art is the New Museum at Oxford. This was designed to be 
Gothic in conception, Gothic in detail, and Gothic in finish. Nothing 
\yas to betray the hated and hateful nineteenth century, to the cultiya- 
tion of whose sciences it was to be dedicated. Unfortunately the style 
selected on this occasion was not English Gothic, for, the architects 
haying exhausted all the specimens found in their books, and, accord- 
ing to the new canons of Art, being obliged to be original without 
being allowed to inyent, they haye latterly in consequence been forced 
to borrow from Germany or Lombardy such features as are yet new 
to the English public. Generally speaking, these foreign forms and 
yoL. ir. I 


details are neither so beautiful nor so appropriate as our own : but if 
the architect can produce a certificate of origin, and prove that he has 
copied and not invented them, the public are satisiied that all the 
exigencies of true Art have been complied Avith. 

The roof of the Great Central Hall of the Oxford Museum, and the 
iro)i-work that supports it, are made purposely clumsy and awkward. 
The Lecture-rooms are cold, draughty, and difficult to speak in. The 
liibrary is a long, ill-proportioned gallery, with a rudely-constructed 
roof, painted in the crudest and most inharmonious colours ; the win- 
dows glazed in the least convenient manner with the worst possible 
glass ; and the bookcases arranged, not to accommodate books, but to 
look monkish. You take a book from its press, and are astonished to 
find that men who could spend thousands on thousands in this great 
forgery have not reprinted Lyell's ' Geology,' or Darwin's ' Origin of 
Species,' in black letter, and illuminated them, like the building, in 
the style of the thirteenth century. It is to be hoped that no stuffed 
specimen of the modern genus Felis will be introduced into the museum, 
or we may lose the illusion to be gained from contemplating the long- 
backed specimens of the Medieval species which crawl round the 
windows of the library in such strangely i^re-historic attitudes. The 
one really good point in the whole design is the range of pillars with 
their capitals which surround the inner court ; but they are good 
precisely because they are not Gothic. The shafts are simply cylinders 
of British marbles ; the capitals adorned with representations of plants 
and animals, as like nature as the material and the skill of the artist 
would admit of, and as unlike the Gothic cats of the facade as two 
representations of the same class of objects can well be made. On 
wandering further you enter what seems a kitchen of the age of that 
at Glastonbury, and find a professor, not practising alchemy, but 
repeating certain experiments you believe to be of modern invention : 
and the only relief you experience is to find that his thermometer and 
barometer and other instruments must, from the style of their orna- 
ments belong to an age long anterior to that when those impostors 
Torcelli, or Galileo, or Newton, are said to have invented these 

If the student of Architecture gains Init very little gratification in 
an artistic point of view from a visit to the Oxford Museum, he may 
at least come away consoled with the reflection that the Syndics of 
that learned University have gone far in producing a reductio ad 
cihsurdum ; and that a system \vhich results in such a mass of contra- 
dictions and niaiseries as are found here is too childish long to occupy 
the serious attention of grown-up men, and when the fashion passes 
away we may hope for something better. Till it does, Architecture is 
not an art that a man of sense would care to practise, or a man of taste 
woul(^ care to study. 


The great lesson we have jet to learn before progress is again 
possible is, that Arclirzology is not Architect u re. It is not even Art in 
any form, but a Science, as interesting and instrnctive as any other ; 
but from the very nature of things it can neither become an art, nor 
in any way take the place of one. Our present mistake is, first, in 
insisting that our architects must ])e archaeologists ; and fancying, in 
the second place, that a man who lias mastered the science is necessarily 
a proficient in the art. Till this error is thoroughly exploded, and 
till Architecture is practised only for the sake of supplying the greatest 
amount of convenience attainable, combined with the niost appropriate 
elegance, there is no hope of improvement in any direction in which 
Architecture has hitherto progressed. 

As the case at present stands, the Gothic style has obtained entii'e 
possession of the Church ; and any architect who would propose to 
erect an ecclesiastical edifice in any other style would simply be laughed 
at. It is employed also, exclusively or nearly so, for schools and 
parsonage-houses — generally, wherever the clergy have influence this 
style is adopted. If it is true that the Gothic period was tiie best 
and i^urest of the Christian Church, and that we are now in this respect 
exactly where we were between the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries, 
this is perfectly logical and correct ; but if we have progressed, or been 
refined, or take a different view of these matters from the one then 
taken, the logic will not hold good ; l)ut this the architect is not called 
upon to decide. 

On the other hand, the Classical styles still retain a strong hold 
on town-halls and municipal buildings. Palaces are generally in this 
style, and club-houses have hitherto successfully resisted the encroach- 
ments of the enemy ; and but very recently all the domestic and 
business buildings of our cities were in the non-Gothic styles. In 
this country, mansions and villas are pretty equally divided between 
the two, and it is difficult to estimate which is gaining ground at this 
moment. Generally it may be said that the Gothic is the style of the 
clergy, the Classical that of the laity ; and though the buildings of 
the latter are the most numerous, those of the former are the most 
generally architectural. 

For the philosophical student of Art it is of the least possible 
consequence which may now be most successful in encroaching on 
the domains of its antagonist. He knows that both are wrong, and 
that neither can consequently advance the cause of true Art, His 
one hope lies in the knowledge that there is a " tertvum quid,^'' a style 
which, for want of a better name, is sometimes called the Italian, 
but should be called the Common Sense style. This, never having 
attained the completeness which debars all further progress, as was 
the case in the purely Classical or in the perfected Gothic styles, 
not only admits of, but insists on, progress. It courts borrowing 

I 2 


principles aud forms from either. Ir can use either pillai-s oi 
pinnacles as may be required. It admits of towers, aud spires, oi 
domes. It can either indulge in plain walls, or pierce them with 
inniunerable windows. It knows no guide but common-sense : it 
owns no master biu true taste. It may hardly be possible, however, 
because it requires the exercise of these qualities : and more than 
this, it demands thought, where copying has liitherto sufficed : and it 
courts originality, which the present system repudiates. Its greatest 
merit is that it admits of that progress by wliich alone man has 
hitherto accomphshed anything gi"eat or good, either in Literatiu'e. in 
Science, or in Art. 

[A CoiDiox Sen'se Style. — Oiu- author is only exemplifying Ms 
customary straightforward way of thinking when at the close of this 
chapter he so boldly claims for " the Italian *' the recognition due not 
merely to a " Common Sense '" style, but to the only mode that deserves 
that apparently simple title with relation to the recjuirements of the 
present age. At the time he wrote thus " the Battle of the Styles " was 
at its height ; and his argument would Ije that '' the Classic " of the one 
camp and " the Gothic " of the other were equally imsuitable to the 
time thei pjissing, and equally iri'ational in their attitude towards each 
other as rivals before that tribunal of pubUc opinion whose judgment 
they were both so noisily challenging. In this view of the case he saw 
in " the Italian/' as an abstraction, a connecting or even combining 
formula, possessing all the useful elements of both Classic and Gothic, 
and being in itself more common-sensible than either. So far so well. 
But what does he mean by '* the ItaHan " ? Is it the style of Bany's 
then i>opular works, such as the Travellers" Club-house ( Xo. :35(J ). Bridge- 
wat«r House (Xo. 352), Halifax Town Hall (Xo. 356), and Clumber 
(Xo. 354 1 ? If so, here again the student must be invited to think for 
himself, and may especially inqiure whether this " Italian " is not in 
reaUty merely a single mode in a far wider province of design. To 
suggest that the formula of the gigantic Greek portico of the British 
Museum, as the leading idea of extreme Classic, goes too far in one 
direction, and the gigantic Victoria Tower too far in the other, is easy 
enough ; but if any one is asked to proceed to show any " Itahan " 
system of design which not only avoids both of these extremes, but 
connects them by occupving all the serviceable intervening ground, 
— combining (so to speak) TTestminster Hall with the Albert Hall, and 
"Westminster Abbey with St. Paul's — this is a proposition that may well 
startle the practical designer. At the same time we may be sm-e that 
our author had a shrewd argument in his mind, although he may have 
been unable to express it in technical logic. A Modem European style 
(he would say), a conmion sense mode for working out any architectural 
problem for any modern European purpose, there must of necessity lye. 
— Granted. — Call it " Italian " for excusable and indeed obvious reasons. 


— Granted again. — Then try (he would addj what can be done with this 
style by the mere exercise of common sense, and the problem will solve 
itself and the common-sensibleness of the mode be manifested. 

Of com'se the term " common sense " is vague and imscientifie ; 
he means what is otherwise called — quite as vaguely — good ser^e, the 
avoidance of those personal whims, or incidental fashions, or unconscious 
traditional affectations, or too ambitious pretensions, over which all 
artists are, and always have been, prone to stumble. Xow the argu- 
ment is no doubt well meant, but what does it amoimt to after all ? 
Merely this, that the abstract Modem Em'opean style — Italian in so 
far that it had its rise in Italy — is the natural or "" common sense " 
style for that modem European phase of civilisation of which it forms 
a pait. "Without any such process of reasoning, its imiversal acceptance 
and evolution throughout modem Europe proves its right to reign, and, 
if we speak strictly in the theoretical abstract, no more need be said. 
But the concrete qiTestions at issue are still untouched: namely, how far 
tliis accepted style has been abused and adulterated in practice, and 
by what process of reform its character for conmion sense, or good sense, 
or authentic suitability is to be rehabilitated. One thing at least may 
be said : — it is not by " reviving " exotic forms of ancient Art for 
amusement, not by the encouragement of experimental masquerade, not 
liy the acceptance of histrionic and bizarre blandishments, that the 
common sense of gracious building can ever be amved at. Revivals 
perish with the using : masquerade provokes ridicule when the daylight 
shines upon it : and in Art, as in all else, the histrio is only a histrio. not 
a hero. Perhaps the best way in which to invoke the influence of 
corumon sense in the architectm-e of our modem England (a country 
somewhat given to boasting of its common sense") is to invite some of 
our architects to be a good deal less eager as "great artists" after 
academical (or non-academical) display, and a very great deal more 
painstaking as good workers in the elaboration of those simple graces of 
proportion and detail which always constitute the most enduring merits 
of any architectm'al composition, and for whose al>sence no amount of 
academicalism or of enthusiastic non-academicalism, or of no\"elry, or of 
courage of any sort, can ever compens<\te. — Ed.] 

[The Exglish Goverxmext axd the Architects. — It is pretty 
well understood, and ought not to lie ignored, that for many years pist 
the representatives of the Government in London haxe l>een as a rule 
seriously dissatisfied with the architects whom they have employed in 
the execution of great public buildings. In reply to such complaints, 
it has been argued that the ty]>ical English gentlemen who control 
Parliament and who (as Disraeli puts it) are "devoted to field sports, 
know no language but their own. and never read." are, in respect of 
architecture esjiecially, utter Philistines or utilitarians, whose supreme 
authority over the building operations cf the nation, when compared 


M-itli the more enlightened behaviour of continental goverinnents, is a 
misfortune wliich has to be regarded as " part of the price we pay for 
our liberties." No doubt there is a good deal of truth in this, and 
much cause for regret sometimes in the circumstance that the artistic 
affairs of such a nationality as ours are not in some degree committed 
to the care of persons selected for the pm'pose on account of actual 
acquaintance with artistic matters. But on the other hand it is still 
desirable to discover whether there is anything in the position of pro- 
fessional architecture in England which goes to justify the discontent 
of a whole class of men whose claim to represent the sound sense of the 
country cannot be disputed. Is it in sober truth the inherent 
Philistinism of British legislators that has produced the unsatisfactory 
character of our public edifices, or is it any nonsensical attitude on the 
part of architects that has caused a Philistine policy to be adopted by 
the Legislature in self-defence ? The answer of a great many very well 
meaning and very well qualified persons will be that the fault lies in a 
great measure with the architects. Take the case of any public com- 
petition of designs on a grand scale of which the reader may happen to 
possess a personal recollection. Can he say with any sincerity that 
common sense was a marked characteristic of the most prominent 
drawings submitted ? Take again the case of any great public building 
which has been executed in London, from the days of the British 
Museum and the Houses of Parliament to the present time. Can he 
say that common sense is a leading motive in its composition ? The 
new Post Office in the City is an instance in point. Most architects 
were offended when that important edifice was not only projected 
without a comj3etition, but carried into execution without any archi- 
tectural direction except that of the unconspicuous officials of the 
Public Works Department. It was pronounced, even by the most 
moderate men, to be an opportunity thrown away. Now the exterior 
design is certainly not of those polished artistic proportions which 
would have cost nothing but pains and skill. The interior may perhaps 
be worse in that respect than the exterior. But compare the building as 
an organic device with the old Post Office on the other side of the way, 
a work of which Sir Robert Sniirke was considered to be justly proud ; 
or with the same architect's British Museum : or with Barry's Houses 
of Parliament ; or with Street's Law Courts. In each of these cases, 
how much of the common sense of careful disposition and expressive 
appropriateness, of the repose of usableness, of the indescribable com- 
pleteness of perfect convenience, has been deliberately and (as many 
very good people would plainly say) maliciously compromised for the 
sake of — what ? No one knows what, except academical architects; and 
even they are not of one . mind about it. In a word, the idea that has 
become fixed in the minds of such men of business as are at the head of 
our national affairs seems to be very much hke this :- — that an English 


architect, when entrusted with any important work, hegins at the wrong 
end, and, as an inevitable consequence, misses the proper object of the 
enterprise ; begins with style, fashion, masquerade, histrionics, or wliat- 
ever we may choose to call his perverted desire for spurious display, goes 
up at the beginning like the rocket and comes down at the end like the 
stick. This is, no doubt, putting the case strongly ; but it re(|uires to 
be put strongly, for there cannot be any reason why English architects 
and the English Government should not be able to act in harmony, if 
the architects will only consent to do their work (as the phrase now goes) 
scientifically, begiiuiing with the skeleton 'and ending with the skin. 
There is a very pretty motto which has been played upon for many 
years by the junior architectural society of London, " Design in Beauty, 
Build in Truth." Does the maxim " Design in Beauty," iu being 
placed foremost in order, signify something which may be a weakness 
in our architectural philosophy ? True Art seems rather to be to design 
in truth as the initial principle, and to see to concurrent grace as the 
consecutive. To sketch on paper first a beautiful ideal edifice, and then 
construct it honestly and no more in stone, is quite another thing ; 
and such a system may surely become the source of infinite mis- 
adventure.— Ed.] 

[The Right Use of Precedents in Style. — The academical 
doctrine which prevailed so long in the practice of Modern Architecture, 
and most notal)ly in England, that the designer was bound to produce 
'* authority " for every portion of his design in the form of ancient 
precedent, is never attempted to be justified now iu any sense which 
seems to involve the idea that a mysterious superiority is necessarily the 
attribute of antifjuity. One of the great German thinkers expresses a 
sound principle when he says, " We ourselves are the true ancients ; our 
forefathers were younger thau we." At the same time, this form cf 
words itself suggests a meaning, especially applicable to Art, which is the 
^•ery opposite of what we at first sight accept : for, if the ancients were 
younger, their judgment was less sophisticated. The espacial charm of 
the Art of the ancient Greeks, for example, is, in spite of its 
primitiveness, its incomparable freshness : they " walked with the gods 
in the resplendent air," with the elastic step of youth, in the ineffable 
vitality of the springtime of genius. But a similar juvenescence is 
clearly discoverable also, in various forms and various degrees, at other 
epochs of art-history, in painting and sculpture, in poetry and music, 
iu architecture itself, and in several of the minor arts. Nor is this all ; 
for every age of any merit, in whatever art, will be found to have 
l)equeathed to us its quota of happy inspirations. And this is the case 
in architecture, perhaps, so much more than in almost any other art, 
that the inheritance which has thus descended to us has become 
indispensably useful in our own day, in view of the enlarged extent of 
the individual architect's operations, and the haste in which they have 


to be perfomied. He is obviously entitled and expected to avail 
himself to the utmost of his knowledge of examples, just as the votary 
of any other pursuit of a scientific or systematised character must l)eg'in 
where his predecessors left off. Copying, in this sense, is inevitable ; or 
otherwise each individual would have to attempt the absurd task of 
inventing a manner for himself. In other words, a style in architecture, 
or even one form of a style, is a product of intellect which is found to 
require the co-operation of a multitude of experimenters during a long 
period of time ; and its acceptance when appropriate, with the 
acceptance of all its details, is copyism unavoidal)le and as matter-of- 
course. But to copy in this way ought surely to involve the obligation 
to attempt an improvement upon the precedent ; and to achie^■e this 
end every designer is bound to do his best. Men of average ability 
will leave things a very little advanced ; inferior men will do nothing, 
or less ; but the superiors of the day may always " leave their footprints 
on the sands of time." 

Piracy, and even forgery, are ungracious terms that have occasionally 
been used by critics of modern architecture. Of course there are such 
offences in the abstract ; but what are they in practice ? To copy 
from the books is not forgery ; to imitate another man's work is not 
piracy. On the contrary, if we regard the current works of the day in 
the generous light of co-operative experiments for the advancement of 
the art at large in the connnunity;, or throughout the world, every 
designer is in duty bound to study the experiments of others, not only 
past, but present, and to do his utmost to improve upon them And it 
is obvious that this, in a somewhat different form, is exactly what takes 
place, and frequently almost unconsciously. Not only does the pupil 
adopt the manner of his master, and the admirer the manner that he 
admires, but the rival studies the rival's work for the very sake of 
rivalry. So far so well, and the lex non srn'pfa of honesty and fair 
dealing may be trusted always to assert itself. But when this law is 
violated, piracy may certainly be charged, and so may forgery. Piracy 
in architecture is the stealing of another's brain-work as if in the face 
of the public and by violence. It cannot be prevented, but there is this 
consolation, that in these days the particular circumstances to which 
new buildings have to be accommodated are so multifarious, and the 
feeling of personal self-sufficiency in most architects so pronounced, 
that not much in the way of any palpable kind of appropriation has to 
be contended Avith. Then, as regards forgery, the chief practical 
qiiestion seems to be whether we are to apply the ugly word to the work 
of " the architect to the trade." If so, what are we to say of the work of 
the " managing clerk " ? At any rate the use of such terms to express 
disapproval of mere copying, or of the practice of counterfeit, is 
certainly not to be encouraged. — Ed.] 





[The Epoch of 1851.-^(See first the argument on this epoch in 
the Preface.) The condition of the English architectural world at head- 
quarters in 1851 may be thus briefly described. The most prominent 
architects were Cockered, Barry, Hardwick, Smu'ke, members of the 
Royal Academy ; Donaldson and Tite, leaders at the Institute ; Pugin 
and Scott, chiefs of the advancing Gothic school ; and Digby Wyatt 
and Owen Jones, ornamentalists. Blore, Burn, and Burton (retired), 
also occupied a high position, and Pennethorne was the last official 
architect to the Government. Beresford-Hope, Parker, Ruskin, and 
Fergusson, were conspicuous literary amateurs. 

Barry had been l)usily occupied for some eleven or twelve years on 
the great work of the day, the pseudo-Gothic Houses of Parliament. 
Cockerell was delivering his graceful dilettantist lectures at the Royal 
Academy, and was known all over Em*ope as the English representative 
of extreme Greek refinement. Donaldson, the founder and indefatigable 
manager of the Institute of British Architects, was at his best ; not 
nmch of a working architect, but Professor at University College, and 
exponent in general of the lighter literature of the art and the more 
gracious interests of the profession at home and abroad, unwearied in 
correspondence, and genial as he was busy every day. Tite, although 
essentially a commercial magnate and a devotee of mere wealth, and 
I'hiefly, indeed, a "compensation-surveyor" and ally of auctioneers, 
(eventually a Meml)er of Parliament of very liberal views, commanding 
on that score the honour of knighthood), was nevertheless a man of 
substantial knowledge, artistic and anti(iuarian, and of powerful 
character as a stalwart upholder of the practical art and science of the 
high-class ordinary architect. Scott was young, beginning to be busy 
with new churches. Pugin, the author of a stormy little book called 
" The True Principles of Gothic Architecture," a wild, monastic, sea- 
loving eccentric, who had joined the Church of Rome in honour of 
Media2\-al Art, was still publishing fierce diatribes against the mockeries 
and shams of modern design, whilst diligently and with infinite 
enthusiasm exploring every nook and cranny of antique ecclesiastical 


work, from grand architectural ruins to painted prayer-books and 
erobroidered petticoats. SharjDe of Lancaster had just started, amidst 
much controversy, a new classification of Gothic Architecture by 
historical periods instead of discrimination of forms. Lastly, Owen 
Jones and Digby Wyatt, apparently the least in importance, were in one 
respect the chief ; for they represented in earnest practicability, as 
Pugin did in something more than earnest impracticability, the advent 
of that enlargement of the whole scope of Architectural Art which was 
to become characteristic of the new generation. 

The precise condition of architectural doctrine in 1S.")1 may at the 
j)resent day seem very peculiar. Professor Cockerell, whose personal 
taste was of the most fastidious Hellenic school, thought it his duty, 
not to himself, but to his work as a public teacher, to be what he 
called " catholic " — meaning thereby liberally, if vaguely, eclectic — 
admiring everything that he could, and despising nothing at all. 
Here are some of his expressions at the time : " The grammar and 
syntax of the art is to be acquired by a diligent study of the great 
writers Vitruvius, Alberti, Serlio, Palladio, Vignola, and Delorme." 
Again, " Vitruvius quotes from forty-one Greek writer* whose writings 
are lost : his work is the great text-book of antiquity." But on 
the other hand he was able to assure his students for their comfort that 
" the entire manner of Gothic construction would be found in the rules 
of Vitruvius," and he could tell them in the same breath that the 
gabled apse of a Herefordshire church was " symbolical of the Crown of 
Thorus," with much more of the same sort which it would be cruel to 
quote because of the obvious distress of the most courtly of academical 
lecturers under the incomprehensible eclecticism which his sense of 
duty was forcing upon him in evil days. Donaldson, again, was never 
weary of declaring in the very plainest of language how " the authority 
of antiquity " was something very much of the supernatural, if not even 
the divine ; and one of his favourite projects was to acquire for the 
Institute Library, as a supreme and all-sufficient store of wisdom, 
a collection of all the editions of Vitruvius. Following such teaching 
as this, not only the ordinary run of architectural practitioners, but the 
best of them, simply copied and counterfeited anything which they could 
find in the books to suit the purpose of the moment: and their criticism 
of each other's work consisted for the most part in calling for 
" precedent," whether in Classic or in Gothic, as the one thing needful. 
The Classic designs thus produced had at least the advantage of being 
vernacular ; for their mode was a phase of the accepted mode of three 
hundred years, and careful proportion and detail will cover many sins 
of style ; but the Gothic was generally odiously meagre and anomalous, 
and all the more so when the designer was urgently denouncing the 
counterfeits of his Classic brethren only to substitute his own. 

It was upon this ground that Pugin took up his position. What 


1r' deiuaiided was simply tliat the true principles of Gothic Art should 
hv studied aud acted upou because iu their very nature they were wholly 
true, aud iu uo way permissive of counterfeit, whether in respect of art 
or of construction. He would copy the Mediieval work, of course ; but 
he would copy it correctly in the spirit of the original, and not as a 
sham. The Classic he would not copy at all : it was anathema ; and 
here was the xevj potent and intelligible reason: — the Mediaeval was 
English, and it was also Christian ; the Classic was only Italian and 
Pagan, confessedly exotic and confessedly heathen ; and what more need 
be said .'' This contrast was largely accepted by young and thoughtful 
men, and was indeed gradually being acted upon, more especially in the 
more simple and plain kind of church-work which fa\'oured the 
experiment ; and out of this there naturally enough came before long 
" the Battle of the Styles." The too-liberal eclecticism of C^ockerell and 
Donaldson dissolved into a direct antagonism between the faint-hearted 
adherents of the Italian method of Modern Europe on the one side, and 
on the other the contemptuous advocates of the antecedent pre-RafFaelite 
method, which was vehemently declared to be the one genuine and good 
old European method, for some time superseded by a spurious and bad 
method, but a style with life in it still if it had room to breathe. 

Kuskin followed Pugin, and did a great deal to popularise the new 
doctrine, although in a different form. In this year LSol, he was 
accentuating the doctrines of his " Seven Lamps of Architecture " l)y 
publishing his " Stones of Venice." He was not an architect in any 
sense of the term, but a rhetorician ; and in the criticism of 
Architecture he was almost less than an amateur, his enthusiasm for 
the art, in the eyes of working architects, being only an affectation. 
His principles might perhaps be true, but they were so vaporised by the 
heat of style and eloquence as to be mere intangible fumes of principles. 
His books were jn-etty reading, no doubt, for idle people ; l)ut what 
could any architect say to such words as these ? — " If I should succeed, 
as I hope, in making the Stones of Venice touchstones, and detecting, 
liy the mouldering of her marble, poison more subtle than ever was 
betrayed by the rending of her crystal" — surely this could not be the 
^vay to regenerate the practical drawing-board ! Nor indeed was Venice 
the place for making the attempt, except in a dream. Ruskin's writings 
have l)een extremely, extravagantly popular with sentimental people, 
for great merits of their own — "greatest when maddest," it has ])een 
said — but his influence upon the craftsmanship of Architecture has 
been very small, if any. Nevertheless, although he has himself in his 
later days expressed a wish that he could obliterate half of all that he 
has ^\Titten, certainly it may be fairly answered that the world would be 
sorry to lose what he has ^^Titten on Architecture. Working architects 
must be permitted to say they cannot make sense of it : Iiut that the 
intention of every word of it has been to elevate and enhance the 


abstract appreciation of the ait not oue of them would wish to 

Fei'irusson was a A\Titer of an eniii'ely different order. In 1n")1. 
when Rnskiu was giving to the imbUc liis visionary " Stones of Venice,"" 
Fergtisson was piiblisliing (after his yolumes on India and Jerusalem). 
*' The Palaces of Xineveh and Persepolis Restored." Although as vet 
Ms chosen province of architectnral study seemed to be the antiquities 
of the East, he already showed the bent of his mind to be, itnlike 
Etiskin's, all in the direction of persevering and plodding exploration. 
He was no literary jnggler. bnt a hard-headed analytical critic : 
superficial to a certain extent in the severe eye of the working designer, 
but. so far as the study of the sm*face could go, a sober and sound 
exponent of whatever his patient research might discover. Wliile 
Ruskin was wheeling in empty air, Fergusson was laboriously treading 
terra Jirma. He had not made his mark as Rttskin had, but he was 
neither unknown nor unnoticed. 

The writings of "Whewell, Willis, and Parker, with some others of 
the same class, as antiquaries in" Ecclesiastical Arcliitecture, carried at 
this time more weight than was always desirable, but their practical 
influence on the ait was small. The name of Petit also was becoming 
kuo\vn, a clergyman who happened to possess, not merely enthusiasm 
for (lothic, but, what was at that time rare, a mastery of the pencil 
as a sketcher. 

But a still more conspicuous name was that of Beresford-Hope. 
TVhOe a student at the University not very long before this time, 
he had made himself prominent in ccmnection with the celebrated 
•• Cambridge Camden Society," which, although in full co-ojieration 
with the great " Oxford Movement," occupied itself more with the 
development of the material arts of so-called ecclesiology, than with the 
more dangerous resuscitation of old doctrine and discipline. Although 
Pugiu had been carried by his savage eccentricity quite beyond the Line 
of denominational demarcation which the Cambridge Camden Society. 
with all its enthusiasm, was determined to maintain, yet in everything 
that belonged to architectural criticism, Hope was an ardent supporter 
of the " true principles " of the Gothic ideal ; and by his distinguished 
social position he was enabled so successfully to assume the duties and 
responsibilities of a representative ecclesiologist. that in 1851 he had 
already acquired a high character amongst Churchmen. "With him. 
(rothic Art was not a matter of opinion or taste, but of consecrated 
Christian order : and in this he was so warmly supjxnted hj many able 
and earnest architects, that they were already acquiring the importance 
of a reforming party in the profession under his personal leadership. 

The Ln'terxatioxal Exhibitiox. — The spirit of vital change 
which was producing at this time such men as Pugin, Ruskin, Fergusson. 
and Hope, in the field of Academical Architecture, was of coui-se operating 


likewise in other provinces of artistic and industrial entei-prise. The 
I'hilistinism of half a dozen generations of English people of respect- 
ability was about to be assailed, and, in a word, the Internationa 
Exhil)ition of 1851 was to become a fresh starting-point for the Arts o 
the Victorian Age. 

The name of the Prince Consort mast now be introduced. Only 
ten years before he became associated with this celebrated undertaking, 
he had made his entry into London society in the conspicuous and 
trying position of the youthful husband of a youthful queen. As a 
carefully educated Gennan patrician, and a man of the highest aspu'a- 
tious after ideal and i^hilosophical beneficence, as well as practical 
refinement and cultm'e, the attitude which he promptly assumed was 
well indicated by the popular notion that he had been allowed by the 
Government to take charge of pliilanthropy and scholarship in retm'u 
for his keeping clear of politics. Literature, Science, and Art at once 
accepted him for a royal patron : and it must be confessed they 
had long been much in need of such patronage. Two incidents in 
particular may be here noticed ; namely, that he was appointed to 
preside over a royal commission for embellishing the new Palace of 
Parliament, and that the Society of Arts contrived to secm'e him for 
their president. It was thus that he was persuaded to listen to the 
projects of Henry Cole, out of which, so patronised, the Great Exhibi- 
tion was eventually develojjed. 

Cole had been knoAvii before this as a fugitive 'OTiter on the 
productions of industrial Ait : and recently, in conjunction with one or 
two adherents, he had conceived the idea that, if an Industrial Congress 
of the world at large could be brought about in London, the results 
must be such as these : — the brotherhood of all civilised nations in Art 
and Science would be manifested, to the great advantage of all : the 
supremacy of England in her own specialties would be manifested to 
her own still greater advantage : the importance of '" the minor arts," 
as emphatically not the poor relations of the Academical Arts but their 
equals, would be discerned, to the advantage of all intelligent industry, 
and this especially in England, where they were chiefly neglected : and 
sooner or later, the Government would be obliged to establish an eflBcient 
organisation for the much-needed advancement of public taste, as a 
moral and no less a corumercial influence of the utmost value. Cole 
and his friends, few in number and of little importance, could never 
have accomplislied much in this direction by their own imaided 
endeavoiu-s : but by the happy artifice of utilising the organisation of 
the somewhat obsolete Society of Ai'ts, aud persuading the Prince to 
place himself at its head — men and money flowing in abundantly then — 
they speedily accomplished all that could be desired. 

" South Kensington," as a department of the Government, eventually 
came into existence under the dictatoi-ship of Cole : and its success, in 


spite of many drawbacks, has l)e(.'n perfect, and the IMnsenm is supreme. 
Public taste has been not only advancing ever since, but radically changing; 
and, amongst the rest. Architecture has been expanding its embrace more 
and more from year to year till it now includes in the widest sense the 
whole empire of " Architectural Art." Although much has yet to be done 
in detail, the multifarious industries of furnishing, decorating, and adorn- 
ing buildings are now so effectually grouped in the public view around the 
central industry of the great Building Art of history, that the narrow 
and exclusive, and indeed spurious dignity of academicalism has greatly 
disappeared, and architectural work is now finding its shortest way to 
the appreciation of the English people, even the cultured classes, by 
following the lead of " the minor arts " which the people more readily 
understand. And so it has come al)out for the present that our fashion- 
able architectural manner — trivially called the " Queen Anne " — is in 
its true character merely the manner of the minor arts of decoration 
and furnishing, and of hrk-a-hrac ; crude and feeble as yet, and 
transient, but destined, let us hope, to pass before long into some 
more muscular and more permanent style, to the better credit of the 
important movement which it represents. 

At the same time, as regards the higher order of building-design we 
are not without cause for congratulation. The modern Classic style, 
which is, as it has always been since its origination, the standard mode 
on the continent of Europe, is constantly practised in England with 
sufficiently creditable success ; and the Revived lilediajval, now confined 
entirely to ecclesiastical work, has lost nothing conspicuously in that 
branch since the days of Pugin, while it has gained greatly by the 
abolition of the whole dejiartment of " Secular Gothic," of which the 
London Law Courts, a most al)le but most inajipropriate work, is the 
most ambitious effort, and the last. 

Architectueal Work in 1851. — In the beginning of the year 
1851 the position of current and recent architectural business was this. 
The Palace of Parliament had so far assumed an effective appearance 
externally as to present to the public eye a design at once exceedingly 
magnificent in the mass, graceful in proportion, bright in aspect, and 
abundantly elegant in detail ; somewhat monotonous and meretricious 
to the few j^urists who esteemed vigour and variety to be essential to 
good Gothic, but, with the ordinary observer, gaining instead of losing 
by the rich simplicity of its majesty. There can be no doubt that the 
composition of this truly splendid building was in ensfmhlc Barry's, but 
in detail largely Pugin's ; in fact, Pugin was still in charge privately of 
the task of " endowing the work with artistic merit " of that archaeological 
kind which Barry could not accomplish by his own so far untutored 
although ever-graceful hand. Pugin had assisted Barry with his Gothic 
knowledge as far back as the time of the Birmingham Grammar School 
in 1833, and doubtless on other occasions since then when required ; and 


nothing, perhaps, was more interesting in the career of that wayward 
enthnsiast than the loyal devotion to the canse of the Medieval Re^'ival 
with which he subordinated his own powerful personality to that of 
J3arry throughout so many years of patient labour in the development — 
imperfect as he must ha\'e thought it — of the masterpiece of the time. 
Xeither is it to he doubted that his influence was a most important 
factor in the conception of those schemes for a resuscitation of the 
sul)sidiary arts which were already acquiring substance and force in 
Barry's name, for the supplementary completion of the interior of the 
great edifice. 

In ecclesiastical work a few men like Pugin himself and Scott were 
getting into good practice to good purpose artistically ; whilst the 
ordinary majority of so-called Gothic architects throughout the country 
— almost all eclectic in the sense of being ready to design in any style 
whate^"er to order — were more or less occupied, in churches and schools, 
upon a very poor system of imitation, using " Norman, Early English, 
Decorated, and Perpendicular " quite at random, as the fancy struck 
them or their clients, and always satisfied if they could achie^-e the most 
superficial resemblances on paper, without, the slightest attempt to deal 
with those " true principles " of structural motive which were quite 
Ijeyond their sight and knowledge. Amongst the most commonly 
admired of the recently built churches was the one by Scott at 
Camberwell ; but Pugin's impracticability of personal tem^Derament 
and his demonstrative repudiation of the national form of religion 
necessarily prevented his material success, besides that his manner of 
design was always less graceful than authentic. Of work that was not 
Classic, but scarcely as yet Gothic, there Avas a good deal in hand in the 
way of what was very faii'ly called Elizabethan, in public institutions, 
country mansions, and miscellaneous provincial buildings ; whilst the 
" Secular Gothic " of later fame was just emerging from the 
" Carpenter's Gothic " of the previous age, and assuming something 
like a character of solidity, although scarcely of grace. 

Turning from this to Classic work, we find the following examples 
recent or current. The British Museum, not quite out of the hands of 
the Smirkes (Sydney being now in charge as the successor of his 
brother Sir Robert), was at least one of the most monumental designs in 
the world. The Xew Buckingham Palace, Blore's weak Italian frontage 
to Xash's much better Greek quadrangle, was not admired liy anybody. 
The Museum of Geology in Piccadilly and Jermyn Street, by Penne- 
thorne, was much liked- — a simple, massive, and graceful work of 
unaffected ability. The Treasury, by Barry, showed an exceedingly 
handsome fagade made out of Soane's old colonnade by the simple 
artifice of attacliing it bodily to a new-fashioned wall. The Club-houses 
by Barry, Burton, and Smirke in Pall Mall were regarded as models of 
Italian taste. The Army and Xavy Club-house was just finished, a very 


effective but strictly imitative reproduction of a well-known palazzo in 
Venice, and so acknowledged : the name of the architect, snccessfnl ia 
a pubhc competition, being professionally unrecognised. The Eoyal, 
Exchange, by Tite, displayed a fine academical Roman portico, masking] 
a substantial but commonplace Italian block of business establishments, 
with a good cortile within. (Donaldson had won the competition with 
a similar design of superior character, prepared for him in Paris, but] 
was ottsted by a flagrant City job ; and Cockerell also had been 
grievotisly disappointed.) The London and AYestminster Bank in the 
City was greatly admired as one of Cockerell's simplest but best works ; 
Tite being " associated " \\ith liim here after the commercial manner, 
but claiming no share in the artistic merit. Dorchester House in the 
Park was in hand, by YulUamy, and was deemed an elegant design ; 
and Bridgewater House, by Bany, dates from the same period as one 
of the great architect's best works. Victoria Street, Westminster, and 
Cannon Street in the City, were the new thoroughfares of the day, but 
neither of them acquired artistic importance. The facade of the new 
Station of the Great Northern Railway at King's Cross, designed, or 
rather non-designed, by the engineer, was regarded with shame as a demon- 
strative manifestation of the most absohite and abased Philistinism. 
St. George's Hall, Liverpool, on the contrary- — carried on by Cockerell 
since the death of Elmes — was accepted with the universal acclamation 
of all classes, as an artistic gem worthy of the commercial pride of old 
days, before the shabby doctrine, as fallacious as it is shabby, was ever 
thought of, that Art " does not pay." Speaking of Philistinism, it may 
be observed that in 1851 "the Decoration of St. Paul's" was imder 
serious pubhc discussion ; it is imder discussion still ; and nothing of 
any great moment has come out of the discussion all these years, except 
an absiu'dly transcendental scheme of iconography by Burges, now 
forgotten, various projects for polychromatic painting, every one 
abandoned, some mosaics of fragmentaiy effect, and a too-splendid 
altar-screen which passed straightway into the unsanctified hands of 
the lawyers. 

The Crystal Palace : Digby "VYyatt : Pugis^. — The Exhibition 
Building, although ostentatiously called " the Crystal Palace," made no 
pretensions to architectural merit. The ever-complaisant Cockerell — 
a man of princely mind, as of princely presence, whose failings always 
leaned to virtue's side — in his desire to speak well of it, could only 
suggest that it had merits of proportion due to its being planned on 
" the multiple priiiciple," which he was glad to thiiik had the authority 
of WilUam of '\Yykeham in its favour. Even the decorating artists, 
when matters came to a finish, were obliged to excuse themselves, 
although ah'eady somewhat in the ascendant, by advancing the argu- 
ment that it was impossible to decorate so strange a building. There 
were controversies of all kinds about the construction : but thev were 


of no moment. Paxton, a distinguislied horticnltmist, had sketched 
the idea on a sheet of hlotting-paper, after a great greenhouse of his 
own ; Barrj condescended to add the vaulted nave ; the contractors, 
Fox and Henderson, supplied for themselves the necessary engineering 
skill : Digby Wyatt, not long returned from a lengthened student career 
at Rome, was made superintendent of the works ; Cole Avas the inde- 
fatigable administrator, in the capacity of what Beresford Hope used 
to call the " showman ; " the Society of Arts, advancing every day in 
a jubilant if temporary popularity, which was of the gi'eatest service in 
the circumstances, expended its augmented resources in keeping u.p the 
pulilic interest to the necessary tension ; and Prince Albert's earnest 
goodwill, and his popular authority, constituted a never-failing reserve 
of potential influence which was the fly-wheel of the whole enterprise. 
A shelter of iron-work and glass became recognised as the proper thing 
for future Great Exhibitions ; but, whether we call it a Crystal Palace or 
a Greenhouse, nothing has come out of it to this day Avhich can be 
called an aesthetic architectural advance with new materials. 

However, if the Great Exhilntion in Hyde Park did no more for 
architecture, it did this :— it l)rought the " minor arts '' fully into 
public notice. Cole's ideal of art may almost be described as 
revolutionary in this res})ect. Xo artist himself, and a critic of only 
little more than hrk-a-hrac, a hard-headed plebeian to whom all 
academicalism was moonshine, and any feeling of delicacy or deference 
a delusion and a snare, he went as straight at his mark as a heavy 
dragoon, and his mark was industrial democracy. Professional artists 
of the great schools, as soon as he dared, he treated with undisguised 
disdain ; their traditions he put in the dustbin, their history was non- 
sensical, their glory a mistake, their pride a mockery ; indeed all was 
a mockery of true art. For true art, in his sight, was the masculine 
artizanship of the multitude, filling the home and the street, and not 
the temple and the palace only, with every kind of popular presentable- 
ness for the unaffected enjoyment of all. From the lips of a man like 
Eastlake or Cockerell, a doctrine of this sort, coming with all the force 
of eloquence, learning, and personal graciousness, would probably have 
entirely failed to obtain a public hearing ; but this unlearned and 
ungracious " showman," keeping his mouth shut when expedient, his 
brain busy, and his heavy hand unweariedly at work, was exactly the 
man for the hour ; and that he did his business well, no one, wince as 
he might at the mode, could for a moment deny. Of course he had 
good men under him ; and, amongst the rest, although the professional 
architect was one of his pet aversions, he had the good fortune and the 
good sense to secure the aid of Digby Wyatt. 

Fergusson used to say of Digby Wyatt that he had never seen his 
like in this very remarkable respect : — give him any conceivable subject 
of architectural work, and dictate to him any style you pleased, he could 



without a moment's hesitation sketch off a design in all its detail which 
would be perfectly correct and perfectly complete. In other words, his 
mind was a storehouse of all the knowledge that was to be obtained 
from travel and the books. This could be said of him, moreover, with 
reference not to academical architecture alone, but to Architectm-al Art 
in the widest sense, embracing all the supplementar}' and subsidiary arts 
that could lie named. Speaking more strictly, however, it was his 
knowledge of academical Renaissance Art in all its departments that 
was so intimate, and he only added to this for its own sake a similar 
but of course not ei|ually profound appreciation of the most a]ipro\'ed 
examples of other schools — a little Gothic included, but not too much. 
Academical he was to the core, but his academicalism was so broad that 
it was practically of the same revolutionary character as Cole's demo- 
cratic republicanism of artizanship. With all " the industrial arts " at 
his fingers' ends, despising none, almost preferring none, here was the 
very man whom Cole wanted, a loyal and tractable man also, and not a 
vain man like too many of such artists, glad of the opportunity to exert 
himself, and to earn honour more than money. Years afterwards, 
when he asked the Metropolitan Board of Works to give him a District 
Surveyorship for a living, his testimonials, it is said, made such a grand 
array as to frighten the members ; they would have nothing to do with 
so glorified a candidate, and he never applied again ; but he eventually 
obtained the better appointment of architect to the East India 
Company ; and if Sir William Tite, who took up the matter, had not, 
in his own rough way, done many another handsome thing, his action 
in this ought to be allowed to cover a multitude of sins of the more 
commercial order. 

But Pugin had his share also in the Great Exhibition. The 
"Medieval Court," as regards the interesting collection which it 
contained of industrial examples, albeit very ecclesiological and not 
unfrequently much too (piaint for the jwpular gravity, was understood 
to owe to Pugin chiefly its unquestionable importance in the pulilic eye 
and influence on the pubhc taste. Here was an excellent o])portunity 
for illustrating " the true principles of Gothic Architecture " in the 
broadest sense of the terra ; and architects and all other ornamentalists 
gave heed to what was thus taught, and discerned all the more clearly 
the existence of a soul in Medieval work of which their " Xorman, 
Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular" were but the outer 

It is perhaps to be wondered at, and perhaps not, that Ruskin in 
those early days was in violent opposition to the whole scheme of the 
Exhibition. His teaching, however, was contributing not a little, in 
spite of himself, to the revolution that had begun. If his dreams were 
dreams, and he had no idea that he was dreaming — " we are near 
waking when we dream that we dream " — they were at least pleasant 


dreams that set many dreamy people dreaming like liimself, leaving not 
at all an unprofitable impression on their waking senses. " Go to 
Xatiire " can never be an idle cry for art, even when it is not under- 
stood by the artist. Perhaps it never can be thoroughly understood, 
even by the declaimer ; and certainly it caiuiot in architecture, and 
when the declaimer is but an amateur. 

The Effect upon Architecture. — Within a very short time the 
effect of the new movement upon architectural practice began to be 
seen, in the persistent decadence of the old-fashioned Classical designer 
by the book. When Cole ac(|uired at last that firm seat upon the public 
shoulders where he rode so long and so roughly, his contempt for this 
somewhat pretentious and pedantic personage was audaciously ex- 
pressed ; and it was understood, rightly or wrongly, that he had 
succeeded in imbuing the Prince Consort with the same feeling. But, 
quite independently of anything of that sort, it was plain that the 
instinct of the public was changing with reference to the whole question 
of art in relation to building. One of the first manifestations was the 
demand for a pubhc museum of Mediaeval Architecture, in which Scott 
took a lead, with the expressed hope of training architects a little and 
artizans a great deal. Gothic carvers, decorators, glass-painters, metal- 
workers, and the rest, could not, it was said, be procured, and must be 
created. They could not be procured even abroad, and must be created 
at home ; and so it was not long before they were creating themselves. 
At the same time archaeological societies, devoting their chief attention 
to the ecclesiastical architectural arts, were attaining increasing popu- 
larity in all parts of the country, and producing and publishing random 
papers of considerable learning both historical and ecclesiological. 
Local architectural societies, too, were increasing in number, and their 
discussions frequently turned upon the eager inquiry, what could be 
done to advance the practice of artistic work, to promote a spirit of 
truth in design, to discountenance more effectually the prevailing sin of 
counterfeit, to discover elements of natural criticism, to abolish copyism, 
and to substitute for the dogmatic authority of precedent a more 
hitelligent rule. It was then that "■ the Battle of the Styles " raged 
in earnest. As one of those straws which show how the wind is 
blowing, the choice of a single phrase on an unimportant occasion 
to express a passing impression may sometimes be quoted. Professor 
Donaldson, in drawing up a casual index to a lecture or something of the 
sort, after tabulating, as was the habit of the eclectic school, century by 
century, the progress of architecture style by style, came at last to his 
own generation. He marked it with the one word " Chaos " — nothing 
more ! It was in the contemplation of this chaos, therefore, and in the 
almost forlorn hope of initiating a new cosmos of whatever sort, that the 
Gothic enthusiasts made a. rush to the front. Their programme was 
drastic : — Pack up the whole bundle of this exotic, effete, chaotic 

K 2 


classicism and eclecticism, from all the editions of Vitruvius to all the 
lectures of Cockerell ; put it promptly in the fire ; and see what the 
genuine national Gothic can do in its stead ! For a time nothing came 
of it but strife and greater chaos. 

But, at any rate, the year 1851 had not closed before Digby Wyatt's 
*' Industrial Arts of the Nineteenth Centnry " had been brought well 
before the. pubHc. Whatever might be said of Architecture, there was 
Art still to the fore, in considerable quantity and to considerable 
purpose, if people would but open their eyes. In the same direction, 
immediately upon the discovery that the profits of the Great Exhibition 
constituted an available fund, the demand arose that a pennanent 
museum of these Industrial Arts should be one of the public institutions 
of the country. In a word, " Architecture," the technology of Archi- 
tectus " the chief of the workmen," was being promptly converted into 
"the Industrial Arts," the technology of the workmen themselves. 
Indeed, it was not very long before the doctrine was openly advocated, 
with various degrees of emphasis, that the spirit of building-art was 
properly the spirit of the artizans alone, with a definite, not to say rude, 
repudiation of this academical architect us and all his ways. 

Draughtsmanship. — The circumstance must not be overlooked 
that draughtsmanship was destined to play an important part presently 
in the changed architectural world. The two great reforming agencies 
working in alliance — the Gothic Revival and the Industrial-art move- 
ment — were obviously both of such a nature as to encourage any style of 
brusque masterly sketching to take the place of the perhaps refined but 
feeble and emasculated mannerism of the previous mode. By degrees 
there came into vogue, accordingly, amongst the Gothic men — who now 
boldly claimed to be the only proper leaders — a system of piquant and 
powerful drawing, with " sharp perspective " and expressive touch, which 
not only covered slovenly detail, if such there were, but conferred upon 
the whole work the curiosa felicitas of the much-desired mediae val 
" character." Once fairly started by such masterly sketchers as Petit, 
this stimulating practice soon made its way into forms of increasing 
skill and earnestness, until Street and Norman Shaw at last were 
acknowledged to be perhaps beyond all ri\'alry. But as this fascinating 
architectural sketching was thus advancing so buoyantly, let it not be 
forgotten that a style, of sketchy architecture would arise as a natural 
consequence. And so it has certainly done, and in a way that has 
exercised an influence by no means always salutary upon our national 
design : producing, alike in buildings, in furniture, and in ornament, 
a clever slapdash manner of treatment which cannot be relied upon. 
Pugin was a draughtsman of the masterly order, and would achieve 
his object with much recklessness of pencil ; but it was reserved for 
Burges in 1858 to bring matters to a climax by a characteristically 
pedantic affectation of delight in a book of drawings of the thirteenth 


cent HIT 1)Y one Wilars de Honeconrt, which VioUet-le-Duc had un- 
earthed. A more unprofitable style of delineation to imitate for modern 
purposes it would be impossible to discover, but it was genuine Gothic 
handiwork, and that was enough, Burges's eyesight was unfortunately 
very dim — a circumstance that ought never to be overlooked by the 
critic of his work, and especially of his colour — and perhaps his devotion 
to the spirit of Media3val Art was here supplemented by a question of 
\ision : but at any rate he seized upon this Wilars us a perfect godsend, 
and adopted and actually used his absurd mode as far as he dared. 
Others in recent years have far outdone Burges in this affectation of 
coarse and clumsy drawing ; but the generality of Gotliic draughtsmen 
have always adopted a much less pronounced manner, and certainly the 
artistic merit of their drawings and sketches is astonishing to their 
seniors. What, however, is to be the end of it in the way of personal 
profit to themselves, becomes an anxious question. Perhaps the out- 
come may be at least thus far beneficial, that the amjDlification of the 
minor arts may find an important aid in the forced transfer of many of 
these highly accomplished experts from the service of building to that 
of its less imposing but more popular supplementaries ; and if this 
should be so it will be greatly to the advantage of Art at large. Indeed, 
there is something in the practical training of an English architect's 
office which seems to be peculiarly fa^'ourable to the attainment of that 
particular power of design which, in whatever branch of art, may turn 
upon the structural anatomy of the subject ; and therefore it is not at 
all improbable that the architect's office may turn out to be the fittest of 
all schools for ornamental artists of whatever class. It is worthy of 
remark that the robust draughtsmanship of Street (done in writing-ink) 
was perhaps his strongest point ; and his rapid sketching was always a 
marvel to those who had an opportunity of witnessing its performance. 
Architects ought to bear in mind, however, that the mere sketching of 
the most accomplished master, however masterly, has little real value 
for their proper purpose. Perhaps the " Queen Anne " designing of 
to-day owes a great deal of its feebleness in execution to tliis style of 
" effective " sketch-making l)eing so much relied upon, in forgetfulness 
of the circumstance that it is the effect of the building, and not of the 
drawing, that has to be considered. 

Progress from 1851 to the Death of the Prince Consort. — 
Gothic work soon began now to take the lead. Leaving out of account 
such a design as Pennethorne's Record Office in Fetter Lane — a very 
creditable composition of its kind — it was not long before Scott's 
domestic buildings in Broad Sanctuary, Westminster, led the way to 
the undisguised assertion of a right to build a London street fa9ade in 
the style of a monastic retreat five hundred years old ; and so rapidly 
did the movement grow, that in 1857 the great public comjDetition for 
the Government Offices in Whitehall actually produced so many uncom- 


promising Medifevalist plans that tlie adjudicators could do no better 
tlian divide something like twenty premiums equally and alternately 
between Classic and Gothic, a feeble artifice but a thoroughly English 
compromise. Then, to the great triumph of the reformers, when the 
authors of the first-placed designs were (as usual) set aside, who should 
come in the ^^'inner but Scott ? That there was a little legerdemain 
about it need not surprise the reader ; but the signiiicancy of the 
incident was only all the greater. Scott, however, did not build in 
Gothic after all ; for Lord Pahnerston came into power and bluntly 
told him he must convert his design into Classic ; and he did so, rather 
than resign the commission. In the meantime Westminster Bridge had 
been built in Gothic^a cast-iron girder-bridge in the likeness of 
Tudor arches — and highly approved, as w^ould scarcely be the case now. 
At Paddington Railway Station, however, about the same time Brunei 
the engineer allowed Digby Wyatt to design some well-meant and 
graceful ironwork. In St. James's Hall Owen Jones made use of his 
own Moresco manner with sufficient success, but not within the rules of 
the day, being of neither the one " style " nor the other. Then the 
moinnnental column at Westminster attracted considerable attention ; 
so did the Wallace Monument at Stirling ; and a good many Gothic 
buildings of very " picturesque " character (on paper) began to appear 
throughout the country, as if to show what a discrepancy there might 
be sometimes between the politic drawing of the architect and the 
prosaic brick-and-mortar of the builder. The Oxford Museum, by 
Deane or Woodward (Plate 219), now attracted a great deal of notice. 
The Temple Library was an exceptionally good quasi-ecclesiastical 
example of a different order. Small monumental works, such as memo- 
rials and drinking fountains, screens, reredoses, and tombs, were also 
produced in good or bad Gothic, and much admired ; Gothic ornament 
was intimately studied and illustrated ; and Gothic furniture of 
considerable characteristic merit, both ecclesiastical and domestic, was 
being frequently designed, if not always executed. The Houses of 
Parliament were steadily but slowly progressing all this time ; and at 
length, in 1<SG0, just as the Victoria Tower was near completion, the 
accomplished architect — or clever rather than accomplished — died at 
the height of his well-earned fame. 

In church-design during this period notable progress was being 
made e\'erywhere. Scott was very busy in his soft graceful style all 
over the country. Pugin built, as a challenge, his o\n\ St. Augustine's 
at Ramsgate. All Saints', Margaret Street, by Butterfield, was perhaps 
the most demonstrative of all examjiles ; " a costly folly," Tite said 
officially at the Institute, for which Beresford Hope was held respon- 
sible — both in person and in pocket — but one that took the fancy of 
the MediEe\'alist world hugely. Raphael Brandon's Catholic and 
Apostolic chm'ch in Bloomsbury, dating from 1859, was a notably 






All Saints' Church, London. 


meritorious design ; and in 18G1 Street came to the front with his St. 
James the Less in "Westminster, a work of sturdy merit in brick. New 
parish churches in various individual phases of the popular manner, 
were generally of an unassuming fourteenth-century motive, with elegance 
of proportion kept generally in view. Old churches were being restored 
everywhere ; and frequently, as is now thought, too freely altered and 
amended. The cathedrals were also being placed in the most expert 
hands, Scott taking the lion's share. 

In Classic design there Avere, besides the great works mentioned a 
few pages back, the Junior United Service Club in Eegent Street, by 
Nelson, Covent Garden Theatre by Edward Barry, the Grosvenor Hotel 
by Knowles, the Leeds Town Hall by Brodrick, the National Gallery at 
Edinburgh by Playfair, the Halifax Town Hall by Barry, and many 
other sufficiently estimable efforts in various forms of ordinary and 
sometimes extraordinary Italian. 

In the Exhibition of 1851 the " Architectural Courts," coupled with 
the multifarious display of specimens of ornamental art-work in other 
departments, had undoubtedly produced a feeling of unexpected pleasure 
in the public mind ; and the penny-wise-pound-foolish complacency of 
the well-to-do British Philistine had received a considerable shock. It 
is not clear that the Prince Consort did much personally, but he allowed 
Cole in his name to strike the iron while it was hot during the next ten 
years with a persistency that never flagged. Amongst other things^ 
there was the encouragement of certain special manufactures which 
particularly affected architectural design. Terra-cotta and other clay- 
ware may be assigned the chief place. Brickwork in excelsis promptly 
followed. It will be seen at a glance that a movement of this kind 
would be a very natural result of the Exhibition policy. Picturesque- 
ness of treatment would also become more pojjular, even if the revival of 
the Gothic Arts had not so thoroughly prepared the way. Norman 
Shaw's sketches of picturesque Teutonic work of the old school were 
published, and made an impression ; and other artists of similar tastCii 
imitated and emulated him. The study of antique furniture and 
ornaments also directed especial attention to the Rococo of the north- 
western quarters of the Continent ; and, in a word, the identification of 
Old Dutch, high and low, with Old English through this channel was 
progressing rapidly. Japanese ornament, too, had taken the fancy of 
the Parisians, and the fashion was beginning to spread to London. On 
the whole, the bric-a-brac of South Kensington Museum — no longer that 
of Wardour Street — was steadily gaining ground every day as a matter 
of intelligent study for the public at large. 

Cardinal Wiseman, who had some good amateurish ideas about 
architecture, well says in one of his lectures, " It must never be forgotten 
that brick is the lowest of all materials." Terra-cotta cannot be put 
quite on this del)ased level ; but the use of terra-cotta and brick in i 


com1)in;ttion enables an architect certainly to be ambitious — or at least 
showy — and cheap, and the risk of lapsing into vulgarity is consequently 
all the greater. Bric-a-brac design, or inferior Rococo, in brick and 
terra-eotta, would be very likely, therefore, to become superficial, 
meretricious, and shallow ; and it is not too much to say that this is 
the character which must be assigned to a great deal of the work which 
has been the result of the South Kensington movement, under the name 
(for the present) of the Queen Anne style. It would take some time, 
however, for this result to become sufficiently patent ; and meanwhile 
the Secular Gothic, equally objectionable in some respects, if not so 
much so in others, held its ground. 

In December 1861 the excellent Prince Consort unexpectedly died. 
His decease had no effect upon architectural progress, for his mind had 
not been in any special way of an architectural turn. It may be also 
said that the South Kensington administration under Cole, in the 
interest of the Industrial Arts at large, had become so firmly established 
through the influence of the Prince that his loss even in this respect was 
scarcely felt ; the good he had done lived after him. 

Progress, 18G0 to 1870. — During this period the course of 
English architecture was very much in the same direction that has just 
been described. Classic or Italian design, imjiroving in character 
through the rivalry of the Gothic, still pursued its way in municipal 
buildings of the better class ; and the City of London in particular 
l:)egan to be greatly embellished under this general rule. Ecclesiastical 
Gothic flourished abundantly, and in perhaps a majority of cases to the 
very great credit of English skill. Secular Gothic came more and more 
into competition with municipal Italian. Brick and terra-cotta work 
was slowly advancing. Timber work began to assert itself here and 
there in the country, as a still cheaper mode of culti^•ating the pic- 
turesque ; and " Sgraffito " — scratched ornament on plaster — followed, 
in the same spirit, although not with much acceptance. The subsidiary 
arts were growing in importance every day as the proper work of 
architecture, and studies and clever designs for small decorative subjects 
and interiors were especially attracting attention to certain architects 
as their authors. Art and science schools were prospering all over the 
land, and the grumblers against native taste were beginning to be 
challenged to the proof. 

Amongst the multitude of churches there were St. Alban's, Holborn, 
by Butterfield ; St. Peter's at Vauxhall, by Pearson ; St. Finn Barr at 
Cork, by Burges ; St. Yincent's at Cork, by Goldie ; St. Stephen's at 
Kensington, by Peacock ; Monaghan Cathedral by McCarthy ; St. 
Mary Abbott, Kensington, by Scott ; Tuam Cathedral, by Deane ; a 
church in Edinburgh, by Rochead (good Gothic spreading to Scot- 
land) ; and others by Ferrey, Street, Teulon, Brooks, Bodley, Seddon, 
Slater, and younger men, all equally worthy of the art. Besides there 


Book iv. mvi> 


St. Vincent's, Cork. 


were cathedral restorations and the rehabilitation of old churches every- 
where ; indeed, it seemed as if English genius had found its forte 
in this the most legitimate and by far the most interesting field of 
revived Medievalism. In other departments the competition for the 
Albert Memorial produced the resplendent design of Scott ; the colleges 
of Oxford and Cambridge engaged largely in building ; Scott designed 
the Glasgow University ; and Fettes College in Edinburgh, by Bryce, 
and the Aberdeen City Hall, by Peddie and Kinnear, were both ad- 
mirable. Memorial crosses, reredoses, and timber roofs, were treated 
with great care and skill ; Burges designed a Gothic warehouse, which 
however, came to nothing ; and country mansions and provincial town 
buildings, schools and asylums, in secular Gothic, were advancing in 
numl:)er, and also in merit, such as it was ; while the Manchester Assize 
Courts brought out Waterhouse, to follow soon with the more famous 
Town Hall of the same city. 

Of the Classic examples there may be mentioned the Freemasons' 
Tavern, by Frederick Cockerell, an excellent work where one would not 
expect it ; the Smithfield Markets by Horace Jones, commonplace and 
coarse ; the well-known Treasury, by Scott (not only Classic against his 
will, but mutilated), with the India Office behind it by Digby Wyatt in 
co-operation with him — Wyatt having the credit of the cortile and the 
grouping towards the Park ; the Junior Carlton Club-house, by David 
Brandon, an unaffected stately palazzo ; the London University, by 
Pennethorne (Plate 206), a design with many good jjoints (it Avas said 
the architect had first designed it in Gothic — eclectic Gothic of course— 
and was disappointed when required to change the style) ; the Albert 
Hall, by Captain Fowke (and his staff), a remarkably imposing design 
not without great merit, carried out under General Scott his successor ; 
and a miscellaneous multitude of Town-halls, Banks, Insurance Offices, 
Hotels, and the like, of which it is impossible to say more than that 
they were of the usual type, sometimes good and often not. Facing 
Barry's sjilendid Palace of \Yestminster, there was built the expensive 
but artistically futile St. Thomas's Hospital ; an all-too-prominent 
illustration of normal English taste, whose simplicity enjoys the honour, 
it is said, of being preferred by many to all the splendour opposite. 

Some remarkable competition contests took place within this decade. 
Fu'st may be mentioned the extraordinary pair, or brace of select 
competitions for the National Gallery and the Law Courts respectively. 
They were instituted simultaneously — the last official recognition of the 
Battle of the Styles. For the National Gallery a number of architects 
of repute on the Classic side of the profession were selected, with two or 
three Gothic ; for the Law Courts, on the other hand, the competitors 
were Gothic men, with two or three eclectics ; a small number being 
thus on both lists. Large fees were allowed to all equally. The designs 
were publicly exhibited before adjudication. The result was, as usual, 



a fiasco, or rather two. Edward Ran-r ,.-,. fi 

Gallery, and „„ ,„„,, ,,,, .J^'^.f^f ^^ »;"■- for M-.e National 

-n on pap... eon,pa., .., ti:Xro-\SL-t:l:^^ 

Chap. VI. 



by the profession of architects, to possess an immensity of recondite 
merit of the Mnscnlar Christian order when adventitious success caused 
it to be attentively looked at. Another competition of note was for 
the Natural History Museum at South Kensington. It was an open 
contest ; a remarkably fine Italian design by Fowke (and his staff) was 
the winner, but it was never carried out. 

Interior work of artistic minor architecture, i^ermitted to be designed 

Jlanchesier Town Hull. 

by architects, instead of being chosen from the pattern-books of 
fashionable furniture-dealers, was all this time advancing slowly but 
sm-ely ; the best productions of " art manufacturers " were also being 
designed by architects ; domestic furniture was becoming a speciality 
attached to such names as Xorman Shaw and Eastlake ; and modelling, 
carving, mural painting, and the design of glass painting, were ac- 
quiring increasing architectural vigour. In many other forms none 


the less, the movement of 1851, sustained in one Industrial Exliibition 
after another all over the world, was steadily doing its beneficent work. 

An interesting critical artistic question came up at this time with 
reference to the treatment of terra-cotta. At South Kensington, this 
characteristically revived material was a good deal used, and most pro- 
minently in the Albert Hall. At Dulwich College, an inferior Iniilding 
by Banks and Barry, it was also largely employed. At Kensington the 
antique Italian method of treating the material was adopted ; at 
Dulwich it was dealt with in what was meant to be an improved way. 
It is well-known that the shrinkage of terra-cotta during baking is so 
great, that the blocks come from the oven somewhat irregular in line 
and size. At South Kensington the irregularity is accepted and brought 
into alignment as best may be by selection ; at Dulwich the blocks are 
trimmed and surfaced. Which is the proper artistic system ? Most 
critics will emphatically say the South Kensington. To dress up such a 
material when being fixed makes it, of course, as true as masonry ; but it 
converts it in a manner into sham masonry, and its preparatory stage 
may be almost as carelessly managed as you please ; to accept it as it 
comes from the kiln, and use it accordingly, makes it true terra-cotta., 
and so far true art — true industrial art, we may say, instead of counter- 
feit academical architecture ; and the honest recognition of its native 
defects only confers upon it a new charm, and gives to the architect 
and to the critic a new delight. 

It may be added here that the ingenious in^'ention of Ransome's 
artificial stone, brought into pul)lic notice at this time, seems to have 
deserved greater success in architecture than it has achieved. Its use 
in such a building as St. Thomas's Hospital, for Corinthian capitals and 
pedestal vases at so much by the dozen, did it no good : artist-architects 
at that time would only discard it for that very reason peremptorily. 
But why so perfect an equivalent for natural sandstone cannot be 
developed for running ornament with artistic discretion — instead of 
moulded brick, for instance — at any rate in slightly ambitious designs of 
the inexpensive class, is a question that may fairly be suggested to the 

Peogeess, 1870 TO 1880. — The leading architect now was Scott, 
and the dominant architectural work undoubtedly Gothic. In all the 
cathedrals the task of restoration was being steadily pm'sued ; and the 
rehabilitation of the old parish churches, which constitute one of the 
most especial charms of England, was undertaken with enthusiastic 
delight in every quarter of the land. A remarkable competition for the 
new Episcopalian Cluirch or Cathedral of St. Mary in Edinburgh brought 
the powers and peculiarities of Scott, Street, and Bm-ges, into most 
interesting comparison ; and it was manifest how Scott's success in this 
instance was due, as was his popularity everywhere, not to such archaic 
enthusiasm as Street's, or such ambitious and eccentric vigour as Burges's, 

Chap. VI. 



but rather to an almost feminine elegance, modesty, and repose, which 
always appealed successfully to the more Protestant sympathies of the 
great majority of the people. That such a style should eventually be 
called weak w\as inevitable, but it never failed to be pleasing. 

St. Mary's, Kdinburgh. 

New churches large and small, stately and simple, ornate and archaic, 
were still being built everywhere by public subscription and private bene- 
faction. The cultivation of all the ecclesiastical " minor arts " was 


diligently pursued, under the charge of zealous amateurs and equally 
zealous architects and manufacturers. Extreme ecclesiological doctrines 
were propounded by High Chm'ch architects with such absurd fervour 
that Roman Catholics wondered at the incomprehensible superstition of 
Protestants ; the idle mysteries of symbolism, the emblematic devices of 
cluirch ornament, and the legends of the saints ! being studied much more 
than even the remains of Medieval building. But the reason for all this 
lay below the surface. Artistic religion had become the fashion of the time ; 
and everything, therefore, that could add to the pleasm'es of the imagina- 
tion in public worship was eagerly sought out in ancient records, and 
devoutly accepted in daily practice. Church Arcliitecture in particular 
came to be regarded with veneration by thousands upon thousands of 
cultured and even scarcely cultured persons of both sexes ; and, in a 
word, one of the most delightful of all sentimental recreations came to 
be developed to the utmost in the form of ceremonial devotion. New 
names were constantly arising in the list of well-known architects ; and it is 
to be observed that Englishmen were even employed to design churches in 
their own fashion in continental countries. Schools, it need not be said, 
parsonages, colleges, and various other such buildings were of course to 
be classed as ecclesiastical work ; but it was not long before Noncon- 
formist chapels followed suit as far as they dared, and even Presbyterian 
kirks on the very soil of Scotland ; thas proving again that the develop- 
ment of Mediseval Art was becoming very much of a universal national 
sentiment, that is to say, that the appreciation of artistic public worship 
was now spreading through the whole community, apart altogether from 
that particular movement in the National Church of England in which it 
had originated. 

The history of this period would scarcely be complete without some 
special reference being made to the peculiar rivalry of those very 
remarkable enthusiasts, Bm'ges and Street. Both were men of a highly 
artistic temperament, but they were as unlike each other in every way 
as any two such men could well be. Burges was personally very much 
of a Bohemian, whimsical to absm'dity, paradoxical, pedantic, and 
perverse ; but possessing singularly refined powers of elegant, contem- 
plative, and what is called 23oetic design, with a leaning towards nick- 
nackery. Street, on the contrary, was robust, bigoted, and domineering ; 
a solemn fighter, armed cap-a-pied, and with no weakness at all — except 
excess of strength be weakness — ha\'ing a positive disgust for the elegancies 
and graces, and a sort of delight in architectural unconifortableness 
which it was impossible not to admire because of the vehemence of it 
as an act of sacrifice. Both had a radical and contemptuous distrust 
of the nineteenth century in respect of all its ways and works ; but their 
conceptions of the thirteenth or fourteenth were essentially different. 
Street might have been a building abbot, ruling with a rod of iron, if 
ruling well : or a building baron, sealing his delineations with the hilt 


of his sword ; while Biu'ges would have been neither priest nor warrior, 
but some eccentric wandering star of infinite jest and humour. That 
Burges was the more refined artist the majority of pleasant people will 
probably maintain ; but that Street was more grand there will still be some 
hard-mouthed admirers of the severities of art with equal emphasis, or 
even more, to affirm. At any rate, Burges loved the amenities and 
sunshine of Medieval Art, Street its austerities and clouds. That they 
had a pretty coiTect appreciation of each other's shortcomings need 
scarcely be said ; they were always competitors, never comrades, l)oth 
great architects. 

Secular Gothic was now more and more encouraged. Perhaps the 
majority of the municipal edifices in provincial towns, and even the 
business houses of London streets, were thought to be at their liest 
when endowed with awkwardly pointed windows and doors, and em- 
bellished with vulgar grotesques. The whole enterprise culminated in 
the London Law Courts, when Street had got that extraordinary work 
faii'ly under weigh. No other architect living could have had the com'age 
to do all that he did to push anomaly and anachronism to extremity. 
Without a word of exaggeration he may be said to have revelled in the 
fierce delight of the battle he was fighting against the habits and 
customs of the day. The lawyers had persuaded themselves to be 
charmed with his drawings ; perhaps the artificial intelligence which 
they cultivate took kindly to the repudiation of common sense which 
spoke from every line. But when they came to occupy their dismal 
abode, their admiration was changed to despair. The sweet austerities 
of jmper Gothic did not delight them in stone. They discovered that 
even the processes of the law could not be conveniently pursued with light 
and cheerfulness so demonstratively absent ; the genius of architecture 
had avenged herself for the endurance of many contumelies by adding a 
new horror to litigation. The artist died in the arms of victory ; and 
ever since that day the possessors of this clief-iV cnivre. of Secular Gothic 
have been querulously complaining, with not a soul to pity them or to 
offer a hope of relief. 

. One of the most prominent public buildings of the Secular Gothic 
order was the Natural History Museum at South Kensington, ])y 
"Waterhouse, a large edifice in terra-cotta both outside and in, dangerously 
ambitious and original, but not without many evidences of anxious and 
skilful pains. Sion College, on the Thames Embankment, by Blomfield, 
was a congenial subject, treated with success. The Prudential Assurance 
Office in Holborn, by Waterhouse, was another experiment in terra-cotta, 
considered to be sufficiently successful ; although whether a building all 
in dark red can be permanently admired for stateliness is doubtful. 
Doulton's Ten-a-cotta Factory, built on the Lambeth bank of the 
Thames, as an advertisement of the material, was more ostentatious than 




EooK IV 

In the jiroviuces many meritorious examples more or less Gotliic in 
character were making then- appearance ; in fact, by this time the 
" country arcliitects " of England may be said to have hi many Distances 
risen quite to the highest metropolitan level in artistic excellence ; 
thanks, perhaps, to the very remarkable exertions of the professional 
journals in the weekly production of lithographic illustrations. The 


Town Hall, Conglcton. 

Plymouth Guildhall, hx Hine : Collegiate buildings at Oxford and 
Cambridge, chiefly by the leading ecclesiastical men ; the Bradford Town I 
Hall, by Lockwood and Mawson ; the Clarke Hall at Paisley, by Lynn : 
the Barrow Town Hall, by the same architect ; Mason's College, 
Binningham, by Cossiiis : with the celebrated Manchester Town Hall, by 
Waterhouse : these may be quoted as among the most admh-ed works, 
besides numerous hotels and business houses in the chief towns. The great 




Bank, Birkenhead. 

country-seat, Eaton Hall, must also be mentioned as one of the chief 
efforts' of Waterhouse. It may as well be said plainly, however, that, 
judg-ed by the best medieval standards, there was one prevailing fault in 
most of "these Secular Gothic designs, namely, an aspu-uig tliinness, a 
want of broad repose, a sort of standing on tiptoe, always destructive of 
majestic effect, and particularly exemplified in modern Gothic work on 
the continent. 

\lthough the Roman Catliolic ecclesiastics in high places were 

L 2 



The Law Courts, London. North Entrance. 

Chap. A'I. 



midei'stood to be scarcely favourable to the revival of Medieval Archi- 
tecture auy where, many of the new churches of that faith in England 
now exhibited Gothic magnificence of detail with great success ; but 
they almost invariably combined with it a studied elegance which was 
too often, repudiated by the Protestant architects. Perhaps the difference 

Bristol Cathedral Porch. 

I was only that which is always unavoidable between uneasy affectation 
and calm sincerity. 

Meanwhile it was eminently characteristic of the particular line of 
progi-ess which Architectm-al Art was pursuing that the design of 
separable ornamental subjects, such as reredoses, fonts, pulpits, thrones, 
chancel-screens and rails, and ecclesiastical furniture generally, even in 



Book IV 

small country churches, together u'ith the corresponding productions in 
stained glass, pavements, paintings, metal-work, and all else in the way 
of detail, gradually advanced to a degi'ee of elahoration which must have 
satisfied the most exiffeut adversaries of Philistinism. 


Chimney-piece in Burges's House, Kensington. 

On the other hand, in spite of the violent assaults which Secular 
Gothicisra continually maintained against all that was Classic in theory, 
the standard style of Modern Europe fully sustained its title to reign in 
English practice. In London such works were achieved as the admirable 
addition to Somerset House by Pennethorne. Burlington House by Banks 


and Barry, and the addition to the Royal Academy facade by Smirke ; 
the City of London School, a showy bnt meritorious competition design 
by Davis and Emanuel, and the Temple Gardens Chambers, a still more 
showy chateau by E. Barry ; the Criterion Restaurant by Verity (one of 
the actual designers of " South Kensington "), showy again but well 
modelled in French taste ; and the new Post Office at St. Martin's-le- 
Grand, a somewhat too unaffected but very business-like structure, by 
the officials of Public "Works ; while in " the City " the denizens of the 
streets and alleys were every year more and more astonished to see the 
bright and imposi?ig edifices which were bringing a glow of youthfulness 
into the old and dingy thoroughfares of trade. 

It was in the very heart of the City, and at this time, that Norman 
Shaw's peculiar style of design first attracted serious attention, by means 
of a building in Leadenhall Street called " New Zealand Chambers," 
certainly a most courageous innovation. It seemed to be, in a word, a 
" Queen Anne " experiment of the most inappropriate kind in the most 
inappropriate place possible, rejecting i/i liinhie the rule of proceeding 
by degrees, and leaping at one bound to the uttermost limit of probable 
endurance, planting defiantly in one of the most sordidly bustling 
streets of the town, full of 2)late-glass shop-windows, and redolent of 
nothing in the world but the keenest economics, positively an old- 
fashioned Dutchman's warehouse, a sort of Rip Van Winkle of mer- 
cantile establishments, in which no one would expect from the look of it 
that the simplest transaction of the counting-house could be accom- 
plished in less than a week. That it took the fancy of not a few, 
however, was certain ; indicating, as we can now see, that the advent 
of bric-a-brac as a positive moti^'e power in the more ambitious endea- 
vours of architecture was imminent. The idea that the so-called Queen 
Anne style was suddenly introduced to the architectural world in this 
example — following a few others of the domestic class in the outskirts of 
the town and in the country— is a mistake ; for R;)coco Renaissance 
had been slowly making its way for fifteen or twenty years in the 
privacy of artistic or aesthetic society ; but the discovery by the public 
at large of how far it had made its way was no doubt a surprise, and 
certainly it may be admitted that professional architects presently dis- 
covered that the new mode was calculated to meet a definite demand. 
This demand was in fact being created l>y the obvious failure of the 
Secular Gothic to meet the practical requii'ements of the community. 
The principle to which it had been appealing for so many weary years 
was the charm of the picturesque, as a reaction from the insipidity 
of commonplace classicism. This principle, it was now considered 
apparent, could be much better satisfied, and much more conveniently 
and appropriately, by adopting — it was as yet for the smoky streets of 
London only — honest brick instead of sham stone, and the " quaintness " 
of some sort of genteel comedy of building instead of the grim se\'erity of 



Book IV. 

monastic archaicdsm. But why our own indigenous Elizabethan manner 
did not come to tlie front is an interesting point for speculative criticism. 
Perhaps the answer is threefold. First, Elizal)ethan had heen tried in 
certain forms for a long time, and without sufficient success. Secondly, 
it was in principle already a latent element in the evolution of the new 
mode. Thirdly, as it was professed by the reformers — who were exclu- 
sively Gothicists and sketchers of the picturesque — that their mode was 
to be genuine native English, this would necessarily satisfy the Eliza- 
bethan claims, as suggesting native Eenaissance of an early date ; and 
so the public mind was prepared to give it a fair trial. In fact, looking 
back, as we can now do, upon the career of the Queen Anne movement, 


Lowther Lodge, Kensington. 

as a fashion that has by this time probal)ly reached its highest level, and 
reflecting more particularly upon its interior elaboration with the aid of 
furniture and ornaments (exterior design being in a manner only the 
inside turned out), this idea seems worth suggesting : — that the popular 
acceptance of it lies in an approval of the unassuming nati^-e domesticity 
of a home in the country, in place of the pretentious and vapid stateli- 
iiess of a mansion in the town, because of its being more accommodating" 
to modest English requirements, and more satisfying to modest English 
tastes. The particularly free and easy treatment of most examples 
would of course confirm this theory. A travelling American is said to 
have formulated his opinion of the new architecture in the remark that 
it seemed to be " Queen Anne in front and Mary- Anne at the back " — 
a jest which may at any rate ser\'e to accentuate the argument that the 

t IIAP. YI. 



mode is unconsciously regarded as one wliose iiomely merit is that it is 
not worth while either to counterfeit appearances or to conceal them. 

Another illustration of the somewhat whimsical and at the same time 
not unsound instinct which at this period possessed the English mind 
was seen in the strong growth of the Japanese mania. The Parisians 
had led the way in this movement as a somewhat frivolous change of 
fashion ; but when it reached London it became a serious matter of 
study. The purpose it served practically was to assist and support the 
minor-art party in society, by bringing forward piquancy of colour to 
assist piquancy of form. It can scarcely be doubted that it accomplished 
this end successfully. The old-fashioned chromatic harmonies were 

House at Harrington Gardens, Kensington. 

voted tame and effeminate. The Gothic discords had been tried as a 
reaction, and by all, except the most extreme enthusiasts, were pro- 
nounced to be only crude and coarse. But the Japanese comliinations, 
including their occasional discords for relief, delighted every eye that accessil)le to the influences of genuine and simple sincerity on the 
palette. There was an umnistakable vigour in the whole scheme, an 
absence of timidity, a simple muscularity of the rough-and-ready sort, 
which was exactly what the public intelligence wanted to supplement 
the rough-and-ready masculinity of the " Queen Anne " both in hric-a- 
hrac furnishing and in Irk-a-brac architecture. The reign of Japanese 
colouring in English art still continues, even where the beneficial 
influence takes other names. That our recognition of the artistic 


merits of Japan did not stop short at colour was matter of com-se ; but 
some of our cynical Goths may perhaps have wondered sometimes why 
we did not proceed to imitate paper dwellings and " quaint " joss-houses 
in our fashionalile building-. 

Progress since I88(X — The fact does not seem to be so fully 
recognised as it ought to l)e that during the last few years this country 
has been passing through the earlier stages of a vital social revolution 
But if, as seems undeniable, the commercial movements of the Empire 
have been substituting new ascendencies for old, the effect, as it concerns 
om- subject, must be this :— that the " patronage " of the arts by the 
landed aristocracy is on the wane, and the " demand " for artistic work 
by the middle and lower classes of society on the rise. It is easy for 
any reflective person to I3ut this proposition into the language of either 
political economy or politics, and the architectural result will be the 
same. Country seats on a dignified scale have almost entirely ceased 
to be built, and also the corresponding metropolitan palaces. Whole 
streets of large and costly residences are now produced on speculation, 
for sale to commercial magnates, who fm'uish them with a new kind of 
splendid liberality. The mansions at the west-end of London which 
are occasionally built to private order are of the same class, and charged 
with the same novel graces. The smaller dwellings of less pretentious 
people follow suit in then* several degTces, till " Queen Anne " reaches 
the level of the country cottage, and cheap Japanese oddities excite 
a pleasurable wonder in the ser\'ants' hall. Thus the movement in 
favom' of the unrestrained distribution of art in popular forms, as 
opposed to the exclusive traditions of academicalism, is still gaining 
strength every day, and in every cpiarter. The direct authority of the 
South Kensington policy of Cole — and of the Prince Consort no doubt 
personally — may not be so observable as it used to be ; l)ut its indirect 
influence is more and more pervading the whole community. Bric-a-brac, 
piquant ornament and decoration, high colour, picturesqueness, quaint- 
ness, brick and terra-cotta work, " minor art " in every form, and tasty 
furnishing almost to distraction, have so far superseded the slow, stiff, 
stately " fine art " of forty years ago that little of it is left, and the 
fashionable architect of the day is the designer of dainty rooms to please 
the ladies ; and why not this in its turn ? 

Secular Gothic has vu'tually disappeared, and its former votaries are 
now the devotees of " Queen Anne." Their facile draughtsmanship, also, 
almost gluts the market ; and if its effect upon design is frequently 
beneficial, it is not now to be denied that it is occasionally detrimental. 
For delusive drawing, especially in architectural art, is more dangerous 
than bad drawing ; and it cannot be disputed that at this moment it is 
rampant, chiefly in the form of remarkably clever but remarkably 
fallacious pen-and-ink etching — a style of manipulation in which any 
desired efl:ect, of breadth or brightness, playfulness or repose, richness of 

Chap. YI. 



ornament, or even costliness of material, can be made to attach to the 
very poorest proportions and feeblest and falsest forms, by the simple 
expedient of scratching over the paper with the entirely uuarchitectm'al 
touches of " freehand." 

Ecclesiastical design of the best order has not in any degree forsaken 
the :\rediffival mode, and may be said to improve in grace ; but the 
fashionable Rococo has undoubtedly seized upon schools and parson- 
a"-es and the rest of the minor work. In fact, although the new mode. 



Book IV 

being essentially cf a domestic character, and laying hold of every 
subject that has a quasi-domestic purpose, would convert without scruple 
into something of the same kind even the stateliest subjects in the great 
towns, confounding altogether the monumental with the homely, we may 

St. Mary's, Portsea. 

certainly congTatulate ourselves that it has not attempted to attack the 
province of church building, except in one insignificant attempt by 
Norman Shaw in a very free-and-easy London suburb, which wa" 
scarcely serious and has been quite unj^roductive of imitation. 



, ;'M I'll 

biil iiM ! \^ '1 


Amoiig"st the most notable works in elnnvh building special mention 
must be made of the new Cathedi'al of Trnvo. bv Pearson. The competi- 
tion for a cathedral at Liverpool, however, was a more ambitions 
enterprise, promising us a revival of the pomp of eoclesiological in-ofusion 
for the gratification of the jn'ide i^f the merchant princes of the ^lersey : 
but it ended, as almost all great com]vtitions do, hi nothing but disap- 
jxnntment, except that the design of Brooks was very remarkable for 
cliaraoteristic muscularity of treatment. ^lere ordinary church work, 
although diminished in quantity, owing to the commercial depression of 
the time, has still been of high quality, and the places of Scott, Burges, 
and Street, as they successively died, were not unworthily filled by men 
of repute like Pearson, Bodley, Blomfield, and Brooks, while many 
younger meu were continually making an equally honourable attempt to 
gain equal fame. The restoration of St. Albau's Abliey has awakened a 
gi'eat deal of controversy, owing to the unusual circmustance of Sir 
Edmund Beckett (Lord Grimthorpe) having jxiid the piper in consider- 
ation of being permitted, not only to call the tune, but to play it with 
his own hand, to the gi'eat sc^iudal of the world of critics. Roman 
Catholic clim'ches in excellent Gothic have still been produced : but 
others in the Italian mode have also made their ap^x^arauce, one par- 
ticularly fiue example being the Oratory at Brompton, by Gribble. 
Nonconformist churches have been, as before, sometimes Gothic and 
sometimes Classic. More and more attention has been devoted to the 
detail of interiors : but the introduction into St. Paul's, Loudon, of a 
magnificent reredos in Italian Rococo has not as yet initiated any new 
artistic movement. 

In connection chiefly with ecclesiastical work, the practice of 
restoration in the form of renovation has come to be discussed with 
much anxiety, and indetxi acerbity : are'hitects of the school of Scott 
being contemptuously assailed by certaui outside artists and amateurs led 
by the distinguished decorative designer Morris. The new doctrine in 
its integrity goes so far as to declare that all authentic work, even of the 
most recent recognisable date, regarded quite apart from its artistic 
merits, and solely on account of its historical character, ought to be held 
sacred, never altered, never renewed, not even pvtched, but maintained 
in its full authenticity by such means as wUl keep it in a mere condition 
of existence as long as ix>ssible : so that an " Old Mortality " would not 
be allowed even to " restore " the half-obhterated name irpon a grave- 
stone. Xo doubt there is something fascinating here in theory : but it 
has carried its advocates much farther than the o\vners and occupiers of 
old structm"es can conveniently agree to follow them, or the professional 
architects -whom they consult as practical men of business. At any 
rate, the controversy, however interesting, is best regarded as an 
areh geological one. 

In Classical work we have had several competitions of high class : 


one for the War Office and Admiralty in London, resulting in nothing, 
as usual : another for the Glasgow IMunicipal Buildings, won, not so un- 
protitably, l)y Young ; and a tliird for Municipal Buildings at Edinburgh, 
resulting as usual. A very remarkable edifice, vainglorious in the 
extreme, the HoUoway College, by Crossland, is a ponderous imitation 
of a French chateau. Hotels, business houses, residential chambers, 
municipal offices, and other subjects of street architecture, in London and 
the provincial towns, have been produced in great abundance, and with 
considerable success, in various forms of academical and hybrid Italian. 
On the whole, however, the advance of the Queen Anne fashion has 
interfered very materially with Classic practice ; at first it used to be 
ostentatiously called " Free Classic " l)y its leading promoters, but it has 
been so much more free than Classic, that the designation has died out. 

It has to be particularly ol)served that in public competitions, and 
in the work of students at the Royal Academy and the Institute of 
Arcliitects, the development of good Classic design has been of late 
increasingly well exhibited, and sometimes witli an indication of French 
influence. The study of Renaissance detail of the Italian school, 
although frequently drifting towards the Rococo, has also done good 
service. Renaissance of the Flemish and German ty^Des — all called 
" Queen Anne " for short — has of com'se been at the same time a 
favourite study, but with less of artistic discrimination than of admiration 
for the dangerous quality of quaintness. 

The buikUngs actually executed in the Queen Anne style have been 
numerous and of all kinds, good, bad, and indifferent, mostly indifferent. 
In commonplace examples, red brick has been the favomite material, 
.and red tiling has been largely added in the form of prominent roofs. 
Ornamental gables, sometimes of enriched and sometimes of very 
impoverished effect, seem to be regarded as the leading featm-e of the 
mode, with all kinds of dormers by way of supplementaries, as if garrets 
were the most characteristic part of the accommodation. Huge chimney 
stacks, also, are thrust into view with the utmost hardihood, making 
them often the principal means of investing the composition with artistic 
merit — surely not of a high order. Wooden bay windows are deemed so 
essential that they are actually recessed into the wall rather than they 
should be omitted. Paltry doorways and incomprehensible little windows 
enter their protest against dignity without, and " nooks " and " ingles," 
twisted passages, breakneck steps for the sake of the questionable 
pleasure of surprise, and tipsy arrangements generally, carry out the 
same scheme of artistic merriment within. Breadth of treatment and 
repose are understood to mean the introduction of an occasional expanse 
of ostentatiously plain brick wall, or two or three windowless storeys in 
a shapeless tower, as a foil to the aspect of pleasantry elsewhere ; and 
when the window-sashes are made like the lattices of a fancy bird-cage, 
and all the external wood-work painted with the brightest of wRite lead^ 


after the manner of a doll's-honse, the domestic virtue of " the Queen 
Anne style " is at length fully asserted. In far better work than this, 
and in the hands of really good artists, the detail is still so coarse and 
corrupt — for the sake of " quaintness " — that even careful proportions 
and graceful forms fail to redeem the character of the composition : and 
it is doubtful whether any specimen of the style above the rank of a 
country cottage will withstand the commonest criticism twenty years 
hence. But nevertheless there is one respect in which we may accord a 
certain amount of praise to this singular fasliion. The dainty lady-like 
furniture-design of some of the interiors is certainly more than pretty ; 
it is minor art work in excels is. Whether it is high class architecture is 
quite another question ; but it fully illustrates the principle that academical 
pretension is giving way before the advance of the popular appreciation 
of art, more enjoyable because more sunple. 

It was the competition for the Offices of the London School Board 
on the Thames Embankment, won by Bodley, that first brought the more 
monumental Queen Anne into recognised popularity a few years before 
the period under review. The public schools built all over London by 
Robson, Stevenson l)eing also concerned in them, came to be designed in 
a similar style, with unusua-1 persistency, and, cousidermg their simplicity, 
^\dth frequent success. Examples of chief importance in other classes have 
been the Alliance Insurance Office in Pall Mall, by Norman Shaw ; the 
City of London G-uilds' Institute, by Waterhouse ; the National Liberal 
Club-house, by Waterhouse ; the Constitutional Club-house, by Edis ; the 
Birmingham Law Courts, by Aston Webb and Bell ; and the Imperial 
Institute, now in hand by Collcutt ; and certain dwelling-houses at South 
Kensington, by George, have attracted particular attention by reason 
of the pretty audacity of their character in the author's drawings, and 
the very different but equal bravery of their effect in red brick. There 
is a warehouse in Oxford Street, also by Collcutt, which has probably 
the most showy fagade in England for the money. Terra-cotta is 
largely used in all this kind of work, sometimes in crude and even vulgar 
red, and sometimes in one or another shade of buff, but never as yet AAdth 
that really careful though free artistic finish of form and colour with 
which the material seems to be capable of being treated. 

In direct connection with the develgpment of ArcMtectural Art during 
this period, it must be observed that the design of glass staining, mural 
painting, wall papers, carving, cabinet making, metal working, colour 
decoration, upholstery, and so on, even to the furnishing of ship 
cabins, has been engaging more and more the attention of highly 
educated architects, proud of their success. 

That the immediate future of English architecture is largely bound 
up with the progress of the present fashionable movement is a fact that 
must be looked fairly in the face. Absurd as its inferior manifestations 
too frequently are, palpable as are its critical shortcomings even in the 


most favourable circumstances, it evidently contains an element which 
creates popularity by meeting a popular want, the demand for mis- 
cellaneous art for the multitude— not the mob, but the public at large. 
Even church design may not be long unafPected by this strong motive 
power. When what is spoken of as Romanesque, or even Byzantine, is 
often suggested as the next step in Gothic modification, it is not at all 
unlikely that it may turn out to be some species of Renaissance — not 
Rococo — ^^■hich shall combine with ecclesiastical solemnity a certain 
relaxation, in a dii'ection more gracious than that of the mere slapdash 
picturesque. In municipal buildings it is still more probable that the less 
severe details of Renaissance work will come to be accepted, introducing 
a brighter or more playful form of the standard Modern European, which 
may then take general possession also of ordinary street architecture and 
domestic design in towns. If this should so turn out, then the style of 
thirty years hence may l)e a novel Anglo -Classic, robust in general 
character, carefully elegant in moulding and in modelling, picturesque 
within the limits of repose, and at last, like the Franco-Classic, no longer 
exotic and anomalous. 

Illustrations of Recent Architecture in England. — The 
examples which are here presented must be necessarily very few in 
number : and they cannot pretend to constitute anything like a 
discriminating selection, as regards either the special merits of the 
buildings or the title of their authors to more distinctive mention. 
The reader must be asked to regard them as being in a great measure 
taken at random and under obvious difficulties, for the simple purpose 
really in view, namely, the submission for his consideration of certain 
designs which are sufficiently characteristic historically of the work of 
the age. An adequate presentment of that work in its entirety is 
happily to be found in the admirable illustrations which the professional 
jom-nals ha^•e for many years past so copiously supplied to the world. 

We may very naturally take first the universally known and admired 
monument erected in London to the memory of the late Prince Consort, 
in a certain sense the chef-d'arnvre of Sir Gilbert Scott (Illustration No. 
219(7). The simple magnificence of its design, and the extraordinary 
splendour of its adornment, confer upon the Albert Memorial the very 
highest distinction amongst modern works of art ; and it happens that 
its peculiarities of execution serve in a certain measure to emphasise the 
idea of strait-laced academicalism being undermined by the more 
popular princiiDle of the day. It could certainly not be claimed that 
Scott was a doctrinaire of the school of Cole ; but he (like Pugin and 
Purges also) was an equally earnest advocate of the same liberal views 
of the Arts in a different form. Cole was an overthrower of the 
academical system ; Scott was a reformer of that system.. Cole con- 
cei^■ed the idea of almost abolishing the architect, as a pretender, and 
setting up the artizan in his place as a reality ; but Scott's aim was to 

VOL. II. 11" 





The Albert Memorial. 


utilise the architect as a reality to the utmost, in the capacity of a 
trained general officer of artizans, the chief of all the workmen. His 
continual cry, it is true, was for better artizans, not for better 
architects ; but these ideal workers were always to work under an ideal 
architect as chief -worker — one who should direct them, not as a mere 
commercial ao-ent. but as an expert universal artist rejoicing alike in all 
their work. The Albert IMemorial was of course not actually intended 
for an object-lesson in tliis direction ; but those who care to study its 
motives will not find it difficult to make it one. If it had been built of 
naked muscular masonry and nothing more, divested of all accessorial 
work, the mere academical architecture might have become, by com- 
pulsion, much better than it is ; but as an essay in the combination 
of many arts on perfectly equal ground, none competing with the 
architecture, but all constituting the architect's scheme of design, the 
efi^ect upon the public intelligence is a far grander result. The other 
day the French Minister of Fine Art found himself under the necessity 
of commenting to the Legislature on the difficulty he experienced in 
procuring harmonious action between the architects of j^ublic buildings 
and the other artists employed under their control. Now it is well known 
that the French decorative artist has long occuj^ied what may be regarded 
as a superior position to the English ; and especially when such a thing as 
sculptm-e or other decoration of a high class is in question. It is equally 
well understood that in France the education of the architect is conducted 
on the most laboriously academical lines ; and indeed that the same may 
be said of all art-workers whatever. Contemplating, therefore, the 
incident before us in a serious light, are we to be afraid lest the better 
education of the " minor " artist in England, and the better recognition 
of the equality in dignity of all artists, may lead to discord of this 
■ kind ? Not necessarily, it is to be hoped ; but how far is such a risk to 
be avoided by utilising the architect more and more as master of all arts ? 
One tiling at least may be said, the pecuHar technical training which is 
involved in the practical acquisition of professional architectural sldll 
seems to imbue a properly constructed mind with sound principles of 
anatomical design which are not to be acquired elsewhere. 

Taking the other illustrations in the order in which they are placed, 
Fig. 219a (page 135) represents the celebrated Chm'ch of All Saints, 
Margaret Street, London, by Butterfield ; the production of which 
marked the inaugm*ation of a new architectural motive. This was, in 
short, the elevating of the standard of the highest of High-Church 
building ; and the standard-bearer was Beresford-Hope. It has to be 
observed ,that one of the primary principles in tliis extreme kind of 
ecclesiastical architecture seems to be the coercive production of the 
" dim religious light " of the poet. Internally, at least, the express ex- 
clusion of common worldly daylight — which has been a rule from the 
earliest ages to the latest wherever mystery had to be cultivated — contri- 

M 2 


butes so greatly to the creation of a feeling of awe that it becomes a i 
direct and leading historical element in Art. It may l)e snggested ' 
that one chief difference between the forms of worship of the Romanists 
and those of the Protestants (nntil lately) is that in the one case the light 
of day is intentionally shnt out, and in the other intentionally let in. 
In the one case, accordingly, the exercise of imagination is encouraged ; 
in the other it is restrained. That imaginative worship develops into 
artistic worshij) has been abundantly proved ; and it need not be denied 
tiiat the unimaginative and the inartistic go equally well together. 
With regard, however, to the external mannerisms that come to be 
cultivated as if in harmony with the darkened effects of ritualistic 
interiors, it seems to be questionable whether they ought to be con- 
sidered as normally austere or not. Inasmuch as colour decoration very 
prom})tly asserts its importance within, this soon leads to the study of ■ 
colour without : but colour in artificial obscurity and colour under the 
open sky are- obviously different things. Turning then for a moment to 
the architecture proper of All Saints' Church, it may suffice to observe 
that it is intentionally gloomy both inside and out ; but if we direct our 
attention to the spire alone, we may consider that we are contemplating 
the most characteristic feature. The reader will ask himself, of course, 
whether it is a good or a l^ad composition ; and he may answer the 
question as he pleases. But it must be remembered that, at the time 
this spire was built, the more austere and graceless styles of Neo-Gothic 
had not as yet been evolved, the spurious merit of malice ^irepense had 
not been suggested to the mind. It may fairly enough be recorded that 
" Butterfield's spire " was generally pronounced to be intentionally poor. 
But it must be admitted at the same time that its poverty did not fail 
to gain upon the affections of a great many acute critics, and it may be 
added that it cannot be said to have lost its hold to this day. If, however, 
the student cares to discriminate with sufficient pains the peculiarities of 
treatment attaching to the Avork of the leading architects respectively of 
the modern Anglo-Gothic School, he will certainly find that intentional 
severity has never won permanent approval, but that a desire for 
pleasantness always has : even in this it is better to smile than to frown, 
and the merits of All Saints' Church are generally voted to be, at the 
best, needlessly lugubrious. 

St. Vincent's Church, Cork, by Goldie, (No. 219/^, page 138), is offered 
as a good example of much more agreeable design ; a Roman Catholic 
example also, and an Irish example. There is no reason in the world 
w^hy good Gothic should be in any degree of horrid aspect, and much of 
the authentic ancient work was very notably different. 

Fettes College, Edinburgh, by Bryce, (No. 219c, page 140), is selected 
as a Scotch work both of pretension and of merit. In Scotch buildings of 
the best class there is almost always exhibited, if possible, a tendency of a 
pseudo-patriotic kind towards the introduction of certain quite obsolete 


features — such as the tourelle or angle turret and the stepped gable — 
which are supposed to be essentially of native character. Critically this 
can scarcely be regarded otherwise than as an affectation, and scarcely 
in any cu'cumstances an excusable one. The reason seems to be that, 
up to the time of (jueen Elizabeth, Scotland had much more sympathy 
with France than with England ; Queen Mary, it will be remembered, 
was actually Dauphiness of France. Therefore, Avhen the English 
gentry were building Avhat Ave call Tudor and Elizabethan mansions, the 
Scotch Avere building a sort of French chateaux. Accordingly, so 
obstinate is human custom, that when a Scotch architect of the present 
day puts " pepper-boxes " and " corbie-steps," jjer fas aid nefas, alike 
upon his Italian, liis Gothic, and his Queen Anne, we must pardon him 
for his patriotism's sake, and only most respectfully ask whether his 
designs Avould not be a little better Avithout them. 

The Manchester ToA\m Hall (No. 219^, page 141) Avill probably 
alAvays be regarded, historically at least, as the chef-fV muvre of Water- 
house. At the time of building, it Avas certainly the most demon stratiA'e 
work in Secular Grothic that had been attempted, and perhaps the most 
successful. There is tliis remarkable contrast, amongst others, between 
France and England, that Avhereas in France the gTeat provincial cities 
are more or less respectful subordinates of Paris, in England they are 
more or less distinctly independent and almost aggressive rivals of 
London ; in other Avords, the local " ratepayers," if their community be 
big enough, and their funds and borrowing powers consequently liberal 
enough, and if theu' local pride can be snflBciently aroused, are able 
to build quite as grandly as the Government, and much more in- 
dependently of control. At LiA'erpool, amongst the multitude of more 
ordinary municipal edifices, all costly enough in their Avay, there stands 
one, St. George's Hall, (Plate 203, page 83) of Avhich it is not too much 
to say that no Government at "Whitehall would have ever dared to 
propose the budding of such a structure ; even that grand escapade of 
Parliament in the architectural Avay, its OAvn Palace of Westminster, 
compared by measure of working acconmiodation, comes far behind St. 
George's Hall in largeness of ideas. At any rate, the ToAvn Hall of 
Manchester is a truly splendid specimen of the liberality of an English 
municipality ; and a proof of the soundness of the modern English 
princii^le of local self-reliance, as opposed to State assistance, for the 
advancement of Art. Hoav far the style of design is suited to the 
business that goes on in the edifice is riot a question to be now taken m 
hand ; it has passed into the province of historical, not practical 
criticism ; but one tiling that may certainly be said is that the pains- 
taking arcliitect has made the best of both proportions and detail. 

The church (or cathedi'al) of St. Mary's, Edinburgh, by Scott (No. 
219?, page 143), is the outcome of the celebrated competition of designs 
in AA'hich Burges and Street so much distinguished themselves. Street's 


design was archaic and austere, as usual ; Burges's was ambitiously 
developed, refined, and elegant ; Scott's was more unaffected, simple, and 
in every Avay moderate and modest — what an influential minority call 
commonplace and weak, but a still more influential majority approve 
and accept. The churches of Sir G-ilbert Scott are so numerous, and so 
universally distributed, that there are very few persons of taste who 
have not seen one or more specimens of his ever gTacious and pleasing 
style, amiable and unoffending like his o\ni nature. The present 
example, although quite characteristic of his mode, does not pretend to 
illustrate it to the very best advantage ; it is presented more for its 
historical value. 

The Town Hall at Congleton (No. 211)/*, page 146), is a specimen of 
the work of that gifted artist but inveterate Bohemian, Edward Godwin.- 
It is considered to be one of our best examples of Secular Gothic, and 
all the more so because it is small and unambitious. Its graces of 
projjortion — the chief object of the designer after all — speak for them- 
selves, even on so inadequate a scale of delineation. 

A Bank at Birkenhead by Seddon (No. 219^, page 147), is another 
successful example of Secular Gothic, unassuming in character, and with 
its Gothicism duly modified to accord with the conditions of modern 
business and residence. It is only fair to say that judicious modification 
of this sort characterised a great deal of the ordinary designing of the 
Gothic school ; so that it was often matter for regret that the inappropriate 
features and details which were held to be indispensable for style should 
not have been more ingeniously dealt with for convenience. 

The next illustration (No. 21 9A, page 148), shows one of the best 
portions of the famous Law Courts of London, by Street. It would be 
useless to give the great Strand fagade, for several reasons. Its com- 
position, critically considered, is still the subject of controversy, and 
o^sinion is commonly adverse to it. Moreover, everybody knows it by 
heart. Lastly, it is too large as a whole, and too fragmentary in any 
part. But if we could reproduce on an adequate scale the architect's 
autograph drawing (ic is in the gallery of the Eoyal Academy as his 
diploma work), it may safely be said that anyone might reasonably be 
excused for denying that it represents the building. The exquisite 
touch of Street's draughtsmanship was phenomenal ; it consecrated any- 
thing. Did it deceive himself ? Very probably it did. It may not be 
amiss here to refer to the always remarkable difference between English 
architectural drawing and French. One sees at a glance that the 
French drawing — say a delicately shadowed elevation — is essentially 
Classic, and that the corresponding English dra^^dng — a picturesquely 
and indeed rudely sketched perspective — is as thoroughly Gothic. It is 
the same difference, of course, that pre^-ails between the French building 
and the English building. There was the same difference, again, 
between the Classic designing and building of Greece and Eome and the 


Gothic designing and building of Mediasval Eiu'ope. The Parthenon 
was built of marble delicately wrought ; it might just as well ha'ST been 
built of silver, or of crystal, or of steel, and the greater the elaboration of 
workmanship the more exquisite the effect of finesse. The same, to a. 
certain extent, may be said of even such modern buildings as Wren's St. 
PauVs. But a glance at Westminster Abbey, or, let us say, Canterbury 
Cathedral or York Minster, suggests a very different style of treatment. 
Eefinement of workmanship would not merely be wasted, it would be 
destructive of character. Much more appropriate would it be to build 
the great picturesque pile with the coarsest material and the roughest 
craftsmanship. Within reasonable limits, the ruder the work the more 
muscular and impressive it is ; like an ancient Gothic song, of war or 
peace, revenge or love, all equally rude and muscular if really Gothic. 
But (returning to our draughtsmanship) what is the result of this 
radical difference between the French mode and the English ? If the 
actual building is intended to be executed with ordinary neatness and 
precision, the French drawing is obviously the representation of truth. 
If, on the other hand, the English drawing is to be the equivalent of 
truth, the execution of the building ought to be equally rough and ready, 
or the effect of picturesqueness is very likely to be a failure. Indeed, it 
was for this very reason that such failures in Secular Gothic were so 
numerous ; and in " Queen Anne " work the case is still the same. The 
one advantage in the English system is the use of perspective draughts- 
mansliip, which is carried to great perfection as regards the effect of the 
solid en hloc ,- but the special merit of the French system is the encour- 
agement it affords for painstaking modelling en detail. 

A favourite production of Street's in his more pro]oer province of 
ecclesiastical design was the new jwrch at Bristol Cathedral (Xo 210/ 
page 14l>). Although, as matter of historical criticism, it is no doubt 
quite correct to identify Street with the stern duty, as he thought it 
of forcing comfortable people at the end of the nineteenth century to 
accept the uncomfortal)le architectural conditions of the thirteenth, as 
being the narrow way that leadeth unto life, it would be altogether wrong 
to suppose that he was devoid of the sense of graceful and e^'en elegant 
proportion when he permitted himself to please his eye though his heart 
might ache. The engraving, by the way, as the reader who is accus- 
tomed to Street's work will perceive, is produced by photograpliic 
process from an actual drawing of the architect's, bearing his signature, 
au"! will serve, therefore, to illustrate his charming style of handling as 
well as his true artistic taste. 

It may require a little reflection to understand the reason why the 
next illustration is presented m conjunction with the last as a specimen 
of the work of Burges (No 219Z", page 150). It is hoped that justice 
has been done in other pages to the merits of this quaint man of genius ; 
and if the reader has grasped the true character of his mind he will 


clearly see that the famous chimney-piece in the house which he luiilt f or 
himself in Melbury Road, Kensington, has been selected (by an appreci- 
ative friend) as a good thing to know him by. It must not be imagined 
that our odd enthusiast meant this to be a travesty of art ; very much 
the reverse. He jokes with his subject, no doubt ; because he always 
had a leaning that way, and where was he to indulge it without restraint 
if not in his o^vn house ? Thus it is that tliis example is Burges pure 
and simple. Of the peculiarities of the architectural design nothing 
need be said except that they arc Burges's pleasure for the moment. The 
sculpture is equally his own work, and his own pleasure. Tlie whole 
afPau' is charged with jocosity ; but if those Avho are not ah'eady in the 
secret will understand that the foliated corbel-course over the fireplace 
has the alphabet half hidden amongst the foliage, their attention may be 
directed to one end of the lintel, where they will see that the letter H 
has been "dropped," as a touch of humour not beyond the reach of Art. 

Lowther Lodge, Kensington (Xo 219/, page 152), is one of Xorman 
Shaw's favourite works, and exhibits very well the merits of the best 
order of Queen Anne design of the domestic class. It is obviously in 
domestic building that such a style of architectural treatment is really 
at home ; and the refined proportions of some of this architect's simplest 
brick houses are certainly very striking. Whether equal success can ever 
be hoped for in applying the more ambitious version of Queen Anne, or 
Flanders Rococo, to public buildings in our towns, the reader nuist 
determine for himself. 

The House at Harrington Gardens, by George (No 219)«-, page 15:3), 
shows a style of treatment which is very much admired by many, as a 
more legitimate " Queen Anne " mode. English it does not pretend to 
be, and so much the better. But here again is a case in which extra- 
ordinarily picturesque draughtsmanship goes far to produce architecture 
on paper which fails to maintain its charm when realised in red brick. 
The courage, however, of some of this architect's designs is what seems 
to be their most remarkable merit, and the complete accord of interior 
with exterior in supporting the acce]3ted histrionic idiosyncrasy. 

In the Chui'ch of the Holy Innocents at Hammersmith (Xo 219/?, 
page 155), we have an exceedingly characteristic specimen of the very 
popular work of Brooks. The motive of this architect seems to be to 
emulate the austerity of Street, but to be courageously original in that 
du-ection where Street would be strictly authentic. The muscularity of 
all Brooks's work is undeniable, and its simplicity and independence. 

St. Mary's Chm'ch, Portsea, by Blomfield (Xo 219o, page 150), may 
be studied as a sound example of quite unaffected and careful design in 
a new church of large dimensions for practical English purposes. It is 
a thoroughly modest work, and the accomplished architect can well 
afford to have it looked at somewhat askance by those Avho prefer high 
action to repose. 


M»ny admirable buildings have of late years been carried out by the 
unnersiy authorities at O.xford and Cambridge; all more or ta 
animated by an imitative spirit of course, for our two g"eat sL^ 
earning are not much modernised as yet. Various lead ng ar^ll 
have been employed, but the "Sc-hools" at Oxford bv Jackso^ (No"i* 

Warehouse, Glasgow. 

s^^vi, ' , ' ^^ ; 'T'™:' l»rt«=»'«''ly '"ll worthy of illustration, as 
shoung ho„ one of the best opportunities has been made available for 
P oduciiig an ensemble of the highest order of attractive proport ons 

IdtdT^hT ^ "i"''^'' "' '""''•'" *^ reader may deLCe for 
himself, with due regard for the exigencies of the day 

The last of this series of illustrations (No 219r), represents a very 


peculiar style of design which was the sjDecialty of Alexander Thomson 
of Glasgow — " Greek Thomson " as he was called. There are several 
prominent works of his in Glasgow which display most remarkal)le merit. 
He carried the Hellenic motive back to meet the Egyptian, and modern- 
ised both with much painstaking of detail. He hoped to be the founder 
of a new school, but that was impossible. — Ed.] 



[Canada. — The influence of English practice upon the architecture 
of North America must be considered in some detail under the head of 
the United States ; and the progress of the art in Canada might not 
improperly be dealt with as part of that question, inasmuch as the 
enterprising practitioners of the Great Republic seem quite disposed, 
and very naturally, to claim the Canadian towns as a portion of their 
own professional territory. But whether the English authority is ac- 
cepted from England directly, or tlii'ough the United States as an inter- 
mediary, is immaterial, the recent architecture of Canada has unques- 
tionably followed close upon English development. Most of the best 
work seems to have been actually done by Enghshmen ; the French 
element does not appear to make itself specially discernible ; and there 
is no separable native influence of any importance. In the old-fashioned 
towns the style of design is of the same quaint, but valueless and 
spiritless character of commonplace eighteenth century work which 
belonged to the settlements of New England, and indeed to other 
British colonies. But within the last half -century the use of the Italian 
style for the municipal edifices, the Gothic for the ecclesiastical, and 
the local patriarchal mode for the domestic, has been the rule, the 
Secular Gothic making an effort here and there, and the Free Classic 
taking its place in due course, but all in the modest way that befits a 
community considered to be rather behind the age in these stirring 
times. More recently, however, several buildings of much higher 
pretensions have made their mark ; and our best course will be to present 
characteristic illustrations of these, which can speak for themselves. 

The building at the McGill University, Montreal, shown in Plate 
No. 219s, represents very fairly a sufficiently graceful treatment of 
Classic — indeed of Neo-Grec, although scarcely in French form — oh 
somewhat academical ground. The reader will find several indications 
in tliis design of that kind of independent thought which is charac- 
teristically American. 

The Parliamentary Library at Ottawa (No. 210/), is a portion of a 

Chap. VIL 



very extensive Palace of the Legislature, all in the same bold and 
meritorious Medievalist manner. Whether the style in itself is ap- 
propriate to tlie traditions of the country may be matter for debate, and 
no doubt is so amongst local critics ; but the successful picturesqueness 
of the design cannot be disputed, and jDrobably it will be acknowledged 
that the special massiveness of treatment accords sufficiently well with tlie 
climatic conditions. 

Numerous interesting examples might of course be given of good 
modern work in Canada, but these two will suffice to satisfy the reader 
of the superior quality of the best of it. 

McGill University, Montreal. 

Australia and New Zealand. — Speaking generally, the progress 
of architecture in Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Auckland, Welling-ton, 
and other towns at the antipodes, has been on the same lines as in the 
United States of America. The influence of English practice has been 
similar, the same styles of design have been accepted, and the same 
treatment has been followed. At the epochal date of 1851 it may be 



Book IV. 

said that all the chief towns of these colonies were already Irailding 
churches of consideraljle pretension, and municipal edifices sti'l more 
ambitious — City Halls, Post Offices, Law Courts, Banks, Insurance 
Offices, and so on — quite on a par with those of the provincial towns 
in England ; while the suburban Colleges and Asylums, the great 
warehouses for trade, and the private d\^'elling-houses of wealthy citizens, 
were not in any great degree backward. Shice then, it need not be said, 
the effect of international communication has been as remarkable here as 
elsewhere throughout the ^vorld ; all the Industrial Arts have advanced, 
and Architecture, the chief of them, the most conspicuously. 

Parliamentary Library, Ottawa. 

The Houses of Parliament at Melbourne (No. 219w), may justly be 
called a very grand example of architectm'al design, in every way 
worthy of a great English colony. If the reader will at once compare 
it attentively with the corresponding and no less meritorious edifice at 
Sydney (No. 219?/), no matter on which side his personal sympathies 
of taste happen to be, the contrast may serve to illustrate forcibly the 

Chap. VIL 



rival claims of Classic and Gothic to be regarded as the most appropriate 
style for public buildings of supreme importance. On the one hand we 
have a most dignified repose ; on the other a most playful picturesque- 

ness. Academical stateliness at Melbourne, such as no one would 
venture to propose just now in England, is contrasted with the half- 
severe and half -sportive Secular Gothic at Sydney, wliich a short time 


Catholic Cathedral. Melbourne. 

..„ .. >.. .. - °^. "^ - tx::rrJz!'^^- 

tallding, en«ially when ''^W^'f ^y -h-h connect native histo.7 
Ot course there ave no traditions a^^Sytoy ^^^^.^^^ .^ ,^^^,^ .^j,,,,^. 

t? f :r:; "rU:nt-" ^ MChonme .. the or 





Book IV. 

Versailles. But in both cases alike, and quite indiscriminately, the 
traditions of Old England may claim authority ; and the question for 
the reader to reflect upon is the apparently easy, but really most difficult 
point — what is the English style ? At the present moment, some of 
our architects would scarcely hesitate to affirm that both of these colonial 
palaces might have been excellently well-developed in crude red brick, 
one with terra-cotta intermixed perhaps, and the other with nothing 

Dalton's Warehouse, Sydney. 

better than neatly rubbed and carved " malm cutters ; " but the mere 
suggestion of such a jest ought to go far to show us how weak a thing 
an idle fashion may be, and how readily it may become the fate of a 
fashionable architect to receive derision from posterity instead of ap- 
plause. But we may safely say that in neither of the designs before us 
do we see the true traditions of England so rudely violated. Let us look, 
then, at the contrast of style from another point of view. It is well 


known that the usnal faihng of the grandiose Classic consists in the too 
prejndicial compromise of matters of internal anatomy A\hich is de- 
manded bv the exigencies of external symmetry ; wliile the nsual merit 
of the piijnant Gotliic lies in the independence of such inconvenient 
control which belongs to the spuit of irregularity. We may admit, for 
the sake of sufficient majesty without, that a reasonable amount of 
difficult adjustment within shall be fairly encountered, and a not 
unreasonaljle amount of incidental compromise accepted when the 
resources of ingenuity have been fully exhausted. We may also admit — 
now that Secular Gothic has been superseded by Flanders Eococo — that 
there can be no doubt of the facility with which the Gothic principle 
can be applied to meet all the anatomy of building, provided " only that 
the mere traditional features of authenticity shall be judiciously sacrificed 
to the claims of more modern feeling. Whether, as Fergusson suggests, 
* there is a via media to be discovered which shall provide us with all or 
nearly all the stately repose of the Melbourne design, and all or nearly 
all the liberty and piquancy of the Sydney design, is of course a question 
for the future, and probably not for the more immediate future. 

The Ptoman Catholic Cathedral of St. Patrick at Melbom-ne (No. 
2192'), is presented, not for the criticism of a certain school of eccle- 
siastical purists, but to show what our colonists can do in creditable 
and costly church building. It seems doubtful, indeed, whether we at 
home can always do so much and so well. 

The Parliament Houses and Government Offices at Sydney (No. 
219^), have been considered a couple of pages back in contrast with the 
Houses of Parhament at Melbourne (No. 219/r) ; and all that it seems 
necessary to add is that the design is most creditable to the colony, even 
if some of the local critics should be found to suggest that it is scarcely 
so much in accord as a whole -with the bright sky that holds the 
Southern Cross as with the more gloomy atmosphere where Ursa Major 

The Dalton Building at Sydney (No. 2192) is offered as an illus- 
tration of the handling of an ordinary Italianesque motive with what 
must be called original feeling and undeniable success. The treatment 
speaks for itself. — Ed.] 






In describing the modern Arcliitectnre of Germany, it will be con- 
venient to insist more strongly than has been necessary in the j^re- 
ceding pages on the distinction which exists between the Renaissance 
and the Revival styles of Art, which was pointed ont in the last 

By the former is meant that style which was practised in Enrope 
during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, and may 
be described as an attempt to apply the details and principles of 
Classic Art to modern forms, and to adaj^t them to modern usages 
and requirements. The Revival — which is wholly the creation of the 
nineteenth century — pretends to reproduce the actual buildings of 
the earlier styles, with such correctness of detail as to cheat the most 
practised connoisseur into a belief that he is looking on an actual 
production of the age to wliich it professes to belong, provided he can 
bring liimself to believe he " didna see the biggin' o't." 

Bearing this distinction in mind, the Renaissance Architecture of 
Germany may be dismissed in a very few lines, inasmuch as, during 
these three centm'ies, not a single arcliitect was produced of whom 
even his compatriots are proud, or whose name is remembered in other 
countries ; and not a single building erected the architecture of which 
is worthy of much study, nor one that calls forth the admiration of 
even the most patriotic Germans themselves. 

The excuse for this state of things, so far as concerns Church 
Architecture, is, that the struggles of the Reformation, and the devas- 
tations of the Thirty Years' War, tln-ew Germany back for a century 
at least, and left her with a divided establishment and a superfluity of 
churches — inherited from the ages of united faith and ecclesiastical 
supremacy ; while, on the other hand, the number of small kingdoms 
and principalities into which the country was divided, each with its 
own small capital, prevented them from indulging in that magnifi- 


cence in Secular Art which the unity of the greater monarchies 
enabled them to display. 

The real cause probably lies deeper, and will be found in the fact 
that, however great or good the Germans may be in other respects, 
they have no real feeling for the refinements of Art, and no taste for 
architectural display. In fact, since the great age of the Hohen- 
staufen, Germany has done nothing great or original in this direction. 
As was pointed out in a previous chapter,^ she borrowed her Pointed 
Gothic style from the French, and very soon marred it entirely by 
fancying that mechanical dexterity and exaggerated tours de force 
were the highest aim and objects of an art whose best qualities are 
expressed by solidity and repose. In their painting, too, technical 
skill and patient elaboration of detail were qualities more esteemed 
than the expression of emotion or the presentation of a poetical idea. 
There was a good deal to admire and much to wonder at in the Art 
of the Germans of the age immediately preceding the Eeformation, 
but little that either appealed to the feelings, or awakened any of the 
deeper or more lasting emotions of the human heart. 

When, after the troubles of the sixteenth century, the Germans 
settled down to the more quiet and prosperous years of the seven- 
teenth and eighteenth, the Teutonic mind seems almost to have 
forgotten that such a thing as a fine art existed — at least, as a living 
form of utterance that could be j^ractised in those days. 

It is true that the wealth of the Saxon kings induced them to 
spend enormous sums on works of art, but their patronage took the 
form of purchasing the pictures of foreign artists, and mi^nufacturing 
expensive toys at home, while they lived in a palace so mean in 
appearance, that it requires strong faith in the veracity of your " valet 
de place " to believe that such is really a royal residence. It is true 
also that Frederick of Prussia displayed his greatness in building 
French palaces as he wrote French verses ; but it is difficult to say 
which is the least worthy of the admiration of posterity. The truest 
type of Teutonic Art is perhaps the Burg at Vienna — the Imperial 
residence of the Emperors of Germany — on which each succeeding 
member of the House of Hapsburg has left his mark, Init without 
one of them showing the least appreciation of the value of archi- 
tectural display, or the smallest desire to depart from the niost homely 
form of utilitarian convenience. 

Notwithstanding this Teutonic apathy to Art, there are a few 
buildings which cannot be passed over, being interesting, if not for 
their beauty, at least for their originality, and the constructive 
lessons they convey. 

' 'History of Architecture,' vol. i , p. 560. 

N 2 



Book V. 



One of the earliest and most remarkable churclies of this epoch is that 
of St. Michael at Munich, built from the designs of an architect called 
Miiller, between the years 1583 and 1597. The nave is one grand 
spacious hall, 180 feet long by G7 in width, covered by a simple 
waggon-vault of brickwork without any pillars or apparent abutment 
inside ; the choir is narrower, but in most pleasing proportion to the 
nave ; and the lighting, which is kept high, is just sufficient without 
being obtrusive. It would perhaps have been better if the transept 
had been omitted or differently managed ; but the real defect of the 
church consists in the execrable details with wliich tliis noble design 

220. Plau of St. Michael's Church, 
Munich. I'rom a Drawing by 
F. Penrose, Esq. Scale 100 feet 
to 1 inch. 

221. Section of St. Michael's Church, Munich. From a Drawing 
by F. Penrose, Esq. Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. • 

Chap. I. 



is carried out. These are so offensively bad tliat few trouble them- 
selves to realise the grandem* of the design wliich they disfigui'e, and 
externally they are so much worse that few travellers care to enter a 
church which promises so little that could be worthy of admiration ; 
but if these can be forgotten or o\'erlooked, its dimensions are such 
as few, if any, churches can equal, either as regards spaciousness or 
harmony of 2:>roportions ; nor has any church of its age a vault of such 
daring boldness of construction. 

The real interest of this design consists in its illustrating, as 
clearly as any that can be quoted, Avhat the early Renaissance 
architects were really aiming at in the changes they Avere intro- 
ducing. They felt — whether rightly or A\Tongly may be questioned — 
that the pillars with which the Clothic architects crowded their naves 
not only . occupied a great deal of useful space, but interrupted the 
view of the ceremonial at the altar, and interfered with the grandeur 
of the processions. The great vault of the Eoman Therms showed 
them how much larger spaces could be roofed without supports : and, 
captivated with their discovery, they sought instantly to adopt it, 
but in doing so rushed to the other extreme. It was accidental that 
at the same time the rage for Classical details should also ha^-e sprung 
up, but that was not the primary feeling which captivated the early 
architects. The real motive was the vastness of Roman designs ; 
and, whether at St. Peter's, at Mantua, or, in this instance, they 
sought to emulate the greatness more than the forms of the Classical 
structm-es. It was really not till 
the time of Palladio and his school 
that they sought also to repro- 
duce the plans and details — at 
least as the principal object of a 
design. Had they adhered to the 
former system, we might perhaps 
have hardly regretted the change. 
It was the second inspiration that 
really ruined the art, and produced 
all the incongruities which Ave 
afterwards lament. 

More original than this, and 
perhaps the most satisfactory 
church in Germany of this age, is 
the Liebfrauen-Kirche at Dresden. 

It is a square church, 140 ft. each Avay, exclusive of the apse, covered 
by a dome 75 ft. in diameter, resting on eight piers ; but its great 
peculiarity being the perfect truthfulness Avith Avhich it is con- 
structed throughout. Internally and externally it is Avholly of stone ; 
not only the dome, but the Avhole of the roof is shomi, and all is 

222. Plan of the Liebfrauen-Kirche, Dresden. 



Book T. 

coustructively true — a merit possessed bv no other mediaeval or 
modern chmx?h. The shape, too. of the dome is suflBcieiitly graceful 
exteruallv : aud, with its four subordiuate tuiTets, forms the most 
pleasing object in everv view of the city. luternallv, it is too high 
in proix)rtion to its other dimensions, and, having no nave or tran- 
septs, it is rather well-like in appearance, while the effect has been 
further marred bv the theatrical manner in which it has been fitted 

A ien" of iue Li biriuen-Kirche, Dresden. Fr:'m a Photograph. 

up. There is a regtilar pit, two tiers of boxes, aud a gallery — all of 
the flimsiest construction, and in the worst possible taste. Externally, 
too. there is a coarseness and vulgarity in its details which detract^ 
very considerably from the effect : but. notwithstanding these defects, 
it is the most pleasing and suggestive of German churches, and. 
■with sUght modifications, it might be made very beautiful : but 
it would be expecting too much to look for any great beaut\ of 
design in the age in which it was erected (172G-1745). or from an 

( :;ap. I. GERMANY: EEXAISSA^XE. 183 

unknown individual like Behr, who has the credit of being its 

Like the Jestiits' church at Munich, it was an effon to do some- 
thing that neither the Eoman nor Gothic architects had achieved, and 
was only unsuccessful from its l>eing a first attempt. Those who are 
aware how many himdreds — it may l>e said thousands — of repetitions 
were necessary before a really satisfactory Gothic church was btiilt. 
should not feel surprised that this first essay tD realise a novel form 
should not Ix? quite successftd : but if a second, or third, or fourth had 
been demanded, the last, or at least the twentieth, might have been aU 
that could be desired. But it never was repeated. The next church 
was by a different architect, in a different style. The principle died 
wirh its author, as is the case with most modem designs : and all. 
couse<juently, fail in producing the effect that might easily have been 
attained liy a more persistent system. 

The only Eenaissance chtu-ch of any architectural pretensions that 
Vienna can boast of is that of San 
Carlo BoiTomeo, btiilt by Charles 
YL. in 1716. from designs by 
Johann Fischer,^ the most cele- 
brated architect of his day. The 
nave is covered by a dome, ellip- 
tical in plan (75 by 110 ft. ?), and, 
conseijuently. of most disagreeable 
and ever-varying outline ex- ^ — — -^ 

ternally, ^rith two short transepts 
and a very long narrow choir. L,^7~2\ 

The facade is disproportionately 
wide, terminating in two towers, 
and with a portico of Corinthian 
pillars, on each side of which are two 
tall Doric columns, covered with 

bas-reliefs winding SpiraUy round ^.^ Pi^oftheChnrchofSanCarloBorromeo. 

them, like those of Trajan's Column s<^^ doubtful. 

at Rome. These represent scenes 

in the life of Carlo Borromeo, with all the incongruity of modem 

costume adapted to Classical design. Altogether, it is a strange 

conglomeration of parts, and. lx;ing principally in badly moulded 

stucco, the effect is neither tasteful nor imposmg. 

Even this church is better, however, than the Hof-Kirche at 
Dresden, commenced in the year 1737, from designs by Claveri, and 
which, notwithstanding its dimensions and its situation — which is 
imi'ivalled — is as unsatisfactorv a church as can well be imagined. 

* Bom 1650 : died 1724. 



Book V. 

Bad as this is even, it is better than the starved, poverty-stricken, 
stucco erection, dignified by the name of cathedral, at Berlin, which 
was built in the year 1750, by an architect ot the name of Bowman. 

In the last-named city there are two great chm^ches, in the Gens- 
d'armes. Platz, of the most commonplace architecture : so mean, that 
Frederick the Great determined to beautify them ; but instead of 
rebuilding or redecorating them, he left the churches in their original 
ugliness, and added a great mass of masonry in front of each. This 
consists of a square block, with a handsome Corinthian j^ortico — in 
stucco of course — on three of its faces, with two storeys of windows 
imder the porticoes ; over this is an attic, and in the centre of each a 

225. Church and Theatre in the Gens-d'armes Platz, Berlin. From a Phutograpb. 

tall dome, surrounded by a peristyle of columns. The outline of these 
domes is as graceful as any that have been erected of their class ; and 
owing to there being no constructive difficulties, they grow pleasingly 
out of the masses below ; so that altogether, though they are not real 
domes, they are deserving of considerable praise ; but being Inere shams, 
however, and executed in plaster, they lose much of the dignity to 
which they might otherwise attain. The design, too, of the blocks 
on which they stand is by no means ungraceful, and if their area 
had been added to the chm^ches, might have been excused : but, 
whatever their original destination, they are now mean and dilapi- 
dated residences, and mere screens in so far at least as the churches are 


A l)etter class of clinrclies are such as the Dom at Salzburg, built 
by Solario, iu IGli, the cathedral at Munich, the church at Molk, 
aucl mauy more. These aud others are built on the Italian plan — 
small copies of St. Peter's — with a dome in the centre, on the inter- 
section of the nave and transept, and generally two western towers. 
They are neither so elegant in design as their Italian prototypes, nor, 
from their being generally in stucco, have they the same redeeming 
(|uality of richness of material. But they are Catholic churches of a 
well-understood type aud ordinance, and, if they do not call forth much 
admiration, they do not offend by incongruity, or vain attempts to 
show off the ingenuity of the architect who designed them. None of 
them, however, present any distinguishing features not to be found on 
the other side of the Alps, and they hardly, therefore, deserve a jilace 
in a chapter devoted to German Architecture. 


The Germans were not more successful in their attempts at 
Secular Architecture during the period of the Renaissance than in 
their Ecclesiastical buildings. The architect wanders in vain through 
the capitals .of Germany in hopes of finding something either so 
original or so grand that it should dwell upon the memory, even if 
it does not satisfy the rules of taste. 

I'he best known and the most picturesque example is certainly the 

)astle at Heidelberg, though it perhaps owes more to its situation, to 

Its associations, and to its present state of ruin for its interest, than to 

Its merits as an architectural production. The first architectural part 

Pwas engrafted, in 155G, on the older feudal buildings, and is a pleasing 

i specimen of the style we should call Elizabethan in England ; but the 

most admired is the Fredericks Bau, built in 1607. It is a rich but 

overloaded specimen of the style which prevailed in France in the 

reign of Henri lY. Situated in a courtyard as this is, we can forgive 

a considerable amount of over-ornamentation ; but, even then, the 

effect produced is by no means equal to the amount of labour bestowed 

upon it : and with every allowance for divergence of taste, there is an 

amount and style of carving here which might be appropriate in 

cabinet-work, but certainly is inappropriate and offensive in anything 

more monumental. 

At Cologne there is a pleasing porch added to the old Rathhaus, 
in 1571. and, though so late in date,, the arches are slightly pointed, 
notwithstanding their being placed between Classical pillars, and 
the roof is groined after a tolerably pure Gothic tyjie. Though 
small. tb3re is more thought bestowed on its design than may be 
found ii many buildings of very much larger dimensions ; and this, 
combinid with a considerable degree of elegance, has resulted in 



Porch of Katlihaus, Cul>jgnc. From a Photograph. 

producing the most pleasing piece of Architecture that Germany 
can boast of during these three centuries. It is trae the Order 
here employed is a mere ornament, but it does not pretend to be 
anything else. The real constructive work is seen to be done by 
the arches behind it ; and great pains are taken to make it appear 
that the pillars and their accompaniments are added not only to 
give richness to the design, but also to call back the memories of 
Classical Art most appropriate in the Capital of the great Colonia 
of the Romans. 

The most original, and perhaps also the most picturescpie, building 
in Germany of this age, is the Zwinger Palace at Dresden, commenced, 
in 1711, by Augustus 11. Unfortunately it is only a fragment — the 
forecourt to a palace which would have been of wonderful splendour 
had it ever been completed, though the taste in which it was designed 
may have been more provocative of laughter than of feelings of 
respect. In a courtyard certain vagaries are admissible ; but in no 
age, and in no .place in Europe,^ has so grotesque a .tyle been 

^ The thing most like it is perhaps the Kaiser Bagh at Luuknow 

ClIAP. 1. 



Part of the Zwinger Palace, Dresden. From a Drawing by Prout. 

carried into execution as here. It is an exaggeration of tlie Rococo 
style of Louis XV., such as in France was only applied to internal 
decoration, and employed in this palace more extravagantly than ever 
dreamt of by any French architect. It could only have beeji applied 
to external architecture by the kings who wasted their treasures on 
the toys of the Griine Gewolbe, 

In singular contrast to this, the same Elector built the Japanese 
Palace as a country residence — in the German sense of the term — 
within a gunshot of the Zwinger. It is a square block of buildings, 
divided on each face into five compartments, each three Avindows in 
width. The basement is rusticated ; the two upper storeys adorned 
with, and included in, one range of pilasters. The roof is pleasingly 
broken into masses, and being covered with copper, which is now 
of a bright green colour, the effect of the whole is peculiar but 
pleasing — perhaps as much so as any palace in Germany ; though 
this arises not from any remarkable beauty or originality it may 
possess, but simply because it is a design, and l)ecause there are no 



Book V. 

228. • Japanese Talace, Dresden. From a Photograph. 

offensive extravagances about it, or any attempt to make it appear 
other than it is. 

The Schloss at Berlin ought to be an interesting building, inas- 
much as it contains specimens of the work of each succeeding elector 
or king since Prussia first emerged from obscurity to the present 

day ; and its dimen- 
sions are such that it 
must have a certain 
dignity in spite of 
any faults of design. 
It measures 5G5 ft. 
east and west, by 385 
ft. north and south ; 
the exterior being 
nearly uniform in 
style — having been 
principally erected 
between the years 
1G99 and 1720— and 
is four bold storeys 
in height. Internally 
the mass is divided 
into two courts by a block of the earlier palace, which apparently 
it was intended to remove, though, were it rebuilt, its being retained 
would give more effect to the interior. 

It may also be added that there is no very striking instance of 
bad taste in the whole design ; still, with all this, it is far from being 
satisfactory. The material is brick and stucco — the latter not always , 
kept in repair. The window-dressings are coarse and vulgar. Pillars, 
where used, are merely ornaments stuck on high basements, and 
altogether, Imt for its mass, few would pause to inquire its desti- 
nation. There is not in any part, or in any of its details, evidence 
of that elegance or refinement which is the first and most indis- 
pensable requisite in the architecture of a king's palace ; a look 
of coarseness, almost of vulgarity, prevades the whole, and this is 
heightened by the appearance of neglect and dirt which is every- 
where observable. 

The palace at Schonbrunn, near Vienna, is supposed by the 
inhabitants of that city to make up for the defects of the Burg in 
architectural display. It was erected, in 1G!)6, from the designs of 
the same Fischer who built the San Carlo Borromeo (Woodcut No. 
224:), and meant to be a copy of Yersailles on a small scale. It is 
in plaster, of course : and having recently been adorned with a new 
coat of Avhite and yellow washes, and the Venetian blinds painted of 
the brightest green, its effect is as gay as the Government House of a: 

Chap. I. 



West Indian Colony, but by no means admirable as a specimen of 
Architectural Art. 

The Xew Palace built by Frederick the Great at Potsdam is 
superior to Schonbrunn as an architectural object, though something 
in the same style, and more to be admired for its dimensions than the 
art displayed in its design or adornment. 

Germany is singularly deficient, as might be expected, during the 
Renaissance period, in monumental trophies, such as triumphal arches, 
columns, &c. ; the only really important example being in Branden- 
burg Thor, at the end of the Linden, at Berlin. This very narrowly 
escaped being a really fine building, and, considering its age (it was 

Biandeuburg Gate, Berlin. From a I'botugraph. 

erected between 1784 and 1792), it is one of the very best reproduc- 
tions of Greek Art that had then been erected. It consists of two 
ranges of six Doric columns, joined in the direction of their depth 
by a screen of wall, which was necessary for the attachment of the 
leaves of the gates which fold back against them ; and above the 
colonnade is a quadriga, bearing a figure of Victory. 

It was not, perhaps, a very legitimate use of an Order to employ 
it where gates were necessary, which the columns only serve to mask, 
and the details of the Order are not such as to satisfy the critical eyes 
of the present day ; but there is a largeness and a grandeur about the 
whole design which in a great measm'e redeem these faults, and, 


taking it all in all, except the Arc cle I'Etoile at Paris, it woiild be 
difficult to find any modern triumphal gateway in Europe which could 
bear a fair comparison with this. 

At Berlin there are several buildings, such as the Arsenal, the 
Public Library, the University, &c., on which tourists have been 
content to lavish their commendations for want of something to 
vary the monotony of blame that runs through all that can be said 
of the German Architecture of this age. But none of these are 
beyond the level of the merest mediocrity, and there does not appear 
to be a single municipal or administrative building either at Vienna, 
Dresden, Munich, or any of the minor capitals, which is worthy of 
commemoration as an architectural object. 

During the three centuries of the Renaissance period, the German 
nobles built no city palaces to be compared in any way with those 
which adorn every town in Italy, nor one single country residence that 
can match in grandeur the country seats that are found in every county 
in England. From the great high-roads a barrack-like residence is 
occasionally discovered at the end of au avenue of stunted trees ; but 
it would be as great a mockery to call it an object of Architecture, as 
to dignify its entourage by calling it a park. 

Nothing, in fact, can well be more unsatisfactory and less interesting 
than the history of German Architecture during the Eenaissance period. 
It was not that they were afflicted l)y a hankering after Classicality, or 
any other form of Art ; or were seized with that mania for porticoes 
by Avhich so many of our public and private buildings have been dis- 
figured. It was simply indifference. After the last echoes of the 
Middle Ages had ceased to vibrate, men forgot the fine arts, and were 
content with any form of building which suited best the utilitarian 
purposes to which it was to be applied — and there the matter rested. 
They have now awakened from this trance, and are energetically bent 
on achieving success in architectural design. The inquiry how far 
tiie result has answered to the endeavour forms the subject of the 
succeeding chapter. 



Although it is scarcely probal^le that Germany could long have 
remained uninfluenced by the demand for a higher class of Art which 
spread throughout Europe after the termination of the great war which 
arose out of the catastrophe of the French Re^'olution, still great 
credit is due to King Louis of Bavaria as being the first to give 
practical effect to the call, and it was his example that stimulated the 
other States to exertion in the good cause. 

AVhen a young man, residing at Rome, as Crown Prince of 
Bavaria, Louis seems to have been struck with admiration for the 
great works he saw there, and from their contemplation to have 
imbibed a love of Art, which led him to resolve that when he came to 
the throne he would devote his energies to the restoration of German 
Art, and make his capital the central point of the great movement he 
was contemplating. Earnestly and perseveringly he worked towards 
this end during the whole of his reign ; and if the result has not been 
so satisfactory as might be wished, it has not been owing either to 
want of means or of encouragement on the part of the king, but to the 
system on which he proceeded, either from inclination, or from the 
character of the agents he was forced to employ in carrying out his 

The ruling idea of the Munich school of Architecture seems to have 
been to reproduce as nearly as possible in facsimile every building 
that was great or admirable in any clime, or at any previous period of 
history, wholly irrespective either of its use or of the locality it was 
destined to occupy in the new capital. Whatever the king had admired 
abroad his architects were ordered to reproduce at home. The conse- 
quence is that Munich is little more than an ill-arranged museum of 
dried specimens of foreign styles, frequently on a smaller scale, and 
generally in plaster, but reproducing with more or less fidelity build- 
ings of all ages and styles, though in nine cases out of ten designed for 
other purposes, and carried out in different materials. 

Had the king on the other hand, insisted that his architects should 


copy nothing, but must produce buildings original in design, and 
adapted to the chmate of Germany and the usages of the nineteenth 
century, he had it in his power to be the founder of a school of Art 
which would haye rendered his name Olustrious in all future ages. 
Probably such a conception was as much beyond the calibre of the 
royal patron's mind as it might haye exceeded the talent of his 
artists to execute it. Unfortunately, the reproduction of the Par- 
thenon or the Pitti Palace enabled flatterers to suggest that he had 
equalled Pericles or the Medici : and it was not thought necessary to 
hint that the printer, who multiplies the work of a great poet, need not 
necessarily be as great as the author of the first conception. To the 
architects it was Elysitun : — they had only to measure and repeat : 
authority sanctioned all blimders and reUeyed the artist from all 

The experiment was so noyel. at least in Germany, that it was at 
first hailed with enthusiasm : but, after this had subsided, the taste of 
the nation recoiled from the total want of thought displayed in the 
buildings at Munich, and their common sense reyolted at their want 
of adaptation to the circumstances in which they are placed. The 
result may eyentually proye fortimate for the deyelopment of the art 
of Arcliitectiu"e. The king placed before his countrymen specimens of 
all schools and all styles : and the contemplation of these may arouse 
the German mind to emulate their beauties instead of seryilely copying 
their details. But meanwhile the mind of the student is puzzled by 
the yariety of examples submitted for his admiration. Is it the 
TTalhalla or the Aue-Kirche he is to admire ? — ^the Konigsban or the 
Wittelbacher Palace ? To which end of the Ludwig Strasse is he to 
look for his model of an arch ? It may prove to be a useful school ; 
but it is now only a chaos, and no master's hand exists to guide the 
student's mind through the tortuous mazes of the unintellectual 
labyrinth in which he finds himself inyolyed.' It is difficult to imagine 
in what direction the tide may ultimately turn. If the German mind 
is capable of originahty in Art, it ought to be for good. They haye 
copied eyerything, and exhausted themselyes with imitations ad 
nauseam. It remains to be seen whether they can now create anything 
worthy of admiration. 


One of the earher churches undertaken by the late king was that 
of St. Ludwig, in the street of the same name. It was designed by 
Gartner, in the so-called Byzantine style. Externally the building 
is flat, and has little to recommend it, except some yery tastefully 
executed ornaments in stucco. The two towers that flank it are 
placed so far apart as scarcely to group with the rest of the design. 


and are iu themselves as lean and as nngraceful conceptions as any 
that have Wn perpetrated during this century. Internally, the 
freso^jes which cover its walls redeem its architectural defects, and are 
in fact the only excuse for the employment of a style so httle tractable 
as this is. If a law were in existence, either artistic or statutory, that 
frescoes shall only be used in conjunction with this style, no one of 

iirse would object to its employment. But it is difficult to discover 
auy reason why a building in any other style should not be so designed 
as to admit of painted decorations being introduced, so as to cover 
every foot of space from the floor to the roof ridge : and if it is so, the 
' loa that Byzantine churches only should be so decorated can only be 

nsidered as one of those self-imposed trammels so characteristic of 
the mcKiem school of Art. In fact, the art of forging fetters to be 
worn for display seems the great discovery of the Eevival ; and, 
though a knowledge of the means by which this is done is necessary 
to understand the arts of other countries also, its trammels are nowhere 
•=■ • prominent and so tmiversally adopted as in Mtmich. 

The Aue-Kirche, which was proceeding simtiltaneously with the 
Ludwig-Kirche, is another prominent example of the same system. It 
is in the late attenuated German Gothic style, without aisles or break 
< if any sort externally ; and, as an architectural design, very httle to 
be admired ; but its painted windows, hke St. Ludwig's frescoes, are 
supposed to redeem its other defects. It need hardly be added that, 
if the one is right the other must be wrong ; two diametrically opposed 
modes of decorating and building, to be used in the same age for the 
same ptirposes, can hardly both be equally good ; and in these two 
instances, at aU events, neither can be considered successful from an 
architecttiral point of view. 

Far more successful than either of these is the Basihca, erected 
under the superintendence of Ziebland : which, as a whole, is perhaps 
one of the most successful of modem imitative chtu'ches. Its dimen- 
sions are considerable, being 285 ft. in length, with a width of 
11 J: ft. : with the apse, narthex, &c., covering nearly 40,000 ft. Ex- 
ternally, the simphcity of the style has prevented any offence against 
taste l)eiug committed, and the portico is a simple arcaded porch, in 
- od proportion with the rest, and suggestive of the interior. Inter- 
nally the arrangement is that, on a smaller scale, of the Basihcas of 
the old St. Paul's, or St. Peter's at Rome : — a nave 50 ft. wide, and 
two side aisles, divided from each other by sixty-fotu" monoUthic 
colimms of grey marble, with white marble capitals, each of a different 
design, but all elegant, and aU appropriately modelled to bear the 
impost of an arch. The timbering of the open roof is perhaps too 
light, and has a somewhat flimsy appearance. 

Except the pillars and their capitals, there is scarcely an architec- 
tural moulding or ornament throughout the interior. Every part 

VOL. II. o 



Exterior View of the Basilica at Mtinich. From a Photograph. 

is painted, and depends on painting for its effect ; and though the 
result is satisfactory and beautiful, it might easily have been better. 
The old basilica buildings had an excuse for omitting architectiu-al 
details. They borrowed their pillars from older edifices, and had not 
art sufficient to do anything beyond building a plain rulible or 
brick wall over those pillars, and then trying to hide its poverty by 
gilding and paint. Though the canons of the Mimich school of Art 
would not allow anything but servile copying, even of defects, there 
can be no doubt but that an architectural archivolt from capital 
to capital, bolder string-courses, and mouldings round the windows, 
would not only have improved the interior immensely, but would have 
aided the effect of the painted decorations, and given value to the 
frescoes, which, from want of framing, lose to a considerable extent the 
effect they might otherwise have produced. As these things, however, 
did not exist in the original, it is not fair to blame the architect for 
not introducing them in the copy. The task proposed to him was to 
reproduce a basilica of the fifth century, and the standard by which it 
must be judged is how far, in the nineteenth centmy, he has repro- 
duced the arts of that period of decay and degradation. He could 
easily have improved on his model, but that was forbidden. Such 
being the case, it would be easy to point out other defects than those j 
above noted : but on the whole there is probably no modern chm-ch 
more 'satisfactory, or which, from the simpHcity of its arrangement 


and the completeness and elegance of its details, prodnces so solemn 
and so pleasing an effect. 

As above -pointed out,^ the architects who were entrusted with the 
rebuilding of St. Paul's outside the walls at Rome, did not consider 
themselves so bound by precedent as Ziebland and his abettors, though 
it would have been more excusable in their case than in his. They 
hid the timbering of their roof by a decorative ceiling, and introduced, 
a better spacing and more ornate arrangement of their clerestory than 
had existed in the old building ; but with all this they could not cure 
the defects inherent in this style of building churches. This class 
of Basilicas is necessarily poor and mean-looking externally, from the 
want of towers or domes, to break the sky-line and give variety to 
the plan ; while, internally, they are monotonotis and deficient in the 
perspective and light and shade which are the charm of almost all 
Gothic buildings, and which are also frequently found in the domical 
churches of the Renaissance period. 


Is the Walhalla a church ? If not, it would be difficult to say what 
it is. At all events, there seems to be no other class under which it 
can well be ranged. Externally, it has no merit but that of being an 
exact and Hteral copy of the Parthenon : but situated on a lone hill on 
the banks of the Danube, surrounded by the tall roofs of German vil- 
lages, and village spires, without one single object to suggest how it 
came there, it is the most singular piece of incongruity that Architec- 
ture ever perpetrated. ^Minerva, descending in Cheapeide to separate 
two quarrelling cabmen, could hardly be more out of place. Internally, 
too, the strange mixture of German sagas with Grecian myths, and the 
clothing of German traditions and German savages with the exquisite 
poetiy and grace of Grecian Art. produces an efiFect so utterly false as 
to l)e painful. 

The architect, no doubt, saved himself an enormous amount of 
trouble and of thought when he determined on reproducing literally 
a copy of the Parthenon : and he also escaped an immense amount of 
responsibility by adopting so celebrated a design in aU its integrity. 
It would have taken bim years of patient study to produce anything 
original at all approaching it in merit ; and we know that neither 
Klenze nor any modern architect could possibly design anything so 
perfect. Notwithstanding aU this, there is nothing in all the prin- 
ciples of the art so certain as that any carefully elaborated design 
would have l^een better than this, if appropriate to the situation and 
the climate, and if it expressed truthfully and clearly the objects for 

Vide ante, p. 90 '^Woodcut Xo. i5). 




Book V. 

AvMch the building was erected, as well as the feelings of the age in 
which it was executed.^ Though Klenze only did what most of liis 
brother architects are doing, it was treason against the noble art he 
professes : and his opportunities have been such that he is more to 
blame tlian most of his brethren for the present state of the art in tMs 

Fortunately the architectural arrangement of the interior has some 
novelty, combined Anth considerable appreciation of the elements of 
Grecian Art : and, putting aside all question as to its appropriateness 
and all reference to the meaning of its decora- 
tions, it reproduces not unworthily the effect of 
such a hall as might have existed in Grreece in 
the days of her prime. Had Klenze been content 
to reproduce the interior of the Parthenon with 
the same servility as he did the exterior, he 
would have lost a great opportunity of showing 
how easily the details of Greek Architecture lend 
themselves to modern purposes, when applied 
with a sufficient amount of care and thought. 
The hall, which is 50 ft. wide by 150 in length, 
is divided into three nearly square compartments 
by projecting piers. The light is pleasingly 
introduced in sufficient quantities tln'ough the 
roof, the sculpture well disposed, and altogether 
it may be considered as one of the most elegant 
as well as one of the richest halls which have 
been produced in this century. Its great and 
only worthy rival is St. George's Hall, Liverpool, — the two forming 
cmious illustrations of the adaptability of Grecian or Eoman Archi- 
tecture to our modern purposes. 

The Ruhmes-halle is a better attempt at applying the detail of 
pure Greek Architecture to modern monumental purposes. Here the 
statue is meant to be everything ; and the architecture not only 
allows it to be so, but aids the effect by tying, as it were, the statue 
to the liill-side, and suggesting a reason for its being there, while the 
building is kept so low and subordinate as rather to aid the colossal 
effect of the statue than to interfere with it. So far, therefore, as 
the Grecian principle of design was thought indispensable for the 
sculpture, the application of the Grecian Doric Order was not only 
legitimate but aj)propriate, and has been effected with more skill and 

231. Plan i)f WallialLi. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

' We williiiyly pay 5,000Z. for an , Spozalizia of Raphael for 501. ; yet the 
original work by Ilolmau Hunt, while [ picture is quite as ajspropriate to London 
we can buy an excellent copy of the | as to Milan. 

Chap. II. 



232. Ruhmes-balle, near Munich. From a Photograph. 

originality in this instance than is to be found in any other adaptation 
of it in Munich. 

Secular. — Munich, 

The Glyi^tothek is one of the earliest as it is one of the best of 
Klenze's Munich designs. As in the Ruhmes-halle, there is a certain 
amount of appropriateness in a Classical, windowless building being 
erected to contain ancient sculptures, or modern examples executed on 
the same jmnciples ; and both externally and internally this gallery 
is singularly well arranged for the purpose to which it was to be 

Glyptothek, Munich. From a Photograph. 



Book V. 

applied. Having been erected before any buildings existed in its 
neighlwni'hood, the architect does not. seem to have foreseen that it 
would appear low when brought into competition with taller edifices ; 

aud this defect is further increased 
l)y the size of the portico ; which, 
though elegant and well-designed 
in itself, is too large for the struc- 
ture to which it is attached. The 
Exhibition building, which forms 
the pendant to the Glyptothek, on 
the opposite side of the square, 
avoids these defects by being placed 
on a lofty stylobate, aud its portico 
approached by a handsome flight of 
steps. It thus gains considerably 
in dignity, though it is at the ex- 
pense of its older aud less preten- 
tious neighbour. 

Internally, the Glyptothek is 
better arranged and better lighted 
than any other sculpture-gallery in 
Europe ; ^ and although the orna- 
meuts on the roof may be open to 
the reproach of heaviness, they were 
the fruit of the first attempt to 
employ G-recian details in this man- 
ner, aud they are always elegant 
aud appropriate ; and with a better 
treatment as to colour and gilding, 
these defects might be made much 
less prominent. 

The Pinacothek, which was 
erected about the same time by the 
same architect, is in some respects 
superior to the Glyptothek. Both 
externally and internally the design 
is that of a picture-gallery, aud 
so clearly expressed that it is im- 

■ 234. PlanofPinasothek, Munich. -t ■, , • . i -i. r n : -^ 

Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. possiblc to mistake it tor anytliing 

else. The materials, too — brick with 
stone dressings — are left to tell their own tale, and add to the air of 

* The mode in -which the Eginetan 
marbles are liglited and seen here, goes 
far to obviate even an Englishman's 
regret that they did not fall to the lot of 

a nation which cannot erect a more 
suitable building for this purpose than 
the British Museum. 

Chap. II. 



truthfulness which pervades the whole building'. The worst feature 
of the design is the glazed arcade extending the whole length of the 
front on the principal storey. It is quite true that there are similar 
arcades in the Vatican, which it has been found necessary subsequently 
to glaze in order to protect their frescoes from the atmospheric in- 
fluences : but it is a singular instance of the Chinese habit of mind 
of Munich architects, that they should build a glazed arcade in imita- 
tion of those at Rome, Avliich have been so perverted from their original 
purpose. One fourth or one sixth of the window-space would have 
been more than sufficient for this corridor : and, architecturally, the 
back of the building is far more satisfactory than the front, though 
there are two storeys of commonplace windows under the Order that 
represents this pretentious arcade in the front. They, however, are 
useful, and consequently easily excused ; whereas the corridor is so 

Half Section, half Slevatlon of Pinacothek, Munich. Scale 50 fet to 1 inch. 

hot in summer, and so cold in winter, that it cannot be used as an 
approach to the galleries ; and at all seasons so exposed to atmospheric 
changes that it is impossible to preserve the frescoes with which its 
walls are adorned. In other respects the arrangement of the gallery 
is the most perfect yet devised for its purposes. Nothing can be finer 
than the range of great galleries down the centre for large pictures, of 
smaller cabinets on one side, and (if properly designed) of a corridor 
of approach on the other. It would nevertheless have been better if 
the entrance had been in the centre of the principal front, and the 
staircase projected out behind ; but the object evidently was to use 
the corridor, though that advantage has been lost in consequence of the 
way in which the design was carried out. 

Behind this gallery a new one has recently been erected, which 
certainly is original, inasmuch as it is uuhke any building that ever 


was erected before, and, it is to be hoped, ever will be erected here- 
after ; but it loses the advantage of even this merit by pretendmg to 
be in the Byzantine style, though adorned externally with frescoes the 
subjects and design of which most unmistakably belong to the present 
hour. But, in addition to these defects, the building is unpleasing 
in form, and so deficient in light and shade as to be positively dis- 

The Royal Palace at Munich is by no means so successful an attempt 
as these last-named buildings. The facade towards the Theater Platz 
is only a bad copy, on a reduced scale, of the Palazzo Pitti at Florence ; 
and as if it were not degradation enough to see its bold rustication 
repeated in bad stucco, the effect is further deteriorated by an increase 
in the relative size and frequency of the apertures, and the introduc- 
tion of a very lean range of pilasters in the upper storeys, and a conse- 
quent diminution of the projections as a compromise between the rusti- 
cations and the Order. The garden front has less pretension, and is 

m ^ 

236. Part of the Facade of the Public Library, lyiunich. 

consequently less open to criticism ; but at best it is scarcely superior 
to a stuccoed terrace in the Regent's Park, and executed in the same 
material, the only striking difference being that the loggia in the centre 
is painted in fresco internally, but, as there is no colour elsewhere, it 
has more the effect of a spot than a part of one great design. 

Till very recently the Ludwig Strasse was the pride of Munich. 
Gartner's great buildings, the Library, the University, the Blind 
School, Klenze's War Office, and the Palace of the Prince of Lichten- 
stein, were thought to be the ne plus ultra of Architecture. It is now 
admitted that, notwithstanding a certain elegance of detail, there is a 
painful monotony in the endless repetition of similar small openings 
in Gartner's buildings, and a flatness of surface not redeemed by a 
machicolated cornice ; for it is so small as to be absurd if intended to 
represent a defensive expedient, and not sufficient to afford shadow to 
such monotonous fagades. Nor is the dull monotony of the street much 
reUeved by the introduction of a Roman triumphal archway at one end^ 


far too small to close such a vista, or a shadowless repetition of the 
Loggia dei Lanzi at the oth^r. 

The good people of Munich themselves seem aware of the mistake 
that has been made in the design of the Ludwig Strasse, inasmuch as, 
since then, they have erected a new street, on nearly the same scale, at 
right angles to this, and extending from the Palace to the river. In- 
stead, however, of the grand simplicity of its rival, the Maximilian 
Strasse is of the gayest type of modern Gothic, if the term Gothic can 
be applied to a style that is like nothing that ever existed in the 
iliddle Ages ; but it is assumed to acquire this rank from having 
pointed openings, wooden niullions, and contorted mouldings, with an 
occasional trefoil or quatrefoil of the Wittelbacher Palace pattern. 
Now that it is finished it may fairly be pronounced to be the flimsiest 
and most unsatisfactory attempt that has yet been made to reproduce 
the style of a bygone age. The Railway Station, on the other hand, 
may be considered as a successful attempt to adapt the brick architec- 
ture of mediaeval Italy to modern uses. The general design is very 
pleasing, and the details elegant ; and if it were not that the style is 
assumed to prohibit cornices and copings, the whole might be con- 
sidered a success ; but it wants eyebrows, and there is a weakness 
arising from want of shadow which reduces it to a very low grade in 
the scale of architectural effects. 

On the whole, the survey of the Revival of Architecture, as seen at 
Munich, from the accession of Ludwig I. to the present day, is by no 
means encouraging. Immense sums have been lavished with the very 
best and highest motives — men of undoubted talent have been em- 
l)loyed, not only as architects, but as sculptors and painters, to assist 
in completing what the architect designed ; but with aU tliis, not one 
perfectly satisfactory building has been produced, and the general 
result may be considered as an acknowledged failure, inasmuch as 
the principles on which the school of Ludwig was based Avere entirely 
ignored h\ that of Maximilian, and the artists of the present day are 
already ashamed, and ought to be, of what was done ten or twenty 
years ago. It is not clear whether it is the fault of the artists or their 
employers, but both are hampered and weighed down by the false idea 
that mere memory can ever supply the place of thought in the creation 
or production of works of Art. 


Although the city of Berlin has not been remodelled to anything 
like the same extent as Munich, and the architectural movement there 
has not been heralded to the world with the same amount of self- 
laudation which the inhabitants of the southern capital have indulged 
in, still the northern people seem on the whole to have been fully as 



Book V. 

successful, if not more so, in the architects that have been employed on 
their great buildings. The revival also seems to be more real, and 
to have descended deeper, inasmuch as many of the modern houses in 
Berlin are models of elegance and good taste, while the private archi- 
tecture of Munich is commonplace to a degree astonishing in a city of 
such pretensions. 

The Prussians, however, are not a chm'ch-building race : and they 
are very far from being successful in the few attempts they have made. 
One of the most prominent examples in Berlin is the Werder-Kirche 

Nicbolui-Kiixlie, I'otsdani. From a I'liotdgiMph. 

near the Palace, a brick building in the so-called Gothic style, but both 
internally and externally as little to be admired as any structure of its 
class and age. It must, however, be mentioned that Schinkel, who 
designed it, was essentially a Classical architect, and understood or 
admired the Gothic' style about as much as our Sir Christopher Wren. 
His own original design for tliis church was Classic, and a far more 
beautiful and appropriate composition than the one which the then 
nascent sentimentalism of the Eomantic school forced ujjon him. This 


is the more to be regretted for his sake, as his greatest executed design 
in his favourite style is the Nicholai Church at Potsdam, and, whether 
from his fault, or that of those ^Yho employed him, cannot be considered 
successful as an architectural composition. 

Externally the church consists of a nearly cubical block 120 ft. 
square in plan, l)y 87 in height, with a Corinthian portico attached to 
one side, far too small for its position, and with a great dome placed 
oil the top, as much too large for the other proportions of the church. 
Internally the proportions are even worse, for it is practically a room 
105 ft. square, and 1G2 in height I — a blunder which all the elegances 
of detail, which Schinkel knew so well how to employ, can neither 
render tolerable nor even palliate in any degree. The truth seems to 
he that the Germans have had very httle experience in church-building 
of late years, and have no settled canons to guide them, while it re- 
(|uires a man of no small genius or experience to foresee what the exact 
effect of his building will be when executed, though on the drawing- 
l)oard it may seem to fulfil all the conditions of the problem.^ 

Although Berhn cannot boast of any church so beautiful as 
Ziebland's basilica, or so complete a forgery as the "Walhalla, her 
3Iuseum is a more perfect and more splendid building than any of the 
cognate examples at Munich. The portico consists of eighteen Ionic 
columns between two antEe, extending in width to 275 ft., and in 
height, from the ground to the top of the cornice, it measures (U ft. 
It has also the very unusual advantage of having no windows in its 
shade, but an open recessed staircase in the centre, sufficient to give 
meaning to the whole ; and now that the internal wall is painted 
with frescoes — though these in themselves are by no means com- 
mendal)le — it has more meaning and fewer solecisms than any other 
portico of the same extent which has been erected in modern Europe. 
The great defect is, perhaps, that it is not high enough for its 
situation. The space before it is large, and some of the buildings 
around it are high, while the square block which conceals the dome 
in the centre is not sufficiently important to give the requisite height 
and dignity to the building. It is also another proof of the extreme 
difficulty of adapting purely Classical Architecture to modern pur- 
poses, that most of the beauty and all the fitness of this beautiful 
portico disappear except when seen directly in front. The moment 
you view it in connection with the flanks, you perceive that it is only 
a mask to a very commonplace building, with three storeys of rather 
mean windows inserted in a stuccoed wall ! 

' If tlie good people in Berlin carry out 
the rebuilding of tlieir cathedral accord-, 
ing to the design which is understood to 
have been accepted for tliat purpose, the 
result will be something very dreadful 

indeed. It has all the faults of propor- 
tion of this church, but designed with a 
strangeness and inelegance of rietail which 
is very remarkable. 



Book V. 

It is difficult to understand why Scliinkel did not light his upper 
storey, containing the picture galleries, from the roof. All modern 

experience goes to 
prove that the pic- 
tures would have 
gained by this ar- 
rangement, and by it 
the exterior of the 
building would cer- 
tainly have been 
brouo'ht much more 
in harmony with its 

Internally the 
square form of the 
bmlding admitted of 
very little oppor- 
tunity for architec- 
tural display ; and 
the mode in which 
the picture-gallery is 
crowded with screens 
takes it wholly out 
of the category of 
architectural de- 
signs, but the whole 
is in good taste, and 
the central hall with 
its dome is a very 
noble and well-pro- 
portioned apartment, 
in perfect harmony 
with the portico, 
though, like it, over- 
powering the more 
utilitarian part of 
the building. 

Immediately in 
rear of this Museum 
another has been re- 
cently erected by 
Stiller, which, though 
making Httle or no 
pretensions to architectural display outside, is a far more sa.tisfactory 
design as a whole than its more ambitious predecessor. In no part is 

Plan of tbe Museums tit Berlin. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Chap. II. 



there any attempt to make it appear anything but what it really is — a 
three-storeyed building, containing galleries for the accommodation of 
works of art ; but the whole is carried out with so much judgment, and 
the details are so elegant, that, with infinitely more convenience and 
probably less than half the relative cost, it is as pleasing to look upon 
as Schinkel's great creation. Its principal merit, however, consists 
in its internal arrangement. The great staircase — now that its fres- 
coes and decorations are completed — is probably unmatched by any 
similar apartment in any building or palace in Europe, either for 
dimensions or design. It leads to a series of apartments on each 
of the three floors, designed with reference to the collection it was 
destined to contain, and the frescoes which adorn each room are 
LMjually in accordance with its object. In fact, no modern palace, 
much less any modern museum, displays the same amount of thought, 

View of the Museum, Berlin. From Schinkel's own det^igu. 

or the same happy harmony of artistic design with utilitarian pur- 
pose, as this building does. AVithout the introduction of a single 
detail that is not pleasing to contemplate, or which does not add to 
the beauty of the whole, every part is decorated to the utmost extent 
consistent with the purposes of the Museum, and every ornament is 
appropriate to the place where it is found. 

Next to that of the Museum, Schinkel's best design in Berlin is the 
Theatre in the Gens-d'armes Platz (Woodcut No. 225), which will be 
noticed further in the chapter on Theatres. 

Schinkel can hardly be said to have been equally successful in 
the fa§ade he added to the old contorted design of the Public Library 
under the Linden. It is simple and well-proportioned, and its details 
elegant and appropriate ; but the effect is monotonous and cold, and 
the little attic windows under the coruice lead one to suspect a sham 
which does not exist ; but its worst defect is, that its extreme severity 


is neither in accordance with its purposes, nor in harmony with the 
older building to which, in spite of the repudiation of its style, it is 
unfortunately attached. 

The Guard-house on the opposite side of the street has been much 
and deservedly admired. It is an elegant, and, as far as the Classical 
style would admit, an appropriate building for its purpose — much 
more so than that erected by the same architect for the same purpose 
at Dresden. There is a massive simplicity about the Berlin example 
which speaks of resistance and security ; at Dresden, the building, 
though pleasing both in proportions and detail, might be a casino, a 
villa, or anything. It bears no mark of its destination on its face. 

In all these, as in almost all his Avorks, Schinkel adhered literally 
to the Eevived Classical or Gothic styles as he understood them ; the 
only important occasion on which he departed from those principles 
and attempted originality being in the design for the Bauschule, or 
Building Academy, situated near the Palace at Berlin. The design of 
this edifice is extremely simple. It is exactly s(juare in plan, mea- 
suring 150 ft. each way, and is 70 ft. in height throughout. The 
lower storey is devoted to shops ; the two next to the purposes of the 
institution ; and above this is an attic in the roof, which latter is not, 
however, seen externally, as it slopes backwards to a courtyard in the 
centre. The ornamentation depends wholly on the construction, con- 
sisting only of piers between the windows, string-courses marking 
the floors, a 'slight cornice, and the dressings of the windows and doors. 
All of these are elegant, and so far nothing can be more truthful or 
appropriate, the whole being of l)rick, which is visible everywhere. 
Notwithstanding all this, the Bauschule cannot be considered as 
entirely successful, in consequence of its architect not taking suffi- 
ciently into consideration the nature of the material he was about to 
emjDloy in deciding on its general characteristics. Its simple outline 
would have been admirably suited to a Florentine or Roman palace 
built of large blocks of stone, or to a granite edifice anywhere ; but 
. it was a mistake to adopt so severe an outhne in an edifice to be 
constructed of such small materials as bricks. Had Schinkel brought 
forward the angles of his building and made them more solid in 
appearance, he would have improved it to a great extent. This would 
have been easy, as much less window space is required at the angles, 
where the rooms can be lighted from two sides, while the accentuation 
of what is now the weakest part would have given the building that 
monumental character which elsewhere is obtained from massiveness 
of material. This would also have given vertically that light and 
shade which it is almost impossible to obtain from horizontal pro- 
jections unless stone or wood is employed. Though very nearly suc- 
cessful, this design fails in being quite so, because, though its details 
are perfectly appropriate to the materials in which it is erected, its 

Chap. II. 



i'art <j1 the I'iiijaaL- 

iuK School at Berlin. From Schinkel. 

outline and general character are at variance with these, and belong- 
to another class ; had both been in accordance, it would have been 
Schinkel's best performance, and one of the most satisfactory structures 
in Berlin. Even as it is, it marks an epoch in the art, when a man 
in Schinkel's position dared to erect anything so original and so free 
from Classical or Gothic feeling as this design certainly is. 

Though these buildings are not, it must be confessed, faultless, 
they have all a certain quality of grandeur and purpose about them 
which renders them pleasing and worthy of attention ; but whether it 
arises from individual caprice or a decadence of taste, some of the 
more recent erections of Berlin are far from being so satisfactory. The 
private residence of the late King, under the Linden, now occupied by 
the Crown Prince and our Princess Royal, is, though of great pre- 
tence, still a very poor design. A low basement, meant only for 
offices, supports a portico of four Corinthian columns, covering two 
storeys of windows, and these are repeated as pilasters all round the 


building. Over this is a very tall attic, overloaded with ornament^ 
which is far from lacing in good taste. The whole looks more like an 
English country-house of the early Georgian era than anything that 
ought to be erected in Berlin at the present day. 

The new Exchange, too, is very much of the same character. A 
commonplace basement, rusticated on one side, and with a range of 
diminutive Doric columns on the other, supports a considerable 
number of Corinthian pillars on two faces, some detached, some stuck to 
the walls, some flattened into pilasters. There are two storeys of 
windows under these pillars, and an attic above. The whole will 
be one of the most expensive and elaborately-ornamented buildings in 
the city, but the amount of thought displayed is very small indeed, 
and its design very commonplace and questionable. 

If the Berhn architects, after so fair a start, are to sink to such 
mediocrity, it will be very sad indeed. But the state of private Archi- 
tecture gives great encouragement to the idea that better things may 
be looked for. In no city of Europe has the elegance of Classical Art 
been so successfully applied to domestic edifices. In the new quarters 
of the city and the suburbs, especially about the Thiergarten and the 
Anhalt Gate, there are some specimens which it is really a pleasure 
to look upon. Seldom do we find pillars or pilasters running through 
two storeys, and still more rarely do we find a cornice anywhere but 
at the top of a building, which, of course, is the only place where it 
ought to be. The string courses are kept subordinate, but always 
mark the floors ; and each storey is a complete design in itself. When 
ornament is apphed, it is to the window-dressings or constructive 
features, and generally elegant and in good taste, so that the result of 
the whole is more satisfactory than any to be found elsewhere, not 
even excepting Paris. All that is wanted is a little more perseverance 
in the same course, that certain details may be more thoroughly 
naturahsed, and the whole style settle into that completeness which 
would prevent the probability of future aberration. 

Whether this will be the case or not is rather problematical. 
Already we find early French Kenaissance ornaments and high roofs 
peeping through occasionally ; and fashion, it is to be feared, may, as 
it generally does, prove too strong for common sense to be able to resist. 
It will be very sad indeed should this prove to be the case ; for Monu- 
mental Architecture, to be satisfactory, must be in accordance with, 
and based upon. Domestic Art, if it is to be true and to speak to our 
feelings. Certainly there is no city in modern Europe where the 
architects have shown such aptitude in combining all that is elegant 
in the Classical styles with the wants and requirements of modern 
habits ; and if they now forsake the true path, it is difficult to say 
where we are to look for any indications of hope or promise for the 

Chap. II. 



Group of House.s facing the Tbiergarten, Berlin. By Ilitzig. 


■ The best class of the new houses at BerHn are of the type repre- 
'sented in Woodcut No. 241, where the windows are left to tell their 
own story, with only a slight rustication at the base of the building, 
aud a cornice at the top ; to these are added an occasional verandah or 
balcony, but which is neither a part of the construction, nor interferes 
in aiiT way with the main lines of the design. With these simple 


*» VOL. II. 

Palace of Count Pourtale.s, B ilin. 



House at Dantzig. From Hitzig, ' Au?gefuhrte Bauwerke.' 

elements numerous very elegant and imposing mansions have been 
erected of late years — some much richer than this example, some few 
plainer ; but all exhiliiting the same strict adherence to truth, and the 
same absence of affectation. 

Occasionally, as in the recently erected house of Count Pourtales, 
there is, perhaps, too evident an attempt to reproduce Grecian details 
in more severity than is quite compatible with modern Domestic 
Architectm'e ; 1)ut when the whole is so elegant as this example, and 
Avhen no really essential part of the design is sacrificed to produce tliis 
effect, the introduction of these Classic details is pardonable. In the 
museum and studio which Klenze built for Count Racyzinski, the 
principles of Tlreek Art are carried far beyond what are found in 


this i^alace — to such an extent, indeed, is Grrecian feeling' carried 
there, as to amount to affectation ; Ixit this is a rare circumstance 
at BerUn. 

Another gradation of this style is illustrated in Woodcut Xo. 243, 
which, though situated at Dantzig, is by a BerUn architect ; and, 
though ornamented with Classical details, approaches more nearly to 
^^lediffival feeling. This tendency is, in fact, the rock on which the 
style will probably be shipwrecked. Already the Romantic School in 
(lermany is obtaining immense influence ; and although all the attempts 
they have hitherto made in Gothic Architecture have proved utter 
failures, still the architects are working hard, and, with the examples 
of what has been done in France and England before their eyes, may 
easily produce as good forgeries as we have done — if they irisj. it. Let 
us hope they may be saved this last and lowest stage of architectural 


Only two buildings of any importance have been erected at Dresden 
of late years, besides Schinkel's Guard-house mentioned above. The 
first of these is the new theatre ; the other the new picture gallery ; 
both by Semper. 

The arrangeriient of the picture gallery is copied from that of the 
Pinacothek at Munich, with only such changes as the necessities of the 
situation rendered necessary. The front towards the Zwirner has 
much the same galleried arrangement ; but the openings are smaller, 
the .piers more solid, and anything more in accordance with common 
sense would have been strangely out of place in a fa§ade forming as 
this does the fourth side of the Zwirner Court. On the front toAvards 
the river a third tier of galleries has been erected, lighted from the 
roof, which gives— externally — a considerable degree of dignity and 
sohdity to the principal storey ; and the centre is an elegant and an 
appropriate piece of design, though a Httle wanting in the dignity its 
situation seems to demand. 

Little or nothing has been done in Dresden in Private or Domestic 
Architecture that is at all worthy of admiration. The new buildings 
are as commonplace as the old, any imposing effect they may possess 
arising from their dimensions alone ; while occasional copies of Vene- 
tian palaces, and attempts in the style which modern German archi- 
tects call Gothic, betray an unsettled state of public oijinion in this 
matter, and a want of purpose which can only lead to confusion and 
to bad taste. 


The public buildings of Vienna hardly show that its inhabitants 
have profited by the movement taking place in other parts of 

P 2 


Germany, or care more for the display of architectural design than 
their forefathers did at any period since the beginning of the six- 
teenth century. 

It is true that in a fit of enthusiasm, arising from the acquisition 
of the statue of Theseus by Canova, they, too, determined on having a 
Walhalla in which to enshrine their pm-chase, and forthwith com- 
menced the erection of a copy of the so-called Temple of Theseus at 
Athens. Had they paused to investigate the matter a Uttle, it would 
probably have been found that the temple they were copying was 
really dedicated to Mars, and that the shrine of their new god was of 
a different shape and style altogether. But the Viennese are not anti- 
quaries, so this did not matter. Had they been architects, they would 
have known that to be seen to advantage the Grecian Doric Order 
must be placed on a height where it can be looked up to ; and the 
Grecians, in consequence, always chose elevated sites for their temples. 
There are no hills in Vienna suited for this purpose ; but there are 
some grand old bastions which would have formed the noblest terraces 
for such a building, had the idea suggested itself to them. The next 
best place was the crest of the glacis, where it could have been 
approached, though in a far less degree, on an ascending plane : but 
even this advantage was neglected, and they finally detennined on 
erecting it at the bottom of the ditch ! 

"When the Edinburgh people placed their Doric institution at the 
foot of the mound, it was as great a mistake as they well could make ; 
but a Doric peristylar temple at the bottom of the ditch of a fortress 
smpasses everything that has yet been done in the way of architec- 
tural bathos. 

We may hope there has been an improvement in taste and judg- 
ment since then, as they have recently erected on the glacis a Gothic 
church, which is reaUy ' a very beautiful building. As will be seen 
from the plan, it is practically a copy of Cologne Cathedral on a 
reduced scale, being 295 ft. in length externally, with a nave 94 ft. 
wide internally : and inside the transept it is 160 ft. from wall to 
wall : so it is really a first-class church, as far as dimensions go. Its 
details are aU designed with elegance, and executed with care ; so that, 
altogether, it probably is the best modern reproduction of the style of 
Cologne Cathedral. The poetry and abandon of the older examples is, 
of course, wanting ; but after the completion of one or two such build- 
ings we shall be saved from the monstrosities of that strange style 
which the Germans have recently been in the habit of assuming was 
Gothic : 

A still larger church has recently been erected as the Cathedral oi 
Linz. It is 400 ft. long internally, and the transept is 188 ft. from 
wall to wall. It has only one western tower instead of two, 
and is neither so rich in ornament nor so complete in its details 

Chap. II. 



as the Viennese example. Both, however, are very grand churches, 
and probably indicate that the future style of ecclesiastical edifices in 
Austria will — as with us — be in the style of the Middle Ages. If 
this should be the case, of 
coui'se we can look for nothing 
from that country but repro- 
ductions of bygone designs. In 
a country so intensely CathoHc 
as Austria, this will at least be 
appropriate, and the adoption 
of this system there need be 
lamented only in an artistic 
point of view ; if we may judge 
from the very little they have 
done in past ages, this cannot 
be a subject of deep regret to 
the architectural world. 

The most striking, as well 
as the most extensive, new build- 
ing in or about Vienna, is the 
new Imperial Arsenal ; and this 
is all the more creditable, inas- 
much as this class of design is 
generally handed over to the 
engineer, and he is left to pro- 
vide as best he can for the 

utiUtarian exigencies of the case, wath little, if any, reference to the 
artistic effect. In this instance, though the whole is of brick, with 
only the slightest possible admixtm-e of stone-dressing in the more 
ornamental parts, the different blocks have been so arranged that their 
purpose is easily understood, and in order that they may group pleas- 
ingly with those around it. 

It is an immense square of building, measuring about 650 ft. in 
front by nearly 2000 ft. in depth. At each angle is a great casemated 
barrack. Betw-een these the longer sides are occupied by blocks of 
storehouses. Opposite the entrance is the chapel, and in the centre are 
the cannon foundry and small-arms workshops. 

Besides these, fronting the entrance, is the armomy — by far the 
most ornate portion of the group, and a veiy pleasing specimen of the 
style of brick architecture adopted by the Italians in the Middle Ages. 
It may be objected that the style is too ornate, the parts too small and 
florid for the purpose to which they are here applied ; and it is true 
that a more severe and massive style would have been more appro- 
priate to the purpose — but as it is in a courtyard, and not seen from 
the outside, this objection is hardly tenable, the effect of the whole 

Plan of the Votif-Kirche on tb- glacis at Vienna. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 



Book V. 

being so pleasing that we must overlook such slight failings in this 
inartistic conntrj. 

At Pesth a Jewish synagogue has just been completed in the same 
style, and by the same architect — L. Forster ; which is the most 
striking Ijuilding in that city. There is an affectation of Orientalism 
in the balloon-like cupolas — certainly not Oriental— which crown the 
towers and angles, and, being gilt, detract considerably from the 
otherwise sober appearance of the structure. Notwithstanding this, 
nothing can well l)e more elegant than the mode in which the various 

View of the Sj'iiagogue at Pestb. 

bands of different coloured bricks are disposed, and the way in which 
they bind the various parts of the design together. The stone-work 
of the windows is also more than usually well designed, and in 
perfect harmony with the details of the brick edifice to which they 
belong. Greatness and grandeur are of course unattainable in this 
style and with this material, but the mode in wliich it is used at the 
Munich and other railway stations in Germany, with the taste dis- 
played in this Synagogue, and in the Arsenal at Vienna, shows that a 


very c(M]siderable amount of elegance can be attained by the use of 
difPereiit coloured bricks with a slight admixture of stone and of terra- 
cotta ornaments ; and there is no reason why these materials should 
not be emi)loyed with the most modern as well as with the Medieval 

Although there are, besides this, some very large and important 
buildings in Pesth, and some very picturesfjuely situated ones in 
Buda, there are none which can pretend to much architectural beauty. 
They are all according to the usual recipe — pilasters and plaster, 
adorned with white or yellow wash, relieved by green Venetian bhnds. 
At Vienna another element is introduced, very destructive of archi- 
tectural effect, in the double windows which it is found necessary 
to employ everywhere. The outer ones, in consequence, being flush 
with the wall, there is no apparent depth of reveal to the windows, 
and the whole is as flat and unmeaning as it well can be. When we 
add to tliis that all the waHs are stuccoed and all the more delicate 
mouldings choked l)y repeated coats of whitewash, it is easy to under- 
stand how vain it would be to look for any very pleasing examples of 
Architectural Art among the modern houses of Vienna or its neigh- 

The great monastic establishments which still exist iu various parts 
of the Austrian dominions would have afforded numberless opportuni- 
ties for Architectural display among a more artistic people ; but none 
of them are remarkable for any evidence of taste in this direction. 
One of the oldest and most celebrated is Klosterneuberg, near Vienna. 
In tile year 1730, the Emperor Charles VI. commenced the present 
buildings on a scale of such magnificence that they are still incomplete ; 
but the parts that have been finished show so little real artistic feeling 
that this is hardly a subject of regret. 

The most splendid of these establishments is, perhaps, the great 
Convent of ]\Iolk. It stands on a rock overhanging the Danube, in a 
situation so grand and so picturesque that it is difficult to understand 
an architect not being inspired by it to do something beautiful. Not- 
withstanding this, it would not be easy to point out any building in 
Euroi")e of the same pretensions which possesses so little poetry of 
design as this. Its flanks externally are not unlike those of the Escu- 
rial — plain, barrack-like buildings of great extent, pierced with num- 
berless windows, but without any ornament. The church occupies the 
same relative position as that of the Escurial, with a dome in the 
centre and two western towers ; and these are crowned by the con- 
torted bul1)ous spires so prevalent throughout the Austrian dominions. 

Several of the smaller establishments, perched on rocks, or nestling 
in secluded valleys, are pictures(]ue or pleasing, in spite of the style 
in which they are built. But not one, so far as is known, is worthy of 
admiration as an oliject of Art. 



Book V. 

What we really miss most in reviewing the Architectural history 
of Germany are the village chnrches, and the country seats of the 
noblemen or squires, which form the bulk and the charm of the Archi- 
tectural objects of this country. Even in the Middle 
Ages the village churches of Germany were little 
more than plain halls, without aisles or clerestory — 
polygonal at one end, with 
a few tall, misshapen win- 
dows at the side, and a rude 
wooden roof over all. The 
single spire, which was in- 
tended to be their external 
ornament, was generally 
placed on a square tower 
without buttresses or break, 
and the transition between 
the two parts was seldom 
even broken by battlements 
or pinnacles. After the Re- 
formation, as may be easily 
understood, it was worse. 
The body of the church was 
little better than a barn ; 
the tower was, if possible, 
even plainer ; and its spire, 
always in Austria and generally elsewhere, of the curious bulbous 
character which is even now so common ; ^ their only merit being 
that no two spires are like one another ; but though the strange 
unmeaning vagaries in which the architects have indulged may be 
creditable to their ingenuity, they are by no means so to their taste. 

The country seats are even more objectionable. With the fewest 
possible exceptions, the feudal castles are deserted and in ruins, and 
there is nothing to replace them. A man may travel from the Baltic 
to the Adriatic without seeing a single gentleman's seat or countiy- 
house worthy of the name. • If a nobleman has a mansion where he 
can reside on his lands, it is only like a large public building at the 
end of a village, with an avenue of well-clipped limes leading from 
the front door to the public road, and perhaps an acre or two of 
ground laid out as a formal flower-garden. The most beautiful sites 
in the loveliest scenery are utterly neglected. The conviction is 
everywhere forced upon us that the Germans as a people have none 
of that real appreciation of the beauties of nature which in this 

246. German Spire at Prague. 

247. German Spire at 

* Woodcuts 236 and 237 are selected as favourable specimeus of these spires — if 
they may be so called. 


country goes so far to redeem our want of kuowledj^'e, or of true feeling 
for Art in general. The country has no charms for them ; and it is 
very (luestionable whether Art can be true or deep-felt without a love 
of Nature. At all events, in so far at least as Architecture is con- 
cerned, it seems in Germany to be an exotic forced into a transitory 
bloom in the hot-beds of the cities, but having no real existence 
beyond their walls — a matter of education or of fashion, but not a 
necessity, or a thing in which the people really take a deep or heart- 
felt interest, 


Although Switzerland is not in reahty a part of Germany, it seems 
hardly worth while to devote a separate chapter to a country which, 
during the three hundred years over which this history extends, has 
only erected one building of sufficient importance to be mentioned. 
Being principally Protestant, and generally poor, it is hardly to be 
expected that any new or important churches would be found ; and the 
cities are, as a general rule, hardly important enough to indulge in 
any great display in their mimicipal buildings. 

Recently, however, they have erected a Federal Palace at Berne, 
which is one of the best modern specimens of the Florentine style 
that has yet been attempted. The centre especially is bold and 
well designed ; and with its deep balcony, and the range of open 
arches under the bold cornice, it has a dignity worthy of the style, 
and very superior to anything of the same class at Munich or else- 
where. The wings are hardly equal to the dignity of the centre. So 
bold a cornice suggests and requires something more important than 
a plain tiled roof ; and the centre, — at least over the great hall at the 
end, — ought to have had as bold a parapet as the central division of 
the front. These, however, are minor defects ; and, taken as a whole, 
it is one of the most successful, as it is, for its situation and purposes, 
one of the most appropriate buildings qf the present day, and forms a 
singular and instructive contrast with the Parliament Houses which 
we were erecting simultaneously, and for the same identical purposes. 

Putting on one side, for the present, the question whether the 
Swiss building is not too literal a transcript of the Florentine style, 
a comparison of the two buildings fairly raises the question, which 
of these two styles — assuming we must adopt one of them — would be 
most suitable for the situation at Westminster. 

Taking the outline of Barry's river fayade ("Woodcut No. 217) as a 
basis for comparison, let us suppose a block like the centre of the 
Berne^ie Federal Palace placed at either end, w^here the Speaker's and 
Black Rod's houses now stand ; between these a central block, more 
ornate, Ijut of the same height as the wings, and occupying the same 



Book V. 

extent of groiiud as the centre division of the Parliament Honses ; 
and then these joined by cnrtains four storeys in height, Uke those at 
Berne, but more ornamental in character, which their being recessed 
would render quite admissible. Which would have been the nobler 
building, or the best suited to our purposes ? 

The first answer that occurs is, that though so much larger in 
bulk, owing to the increased height, the Florentine building would 
have been very much cheaper — probably to the extent of one half, in so 
far at least as the architectural decorations of some parts are concerned. 

The next reply would be, that it is more suited to our climate, 
having no deep undercuttings to be choked up with soot, and no 
delicate mouldings to be eaten away by damp and frost. 

Federal Palace at Berne. From a Photograph. 

The Bernese style would have combined perfectly with towers of 
any height, or domes of any extent, witliout there being any danger 
of their crushing the building to which they were attached, or 
destroying its effect in any way. 

It would have produced a far more massive and a manlier building, 
and therefore more appropriate to its purposes, than one carried out 
in the elaborately elegant, but far too delicate, style employed in the 
Westminster design. 

Internally it would have demanded painting and sculpture, not of 
the Mediaeval type, but of the highest class the art of the day could 
furnish ; while the furniture and decorations might all have been of 
the most modern and most elegant patterns. 


In additiou to these aclvantajics tlie Hall and the Abbey would have 
heen left in the repose of truth and beauty, not, as they now are, in 
(•onipetition with a modern rival, imitating their ornamentation, but 
far surpassing them in richness of display. 

A few years hence, few probably will dispute that a simpler, a 
more massive, and more modern style would have been far better 
suited for our Parliament Houses than the one adopted. AVhether it 
ought to be the one the Swiss liave employed is much more doubtful. 
It seems, however, clear that tliey are nearer the truth than ourselves : 
and with some modifications their style might be so adapted as to 
make it approach more nearly to what is really right and truthful 
than anything which we have yet done in modern times. Of course 
the right thing to do would be to forget both the Medici and the 
Tudors, except in so far as Ave can learn anything from the new forms 
they introduced, or the new principles they elaborated, and, having 
done this, to think of the nineteenth century only and its require- 
ments. We are still far from this ; but thei-e are signs that we are 
advancing in that direction. When once fairly embarked on this 
path, it wih not be difficult to produce buildings which, with as much 
grandeur of outline, shall be far more beautiful than tlie Berne 
example, and, with equal beauty of detail, will be equally more 
majestic than our Houses of Parliament. 




[If we thoroughly grasp the idea that the style of architectural design 
belonging by natural law to the current period of modern European civilisa- 
tion is the Italian Renaissance in the widest ap[»lication of the term, it 
would seem to follow clearly enough tliat the highly developed intelligence 
of the German nivtion, although by no means disinclined to accept any 
favonraljle opportunity for enjoying the intellectual amusement of 
" reviving " the obsolete anti(|ue, must inevitably revert to the standard 
system in the end. Accordingly, the revival of the academical Hellenic 
which has been described in the foregoing pages may no doubt be 
regarded as most excellent and learned histrionics ; and we may also 
award a certain amount of praise to the efforts subsequently made in 
other quarters of the land to produce an imitation — equally histrionic 
although not learned — of the fashionable Neo-Gothic work of England ; 
but what we should expect to see without fail would be a return to the 
national version of the Italian ; or rather, we should suppose that this 
German-ItaUan in its ordinary forms would be found to have con- 
tinuously governed the every-day design of the period, and that the 
exhaustion of the experiments of revival would simply leave the proper 
mode of the times to proceed with its development without obstruction. 
And such has been the case. Up to the date of the war between 
Germany and France in 1S7(>, the German architects may be said to 
have followed the lead of Paris contentedly. Not that the German- 
Italian was the French- Italian: but the two were of the same type, and 
the one a guide for the other. The inherent finesse of the GaUic Latin 
could scarcely be emulated by the Teuton, and there lay the principal 
difference. The extraordinary impulse which was communicated to 
Parisian architecture by the magniticent building policy of the Second 
Empire was scarcely felt in Germany. Neither does it appear that the 
acknowledged philosophical power of the Germans manifested itself in 
their architectural work in any JDhase of more thoughtful design : the 
typical Frenchman of any culture is an artist born rather than made, 
while the typical German, like the Englishman, is perhaps too frequently 
neither the one nor the other. But, be all this as it may, the result of 


the war certainly was to confer npon the nnited German nation a new 
sense of leadership ; and the effect of this has naturally made its 
;i])pearance, amongst other things, in architecture. In two words, German 
iitistic building may be said to have become much more powerful and 
much more elegant. The increase of power may be simply traced to an 
advanced sense of importance; the improvement in elegance is still to 
Ue attributed to the influence of France. If before the war France had 
been dependent upon Germany for guidance in art, it is perhaps not too 
iiuTch to suppose that the indignant sense of defeat would have led her 
architects to repudiate the accustomed guidance at whatever sacrifice ; 
but there was no such difficulty on the other side. It had been the 
liabit to keep an eye on French work for the sake of artistic profit, and 
obviously there was no reason why that course should not be continued ; 
the feeling of martyrdom was with " our friends the enemy." The 
German edition of the Parisian Architecture has consequently produced 
in the great towns during the last twenty years a profusion of very 
elegant and stately edifices, most notably in Vienna and Berlin. 

The illustrations No. 24:Ha and 248?* give a very fair, and a very 
favourable idea of the German architecture of the passing day. That 
the graces of proportion in detail which are so characteristic of similar 
work in France are to be discovered here, is more than the critic could 
venture to suggest ; but neither can it be denied that there is to be 
seen a certain display of refined taste and liberality of artistic motive 
which indicate the command of both natural intellect and acquired 
knowledge in their highest forms. Compared with some of the best 
examples of English work of a similar type, it may perhaps be said that 
such designs as these exemplify very distinctly the results of the 
elaborate academical training of Continental schools contrasted with the 
'non-academical oliice-pupilage which constitutes the chief part of 
architectural education in England. It is stoutly contended by typical 
English critics that the system of office-pupilage is the preferable mode 
of instruction ; that it encourages the development of individuahty and 
original feeling; and that it fills the country with variety of artistic treat- 
ment, where the ateliers of Continental States produce only elegant uni- 
formity and monotony, and artificial graces which soon pall upon the appe- 
tite. At the present moment earnest endeavours are being made in London 
to establish the means of supplementing, if no more, the training of the 
office, by introducing the element of outside teaching, and everyone must 
wish well to such attempts. It can scarcely be disputed that the typical 
English architect, who has " picked up " the craftsmanship of design in 
two or three good offices, or perhaps in only one, has to rely upon somewhat 
limited resources. At the same time it may be clear enough that after a 
long-drawn-out training in a State-supported School of the Fine Arts on 
the Continent the student is most likely to find himself overtauglit, and 
his freedom of thought very much drilled out of him. If the happy 



Book V 

LJ4Si(. Street Arcbiteciure, Vieuua. 

medium can be discovered soon enough and accepted in English offices, 
no doubt it will be a very good thing for the times that are coming. 

One thing that is illustrated very fairly in No. 248& is the somewhat 
meretricious ornamentation which is to be seen in a good deal of the new 
street Architecture of Germany ; it is scarcely necessary to observe that 
in weak hands this practice is frequently carried to excess. 


Another practice is illustrated in No 24<s« which in England has now 
happily disappeared in all good work : for not a little of the most 
attractive architecture in some of the chief German cities is un- 
fortunately produced in cement. Now it may no doubt be contended with 
perfect truth in the abstract that cement facing, if used in the right way, 


Dwelling House, Berlin. 

is a legitimate building-material. The use of plaster-work, for instance, 
as an "interior finish for walls and ceihngs, it is a mere affectation of 
archaism to think of disparaging ; so much so that the brick facing 
inside our churches and the stone facings inside the London Law Courts 
may be said to carry realism into actual vulgarity. But wlienever 
either plaster-work within or cement work without is to be used as a 



Book V, 

material for artistic Architecture— not mere Avall-covering — then the true 
architect is bound to face the question boldly, what are the hmits of its 

perfectly legitimate use? To produce a Classic " order " inside a public 
hall in lath and plaster on cradHng, is certainly not legitimate ; and 
when the nave-piers and arches of a church have been constructed in the 



The Votive Church, Vienna. 

same Avay the case is no worse. To Ijuild up an academical street 
facade in rough brickwork coated with a surface of cement to simulate 
the design of ornamental stonework is also a thing that cannot possibly 




Book V 

be clone legitimately. In some of Sir John Soane's ^YO^k in London — 
notably in his Mnsenm in Lincoln's Inn Fields — an honest attempt seems 
to have been made to contrive a style of ornament snitable for the 

H < 

cement facing then so nniversally in use : the resnlt may no doubt be 
called a failure, but there is evidence at least of both thought and 
courage. But the question of the artistic treatment of plastered 
surfaces is a large one, and, although in theoretical criticism by no 

Chap. III. 



means uninteresting, is in practice of too little importance to have 
provoked much discussion. 

Plate 248^ represents the central part of the principal front of the 

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new Parliament House at Berlin. It is grandiose and stately no doubt 
in an extreme degree, and sufficiently academical ; but no one can say 
it is characterised by the reticence of true artistic power. It is scarcely 


vulgar, but it appeals to the vulirar. The sculptural ornament is 
ornameut only, and very much overdone ; the architecture would be 
almost better with none of it at all. But the radical fault of the composi- 
tion is the prodigious pompousuess of the entrance door — for this is all 
it is. To what vast Arena can such an Arch of Triumph admit what 
supergloriotis Titanic Beings ? At any rate it tells the story admirably of 
the perhaps excusable inflation of the German genius after the somewhat 
unexpected conquest of its by no means modest neighbour. 

It can be easily understood that, whilst French taste could never 
be brought to occupy itself seriously with the revival of the Gothic Arts, 
the sympathies of the Germans might be readily led in that direction, 
as has been the case with the kindred English. Plates 248</ and '2-i:S( 
represent two crowning efforts of the modern German Gothic, the 
Votive Church in Vienna by Von Ferstel, and the To\vn Hall of the same 
city by Von Schmidt. It is needless to remark that the ecclesiastical 
example is very superior work to the municipal : in fact Eughsh Church 
architects may, from their very highest standpoint, cordially recognize 
the great artistic merits of the Votive Church, while even the least 
exacting of our Secular Gothicists would think twice or thrice before 
according their approval to the Town Hall. Both compositions are 
somewhat showy ; but that is characteristic of the locality generally, and 
perhaps excusably so in the bright capital of Austria. 

The National Academy at Athens (Plate 24:><J) is of coiu'se not on 
German ground, but, as an admirably designed monument of German 
Hellenism by Von Hansen on the very soil of Hellas, the credit of its 
merits has to be awarded to German art. The reader will no doubt 
perceive that the pair of monumental columns are to carry statues. 

Referring to the question of the influence upon the character of 
industrial art products in general which has been brought about l>y the 
International Exhibitions, it may perhaps be said that in Germany the 
results have not been so directly apparent as in England. This would 
naturally be so. The artistic guidance of France had always been mucli 
more at hand, and its authority more cordially appreciated. The enter- 
prise of England as a country of sttch great wealth has also been greater 
in such matters than that of the poorer Fatherland. But that German 
artizauship of the higher order has had its share in the benefits conferred 
on the whole world by the intercommunion of the last forty years will 
not be qtiestioued by any one. It may also be said that German 
^oademicalism has not succumbed to the popular principle ; but this 
again is but a local and superficial question, and, so far as Architecture 
is a test, the advance of artistic hberty cannot be denied. — Ed.] 


BOOK vr. 




There is a group of small nationalities extending from the northern 
boundary of France to the Arctic Sea, along the shores of the ocean, 
which may safely be grouped together ; and, as far as their Architec- 
tural history during the Renaissance period is concerned, may be dis- 
posed of in a short chapter — not on account of any affinity of race 
or similarity of taste which exists among them, but simply because, 
during the three centuries to whose architectural history this volume 
is confined, they have done very little indeed in the way of artistic 
building, and done that little badly. 

Much could not be hoped for from the Scandinavian group, inas- 
much as, dm-ing the Middle Ages, when all the world were cultivating 
with success the art of Architecture, they erected very few. buildings 
that were remarkable in any respect, and scarcely one that was 
original. Indeed, they showed no taste for architectural display 
during that period, and it is consequently hardly to be expected that 
they should have developed any at an age when all the more artistic 
nations of Europe were forsaking the wonderful styles they had for 
centuries been bringing to perfection. Still less could it be supposed 
that they should either have invented a new process, or done anything 
Avorthy of notice by that mode of proceeding which had proved so 
fatal in every other land. 

The honest Dutch are, and were, too matter-of-fact a people ever to 
excel in any decorative art. In painting they dehghted in repro- 
ducing nature literally but truthfully, but with the rarest possible 
exceptions never went beyond the limits of what might have been 
observed ; so in Architecture, good, honest, prosaic buildings, suitable 
for the uses for which they were designed, were all they cared to erect. 


Better things iniglit have been expected of the Belgians. During 
the Middle Ages, architectural magnificenf;e was in Belgium certainly 
one, if not the principal mode of display ; and the country is even 
now covered with the gorgeous monuments which resulted from this 
taste. It is true her cathedrals are neither so pure nor so artisti- 
cally perfect as those of France or England, and that her town-haUs 
are, generally at least, more remarkable for their dimensions and for 
the richness of their details than for the beauty of their design ; but 
still the Belgians were a building people, and strove always to build 
ornamentally. It is not at first sight very apparent why they should 
suddenly have ceased to indulge in a pursuit they had followed with 
such zeal, uor why, when they did return to it, they showed less 
aptitude for it than is to be found in any of the neighbouring lands. 
It may partly be that the Belgians are not essentially an artistic 
people : but a great deal is also due to the practical loss of liberty 
which resulted from their connection with Charles V., and from their 
falling into the power of Philip of Spain, whose iron rule put a stop 
to any na''ional display. The loss of their commerce, also, in con- 
sequence of the discoveries of Columbus and Vasco de Gama, deprived 
them of the means, even if they had had the taste, to continue the 
lavish expenditure they had hitherto indulged in on objects of archi- 
tectural magnificence. 

To this must be added that the Eeformation, although it did not 
change the outward form of the religion of the people, still destroyed 
that unhesitating faith in an all-powerful and undivided Church, 
which could do all and save all, and which consequently led men to 
lavish their wealth and devote their talents to purposes which were 
sure of some re'^^'ard at least in this world, and certain, they thought, of 
undoubted recompense in the next. 

Antwerp was the only one of the Belgian cities where the water 
was deep enough opposite her quays to be used by the larger vessels 
which, in consequence of the discoveries of the Spaniards and Portu- 
guese in t-he sixteenth century, came to be employed in long sea 
voyages : and she consequently retained something of her ancient 
prosperity long after Ghent and Bruges had sunk into comparative 
insignificance ; and as a natural consequence of this, Antwerp has 
more the appearance of a modern town than any of her rivals except 
Brussels, and possesses some buildings in the Renaissance style which 
are worthy of attention. 

The principal of these is the Hotel de Yille, erected, in 1581, by a 
native architect of the name of Cornelius de Yriendt, and a very fair 
specimen of the style of the period. The width of the fa9ade is 305 ft., 
with a height to the top of the cornice of 102 ft. This height is 
divided into four storeys ; first, a bold, deep arcade, then two storeys of 


windows of large dimensions, but each of them divided into fom* 
compartments by large, heavy stone mullions, which not only prevent 
their appearing too large, but make them part of the whole design, 
and part of the surface of the wall in which they are placed. Each 
window is separated from the one next to it by pilasters ; and above 
these thi'ee storeys there is an open gallery under the roof, with square 
pihars with bracket capitals in front. The employment of this open 
loggia in this position is most successful, as it gives shadow without 
unnecessary projection, and seems to suggest the roof, while it appro- 
priately crowns the walls. 

The building is more highly ornamented in the centre, being 
adorned Avith dou1)Ie colunms between each window, and rising to a 
height of LSo ft. to the head of the figure which crowns the pediment, 
though this, it must be confessed, is the least successful part of the 
composition. The obeUsks on either side are not only unmeaning 
but ungraceful as used here, and the whole has a built-up appearance 
very unlike the quasi-natural growth of a Medieval design applied to 
the same jturpose. Notwithstanding this, there are few more suc- 
cessful designs of its class. It is free from all the extravagances 
which disfigure structures of its kind and age ; and equally free on 
the other hand from the affectation of grandeur which so often deforms 
later buildings. Each storey here is complete in itself, and there is 
not a single ornamental feature apjjlied which is either more or less than 
it [tretends to be. 

In the present state of feeUng on this subject it would be the 
lieight of rashness "to compare this town hall with its Medifeval rivals. 
15nt, take away their towers, and place them where they can be equally 
\wll seen, and the Antwerp To^\^l Hall will stand the comparison as well 
as any other building of its age or class. Except to the extent to which 
the design of any one man must be inferior to that of many, and that a 
foreign style must be more difficult than a native one, it meets most of 
the requirements of good and truthful Architecture. 

The same praise cannot be accorded to the churches built in the 
same age. The principal one at Antwerp is that dedicated to San 
Carlo Borromeo ; but, like all churches btiilt by the Jesuits, its fagade 
is overloaded witli misplaced ornament. Internally, there is something 
majestic in the simple vault of the nave, resting on a double tier of 
arcades, reproducing much of the old Basihcan effect ; btit this is again 
spoiled by the tasteless extravagance of the details, everywhere, by 
white wasli where colour Avas wanted, and by gaudy colours where 
simplicity and repose wotild be far more eifective. 

Although the Belgians, from the circumstances above enumerated, 
1 have no buildings erected during the Renaissance period which can 
rank with those of more artistic countries, still it is impossible to 



Book VI. 

wander through the land without aj^preciating the strong feeUng for 
the beauties of Art on the part of the people, who, under more favourable 
circumstances, might and would have done things of which they might 
justly have been proud. 

In their churches the marble altarpieces are structures often as 
large as Roman triumphal arches, and frequently in very much better 
taste : and the rood-screens and pulpits are frequently equal, if not 
superior, to similar examples found elsewhere. In the construction of 
these edifices, too, they seldom fall into the absurdities too frequently 
met with in other countries. When, for instance, the nave of a church 
is separated from its side aisles by pillars supporting arches, it is the 
rarest possible thing to find a fragment of an entablature on the top 
of its pillars. The archivolt rises boldly from the capital, and with a 
vigour that shows that the pillar is not a sham, but really an essential 
and useful part of the construction of the edifice. 

iililf lEiT WitiiMMJiirii p ffif? ifwi ^ 


Front Elevation of Town Hall, Antwerp. 

In the church of St. Anne at Bruges the entablature over the pier 
arches is heavy beyond all precedent, inasmuch as it belongs to a tall 
Corinthian order, which is attached to the main piers of the inter- 
section, and the capitals of which are represented by the brackets 
between the arches. This is not quite successfully managed, but 
though the Doric Order has to support this heavy entablature, and a 
clerestory and vault above, the effect of the whole is most satisfactory. 
The spectator feels not only that the support is sufficient, but that the 
architect knew it would be so, and secured the safety of his super- 
structure by the immense solidity of the parts he employed. 

Though in a less degree, the same remark applies to the nave of 
the church of the Carmelites at Ghent, and to most of the churches 

Chap. I. 



of the Renaissance age in Belgium, They may not be models of taste, 
but they are not the tame apings of classicality which are so offensive 
in other countries. It was hardly, however, to be expected that at an 
epoch when neither Italy nor France could produce an ecclesiastical 
edifice which commands unqualified admiration, a smaU country situated 
as Belgium then was could do much. All that can be said is, that in so 
far as church-building was concerned, she probably occupied the same 
relative position during the Renaissance period that she had attained to 
during the existence of the true styles. 

View of St. Anne, Brut; 

Fruiu Wild's ' Architectural Grandeur.' 

Though Brussels has been so long a capital, it possesses no build- 
ings of any architectural importance which have been erected since 
the Reformation, nor a single modern church which a traveller would 
step out of the street to visit in any second-rate capital of Italy. The 
Royal Palace is of very ordinary architecture both externally and 
internally ; and that which a " patria grata " erected for Prince 
William of Orange is as commonplace a dwelling as can well be con- 
ceived : although there are some handsome apartments inside, their 


beauty depends far more on elaboration and richness than on any of the 
higher characteristics of Art. 

The buildings in Avhich the " Chambers " meet were erected under 
the Austrian rule, and are not unpleasing specimens of the usual 
portico style, which became stereotyped throughout Europe at that 
period. In the new quarter of the town are some fair imitations on a 
small scale of the style of Domestic Architectm-e prevalent at Paris, 
but nothing either original or very well worthy of admiration : and of 
course there are some chm'ches in the " style Gothique " which would 
make an English archiBologist shudder if he came within a mile of 

The new buildings erected for the Universities of Liege and Ghent 
afforded an esceUent opportunity for architectural display, had there 
been any one with talent sufficient to avail himself of it. These struc- 
tures are spacious, surrounded by large open spaces, and are at least 
intended to be of a monumental character. All, however, that has 
been produced in the way of architecture, externally, is a large j)ortico 
with a crushing pediment in the one instance, and an equally large 
portico without any pediment in the other ; and, internally, some halls 
and lecture theatres of very questionable taste. 

To this very meagre list might be added the names of some 
churches, — supposed to be Gothic, — recently built, or now in course 
of erection ; but they are such, that it will be better taste to pass 
them over in silence. It is too evident that Architecture does not at 
present flourish in this industrious little corner of the earth. Still, the 
knowledge of what they have done in this art during the Middle Ages, 
and of what they are now doing in Painting, affords every encourage- 
ment to hope that the Belgians may again resume the rank they are 
entitled to among the ornamentally building nations of Europe. 

Chap. II. 





There is only one edifice erected in Holland during the Renais- 
sance period to which the Dutch can point with much pride as 
exemplifying their taste for architectural magnificence ; and, if bigness 
is merit, the Stadthaus at Amsterdam is entitled to the position it 
claims in ah books on Architecture. It has also the virtue of being a 
stone building in a city of brick, and in a country where every stone 

i 1 1 III 1 1 ill Hill i liiii III 1 1 

Front Elevation of Town Hall, Amsterdam. 

employed has to be imported by sea ; but, as an architectural design, 
it can only rank with the Caserta or the Escurial, and other buildings 
remarkable for their dimensions, but also for their want of Art. 

Its dimensions in plan are 810 ft. by 260 ; and in height there is 
a basement storey of 16 ft., raised on a stylobate or steps 4 ft. high ; 
and, above this, two ranges of pilasters, which are spread all over the 
building — these occupy each 40 ft. in height, and together cover four 


storeys of windows. As if to make the disproportion between a base- 
ment of 16 ft. to a building 100 ft. in height even more apparent, 
there are seven smaU entrances, sjmbohcal of the seven provinces, in 
the principal fagade ; and as these are little more than 10 ft. in height 
to the top of the arch, it seems a puzzle to know how the inhabitants, 
or traffic suitable to so large a building, could be got in by such small 

Internally, the arrangements are better than the exterior would 
lead us to expect. The four staircases at each end of the corridor are 
singularly convenient, even if not so artistic as one great staircase 
woukl be ; and the position of the great hall in the centre is well chosen 
both for convenience and effect. The hall itself, which is 62 ft. wide 
by 125 ft. in length, is really a beautiful apartment, and by far the 
best feature in the building ; though some of the minor apartments are 
also good in proportion, and elegant in their details. 

As Amsterdam is a more modern city than Delft, Leyden, or 
Haarlem, and indeed the youngest of Dutch cities, inheriting only one 
important church from the Middle Ages, it has had to build those 
it required since the Reformation. There are the " Oude " and 
" Xieuwe Kercken," large and pretentious edifices, but possessing no 
merit either in arrangement or in architectural design : and the other 
churches of the town — as indeed all the Reformed churches of Holland 
— are plain utihtarian Iraildings, designed more to contain the greatest 
number of worshippers at the least possible cost, than to display 
architectural taste, or to ornament the situations in which they are 

Chap. 111. 





The Danes — or some one for them — built one or two respectable 
and interesting ecclesiastical edifices in the round-arched Gothic style, 
during the early ages of the mtroduction of Christianity among them, 
but nothing in the Pointed styles ; and, since that period, it need 

252. View of the Exchange, Copenhagen. From Marryat's 'Jutland and the Danish Isles.' 

hardly be said that Architecture, as a fine art, has not existed among 
them. The palaces at Copenhagen are large, and, it may be, con- 
venient buildings ; the churches are sufficient for their congregations, 
but pretend to nothing more ; and the countiy-houses of the gentry — 
for the Danes do reside on their properties — are neat and cheerful 
residences, but without — in any published instance — pretending to 
architectural display. 

The one building of which the inhabitants of Copenhagen pretend 



to be proud is their Exchange, erected hj Christian IV. about the 
year 1624. So much indeed do thev cherish it, that when, in the 
year 1858, it was transferred to the mercantile community by 

Lr j£^.-^Br4di£ ill t 


^ ' 

the government, it was expressly stipulated that no change should 
e^er be made in it which could detract from the character of the 
edifice. Even with this challenge, it is difficult to discover wherein 
the beauty of the building consists. The principal fa9ade is a 


characteristic specimen of the style, and free from affectation, but 
not beautiful in itself ; and the seven great dormer windows which 
ornament its flanks are certainly too large for their position ; and 
the wall between them not being broken up so as to carry their 
lines down to the ground, they look as if merely stuck on, without 
any apparent connection with the building. The spire of twisted 
dragons' tails is a capriccio pleasing enough in its way, but hardly 
good Architecture. 

To us the Castle of Elsinore is interesting from the associations 
connected with its name, and also from its architecture being the 
exact counterpart of that found in Scotland at the same period. We 
could almost believe that some parts of the Castles of Edinburgh or 
Stirhng were built by the same architects ; and Heriot's Hospital 
and other buildings might be quoted as proving an almost exact 
similarity of style between Denmark and Scotland during the Jacobean 
period of Art. In itself, too, the Castle of Elsinore is a picturesque 
pile as seen from the sea, and has a certain air of grandeur 
about it which pleases, though its details will not bear too close 

The Castle of Fredericksborg (Woodcut No. 253) was erected by 
the same Christian IV. who built the Exchange and the Castle of 
Rosenborg at Copenhagen ; and though in the same quaint style, 
and with the same detestable details, is, hke its fellow palace in 
the capital, a palatial and picturesque edifice. When seen at a little 
distance, its numerous spires group gracefully together, and accord 
well with the varied plan and outline of the building. It has now 
also a certain air of antiquity and a weather stain about it which 
cover a multitude of defects ; but its details are far from being 
pleasing, and all that can be said in its favour is, that it is a most 
characteristic specimen of the art — or the want of art — of the country 
in which it is found, and is another warning not to look for true 
Art among people of such purely Teutonic blood as our cousins the 




The great fire at Hamburgh, in the year 1842, aflforcled its 
wealthy citizens an opportunity of improving the appearance of their 
town, of which they have availed themselves to a very creditable 
extent. As this has been done chiefly under the influence of the 
example set them at Berlin, and under the guidance of the same 
architects, the new streets show the same appreciation of the require- 
ments of Domestic Architecture which characterises the new (juarters 
of that city. 

In the new streets, every house, whether great or smaU, is a 
separate and distinct design, and, with scarcely a single exception, it 
is design which exactly reproduces externally the internal arrangements 
of the building. There is no instance of great pillared porticoes 
darkening the light, or concealing shop-fronts ; no instance of tall 
unmeaning pilasters running through two or three storeys, vainly 
attempting to make small things look large. When cornices are used 
they are always at the top of the house, and represent the eaves of 
the roof ; and the architectural features are wholly confined to the 
doors, windows, and stringcourses, and other essential parts of the 
construction. It is true that the ornaments are not always in the 
very best taste, nor so elegant or so well applied as those found 
at Berlin ; but the general result is most satisfactory. The streets 
have all that variety and individuality which we admire so much 
in older towns, combined with the elegance and largeness which 
belong to their age ; and they as fully and as clearly express the 
wants and aspirations of the nineteenth century as any of the 
buildings of the Middle Ages do those of the period in which they 
were erected. 

On the other hand, it may be confessed that in the Post Office, 
the National Society's buildings, and one or two private edifices, the 
German architects have attempted what they call Gothic, and have 
failed as utterly as they generally do when they dabble in this style. 
Not only are their details bad, but the outline of the buildings is 
always so awkward and unmeaning as to obtrude most unpleasingly 
on the otherwise harmonious result of the rebuilding of the city. 


So complete is their ignorance of the principles of Gothic Art, that 
it is no matter of surprise that an English architect bore off both 
prizes in the competition for the rebuilding of St. Nicholas's Church 
and for the new Town-hall. The first of these is now complete, 
except the upper portion of the spire, and when completed, promises, 
as far as such a building can do, to make the good Hamburghers 
believe that the nineteenth century is a myth, and that the clock of 
time has stood still for the last five centuries — if not in cotton- 
spinning and engine-making, at least in all that concerns Architecture, 
or its sister Arts. 





If any bnildiugs of the Eenaissauce period exist in Sweden or 
Norway which are worthy of admiration, all that can be said is, that 
travellers have omitted to describe, or artists to draw them, and that 
they have been equally ig-nored by the writers of guide-books. 

The truth, however, most probably is, that, like their kindred 
the Danes, they are not an artistic, — certainly not an architectural 

The one building of tlieirs known as Avorthy of admiration is the 
Palace at Stockholm, commenced by the celebrated Charles XII., in 
the year 1G98, from the designs of a French architect, Nicodemus 
de Tessin. Considerable progress was made in the works during the 
next seven or eight years ; but the expenses in which his wars involved 
the King, and, finally, his defeat at Pultowa, arrested their progress, 
so that they were not so far completed as to render the palace habitable 
before 1753 ; but no departure seems to have been made from the 
original design then or at any subsequent period. 

The main body of the building is a nearly square block, 378 ft. by 
382, enclosing a courtyard 247 ft. by 270. The principal facade is 
extended by wings to a length of nearly 700 ft. ; and the general 
height of the great central block is 95 ft. to the top of the balustrade, 
from the granite basement on which it stands. In addition to these 
noble dimensions, the situation is almost unrivalled ; one of its faces 
being open to the inlets of the sea which divide the city so picturesquely 
into islands, — -the other two, towards the town and the. cathedral, are 
sufficiently open for architectural effect. 

Its great ' merit, however, is the simplicity and grandeur of the 
whole design ; in which it stands unrivalled among the ]3alaces of 
Europe, with the single exception of the Farnese at Eome ; and in some 
respects its proportions are even better than those of that far-famed 
palace. It is true the material here is only brick and plaster : but the 
parts are so large and so well balanced that we forget this defect : and 
it is crowned by a cornicione so well proportioned to the mass lielow, 
that the eye is charmed and the feelings satisfied from whate^'er point 
of view the palace is regarded. 


There are no two buildings in the world that stand in sneli 
distinct contrast to one another, in this respect, as this Palace at 
Stockliohn and the Winter Palace at St. Petersburgh. Though 

* pr-^'S|J^T3= 

Plan of Palace at Stockholm. From WiebekiDg. 

ft 2 



Book VI. 

nearly of the same age, not differing much in size, and like one 
•another in situation, the superior dimensions of the mam l)lock of 
the St. Petersburgh example is entirely thrown away by the little- 
ness of its details, and it offends every one by the tawdriness of its 
bizarre decorations ; while the other gains not only size, but dignity, 
from its noble simplicity, and pleases universally from its expressing 
so clearly what it is, without affectation or attempt at concealment. 

It is to be regretted that, even here, the garden front is adorned 
with some three-quarter columns, which would be much better away ; 
and there are some details in various parts which might be improved. 

ifllfifiifll If 1 ll_f ,_n,M_ m 

tjij %3SrXijiJiM ^s3SJ^^^^^ -^J^i 

mMjiA4-iL4,ei .^Xji Jl jl^^ IlJ fl_|j^ 4 J s_i 

■I "J 

View of the Palace at Stockholm. 

But these are trifles compared with the general merit of the design ; 
and, considering the age in which it was erected, the Palace at Stock- 
holm must be regarded as a marvellous instance of architectural purity 
and good taste. 

The same Tessin erected several churches and country-houses, 
either in, or in the neighbourhood of Stockholm ; l)ut in these he was 
not so successful as in the Palace ; and none of them are such as to 
command the admiration which that great work extorts from all who 
behold it. 




[Si:\iiLAE progress to that which has been described for German 
arcliitecture has taken place of late years in the north-western conntries 
of Europe, although with far inferior opportunities of display. In 
Belgium it is French taste that is conspicuous ; but the most notable 
specimen of the building art which has been produced, the truly magni- 
ficent Palais de Justice at Brussels (No. 255a), if it were the design of 
a Frenchman, would certainly entitle him to be called the representative 
of a very advanced and original school. The supreme majesty of the 
edifice — aided immensely by the majesty of the situation — strikes the 
beholder with the greatest force, and the boldness of the grouping 
and the play of masses appear to carry his mind quite beyond the 
considerations of criticism ; but, nevertheless, when the desiga comes to 
be architecturally examined, there is no doubt that, if it still pleases 
the eye, it fails in certain points to satisfy the intellect. The impressive- 
ness of the composition depends largely upon the introduction of certain 
inordinately massive features, easily recognisable, whose omission, or 
reduction to the prevailing scale of the design, would probably diminish 
the grandiose effect considerably. In fact, there are several scales in 
the composition, which it is more than difficult to attempt to recoucile ; 
and there are few better exercises to be found for the student than that 
w^hich would lie furnished by the problem how to bring all the features 
of this ]-emarkable design into harmony of scale without detracting too 
much from its peculiar eflFect of picturesque and piquant, and almost 
aggressive, grandeur. Of course it would be easy enough to reduce the 
whole composition to one or another form of Classic simplicity, but 
there is something here (juite adverse to all simplicity which constitutes 
the leading motive of the artist. On the whole this edifice may perhaps 
be described as the dream of a scene-painter unexpectedly realised, in 
which magnificence must be accepted in lieu of taste, and the vague 
admiration of the multitude for the analysis of the critic. 

In Holland the local development of the Itahan style has no 
differed materially from what has taken place elsewhere ; but there has 
been some very good Gothic work done, chiefly by Cuypers, and Plate 255b 



may be taken as perhaps the best example that can be cited. It 
is not easy to see why a revival of the Mediieval mode should be more 
successful in that country than in Germany ; but the reader will 


perceive in the illustratiou all the evidences of a high appreciation of 
the idiosyncrasy of' the ancient style, although it will not be supposed 
that its rehabilitation for modern use has any such hold upon the 
popular mind as it has in England. 

Plate 255c- shows the principal facade of a very meritorious building 
at Lund, in Sweden. Leaving (,lie reader to decide for himself how far 

Church at Eindhoven. 

he can approve the acceptance of two scales involved in the use of a 
single-storey Order in such direct contrast with the double-storey Order 
which gives the motive to the composition, he will cordially acknow- 
ledge the neatness with which the one is worked into the other, not to 
mention other merits which Avill be readily discerned. — Ed.] 






Peter tlie Great 1698 1 Catherine II 1762 

Catherine 1 1725 

Peter II 1727 

Auue 1730 

Elizabeth .. .. ■ . 1741 

Paul 1 1 796 

Alexander 1801 

Nicholas 1825 


Any one who is aware how correctly and how iufalhbly Architecture 
must express the feeHugs aud aspirations of a people, however they 
may attempt to disguise them, will of course be prepared to expect, in 
Eussia, a history of the Art differing in many essential particulars 
from that of any of the other countries in Europe. 

Down to the time of Peter the Great the civilisation of Russia was 
more essentially Asiatic than European ; and her Architecture was 
that peculiar form of the Mongolic type which has been described in 
the ' History of Architecture.' Occasionally, it is true, in later times, 
. pilasters and other quasi-Classical forms Avere sometimes adopted from 
the styles of the Western world ; but they were used without the least 
reference to their meaning, or to their appropriateness to the situation 
in which they were placed. 

With the foundation of St. Petersburgh, in 1703, a new era com- 
menced. Her rulers then determined that Rnssia should take her 
place among the nations of Europe, and have worked steadily and 
powerfully towards the attainment of this object during a century and 
a half. Success has attended their efforts to at least this extent, that 
in St. Petersburgh everything bears outwardly the aspect of Western 
Europe : and he must have a keen eye who can detect anything in her 
Architecture that would lead him to believe he was so far north as 
the banks of the Neva, and nearly thirty degrees eastward of Paris. 
Whether this exotic civilisation extends far beneath the surface or 


not remains to be seen ; and it may Avell be qnestioned whether it has 
spread widely over the empire, or is only confined within the walls of 
the modern capital. 

So far as can be gathered from snch data as are available, Moscow 
still clings to her Tartar feelings, and KiefF remains lethargic, with 
more of the East than the West in her modes of thought. But, though 
the effect may not yet be apparent, there is a leaven spread over the 
old Tartar crust, which may penetrate deeper, and may eventually 
work a change ; but, till it does so, the history of the European form 
of Eussian civilisation, and of her modem Art, must l)e chiefly confined 
to the capital. 

In so thorouglily centrahsed a monarchy, the history of the capital 
is generally that of the empire ; and, in this respect, St. Petersburgh 
may be said to be even more essentially the representative of modern 
Russia than Paris is of France. What was done in the provinces had 
first been done in St. Petersburgh, and was copied with more or less 
exactness as the place was more or less remote : but it is only in the 
capital that the series is complete, and the history of Art there 
is the history of Art throughout the length and breadth of the 

Unfortunately, the Art we find at St. Petersburgh is, like her 
civilisation, essentially exotic. The architects who erected the 
greatest number of buildings were Tressini, Pastorelli, Eossi, Gua- 
renghi, and other Italians. Thomond and Montferrand were French- 
men ; and Speckler and Klenze are Germans ; and though the names 
of one or two Russians do occasionally appear on the list, it is a 
fact that nine-tenths of the buildings of the capital were designed 
and carried out by foreigners, and the Russians who designed the 
remaining tenth — if it amounts to so much — were only tolerated 
because they adopted the principles and copied the details of their 
foreign instructors. 

It is also a misfortune for Eussia that she began to build in the 
Italian style just when the art in Europe, and especially in Italy, was 
at the lowest ebb of degradation — when Borromini and (luarini had 
contorted everything to madness, and men neither could copy what 
was Ijeautiful nor invent anytliing that was reasonalile. Euro]w has 
since attained proficiency in the copying branch, and Eussia has 
followed slowly in her wake. Had it been possible for her to have 
worked out her own civihsation, she might perhaps have excelled in 
invention, and thus surpassed the other European nations in the exer- 
cise of true Art. But that was not the path she chose, either because 
the Russians are not an architectural race, or because the form of her 
government was such as to repress the development of artistic excel- 
lence on the part of its subjects. Judging from the experience of 
Avhat they did from the time of the foundation of Kieff till the accession 


of Peter the Great, it would appear that the first sng-gestion aifords 
the true sohition of the difficulty.^ Durino- the whole of that lono- 
period they did not erect a sing-le buildlug- remarkable for constructive 
excellence — though they had always the dome of St. Sophia before 
tlieir eyes — -nor one showing any true appreciation of the principles of 
architectural design. 

It is true there is always an amount of local character and fitness 
about tlieir buildings which pleases, and the decoration is purpose- 
like, even when not beautiful. But in the whole Russian Empire 
there is not an edifice which will stand a moment's comparison with 
the contemporary buildings of "Western Europe erected during the 
Middle Age period. 

In other respects St. Petersburgh is much more fortunately 
circumstanced for architectural display than any of the older cities of 
Europe. When Peter the Great determined to found the capital 
of his vast empire on the banks of the Neva, there was hardly a 
fisherman's hut to be seen on the spot. It was a desolate, un- 
cultivated plain on the banks of a noble river ; but with nothing 
whatever to impede the alignment of his streets, or to prevent his 
planning the new town so as to suit any visions he might ha^"e of its 
future greatness. 

The intention of the founder evidently was that the city should 
occupy the islands between the Neva and the Nefka, where the 
fortress stands and his own palace stood. The south side of the ri^'er 
was to be occupied by the dockyard, and the establishments belonging 
to it, these being, in tlie estimation of Peter the Great, the most 
important buildings in the empire. In fact, the object of fixing the 
capital on this spot, was to obtain access to the sea, and to provide 
suitable accommodation for the development of the future marine of 
the nation. 

The superior spaciousness of the site on the south side, coupled 
with the difficulty of communicating, with the rest of the empire across 
the river at certain seasons of the year, led to a gradual abandonment 
of this plan. This change further led to the curious anomaly that the 
three great streets dividing the town into four quai'ters do not radiate 
from the palace but from the dockyard, which still remains the 
principal object on this side of the river, occupying the best and most 
prominent position. 

Barring this defect, the whole plan of the city is judicious and 
noble. The great river that sweeps through it, varied with its 
islands, and the canals that intersect it in various directions, prevent 
anything like monotony arising from its regularity ; and the noble 
quays that line the river side, and the splendid edifices rising 

' See ' History of Architecture,' vol. ii. pp. 350-363. 


everywhere l>ebind them, give to the whole an air of grandeur 
and dignity which — at first sight at least — is unsurpassed bv any 
city of Europe. 

It is only when we come to examine a little more closely these 
nohly planned edifices that we feel the want of Art shown in their 
execution, and we are soon satiated in consequence of the endless 
repetition of the useless and generally inappropriate features which 
form the staple of their design. 




It is said there are a thoasaucl or fifteen hundred churches in 
Moscow, while there are hardly one-tenth of that uuml)er in the new 
capital — a discrepancy arising, not from any difference in the intensity 
of religions feehng, but from the circimistance that in ^loscow the 
churches are mere oratories, as they are in all truly Greek commu- 
nities. A cell a few feet square, with a picture of the Virgin, is a 
church at Moscow : and that city possesses at least four cathedrals, 
the largest of which would not suffice for the dinrcli "f a small parish 
in any other part of Europe. 

At St. Petersburgh. on the other hand, the churches are on the 
European scale, and many of them vie in dimensions with the proudest 
monuments of modern times. 

The oldest church in St. Petei*sburgh is that erected or begun by 
Peter the Great at the Citadel. Its plan is that of a Latin Basilica, 
aljout 200 ft. long by loO ft. in width, divided internally into three 
aisles, and presenting no remarkable peculiarity inside. Externally. 
there is one dome on the roof which suggests its connection with the 
Eastern Church, and at the west end a taU slender spire, reaching a 
height of 304 ft., a feature borrowed from the "West ; but in Eussia, 
and in tliis form, especially suggestive of the Xeva, for it is not to l^e 
found anywhere far from its banks. The details of the church are 
generally coarse, and more badly designed than might l>e expected 
from its architect, Tressini, who, as an Italian, even in that day, 
ought to have known how to draw a Doric Order. 

Had Peter the Great had his own way, every subsequent clmrch in 
his empire woidd have been a Latin Basihca like this : and there are 
several of this age in various parts of the empire, which are copies 
more or less exact of this tyi^ical edifice. But the old Tartar feeling 
was not so easily extinguished : and when Rastrelli, in 1734, was called 
upon to design the Smolnoy Monastery, near St. Petei'sburgh (^"Woodcut 
Xo. 257), he reverted to the old Muscovite tv|)e, but clothed it in the 
tawdriest finery of the then fashionable French school. The church, 
which stands in the centre of a magnificent square formed by the 
monastic buildings, is 245 ft. in lenoth from east to west bv 10^ ft. 



256. Chuvcb in the Citadel, St. PetersburgU. From Durund, ' Voyage en l;u-sie.' 

across the transepts, and the central dome reaches a height of 315 ft. 
—or nearly that of onr own St. Paul's. It has not, however, one 
individual feature worthy of admiration ; and the only thing that can 


be said for it is, that its five domes are Russian in idea : hut if their 
ornamentation is characteristic of Russian civihsation in that day, 
" taut pis j)our cllo .' " It would l)e dii¥icult to find in Europe anything 
so really bad as this. 

Xotwithstanding- these defects, it cannot be denied that this 
design has some architectural merit. The church stands well in the 
centre of a great court, surrounded by Ijuildings which are evidently 
and honestly the residences of the ecclesiastics attached to its service. 
The general outline of its five domes is pleasing, and they group 
picturesquely with each other, and with the buildings surrounding 
them : above all, they are Russian, affecting to be nothing but what 
they are, and their truthfulness goes far to redeem most of their other 
defects. It would be a great misfortune if anything similar were to 
be done again ; but it would be difficult to find a more essentially 
characteristic representation of Russia and her Art at the time this 
church was erected than this fantastic monastic estabhshment. 

The rival monastery of St. Alexander Newsld, a little further up 
the river, is one of the few buildings of the capital des&gned by a 
Russian. His name was Staroff, and his design is far more sober and 
less objectionable than that just mentioned. The monastery was 
erected during the reign of the second Catherine, and the church, 
though designed by a native, is a basilica in form, 255 ft. long by 
14:.j ft. across the transepts, the intersection being covered by a dome 
of Italian design and graceful outline. CO ft. in diameter. At the west 
end are two towers of rather stunted and ungraceful forms : but both 
internally and externally there is more design and a better adaptation 
of parts to the whole than in almost any other church in the capital. 
Tlie princijtal defects lie in a directly opposite direction from those of 
the churcli last mentioned. It is neither Russian nor local, l»ut simply 
a moderately well designed Italian church of its age, such as might 
be found in any city of Italy. It looks like an Italian church, 
transported to this place without any assignable reason, and executed 
in plaster, and, in consequence, loses that amount of meaning whioh 
goes so far to redeem its fantastic neighbour. 

The plan of the Church of St. Xicholas is worth recording, as it 
is unknown in any other part of Europe, though found in the Caves 
at Ellora, and in many other buildings in the East. It is simple, but 
affording great variety of perspective : suited to the Greek ritual, 
wliich is not congregational, and does not require that the worshippers 
should either see or hear all that is going on. Had the centre been 
an octagon — as it ought to have been — it might have been very 
beautiful, and would have lent itself, better even than it now does, 
to the five domes which crown it externally. The little additional 
width of the central arches is hardly sufficient to give the central 
dome the predominance which in this class of composition it ought 



Elevation ot Smolnoy Monastery, St. Petei-sburgb. 

Chap. I. 



258. Plan of the Church of St. Nicholas, St. Petersburgh . 

to possess : and, even internally a more important central point 
wonld have added dignity to the whole. With these alterations, it 
wonld have become practically the same design as onr 8t. Stephen's, 
"\Vall)rook, which, for this class of plan, is perhaps the happiest 
arrangement that has yet been carried into effect.^ 

The dimensions of this 
church are 182 ft. each way, 
which, though not large, are 
sufficient for architectural 
effect when properly used, 
and are very considerable for 
a Russian place of worship, 
if measured by the standard 
of the ]\riddle Ages. 

Till the completion of the 
great church of 8t, Isaac's, 
a few years ago, that of Our 
Lady of Kasan was the prin- 
cipal — in fact, the cathedral 
— church of St. Petersburgh. 
It was erected, or rather 

completed, in gratitude for the Russian victories from 1812 to 1814, 
and by a native architect, Varonikin. 

The suggestion of the design is taken from St. Peter's at Rome, 
with its circular colonnade ; but the idea is here used with so much 
freedom, and the whole construction of the plan shows so much 
novelty, as to entitle its author to great credit for originality. 
Altogether there is perhai)s no finer conception for a chiu'ch — standing 
a httle back, as this one does, on one side of a street — than a grand 
semicircular colonnade, stretching its arms forward as if to invite the 
votaries, and showing in its centre the well-proportioned dome that 
crowns its intersection ; while the nave and choir are revealed, though 
scarcely seen, between the interstices of the intercolumniations. The 
chiu'ch, too, is suflB^ciently large, being 258 ft. long over all externally, 
and 24:S in width, the dome being G?> ft. in diameter, and 200 ft. higli 

With all these elements of beauty, however, the effect is very 
considerably spoilt by the indifferent details, both internally and 
externally. The Corinthian columns are lanky and wire-drawn, the 
entablature lean, and the ornaments badly designed and worse exe- 
cuted. It was also a solecism to make the pillars of the colonnade the 
same in design and dimensions with those of the porticoes of the 

^ Its outline, in plan, is that sni^gesttd for the original desit^n of St. Paul'.s ("Wood- 
cut Xu. 17;! , and is singularly happy, giving both strength and variety. 



Book VII, 

Plan of the Church of Our Ladv of Kasan, St. Petersburgh. 

church. Even if it was determined thev should be of the same Order, 
which would have l^een of doubtful propriety, they ought certainly to 
have been subordinated in some way or other. As they now stand, 
they are a mere screen to hide, instead of a porch to dignify, the church 
to which they are attached. Xotwithstanding aU these defects. Our 
Lady of Kasan is a very nolAe church, and its semicircidar poitic<:i a 
feature well worthy of imitation. 

Besides these there are several smaller chmx-hes in the city, scane 
of which show considerable ingentiity in adapting the Classical style 
to the square forms of the pure Greek Church ; for either the building 
must be low externally, if it is to have a pleasing proportion in the 
interior, or the requisite height for external effect mtist l>e attained 
either by a sham dome above the true roof, or by making the interior 
so high as to be out of all proportion. 

One of these churches, dedicated to St. Catherine, is verv similar 

Chap. I. 



i60. Half Section, half Elevation, of the Chmch called du Kite Grec, St. Peteisburgh. 

to Schinkel's church at Potsdam, described in page 202. but the 
portico is larger in proportion to the mass, and, consejuently. far 
more pleasing, and the dome, also, is better designed. IntemaHv its 
height is too great, being 120 ft., the whole area of the church 
externally being only 108 ft. by 150 ; but it is on the whole a very 
simple and pleasing desisrn. 

The Church Zamienie is a square of 12(> ft. each way. with a 
recessed portico of two pillars in anfis on three of its faces, and the 
whole is simply and elegantly designed ; while, its height externally 
being only 112 ft., its interior is not sacrificed to external effect. 

There is a third and more elegant chmvh, known as that of the 
" Greeks," or of the Rite Gi*ec (Woodcut Xo. 200 ). which is more 
elaborate than either of these, and. if its base had been a Mttle more 
spread, would have formed a pleasing model for a larger church, 
though here again the internal height is too great for its other 

Still, the mode in which the four angle towers are worked into the 
composition by the upper colonnades, and the bold manner in which 
light is introduced by fotu* great semicircular windows immediately 
under the dome, are all features which might be employed in such 


compositions with success, and show how easily tlie Rnssians might 
obtain beautiful churches in this style by only settling on some 
well-understood type, and being content to elaborate it, instead oi 
rushing about looking for fresh models for every new building they 
propose to erect. 

It is certainly to be regretted that some such system has not been 
adopted in reference to the designs for the great Chui'ch of St. Isaac : 
for, although it is one of the largest and most expensive churches in 
modern Eiuvpe — although the materials employed iu its construction 
are unsurpassed for beauty and richness, and its situation is unrivalled, 
yet it must be confessed that the result is most unsatisfactory, and 
that half its advantages have been thrown away from the want of 
sufficient skill on the part of the architect to enable him to avail 
himself of them. 

The site on which the Cathedral of St. Isaac stands seems from 
the first to have been destined to be occupied by the ]n'incipal archi- 
tectural monument of the city. It is a maguilicent place, extending 
about (500 yards from the river's bank, with an average width of more 
than 2t>u yards : bounded, at the Quay, by the Admiralty on one hand 
and the Senate House on the other : while, at the spot where the 
church stands, the Riding School, with its beautiful portico, and on 
the other side the AVar Office, support it, without interfering with its 
architectural effect. 

Three churches have ah-eady stood ou this spot : — fii-st, a woodeu 
one, nearly cocA-al with the city. This was replaced by one designed 
by Renaldi. of great pretensions, commenced dming the reign of the 
second Catherine : but, being left unfinished, was remodelled on a 
smaller and less expensi\e scale by the Emperor Paid, who completed 
and dedicated it to Divine worship. 

The church thus erected was far from being commensurate with 
the dignity of the site, or of sufficient importance to be the cathedral 
of such a city as St, Petei-sburgh had become. 

In consevpience of this the Emperor Alexander determined on 
replacing it by a building which should not only be worthy of the 
situation, but should rival the finest churches of modern Europe in 
extent, and snrjxiss them in richness of decoration. 

After various attempts to ja-ocure satisfactory designs in other 
quart ei-s. he at last, in the year 1818, confided its execution to a Freucb 
architect, the ChevaUer de ]iIout terra nd. He superintended its con- 
struction diuiiig the next forty veal's, lived to see it completed, and 
to assist in its dedication in 18o8. though he died very shortly 

The church itself is a rectangle, measuring 305 ft. east and west, 
by 16(5 north and south : and. including the foiu" great porticoes, cover's 
an area. a<xxn-ding to the architect's calculation, of G8,8i5 ft. It is 

Chap. I. 



" L ■ 












3 D 


"S (TJ O 




irs ID 

261. Plan of St. Isaac's Church, St. Petersburgh. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

therefore larger than the Pantheon at Paris (which contains 00,287 ft.), 
though considerably smaller than St. Paul's, Avhicli covei"s SJ:,02o ft. 

Of its area l.S,301 ft., or considerably more than one-fourth, is occu- 
pied by the points of support ; so tliat, looked at from a constructive 
point of view, St. Isaac's stands lower than any other church in 
Europe, as will be seen by the following table, showing the number of 
feet in each 1 ()()() of their area occupied in the churches specified 
by the points of support, this tal)le being compiled by the architect 
himself : — 

St. Isaac's 2fJ(J f. in 1000 

St. Peter's, RMiie . . . . 2G1 „ 
Pantheon, Rome . . . . 232 „ „ 
St. Sophia, Constantinople 217 „ „ 
St, Maria, Florence . . 201 „ 

And, as shown before,* many of the Gothic Ijuildings come oif as low 
as 100 ft. in 1000, or in other words only one-tenth of their area is 
occupied by tlie points of support. Thus a Clothic architect, with so 
large a portion of his building appropriated to open porticoes, would 
certainlv not have consumed more than one-third of the materials used 

St. Paul's, London. . 

. 170 It. 

in 1000 

Milan Cathedral . . 

. 161 , 

St. Oenevieve, Paris . 

. 154 , 

St. Sulpice, Paris . 

. 151 . 

Notre Dame, Paris 

• 140 „ 


History of Architecture,' Introilucfion. 



Xorth-East N'iew of St. Isaac's, St. Petersburgh. 

here : aud even iu the Itahau style the experience of the best archi- 
tects shows that one-half of the quantitv ought to have sufficed. 
Looking at the unstable natiu'e of his foundations, and the enormous 
expense iuciuTed in securing them, economy of material, irrespective 
of expense, ought to have been especially studied iu this instance. 
This waut of constructive skill is, however, detrimental, not only in 
this respect, but, in consequence of it, the area internally is so 
crowded as to lose half its effect, while externally the building is 
heavy beyond all precedent. 

The uatm'e of the situation requires that the principal entrance 
should l>e lateral, as orientation, east aud west, is more strongly in- 
sisted upon in the Greek Church than even iu that of Xoitheru Europe : 
and, besides this, Alexander in confiding the design to tlie architect 
particularly insisted that the thi-ee chapels of Catheriue's church, 
which had been consecrated, should be preserved. Xotliiug therefore 
could be l>etter than the conception of placing here a noble Corinthian 
portico, copied almost literally, but with somewhat increased dimen- 
sions, from that of the Pantheon at Eome. Havinof done this, however, 


it was ab.surd to place an equally grand portico of sixteen columns on 
tlie opposite face, which, from its situation, must always be the back 
of the church. At all events, if tliis was done, it was indispensable 
that the western front, which is, and always miLst be, the principal 
entrance, should at least have one equally maornificent : instead of 
this, we find only a shallow porch of eisrht pillars. But the worst 
feature of the design is that a similar portico is placed at the east end, 
A\"]iere there could not possibly he an entrance. This was the more 
gratuitous, as in order to do it the architect was obliged to remove the 
a]ise of the central chapel of the old church, and supply its place l>y a 
flat wall \vith a single window in it : thus not only destroying the 
effect internally, but at the same time taking away all the meaning of 
the design, as seen externally. Had he left the apse, and omitted his 
eastern portico altogether, the design would have Ixjen infinitely 
better : but the right thing to have done would have been to bend his 
colonnade round the apse, and thus give it a dignity commensurate 
with the lateral porticoes. 

Forgetting for the moment the misapplication of these porticoes 
they are by far the finest that have been erected since the time of the 
Romans. Each of the forty-eight columns which compose them is a 
single piece of the most iDeautiful rose-coloured granite, 56 ft. in 
height, and G ft. G in. in diameter. Those of the Pantheon at Rome 
are only 47 ft. 5 in. Of this length, however, 7 ft. is covered by the 
bronze capital, and 2 ft. 6 in. by a base, also of that metal, which 
reduces what can be seen of the height of the mouohth to 45 ft. G in., 
which is still however considerably in excess of the shaft of the Roman 
example. The entablature, as indeed the whole building, is faced with 
marljle : and internally the grand porticoes are roofed by a great arch 
in the centre and a flat roof over the lateral bays. AU this is very 
noljle ; but the effect of these porticoes is painfully destroyed by an 
enormous double attic, half the height of the whole Order (71 ft.), 
placed there to hide the roof of the building, but which dwarfs the 
columnar ordinance to an extent hardly conceivable. There are many 
ways in which this could have been avoided. The proper one of 
course would have iDeen to show the roof honestly, and rendei' it orna- 
mental, than which nothing could have been easier : but even if the 
attic had lx;en broken into antae, with openings l^etween, so as to look 
like i^art of the roof, it would not have destroyed the effect of the 
porticoes as it now does. 

The attic has the further defect of preventing the cormection 
between the dome and the substructm-e of the chm-ch being seen. The 
dome seems to stand on the rocif. or to l>e thrust through it : whereas, 
had the roof of the four porches been earned back to its square base, 
the whole would have been at once constructively inteUigiljle. 

The dome itself is verv similar extcmallv to that of the Pantheon 



Book VII. 

at Paris, except that in the peristyle considerable confusion arises from 
there being only twelve great openings behind twenty-four eipiidistant 
columns : and, as the windows are wider than the intercolunniiutions, 
the effect is not pleasing, especially as again there are twenty-four 
windows in the attic. But both these domes want the solidity and 
shadow which are given at St. Paul's by the introduction of the eight 
masses containing the staircases. 

The pillars of the peristyle of the 
dome of St. Isaac's Church are mono- 
liths of red granite, like those of the 
porticoes, but only 42 ft. in height, 
base and capital included, and of a less 
proportionate diameter. 

The whole of the constructive parts 
of the dome, with the lantern which it 
supports, are of cast or wrought iron ; 
an expedient that seems justifial)le in 
such a case, as it is one which, if 
properly used, might be made as dur- 
able as any eqnally lofty structure 
wholly of masonry could possibly be ; 
while there is great difficulty in con- 
structing the curved part of a dome 
externally in stone in such a manner 
that it shall be stable and at the same 
time pleasing in outline. Unfortu- 
nately the iron-^vork here used shows 
as little constructive skill as the other 
parts of the building, throughout the 
whole of which there is a (piantity 
of cast and wrought iron tying and 
bracing employed, which not only shows 
that the masses are badly poised in the 
first instance, but would ensure their 
destruction if the atmospheric in- 
fluences should ever reach them. 

A good deal of this might have been 
excusable if the architect had heen 
attempting to erect a building as pro- 
portionately light as those of the 
Gothic age ; but as he was using more 
materials than have ever been employed since the days of the Egyp- 
tians, it indicates an unpardonable degree of unskilfulness on his part. 

Besides the great dome there are the four cupolini, or bell-towers,, 
which are usually found in Eussian churches. These are unobjection- 

Half Section of the Dome of St. Isaac's, 
St. Petersburgh. 


able in design, and are each again adorned with eight monolithic 
colnmns, in this case 27 ft. in height. There is still a fourth 
Order of columns, adorning the four windows that admit light into 
the interior ; but these are only 20 ft. high, including base and 

These windows form one of the great mistakes of the design. They 
are ordinary sash windows, such as are used in Domestic Architecture, 
and the eye inevitably guesses their width at 4 or 5 ft., their height 
at 8 or 10 ; and they form the scale according to which the whole 
church is measured. It requires an immense effort to realise the fact 
that they are really 10 ft. wide, and more than 30 ft. high, and that 
the little columns on brackets which support their ental )latures are 
really grand monohths 20 ft. high ! Besides this, a building "nith 
only four windows, — the three beneath the eastern portico are not 
supposed to be seen or known, — cannot appear of large dimensions ; 
and the mind inevitably brings it down to the scale of those other 
structures for which a similar number of openings would suffice. 

As remarked above, the same dwarfing effect is produced in St. 
Peter's by the enormous size of the Order employed, the fewness of the 
parts, and gigantic character of the sculpture : but in that instance 
there is a multiplicity of detail and overcrowding of ornament which 
to a certain extent restores the equilibrium of dimension when the 
eye becomes familiar with it. St. Isaac's has nothing of the kind — it 
is only a small church magnified : and if erected on one-third or one- 
fourth the scale it now occupies, would have ])een a far more appro- 
priate design. In fact, from whatever point of view it is looked 
at, it must he admitted that in no building, either ancient or modern, 
has so much been done to destroy in appearance the really noble 
proportions which it possesses. 

Internally, the great nave is 48 ft. in width and 98 ft. high, being 
made up, first, of an Order 51 ft. high, crowned by an attic measuring 
21 ft., and then the vault, which, being a little stilted, makes up 26 ft. 
The great dome measures only 71 ft., or in diameter internally little 
more than half that of St. Peter's or the cathedral at Florence ; while 
St. Paul's measures 108 ft., and the Pantheon at Paris Go. But even 
these dimensions would suffice were it not that the whole floor of the 
l)uilding is so crowded with the masses of construction that there are 
no cross perspectives of any beauty, or poetry of any sort. It is as 
rich as malachite and marble combined with sculpture and painting 
can make it ; no expense has been spared ; but a little, even a very 
httle. taste, or even a little constructive skill, would have been of 
more value than the whole of this magnificence. So far, indeed, has 
it been carried, that nothing saves the church from contempt but the 
grandeur of the materials of which it is composed ; or from the charge 
of vulgarity and bad taste, except the literalness with which its parts 


are borrowed from Roman examples, and the small niiml:)er of them 
which make np the whole design. 

It must always be a subject of infinite regret that so nol)le an 
enterprise as the erection of this 'church should have been intrusted to 
a man so little competent to the task as the Chevalier de Montf^rrand 
seems to have been. With so lavish an expenditure and such noble 
materials placed at his disposal, any man who had carefully studied 
the works of previous architects ought to have benefited by their ex- 
perieuce ; and with a little common sense, even without genius, might 
have produced the most beautiful cathedral in Eui'ope. As it is, a 
great opportunity has been lost, and, in spite of its splendour, St. Isaac's 
is at best a grand, but a cold and unsatisfactory failure. Not only is 
there less poetry, but there is less constructive skill shown in the 
design of this church than that of any other of the great domical 
churches of Europe. It is impossible to conceive a building carried 
out with less thought, or less appreciation of the l)eauties of the style 
in which the architect was called upon to design it. 

It would be a fair morning's work for an architect of ordinary 
ability to sketch out the four fa9ades of this great building ; and there 
certainly is not a week's thought in the whole design, from the pave- 
ment to the cross on the top of the dome. And he must be a greater 
genius than the ^\■orld has yet seen whose passing thoughts are worth 
cue thousandth part of the money that has been spent on them here. 
At the same time there is scarcely a single constructor of ordinary 
experience who would not have put together the materials placed at 
his disposal far more skilfully and economically than has beeu done 
by the Chevalier de Montferrand ; who, considering the opportunities, 
can perhaps lay claim to the unenviable distinction of ha\'ing l)een 
the author of the greatest architectural failure in modern times. 




There is no city in Europe Avhicli more tnilj deserves to be called 
a city of palaces than St. Petersbnrg-h — not even excepting Paris : for 
though that city may be infinitely richer in architectural beauties, the 
true expression of Paris is more Civic and Domestic than Palatial ; 
while 8t. Petersburgh not only contains someL half-dozen of imperial 
residences, or palaces properly so called, but many of the residences 
of her grand-dukes and nol)les are fairly entitled to that appellation ; 
more than this, all her institutions and public establishments, down 
even to the barracks of the guards, are designed on a scale of magnifi- 
cence not found elsewhere ; and they are ornamented as only palaces 
are, in other cities. It is true that many — indeed most of tliese — are 
only of brick, with ornaments of stucco : and the meanness of material 
detracts most seriously from the grandeur of effect when looked closely 
into, but the general result is imposing ; while so large a mass of im- 
portant and ornamental buildings being collected together, gives to 
the city an air of grandeur not seen elsewhere ; and, thougli the details 
may be cavilled at, the general effect is unquestionably grand and 

The principal palace of St. Petersburgh. as well as the oldest — for 
the residence of Peter the Great hardly deserves that name— is that 
known as the Winter Palace, built by the Empress Elizabeth from the 
designs of Rastrelli, and commenced in the year 1754. The two 
principal halls — that known as St. George's, and the White Hall — 
were added by Guarenghi, and the whole of the interior has been 
remodelled and refitted after the fire in 18o7 ; which seems to have 
gutted the building, but unfortunately did not damage the outer Avails 
to such an extent as to require their being pulled down, and the whole 
to be rebuilt from the foundations. 

The principal facade, towards the river, measures 731 ft. in 
length ; while the depth of the palace, north and south, is 584 ft., 
and it is thus considerably larger than the Louvre. Internally, it 
encloses a rectangular court of somewhat broken outline, but gene- 
rally 385 ft. east and west by 300 ft. north and south ; which is less 



than tliat of the Louvre, in consequence of the buildings covering 
a much greater area of ground than in the Parisian example. 

With these dimensions, in such a situation, and with the amount 
of ornament lavished upon it, this ought to have been one of the most 
beautiful palaces of Europe ; but the details are so painfully bad, that 
the effect is entirely thrown away ; and a man of taste recoils in 
horror from such a piece of barbarous magnificence. 

The two upper storeys are adorned with an Order meant for 
Corinthian, but so badly drawn and profiled that it may be anything. 
The architrave is broken into a curve over every window, and the 


Portion of the Fagade of the Winter Palace, St. Pettrsburgh. 

cornice is also treated in the same manner occasionally ; over this are 
pediments, — not connected with the cornice, — and the whole is 
crowned with vases, statues, and rococo ornaments of various sorts. 

The basement has also an Order called Ionic, but, running through 
only one storey, is smaller of course than the other. Yet the large 
columns occasionally stand on the heads of the smaller, though occa- 
sionally, too, they avoid them in a manner which is almost ludicrous. 
Add to this that the dressings of the windows are of the most 
grotesque and gingerbread character, and it may be understood how 
bad the taste is which pervades this palace. 

The palace of Zarco Zelo, about fifteen miles south of St. Peters- 

Chap. II. 



l)ur2;li, on the road to Moscow, is another example of the same class. 
With a facade 858 ft. in extent, and nearly 7() ft. in height, most 
richly ornamented, it is difficnlt to understand how it should be so 
wholly detestable as it is ; but with all its pretensions it can hardly 
be considered as more than a great ])arrack, decked out in the tawdry 
finery of the style of Louis XIV. 

The palace of the Hermitage, Ijuilt by a German of the name of 
Volckner for Catherine II., as an adjunct to the Winter Palace, cer- 
tainly avoided most of the defects of its more ambitious neighlxtur, but 
rather erred by falling into the opposite extreme of tameness and com- 
monplace. It is now, however, being pulled down to make way for 
the Palace des Beaux Arts, erecting from the designs of Klenze, 
referred to further on. 

265. Plan of the Central Block of the Palace of the Grand Duke Michael, St. Petersburgh. 

The Tauride Palace, erected by Volkoff, apparently in imitation of 
the Trianon at Versailles, is a great straggling one-storeyed building, 
with as little meaning, and without the elegance of its prototype. It 
is now deserted as an imperial residence ; and the Palace of Paul I. is 
turned into an engineer's school, though really deserving a l)etter fate. 
It is a square building 340 ft. by 378 ft., with an octagonal court in the 
centre ; and great ingenuity is shown in the mode in which the external 
and internal lines are fitted to one another, giving the internal arrange- 
ments a degree of variety so seldom found in the ordinary rectangular 
palaces of Europe. Some of the rooms, too, are richly and even beauti- 
fully adorned ; and the architecture of the whole, if not of the highest 
class, is at least pleasing and reasonable. 

Though the Palace of the Archduke Michael cannot rival the 
Imperial Palace in extent, yet it is by far the most beautiful and 
elegant structure of its class in St. Petersburgh. It was commenced in 
the year 1820, from designs by the Italian, Rossi. By relegating 



all the offices and domestic l)iiildings to the wino's, which cover a 
greater extent of surface than the main body, the palace acquires 
a stately and monumental appearance, sometimes seen in a club or 
edifice wholly devoted to festal purposes, but seldom found in a 

The central block, 3G4 ft. wide, with a depth of IGS, and a height 
of 87 from the ground to the top of the pediment, is divided prac- 
tically into two storeys : the lower, 22 ft. in height, elegantly and 
appropriately rusticated ; the upper, ornamented with a very beautiful 
Corinthian Order, is 42 ft. in height. On the garden front the central 
colonnade of tweh'e pillars stands free, as in the (larde Meuble of the 
Place de la Concorde, Paris ; but more beautiful than that, inasmuch 
as the basement is far better proportioned, and there is only one range 
of windows under them, while the wings are much more important in 
the northern example ; and the columns in these, being semi -attached, 
give a solidity to the external parts that supports most effectively and 
pleasingly the more open design of the centre. Indeed, taken alto- 

20fi. Elevation, Garden Front of the Palace of tbe Grdnd Duke Michael. Same Scale as Plan. 

gether, the Michaeloffsky Palace may be considered as one of the most 
successful designs of its class in modern Europe. It may be a question 
if too much is not sacrificed to the Order, and whether a more sub- 
ordinate employment of it would not have produced a better effect ; 
Imt if employed at all, it is a great triumph to its designer to have 
used it so correctly and so successfully as he has done here. The 
internal arrangements of the palace are on a scale corresponding with 
the magnificence of the exterior. The entrance-hall, containing the 
great staircase, is a square a]»artment, 80 ft. each way, the whole 
height of the building, and leads to a suite of apai'tments not prosaic- 
ally like one another, but, though varied in form and position, of equal 
and sustained mas-nificence. 

As before remarked, it is singularly indicative of the purpose which 
Peter the Great had in view, that the Dockyard should occupy the 
very centre of the town, standing between the Palace and the Senate 
House ; but still more singular that the talents of a Eussian architect 

■Chap. II. 



should lia\"e been able to convert the utilitarian building of an arsenal 
into an architectural monument worthy of the prominent position this 
building occupies. 

The principal fa9ade of the "Admiralty," as it is improperly 
termed, measures 1330 ft. ; the returns towards the river, ,532 ; and 
the average height about GO ft. It would not be easy to ])ropose 
dimensions which it would be so difficult to treat without monotony, 
or without inappropriate littleness, as these ; but the task has been 
performed with singular success by Zucliaroff, the architect employed. 
The centre of the longer face is occupied by a square block, pierced by 

267, Portion of the lateral Fa^ide of the Admiralty, St. Petersburgh. 

the central archway, but without pillars. It is surmounted by a 
square cupola — if such a term is admissible — crowned by a tall Russian 
spire reaching a height of 240 ft. On either side of the entrance, for 
a distance of 250 it., the building is only two storeys high, and pierced 
with only eleven windows in each storey, of remarkably bold design. 
Beyond these are two wings, each composed of three bold Doric porti- 
1 coes, the central one of twelve, and the two lateral ones of six columns 
1 each — the only defect of these being that there are two storeys of 
windows under each of these porticoes : and one cannot help regret- 
ting that the pillars were not used where the building was only two 


storeys, and the portion three storeys high placed towards the centre, 
where a comparative weakness would not have been felt. 

The retnrns are similar in composition to the long'er face, and 
eqnally snccessful. The whole is so much of a piece, so bold, and so 
free from littleness or bad taste, that, for a building of its class, it may 
challenge comparison with anything existing in Europe, or indeed in 
the world. 

On the other side of the Neva, opposite to the "Admiralty," stands 
the Bourse, which is also a successful design, though not to be com- 
pared with the other. It consists of a hall 157 ft. long by 82 ft. wide, 
lighted from the roof, and from a bold semicircular window at each 
end. Around this hall are arranged three storeys of chandlers, devoted 
to the various purposes of the bailding. Eound the outside is a peri- 
style of ten columns on the fronts, and fourteen on the flanks, count- 
ing those of the angle twice ; but they do not reach the roof, or 
attempt to hide it ; and on the whole, though similar in conception, 
and designed by a Frenchman (Thomond), the l)uilding is far l)etter 
and more successful in every respect than the Paris Bourse : standing, 
as it does, on an angle between two rivers, it makes up, with its 
accompaniments, a very beautiful architectural group. 

■ By far the greater number of the remaining buildings of St. Peters- 
burgh are designed on the same principles as those on which we design 
Regent's Park Terraces, or Marinas at our seaside watering-places. 
They almost invariably have a basement storey, rusticated according 
to certain received patterns, and, above this, two storeys of equal 
dimensions, adorned with a portico in the centre, of six, eight, or 
twelve pillars standing on the basement, and running through the 
two upper storeys. On either side of this there is a plain space, broken 
only by windows, and at each end a portico similar to that in the 
centre, but having two pillars less in extent. Nothing can be easier 
than to design buildings according to this recipe, the result of which 
is undoubtedly imposing and effective at first sight ; but no one ever 
returns to such a building a second time to try and read the thoughts 
of the architect who designed it, to imbue himself with his principles. 
No one ever dreams of revisiting these flat and monotonous masses at 
various periods of the day, or under different atmospheric changes, to 
study tiiose effects of light and shade which render a truly thoughtful 
building an ever-varying scene of beauty — one the beholder ne\'er can 
be sure he has wholly seen, and regarding which he is never satisfied 
that he has mastered all the depths of thought which pervaded the 
setting of every stone. 

Notwithstanding this it cannot be denied that such a l)uilding as 
the Etat Major is a noble and imposing pile. It is the joint produc- 
tion of Rossi and G-uarenghi ; and has an immense recessed amphi- 
theatrical curve in its middle, in the centre of which is an archway 

Chap. II. RUSSIA : SECULAR. 273 

Go ft. in diameter, and Go ft. in height. It extends more than 1200 ft., 
measured along the chord of the arc, and with a height of 76 ft. 
throughout ; while it may be added that, though there is no very great 
amount of genius, there is also no symptom of vulgarity or bad taste 
in the design. With such dimensions as these, a building can hardly fail 
to be a grand and imposing pile ; but the merit, such as it is, is due to 
the sovereign who ordered its erection, and not to the architect who 
designed it. 

The same remarks apply to the Institution des Demoiselles Nobles 
by Guarenghi ; that of Military Orphans ; the Barracks of the " Che- 
valier Gardes ; " and of the various corps of Guards and Cadets — all 
gigantic piles of l)rick and stucco, designed with a certain grandeur of 
conception, but executed with the most commonplace details ; and, 
though all contributing to the magnificence of the city they adorn, 
none of them worthy of commendation as works of Art. 

■ The Academy of Beaux Arts, designed by a Russian architect 
(Kokorin), is a square, 4G0 ft. by 40G ft., with the usual porticoed 
fagade externally, but possessing internally a circular courtyard of 
considerable beauty. The Library, also by a Russian (Tokoloff), is 
an elegant building in the style of our Adams ; l:)ut its most wonderful 
characteristic is that an edifice 2i^)2 ft. long, by 56 ft. Avide, can be 
made to contain upwards of 400,000 volumes, besides a large collection 
of manuscripts, reading-rooms, &c. We could not put half that number 
into one of the same cubic contents. 

r)f the smaller buildings, perhaps the Medical School, by Porta, is 
the most elegant. Nowhere, except in the Archduke Michael's Palace, 
are the Orders used aa i :li such propriety. 

The " Riding Houses " are a feature which, if not peculiar to 
Russian Architecture, have at least, owing to the peculiarities of the 
climate, been carried to a greater extent there than anywhere else. 
The great Riding House at Moscow was long famous all over Europe 
for the Avidth of the span of its roof, and the mechanical ingenuity 
shown in its construction. The span of the original roof was to have 
been 235 ft.,^ but it is very doubtful if it was ever attempted to carry 
it out, and a less ambitious design was afterwards adopted. Guaren- 
ghi's Riding House at St. Petersburgh is only 86 ft. span, and is more 
remarkable for a very beautiful Doric portico of eight columns at one 
end, and the general purity and elegance of the design of the whole, 
than for its mechanical ingenuity. That of the 2nd Corps of Cadets, 
by an architect of the name of Charlemagne, though rather according 
to the usual recipe, still, from being only one storey in height, is 
among the most pleasing fagades in the capital. 

' Five feet It ss than tlie sixan of tlie roof of tlie St. Pancras Station of the Blidlaud 



Besides the buildings just enumerated, the Bank, the Foreio-n 
Office, and the War Office, each possess some peculiarity of design, or 
some different arrangement of their pillars, which is more or less effec- 
tive, but which it is almost impossible to explain without drawings : 
and none of them certainly are worthy of a place among the illustra- 
tions to be selected for such a work as this. They are, in fact, all of 
the same type of machine-made designs, displaying a certain amount 
of taste, and a certain appreciation of the beauties of Classical Art, 
but never rising to originahty, and never displaying that amount of 
thought indispensable to adapt the ornaments to the essential featm'es 
of the building to which they are applied ; and without which, it need 
hardly be repeated, success in architectural design is nearly, if not 
wholly, impossible. 

It is rather singular that among all the buildings of St. Peters- 
burgh there is not one that can he called " astylar." Everywhere and 
in every one we find Corinthian, Ionic, or Doric columns, while there 
is scarcely a single instance where they are wanted, either for the 
construction or the convenience of the building to which they are 
attached ; while, if in any city in the world their presence could be 
dispensed with, it is in one situated in such a latitude. In the climate 
of Russia a bold, plain, massive facade, depending on its breaks for 
its effect, and on the grouping and dressings of its openings for its 
ornament, would be infinitely more appropriate ; and a bold, deep 
cornicione, in such a northern climate, at aU seasons, would be the 
most artistic as well as the most appropriate termination to a fa§ade. 

It is strange that, where a style is so essentially imported and so 
exotic, no one ever thought of Florence or of Rome : and that Vicenza 
and Paris should alone have furnished to St. Petersburgh models of 
things which even these cities had only obtained at second hand.^ 

' I have been told by those who have 
seen them, that tlie suite of apartments 
destined for public fejtivities wliich have 
recently been erected in the new Palace 
of the Kremlhi, at Moscow, surpasses 

been unable to obtain any drawings or 
dimensions that would enable me to judge 
how far tliis description is correct. In so 
far as the new palace can be judged of 
from photographs, it has, externMlly, no 

anything of the same kind in Europe for j pretensions to architecturnl excellence of 
splendour and extent. I have, however, any sort. 




The new Museum of St. Petersburg-h is the only important building 
which has yet been erected in Russia in the new Revival style of 
Architecture. It is of course by a foreigner ; but this time no less a 
personage thaii the Baron Leo von Klenze of Munich. It seems that 
the Emperor Nicholas, in visiting that capital, in 1838, was so pleased 
\\itli what had been done there that he invited the Baron to St. Peters- 
burgh, and commissioned him to make designs for the new Palace of 
the Arts he proposed to substitute for the old Hermitage Galleries of 
Catherine IL 

The site chosen was one of the finest in the city, on the banks 
of the Neva, adjoining the Winter Palace on the eastward. The 
building, which is now completed, measures 480 ft. froui the river to 
the Million Street, and 350 ft. towards the river, di^'ided internally 
into two courts by the picture gallery that runs across it. One of 
these courts is partially occupied by the grand staircase, the other is a 
void. Externally, each of the four faces differs somevrhat in compo- 
sition, though all treated with the same care. Where it has two 
storeys, it reaches 6(1 ft. in height ; where three, it attains 84 ft. to 
the top of the balustrade or coping. In the centre of the longer faces 
the apex of the pediment is 98 ft. from the pavement. These dimen- 
sions are quite sufficient for architectural effect, and it must be added 
that the building is wholly free from those falsehoods of design which 
ruin so many fine structures, especially those of this capital. The 
basement is plain and solid, the Order confined to the principal storey, 
and above this is only an attic, ornamented with antfe and pilasters. 
Each storey is complete in itself, and throughout there is that exqui- 
site finish and beauty of detail which characterises Greek Art, and 
which, within certain limits, the Munich architects have learned to 
apply with such dexterity. The faults of design arise from the 
trammels which the architect has thought it necessary to impose upon 
himself while designing in this style. The first is the painful want of 
projection in the cornices, and consequent flatness resulting from this 
defect ; especially in a three-storeyed building, with an Order belonging 
to one only. Wherever the Greeks used pillars, they stood free, and, 



Plan of the New Museum at St. Petersburgh. From Klenze's ' Description.' 

a shadow being obtained under the roof of the colonnade, a second 
was not required from the ujiper member of the entablature ; but in- 
modern Domestic Architecture the case is reversed, and if shadow is] 
not obtained from the cornice it is found nowhere. Another equally] 
absurd restriction is that the arch shall on no account be employed, 
though the Greeks did use arches, and with as much or more beauty 
than architraves. In this instance the architect was instructed toi 
incorporate in his new building a copy of the Loggie of Raphael at! 
Rome, Avhich formed part of the old Hermitage. To effect this he] 

Chap. III. 




had recourse to bracketed openings, shown in Woodcut No. 260, which, 
to say the least, are affected and ungraceful, and their employment here a 
mere piece of pedantry. The most ornamental fa9ade is — :is it should be 
— that towards the river, where the effect, how- 

U § m 1 \ i I J 

ever, is very much marred by the glazed attic 
being brought forward to the front, and running 
without a break over the open Loggie and piers 
of the storey below. Either it ought to have 
been set back altogether to the wall behind the 
Loggie, or the colonnade ought to have been 
continuous and unbroken. Considering that this 
is the northern face, where shadow is every- 
thing, the best plan of treating it would have 
been to place a vase or statue over each pillar, 
and to break the attic back over each division. 
It must be confessed that the projections would 
have looked somewhat unmeaning, but that would have been of minor 
importance ; and anything is preferable to a thin glazed attic with five 
openings over three, with a roof so thin as to puzzle one to find out how 
it is constructed, and absolutely no projection for shadow. 

Internally, the picture gallery crossing the court is arranged like 

269. Pseudo- Arched Wirdow, 
Museum at St. Peter&faurgb. 

70 80 90 lOO f 

Elevcition of a portion of the River Front, New Museum, St. Petersburgh. 

that at Munich — a great gallery in the centre — cabinets for small 
pictures on one side, and a corridor of communication on the other ; — 
but this has additional meaning from the great staircase leaduig to it. 
The picture galleries are continued along the western face, and the 
whole is arranged, not only with great judgment and artistic effect, 
but also with regard to convenience. 

Great complaints are made of want of light in some of the apart- 
ments ; and it is easy to see that this must be the case, especially in 


the basemeut. This would be otherwise if the building stood in sunny 
'Greece ; but it was unpardonable to forget that it was designed for the 
banks of the Neva. 

In spite of these defects, the new JMuseum is of aU the buildings of 
St. Petersburgh the one which the artist will oftenest recur to, and from 
the study of which he is more likely to improve his taste than from 
any other in the capital. There is nuich in its design, in its arrange- 
ments, and in its details, which is very beautiful, and one can only 
regret that a little affectation and pedantry prevented it from being 
the really satisfactory building it otherwise might so easily have been 

Besides this attempt to introduce the pure Grecian style on the 
banks of the Neva, the Kussians have lately followed the example of 
other European nations in attempts to reproduce their Mediajval style 
for ecclesiastical purposes. Already one important church has been 
erected at Kieff, several in Moscow and at Novogorod, one at Neu 
Georgiesk, and even in St. Petersburgh this retrograde mo^-ement is 
rapidly becoming important. The architects have, in fact, reached that 
stage to which we had advanced before Pugin taught us the value of 
absolute falsehood ; and although no one would now be deceived, and 
mistake a modern Muscovite church for an old one, there can be little 
doubt but that in the course of a few years they will l)e able to forge 
as perfectly as either English or French architects. 

It is not, however, only at home that this movement is progressing, 
but wherever the Kussians settle abroad they are proud to declare their 
distinctive nationality. Already at Wiesbaden they have built a church 
with its five bulbous domes and queer pendants over the doorways, 
so like the real thing that it would hardly catch the eye at Kieff or 

Recently, too, they have completed a still more ambitious edifice 
in Paris. When first a glimpse of it is caught from near the Arc de 
I'Etoile, it looks like the extravagant decoration of some Parisian 
Vauxhall : but when examined close, we are not astonished to learn 
that it has really cost the 52,000/. which are said to have been lavished 
upon it, nor if told that it is, to the Russian mind, a true example of 
the perfection of Ecclesiastical Architecture. This time the type has 
not been the usual five-domed church, but rather the exceptional 
Vasili Blanskenoy at Moscow.^ As now seen in all the freshness of its 
staring colours and barbarous forms, it looks more like the pagoda of 
some Indian or Mexican tribe than the place of worship of a civilised 
people ; and if the Russians really wish to impress "Western Europe 
with an idea that they too have progressed like other nations, they 

* ' History of Architecture,' Woodcut No. 914. 

Chap. III. 



View of the New Russian Church, Paris. From a Photograph. 

would clo Avell to repress their Tartar feelings, and keep their Mus- 
covite forms of Art for the sympathies and admiration of their own 

Among- the minor monuments of the Russian capital, the most re- 
markable is the pedestal of the statue of Peter the Great ; — a single block 
of stone, weighing, it is said, 1500 tons, and which, with very slight aid 



Book YIL 

from the chisel, forms one of the best pedestals for a statue in the world. 
Its effect is, however, very much lost by being placed in so immense a 
space as that in which it now stands, and where there are no objects 
to give a true scale of its size. In a courtyard or smaller piazza of 
any sort, its dimensions would be ten times more effective. 

Another monument of the same class is the monolithic column 
erected to the memory of the Emperor Alexander by his successor. 
It is the finest monolithic shaft erected in modern times, being rather 
more than 80 ft. in length, with a diameter of nearly 10 ft. The 
original length of the block when quarried was 102 ft., but the 
Chevalier de Montferrand cut off some 20 ft., not because it was either 
too long or too heavy to raise, but because without this al)breviation 
its proportions would not have been those of a correct Roman Doric 
shaft ! "Worthy of the architect of St. Isaac's ! A man with a spark 
of originality or genius would have made it a polygon, or designed a 
capital to suit any diameter. There were fifty ways in which the 
difficulty could have been got over ; but this noble monolith was 
truncated in deference to the proportion of pillars which the Romans 
had invented and used for totally different purposes.^ Such rules also 
decide the fate of every modern building ; and with such fetters as these 
the genius of modern artists is weighed to the dust. 

It requires very little knowledge of the history of Architecture in 
modern times to feel assured that the Russians will never attain to 
anything great or good in Art by either of the processes by which 
they have hitherto attempted it. They never will create a style 
suitable to their wants by employing second-class foreign artists to 
repeat on the shores of the Neva designs only appropriate to those 
of the Seine or the Tiber. Still less are they hkely to succeed by 
encouraging native aspirants to reproduce in all its details the style 
of the Middle Ages, though no doubt that has a certain degree of 
fitness, and is interesting from its archaeological value. All the 
examples, however, are on so small a scale as hardly to come within 
the definition of • architectural monuments ; and the ornaments applied 
to them are so rude and so clumsy that not one is Avorthy of being 
repeated, still less of being magnified so as to make an old Russian 
chapel or its details suited to the extended wants of modern times. 

There is still, however, one path that seems open to the Russian 
architects, and which, if followed steadily, might lead to the most 
satisfactory results. St. Sophia, at Constantinople, is practically the 
parent chm-ch of the Russian faith ; and the interior of St. Sophia is 

' Even as it now stands, it is said to 
liave cost more than 400,000?. ; and as it 
weighs about 400 tons, it cost nearly lOOOZ. 
per ton. The raising of the monolith and 
placing it upright was celebrated as a 

triumph of modern mechanical skill ; it 
ma)' therefore be mintioned that each of 
the tubes of the Menai Bridge weighed, 
as raised, about 2000 tons. 


probably the most l)eautiful yet erected for the performance of the 
Christian ritnaL With the experience we have since acquired, it 
could easily be improved, and a third or fourth edition of this church, 
on either a larger or smaller scale, but carried out with a well-defined 
aim of producing the best possible interior for a Christian church, 
might and ought to result in something more perfect and more beau- 
tiful than anything of its class the world has yet seen.^ St, Sophia 
has another advantage for such a purpose, — it has no external decora- 
tive arrangements ; and the architect is therefore left, in reproducing 
it, to apply \vhatever he thinks most elegant or most appropriate. It 
could easily be carried out with five domes externally, or any other 
more appropriate Russian peculiarity. There is, in fact, a new field of 
discovery in this direction that might lead to the happiest results, if 
the Russians are capable of availing themselves of it. They certainly 
have been following a totally mistaken path ever since the intro- 
duction of the Renaissance styles, with the most unsatisfactory results. 
It therefore remains for them to show whether this has been only a 
passing delusion, or whether they are really capable of anything more 
original or more artistic than has been formed by their works up to the 
present time. 

* Even the Turks, in designing their mosques, have done wonders with this 
model : why should not the Russians be equally successful in applying its forms to 
their churches, for which they were originally invented? 




[The peculiar constitution of society in the vast Russian empire, and 
its unfavourable geographical position, do not yet admit of the advance 
of Art, even in the chief cities, on anything like a parallel line with its 
progress in the other important countries of Europe. Architecture in 
recent years has not assumed any novel attitude in St. Petersburgh or 
Moscow ; fairly good Italian has been the rule for the greater works, 
and the local colour which has not unfrequently come to be introduced 
has been, as in previous times, nothing more than the assertion of a 
spirit of semi-Oriental magniloquence which is very natural in the 
circumstances. The spread of the new principle which is identified 
with the cultivation of popular Art has, however, reached Russia in a 
peculiar way, and is considered to be making satisfactory progress- 
The accomplished lady who shares the throne of Alexander the Third 
is said to have been the promoter of the change. Having been trained 
in Art by her father — who, before he became King of Denmark, was a 
professional artist — the Empress has been able to see, and to persuade 
her Consort, that the social and indeed political value of the artistic life 
of a nation is no small matter ; and during the last twenty years, 
accordingly, the Imperial pair have devoted a fair share of their leisure 
and their private means to the accumulation of museums of academical 
and industrial art, which already almost fill the various palaces at their 
command. Schools of Decorative Art have also been established' ; and 
very recently a patriotic connoisseur has manifested his enlightened 
liberality by bequeathing, for the special purpose of promoting industrial 
craftsmanship in the Empire, the munificent sum of a million in English 
money, whidi, it is understood, will to some extent be devoted to 
the establishment of a central school of the Decorative Arts, whereby to 
combine together the j^rovincial schools and museums for properly 
organised operations. A new Society of Artists has also been recently 
founded under the patronage of the Czar and Czarina, which, although 
it may be discouraged by the old-fashioned Academy of Fine Arts at 
St. Petersburgh, will probably effect much good, especially as it not only 
takes up liberal ground generally, but exerts itself in the special direction 


of promoting roving- exhibitions for the benefit of the provincial towns. 
All this, if correctly reported, may be considered to constitute a particu- 
larly interesting illustration of the influence of the movement of 1851, 
and of the incalculable value that may be attributed to the civilising 
influence of popular art. Even in the frost-bound North the artist will 
be a king when the soldier's occupation's gone. — Ed.] 





There is perhaps no circumstance connected with the history of the 
Renaissance styles of Architecture so remarkable as the universality 
of theu' extension, for not only have they conquered and retained 
possession of Europe for the last three centuries, but they have now 
attained to undisputed sway on the Bosphorus, have nearly obliterated 
all the native styles of India, and may eventually extend into China 
and Japan. In addition to theii' Eastern conquests, the whole of 
the New World naturally fell under their sway ; for, as there was 
not in these countries any original style to displace, the European 
colonists introduced, as a matter of course, the forms of Art they were 
in the habit of employing in their own homes. So complete, indeed, 
has this extension been, that, if we except the yet uninfluenced 
countries of China and Japan, it is not, perhaps, too much to assert 
that nine-tenths of the civilised inhabitants of the globe employ those 
styles of Architecture which were revived in Europe in the fifteenth 
century, or styles growing out of these, but carried out on the mis- 
taken principles first introduced at that period. 

In the previous chapters of this volume the steps have been traced 
by which Italy, France, Spain, and England were gradually induced 
to adopt this fashion of Art ; it has been shown how it penetrated 
into Germany, Scandinavia, and Russia ; and it has also been attempted 
to elucidate the causes which led to this strange revolution in the arts 
of design. It will not be necessary again to allude to these investi- 
gations in order to explain the reasons or the mode of its introduction 
in the East, as these are simple in the extreme, and lie on the surface ; 
the one great cause being the influence of a dominant race, and the 


natural desire on the part of the subject people to imitate the manners 
and adopt the arts of the conquering strangers. It is so natural that 
this should be the case, that it is hardly necessary to insist more fully 
upon the point. But it requires some knowledge of the unsympa- 
thising intolerance wliich the Spaniards and the Portuguese possess in 
common with the Anglo-Sxon races, to understand why they should 
insist on carrying with them wherever they go the habits and customs 
of other and uncongenial cHmes ; and it is also indispensable to bear 
in mind how little real sympathy any of these colonising races had 
with Art in any of its forms, in order to appreciate the contempt in 
which they have always held the arts of the conquered people, and 
the destruction of all that is beautiful which has followed their foot- 
steps wherever they have gone. 

With the knowledge we possess of the tastes of our countrymen, it 
is no matter of wonder that they should have carried with them their 
great principle of getting the greatest possible amount of accommoda- 
tion at the least possible expense — though at first sight it does appear 
strange, that people so sensitively alive as the Eastern nations have 
shown themselves to all the refinements of Art, should at once have 
abandoned their own, to follow our fashions. AVhen, however, we find 
the surtout-coat and tight-fitting garments of the West in possession 
of the streets of Constantinople, superseding their own beautiful cos- 
tume, we ought not to be surprised at the " Orders " being introduced 
simultaneously : and when native princes in India clothed their armies 
so as to make them caricatures of European infantry, it was impossible 
that they should escape the architectural contagion also. It may be 
sad, but it is only too true, that wherever the round hat of the 
European is seen, there the " Orders " follow eventually, though, for 
some climates and for some purposes, the one is just as migraceful and 
unsuitable as the other. 

Had the French ever colonised the East, their artistic instincts 
might have led to a different result ; but as the inartistic races of 
mankind seem the only people capable of colonisation, we must be 
content with the facts as they stand, and can only record the progress 
of the flood-tide of bad Art as we find it. 




In the year 1497,^ the Portuguese, under Vasco de Gama, first 
passed the Cape of Good Hope, and the following season landed at 
CaUcut, in Malabar. In 1510, Albuquerque besieged and took Goa, 
and established it as the capital of the Portuguese possessions in India. 
For more than a century it continued to be the principal seat of their 
power, and became, in consequence, the most important and most 
prosperous of the European cities of the East. During this period it 
was visited and rendered illustrious by the teaching of St. Francis 
Xavier, one of the noblest and most devoted apostles of the Gospel in 
the East. It was also during this period of prosperity that those 
churches and convents w^ere erected which now alone remain to mark 
the site of the deserted city, and entitle it to notice in a history of 

Either in consequence of the increased size of the vessels used at 
the present day, or because of the silting-up of the river in front of the 
to^vn, the seat of Government was moved more than a century ago to 
Panjim, lower downi the river, and the old capital left in its present 
state of desolation. It is still, however, the nominal seat of the bishop 
and the religious capital of Portuguese India, and its churches are 
still kept in a tolerable state of repair, though the town does not 
possess a single secular habitation beyond the wretched huts of a few 
native settlers. 

Of the churches, five are of the first class — buildings from 300 to 
400 ft. in length, with naves 45 and 50 ft. wide, and with aisles, 
transepts, and all the accompaniments to be found in Cinquecento 
cathedrals of important cities in Europe ; but, without any exception, 
they are in a style of Art entirely destructive of any effect they might 
produce, either from their dimensions or the materials of which they 
are composed. The Portuguese, it appears, brought no architects 
with them to India, and the priests, to whom the superintendence of 
these buildings seems to have been intrusted, were probably better 
versed in the Legenda Aurea than in the works of Vitruvius — at least, 

' Five years after the fall of Granada. 


their ignorance of the Orders, and of the principles of Classic design, 
produced the most wonderful effects, and certainly not with a tendency 
towards either purity or beauty. To this we must add, that the 
material is the coarse laterite rock on which they stand, and neces- 
sarily covered with plaster ; all the details have been moulded by 
native artificers, more ignorant, of course, than their employers ; 
while three centuries of white and yellow wash have ong ago oblite- 
rated any sharpness or cleverness of execution they may once have 
possessed. It will be easily understood that, from all these causes 
comljined, a result has been produced as tasteless and as unsatisfactory 
as can well be conceived. 

Perhaps the church in Europe most like those at Goa is that of 
St. Michael, at Muuich (Woodcut No. 221). They possess the same 
vastuess and the same air of grandeur, but the same painful jumble 
of ill-designed details and incongruous parts which mar the effect of 
that otherwise nol)le church. 

The cloisters attached to these churches are generally more pleasing 
objects. An arcaded court, in a hot climate, must be very defective in 
design if it fails altogether in architectural effect ; and some of those 
at Goa are really rich in ornament, being copied from such arcades as 
those of the Lupiana, for instance (Woodcut No. 89) ; but they, too, 
have lost much of their original effect from the repeated coats of 
whitewash with which they have been covered. 

The smaller churclies, tlie Arsenal, and some remains of public 
buildings now deserted, wliich still exist in Goa, all show the same 
total want of artistic treatment which marks the design of the greater 
churches. By what practically amounts almost to a reductio ad ahsurdum, 
they prove the difficulty of producing a satisfactory design in this style 
without a rigid adherence to tlie original types, or without a know- 
ledge of constructive propriety, and an elegance of taste, which are not 
to be looked for among the amateur architects of remote colonies. 

At Macao, which only fell into the hands of the Portuguese in 
1586, they showed even less taste than at Goa. The former city 
never was so rich or so important as the latter, and never acquired 
any religious sanctity. Its only really important architectural featm'e 
is the facade of the Jesuits' church. The design for this was evi- 
dently procured from Europe, and is characterised by the exuberant 
richness of detail which that society have always displayed in their 
churches ; Vmt in this instance the taste of the whole design is better 
and purer than usual, and the effect is considerably heightened by the 
whole being executed in granite, with a neatness and precision which 
only the Chinese are capable of attaining. It is now in ruins, and the 
sombre grey tint that pervades the whole, combined with the singu- 
larity of finding such a fagade in such a locaUty, renders it one of the 


most pleasing' fragments of Church Architecture in the East ; and it 
is the only building- in Macao of its class that is worthy of minute 
notice in an architectural point of view. 

At Bombay nothing remained of the Portuguese but the fortifica- 
tions, which have recently heen pulled down ; nor have any buildings 
survived at Demaun or Calicut which are worthy of notice. From 
the few specimens of Art with which they have adorned their own 
country, in Europe, this should not excite surprise ; on the contrary, 
the wonder is that they should have done so much as we find at Goa, 
rather than that they should have done it so badly ; and we might 
have expected to find even fewer buildings in the remote factories 
which they occupied during the brief period of their dominant career 
in the East. 




The Spaniards have done far less, in an architectural sense, at 
Manilla than even the Portuguese at Macao, and, as might be expected, 
the Dutch have done very little in their settlements. Their churches, 
■wliich are few and far between, are of the worst class of meeting-- 
house architecture, and Batavia does not contain one single civil 
edifice of any architectural importance. 

The only exception I know to these somewhat sweeping assertions 
is curious and characteristic. The earher settlers in India felt them- 
selves so completely expatriated and cut off from intercourse with 
Europe, that they adopted many of the habits and feelings of the 
people among whom they were dweUing. Among other pecuharities 
they seem to have been seized with a mania for sepulchral magni- 
ficence : and at Ahmedabad, Surat, and other early settlements on the 
West Coast, we find Dutch and English tombs of the 17th century 
which rival in dimensions and are similar in form to those of the 
lilahommedan princes of the day. It is true, when closely looked into, 
their details will not bear examination. Their builders had a notion 
that pillars should be round, and arches circular, and a hazy reminis- 
cence of the Orders ; but they could not draw them, and the natives 
could not realise, what was wanted from imperfect verbal instructions. 
The consequence is, we find domes supported on twelve pillars of no 
style whatever, and native details mixed with something which has 
no name, in a manner that is perplexing, though often picturesque. 
Being all in brickwork and stucco, most of them are now falling to 
ruin ; but Sir George Oxenden's (died 1668) is stiU kept in repair, and 
would make a sensation in Kensal Green ; but some of the others, 
especially the older ones, are in better taste, and approach more 
nearly the native models from which they were all more or less 

Europeans were then a small and dependent community, and were 

content to copy the manners and arts of the natives, who were then 

superior in rank and in power. The process has been since then 

entirely reversed ; we are now in the position of the rulers of India in 

VOL. II. u 


those days, and the natives have unfortunately taken to copying us 
and our arts, as we adopted their habits and copied their arts when 
we first settled in their country. 

The French probably would have done better than the other 
colonists, if their dominion had lasted longer and been more stable ; 
but they never have been fairly settled in India so as to allow of 
any real development of their taste. Still, Chandernagore was, or 
was to have been, adorned with handsome public edifices, which, how- 
ever, do not now exist ; and though Pondicherry is one of the neatest 

272. Dutch Tombs, Surat— Sir Geo. Oxenden's on the left. From a Photograph. 

and best laid out cities in India, it has no important jtublic buildings, 
and, except the citadel (now destroyed), never seems to have had any. 
Church-building was not, of course, a luxury they were likely to 
indulge in, and, consequently, in none of their settlements are there 
any ecclesiastical edifices worthy of mention. 

The one point in common between these three nations and the 
Portuguese was that, wlien fairly settled as comnumities, wherever 
and whatever they built was in the so-called Italian style, excepting, 
of course, the early tombs just alluded to. All the windows and doors 
of their buildings have the usual dressing and pediments ; and where- 


ever a pillar is introduced, it was copied, or supposed to l)e, from 
Vignola, or some Italian text-work. Through theu' influence, the 
Orders became so far naturalised that they have been adopted every- 
where — as we shall presently see — by the nations in all those coun- 
tries in wliich Europeans have settled, to the almost entire supersession 
of the native styles of Art 




Owing to the greater extent of their dominion, and its longer 
duration, the Enghsh have built more in India than all the other 
European nations together ; and, probably owing to the late period at 
which most of their buildings have been executed, it may perhaps be 
said that the}' have built better ; but till after the first decade of this 
century their style was the same as that of the other nations men- 
tioned al)ove. About thirty years ago the Anglo-Indians passed 
through the Grecian-Doric style of Art. During its continuance a 
Town-hall was erected at Bombay, a Mint at Calcutta, a Palace at 
Morshedabrtd, and sundry smaller edifices in various parts of the 
country. In all these an enormous number of correct Doric pillars, 
copied from Stuart s ' Athens,' were built up as mere ornaments, and 
generally so as to obstruct ventilation, without keeping out the heat, 
and arranged in such a manner as to be as unlike a truly Grecian 
design as was possible with such correct details. 

Since that time the Gothic stage has been attained. It commenced 
with the Calcutta Cathedral, built in the Strawberry Hill form of 
Gothic Art, and is now being introduced in churches all over the land ; 
but these last are generally merely correct copies of parish churches in 
this country, and as such totally unsuited to the climate. 

If used with freedom and taste, no style might be better adapted 
for Indian use than Gothic ; but in order to apply it there, the aisles 
of a church must be placed outside, the tracery must be double and 
fitted with Venetians, and various changes in arrangement must be 
made which unfortunately the pm'ist cannot tolerate, and the conse- 
quence is, they are worse off for a style of church-building now than 
before the introduction of the Gothic style. 

■ The fact is, the Anglo-Indians have compressed into fifty years the 
experience we have spread over two centuries ; but they do not show 
more symptoms of approaching the common-sense stage of Art than has 
hitherto been apparent in the mother country, though Architecture 
(especially its domestic form) is so vitally important an element of 
existence in that climate, that, if they once make the discovery that 
common sense, guided by taste, is really the foundation of Architec- 


tural Art, it is possible that we may again be taught many things, as. 
we have been before, by the tasteful wisdonj of the far East. 


The Grovernment House at Calcutta is the principal edifice erected 
by the English in India during the first period indicated above. The 
idea of the design was copied from Keddlestone (Woodcut Xo. 192), 
and was a singularly happy one for the purpose. It consists of four 
detached portions appropriated to the private apartments, and joined 
by semicircular galleries to the central mass containing the state-rooms 
of the Palace — an arrangement combining convenience with perfect 
ventilation, and capable of being treated with very considerable archi- 
tectural effect ; all which has been fairly taken advantage of. The 
principal defect (as it now stands) is that of being too low ; but it 
must be borne in mind that when erected it stood alone, and the tall 
houses around, which dwarf it now, were all erected since. Its effect 
is also marred by the solecism of the Order running through two 
storeys, while standing on a low basement. If this might be tolerated 
in the centre, under the dome, it was inexcusable in the wings, Avhere 
it throws an air of falsity and straining after effect over what other- 
wise would be a very truthful design ; but, taken altogether, there aie 
few modern palaces of its class either more appropriate in design, or 
more effective in their architectural arrangement and play of light and 
shade, than this residence of the Governor-General of India. 

The Town-hall, situated near the Government House, is a building 
imposing from its mass and the simplicity of its outline, but is too 
commonplace in its design to produce the effect due to its other 
qualities. It contains two great halls, ranged one over the other, 
each lighted by a range of side windows ; and then, by the usual 
expedient of a Doric portico in the middle of each front, running 
through the two storeys, tries to look like a grand edifice without any 
floor in its centre. 

Of late years several very important public buildings have been 
erected in Calcutta, such as the ]\Iartiniere, the Metcalfe Hall, the 
Colleges, &c. ; but they are all according to the usual recipe of English 
public buildings — a portico of six or eight columns in the centre run- 
ning through the two or three storeys as the case may be : a lesser one 
on each end ; and a plain curtain with ranges of unadorned windows, 
connecting the larger with the lesser porticoes. Nothing can well 
be more unsuited to the climate, or more commonplace in design ; 
but it is the misfortune of Calcutta that her Architecture is done 
by amateurs — generally military engineers — who have never thought 
of the subject till called upon to act, and who fancy that a few hours' 
thought and a couple of days' drawing is sufficient to elaborate an 



important architectural design. It is scarcely necessary to add any 
criticism on the result ; for nothing either great or good was ever 
yet produced without far more labour and thought than have been 
expended on these erections. 

The churches in Calcutta are not more satisfactory than the other 
public buildings, except that the older examples, having no pretensions 
to being other than they are, please, in consequence, to the extent to 
wliich their dimensions and their ornamentation entitle them. They 
are merely square haUs, sometimes with ranges of pillars in their 
centre to support the roof, where the span is such as to require their 

Exterior View of the Cathedral at Calcutta. From Bishop Wilson's ' Life.' 

introduction, and with pillared porticoes outside to protect their w^alls 
and windows from the sun, and they generally have steeples of the 
form usually adopted in this country in the last century. 

The late Bishop Wilson was the first to intimate discontent with 
this state of things, and he determined, Hke some of his English 
brethren, to wipe the stain of Paganism from the Architecture of the 
Church. He determined therefore to erect a proper Gotliic Cathedral 
in the metropoHtan city. To carry this out, he chose as his architect 
the late Colonel Forbes, of the Bengal Engineers, a man of infinite 
talent, but who, like all his brother officers, fancied that Architecture 

Chap. III. 



luierior View of the Cathrdral :it falcutta. From Bishop Wilson's ■ Life.' 

was the simplest and most easily learnt of the Arts, instead of being 
one of the most difficult, and requiring the longest and most exclusive 
study. ^ As it was, the Bishop shared his delusion in. this respect, and 
they produced lietween them a building in a style such as has not been 
seen in this country since the Peace of Paris. 

The Cathedral consists of a large S(pmre hall without aisles or 

' Every one Icivws the story of the 
hostess of an evening musical party who, 
in despair at tlie absence of her " primo 
flauto,'' turned to one of lier ofuests, and 
asked him if he could play on the German 
flute : to which he n-plied that, never 
liaving tried, he did not know, but liad no 
objection to make the attempt now if tliey 
would bring liim an instrument. This 
appears ridicvilous, but it is not half so 
much so as attempting Architecture with- 
out long previous training. Any man 
with a good ear may teaeli liimself music, 
or, with a special feeling for colour or foi m, 
may acquire considerable proficiency in 
drawing or painting. Wiiat is principally 
required for music, painting, or sculpture, 
is an innate sestlietic faculty. The archi- 

tect must possess this also, but in addition 
to tiiis he must be a mathematician and a 
mechanic, he must possess a knowledge 
of construction and materials, he must 
know how most conveniently to provide 
for the purposes of his buildings, and how 
also to express them most artistically. 
He must, in short, have all the sesthetic 
feelings requiied for the exercise of other 
arts, but, in addition to this, a great deal 
more wiiich cannot bo acquired by in- 
tuition, but must be t ,e result of a life- 
long study. More than this, lie must 
know how to combine the technic with 
the sesthetic elements of his design with- 
out giving undue predominance to either. 
Is all this easy ? 


transepts. The roof is flat (or rather was, for it has been somewhat 
altered since), and supported by a diagonally-trussed beam, such as we 
use in railway stations. At one end is a porch called a narthex, but 
which, in fact, is a library ; and between it and the church a steeple of 
very commonplace design rises through the roof. 

The only ornament of the exterior is a range of lean buttresses, 
between which were tall windows filled with wooden tracery of the 
Perpendicular Order ; but these, instead of painted glass, are dis- 
figured with green painted Louvre boards to keep out the sun. We 
have done strange things in this country, but nothing quite so bad 
as that. It entirely fails as a Gothic reproduction ; for, as we per- 
fectly understand now, a few ill-drawn Gothic details are not in them- 
selves sufficient to entitle a building to be i-anked among the revivals 
of Medieval Art. The worst feature, however, is that of being 
entirely unsuited to the climate, having neither verandahs for shade, 
nor proper windows for ventilation ; nor do its arrangements satisfy 
any of the requirements of the ecclesiologist of the present day. 

The Fort Church is a better specimen of the art, but it is only a 
copy of the chapel in York Place, Edinburgh, and that is a copy from 
St. Mary's, Beverley ; and though it has deteriorated at each remove, 
and the details of the Calcutta Church would shock our present critical 
eyes, it was, at the time it was built, the best thing of its class that 
had been done in India. 

As mentioned above, several station churches have recently been 
erected, which might pass for English parish churches when seen at a 
distance ; but no architect has approached the problem of designing 
a church specially suited to the climate, though the freedom from 
trammels, and the immense variety of details in Gothic Art. lend 
themselves most easily to such a purpose in that climate. 

In so far as the system of ornamented construction is concerned, the 
Saracenic style is identical w^th the Gothic : both used pointed arches, 
clustered piers, vaulted roofs, and they claim other features in common. 
The most striking and specific difference is that the one uses domes 
where the other introduces spires ; but as in most cases these features 
are merely external ornaments, there is no reason why the architects 
in both styles should not adhere to their own peculiar forms, while 
adopting, w^hen expedient, the principles of the other. 

As the Saracenic has been so completely adapted to the climate, 
there seems no reason why the Gothic should not be so also : but it 
must be by thinking, not by copying, that this can be effected. Nine- 
tenths of the mechanical arrangements of our churches were introduced 
to guard ainst cold and the roughness of the climate, leaving one- 
tenth for ventilation or to avoid over-heating. In India exactly the 
reverse is the case : nine-tenths must be specially designed to protect 
the congregation from the heat, and very little attention need be paid to 


the dang-er of cold or storms. Seeing how perfectly the Saracenic 
style, which is so nearly identical, has met and conquered these 
difficulties, the same thing could now be done far more easily with 
the Gothic : but unfortunately it has not hitherto been looked at 
from this point of view, consequently none of our churches in India 
can lie considered as even moderately successful. Instead of setting 
their minds earnestly to the task, the Enghsh have been content to 
carry with them into India the strange creed of their native country, 
" that Archaeology is Architecture ; " and when they have set up an 
accurate model of some old church which adorns some rural village 
in the ]\Iidland Counties, they fondly fancy that they have satisfied 
all that is required of a true architect in designing a Protestant place 
of worship suited to a tropical climate and the refined exigencies of 
the nineteenth century. 

The most correct Gothic building yet erected in India is the 
College at Benares, designed by the late Captain Kittoe, who, though 
not educated as an architect, had more enthusiasm for the art than 
most men, and had devoted many years of his life to its study in 
India and elsewhere ; he was consequently in a position to do better 
than most of his brother officers ; but he had not sufficient command 
of the details of the style to adapt them to the new circumstances, 
and his college is from this cause a failure, both as an artistic design 
and as a utilitarian building. The result of this is that it has been 
suljsequently so altered that its Gothic character has nearly dis- 
appeared, without acquiring those qualities which ought primarily to 
have guided the architect in his design. 

It is very difficult to guess what may be the future of Architecture 
in India. It will hardly be in the direction of Gothic, except for 
churches : but there other feelings than those that guide the progress 
of Art may interfere. In civil buildings the Saracenic is practically 
so like Gothic that it will probably be preferred where that class of 
detail and that amount of ornament is wanted. Already several 
attempts have been made to introduce it into pubhc buildings, but 
generally by persons who had acquired only a very superficial know- 
ledge of the style from Daniel's prints or recent photographs. To 
adapt it reaUy to any new purpose requires a far more intricate know- 
ledge of its principles than any of those who have tried their hands 
at it in India have been found to possess. The designs hitherto prof- 
fered or executed would look very well as the back scene of a theatre, 
or a model at Cremorne or the Crystal Palace, but are not serious art, 
or likely ever to l:)ecome worthy of that name. A far more hopeful 
sign is the style adopted in some of the new buildings at Bombay. 
During the American war fabulous fortunes were realised there from 
the rise in the price of cotton. The old fortifications of the city were 


pulled down, new streets and boulevards were laid out, and Ijuildiugs 
commenced in tlie new city in a style of magnificence unknown up to 
that date in British India. Many of these, too, consist only of 
arcaded storeys superimposed one on another, with only sucli ornament 
as is required to accentuate the construction ; and when pillars are 
introduced it is only when their employment is more convenient than 
that of an arch. Owing to the sudden revulsion that took place when 
the civil war in America ceased, many of these buildings are not yet 
finished, or at least only photographs of them, with the scaffold up, 
have reached this country. But enough can be gathered from them 
to feel sure that if our countrymen have only the courage to adhere to 
this common-sense style and forget Gothic and Saracenic fancies, they 
will soon accomplish something very good ; and with the dimensions 
and light and shade which the climate demands, our Indian cities may 
become objects of which we may be proud. 

An equally good result has been attained at Hongkong, where 
a similar style of architecture has been introduced, and where the 
superior style of W'Orkmanship of the Chinese, combined with the 
extreme beauty of the situation, have rendered the external aspect 
of that city equal to anything known in Europe. Neither Genoa nor 
Naples can compare with it architecturally, though in outward form 
they resemble it, especially the former. 

"With such results, and with a climate demanding architectural 
forms and display, there is hope that something good may be done, 
provided the pitfalls can be obviated which have proved the ruin of 
the Art in Europe. This progress, however, it must be observed, has 
only been attained in the private buildings and residences of the 
merchants and civilians. In Bombay these were till recently gene- 
rally only magnified bungalows, with sloping tiled roofs and wooden 
verandahs ; in Madras they were and are a little better, but too gene- 
rally without any architectural pretensions ; in Bengal they were 
seldom without their verandah of pillars in one of the Italian Orders, 
and with cornices and window-dressings in the same style. 

In Calcutta the houses are generally square blocks, at least two, 
generally three storeys in height, always standing alone in what are 
called compounds, or courts adorned with gardens and surrounded 
by the domestic oflSces. Each house is a separate design by itself, 
and towards the south is always covered by deep verandahs, gene- 
rally arcaded in the basement, with pillars above, which are closed 
to half their height, from above, by green Venetian blinds, which 
are fixed as part of the structure. The dimensions of these fagades are 
about those of the best Venetian palaces. The Grimani, for instance, 
both in dimensions and arrangement, would range perfectly with the 
ordinary run of Calcutta houses, though, alas ! none of them could 
approach it in design. They also possess, when of three storeys, the 


advantage pointed ont in speaking of Italian palaces, of having the 
third storey of equal height to the lower two. 

The consequence of all this is, that, although the pillars are spaced 
six or even eight or ten diameters apart, and support only Avooden 
architraves, though the whole is only brick covered with stucco, and 
though the details are generally badly drawn and frequently misap- 
])lied, still the effect of the whole is eminently palatial and satisfactory. 

In fact, with these dimensions, with their appropriateness, their 
ornamental detail, and the amount of thought bestowed on each sepa- 
rate design, it would be nearly impossible it should be otherwise. 
They are, in fact, nothing but what tliey pretend to be ; and when 
tliis is the case it is far more difficult to do wrong than it is to do 
right according to the system of design in vogue in this country. 

Now that arcades are very generally introduced instead of pillars, 
and better details and more perfect construction are everywhere to be 
seen, and have already altered the aspect not only of Bombay and 
Calcutta but of other Eastern cities, we may look forward with some 
confidence to a day when other places may be dignified by the title of 
" Cities of Palaces," to which in former days Calcutta alone not 
unjustly aspired. 




It was not to be expected that any artistic fashion could for so long 
a period be practised by the conquering race without the subject 
people adopting it in some form or other, and trying to apply it to 
their own purposes. Unfortunately, since the world began it has been 
the curse of all conquest that the conquered people can neither emu- 
late the virtues nor rise to the level of their masters, while they are 
prone to ape their fashions, and, in copying, to exaggerate their vices. 

India has been no exception to this rule ; and it would be difficult, 
in modern times at least, to find anything much more contemptible 
than the tawdry imitations of a European Court which we ourselves 
set up at Lucknow, coupled as it was with a sensuality and corruption 
which can only exist under an Asiatic sun. Although it was here 
that the Eastern form of the Italian Renaissance bloomed in all its 
absurdities, it was not here that it first took root. Our empire and 
our influence commenced in the Carnatic, long before it practically 
extended to Bengal ; and it is at Tanjore, Trichinopoly, and the other 
cities of the south, that the natives first tried what they could do in 
the styles of Alberti and Michael Augelo. 

One of the most remarkable examples of this is to be found at 
Tanjore. As you approach the town you see two great pagoda 
forms towering over all the rest, nearly equal in dimensions, and not 
unlike each other in form. The one is the grand old temple represented 
in Woodcut No. 1045 in the ' History of Architecture ' ; the other is a 
portion of the Palace, and, on a nearer examination, is found to be 
made up of Italian balusters, some attenuated, some stumpy, inter- 
mixed with pillars and pilasters of the most hideous shapes, but all 
meant for Italian, and mixed up with Hindoo gods and goddesses, and 
little scraps of native Architecture peeping out here and there, so as 
to make up a whole so inexpressibly ludicrous and bad, that one 
hardly knows whether to laugh or be angry. At first sight it appears 
difficult to understand what state of affairs could have brought about 
such a combination as this ; but if any one wanted to understand 
thoroughly the state of the native mind at the time this pagoda 
palace Avas erected, he could nowhere find a better illustration. There 


is here that persistent adherence to their ancient forms and feehngs in 
all essentials which characterises everything native, merely varnished 
over with a tawdry film of Enropean civihsatiou which they neither 
feel nor understand. 

What was done at Tanjore only faintly foreshadowed what took 
place at Lncknow. Our power was too early established in the south, 
and the destruction of the native dynasties too complete, to allow of 
any great development of any sort in their dependent state. The 
most powerful of southern native princes, the so-called Xawaub of 
the Carnatic, was brought into Madras itself, where he erected a huge 
formless pile, in which he and his descendants now live, but without 
the means of indulging in any architectural vagaries. 

The kingdom of Oude was one of our next creations. From the 
importance of their relative position its sovereigns were from the 
earliest date protected by us, which means that they were reheved, 
if not from all the cares, at least from all the responsibilities of 
government ; and, with the indolence natural to the Indian character, 
and the temptations incident to an Eastern Court, left to spend in 
debauchery and corruption the enormous revenues placed at their 
disposal. The result might easily have been foreseen. Things went 
on from bad to worse, till the nuisance became intolerable, and was 
summarily put an end to by the daring injustice of Lord DaUiousie's 

One of the earliest buildings of importance at Lncknow, in the 
Italian style, is the Mansion of Constantia,^ built by General Martin,- 
as a residence for himself. 

The General Avas apparently his own architect, and has produced 
a design somewhat fantastic in arrangement, which sins against most 
of the rules of pure Palladian Art to an extent that would not be 
pardonable except in such a chmate and under the peculiar circum- 
stances in which it Avas erected. Notwithstanding this there is some- 
thing very striking in the great central tower, rising from a succes- 
sion of terraced roofs one over the other, and under which are a series 
of halls grouped internally so as produce the most pleasing effects, 
wliile their aiTangement was at the same time that most suitable to 

' So called apparently from the motto of Pondiclierry, and joined the English 
" Lahore et Constantia," adopted by the | service, in which he rose to the rank of 
General, and written up in front of his i General. He left the greater part of his 
house. ] immense fortune to found educational 

2 Gentral Martin was born at Lynns in I establishments at Lyons, Calcutta, and 
1732, and died at Lncknow ISOO. He Lncknow ; but, owing to the lengtli of his 
commenced his career as a private soldier will, and his having drawn it up himself, 
in the French army; but, in consequenco . in bad English, the principal part of his 
of Lally's severity, deserted at the siege ! money has been wasted in law expenses. 



the climate. The sky-Hne is everywhere broken by Httle kiosks, not 
perhaps in the best taste, but pleasing from theii' situation, and appro- 
priate in the vicinity of a town so full of such ornaments as the city 
in whose proximity it is situated. Taken altogether, it is a far more 
reasonable edifice than the rival capriccio of Beckford, at Font- 
hill : and if its details had been purer, and some of those solecisms 
avoided which an amateur architect is sure to fail into, it really does 
contain the germ of a very beautiful design. 

The founder of the mansion lies beneath in a dimly-lighted vaulted 
chamber in the basement of the great tower. His tomb is a simple 

View of the Martiniere, Lucknow. From a Photograph. 

plain sarcophagus, standing on the floor, and at each angle a grenadier 
in full uniform stands with arms reversed, in an attitude of grief, as if 
mournhig over the fall of Ms master. The execution of the monu- 
ment, like everything about the place, is bad, but the conception is one 
of the finest that has yet been hit upon for a soldier's grave. 

This mansion is now fast falling to ruins, and a building of stuccoed 
brick is by no means a pleasing object in decay ; but when new it 
must have been very striking. At all events, its effect on the Oude 
sovereigns was most remarkable. For although their tombs, their 
mosques, and imambarrahs were still erected in the debased Saracenic 
style then prevalent, all the palaces of Lucknow were henceforth 


erected in this psendo- Italian style. The Funvdi Bnksh, the Chutter 
]\runsil, and numerons other buildings, display all the quaint pictu- 
res(|ue irregularity of the age of Francis I., combined with more 
strange details than are to be found in the buildings of Henri IV. 
These were far surpassed in grotesqueness hj the Kaiser Bagh, the 
residence of the late king. This consisted of a great square of build- 
ings surrounding an immense courtyard : the whole palace being in 
extent and arrangement by no means unlike the Louvre and Tuileries 
as joined together by the late Emperor. But, instead of the beautiful 
stone of Paris, all was brick and plaster ; and instead of the appro- 
priate details of that palace, the buildings surrounding the great court 
at Lucknow are generally two storeys in height and singularly various 
in design, generally with pilasters of the most attenuated forms 
running through both storeys, between which Italian windows with 
Venetian bhnds alternate with Saracenic arcades, or openings of no 
style whatever. These are surmounted by Saracenic battlements, and 
crowned by domes such as Rome or Italy never saw, and the whole 
painted with colours as crude as they are glaring. Inside there are 
several large and handsome halls, but all in the same bad taste as the 
exterior, and adorned with mirrors and furniture of the most costly 
description, but generally placed where they are not wanted, or where 
their presence has no meaning. 

A detached building called tlie Begum Kotie is a better specimen 
of the style than anything perhaps in the Kaiser Bagh itself, but it 
cannot either be called a favourable specimen of Italian Art or a 
successful adaptation of the style to Oriental purposes, though it has 
a certain amount of picturesqueness which to some extent redeems its 
other defects. Like all the other specimens of Oriental Italian Archi- 
tecture, it offends painfully, though less than most others, from the 
misapplication of the details of the Classical Orders. Of course no 
native of India can well understand either the origin or motive of the 
A-arious parts of our Orders — why the entablature should be divided 
in architrave, frieze, and cornice — why the pillars should be a certain 
number of diameters in height, and so on. It is, in fact, like a man 
trying to copy an inscription in a language he does not understand, 
and of which he does not even know the alphabet. With the most 
correct eye and the greatest pains he cannot do it accurately. In 
India, besides this ignorance of the grammar of the art, the natives 
cannot help feeling that the projection of the cornices is too small if 
meant to produce a shadow, and too deep to be of easy construction in. 
plaster in a climate subject to monsoons. They feel that brick pillars 
ought to be thicker than the Italian Orders generally are, and that 
wooden architraves are the worst possible mode of construction in a 
climate where wood decays so rapidly, even if spared by the white 
ants. The consequence is, that, between his ignorance of the prin- 



ciples of Classic Art on the one hand, and his knowledge of what is 
snited to his wants and his climate on the other, he makes a sad 
jumble of the Orders. But fashion supplies the Indian with those 
incentives to copying which we derive from association and education ; 
and, in the vain attempt to imitate his superiors, he has abandoned his 
own beautiful art to produce the strange jumble of vulgarity and bad 
taste we find at Lucknow and elsewhere. 

The great caravanserais which the Calcutta baboos and the native 
rajahs have erected for their residences in Lower Bengal are generally 
in this style, but with an additional taint of vulgarity. But perhaps 

Begum Kotie, Lucknow. From a Pbotograph. 

the most striking example of it all is a pavilion which was erected 
Avithin the palace at Delhi by the late king. It stood behind, and 
was seen above, the great audience hall of Shah Jehan, in which once 
stood the celebrated peacock throne, and is one of the noblest and 
most beautiful apartments of its class in any palace in the world. 
Over this, on entering the palace, you saw a little pavilion of brick 
and plaster, which its builder assumed to be the Doric Order, with 
Italian windows and Yenetian blinds. The building was painted 
green, the frieze red, and the ornaments yellow !— the whole in worse 
taste than the summer-house of a Dutch skipper, as seen overhanging 
a canal in Holland. Contrasted with the simplicity and the elegance 


of the white marble palace beneath, it told, in a language not to be 
mistaken, how deeply fallen and how contemptible were the late 
occupants of the throne, as compared with their great ancestors of the 
House of Timour, who ruled that mighty empire with wisdom, and 
adorned its cities with those faultless edifices described in a previous 
part of this work. 

"We live so completely among the specimens of the 'art of Archi- 
tecture which are found in this country, and our associations or our 
prejudices are so bound up with our admiration for, or our feelings 
against them, that it is extremely difficult for us to get outside and 
take a calm survey of the whole, so as to read all the lessons that 
might be learned from their study. But if any one wished to feel 
assured how perfectly Architecture is a reflex of the national character 
and taste, there is perhaps no place where he would see this more 
clearly and distinctly than in studying the history of Architecture iu 
Hindostan during the last six centuries. 

Nothing can be grander and more severe, and, at the same time, 
more chastely ornate, than the bmldings erected by the stern old 
Patans in tlie early centuries of the conquest ; nothing more elegant, 
or iu Architecture more poetic, than the palaces, the tombs, and 
mosques erected by the Mogul sovereigns during the period of their 
prosperity ; and nothing could be better calculated to display at the 
time, and to hand down to posterity, a clear impression of their wealth, 
their magnificence, and the refinement of their taste. 

Xothiug, on the other hand, could more clearly shou' the utter 
degradation to which subjection to a foreign power has depressed their 
successors than the examples of the bastard style just quoted. When 
we reflect how completely the best educated and the most artistic 
classes in the reign of Queen Anne learned to despise the Gothic style 
of our forefathers, the taste for which has returned, and we now admire 
so intensely, we ought not to be surprised if the natives of India 
should have been influenced in the same manner, though from different 
causes. But it does seem astonishing, that while the Hindoos were 
erecting tt-mples and ghauts, if not so grand, at least as elegant, as of 
yore — while the very kings of Oude were erecting such buildings as 
the (n'aud Iniaml)arrah, or the Eoumi Durwaza — they should, at the 
same time, fancy they saw beauty in such abominations as they were 
perpetrating under the guise of Italian Art. Is it that the demon of 
fashion can always blind our l)etter judgment, and force us to admire 
any monstrosity that is in vogue at the moment ? — and this, in spite 
of all that our better taste, or innate feeling of what is right, may 
point out to us as either really correct or beautiful. 





Chap. V, 





[In various parts of the great Dependency the influence of British 
domination is still beneficially at work in architectai'e ; and. more 

»7^ ii"' 

i] A^i^i^l^ 

Palace at Baroda. 

especially, very good work has been done here and there in that imitation 
or acceptance of the native modes of design which modern English 
antiquarianism seems to regard as a fixed principle. 


Plate '270(1 illustrates a design, by Einersou of London, which has 
very deservedly obtained honourable reeognrtion. As the pupil of 
Burges, this architect may be said to combine with an incidental 
knowledge of Indian art that jwculiar form of vigorous gracefulness 
which Avas the strong point of his master's work, always with the spirit 
of media?valism prominent. Tliis accounts for the Gothic character of 
some of the detail, while the motive of the grouping and disposition 
generally seems to be veiy successfully Indian. 

The new ]ialace of the nati\e ruler of Raroda (So. '2~()I)) was 
built under !Major ^Nlant. an Englishman, and is regarded as a highly 
successful work of |ierhaps a more characteristic if less refined styk'. 
The Gothic element is absent : and the reader is quite at liberty to 
think, if he feels so inclined, that its absence is not an advantage ; that 
is to say. tliat the spirit of Gotliic happens to form a valuable and 
legitimate alloy for Indian art in English hands. 

Ganning Gollege. Lucknow (27t)('), is by a native architect, and on 
close inspection will be found to possess more artistic merit than niay 
be apparent at first sight. Gertaiu odd and unintelligible features 
nmst be allowed for, as justifiable on local grounds if not admirable 
otherwise. — Ed.] 



--'kMM ■ ■ rMLi 


T U R K E Y. 



Strictly speaking, the history of the Renaissance Architecture in 
Turkey, or, more properly, in Constantinople, ought to be treated as 
commencing nearly contemporaneously with its rise in Italy, inasmuch 
as after the death of Mahomet II., in 14<s0, the Turks abandoned their 
own original style of mosrjue-building, to copy the Byzantine forms of 
the city they had just obtained possession of ; and so enamoured did 
they become with the new form, that they have never reverted to the 
usual or orthodox plan of a mosque in the capital, though in the 
provinces the true Saracenic style has always prevailed, with only a 
very slight admixture of the Byzantine element. 

There is, however, this very material and important distinction 
between the practice of the architects of the Western and Eastern 
capitals of the old Roman Empire. At Rome, the Renaissance architects 
retained the old form of the ]\Iedia3val Church, but carried it out with 
Classical details : at Constantinople, the Tm'ks adopted, in their 
mosques, the forms of the Byzantine Church, which were new to them, 
but carried out their designs with their o^vn beautiful and appropriate 
details. The former was a stupid and unnecessary process, brought 
about — as pointed out above — by circumstances wholly irrespective of, 
and foreign to, the art of Architecture. The latter is a reasonable 
and proper course to pursue, which, honestly persevered in, can only 
lead to the most satisfactory results. 

Nothing can be wiser or more expedient than that a foreign nation 
SftttUng in a new country should adopt such forms and arrangements 
of buildings as have been found most suitable to the climate and to the 
constructive necessities of the place ; but it by no means foUows from 
this that they are also to copy the details, and to debar themselves 
from introducing every improvement their taste or their o\ra experience 
may suggest. 

When the Turks conquered Constantinople, they soon found that 

Chap. I. TURKEY : MOSQUES. 311 

the climate was not suited to the open courts for mosques wliich were 
so appropriate at Cairo or at Delhi ; and, having before them such 
nohle buildings as the Church of St. Sophia, and other domical churches 
of the great age of Byzantine Art, they at once adopted the form, and 
set al)out liuilding mosques on that ])lan, but improving, in so far as 
they could, not only the arrangement and construction, but employing 
everywhere their own Saracenic details, and adapting each of them to 
the |)lace it was to occupy, and the constructive necessities it was to 
fulfil or to represent. 

Strictly speaking, the arrangement of the plan and the construction 
of a l)uilding belong to the engineering branch of the profession. 
The harmonious adjustment of its proportions, and the appropriate 
ornamentation of these parts, fall specially witliin the province of the 
Architect. All that the Turks did was to borrow the mechanical part 
of their mosques from their Byzantine predecessors ; but they were 
neither so lazy nor so illogical as to think that their doing so excused 
them from the necessity of thought, or that mere reproduction can 
either be, or can ever represent, contemporary Art. 

The practical result of these two different systems is what might 
easily be foreseen. At Rome we have St. Peter's — a Gothic church 
carried out with Classical details ; though in dimensions it is as large 
as any three Mediseval cathedrals put together, though, constructively, 
it is superior to any, and though in richness of detail and ornamenta- 
tion it surpasses them all — yet in the effect it produces, and in artistic 
merit generally, it is less satisfactory than the smallest and plainest 
of Mediaeval cathedrals. 

At Constantinople, on the contrary, we have, in the contemporary 
Sulinianie Mosque, a building which, though one of the first attempts 
of a new people in an unfamiliar style, is beautiful in itself, and in 
some respects an improvement on the model from which it was copied.^ 
In the Mosque of Ahmed and others, we have interiors as superior to 
those of the contemporary churches of the Palladian school as it is 
possible to concei\'e ; and this result was obtained by a set of ignorant 
Turks, aided by a few renegade Leva-^itines, competing with the best 
intellects and the most educated classes of Western Europe, at the 
time of their highest artistic development ! 

But the Wesfterns were following out a wrong system, in which 
success was impossible. The Easterns were correct in their principles 
of Art, and failure was consequently very difficult to be achieved. 

In so far, therefore, as the form is concerned, the Constantinopolitan 
Renaissance arose contemporaneously with the Italian, and might be 
so treated in a history of Art. If, however, the essence only is con- 
sidered, it dates only from within the limits of the present century. 

' See 'History nf Architecture,' vol. ii. p. 413 et seqq. 



Though either classification might consequently be adopted, the latter 
is the relation in which it will be convenient to treat of it on the 
present occasion. 

Since the beginning of the present century Turkish Architecture 
may be said to have fairly passed out of this stage of quasi-Renaissance, 
or true Art, which distinguished it for the previous three centuries, 
and to have assumed the true Renaissance, in all its illogical and 
unthinking unreasonableness. 

The round hats of the Franks have invaded the Bosphorus, and 
with them have come their mistaken principles of Art. To the 
Byzantine form of their mosques the Turks have now added the details 

Mosque of Selim, Scutari. From a Drawing by T. A Horn. 

of the Italian Oi'ders ; but as yet not ungracefully, partly because 
Roman details are not wholly incongruous with Byzantine forms, and 
because; in the mosques at least, it is only the details, not the forms, 
that they have altered. Itr has not yet occurred to them to try and 
make one of their religious edifices look like a Roman Basilica, or a 
Greek Temple, or anything, in fact, but what it is ; and thus far, 
therefore, the injury is only partial. 

In the mosque, for instance, that the Sultan Mahomed II. (1808- 
1838) erected at Tophana, the outline is that of all the older buildings, 
and it is only on a close or critical inspection that we disco^■er the 
clumsy consoles and badly-profiled cornices with which it is covered. 

That of his predecessor, Selim, at Scutari, is a more pleasing speci- 

Chap. I. TURKEY : MOSQUES. 313 

men : and though all the details are really Italian, they are used with 
such freedom, and so little obtrusive, that their introduction may 
almost be forgiven. Were it not for the exceeding beauty of the older 
moscjues, we should not hesitate to admire this specimen of the art ; 
and it is also easy to see that a little more familiarity with the best 
class of Italian details would have remedied many of the defects of 
th'.'se designs. The only question being, Is freedom possible with such 
familiarity ? all that can now be answered is, that so far as our 
experience goes, knowledge and slavery in i\.rchitectural x4rt seem 
synonymous terms. 

The great mosque which Mahomet Ali erected in the Citadel at 
Cairo is a still more remarkable example of the decline of architectural 
taste in the East. Its dimensions are very consideral:)le, as it consists 
of a square block of building measuring 157 ft. each way, and, with 
the attached courtyard surrounded by arcades, the whole measures 
3G5 ft. by 186. Its plan, too, is unexceptionable, being a square hall 
surmounted by a dome GO ft. in diameter internally, and four semi- 
domes of pure Constantinopolitan type.^ In addition to these advan- 
tages, its materials are richer than any used for a similar purpose in 
any mosque in modern times, the walls internally being all covered' 
with slabs of Oriental alabaster of the most beautiful tints ; and it was 
intended to have carried the same class of ornamentation aU over the 
exterior, luit the mosque was left unfinished at the death of its 
founder in 1842.^ 

Notwithstanding all these advantages, the building must be pro- 
nounced a failure in an architectural point of view, for the same reason 
that the church at Mousta fails, as also the cathedrals of Boulogne and 
Gran ^ — because of the want of knowledge of the principles of design 
on the part of their arcMtects, and because their details neither express 
the construction nor are elegant in themselves. Externally, the mosque 
itself is pierced with two storeys of plain unornamented windows, 
which, without any grouping, certainly do not indicate the interior. 
The arches of the vaults are not brought through to the outside, as is 
the case invariably at Constantinople ; the roof is so flat and so plain 
that the group of domes and semi-domes that crown it lose half the 
value, as far as size is concerned, and all the poetry they might possess, 
if growing naturally out of the construction below. Add to this that 
the details are in a bad, ill-understood Corinthian style, mingled with 
Pointed arches and Rococo ornaments of all sorts, and it will be easy 
to understand how even the noblest design may have been destroyed. 

' It is, in fact, a reproduction on a I here given to a plan of the building 
somewhat smaller scale of the Mosque ; kindly procured for me by the Rev. Geo. 
of Ahmed at C.mstantinople (' History of I Washington, chaplain at Cairo, and to 
Architecture,' Woodcut 942). , my own subsequent personal observation. 

^ I am indebted for the dimensions ! ^ See Introduction, pp. 33 to 37. 



Internally, the effect is very much more pleasing. The light, 
though subdued, is sufficient : the materials rich, and the colouring is 
not oflfensive ; while the plan and mode of roofing by domes and 
semi-domes is such that even a Levantine could hardly spoil it. The 
consequence of all this is that, as an interior, this mosque will stand 
a comparison with almost any building in Europe of its own age. 

The real difference, however, Ijetween this mosque in the citadel 
and the older mosques in the city of Cairo below, does not exist in 
either the dimensions or the original conception of the building so 
much as in the mode of carrying it into effect. In the olden time the 

278. Mosque in Citadel at Cairo. From a Photograph by F. Bedford. 

architect would merely ha/e arranged his building, probably very 
much as this one is laid out, and would have provided that the con- 
struction should be truthful and ti'uthfully expressed both inside and 
out. All the moulding, with the capitals, brackets, &c., would have 
been built in block, and, as the structure progressed, one block would 
have been handed over to one carver to be completed, another to 
another. He would then have employed the inlayer on one part, 
the painter on another, and the gilder where his services might be 
required ; and all these men working together, each a master in his 
own department, would have produced that multiplicity combined 
with unity we so much admire in the old buildings. The njisfortune 


Chap. I. TUEKEY : MOSQUES. 315 

is, this class of artist does not now exist in Cairo ; and the architect 
mnst pnt into his design as mnch thonght as he has time for, or is 
cajjable of exerting, before he Itegins it. As he first conceives it, so it 
is erected, and when the crescent is pnt on the top of the dome the 
whole is considered complete. Snrely we onght not, nnder these 
circnmstances, to be snrprised at the cold and unsatisfactory result 
that is produced by this process in this instance.^ Yet it prol)ably 
pleases those that worship in it as much, if not more than the older 
buildings, which excite such admiration in our eyes ; but it can only 
do so in consequence of its size and the richness of its materials : and 
there is no surer sign of the decay of taste, or of a want of knowledge 
of the principles of Art, on the part of any people, than the assumption 
that these two qualities can ever be of any value except as mere 
vehicles for the expression of the higher qualities of taste and design 
which can alone make a work of Art valuable. 

' On the right of the diawing is a cast- factnriug towns. As it is veiy oft'eiisive 

iron clock-tower, whicli must, with the 
niachint ry, have been orch red from some 
firm in Birmingliam, as the mouldings 
and decorations are all-in that cIpss of 

in its .native land, it will be underbtcod 
how much mnie so it is in this situation ; 
but even then it is qu( stionable whetl er 
it is in worse twste tlian tlie alabaster 

Gothic which we find adorning steam- ' fountain occupying tl.e centre of tlu 
engines and water-tanks in our nianu- court of the mosque. 




Although, from the same strong conservative feeling connectea 
with religions buildings, the mosques of the Turks have hitherto, like 
those of Lucknow and Delhi, escaped from the lowest stage of the 
copying school, the same assertion cannot be made with regard to their 
palaces. The Ambassadors of the "Western Powers have erected for 
themseh'es palaces at Pera in styles peculiar to the various countries 
which they represent ; and the Sultans of Turkey have learnt to 
admire these, as they have been taught to believe in every form of the 
civilisation of Western Europe, and, more than this, have employed 
the architects deputed to liuild the ambassadorial residences to erect 
palaces for themselves. 

The view on the next page of one of the Sultan's New Palaces on 
the Bosphorus is a fair average specimen of the productions of this new 
school. Instead of the old plan of. designing every part with reference 
to the purpose to which it was to he applied, of making every window 
and pillar tell its own tale, and of carving every detail with reference 
to the situation and the light in which it was to be placed, we have here 
a design which any clever draftsman could complete in all essentials 
between sunrise and sunset, and which, when finished, would be as 
suitalile for the climate or the purposes of St. Petersburgh or Wash- 
ington as for a palace of a Turkish Sultan on the shores of the 
^Bosphorus I Though there is no vulgarity and no gross architectural 
solecism in the design, it would be difficult to see how the art could 
well sink lower than the stage here represented. 

Another palace in Constantinople, which was in progress of erection 
by the late Sultan Abdul Med j id at the time of his death, from the 
designs of a young Armenian artist, named Balzan, is in many respects 
better than the last mentioned, in some worse. As will be seen from 
the view, it is rich in detail and full o design to an extent rarely found 
in modern buildings of the classical school. It is more like a design in 
the Plateresco style of the Spanish architects of the 16th century than 
anything that has been done since that time, and if the details were 

Chap. II. 



irood in themselves, or appropriate, the eflPect would he all that could be 
desired ; l)ut it was a mistake in the artist to adopt so much that was 
Classical, and mix it with so much opi^osed to all the principles of 
that style. 

Although, therefore, this second example has not the customhouse- 
like coldness of the first design, it is nearly as unsatisfactory, though 
from very different causes. The first shows no evidence of thought, 
and has hardly a sufficiency of ornament for its situation or its 
purposes. The second has an almost superfluity of ornament, and 
also evinces a considerable amount of design. It fails, however, 
in producing the desired efPect, because the principal part of the 

Palace on the Bosphorus. From a Drawing by T. AUom. 

details are borrowed from a foreign Classical style, and are used 
for purposes for which they were not originally intended ; and the 
parts which are added are such as neither accord with the original 
intention of the Orders, nor with anything suggested by the building 

The whole of the details are, in fact, evidently added for ornament's 
sake, without any real reference to the constructive exigencies of the 
building, nor in order to adapt the foreign elements to the necessities 
of the climate in which they are employed ; neither have they any 
particular reference to the manners or customs of the Sublime Porte. 
They halt between all these ; and the puzzled architect has only 
exhibited the confusion of his own brain, while he had at his disposal 



Vii.'W of the Sultau's New I'alact- at Cunstaiitiuople. From a Pbotograpli. 

money, materials, and means to produce as rich and as beautiful a. 
building as any in Europe. 

It is to be feared that there is too little vitality left in the Turks 
or in the Turkish Empire to hope that, in Europe at least, they can 
ever rise again to such a degree of power as to be able to shake off 
this state of dependence on the arts and influences of the "West. 
They have not yet sunk so low as the wretched Nawauljs of Oude, 
and their Architecture is still better than that of Lucknow ; but it 
seems as if they were sinking into the position of a protected state ; 
and protection is only another word for degradation that sooner or 
later must lead to extinction. 

In Europe the Turks have been too mixed a people, too little at 
home, and too insecure in their possessions, to have ever done mucli 
for Art, notwithstanding the instincts of their race, and their ex- 
pulsion would now be no loss in this respect ; though neither the 

Chap. II. TURKEY : PALACES. 319 

Greeks uor any of the subject iiatioualities who micjht succeed them 
seem at all hkely to surpass them in this respect. Up to this moment 
at least the Greeks of the Levant have not shown the smallest apti- 
tude for Art in any of its forms ; and although with more leisure and 
better opportunities there may be a prospect of improvement, even 
this at present seems very doubtful. 






The steps by which the Classic styles were introduced into America 
by the Spaniards were identical with those which led the Portuguese 
to adopt it as their style of architecture in the East, and the results 
were practically the same in both countries. 

Peligious enthusiasm was at its height in Spain at the time when 
the New World was discovered by Columbus ; and the enormous 
wealth acquired by the conquest of Mexico and Peru, whether 
resulting from plunder or from the successful working of the mines, 
naturally led so priest-favouring a people to dedicate a considerable 
portion of their newly-acquired wealth to religious purposes. The 
consequence was that very soon every city in the New World built its 
cathedral, every town its churches, and every hacienda its chapel ; but 
it is, perhaps, not unjust to say that not one of* them was in any degree 
remarkable for beauty of architectural design. 

It has already been pointed out how inartistic the Spaniards had 
shown themselves in dealing with the Renaissance styles in their own 
country, notwithstanding the assistance they obtained from the artists 
of Italy and France, and it could hardly be expected that they would 
do even as well in the New World. The priests, who, in nine cases 
out of ten, were the architects there, had none of them received the 
necessary professional education. They had a certain recollection of 
what was done in their own country, and may have possessed imper- 
fect drawings of the more celebrated churches of their day. But to 
adapt these to altered circumstances, and to carry them out in detail 
with native — or at least with local — artists, was as difficult (if not 
more so) as to make a new design. The consequence is that most of 
the churches of New Spain, though many are remarkable for their 

Chap. I. 



size and splendour, are singularly plain in an architectural point of 
view : or, what is worse, vulgar and pretentious from an affectation 
of Classical Art, either misunderstood or misapplied. 

The largest and finest of all the churches erected in the Xew 
"World is perhaps the cathedral of Mexico. It was commenced in 
the year 1573, in substitution of an older church which had been 
erected by Fernan Cortes, on the site of the great temple of Mon- 
tesuma, but was not finished till the year 1G57. Its dimensions are 

281. External View of the Cathedral at Mexico. From Pedro Ciualdi, ' Monumeiitos de Mejico.' 

very considerable, inasmuch as it is said to measure 50-1 ft. over all, 
externally, from north to south, and 228 ft. across, or very nearly 
the same as those of St. Paul's. It has five aisles, and the inter- 
section of the nave and transepts is crowned by an octagonal lantern, 
liut only of the same width as the central aisle. As it is understood 
that the designs for tliis church were sent out from Europe, it avoids 
many of the faults which are so offensive in some of the other 
churches of this city. Indeed the architectural arrangement of the 
interior may be called singularly happy for this cb,ss of building. 



Book IX. 

The entablature, ^Yllich always formed the great stumblingblock of 
architects in this style, is altogether omitted ; and the arches spring 
direct from the capitals of the Doric half-columns, which are attached 
to the piers. It thus avoids most of the faults of our St. Paul's, and 
even the size of tlie dome is internally in better proportion to the 
rest of the church, where there is a chancel beyond. If the dome 
ends the vista, it may be of any size ; but in the middle of a cruciform 
church it throws every other part out of proportion if its dimensions 
are not kept moderate. 

282. View of Side Aisle in the Cathedral at Mexico. From Gualdi. 

Externally, the western facade is massive and imposing, perhaps 
more so than any Spanish church of the age and style. Its two great 
towers rising to a height of 'AOo ft. are really grand features, solid 
below, and tapering pleasingly above. The central dome, it must he 
confessed, looks mean externally compared with those found in Italian 
and French churches ; but the Spaniards — except at the Escurial — do 
not seem ever to have affected this feature. 

When we look at the immense difficulties in the internal arrange- 

Chap. I. AMERICA : MEXICO. 323 

ment -which the introduction of a tall Italian dome superinduces, it 
becomes a question whether it really is a legitimate part of such a 
design ; but it is so noble that a good deal can be forgiven for its 
sake. The external outline of the cathedral of Mexico is — barring 
its details — perhaps, one of the best proportioned examples of a 
church designed to dispense with this feature ; though it can hardly 
be doubted but that externally the loss of effect is considerable from 
this cause. Even if it must be admitted that the adaptation of the 
tall dome to the internal arrangement of a modern church has not 
been quite successfully accomplished hitherto, there seems httle doubt 
but that with the engineering talent of the present day that difficulty 
also might be overcome ; and that a great dome might be fitted to a 
nave, at least as wide as two-thirds of its diameter, without any 
offensive display of mechanical expedients. If this were done with 
judgment and taste, we should probably have an architectural effect 
such as has not yet been seen ; but it is not to the New "World we 
must look for anything so artistic or so desirable. 

As at Groa, some of the cloisters attached to the great monastic 
establishments of Mexico and elsewhere are more pleasing specimens 
of xlrchitectural Art than the churches to wliich they belong. One 
in particular, attached to the Convent of Na. Sa. de la Merced, is as 
bright and as beautiful as that of Lupiana (Woodctit No. 89), or any- 
thing in Spain. It possesses that happy an^angement of two smaller 
arcades over one wider arch below, as in the Doge's Palace at Venice ; 
except that in this instance nothing has been put over them, and as 
the whole detail is rich and elaborate, the effect is extremely pleasing. 

There are no public buildings in the city of Mexico remarkable as 
Architectural designs. ]\Iany are large and highly ornamented, but 
they are only bad copies of buildings at home, having no local pecu- 
liarity to distinguish them from those of the mother country, except 
what is universal in colonial design — that clumsiness in executing 
the various details and profiling the Classical moulding, which so 
shocks any one who has imbued himself with the beauty of Classical 
Art in tliis respect. 

Y 2 




The cathedral of Ai'equipa, in Peru, is probably as good an 
example as could well be chosen to illustrate the position of the 
art of Architecture in the emancipated colonies of Spain at the 
present day. The original cathedral was commenced in the year 
1621, from the designs of an architect named Andrea Espinosa, and 
was completed in 1G56. This building was, however, almost entirely 
destroyed by fire on the 1st of December, IS-t-l, shortly after which 
time the rebuilding was commenced, on the same plan and general 
outline as the fonner edifice, but with such improvements in detail 
as the progress in the knowledge of Architectural design seemed to 

As will be seen from the woodcut, the fa9ade is of very con- 
siderable extent, and divided into five compartments by Corinthian 
pillars standing upon a low basement, Ijut supporting only a fragment 
of an entablature. Bet^\'een these are two ranges of pillars standing 
one upon the other, of the same Order, but of course only half the 
height ; and it is their cornice — not that of the larger Order — that 
crowns the building. This is perhaps the only important instance 
known of this curious inversion of the European principle of design, 
and it is so nearly successful that a very little more would have 
made it quite so. If the larger Corinthian Order had only been used 
as square piers or buttresses, marking the divisions of the interior, 
their use would have been understood and their effect most pleasing. 
A very monumental effect is also obtained by the lower storey 
being pierced only by the entrances, and the upper by a few well- 
proportioned windows widely spaced. The towers are perhaps a 
little too low, but their form was pro^iably the only one that ought 
to be adopted in a country so subject to earthquakes ; and, even as it 
is, they are well proportioned to the length of the facade to which 
they are attached, and their design is pleasing and free from any 
instance of bad taste. 

' For this information, and for the woodcut, I am indebted to the kindness of Mr. 
Clements Markham, the well-known author of several works on Peru, and the 
introducer of bark into India. 

Chap. II. 



The features that principally detract from the beauty of this. 
fagade arise from the peculiarity so often remarked upon in the 
previous pages, of men undertakiug to design in a style with all 

the details of which they are not practically familiar. At Mousta, 
at Boulogne, at Cloa, or Calcutta, where buildings are erected by 
persons who have not mastered the details of the style, they commit; 


the same faults that a man would make who would attempt to write 
a poem in Latin without knowing more than the mere nidiments of 
the language. However grand and good their conceptions may be, 
they are marred by the defective mode in which they are expressed, 
and so it always will be till men learn to build as they write — in the 

Chap. III. AMERICA : NORTH. 327 



When we turn from what was done in Mexico and Pern to examine 
the Architectural forms of the United States of North America, we 
become instantly aware of the enormous difference of race and rehgion 
that prevails between the two great sections of that continent. 

The old Scandinavian or Dutch settlers built their meeting- 
houses for prayer, or their neat quaint dwellings, in utter ignorance 
of the precepts of Palladio, and with the same supreme contempt 
for Mediaeval x\rt as it prevailed in Europe for three centuries after 
it ceased to be a real art ; and the Puritan Pilgrim Fathers, who 
followed and superseded them, showed the same Anglo-Saxon in- 
dift"erence to Architectural ornament as has characterised their race 
at all times, except when their national vanity is piqued into rivalry 
with some other nation of more artistic tendencies. The conse- 
quence of this was, that from the time of the earliest colonisation of 
this country, till after the termination of the war of 1812-14, there 
was hardly one single building erected in Northern America which is 
worthy of being mentioned as an example of Architectural Art. 

When after the termination of that war it became the " manifest 
destiny " of the United States to surpass all the nations of the eanh 
in Art as in everything else, they set about doing something to justify 
the boast they were so fond of proclaiming. 

Hitherto their attempts have been less successful than even those 
of the mother country ; and there is with them less prospect of im- 
provement than with us. An i\.merican has a great deal too much 
to do. and is always in too great a hurry to do it, ever to submit to 
the long, patient study and discipline requisite to master any one 
style of Architecture perfectly. Still less is he likely to submit to 
that amount of self-negation which is indispensable if a man would 
attempt to be original. Why should he stop to design each detail to 
the place it is intended to occupy ? Why should he try to proportion 
every part harmoniously, or to apply each ornament appropriately ? 
Why submit to all tliis drudgery, when Classic pillars and Gothic 
pinnacles stuck on ad Ubitum get over all difficulties, and satisfy 
himself and his employers ? The perfection of Art in an American's 


eyes would be attained by the invention of a self-acting machine, 
which should produce plans of cities and designs for Gotliic churches 
or Classic municipal buildings, at so much per foot super, and so save 
all further trouble or thought. 

The planning of cities has in America been always practically 
performed by these means ; the process being to take a sheet of 
machine-ruled paper, and, determining the scale that is to be used, 
to divide the whole into equal squares, easily staked out. and the 
contents of which are easily computed. Whether the ground is flat 
or undulating — whether the river or shore on which it is situated is 
straight or curved — whatever the accident of the situation, or the 
convenience of traffic — tliis simple plan enables any man to lay out 
a city in a morning ; and if he can do this, why should he spend 
weeks or months in carefully contouring the ground ? "Why pro- 
portion his streets to the traffic they are intended to con^•ey ? Why 
draw complicated curves so difficult to set out, and so puzzling to 
calculate .'' Why, in short, think, when the thing can be done 
without thought ? It is in vain to urge that by this process the 
most prosaic ugliness has been stamped on every city of the Union 
hitherto laid out, when, by a little pains and a little more thought, 
far more beautiful and more convenient cities might ha^-e been 
produced. This may be true ; but the first process answers all the 
purposes of a people who have so little feeling for Art that they do not 
perceive its deformity. The latter requires both time and thought, 
and why should they expend theirs upon it while the othei' supplies 
their wants ? ^ 

The same system prevails in their buildings. If not so absolutely 
mechanical as their plans, it is still true that their principal drawing 
instrument is a pair of scissors ; and a machine might guide these 
almost as well as a human hand, were it not that after being pinned 
together the design must generally be attenuated and pared down to 
suit the pecuniary exigencies of the case. Notwithstanding the 
defects of their system, the Americans have lately shown a great 

' Though the Americans have carried Guienne and elsewhere in France, were 
this principle to excess, it must be con- as formal as New York or Philadelphia; 
fessed that all cities which have been | and in the dark ay;es of our Art we 
founded have more or less of this rec- ' admired the plan of the new town of 
tangular ugliness, which is only avoided \ Edinburgh. In laying out towns, this 
in those which grow. The cities which ; mode of procetding may be useful as 
the Greek colonists founded in Asia avoiding some practical difficulties ; but 
Minor, or on the shores of the Black it certainly is absolutely destructive of all 
Sea. were all more or less rectangular. \ picturesqueness or beauty ; and no city 
Alexandria was completely so. The so arianged can ever display with pleasing 
cities the Romans founded in this country effect sucii specimens of Architectural 
were generally rectangular in plan. The Art as it may possess. 
Bastides, which our Edward founded at I 

Chap. III. AMERICA : NORTH. 329 

desire to display their wealth in architectural magnificence, and to 
rival the Old World in tliis respect ; and have produced some very 
showy bijldings, but certainly not one that can be seriously com- 
mended as an artistic design, and still less any one which can be 
quoted as a well-thought-out expression of a mind imbued with 
architectural taste and knowledo;e. 




The principal edifice in the United States of America, or, at least, 
the one of which they are most prond, is the Capitol at "Washington, 
which would be an ornament to any city, though scarcely deserving 
all the praise that has been bestowed upon it. 

" The original design of the Capitol was partly by Dr. William 
Thornton and partly by Mr. B. H. Latrobe. The corner ( ? foundation) 
stone was laid by General Washington in September, 1793, and the 
original building was completed under the superintendence of Mr. C. 
Bulfinch, as architect, in 1830." ^ This building, however, only ex- 
tended 3.52 feet north and sonth, and was comprised in the centre block 
shown in the accompanying plan (Woodcut No. 284:). Recentl}; two 
wings have been added to it, more than doubling its extent, and it 
now measures 680 feet north and south by 280 east and west, across 
the central porticoes (Woodcut No. 285). The central dome, too, 
though part of the original design, has only jnst been completed, and, 
with these additions, it is, with the exception of our Parliament 
Houses, the most extensive and most highly ornamented legislative 
palace in the world. 

The general ordinance of the architecture of the Capitol somewhat 
resembles that of our Somerset House, which, being then the fashion- 
able building of the day, no doubt influenced the design. The base- 
ment, however, in the English example, is better proportioned to the 
Order ; the rustication, especially of the arches, in the American 
building is painfully bad, and detracts greatly from the beauty of the 
whole. The great features, however, of the Capitol are the splendid 
ranges of porticoes of free-standing pillars which adorn all its fronts, 
especially the eastern, and the magnificent fiights of steps that lead 
up to them. 148 Corinthian columns are so employed, each 30 feet in 
height, exclusive of the box bases, which had far better been omitted ; 
while theh" pediments, and the various breaks in the building, give 
a variety of outline to the whole, and a play of light and shade hardly 
to be found in any other building of its class. 

^ Owen's 'Hints on Public Architecture,' p. 9. 4to. New York, 1849. 

Chap. IV. 



The great feature of the whole, however, is the dome, shown in ele- 
vation and section in the woodcut on page 503. The total height from 
the ground-line to the apex of the statue is 287 ft. .5 in., and the internal 
diameter of the rotunda is 94 ft. 2 in.^ It is thus rather more than one- 
tenth less than our St. Paul's, from which it is evidently copied, but 
in some other respects its design may be considered as equal if not 
superior. Its stylobate certainly is better than that of any dome 
of its class yet executed, and on the whole it certainly rises as 
pleasingly from its substructure as any similar dome. One of its 
most remarkable peculiarities is that the whole above the stylobate 


284. Plan of the Original Capitol at Washington. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

is of cast or wrous-ht iron. Xo wood and no stone is used anywhere. 
The absence of the former material certainly insures it against fire ; 
but it was an unpardonable error to employ forms so purely lithic 
and so appropriate to stone architecture, and that too only, if iron was 
to be used. As it is, however, the Coriuthian pillars of the peristyle 
with their entablature, and all the external and internal ornaments 
up to the statue of Columbia, are only cast iron painted in imitation 
of stone. When the Capitol was originally commenced, a dome some- 
thimr of this form and of these dimensions no doubt formed part of 

' These dimensions, with the woodcuts ph'ito-raphsof tlie ori.^inal woikin«:- draw- 
now given, may, I believe, be absolutely ings, kindly procured for me by my friend 
depended upon. They are taken from Dr. Percy. 



Book IX. 

Chap. IY. 



28(i. Scale 50 feet to I inch. 

Half Elevation, half Section, of the Capitol at Washington, from Official Plans. 

the design ; but then it was intended, of course, to be in stone and 
wood, like that of St. Paul's. When, however, it was determined to sub- 
stitute iron it was undoubtedly a mistake not at once to introduce forms 


more appropriate to the material. Had they, for instance, adopted 
a cone Hke that erected by Mr. Scott Eussell for the Vienna Exliibition, 
they might have had a hall at least twice the diameter, and quite as 
capable of ornamental effect as tliis, for far less money, and one that 
would not in any way have interfered with the effect of the building, 
which this one does to a considerable extent. 

Internally, the Rotunda is certainly even much less successful than 
it is externally. In the first place, a circular room 94 ft. in diameter, 
with only four small doors leading into it 10 and 13 ft. high and 4 and 
6 ft. wide, while the room itself is ISO feet in height, is an architectural 
solecism that no amount of art could redeem ; and in this instance the 
extreme ;[:)lainness of the lower part — there are only twelve very 
commonplace pilasters with a few panels — compared with the richness 
of the upper part, renders the absurdity still more glaring. If Barry's 
central hall of our Parliament Houses (Woodcut No. 218) had only been 
a little more equal to it in horizontal dimensions, it would have been 
as superior to this in proportion, in arrangement of parts, and in orna- 
mentation, as it is possible to conceive one design surpassing another. 

It would be extremely interesting if it were possible to institute 
a comparison between the Capitol at Washington and our own Parlia- 
ment Houses. Their purposes are identical, their dimensions not 
dissimilar, and their ages near enough for them to be called buildings 
of the same generation. Notwitlistanding this, the whole principle 
on which the one is designed is so unlike that of the other, that it is 
hardly possible to compare the one with the other. It is like com- 
paring the Parthenon at Athens with St. George's Chapel at Windsor. 
Their dimensions are nearly the same, the intercolumniations alike, 
the pui'poses identical, but how can a comparison be instituted ? In 
the one the exterior is the main feature, in the other it is the interior. 
The one is remarkable for its simple purity, the other for its complex 
variety : while the feelings the one was erected to express are as 
nearly diametrically opposed as can be to those portrayed in the other. 

There are the same differences between the two buildings now 
under discussion, though arising only from fashion, not from faith. 
The Roman A^as the style in vogue when the Capitol was designed, 
the Gothic when the Parliament Houses were commenced,^ and it was 
tliis fashion, and not the fitness of either style, that governed the 
design. It thus happens that a comparison between the two buildings 
hardly aids in settling the question whether the Classic or Gothic is 
best suited for the purpose, the fact being that both are wrong ; and 
we cannot consequently institute any reasonable comparison between 

> By the time Parliament Houses be- ! her senate will sit in a proi^er Drajjon 

come necessities at St. Petersburgh, it is 
probaVjle that Chinese will be the fashion- 
able style, in Kussia at least, and that 

JD roper 

Hall. It can hardly be said that this 
would be mucli more absurd than the 
American and Enjrlish anachronisms. 

Chap. IV. 



them in this respect. On one point, however, we can see how both 
erred from mistaken ambition based on ill-miderstood principles. 
Barry mined his design from introducing a Brobdingnagian tower, in 
three storeys ?A)0 ft. in height, attached to facades of three and four 
storeys, but hardly reacliing 100 ft. in height. It was proclaiming 
the war of the pigmies and giants, which could only end in being 
ridiculous. Had he doubled the diameter of his central hall, and 
doul)led the height of the spire over it (see "Woodcut Xo. 218), it 
would have interfered with nothing, but have added dignity to his 

287. View of the Capitol at Washington, as it now is. 

building. So would a high iron structure to the Capitol, however 
high or large it might be : but to add a dome nearly as large as that 
of our St. Paul's to a building which is everywhere seen to be only a 
three-storeyed civic edifice, was simply to crush the whole, and make 
that look insignificant^ which might otherwise have been quite 
dignified enough for its purposes. 

' A curious illustration of this may be i erected over it, much in the same pro- 
seen in London. The hospital of lieth- portion to it as the Washington dome is 
lehem had originally only a portico in its to its portico. The outlines of the build- 
centre, of no great beauty c-eitainly, but ing maybe improved by the addition, but 
pleasing because well proportioned to the portico is crushed and had better be 
the building. Latterly a dome has been | removed. 



Book IX. 

Taking it all in all, however, there are few buildings erected in 
modern times which possess to a greater extent than the Capitol at 
Washington appropriateness of purpose comhined with the dignity 
necessary for the senate house of a great nation. It has not the variety 
and richness of detail of our Parliament Houses, but it is a far statelier 
building, and its faults are those of the age in which it was com- 
menced, and which have tied the hands of subsequent architects, and 
prevented them from using the improvements that have since been 
introduced in the arts of design ; but it wants only a very little to 
enable it to attain a very high rank among the buildings of its class 
in other parts of the world. 

288. Tower of Smithsonian Institute, Washington 

The Smithsonian Institute is another edifice of which the inha- 
bitants of Washington are nearly as proud as they are of their Capitol, 
though it differs from that building as much as any one can differ 
from another — rude, irregular Medievalism being here thought the 
perfection of Art, instead of the elegant Classical formality of the 
Capitol. It is of considerable extent, being 447 ft. long, with an 
average breadth of about 66 : and one of the towers — there are eight 
or ten of these, of various shapes and sizes — reaches a height of 141 ft. 

Chap. IV 



Its g-eneral plan is that of an abbey chiu'ch ; the centre block — the 
nave — is occupied by the Library below, the Museum above. The 
transept contains the mineralogical collection and the Regent's rooms ; 
what appears at one end to be an apsidal chapel externally, turns out 
to be a G-allery of Art, and this is balanced at the other end by 
a group of lecture-rooms and other conveniences. The style is 
Norman, though of a class that would have astonished a baron or 
a bishop of the eleventh or twelfth centuries, and resembles one of 
their buildings as much as the Pavilion at Brighton resembles the 
tomb of Muckdoom Shah Dowlut, from which it is said to be copied. 
The annexed woodcut, representing an octagonal tower at the junction 
of the Library and Art Gallery, is a fair illustration of the style. It 
is one of the best of those which are supposed to adorn the building. 

New Treasury Buildings, Wasliington. From a Photograph. 

In wonderful contrast to the broken outhne and studied irre- 
gularity of the Smithsonian Institute is the cold machine-designed 
uniformity of the Treasury Buildings just completed in the same city. 

In this country we are generally content with putting two storeys 
of windows under one storey of pillars, though, once the pillars 
become merely an ornament, there does not seem any greater incon- 
gruity in putting a dozen. In the present instance there are three 
of very commonplace design, and without any apparent connection 
with the Order or the Order with them ; there is nothing, in fact, 
to redeem this design from tne merest commonplace — ^no beauty 
of form or of outhne — and the portico in no way harmonises with the 
wings. It is, however, far more appropriate to a city designed after 
the fashion of a chess board, than such an irregular Irailding as the 
Smithsonian Institute. 

VOL. II. z 


Book iX. 



AxoTHEE educational institution, of which the Americans are equally 
proud, is the Girard College, Philadelphia. It is designed on prin- 
ciples so totally different from those that governed the design of the 
Smithsonian Institute, that either the word Architecture has a thousand 
meanings, or those who built it did not understand the term. In 
this instance, instead of florid Norman, the exterior is that of a 

Girard College, Philadelphia. 

Eoman temple 218' ft. long, but with the rather disproportionate 
excess in width of 159 ft. The columns are G ft. in diameter and 
55 in height. Being of marble, it would really be a very fair kind of 
Walhalla, were it not that where the Cella ouglit to have been, we have 
instead a very ordinary commonplace two-storeyed college building 
enclosed in a cage of pillars. 

The United States Bank in the same city is a grand Grecian Doric 
temple — at one end at least — but with the same two storeys throughout 
in the Cella, with the additional incongruity that the upper storey has 
small, sc[uare, bedroom-Hke windows, which gi\e a great appearance 
of meanness to the whole. Though the Exchange of Philadelphia 
possesses all these solecisms, it is a far more pleasing specimen. Its 

Chap. V. 



circular colonnade, its belfry and general arrangement, evince an amount 
of thought and design seldom found in this country, and, the details, 
being Corinthian, it is saved from either vulgarity or meanness, though 
it has not any real architectural importance. 

There are a number of buildings of this class in the various cities 
of the Union, some of which are big, some rich, but not one, so far as is 
known in Europe, either remarkable for the design of its outline or the 
appropriateness of its details. The edifices on which the Americans 
have lavished their utmost energies are the State Capitols, in which the 
representatives of each of the independent States meet in Parliament. 

state Capitul, Ohio. 

One of the most recent and most admired, after that of Washington, is 
the one just completed for Ohio. This time the Order is Doric, and the 
design^ — or outline, at least — as severe as could be desired ; but the 
usual two storeys of windows, the chimneys, and other appendages 
which will not be hid, betray the fact that we are not looking at a 
temple, but a secular building of modern date which its architect 
squeezed into this mould in order to save himself trouble and the 
necessity of thinking. 

Most of the older Capitols have not the same pretensions as this 
one, and escape criticism accordingly ; but wherever ornament is 
employed, it is badly executed by the hands of amateurs, and in a 
country where the necessary means did not exist for even architects 
—if they had existed — to study and to inform themselves correctly 
as to what was really the right and proper course to pursue. 

z 2 




The Americans have probably even been less successful in their 
chui'ches than in their secular buildings ; and, considering how little 
ecclesiastical establishments enter into their system as compared with 
civil government, this is not to be wondered at. 

Down to a very late period America did not possess a single 
church that could rank higher than an ordinary parish church of the 
Hawksmoor or Gibbs' school, and none so splendid as St. Marti n's-in- 
the-Fields, St. George's Hanover Square, or any of our buildings of 
that class. Latterly, however, they have followed our footsteps in 
abandoning the Italian style in churches, and have adopted the 
so-called Gothic, though in this respect they are hardly so much 
advanced even now as we were twenty or thirty years ago, and are only 
getting through the sort of dilettanti amateur business that we shook 
off at that time. 

The American architects, however, labour under peculiar difficulties 
in this respect ; they have not that crowd of examples which meet an 
Englishman at every turn, and which he can study at all times without 
any effort ; so that, once he has thoroughly imbibed the spirit of the 
old examples, it is very difficult for him to do wrong. If it were 
possible to conceive the Americans taking the time and trouble neces- 
sary to think out a common-sense style, this ought to be an advantage, 
and they might really l:)ecome the authors of a ncAv form of Art ; but 
with a people in such a hurry it is fatal ; and they not only copy, but 
copy without understanding — a reproach that cannot now be applied to 
our architects in this country. 

One of the most ornate churches they haN'e yet erected is the 
so-called Grace Church in New York. If richness of ornamentation 
could make a building beautiful, it certainly is applied here in 
abundance. But the plan of the church is a mistake. A double-aisled 
transept is a feature belonging only to a cathedral : as applied here 
it dwarfs the whole and makes the design entirely inappropriate for a 
moderate-sized parish church. The spire also is far too high, too 
large for the rest. Internally the whole is vaulted (in plaster), and 
every feature such as would only be applicable to a more ambitious 


View of Grace Church, New York. 

class of edifice, and, even then, hardly to be found in so late a 

Calvary Church is a still more characteristic though much-admired 
example. It possesses two western spires, as at Cologne ; but the 
open-work of the upper part is only painted deal. And the Church of 
the Holy Redeemer, in Third Street, in a sort of Russo-Loml:)ardic style, 
it is extremely difficult to criticise. 

One great attempt at originality and magnificence the Americans 
certainly have made in the two temples which the Mormons have 
designed as the high places of their religion. It is not quite clear that 
the Temple at Nauvoo was ever completed, though in several books 
illustrations of it were pulilished. At all events, whate\"er was erected 
is now destroyed ; and that at Utah, which is meant to be a great 


improvement on the original design, is certainly, externally at least, 
the ngliest that ever was designed in any place and by any set of men 
for snch a purpose. The dimensions of these temples in plan were, 
however, very considerable, and their height in proportion. That at 
Xaiivoo, though intended, internally, to be only one hall, externally was 
four or five storeys in height, and resembled the Towu-hall at Louvain 
more than any other building in Europe ; but to make the resemblance 
at aU complete, it is necessary to realize the Belgian example carried 
out in plaster in the details of the Strawberry Hill style of Gothic, 
and with every solecism which ignorance of the style and vulgarity 
of feeling can introduce into a design. 

There is nothing in Europe so bad in an architectm'al point of 
view as these temples ; but, on a small scale, many of the American 
churches are nearly as inartistic, though, from their less preten- 
tious dimensions, they are not so offensive. All that, in fact, can 
be said with regard to them is, that, whatever faults we have committed 
in this respect, the Americans have exaggerated them ; and the disap- 
pointing part is, that they do not evince the least tendency to shake off 
our erroi-s in copying, which, in a new and free country, they might 
easily have done, while it must obviously be more difficult for us, 
where time and association have so sanctified the forms we are re- 

Some recent paragraphs in American pajjers (1S73) have announced 
that they are erecting, or are about to erect, in New York and elsewhere, 
some churches which are not only to surpass all they have done in 
this line before in America, but also, it is hinted, set an example that 
Europe might follow with advantage. Let us hope it may be so, Ijut 
till they pul)lish some work with the requisite illustrations, or that 
photography is enlisted to supply the necessary confirmation, Ave must 
be allowed to pause before expressing any opinion regarding them. 




[ApoLOG-y. — So much is now well known to us of the condition of 
Ai'chitecture in the great North American RepubHc, where so little 
seems to have been in any way appreciated twenty years ago, that 
a special apology ought to be oifered, if only in justice to our author, 
for the hasty opinions which he expresses so freely. In pursuance of 
the plan of editorship which has been adopted, nothing of the original 
text has been omitted or altered ; but, apart from this, it may be 
suggested that in the particular circumstances in which the architects of 
the United States are placed, comparatively relieved from the control of 
Enr()])ean tradition and discipline, remote from the influence of 
EurojiL'au example, and accustomed to great liberty of language, it is 
probably not to be desired by themselves that the severe but always 
shrewd criticisms of so plain-speaking a writer should have the vigour of 
tlieir authenticity abated. Those who on one side of the ocean are 
proud of American development because it is their own, and those \\"ho 
oil tlie other are almost as deeply interested in it because it belongs to 
their kindred, can equally accept and enjoy the contrast between what 
was thus w'ritten, certainly with sincerity, only a few years ago, and 
what has to be written with the same sincerity now ; and ]^erhaps it 
may be added that the censure of a man like Fergusson, api)lied as it is 
to America only on precisely the same grounds and for precisely the 
same shortcomings — and indeed in the same language — as to Europe, 
may ])ossibly ha^'e more effect for good in the one case, Avhere the mind 
of the artistic classes is so largely liberated from those confirmed 
perversities which still press all too heavily in the other. 

No doubt a thoroughbred American utilitarian is a sufficiently 
stubborn Philistine so far as he chooses to go. But it is a great 
mistake to suppose that he is un-able to stop where he sees reason so to 
do ; and any fairly representative man, when he is enabled to under- 
stand that something tangible and practical in art is offered for popular 
gratification, enhghtenment, or culture, or for patriotic pride, will probably 
appreciate its value to the people as a possession, an example, and an 
influence, a good deal more readily than a man of the same educational 
status in any of the old countries, excepting France alone. No one 


who has ever stood on American soil, even long ago, or who has enjoyed 
occasional intercourse with Americans, however unassuming in respect of 
accomphshments, can help perceiving the undeniable fact that westward 
the tide of empire is still holding its way. The fact is equally undeni- 
able, as a source of satisfaction to ourselves, that it is an Anglo-Saxon 
civilisation that is being developed in that wonderful land. Art tells 
the story ; and arcliitecture expressly, as it always does. 

Early Condition of American Architecture.— Up to the 
early part of the present century the Architecture of the United States, 
it will be frankly confessed, had not very much merit ; but it may be 
said fairly enough that in England the art was not so very much farther 
advanced as it ought to have been. When Trinity Church in the 
Broadway of New York (Plate 202a) was finished by Upjohn about 
1843, it was the only example of Gothic work in the country that 
possessed the imperfect merits of the ordinary English church-work of 
the day — which Pugin, by the way, was then so vehemently denouncing. 
Ecclesiastical design generally — all " denominations " being both free 
and equal in the most generous sense of the terms — was of the simple 
utilitarian English Nonconformist Order ; exhibiting in some cases 
good substantial quasi-academical style, more frequently the style of the 
quakerish meeting-house, occasionally not despising a cast iron stee]3le 
(as in Plate 292), and ^ery frequently indeed resting content with 
boarding for the waUs and with shingles for the roof. In the Northern 
cities there were public buildings of the standard European type, with a 
Palladian facade, a Greek portico, an Egyptian pronaos, or anything else 
that took one's fancy in the books. Great hotels, although not so large 
as those of later date, were of the ordinary barrack order ; and stores — 
that is, shops and warehouses — and private dwellings were sometimes 
built of stone or brick in the common English way, and sometimes of 
wooden framework and boarding. In the Southern States, the chief 
difference was that the ancestral families more frequently possessed 
country residences, and occasionally town-houses, which in their way, 
and on a small scale, were more like those of the English gentry ; the 
ecclesiastical and municipal edifices being very much the same as 
in the North. In both divisions of the country alike, professional 
architects were few in number, and decidedly backward in artistic 

Since that time several architectural influences have been steadily at 
work ; properly educated immigrants have come into the country ; 
young Americans have studied in Europe ; and the periodicals of 
England, France, and Germany — England especially — and the 
photographers of the whole -^vorld at large, have sent over such an 
abundance of illustrations of every class of artistic work as to leave 
nothing so far to be desired. Acting upon -the peculiarly unfettered 
intelligence of the native Americans, these motive-powers, it is easy to 




Trinity Church, New York. 

see, have produced — and must of necessity have produced — interesting 
and important results ; and consequently, in all parts of the Union, 
there are now to be found American architects, and examples of 
American architectural work, not only in respect of indi^■idual value 
extremely satisfactory, but in promise even more so. 

The Epoch of 1851. — The great movement of 1851 in London, 


destined as it was to awaken the energies of industrial art all o\'er the 
globe, made its very first impression in jlmerica. The organisation of a 
Universal Exhibition to be held in Nevr York in 185:^>, was immediately 
set on foot ; and if the material resources of the Old World were not at 
command, the mental activity and acuteness of the New went far to 
make up the deficiency. The effect upon architecture, although 
developed in an American way, has been of the same character as in 
England, Academical tradition, havhig but very feeble roots in 
America, was a consideration of little moment. On the other hand, the 
recognition of the divine right of the people at large to the possession of 
all that Ai-t, amongst other things, could be made to offer them, and to 
its enjoyment on their own level without asking leave of some one in 
the air, was a doctrine that required no discussion at all. Xo doubt it 
must be admitted that the mass of the American people, in matters of 
Art, have moved slowly, are moving slowly still, and must continue to 
move slowly for some time to come ; but when we look, as we have to 
do in all such cases, at those sections of the community which 
represent, albeit in a strictly popular way, its intellectual " light and 
leading," then it is ditficult to say wherein at this moment America has 
any reason at all to be dissatisfied with her progress. 

That the modern European style of architecture had originally to be 
accepted as the standard mode was matter of necessity ; for the modern 
European form of civilisation is that phase of culture which America 
has historically received, and whose development on fresh and free soil 
— free from traditionary ideas — is one of xlmerica's tasks in future 
history. Nor can it be objected to by even the most ambitiously 
independent of her sons that the great heritage of experimental design 
which the nineteenth century has received from the past should 
constitute the material for fresh endeavours in the New World as well as 
in the Old. Perhaps the time may not be coming soon when the New 
will strike upon a novel path. Perhaps the Old may have to lead the 
way. The originality or new national individuality of the Anglo-Saxon 
race may very likely assert itself in England first, while America is yet 
only in a state of preparation. But the young nation can aff"ord to wait ; 
and if she has at last to take up, with the vigour of youth, what her 
forerunner is to lay down in the fatigue of age, her future career may 
be all the more profitable to mankind, and none the less honoural)le to 
herself. Taking the great democratic empire of the Industrial Arts as 
one indiscriminate total of intellectual enterprise, America is indubitably 
making very good, and perhaps rapid, j^rogress ; this is the real question 
for consideration ; and it is enough to say for architecture, as only one 
among those Industrial Arts, if the chief of its class, that her progress is 
the same as in the others. In all the forms except one or two in which 
the influence of wealth has been exerted in modern times upon 
architectural art, the people of the United States have pro\'ed their 


possession of the most a])undant resources, and have employed them 
with the utmost liberality ; in the building, namely, of great national 
establishments at the public cost, luxurious residences for private 
citizens, and ambitious offices for commercial corporations. The 
monumental palaces of ostentatious royalty, and the stupendous temples 
of dominating faith, they do not require. 

Aftee the War.— The great Civil War of the early eighteen hundred 
and sixties, with the consequent readjustment of the social conditions of 
the Republic, constituted the commencement of a new era of national 
development ; and a new chapter of national culture was opened in Art 
as in all else. It is so clearly within the personal recollection of even 
young men, that it is scarcely necessary to remind the reader of the 
signally rapid progress which American artists have recently been making 
in emulation of the best artistic work of Europe. That i)ainters and 
sculptors of the highest aspirations have made their mark in the acade- 
mical exhibitions of Paris and London is well known and thoroughly 
appreciated ; and even if it were not the rule that the Arts march 
together, the most cursory examination of the design of American 
buildings must satisfy the European critic that architects also of no less 
genius are busily at work in the great Transatlantic cities. With regard 
to the arts of detail or " minor arts " of building, the same verdict 
may be pronounced, if the same prominence, at least in quantity, has not 
yet been attained in their display ; for indeed, in some of the luxurious 
embellishments which have been de^^eloped in the pri^'ate dwellings of her 
millionaires, and in the grand interiors of her public resorts, it is not too 
much to say that all the resources of European taste have been fully and 
successfully employed. No doubt it has to be acknowledged that the 
pre-occupation of the mind of the multitude by the unparalleled energy 
of commercial Imsiness, as a paramount social influence, tends to some 
extent in a direction contrary to the beneficial influence which is produced 
upon the Arts of a nation by the possession of a cultured class enjoying 
the repose of hereditary idleness ; but even this drawback does not 
appear to affect too seriously the success of those who as professional 
designers have the artistic progress of the Transatlantic commonwealth 
in their personal custody. The artists of the American cities, in a word, 
are adv^ancing in efficiency every day, and the ap]3reciative demand for 
their services is every day increasing. 

It may be convenient to admit, in a sense which the reader will easily 
understand, that, previously to the fresh start which the United States 
took in the march of their history at the close of the war, the condition 
of architecture had not generally improved even in the principal cities. 
Perhaps the Girard College and the State Capitol of Ohio (Plates 290 
and 291) may be taken as fair examples of the more stately class of 
pul)lic buildings, anomalously and often ostentatiously academical with- 
out, and commensurately inconvenient within. Even in those parts of 


the country which had been comparatively recently settled, such edifices, 
large and costly, were freqnently to be met with, having very littlg 
artistic merit even when there might be a good deal of ambition ; but 
in Xew York, Philadelphia, Boston,.and the other chief cities, there were 
many edifices of less importance, and chiefly of a commercial character, 
which were more in conformity with what was being done in London 
and Paris. The style most commonly adopted in these buildings was, 
as matter of course, the Modern European or ordinary ItaHan of the 
books ; and so far it is perhaps enough to say that the average American 
practitioner and the commonplace English practitioner of the pro- 
vincial towns were nearly on a level. As few if any of even the leaders in 
London could pretend to approach in Classic work the designers of Paris, 
and as no Frenchman at all could profess to compare with the Engiisli 
church-architects in Gothic, so the Americans, who had scarcely yet begun 
even to appreciate the peculiar enthusiasm of either of these rival schools, 
were quite entitled to be conteut to rank with the respectable mediocrity 
of the world at large. Upjohn and "Walter, and one or two others, had 
become distinguished : their names were known abroad. Several European 
immigrants, also, whether as masters or assistants, were beginning to make 
their mark ; and a few native pupils were being sent to finish their 
education in London and Paris and to travel in Italy. But the general 
body of average architects consisted of the unamljitious practical build- 
ing-surveyors of the trade, supplying indiscriminately, by reference to 
precedents, indifferent Classic and still more indifferent Gothic to the 
order of simple men of business like themselves. 

When the process of social resettlement after the war was fairly in 
progress, and the national mind was free to apply itself with rejuvenated 
vigour to matters of taste, the state of architecture in Englaiid and 
France was certainly peculiar. In London there was to be witnessed at 
the height of its bitterness the curious conflict between the Gothicists 
and the Classicists, which was known as " the Battle of the Styles ; " and 
in Paris the great building enterprises of Napoleon the Third were in 
full career. In Germany the dilettantism of King Ludwig at Munich 
had died away, and the great improvements in Berlin and Vienna were 
yet in the future. It was the unexampled " Hausmannisation " of the 
French capital, therefore, and the incomprehensible struggle of the 
Ejiglish controversialists, that chiefly furnished Americans with material 
for reflection. Xo Hausmann was to arise in Xew York ; nor was there 
any ground in Boston upon which to establish what Scott so forcibly 
called the " two hostile camps " of the London Institute. The inartistic 
eclectic feeling of mediocre business might not long continue in entire 
iwssession of the field, but public opinion could hardly be expected to 
shape itself upon either the strife of aesthetic doctrinaires or the magni- 
ficence of Imperial extravagance. The endeavours of the American 
designers would evidently have to be pursued for a time with consider- 


a1)le patience, before the national architecture could hope to make any 
demonstration of individuality, or even to assert itself at all in com- 
petition with the more advanced work of the Old World. 

Events move quickly, however, in America, and it was certainly not 
many years before the happy return of fraternity had begun to display 
its results in a marvellous development of national prosperity. The 
spread of the population over the immense territories of the Avest and 
south-west, even in its beginnings, was unexampled, and the accumulation 
of private wealth by commercial enterprise was almost more remarkable 
still. Architecture of course quickly responded to the demands of the 
situation. In the course of ten years or a little more we find going on 
in all parts of the Union, not merely large investments of capital in 
building, and not merely ambitious efforts in the direction of architec- 
tural embellishment, but a calm display of artistic feeling and 
professional artistic skill which caixnot be too highly connnended ; and 
it must now be evident to all architectural critics who will take the 
trouble to look at current examples, whether in the actual buildings or by 
photographs or drawings of them, that at the present moment there are 
architects in practice in every quarter of the United States whose know- 
ledge and power of design, in all its detail, and in all its available 
varieties, is, man for man, little if at all below the best standards of 
the European professions. And it may be safe to add, taking the most 
skilful architects of America as a body, that there is displayed in nuich 
of their work a certain artistic courage, combined with artistic good 
sense, which seems to be characteristic of that liberated intelligence of 
the Great Republic, which in so many other matters is now recognisable 
as one of the leading agencies in the world. 

The Importation of European Styles.— The superficial extent of 
the territory of the United States is so vast, and the enterprise of the 
population is so universally distributed — there are so many States, each 
with its own sovereign people, its own independent idiosyncrasy, its own 
social conditions, its own financial resources, its own climate, its own 
materials, and its own architects — that it is much more difficult than in 
any of the European countries to survey with confidence the progress of 
the art. There is no metropolis, like London, Paris, Berlin, or Vienna, 
where the best of e^'ery thing within a large radius is condensed and its 
control centralised. Distribution, free and equal, is the primary law of 
the commonwealth ; the minor does not look to the major for an example, 
nor the new to the old. Many ambitious cities, not one, have therefore 
to be regarded with almost equal attention. What is more, the peculiar 
connection of different sections of the American people, Avhetherby birth, 
education, or commercial intercourse, with all the nations of Europe 
severally, has this effect upon architectural style, that the several 
systems of England, France, Germany, Italy, and even Scandinavia, are 
all ready to be imported, and all to be approved. To cover so much 


ground, therefore, and so much new ground, and in such novel circum- 
stances, by describing with any minuteness or precision the advance of so 
subtle a thing as architectural taste, is more than can be promised here, 
or even attempted. But nevertheless there seem to be certain more or less 
striking characteristics in the general scope of American design, which 
may at least be commented upon in what detail is possible, if only as a 
critical rather than a historical exercise. America, in short, architectur- 
ally as well as otherwise, is still a new world, whose hopes and fears are 
mainly in the future, and whose historian must spring from the soil. 

It stands to reason that the systems or styles of design which were in 
use in Europe should be directly imported, and that in all their detail 
they should be identifialjle Avith what was being done in Europe at the 
time. That is to say, Americaji architects as a school nmst he regarded 
as part and parcel of the established school of Europe — of England, 
France, Germany and Italy — following the practice of those countries as 
their own. The Americans are the Europeans in America ; and therefore, 
making every allowance for the independent spirit of the people, their 
freedom of thought, and what may consequently be called their natural 
desire to be original, anytliing short of this adherence to the custom 
of Europe would be so far impossil)le. But there is more than one way 
in which the imported styles might be dealt with, and the American 
way of dealing with them is characteristic. 

There are only two distinct academical sciiemes of European design 
which have been effectively accepted in America, namely, the English and 
the French. The German work of the present day is not overlooked, 
but it is regarded as virtually the same as the French. Tlie Italian 
is also viewed as the same. The French scheme in question is the 
Neo-Grec of the Parisian ateliers, the latest refinement of the 
Modern European Classic. But it does not go far in America ; the 
appreciation of its peculiar finesse involves too much of that special 
cultivation of French taste which the Americans are not disposed to 
undertake. The great bulk of the practical work follows the English 
scheme therefore ; and the reason seems chiefly to be, not only that it is 
less troublesome, but that it is so exceedingly comprehensive as to satisfy 
all demands. For the actual practice of the present day in England 
embraces the following elements : — the academical Italian Renaissance 
in all its phases (the French included to a certain extent) ; the 
ecclesiastical Gothic of all periods, not only from England itself, -but 
from France, Italy, and Germany ; the Romanesque as a variety of 
this ; Secular Gothic at large ; with Elizabethan for those who still 
believe in it, and for others " Queen Anne " or Flemish and North 
German Renaissance and Rococo generally ; besides several modes for 
manipulating villas, country houses, and miscellaneous suburban and rural 
buildings, to make them pleasant and picturesque. No other country in 
the world can compare with England in this respect ; and when we take also 


into account the fact that the popular American mind is, in spite of all its 
cosmopolitanism, an Anglo-Saxon mind, and an Enuiisli mind, more than 
enough has been said to explain the reason Avhy the practice of Architecture 
ill the United States is almost universally based upon English practice. 

The first work of the new school in the United States was Trinity 
('lunx'h (English Episcopalian) in New York (Plate 292«), which was 
liegun aljout l.S-lO and finished about 1843. It is still regarded as one 
of the finest Gothic edifices in America. Although of course it has been 
excelled as respects style by many later examples, it Avas certainly very 
good work for its day. Before long Pugin's teaching made itself felt, but 
it cannot be said to have produced the eftect it did in England. Young 
English architects of Gothic taste, stich as Withers and Yanx, presently 
made their appearance in the chief cities ; whilst native Americans, 
Potter, Richardson, Wight, Ware, Yan Brunt, lienwick, and many 
others equally deserving of mention, some edticated abroad but most of 
them at home, have worthily followed them, so that good medieval work 
has lieen for many years at command throughout the Union to any 
extent that might be required. 

Of other eminent men — some English, French, and German — the 
names may be mentioned at random of Walter (the architect of the 
additions to the Washington Caijitol and the Girard College), Diaper, 
Mould, Hunt, Eidlitz, Lienau, McArtlmr, McLaughlin, Pryce, Rol^ertson, 
Congdon, Peabody, Cabot, Hill, Post, Chandler, and so on, all good 
and true men and worthy of any country ; under whose dexterous hands 
the old-fashioned character of the former American building, prosaic 
and dull even when on the largest scale, has completely changed, so 
that graceful and picturesque edifices, of all degrees of magnitude, of all 
classes, and of all styles, are to be found everywhere. Not that any one 
can venture to speak of the more commonplace American architecture 
as always even moderately good according to advanced standards ; such 
^vould unfortunately be far from the fact, in any country ; but what is 
remarkalile in America — taking, as we ought of course to do in so new 
a country, not the commonplace l)ut the best — is the fact that the pubUc 
taste of so vast a territory, so new to culture, so remote from the old 
headquarters, and so impatient of European tradition, should be equal at 
all to the appreciation of the superior artistic building which for the last 
twenty years has been so frequently accepted. 

Timber-Work axd Irox. — There are two peculiar modes of 
construction which must be mentioned in respect of direct influence on 
the style of American architectural design ; namely, woodwork and iron- 
woi-k. Wooden Iniildings of the commonplace kind, constructed of timber 
framing covered with boarding, are in the majority in all parts of the 
country alike except the leading towns, and are still considered by many 
to be superior in principle to the more pretentious minority called 
bv the name of " stone houses." They are, it is argued, warmer in 



Book IX 

winter and cooler in snnmier, more easily and ([uickly l»nilt, more easily 
erdarji'ed or altered, capable of being actually moved about when necessary, 
and of course more economical. They are sufficiently durable also, and 
not much if at all in greater danger from fire. Be all this howe\er as 
it may, the desire to render them decorative has been exhibited in many 
cases in the production of exceedingly good and characteristic designs by 
architects of eminence ; so that it may be said with great truth that a 
national art of domestic timber building of the Anglo-Saxon type has 
begun to be created in America, the accommodation within being of the 


usual English order, and the outer aspect in full accord, in many 
varieties, with the customary rural style of English villas, l^late 21)2/', 
a country retreat called Glenchalet, represents a specimen of wooden 
building which, although much more highly ornamental than the 
ordinary type, may (all the better on that account) serve to show what 
has actually been achieved in the most ambitious form. The design in 
this histance will be recognised as of the Norwegian tyjie : but in almost 
all cases the style which is being developed is indigenous to the country, 
not following even such a mode as the old English timber-work, but 
rather seeking, with very moderate attempts at characteristic ornamen- 


tatioii, to make the "frame house" more substantial and presentable as a 
permanent institution, a thing which it is by no means difficult to do. 

On the other hand, as regards iron construction, the state of things 
is very different. The idea that iron has a " future " as a building 
material is one that has long been fondly entertained by many, and 
frequently acted upon. Cast iron has been used for framing and 
ornament, rolled iron also for framing, and cast iron, boiler-plate, and 
sheet iron in one form after another for covering. But the weak point 
is always the same, and always in evidence — the unfortunate facility of 
oxidation. AVitli the slightest damp comes the rust, and its corrosion is 
as rapid and incural)le as it is inevitable ; at all events, no practical 
process of either prevention or cure has yet been contrived, except, of 
course, the inartistic and ineffectual expedient of contiiuially applying 
fresh coatings of paint — inartistic Ijccause the authenticity of the material 
is effaced, and ineffectual because the corrosion still goes on. It need 
not be denied, of course, that in sucli works as bridges and extensive 
roof-coverings, the emjiloyment of malleable iron may be quasi-artisti- 
cally dealt with easily enough ; the mere features of the scientific 
trussing suffice to tell the tale of the material so as to satisfy the 
judgment, and there need not be any difficulty in producing forms and 
proportions that are grateful, or in accomplishing a decorative effect that 
is pleashig in detail ; and indeed, the indispensable paint may itself 
Ijecome, if well considered, an additional and appropriate source of 
artistic adornment. When, however, the problem is how to design an 
iron wall, this seems to be quite another matter. A skeleton of iron- 
work filled in with glass may no douljt be designed quite appropriately, 
and, if gracefully, artistically : but it is on the face of it a sort of 
temporary and unsubstantial structure — a conservatory, an exhibition- 
building, even a market, or the like, but scarcely a house, and still less a 
monumental edifice. Adventurous Americans, with an evidently strong 
desire to utilise an inviting material, appear to have recognised this 
emph'ical principle : and the utmost length to which they have carried 
out any serious intention of formulating a system of iron building of a 
superior class is the contrivance of street fronts, chiefly for stores or 
warehouses. The ornamental features have been chiefly if not entirely 
composed of cast iron, and here and there a tasteful architect has so far 
achieved success as to produce harmonious proportions and decorative 
details : but in most cases the whole composition, as regards the language 
of architecture, has been only a counterfeit in metal of stone forms, and 
almost of stone proportions : and the judgment of the expert, therefore, 
is frequently not merely unsitisfied, but scandalised. In a word, to 
construct a framework of iron, wliether cast, or malleable, and fill it in 
with iron plates, or thin Ijrick panelling, stone or concrete slabs, or 
timber work and lath and cement, does not commend itself as a recognis- 
able form of architectural building, but rather as a makeshift ; and to 

VOL. II. 2 a 


292c. Iron Front, New York. 

decorate it with metal ornameuts makes the case worse. If iron construc- 
tion really should have " a future," America is the land where it is most 
likely to be developed, but it may safely be said that such a future is as 


yet a long way off. Plate 2i)2c represents the iron facade of a Imsiness 
house in New York, by Hunt, which Avill probably be considered to be 
sufficiently characteristically designed as well as pleasingly proportioned 
and modelled. Not only has the eminent architect expressly avoided 
the encumbrances and embarrassments which are necessarily incidental to 
the acceptance of the academical features and forms of stone architecture, 
whether Classic or MediaBval, but he exhibits every desire to devise, and 
with a most judicious reticence and reserve, if not novelty, at least 
appropriateness. We need not grudge him the Corinthian capitals of his 
shafts, or the Mediaeval canopy which constitutes his main cornice : and 
on the whole, if he does not appear to solve the problem once for all how 
to design an iron fagade in full detail, we may at any rate admit that he 
has produced a composition which is decidedly unobjectionable and not 
inartistic, whilst so many other attempts of the same kind have been in 
Iwth respects so exasperating, and especially on American ground. 

The Professional Guild and Journalism. — Perhaps it may 
be taken as a significant circumstance — at any rate by those who cherish 
the doctrine that Architecture is in itself a historical record — that at 
the conclusion of the Civil War there was immediately set on foot a 
professional organization of architects for the whole Union, with a well 
conducted and well illustrated weekly paper, by whose means, amongst 
others, European critics have ever since been enabled to compare 
Transatlantic work with their own. The effect produced upon the 
practice of the art on American soil by this answer to the challenge of 
the European journals with their illustrations has been most salutary. 
There appeared at once in these American plates many examples of very 
good work, past, present, and imaginary ; but it cannot be disputed that 
during subsequent years the quality of the design, and no less of the 
draughtsmanship, has been so steadily advancing, that it is not too much 
to say the English practitioner nmst sometimes feel inclined to envy the 
opportunities which are permitted on the other side of the ocean for 
indulging one's fancy with so much freedom from restraint. 

Philistinism. — It is often suggested that the typical American is 
more of a confirmed Philistine, or opponent of sentimentality, than the 
Englishman ; but this is surely a mistake. The English Philistine is an 
anti -sentimentalist ; the American is only a non-sentimentahst. The 
Englishman opposes what he is weary of. He seeks in the respectable 
utilities and creature comforts a refuge from what he regards as the over- 
strained and nonsensical affectations of gesthetic doctrinaires. They are 
boring him for ever with the application of mere traditional and indeed 
ol:)Solete principles of enjoyment, invoking artificial imagination and 
conventional taste, and he wishes to escape from the infliction. Amongst 
other things, he is able to affirm that the observant English citizen and 
tax-payer has, in respect of architectural display, suffered so frequently 
and so severely as to be able to say it has been almost invariably, and in 

2 A 2 


41 direct ratio with the dignity of the enterprise. EngHsh (Jovernnient 
building, somehow — as compared, for instance, with the corresponding 
business of the French — seems so seldom to come at all right in the end, 
and so often to go quite ^M'oiig from the beginning, that architects are 
obUged to console themselves with the conclusion that this nuist be part 
of the price we pay for our constitutional administration : whereas, on the 
other hand, the constitutional administrators — who have the advantage 
of the last word in all such controversies — declare that, in spite of all 
their business-like control, it is the architects wlio, \vheiR'\er the idea of 
fine building gets into their minds, lose their heads entirely. Thus arises 
the well-known Philistinism of the British legislator as regards architec- 
ture especially : and perhaps the impartial criticism of cultured foreigners 
may be found to pronounce it excusable. But on the other side of the 
Atlantic the Philistine is not a positive anti-sentimentalist at all, but a 
negative non-sentimentalist. He is not worn-out with enjoyment, but 
only sceptical. Show him that the enjoyment of the Arts is real, and 
he will sui)}iort their claims : and not for the sake of their past, but with 
an eye to his own future. The dead man's hand overshadows all in the 
Old AVorld : in the New there is only the hand of the living. 

Style. — Upon the resettlement of society, and the return of the 
public mind to such products of peace as Architecture, the free and 
inde]iendent character of American thought soon began to assert itself. 
It would be idle to suggest that anything of the nature of a native 
American style of design at once made its appearance, for that would be 
impossible : but the acceptance of prevailing systems was the acceptance 
of them all, and all at their best. Nowhere else was the variety of style 
in superior work so great. In fact, European practice was epitomised ; 
and this was obviously a characteristic condition of things. There 
was a large quantity of inferior work, of course (as there must be every- 
where), of which we say nothing ; and there was a very creditable propor- 
tion of mediocre work, entitled to almost more respect than in Europe ; 
but there was also a considerable amount of superior work, and this 
exhibited the English, French, and German modes all in perfection. 
Some have called it a mere medley of imitation ; but as soon as the 
European styles began to act upon each other, a process of development 
came into view. Its manifestation followed two lines in particular, 
namely, a special attention to the grace of grouping — derived from 
the. French — and a com'ageous emulation of the bolder effects of 
Mediieval work, derived from the English : both of these objects behig 
assisted to the utmost by a combination of the best characteristics of 
French and English draughtsmanship. 

The modern English architect, as a rule, is not merely neglectful of 
grouping as nuttter of education, but in a certain way is incapacitated 
from attempting it by a habit of excessive economy in respect of land. 
There is, consequently, a certain want of foothold and of elbow-room which 


has become almost cliaracteristic of even superior En<i,iish l)uildiii<^'S 
eveiywhere ; while on the Continent this parsimony of space has never 
Vjeen permitted to prevail to the same extent. In America also, although 
crowdinf^ to the utmost is no doubt well understood in some parts of the 
great towns, yet elsewhere there seems to be a better appreciation of the 
grace of spaciousness. The sense of amplitude in a new country, and 
the expansiveness of national spirit in a young community, seem to 
exercise a beneficial influence over the arcliitect's instincts. There is also 
another element in recent English design which the Americans generally 
have declined to accept, namely, the fashion — for it is nothing ihore — 
of attaching a tower to the extremity of a composition, a thing which in 
most cases is apt to prove fatal to the principle of repose in grouping, 
Barry's Houses of Parliament, with the Victoria Tower at one extreme 
corner and the Clock Tower at the other, constitute a most extraordinary 
example of tliis eccenti'icity, and probal)ly led the fashion which has 
been so widely followed in England ever si)ice. The real effect of such 
an arrangement is little else than to direct attention demonstratively 
to that consideration which is the very least of all in artistic import- 
ance, namely, the mere size of the ground plan. French or Italian, 
or even German architects of high class, do not allow themselves to 
scatter their composition in such a way ; and the Mediaeval designers 
never did so intentionally. As a rule it will be found that the Americans 
have preferred the same attitude, and have indeed specially cultivated, 
e\-en in small rural villas and other minor works, essentially English 
otlierwise, the proper finesse of pyramidal effect, which is always so 
satisfactory to the eye. 

RiCHARDSOX. — The peculiar form in which the imitation of the Ijolder 
forms of Continental European Gothic has been adopted by certain 
American designers during the last twenty yeara is another very remark- 
able circumstance ; and the mention of the name of 'Richardson will 
serve to indicate more precisely what is here alluded to. Richardson in 
America has received the distinguished honour of being canonised, after 
the manner of Burges and Street in England. Like both of those able 
artists, he died in middle age, and at the height of his mental power and 
personal influence as a leader iu ambitious artistic effort. Although he 
had not been much engaged upon the very largest class of public Avorks, he 
left behind him a considerable number of buildings possessing a certain 
novel individuality of style, exceedingly robust in character, generally 
graceful, and in a certain way professing to be nationally American. He 
also had many pupils and many admirers, and therefore not a few 
imitators ; so that he is considered to have founded a school. But 
there is an interesting critical lesson to be learnt here. If architectural 
originality were possible anywhere at the present time it might Vje in 
America ; and Richardson might very likely have been the man to be 
original ; but it is quite enough if we are able to say that he derived his 


inspiration from an unnsnal source, and employed his imitative genius 
in an unusual manner. What he seems to have done historically was 
this — he grasped the spirit of the Romanesque, and adapted it to the state 
of feeling of the Northern States. After a national death struggle, in 
which Spartan and Puritan endurance had with great difficulty gained 
the victory, the Northern people were in no sportive or smiling mood — 
in no way disposed towards the elegancies. The bent of Richardson's 
mind as a student in Paris had gone of itself in the same sombre direc- 
tion. He delighted in the heavy round arclnvays of the early Mediaeval 
modes, the broad blank walls, the excoriated masonry, the massive, 
muscular, gladiator-like crudities of the times when neither Church nor 
State had an-ived at the enjoyment of purple and fine linen — the times 
when France and Germany were young, like jimerica now. When he 
commenced practice he had for his competitors exotic English Gothicists, 
exotic French Neo-Greeks, and miscellaneous native American " Modern 
Euroj^eans " and Eclectics ; and he seems to have felt that all were 
very well in their way, but none in harmony with the temper of the 
passing hour on American ground. What he desired to do, apparently, 
was not to challenge these with a palpably exotic Romanesque, but 
to offer in their company a sort of old Puritanical European — no 
matter how inspired — no matter from what part of the universal 
inheritance of Art derived — an adventurous peculiarity of treatment 
brought out of the Old World into the Now, but by no means taken from 
the bookshelves cut and dry. This he seems to have done, moreover, 
wholly without that violence and aggressiveness which characterised the 
proceedings of Pugin and Street in England and their followers, and 
which occasioned the Battle of the Styles. There was no such conflict in 
America ; and there has been no Richardson in England, nor any 
innovation like his. He was a Burges puritanised ; but Burges was not 
a Richardson. 

Perhaps no artistic contrast could possibly be more striking than 
that which exists between those two Anglo-Saxon fashions of the present 
moment — the Richardson style in America, and the " Queen Anne " in 
England ; the one based upon the crude muscularity of the period which 
immediately preceded the Middle Ages ; the other on the medley of 
h^ic-a-hrac into which the Middle Ages, when quite decrepit, eventually 
passed : the one wielding in heroic joy the huge rough scabbled masonry 
of Titans ; the other genteelly picking its way amidst paltry red Ijrickwork 
and the decayed garniture of brokers' shops. The manner of Richardson 
is worthy of the name of an original American style if the Americans 
are pleased to say so. Its primary elements are these : rough rustic 
stonework for the wall-facing wherever eligible ; exceedingly bold and 
massive Romanesque detail, Italian, French, or Spanish at pleasure ; the 
wide, heavy, low-browed, semicircular-arched doorway, as a specially 
favourite feature, with its deep voussoirs strongly emphasised and its 

Chap. VII. 



dark shadowy porch within — the focus of the composition and the 
__founda tiQ n of its motive ; then the arcade to correspond ; the campanile, 
rising like a cliff in unbroken breadth and stern repose, but surmounted, 
if you will, hj what elegancy may suit the purpose of the moment ; the 
range of windows as a crude colonnade, columnar arcade, or the like, in 
long unbroken line ; the crux-tower hugely large and low (see Plate 
292r/) ; the semicircular apse, or staircase, or turret, or what not, boldly 
prominent in the facade ; and, if it can be accomplished, the use of 


Trinity Church, Boston. 

jyarions colours in the stonework. To all this Richardson added 
occasionally the ungroupable corner tower ; and some of his work has no 
l)ase ; but such treatment is in neither case characteristic of his style. 
In his iuteriore his ambition was precisely the same— to put the work 
into strong naked health and honesty rather than into any dainty and 
littenuated'^ attire. It may be added that he had a constitutional dislike 
lor the standard French mode, of which he had seen so much in Paris ; 
that he did not find much to admire in the current English work ; and 
that his personal taste was not ecclesiastical. He was all American and 



Book IX. 

non-academical ; and in that light particularly we ought to read his 
work and be prepared to recognise its artistic influence. 

Trinity Church, Boston, is regarded by many to be Richardson's 

leading production (Xo. 292d). That it is a work of refined 
intellectuality will scarcely be affirmed ; but the muscularity of it, 
its courageous defiance of even Gothic delicacies, its reliance upon 


the spectator's sense of mere vigorous manhood, are everywhere 

The AVinn Memorial Library (Xo. 292^) is a much more character- 
istic work of Eichardsou's, aud will probably be prouomiced by most 
readers to be a design of extraordinary power, originality, and elegance 
comliined. The use of very rough-dressed stone facing is here 
conspicuous, the scale of the building being small. "WTiether the 
crocketed roofs are to be admired, even as an additional element of nide 
muscularity, may be questioned. 

The cavernous entrance-porch which is identified with Richardson's 
style is not illustrated in either of these examples, but the idea has 
laid hold upon the American mind very forcibly. It is not uncommon 
for architects of the later Richardsonian school, notably in domestic 
buildings of an importance quite insufficient for such demonstrativeness, 
to recess the doorway several feet, and give access to it by a single 
archway in the flush front wall, in height scarcely raised above the 
semicircle, and serving no purpose but to render the door as dark and 
dismal as the gateway of a prison might be, so that one is inclined to 
look for the jiortcullis. If the reader will imagine the porch of the 
"Winn Liljrary (Xo. 202?) to be divested of its side lights altogether, 
and the front archway made a semicircle, with the springing about a 
yard above the ground line, this would make it a fashionable American 
porch, especially if we add the deep Spanish arch-stones. The muscu- 
larity of tlie idea is undeniable, but the affectation is palpable. 

Ecclesiastical Design. — In jDi-oceeding to speak more in detail of 
the actual craftsmanship of architecture in the United States during the 
last five-and-twenty years, it is natural, as it is customary, to draw a 
■strong line of demarcation between ecclesiastical and secular work. But 
this distinction does not exist in the form to which we are accustomed 
in Europe. There is no Xational Church, not even a dominant sect, not 
even a militant sect, not even a popular sect, not even a fashionable sect, 
but all divisions agree to dwell together in a harmony of mutual 
non-interference -which in England it is impossible to conceive. The 
consequence is that one ecclesiastical edifice differs from another only 
according to the wealth of the congregations, no distinction of any 
kind l;)etween consecrated church and unconsecrated chapel being ever 
heard of in public opinion ; and the result in respect of architectural 
-design is exactly what might be expected. As an almost invariable rule 
the churches are of any comfortable plan of interior that may suit the 
convenience of the audience and the preacher — one can scarcely say the 
ritual or ceremonial, far less the obligations of tradition or ancient 
history. The style in the Itest examples is Gothic, and seems likely so 
to continue in concert with the present indiscriminate English custom. 
Most of the designs are of poor merit ; but very many are on a 
creditable average, and some are exceedingly good. The treatment is 




Koman Catholic Cathedral, New York. 

Chap. YII. 




St. James's Church, New York. 

sometimes, however, as free as the sects are equal ; and the prominently 
unconventional work is often amongst the best. Showy ambition is nob 
altogether uncommon (See No. 292/) ; and luxurious furniture gives to 



Book IX. 

Methodist Church, New York. 

the interiors a charming appearance of domesticity which would liorrify 
those good people here who prefer discomfort at church as a foil to the 
enjoyments of home. The Episcopalians, of the English National Church 

Chap. VII. 



and others, are not to any great extent bound by the English form of 
plan ; but they possess many examples of good academical Gothic. The 
Eoman Catholics have built equally academically, and sometimes under 
English architects such as the Pugins. But otherwise the rule is liberty 
of taste ; and perhaps the most interesting circumstance connected with 
this attitude is a fre(|uent dislike for the pointed arch. Bold round-arch 
Gotliic — not Eomanesque — seems to be almost a standing problem for 
development (Nos. 292/^ and 2920, the rose window being a favourite 
feature. Xo doul)t this condition of practice is due to a definite 
national feeling ; and we may perhaps identify it with the instinct of 

Church at Ann- Arbor, Michigan. 

practical and positive modernisation which is naturally essential to the 
country. Some of the rural church work, again, is very good Gothicised 
timber-work ; a highly creditable circumstance critically where wooden 
building has to be so much adopted. During the last few years the 
design and execution of details have also been improving very greatly. 
As would be supposed, some of the churches are designed in various 
phases of Classic style, but generally without novelty. The Jewish 
synagogues are somewhat affectedly Byzantine. Speaking at large, 
American originality often carries with it palpable crudeness ; but there 
is a certain prominent solidity of motive which is always a redeeming 
characteristic. A comparison of Upjohn's Trinity Church in Xew York 


(Plate 292f/, 1840-45) and Richardson's Trinity Church in Boston 
(No. 2'i2(l, 1872-76) as two masterpieces of American ecclesiastical 
building, makes a suggestive study. 

Secular Gothic. — The Secular Gothic in America is seldom 
praiseworthy ; it followed upon English precedents, and was always a 
few years behind them : generally it was no worse, frequently quite as 
good, and never any better. All this is as we should expect. When, 
however, the Mediaevalist mode has been employed in the railroad 
stations, it seems to have blossomed out into a good deal of vulgarity. 
This also we might perhaps expect ; at any rate an American, if not an 
Englishman, will at once admit that there is no very clear connection 
between thS rackety business of the modern iron horse and the solemn 
conditions of the ancient cloister. By the way, it is observable that in 
Secular, as in Ecclesiastical Gothic, the round arch is very decidedly 
preferred to the pointed. It need scarcely be added that American 
Secular Gothic is often exceedingly free and easy, and that, even when 
so far successful, it is necessarily crude ; but here again it has to be 
acknowledged that there is a certain absence of thinness, wiriness, and 
" legginess," which enables it to compare favourably with some of our 
most popular work of the same class in England. 

The Ordinary Classic. — The most common public buildings 
during the last quarter of a century have been State Capitols or 
Parliament-houses, court-houses and post-offices (generally combined), 
custom-houses, hospitals, colleges, asylums, libraries, art-galleries, and 
other such establishments, and great hotels. These have been generally 
designed after the Modern European Classic ; and the banks, insurance- 
offices, and other edifices of importance for commercial business, have 
been usually of a similar style. But here again freedom from academical 
restraint has been the order of the day ; for the sanctity of colourless 
commonplace authenticity, which in England is a fixed principle, is no 
more regarded in America than the sanctity of any other inconvenience. 
On the whole, however, the result has been not unsatisfactory ; and 
indeed in a majority of instances the buildings belonging to the 
Government will be found to be eminently well designed, and certainly 
no worse, possibly better, than corresponding edifices in England. This 
is no doubt due to the influence of the education of so many American 
pupils in Paris. At the same time it cannot be affirmed that modern 
French work is popular in America : the national taste seems to be 
English. The feminine finesse of the French detail, charming as it is, 
may be said always to pall upon the ruder taste of the Anglo-Saxon, as 
if wanting in virile vigour : and this comes to be all the more 
observable in what is practically an Anglo-Saxon land with the 
backwoods still extant. To put the case otherwise, it is as if the busy 
American finds it much too troublesome to thread his way through 
Parisian elegancies, and prefers the easier task of grasping in a moment 


the more muscular if less refined graces, more stimulating if less 
permanently satisfying, of the English taste. But even if it he so, there 
can be little doubt of this, for instance — that the detached buildings, in 
American minor towns, show a frequent improvement upon the EngUsh ; 
and this most notably, perhaps, in the article of grouping, whether of 
masses or of features, in Avhicli the French so much excel. Moreover, 
the American seems to permit himself to be habitually a man of large 
ideas ; so that the architect is not so much afraid as in England lest his 
pencil should run away with him, or his client trip him up for 
extravagance. It is not that judicious economy can be disregarded 
anywhere, but there is a sort of cheeseparing admitted too generally into 
English architecture which is no part of judicious economy ; it is a 
gratuitous and wholly vicious instinct of parsimony, and there is an 
appearance in American work of this vice being comparatively absent as 
a governing principle in what ought to be superior work. Every one 
knows liow , the French complete their buildings fully, carvings and 
sculptures included ; while the English seem to take a strange delight in 
demonstratively leaving them unfinished and bankrupt, with empty 
niches, unoccupied pedestals, truncated towers, unfurnished panels, and 
actually uncut bosses and corbels. The xlmericans at least show a 
rational desii'e to round off their work creditably, and avoid beforehand 
what profusion they cannot afford, rather than put themselves in the 
mean j^osition of having brought their banking account to an 
unexpected end. 

In the more common street building of the cities, amidst a great 
deal of inferior design, whether mistaken, or meagre, or no design at all, 
there is evidenced, in comparatively more instances perhaps than in 
England, a disposition to make a considerable display in the architecture 
of warehouses, stores, mihs, manufactories, and private people's 
'' Buildings," including " Apartment houses," or great, blocks divided 
into suites of rooms for residences. In all such edifices, no doubt, ths 
freedom of the national character is apt to exhibit itself in a little 
advertising, and sometimes a good deal ; lint it may be argued that, so 
long as this is kept within proper bounds, it is obviously the lifeblood of 
private architecture. At any rate, the work that is produced in this 
Avay is often not only courageous, but exceedingly meritorious (see 
Plate 2'32Jc) ; and that is the real question to be considered. A certain 
repose is still found to prevail in most cases of importance, and a 
largeness of ideas, we might almost say a certain dignified gravity. 
Rustic masonry of the Richardsonian style is occasionally used. Iron 
fagades, on the other hand, although sometimes sufficiently well devised 
by accomplished architects, are quite as frequently the fantastic and 
anomalous attempts of more original because less thoughtful persons. 
Generally speaking, the individuality of manner in street architecture, 
which in Eno-land is made a matter of congratulation, while in France 



Book IX. 

Ames Building, Boston. 

it is SO very much subdued for the sake of harmouy in the general 
effect, is in American to\vns quite unrestrained. How far it is critically 
correct to constitute a town an architectural museum, in which the 
greatest amount of variety of style in the examples shall be held to 

Chap. VII. 



constitute the strongest claim to approbation, is a question that seems to 
be worthy of discussion in England ; but in American cities the con- 
fusion is much greater than in England, although the worst of it will 
no doubt gradually disappear as the average of artistic skill improves. 
The suburban and rural Domestic Architecture of America has 
advanced more remarkably than any other branch of the art. Villas of 
moderate size have become very numerous, and they often exhibit both 
an ingenious variety and an artistic courage in a very remarkable 
degree. Plate 292? shows the boldness with which a small villa can be 
treated even in far distant California. More recently the larger fortunes 

House at Los Angeles, California. 

of mercantile speculators have induced the building of what are already 
called country seats, some of which have become not only of large 
dimensions, but of highly decorative character both without and within. 
The English motives of design have been almost universally accepted,, 
with lilieral and often highly advantageous modifications. The 
effect of masterly draughtsmanship has also been very remarkable 
indeed, producing, not only well composed and especially well grouped 
designs, but graceful, piquant, and original developments in all 
directions. No doubt there is a good deal that is rather hyper- 
picturesque, especially sometimes in the article of roofs ; but the timber 
work is of a very advanced order, bold, novel, and even richly ornamental. 
VOL. II. 2 B 


Lately the " Queen Anne " fashion has been to some extent favoured, 
but its quaintness cannot be said to suit the sobriety of the national 
mind ; it is weak, and if it claims to be jesting, it is not in the 
American way. 

Interior work and furniture have been progressing very much after 
the English manner, and the minor arts have been acquiring moral 
courage, grace, ind popularity. 

Competition contests are frequent, and they appear to be applied to 
smaller business than in England. Some of the designs are exceedingly 
good examples of composition ; and, inasmuch as artistic ambition is so 
much less restrained than with us, it will be all the more readily 
believed that the designs which are unsuccessful because of lieing too 
ambitious are often of very high merit indeed. 

It may be a fit conclusion to these observations on the recent 
architecture of the New World to take a glance at two or three questions 
which may induce the reader, whether across the ocean or at home, to 
reflect upon the future prospects of the art. 

By Whom is Aechitecture Appreciated ? — It is well known 
how little the architectural design of buildings is " understanded of the 
people." In respect of those intricate considerations of expression, form, 
proportion, and decorative treatment, which constitute the work of the 
architect, who besides himself recognises them ? Observe what 
amazing blunders are committed, as mere matter of course, by the 
inexpert, even when the enthusiasm of the connoisseur is at its very 
best. The pencil of an accomplished painter, excej^t in such rare 
instances as a Canaletti or a Rol)erts, wanders aimlessly over the 
delineation of simple details which are before his very eyes at the 
moment. Even the measuring surveyor and the builder are helpless, 
when only called upon to select a moulding. Learned dilettanti are 
equally at fault, even when posing as critics. Of journalists it is best 
to say nothing. But it is dangerous even to trust the professional 
designer of furniture and ornaments Avhenever a point of architecture is 
in question seriously. And how entirely ignorant of its finesse are those 
who have all Art at their personal command — princes, patricians, leaders 
of the world of wealth and leisure, grace and luxury ! In short, when 
we grasp the fact how completely the professional community of 
architects is constituted, by even a very moderate training, a close 
■corporation, and its work a " mystery," so that an intelligent pupil of 
eighteen is the master, not only of the doctor or the lawyer, Ijut of an 
archbishop or a Minister of State, does not this question arise, as 
possibly an urgent one in these plain-speaking days — By whom is it that 
architecture is actually appreciated .^ In other words, what is the real 
social position of this matter of designing ? Who are they that read its 
language ? What of those who cannot ? What is public opinion 
entitled to say about it, and what not entitled to say ? 


It is at the same time a curious fact that the successful artist is very 
rarely a successful critic. Just as the combiuation of the scieutific 
temperament and the poetic temperament — as in the case of Goethe — is 
so seldom met Avith, even in a moderate degree, so also it seems to be a 
natural law of intellect that the sometimes small amount of imagination 
which qualifies a man to be a practical architect is quite enough to 
involve the absence of that perhaps not very great amount of the 
analytical faculty which is required by the critic. Thus it is that the 
two best known systems of criticism have in fact acquired their value — 
no proper value in either case. The one of these is judgment by 
precedent, the mode of the industrious copyist. The other is judgment 
by instinct, the way of the person of taste. The copyist satisfies him- 
self by referring to his books ; the j^erson of taste likes or dislikes, and 
knows not why. 

If, then, the authority of precedent is falling into disuse, is it the 
authority of mere liking and dishking that is to govern Architecture ? 
Let us hope not, but still let us look at the matter anxiously. It is the 
providers of the money who must approve or disapprove the design, and 
the way in which they come to then- conclusion is all important. It is 
the public satisfaction or dissatisfaction which must be the ultimate test 
of architectural success, and yet the public know absolutely nothing 
about the matter ! 

In Paris there are certahi large sections of the public Avho, although 
they may not be able to criticise architectural detail architecturally, 
have been so accustomed from time immemorial to take an interest in 
academical art of every kind, and to engage freely in the discussion of 
artistic merit and demerit in every form, that their opinions upon 
architectural desigu, although logically quite empirical, are practically 
perfectly sound. Their likes and dislikes are not scientifically arrived 
at, but they are the results of a species of personal experience which 
in some things is more reliable than even scientific argument. A 
French architect, therefore, who is perfectly sure that his work is good, 
may be equally sure that the public will pronounce it good. 

But it is by no means so in England or America ; even the most 
cultured connoisseurs cannot be depended upon, and the architect who 
is properly conscious of merit must look for its recognition to his 
professional brethren, with a very small commonwealth of allies who, if 
they cannot iead, can inteUigently follow. It is for this reason, perhaps, 
that our Anglo-Saxon architecture is often so carelessly designed, even 
the best of it. 

To educate a connnunity up to the standard of appreciating such a 
recondite matter as architectural design is a thing that cannot be done 
in a hurry ; but the time may come when persons of culture in England 
and America shall be at least able to judge of it as the French do. In 
the meantime what is the architect to do ? Perhaps the answer is that 

2 B 2 


he is to do his best and so leave it. Occasionally we have seen a case in 
which a practitioner, anxious for either profit or fame, has sacrificed his 
own better tastes to gain the approbation of the unintelligent ; but, in 
England at least, this is not the way a compromise of the artistic 
conscience is generally made by architects ; the more prevalent sin of 
that kind goes no farther than a too great readiness to fall in with 
the latest fashion. No doubt every man of business must be allowed to 
do the best he can for himself ; but if he can permit himself at the same 
time to do the best he can for the honour of his craft, it is not likely 
that he will lose by it in the end. One more word that may be added is, 
that no architect is worthy of the name of artist who is not personally 
solicitous about every detail of his work. 

Architectural Scepticism. — We are accustomed to say that these 
are the days of free inquiry, and we all profess to approve of liberty 
of opinion if expressed without offence. In such a subject as Archi- 
tecture the student may safely be encouraged, therefore, to think for 
himself a good deal. We certainly do not find too many instances in 
Avhich this leads the practical man into gra^'e error ; for the actual 
work of designing a building is far too difficult a task for the 
designer, and too serious a matter for the paymaster, to admit of self- 
sufficient incompetence readily obtaining an opportunity for attitudi- 
nising. On the contrary, the complaint is made every day, in spite of 
all our pains, that there is too much sameness in English buildings 
of every class, for a generation which exhibits so great an aptitude 
for the enjoyment of variety in other matters of taste. There is 
consequently no substantial danger at all in architectural free-thinking 
being cultivated by the young — and, for that matter, by their seniors. 
Inasmuch as at the present moment there are not even any agreed canons 
of criticism upon which English or American youth may exercise its 
gifts of unbelief, individuality, if not positive originality, is exception- 
ally favoured. How then do we stand as regards practical scepticism ? 
The answer may probably be that we do not seem to do ourselves credit 
in this respect. True, the typical Englishman or American is not a 
sceptic by nature, as the Frenchman is, and as the German is. His 
formulas of public opinion and private duty are cautious, common- 
sensible, and conservative ; he prefers something like certainty to any- 
thing like uncertainty. But observe in Architecture how the mercurial 
Frenchman adheres to rule, and denies himself the characteristic, satis- 
faction of remodelling constituted authority. Observe also how the 
explorations of the architectural mind in Germany stop far short of 
introducing first principles in practice. May we say that the critical 
instinct of the French designer is so well satisfied, and so justly, with 
his own modes, that there is no room for speculative misgivings ? Or 
that the philosophical faculty of the German is not so much occupied 
w ith abstract principles as to compromise the secondary problems of actual 


work ? Or perhaps that the intellectual speculations of the one and 
the intuitive perceptions of the other arrive at the same simple result — 
that the painstaking but liberally free development of the standard and 
therefore true Modern European is the legitimate work of all modern 
architects alike who would be practical men ? 

"What turn, then, ought architectural scepticism to take in America ? 
Probably the best answer to such a question for the present is the 
recommendation of a more careful inquiry on the part of practical 
designers into the " common sense " of eveiy feature they accept, and 
every detail they devise. It is not enough, for instance, patriotically to 
follow in the wake of even such a powerful artist as Richardson, and to 
think that his measure of originality is enough for this generation. Xur 
is it enough to seize upon any other attractive mannerism because of its 
novelty and apparent appropriateness to a new country. Far less is it 
allowable to accept a new formula of design merely because of its defiance 
of old formulas. The legitimate inheritance of all the ages must not be 
ignored or despised. To " stand in the ancient ways " — the motto of 
Street — is now becoming an obsolete superstition ; but to forget those 
ancient ways is not to any one's profit. This is an age of infinite 
knowledge-collecting ; and it is not easy to have too much of knowledge. 
But let us test and try it all, and hold fast to that which is good : this 
is the true scepticism of both Science and Art. 

The Future of Americax Architecture. — One of the most 
experienced, learned, and thoughtful of English statesmen, Mr. Gladstone, 
has pronounced the opinion that Europe may already see in Xorth 
America an immediate successor in the march of civilisation. Xow 
civilisation goes by rule, like everything else in nature, and heredity has 
its full influence in governing both substance and formula. Accordingly, 
as the great community which calls itself the United States of North 
America is still essentially the foremost of English colonies, it is only 
a natural consequence that its present civilisation is of the English type, 
as we know it to be. It follows in like manner that the future of the 
United States will be of the same order, subject only to the law of the 
gradual decay of extraneous influence. Architecture, therefore, as 
"history in stone," will within certain limits be found to follow in 
America for ages to come the English form of the European manner. 
But what are the limiting agencies ? Perhaps they are chiefly these :— 
the extensive use of timber-work, the unsophisticated character of the 
landscape and general environment, the national ingenuity, self-sufii- 
ciency, enterprise, and desire for invention, the haste of business, and 
the interference of other nationalities with the ancestral influence of the 
parent state. To appreciate these considerations we cannot do better 
than look at the work of Ptichardson. He was bred in Xew England, 
and professionally educated in Paris ; he travelled for further inspiration 
in old England, and he began work at home at the conclusion of the 


crucial episode of the great Civil War. He sought to become a typical 
American ; and the view which he took of the situation is very clearly 
shown in his work. He struck out a personal style of massive boldness, 
courageous ingenuity and enterprise, perfect self-confidence, and free 
adaptation of all he knew. He rejected relentlessly what the world of 
architects relied upon so implicitly, both the Classic of the French and 
the Gothic of the English. To make a long story short, the outcome of 
it was an ideal of virile muscularity of design which was novel alike to 
the New World and the Old, not " rough and ready," far less " rough 
and tum1)le," but rough and rude of purpose, to accord with a rising 
not a falling civilisation, a nationality not old and effete, weary and 
stumbling, but young and in a hurry, unceremoniously resolute, and 
looking forward with an earnest eye — always forward, never backward — 
puritanically despising meretriciousness, inflexibly demanding vigour. 
Whether he always kept his fancy under due control, never mind ; it 
was not likely he would ; and it was xevj likely indeed that his followers 
would be less scrupulous than himself. But does Richardson's manner 
supply what America wants ? There are many who \\-ill think it is at 
least a. good beginning. His scabbled and sometimes coarsely rustic 
facing, for instance, his roof crocketing, his sepulchral entrance porch, 
and a few other somewhat assertive experiments, will no doubt be 
gradually modified ; but the simple, manly graciousness of his more 
important, if less strildng, features, may not improbably retain its 
generous and genial influence for a long time to come. Even in such 
examples as the Ames Building (No. 292/^) and the house at Los 
Angeles (No. 292/) — selected quite at random — it cannot be denied that 
there is to be discerned the backbone of a novel national style altogether 
superior in vitality to the invertebrate commonplace of which in 
England, and indeed elsewhere, we see so much. — Ed.] 

Book X. TUEATRES. 375 



No mention has been made in the previous pages of this work of 
the Theatres of modern times, though their importance is such that 
no history of Architecture could be considered complete without some 
reference to them. If not so important as the Mediaeval Cathedrals, 
they at least come next to them in scale in modern times. No 
important capital city in Europe is without its Great Opera House ; 
and, in addition to this, all possess several Dramatic Theatres, and 
even every provincial town has its place for theatrical rejiresentations 
as certainly as its smaller predecessor would have had its parish church. 
Many of these edifices cost as much to erect as their ecclesiastical pro- 
totypes in the Middle Ages, and of those on which less was expended 
originally it may safely be asserted that their furniture, decoration 
and maintenance cost more than the older buildings, many of whose 
purposes these less creditable institutions now fulfil. 

Instead of mentioning the Theatres of each nation separately, it 
will be found more convenient to treat them as one group, as they 
have no nationality — the designs of those of Naples or St. Petersburgh 
being practically identical, while those of London or Paris would suit 
equally well for any capital in Europe ; and it would be tedions to 
interrapt the narrative of local peculiarities in order to rejjeat over 
and over again what may be said once for all. 

There is another circumstance which renders it expedient to treat 
of the Theatres apart from other buildings, which is, that they alone 
have escaped — in their internal arrangement, at least — from the influ- 
ence of the copying school. It is true that, when permanent Theatres 
first came to Ibe erected in modern Europe, Palladio did build one at 
Venice, ano. Serlio another at Vicenza, according to the prece]3ts of 
Vitruvius ; and, in the last days of his career, the former architect 
designed the celebrated Theatro Olympico at Yicenza, which still 
stands a monument of his classical taste, and boasts of being the oldest 
permanent theatre in Europe, at least of those built since the time of 


the Romans. It was, however, also the last of its race ; for, though 
Classicality or Medi^evalism may do very well for churches, managers 
of theatres are in earnest, and their audiences insist on both seeing 
and hearing what is going on, and will not be content with being 
told that it is correct to sit behind a pillar where notliing can be 
seen, or under a roof where every sound is lost. The consequence was 
that architects were forced to try if they could not iuvent something 
more suitable for modern purposes than the great .conch of an ancient 
theatre, and better and more convenient than the locale in which 
Mediaeval mysteries were wont to be performed. The result has 
been that modern Theatres, so far, at least, as concerns their internal 
arrangements, are the only important l)uildings in modern times 
designed wholly without reference to precedent, and regarding which 
an architect really must think what is best to be done and how he can 
best do it. It hence arises that in speaking of them we must re^'el't 
to our old principles of criticism, and explain their peculiarities as if 
they were the works of reasoning men and not the products of copying 

From these circumstances our Theatres would be by far the most 
satisfactory of our Architectural productions if it were not that, in 
almost all cases, economy is one of the first exigencies to be attended 
to. With very few exceptions Theatres are private commercial specu- 
lations got up for the purpose of maldng money ; and even when 
governments assist or interfere, economy of space, if not of money, 
has always to be attended to, one consequence of which is that no 
theatre in Europe is constructed internally of such durable materials 
as are requisite to Architectural effect. The boxes and fittings are 
generally of wood, often capable of being removed, and always with a 
temporary look about them, very destructive of grandeur. 

Notwithstanding these defects, great halls, sometimes measuring 
more than 100 ft. by 70 or 80, and 80 or 90 ft. in height, without 
any central support, decorated, with more or less elaboration, from 
floor to roof, must almost of necessity be objects of considerable 
magnificence ; and when to this we add that they are all honestly 
designed for the purposes to which they are applied, we may turn to 
them with a satisfaction we can scarcely feel in contemplating the 
greater number of the buildings we have just been descrihiug. 

The earliest theatres of Italy or Spain were the Cortiles of the 
former and the Corrales of the latter country, — courtyards, sur- 
rounded by balconies or arcades from which the spectators could see 
or hear what passed on a temporary stage erected against one side of 
them, on which the simply-constructed early dramas were performed, 
always in broad daylight. 

In France, where the climate did not so readily lend itself to out- 

Book X. THEATRES. 377 

door representations, the earliest theatres seem to have been the 
tennis or racket-courts, which were admirably adapted to the pur- 
pose. A stage erected at one end, and two or three galleries at 
the other, with a spacious " parterre " between, enabled a considerable 
audience to see and hear with great facility ; and, except that the 
receipts would be limited by the loss of the accommodation of the side 
boxes, this form of theatre has even now much to recommend it. 

In England the cockpit or bear-garden seems to have been the 
earliest model, and was by no meanS' an incapable one if properly 
worked out, combined as it might have been, with the galleries 
surrounding the courtyards of our hostelries, which was the other 
model at our disposal. 

Except the classical theatres mentioned above as erected by Palladio 
and Serlio, there does not a])pear to have been any really permanent 
building in Europe for the puipose of theatrical representations until 
after the expiration of the 16th century. During its course, however, 
plays had become so important an element in the literature of almost 
every country in Europe, and witnessing their representation so 
fashionaljle an amusement, that it was impossible it should long 
remain thus. We consequently find the theatre of the Hotel de 
Bourgoyne rising into great importance in Paris in 1621, and being 
rebuilt in 1045 with tiers of boxes, but arranged apparently on a 
sipiare plan. In 1639 Richelieu built the original theatre of the 
Palais Royal, which was long considered the type and model to be 
followed in the design of such structures. 

In Venice a theatre was erected in 1639, with two tiers of boxes 
arranged circularly round a pit slopnig backwards as at present, thus 
really inventing the present form of theatre ; and in 1675 Fontana 
first introduced the horseshoe form in a theatre called the Tordinoni 
which he erected in Rome. 

In this country the first permanent theatre with boxes seems to 
have been the Duke's Theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields', erected in 1662 : 
it certainly was the first in which scenery was introduced and the other 
usual appliances of scenic decoration. 

Fontana's invention may be said to have completed the modern 
theatre in all its essential parts, but it took another century before all 
the problems connected with the representation of a modern drama 
were complete. In 1754 Sufflot erected the theatre at Lyons, which 
was long regarded by French architects as the most perfect model 
of an auditory which they possessed ; and in 1777 Victor Louis built 
the great tricatre at Bordeaux, which was then, and is now externally, 
the very finest edifice of its class to be found in France, — it may 
almost be said, in Europe. About the same time (1774) Piermarini 
built the Scala at Milan, which is still perhaps the best lyric theatre 
in existence ; though we had nothing to compare with these edifices 


until Novosielski rebuilt the Opera House in the Haymarket, in 1790, 
very much as it was before it was burnt down in 18G7, and Smirke and 
Wyatt rebuilt Covent Garden and Drury Lane Theatres in 18(t8 and 
1812 respectiyely. 

The first really important theatre in Germany was the Opera 
House at Berlin, built by order of Frederick the Great in 17-11. In 
Russia the theatre is an importation of yery recent date ; but being 
patronised by the Imperial Family and fostered with subyentions 
from the state, the lyric theatres of St. Petersburgh and Moscow equal 
in extent and splendour those of any other of the capitals of Europe. 


The problems inyolyed in the construction of a modern theatre are 
infinitely more complex and difficult than those presented to the 
designers of the theatres of the ancients. The dramas of the Greeks 
and .Romans, or at least those which were represented in their great 
theatres, were of the simplest possible kind. The action took place 
on a pulpitum or raised platform in front of a fixed architectural 
screen. The dialogue was simple, rhythmical, and probably intoned, 
and the chorus sufficiently numerous to make their united yoices heard 
anywhere. The class of spectacle in modern times most like these 
great dramas is probably the Oratorio ; and the experience gained by 
representations of that kind at the Crystal Palace has proyed how easily 
a theatre could be constructed with at least a 300 feet radius (the 
greatest ever used by the Greeks), where 20,000 persons could be 
seated at their ease and still hear eyen the low notes of bass yoices 
with very enjoyable distinctness ;^ consequently, were our objects the 
same as those of the Greeks, the solution would be easy. 

The introduction, however, of painted movable scenes, which 
seem first to have been invented by Baldassare Peruzzi, and used by 
him, in 1508, in a piece called ' La Calandra,' Avhen it was played before 
Leo X., and the further development of this invention, which was 
so thoroughly in accordance with the spirit of the age, led to the 
necessity of a recessed stage \\ith a framing like that of a picture. 
Once arrived at this point, all the conch-like arrangements of the 
Classical period became inappropriate, for it was evident that only 
on the tennis-court plan could all see equally well into the room 
in which the action was taking place. As, however, a spoken 
dialogue can hardly be well heard at a greater distance than 75 or 
80 ft., nor the expression of a countenance well appreciated beyond 

* The Crystal Palace was not designed i but, notwithstanding this, ten or twelve 
with any reference lo such represen'a- thousand persons can hear even the solo 
tions, and its flat floor is sinjjularly un- parts very tolerably, and fifteen or twenty 
favourable for tlie transmission of sound; thousnnd can enjoy the choruses. 


that distance, it was evident that not more than from 600 to 1000 
persons could be accommodated in such a room, assuming its width to 
be 40 or 50 ft., which was about as much as could then be conveniently 
roofed over. 

In order to increase the accommodation, the galleries or boxes, which 
had at first been only established at the far end of the hall, were carried 
also along the sides ; and of these, two, three or even four tiers were 
introduced. The next improvement was rounding off the corners, until, 
bit by bit, and step by step, the modern auditory was invented. This 
may generally be taken as represented by a circle described in the 
front of the curtain with a diameter about double the opening of the 
stage. In lyric theatres, where music only is performed, and where, 
consequently, hearing is easier and seeing less important, the curve is 
elongated into an ellipse, with its major axis towards the stage, so that 
the number of side boxes and the depth of the pit may be considerably 
increased. In theatres intended only for the spoken drama, where, 
consequently, hearing is more difficult and distinct vision more im- 
portant, the contrary process may be pursued with advantage, and 
the front boxes brought nearer the stage than even the circular form 
would demand. 

The half of the circle farthest from the stage is generally allowed to 
remain unaltered, but the two quadrants next the curtain are opened 
out and bent back in a variety of curves ; but, though volumes have 
been written, and the best architectural talent of the world has been 
applied experimentally to the subject, the exact form in which this 
should be done is far from being settled. It is exactly, however, the 
same class of prol)lem as that involved in the determination of the exact 
curve for a ship's bow or stern, the midships section in both cases 
being gi^'en. Neither of these problems has yet been finally solved, and, 
from their nature probably never will be, as the circumstances are 
continually altering ; but they are nevertheless both very near the best 
practical solution possible, and nearer it than any other problem con- 
nected with Architecture in modern times. This might be expected 
from the fact before noticed, that the curve of the auditory of a theatre 
is ahnost the only real question that can be submitted to the 
intellectual investigation of an architect at the present day. Being 
so, it may be worth while to tiy and explain briefly the principal con- 
ditions on which it rests. 

If it were not that the science of acoustics is one of the least perfect 
branches of human knowledge, and its practical application certainly the 
least understood, it would be easy to explain the principles on which 
theatres should be aiTanged. But, in order to render what follows 
intelHgible, it is necessary to say a few words as to the motion of the 
sound-wave. The most popular illustration of the diffusion of sound 
horizontally is obtained by the analogy of a stone being dropped into 



Book X. 

a piece of still water, when circular waves radiate in every direction, 
till at last they die away altogether. But this involves two errors. 
First, to make the analogy at all represent the real circumstances of 

the case, the singer must be lying on his 
back, and sing or speak with his mouth 
upwards ; but this is never the case ; the 
voice is always thrown forward, and, 
practically, the form of the sound-wave is 
something very like the diagram, Wood- 
cut No. 293, the speaker being at A. In 
perfectly still air and where no interrup- 
tions occur, the sound-wave would always 
take this form. The second error is, the 
assumption that sound is a succession of 
293. waves, such as those produced by dropping 

a stone in water, whereas the reverse is 
the case. The sound-wave is single, such as is produced in water by 
one blow or one action ; and all sounds travel with a practically uniform 
velocity, so that each sound gets out of the way of the next that 
proceeds from the same source. Were it not for this, distinct articulation 
would be impossible. 

Knowing the form of the sound-wave, two questions arise which are 
Ijoth of the greatest possible importance to the theatrical architect. 

First, Are there any means by which its intensity can be increased, 
and its area can be extended ? 

Secondly, What are the circumstances which may interfere with its 
onward progress or its practical distinctness .'' 

In order to answer the first, let it be supposed that a speaker or 

singer is standing at s in a square room, 
A D a E. It is found practically that 
all the waves impinging against the 
wall between a and b, or under an 
angle of -15 degrees, are reflected, pro- 
ducing confusion, but no increase of 
inteusity. Between b and c, or up to 
57 degrees, the reflexion is so slight as 
liardly to be objectionable. Beyond 
that there is no reflexion. The wave 
gradually assumes the form x y, and, 
after travelling a little farther, becomes 
practically a straight line ; and if con- 
fined between two walls, it \nll travel 
infinitely farther than it would do if 
perfectly unconfined. 
The practical result of this description is, that, within the square in 


which the speaker is standing, no sensible increase of sound can be 
attained by any confinement, but great danger of confusion from 
reflexion. Beyond the square, the lateral limitation to dispersion be- 
comes more and more valuable as we proceed onwards, with no danger 
from the reflex wave, unless from a wall at the end, from which the 
wave coming back meets that going forward, and may produce confusion 
and indistinctness to a considerable extent. 

With regard to the second question, it is easy to answer, that, 
practically, the people sitting in the triangle sab are in great danger 
of hearing very indistinctly in consequence of reflexion. If there was 
a wall at F B, a person at m could hardly hear distinctly ; and even if G d 
Avere a wall, a person at n could only hear indistinctly in consequence of 
the reflex wave and the remaining slight reflexion from a b. If the 
sound were single, it might be only an echo ; but if sounds followed one 
another in rapid succession, a multitude of echoes would produce 
practical deafness, and at o and p hearing would be almost impossible 
under any circumstances, but much more difficult in the former than 
the latter position.^ 

If, for instance, the backs of the boxes of a theatre were lined with 
mirrors, as has been proposed, and the fronts made of some hard 
polished substance, it is more than probaljle that the words of a quickly- 
spoken dialogue, or .the notes of a quick piece of music, would be 
absolutely inaudible in even the smallest theatre ; w^hereas, if the backs 
of the boxes were entirely removed, and the fronts reduced as much 
as possible,^ every sound would be h6ard clearly and distinctly. 
The practical objection to this solution is, the difficulty of preventing 
external sounds from interrupting the audience, and the necessity of 
still air for distinct hearing. 

The practical answer to the first question is, that very little advantage 
is obtained by any confinement or guidance of the sound-wave. It is 
true that, if a room were 50 ft. wide and 500 long, those beyond the 
first 100 ft. would hear better in consequence of the side walls, and 
those at 500 ft. might hear tolerably what without the walls they would 
not hear at all ; but the 5000 people such a room would contain would 
hear infinitely better in a room 100 ft. wide by 250 long; and 10,000 
might hear as well in a curvilinear-formed room, adapted especially to 

' The only person I know of who has , dramatic literature. The theatre at Lisbon 
thoroughly investigated the motion of j was considered one of the best in Europe ; 
the sound-wave, and studied its effects, ; yet, after a short time, they found the 
is Mr. Scott Russell, to whose researches sound in certain parts was lost, when it was 
I am mainly indebted for the above infer- ! discovered that it was in consequence of 
mation. j certain passages at the backs of the boxes 

2 A curious illustration of this is quoted being stopped up ; and when they were 
by Mr. Bazley, in his evidence before a i reopened the power of hearing distinctly 
Committee of the House of Commons on returned ! 



Book X. 

the form of a sound-wave, without any confinement, hut also it must be 
without any reflexion. 

It is the form of the latter — which is involved in the second question 
— which is the great difficulty of the theatrical architect ; so that, after 
all, the answer to the inquiries is far more negative than positive. It 
does not result in the discovery of what should be done to increase the 
sound, so much as in a knowledge of what to avoid in order not to 
interfere with its smooth and uninterrupted progression. What an 
artist ought to think of when designing a theatre or concert-room is not 
how to increase the sound — that he may leave to itself — but how to 
prevent reflexion from the voice of the speaker or singer ; how he may 
shut out external sounds ; and, lastly, how he best can trap off the 
conversation or sound of one part of his audience so that it shall not 
disturb the rest — how, in fact, he can best produce a silent theatre. 

Without attempting to pursue the abstract question further, it may 
be asserted that the wonderful instinct of the Greeks, which enabled 

them always to do the very 
best thing possible in all that 
concerns Art, caused them to hit 
on the very best form, in plan, 
for the transmission of the 
greatest quantity of sound, with 
the greatest clearness, to the 
greatest possible number. Their 
mechanical appliances did not 
admit of their adopting a roof ; but if we were now to build a place — 
irrespective of architectural beauty— in which 20,000 were to hear 
distinctly, we should adopt the plan of a Greek theatre,^ with probably 
a section similar to that shown in Woodcut No. 295. 

The great difficulty in applying a roof is, that, if any sound is 
reflected back from it at an angle of 45 degrees, it produces indistinct- 
ness of hearing on the part of the audience ; and it must therefore be 
so constructed that this shall not be the case.^ 

' The flat floor of tlie Crystal Palace is 
neai-ly fatal to its use for great numbers, 
as will easily be understood from the 
annexed diagram (Woodcut No. 296). In 
the first place, the portion of the sound- 

wave that is distributed over the floor is 
only a very small section of the whole — 
not 10 degrees in 180. This would not 
be a disadvantage if the floor were 
polislied glass or still water; but when it 
is rough with human beings a great por- 
tion is absorbed and lost, and the rest 
oannot travel with focility. The conse- 
quence is ti)at a person at A, 200 ft. from 
the orchestra, hears very much less per- 
fectly than one at b, 300 ft. distant. 

" The great roof that has recently been 
erected over the Handel orchestra at 
Sydenham is supposed to have increased 


So far as mere hearing is concerned, it is only the greatest possible 
space within the limits of the sound- wa^'e, in ^yhich perfectly still air 
and freedom from external sounds can be obtained ; but with seeing the 
case is diiferent. The Greeks tried to get over this difficulty by the 
introduction of masks so broadly moulded as to admit of the markings 
being seen at a great distance ; and they elevated their actors on high- 
soled shoes, and used every conceivable de^•ice to make them look large ; 
with what degree of success we can hardly judge. We escape this 
difficulty, to a considerable extent, by the introduction of opera-glasses 
and optical contri^•ances ; but with all our modern science, this will 
probably always limit the size of the auditory of modern theatres to 
about 100 ft. from the curtain to the front of the opposite boxes. The 
consequence is, that even a lyric theatre can hardly be constructed to 
accommodate more than 3000 or 3.500 persons. A dramatic theatre is 
limited to about 2000 or 2500, though a concert-room might easily be 
made to contain 5000 to 10,000, and a festival-hall 15,000 to 20,000 

Besides these abstract questions, which arise from the natural limits 
to our powers of hearing or seeing distinctly, there is still another 
inherent on the necessity of our seeing into a room or enclosed stage in 
which the greater part of the action takes place. This does not affect 
either the pit or the front boxes, but it is all in all to the side boxes, 
which are, in fact, the great crux of the theatrical architect. These are 
of necessity jjlaced so obliquely that only the persons in the front row 
can see at all, if the boxes are closed at the sides. If open, they see 
obliquely ; and, what is worse, if high up, look almost perpendicularly 
doAvn on the stage, which is perhaps the most unpleasant position in 
which a spectator can well be placed. 

This last inconvenience could be almost entirely obviated by the 
arrangement suggested in Woodcut No. 297, keeping the centre boxes 
perpendicular one over the other, which is indispensable for seeing ; and 
if not the best for sound, that defect may be remedied by using soft 
stuffs, which will absorb and so neutralise the evil effects of what ought 
to be transmitted. Then by throwing back each tier of side boxes till 
the last is a semicircle, the whole audience would sit more directly facing 
the stage, would look at it at a better angle, and the volume of sound be 

largely tlie volume of sound. Its prac- 
tical working, however, is this : it had 
absolutely no efltect whatever on the solo 

single notes mellowed. It had a similar 
effect on the chorus voices at the back, 
reflecting them forward at impoiceptible 

voices or the instruments in front. It | intervals, and so bringing the whole 
softens immensely, and increases the j chorus more together, and delivering it 
power of the organ placed near the roof at to the audience as one grand voice, far 
the back by reflecting and repeating its more perfectly blended together than was 
notes, but at so immeasurably short an the case before the roof was erected, 
interval that thev reach the audience as 



Book X. 


considerably increased throughout the whole house by its freer expansion 
immediately on leaving the stage. It would besides be an immense 
improvement in the appearance of the house, relieving the dull uni- 
formity of tiers of boxes piled 
one over the other in unvarying 
monotony, and would render thu 
construction also much easier 
by dispensing' with the iron 
supports of the boxes altogether. 
Another advantageous change 
will soon also be probably ac- 
complished. A few years ago 
two or three rows of orchestra 
stalls were all that were tolerated 
even in our lyric theatres, and 
they were unknown in the play- 
houses ; by degrees they are 
encroaching on the pit of these, 
and in our last Opera House the 
pit has become a nearly evanescent 
quantity. It is to be hoped it will soon disappear altogether, for it 
cannot be denied that the " parterre " is the best place for seeing and for 
hearing, the most easy of access, and the best ventilated. If it were so 
arranged as to form one with the lower tier of boxes, both being 
accessible through the great dress saloon, the improvement to the 
appearance of the house would be considerable, and the profits of the 
manager also probably increased. 

This is not the place, however, to insist on these and other obvious 
ameliorations. The matter is in the hands of men of intelligence, and 
who have a shrewd appreciation of what is best, while there is no real 
obstacle in the way of progress. The Classical examples, as has just 
been explained, are not suitable for models ; and most fortunately 
there are no Gothic remains to force managers to adopt the barbarisms 
of the Middle Ages. The only misfortune is, that, in this country at 
least, economy both of space and money must always be the ruling 
motive in every design, as all theatres are merely private speculations. 
On the Continent, where the Government generally subsidises and 
controls, this should not be so ; and if the new Opera House recently 
erected at Paris is not a model of all that is excellent in acoustics and 
beautiful in form, it will be that France does not possess an architect 
equal to the task. The situation is free and open, the expenditure 
unlimited, and all that is required is that between 2000 and 3000 
persons should be so placed as to sit luxuriously and hear clearly. 
With the experience already gained, and the unlimited means 
now available, there is no problem in modern theatre-building which 



should not be advanced, almost set at rest, by that o-reat uiidei-- 

Although the interiors of theatres in modern Europe have, for 
the reasons just stated, been treated according to the principles of 
common sense, their exteriors have unfortunately been handed over to 
the " dealers in Orders " in the same manner as other civil buildings ; 
and owing to their nature the application of these features has been 
generally less successful than elsewhere. The fact is, a theatre is 
a very multifarious building, and, in some parts at least, neither 
very dignified nor appropriated to dignified uses. It consequently 
is extremely difficult to make it look like one grand hall, which is 
the aim of most architects, and still more so to make it look like 
a Eonian temple, with which it has absolutely no affinity. These' 
difficulties, however, are entirely of the architect's own creation. 
The dimensions of a theatre are almost always magnificent, not 
only as regards length and width, but also in height, and they 
generally stand free and unencumbered ; so that an architect is 
certainly to blame, if, with these materials, he cannot make an 
imposing design. 

The difficulty which has spoiled most of the external designs of 
theatres is that they are composed of two very 
distinct parts, as will easily be understood from 
the annexed diagram. Woodcut No. 298. The one 
devoted to the audience, consisting of the auditory, 
the saloons, staircases, and passages — all these are 
on a sufficient scale and sufficiently ornamental 
to be treated in a dignified manner ; but the other 
half, devoted to the stage, is surrounded by dress- 
ing-rooms, workshops, store-rooms, and offices of 
all sorts. These seldom require to be more than 
10 or 12 ft. in height, while the saloon may be 30 
or 40. Where architects have generally failed has 
been in the attempt to make the stage part look 
as dignified as the audience half, or in despair have 
toned down the latter to the level of the more utilitarian division. 

If the parts were accentuated as shown in the diagram, there is 
no reason why they should not be treated differently ; but every 
reason, indeed, why this should be done : and if the whole were 
bound together by a bold uniform cornicione, and the angles all 
treated similarly, which could easily be done, there is no reason why 
the one part should not be ten storeys liigh, and the other only two 
or three ; and if the vertical piers were sufficiently prominent and 
strong, the one may be made architecturally as beautiful and as 
dignified as the other, 

VOL. II. 2 C 


In lyric theatres the central shaded division would belong to the 
audience part, as that is always more important in them than in 
dramatic theatres ; in the latter it would belong to the stage, which 
requires a greater development ; and it of course, in either of these 
cases, ought to be treated according as that division is designed tO' 
which it belongs. 

This, unfortunately, is not the way the question has hitherto been 
looked at : and the consequence is, as we shall presently see, that no 
theatre in Europe can be considered as a perfectly successful design 
externally, though many, from then' dimensions and the richness of 
their decorations, are very grand and imposing edifices. 

It is only to be hoped that some architect will one day apply to 
the exterior of a theatre the same principles of common sense which 
guide him in designing the interior, and we may then see a building 
worthy of its age and of the art of Architecture. 

Lyeic Theatees. 

The theatrical buildings of Modern Europe may be classified under 
four distinct heads : — 

1. Lecture Theatres. 

2. Dramatic ditto. 

3. Lyric ditto. 

4. Music-Hails or Concert-Rooms. 

The first and last are governed by precisely the same principles, for 
whatever is good to speak in is also appropriate for singing, only that 
the greatly increased space-penetrating power of the modulated human 
voice enables the latter to be constructed on an immensely extended 
scale as compared with the former. Strange to say, although in our 
lecture-rooms we have generally adopted the principles of a Greek 
theatre, no large concert-room or music-hall except the Albert Hall 
has yet been constructed on the same plan. 

The lyric differ from the dramatic theatres only in this : that in 
the former, seeing being less important and hearing more easy, 
their auditory may be increased in extent ; and this may be done 
by a development of the side boxes in such a manner as would be 
inadmissible in a building where it is so especially necessary that 
everything should be seen that passes on the stage. 

Were it hot that the ballet is an almost invariable accompaniment 
to the opera, the stage in a lyiic theatre might also be relatively very 
much diminished as compared with a dramatic : but as these spectacles 
require quite as much space for their display as any dramatic repre- 
sentation, this is not usually found to be the case. 

Book X. 



The dimensions of the principal lyric theatres in Europe are 
exhibited in the followino- table : — 


La Scala, Milan 
San Carlo, Naples . . 
Carlo Felice, Genoa 
New Opera House, Paris 
Opera House, London (old) 
Turin Opera House . . 
Coveiit Garden, London. 
St. Petersburorh Opera . 
Academie de Musique, Paris 

Parma Opera 

Fenice, Venice 

Munich Theatre 
Madrid Theatre . . . 
Alexandra, Petersburgh' 
Darmstadt Opera 


Vienna (old) 


Depth from 





to back of 

from back 





to back. 









I 100 























55 i 

1 89 





i 87 























1 79 




1 79 





















20 X 80 

40 X 50 


22 X 66 

25 X 84 
33 X 85 
38 X 38 

38 X 40 
28 X 56 
41 X 80 

From the above table it will be perceived that there are at least 
six lyric theatres in Italy of the first class, and nearly of the same 
dimensions. The Scala at Milan is in some respects the largest of 
these, and is generally admitted to be the best arranged both for 
hearing and for seeing, so far as the last is thought indispensable 
for an opera-house. 

As far back as 1719 Milan possessed what was then the largest 
theatre in Europe, erected from the design of Barbieri ; but this was 
entirely destroyed by fire in 1776, when the present theatre was com- 
menced from the designs of the celebrated Piermarini, and completed 
in two years. 

Its length is 320 ft, ; its width 180 ; and it covers consequently 
about 40,000 square feet, or something less than the ordinary dimen- 
sions of a Mediaeval cathedral, though its cubic contents are probably 
more than the average of these buildings. The fa9ade towards the 

* The principal part of the information 
in this table is taken from the plates 
in Clement Constant's 'Parnllele des 
Theatres Modernes,' one of the very best 
and most useful works on the subject; 
but the reader must be warned that there 
are several sources of error which it is 
almost impossible to guard against. First, 
the general incorrectness of all plans ; 

secondly, the carelessnees with which 
scales are too often applied, especially in 
French works ; and lastly, that theatres 
are continually changing, either from 
being burnt down, or from improvements ; 
for, as they are works of true Art, no one 
ever hesitates to improve them to any 
extent that may be required. 

2 C 2 



Book X. 

Place is more pleasing than most of the designs for theatrical fa9acles. 
though of no great architectural pretensions, consisting of the usual 
elements : a rusticated basement, including 
an entresole ; a principal storey, with a 
Corinthian Order ; and an attic. As there 
is only one range of windows under the 
Order, and the parts are well proportioned 
to one another, all this is unobjectionable ; 
and if the Order must be used, there was not 
much else to be done. But the architect's 
chance was on the flank. Here he built an im- 
mense wall 800 ft. long, 90 ft. high, and with 
nothing particular to control his arrange- 
ments except this — that in parts it is seven 
and eight storeys in height, and all these of 
nearly equal dignity, or rather equal want of 
it. To carry the Order of the bel etage all 
round was consequently out of the question ; 
and, being checked in this, he seems to have 
given up the attempt in despair, and left the 
sides of his building looking very like a Man- 
chester cotton-mill. Had he only grou^jed 
his openings a little, strengthened the piers 
between them, and added a cornice at the 
top, with a moderate amount of dressings to 
the windows, he would have produced the most original and striking 
fa9ade in the city ; but this would have required an amount of thought 
which was not then exacted from any architect, so he left it as it is — 
imposing from its mass, but wholly devoid of architectural merit. 

Interrally, the auditory is surrounded by seven tiers of boxes, 

similar in extent and 
height, and very nearly 
so in design. There is 
no " balcon," as is usual 
in French theatres, and 
no galleries as in ours. 
There is no doubt that 
this extreme simplicity 
of arrangement does 
give a very consider- 
able degree of grandeur 
to the internal appearance of the building, but it challenges also a cer- 
tain monumental class of treatment in which theatres are generally 
very deficient ; and when this simplicity is carried to the extent it is in 
Italy, it is not free from the reproach of monotony. Still, when lighted 

299. Plan of La Scala, Milan. 
Scale lOU feet to 1 inch. 

30U. Facade of La Scala, ililan. Scale uu feit i< 

Book X. 



and well filled with n brilliant audience — as is generally the case — the 
effect of the auditory of the Scala is unsurpassed by any other tlicatre 
of Modern Europe : and its acoustic properties are also good ; the 
greatest objection being that the boxes in the upper tiers near the 
stage are more than usually inconvenient for either seeing or hearing. 

As will be observed from the plan, a small salon or cabinet is 
attached to the greater number of the boxes — not immediately, but 
across the passage. In one respect this is objectionable, inasmuch as, 
if adjoining, the anteroom is valuable in preventing the interference of 
external sounds ; on the other hand, as situated here, each salon has 
access to external light and air, which in a theatre sometimes used in 
daylight, and in the Italian climate, is an immense advantage. The 

-ul .-(., u,,i, ,i| til- Aii.litMiy of Lii Srala, .xalu 00 feet to 1 inch. 

existence of these seven tiers of small cabinets was one of the causes 
why the architect despaired of rendering the sides of his building 
architectural, and refrained from attempting to harmonise them with 
the principal fagade containing the great saloon and other state apart- 
ments of the building. 

Next in importance to the Scala is the San Carlo Theatre at 
Naples, built in 17:^7, and reconstructed very nearly on the same plan 
after the fire in 1816. Externally, its fagade is by no means without 
originality or merit. But the height of the basement, 40 ft., is too 
great for that of the upper storey, which reaches only 20 ; and the 
whole height of 60 ft. is disproportioned to the other dimensions of 
•the building. Internally, too, the size and height of the boxes are 
very much greater than in the Scala. There are only 6 tiei-s instead 
of 7 in height, and 28 in plan instead of 38 in each tier. This 
increase in their dimensions is not sufficient to give them a character 
of grandeur, but on the contrary, only tends to make the whole theatre 


look very much smaller, besides diminishing the accommodation to a 
very considerable extent. 

The theatre of Carlo Felice at Genoa, and that at Parma, differ 
very little from these except sUghtly in dimensions, only that they 
possess saloons of large dimensions and richly ornamented ; and that 
of Turin possesses the rudiments of a gallery above the boxes. 

The two great theatres of St. Petersburgh and that of Moscow are 
on the same scale, and arranged internally very much in the same 
manner, as these great Italian examples ; except that in Italy there is 
a certain air of completeness and of fitness, as if the people and the 
theatre belonged to one another, which is somehow wanting in the 
Eussian examples, and gives an exotic look to the whole. Externally, 
however, the Eussian theatres are very grand masses : they stand 
perfectly free, have great porticoes of pillars at one end, not very 
congruous perhaps, but very large, and the whole has a dignified and 
imposing look ; though, like most of the buildings in that country, 
showing very little thought, and a design that will not bear dissection. 

Our own Opera House, Haymarket, before the fire, was modelled 
on the Scala at Milan, which it resembled in most respects internally, 
except in the introduction of a spacious upper gallery, which to a 
certain extent destroys the grand simplicity of the design of its 
prototype ; and considering the difficulties of the case, Nash probably 
showed more ability in fusing together the various elements he had 
to deal with on the exterior, than in any other design he carried out. 
It is not very grand, but, as more than half of the external elevations 
consist of shops and dwelling-houses, it was not easy to make much 
out of such heterogeneous materials. 

The Opera House at Paris, or Academic de Musiijue, as it is 
usually called, is constructed on totally different principles from 
those just described. It is, in the first place, very much smaller, 
containing only four tiers of boxes, and these of less extent. It has 
besides capacious galleries. The great distinction, however, is tlie 
extent to which decoration is carried, and the immense development 
of the accessory apartments. It may be a question whether the four 
groups of pillars which are introduced to give apparent support to 
the dome are legitimate modes of decoration, or whether the simple 
outline employed by the Italians is not better. Wherever they may 
be placed, they must obstruct the view of a certain number of |3ersons. 
But ought a great national theatre to be constructed on the simple 
principle of accommodating the greatest number of persons ? The 
auditory is generally as pleasing and often as interesting a part of 
the entertainment as what passes on the stage ; and a certain amount 
of decoration, even at some sacrifice of space, is surely a legitimate 
expenditure there. A more pertinent question is, whether that effect 
is best attained by introducing Corinthian columns as in the Paris 

Book X. 



Opera House, or whether the same richness of effect might have been 
obtained without breaking- the 
simple outline of the curve 
which is so pleasing in Iialian 
theatres ? The French alone 
seem to be of opinion that the 
introduction of pillars in this 
position is legitimate ; and at 
Bordeaux, Marseilles, and other 
places they adhere to them, 
though other nations have 
abandoned the idea of any- 
thing so Classical in their 
theatres. X o t w i t h s t a n d i n g 
this, the house is much ad- 
mired by those who frequent 
it for its acoustic properties, 
and also for the facility with 
which the stage can be seen ; 
the latter (juality is principally 
owing to the boxes being only 
partially instead of wholly 
closed, as is generally the case 
in Italian theatres and with 
us — though why we should adopt so exclusive a principle is by no 

Plan of Academie de Musique, Paris. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Section of Academie de Musiqiie, Paris. Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. 



Book X. 

means clear, as it not only circumscribes the power of seeing Ijut of 
being seen — the partial opening adding also immensely to the brilliant 
appearance of the house. 

The Paris Opera House was commenced, in 1820, under the direction 
of M. Debret, to replace an older house pulled down in consequence of 
the murder of the Due de Berry in its vestibule in that year ; and, as 
hinted al)ove, is now about to give way to what is intended to be the 
most magnificent theatre in Europe. 

4Pl* ••fc- •W. .*♦• •*»• •*¥- '^' '*• 
Htl^ »IK UK •!#< l«t* H^ 


Plan of the New Opera House, Paris. 

In its present unfinished state it is of course quite impossible to 
speak with anything like confidence of the interior of the new Opera 
House now in course of erection ; but, as will be seen from the table 
on page 387 and the plan, Woodcut 304, its auditory is to be of the 

Book X. 



usual dimeusions of a first-class Opera House ; but the saloou accom- 
modation, as will be seeu by the plan, is enormous, measuring prac- 
tically 180" feet by 160, or 20,000 square feet. It is, in fact, meant to be 
a Palace of J.Iusic where fetes and balls of all sorts can be held, rather 
than a simple lyric theatre. Externally, the building is 490 feet by 328 
across the transepts ; and as it will cost at least a million sterling, it 
may be said to be a larger and more important building than our St. 
Paul's, and is so like it in general form, barring the dome, that we 
might expect it to be nearly as dignified in appearance. It cannot 
however, be considered a success in any respect. It is rich ; the 
ornament is appropriate, and always especially so to the parts to 
which it is applied — more so than perhaps in any other building of 
the same pretensions in Europe : but with all this, there is a want 

J05. View of New Opera, House, Paris. From tlie Model prepared by tiie Architect. 

of dignity and accentuation which detracts from its apparent dimen- 
sions, and leaves a most unpleasing impression on the mind of the 
spectator. Without more drawings and dimensions than are yet 
available, it is difficult to point out where the error exactly lies, 
hnt certainly what ought to have been one of the most perfect and 
loeautiful buildings in Europe fails to produce the effect the world ^\•as 
•entitled to expect from the talent and money spent in its production. 

At Munich there is a very large and handsome Opera House, with 
five tiers of boxes, which are an-anged on a perfectly circular plan, 
anore apparently with reference to architectural effect than to the 
more important considerations that ought to guide an architect in 
designing a theatre. Externally, it has the usual stereotyped plan 
adopted in Russia and fre(iuently in France, of a great portico of pillars 



Book X. 

covering two storeys of windows, with a block of plain masonry on either 
hand ; the whole being unobjectionable, but useless and incongruous. 

The Berlin Opera House was originally built by Frederick the 
Great, but has been entirely remodelled internally, and is now said 
to be one of the most comfortable houses in Europe for seeing and 
hearing in. It is very small, however ; for, though it has a dispropor- 
tionately large saloon, it does not altogether cover 2(>,()O0 ft., or half 
the dimensions of the Scala, and about one-fifth of 
that of the proposed new house in Paris. 

The Old Opera House at Vienna, though small, 
possesses a peculiarity of plan worthy of remark. 
The auditory widens towards the stage, instead of 
contracting, as is usually the case. It is not quite 
clear that it could be carried out on a nmch larger 
scale ; but in this instance it affords the occupants 
of the side boxes a far better opporDunity of seeing 
than in mOst theatres. It certainly seems to be an 
improvement, imless it is considered that the two, 
or, at the utmost, the three persons occupying the 
front seats are those only who are practically to be 
taken into accouht in the arrangement of a lyric 
theatre. The result in this instance is said to be perfect, but on so 
small a scale it would perhaps be difficult to fail.^ 

306. Old Opera House, 

Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Dramatic Theatres. 




Histoiique, Paris 
Drury Lane, London 




Berlin (Schinkel) . . 



Italiens, Paris . . 
Haynmrket, Loud >n 
Lyceum, ditto . . 

Adelphi, ditto . . 

Depth from 

. Width 



to back of 










































































25x 18 


45 X Go 


45 X 90 

' I have been unable to procure any 
such trustworthy plans or descriptions of 
the New Opera House, at Vienna, as 
would enable me to write a description of 

it. It seems a first-class house in so far 
as size and decoration are concerned, and 
its arraiif^ements are well spoken of. 

Book X. 



The theatre at Bordeaux is certainly the most magnificent of its 
class in Europe, whether we consider its internal or external arrange- 
ments, though it is not so easy to decide 
whether or not these are always the 
most judicious or in the best taste. Its 
erection was commenced in the year 
1773, from the designs of Victor Louis, 
on the site of a citadel that had long 
commanded the city, and the removal 
of which was then determined upon. 
Owing, however, to difficulties and delays 
that occurred during the progress of the 
works, which nearly drove the unfortu- 
nate architect mad, the building was 
only completed in 1780. Its dimen- 
sions are very considerable, being 280 ft. 
long by 151 in width, and consequently 
covering nearly -12,000 ft., or more 
ground than the Scala at Milan ; but of 
this great area a much smaller portion is 
occupied by the auditory and stage than 
is usual either in lyric or dramatic 

Except the Madeleine and the Bourse at Paris, there is perhaps no 
other building in France of the same size that carries out so completely 
the endeavour to look like a temple of the Romans as this one. In 
front there is a portico of twelve Corinthian pillars standing free ; and 
on the flanks and rear the same Order is carried round in the form of 
pilasters attached to piers, but alloAA'ing of corridors of communication 
all round the building externallv. The Order is 42 ft. in height, and 

Plan of the Theatre at Bordeaux. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Principal Facade of Ihe Theatre at Bordeaux. Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. 



Book X. 

is surmounted by an attic which rather detracts from its dignity, 
especially as it is again surmounted by the enormous and crushing 
roof indispensable in a theatre. Perhaps it would have been better if 
the Order had been placed on a boldly-rusticated basement and the 
attic omitted ; but every way it was an error to introduce the Order at 
all. It never could express the construction or the internal arrange- 
ments of the building ; and, by preventing the introduction of more 
than three storeys in height in any part, it introduces a degree of 
falsehood, accompanied by inconvenience, which more than counter- 
balances the pleasure derived from its magnificence. 

Internally, an Order has been introduced with almost equal promi- 
nence into the auditory, and with the same bad effect. It gives no 

Sectiuu <jl tlio Audituri' ol the Theatre at Borde.iux. Scale 50 feet to 1 inch. 

doubt a Classical air to the whole interior, but the second and third 
tiers of boxes become balconies fixed to the pillars at a third and 
two-thirds of their height Avithout any bracket or apparent support. 
The eye of the engineer is offended that so much useful sight should 
be obstructed, and the artist that the construction should not be 
accentuated and visible. Still, of its class, it is one of the grandest 
to be found anywhere ; and if we must be Classical and modern at the 
same time, it will not be easy to find a more successful compromise 
than the Grand Theatre at Bordeaux. 

That at Lyons can by no means compete with the Bordeaux Theatre 
either in dimensions or in magnificence. Still it is a very fine building, 
and is interesting as being the first in which the present arrange- 
ment of the boxes was carried to perfection. It was commenced 

Book X. 



310. Theatre at Lyons, as 
originally constructed. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

in 1754, from the design of the celebrated Sufflot, the architect of the 
Pantheon at Paris, and was considered so successful, both for hearing 
and seeing and being seen, that it became the type of all future theatres 
in France ; and, with very slight alterations, the form then introduced 
continues to be followed in almost every new 
erection of this class. This theatre fell into 
decay in the beginning of this century, and 
was reconstructed as it now stands between the 
years 182Gand 18?)1. The plan (Woodcut No. 
;310) shows the building as originally con- 
structed by Sufflot, and after all the experience 
we have had, it does not really seem that we 
have ad\'anced much beyond the point where 
he left it. The whole is simply and economic- 
ally arranged, all the parts well proportioned to 
one another and to the uses to which they are 
applied. The most remarkable peculiarity is, 
that it has a storey or saloon accessible to the 
public below the floor of the pit (as shown on 
the right-hand side of the plan), which certainly 
seems a convenience that would compensate the 

public for mounting some 15 ft. higher than they would have to do if it 
were omitted. 

Perhaps the theatre which deviates most from the stereotyped 
arrangement is the Theatre Historique, erected in Paris in 1H4G. In 
this instance the auditory is neither an ellipse with its longer axis 
coincident with that of the stage, as usual in IjTic theatres, nor a circle, 
as is generally the case in those devoted to the spoken drama, but an 
ellipse with its major axis at 
right angles to that of the stage. 
One immense advantage gained 
by this is, that all the audience 
sit facing the proscenium, and 
not sideways, as is usual, and 
consequently see the performance 
with far more ease and comfort 
to themselves, though, it must be 
confessed, somewhat at the ex- 
pense of the architectural effect 
of the auditory itself. The one 
question is. Can an eijual number 

be accommodated by this arrangement as by the other ? So far as 
experience has yet gone, it seems that they can ; and, consequently, a 
tendency towards this form has been shown in some of the recent 
constructions both in France and in this country. In the Theatre 

311. Theatre Historique, Paris. Scale lou !t. to 1 inch. 



Book X. 

Historique the principal object aimed at was to obtain immense galleries 
to accommodate the class of persons who lived in the neighbonrhood 
of the Boulevard du Temple, in which it was situated. But if the pit 
were converted into first-class places — as hinted above might be the 
case — such an arrangement would seem singularly applicable to 
accommodate all classes appropriately. 

Besides these public theatres, France possesses what no other nation 
has on anything like the same scale — a private theatre in the Palace of 

Versailles, which, though exceptional, is 
perhaps on that very account the more 
worthy of study. The great difference 
between it and those we have been con- 
sidering is, that it is no longer a question 
how to accommodate the greatest possible 
number : state and convenience have more 
to be considered than profit or loss. The 
consequence is, the pit is very circum- 
scribed ; but in the centre, instead of a 
royal box, is a grand platform, on which 
the king and all his courtiers could sit 
and be admired, while the boxes are so 
arranged as to complete the picture, look- 
ing more towards the real king than 
towards him who only "■ struts his hour 
upon the stage." 
This theatre was not an original part of the palace, as constructed 

312. Theatre at Versailles. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch 

Soctiou of Thcatie at Vtrt-ailUs. Sl^Ic 00 feel to 1 inch. 

Book X. 



by Mansard, but was constructed from the design of Gabriel, in 1769, 
and restored in the reign of Louis Philippe in the manner represented 
in the Woodcut No. 313. Taken for what it is, it must certainly be 
considered as very successful ; but still, where money was no object, 
and the number of pei*sons to be accommodated not necessarily taken 
into consideration, something less like a public theatre might have 
been thought of — something that would have looked more like the hall 
of a great palace, and less like what is seen in the neighbourhood of 
the Boulevard St. Martin.^ 

Since the destruction of Covent Garden we have only one first-class 
dramatic theatre in Eu gland — that of Drury Lane. Its dimensions 
are 135 ft. in width, and 240 in length, 
covering, consequently, some 32,000 ft., 
which, though not so large as Bordeaux and 
some others, are still noble dimensions. 
The auditory is arranged on the circular 
plan, and, as there are very few closed 
boxes, the audience can see with tolerable 
facility what passes on the stage. The 
saloons and staircases are arranged with 
more dignity and on a larger scale than is 
likely to be again adopted in an English 
theatre, the class of people who frequent 
this part not being such as again to induce 
much outlay for their accommodation. 
This house holds conveniently some 3000 
persons, which is about as large an audience 
as can well be present at any kind of 
dramatic representation in a modern theatre ; 
and even then it can only be the grander 

class of tragedies or the stateliest comedies that are suitable to so large 
a building. All the lighter and more playful pieces are far better 
appreciated in smaller houses ; and as these have become the most 
fashionable, it is not likely we shall again see houses built of these 
dimensions in tliis country. 

Many of the smaller theatres in London, as well as in the provhices, 
show not only great sldll in their arrangements, but also great taste in 
their decoration ; but they are all so economically built as hardly to 
come within the class of architectural objects ; and even if it were 
otherwise, the fact of their beuig all either built or having assumed 
their present form by the hands of living architects would prevent any 
more detailed criticism on their merits finding a place here. 

314. Plan of Drury Lane Theatre. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

» Tl;is 'I'licatre has now become, with very sliglit alteration, the senate-house of 
the French nation. 



Book X. 

The Germans have written a great deal abont the best form of 
theatres, but, after a very long and angry polemic, they do not seem to 

have arrived at any conclusions 
differing very materially from 
those which the practical sense of 
other nations had an'ived at before 
they brought their learning to 
bear on the subject. The one 
point which they seem to consider 
as a discovery is, that truth re- 
quires that the form of a theatre 
externally shall express the curve 
of the boxes internally. The 
consequence is, that Semper has 
adopted this form at Dresden, 
copying it from Moller, who had 
introduced it at Mayence in 1829 ; 
and it has been adopted elsewhere, though with some modifications. In 
this instance, however, the truth turns out to be falsehood, or, at least, 
pedantry, to a considerable extent. A Classical theatre which consisted 
only of one great conch of concentric gradini, with all its means of 

315. Theatre at Mayence. Scale 100 ft. to 1 in. 


Section of Th 

lie yU Url to 1 llicll 

communication within the circle, could, in fact, be only so represented 
with truth on the exterior. But a modern theatre is a very different 
affair. The construction almost requires two staircases at tlie back 
of the boxes in the angles of the quadrants ; there must be saloons and 
refreshment-rooms behind the boxes, offices and apartments on the 
sides. In fact, a rectangular plan fits far more easily to so complicated 
a congeries of parts ; and to sacrifice all this convenience for the sake of 


expressing externally the form of only one part, is not architectural 
truth. Even supposing it were so in a limited sense, and that con- 
venience is to be sacrificed to truth, it is necessary to carry the prin- 
ciple much further, because three storeys, externally each 25 or 30 ft. 
high, do not express the three or four tiers of boxes, ranged only 10 ft. 
one abo^■e the other, with pit, gallery, and all the other parts of a 
modern auditory. This, however, is what is supposed to represent 
truth in the theatre at Mayence, which is considered the typical 
example of this class in Germany. As before mentioned, it was erected 
from the design of Dr. Moller, and was opened in the year 1832. In- 
ternally, there is a considerable degree of taste displayed in the 
arrangement and decoration of the boxes, and the absence of any on 
the proscenium is an improvement that might with advantage be 
copied elsewhere. The introduction of the Corinthian Order over the 
boxes in front of the galleries is also a very pleasing feature, and in a 
court theatre, like that of Versailles, perfectly admissible, but so 
destructive of both seeing and hearing on the part of large numbers of 
the audience as to be intolerable in a public theatre. 

Externally the curvilinear form renders it impossible to procure a 
covered descent for carriages, and relegates the staircases to very 
inconvenient positions. In fact, the whole arrangements of this 
theatre are sacrificed to a Classical ideal more essentially than was 
done at Bordeaux ; and, although the Orders here are used with more 
propriety and elegance, their introduction is equally a mistake, but, 
on the whole, perhaps, more prejudicial to truthful Art in the 
German than in the French example. 

At Antwerp the architect of the theatre felt compelled by public 
opinion to adopt this form ; but like a reasonable architect he inserted 
a square block of building between his external curvilinear arcade 
and the back of his boxes, and into this he put his staircases, saloons, 
&c., and so reconciled both theories. 

But the whole is a mistake, and will hardly be repeated, so it is 
hardly worth insisting on. 

The case is widely different with a new class of theatre which 
has recently been introduced in Germany, and might perhaps, with 
certain modifications, be made suitable to even our climate. These 
theatres are double. In the centre is the stage, of the usual dimen- 
sions, with wings for scenery, &c., but perfectly flat ; at the side 
next the street is an auditory of the usual form and dimensions, 
with all the accompaniments and arrangements of ordinary theatres 
used for night performances, and is called the Winter Theatre. At 
the other end of the stage is an auditory of a very different character 
— ornamented so as to bear the light of day, lighted by large en- 
dows at the side or from the roof, and surrounded by arcades opening 
on a garden. This theatre, of course, can only be used in daylight, 
VOL. II. - D 



Book X. 

and practically only in summer, though, for morning concerts and 
minor performances, it might be used all the year round. 

This really does look like an invention ; and at a time when late 
dinner-hours and midnight company have driven the upper classes 
almost entirely from our theatres, some such expedient as this may 
restore its pre-eminence to the legitimate drama. There is no reason 

in the world why a play of Shake- 
speare's should not be as interesting 
if seen with fresh air and the blessed 
light of day as if seen in a close 
atmosphere by the glare of gas- 
lamps. All pretence of immorality 
would be done away with by day- 
light, and so would nine-tenths of 
the stage-tricks which have so in- 
jured the real grandeur of the 
higher class of dramatic perform- 

The manner in which this double 
arrangement has been carried out 
by Titz, in the Victoria Theatre, is 
as successful as anything of its sort 
in Germany. The decoration is 
truthful throughout, and elegant 
at the same time ; and the garden- 
front, for its dimensions and cha- 
racter, is as pleasing a design as 
any that has been recently carried 
into eflPect in that country. 

In consequence of its double apse 
the dimensions of the building are considerable. It is 310 ft. in 
length, and about UO in extreme breadth, covering about 32,0o(> 
square ft., or nearly the same area as our Drury Lane. 

The only other theatre in Germany, that possesses anything so 
original as to be worthy of remark, is the so-called National Theatre at 
Berlin, commenced in 1819, from designs by the celebrated Schinkel, 
and finished in the following year. There is no theatre in Europe 
which can compare with its external ordinance, either for beauty or 
appropriateness, unless it be the Victoria Theatre just described. 

The design (Woodcut No. 317) consists, first, of a podium or base- 
ment, rusticated, but in perfect proportion to the superstructure ; 
above this are two ranges of steles, separating the building into two dis- 
tinct and well-defined storeys, and admitting of any required amount of 
light being introduced into the interior, without any violence or false- 
hood. All may be open, or every alternate one filled in witli a panel — ' 

Victoria Theatre, Berlin. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Book X. 



any arrangement, in fact, may be adopted that is required for internal 
convenience. The angles are strongly accentuated by bold piers, and 
the flanks divided by similar masses into compartments, so that there 
is no want of strength anywhere. The central compartment is raised 
considerably above the rest — not only breaking the outline pleashigly, 
and giving it dignity, but at once marking the character of the build- 
ing. The only objectionable feature is a portico of six widely-spaced 
columns in the front, at the head of a very splendid flight of steps. 
These features are well designed and beautiful in themselves, but the 
portico is seen to be useless ; and as for the stairs, the entrance is not 

View of the Summer Auditory of the Victoria Theatre, Berlin. 

up but under them : and a grand flight of steps that nobody is to ascend 
is about as ridiculous an object as can well be conceived. Notwith- 
standing this one solecism, wliich was partly excusable from the 
situation of the church on the Gens-d'armes Platz, between the 
two porticoed propylea of Frederick, this theatre may probably be con- 
sidered as Schinkel's masterpiece, and certainly is the best adaptation 
of Greek Architecture to such a purpose that has yet been effected 
either in Germany or elsewhere. Internally, the arrangements are by 
no means so successful. Convenience has been sacrificed to Clas- 
sicality to a greater extent than even at Mayeiice ; and though exten- 

2 D 2 



Book X, 

sive alterations have been made since it was first opened, it is not 
either a comfortable theatre to sit in, nor well adapted for hearing 
distinctly what is passing on the stage. 

The theatre which 
the same architect 
erected at Hamburgh is 
singularly plain and 
simple in its arrange- 
ments, both externally 
and internally ; but 
from these very circum- 
stances avoids many of 
the errors and incon- 
veniences of its more 
ambitious rivals ; and 
Avith a very little more 
ornament might be con- 
sidered as successful as 
an architectural design 
as it is said to be as 
a playhouse. 
On the whole the Germans can hardly be congratulated on their 
achievements in this department of Architectural Art. Their theatres 
want the elegance and appropriate cheerfulness which characterise 
those of France ; they have not even the business-like adaptation to 
their purposes to be found in those of England ; while they certainly 
are deficient in the simple unaffected grandeur of those of Italy. They 
seem, however, now to be entering on the task with a correcter appre- 
ciation of the conditions of the problem, and may yet do something of 
which they may hereafter be justly proud. 


Plan of Schinkers Theatre, Berlin. 
Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

Music Halls. 

The English are the only people who have hitherto erected halls 
or theatres specially for the performance of choral music ; but that 
class of entertainment is now so great a favourite with the public, that 
it promises to become an important institution with us. Already halls 
have been erected at Birminghan, Manchester, Li\-e]7wol, Leeds, 
Bradford, and other places ; besides Exeter, St. James's, and St. 
Martin's Halls, in the metropolis. All these, however, are much too 
small for the purpose, the lai-gest of them being hardly capable of 
accommodating 2000 persons : whereas a chorus of 500 performers 
with such a band as is usually found, for instance, in Exeter Hall, 
could just as easily be heard by 5ooo persons in a properly-constructed 

Book X. MUSIC HALLS. 405 

building ; and the increase of size would not prevent the solos being 
as well if not better heard by the same numbers ; but if the building 
were really well arranged, 5000, or even 10,000, might hear as distinctly 
as 2000 do now. 

All these halls have been constructed on the rudest possible prin- 
ciples ; they are mere oblong rooms, sometimes with a gallery along 
the sides and in front, and generally with a flat floor. It is, in fact, the 
old Tennis Court arrangement which preceded the pi'esent theatres ; 
yet, strange to say, when we build a lecture-room, either in the Uni- 
versities or our scientific institutions, we adopt almost literally the 
principles of the old Greek theatre ; and we know perfectly well that 
what would make the spoken \'oice heard would also be suitable to the ' 
singing voice ; only that the latter could be heard with equal distinct- 
ness at three or four times the distance. All that can really be said in 
favour of these halls is, that they are much better suited for the purpose 
than the cathedrals in whi('h these choral performances took place l)efore 
their erection ; but neither the one nor the other is at all worthy of the 
science of the present day, nor of the glorious class of performances to 
which they have been appropriated. 

A very great advance has recently l)een made in our knowledge of 
this subject from the experience of the performances at the Crystal 
Palace. On several occasions there, from 15,000 to 20,000 persons 
have heard the choruses of Handel in a ^'ery perfect manner, and one- 
half that number have heard the solos with very enjoyable distinct- 
ness ; yet the Crystal Palace is about the worst possible building, 
except in so far as size is concerned, for the purpose. The floor is 
perfectly flat ; the galleries accommodate very few, but are thrust most 
ol)trusively into the area, so as to hinder those under and behind them 
from hearing : all the arrangements of the auditory are of the most 
temporary and accidental character, and the external sounds very im- 
perfectly shut off ; yet the perfection with which the earlier opera 
concerts and the later oratorios have been heard in that building luis 
surprised and delighted every one. If the same audiences were arranged 
in a buildhig expressly constructed for the purpose, there can l)e no 
doubt but that 20,000, or even more, could hear an oratorio in a \-ery 
perfect manner. 

It is extremely desirable that further progress should be made in 
this direction, for not only have these great performances of choral nmsic 
become almost national among us, but they approach more nearly to the 
great semi-sacred theatrical representations of the Greeks than any- 
thing else that we know of in modern times. If any one at the present 
time^vished to reahse what the Greeks felt in witnessing a grand per- 
formance of one of the dramas of Sophocles or Euripides, he would 
perhaps come nearer the tnith by hearing one of the magnificently 
executed oratorios of Handel or Hadyn than by any other process 


available in niodern times, and infinitely more nearly than by listening 
to an English translation of a Greek drama performed behind the gas- 
lamps of a modern theatre. 

By far the most successful attempt in this direction which has 
been made in modern times is the Albert Hall, South Kensington. 
Originally suggested by Mr. Cole, the first design was prepared by 
Captain Fowke, but in consequence of his death was eventually carried 
•out by General Scott. Internally it is an ellipse, measuring 219 ft. by 
185, and is calculated to contain about 8000 persons, exclusive of the 
performers. For these an orchestra is provided, which, besides a very 
large organ, will contain 1000 singers and 200 instrumentalists. The 
height internally is l'M> ft. 

For extent and for the pleasing arrangement of the \arioiTS parts of 
its interior, this hall is quite unrivalled as an auditory by anything 
yet done in Europe ; and nothing can well exceed the effect when it is 
filled with people, but as a music hall, with reference to its acoustic 
properties only, it cannot be said to be so successful. The first element 
to be attended to in such a design as this, is that all those in the boxes 
or in each tier of seats, should hear equally well. As it is, those in 
the seats nearest the orchestra hear very much better than those in 
front, though obliged to turn a little on one side to see the singers. 
As originally designed by Captain Fowke, it was intended to have 
been an elongated ellipse, with a major axis of 280 ft. and a minor of 
105. Had this been carried out, it must have been an absolute failure, 
and though General Scott widened it relatively to its length, as far as 
he dared,^ it is now evident that, both architecturally and for the con- 
venience of the audience, it would have been better if he had adopted 
a purely circular form, which would have brought those in front 
nearly to an equality in point of hearing with those on the sides. As 
it is now, it probably would be better for hearing if the orchestra was 
placed on one of the longer sides instead of the end ; but the real solu- 
tion of the difficulty would have been the adoption of a semicircle with 
a flat side for the orchestra, or perhaps one slightly cur^'ilinear, as 
suggested by Saunders in his treatise on Theatres. In fact, it Avas a 
radical mistake to neglect the lessons taught us bv the Greeks in this 

' I'liese particulars are taken from a scriptions were obtained fur tlie erection 

paper read by General Scott to the Insti- ot the Hall, it was fouml out that if tliis 

tute of BritisJi Architects on the 22ik1 were altered to a circle or any otlier form, 

January 1S72. ihe subscribers might legally repudiate 

- It is curious sometiives to learu how their contract, and consequently all dis- 

frequently in tliis country other circura- cussion on tliat head wiis summarily put 

stances than considerations of fitness go- a stop to. In fact, one of the best oppor- 

vern the designs of buildings. In tliis tunities of erecting a jierfect music hall 

instance Captain Fowke's very crude was thrown away because Captain Fowke 

■design of an ellipse having been attached did not liappen to know the ditierence 

io the original prospectus, on which sub- between a theatre ani an amphitheatre. 

Book X. 



resi)ect. As the most artistic people the world has yet known, and 
those having had the most extensive experience in the construction 
of similar edifices for such purposes, it is tolerably certain they were 
the right guides to follow in such a 
case : and had it been done at Kens- 
ington, I feel no doubt but that 10,000 
people could have seen and heard better 
than the 8000 the present building 
accommodates ; it would besides have 
been less exjiensive and architecturally 
more pleasing, and would also have 
fitted far more conveniently the site on 
which it is placed. The experience 
gained in the construction of the Alljert 

Hall almost justifies the conclusion, that whenever the plan of a great 
theatre is intelligently adapted to the puriwse, 10,000 people may be 
accommodated and hear musical jKirformances of a certain character 
with the same ea«e and distinctness as the 2000 or 3000 who only can 
find places in tlie concert-rooms or theatres hitherto erected. 

Recent Theatres. 

[WiTHix the last twenty years or so theatre-building has made 
considerable advance in Engiand ; not, however, as regards the leading 

Diagi-am of Jlnsic Hall. From 

Facade of New Opera House, Paris. From Photograph. 


theoretical questions of design which our author has so carefully dis- 
cussed, but rather with reference to the practical safety of the public. 
It may, of course, be plainly said that there are two solemn facts not to be 
denied, namely : first, that it is only a question of time when any theatre 
will be destroyed by fire ; and secondly, that whenever, on this score or 
any other, a panic is occasioned amongst the audience, the danger to life 
and limb is an exceptionally serious risk. Accordingly, Parliament has 
been induced to meet these difficulties by legislation ; and the result is 
that the public authorities have had the responsilnlity imposed upon 
them, not only of approving or disapproving at discretion the plans of 
new theatres and similar edifices, Init of ordering improvements to be 
made in existing buildings of the kind \\hich appear to them to be 
defective in arrangement. In respect of the danger from fire, little if 
anything in the way of structural reform has been as yet accomplished, 
unless we rely upon certain inventions for producing a curtain which 
shall prevent the flames, originating as they do on the stage, from 
spreading into the auditorium ; but how far it is possible to apply fire- 
proofing to the stage appliances themselves is a question that ought to 
be exhaustively considered. For the audience, however, a great deal 
has been done, chiefly in the way of introducing ample corridors, 
escape stairs properly planned, more appropriate doors, and other 
miscellaneous contrivances in the same direction. It is much to 
be regretted that the proprietors of theatres are so liable to under- 
estimate the dangers thus dealt with ; but, as usual, the financial 
question is the one that presses most urgently. — Ed.] 




The introduction of railways, and the immense consequent development 
of civil engineering, have given rise to a class of works which, if not 
strictly Arcliitectural, are so closely allied to it, that it is impossible to 
escape alluding to them in a work hke this, though any attempt to 
describe them would be to commence a new volume, and to open out 
({uite a different field of inquiry from that \vhich has been followed out 
in the previous pages of this work. 

Those who have mastered the definitions stated at length in the 
introduction to this volume will liave no difficulty in jDerceiving that 
there is no real line of demarcation between the two branches of the 
building profession, though now they are kept distinct as Engineering 
and as Architecture ; but if the latter were only as truthful and as 
living an art as the other, the distinction w^ould entirely disappear. 
The Engineer would only be the Architect who occupied himself more 
especially with construction, and the more utilitarian class of works ; 
the Architect, properly so called, would be the artist who attended to 
the ornamental distribution of buildings, and their decoration when 

At the present day the line of demarcation is only too easily recog- 
nised, liecause the engineer is a man. who follows his branch of the 
profession on the same common-sense principles which guided builders 
in all previous ages. The architect has superadded those trammels of 
imitation which reduce his branch to an absurdity. The one great hope 
of a return to a better state of things is, that the engineers may become 
so influential as to force the arcliitects to adopt their principles, though 
at the present moment the tendency seems rather in the opposite 

As in consequence of these distinctions, however, the engineers are 
not architects within the definition of the term employed in the pre- 
ceding pages of this volume, their w^orks need not be enumerated here ; 
but in order to complete and to render intelligible what has been said 


above, it may be expedient to select one or two examples which will 
suffice to point out the differences which exist, and the tendency of 
the two branches towards the unknown future. 

There are of course certain l)ranches of his profession in which the 
civil engineer does not come in contact with the architect, such as the 
laying out and making of roads, the making of the permanent way of 
railroads, the making of embankments or of piers, and similar works ; 
but most of these are now being handed over to the mechanical en- 
gineer, or to the surveyor and the contractor. The civil engineer, in 
the sense in which we are now spea,king of him, is the builder of 
bridges and viaducts, the excavator of locks and docks, the constructor 
of piers and lighthouses, and frequently the builder of ships. 

In all these cases the primary object of the engineer is use, not 
beauty ; but he cannot help occasionally becoming an architect, and 
sometimes with singular success, though too frequently, when he 
ornaments, it is, as architects generally do, by boiTowing features 
from the Classical or Medieval styles, or by some mistaken applica- 
tion of them, betraying how little he has really studied the prol)lem 
before him. 

In illustration of these definitions, let us take the Dee Bridge at 
Chester. As an engineering work, nothing can be nobler. It is the 
largest single span for a stone bridge in England, proljably in the 
world ; built of the best materials, and in a situation where nothing 
interferes with its beauty or proportions. Its engineer, however, 
aspired to be architect ; and the consequence is, that instead of giving 
value to an arch of 200 ft. span, no one can, by mere inspection, 
believe that it is more than half that width. In the first place he 
introduced a common architrave moulding round the arch, such as is 
usually employed in Domestic Architecture, and which it requires 
immense thought to exaggerate beyond the dimensions of a porte- 
cochere. He then placed in the spandrils a panel 80 ft. by ;'»o, which 
in like manner we are accustomed to, ' of one-third or one-thirtieth 
these dimensions. He then, on his abutments, hitroduced two niches 
for statues, which it is immediately assumed would be of life size ; 
and beyond this, two land-arches without mouldings or accentuation 
of any sort, consequently looking so w^eak as to satisfy the mind there 
was no difficulty in the construction. 

Had Mr. Harrison been really an architect, he would have rusticated 
these land-arches with Cyclopean massiveness, not only to continue 
the idea of the embankment, but also to give strength where it was 
apparently most needed : and would have avoided anything in the 
abutments that savoured of life-size sculpture or of temple building. 
A Mediaeval architect would have pierced the spandrils with openings, 
thereby giving both lightness and dimensions to this part : or if that 
was not mechanically admissible, he would have divided it into three 

Book XI. 



or four panels, in accordance with the constrnction. The essential 
l)arts in the construction of a bridge, however, are the voussoirs of the 
arch ; and to this the architect's whole attention should first be 
turned. If there had been fifty well-defined arch-stones, the Inidge 
would have looked infinitely larger than it now appears. With one 
hundred it would have looked larger still ; but, if too numerous, there 
is a danger of the structure losing that megalithic character which is 
almost as essential as actual dimensions for greatness of effect. The 
true architect is the man who can weigh these various conditions one 
against the other, and strike a judicious balance between the different 
elements at his command. At Chester the builder has failed in this 
at every point, and by the same process which ruined St. Peter's. 
By exaggerating his details, the bridge has been dwarfed in exactly 
the same manner as the basilica. 

If this is all that can be done with bridges, it is far better that 
they should be left, like most of those recently built, to tell their own 
tale without any ornament whatever. A long series of tall arches is 

Dee Biidge at ( 

so beautiful an object in itself that it is difficult to injure it : but 
occasionally a slight moulding at the impost, a bold accentuation of 
the arch, and bold markhig of. the roadway render those beautiful 
which otherwise may only be useful in appearance. 

London Bridge is a very hajjpy instance of Ornamental Engineer- 
ing, but scarcely sufficiently ornamented to become architecture : but 
in this respect it is better than Waterloo Bridge, where the Doric 
columns on the piers, though certainly ornamental, are so inappro- 
priate as considerably to mar the effect. 

Neither of the bridges of Telford or Stephenson across the :\Ienai 
Strait makes the smallest pretension to architectural design. The 
former, however, though beautiful from the grace of its form, would 
have been even more so had the hand of taste been allowed to modify 
some of its details, but it is lucky in having escaped the Egyptian 
propylons in cast iron which were designed for the suspension Ijridge 
at Clifton. It must also be confessed he would have been a bold man 
who ventured to suggest a decoration for so untried a form as the 
tubular girder, and in the present state of design it is fortunate the 
attempt was not made. If not beautiful, it is grand, and there is' no 
offence against good taste. The same can hardly be said of Brunei's 


two bridges at Chepstow and Saltash. In these the great bent tube 
is the principal feature, but in lioth instances the construction is 
wholly internal and concealed. It Avould have cost nothing, and 
hardly added a ton to the weight, to have put enough of it outside to 
explain the arrangement, and so satisfied the mind. Wonderful as 
the latter is from its size and position, and fairy-like from the lightness 
of its form, it can only now ])e looked upon as a glorious opportunity 
neglected for producing one of the most beautiful specimens of Iron 
Bridge Architecture in the world. With the requisite amount of 
taste and thought this might have been done, adding Uttle or nothing 
to the expense.^ 

Among smaller objects, the lighthouses, such as those of Eddystone, 
Bell Rock, and Skerryvore, are the most satisfactory specimens of 
Engineering Architecture that have been produced. They have little 
or no ornament, it is true, but exquisite beauty of form with great 
perfection of material and workmanship ; and if these do not entitle 
them to rank in the higher class, we must cut out of our list 
Pyramids and Obelisks, Topes, Tombs, and all the simpler, though 
some of the grandest, objects that have hitherto been classed with 

Some of the entrances to the tunnels which are found on most rail- 
ways in England are as grand as any city gates, and grander than 
many triumphal arches, that are to be fouud in Europe. But this is 
only the case when they depend for expression on their own mass and 
dimensions, relieved only by a few simple but appropriate mouldings 
— when they, in fact, are treated according to the true principles of 
architectural design. Too often, however, the engineer has aspired to 
be an Architect in the modern sense of the term, and there are Grecian, 
Egyptian, Gothic, and other tunnel-fronts on various lines wdiich are 
as absurd as anything done in towns. They probably, however, are 
the exception. But a collection of these objects, classified as they 
belonged to the true or imitative styles of Art, would be as correct an 
illustration as could well be found of the two principles of design 
prevalent in ancient and in modern times, and a fair test of their 
relative excellence. In applying such a test however, it must be 
borne in mind that those who have designed the true examples are 
men in a hurry, who ])robably in all their lives had never time to 
think of beauty in Art, while those who erect imitative buildings 
have, generally spent their lives in iutense study of ancient Art, and 
become thoroughly imbued with its spirit, in the hope that they may 
be able to reproduce its beauties. 

' A bridi^e recently built over the Although it may want the height and 

Ehuie, at Mayence, on the same prin- the poetry of that at Saltash, it is not 

ciple, is very much more satisfactory, only a better specimen of Engineering, 

because the construction is all sliown. but also of Engineering Architecture. 


The point, however, at which the engineer and the architect come 
most directly iu contact is in the erection of stations and station 
bnildings. In every instance these onght to be handed over to the 
architect as soon as the engineer has arranged the mechanical details. 
LTnfortnnately, liowever, as Architectnre is practised in this conntry, 
its 23rofessors, if so called in, Avonld insist on the station being either 
Grecianised or Gothicised, or, at all events, carried out in some incon- 
gruous style ; and not one man in ten would have the courage to 
content himself with the ornamental arrangement of the parts and 
ornamental accentuation of the construction, these being all, or nearly 
all, that can be allowed in such cases, decoration being generally not 
only misapplied, but too costly for the jmrpose. 

On the other hand, when engineers attempt decoration they gene- 
rally fail. Nothing is so common as to see attenuated cast-iron 
Classical columns, with a fragment of an entablature on their heads, 
spaced ten or twenty diameters apart, and supporting trussed wrought- 
iron girders 100 or 200 ft. in span, or, what is worse, pointed arches 
and cathedral details appropriated to a similar purpose. 

To recapitulate what has been done in this direction would be to 
write a volume on Civil Engineering : but an example or two may 
suffice to place the style in its proper relation to Architecture in the 
stricter sense of the word, and thus prevent confusion of ideas regard- 
ing a proper definition of Art. 

The first example selected is the King's Cross Station, one of the 
very best of those in the metropolis. It consists of two great halls each 
800 ft. long, 105 ft. wide, and 9l' ft. high. Westminster Hall is 25.S ft. 
long, G8 ft. wide, and 86 high ; that at Padua 240 by 84 in width : so 
that neither of these, though the largest erected before this centur}', 
can compare in dimensions with the modern examples. Internally, the 
Paduan example is not so architectural as the station, and need not be 
compared : but that at Westminster, if placed in juxtaposition, 
explains at once the difference between Civil Engineering and Artistic 
Architecture. Both the halls depend for their effect principally on 
then- roofs. In the station the corbels are plain blocks, the ribs of the 
simplest form, and the quantity of timber exactly what was necessary 
to support the roof, and the castings and details are made wholly 
without reference to architectural effect. In the Hall the corbels are 
rich, the timber twice the quantity required, the arrangement of the 
parts designed as nmch for architectural as for mechanical effect, and 
every part carefully carved and ornamented. Between these two 
there are infinite degrees, but no line. Had the architect of the 
station felt himself justified in spending a little more money, he might 
easily have added strength, or the appearance of it : he might ha^•e 
added ornament ; he might have modified his proportions, or intro- 
duced parts that would have done so in appearance, till he made as 



Book XL 

Interior of the Station at King's Cross. 

beautiful an object as the Hall, and, considering the immensely increased 
dimensions, a far grander building ; but this he Avas not permitted to 
do, and it would have required great judgment and an immense amount 
of thought to have done it well. 

The internal fayade of the buildings of this station, which ranges 
along the whole length of the departure platform on the west side, is 
another important feature, which, without additional expense, might 
have been made far more satisfactory by a slight expenditure of thouglit 
only. It now consists of a range of similar windows in the upper storey, 
and of doors and windows treated similarly below. An important 
entrance from the first-class booking-office — a less ornate one from the 
second — would have given meaning to one part. The offices ought to 
have been treated in one style, the refreshment and waiting rooms in 
another ; and these ought to have been different from the lamp-room, 
porters'-room, and more menial bnildings attached. 

Externally, the design has the merit of being entirely truthful. The 
two great semicircular windows terminate appropriately the two sheds ; 
the clock-tower is a perfectly legitimate feature ; the booking-office on 
the one hand, and the archway from the arrival-platform on the other, 
arc equally appropriate. The one great defect is, that the style is so 
simple and grand that it ought to have been executed in granite, while 
it is carried out in simple brick. Knowing this, the spectator cannot 
help feeling that those deep offsets round the arches are misplaced, 
especially as the lightness of the roof they terminate is seen through the 



Exterior View of the Station at King's Cross. 


windows. One or two would have been ample ; and if the money saved 
in material had been employed in ornament, a more architectural fagade 
might have been attained, and one infinitely more appropriate to the 
material in which it is built. 

If we turn back for one moment to Schinkel's design for the 
Bauschule (Woodcut Xo. 24(»), we shall see at once how this might have 
been done ; and it may also be useful to note the difference between the 
two designs. At Berlin, the details are all good and all appropriate to 
brick Architecture, but the form of the building is too simple 
and severe for such a material. At London, the outline is sufficiently 
broken and varied for brick, but the details too massive and solid 
for anything Ijut stone or granite. Had Schinkel used as broken 
an outline as that of the station, or had the station been ornamented 
with as elaborate details as the Bauschule, they Avould both have 
been more perfect buildings ; but they both fail because their architects 
forgot to think of the materials they were about to employ. 

If the Great Xorthern Station is a success, it is because it is simply 
an unaffected piece of engineering skill, and makes no pretensions to be 
an object of architectural art. The same, however, cannot be said of its 
more ambitious neighljour at St. Pancras, on which so much ornament 
has been bestowed that it is elevated unmistakably into the higher 
class, though the mode in which this has been done renders it doubtful 
whether it is either so pleasing or so successful as its plainer sister. As 



325. Facade ol Strabbiug Railway Station, Paris. 

an engineering tour de foirc^ the roof of its great shed is as yet 
nnrivalled. It is 700 ft. long by 240 ft. clear span, without an 
a23parent tie of any sort. The ties, in fact, are the beams that form 
the roof of the vaults below and support the floor of the station. Add 
to these dimensions, that it is 100 ft. high, and it becomes colossal in 
every respect. But was it worth while to encounter all the engineering 
diflSculties, and go to such an expense to attain this result .'' Had it 
been divided by a range of two columns into two halls, each 120 ft.^ 
wide, it would have been equally convenient, would have cost less, and 
looked both longer and wider and higher than the present one. As it is, 
it kills everything ; the carriages and engines look like toy trains, and 
human beings like ants. There is no proportion between the shed and 
its uses, and everything looks out of place, and most of all the Gothic 
mouldings and brickwork, borrowed from the domestic architecture of 
the Middle Ages, which with its pretty littlenesses thrusts itself between 
the gigantic iron ribs of the roof. Add to all this the cui'ious clumsiness 
of the Medieval timbering of the roof of the Booking-office, in daring 
contrast with all the refinements of nineteenth century construction in 
the' neigbouring shed, and you have the two systems in such violent 
contrast that it is quite evident that this is not the direction on which 
it is possible an amalgamation can ever be effected. We mav regret the 

' Tlie central transept of the Crystal Palace at Sydenham is 120 feet wide by 
160 feet in height 

Book XI. 



plainness of the Great Northern Station, l)ut it is l)ettcr it slionkl 
remain as it is, rather than that it should he disfi.ii'ured with incon.ti'ruous 
medi£evalism like the station of the Midland Railway, which stands 
next to it. 

Another illustration how such a fa9ide might have heen ornamented 
is seen from the example on the preceding page, taken from the station 
of the Strasburg Railway at Paris. Practically the design of this faQade 
is the same as that of the Great jSTorthern Station, just described (except 
that there is only one shed in the French example) ; hut the latter, from 
its higher degree of ornamentation and its more- artistic arrangement, 
Ijecomes really an object of Architectural Art, and one perfectly appro- 
priate to the purpose without too great an amount of imitative features 
borrowed from any particular style. 

Favade of Statiuii, Newcastle, witli intended portico. 

The Station at jSTewcastle, though very grand, and possessing some 
excellent points of design, verges close on the faults so common in the 
Renaissance styles. It is neither quite truthful nor quite appropriate. 
The great portico might as well be the entrance to a palace or a theatre 
as to a railway station, and the ornamentation has too nuich the 
character of being put there for orname it's sake alone, without reference 
either to construction or to any of the real exigencies of the Iniilding ; 
and, what is worse, in order to give light to the rooms l)elo\\-, its roof 
must be either wholly or partially of glass, consequently its monumental 
forms at once become absiml. They are such as would almost suffice 
for a vault— a few iron posts would have done as well for all they have 

to support. 

Without attempting to assign the relative merit of each of tiiese 
examples, they may be taken as representing the three classes into which 
this stvl'e divides itself: the Great Northern Station representing 

'1 F 


Engineering Architecture, tlie Strasburg Station Artists' Architecture, 
and the station at Newcastle Arcliitects' Arcliitecture. 

From the two first alone can anything that is good or satisfactory 
ever be expected ; and, if jjersevered in, they offer precisely the same 
chance of developing a new style as was afforded to the ecclesiastical 
builders of the Middle Ages ; and if the engineers only appreciate 
the value of the principles on which they are perhaps unconsciously 
acting, they ought to insist on the same truth pervading all the 
buildings in their charge. If they do, they will render a service to 
the sister profession the benefit of which will be incalculable. 

Unfortunately this is not the view of the matter that has hitherto 
been taken, not only in this country, but more especially on the 
Continent, as we meet Avith Byzantine stations and Gothic stations of 
every degree and variety, but also Pompeian and Classic — e^'en pure 
Grecian-Doric stations — and every form of inapprojiriate blundering, 
and all to save a little thought and trouble on the part of the 
designers. But it may safely be asserted that these are all — • 
without a single exception — good or satisfactory in the exact pro- 
portion in which it is difficult to name the style in which they are 

If railway engineers and railway architects, in this country at least, 
have not done all that might be expected of them to produce beauty as 
well as convenience in their works, there is this, at least, to be said in 
their excuse — that all our railways are private commercial undertakings 
entered upon with a view to profit. If, therefore, the engineer can 
provide the necessary accommodation for 10,000/., he is hardly justified 
in spending 11,000/. Though it is quite true that a certain amount of 
spaciousness and dignity does attract custom to a railway, it is only to a 
certain extent ; and a subordinate is not justified in going beyond that 
without special sanction. 

A more fatal case hitherto has been the transition state in Avhich 
everything is. Though railways are little more than thirty years old, 
there is hardly an important station in this country that has not been 
either pulled down and re-erected in some other locality, or enlarged and 
altered so that nothing of the original design remains : and any station 
that is twenty years old, either is, or ought to be, rebuilt immediately. 
Even bridges have to be widened or altered, and the next few years may 
introduce such changes that all that men are doing now may have to be 
re-done. While this is the case, it is wasteful to spend much money ou 
permanent erections ; and much expenditure of time or thought is 
hardly to be expected from an engineer or his assistant on what they 
feel convinced may be swept away before they themselves have done 
with it. 

.Ill that can be asked from the railway authorities under these 
circumstances is elegant appropriateness, and all will have everv reason 


to be thankful if that saves lis from Media>val stations, Doric ]x)rticoes, 
Egyptian viaducts, and other absurdities of tlie sort, of which too 
many have ah'eady been perpetrated in tliis country. It will be 
well for us if engineers are confined for the future to this, and to this 
only, and prevented from indulging in those eccentricities which have 
hitherto marred so many noble works. It is far better that we 
should be content with plain, honest, solid, but useful erections, than 
that our buildings should lie adorned on the mistaken principles which 
have hitherto been supposed to constitute the art of Architecture. 

Architectural Engineering. 

[This heading is meant to suggest a very practical question, namely, 
how far the artistic design of building (Architecture) ought to be applied 
to those kinds of building which it is found convenient to place in the 
hands of the civil engineer rather thau the architect. Are there two 
kinds of building, one that ought to be made graceful and another that 
ought not ? Is there any possible reason why a line should be drawn, on 
one side of wliich the Architect by name shall be rerpiired to devote 
himself earnestly to the production of pleasantness, while on the other 
side the Engineer by name shall be allowed to produce unpleasantness 
and say he can't help it ? Why can't he help it ? He spends money 
freely enough, much more freely than the architect. If we were dealing" 
with some sort of clod-hopper, or navigator, and he said he couldn't help 
it, the reason would be plain. But this is a highly educated person, 
a gentleman, often of marked refinement ; and somebody ought to tell 
him that he must help it ; or, if he cannot be j^ersonally troubled with 
such triviality, why should he not call some one to his aid ? Broadly 
speaking, there is not a single feature in the scientific design of a bridge, 
a railway-station, a river-embankment, or whatever else it may be, over 
which the fine-art of building need fail to throw the graces of proportion 
and the elegances of embellishment. In France and Germany the 
engineer can do this for himself, or procure the proper doing of it, as 
mere matter of course ; why not in England ? — Ed.] 

Ferro-Vitreous. Art. 

A new style of Architecture was inaugurated together with the first 
Exhibition of 1851, which has had already a considerable effect on a 
certain class of designs, and promises to have a still greater influence in 

There is, perhaps, no incident in the history of Arcliitecture so 
felicitous as Sir Joseph Paxton's suggestion of a magnified conservatory 
to contain that great collection. At a time when men were puzzling 

2 E 2 


themselves over domes to rival the Pantheon, or halls to surpass those of 
the Baths of Caracalla, it was wonderful that a man could be found to 
sugo-est a thino- which had no other merit than being the best, and, 
indeed, the only thing then known wliich would answer the puqiose ; 
and a still more remarkable piece of good fortune that the commissioners 
had the courage to adopt it. 

As first proposed, the H-yde Park Crystal Palace, though an admirable 
piece of Civil Engineering, had no claim to be considered as an 
architectural design. Use, and use only, pervaded every arrangement, 
and it was not ornamented to such an extent as to elevate it into the 
class of Fine Arts. The subsequent introduction of the arched transept 
with the consequent arrangements at each end and on each side, did 
much to bring it within that category ; and a man must have had much 
more criticism than poetry in his composition who could stand under its 
arch and among its trees by the side of the crystal fountain, and dare to 
suggest that it was not the most fairy-like production of ArcMtectural 
Art that had yet been produced. 

As re-erected at Sydenham, the building has far greater claims to 
rank among the important architectural objects of the world. In the 
first place, its dimensions are unsurpassed by those of any hall ever 
erected. Its internal area is four times that of St. Peter's at Rome, and 
ten times that of om^ St. Paul's. A second merit is, that its construction 
is absolutely truthful throughout. Nothing is concealed, and nothing 
added for effect. In this respect it surpasses any Classical 
or Gothic building ever erected. A third is, that it is ornamentally 
arranged. Xothing can well be better, or better subordinated, than the 
great and two minor transepts joined together by the gircular roofs of 
the naves, and the whole arrangement is such as to produce the most 
pleasing effects both internally and externally. 

Although therefore it possesses in a remarkable degree greatness of 
dimension — truthfulness of design — and ornamental arrangements — 
which are three of the great elements of architectural design, it is 
deficient in two others. It has not a sufficient amount of decoration 
about its parts to take it altogether out of the category of first-class 
engineering, and to make it entirely an object of Fine Art. But its 
greatest defect is that it wants solidity, and that appearance of per- 
manence and durability indispensable to make it really architectural in 
the strict meaning of the word. Whether this quality can ever be 
imparted to any building wholly composed of glass and iron is veiy 
questionable, though a great deal could be done in tliis direction 
that has been neglected at Sydenham, and no doubt would have 
been done had its builders not been hampered by the purchase of 
the Hyde Park building, which \vas avowedly designed for temporary 

The only mode of really overcoming this defect will probal^ly be by 


tlie introduction of a third material. Stone is not quite suitable for this 
purpose ; it is too solid and too uniform. So the designers of the Paris 
Palais d'lndnstrie seem to have thought ; for, instead of trying to 
amalgamate the two elements at their command, they were content to 
hide their crystal palace in an envelope of masonry, which would have 
served equally well for a picture-gallery, a concert-room, or even for a 
palace. Nowhere is the internal arrangement of the building expressed 
or even suggested on the outside ; and the consequence is, that, however 
beautiful either of the parts may be separately, the design is a failure as 
a whole. ^ 

Though stone therefore may be inappropriate, brick and terra-cotta 
may be employed with iron and glass with the very best effect. When 
so used the brickwork must be of the very best quality, so as to be 
l^leasing in itself. Coloured Inicks should be employed everywhere to 
give relief and lightness, and the mouldings must be designed especially 
for the places to which they are applied. 

If at Sydenham the whole of the lower storey in the garden front 
up to the floor-line had been of lirickwork, it would have added very 
considerably to its momimental character. It would also have improved 
the design immensely if the angles of all the transepts had been brick- 
work up to their whole height, and the screen-walls to a certain extent. 
This would no doubt have added somewhat to the expense, but not to 
a greater extent than would have been saved in repairs : and where the 
roof is of glass, there is no inconvenience in blocking out a certain 
portion of the lateral light. The real difficulty in adopting such a mode 
of treatment is the immense amount of thought it would require to work 
out the details, and the skill and judgment necessary to do it well. If 
well done it would almost be equivalent to the invention of a new style, 
and for certain purposes more beautiful than anything that has gone 

These principles of design were to a very great extent followed up 
ill the Alexandra Park Palace, so recently destroyed by fire. The pro- 
portions of brick, iron, and glass there used were, as nearly as we can 
now see, those whit^h ought to be used in such structures, and each 
element was used with those constructive forms most appropriate to its 
special qualities, and with the happiest effect. Like the sister palace at 
Sydenham, its design was to a certain extent hampered by the purchase 

' At Paris they seem to liave found tiiste had been disijliiyed iii this building 
this out already, at least if we may judge as is usual in Parisian designs, it would 
from the design of a new Exhibition have been an immense step in the rigiit 
building which it was poposed to erect '' direction, and have gone far to bring the 
at Auteiiil. In this design stone is to be ferro-vitreous style within tiie domain of 
used everywhere for accentuation, but Architecture Tiie building, however, 
never for concealment. Brick would pro- ' never was completed, and the part erected 
bably have been better ; but if the same is now removed. 


of the 18C2 Exhibition building, ^vhich Avas very far from being a 
successful design in any respect, but the materials of which having 
to be used up in the new building to some extent, marred its beauty. 
Notwithstanding this, however, it was the most successful thing of 
its class yet carried out, and with a few alterations in detail, 
which it is hoped will be attended to when it is rebuilt, it may 
become really a very beautiful and appropriate building for exhibition 

Such a style would not, of course, be applicable everywhere ; but 
there are so many buildings of tliis class now wanted for exhibitions, 
for railway stations, for places of assembly, and for floricultural pur- 
poses, that it is of great importance the subject should be studied 
carefully, as it is one of the few branches of the art on which a future of 
progress seems to be dawning. If such a development were to take 
place in even one of the most insignificant branches of the art, men 
would not long remain content to spend their money on even the 
correctest Classic columns or Gothic arches ; once they perceived that 
these were not only absolutely useless, but actually hurtful, it might even 
come to be believed that the men of the nineteenth century practically 
knew as much of scientific construction, and were as refined in their 
artistic tastes, as our ignorant and hard-fisted forefathers in the thir- 
teenth. When this is once done the battle is gained, and Architecture 
again becomes a truthful art, and recovers the place from which she has 
been l)anished for centuries. 

Meanwhile it is curious to observe with what speed we are advancing 
in constructive skill. A conical dome, for instance, has been erected 
at Yienna, from the designs of Mr. Scott Russell, as the central point 
of the Exhibition building, wh'ch is 365 ft. in clear span internally, 
and upwards of 200 ft. in height, without any tie or constructive 
expedient l)eing shown. As originally designed, it was intended to 
have been twice that diameter ; and certahily, up to 1000 ft. clear span, 
this mode of construction presents no difficulty. Besides, it is the 
cheapest mode of permanent roofing yet known, costing somewhat 
less than 2^d. per cubic foot of contained space. It would in this 
manner be easy to put a roof ovei' the Great Pyramid, or St. Peter's in 
Rome, without touching either, at an expense which could easily be 
mastered. In fact, there seems no practical limit to the size that may 
thus be reached, but it is quite another question whether such dimen- 
sions are desirable. For the engineer they certainly are, but is there 
any architect who can ornament them, or render their forms ornamental ? 
It may be done hereafter, but at present no one probal)ly can say how 
he would rescue these gigantic forms from the hands of the engineer 
and render them true objects of architectural art, and till this is done 
we may tolerate them for their usefulness, though we cannot certainly 
admire" them for their beautv. 


|f Military Engineering. 

Military Engineering is another l)raiicli of the art wliicli has even 
more rarely been bronght in inodern times witiiin the domain of the 
architect than the Civil brancii lias been, and has not some of itsexcnses ; 
for all works of fortification are innjerial works, paid for by the nation, 
and constructed without reference to profit ; they might therefore be 
made ornamental, when ornament can be applied. The excuse is, of 
course, that there is no iconoclast like a cannon-ball, and it is absurd to 
ornament what is sure to be destroyed. This is, however, hardly a fair 
\iew of the case : of one hundred bastions that are built, not more than 
one on an average is ever fired at, and it is a pity that the remaining 
ninety-nine should disfigure the earth during the whole period of their 
existence. The masses are so great and the forms so generally pleasing, 
that a very slight additional expense and small amount of thought 
would render that beautiful which is now commoni)lace, and this without 
interfering in the smallest possible degree with its defensive qualities. 
The truth of the matter is that the civilian or the architect is never 
consulted in these matters. A fortification is always a secret and a 
mystery till it is built ; and the officer employed has probably never 
thought of Architecture as an art, and is too much occupied by the 
defensive elements of his design to think of anything else ; while 
military boards are not — it must be admitted — likely to encourage their 
subordinates in carrying out their artistic aspirations. 

It is hardly necessary to recall here the extreme beauty attained 
by Military Engineering in the Middle Ages. The grandeur of the 
donjon keeps — the variety and picturesqueness of the outer walls, with 
their flanking machicolated towers — the town wall with the gates — 
every part of the system was as admii-able and as perfect as the Eccle- 
siastical styles of the day. With the invention of gunpowder these 
things were changed. The masonry came to be pared down to a 
moderate height, and was buried in a ditch instead of b?;ing perched on 
a crag. It was crowned with an earthern parapet instead of a cornice- 
like battlement. The gates alone were left, for some time at least, in 
the hands of the architects, and still remain the only parts of a fortified 
enciente to which decoration is systematically employed. 

If San Michele was not the actual inventor of the pentagonal 
bastion, he was certainly the first man that reduced the modern systems 
to a practical shape ; and though the forms he employed have been 
slightly modified and enlarged since his day, nothing has been added to 
what he invented till the bastion system itself was superseded by the 
modern polygonal fortification. 



Book XI- 

His greatest work was the fortification of Verona ; and the gates 
he erected there have been the models followed with more or less 
exactness in every subsequent fortification in Europe. One of these, 
now called the Porta Stupa from its being closed, has been quoted as 
his greatest Avork of this class ; but it certainly is not so beautiful as 
that of the Castello del Lido (Woodcut No. 327), which for a single 
archway is one of the happiest designs of its class yet executed. In 
almost all cases the elements of these designs are the same — holdiy 
rusticated Doric columns, with rnsticated arches between, combined in 
various proportions. The French, who have more taste in these matters 
than other nations, have latterly omitted the pillars and introduced 
sunple rusticated ai'ches : elegant, it must be confessed, and appro]triate, 
but generally so plain that they must l:)e considered as belonging to 
Engineering rather than to Architectural Art. 

Gateway at Castello del Lido, Venice. 

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries some hundreds 
of these great city portals were erected in \'arious parts of Eui'oiie — 
all of grand dimensions — all more or less ornamented ; but it is sad 
to think there is not one of them whose design the mind dwells on 
M'ith pleasure, or wliich any one would '-are to see illustrated in a 
work like this. 

If, therefore, we must abandon the ])ortals, there is still an infinite 
number of works about an extensive fortress, all of which are capable 
of . artistic treatment. There are towers in the gorges ; there are case- 
mates and defensive barracks, buildings of the most imposing dimen- 
sions and most massive construction, which it would require very 
little to render architecturally beautiful ; and tliere are numberless 
minor objects which need not be left in their present state of utilitarian 

Book XI. 



32H. Central Compaitmeiit of the Granary at Modlin. 

One example must suffice : at New Georgiesk or Modliu there is 
a granary situated on a point where the Bug and Vistula meet. 
Standing in the centre of so important a fortress, it was necessary to 
fortify it. This has been done by introducing a set of gun-casemates 
on the lower floor, a projecting gallery above, and rendering the 
whole l)onil>proof. The style chosen is elegant ; and without one 

329. Diagram showing the whole of the Fagade of the Granary at Modlin. 

single feature that can be called inappropriate, an edifice of very 
considerable architectural merit has been produced out of the granary 
of a fortress, and there is no building in the world that might not be 
made efjually so if the same amount of care and pains were bestowed 

upon it.^ 

In Germany something has been done of late yeai-s to remedy this 
state of things, especially by the late King of Bavaria at Ingoldstadt 

' The building is 550 feet long by 100 feet high in the centre. 


and elsewhere in his dominions. Some of the Prussian designs, too, 
show a tendency to consider how a certain amount of architectural 
design can be superinduced on the utilitarian forms of these buildings, 
and sometimes with very considerable success. As before mentioned, 
the Arsenal at Vienna is one of the most successful of Austrian designs, 
but, being neither fortified nor in a fortress, it belongs more to the 
province of the civil than of the military branch. What might be 
done in this branch is obvious enough ; but, till some greater progress 
has been made than has hitherto been effected, it is evident that 
military construction has as yet no place in a work devoted to the 
study of Arcliitecture considered as one of the Fine Arts. 



On reviewing the history of Architecture during the three or four 
centuries to which the contents of this treatise extend, the retrospect, 
it must be confessed, is sufficiently melancholy and discouraging. 
For the first time in histoiy the most civilised nations of the world 
have agreed to forsake the only path that could lead to progress or 
perfection in the "Master Art," and been wandering after shadows 
that constantly elude their grasp. When we consider the extent to 
wliich building operations have been carried during that period, 
the amount of wealth lavished on architectural decoration, and the 
amount of skill and knowledge available for its direction, it is very 
sad to think that all should have been comparatively wasted in 
consequence of the system on which these were employed. Few will 
dispute the assertion, that there is no Renaissance example equal as 
a work of Art to any Gothic or Saracenic building, or that ever 
attained to the picturesque appropriateness of these styles. Nor has 
any modern design ever reached the intellectual elegance of the Greek 
or Roman, or the sublimity of the Egyptian ; and all this simply 
because of the mistaken idea that success could be achieved without 
thought, and that the past could be reproduced in the present. 

It is of little use, however, now lamenting over opportunities 
that have been lost and cannot be recalled : it is more important to 
try and find out what are the prospects of improvement now. or 
rather, before proceeding to this, to ask what is to be the style of 
the f utm'e ? 

To give a distinct and categorical answer to such a (piestion is 
of course impossible, as it would be equivalent to attempting to 
foresee what has not been invented, and to describe what does not 
yet exist. It would have been as reasonable to have asked Watt to 
describe the engines of the ' Devastation,' or Stephenson to sketch the 
appearance of the Great Western express train at the time when he 
started the ' Experiment ' on the Stockton and Darlington line. If 
the style is to be a true style, it will take many years to elaborate, 
and many minds must be employed in the task : but if men once 
settle into the true path, success must follow, and the new style 


must be good and beautiful, perhaps more so than any that have 
preceded it. In the meanwhile, however, it is easy to reply, nega- 
tively, that it certainly will not be Gothic— if for no other reason, 
at least for this : that the Mediifival is a complete and perfect style, 
and progress in it is consequently impossible without a recurrence 
of the circumstances in which it was created. It was the result of 
centuries of continuous progressive changes growing out of the wants 
of the times, and supplied by the restless mental activity of thou- 
sands of minds applied through long ages to meet these exigencies. 
"We are separated by the gulf of centuries from these times : we 
can neither go back to nor recall them : we can never settle again 
into the same groove, and, while this is so, progress in that direction 
is imj^ossible. If we could forget the invention of gunpowder, and 
induce nations to revert to bows and arrows and plate-armour, — if 
we could ignore the printing-press and all its thousand influences, or 
persuade ourselves to believe that the steam-engine is still only the 
dream of some crack-brained mechanic, — then indeed we might restore 
the Middle Ages, and Gothic Architecture might become again a 
living form in such a state of things ; but, till all this and more is 
done, it must remain only a fragment of the past, utterly strange and 
uncongenial to our habits and our feelings — an amusement to the 
learned, but taking no root among the masses nor ever being an 
essential part of our civilisation. On the other hand, the more we 
study the Architecture of the past or become familiar with its details, 
the more enamoured must we be with so honest and so earnest an 
■expression of human wants and feelings, and the more incapable are 
we of emancipating ourselves from its particular influence. This we 
already feel ; and every day we are' becoming more and more correct 
as copyists, and more and more intolerant of any de^•iation from the 
exact types of the Middle Ages. 

The same is true of the pure Classical styles, from which we 
are separated by even a, longer interval of time, and also by a 
geographical barrier which renders them unsuitable for our climate. 
But it is not quite correct to say that our sympathies are not 
equally engaged by them. The educated classes, at least, know 
more and feel more for the age of Ictiiuis than for that of William 
of Sens, and are more capable of appreciating that of Vitruvius than 
that of Wickham or of Waynflete. But be this as it may, the 
■Classical is also a perfect style, and progress in it is unattainable 
unless we can put ourselves in the position of the Greeks or Romans 
when they were elaborating it : and without progress it is impossible 
to adapt any ait really to our use or purposes. 

It need hardly be added that all this is even more true as regards 
the Saracenic, the Indian, the Chinese, or Mexican ; but there is yet 
■one other style within whose limits progress still seems possible. 


Tiie Renaissance Italian is \>y no means worked out or ]terfeete(l, and, 
from the causes pointed out in the preceding,' X)age8, has hardly yet 
had even a fair trial of its merits. 

Originally it was a compromise hct,veen tlie (iotliic and the 
Classic styles, borrowing the forms from the one, the details fi-on> 
the other ; and it has in its progress oscillated backwards and for- 
wards, from almost pure Media[ivalism on the one hand to jjure 
Paganism on the other. It has also tliis immense advantage : in its 
dexious course it has been so far adai)ted to the wants and exigencies 
of modern times, that it is jjeifectly suited to all our puqxjses and is 
so familiar to us that we may base on it any improvement we may 
invent without its seeming strange a7id out of place. It has also 
this immense advantage, which the Gothic never can possess, that 
it requires and demands that the highest class of Art in painting and 
sculpture should be associated with it, instead of the cnide ])arbarism 
of the Middle Ages. 

Within the limits of such a style as this progress seems possible : 
and if it is, the problem is of easy solution. It does not requh'e a 
man or set of men, as some have supposed, to invent a new style ; 
the great want now is self-control and self-negation. "What we 
requii-e is that architects shall have the moral corn-age to refrain 
from borrowing, and be content to think, to work, and to improve 
hit by bit what they have got. If some artistic Chancellor of the 
Exchequer would only lay a heavy tax on every Classic coltunn 
erected after this date, and assess equally every mullioned window or 
o\ery Gothic pinnacle employed in future buildings, we should soon 
arrive at a Ixitter state of things. 

The demand, however, must arise with the public, and cannot 
come from the profession. "We have no right to ask that an architect 
shall starve because he refuses to erect Gothic; churches, Grecian 
temples, or Chinese summer-houses, feeling that he can do Vxjtter. 
The public must say to those it employs, You shall arrange your 
design according to the dictates of common sense, you shall elaborate 
it by thought, and you shall apply ornament with taste to what you 
have thus worked out ; but beyond these three postulates you shall 
not go. "When this is done we shall again know what the ait means. 
If we ask for anything else, we may get something which may l)e very 
beautiful, but it Mill not be Architecture. 

The real question . lies somewhat deeper. Are we prepared to 
give up the idea that we are, or may be, intellectual Greeks or 
world-conquering Romans ? are we ready to abandon the feeling 
that we are powerful Mediaeval priests or chivalrous knights-errant ? 
are we, in fact, prepared to forego all our dream.s of the past, and be 
content to acknowledge ourselves as only human beings living in the 
latter half of the nineteenth century, looking fons-ard to and hoping 


in the future ? We have done so in Literature ; we are doing this iu 
Painting ; Sculpture seems tending towards the same course, and why 
not Architecture ? More than this, the principles of common sense 
have been adopted by the engineers, who form one-half of the building 
profession. They are too young as a body, and have as yet had too 
little time to think, to know exactly what course they intend in 
future to pursue ; but when once they have leisure and organisation 
it remains to be seen whether they will have sufficient influence to 
force the architects to adopt then- principles, or whether the vanity 
of imitating the older and more artistic branch of their profession 
may not induce them to rest content with their lazy but aristocratic 
system of copying. Fine Art is a hard task-mistress, and to obtain 
her rewards men must work, and think, and exercise infinite self- 
control. False Art is an easy, smiling dame, whose favours are 
readily dispensed, but worthless when obtained. There is, in fact, 
no difficulty in finding the path by which perfection may be attained ; 
the one question is, Have we the courage to choose it, and, having 
chosen, have we the perseverance necessary to reach the goal ? 

Although Architecture never was in so false a position in this 
country since the Reformation as it is at this moment, or practised 
on such entirely mistaken principles, still there are signs that 
encourage a hope that better days are dawning and may again 
brighten into sunshine. At no period during the last three centuries 
have the public taken the same interest in Architectural Art or felt 
so much desire to enjoy its beauties. As a body the Architects of 
this country have never been so numerous, so well instructed, or so 
earnest in the exercise of their vocation as at present, ^^1nle recent 
experience is not likely to encourage the employment of amateurs 
who fancy they can learn all the secrets of the art without work, 
and who are ready to design anything without bestowing upon it 
even the most moderate modicum of thought. 

What is wanted to ensure progress towards perfection is, first, 
that we shall have a public with feeling enough for the art to 
desire it, and with knowledge sufficient to judge of what is good 
and beautiful ; a body of arcliitects so intelligent as to be able to 
grasp the conditions of the problem, and with taste enough to design 
the requisite forms of expression ; a class of builders with skill to 
arrange and energy to cany out what has been so designed ; and, 
more perhaps than any of these, a class of art workmen so instructed 
and so expert that they shall be able to understand the work they 
have in hand, and so skilled as to be able to execute it thoughtfully 
and well. Many of these elements we already possess, and are pro- 
gressing towards the attainment of the rest. But even all these 
will be of no avail unless every class is thoroughly imbued with 
a conviction that Architecture is neither more nor less than a true 


and progressive developmeTit of a useful art into a fine art, but 
which can never throw off its connection with its parent, nor can 
ever be practised on any other principles than those which alone 
have led to the elaboration of other useful arts into their a3sthetic 

In addition to this, it is indispensable that the public mind 
should be thoroughly disabused of the idea that Archaeology is 
Architecture, or has, in fact, any direct connection with it. It 
never was so when Art was a living thing, and there is no logical 
reason why it should be so now. Once this error is exploded, and 
we really set in earnest to elaborate Building with truth into 
Architecture, there seems no reason why we should not surpass all 
that has been done up to this time. We have more wealth, more 
mechanical skill, more refinement than any nation, except perhaps the 
Greeks, and taste (even if not innate) may result from the innnense 
extent of our knowledge. 



So much space has been occupied in the preceding pages by criticism on 
the Domical class of cliurches invented by the Itahans, that it may be 
worth while, and certainly will add to the clearness and intelligibility 
of what has been said, to try if by a couple of diagrams I can explain 
more clearly the conclusions I have arrived at on this subject. I do 
this the more willingly because, if the principles which are enun- 
ciated in the preceding pages are correct, Architecture is a progressive 
art, in the practice of which — as in scientific research— any one may 
start forward fi'om all that has been acquired up to his day ; and, 
basing his judgments on all previous knowledge, he ought to be able 
to see how forward progress may be made, and former faults a^"oided 
if called upon to design similar Iniildings. In the case of any one beiug 
called upon to criticise a poem, or any work of phonetic art, the case 
is widely different. It is by no means necessary that a man should be 
a poet, or to prove that he could do better, before expressiug an o])iiiion 
regarding any poetical work. An amateur may be an exquisite judge 
of paintings who never handled a brush ; and it does not require that 
a man should ever even have attempted to model, in order that he may 
be able to appreciate the merits or point out the defects of a statue. 
These are all works depending on individual talents and idiosyn- 
crasies — rays of truth and light proceeding from one brain and dying 
with it. But Architecture stands on a totally different footing. It is a 
progressive technic art, governed by fixed laws, and reaching perfection 
when practised as a true art, by a definite and well-nnderstood path. 
It thus requires no great amount of talent, nor even any extensive 
knowledge of the subject, when a building is finished, for any one to 
point out its faults of proportion, or its errors of detail. Almost any 
one, consequently, if instructed to erect a similar building for the same 
pui'poses with similar materials, ought to be able to do better than his 
predecessor if content to repeat his work, by merely avoiding his mis- 
takes. Indeed there are few architects who, when their buildings are 
finished, would not like to begin them again. When erected, they see 
things that did not occur to them before, and which they would like to 
alter if it were not too late. When this art is practised on true prin- 

Al'rENDIX. 433 

oiples, each man only tries to avoid the errors of his predecessoi-s, and 
to improve on their successes. It was this easy task that brought 
architecture to perfection wherever it succeeded ; and, when looked at 
from this progressive point of view, it renders the task of the critic 
easy and his judgment clear. 

There are of course some buildings, such as the Parthenon at 
Athens or the Hypostyle Hall at Karnac, regarding which it is im- 
possible to see how they could be improved. In their especial direc- 
tion, progress beyond them seems to us impossible. Westminster 
Abbey and St. Ouen, Rouen, and some few other Gothic churches, 
seem also beyond imjirovement. So do many Indian buildings in 
their own line ; but it requires no great knowledge of the subject 
to see how most of our Gothic cathedrals and churches might have 
been better had they adopted forms or details which were used else- 
where, but which they either neglected or misapplied. Be all this 
as it may, no one will probably deny that the class of churches of 
which we are now speaking is one very open to criticism. They 
were invented in a bad age, and though there is progress among 
them, the school to which they belong never understood the steady, 
self-denying principles of progress which brought the Pointed styles 
to such a high degree of perfection. Each architect considered himself 
as a creator or inventor, like a poet or a painter, and as entitled to in- 
dulge in his individual fancies ; and as his style to a great extent was 
■created by himself, so also it consequently died with him. Still there 
was progress, as for instance between the exterior of St. Peter's and 
that of St. Paul's, and between the interior of the last-named church 
and the interior of the Pantheon at Paris ; and gathering instruction 
from all that has gone before, it does not seem difficult to arrange a 
plan which shall combine most of the merits while avoiding most of 
the errors of the churches which have been erected. At all events the 
annexed plan and section, whether they succeed in this or not, suffice 
to explain the conclusions on this subject which have been arrived at in 
consequence of the investigations which this treatise has forced upon its 

In the annexed diagrams the dome is drawn with a diameter of 
lOO ft., and as 164 ft. high internally. The nave, transepts and choir 
are GO ft. wide by 100 ft. high, and the three subordhiate domes arc each 
64 ft. diameter. The total length of the church over all outside is 
400 ft. east and west by 240 ft. across the transepts. 

Comparing these dimensions with those of St. Paul's, we find it is 
one-fifth less in length— 400 ft. as against 500. The breadth is about 
the same, but the whole area covered is also one-fifth less— 67,000 ft. 
against 84,000 ft. Yet with this reduction it is fully one-half larger 
internally for all state or liturgical purposes, for the simple reason that 
VOL. II. ^ ^ 



m n ■ BO 

Diagram Plan of Latin Cathednil arrangements. Scale 100 feet to 1 inch. 

the nave, choir, and transepts are all more than GO ft. wide compared 
with 40 in the present church. If the dome in the diagram weve 
increased to the 108 ft. of St. Paul's, and all the other parts pro- 
portionately extended, the total length would be 432 ft. ; the width of 
nave, &c., 65 ft., and of the subsidiary domes and semi-dome, 70 ft. 
With these dimensions it would accommodate on its floor a congrega- 
tion greater by two-thirds than the present church will contain, 
though remaining one-sixth less in dimensions. In other words, if the 
present church will accommodate, say 10,000 persons, that shown in 
the diagrams would equally well accommodate 15,000, and, with an 
increase of 8 percent, in its dimensions, 17,000 at least. This would 
not be an unmitigated benefit if it were accompanied by any increased 
difficulty in seeing or hearing. But the contrary is the case. The 
space under the dome would be the same, and that is as far as the human 
voice can reach in preaching ; but there are great festal occasions when 
in a metropolitan cathedi'al it is most desirable to accommodate a greater 



number than can be reached by a single human voice in speaking. In 
some cases it is ahnost enough if those present see what is going on, 
and they always can be reached by choral services and music of a 
certain class. Whether lowering the dome 50 ft. would or would not 
have any effect on the human voice is not (juite clear. If it had any, it 
must be in a beneficial direction. 

It could not either be considered a benefit if the additional spacious- 
ness were attained by any loss of artistic effect ; but it is evident that 
the result would be quite the contrary. Instead of being, as remarked 
before, three rooms with no definite harmony of proportion between 
them, there is no part in this building where the rest of it cannot be 
faii-ly seen, and no part which is so large or so high as to overi)ower 
and crush any other. It might be made more uniform and room-like 
by closing the openings through the four great piers, and so diminishing 

331. Diagram Section of Latiu Cathedral arrangements. Scale 100 feet to 1 incli. 

their area. If this were done, the nave and transepts might have an 
opening of 70 or 75 ft. to a dome of 100 ft. But this result would be 
gained at the expense of the long-drawn perspective, and of much of 
the variety and light and shade which the present arrangement com- 
l)ines. Were this done, it would require the subordinate domes to 
be increased to 75 or 80 ft., and in that case there would cease to be 
sufficient gradation between the great central dome and the subordinate 


Comparing the proposed church with Sta. Sophia at Constantinople, 
which, so far as is known, is the most perfect interior of a, Christian 
church yet erected anywhere, it will be observed that their domes are 
of exactly the same relative height and proportion, and they are lighted 
in the same way. The one question therefore is, Are two semi-domes of 
the same diameter as the great dome the best mode of joining the great 
dome to the rest of the church ; or is the Latin mode better, of havmg 

2 F 2 


the other parts covered with waggon-vaults leading up to the central 
dome in every direction ? 

On the whole it does not appear to me open to doubt but that the 
Latin mode is the most perfect, if properly canied out, but no perfectly 
successful example has yet been executed. In most cases the whole is 
thrown out of harmony by the excessive height of the dome internally. 
In Sta. Sophia alone is this perfect, and its proportion has consequently 
been adopted in the diagram. Its apex can be seen from almost every 
part of the church, and under an angle of 35° to the vertical. St. 
Paul's is practically a room twice as high as it is wide, and to see its 
apex you are obliged to look upwards at an angle of 2<)°, which 
is intolerable. The dome at Washington is a funnel, and its apex 
can only be seen at an angle of 14° from the vertical. A dome a 
little lower than even Sta. Sophia might perhaps be better, but it 
would be difficult to bring it down without disturl)ing its relative 
proportion to the other parts. Where a proper proportion is main- 
tained, height in itself is one of the most important elements of effect, 
and ought never to be neglected except when out of harmony with the 
other parts of the building. 

The main proportions of the subordinate parts at St. Peter's are 
nearly the same as those adopted in the diagram, but at Rome they are 
crushed by the disproportionate altitude of the dome ; and in plan, too, 
it certainly is a mistake to make the choir and transepts absolutely iden- 
tical, both in plan and detail. The choir, as the most sacred part of 
the church, ought to be the most dignified, both in plan and decoration. 
Either it ought to extend eastward in the relative proportion showii in 
the diagram, or if you choose to consider the space under the dome as 
your choir, then it ought to terminate in an apse, as shown in the 
dotted lines. Another defect in the plan of St. Peter's is, that the 
great aisle that surrounds the dome is the same on all sides, and con- 
sequently, though beautiful in itself, it wants meaning. The two domes 
on each side of the choir give it dignity, and are large enough to be 
auxiliary chapels, with their altars looking the same way as the great 
altar, but the two on each side of the nave are not wanted. If they had 
altars, they must look towards the door, and they rather confuse than 
help the perspective of the nave. These defects in St. Peter's are 
sought to be avoided in the plan under discussion. In it the side 
chapels of the choir not only give dignity to the east end, and infinite 
variety of perspective, but they would be found of great value as 
morning or ceremonial chapels. It is one of the great defects of St. 
Paul's that the side aisles, especially of the choir, are practically useless, 
and that the only chapels there are two small ones 25 ft. by 50, at the 
west end, where they are not wanted. 

If these two side chapels were omitted, the building might be 
further reduced without its harmony being disturbed by bringing for- 


ward the apse to the position shown by tlie dotted lines, tliontrh then 
a different Hturgical arrangement wonld of course be necessary. Otlier 
alterations might also be introduced to suit jtarticular circumstances, but 
my impression is that unless something very like the pr()|)ortion of ])arts 
indicated in these diagrams is maintained, success is not attainable in 
churches of this class or style of arcliitecture. 

In conclusion, I may add that, were I making the design for a 
church, I would not have employed one great Order — internally at 
least. I would have divided the interior into two storeys of arcades, 
or, to use the language of Gothic architecture, have introduced great 
triforia everywhere ; and I would be very sparing of columns outside, 
if I used them at all. The plan and section here given are not meant 
as things that ought to be, or could be executed, but as diagrams to 
explain criticisms on churches Avhich, with scarcely an exception, use 
a single range of pillars internally, and in almost all cases of the 
Corinthian order. 

I have not even attempted to design the dome, but assumed that it 
would, externally at least, be like that of St. Paul's— the most beauti- 
ful yet executed ; but I may remark that, by the mode of construction 
adopted, it would be easy to raise a cone of any height or strength to 
support a lantern of any required Aveight Avithout at all interfering 
with any ornamental forms or features. The angle of the cone in this 
instance Avould be only 15° to the vertical. AVren's is 25°, and rests 
on another with a slope of 5°, so as altogether to make a clumsy, 
broken sort of construction. With a cone of 15° as a core, my 
conviction is that it would be easy, with vertical ribs, to build a brick 
dome of any required form, and if this were covered with good Portland 
cement it would be as durable as stone, and, from the absence of joints, 
a cement covering, in this situation, would be more appropriate than one 

of stone. ^ 

Of course it Avould be absurd during the prevalence of the present 
Gothic mania to ask the good iDCople of Edinburgh, who are aliout to 
build themselves a cathedral, or those of Liveqjool, who are thinking 
of so doing, whether such a church as this might not suit them as well 
as a Gothic one. It would be in vain to urge that it would l)e more 
spacious relatively to its area, more suited for congregational ].urposes 
from the absence of pillars, more elegant from the purity of its 
details, more cheerful, and altogether more appropriate to the nineteenth 

' If the good people of Fl.^rence really one with taste enough to panel it in 

Nvished to complete their cathedral and coloured cement, not in imitation uf, but 

adorn their city, the best thing they could in harmony with, the lower part, the 

do would be to sttip the wretched cover- exterior of the building might yet be ma.le 

in- of tiles off the dome of their cathe- a. beautiful as it was originally designed 

dral, and replace them by a covering of by Arnolpho. ia spite of the crushing 

cement If it were possible to find any disfigurement of Brunelle.chi s dome. 


century and its wants. It may or might be all this, and more, but it is 
not what the clergy want, so it is no use arguing the question. But it 
is not the same at Berlin, where they are not, yet at least, so steeped 
in Medieevalism as we are. They want a cathedral there, and have 
liitherto been most unsuccessful in their designs. Might it not be well 
for them to turn their attention to elaborating, out of the fulness of 
their knowledge, such a design as this ? If they did it honestly and 
•earnestly, and with sufficient self-denial, I feel convinced they might 
produce a more beautiful building than any of its class that now adorns 
any capital in Europe. 


Tlie Editorial Additions indicated hy italics. 

(The re-miiobt'fing of the pages luay sometiiaes be one page in error.) 

Aherdeen City Hall, ii. 139. 

Adam, Kobert, ii. 65. 

Adelphi Theatre, tlie, London, dimen- 

sion.s of, ii. 394. 
Admiralty Competition, ii. 159. 
Alban^s (,st.) Abbey, ii. 158. 

■ , llolborn, ii. 137. 

Albert Hall, the, ii. 139, 142. 

Albert Hall, 8outh Kensington, ii. 406. 

Albert Memorial, the, ii. 139, 161, 162, 

Alberti, Leon Battista, i. 62, 65-68, 102, 

Alcala, university at, i. 197, 198. Para- 
uimfo, state apartment in, i. 199. 
Court of archiepiscopal palace at, 
i. 198. 
Alcr.zar, Toledo, i. 203. External facade 

of, i. 204. 
Alessi, Galeasso, i. 95, 99, 157, 159, 160. 
Alexandra Park Palace, ii. 421. 
Alexandra Theatre, St. Petersburgh, the 

dimensions of, ii. 387, 390. 
All iSainti^\ Margaret Street, ii. 134, 135, 

All Souls' College, Oxford, ii 53. 
Allahabad, University at, ii. 306, 308. 
All in nee Insurance Office, ii. 160. 
Amanati, i. 118. 
Amboise, castle of, i. 252. 
America, architecture, introduction of 
Classic styles bv Spaniards, ii. 320. 
Mexico, ii". 320," 323. Peru, ii. 323, 
America (North), arcliitecture of, ii. 327- 
330. Washington, ii. 330 339 Eccle- 
siastical architecture of, ii. 340-342. 
America, Becent Architecture, ii. 343. 

, Early Architecture, ii. 344. 

, Epoch of 1851, ii. 345. 

, After the War, ii. 347. 

, Importation of European Architec- 
ture, ii. 349. 
, Timber-work and Iron, ii. 351. 

America, rrofessional Guild, ii. 355. 

, Journal ism, ii. 355. 

-, I'hilistinisin, ii. 355. 

, Architectural Style, ii. 356. 

, Ecclesiastical Design, ii. 361. 

■ , Secidar Gothic, ii. 366. 

, Ordinary Classic, ii. 366. 

, Domestic Architecture, ii. 369. 

, Future of Architecture, ii. 373. 

American Taste, i. 171. 
Ames Building, New York, ii. 368, 374. 
Amesbury House, elevation of, ii. 29. 
Ammanati, Bartolomeo, i. 148. 
Amsterdam, sta.dt-haus at, ii. 236. Oude 
Kerck at, ii. 236. Nieuwe Kerck at, 
ii. 236. 
Andrea (St.), Mantua, plan of church 
of, i. t)6. Section and elevation of 
porch, i. 67, 68. 
Androuet du Cerceau, i. 217. 
Angelo, Michael, i. 18, 77, 82, 83, 90, 94, 
95, 103, 124, 138. 1-10-143. 157. 163. 
Anglo-Saxon Art, possible supremacy of, 

i. 171. 
Annunciata (Sta.), Genoa, plan of church 

of, i. 107. View, interior of, i. 108. 
Antwerp, Hotel de Ville at, ii. 230. 
Front elevation of, ii. 231. San Carlo 
Borromeo at, ii. 232. Theatre, the 
dimensions of, ii. 394. 
Aranjuez, palace at, i. 204. 
Arches, triumphal, in France, i. 296- 
299. Germany, deficiency in, ii. 189. 
Architects, Italian, in France, i. 213. 
Architecture, modern styles, introduc- 
tion to, history of, i. 2-56. of 
change in : Kevival of classical litera- 
ture, i. 6-9. Reform in religion, i. 11- 
16. Painting and sculpture, i. 16-24. 
Technic and i)houetic forms of, i. 24- 
34. Typical examples of change, 
i. 39-49. Remarks on history of, 
ii. 430, 431. 



Architecture, French and Italian, com- 
pared, i. 215. 

Architecture, by wliom appreciated '1, ii. 

Architectural Engineering, ii. 419. 

^''Architectural Art" (xii.), ii. 126. 

^'■Architectural Courts," the, 1851, ii. 13G. 

Arcliitectus, (xiii.) 

Arena, Padua, chapel of, i. 17. 

Arequipa Cathedral, Peru, ii. 323-326. 

Aristotile, Bastiano, i. 124. 

, Francesco, i. 124. 

Arnolpho, i. 62. 

Art, technic and phonetic forms of, 
i. 24-32. Examples of, i. 39-49. Eth- 
nography of, i. 49-56. Ferro-vitreous, 
ii. 430-433. 

Artist and Critic, ii. 371. 

Artistic Religion, ii. 144. 

Aston Wchh, and Bell, ii. 160. 

Athens, National Academy, ii. 227, 228. 

Audley Inn (or End), ii. 15. 

Augustin (St ), Paris, i. 237. 

Augustine's (St.), Bamsgate, ii. 134. 

Australian Archiiceturc, ii. 171. 

Author, the, and the Holy Places, (xa;.) 

, in India, (xxi.) 

, scheme of the, i. 1. 

, qualifications and attitude of the, 


, Memoir, (xxvii.) 

Baccio, i. 124. 

Baeza, Carcel del Corte' at, i. 208. 

Balbi Palace, Genoa, i. 161. 

Balzan, ii. 317. 

Banhs and Barry, ii. 142, 150. 

Barbarano Palace, Yicenza, design of, 
i. 153. 

Barberini Palace, Kome, view of, i. 149. 

Barbieri, ii. 387. 

Barcelona, I^onja at, i. 206. 

Baroda, palace at, ii. 307, 308. 

Barroiv Toum Hall, ii. 146. 

Barry, ii. 121, 127, 128, 129, 134. 

, E., ii. 136, 140, 151. 

Barry, Sir Charles, ii. 88-94, 112. 

Bartolini Palace, Florence, i. 124. 

Basevi, ii. 80, 81. 

Basilican churches in Italy — Exteriors 
of, i. 99-104. Interiors of, i. 104-112 

Basilicas, at Rome, i. 74, 92, 109. Yi- 
cenza, i. 156. Munich, ii 193, 194. 

Rattle of the Styles, the (xxii.), ii. 123, 

Beckett, Sir E., ii 158. 

Beckford, ii. 97, 98. 

Begum Kotie, Luckno^y, the, ii. 303. 
View of, ii. 303 

Belgium, ii. 229-235. 

Bell Rock, lighthouse of, ii. 41? 

Benares, college at, ii. 296. 

Bengal, domestic buildings of, ii. 299. 

Benoni, i. 126. 

Beresford-Hope, ii. 121, 124, 134, 163. 

Berlin, cathedral at, ii. 184. Church 

and theatre, view of, at, ii. 184. 
Schloss at, ii. 188. Brandenburg Thor 
at, ii. 189. Arsenal at, ii. 189. The 
public library at, ii. 189. University 
at, ii. 189. "Architecture of. ii. 200 
Werder Kirche at, ii. 202. Plan of 
luuseums at, ii. 204. View of new 
museum at, ii. 205. Theatre at, ii. 
205 ; dimensions of, ii. 387. Guard- 
house at, ii. 206. Buikliug-school at, 
fayade of, ii. 207. New Exchange at, 
ii. 208. Elegance of domestic build- 
ings in, ii 208. View of group of houses 
at, ii. 209. Palace of Count Puurtales 
at, ii. 209. Opera-house at, ii. 209; 
dimensions of, ii. 387, 394. Victoria 
Theatre at, jilan of, ii. 402. View of 
summer auditory of, ii. 403. Schin- 
kel's theatre at, i)lan, &c., of, ii. 404. 

Berlin, dii-elling-house, ii. 223. 

, parliament-house, ii. 224, 227. 

Berne, Federal Palace at, ii. 217. View 
of, ii. 218. 

Bernini, i. 82, 149, 271. 

Berruguete, i. 202. 

Birhenliead, hanh at, ii. 166. 

Biriiringham Law Courts, ii. 160. 

Birmingham, music-hall at, ii. 404. 

Blenheim Palace, plan of, i. 55. Lesser 
garden front of, i. 56. 

Blois, castle of, i. 252, 266. 

Blomtield, ii. 145, 156, 158, 168. 

Blouilel, i. -96. 

Blore, ii. 121, 127. 

Bodley, ii. 137, 158, 160. 

Bolsover House, ii. 16 

Bombay, domestic buildings of, ii. 298. 

Bordeaux, theatre at, ii. 377 ; dimen- 
sions of, ii. ;i93. Plan and fa(;;ul' of. 
ii. 395. Section of auditory of, ii. 396. 

Borghese Palace, Rome, fa9ade of, i. 148. 

Borromeo, San Carlo, Vienna, plan of 
church of, ii. 183. 

— — , Antwerp, church of,, ii. 232. 

Borromini, i. 93, 149 

Bosphorus, the Sultan's palace on, ii. 

Boston, Trinity Church, ii 359, 360. 

Botticelli, i. IS. 

Boulogne, new cathedral at, i. 45. Co- 
lonne de la Grande Armoe at, i. 295. 

Bourbon Palais, Paris, the, i. 278. ' Re- 
modelling of, i. 282. Old pavilion of, 
i. 283. 

Bourse, the, Paris, view of, i. 283. Posi- 
tion and ertect of, i. 284. 

, Lyons, view of, i. 290. 

, Marseilles, i. 290. 

, St. Petersburgh, ii. 272. 

Bow Church, Ijondon, steeple of, ii. 46. 

Bowman, ii. 184. 

Bradford Town Hall, ii. 146. 

Bradford, music-hall at, ii. 404. 

Braraante, i 69, 70, 76, 77, 82, 86, 138, 
139, 140, 165. 

Brandenburg Thor, Berlin, ii. 189. 
View of, ii. 189. 

Brandon, I)., ii. 139. 



Brandon, B., ii. 134. 
Bregno, Antonio, i. 126. 
Brera Palace, Milan, i. 16G. 
Bric-a-hrac Architecture, ii. 136, 137, 151, 

Brick Architecture, ii. 136. 
Bride's (8t.), London, steeple, &c., of 

church of, ii. 47. 
Bridgewater House, park front of, ii. 91. 
Brignola Palace (Little), Genoa, i. 161. 

View of, i. 161. 
Bristol Cathedral, ii. 149, 167. 
British Museum, London, plan of portico 

of, ii. 78. Facade of, ii. 79. 
Britton, John, ii. 100, 106. 
Broad Sanctuary, Westminster, ii. 133. 
Brodricl; ii. 136. 
Broletto Palace, Jlilan, i. 166. 
Brampton Oratory, ii. 158. 
Broohs, ii. 137, 155, 158, 168. 
Brosse, De, i. 262. 
Bruges, St. Anne's Church at, view of, 

ii. 233. 
Brunei, ii. 411. 
Brunelleschi, Filippo, i. 62-65, 82, 93, 

Brunswick, house at, i. 40. 
Brussels, Palais de Justice, ii. 245, 246. 
Brussels, architectural buildings of, ii. 

233. Koval palace at, ii. 233. 
Bryce, ii. 139, 164. 
Bultinch, C , ii. 330. 
BuUant, i. 296. 
Burg, the. Vienna, ii. 179. 
Burcjes, i. 306 ; ii. 128, 132, 137, 139, 142, 

144, 161. 165, 167. 
Burqes's House, chimnetj-piece in, ii. 150, 

-Burgognone, i. 71. 
Burleigh House, ii. 16 , 
Burlington House, ii. 59. 
Burlington House, ii. 150. 
Burn, ii. 121. 
Burton, ii. 121, 127. 
Burton, ii. 76. 
Bury, chateau de, near Blois, plan of, 

i. 251. View of, ii. 251. 
Butterfield, ii. 134,- 137, 163. 

Cabot, ii. 351. 

Caen Bernuulez, i. 179. 

Cairo, great mosque in citadel at, ii. 313, 

Caius College, Cambridge, Gate of 

Honour of, ii. 10. 
Calcutta, Government-house at, ii. 293. 

Town-hall at, ii. 293. Martiniere at, 

ii. 293. IVIetcalfe Hall at, ii. 293. 

External view of cathedral at, ii. 294. 

Interior view, ii. 295. The Fort 

church at, ii. 295. Houses of, ii. 298. 
California, house at Los Angelee, ii. 369, 

Calvary, New York, church of, ii. 341. 
Camhcru-eU Church, ii. 127. 
Cambridge, King's College Chapel at. 

i. 18. Caius College, Gate of Honour 

of, ii. 10. St. Peter's College at, ii. 

11. Clare College, court at, ii. 11. 

Trinity College, Neville's Court at, 

ii. 11, 51, 76. College of Downing at, 

ii. 76. Fitzwilliam Museum, front 

view of, at, ii. 80. 
Camerlinghi, Venice, end elevation. 

palace of, i. 106. 
Campbell, Colin, ii. 58. 
Canadian Architecture, ii. 170. 
Cancellaria, Rome, facade of palace of, 

i. 139. 
Capella, the, at Granada, i. 180. 
Capitals, bracket, examples in Spain. 

i. 197, 198. 
Capra, villa near \icenza, i. 153. View 

of, 154. 
Caprarola, near Eome, plan and view of 

palace of, i. 146. 
Carcel del Corte, Baeza, view of, i. 208. 
Carega Palace, Genoa, fa9ade of, i. 157. 
Carignano, Genoa, fa9ade of church of, 

i. 97. 
Carita, convent, de la, Venice, i. 133. 
Carlo Felice, Genoa, theatre at, dimen- 
sions of, ii. 387. 
Carlo (San), Milan, church of, i. 97. 

View of, i. 98. 
, theatre, Naples, the dimensions of, 

ii. 387, 389. 
Carlsruhe Theatre, the dimensions of, 

ii. 394. 
Carmelites, Ghent, church of, ii. 232. 
Carpenter's Gothic, ii. 127. 
Carr, ii. 67. 
Caserta, palace of the, Naples, i. 166. 

Fa9ade of, i. 167. 
Cathedrals, Latin, ii. 435, 436. 
Catherine (St.), St. Petersburgh, church 

of, ii. 258. 
Catholic and Apostolic Church, Blooms- 
bury, ii. 134. 
Certosa, Pavia, western facade of, i. 72, 

Chalgrin, M., i. 297. 
Chambers, Sir William, ii. 62. 
Chambord, chateau, plan of, i. 247. 

View of, i. 248. . Roof of, i. 249. 
Chandler, ii. 351. 

Chapelle expiatoire, Paris, i. 300. 
Charlemagne, ii. 274. 
Charlton House, ii. 16. 
Chateaux, France, architecture of, i. 246. 
Chelsea Hospital, ii. 50. 
Chenonceux, i. 252. 
Chepstow, tiibular bridge at, ii. 412. 
Chester, Dee bridge; at, dimensions, plan, 

AC, of, ii. 410, 411. 
Chiericate Palace, Vicenza, elevation of, 

i. 152. 
Chi.^wick, villa at, ii. 26, 27. 
Church Restoration, ii. 139, 142. 
Churrigurescjue style, the, i. 180. 
Chutter Munsil, Lucknow, ii. 302. 
Cimabue, i. 14. 

Cisneros, Card., i. 197. See Ximenes. 
City of London School, ii. 151. 




City of London Guilds Liditutc, ii. 160. 

City of London, ii. 137, 151. 

Clare College, Cambridge, court of, ii. 

Clarh-e Hall, Paisley, ii. 146. 
Classic and Gothic in contrast (xxii.), ii. 

166, 172. 
Claveri, ii. 183. 

Clothilde (St.), Paris, church of, i. 237. 
Clumber House, ii. 93. 
Cockerell, ii. 80, 86, 87. 
Cockerell, ii. 121, 122, 128. 

, F., ii. 139. 

Cole, ii. 406. 

Cole, ii. 125, 129, 131, 136, 137, 161. 

Collcutt, ii. 160. 

Colloredo Palazzo, Mantua, i. 153. 

Cologne, porch of Eatlihaus at, i 

Colonne de la Grande Arme'e, Boulogne, 

the, i. 295. 

de Juillet, Paris, the, i. 295, 296. 

Colonial {British) Architecture, ii. 170. 
Columns, in France, i. 295, 296. St. 

Petersburgh, Emperor Alexander, mo- 
nolithic column at, ii. 280. 
Colzean Castle, ii. 97. 
Common-Sense Style, ii. 116. 
Comparison of National Tastes, i. 170. 
Congdon, ii. 351. 

Congleton Town Hall, ii. 146, 166. 
Conservation of Ancient Buildings, i. 

Constantia, Lucknow, mansion of, ii. 301. 

View of, ii. 302. Tomb in, ii. 302. 
Constantinople, St. Sophia at, ii. 310. 

New Palace at, ii. 317. View of New 

Palace, ii. 318. Sulimanie Mosque, 

ii. 311. Mosque of Ahmed, ii. 311. 
Constitutional Club-house, ii. 160. 
Contini, J. B., i. 187. 
Continuity of Historical Architecture, i. 

Copenhagen, view, &c., of Exchange at, 

ii. 237. 
Copying in Architecture, ii. 120. 
Cornaro Palace (the original), Venice, 

i. 128, 129, 131. 
Cortile, the, introduction in English 

buildings, ii. 91. 
Cossins, ii. 146. 
Counterfeit, modern, i. 14. 

, English of the 19th century, i. 35. 

, the LndefensiV.e, i. 57. 

Country Architects, the, ii. 146. 
Courtj-ards, Genoese, in palaces, i. 161. 
Covent Garden Theatre, ii. 136. 
Criticism, cultivation of, i. 59. 
Criterion Restaurant, ii. 151. 
Cronaca, i. 119. 
Crossland, ii. 159. 
Crystal Palace, the, ii. 128. 
Crystal Palace, the, ii. 405. 

Dance, ii. 68. 

Dantzic, house at, ii. 210. 

Darmstadt, Opera-house, the dimensions 

of, ii. 387. 
Davis and Emanuel, ii. 151. 
Deane, ii. 134, 137. 
Decoration of St. PauTs, ii. 128. 
Decoration, Jesuit style of, i. 223. Louis 

Quatorze style of, "i. 279, 280. 
Delhi, pavilion at, ii. 304. Audience 

hall of Shah Jehan at, ii. H04. 
Denis (St.), Porte, Paris, arch of, i. 296, 

Denmark, round-arched Gothic style 

in, ii. 237. Architecture of, ii. 237- 

Diagrams of Latin Domes, ii. 433-437. 

of Music Hall by Saunders, ii. 407. 

Diaper, ii. 351. 

Digby Wyatt, ii. 121, 129, 132. 

Dijon, cathedral at, i. 215. Fa9ade of, 

i. 215. 

, Hotel Vogue, at, i. 256. 

Dogana Palace, Venice, i. 95, 134. 
Dom, Salzburg, ii. 185. 
Dome of St. Paul's, design of the, ii. 42. 
Domes, critical comparison of various, ii. 

Domes, Mediaeval, Italian Renaissance, 

copies of, i. 71. 

, Italy, in, i. 93, ii. 434. 

Domestic architecture in France, ex- 
amples of, i. 292-294. 
Domical churches in Italv, i. 93-98. 
Donaldson, ii. 121, 122, 127, 131. 
Dorchester House, ii. 128. 
Doria Tursi, Genoa, view of palace of, 

i. 158. 
Doulton's Factory, ii. 145. 
Draughtsmanship, ii. 132, 154, 168. 

, French and Engli.'th, li 166. 

Dresden, Liebfrauen Kirolie, at, ii. 181, 

182. Hof-Kirche at, ii. 183. Zwirner 

Palace at, ii. 187. Japanese Palace 

at, ii. 188. New theatre and picture 

gallery at, ii. 211. 
Du Cerceau, i. 217, 260, 262. 
The Duke's, first permanent theatre in 

London, ii. 377. 
Dulwicli College, ii. 142. 
Dunstan's (St.), in the East, London, 

church of, ii. 49. 
Duperac, i. 262. 
Durazzo Palazzo, Genoa, the, i. 158, 15&. 

View of, i. 156. 
Dutch Tombs, at Sural, ii. 290. 

Eastlahe, ii. 141. 

Eaton Hall, ii. 146. 

Ecclesiastical Art, dignity of, ii. 8. 

Ecclesiology, ii. 144. 

Eddystone, lighthouse of, ii. 412. 

Edinburgh, Heriot's Hospital, gateway 
at, ii. 16. College at, principal facade 
of, ii. G'l. Royal Institution at, ii. 84. 
New High-school at, ii. 85. York- 
place Cliapel at, ii. 105. Cathedral 
at, ii. 105. 



Edinburgh, St. Marij!<, ii. 142, 143, IGo. 

Edinburqlu Munkipal Buildings, ii. 159. 

Edis, ii.'ieo. 

Editorial Additions, (xiv.} 

Eglinton Castle, ii. 97. 

Eidlitz, ii. 351. 

Eindhoven, church at, ii. 247. 

Elizabethan and " Queen Anne," ii. 152. 

Elliot, ii. 97. 

Elmes, ii. 128. 

Elsinore, castle of, ii. 239. 

Emerson, ii. 306, 308. 

Ensjineerinsj, Civil, ii. 409-418. Mili- 
tary, 423-426. 

Engineering, architectural, ii. 419. 

England, Renaissance styles in, intro- 
duction to history of, ii. 1-5. Tran- 
sition style in, examples of, ii. 6-19. 

, Renaissance architecture of : — 

Inigo Jones, ii. 20-30. Wren, ii. 30- 
52. 18th century, ii. 53-69. Clas- 
sical Kevival in, ii. 70-94. Steps 
which led to Revival in, ii. 71. Gothic 
revival, ii. 96. Causes which led to, 
ii. 101. Advantages of Gothic style 
in, ii. 102. 

English Government, the, and the Archi- 
tc'ts, ii. 117. 

English Counterfeit, the, i. 35. 

English Taste, i. 171. 

Engravings, choice of additional, {xiv.) 

Entablature, placing of, over columns, 
ii. 61. Diagram, showing reversion 
of, ii. 61. 

Epoch of 1851, the (x/.), ii. 121, 125, 

Escurial, the, commencement of, i. 187. 
Plan of, i. 191. Bird's-eye view of, 
i. 192. Section through church and 
atrium of, i. 193. Courts of, i. 193, 
194. Church of, 194. Dimensions 
and materials of, i. 194, 195. 
Espinosa, Andrea, ii. 323. 
Etienne (St.), Paris, church and rood- 
screen of, i. 220. 
Europe, North-Western, Renaissance 
architecture of, ii. 229-244: — Belgium, 
ii. 229-234. Holland, ii. 235, 236. 
Denmark, ii. 237-239. Hamburg, 
ii. 240, 241. Sweden and Norway, ii. 
Eustache (St.), Paris, plan of church of, 

i. 219. Bay of, i. 220. 
Exchange, Royal, London, ii. 79. 
Exhibition, International, of 1851, the 

(xii.), ii. 124. 
Exeter Hall, London, ii. 404. 

Facades, Italian churches, their import- 
ance and treatment in, i. 72, 99-104. 

Fancelli, Luca, i. 118. 

Farnese Palace, Rome, plan of, i. 141. 
Front of, i. 142. 

Farnesina, near Rome, villa of, i. 140. 

Fenice Theatre, Venice, the dimensions 
of, ii. 387. 

Fergusson, ii. 121, 124, Memoir, xxvii. 

Fernan Cortes, ii. 321. 

Ferry, ii. 137. 

Ferstel, ii. 228. 

Fettes College, Edinburgh, ii. 139. 140, 

Filarete, i. 164. 

Finn Barr {St.), ii. 137. 

Fischer, Johann. ii. 183. 

Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, front 
view of, ii. 80. 

Flamboyant style in France, i. 214. 

Florence, San Lorenzo, at. i. 64. Santo 
Spirito, at, i. 63, 64. Secular Archi- 
tecture of, i. 116-125. Riccardi 
Palace at, i. 116-118. Pitti Palace 
at, i. 116-119. Strozzi Palace at. 
i. 119. Rucellai Palace at, i. 119. 
Gondi Palace at, i. 120. Guadagni 
Palace at, i. 123. Nicolini Palace at, 
i. 123. Pandolfini Palace at, i. 124. 
Bartolini Palace at, i. 124. 

Fontainebleau, palace at, i. 246. 

Fontana, Dominico, i. 82, 93, 149 ; ii. 

Fonthill Abbey, commencement, &c., of, 
ii. 97. View of, ii. 98. 

Forbes, Colonel, ii. 293. 

Forgery in Architecture, ii. 120. 

Forster, L., ii. 214. 

Fowke, Capt , ii. 406. 

Fou-he, ii. 139, 141. 

Fran -e, Renaissance Architecture, intro- 
duction into, i. 213. Gothic feeling 
in examples of, i. 214. 215. Eccle- 
siastical Architecture of, i. 219-237. 
Secular Renaissance Architecture, his- 
tory in eras of: — Era of Francis L, 
i. 240-257. Age of Henri C^uatre, 
i. 258-264. Louis Quatorze, i. 265- 
281. The period of the Empire, i. 
282-300. Chateaux of, i. 246. Do- 
mestic Architecture of, i. 292-294. 
Trophies and tombs of, i. 294-300. 
Francesc ■ (San), Rimini, view uf church 

of, i. 65. 
Frederick's Bau, Heidelberg, ii. 185. 
Fredericksborg, castle of, ii. 238. 
Free Classic, ii. 159. 
I Freemasons' Tavern, ii. 139. 
French Architecture under Napohon IIL, 

i. 305. 
French Taste, i. 170. 

and Hellenic colonization !, i. 314. 

French Decorative Artists and Architects, 

ii, 163. 
French and Italian Architecture com- 
pared, i. 215. 
Furrah BuKsh, Lucknow, the, ii. 302. 

Gabriel, i. 278 ; ii. 399. 

Gaillon, chateau, portion of facade ot, 

i. 260. 
Galilei, Alcssandro, i. 93. 
Gallo (San), Antonio, i. 78-82, 86, 95. 
Gartner, ii. 192. 



Gatt, Angelo, i. 46. 

Genevieve (St.) (or Pantheon), com- 
mencement and dimensions of church 
of, i. 229. Plan of, i. 230. Section of 
dome, i. 232. "West front of, i. 231. 
Internal arrangement, &c., i. 231-23'1. 
Library of, i. 289. 

Genoa, Carignauo church at, i. 97. Sta. 
Annunciata at, i. 107, 108. Archi- 
tecture, i. 156, 1G2. Palaces of, their 
merits and materials, i. 157. Tursi 
Doria, palace at, i. 158. Eoyal Palace 
(formerly Durazzo Marcello) at, i. 158, 
159. Carega Palace at, i. 159, 160. 
Sauli Palace at, i. 160. Palaces, their 
peculiarities in painting, and court- 
yards of, i. 160. Their position and 
effect, i. 161. Balbi Palace at, i. 161. 
Mari Palace at, i. 161. Little Brig- 
nola Palace at, i. 161. Carlo Felice 
Theatre at, ii. 387, 390. 

George, ii. 153, 160, 168. 

(leorge's (St.), Bloomsbury, London, 
church of, ii. 53. 

in the East, London, church of, ii. 


, Hall, Liverpool. Dimensions of, 

ii. 81. Plan of, ii. 82. View of, ii. 83. 

Germain-en-Laye (St.), palace of, i. 252. 

German Tade, i. 171. 

Germany : recent architecture, ii. 220. 

Germany, history of Renaissance Archi- 
tecture, introduction to, ii. 178, 179. 
Ecclesiastical Architecture of, ii. 180- 
185. vSecular Architecture of, ii. 185- 
189. Ecvival, ii. 191-219. 

Ghirlandajo, i. 18. 

Gianbattista, i. 188. 

Gibba, James, ii. 60. 

Giorgio, Francesco di, i. 120. 

Giotto, i. 14, 17, 62. 

Giovanni di Padua, ii. 6. 

Girardini, i. 278. 

Giraud Palazzo, Rome, i. 139. 

Giustina (Sta.), Padua, church of, i. 109. 

Glasgow, Assembly Rooms at, ii. 65. 
Roman Catholic Cathedral at, ii. 105. 

Gktsgow University, ii. 139. 

Glasgow Municipal Buildings, ii. 159. 

Glasgow Warehouse, ii. 169. 

Glenchalet, ii. 352. 

Glyptothek, Munich, the, view of, ii. 
i97. ; plan of, ii. 198. 

Goa, churches and cloisters at, ii. 286, 

Godwin, E., ii. 146, 166. 

Goldie, ii. 137, 164. 

Gondi Palace, Florence, i. 120. 

Gothic Architecture, Atdhor's apology, 
{xvii., xxi.) 

Government Offices Competition (^xxii.), 
ii. 134. 

Grace Church, New York, ornamentation 
and view of, ii. 340, 341. 

GrjBco-Romano style, the, i. 180. 

Gran, cathedral at, i. 47 

Granada, cathedral at, i. ISl : plan of, 
i. 181. Palace of Charles V. at. i. 203. 

Grange House the, ii. 83. View of, 11. 

Grec (Rite), St. Petersburgh, half-eleva- 
tion, half-section, church of, ii. 259. 

Greek Temple, criticcd development of, i. 

Greenwich, hospital at, ii. 28, 50. 

Grihhle, ii. 158. 

Griefswald, house in, i. 39. 

Griinani Palace, Venice, i. 41, 130. 

Grimthorpe, Lord, ii. 158. 

Grosvenor Hotel, ii. 136. 

Guadagni Palace, Florence, i. 123. 

Guarenghi, ii. 268, 272. 

Guarini, i. 166. 

Gumiel, Pedro, i. 196. 

Halifax Town Hall, ii. 95. 

Hamburg, Street and Domestic Archi- 
tecture of, ii. 239. Post-office at, ii. 
240. National Society's buildings at, 
ii. 240. Theatre, the dimensions of, 
ii. 394. 

Hamilton, ii. 85. 

Hampton Court, palace of, ii. 50. W(jl- 
sey's palace at, ii. 50. 

Hansen, ii. 228. 

Hardwich, ii. 121. 

Hardvvicke Hall, ii. 15. 

Harewood House, ii. 67. 

Harrington Gardens, Kensington, ii. 153, 

Harrison, ii. 410. 

Hatfield House, ii. 16. 

Have, Theodore, ii. 6. 

Hawksmoor, ii. 53. 

Heidelberg, castle at, ii. 185. 

Heriot's Hosi>ital, Edinburgh, gateway 
of, ii. 17. 

Herrera, Franc , i. 185. 

, Giovanni di, i. 179, 184, 190, 20... 

Hill, ii. 351. 

Hine, ii. 146. 

Historique Theatre, Paris, the dimen- 
sions of, ii. 394. Plan, &c., of, ii. 397. 

Hof-Kirche, Dresden, ii. 183. 

Holkham House, facade of, ii. 68. 

Holland, ii. 76. 

, Renaissance Architectural build- 
ings of, ii. 235. 

House, ii. 16. 

Holloimy College, ii. 159. 

Holt, Thomas, ii. 12. 

Holy Innocents' Church, ii. 155, 168. 

Hontanon, Rodrigo Gil, i. 181, 196. 

, Gil de, i. 181. 

Hotel Vogue, Dijon, window head of, 1. 

de Ville, Antwerp, ii. 230. Front 

elevation of, ii. 232. 

Hotels, Paris, external appearance, &c., 
and defects of, i. 276, 278. Hotel de 
Ville, i. 253. New buildings of, i. 288. 
Hotel de Rohan, i. 276. Hotel Soubise, 
i. 276. Hotel de Noailles, i. 277. 

Hunt, ii. 351, 355. 



Howard Castle, elevation of park-front 
of, ii. 57. 

Idelfonso (San), palaoe of, i. 20G. 

lUmt ration", i-hoirr t,f, (.vie.) 

Imitation and Counterfeit, i. 14. 

Imperial Listitiite, ii. 160. 

India, Renaissance Architecture, how in- 
troduced in, ii. 284, 285. By Portu- 
guese, ii. 285-287. The Spaniards, 
Dutch, and French, ii. 289-291. By 
Engli.-li, ii. 292-299. Native Renaiss- 
ance Architecture, ii. 300-305. Ex- 
amples of, ii. 300. 

India Office, ii. 139. 

India, recent architecture in, ii. 307. 

Indian Architecture, Native, i. 28. 

^'Induntried ArtSfthe" (xii.), ii. 132. 

Infanta, Zaragoza, court in the palace 
of, i. 201. 

Invalides Church, Paris, plan of dome of, 
i. 224. Sectionof dome, i. 225. Fa9ade 
of dome, i. 226. Dimensions of, i. 226. 
Crypt, cost of, i. 300. 

Inverary Castle, ii. 97. 

Iron Front, N^eio York, ii. 354. 

Isaac (St.) Church, St. Petersburgh, site 
and commencement of, ii. 260. Plan 
and dimensions of, ii. 261. North-east 
view of. ii. 262. Porticoes, &c., of, ii. 
263. Half section of dome of, ii. 264. 
Materials, internal arrangements, &c., 
of, ii. 264-266. 

Isidro (San) Chapel, Madrid, ornamenta- 
tion of, i. 186. 

Italian Church Architecture a failure'?, 
i. 112. 

Halian Taste, i. 170. 

Italian Style, modern, i. 169. 

Italiens Theatre, Paris, the dimensions 
of, ii. 394. 

Italy, recent architecture in, i. 172. 

Italy, Ecclesiastical Architecture of, i. 
62-112. Churches anterior to St. 
Peter's, i. 61-74. St. Peter's, i. 74-90. 
Churches subsequent to St. Peter's, i. 
90-93. Domical churches, i. 93-98. 
Basilican churches, exteriors, i. 99-104. 
Basilican churches, interiors, i. 104- 
112. Secular Architecture of, i. 114- 
169. Florence, i. 116-125. Venice,!. 
125-136. Rome, i. 136-150. Yicenza, 
i. 150-156. Genoa.!. 156-162. Man- 
tua, !, 162, 163. Milan, i. 163-166. 
Turin and Naples, i. 166, 167. 

I vara, i. 166, 204. 

Ivra, i. 97, 98. 

Jachson, !i. 157, 169. 
Jaen, capital of, cathedral at, i. 183. 
James's (St.) Church (Piicadilly), Lon- 
don, view of interior of, ii. 48. 

Music Hall, London, ii. 404. 

Jansen, ii. 16. 

Japanese Art, ii. 136, 153. 

Japanese Palace, Drcsilen, view of, ii 

Jeune, 1 e, i. 293. 
John's (St ) College, Oxford, garden 

front of, ii. 11. ' 

Jone^, If., ii. 139. 
Jones, O., ii. 121, 134. 
.Jones, Inigo, ii. 1, 6-30. 
Juan (San) de los Reyes, Toledo, i. 180. 
Junior Carlton Club house, ii. 139 
Junior United Service Club, ii. 136. 

Kaiser Bagh, Lucknow, ii. 302. 

Kasan, Our Lady of, St. Petersburgh, 
^ church of, ii. 257. Plan of, ii. 258, 

Keddlestone Hall, ground-plan and gar- 
den front of, ii. 66. 

Kennington, church at, ii. 73. 

Kensinqton, St Mary Abbott's, ii. 137. 

Kent, ii. 21, 59. 

King's College, Cambridge, cliapel of, 
i. 18. 

King's Cross Bailway Station, ii. 128. 

Kieft", churcli at, ii. 278. 

Ivittoe, Captain, ii. 296. 

Klenze, ii. 195, 210, 275. 

Klosterneuberg, convent of, ii. 215. 

Knowles, ii. 136. 

Kokorin, ii. 273. 

Kuttenburg, Genuan spire at, ii. 216. 

Lambton, castle of, ii. 97. 

Large Stone-xcorh and Stna'l, i. 120. 

Laterano, San Giovanni, Rome, diurch 

of, i. 92. Lateral porch of, i. 92. 

Fa9ade of, i. 93. 
Latrobe, B. H., ii. 330. 
Law Courts, London, ii. 126, 139, 140, 

145, 148, 166. 
Leeds Toion Hall, ii. 136 
Leeds, music hall at, ii. 404. 
Lemaire, i. 276. 
Lemercier, i. 262, 271. 
Leonardo da Vinci, i. 169. 
Leoni, Leone (otherwise Clievalier Are- 

tino), i. 166. 
Lescot, Pierre, i. 242. 
Levau, i. 267. 
Liebfrauen Kirche, Dresden, plan of, ii. 

181. View of, ii. 182. 
Lienau, ii. 351.. 
Lighthouse, Bellrock, ii. 412. 

Eddystone, ii. 412. 

Skerry vore, ii. 412. 

Lille Cathedral (Jompetition, i. 306. 
Liverpool, St George's Hall at, ii. 81-83. 

Music hall at, ii. 403. 
Liverpool, St. George's Hall, ii. 128, 165. 

Cathedral Competition, ii. 158. 

Living Arrhiterinrr and Lifeless, i. 49 
Locliicood and Maicson, ii. 146. 
London University, ii. 139. 
London School Board Offices, ii. 160 

Schools, ii. 160. 

London, Whitehall Palace at, Inigo 

Jones's designs for and diagrams of. 



ii. 21,22. Banquetine:-liouse at, i. 24. 
(Old) St. Paul's ( 'atlK'dial at, ii. 26, 30. 
St. Paul's at, plans, elevations, exterior, 
and internal arrangement of, ii. 31-42. 
St. Paul's (Covent Garden) at, ii. 25. 
Bow Church at, ii. 46. St. Bride's at, 
ii. 47. St. Stephen's, Walbrook, ii. 46. 
St. James's (Piccadilly) at, ii. 48. St. 
Dunstan's (in the East) at, ii. 49. St. 
Michael's (Cornhill) at, ii 49 Chelsea 
Hospital at, ii. 50. Monument at, ii. 
52. College of Physicians at, ii. 52. 
St. George's (Bloomsbury) at, ii. 53. 
St. George's (in the East) at, ii. 54. 
St. Mary (Woolnoth) at, ii. 54. 
Treasury Buildings at, ii. 59. St. 
Martin's (in tlie Fields) at, ii. GO. 
Somerset House at, ii. 64. Mansion 
House at, ii. 68. Newgate, ii. 69. St. 
Pancras new church at, ii. 73, 74. Bank 
of England at, ii. 75, 76. University 
Buildings, Burlington Gardens, ii. 86. 
University, Gower Street at, ii. 77. 
National Grallery at, ii. 77. British 
Museum at, ii. 78 Royal Eschanjj:e, 
ii. 79. College of Surgeons at, ii. 88. 
Travellers' Club at, ii. 89. Reform 
C^lub at, ii. 89, 90. Parliament Houses 
at, ii. 92, 94, 107-113. St. Luke's, 
Chelsea, ii. 105, 106. The Duke's, 
first permanent theatre at, ii. 377. 
Opera House at, ii 378, 387, 390. 
Covent Garden Theatre at, ii. 378, 
387. Dmry Lane Theatre at, ii. 378, 
394, 399. Lyceum Theatre at, ii. 394. 
Adelphi Theatre at, ii. 394. Exeter 
Hall at, ii. 404. St. James's Hall at, 
ii. 404. St. Martin's Hall at, ii. 404. 
London 15ridge at, ii. 411. Waterloo 
Bridge at, ii. 411. King's Cross Rail- 
way Station at, ii. 413-415. West- 
minster Hall at, ii. 413. St. Pancras 
Railway Station, ii. 416. 

Longford Castle, ii. 15. 

Longhena, Baldassare, i. 94, 126. 

Longleat House, plan of, ii. 12. Eleva- 
tion of part of, ii. 13. 

Lonja, the Barcelona at, i. 206 — at 
Seville, i. 206. 

San Lorenzo, Florence, Church of, i. 64. 

Lorme, Philibert de, i. 258, 260. 

Los Angeles, house at, ii. 369, 374. 

Ijoudon Castle, ii. 97. 

Louis Victor, ii. 377, 395. 

St. Louis and St. Paul, Paris, fa9:ide of 
cliurcli of, i. 221. Commencement, 
&c., of, i. 222. 

Louvre, Paris, the rebuilding of, i. 242. 
Plan of, i. 243. Part of court, i. 244, 
245. Part of gallery of, i. 261. 
Completion of, i. 271. Eastern facade 
and plan of fa9ade of. i. 272. Central 
compartment, northern facade of, i. 273. 
View of angle of the Cour Napoleon 
of, i. 286. 

Lowther Castle, ii. 97. 

Loivther Lodge, ii. 153, 168. 

Lucknow, Constantia mansion at, ii. 301, 

302. The Furrah Buksh at, ii. 302. 
Chutter Munsil at, ii. 302. Kaiser 
Bagh at, ii. 302. Begum Kotie at, ii. 

303. Martiniere at, ii. 302. 
Luck)iow, Canning College, ii. 308, 309. 
Ludovico, i. 209. 

Ludwig (St.), Munich, church of, ii. 192. 

Luine, A., i. 294. 

Luke's (St.) (Chelsea), London, church 

of, ii. 105. West front of, ii. 106. 
Lund University, ii. 247, 248. 
Lunghi, Martino (the elder), i. 148. 
Lupiana, cloistered court in monastery 

of, i. 200. 
Luxembourg Palace, Paris, plan of, i. 262. 

Additions to and elevation of, i. 263. 
Lyceum Theatre, London, the dimensions 

of, ii. 394. 
Lynn, ii. 146. 
Lyons, new Bourse at, i. 290. Theatre 

at, ii. 377. Dimensions of, ii. 394, 397. 

Plan of, ii. 397. 

Macao, Jesuits' church at, facade of, ii. 

Machuca, i. 202. 
Madama Villa, Rome, i. 143. 
Madeleine, Paris, church of, i. 235. 

Plan of, i. 235. 
Maderno, Carlo, i. 82, 149. 
Madras, domestic buildings of, ii. 301. 
Madrid, San Isidro, chapel at, i. 186. 

Royal Palace at, i. 204, 205. Museo 

at, i. 207. Theatre at, dimensions of, 

ii. 387. 

chateau of, Paris, i. 2+9. 250. 

Mafra, convent at. i. 209. View of, i. 210. 
Maggiore, San Giorgio, Venice, plan of 
_ church of, i. 102. Interior of, i 106. 
Maisons (near Paris), chateau de, i. 275. 
Majano, diiuliano de, i. 137. 
Malaga, Puerta de las Cadenas, cathe- 
dral of, i. 185. 
Malta, Mousta Church in, i. 46. 47, 48. 
Manchester, music hall at, ii. 404. 
Manrhcster Assize Courts, ii. 139. 
Maneliester Town Hall, ii. 139, 141, 146, 

Mansard, Frangois, i. 223, 267, 271, 274, 


, Jules Hardouin, 1. 224, 267, 278. 

jMansion House, London, ii. 68. 

Mant, ii. 307, 308. 

Mantua, Church, St. Andrea at. i. 66. 67. 

St. Sebastian at, i. 68. Palazzo del 

Te' at, i. 162, 163. Palazzo Colloredo 

ai, i. 164. 
Mari Palace, Genoa, i. 161. 
Maria (Sta.), Zobenico, Facade, i. 105. 
Maria (Sta.), Milan, church of, i. 69, 70. 

View of, i. 72. 
Mark (St.), Venice, Library of, 1. 131. 

End elevation of, i. 132. 
Marot, i. 271. 
Marseilles, New Exchange at, i. 290. 

Arch at, i. 296. Theatre at, ii. 394. 



Marseilles, School of Art, i. 311, 312. 

Martin, General, ii. 301. 

, Porte St., Paris, arch of, i. 296. 

Martin's (St.), London, music hall of, 
ii. 403. 

(in the Fields), London, interior 

view of church of, ii. 60. 

Mary's (St.) (Woolnoth), London, church 
of, ii. 54. 

Massimi, Pietro Palace, Rome, i. 140. 

, Anu-elo Palace. Rome, i. 140. 

Mason s College, Birminqham, ii. 146. 

Maximilhin Strassc, :Muuicli, ii. 201. 

Mayence. theatre at, dimensions of. ii. 
394. Plan and section and arrange- 
ment of, ii. 400. 

Me Arthur, ii. 351. 

McCarthy, ii. 137. 

McGHI University, ii. 170, 171. 

McLaughlin, ii. 351. 

Melhourne I'arliament House, ii. 172, 173. 

Melbourne R C. Cathedral, ii. 174, 177. 

Menai Strait, tubular and suspension 
bridges at, ii. 411. 

Merced, convent of Na. Sa. de la, ii. 323. 

Mercier, Le, i. 223. 

Meudon, palace at, i. 274. Garden front 
of, i. 274. 

Mexico, cathedral, site and commence- 
ment of, ii. 321. External view of, ii. 
321. View of side-aisle in, ii. 322. 
Cloisters of monastic establishments 
at, ii. 323. 

Michaeloft'sky Palace, the, at St. Peters- 
burgh, ii. 269. 

Michael's (St.) (Cornhill), London, 
church of, ii. 49. 

Michael's (St ), Munich, church, plan, 
and section of, ii. 180. 

Michele (San), i. 126. 130. ; ii. 423. 

Miehelozzo, i. 116, 118. 

Michigan, church at Ann-Arbor, ii. 365. 

Milan, Santa Maria delle Grazie at i. 69- 
71. San Carlo at, i. 97. Architectural 
magnificence, deficiency of examjiles 
at, i. 164. Ospidale Grande at, i. 164, 
165. Palace Casa Rotta at, i. 166. 
Brera Palace at, i. 166. Broletto 
Palace at, i. 166. The Scala Theatre 
at, ii. 377, 387, 388. 

Milan, Victor Emanuel Gallery, i. 176. 

'■'Minor Arts, the" {xii.), ii. 126, 137, 
143. 160, 163. 

Minore (San Simone), Venice, church of, 
i. 94. 

Modern European Style, the, 1. 9 ; ii. 117, 

Modern Italian Style, the, i. 169. 

Modlin, granary at, ii. 425. Central com- 
partment and facade of, ii. 426. 

Molk, church at, ii. 185. Convent at, 
ii. 215. 

Mollen, Dr., ii. 401. 

Monaghan Cathedral, ii. 137. 

Montferrand, Chevalier de, ii. 260-266, 

Montmartre, Church of the Sacred Heart, 
i. 306. 

Montorio (San Pietro), Rome, church of, 
i. 71. 

Monument, the London, ii. 52. 

Morris, ii. 158. 

Moscow, Riding-liouso at, span of roof 
of. ii. 274. Tlicatre at, ii. 390. So- 
called churches, ii, 253. 

Mou'd ii. 351. 

]Mousta Church, Malta, plan and section 
of. i. 46. View of, i. 48. 

Midler, ii. 180. 

Munich, church of St. Michael at, ii. 180. 
Cathedral at, ii. 185. Ecclesiastical 
Architecture of, ii. 192. St. Ludwig 
at, ii. 192. The Aue Kirehe at. ii. 193. 
Basilica at, ii. 193. Th(> Wallialla at, 
ii. 195, 196. Ruhmes-lmlle at, ii. 197. 
Secular Architecture of, li. 197. Glvp- 
tothck at, ii. 197, 198. The Pinacothe'-. 
at. ii. 198. 199. Roval Palace at, ii. 
200. Public Library at ii. 200. Tlie 
University, the Blind School, War 
Office, and palace of Prince Lichten- 
stein at, ii. 200. Theatre at, ii. 387. 
Plan and external appearance of. ii. 

Museo, Madrid, the view of, i. 207. 

Music halls in England, ii. 404-407. 

Naples. Caserta, Palace at i. 166. 167. 

San Carlo Theatre at. ii. 387, 389. 
Napoleon's tomb at Paris, i. 300. 
Nash, ii. 76, 100. 
Nash, ii. 127. 

National Gallery, London, ii. 77. 
National Liberal Club-house, ii. 160. 
National Taste : Itidian, French, English, 

American, i. 170. 
National Gallery, Edinburgh, ii. 136. 

Competition, ii. 139. 

Ndural History Museum, ii. 141, 145. 

Nauvoo, Mormon Temple at, ii. 341. 

Nelson, ii. 136. 

Neo-Grec, i. 304. 

Newcastle, fa§ade of railwav station at, 

ii. 417. 
Newgate Prison, front elevation of. ii 69. 
Newski (St. Alexander), St Petersburgh, 

monastery and church of, ii. 255. 
New York, Trinity Cliurch, ii. 351. 

, h-on Front, ii. 354. 

, R. C. Cathedral, ii. 362. 

, St. James's Church, ii. 363. 

, Methodist Church, ii. 364. 

, Ames Building, ii. 368, 374. 

New York, Grace Church at,ii. 340. .341. 

Calvary Church at, ii. 341. Holy 

Redeemer Church at, ii. 341. 
Neiv Zealand Architecture, ii. 171. 
New Zealand Chambers, ii. 151. 
Nicholai Church, Potsdam, view of, ii. 

Nicholas (St.), St, Petersburgh, plan of 

church, ii. 257. 
Nicolini Palace, Florence, i. 123. 
Nieuwe Kerck, Amsterdam, ii. 236. 



Nineteenth-cfntury-phobia, (xi.) 
Noailles. hotel de, at Paris, i 277. 
Nonconformist Chapels, ii. 144, 158. 
Ncrman-Shaw, ii. 132, 136, 141, 151, 152, 

156, 160, 168. 
North- Western Europe, recent architecture 

m,ni. 245. 
Norwood, church at, ii. 73. 
Notre Dame de la Bonne Seconr. Kouon, 

i. 237. 
Novosielski, ii. 378. 

Ohio, State Capitol of, ii 339 

Olympic© Theatre, Vicenza, ii. 375. 

Orders, the, Italy, their treatment in, 
(xvii.) i. 102-104. How originally 
used in Greece, i. 105. 

Orleans, house of Agnes Sorel at, i. 255. 

Ospidale Grande at Milan, i. 164, 165. 

Ossoli Palace, Rome, i. 140. 

Ottaioa, Parliamentary Library, ii. 170. 

Oude Kerck, Amsterdam, ii. 236. 

Ouen (St.), Rouen, church of, i. 238. 

Oxford, St. John's College, front of, ii. II. 
Gateway of schools, ii. 12. Sheldonian 
Theatre at, ii. 30, 50. Radcliffe Li- 
brary at, ii. 61, 62. New Museum at, 
ii. li3. All Souls' College at, ii. 53. 
Taylor and Randolph Institute at, 
ii. 87. 

Oxford Museum, ii. 134. 

■ , the Schools, ii. 157, 169. 

Vaddington Railway Station, ii. 134. 

Padua, Arena Chapel at, i. 16, 17. 
Cathedral at, i. 109. Church of Sta. 
Giustina at, i. 109. Hall at, ii. 413. 

, John of, ii. 13. 

Pagodas, Tanjore, of, ii. 300. 

Painting, Italy, pre-eminence in, i. 16. 
Renaissance age, art par excellence of, 
i 73. 

Palaces, so-called, of Venice, i. 137. 

Palais de Justice, Paris, i. 307. 

Palladio, i. 42, 43, 102, 103, 126, 133, 144, 
145, 150, 155, 157, 163; ii. 1. 

Palma Palace, Rome, i. 143. 

Pancras (St.), London, new church of, ii. 
83. West elevation of, ii. 74. Rail- 
way Station, ii. 416. 

Pandolfini Palace, Florence, i. 124. 

Paris, church of St. Eustache, at, i. 219, 
220. St. Etienne at, i. 220. St. Paul 
and St. Louis at, i. 221, 222. Sorbonne 
at^ i. 223. Invalides Church at, i. 224- 
227. St. Sulpice at, i. 227, 228. St. 
Genevieve at, i. 229-234. Madeleine 
at, i 235. Basilican Church St. Vin- 
cent de Paul at, i. 236. Church of la 
Trinite at, i 236. Church of St. 
Augustin, i 237. St. Clothilde at, i. 
237. T>ouvre Palace at, i. 242-246. 
Pavilion de I'Horloge at, i. 244 
Chateau Madrid at, i. 249, 250. Hotel 

de Ville, i. 253. The Tuileries at, i. 
258-260. Pavilion Flore of the Tuile- 
ries at, i. 261, 287. Luxembourg Palace- 
at, i. 262, 264. Louvre Palace at, i. 
271-274. Chateau de Maisons near^ 
i. 275. Hotels, street fronts of, i. 276. 
HAtel Soubise at, i. 276. Hotel de 
Rohan at, i. 276. Hotel de Noaillea 
at, i. 277. The Great Trianon Palace 
at, i. 278. Arrangement of houses in, 
i. 278. Palais Bourbon at, i. 278. Old 
Pavilion of, i. 283. The Bourse at, i, 
283, 284. Street architecture of, i. 284. 

285. Louvre, new buildings of, i. 285, 

286. Librarv of St. Genevieve at, i. 
289. House 'Rue Soufflot at, i. 292. 
House Rue des Saussaies at, i. 293. 
House Rue Navarin at, i. 294. Colonne 
de Juillet at, i. 295, 296. Arch of 
Tuileries at, i. 296. Arch Porte St. 
Denis at, i. 296, 297. Arch Porte St. 
Martin at, i. 296. Arc de I'Etoile, i. 
297, 298. Entrance to the Ecole Poly- 
technique at, i. 299. New Russian 
Church, view of, at, ii. 279. Hotel 
de Burgogne, theatre at, ii. 377. Palais 
Royal, theatre at, ii. 377. Dimensions 
&c.". New Opera House, ii. 387, 392, 393, 
407. Dimensions Acade'raie de Musique 
at, ii. 387 ; plan and section of, ii. 391, 
392. The theatre at, ii. 392. Theatre 
Historique at, ii. 394, 397. Theatre 
Italiens at, ii. 394. Strasbourg Rail- 
way Station at, ii. 416. 

Paris, artistic public opinion in, ii. 371. 

, Opera House, i. 307. 

, Palais de Justice, i. 307. 

, Hotel de Ville, i. 307, 308. 

, Faculty of Medicine, i. 309 

, National Library, i. 310. 

Parker, ii. 121, 124. 

Parliament Houses, London, ii. 92, 96, 
107. Plan of, ii. 108. Hiver front of, 
ii. 109. Victoria Tower, &c., ii. 110; 
Frontispiece Vol. II. 

Parliament Houses : Berlin, ii. 224, 227. 

, London, ii. 126, 165, 357. 

, Ottaiva, ii. 170, 172. 

, Melbourne, ii. 172, 173. 

, Sydney, ii 172, 175. 

Parma, Opera-house at, dimensions of, 
ii. 387, 390. 

Paul's (St.), Rome, Old Basilica of, i. 91, 

, Vincent de, Paris, Basilican Church 

of, i. 237. 

, Covent Garden, London, east ele- 
vation of, ii. 25. 

(Old), London, repairs to, &c., ii. 26, 


, London, plan as originally designed, 

ii. 31. (Side elevation of, ii. 32. Plan 
of present cathedral, ii. 36. Half 
elevation of dome, ii. 37. Whispering 
gallery, &c., and exterior and internal 
arrangement, ii. 38-42. West view of, 
ii. 41. 

Paulo (San) fuori la Mura, i. 110. 



PauVs (St.), London, ii. 42, 128, 158. 

Pavia, Certosa, near, i. 71, 72, 78. 

Paxton, Sir Joseph, ii. 420. 

Paxton, ii. 129. 

Peabody, ii. 351. 

Peacock, ii. 137. 

Pearmi, ii. 137, 158. 

Peddie and Kinneur, ii. 139. 

Pelegreni, Verona, fragment from the 
chapel of, i. 24. 

Penwthorne, ii. 121, 127, 133, 139, 150. 

Pennethorne, Sir James, ii. SO. 

Perrault, i. 271. 

Perugino. i. 18. 

Peruzzi. Baldassare, i. 78, 79, 140. ii. 378. 

Pesaro Palace, Venice, i. 134, 135. 

Pesth, Jews' Synagogue at, ii. 214. 

Peter's (St.), Rome, Old Basilica of, i. 74. 

, Rome, plan as proposed by Bra- 

mante, i. 7(5. By San Gallo, i. 77. 
East front, San Gallo's design, i. 79. 
Arrangement of aisles, ditto, i. 80. 
Plan as it now exists, i. 81. Western 
apse, i. 83. East front, i. 84. Dome 
of, i. 85. Section of, i. 88. Frontis- 
piece, Vol. I. IMaterials and decorations 
of, i. 82. Atrium of, i 8(1. 

Feter's (St.), a failure ?, i. 90. 

, Camln-idge, college of, ii. 11. 

, Vau.rhall, ii. 137. 

Peterborough Cathedral, ii. 81. 

Petereburgh (St.), church in the citadel 
at, ii. 253, 254. Smolnoy, monastery 
and church at, ii. 253, 256. St. Alex- 
ander Newski, monastery at, ii. 255. 
St. Nicholas at, ii. 255, 257. Our Lady 
of Kasan, ii. 257, 258. Du Rite Grec 
at, ii. 259. St. Catherine's at, ii. 258. 
Zamiene at, ii. 259. St. Isaac at, ii. 
260-266. Secular Architecture of, ii. 
267. Palaces of, ii. 267. Winter Palace 
at, ii. 267. Tauride Palace at, ii. 268. 
Hermitage Palace at, ii. 268. Arch- 
duke Michael's Palace at, ii. 268, 269, 
270. Admiralty at, ii. 270, 271. The 
Bourse at, ii. 271. Etat Major at, ii. 
273. Institutions des Demoiselles 
Nobles and Military Orphans at, ii. 
273. Barracks at, ii. 273. Academy 
■of Beaux Arts at, ii. 273. The Library 
at, ii. 273. Medical School at, ii 273. 
Riding-houses at. ii. 273. The Bank 
at, ii. 274. Foreign OflSce at. ii. 274. 
War Office at, ii. 274. New Museum 
at, ii. 275-278. Statue of Peter the 
Great at, ii. 280. Emperor Alexander 
column at, ii. 280. Opera-house at, ii. 
387, 390. Alexander Theatre at, ii. 
387. 390. 
Tetif, ii. 124, 132. 

Philadelphia, Girard College at, ii. 338. 
Bank at, ii. 339. Exchange at, ii. 339. 

Physicians. College of, London, ii. 52. 
Piccolomini Palace, Sienna, ii. 120. 

Piermarini, ii. 377, 387. 

Pilar del Zaragoza, cathedral, plan of, 
i. 187. View of, i. 188. 

Pilaster ornaments, ii 17 

Pinacothek, Munich, half section of, ii. 

Pintelli, Baccio, i. 17, 137. 
Piracy in Architecture, ii. 120. 
Pitti Palace, Florence, cornice of, i. 

Place des Victoires, i. 278. 

, de Vendome, i. 278. 

Plateresco, the, or Silversmiths' style, 

i. 180. 
Play/air, ii. 136. 
Play fair, ii. V)G. 
Plymouth Guildhall,_ii. 146. 
Polytechniquo, the Ecolc, Paris, entrance 

arch of, i. 299. 
Ponte, Antonio da, i. 134. 
Ponz, i. 179. 

Popularising of Art, the, (xii.) 
Porta, Giacomo della, i. 148 ; ii. 273. 
Portsea, St. Mary's Church, ii. 156, 168. 
Portugal, Architecture of, i. 209-211. 
Post, ii. 351. 

Post Office, London, New, ii. 151. 
Potsdam, palace at, ii. 189. Nicholai 

Church at, ii. 202. 
Potter, ii. 351. 
Poyet, i. 282. 

Prague, German spire at, ii. 216. 
Precedents, right use of in style, ii. 119. 
Primatticcio, i. 246. 
Prince Consort, the, ii. 125, 129, 131, 136, 

Procuratie Vecchie, palace of the, 

Venice, i. 128. 
Professional Architect, the, (xxiv.) i. 32 ; 

ii. 7. 
Prudential Assurance Office, ii. 145. 
Pryce, ii. 351. 
Pugi7i, ii. 121, 122, 126, 130, 132, 134, 

Pugin (the elder), ii. 100, 101 
(the younger), ii. 101, 102, 105. 

Queen Anne Style, i. 58 ; ii. 126, 137, 151, 
152, 154, 159, 160, 168, 358. 

Radclifte Library, Oxford, ii. 61. View 

of, ii. 62. 
Ransome's Artificial Stone, ii. 142. 
Raphael, i. 18,'23, 77, 78, 79, 82, 124, 138, 

Rastrclli, ii. 253, 268. 
Recent Architecture in Amerci, ii. 313, 

in England, ii. 121. 

in France, i. 303. 

in Germany, ii. 220. 

in Itidy, i. 172. 

in N. 11'. Europe, ii. 245. 

in Russia, ii. 282. 

. in Spain and rurfuijal, i. 212. 

Record Office, London, ii. 133. 
Redentore, Venice, view of church of, i. 

101. Plan of. i. 106. 
Reform Club. London, the, ii. 89, 90 
2 (i 



Begent Square Scotch Church, London, i. 

Beliciions Art, dignify of, ii. 8. 

Renaissance, the typical forms, earliest 
instance of use of, i. 05. Styles of 
Italy and France coinpared, i. iJOU, 301. 

Henaissnnce, in England, ii. 5. 

, the wrench at the, i. 114. 

Renaldi, ii. 260. 

Bemcich, ii. 351. 

Bestoration, French and English, i. 238. 

, Anti; i. 238; ii. 158. 

Kezzonico Palace, Venice, i. 134. 

Eiccardi Palace, Florence, i. 110. Facade 
and section of, i. 118, 11 'J. 

Bichardsov, ii 351, 357, 373. 

Richini, i. 105. 

Rickman, ii. 100, 106 

Rimini, St. Francesco at, i. 65. 

Bobertson, ii. 351. 

Bohson, ii. 160. 

Bochead, ii. 137. 

Bococo Benaissance, ii. 151. 

Rohan, Hotel de, at Paris, i. 276. 

Boman Catholic Churches, ii. 147, 158 

Romano, Giulio, i. 143, 102, 163. 

, Collegio, Rome, the, i. 148. 

Rome, Sistine Chapel at, i. 17. San Gio- 
vanni Laterano, church at, i. 90-93, 
149. St. Paul's, old basilica of, i. 90, 
109, 110. Architectural history of, i. 
137. Deficiency in civil and domestic 
architecture, i. 137. Belvedere Court 
of Vatican at. i. 138. I.oggie Court of 
Vatican at, i. 138. Giraud Palazzo at, 
i. 139. Cancellaria Palazzo at, i. 139. 
Farnesina Villa near, i. 140. Farnese 
Palace at, i. 140-142. Pietro Massiraa 
Palace at, i. 140. Angelo Massimi 
Palace at, i. 140. Ossoli Palace at, 
i. 140. PalmaPalaceat, i. 143. Sach- 
etti Palace at, i. 143. Astylar and 
arcaded styles prevalent in, i. 142. 
Villa Madama at, i. 143. Museum in 
Capitol at, i. 143. Palace of the Con- 
servatori, i. 143. Pope Julius' Villa 
at, i. 145. Caprarola Palace near, i. 
147. Collegio della Sapienza at, i. 
147, 148. Collegio Romano at, i. 148. 
Borghese Palace at, i. 1 48. Barberini 
Palace at, i. 149. Tordinoni Theatre 
at, ii. 377. 

Bome, Fine Art Galleries, i. 174. 

, building in the Corso, i. 175. 

Roofs, curvilinear, i. 100. 

Roselini, i. 74. 

Roselli, i. IS. 

Rossi, i. 246, ii. 273 

Rotta, Casa, palace, Milan, i. 166. 

Rouen, St. Ouen, Church at, i. 237. Car- 
dinal d'Amboise's tomb at, i. 257. 
New custom-house at, i. 291. 

Bouen, Church of Ste Hilaire, i. 311, 313. 

Boyal Academy facade, London, ii. 151. 

Royal Exchange, the, London, ii. 79. 

Rucellai Palace, Florence, i. 120, 122. 

Ruhmes-hallc, Munich, view of, ii. 197. 

Buslrin, 121, 123, 130. 

Russia, introduction to history of Archi- 
tecture in, ii. 249-253. Ecclesiastical 
. Architecture of, ii. 253-266. Secular 
Architecture of, ii. 207-281. 

Bussia, recent Architecture in, ii. 282. 

Sachetti Palace, Rome, i. 143. 
SagrafRtti, decoration, mode of, i. 123. 
Salamanca, cathedral at, i. ISO. 
Saltash, tubular bridge at, ii. 412. 
Salute, Santa Maria delle, Venice, plan 

of church of, i. 94. View of, i. 90. 
Salzburg, Dom church at, ii. 185. 
Sangallo, Antonio, i. 78-82, 80. 

, Giuliano da, i. 120, 138, 140, 143. 

San Rocca, i. 120. 
Sansovino, i. 126, 131, 138, 143. 
Santiago, cathedral at, i. 188. 
Sapienza, Collegio della, Rome, fa(,'ade 

of, i. 147. 
Saracenic style, the, ii. 290. 
Santi Palace, Genoa, i. 100. 
Scala Theatre, Milan, ii. 377. Dimen- 
sions of, ii. 387. Plan and fa(,-ade of,^ 

ii. 388. 
Scamozzi, i. 120, 133. 
Scarpagnino, i. 126. 
Scepticism, Architectural, ii. 373. 
Schmidt, ii. 228. 

Schinkel, ii. 202, 204-207, 402-404, 415. 
Schloss, Berlin, the, ii. 188. 
Schcinbrunn, palace at, ii. 188. 
Scotch Kirhs, ii. 144. 
Scotch Architecture, ii. 104. 
Scott, ii. 121, 127, 131, 136, 137, 139, 

142, 161, 165, 166. 

, General, ii. 139. 

Scott, General, ii. 400. 

Scott-Russell, ii. 423. 

Screen-work in French churches, i. 257. 

Screen-ivorh Facades, i. 105. 

Scutari, mosque of Selim at, ii. 312. 

Sebastian (St.), Mantua, church of, i. OS, 

Secidar Gothic, ii. 127, 137, 139, 145, 

146, 150, 151, 154, 100, 107, 173, 228, 

Seddon, ii. 137, 100. 
Segovia, cathedral at, i. 181. 
Sens, Episcopal palace at, bay of, i. 254. 
Seo, Zaragoza, cathedral of, i. ISOv 

Cinquecento tower of, i. 187. 
Serlio, i. 240 ; ii. 375. 
Servandoni, i. 227, 228. 
Sforza, Francesco, i. 104. 
Sgru^to, ii. 137. 
Sharpe, ii. 122. 

Sheldonian Theatre, Oxford, ii. 30, 50. 
Sienna, Piccolomini Palace at, i. 120. 

Spannocchi Palace at, i. 120. 
Signorelli, i. 18. 
Siloe, Diego de, i. 181. 
Sion College, ii. 145. 
Sistine Chapel, the, Rome, i. 17. 
Sketching, ii. 133. 
Skerry vore liighthouse, ii. 412. 
Skirlaw, Bishop, chapel of, ii. 105. 



Slater, ii. 137. 

Small stone-irork, i. 120. 

Smirk€,n. 121,127, 151. 

Smirke, Sir Kobort, ii. 78, 378. 

Smithfield Markets, ii. 139. 

Sraitbson, ii. 13, 14. 

Smolnoy, near St. Petersburg:!!, monas- 
tery and church of, ii. 253, 25G. 

Sonne, ii. 127. 

Soane, Sir John, ii. 71, 91. 

Socialistic Principle for Art, i. 32. 

Solario, ii. 185. 

Soler, Juan, i. 20G. 

Somerset house, London, ii. 63. Southern 
fa9ade, north portion of, ii. 63. 

Somerset House, addition to, ii. 150. 

Sophia (St.), Constantinople, church of, 
ii. 310. 

Sorbonnc, Paris, church of, i. 223. 

Sorel, Asfnes. Orleans, house of, i. 255. 

Soubisc Hotel, fa9ade of, i. 27(i. 

Soufflot, i. 229. 

Spain, Moorish remains in. i. 178. 
Mediajval antiquities of, i. 178. Three 
epochs of art in, i. 179, 180. Ecclesias- 
tical Architecture of, i. 180-197. 
Secular Architecture of, i. 197-209. 
Exuberance of style in, i. 197, 202, 203. 

Spannocchi Palace, Sienna, i. 120. 

Spires of northern Gothic chiu'ches, i. 98. 

Santo Spirito, Florence, plan of church 
of, i. 63. Section of, i. 61. 

Staroff, ii. 255. 

Statue of Peter the Great, St. Peters- 
burgh, ii. 280. 

Stej^hen's (St ), Ktmsington, ii. 137. 

Stephen's (St.), Walbrook, London, 
church, plan and section of, interior 
of, i. 46, 47. 

■'Stevenson, ii. 160. 

S*^ockholm, palace at, ii. 242. Plan of, 
ii. 243. View of, ii. 244. 

Strawberry Hill, mansion of, ii. 96, 97. 

Street Architecture, Paris, of, 1. 284, 

Street, i. 306; ii. 132, 133, 136, 137, 140, 
142, 144, 145, 149, 165, 166, 167, 168. 

Strozzi Palace, Florence, i. 119. 

Stuart, ii. 71. 

Stiller, ii. 204. 

Sueur, Le, 1. 288. 

Sufflot, ii. 377, 397. 

Sulpice (St.), Paris, church of, i. 227. 
Facade of, i. 228. Plan of porch of, 
i. 228. 

Superga, Turin, church of, i. 97. 

Surgeons' College, London, fa(;a(le of, ii. 

Sydney Parliament Home, ii. 174, 175, 
■ 177. 

, Warehouse, ii. 176, 177. 

Synagogue, Jews', Pesth, ii. 214. View 
of, ii. 214. 

Tanjore, pagodas at, ii. 300. 

Tauride Palace, St. Petersburgh, ii. 269 

Taylor and Randolph Institute, Oxford, 
ii. 87. 

Taylor, Robert, ii. 68. 

TV, palazzo del, Mantua, i. 162, 163. 

Telford and Stephensim, ii. 411. 

Temanza, i. 126. 

Temple Newsam, ii. 15. 

Temple Gardens Chambers, ii. 151. 

Temple Library, ii. 134. 

Tcrra-cotta, ii. 136, 137, 142, 145, 160. 

Tessin, Xici>demus do, ii. 243. 

Teuton, ii. 137. 

Theatres, of n;odcrn times, importance 
and prevalence of, ii. 375. Italy, 
Spain, France, and England, earliest 
of, ii. 376. Modern, construction of, 
ii. 378-386. Classification of, ii. 386. 
Lyric, principal diuKnsidns of, Ac, ii. 
387-394. Dramatic, princijial dimen- 
sions, etc. ii. 394-404. JMusie-halls, ii. 

Theatres, French, i. 307. 

-, Becent, ii. 407. 

;-, the tiro dangers, ii. 408. 

Theseus, Temple of, Vienna, ii. 212. 

Thomson, ii. 169 

Thomond, ii. 271. 

Thomas's (St.) Hospital ii. 139, 112. 

Thornton, Dr. W., ii. 330. 

Tiene Palace, Vicenza, f.a^ade of. i. 151 

Tite, Sir W., ii. 79. 

Tife, i. 116; ii. 121, 128, 130. 

Titz, ii. 412. 

Todi, church at, plan, i. 69. Section of, 
i. 70. Elevation of, i. 71. 

Tokolotr, ii. 273. 

Toledo, Alcazar at, i. 203, 204. 

Tombs, Dutch, at Surat, ii. 290. 

Topluimi. mosque at. ii. 312. 

Tordinuni Theatre, Rome, horseshoe form 
first introduced in, ii. 377. 

Travellers' Club, London, ii. 89. 

Treasurv Buildings, London, north front 
of, ii. 59. • 

Treasury, the, London, ii. 139. 

Tressini, ii 253. 

Trevisano Palace, Venice, i. 128. 

Trianon, tlie great Paris hotel of, i. 278 

at Versailles, i. 277. 

La Trinitc, Paris, i. 236. 

Trinity College, Cambridge. Neville's 
Court of, ii. 11. Couit of Hilary, view 
of, ii. 51. 

Trinity Church, Xcn- York, ii. 351. 

, Poston, ii. 359, 360. 

Trophies and tombs in Franco, i. 294-300. 

Truro Cathedral, ii. 158. 

Tudin Cathedral, ii. 137. 

Tuileries, the Pari-s, coinmenceiiicnt of, 
i. 258. Central pavilii)n of, Dc Lorme's 
design, i. 259. Flore pavilion, i. 261, 
287. Arch of. i. 296. 

Turin, Superga near, i. 97. Architectural 
buildings, deficiency in, i. 16t: _Opfra- 
house, the dimensions of, ii. 387. 

Turkey, history of Renaissance Archi- 
tecture, commencement in, ii. 310. 
S;tr;ir(iiii- stvlc in. ii. 310. Mo.-<que9 



of, ii. 312-316. Palaces of, ii. 316- 

United States, recent Architecture in, 
(xiii.), ii. 343. (See America.) 

Universities of Licg.; and Ghent, ii. 235. 

Utah, proposed Mormon temples at, ii. 
341, 342. 

Valdevira, i. 183. 

VaUadolid, cathedral at, plan of, i. 186. 
Materials, &c., of, i. 185. 

Valmarina Palace, Vicenza, i. 42. 

Van Brunt, ii. 351. 

Vanbrugh, Sir John, ii. 53-58. 

Yandramini Palace, Venice, i. 129. 

Vanvitelli, i. 166. 

Varonikin, ii. 257. 

Vasili Blanskenoy at Moscow, ii. 278. 

Vatican, Rome, Belvedere Court of,i. 138. 
Loggie Court of, i. 138, 139. 

Vaux, ii. 351. 

Venice, Grimani Palace at, i. 41. Santa 
Maria delle Slaute at, i. 95, 96, 134. 
San Siraone Minore at, i. 94. San Zac- 
caria at, i. 100. San Franci sco della 
Vignaat,i. 102. San Giorgio Maggiore 
at,'i. 102, 106. Sta. Maria Zobenico at, 
i. 103, 134. Secidar Architecture of, i. 
125-136. Gothic style in, i. 126. I;> 
ternal court and north-east angle of 
Ducal Palace at, i. 126, 127. Trevisano 
at, i. 128. Vandramini Palace at, i. 
129. Procuratie Vecchie at, i. 128. 
Cornaro at, i. 128, 131. Caraerlinghi 
at, i. 130. Grimani at, i. 130. Library 
of St. Mark at, i. 131-133. De la 
Carita Convent at, i. 133. Prison at, 
i. 134. Zecca Palace at, i. 134. Pesaro 
Palace at, i. 134, 135. Pisano Palace 
at, i. 134. Rezzonico Palace at, i. 134. 
Domestic Architecture of, i. 136. 
Theatre at, ii. 375. Fenice Theatre, 
dimensions of, at, ii. 387. Castello del 
Lido at, ii. 424. 

Verity, ii. 151. 

Verona, fragment from the Pelegrini 
Chapel at, i. 23. Fortifications and 
gateways at, ii. 424. 

Versailles Palace, the, as it now exists, 
plan of, i. 267. Section of great gal- 
lery, &c., i. 269. Dimensions, external 
and internal arrangement of, i. 269, 
270 Trianon at, i. 277. Theatre, 
the, plan and section of, ii. 398. 
Dimensions ot theatre at, ii. 394. 

Vicehza, Valmarina Palace at, i. 42. 
Architecture of, i. 150. Tiene Palace 
at, i. 151. Chiericatc Palace at, i. 152. 
Barbarano Palace at, i. 153. Villa del 
Capro, near, i. 153, 154. Basilica at, 
i. 155. Theatre at, ii. 375. Theatre 
Olympico at, ii. 375. 

Victoria Theatre, Berlin, double auditory 
and plan of, ii. 402. View of summer 
auditory, ii. 403. 

Victorian Age of English Art, (xi.) 

Vienna, San Carlo Borromeo, church at, 
ii. 183. The Burg at, ii, 179. Schoir- 
brunn Palace at, ii. 188. Votif Kirche 
at, ii. 212. Temple of Theseus at, ii. 
213. Imperial arsenal at, ii. 213. 
Armoury at, ii. 213. Opera-house at, 
dimensions of, &c., ii. 387, 394. 

Vienna, Street Architecture, ii. 222. 

, the Votive Church, ii. 225, 228. 

Torcn Uall, ii. 226, 228. 

Vincent's (St.), Cork, ii. 137, 138, 164. 

Vigna, San Francesco della, Venice, 
church of, i. 101. 

Vignola, Giacomo Barozzi da, i. 144, 145, 
147, 246. 

Villaneuva, Juan de, i. 206. 

Vincent (St.) de Paul, church of, at 
Paris, i. 236. 

Vinci, Leonardo da, i. 169. 

ViolIet-le-Duc, i. 305 ; ii. 133. 

Visconti, i. 285. 

Volckner, ii. 269. 

Volkoff, ii. 269. 

Votif Kirche, Vienna, plan of, ii. 213. 

Vriendt, Cornelius de, ii. 230. 

Vulliamy, ii. 128. 

Walhalla, Munich, ii. 195. Plan of, ii. 

Wallace Monument, ii. 134. 

Walpole, Horace, ii. 96, 97. 

Waiter, ii. 351. 

Wanstead House, front elevation of, ii. 58. 

TFar Office Competition, ii. 159. 

Ware, ii. 351. 

Warwick, tower of church at, ii. 49. 

Washington, the Capitol at, ii. 330-335. 
Plan of the original Capitol, ii. .331. 
Plan "if ditto, with proposed wing«. ii. 
332. Half section of Capitol, ii. ij:!3 
View of Capitol, as it now is, ii. 335. 
Smithsonian Institute at, ii. 336. 
Tower of ditto, ii. 336. Treasury 
buildings at, ii. 337. 

Waterhouse, ii. 139, 141, 145, 146, 160. 

Waterloo Bridge, London, ii. 411. 

Werder Kirche, Berlin, ii. 202. 

Westminster Bridge, ii. 134. 

— — Column, ii. 134. 

West wood House, ii. 16. 

Whewell, ii. 124. 

White, Memoir of the Author, (xxvii.) 

Wliitehall, plan of Inigo Jones's design 
for palace at, ii. 21. Diagrams of 
ditto, ii. 22. Banqueting-house, ii. 24. 

Wight, ii. 351. 

Wilars de ITonecourt, ii. 133. 

Wilkins, ii. 76, 100. 

Willis, ii. 124. 

Wilton House, facade of, ii. 27. 

Winchester, palace at, ii. 50. 

Windows, Scotland, ornaments of, ii. 18. 

Windsor Castle, ii. 107. 

Winter Palace (St. Petersburgh), dimen- 
sions of, ii. 268. Portion of fa9ade of, 
ii. 268. 



Wiseman, Cardinal, ii. 136. 

Withers, ii. 351. 

Wollaton House, view of, ii. 14. 

Woodward, ii. 134. 

Wren, Sir Christopher, ii. 30-52 

Wren, ii. 6. 

Wyatt, Ihgby, ii. 121, 129, 132, 134, 139. 

Wyatt, James, ii. 98, 99, 378. 

Wyatville, Sir Jeffrey, ii. 107. 

Wyn7i Memorial Library, ii. 360, 361. 

Ximenes, Card, i. 197. 

Zaccaria (San), Venice, cliurch of, i. 100 
Zamienie, !^t. Petersburgli, church of, ii- 

Zaragoza, cathedral del Pilar at, i. 185. 

186. Seo Cathedral at. i. 186, 187. 

Court in palace of tlie Infanta at, i. 20l. 
Zarco Zelo, palace of, near St. I'clers- 

burgh, ii. 268. 
Zecca Pahice, Venice, i. 134. 
Ziebland, ii. 193. 
Zobenico, Sta. Maria, Venice, church of, 

i. 103, 134. 
Zucharolf, ii. 270. 
Zwinger Palace, Dresden, v'u-\\ of, ii. 187 



2 H 

Works by the same Author. 


With 18 Plates in Tinted Litliography, folio; with a Volume of Text 8vo., Plans, 
&c. 2i. 7i-. 6d. Liindon, Weale, 1845. 

TURE IN HINDOSTAN. 2-4 Plates in Coloured Lithography, with Plans, 
Woodcuts, and explanatory Text, &c. il. is. London, Hogarth, 1847. 


with Restored Plans of the Temple, and with Plans, Sections, and Details of tin- 
Church buili by Oonstantine the Great over the Holv Sepulchre, now known s the 
Mosque of Omar. 16s., or 21s. half Russia. London, Weale, 1847. 


BEAUTY IN ART. mine especially with reference to Architecture. Royal 8vo. 
31s. 6d. London, Longmans, 1 849. 


GALLERY and NATIONAL RECORD OFFICE; with Suggestions fur their 
Impnivenipnt. 8vo. London, Weale, 1849. 

TION, with Hints for its Application M our National Defences. 12s. 6ri. London, 
Weale, 1819. 


An Essay on Ancient Assyrian and Persian Architecture. With Illustrations. 
8vo. 16s. London, Murray, 1851. 

THE PERIL OF PORTSMOUTH. French Fleets and English 

Foi!T.-. With a Plan. Third E litiun. 3s. London, Murra\, 1853. 

PORTSMOUTH PROTECTED : a Sequel to the ' Peril of Pobts- 

MOi'TH ' With Notes on Sebastopol and I'ther Sieges during the Present^,V.V'*r.-^ 
With Plans and Wni.dcuts. 8vo. 3s. 6d London, Murray, 1856. 

4to. 7s. ed. London, Murray, 1862. 


Being tlie substance of Two Lectures delivered at the Royal Institution, Albemai!" 
Street, on the 21st of July, 1862, and 3rd March, 1865. London, Murray, 186'>.