Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/sacredmediaevala01gomm THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE LIBRARY. The Gentleman' s Magazine Library Sacred and Mediaeval Architecture A Classified Collection of the Chief Contents of " The Gentleman's Magazine " from 1731-1868 ILdited by George Laurence Gomme Volume One London Elliot Stock, 62 Paternoster Row 1890 \ / ARCHITECTURAL ANTIQUITIES. PREFACE. HE cry against the senseless waste of money spent in destroying old buildings was begun years ago, as the papers in this volume sufficiently attest. They were printed in the Gentleman's Magazine anonymously, under the signature, "An Architect"; but it was an open secret, if not from the beginning, at all events towards the conclusion of the series, that they were by the well-known antiquary and architect, John Carter. The authorship was after his death announced publicly (1817, ii. 363). There is much in these articles that offend the taste of the modern reader, and the author had certainly not attained a high proficiency in the language of his native country. A very considerable portion of them has been omitted in this reprint, and I fear some will think that the pruning-knife could have been more vigorously used. But I have sought to preserve as much of the style in which the articles were written as space would allow, so that the sense in which we may take the facts which are recorded may be to some extent determined by the disposition of the writer. It has been extremely difficult to do this without at the same time printing a great deal that could be spared. However, I think no true architectural antiquary will regret having in a handy form for reference these honest attempts at reforming Eng- lish taste and feeling about our ancient monuments. The details are extremely important, because they consist of descriptions written from actual surveys of the various buildings, and in many cases, as recorded in the notes, the hand of the restorer has been at work again upon these buildings, and spoilt much that existed at the beginning of the century. There is no need to give here anything like an exhaustive introduction to the series of papers presented in this volume. vi Preface. Architectural antiquities have been studied since Carter's time to a greater degree, perhaps, than any other branch of archaeology ; and it is not improbable that these papers produced the first impetus towards the desire of preserving our ancient monuments. It is dreadful to think of the miserable destruction that has taken place ; and the record of destruction that has been averted is very great. If any monuments may be considered as national, surely our churches stand out as the very first to come under this designa- tion ; and yet they seem to be the sport of every fancy and whim that man can devise. The inhabitants of St. Albans do not really appreciate or sanction by their approval the proceedings in their once noble cathedral church, and the nation at large have, or at least had, as great an interest in such a building as the St. Albans people. But neither the local nor the national authority seems to have the power of stopping the work. Sir John Lubbock has done immense service, after years of disappointment and refusal, in getting the Legislature to do something to protect ancient monuments; but churches are unfortunately outside the scope of the Ancient Monuments Act. On the Continent these things are managed very differently, and it might perhaps not be altogether a dream of the future to induce the Crown to grant a commission of inquiry into the best and most practical way of preserving what is left of our ancient monuments. I can think of no better argument for such a course than the contents of this volume. Readers will, of course, be careful against accepting too implicitly the theories put forward by Mr. Carter. The statements as to fact, I think, may be relied upon. On the question of "Saxon" architecture there are many statements which the researches of later times have corrected, and the list of Saxon buildings given in Parker's " Glossary " will be a guide to check the statements in this volume. But it is important to bear in mind Carter's own definition of what he considered to be "Saxon." He employed the term as Saxon in character rather than as in date. For instance, he says in 1810, part i., p. 130, answering a critic: "As for the cathedrals of Durham and Norwich, I have nowhere said they were erected before the Conquest; but merely termed them Saxon works, as being designed after that manner ; at least those particular parts of walls still bearing evident marks of such peculiarities. I call, for instance, the chapel in the keep of the Tower of London a Saxon piece of architecture, by way of distinction, as presenting many of its strongest Preface. vii features, though we all know this chapel was constructed by Bishop Gundulph in Henry I.'s reign. Is it not a general observation when a building is raised in our own time to say it is either Grecian (example, east front of Covent Garden Theatre) or Roman (example, east front Covent Church), etc. ?" There is some sense in this argument, and there is certainly method, though it is not now the accepted one. Carter was a self- educated man, and was very obstinate in the view he took of " English " antiquities, as opposed to anything foreign. Still, his work was admirable of its kind, and I do not hesitate to claim for this reprint the attention of those interested in architectural and particularly church archaeology. Saxon, as used by Carter in the following pages, corresponds in nearly all cases to what is now termed Norman, and early English in some cases includes not only transition from Norman to first-pointed, but also the bar-tracery period. Norman he professes to use (see p. 125) for the mode of architecture of which the pointed arch is the grand characteristic, i.e. to use it for early English, as nowadays Norman is confined to the round arch period almost entirely. The spelling and phraseology of the author has at all times been followed. Of the author, John Carter, there is an admirable account in the " National Biography," and these articles are particularly alluded to as being among his most important works. He died in 181 7, and as the biographical notices in the Gentleman 's Magazine contain some useful information in addition to that readily obtainable from Mr. Leslie Stephen's great work, it is thought well to reprint them as an addendum to this preface. [1817, Part /., pp. 363-368.] Mr. John Carter was born June 22, 1748. He was the son of Benjamin Carter, who resided in Piccadilly, and followed the profession of a sculptor, in which he attained to a considerable degree of eminence, many of the principal chimney-pieces and monuments of the then day having issued from his house. He was placed at an early age at a boarding-school at Battersea, where his genius began to unfold itself in practising music on the English flute, and making attempts at drawing. From thence he was re- moved to another in Kermington Lane, where, in the interval of school hours, he followed his favourite pursuits. This he quitted about the year 1760, and went home to his father, under whose roof viii Preface. he prosecuted the art of design, making working drawings for the men, and indulging, as his leisure afforded him an opportunity, his passion for music. His father dying about the year 1763, he was left, at the age of fifteen, unprotected and void of all support, to choose his own course of life. He did not long hesitate, but fixed his mind upon architecture; and in the year 1764 entered upon his antiquarian labours by drawing the ruins of The Herald's Tower in Windsor Castle, with which his voluminous and valuable sketches, from that period to the year 1816 inclusive, commence. About this time Mr. Jos. Dixon, surveyor and mason, of St. Alban's Street (who executed the mason's work of Blackfriars Bridge, built that at Exeter, etc.), made proposals to him to study under his instruction, till he came of age, at a liberal salary, which kind offer he accepted, and remained with him for some years. In 1768 he began to make drawings for Mr. Henry Holland, the eldest son of Mr. Richard Holland, bricklayer, of Halfmoon Street, Piccadilly, which connection continued for many years, his engage- ments with Mr. Dixon not preventing his employing his leisure hours for the service of others. In 1774 he engaged to execute drawings for a periodical work, the Builder's Magazine, edited by Mr. Newbery, bookseller, in St. Paul's Churchyard, which he regularly assisted with his talents till its completion in 1786, and which contained a series of 185 engravings on all kinds of architec- tural subjects. The year 1780 was memorable for his having been then first employed by the Society of Antiquaries to draw and etch some subjects. To their patronage he had been introduced by the Rev. Dr. Lort, from whom he received very considerable attention during the remainder of his life. This year, likewise, he drew for Richard Gough, Esq., his subsequent great patron, the west front of Croyland Abbey Church and numerous other subjects, which are interspersed in " The Sepulchral Monuments " and other works of that gentleman. The following year, 1781, brought him acquainted with John Soane, Esq., the architect to the bank ; his great friend, the Rev. Dr. Milner, who about that time left the College of Douay, in France, together with his associate in studies, John Kemble, Esq., and returned to England ; and his eminent and learned patrons, Sir Henry Charles Englefield, Richard Bull, Esq., and the Hon. Horace Walpole, afterwards Lord Orford (to whose notice he was introduced by Mr. Bull). He had also previous to this time received consider- able patronage from Dr. Ducarel, William Seward, Esq., and Thomas Barrett, Esq., of Leigh, near Canterbury, the two latter of whom continued their friendship with him during their lives. Encouraged by the flattering attention and recommendation of so many eminent and learned men, Mr. Carter was induced to enter Preface. ix upon his first great work, " Specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting," the first volume of which he dedicated to Lord Orford ; an occurrence about that time— the discovery of a statue in West- minster Hall, upon taking down the old stairs leading to the Exchequer, of which, together with other sculptures about the Hall, he had an intention of publishing an etching — having given him the idea of commencing a work illustrative of the ancient sculpture and painting of this kingdom. In this work Mr. Carter received much valuable assistance from several eminent antiquaries, and particularly from Mr. Gough, both in compiling and revising the descriptions of his plates, in the course of which no less than ten articles were written expressly for it by that distinguished antiquary. In the year 1782 he was employed by Wm. Bray, Esq., F.A.S., the now worthy treasurer, from whom he received great countenance and recommendation, and always remained on the most friendly terms. During the year 1783 he was engaged by the Earl of Exeter to copy some paintings in water-colours, The Spanish Royal Family (contemporary with James I.), and some of the Nobility at the late Lord Grantham's, Whitehall. This nobleman (to whom he had permission to dedicate the second volume of his " Specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting," which he finished in 1794, and which completed that work) proved a liberal patron to him. At the exhibition of the Royal Academy in the spring of 1786, Mr. Carter exhibited his splendid drawing, the design for the frontispiece of his first volume of " Ancient Sculpture and Painting." Among his chief patrons we may also recount that eminent encourager of the fine arts, Sir Richard Colt Hoare, Bart., and Thomas Lister Parker, Esq. Sir Richard has, perhaps, the largest collection of finished drawings that Mr. Carter ever made for one person ; and a curious collection of drawings of English dresses was made expressly for Mr. Parker. In the course of the year 1786 he commenced publishing a second work, consisting of small etchings, of " Views of Ancient Buildings in England." This work is comprised in six volumes, duodecimo, and was intended by Mr. Carter, not only as a pocket companion to the antiquary, but likewise as an index to his valuable and extensive collection of sketches. Having brought his "Specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting " to a close in the year 1794, he the following year began a new one of great importance and magnitude, " The Ancient Archi- tecture of England," the first volume of which he lived to finish. We have now to recount the very elaborate, faithful, and beautiful drawings executed by him of St. Stephen's Chapel, the Abbey Church of Bath, and the cathedrals of Exeter, Durham, and Gloucester for the Society of Antiquaries, and which were afterwards published by them. X Preface, The drawings of the Abbey Church of St. Alban's, made by Mr. Carter for Mr. Gough, and presented by him to the Society of Antiquaries, by whom they were subsequently published, swell a list of works so numerous, and yet so highly delicate in design and execution, as could hardly be considered capable of being executed by the pencil of one man. Yet another set of numerous highly- finished drawings, with descriptions, of York Minster crown his industrious career in this line of his profession. As an architect in the ancient English style, his designs were carried into effect, amongst others, in the following works : A small oratory, with appropriate decorations, for James Moore, Esq., F.A.S., about the years 1794, 1795. Also a ver y ric ^ monument and chimney-piece for Trench Chiswell, Esq. In the year 1800 he was employed at Oatlands in certain parts of the exterior of the house and in a chimney-piece. A few years afterwards he made a design of four almshouses, afterwards erected at Wrotham, in Kent. The great west window at Exeter Cathedral, executed by Coade, about eight or nine years ago, under Mr. Soane, was from designs made by Mr. Carter. And a chapel now completing near Sevenoaks, in Kent, is likewise from his pencil, the very curious roof of which, in part framed under his immediate inspection, exhibits a genuine specimen of the ancient mode of framing timber work. Music, which was the delight of his youth, was the companion of his maturer years and the solace of his age; and, although almost a self-taught musician, his compositions were very interesting and con- siderable. He had likewise exhibited early in life a dramatic taste, which he seemed to have imbibed from his maternal grandfather, John Jameson, a Lancaster man, who had written a variety of dramatic pieces, novels, etc. Being thus disposed, he had in his younger days written several little pieces, which he had set to music, and this turn of mind growing with his strength, he continued his compositions, and set portions of Shakespeare's plays to music. He likewise wrote an ode on the death of Richard II., to which he composed the music. But his chefs d'oeuvre in this line were two operas, founded upon the history, ancient manners and customs of this country, "The White Rose" and "The Cell of St. Oswald," which he not only wrote, but set to music, and painted the scenery adapted to them, which he exhibited upon a small stage. And even in the latter part of his life he appears to have advanced far in the writing and composition of a third opera, illustrative of ancient manners not introduced in his former productions. [1818, Part I., pp. 273-276.] The following additional particulars of our late worthy correspon- dent are chiefly extracted from the New Monthly Magazine : His education was very inferior even to what, in the time that he Preface. xi was educated, might have been given to qualify him for those pursuits in which he subsequently engaged. He knew no language but his own, and never could read or explain any inscription or epitaph that was not written in English. This threw him into a very unpleasant state of dependence in his subsequent pursuits, and was the cause of much uneasiness to him in the course of his life. I was told by himself that in early life he had been occasionally employed by Dixon and Holland ; and since his death I have information from a person who knew him forty years ago in the employment of Mr. Wyatt, superintending the workmen in the buildings upon which that gentleman was engaged. At that time Carter was reckoned an odd, close man, and supposed to have saved some money. There can be no doubt that this was the occupation by which he supported himself ; and I know, from his own mouth, that all his leisure time was employed in examining and drawing Westminster Abbey and all its parts under every point of view. For many years he cultivated the acquaintance of every person who was employed about that building : was intimate with all the inferior officers, and respectfully attentive to the superiors and dignitaries, who, seeing him continually about the place, investigated his talents, and finally introduced him to the world of antiquaries, by whom he was afterwards employed and patronized. I learned from himself that the first money he earned as a draughts- man was by making drawings for booksellers : besides other things, he made all the designs for the Builder's Magazine, of which work he told me the following anecdote : When it was determined to build a new Sessions House on Clerkenwell Green instead of the old Hicks's Hall, the persons in authority advertised for designs, and promised to adopt that which should be approved of. Carter sent in a design, which was rejected for reasons which were to him the cause of singular mortification. He had in the Builder's Magazifie inserted a design for a new sessions house ; this design was copied by some person from the magazine, offered to the county, accepted, and is the design for that building which is now standing on Clerkenwell Green. Those who possess the book may ascertain their identity by comparison ; the magazine was published before the house was built, so that there is complete evidence that an artist of talents had his design for a building of con- sequence rejected in favour of a design that was likewise his own, but which had been either artfully or luckily borrowed from an existing publication, without acknowledgment, by some person, who thus obtained all the credit and emolument, while the real inventor never received more than two or three guineas for his design. As the evidence is complete, and the fact incontrovertible, I have much pleasure in mentioning the Sessions House on Clerkenwell Green as a farther proof of Carter's talents as an architect. xii Preface. As booksellers in those days were not accustomed to pay such sums for the work of artists as are now paid by their successors, I shall mention the circumstance which, Carter told me, first induced him to project his " Specimens of Ancient Sculpture, Architecture," etc., which was the first public step he made towards that eminence he afterwards acquired in his peculiar department. He was employed to make a drawing or drawings for a bookseller, for which he expected to receive five or six guineas ; he carried it home, the man examined, approved, and laid it aside ; but threw him down a single guinea, and told him that was all he could give him for it. This treatment enraged poor Carter so much that he vowed he would never do anything more for a bookseller, but get into some- thing that would set him above the power of such people. He then projected his "Specimens of Ancient Sculpture, Painting," etc. ; and, as it did not consist with his finances to employ engravers, he applied himself to etching, and acquired so much power as enabled him to execute that work. His talents as a draughtsman were quite equal to that part of the work ; but he could not draw up the descriptions to his own satisfac- tion, and therefore solicited the assistance of gentlemen whose know- ledge enabled them to perform the task in a way that greatly enhanced the value of the works. This placed him in situations that first con- verted some of his friends into enemies, and procured for him the character of a quarrelsome man ; and as a knowledge of the facts may afford useful cautions to others, I shall mention some of them. In the choir of Westminster Abbey was, at that time, a whole- length portrait of Richard II. which is believed to be authentic. Carter made a finished drawing from this picture, and engraved it to be inserted in his " Specimens," etc. A gentleman agreed to purchase this drawing, and in consequence the plate was inscribed to , Esq., from the drawing in his possession. Whether this honour satisfied the gentleman, or whether more money was asked for the drawing than he chose to give, I know not ; but after the plate was published he refused to take the drawing, which remained in Carter's hands. Soon afterwards Harding, a printseller, undertook to publish a collection of the most authentic portraits that he could procure of Shakespeare's characters, or of persons mentioned in or connected with Shakespeare's plays. The inscription upon Carter's plate led him to ask Mr. 's permission to engrave the head of Richard II. from the drawing in his possession. The permission was graciously granted ; but he was told it would answer the same purpose, and save the trouble of bringing the drawing to town, if he made his drawing from the book, which was lent him for that purpose. Carter, seeing his plate so unceremoniously copied, sued Harding for the piracy ; this led to an explanation, from which it evidently appeared Preface. xiii that Harding was not to blame — because the gentleman, when applied to, did not choose to acknowledge that he had not a right to grant what was asked of him ; and, when the fact was discovered, very dictatorially required that, because he had chosen to do this, and in consequence of occasionally purchasing some of Carter's works, called himself his patron, he should abandon his suit. This he refused ; Harding made the best compromise that he could, and Carter lost his patron, who, to save his own credit, told the story as much to the artist's disadvantage as he could make it appear. A needy author collected some scraps of information upon a particular subject from various books ; and by the help of wide printing, large paper, and without leave copying one of Carter's most curious plates, constructed a book which he chose to sell for a guinea, although the original matter it contained would not have produced the odd shilling. Our artist, knowing that the author was not worth powder, sued the bookseller, who, having no defence, suffered judg- ment to go by default, and was compelled to pay such damages as compensated for the injury sustained. These and some other circumstances of less notoriety induced persons who found they could not make free with his property with impunity to misrepresent his motives and his actions, when his only object was to enjoy unmolested that which his industry had acquired. Of the trouble and expense it cost him to execute this work, none but his confidential acquaintance can judge. I shall mention one fact among others that I know, and which will convey some idea of them. He learned that the Corporation of Lynn-Regis, in Norfolk, possessed a valuable cup, that was given to them by King John at the same time that he granted their charter. Conceiving that this would be a desirable article for his work, he procured some introduc- tions, and went down to make a drawing from it. The Corporation at that time could not comprehend the motives which should induce a stranger to go so far only to take a picture, as they called it ; they probably suspected that he intended to steal, or otherwise injure their palladium, and abruptly refused the permission required. After repeated applications, however, they consented — but on condition that he should be confined to a room in company with a person chosen by themselves, but paid by him, whose business was to see that no improper liberties were taken with the valuable cup ; and under these circumstances he actually made that drawing from which he engraved the plate that is in the "Specimens of Sculpture," etc. He expended considerable sums on other occasions to obtain materials for that work, the value of which was greatly increased by the written contributions of his antiquarian friends ; but as these (except what he received from one person) were gratuitous, it was necessary to wait their leisure before he could receive them. This, xiv Preface. and other circumstances, not necessary to mention, induced him to terminate that work when two volumes were complete, and begin the "Specimens of Ancient Architecture," which is entirely his own. Those who remember the stage when Garrick and Smith performed Macbeth, and Barry Othello, dressed in the laced scarlet uniforms of the generals of that day, may justly estimate the extent of the improve- ments that have been made in every department of the dresses and decorations that are now used in theatrical representations, and for the greater part of which we are indebted to the exertions of Mr. Kemble. When that gentleman was engaged upon those subjects, he consulted Carter, who readily gave the information that was asked of him ; and, if it had been possible to comply with his suggestions, he would have willingly dedicated his whole time gratuitously to render the representations of all our old plays what he called perfect in point of scenery and dresses ; his notion was that every play, particularly those of Shakespeare, should have scenes exactly representing all the places and dresses in every particular adapted to each of the characters, which should be kept sacred to the play and character intended, and not to make shift, as he called it, by shuffling dresses and scenes backward and forward from one play to another, and thus never truly representing any. However desirable such a scheme, if executed, might be in some respects, it is easy to perceive that in practice it would be impossible without abandoning all just ideas of economy which should pervade all threatrical as well as all other transactions. Mr. Kemble received what information was communicated, and made that use of it which he thought proper. Raymond, the late manager of Drury Lane, consulted him upon the same subjects, and with the same success. Mr. A. C. Bickley has compiled the notes and index to this volume. I am greatly indebted to Mr. T. J. Micklethwaite for his kindness in looking through the sheets and for many notes which he supplied thereon for my guidance and use. G. L. GOMME. Barnes Common, S.W., 8 May, 1890. ARCHITECTURAL INNO VA TION. VOL. X. ARCHITECTURAL INNOVATION. [1798, Part II., pp. 764-765-] IT having been a matter of admiration to those who venerate the ancient arts of this kingdom, when informed that such or such a work of antiquity had been preserved from destruction by judicious repairs, or by the discerning protection of some guardian of his country's historical landmarks ; it is, therefore, no less necessary to point out for their abhorrence the knowledge of those remains of our country's ancient splendour which may, from time to time, give way to the iron hand of architectural innovation.* Peterborough. The gate of entrance into the close before the west front of this cathedral is a noble performance of the Saxon and Norman styles of architecture. By the latter, I would have it understood that species where the pointed arch is the leading feature, and which has too long been disgraced by the barbarous name of Gothic architecture. This gate has lately been repaired, and the upper part decorated with the ridiculous ideas of a country mason, who has, in this farrago of architecture, set at defiance all the beautiful models around him. On the right hand from this gate is a fine and curious range of ancient buildings extending to the church. Here the rage of architectural innovation and improvement has spread its devastating and disgust- ing hand. The first building adjoining to the gate has partaken of the same ignorant decorations ; and the last building abutting against the cathedral has been entirely destroyed. It is rather now an unpleasant task to say it was a very rich, a very charming piece of ancient art ; and, what is of more real consequence, that it was a protecting kind of buttress to the west end of the church. It is with me a general remark, that all our ancient structures (I confine my- [* The notes of this section are arranged as Note I, in alphabetical order under the name of each of the buildings mentioned.] I 2 4 Architectural Innovation. self at present to our cathedrals) in their walls, columns, etc., have a tendency towards their western extremity. Now, considering this serious circumstance, how will those who are real antiquaries feel themselves affected when I inform them that there is actually at this moment an idea afloat at Peterborough of taking away that most superb piece of work called the singing-school, which now stands between the centre arch of the cathedral ? This design has, in my memory, been always looked on with delight, and its situation rather approved of, as in some measure hiding the seeming defect (as it may appear to our eyes in the eighteenth century) of the middle arch of the three gigantic ones which form the west front of this splendid edifice. My opinion is, that this singing-school was placed in its present situation by our ancestors for wise purposes ; and, independent of its original use and fine workmanship, I think it is now a protecting and uniting band to this part of the cathedral. I will not presume entirely to raise a warning voice, but anxiously hope that at Peterborough Cathedral architectural innovation has done its worst. London. It may hardly be worth the attention of antiquaries, after having led them to contemplate on such a wonderful structure as the above cathedra], to inform them that that pleasing and delicate oriel window, which decorated Grocers' Hall, has given way to architectural inno- vation ; its matchless masonry lying among the common rubbish of the hall itself. A modern edifice is now raising on its site after the design of Mr. Leverton. Under what innovating name can we term the cause that has removed the London Stone, in Cannon Street, the awful informant of the antiquity of this town, some yards more to the east of the church ? It has been often called the symbol of this great city's quiet state, from its being always believed to be " fixed to its everlasting seat." I intend occasionally to give information of the pursuits of archi- tectural innovation. Peterborough. [See ante^ p. 3.] [1798, Part II., pp. 824-825.] As I have pointed out the danger that might accrue to the cathe- dral, in case any attempt should be made to destroy the beautiful chapel placed within the centre arch of the west front, it may be farther necessary to adduce any fresh ideas which may arise towards the protection of this august fabric. It has been already observed, that the centre arch is of less dimen- sions in width than the two side ones. This circumstance con- sidered, it must be allowed that it has a greater pressure than its opening can be supposed reasonably to bear ; add to this, two vast Hereford. — Maidstone. 5 towers flanking the side arches, all contributing to press towards the centre. The practice of our day in architecture is to make the centre opening of a range of arches, etc., of a superior size to the side open- ing, as we witness in bridges, colonnades, porticos, etc. Now, suppos- ing that, after the completion of this west front, the piers on each side the centre arch had given signs of being insufficient to bear off the adjoining parts of the building, and that it was thought expedient to raise an interior uniting arch within it, decorated in the beautiful manner we now behold it. Allowing but for an instant this propo- sition, let the reverend guardians of this wonderful pile be cautious how they attend to any professional advice from surveyors or masons towards the annihilating this beautiful uniting band, this architec- tural protection to the west end of this superb cathedral. Hereford [1784]. I now recall to memory some circumstances which preceded the destruction of the west end of the cathedral in this city. On viewing the west end, I noticed that the north-west angle of it appeared in a dangerous state, as several large fractures were apparent in many places. On expressing my apprehensions for the safety of the build- ing, I was shown what had lately been done for preserving it from any danger that might happen from such appearances. I was shown a prodigious pile of masonry which had been raised against the inside walls of the above-mentioned angle. This business, I plainly observed, looked to me a palpable design to throw down the fabric, not to protect it. And my prediction was but too soon verified. Maidstone [1798]. The collegiate church is a fine specimen of the architecture of the fourteenth century ; Courtney, Archbishop of Canterbury, being the founder thereof, and of the college adjoining. On the south side of the choir, near the altar, are the three stalls' 55 ' for the priests, of a very rich and noble design ; but they are much disfigured by some con- temptible modern monuments placed against them ; however, the side next the south aisle is partly entire, and presents many large paintings. Whatever might have been the finishing of the building overhead, either with groined arches or opened enriched woodwork, they are either destroyed, or are now hid by common flat plastered ceilings. Sorry I am to observe, that the inhabitants who frequent some of our finest ancient churches wish for the same innovating system to take place with them also. Of the college there are still considerable remains. The grand gate of entrance. In styling our ancient gateways grand, I hold them in competition with the triumphant gateways or arches of * See the " Archseologia," vol. x., p. 261. 6 Architectural Innovation. Greece and Rome ; and, in some future number of these pursuits, I shall bring to the notice of the public gates of entrance upon as splendid and magnificent a scale as any of those foreign works that have so long been the theme and admiration of Englishmen, blind to the noble remains of our architectural splendour. From this gate^of entrance there is a range of buildings extending to the river, and thence continuing to the south, at the boundary of which are some remains of another gate of entrance corresponding with the gate above-mentioned. While standing in the space between the college and the church, and admiring the interesting and noble scene, my satisfaction was much damped by noticing that part of the range of the college building was at that moment used as lofts for drying hops in. Rochester [1798]. The decent state of the cathedral, in regard to cleanliness, is highly praiseworthy. Of the state of the religious establishment, that can hardly be recognised ; no harmonious choir to " Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heav'n before mine eyes." A new screen at entering into the choir now meets the eye— a poverty-struck imitation of the ancient pointed arch-work. Here pointed arches and tracery are merely punched out; drops, crochets^ finials, barely hinted, without any of their fine forms or beautiful relief; none of the delightful, the incomprehensible, under-cut dis- play of ornamental ideas in the soffuts of the canopies of the niches ; none of the deep-shadowed infinity of mouldings. No ; the magic charm of ancient workmanship is wanting ; and why ? Because the inclination to adhere religiously to the ancient manner is wanting ; a proud opinion of superior knowledge and taste pervades in general all who at any time give designs in what they call the Gothic manner. This is their universal opinion, that the ancient works of architecture in this country are very well ; but we can, in this refined age of arts, improve upon their style, and render perfect what they have left so full of imperfections. Can that style be imperfect, the works of which have stood the test of ages ? Can that taste be improved which fills the soul of those who contemplate on its indescribable system with such enthusiastic delight ? Peterborough. [See ante, pp. 3, 4.] [1798, Part II, pp. 926-927.] In mentioning that the gate of entrance into the close of the cathedral had been modernized, I should have previously remarked that a late worthy dean (who now fills the episcopal chair in an eastern part of the kingdom) did me the honour to consult me about restoring the two monuments of Queen Catharine, wife of Peterborough. — Gloucester. 7 Henry VIIL, and the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, they having been removed by his predecessor from each side of the choir to make room for two common plain iron gates. The fragments of these tombs were then before us in his garden, composing the front of a summer-house. Discoursing on the several beauties of the cathedral and the surrounding buildings, he mentioned that the Corporation had strongly solicited for leave to pull down the above gate, that they might have a more open view of the cathedral, and concluded with these emphatic words : " So high a veneration do I entertain for this noble piece of antiquity, that before they pull it down they shall have my head." His highly-merited removal prevented the proposed restoration of the two monuments, and afforded opportunity for architectural innovation to put this gate into the degraded state we now behold it. Some few readers may be surprised at the concern which I express for the preservation of the antiquities of this kingdom, which a renegade antiquary lately told me in public were but " a parcel of old walls and trumpery"! I presume to profess myself a real antiquary ; and, in conformity to that character, I venerate the history of my country ; I venerate the names of the great, the warlike, and the good of former times ; I venerate those astonishing, those magnificent fabrics, those enchanting monumental memorials, which they have left behind them as proofs of their enlightened genius and skill ! Thus far as an antiquary ; but, as an artist, who from my earliest years have been in the habit of constantly admiring their sublime performances, in critically surveying and minutely copying of them, I cannot but feel in the most sensible degree any innovation made in their arrangement, or any destruction made on their several parts. And however weak my efforts may be in the task which I have undertaken to point out to the public the pursuits of architectural innovation, and to stay its iron hand, yet I am confident my efforts will not be entirely in vain. In this consideration I shall continue to bring forward the observations which I have made in various parts of the kingdom to this purpose. Gloucester [1796]. During the civil wars in the last century those communion-tables and their decorations, which had been set up after the reign of Henry VIIL, were everywhere destroyed. At the Reformation new communion-tables and screens were erected in the Roman and Grecian styles, then the rage for church decorations ; and which we still witness, not alone at the altars, but in the stalls, etc., etc. This style we may without the least hesitation term entirely inconsistent with the pointed arched work of the structures wherein they are placed, and their screens hide many an exquisite ancient altar-screen, as at Westminster Abbey, Winchester and Gloucester Cathedrals. s Architectural Innovation, This last fabric has a very fine altar-screen hid by the intrusion of a Corinthian screen. Behind these two screens is room sufficient to admit a person between them. I descended, and was astonished at its enrichments. In its centre is a large compartment; and, on con- sidering its form, and comparing its dimensions with that very curious, interesting, and, in some instances, extremely beautiful, ancient picture of the Last Judgement, now in the gallery on the east side of the south transept, I judged that it might not be improbable but that it once contained this picture as a principal embellishment to its general design. I cannot but lament an incautious custom prevailing in this church, which at every music meeting is the means of mutilating the enrich- ments of the east walls of the transepts. The several benches for the accommodation of the company attending the meeting are stored up in the galleries above, and at that time are let down by cords, which in their descent and ascent necessarily beat against the walls, whereby the pavement becomes strewed with the fragments of small statues, niches, and other fine remains of ancient art. How different are the sensations of men ! While I with pain and regret witnessed the havoc, others present (and belonging to the church too) expressed no more concern than if those walls had been but common ones of flints and rubble ! The oak tomb and statue of Robert Curthoise, Duke of Nor- mandy, and eldest son of William the Conqueror, now in a small chapel on the north side of the choir, was, a few years back, standing in the centre of the choir, the honourable situation for monuments and tombs of royal personages, as we see in Westminster Abbey, Winchester and Worcester Cathedrals. In the latter structure an attempt has lately been made to remove the tomb of King John from the centre of the choir, upon the frivolous pretence that it was a modern tomb, and that the king was not buried there; notwith- standing the evidence of the fashion of the tomb, the dress of the statue, of history, and of tradition, told the contrary; yet the under- takers of this business, being under the influence of architectural innovation, began the attack, but were soon convinced, by finding the royal remains, that architectural innovation may proceed too far. But to return to Gloucester. On the left side of the arch of the south porch a shield has been restored, as it is called. The original shield has on it the ancient arms of England, quartered with fleurs- de-lis and lions. Here the improving or innovating hand of pro- fessional men is most curiously displayed, not only by giving a new form to the shield, but by transposing the lions into the first and fourth quarters, and the fleurs-de-lis into the second and third quarters. I cannot quit this sublime pile without hinting that repairs are absolutely necessary for the magnificent east window ; it should not Gloucester. — Canterbury. 9 be neglected, as its design is of such magnitude and splendour. It extends the width of the choir, and rises from the pavement to the top of the groins ; and is the only example, I believe, of the kind in the kingdom. Its dimensions are 40 feet in width, and 84 feet in height. But here, I doubt, my admonition will be fruitless, as I recollect hearing one of the highest dignitaries of the church observe that there was not any revenue appropriated for the repair of the cathedral. By-the-bye, those liberal benefactors to this building, who lately expended such great sums for the accommodation of those who perambulate its various aisles, by new paving it in every part, should be informed of the dangerous state of this charming specimen of ancient masonry. Their beneficent hands would surely be farther extended by having immediately this window repaired in a proper, substantial, and workmanlike manner. Canterbury [1798]. [1798, Part JL, pp. 1026-1027.] In the cathedral the fine monument of Archbishop Warham has lately been beautified ; an ominous term to the ears of an antiquary ! the literal meaning of which is the whitewashing, painting, pewing, mutilating, and altering the several parts and arrangements of our ancient churches. In the above monument, this modernizing system has much transformed it. The tomb, whereon lay the statue of the archbishop, stood with its head abutting against the west end within the monument, leaving sufficient room not only for a pass from a door on its north side, which gave admittance from adjoining buildings, but for a small altar at the east end, some of its appen- dages remaining, as the basin for the holy water, niches for the utensils of the altar, vestige of the table, etc. Now this door and the altar appendages have been obliterated, and the statue and tomb moved into the centre of the monument, leaving an equal space on each side. Here, they say, they have improved the design of the monument, by making the several parts more uniform. Allowing this pretence, yet have they not in this innovation destroyed a link of the history of this cathedral ? If the improvers of our ancient works wish to show their superior excellence, let them confine their genius to some situation uncon- nected with the performances of our ancient artists ; then will the admirers of each have their favourite objects before their eyes ; the former with all the refinements of modern taste, and the latter with all the enchantments of ancient enthusiasm. The statue of the archbishop is of the finest sculpture, and in good preservation. When it was first recommended to my notice by a learned and pious sub-dean of this cathedral (since dead*) for the * Dr. Berkeley. IO A rchitectural Innovation. noble and benign cast of the features, and which, he observed, was a peculiar satisfaction to him to point out to strangers, we repined that some rude hand had damaged the point of the nose. At his request I took a very particular drawing of the profile. But how great was my surprise and mortification in witnessing this autumn that the improvers of this monument had been so particular as to descend to the poor archbishop's very nose. For, instead of the beautiful prominent sweep I at first witnessed with so much pleasure, I now saw with contempt a new nose, after the improved manner, I suppose, for its sweep was inverted ; in short, unlike anything that Nature ever formed. Turning from this (I call it) despoiled monument, I observed that much work in repairs had been done about the structure ; and what deserves particular praise is, that it was performed in the strictest attention to the original work ; for example, the great windows of the two south transepts, the stalls in the chapter-house, and in other objects of less note. Nor must I withhold mentioning the nice order that every part of the church and cloisters are now kept in, and in particular the undercroft, that yet magnificent scene, if numerous aisles and columns, if rich monuments and delicate screens, can make it so ; if the recollection, that the very chapel that held the gorgeous shrine of St. Thomas a Becket is still remaining, can charm the admirers of the history of former times ; the mind so interested will now find this undercroft in a clean, decent state, and not, as I saw it in 1785, a receptacle for all kind of filth and rubbish. St. Augustine's monastery, if we may judge from the remnants of it still suffered to exist, must have been one of the most splendid in the kingdom. St. Ethelbert's Tower has, on its west aspect, so exces- sively rich a profusion of Saxon ornaments that no description can give an adequate idea of its several parts. To an English artist, fraught with the just admiration of the ancient architecture of his country, the grand gate of entrance into this monastery is an object of triumph. Why have the minds of Englishmen for these two centuries been deluded to imitate the Roman and Grecian styles ? What features have their boasted remains that we cannot parallel ? For the extensiveness of their edifices, their grandeur, their elegance, their enrichments, view our cathedrals and other attendant buildings. Is any one excellence that architecture boasts to be sought for in vain in our own country ? No, we may here find them all ; we may in this charming gate, now brought to public notice, find the very perfection of the art. It appears to have been erected in the glorious reign of Edward III., famed alike for honour, arms, and architecture, when the heroic Edward fought, and the venerated William of Wykeham erected his various royal and religious structures. This gate, that claims all our attention, has an extensiveness of dimensions, elegance of design, and a profusion of enrichments. Canterbury. Yet, stay ; thus it appears to me, by comparing it with objects of every kind of architectural description ; and I may aimost say with me alone, or why see this gate neglected, unrepaired ? Why see the grand chamber over the entrance turned into a cock-pit ? Why see it made a mark for boys and idle persons to throw stones at? Why do I reflect that its owner, who is of an ancient stock (whose feelings should be otherwise), suffers all this ? Aye, and more ; for the adjoining buildings are the receptacle for the profligate of the city. Here one chapel is turned into a tennis-court, another into lofts for drying of hops. So great has been the depredations committed on this once hallowed spot since the reign of Henry VIII., that only a part of the wall of the north aisle of the nave of the church of the monastery is to be met with. Nay, so furious is the zeal for annihilating here the guides of history and the treasure of antiquaries, that the famous relic mass of stones that stood near St. Ethelbert's tower has lately, at much expense, been demolished — and for no one purpose, for no kind of use has been, or will be, made of the spot where it stood, being but an out-yard to the infirmary newly erected within the site of the monastery. It is on record that in 1765 the owner of the remains of St. Augustine's monastery set about to demolish the whole of them, but was persuaded by admonitions from abroad to desist j a severe reflection on those at home, that strangers should be more sensible of the beauties of these buildings than those who had the constant opportunity to view and admire them. May these exquisite specimens of our ancient art meet with that attention and veneration they so highly merit ! And may the present possessor, by driving away the hordes that infest its walls, and by paying a just attention, in point of repairs, to this grand gate of entrance, convince the world that he is not unworthy of the name and fortune he inherits, or of the long train of ancestry from whence he sprung ! [1798, Part II,, pp. 1104-1106.] The curious and uncommon gate of entrance into the monastery of the Blackfriers, which stood on the east side of the High Street and near West Gate (see vol. vi. of " Etchings of Small Views of Antient Buildings in England "), has given way to the innovating system for improving (as it is called) our cities and towns ; a system which will soon level to the ground all these species of remains of ancient architectural splendour ; which surely, in the minds of those who affect to love their country, should be venerated, and meet with their warmest protection ; instead of which, a more than barbarous joy seems to possess the souls of these innovators at this (unfor- tunately for the world) innovating day. I was informed that the two gates, West Gate and St. George's Gate, A rchitectural Innovation. situated at each extremity of the city, with that excessive rich gate of entrance into the close of the cathedral, are but for a very short date; their long-admired forms and enrichments will soon be no more. I perceived the extensive remains of the castle are degraded and almost hid from the public eye by an infinity of huts and warehouses ; indeed, they almost occupy the whole area of the castle. In 1785 I took much notice of the famous Roman arch in the walls which surround the castle. It was at that time permitted to remain, from the exertions and influence of a worthy inhabitant of the city.* But now the memory of it only exists. A prodigious gap is made in that part of the wall where it was inserted for modern con- venience, and to show to the people (as is here given out) how well the city would appear if the whole wonderful range of wall (yet encircling it round) were done away. Thus are the antiquities of the kingdom wantonly destroyed, which stand at the mercy of interested and illiterate mechanics. Our cathedrals and parochial churches may indeed (from their being needful for performing divine service in) stand a better chance of not being entirely demolished ; though the iron hand of architectural innovation is lifted against them, and only waits the nod of some patron of such pursuits to continue their transformation and their dilapidations. Winchester [1789]. The cathedral, though it remains at this day (with little alteration) as it was left after the reign of Henry VIII., yet the neglect and con- tempt shown for its sacred walls is most glaringly manifest. In surveying this cathedral, I was struck with the idea that it appeared in the same state as a building soon expected to be taken down to make way for a new erection ; or, at least, to be entirely new modelled and modernized. Therefore, repairs of any kind to the present humiliated and suffering church would be altogether useless. At the west front I remarked that the parapet of the gallery over the three grand porches was in a most ruinated state, many parts of it having fallen into the gallery. I might mention the dangerous state of the whole front, but shall now decline the particular descrip- tion till a future opportunity, when I may be enabled to give a more minute account of its damaged parts, and what absolute repairs are wanting. On the north side of the nave I everywhere saw broken pinnacles, architraves, and mullions of the windows"; innumerable quarries of the glass were wanting — all together presenting a scene of general devastation. The appearance of the west front of the north transept * Mr. Friend, since deceased. Winchester. 13 is really disgraceful : here is an entrance into the transept,* which is converted into a receptacle for all kind of rubbish ; a modern con- venience usually to be met with in some part or other of our religious structures. It is impossible to command the indignation raised by viewing the groins over the exquisite monumental chapel of Cardinal Beaufort, which are left in such a miserable state that the rain often deluges this wonderful object. Nay, so little is it respected, that prodigious quantities of its broken minute parts are thrown by as so much rubbish. Are the revenues for the repair of this cathedral, like those of Gloucester Cathedral, wanting ? I cannot pursue my observations on this structure any farther. The recollection of the general debased appearance of the whole pile fills my mind with unpleasant reflections, which if communicated, some readers might conclude that I was actuated in my dissertations by motives not con- sistent with a " Christian antiquary " and an artist. However, I cannot forbear quoting a paragraph from the Rev. Mr. Milner's learned and interesting " History of Winchester " (just published), as a necessary conclusion to this number : " Whilst our eyes are yet feasting on the beauties of this unrivalled screen (the high altar of the cathedral), it is proper to mention that proposals have been made to demolish it, together with the oratories behind it, in order to lengthen the choir with the disproportioned aisles of the east end, in the manner that has been so absurdly done in Salisbury Cathedral, f If any consideration could console us for the weak and tottering state of the whole east end of the church, from the tower to the extremity, it is that it will not admit of the removal of this stay against the inward pressure of the walls and buttresses without falling in ruins upon the heads of its presumptuous violators." [1799, Parti., pp. 27-28.] Our ancestors, from their constant attendance to the religious ceremonies celebrated in our cathedrals and other churches, from their witnessing the splendour of the various objects which they presented of superb monumental chapels and tombs ; statues, basso- relievos, paintings on glass, board, and on the walls ; the rich embroidery of tapestry ; the shining pavement of high-wrought grave- stones and brasses ; the infinity of burning tapers ; from their listening to the melting sounds of the harmonious minstrels ; from thus, by turns, having every noble and divine passion of the soul raised to the highest pitch of rapture ; it was no wonder that those * See a specimen of the architecture of this transept, built by Bishop Wakelin, in No. V. of "The Ancient Architecture of England." t See Mr. Milner's dissertation on the transformation of the inside of Salisbury Cathedral, reviewed in p. 1057. Architectural Innovation. who had passed their lives in courts and camps should seek the cloister, there to end their bright career. We find that most, if not all, our monumental chapels and tombs were erected by the very persons, in their lifetime, whose memory they were intended to commemorate after death ; and we likewise know that they used to pass much of their time in these chapels in prayer and devout meditation. Our ancestors, thus so delightfully attached to this last object of all their worldly happiness, and ever witnessing the profound venera- tion and respect paid to these repositories of mortality, became so familiarised to the name of death that they met the awful hour with fortitude and resignation. So much did this holy fervour possess their souls, that we find many noble and royal personages, in their dying moments, desired as their last request to be carried into the church, where, before the high altar, and during the office of divine worship, they breathed their last sigh amid heavenly sounds and pious prayers. Whatever terms may now be affixed to the customs and manners of former times, they cannot do away with this conviction, and which the heart of everyone must own, that to " depart in peace " from this world is the constant attendant wish of all. But these ideas cannot be brought about by contemplating at this day our neglected religious structures and their cemeteries. We there (too often) hear the service mumbled over in a hasty and careless manner \ we notice in many instances the vestments of the clergy in a condition that creates the mirth and pity of the congregation. The churches them- selves we find, in general, are unaired, covered with dust and rubbish, the weather suffered to invade their sacred walls at all points ; that thousands, I believe, from an opinion that militates against the healthfulness of the structures, are prevented from attending to their duty. We behold the monuments defiled, mutilated, and used for the most ignoble purposes — the graves violated — and we are informed that the bodies are taken up and used in a way Nature shudders to think on. And do we not continually hear of some sacrilegious act or other committed on the noblest works of our ancient architecture, to make way for an innovating false taste obtruded on their ruins ? a false and barbarous taste, which these essays have dared to drag before the public for their discountenance and abhorrence. These reflections induce me to bring before the reader's attention the collegiate church of Howden, Yorkshire [1790]. This church is one of the first class of enriched work of our ancient pointed arched style of architecture ; and those parts which remain in a kind of perfect state are the nave (used as a parish Howden, Yorkshire. 15 church) and the great tower, dividing it from the choir. This choir is now a ruin ; its exterior walls are partly standing, and its eastern end presents one of the most regular and beautiful designs that this kingdom can boast of. It is filled with enriched buttresses, windows, grounds, niches, statues, compartments, pinsels, etc. ; and which are so happily disposed that the mind is at a loss which to admire most, the skill of the architect, or that noble patron whose discern- ment gave him the opportunity of showing the power of his enlightened genius. Must I say that this eminent example of ancient skill is left unprotected, left to fall, when a few trifling repairs would insure its existence for many years ? The chapter-house is also a ruin, though great part of its walls are remaining ; and an inhabitant informed me that in his memory this chapter-house was in a very perfect state. I here must own that, although I have seen most of our celebrated chapter-houses which have hitherto escaped the iron hand of architectural innovation, I cannot but positively assert that the chapter-house of Howden, when perfect, must have been the very essence of them all; and notwithstanding the inexhaustible display of ancient art which is introduced over the entire face of the design, as well on the outer parts as on those within, yet they are arranged in so judicious a manner, and varied with that magic skill, that no description can do its extraordinary merits justice, nor can any description convey sufficient marks of censure against those who have so insensibly left this charming object to perish. In the ruins of the south aisle of the choir are some vestiges of a chapel belonging to the Saltmasses. Here, among rubbish and weeds, are yet to be noticed one monument and two tombs belonging to the ancestors of this family. On the tombs are some remarkable statues finely sculptured ; two of them are knights armed and cross- legged ; and a third, a female in the same attitude. From commenting on these scenes my foregoing strictures are but too well warranted; and the more so, as it may be observed that descendants of the Saltmasses are still living, and living in this part of the country in affluence. It was but a very short time before I witnessed this unhallowed spot that a relative had been interred without any mark or memorial to point out the awful repository. In short, the whole appeared a shocking example of modern inattention, and neglect to the sacred remains of mortality ! Westminster. [1799, Part Z, pp. 92-94.] Since the reign of Henry VIII. every dilapidation committed on our ancient structures, and every neglect shown for their necessary i6 Architectural Innovation. repairs, whereby they were suffered to fall into ruins, may justly be considered as arising from this cause, architectural innovation. A love of novelty, and an unfeeling contempt shown for our sacred works of antiquity, which have been stigmatized with the barbarous name of Gothic, is the cause whereby the Roman and Grecian styles of architecture have been introduced into every line of building since that period, both public and private. Therefore, the admiration that has been conjured up in support of such styles has necessarily turned the genius of Englishmen from their national architecture, to toil in an inglorious and servile pursuit to imitate a foreign manner. Thus infatuated, they advise the destruction and alteration of edifices which it should be their height of ambition to protect and imitate. Hence we, who profess ourselves real antiquaries, and lovers of our country's former architectural glory, are constrained every- where to witness those devastating scenes, and those transformations wrought on our finest ancient works; and are continually forced to exclaim, in bitter reproaches, against the ruthless, savage, and interested pursuits of architectural innovation. Some attempts have been made of late years to introduce a mode of architecture, under a title which is truly significant: the enlightened designers call it Gothic architecture, a sort of taste which just glances at our ancient pointed arched style, and catches much from the Chinese manner, but abounds most with their own ideas. We behold this farrago of architecture, in various parts of the kingdom, set up in a kind of mock triumph in several new buildings, and set up in a way that is to be seriously deplored; I mean, where such ideas have been intruded into our ancient beautiful remains. I shall mention but one instance at present, and that very superficially, as I mean to take soon an opportunity to comment on it more at large. The instance, therefore, is the facades or fronts of the two courts of justice in Westminster Hall! Thus is one of the most august and extensive rooms in the world rendered mean and contemptible, and its royal walls curtailed of much of its surprising dimensions. How interesting, how truly sublime, would be the effect, if these fronts were removed, and two noble apartments erected beyond the south wall of the hall, for the purposes of national justice, and which might be seen through the arches under the range of those fine statues above of our ancient sovereigns — the whole work to be executed in strict conformity to the architecture of the hall! Then, indeed, might we boast of the sublimity of one of our national architectural glories. We hear of new erections on foot called "Gothic abbeys," and which, as they are announced, will rival all the works of antiquity; and, although there is to be a place which is to be called a choir, yet that part we usually assign for the communion-table is to be placed west- ward; but not a word of side-aisles, the body of the church, or Beverley Minster, Yorkshire. 17 transepts. To be sure, the figure of a cross, exemplified on the transepts, and the original and universal eastern situation of the altar, are but the superstitious plans and arrangements of the idle and ignorant religious in former ages, usually termed by our literati "the dark ages;" yet, by some unaccountable means, they contrived to construct those buildings which we wrong-sighted antiquaries presume to praise and defend. To pursue our modern inventors of new styles of architecture, we find every kind of novelty introduced among their ideas; and we are told, with the utmost assurance, that it is our ancient national style, "revived and improved," and "designed after a new manner."* How these contradictions are to be reconciled, we are yet to learn ; and either the patrons, or the workers in these strange mines of inconsistencies, must clear the dust of antiquity from the eyes of us its admirers; or else we must conclude innovation, baleful innova- tion, guides their architectural pursuits. Beverley Minster, Yorkshire [1790]. This superb structure in its general appearance much resembles our Abbey Church of Westminster, though its dimensions are not so extensive; yet the profuse display of enrichments seen on every part, and the perfect state of every object, make it a far more gratifying scene of ancient splendour than our venerable and national sepulchre of royal and noble characters. For, the truly ridiculous jumble of Roman and Grecian decorations intruded on the upper parts of its towers by Sir Christopher Wren, which performances evince how much that architect despised his country's native architecture, makes us turn our eye from those towers with disgust and regret. The church of Beverley has not escaped those invidious marks of contempt; -for we find the great tower in the body of the fabric terminated with an ogee octangular dome, having on each face a circular window. This departure from the work of the building is only to be accounted for by making its architect, the late Lord Burlington,! a worthy follower of the high fame of Sir Christopher. His lordship's skill in Roman and Grecian architecture is not con- fined to the exterior of this church; for we notice between the arches of the side-aisles of the nave, pews and galleries according to their rules. The screen entering into the choir is a performance since his lordship's day ; it is in the new and improved style of Gothic, and contains, notwithstanding, excellent statues, but dressed according to the fancy, or, as it is called, taste, of our modern sculptors, though * See Langley's " Gothic Architecture designed after a New Manner," exempli- fied in various elevations. + The ^information of his lordship's name I received from the people of the place. VOL. X. 2 i8 Architectural Innovation. these statues were intended by the donors to represent some illus- trious characters of former times. To speak of the original decorations of this church yet permitted to occupy their appropriate, and, no doubt, dear-purchased situation, is that first of models of ancient monuments,* wherein every effort that sculpture and masonry could combine are displayed in one great excellence. Here the divine forms of heavenly beings shine resplen- dent before us. The august figures of Edward III., Queen Philippa his consort, Edward the Black Prince, and other dignified characters, are everywhere portrayed. An infinity of basso-relievos and orna- mental enrichments are profusely displayed over every part of the monument. The excessive admiration excited by this national honour cannot be described; and we have only to observe that it was executed in the zenith of our pointed arched style's highest glory, the glorious days of Edward III. It was raised to the memory of a Lady Percy. Adjoining is a small chapel belonging to the same name, in which is a fine altar tomb of the family.t Although these monuments and chapel are in a tolerable state of preservation, yet, as some indispensable repairs (trifling in themselves with regard to expenditure) were found necessary to protect them from decay, application was made to a noble descendant, whose open hand and hospitable doors are now the theme of public praise ; yet, by some (we must suppose) informal method of proceeding, the application passed unheeded ! To soften the feelings of us antiquaries, we may call to recollection the public spirit, the ever-to-be venerated noble mind, % of that individual, who some years back, left for the repair of this pile a yearly income of considerable amount, and which is entirely expended during the course of the year on various repairs and other works necessary for so extensive a building. Nor let us pass by the magic efforts of that wonderful man,§ who, by his knowledge in mechanical powers, raised the whole of the front of the north transept to its original situation, which before hung four feet beyond its perpendicular position, and endangered the safety of the whole pile. These are the architectural pursuits demanding the applause of all, but, in particular, from us who have the preservation of our ancient structures so much at heart. Here we may awhile indulge our antiquarian pleasures, awhile forget those ruthless devastations which have so often embittered our studies, for which the contemplative mind of those who revere the history of their country, and who abhor innovation in whatever shape it may appear, are naturally formed. * See Gough's " Sepulchral Monuments," vol. ii. t Ibid. X I cannot call to recollection this benefactor's name. § William Thornton, 1739. Beverley Minster, Yorkshire. 19 [1799, Part /., pp. 189-191.] However strange the assertion may appear, yet it is too true, that the study of music at this day is confined to a very few, except those who follow it professionally. In the last century it was far otherwise; for we are informed* that it was as customary after meals to bring the music books to the table, for the use of the ladies and gentle- men^ as it is now to bring the bottles and the cards ! How fashion changes the tide of our enjoyments! I am not ashamed to own that I am an humble performer, and an enraptured admirer of harmonious sounds, such as Purcel raised or Handel created; therefore, it has ever been my particular object to notice every representation left us of our ancient musical memorials; from which observations I have drawn this conclusion : that, if we allow our ancestors to have excelled in the display of their enlightened genius, so wonderfully manifested in our ancient structures, that they must have had every accompanying object in the same high style of excellence; for it would be most unjust and most ungrateful in us antiquaries to suppose that they were deficient in every other science than those of architecture and sculpture, because at this day we have hardly any other remains of their bright efforts to decide from. Therefore, to elucidate the subject under discussion, divine music, I have observed that, from the various carvings of musical instruments, the ancient service of the Church must have been celebrated in every way adequate to the magnificence of the building ; I mean here to be understood as appertaining to the musical depart- ment. For the upper parts of their compositions I found trumpets, pipes, flutes, cruths, or fiddles; for the middle parts, viols, theorbs, larger flutes, etc. ; for the bass parts, double flutes, sackbuts, bass trumpets, and twisted horns or serpents. Of those instruments by which the full harmony or chords were given, were the harp of all sizes and forms, dulcimers, the regalls or small organs, and the large organs ; and for giving the grand uniting effect of the whole band, were tamborines, double drums, etc. From such a number and variety of musical instruments, can we suppose that they were used in a way derogatory to the general knowledge shown in every other embellishment made use of in our ancient scenes of pomp and magnificence? Why do I ask this question? Has it not been the general opinion, that our charming ancient structures were barbarous Gothic works; that our ancestors were savage, and without any taste for what is called the fine arts ; and that they were entirely ignorant of the art of the composition of music in parts? I have lived to see part of the veil torn from the dark mind of pre- * See Sir John Hawkins's " History of Music." f Corresponded by the various paintings of conversation-pieces of that time. 20 Architectural Innovation. judice, which had so long overshadowed the native beauties of our ancient structures ; and I may yet live to see the time when our ancestors may be allowed to have had the same refined taste to bring to perfection all the elegances of life as is presumed to be the case at the present day. As no assertions bring conviction without proofs, I shall describe the several musical instruments which are in the hands of the statues over the columns on each side of the nave of Beverely Minster.* The first, a female with a lute or cittern. Second, a man with a bagpipe. Third, an angel with a cymbal. Fourth, an angel playing on a crewth, or violin. Fifth, an angel with a lute or gittern. Sixth, an angel with a tamborine. Seventh, a man with a bass flute. Eighth, a man with a double flute, or shawn. Ninth, a man with a bass or double bagpipe. Tenth, a man with a harp. Eleventh, a man with a large tamborine. Twelfth, a female with a dulcimer. Thirteenth, a man with a small harp, of an uncommon form. Four- teenth, an angel with a very large cittern, defined probably as a tenor instrument. Fifteenth, an angel with a trumpet. Sixteenth, an angel with a small harp of a still more uncommon form. Seventeenth, a man with a tabor and pipe. Eighteenth, a man playing on a very large violin, as an instrument for the bass parts. As a conclusion to these ideas of our ancient music, I shall intro- duce that delightful and divine sentiment given by a reverend author, whose pen brings conviction to the heart and instruction to the mind ;t who, speaking of the music of the choir in ancient times, says : " Will anyone deny that such exterior means are a help to excite our languid piety ?" That such heavenly sensations, raised by the contemplation of our ancient memorials, may never know a change, let me give way to the impulse of the moment. In a day like the present, " when the infernal dispensers of liberty and equality " are spreading their destroying power over so many realms, and when this country, the favoured nation of Heaven, has hitherto escaped the direful contagion, it behoves every Englishman to come forward in the general cause, to protect his king and country, each in a way his ability enables him to perform, either by his person, his contributions, or his mental faculties ; and I know of no way that I can so well aid the general cause, as to stimulate my countrymen to think well of their own national memorials, the works of art of ancient times, and not hold up any foreign works as superior to our own \% and, in particular, the name of France should never be introduced, but to raise ideas of terror and destruction ! I presume my brother artists * See Carter's "Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. ii. + See the Rev. Mr. J. Milner's " History of Winchester," vol. ii., p. 83. % See J. Flaxman's "Address to the Royal Academy," p. 97. The Collegiate Church at Staindrop, Durham. 21 will not think me singular in this opinion, but join with me heart and hand in the praiseworthy pursuit which I have hinted to them. Then will our ancient remains of art, that everywhere meet our eyes (unviolated by modern innovation), remind us of the sublime genius of their authors; remind us of the heroic acts of those defenders of their country who brought perfidious France beneath their triumphant swords; remind us of our long race of sovereigns, the admiration and dread of surrounding nations, and remind us of our duty to our Creator, to ourselves, and to mankind. The Collegiate Church at Staindrop, Durham [1795]. Within these six or seven years stood in the centre of the choir the superb tomb of Lord Ralph de Nevil, a relative of the famous Lord Ralph de Nevil, who, under the command of Queen Philippa, consort of Edward III., defeated the Scots, assisted by the French (they having invaded this country), at the battle of Nevil's Cross, fought near the walls of Durham. This latter nobleman died in 1367. The former, whose tomb we are now going to speak of, founded this church, 1410; and, as a distinguishing mark of honour, it was placed as above described. It is now shoved into the south- west corner of the church, and in its place is raised up a gallery for the accommodation of Lord Darlington, the possessor of Raby Castle adjoining. So cruelly inattentive have been the workmen employed in its removal, that the beautiful small statues which decorated the niches on the side have been broken to pieces and thrown among the rubbish in the pews, and other uncleanly parts of the church. The statues of Lord Ralph de Nevil and his two wives, on the tomb, have lost their hands, their faces damaged, and various parts of the tomb have been shamefully mutilated. This is an innovation bitterly to be lamented, as the sculpture of the tomb and statues are in so high a style of excellence that no performances of any age or nation can exceed it.* And sorry I am to reflect, that this memorial of one of the family of the Nevils, who no doubt partook of the glory of saving his country in the battle above alluded to, should at this age of threatened invasion meet with so ominous a fate. Answers to Architectural Questions. " Window of six bays," and oriel window. The six bays appear to me to mean either the six sides of a decagon (a geometrical figure of ten sides) or the six divisions made by the tracery in our ancient windows ; the first reason, as appertaining to its plan, and the second reason applying to its elevation. The oriel window is generally understood to mean those projecting windows in our ancient halls whereby room is given for people to retire into them * See Gough's " Sepulchral Monuments," vol. ii. 22 A rchitectural Innovation. for conversation, and for views, as the other windows were too high (upon account of the accommodations under them for benches, tables, etc.) for any such purpose. Oriel windows may, perhaps, have some affinity to those chambers called the " bowers,*' or, as we call them now, closets or cabinets. Of bowers, take the following lines from an old song : * * Lady Annis the fate In her bower window, A kniting of her night coif," etc. Of the meaning of Gothic age and Gothic architecture I am entirely ignorant. I believe the word " Gothic " was invented as an ungrateful term of reproach and disgrace towards our beautiful ancient structures by the introducers of the Roman and Grecian styles in the reign of Henry VIII. If your correspondent will have the goodness to wait a few months, he will, I am given to understand, see an attempt made to show by actual examples, not theoretical supposi- tions, that the pointed style of architecture gradually, nay, almost imperceptibly, raised itself from the Saxon architecture by the common cause of accidental change of modes of workmanship ; and that it did not arrive to its pure state, undiverted of Saxon ideas, till after the reign of Stephen. The work I allude to is a publication in numbers, called " The Ancient Architecture of England."* How- ever, to give H. H. present information on the subject, I refer him to the "History of Winchester," just published, vol. ii., under the article of the Hospital of St. Cross ; where he will find a full, clear, and learned dissertation upon the interesting topic he wishes to be in- formed of, exemplified from the architecture of that celebrated fabric. Raby Castle, Staindrop. [1799, Part pp. 295, 296.] Raby Castle, which stands so near this town, has undergone within these few years many alterations. A new arrangement has been given to a part of its plan ; many of the exterior and interior decora- tions have been modernized, according to the received ideas of improving the works of our ancestors, by introducing those familiar architectural objects which professional men cannot dispense with. However, Raby Castle yet presents a noble and extensive scene of ancient splendour. Although we may express a wish that the marks above hinted had not been affixed to this superb pile ; yet, when we consider that the castle itself is still standing, still inhabited, and still in perfect repair, our admiration is excited at the good sense of the noble owner, who prefers the mansion of his ancestors to reside in, before the transitory villas of the present day, which only exist while the style of their architecture holds a momentary sway over the fluctuating taste of modern times. * Eight numbers are already published. Raby Castle, Staindrop, Durham. 23 The exterior of this castle is a striking example of the romantic turn of former days. The indescribable forms of gates, towers, walls, and buttresses that, at each adventurous step, meet the exploring eye, well reconcile our minds to give a willing belief to all the stories of warlike knights, of beauteous dames, of gallant tournaments, of noble feasts, of trophied halls, and painted bowers, that fill the pages of our books of chivalry ; nay, we are not insensible to the whispered tales of fairies, giants, ghosts, and spectres. Fantastic delusions of a soul entranced ! ye may surely there awhile hold your pleasing reign. If anyone deride these ideal charms, I shall answer, Raby Castle has no delights for him. I hope I shall not be too confident when I express my thoughts, that few of my readers will be found to con- template our castellated structures with other sensations than those which I have just raised to their imaginations. As I now glance over my several sketches of this castle, I am struck with the amusing irregularity of every part of the design ; while, like a labyrinth, its plan still eludes my eager expectation to find again the portal that first invited my curious investigation to trace the system that formed its various parts. I scarce give credit to the efforts of my pencil, when I find that most of the elevations of the walls have their lines inclining inwards; a peculiar and whimsical mode of masonry, though not without its use in point of giving strength to the building, and in giving a fine picturesque effect to the whole scene. At my leaving this interesting pile, I regretted that I had not been so fortunate as to have seen the great hall in its original state, before it was divided into two stories, as it now appears. The lower story presents a modern hail, with fancy columns, fancy groins, and all the fancied enrichments now in general practice. As for the upper story, its guise made so little impression on me, as, being solely intent on sketching the original works, that it has entirely slipped my memory. Wressel Castle, Yorkshire [1790]. The present Duke of Northumberland is, I believe, the owner of this castle, which to appearance shows but part of a more extensive building ; sl body and two wings being all that now exists ; yet their dimensions are so extensive, their apartments so various and so magnificent that, should an idea be conceived to revive its ancient fame, by making it one of the residences of his Grace, Wressel Castle would become once more the glory of this part of Yorkshire. At present, an honest farmer, his family, and the fruits of his industry are all the objects that occupy this silent mansion. In one chamber, appearing as an anteroom, I particularly noticed an elaborate carved door with basso-relievos, descriptive of some warlike deeds of the lords of this castle ; and another door, giving admittance 24 Architectural Innovation. to a double staircase, whereby two persons might ascend without seeing each other. The several state-rooms were finished in a style of the highest excellence of ancient art, as was the interior of a chapel adjoining. As I passed with awful sensations from room to room, gazing at the profuse display that every way caught my wondering eye, I could not but reflect on the mutability of human affairs. Here where once all the fascinating joys of honour, dignity, and splendour united in one bright example of old English hospitality, to charm an heroic age, I now only found cold and forsaken walls, darkened windows, and barricaded doors ; with creaking floors, sinking beneath the pressure of the husbandman's toils ! In one part of this melancholy pile, where the light had been in part excluded, I own I felt some trembling mementos, which, in such a situation and in such a frame of mind, few, I believe, would be insensible of: I heard — or, it may be, I thought I heard, some low hollow groans ! — which, as my tremor increased, soon lost their presaging sounds in distant air. Returning to that part of the castle inhabited by the farmer, I received much hospitable attention, which soon calmed my agitated mind ; and I bade farewell to this dreary abode, these sad remains of former greatness. I would not be supposed to give way to superstitious ideas ; but a presentiment surely possessed my senses when at Wressel Castle ; for, soon after that period, I read in the public prints that the whole fabric had been burnt to the ground ! [1799, Part L, pp. 392-395-3 The first studious impressions which we imbibe in our early years are from the proofs of Holy Writ, and from the historic records of our native country. Confining my impulses, at present, to the latter principle, and imagining that I address myself to those whose feelings are congenial with my own ; I exclaim, how did our youthful hearts glow when reading of the benevolent actions of the good and the heroic deeds of the great, of former ages ! how were our minds elevated, when contemplating on the piety and on the arts of those periods which first gave rise and perfection to those religious and other structures that are yet remaining in this kingdom, and within whose walls we were taught to believe were still preserved the monumental and other memorials of those royal, military, clerical, and learned characters, whose acts raised an emulation in our souls to follow their bright careers, and to venerate their sacred remains ! Our minds thus formed, how did we pant with eager expectation to witness those glorious scenes ! We first viewed the stupendous building, if sacred, with awe and astonishment ; then we explored The Abbey Church of Westminster. 25 these innumerable objects which everywhere decorated the hallowed fane, each by turns possessing every passion that holds a place within a feeling heart. We witnessed examples (either from sculpture or inscription) of filial duty, parental tenderness, connubial love, patriotic fervour, and royal munificence. We traced the hand of pious zeal and enlightened genius wheresoever we turn our delighted eye. Words are too weak to convey the sentiments which they inspired in our imaginations, then uncontaminated with that blind partiality which is now (unfortunately) the rage to profess for foreign arts. Foreign arts are allurements held out to deceive the good sense of Englishmen ; whereby they are taught to believe that in them consist all the embellishments of life. I would, in the present instance, be understood as speaking of architecture. Such of my countrymen who return from travel with these exotic prejudices can have but little share in the divine sensations above alluded to. And, alas ! I fear the true admirers of our national antiquities are but a few; for, however great the number of those who, in their early days, enjoyed the sublime rapture of proving the truth of those studies which informed them of the merits of their ancestors, yet, in their riper years, new pursuits arising, they mix with those swarms who (I would wish to believe only) affect to despise the productions of their own country, and are soon induced to hold in contempt those objects which they once so enthusiastically praised and admired. The Abbey Church of Westminster [1799]. The following remarks on the present state of this church are given from a very particular survey which I have taken on purpose for these essays; as it is one of the most important remains of our ancient fine arts, and of our historic evidences, that can possibly engage the attention of the lover of his country, the historian, the artist, or the antiquary. Presuming that the feelings of those readers, who have an interest in my task, will accompany me in the momentous visit to this mortal repository of English glory, and whose rising walls continually meet our eyes to remind us of the inexhaustible subjects they contain, I shall first excite their attention by observing it is with no common sensations that we approach this sublime assemblage of national sepulture, the distinguished scene of those eventful transactions which have rendered dear to Britons the memories of their great forefathers ! But, suspending these reflections, let us examine The North Side, where the first objects that arrest our attention are those habitations which block up and darken the north side of the choir. Here we must instantly wish (as this age is so remarkable for making improve- 26 Architectural Innovation. ments in this metropolis) that they were taken down, whereby we might command a general view from east to west of the whole edifice. These erections can have no claim to protection upon the plea of their being reliques of antiquity. But I consider that, had they been the remains of any of our ancient palaces, churches, or other public buildings, not being in immediate use, or not con- tributing to the emoluments of certain individuals, a breath from the devisers of modern convenience would in a moment have consigned them to oblivion ; else why are we continually forced to witness the rapid reverse of what London once was ? a fatal system, that will soon render its topographical publications but a confused mass of visionary accounts, without one document to warrant the truths which they set forth for public information. Who will credit that within our memories existed, in New Palace Yard, that part of Henry VIII. 's palace where his bed-chamber was situated ? that opposite to the west end of this abbey church stood an extensive gate of entrance into its precincts ? at Whitehall a grand gate of entrance ? in the Strand the vestiges of the palace of the Bishops of Durham, and near it the principal part of the magnificent palace of the Savoy ? still farther eastwards in this high-street of London, Somerset House ? Here we cannot repine, as its materials were purloined from the superb religious buildings that adorned Clerkenwell in the sixteenth century. In Holbourn, an entire palace belonging to the Bishops of Ely ? near the west end of St. Paul's, Ludgate ? at Grocers' Hall, a beautiful oriel window ? in Clerkenwell, the church belonging to a destroyed nunnery ? in Threadneedle Street, a curious ancient church called St. Mary Outwich ? in Bishopsgate Street, a noble mansion known by the name of Leather- sellers' Hall, and a religious structure under it ? at the end of Corn- hill, a vast range of buildings called Leadenhall ? I shall not here pursue this innovating list any farther, these being sufficient memoranda to show the state of public taste; which, I shudder to think, may be but the prelude to devastations of far greater moment. Resuming our survey of the Abbey, we find that the north front of the north transept has undergone a thorough architectural reforma- tion. The basement story contains three porches. In that to the west is introduced a square-headed doorway, and in the centre porch a double square-headed doorway. The tracery over it is ancient ; but has been recut according to those maxims which inspire modern workmen with the presumption that they can improve the perform- ances of our ancient artists. Much of the soffit of the arch of this porch has been recut. The other porch to the east (which has no doorway) remains in its original state. In the spandrils of the arches of these porches the compartments are in a new way, as is the open parapet above them. Great part of the four grand buttresses, with The Abbey Church of Westminster. 27 their niches, etc., on them, the compartments in the flying buttresses, and various other parts! of this front, have been recut. The north side of the choir appears in tolerable repair, and its parts remain unaltered. Henry VII.'s Chapel. We find the whole of the basement part of this chapel is in a damaged state. On its north side the windows are broken, their lower divisions stopped up, and their mullions hacked in every direction ; the flying buttresses and turrets have many of their parts destroyed, and the parapets to the two stories have been hacked likewise. On the east front the windows are broken, their lower parts stopped up, their mullions hacked, the turrets and parapets damaged, etc. On the south side the windows are broken, their lower parts stopped up, and their mullions hacked ; the parapets, turrets, and flying buttresses are likewise in a damaged state ; which circumstance in the latter objects is particularly to be regretted, as they are the great supporters to the upper story of the chapel. Viewing the windows of the upper story more attentively, I noticed that their mullions were kept from falling by boards having been bound upon them. Let us for a few moments consider this most extraordinary work of ancient art. Our astonishment increases as we trace the multiplicity of its enrichments. Our eyes cannot find a resting-place ; every space is occupied with compartments, tracery, ornaments, and devices, showing that the architect* was determined to extend his power to the extreme point of possible perfection. The south side of the choir of the church and east side of the south transept are in good repair, but appear to have been new faced. Adjoining the south transept stands the chapter-house; its form is octangular ; five of its sides have windows of an immense size, rising from the basement story to the parapet ; but they have been filled in with brickwork and modern small circular-headed windows. At each angle are flying buttresses, which take their rise from the ground line : they have likewise been filled in with brick- work. For the convenience of the dignitaries, a carriage-way has lately been cut through one of these filled-up flying buttresses, and the remaining courses of bricks supported by common perpendicular and horizontal planks. Returning to the north side of the church, we find the west front of the north transept, and the whole of the nave, in their original unaltered state, and in good repair ; some few of the battlements, indeed, have been renewed. We must not pass without remarking * Sir Reginald Bray, privy-counsellor to Henry VII. See his portrait in Carter's " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. ii. 28 Architectural Innovation. the damaged state of the basement part of this side of the building. The compartments of the base part of this front of this north-west tower are recut, and great part of the rest of the tower to the battle- ments of the church has been new faced. The continuation of the tower, from the battlements to the pinnacles, are entirely of Sir Christopher Wren's own work : the original west towers were never carried higher than the said battlements, they being left unfinished by Abbot Islip, West Front. The base part of the north-west tower recut ; the rest of the work, to a line with the battlements on the north side of the church, is in its original state; its corresponding parts on the south-west tower recut, and not without some tolerable degree of attention. The porch, confessedly a chaste and elegant design, is in its original state, but has been lamentably damaged, and that within a very short period. By-the-bye, we must notice the iron fence at its front, lately put up in consequence of a fatal catastrophe : an unfortunate man there put an end to his existence by shooting himself. I will not absolutely say that the above fence is a conveniency for those who may be inclined to hang themselves : of this let each beholder judge for himself. The canopies to the tier of niches over the porch appear recut, and over them is a scroll entablature and an open parapet in a new way. The great west window, and the parts on its sides, are in their original state. Over the point of the window is another open parapet in the new way. Behind this work we see the west end of the roof with a window in their original state. The upper parts of the tower are all new creations, and show new mouldings, new compartments, new windows, new open parapets, and new pinnacles ; likewise, new circular openings (some of them for the dial of the clock), with scroll-divided pediments, masks, and swags of fruit and flowers, foliage, etc. These new architectural ideas, placed on the ancient walls of this church, must either show that Sir Christopher beheld its style with contempt, or that we, at this day, are but degenerate sons in architectural studies, not to be sensible that there his marks are improvements on our ancient architecture. I for one am incorrigible, and hold that this weak side of his great professional abilities has thrown much of his well-raised temple of fame out of its beautiful perpendicular position, and left an ugly fracture, which no architectural panegyrist can ever make good, though their mortar may be tempered with all the flowers of rhetoric, or their trowel edged with all the Attic fire of wit and humour. The Abbey CImrch of Westminster. 29 [1799, Part /., pp. 445"448.] Abutting against the south-west part of the west front of the church is the north front of the Jerusalem Chamber. The upper finishing has been repaired with brick battlements. Proceeding westwards, we find some small remains of ancient buildings. At the angle leading to Dean's Yard, part of an interior wall of the great gate of entrance into the precincts of this church is still visible, and which is considered by those artists who study the picturesque antiquities of this country a choice example to guide their judgments in giving their works the " sober gray tint " so characteristic of our national buildings. In the modern gateway leading into Dean's Yard ancient doors have been preserved, as have similar doors in the modern gate- way at the southern extremity of the said yard. Dean's Yard. On the north side we see the south front of the Abbey-house (now the Deanery), where one of the original windows has had some slovenly repairs, and two sashed windows have been introduced. On the east side is a farther continuation of the Abbey buildings, which, with the Abbey-house, were erected by Abbot Islip. They must, when in their original state, have been a range of much architectural grandeur, as will appear to any minute observer; but have of late years been so metamorphosed by modern doors, sash windows, brick parapets, and chimneys that, from a slight view, I am persuaded, of these piece-patched walls, the eye would have turned from them with contempt and derision ! We may notice, however, three of the ancient doorways, and two or three of the smaller windows, with several others which have been stopped up. The south side presents a melancholy scene indeed ! Here let me quote a few lines from the " Anti-Wyatist," p. 211 : " I have ever heard it remarked, on the site where once religious buildings stood, and have read in various authors, that a fatality had always attended those whose arms had destroyed them, and those who had given the dire command !" The modern buildings, then, on the south side, were never entirely finished ; and their builder (I believe I am correct) ended a life in extreme misery and despair ! We behold them dropping by piece- meal into rubbish, and in tottering suspense, waiting theirt premature termination. On the south side are a variety of miserable habitations of all dimensions, raised at different periods since the sixteenth century. In the open space of the yard the ground is left in an un- levelled state, from much of the rubbish there remaining of the dormitory of the religious of this monastery, which, within the memory of many still living, appeared an erection of much conse- quence. 30 A rchitectural Innovation. The Abbey-house. This is entered from the north-east angle of Dean's Yard, where we first find an avenue of much simple grandeur leading to the cloisters ; but on the left hand of this avenue is a smaller one giving admittance to a courtyard, the south side of which has received a sash-window. The west side, which gives the Abbot's Hall, has like- wise partaken of some modern intrusions. The north side is un- altered, and the east side shows a range of late erections. The west side of the hall itself is perfect, except its battlements, which, with those on the building in continuation, have been modernized. The interior of the hall has undergone some alteration in the gallery at the south end, and at the north end, where are modern paintings ; under the windows is modern wainscoting, etc. The north side of the courtyard just mentioned leads to the Jerusalem Chamber through two other chambers, which are in their original state, with painted windows (of arms), doors, a chimney-piece, and a curious small niche near the door of the Jerusalem Chamber ; which having entered, we see only the window at the north end (containing some paintings) remaining. Sash-windows, a coved ceiling, doors, panel-work, stuc- coed ornaments, chairs, tables, a carpet, and a stove in the modern style, are the objects now that claim attention, and almost banish the recollection that this chamber is rendered awfully interesting in history ; for here Henry IV. breathed his last sigh. This chamber, however, is not without some curious decorations : the chimney-piece is of Elizabeth's time ; and on the walls on each side of it are hung some good pieces of tapestry. But, on turning towards the entrance of the chamber, our highest admiration is excited at witnessing that beautiful historic treasure, the whole-length portrait of Richard II.,* which, before the choir was fitted up with the present stalls, pews, etc. (in a new mode of architecture), stood near the situation of the pulpit. How must the English artist enjoy the pleasing satisfaction of seeing this almost only remaining example of the state of painting of former times ! The historian must likewise feel his share of delight when he reflects that he can at least introduce one semblance of our ancient monarchs into his learned and instructive pages. Although in this chamber the business of the chapter is transacted, yet it still retains its original name, the Jerusalem Chamber, which, with the hall above, were erected by Abbot Littlington in 1300. Returning into the courtyard, we cannot but particularly observe in the smaller avenue a modern doorway, which leads into that part of the building inhabited by the Dean. What ideas must the builder of it have conceived when he set up this object as a work of compe- tition with the sublime examples which everywhere shone around him within the walls of these religious structures ! * See Carter's " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. The Abbey Church of Westminster. 31 The Cloisters. Having passed through the avenues, we come at once into these grand structures, where, turning into the west cloister on the left, we find one of the windows has lost its mullions and tracery, and that one of the divisions to the south (once entirely open into the Abbey- house) has been in part stopped up. The north cloister unaltered. The east cloister unaltered. Of the superb entrance into the chapter- house from this cloister we shall take particular notice when we make our visit to that noble room. South cloister not perfect ; for the rich doorway entering into the refectory towards its western extremity has been shamefully deprived of some of the sweeping lines of its arch to give room for workmen to pass in and out of this side of the cloisters. We find that those very curious recesses near it, where the linen for the use of the religious after meals was hung, has likewise had much of the tracery over them obliterated by a common mural monument stuck up against its principal sweeps, as if there were not vacant spaces enough for such purposes in any other of the divisions of these cloisters. And we also find that the mullions and tracery from six of the eight windows in this cloister have been entirely cut away. I have been informed that, about six or seven years ago, a plan was set on foot to deprive these cloisters of the mullions and tracery in their several windows, but for what purpose I could not learn ; nor could I learn the name of him who first proposed such an under- taking ; at least, not with that certainty that my curiosity in this instance violently led me to desire. The workmen had proceeded to destroy the six windows already recounted, and then they desisted. Of the reason of this suspension I could likewise get no information. Indeed, I learned that several of the inhabitants of Westminster, though not like their noble and spirited ancestors in Edward VI. 's reign, who rose in a body to resist the workmen of the Protector Somerset when they had begun to assail this very church for the purpose of getting materials towards constructing his new buildings in the Strand ; yet, with a laudable and becoming zeal for the preserva- tion of their venerated fabric, they strongly remonstrated, by letters and otherwise, against so useless and dangerous an innovation. To this I can with confidence assert, that, had the attempt been made on the north cloister, where its walls, arches, groins, mullions, and tracery are so entirely connected with the south side of the nave of the church, it might in all probability have been of the most serious consequence ; for this north cloister is in that state for want of re- pairs that the violent means which must have been used to cut away the (offending) mullions would have weakened it still more ; when, instead of taking away any of its component parts, additional masonry should be added to it. These assertions are not given on light 32 Architectural Innovation, grounds : they indeed are but too true ; and those who wish to satisfy themselves in this instance need but strictly examine this cloister for that purpose. In these cloisters I have passed (perhaps) some of the most rational hours of my life. In each renewed perambulation round its endless aisle, I still found my thoughts ever receive some new sensations. The wonderful infinity of the various enrichments, the pleasing diversity of Time's long- worn tints, the enthusiastic diffusion of light and shade, the enchanting recollection of passed eras, all filled my enraptured imagination with ideas too exquisite for description. Surely the divine Milton when he wrote these lines, u But let my due feet never fail To walk the studious cloister pale," must have been sensible to the " delights " of these silent and these solemn aisles — delights which, no doubt, contributed to aid his sublime genius, which soared on angel-wings to worlds above. Forgive me, readers, for having a while detached my mind from our several observations, which we will now continue by regretting to see the walls of these cloisters hung with modern monumental memorials, whereby their forms are in many instances intruded upon or cut away; to see them converted into play-walks for "unreproved" headstrong youth ; to see their wanton and mischievous hands con- tinually damaging the several parts of the work; and to see with sorrowing eyes the sad, neglected state of these our much-loved scenes ! I may here mention that Abbot Littlington likewise erected the south and west cloisters. In the former are the gravestones of Abbots Vitalis, Crispinus, Laurentius, and Gervaise, which are all the ancient memorials that are now to be found in these cloisters. [1799, Part 7/., pp. 576-579-1 At the east end of the south cloister we find an avenue with plain walls, and a single-arched headway, running on part of the west side of a large ancient building (its extreme length north and south) con- sisting of two stories. The basement story serves as an undercroft, arranged into several divisions in length, and two in breadth, decorated with columns, rich sculptured capitals, and semicircular groined arches. As the work is entirely Saxon, I conceive it to be some of the religious edifices erected here by Edward the Confessor, before the present surrounding walls were raised by Henry III. and the abbots of this church; and the rather, as we are informed by history that Hugolin, steward to Edward, was buried here. The two first divisions northward, and nearly adjoining the chapter-house, are separated from the others by a wall, wherein formerly was kept the regalia of our sovereigns ; but now only the standard-money is The Abbey Church of Westminster. 33 deposited ; which, when there is a new master of the mint, is taken out to be carried to the Exchequer for a trial of the pix. Since the writing of my last paper, in one of my usual visits to the cloisters, I saw its double doors of this first division opened for the above- mentioned purpose, which opportunity has enabled me to give the above description of its architectural parts. I likewise noticed, at the east end of the first division, a complete altar-table raised on two steps, which of late years has been erroneously called the tomb of Hugolin, with a curious piscina on its right side. The short time allowed for the purpose of taking out the money, and the confusion caused from a crowd of people who had entered, prevented me from paying attention to the infinite number of lockers and chests that nearly filled the place, and from making those memorandums which such a repository of antiquities would have afforded. I saw the double doors again closed, and fastened by seven locks, each lock a different key, and each key a different possessor, who were all assembled on this occasion, which to me, as an antiquary, and who had never enjoyed such a sight, was particularly gratifying. The third and fourth divisions of this undercroft serve for offices to one of the dignitaries of the church, and of course are seen in common ; the other divisions have been much altered, and are turned into lumber- places. The second story is one entire room, and is used as a school by the Westminster scholars. The upper part of the walls are repaired with brickwork, and modern windows have been inserted ; and the roof is an open timber one, appearing as a performance of the sixteenth century. We now pass through part of the undercroft southwards into The Little Cloisters, of which only the interior walls, with one or two doorways and windows, are remaining; the rest of the erections are entirely modern. However, that we might not repine too much at such a change, one of the doorways on the east side is left us as a fine example of the pointed arch style. In the garden behind this door- way are several rich Saxon columns and arches, which I saw in 1788, some sheds having been taken down that hid them from the public eye ; but they were soon immured again by a small office-room which has been built up against these curious remnants of antiquity. Was there no other space either to the right or left for the purpose of constructing a common room without fixing on this spot ? How true is the remark that what is considered as precious to one man is of no value in the estimation of another ! Near this part of the cloister is a small chamber, or (not unlikely) a chapel of a remote date, remaining nearly in an unaltered state. vol. x. 3 34 Architectural Innovation. The Abbey Tower and Walls. From the parts of the Abbey buildings just described we find a wall running eastwards to Abingdon Street, where is a large square tower, built by Abbot Littlington, called the Treasury, now used to contain the records of the House of Lords. Its appearance has been greatly changed on the outside ; and within we find no remains in any of the stories of its original finishing except in the basement story. Here I am almost in doubt if I should recount that the whole of its parts are in the finest style of our ancient pointed archi- tecture; and I shall scarcely gain credit when I observe that so masterly a performance of our ancient artists is now converted into a kitchen ! From this tower the said wall continues south to College Street, then returns westwards to the Bowling Alley, where it meets one of the modern (or rebuilt) gateways before mentioned. This wall, we may suppose, once continued round Dean's Yard, and united itself with the two other gateways, which have likewise been spoken of; thence it took its course round the northern extremity of the Church, where, at the back of the houses in St. Margaret's Church- yard, we may still find some vestiges. Its line may be farther pursued to remnants of gateways visible on the west side of King Street. Of the ditch that encircled these walls many people yet remember some part of it in College Street ; and its memory was retained till of late in that street leading from the west part of the Abbey to Storey's Gate, by the name of Long Ditch, now called Princes Street. The Refectory. This pile flanks the whole of the south great cloister, and we enter into its walls through the rich doorway which we before regretted to see in so damaged a state. But this is a trifling consideration in comparison to the universal havock wrought on this once-magnificent building ; another work of the enlightened Abbot Littlington. Here we can only find its north side in being in any degree to form a con- jecture of its original design, which shows nine finely-proportioned windows, and between them blockings of supporting angels for the springing timbers of the open-worked roof. From which evidences, and the immense dimensions of its site, we may not idly presume that it rivalled its near competitor for architectural fame, West- minster Hall. In this spot, the sumptuous scene of ancient repasts, where the profuse banquet for royalty, or the moderate board for the religious, was set forth, must in each instance have been an interesting sight, either from the splendour of the noble guests, or the calm and peace- ful order of its pious inhabitants. Alas ! the scene is changed indeed ! Here we now only witness a carpenter's rubbish yard and workshop, The Abbey Church of Westminster. 35 instead of the once-elegant open-worked roof, niches, galleries, screens, painted windows, stalls, tables, forms, and doors ; briars, nettles, weeds, and thorns, for the refined pleasures of the generous feast, the social hearth, the restraining admonition, the brotherly salutation, the cheerful dialogue, and all the unembittered sensations that holy converse can inspire. The Chapter-house, the entrance to which is from the east great cloister through a double archway. The work is profuse and exquisite. How is our just indignation raised at beholding the ravages of those savage hands, which have destroyed the statue of the Virgin, which stood on a bracket in the centre of the design, and nearly so the accompany- ing angels on each side !* We shall not call those who have set up an insignificant mural monument where the Virgin was placed, either savage or sacrilegious ; but we will hold them as beings incapable of feeling for the " ancient sculptural honours of their own country and as such we leave them. Passing through the right-hand arch- way, we proceed along a double avenue of columns and arches (the left-hand archway, with that side of the avenue, has of late years been partitioned off). We come into a second avenue of a superior style of grandeur, its groins rising to a great height ; a flight of steps brings us to the double archway entering into the chapter-house itself. This double archway has had its dividing columns in the centre, with nearly all its open tracery (in the manner of the chapter- houses of Wells and Southwell) cut away. Its design is a continua- tion of that elaborate perfection which we have viewed from the cloister. It really is mortifying that, at every step, I must be obliged to note the mean use or alteration that is made on each charming object that attracts our admiration. This second avenue is so disfigured by presses, chests, and lumber j so partitioned off for office-rooms, etc., that it is with the utmost difficulty I can restrain my rising thoughts. Well, we are now within the chapter-house. We have attentively examined every part, and find that five of the eight sides of its octangular form, which were each nearly open in one large window, have had their tracery filled in with brickwork and small modern semicircular-headed windows. The tracery in two of the remaining blank sides has been cut away, the groins destroyed to a small portion, which is yet springing from the delicate and delightful cluster of eight columns in the centre, and which arched to the several angles of the structure, where a few portions of their mouldings may be observed. In all probability, the seats, stalls, and other decorations against the lower part of the walls may yet be remaining ; but the presses that occupy the entire face of the several * See Carter's "Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. 3—2 36 Architectural Innovation. sides block them up from the view of those few who may visit this once celebrated place. In truth, the building is most materially altered from its original magnificent display, by these presses, and various galleries, for the safe keeping of the records of the Treasury of the court of the receipt of the Exchequer. Here common observers will find little to admire but modern carpenters' work, vast rolls of parchment, dust and rubbish, and the famous Domesday Book composed in the reign of William the Conqueror. Among the many reflections that here occur, is one for the extreme danger that attends the cluster of columns in the centre by the modern hanging, or false floor, whose centrical part rests on the remnant of the groins springing from it. However, had this con- venient prop escaped the consideration of architectural innovation, in all probability this enchanting cluster of columns would have shared the fate of the other parts of the structure, which owes its foundation to that munificent monarch Henry III. It is understood that in the reign of Edward III. this chapter-house was used for the purposes of Parliament, and continued in that state for succeeding gener- ations. The South Side of the Church appears to have received much new facing and many new battlements, The west side and south front of the south transept are unaltered excepting the finishing of the small towers at its south front, which terminate with domes. The examinations of these parts of the church are made from the area of the cloister, where a striking view is had of this side of the building. We may, if so inclined, take a look at the east side of the Deanery in its modern state, and may also take a look of pity on the north side of the ruinated refectory. In the south-east angle of this area, and near to the work of the cloister, was discovered, in 1794, a few feet from the surface of the ground, a subterraneous passage, or aqueduct, running from north- west to south-east. I observed its headway had the pointed arch- sweep, which towards its south-east end dropped considerably, and the continuation was, through a lower pointed avenue, a pointed- headed doorway; about 10 or 12 feet were only explored either way, and the chasm was then filled up. I conjectured that this work was for the purpose of conveying the water from the buildings into the ditch without the walls, and from thence into the Thames. My opinion was strengthened by its direction bearing towards the ancient walls on the south side of the House of Lords ; which, when I come to speak of the present state of the palace of our ancient sovereigns at Westminster (which, I am shocked to observe, is publicly announced will soon become a prey to the iron hand of architectural innovation), I shall be particular in ascertaining. The Abbey Church of Westminster. 37 [1799, Part II., pp. 667-670.] Having described the state of the exterior of this church, and of the several erections which remain belonging to it, we will now pass, through the west door, into The Nave of this hallowed pile ! We are instantly struck with the charming proportions of every part, rising in majestic beauty, till our uplifted eyes, wandering over the ribs and groins crowning the design, are, by a kind of holy impulse, carried beyond the limits of this earth to view the realms of endless bliss ! It is not improbable but in this situation the inspired Milton received those enraptured sensations, when he composed these lines, which can never be too often repeated : " But let my due feet never fail, To walk the studious cloister's pale ; And love the high embowed roof, With antique pillars massy proof, And storied windows, richly dight, Casting a dim religious light ; There let the pealing organ blow To the full-voic'd choir below, In service high and anthem clear ; And let their sweetness through mine ear Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heav 'n before my eyes." Oh, Music ! thou balm to every woe, thou harbinger to every joy ! — Descending from these enthusiastic reveries, we too soon witness (as our eyes resume an horizontal direction) the confused hetero- geneous jumble of undigested and unarranged monumental objects, many of which, like foul excrescences, disfigure and destroy the fair form and regularity of the basement part of the structure, as but a few of the recesses remain. As a proof how modern workmen restore our ancient works, as they term it, a pitiful attempt has been made, on each side of Major Andre's monument, to supply some of the bases, columns, and their capitals : I would wish this attempt to be noticed. On each side of the west end of the nave were rich screens, partitioning off the western extremities of the side aisles for peculiar purposes ; that on the north side is in part visible, its obstructive monumental usurper not taking up the whole of its dimensions. Entering through the door of this screen into the afore- said partitioned part, now used as a ringing-room, we notice, turned topsyturvy on the pavement, the mutilated elegant font, that till lately stood in the south transept ; but its room being wanted for a modern monument, it was forced to resign its appropriate situation (as have some of the finest ancient memorials in this church on the like 38 Architectural Innovation. occasion, which we shall not pass unnoticed, at the proper opportunity of bringing such practices into discussion.) The screen on the south side has been entirely taken away within these few years, and in its place is heaped up a prodigious mass of stones, worked into forms, at once showing the sculptural taste of the present day, and the architectural system of improving on the ancient architecture of this kingdom. So prevailing is the desire of individuals that their memorials should be stuck up in this church, or so prevailing a kind of decora- tion are they to some particular feelings, that great part of the windows are blocked up and darkened by these materials, drawn from the statuary's and mason's workshops. Here let me except those unrivalled performances that will for ever perpetuate the name of Roubiliac. The great west window is full of modern painted glass, catching the general gaze for its glare of colours ; the reverse of that still display of tints in ancient glass, " casting a dim religious light," and which, by turning towards the eastern part of the church, may be well exemplified. The compartments below the west window have had, since the last commemoration of Handel, a gray wash laid over them. None can possibly contradict me in saying that, had this sample been continued on every part of the building, a good job would have fallen to the lot of some one or other, but it certainly would not have been a beautifying work; no, I confidently pronounce such an undertaking would have sullied and disgraced all the glories of this transcendent place. I have a heartfelt satisfaction in men- tioning that there is one religious structure in the kingdom that stands in its original finishing, exhibiting all those modest hues that the native appearance of the stone so pleasingly bestows, and which so well harmonises with the various objects which they have given to our wondering sight. This structure, then, is the Abbey Church of Westminster, my first and most admired work of ancient art : I have often viewed the other stupendous piles in this country, have adored their several excellences, yet still here I find my happiness the most complete. In fact, then, this church has not been whitewashed ! I make little scruple in declaring, that this job-work, which is carried on in every part of the kingdom, is a mean makeshift, to give a delusive appearance of repair and cleanliness to the walls, when, in general, this wash is resorted to, to hide neglected (or perpetrated) fractures, and, while a sort of opinion is begged to approve its short state of gaiety, its admirers soon repent of their attention to so unpleasant an obtruder on their persons. In the windows of the partitioned parts of the west ends of the aisles of the nave (above mentioned) are some fragments of the old glass, which are all that remain at this part of the church (no doubt, in Milton's time these windows shone with great part of their first enrichments, or else we should not have had his picturesque descrip- The Abbey Church of Westminster. 39 tion). These made-up effigies are said to represent Edward the Confessor and Edward the Black Prince.* Adjoining the partitioned part in the south aisle, on a line with the windows, is an ancient gallery, for the use of the abbot's household in viewing the pro- cessions, and now occupied by the dean's family for the like purposes. A modern door gives admittance to it ; the least that is said of it, and of the accommodation in the said gallery, will the better prevent the public from reflecting how ill it accords with the dignity of the fabric. Since I have begun the survey of this church, I find two or three of the broken windows to the first story of Henry VII.'s chapel have been mended, but with the loss of some of their mullions. It is generally understood that the chapter has no obligation to do any more to this chapel than keep the roof and windows in repair, that is, to keep out the wind and weather ; other repairs belonging to the Crown. Surely, if the august and munificent patron of the fine arts and of antiquity saw, or was made properly acquainted with, the state of this chapel, the architectural wonder of his kingdom, and the sepulchre of his ancestors, he would command that more attention should be bestowed on it. Ere we proceed, let me devote a few moments to contemplate on the monument of Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Townshend. Here I recall my juvenile years, when it was my lot to have often the opportunity of witnessing the execution of the design. I then loved the hand that gave form to the yielding marble ; I now revere his memory, deeper engraved on my heart than on that part of the monument allotted to perpetuate the name of the sculptor. In the pavement there are no ancient gravestones or brasses to be met with. The North Transept. Three of the divisions of the eastern aisle were originally partitioned off into chapels, dedicated to St. Michael, St. Andrew, and St. John ; now we see nearly the whole space, and the site of their several altars, occupied with monuments, face to face, and back to back, striving which shall have the greatest portion of elbow-room, and setting at naught the old idea, that the statue of the deceased should front the east. Here we might naturally suppose that this building is now esteemed as a receptacle for memorials alone, without any consideration of the purposes for which it was at first erected.t In the second division of the west aisle stood the font above mentioned, which is now, with the first division to the north, filled with gigantic modern monuments j and the third division will soon * See Carter's " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. f See a late description of the public buildings of London, by a foreigner ; where all he has to say of Westminster Abbey is, that it is a place where fine monuments are to be seen ! 4Q A rchitectural Innovation. be occupied in the same manner by a monument which is in great forwardness. Thus, in time, what with covering the walls, and filling up the several divisions of the arches round the church with these monuments, there will be very little left, for admiration or con- veniency, of the basement part of the design ; however, as there is no evil without some good attached to it, these piles of marble will at any rate prevent the clusters of columns supporting these arches from falling against each other, whatever they may do by throwing them out into the body of the building. This transept seems to be a favourite spot for monuments, for we discover one has found its way up to the first gallery on the north side; where, not content with the new station, but it must supplant the forms of the columns and arches with trophies and palm- branches. In the pavement of the above three chapels are some gravestones, but their brasses are gone, and I believe very lately. The South Transept. Here likewise we repine at seeing the order of the basement part of the building broken in upon for the setting up of the several monuments, which are mostly in memory of learned and ingenious men : hence its modern name, ' Poets' Corner,' whereby we lose the thought if ever here were any chapels dedicated to holy martyrs or saints. But the most reprehensible stroke of architectural innovation is that where we perceive a common monument placed on the finishing of the doorway entering into the chapel of St. Blaze, now the vestry. How insulting is it to hear it affirmed by some, that we are now awaking to a due sense of the refined beauties of our ancient works, and at the same time behold their disgrace, as is apparent in the doorway now noticed. Somewhere in this transept was St. Catharine's Chapel, wherein Henry III. caused the great anathema to be read against all violators of this church. The monument pretended to be for Chaucer must have been set up as late as Henry VIII. 's time ; by reason of its being placed north and south, its despoiling the recesses, its style of architecture, and its inscription. Though they have made the statue of the immortal Shakespeare turn its back to that part of the heavens where his divine soul, when on this earth, must have ever bowed to receive his portion of inspiration, yet we find the sublime genius of Roubiliac soaring to its highest pitch in the composition, arrangement, and execution of the monument of the godlike Handel. I own, though, it owes all its blaze of perfection to modern times, yet I feel its magic power in the same enraptured way as from the finest reliques of antiquity. I see the statue of this more than man turning his eyes to where the The Abbey Church of Westminster. 41 Eternal Father of heaven is supposed to sit enthroned, " King of kings and Lord of lords," and holding up these words, the Christian's hope, " I know that my Redeemer liveth 1" Indulge me, my friends, with introducing the following lines prefixed to a design for a building to be erected in memory of Handel : " To thy great name I dedicate this pile, Who hast so charm'd this wond'ring list'ning isle, With notes harmonic, which still rend the sky, While modern untun'd strains in discords die ; The chief of all the choirs thou stand'st confest Of lower worlds. In scenes of endless rest, Handel, thou sure art highly placed among (In awful state) the bright angelic throng. For, oh ! no mortal more deserv'd the skies, Who hast made millions, with uplifted eyes, Adore their Maker ; tun'd by thee to sing The praises of our mighty heavenly King." [1799, Part II. , pp. 733-736.] Before we proceed on the examination of the rest of this church, we must not neglect noticing an ancient gravestone in the south transept, still permitted to remain ; the brass is gone, but the form indented on the stone shows an armed figure standing on a lion, and a border for an inscription. It is pointed out to be in memory of John Haule, who was slain before the high altar in the reign of Henry III. East Aisle of the Choir. The first chapel at its south-west extremity is St. Benedict's. We read that its screen was destroyed when Dryden's monument was put up. The site of the altar is hid by a monument of the 16th century. Near the centre of the chapel we find the monument of Archbishop Langham, in a situation not only appropriate, but in no way obtruding on the symmetry of the building. This example impresses on us the more forcibly the present custom of cutting away the several niches under the windows for the conveniency of sticking up the modern monuments. In a space of the wall between this chapel and the succeeding one is the monument in memory of Richard, John, and Henry, children of Henry III. On the flat of this tomb, the missal of the former service of the church has given place to the ledger, containing an account of moneys received for admittance to see the wax-work, etc.; which collection is made for the payment of the salaries of the choir and their inferior officers. In most other religious structures, the choristers, I believe, are supported out of the revenues of the church. St. Edmund's Chapel. — The screen was thrown down by the pro- digious crowd on the night of the funeral of the late Duchess of 42 Architectural Innovation. Northumberland. I well remember I had, just before the accident, been admiring its tracery and open compartments. It was indeed set up again, that is, so much of it as was not damaged ; and the rest of the work, from an apprehension that it would be attended with some expense to repair, was thrown aside. The tombs of John of Eltham, William of Windsor, and Blanch of the Tower; William de Valence, Earl of Pembroke ; the monument of Sir Bernard Brocas ; and the brasses of Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, and Robert de Walbye, Bishop of Durham, must come under our observation with great satisfaction, as they are in a tolerable state of repair, and stand clear of the reproach which we are compelled to vent on modern monuments for breaking in on the regularity of the building. This one happy circumstance, united to the ancient memorials, will accompany us in our contemplations round this church ; and the chaste disposition of such objects will apply in general to every ancient religious building in the kingdom. On the tomb of Valence, some few years past, was raised a most beautiful canopy of stone- work. The site of the altar is hid by a monument of the present century. Here are several other monuments placed in the same innovating style. The Chapel of St. Nicholas. — Here again the sixteenth-century monuments show their incongruous arrangement, hiding the site of the altar and the whole of the recesses. Nearly in the centre of this chapel stood the tomb of Philippa, wife of Edward Duke of York, grandson of Edward III., with an exceeding rich canopy of wood- work, till the erection of the late Duchess of Northumberland's monument ; when, for the accommodation of making a family-vault, it was shoved to the north side of the chapel, and its canopy heaped (in broken pieces) into the rubbish of the church. Passing under that inundating torrent of enrichments, Henry V.'s chantry, we come to the chapel of St. Paul. The screen has lately been destroyed, to make room for a modern monument. The site of the altar and the recesses are hid by various monuments. The remarkable monument of Lord Bouchier, standard-bearer to Henry V., arrests our curiosity. This lord, no doubt, shone one of the heroic examples in Henry's warlike band of Britons, the con- querors of France ! Notwithstanding this monument is an incite- ment to emulation, it only waits the flat — " We want its room." Perchance the statue of some overgrown nabob, or some harpy fattened on the widow's and orphan's tears, may soon be elevated on its overthrown glories, conquered by interest and innovation. The Chapel of St. Erasmus. — If ever the chisel of our ancient artists had brought their art to its summit of perfection, if ever excess knew its utmost bounds, the recess over the entrance into this chapel is a most striking proof of their enlightened genius, and their extra- ordinary skill. Well could I lament away an age for the irreparable The Abbey Church of Westminster. 43 loss this recess has cruelly sustained, by cutting away parts of its work for the purpose of introducing a despicable performance of some low-hoveled cutter of monumental memorials. The deed being done, invective, chagrin, or public indignation are alike fruitless ; therefore with a sigh we will note what other ravages await our offended sight. We find, as in the other chapels, the site of the altar hid by a monument of the seventeenth century. On the south side are the tombs of Ruthall, Bishop of Durham ; William de Colchester and George Flaccet, Abbots of Westminster ; and on the west side is the tomb of Sir Thomas Vaughan. These ancient tombs, it is true, have hitherto escaped the fate of being destroyed ; but have not escaped the mortifying insults of dilapidation, neglect, and contempt. Islifts Chapel, — This captivating work, in memory of that great character who assisted in the completion of the western part of the fabric, has been for some years converted into the rubbish-hole of the church (this convenient receptacle in our religious buildings has been repeatedly pointed out in these essays), and its screen backed up with deal-boards. From among the rubbish we can perceive that the site of the altar is hid by an Oliverian monument ; and against the west side are raised up what is called the "ragged regiment." This "ragged regiment" is the remains of the wooden blocks, and the leather and wooden effigies of personages who have been buried in this church, which at their funerals were carried in procession, dressed in the most splendid robes of the deceased. We read of several instances, particularly at the obsequies of Henry V. The "ragged regiment" have had various quarters assigned them during my time. I first wondered at them in a press in Islip's chantry ; next, I drew from them in Henry V.'s chantry ; and now I pity their con- signment to oblivion, by seeing them thrown in amongst the dust and lumber of this degraded chapel. In the chantry over it are several presses with wax-work figures ; which, as they show some popular modern characters, are kept in great order and cleanliness. These figures, independent of the transcendent glories of the building, have, with those of a like composition in other situations in this part of the church, proved a fund of some small emolument to the inferior members of the choir, as we have before mentioned. In returning from these chapels along the east aisle of the choir, we may perceive, in the pavement near Islip's chapel, the brass of Abbot Estney, and the brass of a knight, the inscription gone. Several gravestones likewise meet our eyes, which from their indents show they must once have had very rich brasses. Before we visit the choir, we will return to the west end of the nave, for the purpose of conceiving some idea of the grand effect that the east end of the choir would have, if that preposterous decoration the organ-case was not in the way, to disappoint our long-drawn inquiring sight. Con- sidering these favourite objects in our choirs in the most partial light, 44 A rchitectural Innovation. are they not a huge, dark, unmeaning something, militating against every architectural rule, which is, that all the decorative parts should be in uniform with the fabric they are introduced into ? Though this organ-case contains the soul of harmony, yet its heavenly sounds would be as well heard if it were placed against the side arches (as formerly) as in its present position. Let us, then, imagine this organ removed, and the present entrance into the choir restored to its original appearance, then should we have the finish of the altar-screen (I mean, if the original one were visible) appearing above it ; beyond which a considerable portion of Edward the Confessor's shrine would rise in a conspicuous manner to rivet our admiration. Eager to enjoy new scenes, we should then crown our ecstasy in the termination of the view by the upper part of Henry V.'s chapel, and chantry over it. — Odious usurper of our fancied joys, hence ! But let us divest ourselves of harsh reflections • let Moderation, " grace divine," lead us (if we can attend to her peaceful admonitions) into The Choir. And here we must relinquish the feeble hold of indifference ! The antiquary's glowing zeal for the renown of our ancient architecture now blazes in our breasts ! Disgusting victor over its fallen glories, you stand at this holy entrance to despoil us of our late acquired composure. Why is this piece of workmanship called an im- provement on our national style ? Was it set up as an object to excite our applause ? If so, I grieve indeed at the perversion of the mind of man, never more glaringly conspicuous than in the door of entrance, which we must pass through before we can congratulate ourselves on being within the choir. What objects, then, are here to recompense us for our present chagrin ? (I confine my observations to the embellishments of the choir only.) In truth, we are immersed in an investigation that will go nigh to overwhelm our judgments, and which will put our patience to a fiery trial. The work of the screens, pews, stalls, pulpit, are from the designs of an architect of this church, now deceased ; who, setting aside the architectural parts, and the ornaments which are so lavishly bestowed on every part of the building, and in contempt of the sacred walls he received a salary to protect and venerate, presumed to raise an architectural creation of his own. Was such an one, I ask, an eligible artist to be elevated to so high and distinguished an office as architect to the Abbey Church of Westminster ? An architect, when honoured with the care of this pile, should or ought to be ever on the spot, to watch with anxious care the state of its innumerable parts ; he should be studiously attentive that whatever repairs (however trifling) are made should be executed in strict imitation of The Abbey Cktirch of Westminster. 45 the original work ; and, by his zealous representations to the reverend guardian of the fabric, should point out the absolute necessity of a certain yearly expenditure (beyond common demands) being bestowed to keep in a decent kind of repair the several parts of the building. Such, I presume, are the leading features of an architect, whose exertions to preserve, as much as in him lies, this church to posterity, will be the greatest satisfaction he can ever know in this mortal state, and enriched with the good wishes of those who venerate the works of antiquity. In the second arch from the altar, on the north side, is the monument of Aveline, wife to Edward Crouchback, blocked up by the new screen work, and again on the outside by a modern monument, in such a way that no part of it can now be seen. In the same arch is the monument of Aymer de Valence ; and in the first arch is that of Edmund Crouchback. These two last are, beyond all contradiction, the finest examples of the monumental taste of the fourteenth century in this, or perhaps in any other country in Europe. I have already given it as my opinion that the ancient fine arts of this kingdom were in their meridian of splendour when our third Edward reigned ; the glory of England, and the admiration of his contemporaries ! An excess of genius and skill in every branch of decoration is lavished on these inestimable monuments. Here I cannot but be sensible that I betray a weakness in thus giving way to unbounded praise, which, by an unaccountable reverse of opinion in others, is reverberated back on my ill-judging mind, and my adulation turned into a sort of loathing at beholding these monuments entirely shut out from the choir, their appropriate situation, by the new screens also, while their fronts to the aisle are only to be perceived ; and in what a miserable condition, covered with dust and rubbish and some of their most delicate parts de- stroyed, and destroyed within no great distance of time ! Let us turn from these objects while reason so far holds sway over our passions that we may be able to restrain them. — The altar-screen, when it was presented some years back, to ornament this choir, was considered as an acquisition of much magnificence. However, I believe, at present it is pretty generally allowed to be a site as ill-calculated for it as a mitre would be if placed by way of ornament in the centre of a card-table. On the first arch from the south side of the altar are some wooden embellishments of compartments, pinnacles, etc., over, as it is said, the tomb of Sebert ; or, as it has been maintained, making part of the priests' stalls on the side of the altar. Be this as it may, the compartments on each side were filled with whole-length paintings of some of our ancient kings, saints, etc., one of which is still visible in the front next the aisle. This curious relic has likewise been excluded from the choir by the new screens, whereby the front on 4 6 Architectural Innovation. that side (which has all its painting complete) is hid from the public eye for ever. There are no memora?ida of what subjects filled the other arch on this side, to correspond with the enrichments on the opposite side of the choir. Why are these arches partitioned off from the choir, whereby we lose the sight of those memorials once seen through them? We lose also the original design of the arrangement of the appropriate parts of the choir. We — but I correct myself — " the old battered, old-fashioned, dirty" objects would in no wise have corresponded with the new work of the new choir, appearing so gay, so neat, and trim in the eyes of the multitude. Censure never sits easy in the mind of those who are constrained to require its unpleasant aid \ but when praise is the happy theme, how are our conceptions borne on the wings of sweet delight ! The gratifying view of the fine mosaic pavement before the high altar, the work of Abbot Richard de Ware, almost banishes from our memory the preceding reflections. Our satisfaction must give way in applauses to those who are the protectors of this scarce and invaluable remnant of the taste of those ancient artists, whose department consisted in ornamenting the pavement of our churches. [1799, Part If., pp. 858-861.] Edward the Confessor's Chapel. Even Dart, the historian of this church (in spite of the cant word of modern historians " superstition "), is compelled by an irresistible impulse to sound forth the praises of this chapel, which he declares is " so solemn and venerable that it strikes a greater idea of religious solitude and contemplation than any place perhaps in the world !" We must give him credit for this effusion, as at his day our ancient architecture was so entirely overlooked, that in every corner of the land some innovating disguise in the Roman and Grecian taste was thrown over its most lovely forms. The high-altar screen, through which we have just passed, is a bitter proof of this infatuated pro- pensity, if we may judge from the east front seen in this delightful chapel, for which language has no words that can, like the ethereal fire from heaven, dart into our souls that momentary flash of expression to mark its blaze of perfection. What, then, must have been its front next the choir ? Surely the glory of ancient art must have there appeared more than mortal. I have an innate conviction in my breast that this front is still in existence behind the present modern altar-screen. I expressed my thoughts in this way when I had examined a sort of modern screen, some few years past, at the east end of one of the college chapels in our universities, and which was verified soon after, when the said modern screen was removed, by giving to the astonished seminary an ancient altar-screen, the admira- tion of which was great and universal. The Abbey Church of Westminster. 47 " Feasting, then, our eyes " on the screen before us, let ecstasy, let remorse, each play the conqueror o'er our feelings. Now we explore the multitudinous parts that distract our comprehension in endless gaze ; now we start back with frightful gusts of passion to see this screen, which should only be approached with the most profound veneration, battered, hacked, and deprived of some of its principal parts, and now left to the mercy of mischievous and ignorant visitors,* whose respect and attention are only directed to the wax- work baby-catching resemblances of inanimate life. If we, who are intent on nobler subjects, inquire why this screen is thus abused, we are told, " Oh, it is your coronations that do all the mischief ; for, at that solemnity, a floor is laid over this chapel for the purpose of making it a retired situation and as the architect of the church and the workmen have so much other business on their hands they cannot attend to trifles. — We are answered. The first monument on the north side is in memory of Edward I. Its canopy and screen are demolished down to a very poor account indeed of decoration. Let my recollection assist me ; it was in some of my juvenile visits to this church; yes, I am certain now, it was at the funeral of a Lord Bath by torchlight ; the grave was in the aisle below, directly opposite this tomb. I, with many others, stood on the top of it. Near the conclusion of the ceremony the sacrilegious mob broke in on the procession, when a dreadful conflict ensued. Many bystanders, in order to defend themselves from the conse- quences of the general tumult, tore down part of the woodwork of the canopy to convert into weapons of defence. Darkness soon closed the scene. The terror I then endured, and the lapse of time since the event, have obliterated all traces in my memory of its disastrous conclusion. Some years after, this tomb was made the object of great curiosity, not alone of antiquaries, but of those who are not much interested in such studies, from the novelty of the transaction. This tomb, to be brief, was opened in presence of the late pious and learned Dean of this church (whose memory still dwells in the grateful hearts of those who now lament his loss — indeed, who literally live through his beneficent means), and several members of the Society of Antiquaries. The result of this important examination is explicitly and faithfully delivered in the " Archaeologia," vol. iii., p. 380. At the foot of this tomb a breach has been made in the uni- formity of the chapel, which is now the general way that modern visitors enter into it, not to pay their vows to St. Edward's shrine, but to play off their facetious jokes at its cost and the surrounding tombs. The tomb of Henry III. Has the recollection that this monarch was the founder of the building given way to the sole consideration of * In the entablature are sculptured the principal events in the life of Edward the Confessor. See Carter's " Ancient Sculpture," vol. i. 4 8 Architectural Innovation. the emolument that arises from it? an untold mine of aggrandisement to so many ! Behold how the embellishments are suffered to vanish away, bit after bit ;* no directions given for its repair, or for keeping it in decent order ; no means devised, by way of prevention, to secure it from further curtailment. The royal statue is of brass gilt, a tempting material. Henry, thy great and noble acts lie with thee in thy tomb unheeded and forgot ! The tomb of Elizabeth, second daughter to Henry VII. ; which, being a very small and simple design, has (no doubt from its sup- posed insignificance) been battered and maltreated, with a view, one would think, to get rid of it altogether ; however, it still holds its place. The tomb of Eleanor, the faithful consort to Edward I. This memorial of connubial attachment has hitherto withheld the " iron hand." The innovators, either in religion or architecture, felt the force of the divine attribute, heaven's best gift to man, female faith ! This tomb has not been mutilated. The tomb and monumental chapel of Henry V., conqueror of France, England's glory, Britons' inspiring theme ! While my delighted eye wanders over thy sepulchral trophy of conquest and of ancient art, let me presume to hope, to be prophetic, that Englishmen may again tread in that bright path which led thee on to fame — again may sound to distant realms that France is at their feet ! I am con- fident that this endeared object and England triumphant exist together. It must give pleasure to hear it said that the statue of Henry is of " heart of oak." Some surprise may be raised, as this material is not usually made use of for such purposes. But when we recollect that the statue of John of Eltham, in St. Edmund's Chapel, is of oak covered with enamelled brass-work, we may reasonably conclude that Henry's statue was plated with silver ; as the tradition sets forth, and which especially remarks that the head was of solid silver. Such a circumstance accounts for the present loss of the head of the statue. Every part of this chapel is in a tolerably perfect state. Our satisfaction is heightened when we consider that our countrymen, though their disorganisation of sentiment in other matters may have blinded their reason, so as to commit havoc on the works of antiquity, have, in the instance before us, held sacred the memory of Henry. On each side of the design circular stairs ascend into Henry's chantry. In this sequestered spot we find a sweet repose ; contending passions for a while cease to agitate our thoughts. Our view eastward is closed by a small and rich altar-screen, perfect, except the want of the statue in the centre, infusing a faint gleam of the appearance of the church when in its original perfect state of repair. Nay, our investigating labours are rewarded by a sight of the altar-table, now lying before the site of the altar, and forming * Alluding to the inlaid work on the tomb. The Abbey Church of Westminster. 49 part of the pavement. We also discover on the face of this curious remain its authentic marks, the five crosses. For these several years past a number of wood models of churches have been lumbered up in a chamber over the east cloister. They lately have been cleaned, repaired, and removed into this chantry for public inspection. However ill they may accord with this sacred situation, yet, for the opportunity it gives all to participate with us in its beauties, we may look askance at this new sort of furniture. But, what is no small pleasure to the antiquary, the shield and saddle, part of the funeral trophies of our Henry, have been restored, with as much attention as possible, to their original situations, so as to accompany his helmet, which appears to have remained undisturbed since its first setting up. This shield must be particularly dear to the beholder ; who will reflect that, when it graced and defended the arm of Henry, " St. George and conquest !" was the cry ; to victory or death. Descending into St. Edward's Chapel, we next in order notice the tomb of Queen Philippa, consort to Edward III. It is scarcely pos- sible not to be sensible of the nice perspicuity, the profound judgment evinced by the excellent disposition of this tomb and the tomb of Eleanor. They in their lives were the patterns of female excellence ; and from their deaths their memorials still live, as bright examples to remind the female world that universal love and universal praise is acquired through the medium of constancy and truth. We, however, cannot, as when speaking of Eleanor's tomb, here exult and say its owner's virtues have hitherto protected it : far otherwise, the canopy, the statue, and the several ornaments have felt the " iron hand." I remember it in a far better state. But to proceed. The tomb of Edward III. Surely heroism is its own safeguard, a charm that enervates the ruthless hand of the despoiler. This monarch's praise is a theme in which we have continually indulged our loyal sensations, have ever called to mind his warlike deeds, his patronisation of learning, arts, and laws, his most extraordinary powers in raising this kingdom to a degree of splendour it never knew before. These overflowing dictates must have their source from those comparative causes crowding in my view at the present hour. Thus encircled has Edward's tomb passed through a long succession of years nearly entire ; a moiety of its canopy, the crown and sceptres, and the small statues on the north side, are the principal enrichments which have suffered in such a lapse of time. The tomb of Margaret, daughter to Edward IV., damaged, and suffered to go to decay. The tomb of Richard II. and his queen. This unfortunate king's destiny pursued him after death ; for, till of late, his relics were the sport of wanton curiosity ; certain openings on the south side of the vol. x. 4 5o A rchitectural Innovation. tomb not only showed the bones, but, by the insertion of the arm, they were frequently taken out for exposure. Highly to the credit of some, revolting at such practices, the openings are now closed up. We find the canopy damaged ; the architectural parts, and the small statues that laid on each side of the royal statues, with their crowns, sceptres, and their arms, etc., have been purloined, no doubt on account of the value of the metal ; but at what time is not known. The shrine of Edward the Confessor. Of the many works of art of this kind that gave celebrity to the structures which contained them, both from the name of the saint and from the immensity of jewels and costly ornaments inlaid thereon, this shrine of Edward's is the only work of the kind left us in the kingdom. According to the old adage, the scarcer the commodity the more its value is enhanced ; which, however, is not the case with regard to this shrine ; for a scrutinising examinator may continually add to his memoranda the loss of this part, and the diminution of that. He will soon recount the demolition of the two remaining twisted columns ; vain will be his anxious solicitude for the preservation of the beautiful mosaic work ; and he will have to close his long account of the dilapidation of the shrine with this sad remark : " The shrine of Edward the Confessor having been long neglected, and the fractures at its west end and at other parts daily growing worse for want of repair (which the expense of a few evenings' entertainment of one or more persons either at the opera or the playhouse would have been more than sufficient to defray), yesterday gave way, whereby the whole of the shrine tumbled into a heap of ruins 1" As a professional man, I adore its refinement of workmanship, I grieve at its disregarded state, and, if called on, would contribute every assistance in my power to superintend its repair, so as to co- operate with the liberal hand of the wealthy when they hold it out in generous aid. Shall I go farther in my remarks? The chest contain- ing the ashes of this second founder of the Abbey Church of West- minster is suffered to remain exposed to the glare of day, the eye of the irreligious, the reviler, and the infidel ! The pavement, where we see its rent and disjointed excellence in many a winding form of varied fancy, must give disquietude while it attracts our notice ; something like horror guides, when we trace our footsteps. Must we give the intruding passion leave to possess our souls ? We cannot believe the violation of the ashes of the dead has caused the discomposure of this once matchless pavement. No record that I have yet met with has told who were the perpetrators. Here is, however, left us one brass, of John de Waltham, Bishop of Salisbury, to assist our ideas in forming a judgment of the perform- ance. The brass of Thomas of Woodstock ; the gravestone that bore its form still lies by the tomb of Queen Philippa. The Abbey Church of Westminster. 51 We now turn to the Coronation chair, which we read was brought, with the famous stone within its seat, from Scotland, whose kings used to be crowned therein. Allowing for its great antiquity, we can find but little damage has been done to it; yet (setting aside my turn of thinking as an antiquary) I should be better satisfied to see more respect paid to it than is usually the case; and the more so, as it is the identical chair that our sovereigns have been crowned in ever since its being deposited in this chapel by Edward I. The sword and shield of Edward III. My judgment here denies me to give implicit belief to this piece of tradition. The sword is too gigantic, and the shield is not of the form used in Edward's days. The sword I conceive to be what is called the two-handed sword used by foot-soldiers, as we see so excellently represented in the tapestry in the Painted Chamber, Westminster. The other Coronation chair and the wax-work exhibition being both modern performances, there will be no necessity to take any notice of them. It being impossible to give the praise due to this sublime spot, oui minds alone must enter into the ecstatic vision. Wandering over its endless train of enrichments, we may feel by turns the glory of our ancient royal heroes, and the splendour of the ancient decorations. Brilliant pictures, unnumbered riches in gold, silver, and precious stones, reliques, religious curiosities, the myriads of burning tapers, the heavenly melodies of the minstrels. I almost see brought before my eyes that grand and solemn sight, when Henry III., the founder of this church, with several of his principal lords, bore the remains of St. Edward on their shoulders for re-enshrinement in this chapel. I see the eager enthusiastic multitude filling the aisles and the galleries of the structure ; I hear their pious acclamations, and now I see the shrine in possession of its royal saint ; ascending clouds of incense, gorgeous vestment, glittering insignia, Scriptural banners ! Again, the soft breathings of the harmonious choir, wafting on angels' wings the inspired soul to bliss immortal ! — Too far do I pursue the phantom of antiquarian joys to return at once to the present course of things ; insensibly I left its paths, and insensibly must I regain that even flow of mind which, as guide to my friends, is so entirely necessary. [1799, Part IL, pp. 940-943d Henry VII.'s Chapel. Come then, my friends, and as we draw nigh this chapel, which has obtained here the name of " one of the seven wonders of the world," we will convey our imaginations back to that point of time when the first stone was laid. This kind of architectural ceremony has been in practice from the most remote antiquity to the present 4—2 52 A rchitectural Innovation. hour, and which we had observed when any structure of consequence is to be erected. As authors class all ceremonial observances under the head of superstition, my brother architects will do well to look about them, as they are getting rid as fast as they can of all superstitious objects in our churches, called by antiquaries " the guides and authentic testimonies of history," to get rid of this high crime and misdemeanour also. We who do not stand in dread of this bugbear, this word " superstition," held out by freethinkers and illuminators, will dare to imagine we see our ancestors of the fifteenth century waiting in crowds to witness the august ceremony. It is not to be doubted but Henry (though the accounts do not mention it), and some of the principal nobility and clergy of the kingdom, were present, it being usual on those occasions for such illustrious person- ages to attend : Abbot Islip and Sir Reginald Bray being the principal names recorded as assisting to begin the new work ; the former as superior of this church, and the latter as the architect.* The memory of Sir Reginald Bray should be held dear to professional men who pretend to admire our ancient architecture. As it was customary for each of the dignified assistors at this architectural holiday to lay a stone for themselves in honour of God, the foundation must have made no inconsiderable show on the first day's work. Since we are become (through fancy's aid) part of the rejoicing throng, let the majesty of the day not pass away without portraying the principal objects appearing in our sight. At the east end of the church, behold the king and his court, surrounded by the religious, bearing their several costly officinal and processional badges ; on each side, and filling the space to the palace walls, the military and civil attendants on royalty. Passing our eyes in a circuitous manner above the assembled host, we see the chapter-house, the Abbey Church, St. Margaret's Church, the palace-yard, its gates and buildings, the great hall, St. Stephen's Chapel, and that part of the palace erected by the Confessor uniting with Abbot Littlington's tower, which brings this architectural circle to the chapter-house again. f Hark! how by turns the sounds of joy ascend in loud acclamations, in harmonious canticles ! I feel the invading ecstasy, I see the great and good ! And now all my attentive faculties centre on Sir Reginald ; I see him stand in conscious presumption of the possibility of bringing that design, which his enlightened mind had conceived, to perfection. The inspiration of the moment bids his soul presage that after-ages would adore the wonder he had that day seen so auspiciously begun ! Imagination's charm dissolves, its force subsides ; and now let reality, in all the burst of architectural glory, demand that homage * See his portrait, whole-length, in Carter's "Ancient Sculpture," vol. ii. f Great part of these objects are yet in being, though disguised and hid by coach-houses, taverns, ale and wine cellars, hovels, etc. The Abbey Church of Westminster, 53 and fearful investigation which such a building as Henry VII. 's chapel can alone inspire. In the porch of entrance, the ancient architect has well prepared our minds previous to beholding his refulgent scenes. A flight of several steps brings us under its arched ceiling ; and, although every space is filled with compartmented forms, yet the richness given is of that introductory unassuming sort, that it but serves to excite our rising astonishment. The effect bestowed from the uncertainty and small portions of light is most admirably calculated to infuse those sort of impressions so indispensably necessary to us who pant to receive the full force of the refined delights which await us. This porch has equally escaped the hand of alteration and of demolition. A door on the left brings us into the north aisle ; its work is an augmentation of what we beheld in the porch, increasing in beauty and infinity of parts. Various monuments, raised since the reign of Henry VIII., fill up the whole of the aisle, from the stone cradle at the east end, and hiding the site of the altar, to the wooden box holding General Monk's tributary effigies at the west end. A door on the right-hand in the porch leads into the south aisle. Here likewise monuments almost prevent the visitor from viewing its various charms, which are nearly correspondent to those on the north side. The site of the altar remains, but the niche over it has lost its statue. The wax-work figure of Charles II. is certainly a fine model ; it shows the real robes worn by that monarch, and well deserves the notice of the curious. This opinion, however, does not accord with those of the Church, or we should not perceive how it is left to go to decay. Six ponderous massive brass folding-doors, covered with open ornamental devices, "which on their hinges grate harsh thunder," admit us into the chapel. It is not in the power of men, who, like us, have step by step risen from one degree of mental enjoyment to another, found in every part of these sacred buildings, but here to submit to certain impulses, certain regrets, which surely can be no real crime to own. To wish for an instant (only) to see the place as at first, unsullied by dust and accumulating cobwebs ; see the whole in perfect repair ; the stopped- up broken windows shining resplendent with their full assemblage of painted glass ; the pavement covered with brasses and engraved gravestones ; its aisles and small chapels unincumbered by intrusive modern objects : to see its first possessors, their head and the architect, with all the " pomp and circumstance " of the times, enjoying the completion of their wishes and surprising abilities, in having completed a structure which was to hold the ashes of their king, and of succeeding monarchs ; a monument of royal mortality, and of architectural fame ! It is easily to be perceived these wishes are purely professional, 54 A rchitectural Innovation. and indulged for the sole purpose of conceiving what such a work of art must appear with all its attendant architectural finishings, and all its requisites of proper repair, cleanliness and order. As it is then, let us, if possible, pursue the myriads of objects presenting them- selves on the stalls, arches, compartments, niches, statues, windows, groins ! Our sight becomes distracted ; our comprehension loses itself in this labyrinth of architectural enrichments ; our senses forsake the clue of reason, and we sink entranced into a state of incomprehensive and unutterable delight ! Although I have thus essayed to speak of Henry VII. 's chapel, to tell its glories (for I have seen them), my efforts fall short indeed of that heavenly praise bestowed on it by an author at the beginning of this century, which is so highly applicable that it shall here be introduced : " Henry the Seventh's chapel is the admiration of the universe, such inimitable perfections appear in every part of the whole composure, which looks so far exceeding human excellence, that it appears knit together by the fingers of angels, pursuant to the directions of Omnipotence."* Six of the windows on the south and one on the north side in the upper tier have been banded, but not with an eye to the symmetry of the work. This circumstance, however, it is useless to premise. The several statues below them remain, excepting one on the south side. Those in the niches at the east end of the stalls are gone. Several of the eastern stalls are modern, put up in addition to the ancient ones, and are tolerable imitations. The screen round Henry's tomb has received much damage ; the tomb in itself is nearly perfect — the grand effort of Torreggiano.f The first small chapel on the north side, east of the stalls, has its west end destroyed by a last- century monument. The site of the altar remains; yet we find a tablet stuck up against it, and its screen has been destroyed in part. The next chapel in continuation has the site of the altar destroyed by a monument of this century. The centre chapel, in which one statue is gone, has no certain determinations to give a positive situation for the site of the altar. The fourth chapel is entire, and retaining the site of its altar. The fifth chapel, which is corre- spondent to the first, and stands opposite to it, has raised up against the site of its altar an obelisk. One of the statues is gone, and a last-century monument has been built up in the centre of it : the screen nearly destroyed. Of the screens to the three inter- mediate chapels there are not the least remains ; and in lieu of the destroyed appropriate open stone compartments to the screens of the first and last chapel just mentioned, are nailed up common deal, unpainted, hedge palisadoes, to prevent, we are to conceive (not to * Ward's "London Spy." f See Carter's " Ancient Sculpture," vol. . The Abbey Church of Westminster. 55 ornament the chapel), curious persons from picking out the brass- headed nails, and purloining velvet from the coffins of the two un- buried foreign ambassadors. Excepting the alterations and damages sustained as here noticed, every other part exists in its original state. We may, however, just put down that some little injury has been done to the space under the west window, caused by erecting there a temporary gallery at funerals, etc. The crowns also over the arms and devices above the niches at the extremity of the stalls are destroyed. Some small portions of the painted arms and devices in the windows are yet visible ; and in particular in the high east window, a good whole- length figure. It is rather surprising, as these paintings continue to be a general mark for stone-throwers, that a particle of them is in being. Here it may be remarked that the collection of statues hitherto preserved represents bishops, saints, etc., etc., and a small one on the stall on the left of the entrance is pointed out as a portrait of Henry himself. It will not be wondered at when I declare that I am fond of all ceremonies that partake in any degree of the manners of antiquity ; and, as I was spectator to a very awful one in this chapel at the funeral of the late Princess Amelia, I shall make little apology for re- counting of it here. A gallery was erected over the eastern part of the chapel (usual on such occasions, whereby the screen of Henry's tomb, the screens to the chapels, and adjoining ornaments, receive that damage already hinted, as very little, if any, direction is given to the workmen with regard to their preservation ; the attending profes- sional gentlemen being at such times too generally engaged in securing the perquisites of office, etc.). Clusters of lights depended from the groins ; and in the centre of the chapel the pavement was taken up, leaving sufficient room for receiving the corpse into the vaults underneath ; which is performed by means of machinery, after the manner of a theatrical trap-door. From the adjoining palace a platform ran to the door of the church by Poets' Corner (or the south transept) for the procession, lined with armed soldiers ; and at certain distances stood unarmed soldiers with tapers in their hands. Here ancient custom appears. The procession was met at the said door by the clergy in full numbers, all with lighted tapers, antiquity again ! and in this manner proceeded to the chapel, a solemn anthem being sung during the procession. The corpse was then laid on the false flooring of the machinery, when the funeral service commenced. At its conclusion, another anthem ended this last sad office to departed royalty. The happy unity of the time of the music to the descent of the body was particularly striking, which, as the anthem proceeded, insensibly sunk till it was out of sight ; and what gave the whole a more forcible effect (I speak to those who have "music in themselves") was, that at particular parts of the 56 Architectural Innovation. composition were rests (or cessation of sounds), when another happy (if I may so term it) combination was heard, the minute-guns in the Park. As this scene was no ideal business, I partook of that sort of melancholy pleasure, which for the time banished all such thoughts as have been the principal features of this paper ; and I only beheld the chapel for its then effect, the procession for its then grand and holy purposes, and listened to the dying falls of sweet harmony for those pious thoughts which it then raised in my participating heart. [1799, Part II., pp. 1015-1016.] We have ever been used to hear sounded in our ears how cheap men worked in former times, and to hear the architectural efforts of our ancestors familiarized down to the low and ignorant considera- tion that, when they were constructed, a penny a day was the price of each artificer's labour, without once considering the value of a penny six centuries back, and a penny at the present moment. And yet let me recollect, that either this ancient stipend is still continued in the dis- bursements of this church, or that the professional people belonging to it are so fascinated by its architectural charms, or by the high honour redounding from the name of being called an architect, mason, carpenter, plumber, glazier, etc., etc., that, as I was informed by a person the best qualified to decide upon the matter, the mason's bill for work done last year on the various parts of the church, the surrounding buildings, prebendal houses, etc., did not exceed sixty pounds. I have long been used likewise to have raised to my view the scene which would take place in this church if all the useless super- stitious objects of former times were swept out of the building. One proposes to carry the screen entering into the choir as far back as the east line of the north and south transepts, and push the choir home to Henry VII. 's chapel ; the royal monuments, etc., to be conse- quently huddled up in some of the obscure parts either in the body or transepts of the church. Another (can we think guided by the new order of things ?) proposes to make a clear stage of the religious arrangements of the church, whereby its whole interior might become one vast receptacle, where fine monuments (modern ones, it is to be presumed) might be seen, and the grand established service of the choir diminished, and removed into the narrow limits of Henry VII. 's chapel. This innovator, perhaps, upon some few occa- sions hath witnessed but one or two singing men, half a dozen singing boys, one or two minor canons, and, perchance, one solitary prebendary, assisting at divine service ; and, therefore, unthinkingly concluded Henry's chapel roomy enough for such an assemblage. I have before me a letter, which I received a few years ago, desir- The Abbey CImrch of Westminster. 57 ing me to make a view of this said chapel, with strict charge to leave out all the unnecessary decorations of stalls, Henry's tomb, and the trifling trumpery of the helmets, gauntlets, swords, and banners, of the heroic knights of the Bath, thus ennobled for the warlike deeds they had achieved in defence of their king and country! It is hardly necessary to remark, the only use I ever made of this letter was to keep it as a testimonial of the ideas of architectural innovators, and now to lay its purport before my readers, that they may be sensible how some professional men (this correspondent being one) despise our ancient religious decorations, and how I revere them. What strange infatuations at certain times possess the heart and soul of man ! Each in his turn falls into mental snares destructive to worldly happiness. A long, long, and disgusting list might be brought before each man's view ; some with ridiculous items, and some with mournful mementoes, enough to embitter the remaining thread of mortal care. Ever wishing to entertain my readers, I shall confine here my reflections to the more cheerful part of my picture. The infatuation I mean now to set up to view is in regard to the adherence to costume both in ancient and modern artists. Our ancient artists, let their subject for representation be of ages that have passed before them, or of whatsoever country, gave the manners of the times they lived in ; as we particularly witness in the Painted Chamber in the adjoining palace, where the subject of the siege of Troy is wrought in tapestry, with the buildings, dresses, and decorations of the fourteenth century. Our modern artists, as it were to turn the flame on their ancient brethren, have introduced the Roman, Grecian, and almost every nation's costumes, to deck out their historical performances both in painting and sculpture. Of the latter art, in no spot in the kingdom has this whimsical infatuation taken such firm root as in this church ; for it is impossible to cast our eyes on one monument but something of this perversion of reason and judgment stares us in the face. This irreconcilable mode, this leveller of all historic evidence, seems to have raised its head soon after the introduction of the Roman and Grecian architecture among us, treading under foot our national style, and, by dressing up the statues of our statesmen, warriors, and scientific men in foreign and fantastic habits, entirely do away the historic costume of this country. The cause of this infatuation arises, I conceive, from a presump- tive vanity, which is more or less predominant in us all, that we know better than those who have gone before us ; and we arrogantly say we will improve on our masters. Here take the names of some of the principal monuments that come under this head of sculptural infatua- tion, the offspring of architectural innovation : Sir Thomas Hardy. Roman dress. Horneck. Ditto, busto. Hon. Lieutenant-Colonel Roger Townshend. His death repre- 58 Architectural Innovation. sented after the Roman manner, in a basso-relievo, and yet supported by Indians in the strict costume of their country. Sir Cloudesly Shovell. Full-bottomed periwig, coat sleeves, night- gown, Roman covering for the body, and for the decoration of the legs and feet. James Craggs, in a sort of a Roman dress, shock hair, etc. John Friend. Roman busto. Martin Folkes. Roman dress. Shakespeare. Fancy dress. James Thomson. Roman dress. John Duke of Argyll. Ditto dress. Sir Thomas Robinson and lady. Roman bustos. Garrick. Fancy dress. Butler. Roman busto. Barton Booth. Ditto busto. Francis Holies. Roman warrior. Admiral Holmes. Roman dress. Admiral Vernon. Ditto dress. Admiral Watson. Ditto dress. General Guest. Ditto busto. Admiral West. Dressed hair, neckcloth, and in armour. A busto. General Kirke. Dressed hair, in armour. A busto. Earl of Halifax. Dressed hair, in armour. A busto. George Holies. A Roman warrior. Catharine Walpole. Grecian dress. John Duke of Sheffield. Roman ditto. Now let us leave this sacred pile, our senses filled with the sublime transports which we have imbibed during our survey. Let us leave these scenes with, perhaps, the last look which some of us may ever take ! Farewell, dear venerated fane ! I quit your hallowed walls. Why do my lingering eyes forget to turn to other objects! What portentous thoughts intrude? Sure, I shall once more tread thy holy aisles ! Again farewell ! and may these essays have some influence over thy future welfare ! Then shall I think my labours well bestowed ; and my happy spirit, when disrobed of mortal clay, will ever dwell a guardian genius to protect and guard thy architectural glories to time immemorial. St. Margaret's Church, Westminster. [1799, Part II. > pp. 1129-1130.] How often do we behold men who are decreed to stand the mark of Heaven's vengeance ! And, although their lives and actions have been as faultless as the weakness of human nature will admit of, yet so it is, some malignant and envious spirits, to gratify the venomed St. Margaret's Church, Westminster. 59 purposes of their hearts, notwithstanding their own ruin must inevitably be the consequence, strike and wound the miserable object of their fury, cutting up by the roots all his hopes, and when in the full blossom of every honest pursuit and employment ! Wretched lot ! Pitiable situation ! From such an unhappy mortal, doomed to feel, let us contemplate an inanimate subject ; which, as we pass on the north side of the Abbey Church in our way to the neighbouring palace, we cannot but stay a while to comment on. St. Margaret's Church appears to be devoted to architectural inno- vation \ the alterations which have taken place, both on its exterior and interior, have not only been of the ridiculous kind, but, I fear, of a serious nature, that is, so far as obliterating the original excellent design of the building. Its walls, windows, arches, etc., have felt the ruthless blows of the artificer's hammer, whose architectural wounds have been seared up with professional fancies, which will, while the fabric exists, be the continued butt of contempt, mingled with regret and sorrow. The north side till lately has remained much in its original state, excepting some common garret windows placed over the side aisle. We may observe a new window has just been inserted at the western extremity of the said aisle, as a proof how the old ones are to be con- sidered as deformed, and the work of the present day more refined and elegant ; and yet, what is it we are pretending to imitate ? Why, the old style. Absurd, when I declare I never saw an ancient window after the design which this new one is supposed to represent. West front. — The tower at the north-west angle of this front has been, some years back, new-faced ; whereon we find the unaccount- able medley of ancient and modern compartments, and tracery cut everywhere about it. At the same period, we are to imagine, the common house parapet, and the transformation of the mullions of the windows, took place ; which transformation certainly charmed the directors of the present alterations, as the new window already spoken of is correspondent to them. The porch, erected some ten or twelve years back, is a mode of architecture which may be termed unique, notwithstanding it is called by the inhabitants a Druidical design. They, indeed, might as well call it either the production of the Hottentots or the Laplanders, for what affinity it can possibly have with the piles of our ancient Britons. South side. — In the first story are already inserted many of the new windows; those not yet altered were, we may again suppose, new- worked when the west front underwent its change above observed ; however, they preserve somewhat of the tracery of the original windows seen on the north side. The new windows in the second story innovate but in a small degree from the old ones. The parapet is modern. 6o A rchitectural Innovation. East front. — It has been new-faced, and its small parts modernised. Inside of the church. — Thirty or forty years ago, when this church was repaired and beautified, its groins, or whatever finishing it then might have had, were destroyed, and an ornamented modern flat ceiling put up in their stead. The east end was decorated in a fancy way, but yet not so as to alter or disfigure the arrangement of the building ; and other changes were made, of less consequence. Little judgment can be given of the intended reparations or altera- tions now carrying on. We can only perceive that the last division of the arches to the east, on each side of the body of the church, have in part been filled up with counteracting arches of stone and brickwork, to resist, as we are given to understand, the pressure of the building from the west. This I was not sensible of ; and I still tremble for the fate of the east front, as on its exterior are not any buttresses, nor are any preparations making to repel the new mass of materials in the last division we are speaking of. I would advise my professional brethren to read occasionally No. ii. [ante, p. 5] of these pursuits, where they will find by what mode of procedure the west front of Hereford cathedral fell a victim to the ignorance and whim of the people there employed. I saw in the vestry a drawing, exhibiting in what manner the east end of this church is to be altered. Its plan circular, a groined dome, with an open skylight at the top ; the whole to be viewed from the west end of the building through a large pointed archway spread- ing across the body of the chancel. The effect thus to be produced is certainly not meant to be after the ancient terminations of our religious structures. No ; a bold display of modern inventive genius, not fettered down to the dull trammels of copying the half-conceived designs of our ancestors, is to be the grand effort of this new display of art. Groins in the old way would have been dark, and no other light appeared on the new work that would have come through the dull paintings in the east window, hitherto considered as the principal object at this end of the building. Now, a burst of light from above will render the superstitious paintings but barely visible (a proper consequence, to be sure) ; and the fine show, from the profuse disposition of light and shade, will dazzle and astonish the beholders ; and they will forget that open sunny domes were unknown to our ancient artists, and that solemn " emboyed roofs " are disgusting to our modern ones ! The Ancient Palace of the Kings of England at Westminster. [1800, Part I., pp. 33-36.] It will first be necessary to consult a few prints that show the state of this palace in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The oldest of these is a plan of London in Elizabeth's reign ; where, examining The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 61 that part laid down for Westminster, we find the mass of buildings constituting the palace much as they have appeared in our times. In the open space before the hall, now called New Palace Yard, was a conduit ; before it to the north a large tower, and at the western extremity of the yard, to the right and left, were gateways. On the river-side are to be made out those erections which occupy the east side of the yard ; the cloisters and buildings belonging to St. Stephen's Chapel, the buildings now called the Court of Requests, and the House of Lords ; but not either St. Stephen's Chapel or the Painted Chamber can be particularised. The hall is very conspicuous ; and we can discover the other open space now called Old Palace Yard, with the east end of the Abbey Church, St. Margaret's Church, and some other buildings ranging on the west side of the hall. Thus much for the information which is to be gathered from this valuable print. The other engravings are views of New Palace Yard only ; and (from the dress of the people) appear to have been taken in Charles II.'s reign ; from which, we see, the niches in the front of the hall were filled with statues • and that the buildings on the left of the hall were similar to those we now find on the right, with the great tower and the two gateways, but not the conduit as put down in the plan. Thus informed (though not in the most satisfactory manner), we prepare to commence our survey. New Palace Yard. — On the west and north sides are ranges of modern buildings only ; and we cannot find any traces of the two gateways or the conduit. The east side shows the range of erections found in the plan. The south side gives the front of the hall, on the left of which are some brick buildings, of the latter end of Charles II.'s reign. The august front of the hall is indeed standing, but how disgraced, mutilated, and hid by paltry huts ! I submit to any unprejudiced mind, not vitiated with the rage to despise our ancient fabrics, if they can resist the rising admiration excited by the rich and noble parts of the tracery and enrichments which arrest our view. The porch, when perfect, must have been of the first class of work- manship ; and barbarous must those minds have been who demolished the groins of which we now lament the loss. The parapet over the porch has likewise been destroyed. In the first story of the tower on the left, two of the six niches are cut away for a modern window ; second story, the window perfect ; third story, the window has had its mullions hacked ; the parapet modern. Tower on the right hand ; first story, niches cut away for a modern despicable window ; second and third stories, mullions of the windows hacked, and a modern parapet. The great window over the porch unaltered. On the point of the roof, the terminating niche has been curtailed of its pinnacles, and a common mason's plinth for a vane substituted in its stead. Not one of the statues that filled the niches is left, which, no doubt, 62 A rchitectural Innovation. were historical, and gave the forms of our kings, warriors, and other ennobled characters. The range of buildings running from the hall to the west side of the yard, where stood one of the gateways entering into Old Palace Yard, were till very lately entire ; when, from a supposed want of room for carriages (ever before thought sufficient) they were taken down to within two windows in breadth, west of the octagon to^-er, projecting from about the centre of this range. Interesting these chambers were, as we have from tradition that one of them was the bed-chamber of Henry VII. The west side of the hall is partly perfect, excepting that on its wall a modern brick parapet has been placed, and towards its northern extremity we find some few old chambers left standing ; but the whole line of its side is blocked up by every species of modern erections, so that but little of its design can meet the eye. The south end of the hall likewise comes in for its share of exclusion ; yet we can just perceive the upper part of the great window and finish of the roof. The east side of the hall is much shut out from observation, but the erections there have been raised for necessary attendant pur- poses on St. Stephen's Chapel, such as the cloisters, etc., which we as antiquaries must overlook, when they remain so great a store, so rich a mine, of architectural treasure, to repay our wonder and curiosity. We will at present delay making any observations on the exterior of St. Stephen's Chapel, its cloisters, and contiguous buildings, reserving them for a succeeding essay ; and, continuing our course, will com- ment on the state of the Painted Chamber. On the north side, the basement story has had some modern altera- tions ; the principal story, two of the windows and buttresses remain. Towards its eastern extremity are the vestiges of adjoining chambers of rich work, and a modern brick parapet has been put as a finish to the wall. The east end presents much of its original work ; and to prevent the consequences of some fracture, a prodigious supporting pier of brickwork has been built up. The upper part of this end has likewise been repaired with modern make- shift masonry, disgracing the sublimity of this most curious, and the least unaltered, part of the palace, and which from its appear- ance must create the greatest attention and veneration. The south side and west end abut against other buildings. That on its south side is the present House of Lords, and that at its west end a part of the Court of Requests. The walls of the House of Lords still preserve much of their old work, but are blocked up on both the west and east sides with modern apartments, and houses for the conveniency of the attending lords. The north end abuts against the Painted Chamber, and the south end against the Prince's Chamber. This latter chamber shows its east end and south side in their original state ; but the west end is The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 63 hid by a modern colonnade, etc., and its north side abuts against the House of Lords. From the east end of this chamber, running east, and then turning to the north, taking its direction towards the east end of the Painted Chamber, are certain remains of old walls, with windows stopped up, a hanging buttress, and a projecting tower. These two latter objects fronting the Thames, and being that kind of work seen on the exterior of mansions, or castle walls, against which the waters of surrounding ditches flowed, made me, when speaking of the aqueduct in the cloisters of the Abbey Church, suppose that its direction lay towards these walls, which once, no doubt, the river washed with its tideful stream, notwithstanding there is at present such a plot of ground between them and the water. The next building which comes to our observation, and the last that is in being of this once magnificent and extensive palace, is the Court of Requests. The south end is indeed a curiosity, a choice remnant of the first erections of this palace by Edward the Confessor. These pursuits have guided us just in the fortunate moment to catch a look at its design, as a common kitchen, and its appendages are now rais- ing up against it. It may be thus described. From the ground line to the second story the wall is plain, except two simple quarter round brackets. The line marking the commencement of the second story has the diagonals : two large semicircular-headed windows with the diagonals (stopped up) next claim our notice. Above, modern brick- work gives a finish to this end of the building. The west side shows the old wall (plain) to a certain height ; and then modern brickwork gives the finish as at the south end. The first story of the north end shows likewise the old wall ; and its upper story finishes in the modern way, like the forementioned parts. The east side is entirely hid by the Painted Chamber, and a range of modern apartments lead- ing from the House of Commons to the House of Lords, through the Painted Chamber. As the fire in the reign of Henry VIII. consumed the principal part of the palace, and judging from the greater hall and other buildings before us, we may naturally conclude the whole pile of edifices was immense and stupendous ! Our conceptions are carried away by comparisons to views of unnumbered scenes of royal splendour; and, when we read of the luxurious banquetings, the heroic exercises of valorous knights, the brilliant and costly entertainments, we must raise to our imaginations the profuse designs of the bowers of the ladies, the chambers of the knights and the great officers of the household, the queen's chamber, the king's chamber, and all the attendant train of offices dependent on kingly state ! Then shall we be enabled to grasp in our " mind's eye" the original grandeur of the ancient Palace at Westminster ! Withdrawing our ideas, so deeply imbibed with that just fervour, 6 4 A rchitectural Innovation. caught from the love of former times, we become common spectators of the mean, the despicable, and unheeded state of this remnant of a departing ancient royal palace ! If some minds could partake with us of the felicity in contemplating these relic mansions of our ancient Sovereigns, how soon should we have to rejoice at being happy witnesses of the sweeping command of — Away with these usurping excrescences of sheds, hovels, taverns and alehouses, that blot out and disfigure the walls of old English splendour and old English hospi- tality ! and let them stand while a particle remains to remind us who live, that those historic evidences which we read are not romantic fictions; and that we may emulate those deeds of high renown recorded by the pens of inspired bards, which gave prophetic harmony to the enrapturing harps of the enchanting minstrels : " ' What passion cannot Music raise or quell?' Honour, Courage. — Truth, Loyalty. Love, Madness. — Repose, Reason. Religion, Heavenly joys. — Patience, Resignation. And (the last of all human desires) How to die !" The Cloisters of St. Stephen's Chapel. [Part I., pp. 1 29- 1 3 1.] Our approach to them is from the south-east angle of New Palace Yard, through a much smaller courtyard, which yard is made out from part of the east side of the great hall, part of the south side of the Exchequer offices, part of the range of buildings fronting the Thames, and part of the north exterior of the cloisters. On the great hall side (which appears much in its original state) are stables, coach-houses, etc. On the Exchequer side, the ancient windows are either filled up or modernized. On the range of buildings side are two ancient doorways and two or three windows ; but they have been stopped up. Here have been inserted several modern doors and windows ; and, on the cloister side, the whole line is hid by a modern front for common apartments ; and, at that part running towards the hall, is a large square tower, which abuts directly against it. The various windows and parapet of this tower have been modernized. Here let me remark that the cloisters and buildings connected with them are parcelled out into the various convenient chambers and offices necessary to accommodate a person of distinction. The late Duke of Newcastle occupied them, when I particularly surveyed some part of these remains, in 1791; and at present they are in- habited by the truly excellent Speaker of the House of Commons. Having now access to the east exterior of the cloisters next the Thames, we find but a small portion of the ancient front, which is adjoining the north-east angle of St. Stephen's Chapel ; for the whole The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 65 range of buildings, quite to those which give the east side of New- Palace Yard, are either destroyed, or have had their walls new faced with brickwork, so as to give them the appearance of modern build- ings. The south exterior of the cloister is a plain wall nearly touching the buttresses of the chapel. The western exterior is indeed part of the eastern wall of the great hall. St. Stephen's Chapel, the west front, the principal part of which is hid by modern buildings. One of them, however, shows some windows of Henry VIII. 's time, rising nearly to the top of the chapel, and serving in some degree as a screen to what is left of this most exquisite work. Within this screen and the front is a modern stair- case to the interior of the chapel. The chapel, we find, consists of two stories, the basement story serving as an undercroft, or common chapel, and the second story giving the grand chapel. The front of the basement part is destroyed, and two modern semicircular arches and their piers fill up its place, serving as a communication to the undercroft, etc., and as a support to the front of the second story, which presents a porch, constituting that valuable remain just men- tioned. When we say that Edward III. was the founder of this chapel, our wonder will still serve to impress our judgments with the stronger conviction that his architectural day was all that chaste design, true proportions, and elegant enrichments could produce to the admiring eye of investigating man ! Be this effusion but the prelude to the enchanting displays of art which await us when we shall enter those walls, raised with an idea worthy of a king, that they should contain all the excellence of the most celebrated professional men in the kingdom, and bring to one point every perfection that human genius had planted within its seagirt mound. Again, my friends, trace the lines of this captivating design, and let me confess that it has ever been my task of delight to come, at certain periods, to take a look at its matchless beauties, as charming now as when at first they caught my youthful mind. Constancy is held a virtue of the highest price; it may be so to some, yet there are others who, although in full possession of such a seeming good, fall a prey to every misery that envenomed enemies can inflict. Despite of such terrific intrusions on susceptible hearts, still let us admire and still praise, this intrinsic performance before us. The termination of the upper part of this front has been entirely changed into coal-holes, closets, bedrooms, etc., and the octangular buttresses at the angles show a strange finish after a modern idea, The South Side. — The basement story contains one of the original windows perfect, majestically grand ! All the others are obliterated or hid by surrounding habitations. The second story meets our sight with increased dignity, but we are miserably tortured at the same time at witnessing the fine buttresses, the lofty windows, and the finish of the walls, cruelly mangled with the work of modern vol. x. 5 66 Architectural Innovation. times. The buttresses have been pared down to a poor remnant of their former greatness; the windows unfeelingly filled in with brick- work, wherein are placed oval and semicircular headed windows, and the walls pitifully finished with a common parapet. We love to point out the exertions of unwearied labour and arduous imitation ; as such, let us notice one of the buttresses which has in part been rebuilt (the whole business of the last summer). In these buttresses are the vestiges of niches ; in the restored, or new worked one, there is really a most admirable proof of the painstaking of the workmen, and the economy of those who may have had its superintendence : we find the sweeps of the head of the niche have been copied, it is true, but the mouldings and lines dropping down to the base entirely set aside, and a square line just below the springing of the head cut across the front, as much as to say, here is enough of this barbarous style of architecture ; let us have no more of it ! I should not have been thus particular on what indeed in itself is but a trifle, did we not hear it rumoured that, in the general design for a new House of Parliament (among the several plans now under consideration), if these old buildings should be preserved, their mutilated parts are to be restored. The East Front. — Every change that modern fancy could devise has been wrought on this front. On the basement story, three modern pointed windows have been introduced in lieu of the original ones ; in the principal story, we can make out the general form of the great window which has been stopped up, and at its base-line a kind of hutch or cabin gallery has been stuck out with pigeon-hole windows, etc., and above in the filling-up brickwork, are four semi- circular headed windows. The buttresses on each side are in their original dress, but finish at their tops with modern domes of octangular forms. To the right of these buttresses is some twenty or thirty feet of the old wall of the building in continuation ; but, by the insertion of some modern windows, the antiquity of this small portion is done away. While we contemplate this front,* grandeur again stands before us, although mock insulting disfigurements have almost reduced it at present to the tread of insult and contempt. The north side has undergone the same innovations as we found on the south side, excepting that, on the basement story, are more remains of the lines of the windows and the compartments around them. * See a faint representation of this front, in its original state, now to be met with, sculptured in one of the bosses of the groins of the cloisters to this chapel in vol. ii. of the "Ancient Sculpture and Painting." The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster, 67 The Interior of the Great Hall. [1800, Part I., pp. 214-217.] Accustomed as we are become to all the wanton despoliations of the " iron hand,"* our chagrin and regret at such havoc must now subside for a short interval ! We behold, we wonder, and we adore! Where will our senses hurry us, or to what ray of comprehension can they find a stay to compose the incomplete abilities of us modern professional men, that we may dare to give a name of sufficient force, or a reason of sufficient weight, to mark the magic work of the roof, or to say, thus was it designed, thus was it constructed ! Humbly do we bow the head with conscious shame, that we can only gaze, but can never imitate. Our vanity sinking with our eyes, the windows next come under our investigation. How fine ! Below them, our view becomes shocked with the preposterous modern erections at the basement part of the south end, exhibiting architectural taste at its lowest ebb either of invention or execution. Animated again with the delightful (not unmixed with pain) task of our survey, let us once more fully take into our minds the magni- tude, the glory of the view : no common command bid these walls arise ; no ! A splendid king said, ' This my intended palace shall sur- pass all the architectural works of my contemporaries ; here shall be seen the world's habitable wonder !' How well this royal resolution was carried into effect, even the callous hearts of the destroyers of our ancient architectural works must allow, if envy of superior excellence would permit them to tell the dictates of their consciences. We who are antiquaries enjoy and feel all the raptures which this remaining memorial of kingly state can possibly inspire. We faintly speak ; but our ecstasies tell it all ! The dimensions first demand our notice. The length of the hall from north to south, 236 feet; breadth from east to west, 66 feet; and the height, 87 feet. Some sixteen or eighteen years back, the basement part of this hall underwent a repair, or, more properly speaking, an alteration, from which business the height of the building was curtailed some feet, by raising the pavement ; and the walls were faced with new stonework as high as the entablature under the windows, where we find octangular pilasters and other dressings of an entire modern fashion, giving a seeming support to the several divisions of the timber-work of the roof. Whoever considers the natural pressure either of the great timbers, or the groins of ancient structures, will be convinced that their force is directed outwards : therefore, our forefathers wisely invented attached or flying buttresses on the exteriors of such works, to resist * A late adopted significant term, expressive of architectural innovation. 5—2 68 Architectural Innovation. every danger which those objects might bring to their supporting walls. Hence where was the necessity for these modern intrusions of grotesque pilasters, and the immensity of square superficial feet of plain Portland stone masonry ? No doubt, this new work is more conspicuous on the inside of the hall than such an accumulation would have been on the outside of its walls. Why, indeed, should a good job be executed in a situation where few would ever be able to admire it, or to envy the good fortune of him who made out a long bill for " stuff and time "? The North End. — On the right side of the entrance is an ancient doorway with a modern addition of a pointed arch set over its top. The ancient stairs ascending to the Exchequer offices have been replaced by new ones ; and, when they were destroyed, an ancient statue of a knight was found, rather perfect, which was supposed to have, at one time or other, been placed in some of the niches on the front of the hall.* It was afterwards broken to pieces. At the bottom of these stairs there yet remains an ancient pillar with arms and devices.! On the left side of the entrance are new stairs and a new pillar (it is not remembered if there was at any time an original one) ; a good imitation of the corresponding ancient one. The great window unaltered. East Side. — The doorway into the Exchequer offices unaltered, with a curious busto in the centre of the arch.J The doorway in the basement part, near the foregoing one, modernized. The door- way at the south end is square-headed, and has been cut through the thickness of the wall for making a convenient passage to and from that part of the hall ; probably done in Charles I.'s reign, as there is over it a scroll bracket, which, till the late repairs, supported a fine and most valuable bronze busto of Charles. We do not precisely know in whose custody it now remains. Eight of the twelve windows have been stopped up for modern convenience in the adjoining habitations ; therefore, that some light might be admitted on this side, six garret windows have been stuck into the roof, disgracing most shamefully the symmetry of the work. South End. — Two of the twelve divisions of the building have been filled up by the courts of King's Bench and Chancery. It is not in our nature to command the indignant scorn which we as antiquaries, and, indeed, those who pretend to admire the arts of any age or country, should conceive at such a pitiful, and such a contemptible introduction as the design of the front of these courts exhibits. The architect, to be sure, styled it, our ancient architecture designed after a new way ! Here all the little fancies of modern art, mixed with some gross imitations of our ancient works, fill the whole of these fronts. What a farrago of pinnacles and pineapples, pointed compartments and ogee arches, buttresses and balusters, a Grecian * Engraved in "Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. t Ibid. % Ibid. The A ncient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 69 entablature and French ornaments ! Why curtail the hall of so much of its fair dimensions by these usurpers of its rightful proportion ? Why not have cut pointed arches in the wall at this end, and built up courts without, which might have been viewed from the hall with every degree of architectural propriety and effect? Why do we ask these presuming questions ? Ah ! why indeed ! Silence alone must here direct our prudence. The six niches in the base part of the wall retain their beautiful work and their fine statues of our ancient kings.* The accompanying decorations, which no doubt rendered this end of the hall a brilliant scene (here being the place for the cross table, where the family of royalty sat), have been entirely cut away. The great window unaltered. The West Side. — In the basement part, southwards, is the appear- ance of a square-headed doorway (stopped up) correspondent to the one on the opposite side, with a bracket also, once supporting, it is very probable, the busto of Charles's queen, the lovely Henrietta. The great ogee archway that has been cut through the thickness of the wall, giving admittance into the Court of Common Pleas, is in the same ignorant and vulgar style as the work of the courts, at the south end, and, no doubt, by the same great master. I ask, to what ancient example did this ogee pointed arch owe its origin ? Recollection tells me, I may be answered, it is an improvement on our ancient architecture ; and with a witness ; for, can such a sweeping arch be either natural, or give an idea of strength ? This question is almost an insult to common-sense ; therefore, we will proceed. Near the north extremity is a doorway, but it has been modernized ; and the one entering into the Court of Chancery has shared the same fate. Three of the twelve windows have been stopped up, and four garret windows have been stuck into the roof, as on the opposite side. In the entablature below the windows, w T hich continues round the hall, we find it entirely filled with arms and devices, most excellently sculptured ; and we may likewise perceive the numberless holes, cut among the ornaments (a ruthful business) for the purpose of insert- ing the scaffold-poles when galleries are erected on public occasions, as at coronation feasts and state trials. We must not fail to observe that the several windows have as yet in no way been altered or damaged ; and likewise to dwell with a degree of delight on the shield-crowned brackets, from which the timbers of the roof take their springings. The lantern in the fourth division of the roof from the south is of an hexangular form, and is an excellent effoit of art in that way. These objects in our ancient halls were for the purpose of letting out the smoke ascending from the fires on the pavements below ; which custom is still kept up in our universities, and other * Engraved in "Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. 7o A rchitectural Innovation. public buildings, as we find in the college-hall in the deanery of the adjoining abbey. [1800, Part L, pp. 300-302.] Why do we droop ? Why are our spirits sunk so low ? Must we leave this scene in all the bitterness of regret, imbibed from these our observations and reflections made on its dishonoured state ? How are human affairs parcelled out ! In what a seemingly strange inconsistent way do we receive our share of life's employments ! Here we find this wondrous hall thrown into the power of those who, from being insensible of its grandeur, have left no means unused to render it as contemptible as possible ; while we, who may be said almost to idolize it, are cut out from raising a hand to preserve it from insult, and can only deplore its unfortunate lot. Yet not wholly so, my friends ; for in this survey some satisfaction may fall to our share by catching at the hope that we may have made one convert to venerate and to feel for the suffering majesty of the place. If so, our labour is not in vain ; and, if our mite of preservation should out- weigh that particle which holds its fate, our portion in its welfare is of more importance than we were aware of. Therefore, companions in my researches, my pleasures, and my pains, revive, recall our enthu- siastic phantasies, and let this hall once more resume its wonted state, and, as of old, once more appear in pomp and splendour. See hand to hand and cup to cup those warlike knights ; 'tis to friendship, 'tis to loyalty ! — See yon cheerful souls, with thoughts en- riched from traffic's golden tide, ply well your dainty viands ! — The sighing lover and the bashful maid forgetting to feast on other food than sighs ! — Ply, fly your jests, your gibes, ye laughing crew : mirth encircles all your brows ! — Ah ! reverend sire, your tale of former times makes me a listener ; and here I could for ever stand ! — Good Tony, I cannot brook such cutting jeers, reproofs wrapt up in sense- less fooleries ; we are all frail at times ; must feel the lash ; I pray, forbear, good Tony ! — The miser and the spendthrift, the gay and the sad, the wise and the foolish, the gamester and the wittol, all, all crowd the plenteous boards that fill the hall. The monarch takes his share of joy and festivity ; he invites, and he bestows ; he sees his subjects happy, for he in very deed doth make them so. Day after day thousands here bless his name; welcome and good cheer lead on the way. — Hark ! the minstrels come, with lute, cittern, crewth, dulcimer, harp, pipe and tabor, sackbut, regalls, trumpets, captivating sounds ! to animate and to subdue the listening soul with sweetest harmony. I hear, and I resign my every sense to joys immortal ! And now they vault ; then swift they turn in mazy folds of tortured shape. Sweet lovely form, that trippest so lightly as you go, your dancing steps, and twining arms that strike the graceful tambourine, are all enchanting ! Another female form on a proud courser, with The A ncient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. J i every brave accompaniment, comes prancing nigh the monarch's lofty seat. She calls him to the war, reminds him of his honour, dignity, and justice. She then, in courtly guise, dismounts, and, to compose his ruffled mien, she chants, she gaily skims the open space in many a sportive round. Her blandishments of female softness melt the royal host, who, forgetful of his sceptred state, almost holds out his longing arms to clasp her to his melting breast. The martial sports now call on every eye. Each spectator becomes a combatant. Shouts of manly courage, exclamations of feminine tenderness, martial melodies, clank of arms, flying banners, neighing steeds ! Confusion holds one universal sway ; and from the humble yeoman to the mighty king the heroic fervour of all-glorious arms flies round this regal hall. Here let imagination resign her pleasing sway, raised by " honest John Stow's" descriptive pen, and my picturesque and antiquarian- struck ideas, to plain, ocular demonstration. In an account of the coronation of James II. are many plates illustrative of the various ceremonies attendant thereunto ; one of which gives the plan of this hall, showing the setting forth of the different tables for the royal feast. At the south end of the hall there appeared a large chamber, called the Court of Wards, of which no traces are now to be seen. Passing by the porch of St. Stephen's Chapel, we come into the interior of the Court of Requests, now an entire modern room, erected on an original basement story (as observed in a former number [ante, p. 63]). On the east side, a door admits us into the interior of the Painted Chamber. Two correspondents in your vol. lxix. have well prepared your readers for the information I have to convey. The first ("An Englishman," p. 552), by giving the motives for the intended demoli- tion of these buildings ; and the other ("An Artist," p. 661), in calling the attention of all to the antiquity of this chamber, and to the treasure it contains, that is, its invaluable tapestry. I must confess, in behalf of my fellow-investigators and myself, although an accumu- lation of filth and rubbish in this chamber in every part, as it were, pushed us from its survey, yet a peculiar impulse agitated our frames, a certain something that cannot be named led us on to view the very walls, the doors, the windows that our forefathers, age after age, have gazed at before. This sculptured ornament that now engages my eye may, at one time or other, have been a point of attraction to the notice of a Becket, an Edward, a Wickham, a good Duke Humphrey, a tyrant Richard, the sacrilegious monster Henry, the princely Wolsey, the unfortunate Charles, or the usurper Cromwell. What a scene is here for reflection, for admiration, and abhorrence ! In this mood should visitors enter this chamber, which has retained its original finishings for so many centuries ; not with those usual low, narrow-minded expressions made use of in this chamber, such as, 72 A rchitectural Innovation. "What a filthy place!"— "As dark as a dungeon!" — "Quite like a prison !" — " What brutes must they have been formerly to have lived in such a hole !" When it is never considered that the Painted Cham- ber has not been cleaned for these forty years past; that three parts of its windows have been stopped up j and that many similar buildings have been barbarized down into places of confinement for robbers and murderers. In the like way they contemptuously glance at the tapestry, which covers every part of the walls — a sight of disgust to them, of rapture to us, and on which we could for ever dwell. In this tapestry are the finest representations of ancient buildings, dresses, and all kinds of armour; which, in its present state of wanton disfigurement of dirt and rags, to a common observer can hardly claim a moment's notice; while to us Antiquity's fervent votaries are discovered a thousand charms, a thousand beauties, which be it our business to lay before our approving readers for their delight, and, what is of more importance, their historic information. Reverting again to the last of the above-mentioned correspondents ("An Artist"), who tells that he had cleared much of the dust from this tapestry, had taken various sketches from it, speaks of its dimensions, and of some of its leading peculiarities, I must thus say of him (he being at work while we were on our survey), that he is more known for his industry and care in copying antiquities with his pencil, and by the truth and boldness of his pen to preserve them from destruction, than for his good fortune in having an opportunity to put in practice the experience of the one, or of being thanked for the good intent of the other. However, I hope his sketches will not be lost to the world, but, by some future publication, they may be in the possession of every lover and encourager of the study of anti- quity. [1800, Part /., pp. 422-425.] Before we enter on the tapestry, let us examine the state of each side of the chamber. First, the west side, on which we entered through a modern doorway cut out of the thickness of the wall. Above are the vestiges of Saxon arches, being some remains of Edward the Confessor's work, already spoken of on the south side of the Court of Requests. — North side : Here likewise a modern doorway has been cut through the wall (making the communication with the House of Commons). Beyond is a window (stopped up) ; near which appear two more windows, then a chimney-piece of Henry VII. 's day. From this object to the end of the chamber are many irregular recesses, stopped up, on which little judgment can be given to express their original design. — East end : The windows here are perfect. On each side are brackets supported by angels, on which it may be supposed stood large statues. Above, a modern window has been stuck in (before noted) to shock us antiquaries. This termination The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 73 of the chamber bears a strong appearance as if it had been once used for religious purposes, and that at its first erection it was designed for a chapel, etc. — South side : We first meet a recess (corroborating the surmise just hinted), which is in form like those near altars, to hold the utensils belonging thereunto ; it has been converted into a window. Near this recess is a doorway, now entering into a coalhole. Beyond is a modern doorway cut through the wall, giving admittance to the House of Lords. Farther on we encounter a doorway, which, like the other ancient one, enters into a coalhole also. At the extremity of this side of the chamber is the grand door of entrance, in the true style of the building, which well authenticates history, that it was raised by St. Thomas a Becket, as it certainly is the work of his time. Near the ceiling we perceive a large double window, stopped up. Thus we, who are deeply immerged in the traits of former grandeur, see sufficient proofs that this chamber was superb, lightsome, and convenient ; and as it was once worthy to accommodate royalty, so might it now if properly restored : but beware of that attempt if conducted on the system of modern professional superintendents, or their deputy's deputy. The ceiling is a flat one, and still shows much of its panelled compartments. Some, who think that all our ancient chambers were groined, maintain that the present ceiling is not the original finish of it. But let them be told groined arches were in general confined to basement stories, and the interiors of churches and their chapter-houses. This ignorant mistake has so far taken possession of modern architects, that we find in their pretended imitations of ancient mansions, groined arches crowning their saloons, drawing-rooms, galleries and dressing-rooms (we should call them halls, great chambers, avenues, and bowers). But these our enlightened architectural innovators seek not to follow ancient models, but to improve on them. Upon what account this chamber has obtained the name of the Painted Chamber, we are at a loss to ascertain. Stow is silent about it ; and I believe it will be best for us to follow so good an example, otherwise than by saying that certain markings on various parts of the walls appear somewhat like ornamented compartments, but whose colours, we may suppose, are hid by the many coats of whitewash which have been laid over them. First Piece of Tapestry. — Of the tapestry we shall attempt to give the following concise and comprehensive account ; and begin by re- marking that the first piece coming to our notice (over the chimney- piece) is an allegorical subject of but little consequence, otherwise than showing the manner of our ancient rural situations. The second piece (moving to the right), as well as the other four pieces of tapestry, relate entirely to the siege of Troy ; yet, were it not for the inscriptions, and the names of the several characters worked 74 Architectural Innovation. on the figures, we should instantly believe it to be a striking representation of the manners and customs of the time in which it is supposed to have been executed, the fourteenth or fifteenth centuries; for neither the buildings, dresses, or other appearances, have the least tendency to illustrate Troy's ten years' siege, but the costume of the epochs we have just mentioned. In this light, then, must we view this tapestry, and banishing the heroes of Greece and Rome, con- clude we behold our ancestors in all the splendour and magnificence that heroism and royal munificence could possibly devise. Say it was worked on the Continent, as some have maintained, what then ? Did not our neighbouring States always show the same accommodations in life as ourselves ? All our own as well as their antiquities prove it. And is it not well known, that we and those on the Continent appear abroad at this hour in nearly the same dresses, live in nearly the same habits, and reside in nearly the same kind of dwellings ? On these pre- sumptions, then, let us rivet our eyes, and chain our mind to the subject before us ; and without any more uncertainties of its real historic refer- ence, go on to describe its principal leading features, as if we were de- ciphering the glorious achievements of an Edward III., or a Henry V., England's brightest heroes, and (with only one exception) her best of kings. Second Piece of Tapestry. — We first observe the inside of a magnificent chamber, where a king in his royal robes, crown and sceptre, appears giving audience to a prodigious circle of great personages in their civil habiliments. The chair of state, canopy, etc., are particularly to be noticed. Likewise, we cannot but wonder at seeing a monkey sitting on one of the columns supporting the build- ing. The next scene shows several of the foregoing characters on shipboard. They seem as if preparing to land. The third scene exhibits the hero of the story in complete armour, conveying a beauteous dame, attended by her ladies, on board another ship, with a multitude of attendants of knights and soldiers, some of which are carrying all kinds of household furniture, and a whole-length female statue. In the background is a religious edifice of much grandeur. The fourth scene gives the disembarkation of these noble persons, and their reception by royal hands before the walls of a city whose gcite of entrance is directly behind them. The architecture of the various structures is in the Saxon and pointed arched style ; a com- bination which we everywhere still witness remaining in our ancient buildings. The finishings of the upper parts of the churches, mansions, towers, gates, are particularly satisfactory, as but few such objects are to be met with, our public works having been from time to time altered and repaired according to the new modes of archi- tecture arising during their long periods of existence. The forms of the shipping have much claim for observation, as the amazing change such floating castles have undergone makes the present naval architecture almost a new creation. The dresses, either of robes or The Ancient Palace of the Rings at Westminster. 75 armour, are profusely rich, and are decorated with splendid ornaments of embroidery, gold and jewels ; and the make of the caps, helmets, swords, lances, battleaxes, etc., etc., is curious in the extreme. The most conspicuous figure, in our eyes, is the lovely female above spoken of. Her dress is in the strict costume of the fourteenth century, and is thus to be particularised. Next her person is a tight vest with long sleeves, over which is a robe without sleeves, and open on the sides, discovering the form of the upper part of the body, and showing the graceful folds of the extremity of the under-vest. On the head is a tasteful cap, from under which the golden tresses fall far below the waist. This elegant dress of the fair ones of antiquity is certainly one of the most enchanting fashions that ever added attractive charms to female loveliness. It is much to be regretted that the bottom of this piece of tapestry has been curtailed of some feet of its breadth, whereby we lose a number of very material objects, such as the lower parts of several of the figures, stair- cases, the hulk of the principal ship, and other no less remarkable features of this national costumic treasure. [1800, Part I., pp. 527-529.] Third Piece of Tapestry. — Our attention is first directed to three kneeling personages on the left hand, paying their devotions to a statue in complete armour, holding a sword and shield. The scene is the interior of a building, and, no doubt, designed for a religious one. Below are several royal characters, the principal of whom is in an attitude of rage and despair, while the others seem as if giving him comfort. Near the above three kneeling figures are three others ; one is in the vestments of a bishop. In the background to these subjects are some towers and other mansions. The dresses of these figures show them in their civil capacities. We next encounter a fleet of ships, one of which has battlements on the edge of its sides ; hence the origin of our present naval term " forecastle." On the top of the masts are circular structures full of archers. These ships are full of warriors, many of whom have landed, and are besieging the walls of the city ; some are scaling the walls, and others are attacking the gate of entrance, from which the besieged are making a vigorous sally. We cannot but note one knight, who is mounting a scaling-ladder, and holds his shield to defend himself from a huge stone about to be hurled upon him by a soldier on one of the towers. Another knight is getting over the battlements, assisted by his esquire in a very curious though natural manner. His temerity is excessive, as he is received by a multitude of foes all prepared and ready to destroy him. Here again we must regret the loss of the continuation and the lower part of this piece of tapestry ; the former curtailment leaves the story in the dark, and the latter deprives us of 7 6 A rchitectural Innovation. the principal parts of many of the figures. We can perceive in the foreground vestiges of two trumpeters, who seem the only musical inciters to raise the sounds of war. This circumstance, however, proves that anciently trumpets alone were used in warlike engage- ments. The buildings of this city are grand, and the designs of the towers are much varied. The dresses, both civil and military, are of the most splendid kind ; and the warlike instruments numerous and much diversified in their several forms. A noble banner is set up before the walls, in token of the determination of the assailants to conquer or die. Fourth Piece of Tapestry. — We are now to witness a battle on land, wherein many of the combatants are females. The most interesting objects are a knight and a female in the foreground. The conflict between them is fatal, and terminates in the destruction of the latter. The feeble resistance shown by the heroine to the energetic force of her subduer, who is in the act of severing her head from her body, is well expressed ; and as her listless sword falls, so falls the heart in commiserating her untimely fate. Other females are sharing the same destiny from the hands of their ruthless foes, while the greater part of them are leaving the field, and entering into the walls of a city. The next conspicuous character, in point of situation in the tapestry, is a king surrounded by his valiant knights. Doubly armed is that monarch who bears his subjects' love as well as courage to protect him ; they seem as if ready to engage in the general strife. The great point of instruction to be gained from this subject is, the various attitudes of offence and defence shown either by the spear or swordsmen ; they are strongly marked and decisive. In the retinue of the king are two trumpeters, but unaccompanied with any other performers. The several armours are splendid in the extreme ; gold and jewels, disposed in ornamental designs, are everywhere displayed ; and in the dress of the first female (just mentioned) elegance and taste are happily united ; a light delicate armour covers the whole body, over which is worn a flowing drapery, which, by the openings on its sides, discovers the whole form of the dying fair one. The banners borne by each power and their principal leaders are very profuse and costly, and show their several arms and devices. One banner in particular (that belonging to the female host) must claim all our attention from the bearings wrought on it. In a bend is depicted three female royal heads, while the whole field of the banner is hung with small bells. This embellishment of the banner with bells will now prove how nearly connected this tapestry is with the costume of this country, and elucidate a passage in the " Description of the Decorations in the Cathedral Church of Durham before the Change of Religion in the Sixteenth Century;" where, among the inexhaustible religious reliques, was shown, and carried in procession on festival days, St. Cuthbert's banner, made in commemoration of The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 77 the victory gained over the King of Scots by Queen Philippa, consort to Edward III. After particularizing the many rich ornaments wherewith it was adorned, it is observed that it was " most artfully compiled and framed, being finely fringed about the edges and skirts with fringe of red silk and gold, and several little silver bells fastened to the skirts of the said banner-cloth like sacring bells," etc. This banner was dedicated to St. Cuthbert, to the intent of giving victory in any future battle : and the history observes it never failed "to bring home victory."* The spears appear some straight, and others in sweeping lines. One of the knights on foot has hanging to his side the hand shield, which weapon of defence is observable from the earliest representations down to the sixteenth century ; many of which, both in brass and in iron, continue to be dug up occasionally at this hour, corroborating their historic use. The armour and caparisons on the horses partake of the same species of grandeur as is manifested on the persons of their riders. The gate of entrance into the city is so very familiar to the eye of an antiquary, that we are the more deeply impressed with the idea that the tapestry in question is the work of our forefathers. We are now led into a religious structure, where we find an assemblage of royal characters, constituting a convention, and who are in attitudes of appealing to the Deity to confirm their resolutions. Their robes are highly adorned and varied, and the coverings on their heads show an endless diversity in fancy and true dignity. As we are partial to the desire of assimilating objects in this tapestry to our own remains, the statue seated under the canopied throne comes home to many of our sculptured royal effigies in various parts of the kingdom. Over the city, in the back- ground, are still more royal characters in conference, attended by their guards. Behind them are many tents with ornamental forms worked in the style of our pointed arched modes of architecture. Many fine buildings likewise are seen in this part of the tapestry. We next follow two dignified persons who are entering into another religious structure, which is highly enriched with columns, arches, compartments, basso-relievos, and statues. It is divided into two stories, which are open to the view, to the intent of showing the transactions carried on within them. In the upper story are the two persons just noticed ; they are giving money and assisting in some religious ceremonies before an altar. Two bishops are engaged in nearly the like actions. In the lower story is another altar, under which a person is kindling a fire, while a bishop is blowing with a pair of bellows (in make like those in present use) a flame on the top, whereon is lying a slaughtered lamb, whose entrails an eagle is tearing out. A great number of standers-by are expressing their astonishment at the extraordinary event. This piece of tapestry is * See the "Antiquities of the Cathedral Church of Durham," published 1769. 78 A rchitectural [ nnovation. in good preservation, and uncurtailed, except in some wanton small tearings off at certain modern conveniences. [1800, Part II., pp. 624-629.] Fifth Piece of Tapestry. — The subject gives us a grand battle, where all the circumstances attending the warriors, both of horse and foot, in the modes of charging, close encounters, their armours, swords, shields, lances, battle-axes, falchions, bows and arrows, ban- ners, trumpets, the armour and housings for the horses, are here finely and distinctly made out, and give an inexhaustible store of information in what a magnificent and glorious manner the warriors of old met each other in mortal strife, to decide a controversy by force of arms that human reason could not accomplish. The two heroes of the field are the most obtrusive figures in this representation, they being placed nearly in its centre : one of them is unhorsed, but who, however, still maintains the combat. We must not fail to gaze at the device on his shield, which is the portrait of his fair mistress, for whom the bloody scene before us is carried on. To the left, a knight is conveying another wounded knight away on the fore-part of his horse's saddle. Near him is the principal monarch of the royal heroes, who is on full charge to meet his enemies. On the right is an uncommon sight to us at this day, which is the manner of taking a prisoner in former times, who appears disarmed of all his armour and arms, except the lower part of his face. In this guise his victor is conveying him into the gates of a city ; his helmet, of royal make, and the other parts of his armour, being carried before him in triumph. On the walls of this city are male and some royal female spectators, attended by trumpets. Our attention is now directed into the interior of a palace within this city, where we behold columns, open compartments, hangings bordered with jewels ; and on the left is a curious clock, whereon we find the hour twelve in the place of our hour two. Here we see an interview of royal females with certain noble male person- ages in their civil robes. The principal female is that lovely fair one already spoken of in our second piece of tapestry. Her dress is in the same taste as there noticed, but far more delightful, if possible, by means of an airy transparent drapery, depending from her head-dress, and which gives the most graceful employment to the hand that holds it. The right corner of this piece of tapestry has been cut away to accommodate it to its present situation. Description can go but little way in detailing the multitudinous objects that enrich the several figures before us. Imagination in this delineation, it might be con- cluded, would here have been exhausted by our ancient artists, but their genius knew no bounds — it was infinite ! And although certain professed antiquaries among us will not allow them the least degree of merit, yet be it my lot to revive in the minds of the public, that ail The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 79 excellence is not either confined to the Roman and Grecian schools, or to the presuming dictates of modern art. Sixth Piece of Tapestry. — A fourth battle engages our attention. The death-dealing phalanges are here shown in the most furious degrees of action ; direful blows, mortal thrusts, and falling knights, are everywhere attracting our distressed sight. The hurry and tumult incident to the "battle's rage," in this dreadful scene, is surprisingly depicted ; and we almost believe ourselves drawn into this " tug of war," to see the horrors, and to feel its woes. The most conspicuous combatants are, first, two on the left hand : one has brought the other to the ground, and is putting a termination to his existence. The other is an archer, who, while he is enjoying the barbarous emotions of having transfixed his antagonist, is insensible that he has himself received an arrow through his own body. The forcible actions that might here be described are so abundant, that, to enter on their illustration would far exceed the limits of our essays ; therefore, we must confine our notice to those objects that cannot be dispensed with. On the left, in the background, are parties of bowmen engaged with each other. One of them is interestingly remarkable, being armed with a cross-bow. Of all the representations of this weapon that I have ever seen, they have either been drawn so small, or so ill made out, that not much information could be derived from them. But here we see every minutiae belonging to the engine, and the manner of its being charged and shot off. Of the armours, weapons, banners, etc., our mind is at a loss to give a further description ; and what has been said of the foregoing battles must apply to this — they are " infinite." The general background is filled with buildings of all descriptions, that the most eager investigator into ancient architecture's mazes may here find ample examples to enrich his store of knowledge in that noble science. Let me recount a circumstance that occurred the morning on which I was making these, my memoranda. The House of Lords had then met for the purpose of adjournment.* The artist who was copying these pieces of tapestry went to the bar of the House, and addressed a noble lord on the subject relative to them, who instantly, with the Lord Chancellor and the other peers, came into this chamber to behold these remnants of antiquity. They did him the honour to attend to his observations, and appeared, by their condescension and their questions, not to be insensible of the importance of the objects of his praise, either of the chamber itself (which public information had made known was to be destroyed), or of this inestimable work, the tapestry. One of the noble lords observed, he remembered in some adjoining chambers a prodigious quantity of the rest, as he conceived, of this tapestry, though it was unknown to what destiny it had been decreed. * In the summer of 1799. So Architectural Innovation. On hearing this remark, my opinion of the original use of this tapestry was strengthened in believing that, at its first hanging up in this palace, it covered the walls of the great hall, for on measuring the width of this tapestry, and the height of the space from the pavement to the sills of the windows, I found that it exactly fitted such a situation. It is idle to suppose that it always was in its present place, both from its curtailment, portraying the history it is professed to represent, or that so gorgeous a performance of art should have been cut to pieces at certain parts to accommodate it to the ancient doors, etc., etc., in this chamber. No ; its prior situation was certainly in the great hall ; for Stow, speaking of a royal feast given by Henry VII. in the hall, expressly mentions (among other splendid subjects) that it " was richly hanged with arras "* Do we not read in many of our old plays, f and in particular in Shakespeare's dramas, constant allusions to the siege of Troy ? What was their inducement so to give reference to such a subject? Why, this famous tapestry, shown on the walls of the great hall in their day, ever before their eyes, and of which we have now (by comparison of the hall's magni- tude) so small a part. After our survey of this chamber and its tapestry, whatever may be their end, I shall have the exulting satisfaction to know that I have done my part in apprising my countrymen of the historic treasure yet in being (this chamber and its tapestry), which if the one falls, and the other is annihilated, it will be remembered who were the advisers, and that a page will be torn from our national history, which they so satisfactorily explained and illustrated ! The Interior of the House of Lords. The basement story yet shows much of its original work, such as doors, windows, arches dividing the length of the crypt into two distinct parts, a circular staircase in the north-east angle, and near it a curious necessary convenience, singularly roofed by a number of corbels supporting flat stones for that purpose. This crypt appears never to have had any groins, and the covering overhead is the mere flooring of the chamber of the Lords above. Among the many places pointed out for the spot where Guy Vaux was found (as supposed) standing with a light among some barrels of gunpowder, this crypt is maintained to be the right scene where the notorious gunpowder-plot was to have been played off. % This plot is now pretty well understood not to have been hatched by the Papists, * A name most probably derived from this kind of furniture having been at first invented or worked at Arras, a town in French Flanders, t Dodsley's " Collection of Old Plays." % By way of giving strength to this assertion, a solemn examination is here carried on, the day before the opening of each session of Parliament, for the purpose, no doubt, of discovering new Guy Vaux's and more barrels of gunpowder. The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 81 but by an inveterate foe of the Catholics of that day, the famous minister to James I., for the purpose of entirely rooting out the rem- nant of the professors of that religion which their ancestors had believed in for so many ages before them.* However, all well- informed minds at present laugh at the whole of this business ; but very few seem to be sensible of the shocking tendency its annual commemoration leads to. It is a day of initiation to thousands of infants into the infernal deeds of unbridled mobs, lawless depreda- tions, drunkenness, swearing, fighting, and that diabolical frenzy of the lower class of Englishmen, bonfire-making. France has her massacresjt England her wide-exterminating fires. I Dreadful com- parison ! The principal story (or the chamber of the Lords) now shows a sort of architectural finishing in a mode used some forty or fifty years past, a part of which (the coved ceiling) would ill beseem a common county hall. By a print of this chamber published in James I.'s reign, it appeared then to have preserved much of its original work. The tapestry, indeed (which is not shown in the above print), gives it a consequence which else would but ill accord with the royal state of Britain. This tapestry then presents a faithful representation of the Spanish Armada, and the portraits of those great warriors who contributed by their prowess so much towards its utter destruction. The information it affords of the costume of that era is of the highest consequence to our historic records, and has been well given to the public in several engravings by the celebrated artist Pine ; therefore, any further illustration of its merits in this place would be quite unnecessary. Interior of the Prince's Chamber. Here again the modernizing hand of makeshift accommodation has bemeaned this royal chamber ; and we might find more decent furniture (excepting the canopy of state) in a rendezvous house either in Wapping or in the purlieus of Tower Hill. From this un- favourable detail of these two remains of the chambers of ancient magnificence, it is no wonder that common observers give in to the general wish to see more modern and more respectable apartments for the reception of majesty and of the peers of the realm. We almost, by some of the objects around us, fall in with the current of alteration ; but our recollection recoils. What shall we not lose by the proposed change ? Why, the walls themselves, which, as already shown, bear the features of historic evidences. We tremble for their annihilation ; and, although professional men may say more room is wanted for the additional attendants on national transactions, yet why must the Painted Chamber and the other ancient parts of this. * See Mr. Milner's answer to Dr. Sturges's " Reflection on Popery," p. 170. t 1572, 1792. X 1666, 1780. VOL. x. • 6 82 Architectural Innovation. palace be destroyed, when the desired space and other conveniences may be acquired, by carrying out the Lords' chamber more eastward, whereby no national antiquity would then be torn from the public eye? But why seek I to stem a torrent? Perchance my efforts already to that purpose may go nigh to overwhelm my honest hopes (it may be presumed) of one time or other being thought worthy of being consulted in matters relative to the repairs or restorations of some one or other of our ancient edifices. My long and dear- bought experience in such studies would then know some moments of recompense for all my labours. To return. As it is, I fearfully bow to high resolves, which cannot look down on my humble repre- sentations ; I am conscious of my error, and therefore now resume the thread of my narration. The tapestry here, like that in the adjoining chamber, from its in- trinsic worth adds a grandeur, which, however, must be considered an accidental decoration, as some of its most material parts have been lately cut away for the purpose of introducing doorways, etc. ; and wooden sconces are screwed up, to hide and disfigure many of its chiefest beauties. It may be necessary first to premise that the tapestry before us is, from the forms of the buildings, dresses, etc., of the reigns of Henry VII. and Henry VIII. As such, then, let us comment on the first piece of tapestry, on the west side of the chamber. First Piece of Tapestry. — On the left, is a delineation of the birth of some royal infant, where we see a grand bed with all its hangings and all the necessary decorations on such an occasion. We see the mother in bed receiving cordials from attending ladies ; while the infant, in one part, is being bathed, and, in another, receiving the breast, more ladies assisting for these purposes. Sweet-smelling herbs are thrown into a fire in a movable furnace, of a curious construction, in the middle of the room, where we find eggs roasting, for the use, no doubt, of the indisposed mother. The centre of this tapestry is cut away for a modern door of entrance. To the right is a king in all his regal state, accompanied by his nobles and guards, giving bis royal mandates on some important subject ; most probably on the above occasion. From the dignified air, and the form of the figure and dress, it greatly resembles the familiar portraits of our eighth Henry. The mixture of the styles of the building, of the pointed-arch work and the then newly introduced parts of the archi- tecture from Greece and Rome, is very richly exhibited. Second Piece of Tapestry, on the North Side. — In opposition to the deep-rooted prejudices in favour of the performances of foreign artists, and for subjects of foreign history, I maintain that the design and execution for this work (in point of drawing) is equal to anything they ever produced. It describes a battle in its utmost fury, where the knowledge of the imitative art is manifested either in the dis- The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 83 position of the principal figures, their contrasted attitudes, or in the natural perspective diminution of them. It is impossible to single out any one group in preference to the other for particular admiration; all are alike pre-eminent in the terrific display of this scene of death. One hero has his enemy under his foot, and is thrusting him through with his lance ; the same fatal end is given to an unhorsed knight by his conquering antagonist, whose foaming steed is trampling him under his feet. Another knight, in all the complete costumic habili- ments of war, is unhorsing his opponent ; and for a moment all our pity is bestowed on the falling courser, who has received a lance in his generous breast. Now we are entranced in beholding the two royal competitors for the victory of the day. Their mortal animosity is so livelily drawn, that words are vain to tell the delineations of their tremendous struggle. Our sight becomes deluded, and we almost see the whole picture animated before us ; we hear the clash of battle-axes, swords and lances ; hear the dying groans of the van- quished, and the triumphant shouts of the conquerors ; see the flying banners become the prize of manual force ; see, indeed, the utmost stretch of human genius. The pencil can do no more j and we here are satisfied at the efforts of its divine art. I now reluctantly remark that a great part of this tapestry, to the left, has likewise been cut away for a modern doorway. Third Piece of Tapestry, in Continuation of the North Side. — From what little is left of this piece, after its curtailments and cuttings away for a modern door, we can just make out that it shows the rout of the subdued party of the foregoing described battle. The confusion attendant on such an occasion is well manifested ; the orders given by the commanders seem totally disregarded, and personal safety the only immediate business of each runaway. At a distance are the females belonging to their camp, who are guarded as well as circum- stance will allow. In the extreme distance are flying parties still in the act of destroying each other, and to the right are buildings of a magnificent city. fourth Piece of Tapestry. — A rural subject, whose figures appear allegorical, which, being unallied to our present theme of illustration, we need not enter upon. I shall now only hint that I read of proposals for publishing copies of the cartoons of Raphael (so often engraved before) ; but I hear of no subscription set on foot for encouraging the bringing before the public engravings of the pieces of tapestry which I have brought to their notice; the former having but one claim to their regard — that is, their fine drawing — while the latter have every tie on their patron- age, their fine drawing, and their historic merit. A society, instituted for the study and protection of the works of antiquity, to be sure, by one or two of its members, had some feeble thoughts that way ; but an artist belonging to their body having been the proposed hand 6—2 8 4 Architectural Innovation. to perfect such an undertaking, the whole fell to the ground, he unfortunately being a professed admirer and defender of the antiquities of this kingdom. The Interior of St. Stephen's Chapel and its Cloisters. [1800, Part 11. , pp. 722-726.] In these piles the genius of architectural innovation stands before us in all the callous prejudice of modern art. His wanton and barbarous sway here knows no bounds ; wherever the eye is turned, the most shameful havoc has been made on some of the most inestimable works of architecture that ever adorned this country, and perpetrated in a way that will for ever reflect something more than disgrace on those who first gave the orders for the sacrilegious disfigurement, and for the converting many of their parts into uses the most low and contemptuous. My honest zeal in behalf of our national antiquities would here be excessive, did I not consider the fate that yet awaits them — a fate that can only end in their entire extermination. I have seen the grinning and overbearing joy on the faces of more than one of those who are awaiting the moment of their long-delayed expectations* of raising their "iron hands" to tumble to the earth these venerable emblems of royalty and England's former glory. For them I reserve all the censure of my iron pen. But let me not anticipate the story of the scenes opening to our view j let their present state call on the keen sensations of my accom- panying friends ; they will soon, with me, vent the bitter reproach that such things are, and heave the unavailing sigh that all these insulted glories within a short-lived space will be no more. Already [ante, p. 64] have we been made acquainted with the situa- tion of the cloisters, their attached buildings, the general purpose to which they have for some years been appropriated, and of the entrance into them on their north side. Their erection we owe to the en- lightened mind of Dr. J. Chambers, physician to Henry VIII., and, to use the expression of a celebrated antiquary,! "the architect seems to have rivalled himself in the elegance of the designs of the several groins, each of them differing from the other," etc. Could our pen go on to point out the magic beauty of their varying forms, our praise would never be exhausted ; but, as it is, we must be content to observe that the work of the groins is in the same style as those in the chapel of Henry VII., and that their several centres are enriched with religious basso-relievos, arms, and devices, { the whole of the * Ever since the year 1789, when the idea was first hatched of this palace falling a sacrifice to modern art. See the list of the architects who subscribed their opinions on the business in the public prints of the time. Point me out that " architect " who would refuse a good job for the sake of preserving any one of our ancient structures. t See " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. ii., p. 28. X Many of which are engraved in the second volume of the work last cited. 4 The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 85 most delicate and pure workmanship ; indeed, a perfect school for the refinement of our ancient architecture. I now experience a most severe struggle of the mind, in joining with the silken wreaths of praise the thorny bands of harsh invective and severe reprehension. Well, be it so ; and now speak of the north side of these cloisters, half of which we find unmolested, the other half rilled with menial apartments. The east side is entirely free from all innovations, being, happily for us antiquaries, wanted as a passage to some principal rooms in this residence. Here we may, for an interval of antiquarian delight, behold, uncontaminated by any modern intrusion, one entire range of ancient splendour. How exquisite ! South Side. — The whole line partitioned off into offices of the first requisition, from the larder down to that sequestered cell where Nature tells the proudest of us all we are but common mortals. West Side. — Its southern extremity is parted off to give a passage from the great hall into Old Palace Yard ; while in the rest of this range we find staircases, coal and rubbish holes, the servants' hall, and their kitchen. The exterior fronts next the area of these cloisters show a richness of design unusual to such attendant parts of a religious structure, and we notice over them a continued gallery, the whole work remain- ing nearly in its first order. The interior of the gallery has under- gone (excepting the windows) an entire modern change, bare walls and a covered ceiling being the poor apology for (we may naturally conclude) elaborate wainscoted panelling, and the open or compart- mented timber ceilings usual in the upper stories of ancient apart- ments. In this area, and projecting from the west cloister, is one of thosf rare and delicate morsels of art which appear to have been the crown to the fame of our ancient architects, a private chapel or oratory ; which, whether intended for religious purposes only, or annexed to a monumental design, were usually carried to an excess of workman- ship that knew no bounds but what elegance and true taste restrained. The plan of this chapel is oblong, with three cants of an octagon eastwards. Standing at its west end, we are entirely carried away (while our eyes are raised above the capitals of the columns) by that enthusiastic delight to which we have so often in these pursuits had occasion to give way. Shall we tell of its minute parts, its diversity of interwoven compartments, its ornamental devices ? Or shall we enjoy this mental feast in silent ecstasies ? It must not be so. Far otherwise be now our thoughts ; for, to all the parts below, sacrilegious frenzy has nearly done its worst. Here, where the altar stood, a door has been knocked out, to give a view into the kitchen of the master, placed in the centre of the area of the cloisters. The windows to the right and left give place to two 86 Architectural Innovation. coppers ; of the two windows in continuation on each side, one makes way for an oven, and the other is decorated with a stone cistern placed against it. The rich compartments, filling up the divisions of the north and west sides, have been cut away for doors, shelves, the hanging up of wicker bottles, skewers and pudding-cloths. The west side is an entire blank, all the parts having been demolished. Indignant inquiry is confronted with being told this place is the scullery ! Since I drew a view of this chapel in 1791, its fate has been much aggravated. After the demise of the late Duke of Newcastle, some assurances were given in a certain society of men, many of whom are fond of the study of antiquities, that a proper attention should be paid to so precious a remain ; but conveniency — " I love to line my belly planks ; Care I for F. A. S.'s thanks ?"* On the story over this chapel is another of the same style, which, before the ceiling was destroyed, appears to have exceeded it in grandeur, by far more numerous decorations of niches for statues, etc. It is now a sleeping-room for servants ! St. Stephen's Chapel appears to owe its foundations to William Rufus, to have been in part rebuilt by Edward I., and brought to the summit of all magnificence by that illustrious patron of the arts, Edward III. The rolls containing the whole business relative to the erection of this chapel are still preserved in the Exchequer. How dear and valuable a mine of instruction this account would be, if published to professional men, who might wish to be made acquainted which way to construct their edifices so that they might stand the blast of time for at least fifty years to come ! In this structure Edward left no means unused to collect all the skill and science in his kingdom ; and so eager was his desire to fix architectural perfec- tion on this spot, that many of the counties in England were ransacked for the most celebrated artists to effect this purpose. I must own that, being prepared with this information, my expectation was raised to the highest pitch; and, as far as what is left of this acme of human art to enable me to judge, I solemnly declare, correcting my opinion by years of experience in the study of our ancient architecture, that this chapel, before the sacrilegious days of the sixteenth century, must have been the first of all the architectural works in the land, where sublimity of design, grandeur of arrange- ment, richness of ornaments, where sculpture, painting, and gilding, dazzled the rays of vision to receive an emanation of those realms of light which await the blessed. No common praise is now my theme ; had I the eternal-catching comprehension of the inspired Milton, I could but faintly tell the wonders of this place. I may, indeed, con- * Lines from a Hudibrastic MS. called "The Pursuits of Antiquaries from the Year 1791 to the Year 1799," now (we are given to understand) under considera- tion to be laid before the public. The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 87 ceive in some degree their refulgence ; but the effusions from my pen must fall far below their most distant rays ; yet not so low, but some few sparks may awake insensibility to regret that something more than a cold introductory narration of facts had not preceded the engravings of the plans, elevations, sections, ornaments, etc., of this chapel, published by the Society of Antiquaries, and which thus concludes : " The Chapel of St. Stephen was soon after- wards (the first year of Edward VI.) fitted up for the meeting of the House of Commons, which had before usually assembled in the Chapter-house of the Abbey of Westminster, and has since con- tinued to be appropriated to the same use to the present time," without one word in commendation of the edifice which was to be illustrated. That we may not deprive the indefatigible hand who made the drawings of the said plans, elevations, etc. (where we find he has, from the existing authorities, attempted a restoration of the elevations of some of the works, and particularly in his restoration of the interior of the small chapel in the area of the cloisters), of one half of the reward of his labours, be it understood, that it was he who wrote the description of the several plates, where, like a true antiquary, in particularising the minutiae of the ornament on the columns, entablatures, etc., he exclaims : " But the artist (the architect of the building) designed that the whole of the work should have the same attention paid it ; and that one universal blaze of magnificence and splendour should shine around, making this chapel the ne plus ultra of the art, worthy of the saint whose name it bears, and of its founder, Edward III., the great patron of ancient architecture." Lest I should be thought singular in selecting this sentence, I believe the pages of this magazine, the professed repository for subjects relating to our antiquities, have already borne them, and ushered in by the legitimate father of antiquarian studies, the very learned Director of a Society which he formerly thought worthy his presence. The undercroft, or basement chapel, consists of five divisions, made by clusters of columns supporting the groins (in which are bosses with rich religious basso-relievos*) of simple and massy forms, well calcu- lated to sustain, and give a pleasing introduction to, the light and refined elegance of the profuse enrichments in the chapel above. In the first division westwards, on the right and left are doorways ; one an entrance to and from the great hall, in the avenue of which are still the original stairs ascending to the above chapel, now turned into a lamplighter's lumber-hole. The second and third divisions have on each side windows of a very noble fashion ; the fourth and fifth divisions, their sides plain. No traces are visible of the remains of the altar, modern pointed windows usurping its situation. The * Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. ii. 88 Architectural Innovation. innovations made here are as follows : the first division is a common thoroughfare from Old Palace Yard to the great hall ; second division, a store-room for all the rubbish of a low mechanic and his necessary receptacles, with the Westminster pillory, and, till within these few years, the Westminster ducking-stool ; third division, boarded off into apartments for the said mechanic ; fourth and fifth divisions converted into the principal eating-room of the adjoining habitation in the cloisters, etc. " Surloins of beef and drinking glasses Are here the only sight that passes, Where erst in solemn pomp took post The silver chalice, wafer'd host." * The original stairs of ascent to the porch being now turned to other purposes, new staircases have been constructed to give admit- tance to it ; and, for the sake of putting a guinea or two into the pocket of some hedge carpenter, a common fence has been put up, for no other purpose, one would think, than a pretence to mutilate the screen of this much-admired porch. I have in this survey before dwelt with rapture on this screen, and could again and again repeat the delightful task ; but our observation is now led to the interior of the porch, where we discover the original ceiling is wanting, all the other parts remaining unmolested except the lower range of compart- ments of the screen, where the said hutch like carpenter has made certain accommodations for servants and loungers to annoy the passers-by below. Could I but convey one glimpse of the excellence of this little spot to the eyes of him who could preserve it, those hovering phalanges of architectural innovation would soon be driven into the distance of disappointment, their hopes of demolition would then be no more ! We are now in St. Stephen's Chapel, where not the least particle of antiquity can meet our attention ; the fitting-up for the meeting of the House of Commons has so completely shut out from the face of day St. Stephen's " holy scene." " Here stools and benches, sconces, matting, Take place of stalls, missals, copes of satin ; Here ink-horns, maces, speaker's chair, Take place of altars, crosses rare ; For shining paintings, gold and silver, Here's wainscot boards, ye cannot pilfer ; Here's everything which was not then : Here's, No ! Yes ! for Oremus, Amen .'" f Therefore, in order to empower me to go through my investigations, I, like another Guy Vaux, with candle and lantern, leading my * Hudibrastic MS. before hinted at. f Ibid. The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 89 accompanying friends, was compelled to crawl under and behind the benches and wainscoting out of the fitting-up, and afterwards to ascend over its ceiling ; from which painful attempt I have been enabled to form some idea of the original design of the interior of this chapel, as so much of the work in these shut-out parts is left to tell a tale, which, one time or other, will make the patrons of ancient art brand the names of those who, by the said fitting-up, have deprived the public of one of the first specimens of ancient art in this or any other kingdom. [1800, Part II., pp. 837-840.] The height of this chapel, in conformity with the plan below, is made out by five divisions. A marble seat of continuation supports clusters of columns, which fill the piers between the windows ; they rise to the springing of the arches of the windows, where, from their capitals, are elevated large compartments. The imposts under the windows are divided by columns, which in an uncommon way strike through the sills of the windows, forming, it may justly be concluded, the mullions of the windows, though now lost in the modern brick- work filling in their openings. The spandrels of the arches of the windows show many compartments ; and the ornaments of the entablature are inexhaustible. In the fifth division on each side, towards the east end, are small doorways, once entering into adjoin- ing chambers. Of the west end there are not any decorations left ; but the east end in many places has yet the lines of the grand window, the site of the altar, and part of its table. By the continued entab- lature over the windows, the ceiling must either have been a flat- panelled one or an open-worked timber roof ; but that demon who first guided the disfigurement of this chapel, from some prejudiced cause or other, has entirely consigned it to oblivion. The detail of the various ornaments, their painting and gilding, which everywhere enriches the building, are beyond the reach of description ; and we refer our readers to the engravings of this chapel, for them to judge of their extraordinary parts, though, it must be confessed, those copies are but as the glimmerings of a sickly taper to the dazzling beams of the glorious sun. In my explorations round, I perceived the columns, their capitals, etc., had been hacked and cut away in all directions, to accelerate the fixing of the timbers of the " fitting-up," with the same uncon- cern as we find every day done on common walls ; and I was at a loss to account from which of the two manias the works of ancient art are the greatest sufferers ; one, because they are the works of those who lived in the enlightened ages of undivided Christianity, or, the other, that they stood in the way of the invading compilations of the architecture of Greece and Rome. Who can define taste, when 90 Architectural Innovation. we look at the clumsy carpentry that ennobles the "fitting-up"? Who can talk of refinement when we behold over the present ceiling air- engines, barbers' blocks, knife-boards, coal-holes, maids' garrets, and men's leaking-holes, mixing their accommodations with the beauties of art in all their burst of scientific perfection ? Here the royal arms, there the plebeian brush and black-ball, coal-scuttles, salt-boxes, and washing-stands, crowd up before the forms of lions, fleurs-de-lis, roses, stars, and crowns ! I can no more; these dishonoured scenes I wish were but the phantasies of the brain, the workings of a mind dis- turbed, the idle images of a dream of air, or anything but what I see. Who are the most distant from " insanity," those who cause and defend this spoliation, or he that has dared to dart the light of truth into such dark recesses ? I then arouse you from your skulking holes ! Fly to low-raised roofs, ye household hordes, where all your kitchen scum, your filth, and rags may lie unseen ! It may now be thought necessary that I should make some remarks upon the intended demolition of the remnant of this palace. I shall, therefore, revert once more to that list of architects, where, at their head, we find the name of a man (since deceased) who, not content with having with the rest declared his hostility against these edifices, delivered in (as I have been given to understand) as hi's own serious judgment that Westminster Hall, which till his presence darkened the hemisphere of ancient art, was looked upon as one of the wonders of the universe, "was a disgrace to the nation." Eternal self-reproof may those patrons feel who sent abroad our youth for architectural improvement, where, sucking in the poison of foreign prejudice, they disgorge its venom on our native architecture at home ! In the bleak regions of the North, where Nature's fires are half extinct, and where antiquarian treasures are never found, absorbed ideas, nurtured in the shaggy outlets of some dreary cave, may not be thought out of Reason's grasp ; but when we meet with men bred in the cheer- ing climes of Albion's happy land, where every noble sentiment is bred, where every generous feeling of the heart is owned, where science, laws, and arms have chosen their seats amidst the throng of worlds, now following in the train of a Northern Architectural Inno- vator, to wait the hour of despoliation ! I own I cannot reconcile so monstrous a contradiction. Remember, these pages will endure, while your scarcely cemented walls will soon pass away into airy nothing; the former, preserved by the spirits of our great ancestors; the latter, raised on the spoils of their scientific glories. I own, poor as I am in worldly means, I would not, for all the hoards ye boast of, change this cheering reflection, that I have done my duty as an Englishman to save this palace, to brood over with remorse the sting of conscience that I had done my utmost to destroy it. Professional people of medium employments tell me that a clear sweep is to be made from Abingdon Street to Westminster Bridge ; The A ncient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 9 1 other orders of men say that the Painted Chamber, House of Lords, and Prince's Chamber are alone to fall ; while some tag-in St. Stephen's Chapel and its cloisters, declaring that to take down West- minster Hall would be such an outrageous attack on the love, duty, and veneration which Britons feel for former greatness, that it is almost the thought of a lunatic to suppose such a thing to be pos- sible. No one informs me who will sweep away the surrounding hovels ; they, it is true, form no part of the emblems of our happy constitution or of our kingly state. Ominous business of new- coining this palace at this mad hour of democracy, when every atom of sovereignty should be held with the most sacred zeal ; nay, almost to idolatry, as a sight pleasing in the eye of heaven ! My own truth and loyalty urge me to these strong admonitions ; I feel, and I obey. The design for a new Parliament House, in a late exhibition, clearly evinces to what extent the innovation will spread. In short, men do not disguise this matter ; they indeed scruple not to say, we will add new honours to our country by our new creations in the sublime art of architecture. No doubt encouragement and confidence drive them on ; or else (here I speak of myself as in their situations) my presumption would recoil, and drive me to some dreary waste to hide my abashed head for ever. Here, my dear accompanying friends, let us part, after having trod these religious and royal mounds together, which to the ancient city of Westminster give a fame that for ages past has told so many deeds of high renown. I hailed your attendance on the north exterior of St. Peter's walls, and now in St. Stephen's porch I bid farewell ; I loose those bands which united our inclinations in this survey. We have been instructed, charmed, and delighted ; and we have been shocked, disgusted, and tortured. But, as it is, who will be convinced, retractive, and determined to preserve and repair the neglected abbey church of Westminster, and the ancient palace of the kings at Westminster ? And who is the man that will restore with a religious attention their mutilated parts, which ignorance and prejudice, not time, have wrought on their most enchanting beauties ? Scarcely had I finished these Westminster innovations, when my anticipating fears began to be realized : for, having received informa- tion that the interior of St. Stephen's Chapel was actually giving way to the general plan for the entire extermination of the ancient palace, I hastened to the spot, where I found that great part of the wainscoting of the House of Commons, hiding the original work on the walls, had been taken down, whereby those parts that had not before been disfigured were then open to the sight. Much of the entablature and compartments under the windows had before my arrival been cut away ; and, as I stood confounded at the havoc, and astonished at the extraordinary beauty of those objects not yet 92 A rch it edit ral In novation. struck at, my attention was called away by a person who told me that he had orders from the Surveyor of the Board of Works, that no one was to be permitted to make any memorandum or drawings from the chapel ; that whatever was pickaxed down into rubbish was to be carefully preserved, etc., with other strange, contradictory, and unaccountable reasons ; and, by way of giving a finishing stroke to his refusal, " Sir," says he, " I have just got rid of the artist who some time back made, by order of the Society of Antiquaries, plans, elevations, etc., of this chapel, and which they afterwards published. He came, he said, to complete those parts of that work which he could not make out when the wainscoting was up. I told him my orders — bid him be gone — so you see, sir, that I am deputy-master here." I was permitted, however, to gaze with admiration unmolested for an hour or two ; when I made such observations as will, I trust, be of the utmost satisfaction to my readers, and render the above description more complete.* On the north side I noticed in compartments, between the columns on the piers of the windows, small whole-length paintings of knights in armour, with their names under them. The frieze of the entabla- ture was filled with shields, and the arms on them were in raised work of a peculiar taste. Between the shields were paintings of grotesque animals and foliage. The whole of the wainscoting on this side not having been taken down, I could not pursue my observations any farther. On the south side all was exposed to view, where, in the com- partments in the piers, were other small whole-lengths of knights in armour, and inscriptions ; and in the compartments made by the columns under the sills of the windows, the forms of angels were most admirably pencilled. On their heads were the usual golden circles surmounted with a cross. They were holding before them draperies whereon were ornamental decorations. The division next the east end gave the three seats for the officiating priests ; and adjoining them a small and delicate doorway, with an enriched arch of such refined execution that I did violence to my feelings when I tore myself from its charms. In the fourth division, in one of the com- partments under the window, was a small ambury for the utensils of the altar, which was bricked up. It was owing to this circumstance, I have reason to believe, that my attendant's civility was excited ; for I had told him in a whisper that in such places it was no uncommon business to find hid some ancient and valuable articles ; and his * The ridiculous and absurd accounts in the daily prints of the discoveries made in St. Stephen's Chapel are designedly introduced to mislead the public, that the loss of such inestimable remains of ancient art may be the less regretted, so that, if a more forcible reason, the cause of antiquity, did not induce me to the dis- closure, the insult offered my countrymen by such lying tales were sufficient cause for me to come forward to confute the same. The Ancient Palace of the Kings at Westminster. 93 fierceness of denial was soon softened into something like curiosity, though not, I believe, much like that known in antiquarian re- searches. Above the sills of the windows I perceive the whole of the work to the ceiling of the House had been formerly made bare to the very walls, for the means of getting as much room as possible for the " fitting up." Thus, what was then left undestroyed, modern in- novators are now putting a final termination to, for the convenience of setting up a few more benches for the accommodation of the additional members from Ireland. Will my countrymen, for the sake of grovelling at the feet of fashion, folly, and fanatical architectural innovation, be so credulous as to believe that the enrichments of St. Stephen's Chapel were only worthy of annihilation, because they were the work of Englishmen ? No ; let me, however humble in my station, incline them to believe, from the judgment of an artist long used to the notice of every species of art, ancient or modern, once more to declare that the paintings, sculpture, and masonry of the interior of this chapel is (I must now say was) of the highest and most perfect design among us that the hand of art ever produced. I stake my credit on this avowal. Thus have I (it may be) all to lose, but much more to gain, the honour and dignity of the ancient arts of my own country. [1800, Part IL,pp. 1051-1053.] As it has long been held necessary that all literary productions should pass the ordeal of criticism, whereby true knowledge and taste may be recognised, at once correcting the errors and improving the minds of men, so is it of no less importance that an architectural standard of criticism should be set up, to guard, in the first place, the dignity and consequence of our national history in its concomitant parts, its illustration, its proofs of authenticity, its time-surviving pro- tectors, exemplified in our public structures ; and, in the second place, to defend them against those audacious modern erections thrust on the public as correct copies of their several forms. Shall criticism be withheld, when we are constrained to blush at viewing them ushered in with the effrontery of being told that, by additional characters, they have diffused numberless improvements on our ancient manner by the introduction of such fanciful creations? And to what extreme depths of regret and lamentation are all our hoards of antiquarian experience dashed, to see a system of architectural disorganization spread abroad to hide from our sight the long-admired wonders of ancient art, to banish from our memories the piety of former times, and to root out from our land all traces of a style of architecture which knew no bounds to its labours or end to its embellishments ! Hardy must that man be who may go about to do away these truths upon the broad basis of fair and open discussion, however sordid 94 Architectural Innovation. views may make him whisper to the contrary ; or, like some spiritless soul, skulking to defend himself from a public demand behind the back of a needy hireling, seek to destroy the fair fame of those who step forward as Antiquity's champions to maintain her dearest rights, and who, armed in all the bright array of antiquarian lore, stand ready to maintain the same. Following in humble distance in the train of these defenders of ancient art, be it my part to erect a pile of architectural criticism which, although it may partake of aerial and mental materials, yet may have some weight in Reason's scale so as to direct impartial minds to judge for themselves, and stem the innovating torrent which thus threatens all our ancient structures. Conscious of the uprightness of these essays, and believing that many of my readers participate with me in my task, I shall go on with these pursuits. Tremble not, my hand ! Spirits of those great names whose remaining works of art I essay to bring, with all their dazzling rays of light, before the too-long diverted eyes of a public, many of whom have been tutored into a prejudiced hatred against them, protect me ! Why need I invoke your hovering shades ? Have I not, from the first hour of my antiquarian researches to the present moment, stood unhurt, when in your man-destroyed walls ? — where, while the tottering vaults or mouldering pillars shook round my head, while lightning pierced your unroofed aisles, or thunder rent your undermined towers,* have I not still remained safe and free from harm ? With awful reverence I own your guardian care ! Then let those who sound the alarm to professional havoc, to innovation and destruction, shrink from the call of honour — I tremble not ! The ensuing remarks were taken from some of our public edifices, in a tour which I made this summer on purpose for the illustration of these essays, and are given in the order in which they attracted my attention. Hence the reader will judge of the propriety of archi- tectural as well as literary criticism. Dunstable. The priory church of this place presents on its west front many of the most remarkable features of the several styles of our ancient architecture, from the Saxon era down to the reign of Henry VIII. It may almost be said to be a school, in one view of that noble science, and it is certainly a national treasure of antiquarian informa- tion. Did the noble owner of the estate on which the church stands but occasionally turn aside from some of the pursuits which occupy his hours, and reflect on this ancient object in its deserved light, he might be induced to believe it would redound to his praise to give * Hereford Cathedral, Chelmsford Church, etc. Stony Stratford. 95 immediate orders for its repair, and not suffer a few griping inhabitants (by setting aside a trifling expense) to pull down at pleasure the decaying (or damaged) parts of this building, as has been lately evinced in the demolition of the turret which stood at the north-west angle. Stony Stratford. Many patrons of our ancient architecture (who, from a desire that their mansions might assimilate in some degree with those of former times, have put up with the ridiculous odds and ends invented by masons and carpenters as resemblances of our pointed styles, stuck about the same) have often in my hearing been loud in the praise of that architect who rebuilt the church at Tetbury, Gloucestershire, and the present one before us ; but, from my memoranda of its design, it will be seen whether such patrons had that knowledge of our ancient architecture which was requisite to stamp an applauding name, or lead a mode of building so dissimilar to the style they affected to admire. The tower at the west end appears to be the only remaining part of the old church ; and we may begin our observations by noting that the west ends of the aisles, and the north and south sides, have nothing to distinguish them from a modern church, but the doors of entrance (each into the said aisles), and the windows, which are made to finish with painted heads, the former having modern panelled doors, and the latter set up without any mullions or tracery; no parapets or battlements to the walls, and a common modern dripping- eaves roof crowns the whole. The east front next the High Street, indeed, seems to have been a laboured business with this our architect ; for, by way of showing his improving skill, he has, instead of giving his church the characteristic square termination, run up an octangular finish, where we find simple plain buttresses and still ruder battle- ments, out of every degree of proportion, or without any of their real dressiness, instead of which we find clapped on their tops modern squared copings. The windows have the pointed sweep, it is true, but then they are of such narrow dimensions, and are filled in with mullions and tracery of such slender and minute work, that, at first sight, I was inclined to suppose the architect had begun his erection by first displaying these windows to show what his design was to have been when perfected, that is, one of the most enriched structures that he could give form to; but his plan fell short in the other parts, as already shown. Prying into the minutiae of the mouldings, etc., I found them under the predominating furor, that we moderns must improve on the ancient orders of workmanship. In the interior, the architect's improving hand has gone great lengths. The groins of the side-aisles, and the body of the church, are of the same heights, which occasions a strange disproportionate appearance (giving at the same time a new arrangement to a religious 9 6 A rch itectu ral Innovation . structure) ; for, the side-aisles being narrower than the centre one, the arches to each are of different spans, all crowding upon the eye in a most unpleasing manner. The mouldings of the ribs of the groins in the octangular east end (to say nothing of those in the aisles) are overlaid with the ornament called husks, introduced from Roman and Grecian edifices into our modern houses about thirty years past. The altar-table is in the French taste of some sixty years' date ; and I noticed pews and galleries penning up the whole space of the erection. French glass sconces I likewise found stuck into the several clusters of columns ; and I further beheld with disgust a Roman, Grecian, and Pointed styled melange pulpit, not alone for the wretched attempt at something, but more so from its being placed in the modern irreverent and indecent situation, directly in the middle of the body of the church, so that, when the clergyman is discoursing on heavenly subjects, he is necessitated to turn his back on that sacred spot where the Communion service is administered. To enter into the detail of the incorrectness of the smaller objects, such as the various mouldings, ornaments, etc., the white painting and whitewashing, would be to descend to a meanness of reprehension far below the intent of these essays. Suffice it to say, the whole of the work looks as if under the influence of prejudiced professional habits, as hostile to a true revival of our ancient architecture as the dire frenzy of political innovation is at this day to true peace and regal authority. Questions to the Architect answered. "P. Q.," page 712, is respectfully informed that the reason why, in the account of the tapestry in the Painted Chamber, I did not particularize the inscriptions on the borders belonging to them was that I unfortunately had delayed that necessary part of my examination till a future opportunity. This business I designed to have entered on this summer, when I went to Westminster for the purpose of see- ing the discovered paintings in St. Stephen's Chapel ; but my exclu- sion there at the same time put an entire stop to this my intent also. " A. Z.," page 920, asks where I got my information of its now being well understood that the Gunpowder Plot was invented by a Protestant, an enemy of the Papists ? Had he looked at the note accompanying my assertion, he might have spared himself the trouble. He likewise wishes to know my reasons for saying that all well-informed persons laugh at the story. By well-informed persons I mean those who are not led away by vulgar prejudice, party zeal, blind bigotry, and worldly interest ; and as, I hope, there are now but few of this description, I conceive I may well be warranted in such an opinion. The Church at Daventry. 97 [ 1 800, Part Il.tpp. 1 1 46- 1 1 49. ] The Church at Daventry has been entirely rebuilt, but not in any sort after the first design ; the Roman and Grecian styles, in heathenish triumph, here give form to a Christian church. Yet, that we may not lose sight of past times, some remains of the priory buildings are yet standing near the fabric, where in a crypt may be found many specimens of our early pointed- arch style of architecture. The Church at Dunchurch. As I drew near this work of ancient art, my late mortification, at viewing pretended pointed-arch imitations and Roman innovations, gradually gave way to antiquarian pleasure : and I with unusual celerity began my memoranda of the curious west door of entrance, the window over it, the north door of the chancel, and the east window. This last work is a charming combination of tracery and the most delicate masonry. In the interior of the church I was not less busily employed on its architectural parts, where my greatest attention was directed to the ornaments and tracery on the sides of the seats ranging along the aisles of the building, inexhaustible in their varying forms. While thus engaged, I received a visit from the clergyman and the clerk ; and I was not a little confounded which to wonder at most, the apathy of the former, who could not possibly conceive what in his church was worth my notice, or the insensibility of the latter, who said that they were burning off (as occasion per- mitted) the old rummaging oak seats, to make way for fine new deal pews ; which, I assure my readers, from those already set up, were very little better, in point of carpentry, than a Smithfield Bartholomew show-booth. They then left me with much seeming contempt for passing my time in such an useless employ as poring over mouldy walls, broken pavements, noiseless figures, and worm-eaten boards. To some it may seem strange when they hear me say my pencil was now guided by the lightning's ray, and my attention to the religious objects around directed by the thunder's awful sounds. Thus environed by Heaven's warning messengers, I continued to collect such materials for professional uses as I supposed might, one time or other, be of service to the public when the originals were no more. Coventry. Hail ! thou mine of antiquarian treasures ! Your cloud-indenting spires, your remnant walls, which yet in broken fragments stand the mark for needy power ; your civil, your religious structures, hail ! Let me take this opportunity to communicate to my friends that I vol. x. 7 9 8 Architectural Innovation. am from indubitable authority (just imparted to me) enabled to declare that in some two or three of our principal cities, ennobled like this of Coventry by its antiquities, certain admirers of such studies, united into societies, have made a noble stand against interested individuals intent on architectural innovation, and have been the happy means to save of late many a precious morsel of historic evidence. Go on, enlightened souls, and with your strong remonstrative arms push back these foes to ancient art ! Still pursue your just resolves, till your generous examples raise in every corner of the land, where but a vestige of antiquity remains, such patrons as yourselves. Then shall these ruthless " iron hands " recoil with terror on themselves, to feel, when fallen from their heights of architectural despoliation, in some shunned retreat, all the direful blows of neglect, desertion, and contempt. St. Mary Hall. Eager to renew the pleasure of once more viewing this building, and dreading that, in the lapse of twenty years since I first entered its walls, some innovating change might have taken place, I hastened to this spot, and found that all was still the same. Man here had made no alteration ; and I forgot for a short interval to muse over that chain of events which I had passed between the years 1780 and 1800 : renovation of the love for our ancient architecture (vulgarly named Gothic) ; ridiculous pretended imitations of its undefined charms ; empires dissolved ; acquisition of antiquarian patronage and its honours ; architectural innovation on our ancient cathedrals en- couraged ; resistance to its fatal effects condemned (by a certain society who should have been the first 1 to come forward for their pro- tection) ; rewards for such perseverance, loss of property, some noble friends, and some public encouragement ; and I forgot also those disasters which have, and still continue to outrage the trembling world. Thus, in a delusive state of mind, reverting to happier days, I prepared for my intended survey, once more free from obligation's chains, which a grateful heart at times is proud to wear. On the exterior of this edifice are many excellent parts for observa- tion. The great north window is particularly striking, having the lower half of its height filled with exceeding rich niches, occupying the spaces between the several mullions. The gate of entrance, the windows to the building in continuation on the left, and the adjoining habitations on the right side of the hall, are alike deserving of praise. In the porch, the ribs of the arch and groins, with the basso-relievo in their centre, claim also our regard ; the subject of which basso- relievo is God on His heavenly throne receiving St. Mary.* We now advance into the courtyard, where on the right rises the east side of * Engraved in Carter's " Ancient Sculpture," vol. i. Coventry. 99 the hall, and on the left are seen stairs ascending into an open gallery, which leads directly into the hall. These communications demand great attention for their singularity of construction. Before we enter into the hall, let us view the kitchen, admittance to which is by a door under the said gallery. This design is truly consistent with the grandeur of the pile, where we find on the north side lofty arches supported by octangular columns, and enriched with bustos, arms, and devices. The east and south sides present four chimneys with communicating arches between them ; and the four windows over these chimneys are in the finest style of architecture, as indeed the whole of the work of this appendage to ancient hospitality evinces. Hence we enter into the basement story of the hall, where, notwith- standing it might never have known any other service than what it owns at present, store-vaults for wine, etc., yet that unabating fervour which characterized the architects of former times is here found in every direction ; and doorways, windows, columns, groins, and sculptures prove their exalted ideas, and my assertions in favour of their superior talents. We are now within the portal of the hall, when, if our Westminster Hall did not stand in my recollection with all its stupendous glories, I should here have been inclined to have bestowed applause little short of that which I have ever given to my native antiquarian zeal- inspiring theme. The south end has the minstrel's gallery, where, above, are hung several suits of armour of the seventeenth century make. The east and west sides contain superb windows, with much of their historic treasure, though greatly damaged ; and the clusters of columns on their piers are supported by religious and royal bustos. The oriel window on the west side, with a doorway into a room for keeping the uneaten viands of the feasts here holden, are highly pleasing to the sight. North end : The great window retains its store of royal paintings ; yet, like those in the other windows, it has not escaped the wanton havoc of lawless depredators. Below this window, and filling in the space from the seat of continuation to its sill, is that intrinsic supporter of Coventry's highest honours, its com- memorator of a splendid event, when royalty and its attendant pomp honoured this hall with their presence : it is, then, that exquisite tapestry which is held so dear by all who prize the smiles of sovereign power. The dimensions of the tapestry are 30 feet in length and 10 feet in height, and divided into six compartments, three in the first tier, and three in the upper tier. In the first compartment (beginning from the left hand) we behold Henry VI. with several of the principal nobility of his court. Henry is on his knees in an ecstasy of devotion ; before him is a covered table, whereon lie his crown and a missal. Behind Henry is the holy Cardinal Beaufort in the same attitude. The rest of the personages are standing, among whom we may readily point out the good Duke Humphrey, and the 7—2 IOO Architectural Innovation. other names that aggrandized this monarch's high-born train. The dresses principally show a vestment next the body depending below the knees, and a robe with large sleeves worn over it. The shoes are long-quartered, a mode never entirely set aside to this hour, as being unquestionably the most becoming covering to the foot. The caps are small and flat, with their brims notched. The king and the figure near him (Duke Humphrey) have in their caps large jewels, and their necks are decorated with gold chains. The cut of the hair of the several portraits is much varied ; and the beards of Duke Humphrey and another principal character are left to flow to an unusual length. Each figure has his neck bare ; and it may be worth observation, that just above the collar of the under-garment something like linen appears. However, it must be confessed, we who are studious in ancient dresses have very little to say in confirmation when such an agreeable covering as a shirt first made part of the wardrobe of our ancestors. Here let us particularly attend to Henry's crown, whence are diverging those bows with globe and cross, which were first introduced in his reign.* Taking in our eyes the whole group, we find the major part of them deeply impressed with the religious objects in their view ; and it may seem rather remarkable that a very small part of their number appear without caps on their heads ; which, however, demonstrates that in the religious ceremonies of Henry's day such coverings were circumstances unheeded and indifferent. In the background are rich hangings, part of which being drawn aside (near Henry), present a distant view of the country. In the compartment above are several of the Apostles, as St. John the Baptist, St. Simon, St. Andrew, St. Bartholomew, St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Thomas, and St. John the Evangelist. Here are likewise two Christian knights, one bearing a banner of the cross, and the other a sword and an anvil, emblematic of courage and fortitude. In the background are hangings and a view of the country also. In the second compartment (in the first tier) is St. Mary in glory surrounded by angels, with the moon under her feet, which is sup- ported by an angel also. The attitude of this divine representation is chaste and elegant, and the robes are such as the most beatific mind would devise, so as to combine worldly garb with heavenly array. On each side of this ascending mother of God are the twelve Apostles in devotional positions. The background shows hills and vales, etc., etc. In the compartment above, the scene is continued ; where we see the heavens opened and filled with angels arranged round the eternal throne. Four of them bear the instruments of the Passion ; and we have here to lament (the antiquary's constant portion) that the subject in the centre has been cut out, and a poor effort of the loom showed in its place the figure of Justice. No * See his portrait on glass in King's College Chapel, Cambridge. Coventry. 101 doubt the sacrilegious despoiler thought his transposition justice / Men who are in constant practice of calling past times dark and barbarous, let them hear my exclamation. Dark were those days, and barbarous were those hands, when our ancient works of art fell sacrifices to avaricious impiety and ignorant fanaticism ! — To return, we are yet able to discern the steps and sides of the throne, with the characters ihs on the top of the work. Beyond a doubt, the destroyed part of the tapestry gave the representation of the Creator, bearing on the cross our Lord Jesus, and the dove between them, which was no more than the usual display of the sign of the Trinity, still common in our ancient sculptures and paintings. Third compartment on the first tier. — Here let antiquaries pause awhile and gaze on the lovely semblances of the fifteenth century. Religion beams in the beauteous circle ; bended knees, hands raised in prayer, adoring eyes, are here the pious charms to draw the soul to follow virtue in a train like this. Forbear intruding thoughts, charged with comparative ideas of modern female portrayed situations ; let me weave on my silken thread, and present to notice Margaret, Henry's consort. She has before her a covered table with a missal thereon. Her crown is on her head; and we perceive in her countenance all those attractions which so adorn the female mind, as affability, modesty, tenderness, and meekness. Has the artist in this portrait belied his feelings ? or is it to hireling historians we owe those unmanly epithets, when they call her proud, unchaste, cruel, and tyrannical ? The lady near the queen is called by the name of Duchess of Buckingham. The rest of this assemblage are wholly unknown, and we must, as in the former instance with regard to the male characters (excepting Henry and the Cardinal), use conjecture to assign names to satisfy our historic curiosity. The dresses of these ladies are a robe, tight on the body, with wide flowing sleeves, their necks bare, and on those of the queen, the duchess, and three others, are gold chains. The covering to their heads is peculiarly graceful ; the queen's more so from the rich addition of her crown. Among the number are two nuns in the full habit of their order. In the background are hangings, and by the side of the queen is a distant view of the country, with a variety of buildings. The tier above shows many female saints, who, we may conclude, with the corresponding male saints on the other side of the tapestry, were the heavenly patrons of the principal persons in the compartments below them. The draperies that adorn these sainted females are in a taste the most refined that can be imagined, so as to distinguish such a celestial company. We may particularly note among them St. Catharine, St. Barbara, St. Dorothea, St. Mary Magdalene, St. Margaret, St. Agnes, St. Anne, St. Apolonia, and a saint in the vest- ments of an abbess. The background to this subject is likewise filled with hangings. 102 Architectural Innovation. [1800, Part II., pp. 1227-1229.] Few, I believe, know how smoothly the moments fly over the head of an antiquary. Lost to the common occurrences of life, he im merges deep into the stream of remote ages ; and every subject dating its origin from such sources emits a charm that never fades : with rapture he beholds, he comments, or he copies by his pencil's aid. Insensible of private concerns, he hears no discordant sounds, feels no piercing cold, nor sees no lowering skies. Yet, should the " pealing" organ's strains wind gently round his soul while musing in the cloistered aisle or kneeling in the stalled choir, when sweet-tuned voices join in choral harmony, he then forgets his mortal coil and all his thoughts expand to heaven. Confessing a frame of mind open to a sense like this, I, on a Sunday afternoon, while engaged in examining St. Mary's tapestry, the psalmody from the neighbouring St. Michael's Church wafted its long-drawn notes, to turn awhile my reflections from the scene before me to own their more impressive power. And ever as the melody died on the yielding air, the heavy toll from far-off Babelake's* passing-bell filled up the vacant hymn. True picture of man's chequered life ! " One while bright scenes abound, And all is hope and joy ; Anon the knell of death Doth all life's sweets destroy. Thus light and shade, thus bliss and woe, Make up our little hour — Fate wills it so. Quitting this sweet dominion of the soul, I return to my survey. The next object in our sight is a chair of state placed at the south end of the hall. It is full of ornaments and tracery, among which is St. Mary with the infant Jesus. The arms of the city have likewise been placed thereon. f On the boarded spaces between the floor and the window-sills, on each side of the hall, are paintings of the arms and devices of Elizabeth. The Earl of Leicester's honours are set forth in the same way ; and many lines of praise inform the visitant of the deserts of those memorable persons. Here are several paintings hung up ; as the half-length of Elizabeth, with the whole- lengths of James I., Charles I., Charles II., James II., William and Mary, George I. and his queen, and his present Majesty. There are also above the minstrels' gallery some ordinary portraits, among which is one of Godiva on horseback. In the timber-work of the roof we find most admirable whole-length carvings of angels playing on musical instruments, which nothing but the most consummate ignorance and stupidity will ever decree their being consigned to oblivion. The instruments they bear are a crewth, trumpet, cittern, * St. John's Church. f Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture," vol. i. Coventry. 103 harp, and a bass flute. The attitude of the performer on the harp is truly divine. This musical selection must convince us (although modern professors in that science, through vulgar prejudice, assert directly to the contrary) that our ancestors' minstrelsy was directed in their performances by parts in score. A doorway on the east side of the hall enters into a chamber called the mayoress's parlour. I have to entreat my reader's indulgence for asserting, in the first part of this survey, that no alteration had taken place in these buildings, my eagerness of research at first rendering me unmindful of the change wrought in this chamber, a mean lath and plaster finishing now obliterating all the original decorations of this " bower for ladies fair." As it is, we pass through it into another chamber of much interest ; and no small satisfaction accrues in finding that the fiend Alteration has not yet set his teeth in these latter boards. Let us still look on the light and airy workmanship of the several parts, which from neglect and want of repair are hastening to that termina- tion so much dreaded by all true and zealous antiquaries. Return into the hall, where, on its south-east angle, is a circular staircase for the ascent into the minstrels' gallery, and at the same time leading into a chamber on a second story, called at present the armoury — much grandeur appearing in its view. From this chamber there is communication with two others, each presenting some enrichments worthy of observation. Descending into the hall, we next find, at the south end, a doorway for admittance into the kitchen (before described) by means of a flight of steps. On the right of this door- way is another modernized chamber (excuse me for my impatience again), and on its left is the old council-chamber. In this place the whole consequence of the magistracy of antiquity rose before me. It was rendered truly valuable from the many particulars with which I was surrounded : as the large table for the books of accounts and other transactions ; the mayor's throne-like seat, and many other seats with stall embellishments ; the hangings, whereon are the arms of Elizabeth ; the massive double doors ; the elaborate carved en- tablature round the chamber ; and its panelled flat ceiling, where, among the carvings, are the effigies of the Almighty on His throne, St. Mary, St. John, St. George, and St. Margarite, and the symbols of the four Evangelists. As I sat on the lowermost bench, I con- sidered that this unique chamber was a rare example to one who, like me, was collecting every ancient material to form his judgment to that strength of determination, so as to decide with an unquestion- able precision on the merits and demerits of all pretenders to a knowledge in the theoretic and practical study of our ancient architecture. Should it be my fortune ever to tread these piles again, still may I meet, as before, their forms unchanged ! And may their guardians continue to preserve that respect for their acknowledged worth which 104 Architectural Innovation. they for so long a period have made known, by permitting them to stand safe from the rage of modern improvement ! St. Michael's Church. Leaving the porch of St. Mary Hall, I, in casting my eyes up to the tower of this church, encountered a new sum of sublime perfection, where, tier over tier, each filled with columns, arches, and statues, I imbibed at every stretch of sight a more refined degree of enjoyment, exceeding the impulse caught before. Again let me name the statues on this tower, in number great, but in point of beauty vying with the sculpture of the heathen school. Sorry I am continually to witness the headstrong adoration paid to the last-named efforts of the chisel by men who would start back with horror if compelled to bestow a breath in commendation of our national sculpture. The truth is they love extremes ; they are on their knees to the representations of Pagan mythology ; but to resemblances of the constellations of the Christian Church they raise their hands to destroy, and their feet to trample on, the attributes of that faith which brings contentment to their roofs, and loyalty to their breasts ; happiness in this world, and joy hereafter. How scientific, how just, is the principle on which the octangular root of the spire is constructed ! remark sedulously the expanding double flying - buttresses ; then dwell on the air-drawn spire, sweetly diminishing line after line into the very atmosphere ; we lose our dazzled sight in its extremest point, and the azure vault of heaven alone ends our visual search. The body of this church, though of prodigious dimensions, though enrichments in excess everywhere appear before us, yet its taste is not of that pure and majestic kind that pervades the tower and spire. Need I say these latter objects owe their formation to the genius and skill of Edward III.'s day? Indeed, the space between two centuries has widely estranged the architectural symmetry of the edifiee. Here let me laud those worthy men who, by their unremitting care and solicitation, have contributed so much to the reparation of this idolized tower and spire, and who have likewise most wisely confined the bells of the structure to an independent frame of timber within the touch of the walls of the said tower, preventing, as far as may be, future harm to any of its time- worn parts. Yet, so much I prize its future safety, that I would be the first to give up the bells, which merrily ring or gravely toll to thought of other times, sooner than the smallest doubt should be abroad, that they by tremulation or concussion might shake Coventry's prize of art into a decrepitude of existence, or into an uncertain prolongation of its fate. In the interior, all arrangement, unity of parts, effect of light and shade, and every circumstance appertaining to such a building, all are Coventry. lost in the jumble of pews, brass sconces, and theatric galleries, aided in this deprivation of ancient sublimity by that leviathan of obstruc- tion to everything that could entrance the eye, the hideous organ- case. Did this monstrous birth, this gloomy prison-house of harmony, receive its conception in the heathenish school ye wot of? I do not confine this question to St. Michael's Church. Some shudderings, repugnant to an antiquary's joys, possessed me at seeing a model for a new covering or ceiling set in the way to catch subscribing hands. The design of St. Michael's Church is of a nature that could never admit of groin- work ; therefore, the ancient architect, with great ingenuity, laid on the walls an open-worked timber roof, in unison of taste, and common to edifices of the date of this sacred fane. Now, our Coventry modeller, to make known his improving skill, exhibits me for a height of some four or five feet, and thirty odd feet in breadth, groined arches ; whereby their sweeping lines are stretched out to such an excessive flatness of arch that, as the nature of groins are for their appearing (by their acute altitude) to have an ascending direc- tion, so here, by this said modeller's refinement, his groins act directly contrariwise, by indicating an inclination to tumble on our heads. St. Trinity Church. [1801, Part I., pp. 31-33.] St. Trinity Church stands not many feet from St. Michael's Church, and not many degrees short in point of dimensions or grandeur of design ; indeed, a twin star, though not entirely so bright in form. The body of this church is less enriched than St. Michael's on its exterior, though I discover much more architectural correctness in the interior ; but when I come to compare its tower, which seems to emerge from the roof, while the basement elevation is lost in the con- struction of the body of the building, with St. Michael's revealed and aspiring pride of art, I crouch in humble adoration, and lay aside the vain-glorious trial. The spire, indeed, may boast its near affinity with St. Michael's other soaring gem ; then on each structure let us bestow equal regard and equal commendation. As the erection of this building bears a remote date, it no doubt needed repair; in consequence, great havoc, alteration, and modern i??iprovements have taken place of late on its external parts, particularly in the north and south windows, by the subversion of their tracery, and the west and east fronts have been in a manner rebuilt. Cruel innovation — un- happy proof of modern scientific perversion ! The mind sinks into the nothingness of living skill in viewing askance the decline of geometrical order, of just appropriation, of professional precision, so ruefully set up to glare upon us in these two most conspicuous parts of the edifice. Did the architect, the mason, or whatsoever was the designation attached to his consequence, when he knocked out the io6 A rchitectural Innovation. original mullions, broke down the battlements, and unshaped the buttresses, turn his perverted eyes from the levelled fragments, and from the dazzling beauties of St. Michael's window enrichments, and disdainfully say, "I will now show my just contempt of such old superstitious work, made up by spells and charms, and of which there is not either beginning or end that I can discover, and here bring in my improving embellishments " ? Did he triumphantly announce and cry out, " My pointed arches shall find new centres ; my mullions, new mouldings, tracery, new sweeps and battlements, entablature and buttresses, such details that no sight ever kenned in dark antiquity. The Roman and Grecian styles gave me the taste I have; then here shall rise their columns, capitals, pateras, and all the architectural gleanings which I have culled from off the beauties of Somerset Place, the Pantheon, Carleton House, the Bank, and the south front of Guildhall, Salisbury and Lichfield Cathedrals, and New College Chapel, Oxford, in their new-invented architectural dress " ? Still more I ask, What other passions agitated his frame ? Did he, when perceiving some of the masonry of the west window fall nigh his person, call to mind the destiny of that man who pulled down the west window of Netley Abbey? — who, persevering in his sacrilegious labour, though warned from the pursuit by repeated admonitions in his dreams, fell a sacrifice to his avaricious pro- pensities, by a great part of the stonework falling on his head, and which crushed him to atoms ? The interior of the church exists in its original state, and still, like its gemmel neighbour, is crammed with the organ-case, pews, and galleries, all in promiscuous deformity, standing up before the sym- metry and unassuming harmony of the native pile. The Priory Church. The Cathedral, or Priory Church, which was situated at about an equal distance from St. Trinity, as St. Trinity is erected nigh unto St. Michael's Church ; each one, as it were, within the precincts of the other. Of the great and famous monastery, originally called u The Priory of Coventry," little now remains but the north front of the north transept of the church and some walls of the attendant buildings. " Behold the instability of these perishable things ; what the pious founder and all other its worthy benefactors had, with great zeal to God's glory, so cheerfully given and bestowed on the structure, endowment, and adorning of this some time famous monastery ; and that with such heavy imprecations and curses upon any that should take away or diminish aught thereof, as the charters before cited do manifest; against which violators of the church, its patrimony, the representative body of this realm had also so often, in terrorem, Coventry. 107 pronounced solemn curses in open Parliament, as whosoever shall cast his eye upon our statutes and public histories may discern, was subverted, torn away, and scattered, in 30 of Hen. VIII. 's reign, after it had stood near 500 years [founded 1043], tne gl° r y of au * these parts. At which time the very church itself, though a most beautiful cathedral and the mother-church of the city, escaped not the rude hands of the destroyers, but was pulled in pieces and reduced to rubbish." Thus exclaims Sir William Dugdale in his illustration of the antiquities of Coventry. What fate attended these particular violators I am not altogether informed ; but, if we consult a very scarce and valuable book, called " The History of Sacrilege," I make not the least doubt some direful circumstances marked their de- parture for another world, there to render an account for their actions in this. The above-quoted history is a collection of public events, brought into one view, of matters relating to the fatal tendency, as so feelingly described by our Coventry historian, and which we find so dreadfully corroborated by our national records ; and on none so miserably have the "imprecations and curses" fallen as on the progeny of the prime mover of all, to the third, fourth, and fifth generation ; and doth not the last living remnant of this unfortunate stock (who least of all merited such a destiny) now drag a wretched existence, which, but for the timely assistance of a most gracious hand, deputed by a heavenly sympathy, had long ere this been left to perish in want and misery ? Arcnitectural innovators, con over this awful lesson ; and think not, by a flimsy pretence of preserving, with a mock show of venera- tion, a few of the pickaxed ornaments of any religious building ye are destroying, though echoed round by " needy hirelings " as acts deserving of public thanks, to elude the vigilant eyes of a discerning few, or the influenza of the "imprecations and curses," though "pronounced by the representative body of the realm in open Parliament" near 800 years ago; and, however some of its stings may be blunted by the tooth of time, many are still sharp enough to pierce ye to the quick ! I, who advance to give some light to develop antiquity's charms, and stretch forth my arms to turn aside the future professional hazard of participating in the " imprecations and curses," am not without my share of that punishment which such heavy inflictions have more or less cast upon us all \ for is regret, or the most poignant sorrow, to be put by, when, from the precious remains of the north transept now before my reflecting sight, I must be so truly sensible of the wonder of the whole structure when in its perfect state ? The minutiae of the parts lead me to Wells's yet unaltered cathedral,* where I find the greatest similitude of style. With me * We have been made acquainted with a proposed repair, and of course altera- tion, which is soon to take place in this edifice. io8 Architectural Innovation. all may participate in the knowledge of that one of our nation's wonders ; quick let our conceptions hurry back to this spot, where for an instant, ere reality awakens our antiquarian dream, let the buried splendour of the Priory church arise ! We behold, we judge, and we but all is lost again, and this poor relict transept leaves but a thought behind ! Then let that thought be turned into action. Drive out those filthy swine; clear off those surrounding sties and hovels ; purify the stagnate air ; and make clean and decent every vestige that marks this hallowed mound. Then henceforth let each son of Coventry's fair city, ever as they pass by this first cause which gave to them a name, bow the head in admiration of its former wealth and fame, and shake the hand as repugnant of its present diminished and setting sun. Those ruined walls in a line of con- tinuation, which I have already hinted as making part of the monastery buildings, I comment on as having much call for regard ; the style of their parts are not common, and bespeak the highest antiquity. Treading on in my constant direction, a few more paces brought me to the site of the episcopal palace of the heretofore bishops of this diocese, where those silent and ideal creations so familiar to those who follow in the track of departed lustre was all that remained to partake of in this dissolved scene. I quit these mind-drawn abodes, and, retiring to the space between the west end of St. Michael's Church and the east end of St. Trinity, I shall there uncontrolled give free scope to all my collected sweets of antiquarian intuition ; at will let them wander out at every pore, where playing awhile in circuitous rays, I take in St. Mary's Hall, St. Michael's and St. Trinity Churches, and still farther, in my " mind's eye," as in their wonted pomp, the Priory church and the Palace. Questions from the Architect. As correspondents have honoured me by their questions, I in return wish to know in what part of the kingdom is there an example of an ancient triangular tower, as much boast has been made ot a modern imitation of such an object in the Duke of Norfolk's park at Arundel ? At what time previous to the literary productions of Sir C. Wren do we read of the term Gothic as being applied to stigmatize our ancient and national architecture? If these questions are not satisfactorily answered, I shall enter into an explanation of the word imitation as far as it relates to archi- tectural labours, and make proposals for a general distinctive appella- tion to be affixed to a science which at present is degraded by the low and barbarous name of Gothic architecture ! Coventry. 109 St. John's Church. [1801, Partly pp. 117-119-] St. John's Church, commonly called Babelake Church, is rich in many of the architectural characters of the Edwardian era. The tracery of the windows is exceeding fine, and the buttresses are superior to the usual forms, being finished with niches and pinnacles. No time will obliterate the memory of the satisfaction I experienced while I noted the workmanship of the west front. It has every grace that art can give ; but our attendant alloy, neglect, and mutilation cast a loathsome mist before me, and I retrospective saw, through their hazy mediums, modern repair and improvement stalk- ing on with annihilating frenzy to perform the same sad part as has been perpetrated on the tower of this church. In the interior my antiquarian alarm beats loud again to animation and to praise. The body of the building, the aisles, chancel, and all their architectural decorations are still in the same unmolested state as when at first they inspired that holy awe to all who entered within their portals. A few there are who still keep alive that solemn glow ; I own I feel it here. From the clean and decent manner in which this church is kept (an uncommon phenomenon in ecclesiastical accommodation, and which by some is considered as bordering too near the verge of superstitious times), I almost excuse the usual lumber of pews and galleries, and the coal-hole filling up the east end of the north aisle. Clearing my way through those very obstructions which were the ostensible reason why the object, whose loss I regret, was demolished — hucksters and dealers in small wares — I arrived on the spot where, some few years past, stood the cross. Which, I pray, of your city's recording trophies is next to fall ? Let some better pretence give consistency to the tearings-out from your historic page than what signed the downfall of such a symbol, to remind the hand of trade that Christianity has among its various attributes justice and honesty. Peeping Tom ! thou patron of merry knaves ! thou who ever charmest the witty and the curious in bands of jest and song ! thou harbinger of Godiva's triumphs ! thou bringer-back of time, to tell who first raised up this city to form an epoch in the life of England's civic mounds ! Constant to your post, still maintain your empire and your fame, notwithstanding some imported friends, from mistaken notions of your wooden frame, have been betrayed into an obsequious ceremonial, as supposing you of mortal mould, which, when they kenned you right, had vowed revenge by seeking to drag you from your lofty seat, to end at once in effectual fire your silent gibes, and Coventry in thee its guardian sprite ! Habituated as I am to frequent disputations with professional men, common observers — nay, indeed, with very many antiquaries — in defence of the accommodations and conveniences of the habita- no Architechtral Innovation. tions of the middle ranks of society in former days against their positive assertions that our ancestors poured through their darkened days in cold, unfurnished, hovelled abodes, and that the "vast" heaps of masonry and the " unmeaning " embellishments composing the edifices of the " barbarous " lords or the " superstitious " religious were the only architectural works that ever presented their " useless " and " deformed congestions " to the " savage " multitude who first beheld them,* I now bring, in proof against such uninformed anti- nationalists, and for the credit of the defensive part I take, that in this city are to be found a prodigious number of houses which in date show as far back as the reigns of Henry VI. and VII. In them may be observed the simplicity of the humble artificer's dwelling, the fitting-up of the tradesman's shop, and the opulent erections, dis- tinguishing the merchant or the magistrate. A professional vade mecum may likewise be made out from the single moulding arch to the ceaseless varying forms of window tracery, compartments, and pinnacles. In short, in this city any caviller, willing to be convinced of the wrong system he has followed, held up by antiquity scoffers, may find the most abundant and unequivocal documents to make him in future respect that era of social comfort which he had before derided. The Free School. This building appears to me to have been the chapel of St. John's Hospital. It consists of a body, windows on the sides and at the west and east ends, with a pointed single-arched vaulting. The east window in its tracery is most beautiful. What attractions beamed from the west front I arrived too late to witness, for modern wry-necked prejudice had been beforehand with me; and I found a new front run up, with such a rebellious rout of anti- pointed arch objects, against all that was true and congenial to the pile itself, that my antiquarian enthusiasm oft raised my arm (poor delusive force) to strike with indignant zeal the bloated excrescences and tumble them into dust and rubbish ! But they mocked my idle rage, and proudly thrust out their purloinings of modern architectural patch- work, cribbed from the no mouldings [sic] of the Rochester screen,t the cupolas of Kent and Ware, J the mural monuments of country masons, the dial compartments from village schoolmasters' cots, and from that self-assuming source of innovating still licked up from the thresholds of the "heathen schools." Then, while the professors of such smuggled principles have, for more than two centuries, held contemptuous sway over our Christian structures, let me now take up * These epithets likewise occur in Wren's " Parentalia," and in most of our tourist's works since his innovating hour. t See No. 1 1 of these Pursuits, vol. lxviii., p. 825 [ante, p. 6]. % Architects some forty or fifty years back. Coventry. 1 1 1 the theme of derision and protest my hatred and scorn for this architect's infidel plunge into the heaven-born system of our ancient art, where, being denied its celestial participations, he has blindly patched up the mass which I now hide my eyes from — that is, this new front of the Free School. Babelake Hospital. As I drew near this pile of silent and retired age the bright- ness of day began to submit to dusky twilight, and I passed under the gateway with all that devotional resignation of which my pilgrim-like excursions so naturally moulded my frame to partake. The south side of the hospital gave a long range of those orna- ments which are so conspicuous in the civil erections already spoken of, and, though viewed over in a doubtful light, yet sufficient to inspect the many meanderings of the ancient carpenter and carver in the ingenious and tasteful trials of their never-failing skill. I entered the common-room or refectory of the poor brethren. Their pittances were very small, and, like their declining age, were daily losing ground in life's fleeting comforts. A piteous tale of bare existence sounded responsive to my sighs as I trod the aisle within the dormitory. Ford's Hospital. [1801, Part I., pp. 221-223.] Returning day renewed my investigating labours, and my course led me towards the Grey Friars Monastery. In my way I en- countered that cabinet of ancient genius — that jewel in the crown of architectural sovereignty, the all-elegant west front of Ford's Hospital, in whose given space lies the whole mine of mansion adornments, indefinite tracery, inexhaustibly varied pinnacled buttresses, pedi- mented, flowing, and still changing foliage. All is fascination, as in some pleasing dream we taste such scientific joys, which, waking, we could never know but in a sight like this. Entering the court of this precious treasure, saved from innovation's maw, I found the richness of the front was still carried on here with the same ideas of profuse design. That professional men may not think this last- recited wonder as bordering on the improbable, let them be told that the extreme care constantly bestowed on this building, whereby its state is almost as perfect as at the first hour of its erection, will show that in Coventry there are men whose minds are open to perfect taste and real excellence, so highly manifested by their protection of this phenomenon of ancient mansions. The Grey Friars.' Of this convent there yet is to be met with, in some sort of dignity, the tower and spire of the church. The style of the parts 112 A rchitectural Innovation. is Edwardian j and it is with true judgment that the inhabitants pay all that devotion for its remains which they on every occasion point out as one of their city's noblest objects. And yet, dropping our eyes from the spire down to the base of the tower, how is this affected admiration to be accounted for, when we notice every kind of garden lumber permitted to hide the no less in- trinsic work than what marks the unmolested spire? How often interest sways our passions, however insignificant the lure, by banish- ing from our bosoms the half-matured impulse of public spirit and applause ! Retiring from this leaving of Henry's creatures, I, with pondering steps and slow, sought out the fragmented monastery of the White Friars. The first item of its fallen state is a gate of entrance from Much Park Street, the upper part of which is hovelled up for hiding the head of some poor family. I now entered into the precincts, where, at a short distance, I came to the gate of entrance, leading directly into the principal part of the undemolished buildings. This design is now what is termed a study for the artist's pencil and a memento for the antiquary of suffering grandeur, already bowed down to meet the premeditated blow which will soon level it with the earth. I entered the court. Where are the melancholy, dilapidated residences of the first possessors, afterwards the habita- tion of one of their dispossessor's griping courtiers, and now the dwelling of a herd of miserable beings, whose poverty and the havocked horrors of the place seem to wait in sullen grief for that next move of " needy power," which is to put an end to all their sufferings ! An avenue with a rich doorway guided me into the area of the cloisters. The south and west interior walls are left standing, the north one is destroyed, but the east cloister is in being, owing its preservation by forming the support, in part, of the dormitory which ranges above it. , However this may be, an uncommon example is left us of cloister designment ; and its openings for admittance of light, its groined work, arches, columns, and mouldings have all those perfections which still swell our list of the architectural fame of the Edwardian era. From the centre of this east cloister extend some few feet of the chapter-house, where are likewise many groined chambers and avenues. At the north extremity of the dormitory is a bold flight of steps ascending thereunto. It is roofed with stone and lighted by two windows, which, as we mounted to survey the bounds of once monastic repose, gave a delightful view of the city's three majestic spires. The first in beauty is second, the last in beauty is first, the second in beauty is last — in distance from our eyes. As I proceeded, the torus cornice, winding into varied shape at every step, delayed my course to gaze on so uncommon an enrichment. The dormitory then shrouded me round — soft ejacula- tions, calm slumbers, and peaceful walls are here no more ; loud Coventry. curses, distracted dreams, and noisy loomworks fill up the dreary round. Darkened windows, polluted cells, with all their broods of stupid ignorance and callous indifference to the first necessary use that bids these walls arise, drove me from this gloomy scene, once sacred to piety, now infuriated to modern infidelity ! No vestige of the church was left ; an useless waste alone made me insensibly meditate for some time on the "instability of terrestrial things"! "The curses and imprecations," too, flew round me; but, shielded by my antiquarian zeal, I did not experience any of their baleful effects. How doth the present possessor of those architectural relics answer to all this ? He, no doubt, can with me in this instance unshaken stand. I hope the " iron arm " may never shake its terrors over these hallowed forms ; and so doth he, by letting them remain. Goad on, ye mental stings, till the wished-for hour arrives, when renovating admiration bids one universal hand protect our national antiquities until time shall be no more ! Dugdale in his illustration comes to our aid once more : " Coventry being thus grown to such a height of splendour by those strong and high walls, with so many beautiful gates, stately turrets," etc. How are the mighty fallen from height of pomp down to a low account of two poor postern gates, and the pickaxed remnants of the walls on part of the east and south sides of the city ! Where is Hill Gate, West Street Gate, Bishop's Gate, Cook Street Gate, Priory Gate, Sponne Gate, Broad Gate, New Gate, Little Park Gate, Grey Fryers' Gate ? Is the pointed-out site whereon they stood to serve as a compensatory offering for the savage sacrifice of all their "splendour"? Well might Dugdale distinguish them by such a blaze, as, from two drawings in the cabinets of the curious here of Sponne Gate and Broad Gate, they well deserved his so zealous praise. Is it convenience or interest that dictates the demolition of our public works? Is it that hoodwinked partiality for foreign art that renders Englishmen blind to the architectural " splendour " of their native soil? How unbounded is the applause ever lavished on those cities on the Continent who preserve their heathen triumphal arches, gates, and walls ! But on our devoted historic piles no eye ever turns, but to calculate the value of their materials, or to harden the heart, to doom them to oblivion, or a new-fangling oblation to that " iron-armed " prodigy which at present darkens the hemisphere of all antiquarian studies. And must all the "splendour" of York's royal city, in its gates (each of itself a castle), its towers and walls, and every defensive circumstance that could make its name illuminate the roll of fame, likewise fall a hecatomb to swell the black catalogue of devastations, and which your correspondent [see note 2] so loyally and so Briton-like deplores in his information to the public of their vol. x. 8 ii4 Architectural Innovation. own and unnatural sons' conspiracy against their farther existence ? Doth he not likewise unfold to us that they have begun their madden- ing purposes by proclaiming to the world that their fostering gates, towers, and walls are " nuisances " ?* Take warning, O ye "Yorkists " ! Dugdale considered Coventry at its height of "splendour" when all its encircling mounds stood undiminished. I shall make no com- parisons ; Coventry herself can but too well tell her own sum of consequence. Then, York, beware S Cast not away your recording substances for an airy nothing, a fleeting phantom, present opinion. Architectural innovation hangs over your head, frightful in its power and ominous in its immediate consequences ! Coventry, as you are, you have many gratifications. Your historic treats have joyed me much, and numberless will be the hours (if Heaven permit the same) that I shall still know, in bringing to my recollection all your architectural memorials of departed ancestry, all your handed-down old English hospitality and friendship, which it will ever be my pride to own I, with your antiquities, partook of in the most sensible degree. [1801, Part L, pp. 309-313.] As neither literary nor professional men have deigned to attend to my interrogatories in p. 33, I shall endeavour to explain, in the first instance, "imitation," according to an architectural sense, when applying my position to our ancient edifices. I define imitation to be the copying of any of those objects, so as to be enabled to realize their forms in some projected pile about to be erected, and we follow the arrangement, imitate the doorways, windows, buttresses, and every other peculiarity that distinguishes the original under our survey; then will our rising walls meet the comparative eye, the work will become of consequence from its historic reference, and continue an example of genuine taste and true imitation. Thus alone can the word " imitation " be properly understood by the real admirers of our ancient architecture. But, of those who fervently desire to restore that noble science, I know but few ; and I can bring to my recollec- tion only one man, whose high birth and state still receive additional lustre from his noble nature,t that has begun the business by a real imitation of the characteristics of antiquity's charms. Yet of those patrons who deceive themselves and the world by their false imita- tions, they are most abundant. Their ideas of imitation are to sub- stitute fancy designs for true copies ; their restorations of decaying or mutilated structures is destroying them in part, and disguising their remaining lines with strange decorations that can in nowise suit * A petition for what is styled the " Improvement of York " was presented to the House of Commons, March 11, whilst this sheet was printing. t His Royal Highness the Duke of York ; and, following in his train, I shall set down the name of Henry Holland, Esq., the celebrated architect. Lichfield. U5 but with theatric boards or convivial domes. This false imitation has sprung out of the spawn of innovation, both having for their end the extirpation or the transformation of all our ancient architectural majesty. A maddening zeal drives their adorers on with unabatihg fury, as if they knew their usurped power was soon to have an end ; and, notwithstanding they may see that retribution is at hand, how- ever slow its steps, yet still they dare. Sordid interest lords this universal spell whose acts almost want a name. Then haste some giant resolution, with legislative force, and rally round the remaining unaltered edifices of our forefathers' glory ! crush into atoms the suggestors, the designers, and the executors of this architectural massacre ! The heroes of antiquity call you to arms ; the pious wave you to the field ; and the scientific, with trembling expectation, wait your conquering force ; their combined labours from your mandates must stand or fall. . . . On a memorable re-balloting night it was pronounced that our cathedrals were the sole property of those who held them in their power • that they at pleasure might despoil or destroy them ; and that, however the society were associated for the defence and study of antiquity, yet that they had no manner of concern with such cathedral transactions or the determinations of their possessors ! How, then, shall I, an individual, with only this literary repository and truth as my protectors, presume to vent the slightest breath of reprehension against, or set down the smallest jot of those inno- vations, which have been wrought on the fabric now awaiting my approach ? But my duty to the public bids me on, and I obey. Lichfield. The changes which the cathedral has undergone since I visited it in 1782 the following memorandum will in part elucidate. The first object that arrested my attention on the exterior was the roof in its new appearance. Lead coverings, it must be allowed, give an air of dignity ; they form a part of the great whole of ancient edifices, but are now wanting, having been removed, and common house- slating made to supply their place. It might be no unprofitable question to know the net value of the leadwork that belonged to this or any other cathedral to those who are fond of indulging themselves in the science of calculation. I missed also the several parapets, battlements, and pinnacles ; but, in return, I too plainly witnessed that the roof is now reduced to a dripping eave's finishing, like the coverings of a barn, or any other outhouse repository. The south transept has lost much of its high enrichments by the shoring-up buttresses at the angles of its front, where we perceive more cube feet of masonry than correspondent work, to convince the world that the original parts were thought worth attending to. The north 8—2 n6 Architectural Innovation. transept has been masoned, but in no sort to excite praise from me, who am intent solely on the minutiae of our ancient architecture. With many of the windows in their mullions some liberty has been taken in displaying more the art of invention than the pride of being thought good copyists. The Interior. — Imprimis^ the new mode of the south and north transept doors. Ancient doors always show their foliaging iron- work or their panelled tracery on their outer face, while their inner face remained unadorned. In the present instance we have the panels within and a plain face without, not any way set forth to rank with the rich sculptures around them, as the former method so emi- nently contributed. For the sake of rendering the names of two late characters* conspicuous, whose bones and monuments are remaining elsewhere, the transept east windows have been blocked up ; thus the very idea of the arrangement of this part of the church is lost in the modern mural obtrusions of innovating taste. The entrance into the choir, taking in its general space from the pavement line to the point of the groins, is entirely shut out from the nave by the new screen and the glaziers work. Much of this screen is of fresh manufacture, and the rest is made up from the remnants of the demolished high altar-screen, as a communicative person who thought fit to attend my steps informed me. Indeed, I but too well remembered the divine beauties of that superb decora- tion, which I had classed with those of Winchester and St. Albans in their affinity of design and luxuriousness of enrichments. Here it will be no great difficulty to conceive in what sense I commented on this national loss. Yet, as my attendant observed, " This altar- screen is still in being, as there is no morsel of it but what has been preserved by being stuck up in one place or other. Here is a niche, there a buttress ; observe that cornice, that pinnacle, and those orna- ments. But come with me — I will show you all the rest of them as we look about. Now, sir, we are under the organ-loft ; here on each side are more of the high altar niches. Ah ! you need not doubt but your notes shall have each particle that you are in quest of." Willing to listen to every intelligence in this scene of transformation, by way of bringing back my astonishment to some sort of accountable point, I still remained silent ; which my attendant, no doubt, conceived was the effect of unutterable delight at beholding something new. "Now, sir," he went on, " we are in the choir, where you see all its beauties at once from one end unto the other ; not, as when the altar-screen was up, to trouble strangers in their inquiries about other sights, still lengthening out their charms, as they called it, by peeping over the screen, or prying behind it for founders' chapels, chantries, monuments, and I know not what, as they said were to be found in other un-un-improved [ah ! that was the word] cathedrals. Do * Johnson and Garrick. Lichfield. 117 not mind those stalls ; we have not got new ones yet — all in good time. But look at the fine painted east window, which, to give an effect like some exhibition transparency, we have darkened all the surrounding ones. I observe your eyes are not very clear, therefore you must come quite close to see our new pretty little altar-piece. It is rather in obscurity, to be sure ; but this part of our show is not of much consequence. Now turn round. There you shall behold all and everything in pomp and state, as the organ, its screen, the stalls before it, and the glass window behind : this is our grand display, which from this shadowed spot is seen to the finest advantage of light and shade." Recovering at last my speech, I begged to know what could possibly be the cause why the arches above the stalls, and those in continuation opening into the side-aisle, had been stopped up, whereby those diversity of lines given by intervening windows, columns, and groins were hid from the inquiring sight, ever most pleased at such diversifying objects. " Ah ! sir," my attendant answered, " did you but consider the strict service of this choir twice a day, and how desirable a thing it is to be snug and warm, although little more than half an hour does the business, you would not be surprised at this stopping-up, as you are pleased to call it, to keep out the cold ; whereby we are rendered as comfort- able as any public room in the kingdom could make us." "Very good," I rejoined; "now show me into the side-aisles." "This way, sir. And pray how do you like this closet doorway opening into the aisles ? Quite handy. Take care ; we are somewhat at a loss for want of light in these aisles, but they are of no use now ; so give me your hand, and I will lead you to the chapter-house. Here again we are made comfortable ; good wainscoting keeping the chills and damps from the walls and the columns which are hid behind it. All is improvement in this cathedral ; everything is so smart, with white- washing, painting, and glazing. Ladies and gentlemen can now attend without the fear of taking cold, or the dread of seeing any- thing to make them think about dying and all that." Thus was I entertained by this kind friend as we were returning along the aisles into the choir, when certain deplorable children in dirty ragged stuff gowns flitted by me. At first I was rather startled at appearances, which I took, in these dim aisles, from a momentary error of the mind (common with me in such situations), as supernatural beings ; but their stations in the choir soon dispelled all doubt but what hung on the cause why some little savings from the late expenditure on all these improvements might not have robed them in decent surplices, as is the custom in other cathedrals. Compressing my opinions from all that I had noted of the present state of this cathedral, I found that architectural innovation had here taken its full swing, by disarrangement, demolition, and moderniza- tion, with some tolerable attempts at the minutiae of ancient workman- n8 Architectural Innovation. ship, but crippled and chained to professional ideas of improvement after the "heathen school" taste. I discovered, also, that more partiality had been shown for modern accommodation than for ancient grandeur ; and whether earthly sweets or heavenly joys were here meant to be the order of the day (previous to the commence- ment of the service), I, or a greater stranger, would find it difficult to determine. On leaving this once-favourite scene of antiquarian delight I bore away this impression, that if I hoped to continue on my practice of Christian duties, innovation should never lead the way. Gothic. [1801, Part I., pp. 413-418.] A term of reproach, a barbarous appellation, an invidious desig- nation, a vulgar epithet, an ignorant by-word, a low nickname, given to hold up to shame and ignominy our ancient English architecture, the pride of human art, and the excellence of all earthly scientific labours. At length the opportunity is arrived to tear down this rag of pre- judice, this scum of innovation, this word " Gothic," which for a cen- tury past has branded with ignominy all our national works. I have already openly called in the face of the world, for its primaeval or authoritative appropriation, but in vain ; silence points to that gloomy cell where falsehood and detraction sit brooding in the damps of perverted genius. See, they rear their poisoned web, whereon is blazoned in infectious stains Wren's " Parentalia" ! Discordant com- bination of opposing memoirs, where filial recitals of fraternal honours, and " heathen-schooled " stigmas on our national science, swell the heterogeneous page ! Say, ye green-eyed spectres, as ye back- ward fly, what is my crime, that thus has doomed me to this loathed trial, this odious durance on my every sense, to read each line, pore over every sentence that fills this " Parentalia," till my tortured mind is on the verge of mental disorganization? Say, I conjure you, why am I tortured thus ? Calm reflection aids me in this rage of thought ; and I am reminded that out of evil often rises much good. This record of the Wrens shall, then, henceforth become the memento of their architectural sins, and the beacon to warn all antiquity-followers to shun the hidden rocks and savage shores of innovating taste and Gothic defamation ! Wren's " Parentalia " stands at present triumphant, by an unnatural power, over that inestimable jewel, that moment-caught treasure, the best behest of that learned and real antiquary, his country's glorifier, Sir William Dugdale, in his " History of St. Paul's Cathedral," as does the proud usurper Sir Christopher's heathenized prodigy on the site where once appeared in holy pomp London's first St. Paul's, whose aisles and towers dazzled all the surrounding nations. But, by the memory of the revered name who told your dying fate, and in justice to all your violated glories, I will, from the merciless " iron-armed " ■ Gothic. 119 foe's memoirs, bring him to the judgment of the times, for setting up the standard of revolt against our national architecture, on whose ruins he established the " heathen-school " practice of building ; from whose innovating day to the present hour the infidel name of " Gothic " has been affixed to our ancient piles, casting such a con- tagious mist before the eyes of most men, that contempt and obloquy has been their constant portion, to doom them to disfigurement and destruction. Before I note down my observations from this " Parentalia," let me once more turn to Sir W. Dugdale's " History of St. Paul's," where, with a melancholy delight, I hang on his patriotic ardour, when he exclaims, " This church of St. Paul's (meaning old St. Paul's) is one of the most eminent structures of that kind in the Christian world." I look with inexpressible astonishment at its dimensions, which he has set down. Length, 699 feet ; breadth, 130 feet ; height of roof, 102 feet; height of tower, 260 feet; height of ditto and spire, 520 feet — exceeding by more than one-third the capaciousness of any other of our religious buildings. Again, he cries out, " This church is the principal ornament of the realm, and the principal orna- ment of the city of London." In contrast to his high regard to this church, he brings in the words of Lord Brooke, which will for ever fix an indelible stain on his name, that, when he and three other lords were passing on by the Thames, 1649, he said, "he hoped that one of them should live to see no one stone left upon another of that building."* Bewailing with Sir William, in his concluding lines, that the then visible intent of the demolition of this church was most apparent, I here transcribe them, " That so glorious a structure, thus raised, enriched, and beautified, by the piety of our ancestors, should be utterly destroyed, and become a woeful spectacle of ruin !" I catch a look at those " shadows," as Sir William so aptly terms the engravings of the several views and monuments of this departed wonder; where I behold the cloisters and chapter- house (magnificent !) ; south front of the cathedral (noble, though contaminated with the improvements of Inigo Jones !) ; general plan of the cathedral (immense !) ; west front (wholly contaminated by I. Jones !) ; north front (more contamination !) ; east front (remaining pure and undefiled !) ; interior view in the nave (sublime !) ; entrance into the choir (majestic !) ; view in the choir (enchanting !) ; view of the eastern part of the building (a continuation of enchantment !) ; view in the undercroft, or St. Faith's Chapel (solemn and impressive !). I also earnestly look over the monuments, and the tombs, brasses, etc. ; all of which appear to me as combining a mass of historic evidence and scientific perfection, the loss of which but the more widens that professional breach between the love of my country's * This Lord Brooke was shot before Lichfield Cathedral while making his sacri- legious assault thereon. 120 A rchitectural Innovation. ancient works and that hostility declared against them by modern taste and innovating frenzy. Some of the principal circumstances and ideas relating to the ancient architecture of this kingdom, extracted from Wren's " Paren- talia," pp. 269 et seq. : " Toward the end of James the First's reign, and in the beginning of his son's, taste in architecture made a bold step from Italy to England at once, and scarcely staid a moment to visit France by the way. From the most profound ignorance in architecture, the most consummate night of knowledge, Inigo Jones started up a prodigy of art/' etc. — " Wren was the next genius that arose," etc. — " Inigo Jones cased great part of the outside with Portland stone " (speaking of old St. Paul's), " had rebuilt the west front with a Corinthian portico." — " The great tower was to be new cased inside and outside " — "the whole inside from the choir to the west door to be new cased," and "reformed in some measure." — "He (Sir C. Wren) was astonished to find how negligent the first builders had been ; they seemed Normans, and to have used the Roman foot. But they valued not exactness ; some intercolumns (distance between column and column) were one inch and a half too large, others as much or more too little; nor were they true in their levels." — " They made great pillars without any graceful manner, and thick walls without judgment. They had not as yet fallen into the Gothic pointed arch, but kept to the circular arch ; so much they had retained of the Roman manner, but nothing else. Cornices they could not have, for want of large stones.* In short, it was a vast but heavy build- ing." Next follow some " particulars relating to the architecture, the original defects (of the church), the design for the repairs, and for erecting a cupola in the place of the tower," etc., in a proposal made by Sir Christopher to that effect. Take some of the most remark- able thoughts, as thus : " He would (Sir Christopher) give to it an uniform beauty." Sneers at the "zeal of our ancestors " for erecting large buildings. Says the work was " ill-designed and ill-built from the beginning " — uprights " six inches " out of their perpendiculars. Derides the construction of the walls and their materials ; would repair them " after a good Roman manner, as to follow the Gothic rudeness of the old design " — that the roof was too heavy for its supporting walls, the tower " defective both in beauty and firmness." — "The excessive length of the building " discommended. "De- formity of the tower " and other parts. Intercolumniations unequal. The decorations on the outside of the church " a heap of deformities," and only worthy "to be taken down." Proposes to reduce the middle part to a " spacious rotunda with a cupola " not so lofty as that "unnecessary height of the former spire" — "and this with in- comparable more grace" — "than the lean shaft of a spire to afford." * Cornices make but an inconsiderable part of our ancient architecture. Gothic. 121 A professional trick is next proposed by this great genius, to pass on those who at that hour might " bewail the loss of old St. Paul's steeple," to keep it still up (making it at the same time a support to scaffold-pole) till the new work was completed, etc., etc. It appears to me from what follows, after this said " proposal," of the state of this church both before and after the Great Fire of London, that a settled plan was on foot to annhilate the whole fabric, in compliment to the favourite and fashionable architect of the day, Sir Christopher Wren ;* and that, had not the roof been burnt down, and some consequent injury done to the upper parts of the walls, yet the fate of the church was cast, Sir Christopher's " new design " in the Corinthian state being then thought to " exceed the splendour and magnificence of the old cathedral when in its best state." Of the business of taking down the old church, I declare, from the accounts in this " Parentalia," were acts so wanton and barbarous, that my mind recoils with disgust but to recite a few particulars. The difficulty and labour of the workmen, it appears, was so inces- sant, and the danger so eminent in demolishing the walls, that very many of them lost their lives in consequence. So mighty a resist- ance the great tower presented, that mines of gunpowder, and the force of huge battering-rams, were resorted to, to effect its cruel downfall. The methods then used to construct the foundations of the present erection will, some years hence, or to futurity, as it may be, show whether they were laid on just principles ; and, although Sir Christopher is adulated by saying, " His endeavours were to build to eternity," I much question the same, as will be hinted at in its proper place. In Sir Christopher's account of the state of the abbey church at Westminster, we find among his representations these sentiments : " This we now call the Gothic manner of architecture," etc. — " The vaultings covering the choir is the worst performed of all done before." Passes many slurs on the ancient architect, on the south side of the church, and on the cloisters, and affirms that his repairs had made the work " much stronger than the first builders had left it." He then discourses on our cathedrals and other ancient edifices in general. Contemns buttresses ; " pinnacles are of no use and orna- ment derides the materials ; calls the builders of Westminster Hall "senseless artificers," because they formed the roof of chestnut ; the roof of the abbey church, for being of chestnut, is also termed after the "bad Norman manner." He proposes some additions to this church, as the carrying up the western towers to a certain height, and a spire " still in the Gothic form, and of a style with the rest of * Sir Christopher was superseded at last in his high office of " Surveyor of the Royal Board of Works j" and was left to reflect on the fated list of those persons, who before him had been any way active in the demolition of our ancient structures. 122 Architectural Innovation. the structure; which I (Sir Christopher) would strictly adhere to throughout the whole intention. To deviate from the old form would be to run into a disagreeable mixture, which no person of a good taste could relish." And yet we see what a barbarous " mix- ture " of embellishments he has introduced on those parts of the tower, and on the north side of the church which he has worked upon. Sir Christopher next surveys Salisbury Cathedral, where he makes the cause of its decayed state to arise " partly from the want of true judgment in the first architect."" The repairs he made to the spire are trumpeted forth as rendering it " stronger than at the first erection." We next hear of his " enumerating the fundamental errors, defects," etc., of the church. He then condemns the con- struction of the whole for the incomprehensible sustainment of the various parts, which, he observes, although they have not any visible principle to account for their resistance to time and their own weight, yet show the astonishing and consummate skill of the ancient archi- tect. This he calls error in them, for not following the " better and Roman art of architecture." Sir Christopher's thoughts on the rise and progress of what is judged proper to be called the " Gothic mode " then ensues, where are these memorable words : " He was of opinion that what we now vulgarly call the Gothic," etc. Pretends to account for the erections in the said mode from the efforts of strolling companies of mendi- cant builders and artificers. He then makes invidious comparisons between the " Roman way " and the " Gothic way," adoring the former work, and ridiculing that of the latter. These conceptions are wound up by this sentence : " Architects, ashamed of the modern (or Gothic) barbarity of building, began to examine carefully the ruins of old Rome and Italy, to search into the orders and propor- tions, and to establish them by inviolable rules. So to their labours and industry we owe, in a great degree, the restoration of architec- ture." To follow up this creed, we have then a quotation from Evelyn's " Parallel," to show, as he says, " the majestic symmetry of the one (the Roman), and the absurd system of the other " (the Gothic). Among his preposterous words are these: "A certain fantastical and licentious manner of building, which we have since called modern or Gothic. Congestions of heavy, dark, melancholy, and monkish piles, without any just proportion, use, or beauty," etc. After this, in the most daring and consummate defiance to all justice and propriety, he vents amid his other abusive strains these slanders : " Slender and other misshapen pillars, or rather bundles of staves, and other incongruous props " — "trite and busy carvings as glut the eye," etc. He then refers his readers to Henry the Seventh's Chapel, * This lack of true judgment in the first architect has been realized in the late innovations made in this church, and which will be fully shown in a future number. Gothic. 123 Westminster, as a proof of all this deformity, and degrades the whole by contemptuously bidding them note "its sharp angles, jetties, narrow lights, lame statues, and other cutwork and crinkle-crankle,"* etc., etc. Then adverting to these our fabrics in general, he says, the "unreasonable thickness of the walls, and apertures without proportion ; nonsensical insertions of various marbles impertinently placed ; turrets and pinnacles thick-set with monkeys and chimeras, and abundance of busy work and other incongruities," etc., etc. — that the ancient structures (Gothic by him called) "are mountains of stone ; vast and gigantic buildings indeed, but not worthy the name of architecture !" Thus have I traced this architectural malady near to its contamin- ated source, this name " Gothic," a name unknown to old St. Paul's historian, but maliciously sported off by its destroyer and his followers, to seduce the then public to adore his new temple, and to forget their old church. Was it not enough with him to level all its glories with the dust, but he must brand the memory of its ancient architects with professional infamy ? Among some of his charges are these : an inequality in the distances of one inch and an half (the intercolumniations) ; and that their levels were untrue, as already cited. Wherein is Sir Christopher superior to them, but in presumption and defamation? His distances (in the present St. Paul's) are more irregular than were those of his fallen hecatomb; as, for instance, the distances between the columns of the west portico, distances between column and column, pier and pier, in the several parts of the interior of this his church, from half an inch to three and four inches. His levels, likewise, will not bear the scrutinizing eye of any professional man, for they are "untrue." Old St. Paul's did, and all those religious piles which Sir Christopher condemns for being ill-constructed have braved the blasts of time ; centuries have still told their names. Go and view his disuniting columns (of the present church), bursting joints ; let us inquire of the uncertain state of the south transept, which has more than once gone through a long repair within these few years. Did the limits of these essays grant more space, I could bring back on his own memory all his black calumnies hurled on the names of our great architectural ancestors ; but it must suffice at present to show it is to Sir Christopher and his "needy hirelings " we owe the name of Gothic architecture; which in a distorted line has fallen down to us, dishonouring our recording pages, and those transcendent works at which it was at first directed, to pave the way for their universal destruction, and the universal establishment of the Roman and Grecian styles on all their ruins, so fatally evinced wherever we turn our eyes, either on our castellated or religious structures. True it is a half-begotten, misshapen "congestion," called "Gothic architecture * See our description of this chapel, vol. lxix., p. 941. [See ante, pp. 27, 51-58.] 124 A rch itectural Innovation. revived," has within these few years been banded about the kingdom, and some of its dregs we find foisted on our sight, as the fronts of the courts in Westminster Hall, the choir in Westminster Abbey, the south front of Guildhall, St. Margaret's Church, Westminster,* and on an infinite number of other ancient buildings. Our villas, snug boxes, summer-houses, and theatres, glare with this mania of mock science, and all its symptoms are aggravated by the models of the Roman and Grecian schools — models which have been laid down in such plain terms, and in such voluminous illustrations, that " appren- tices " to masons, bricklayers, or carpenters, are fully competent to judge of their merits, and may presume to erect buildings in those styles, so as to render any proposed " dissertations" wholly superfluous and unnecessary^ This "half-and-half," this "fire-and- water" mixture, this Gothic and Roman compound of all that is new and strange, may still further be pursued ; and we, looking through comparisons per- spective, may just take a glimpse at Strawberry Hill. And if a cor- respondent is to be believed in his account of the abbey at Fonthill, p. 297 [see note 3] (which I am rather inclined to discredit, from the knowledge I have of the possessor's ardent attachment to the ancient works of this country), we may also there see this unaccountable com- bination carried to the utmost pitch of human gratification ; where we find " a noble Gothic arch " (if we are to judge from the annexed view) is but a " hole in the wall," an " abbey " without an abbot, or anyone willing to accept the title, a " groined Gothic hall," when all our ancient halls are uniformly distinguished by open-work timber- roofs, a " cardinal's parlour," whence we may expect shortly to hear of the Pope's drawing-room ; " ebony chairs " (these sort of ebony conveniences were not known before the reign of Henry VIII.), and other the like decorations, set down for "monastic ornaments." A dinner served up in the " substantial costume of the ancient abbeys." It would be a curious matter of information to hear a few of the " pittances " enumerated. In a " mysterious " way we hear of the semblances of monastic characters officiating as so many torch- bearers. A " library " too ! No such arrangement in our ancient religious seclusions ; books there being merely deposited in chests, no particular place being assigned for them, and resorted to as occasion required. A "gallery" (a modern term for any long and splendid apartment in the Roman taste) with a "shrine" "wax- lights," "candelabras," "ebony stands," "plate-glass," etc. " Suggested ideas of a religious service to recall the ceremonies of Catholic times " is to be the property of this " magic " library. A " collation " then is really tasted, not "suggested," and the whole scene is theatrically * We do not allude to the improvements carrying on at this moment (they being reserved for a future number), but the decorations of the west front, done about fifty or sixty years back. t See p. 325. Gothic. 125 concluded by a representation of Agrippa bearing the ashes of Germanicus, etc. The writer, indeed, doubts his entertainment being otherwise than the " visionary coinage of fancy ;" and so do I ; or else, in this long-announced mansion of " imitation," we should never have found at last the Gothic and the Roman "ways," hand-in- hand, running the continued round of the modern " way" of reviving our ancient customs and our ancient architecture. My countrymen being thus prepared through the medium of this miscellany, I shall now bring forward my " Proposed distinctive appellation to be affixed to that style of architecture among us whose principal feature is the pointed arch," to be drawn from the result of the following questions : I. Is not that mode of architecture, which was used by the ancient Britons, known by the name of " British architecture " ? II. Is not that mode of architecture, which was followed here during the Roman era, known by the name of " Roman architec- ture " ? III. Is not that mode of architecture, which was practised here during the Saxon era, known by the name of "Saxon architecture"? IV. Then why should not that mode of architecture which emerged from the Saxon art, of which the pointed arch is the grand character- istic during the Norman era, be called " Norman Architecture " ? I submit these questions to the public for their impartial and mature judgment, being ready to subscribe to a more comprehensive and expressive appellation, to revive our credit as a nation which has given birth to a style of architecture all its own, and to banish into oblivion a savage name which for so long a period has been its greatest foe. [1801, Part I., pp. 524, 528.] Again, as public defender of our antiquities, my impartiality compels me to say that to such an extreme height has prejudice worked up the odium which professional men have imbibed from the " Parentalia " system, and from the travelled conceptions of taste and science against our ancient structures, that we find a fresh stigma cast upon their insulted glories. One of the rival candidates for raising a new House of Lords on the devoted palace of our kings at Westminster has set forth among his modern designs, by drawings for the said purpose, that he had originally intended to have made his plans after the modes of our ancient architecture, and that he had proceeded far in such studies ; but " the idea was relinquished chiefly in consideration of the unfitness of that manner of building to the purposes of public speaking." He then brings, as a farther pre- vention from resorting to our ancient architectural specimens to construct the intended house, that the expense would be " enormous," etc. These public assertions demand a public explanation. On Architechiral Innovation. my own part, I desire my countrymen to recollect how " unfit " the interior of St. Paul's Cathedral and (till within this last year) the Court of Requests, Westminster (modern erections), are for public speaking or musical performances, where all sounds are lost in babble, discords, and confusion.* I could on this occasion bring in charge of such " unfitness " an innumerable list of late-constructed works to remind the ingenious architect of his error in this respect. I likewise must declare I know of no one of our ancient piles where Echo and her hundred tongues ever told their falsehoods or their sarcastic tales in reverberating motions of the undulating air. And let me just remind the architect of the pure, unadulterated effect of sound, either in Westminster Abbey Church or the neighbouring great hall. In the first building, music's sweet notes f and oratorical discussions have each their delightful dominion over our attentive faculties ; and for the distinctive and unanswerable decrees in the second building, they are intelligible from one end unto the other of its mighty space, that many, very many, never forget their purport even to their dying day. Here I could go the circle of all our ancient piles to convince the world that their modes of constructure are the most fit of all others either for the uses of " public speaking " or musical performances. Tamworth. After having enumerated by the mass the labours past of de- molition, alteration, and improvement, it becomes an insignificant part of our task to be constrained to note down the pickings of the little dabbler in the above three points of architectural belief. Lichfield's universal stretch of disorganization has spread its rage to the church of this place, for they have been " at it " hand and hammer with the mullions of the windows. "Something new," however absurd and fantastical in many eyes, is too often mistaken for the effusions of genius ; on this presumption, therefore, we see the most despicable window tracery has been set up in the place of the original work, which is here held out as beautiful in the extreme. Let me drive from my recollection this flash of architectural " toad- eating," and seek out an object that, on a former visit to this church, had no small share in rendering me so partial to the skill of our ancient architects — the curious double-circular staircase, bound in a diameter of five feet eight inches, in the south-west angle of the tower of the building. Though the immediate purpose of this masonic combination is at present not well accounted for, yet the effect produced is very sensibly felt by the unexpected meeting which I had with my guide at the top of the tower, whom I had supposed was waiting for me below, he having during my ascent * Festival for the Sons of the Clergy. f Commemoration of Handel. Tamworth. 127 taken the other circular route. Double staircases, according to this plan, my brother professors tell you, is one of the efforts of modern art, and reference is made to Italy, France, and other nations for examples of this sort ; and yet we find our countrymen in the " dark ages " had anticipated somewhat of this ! To the castle, set on ; day hastens to end his measured space, gloom leads the way ! I have passed by a fragment of the gate of entrance from the town, and now I mount up the ascent to the keep. How the hinges creak as the time-eaten doors give way to my force of arms ! What, all untenanted ! Is this court the only harbinger within these mounds to bid me welcome ? Silence reigns : I dare its terrors. Look round this hall, darkling. Where are the storied paintings of famed Sir Torquin and Sir Lancelot du Lake ? their mighty combat, and all the glorious circumstances of renowned chivalry? And are bare walls, whereon once beamed this pencilled semblance, the only memorial of their mighty deeds ? Yet stay ; methinks I discover, overhung with dust and cobwebs, some warrior's spoils — a remnant of that decorative show that erst was wont to fill each trophied hall — one sword, one morrion, one shield ! Are all your bright habiliments, O Tamworth Castle, in thy warlike state, reduced to these three corroded mementoes of departed greatness ? Thy boast of ancestry, of castellated hospitality, all is lost in the present dank and deserted pile, which in other times sent forth, to join the train of glory, the hero and the Christian knight ! But no more of this. Good, sir guide, restrain me not; this solemn hour well suits my investigating intents. The light will yet serve to give me insight to the several chambers. I beg you to wait my quick return. This place appears the principal room in the building: its finishing is of Elizabeth's day, when the extravaganza mixture of our ancient architectural styles and the usurping modes of Greece and Rome were running their frenzied course. I would have sat me down awhile, but the unfurnished region denied me that comfort. I looked then from the casement on the wide expanse of country. I thought, as the rising moon gave its silvered light to show the greensward plain below, I beheld the holiday sports of old English manners pass before me. I fancied that I was other than the architect of these essays ; that I was a retainer of the mighty lord who then gave life to the surrounding scenes ; my place to super- intend the additions and necessary repairs of the castle, etc. While thus indulging in my " dreams of past glories," I gave way to the impulse of sounds, as I had to the rays of vision, and I thought that I distinctly heard the following words from that part of the chamber where heretofore the most honourable seat was placed : " A day will come, in some future age, when one who stays the hour of inherit- ance shall here repair — shall here revive the splendour of these scenes, and dwell these bowers among. He will be called to protect 128 Architectural Innovation. antiquity's rights ; and, with many pretended and real admirers of its charms, will tell a name high-sounding in heraldic pomp ! Therefore return, thou man of antiquarian fire, return to thine own existing moment, and, ere ye cry ' conclusion,' search round the land those other subjects which demand your pencil or your pen, to imitate, to praise, to expose, or to condemn !" Ashby-de-la-Zouch. On visiting the church my attention was so immediately engaged with its interior that I paid but little regard to the outward state of the building. From my notes, however, of the condition of the former part, the appearance of the latter could not possibly be very perfect. Preparing to make my observations on some curious and superb monuments, I was under the necessity to combat with all that accumulation of rubbish which renders so many of our religious piles scenes to raise aversion and disgust, not that piety and reverential awe which should ever possess our souls when in so sacred a place as a Christian church. In what way, then, can this culpable inattention be accounted for ? Is cleanliness thought necessary in every other building than in the Lord's house ? Must His holy walls alone be held unworthy of a decent care ? Is it thus "our languid piety" is to be reanimated? Far other aids are necessary to draw our half-religious minds to assemble in fervent prayer, to comment on Him who is all majesty, and who sits en- throned in realms of endless light ! Filled with these impressions, it was some time before I could attend to the duties of my profession, either as an artist or the literary defender of our antiquities. I first took under consideration an object at the west end of the church, called "a finger pillory" — a remarkable contrivance to detain irreligious persons by the finger, so as to become the mark for reprehension and scorn — a situation not so degrading as the stocks, exposed to unrestrained insult and the inclemency of the elements, supposing their crime not so heinous as to have deserved this latter punishment. I next attended to a monument in the north wall of the body of the church, where was the statue of a pilgrim, deserving of much regard from the information which it conveyed of such a character's dress, etc. The broad hat with cockle-shells, the hair of a peculiar cut, a vest covering the body with large and open, sleeves, on the feet short boots that laced ; and I noticed the staff, scrip, beads, and round the neck a collar of SS., denoting that this person was of high consequence. Near this piece of antiquity was a mural monument of the year 1623, a date which is not quite so attractive to an antiquary as those of elder times ; yet, from the dress of the lady whose sculptured half-length is placed therein, the unaffected A sh by-de-la- Zonch. 129 attitude, and the engaging delicacy of the countenance, I could not but essay to catch a semblance of so artless a fair one. I came now to the chapel on the south side of the body of the church, wherein is placed a magnificent tomb to the memory of Francis, Earl of Huntingdon, who died in 1561, and his Countess, the Lady Catherine, who died in 1576. This chapel appears to have been a second time fitted-up about the latter end of the seventeenth century by the mode of the repairs, which are in the Roman and Grecian styles ; and, however ill they may accord with the ancient work, yet it certainly was a most praiseworthy act in those who thought it an incumbent duty in them to make this place a decent and respectable repository, which contained the ashes of so illustrious a family as the Huntingdons, and so fine a sculptural memorial of one of its noblest names. Since which fitting-up a century has passed away, and we behold a sad reverse indeed! In 1693 here was seen a chapel in perfect order, with costly sepulchral erections, with armorial banners, and the armour of some of the deceased disposed about the walls in all the circumstances of funeral honours. This was a sight for the ennobled and the virtuous, to inspire in them a laudable emulation to achieve heroic deeds, and for their due observance of pious offices ; a sight that instigated the low and the needy to pay due reverence to high birth and true honour, making them at the same time reconcile their thoughts to that humble station unto which it had pleased Heaven to call them. In 1800 we who live must tell another tale. The wainscoting is falling into pieces, the monuments are mutilated, the banners torn, and the few remaining pieces of armour strewing the pavement. Nay, this chapel — shame to our eyes ! — has become one of the " rubbish- holes" of the church, where the coffin-bier, grave-boards, ropes, pickaxes, spades — where broken carved stones and glass — where billet-wood, dried mortar, ladders, disjointed stools, and benches spread a sacrilegious scene around, and that canopy which was hung over Earl Francis's tomb, to preserve it from dust and common view, tied up in ragged folds ! Where now is our emulation, our pious fervour, our humble and duteous respect, or our contentment in the lot of fate? Example is here no more. Let the chilling blasts pierce through the shattered casements — let falling showers steal through the decaying roof — let the walls, sapped by surrounding matter, shake their mouldering forms. Nought shall deter me from my task of public benefit. Then to proceed : The tomb before us is in that mixed style of architecture which prevailed at the time of its date, 1576 ; showing much of our ancient modes of design, and much of the Roman and Grecian compilations, which were then gaining such an ascendancy in all our works of art. However, our ancient tomb arrangement here still predominates ; for we particularly notice, among the foreign usurpations, pointed shields vol. x. q 130 Architectural Innovation. and small statues on its sides, the letter of the old character on the ledge of the tomb, and on its top the recumbent statues of the per- sonages here meant to be commemorated. That of the earl is shown in rich armour, over which is the robe of the Order of the Garter with the collar belonging thereunto. On his head is a coronet supported by his helm and crest, and his feet rest on a lion. The vestments of the countess are of an older taste than either the fashion of the earl's armour or the date of the tomb lead us to expect. On her person is a loose garment brought into folds by her girdle. Hair appears on the forehead, and the chin is covered by the wimple, under which a loose robe, fastened on the breasts by a cordon, flows to the feet. On the top of her head is also a coronet, and her feet are supported by a griffin. Of the workmanship of this tomb, notwithstanding the contempt held by the generality of people for our ancient artists, I shall re- mark, that the mouldings are sharply cut, the ornaments delicately made out, the forms of the statues well imitated from the life, and that the armours and draperies are finely studied from the real objects. As such, then, I view this excellent performance, where much satisfaction is received, and much information obtained of the progress of the arts and of the costume of this kingdom. Whatever damage may have been done to this tomb and the chapel wherein it stands, I must conclude that it was perpetrated since their reparation in 1698, as the yet visible care of that time must convince us of their then perfect state. We must impute the cause to have arisen from the entire neglect and desertion of these important memorials of a noble family by those in whom it certainly was a religious duty to have shown, by their example, how much they venerated and protected the names and ashes of their great predecessors, demonstrating at the same time their lineal descent, and their right to enjoy their transmitted honours and their wide domains. Not intending at present to enter into the causes which have reduced the castle of this place to its present state of ruin and cur- tailment, I shall only observe that its dimensions seem to have known no bounds, either in the lines of arrangement or in the altitude of the several stories. The great hall in particular can be traced out, as well as the kitchen and many chambers of state, etc. : wherein are to be found, in good preservation, rich doorways, chimney-pieces, arms, devices, and other ornamental accompaniments, which serve to confirm that this pile must have vied with any of its castellated com- petitors for architectural fame that this country has produced. And yet do not these sentiments take possession of our imaginations when engaged in the like survey of any other of our ancient lordly abodes ? How is it possible then to affix the meed of praise, since all these towering objects of renown have alike claims for wonder Hinckley. and commendation ? If journeying round the land in former times, how endless must the track have been that brought to the rising view- such sights as these in all their triumph of array and pride of generous reception ! Hinckley. [1801, Part ff., pp. 607-609.] As for the church here, we have to remark that it is a good struc- ture, but has had its share of modernization, by garret windows, a common brick porch, dilapidated parapets, and by bricking up in part the compartments of the west window, which are all too manifest to call down our censure for such disfigurements. The interior is simply grand, and is for the most part standing unaltered. This is praiseworthy ; but the unpleasant part of my office obliges me to con- demn the incumbrances of pews and galleries; the decoration of pending buckets, the childish modern font, and the trim of the altar- piece, etc., etc. In justice to the art of sculpture in the seventeenth century, and to the due veneration paid to ancestral names, let me point out the monument of John Oneby, on the north side of the chancel, as meriting much attention and regard. Kenilworth Castle. I here look on the agreeable side of my investigating labours, in having the extreme satisfaction to bestow commendation, being so much constrained to utter unwelcome truths. These important ruins are now in those guardian hands which, from the anxious solicitation for their preservation everywhere made known on the walls, seems to ensure their future safety from wanton disfigurement. This example of protection to suffering antiquity, if generally followed, would answer one great end of these essays, and might hereafter be the means of creating a more universal association of ideas in English- men, to pronounce that our ancient architectural remains are deserv- ing of the care of the kingdom at large. Warwick. The gateway entering into this town from Coventry has lately been " new-cased " and "reformed," as Wren has it;* and this with a witness ; not made out by the Roman and Grecian pickings, but the purblind copyings from our national art under the paroxysm of modern improvement. And, in order that this metamorphosed gate- way might not come under the sentence of being declared (at any future period) " in the way," a road has been made on one side for this purpose. Yet, had this object been a pure and magnificent ancient erection, like those gateways at York which have been pro- claimed by some of its unnatural sons "nuisances," and "only * See Wren's " Parentalia." 9—2 132 A rchitectural Innovation. woithy to be taken down," we should not have had so much atten- tion paid to its welfare. But here some one or other has had the opportunity to show his contempt for ancient workmanship, by his vanity in " improving " on their remains. The other gateway, lead- ing to Stratford-upon-Avon, waits, no doubt, the like innovating hour : at present it is a valuable relic, as appearing in its own native guise. The great church has teen rebuilt in the Roman and Grecian styles in part ; and surprise is the more excited to find the eastern chapels and their beautiful tombs unaltered, than at viewing the models of the Roman and Grecian schools at the west end. The castle has the next demand on my antiquarian opinions. Advancing, therefore, I saw on my left a church, whereon is set forth another cut-and-hacked attempt at improving on our national works. With- out entering into particulars, I passed on to the gate of entrance into the castle ; a modern work, culled from the weeds that grow without the fences of our remote architecture. Within its walls are some curious pieces of armour, not altogether undeserving of notice. Pacing along some new-cut road trenches, I came within ken of the castle itself. , On the left is a tower, whose plan is made out by several parts of circles in a most uncommon way. In the centre is a noble gateway leading into the great court ; and on the right is a tower formed by twelve sides. These, with the various turrets, walls (excluding from my notice the modern offices ranging from the gate- way to the left tower) rushed into my presence in all their ancient sort, grand, terrific, and unperishable. Bending my course through the double ward of the gateway — a fearful pass ! — I entered into the great court, where, looking to every tower, nook, and wall (turning my back on the modernized front of the mansion occupying one side of the court), the romantic days of Warwick's famous earl returned to call before me the prancing steeds, the badged yeomen, the squires, knights, and Sir Guy himself, to march the listed court around, where glittering armour, banners, lances, swords, and shields, made up the splendid preparation for the martial sports or the hostile field, in friendly joust or deadly combat. As for the face of the habitable part of the mansion, it has been so accommodated to modern ideas of supposed superior taste to the former lords of this castle, that I not only forbore to delay a moment to note down any of its improvements, or, from a new sort of porch in the innovating style, to enter within the portals, where, from such specimens of the revival of our ancient architecture, I could not expect to find either the great hall, the lord's or the lady's arrased chambers, the fretted roofed bowers, or the like witnesses of its original arrangement. As for porters' halls, lobbies, saloons, dining-parlours, smoking-rooms, billiard-rooms, card-rooms, dressing-rooms, powdering-rooms, and all the other long et cetera dragged in from the precedents of French and Italian villas, I own, my eyes are so familiarized to such dis- Woodstock. 133 tinguishments, and such appellations are so rung in my ears in all corners of the kingdom, from the princely dome to the tradesman's snug box, that the sounds pall on my sense, and their forms sicken in my sight : therefore, I returned at leisure through the embattled limits, to behold the front of the castle overhanging the river. Con- demning in some degree the demolition of the old bridge in the foreground of this enchanting picture, yet it still remains to contribute its mite of record to this Warwick tale, marvellous and strange ! Rollright Stones. [1801, Part II., pp. 700-703.] In my progress towards Oxford I stopped to examine the Rollwright stones. Certainly the hand of Architecture was put forth at their first setting-up to guide their circular arrangement ; and, notwith- standing their regular lines and terminating finishings are lost through the lapse of ages, yet we are not to suppose but that once they stood the habitable or the religious mounds to man. Say Innovation's sons have not been here with architectural vengeance ; still his power has swayed the husbandman to dig and delve the mystic round, and to raise his hedge-row fence, to hide these worn- down tenants of the moors from their superiors' ken ; who, standing at his given space of sullen control, now maintains his post and bleak domains alone. Woodstock. The fate of the church is remarkable, being divided between the work of the modern builder and the remnants of the ancient architect. The former master with his art has re-built the major part of the edifice, while the spirit of the latter professor hangs over its southern side; which, under such influence, awaits to arrest the antiquary's eye by many a scientific spell of columns, in their sculptured capitals, arches, and such-like sights as these. But soon, very soon, your charms will be no more ; the living voice will sound your doom to fall, and in your place the modern pile will lord it over all your honours. I now hastened to the site of the palace of our second Henry, to draw the circle with mine eyes where architectural innovation had taken such a merciless sweep, without thinking on a theme to wreath the " iron arm " that heaved the fatal blow. Oxford. I entered this city on a Sunday afternoon, and towards evening repaired to Christchurch, to be present at the service in the cathedral, but was rudely put back, and told that no stranger was to be admitted. 134 Architectural Innovation. My astonishment was great, as I had always understood that the " Rites and Ceremonies of the Church of England " were free for all to partake of when celebrated in a public edifice. This ordinance I likewise was taught to believe extended to places of worship of all persuasions. Unwilling to put aside my religious impulse, I sought out New College, where I arrived in time to hear this seminary's bell tolling for evening prayer. Following others who were entering into the chapel (they being, I suppose, well known by the porters), I was instantly pushed back (in like manner as at Christchurch) from the sacred portals, indeed, in a more brutal way than at the first structure, and with the same unchristian and unclerical reasons. It here becomes a question, and, I think, of some moment at this day of such general relaxation in devotional fervour : Are religious duties henceforth to be discouraged by this shutting up of the church doors in this city and in the city of Westminster? Or are they to be confined to certain classes of men, who, through mistaken notions of their discretionary power to turn all others out, and right to transform or despoil those piles they may presume to call their own property, arrogate to themselves this primary good of addressing the Lord, unassociating with the stranger, or the poor and humble artizan? I expect, nay, all have an imperious demand, to hear this answered. Is not now each eye bent to notice, and each hand raised to set down, the questionable acts of the priestly function ? Attend then, I humbly pray, reverend sirs, to the remonstrances of one who can truly affirm, that he has ever held your sacred characters in the most perfect apostolic light that a sinful layman is capable to comprehend or give way to. Laying aside this kind of reasoning, I proceed with my account. I found this church mandate of refusal to participate in prayer not so absolute but that a trifling douceur, properly applied, let me pass on ; when, unminded, I placed myself in an obscure corner of the anti-chapel to hear the melody, and behold the " improvements " made here of late, consonant with present clerical taste and accommodation. The members of the College now began to enter, not in any manner of order or procession, but in a promiscuous sort, one carelessly after another, some with surplices on, and some with this necessary robe dangling on their arms, as though they came, Compulsion's slaves, to drag through an hour of foundation cere- mony, whose fetters were forged when ignorance and superstition held mankind in awe. I may, perhaps too often for the subjects of these essays, have owned a natural weakness (incurable in me), an over- charged susceptibility to the effects of sweetest harmony ; yet I may meet with the indulgence I wish for, all remembering the divine Shakespeare's precepts : " The man that has not music in his soul Is fit for treason," etc. However, thus prepared, I waited to hear the heavenly strain. Oxford. '35 Indifference still held on his gentle sway, and I resigned the expecta- tion of feeling the pleasures of the melting note, to gaze round and round at the new order of architectural things; which, from the prescribed moments of service, were commented on but in a general manner. Some other opportunity will the better enable me to be the more particular in the " improvements," and do the proper office to that genius who has bid them thus appear, in giving due praise or otherwise. Imprimis. The west window. Part of the mullions cut away, and tracery stopped up, to assimilate itself to a modern conceived repre- sentation of the Nativity; indeed, well calculated to draw the attention from the vestiges of the old sort at the east end. The chef-d'oeuvre here " to glut the eye," as Evelyn has it, is the organ and gallery. Profusion, in this performance, with his fellow, Confusion, seem to have united to defy the sting of criticism. But of this anon. — "And the chancels (or choirs) shall remain as they have done in times past ;" to save the order for Morning and Evening Prayers in the Book of Common Prayer. — On each side of the entrance to the choir the screen backing the stalls has been changed to an open panelled fence, framed and glazed, to show, no doubt, the devotional attitudes through them of the dignitaries thus accommodated. The carvings under the stall seats (many of which are of the indecorous kind, and introduced there for certain historical reasons) have been cut from their secluded situations, and are now stuck up on each side of the fronts of the pews, ranging the approach to the altar. Are they thus exhibited to aid the devout Christian in his conceptions of beatific glory? or set to engage the young students' eyes, to prevent their falling into the errors of drowsiness, or to make them shun the like emblems of frail mortality? Much of the embellishments now adorning the east end of the chapel, if I mistake not, are original, they having, for many years, been hid from the general eye. I call to mind that, previous to the laying this work open by the alterations to be made in the chapel, I more than once directed the attention of some of the dignitaries to particles of these precious morsels, they just appearing from behind the disguising, or, it may be, the protecting wall, that had shut them out from iconoclasts, or the like barbarous foes to ancient art. William of Wykeham, the great light of the Edwardian era, who shone alike as the learned divine, the patriotic statesman, and the ingenious architect, first gave being to these walls ; therefore its contour was of that style so peculiar to the age he lived in. This reflec- tion seems to have had very little weight in the present "improvements," as the principal objects in the new work are evidently culled from the modes of architecture known first in the reigns of Henry VI. and Henry VII., and the rest of the business is made out agreeable to the Roman and Grecian prejudices, interlarded with much whim and 136 Architectural Innovation. fancy, at once evincing an inferior choice of selection, and a disregard to the founder's first designs, his name, and his extraordinary abilities. Magdalen College. " Improvement " — used by professional men as the watchword to begin their devastations on our ancient works, and held up to beguile the senses of those who give them their " orders " so to do. This is most strongly marked in the late exhibition, where we find "designs proposed for the 'improvement'" of this College; by which we are given to understand, among the other depredations recommended, that the very curious and the only existing cloister in either of our Universities is to be a principal sufferer. I refer the heads of this College to p. 114, wherein they will find my address to the good people of the city of York, intent on the demolition of their ancient historic gates, towers, and walls ; which, having perused, let me inform them, such my " warning voice " has not been without effect ; for a gentleman of the first consequence in that part of the country has been with me a short time since, with the agree- able intelligence, that the wreck of their architectural renown is for the present deferred. Magdalen College! to thy guardians I now call with another "warning voice." Do ye wish to build, lack ye more habitations, sigh ye for modern halls, saloons, drawing-rooms ? Your premises give every space that such erections require. Then forbear your plan of " improvement " and destruction to be wrought on your mounds, which, in their pristine state, prove your right to all your honours, emoluments, and ranks, among the virtues of an University establishment, where gratitude to the memories of the founders of colleges is (or ought to be) held one of the first obligations to be complied with in such princely and useful institutions. Well, ye assure us that your intended pile is to be entirely unconnected with, and in no way trenching on any one stone of, your present buildings; yet forbear to begin the same without well considering the propriety of the plans and elevations, in their pretences to be correct "imitations" of those architectural parts you may now call your own. Trust not professional men in this respect, nursed in the prejudices of the " heathen school " of constructing edifices ; their bigotry for foreign modes will not let them, of their own wills, be true to the ancient architecture of their native land. Thus advised, reverend sirs, you hold the destiny of those walls you are bound to save, or the cease- less regrets for pursuing other persuasions will for ever be held up by your own convictions for having despised my " warning voice." [1801, Part I., pp. 813-816.] By that part of the community who are ever' waiting in expectation to catch the opinions of authors, either to receive information or entertain- Monmouth, 137 ment, it is to be wished such literary labourers in the vineyards of lux- uriant science, where every species of knowledge rises spontaneous at the calls of these sons of mental powers, would each confine himself to that portion of his culture which his studious onsets had first directed him to. I am but too sensible that I often step out of my given space of professional allotment, perhaps inadvertently ; or my subject, which has so many sinews verging from its swollen body, may of necessity wander to those remote recesses in the dark wilds of recollected ills, where the causes for why I write were first engendered. Indeed I ever, to the stretch of my frail ability, strive to tread my purposed way. Thus much I presume ; I touch no note in the scale of these essays of which I am not well acquainted with its true sound, from the simple unison, thirds, and fifths, to the half tones, semi- tones, discords, fiats, and sharps. However, these particles of sense, each in their touch of introduction, may, it is not impossible, have their due effects on the feelings of my readers ; for this I chaunt my strain of intelligence and reprehension, as connected with the present state and the late alterations or dilapidations perpetrated on our national antiquities. Readers, I say, are perpetually thrown into the most violent distractions at finding at every turn the composers of the pages they are perusing running counter to their own professed subject, and beyond which they can have no more pretence to be acquainted with than I, were I to set about to decide on the merits of a Greek MS. or a Welsh pedigree, both of which branches of polite education I am totally unacquainted with. It would be an easy task to set forth a thousand instances in this way from the major part of the productions of the overloaded press ; but let it suffice for me to remonstrate with those scribes who enter the expanded fields of antiquity, where they set up as professors of incontrovertible determinations, which are to decide the beauties of our national architecture, its deformities, or its professional distinguishments, when they, from their several avocations, are rendered wholly unqualified so to do. Is it possible for the gentleman farmer, whose whole time is occupied in the improvement of his land, employing the humble labourer, and relieving the wants of his distressed neighbours, to be competent to determine the data of an unlegended coin, or prefix the British, Roman, or Saxon name to a tumulus or an entrenchment ? Can we believe the sportsman, who, only mindful how to start the hare or rouse the stag, will be accurate, should he enter on the illustration of an illuminated missal, by explaining its readings, and its historical, allegorical, and religious references? Or suppose the jovial companion, whose nights are run out in libations to the god of drunkenness, and his days lost in soporiferous inactivity, equal to the office of pointing out to our free and easy reliance on present things the solitary mounds of the former religions of this land; draw out •38 A rchitectural hinovation. the lines of their refectories, their dormitories ; number out the hours they spent in prayer, in useful exercises, in charities ; their frugality in their pittances j and the short moments they resigned themselves to peaceful slumbers? The soldier: shall we listen to hear him recount how daily he perambulates the cloister's endless aisle, to aid his pensive mind to muse on heavenly joys, enumerate the monumental tale, and how the noble forms which lie recumbent on their shield-surrounded tombs hold up their hands in suppliant attitudes ; or dwell with raptures on those angel semblances guarding the heads of these sculptured relics of our renowned ancestors ? Must the gamester, too, pretend among this motley throng to give in his quota of communication, by telling over the names of those whose pious donations founded almshouses, colleges, monasteries, or laid their foundation-stones, which drew on them those myriads of objects that make our ancient structures the wonders of the world ? Yet more claimants stand up for credit. Are we to rely on the lawyer, who promises to lead us to those iron-ribbed chests, those treble-keyed treasuries, still abounding in our sacred piles, to decipher the mouldy record, make clear the doubtful instrument of ecclesiastical acquisition, whereby holy office may have its dues, and the badged mendicant his daily dole ? Or are we to bow with implicit confidence to the academic character, who, descending from his hourly practice of every religious duty, his high superiority in his knowledge of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew languages, his talent for disputation, theology, and logic, to hear him, with all the pretended geometrical precision of an architect, the subtlety of an artificer, or the low cunning of their labourer, enumerate every particular that composes the professional list, from the foundation-stone of ancient architecture, to the very pinnacle of all her sublime perfections ? He instructs us that such a building is "Gothic," the workmanship "rude," the sculptures of statues "very well for the time," the ornaments "barbarous," their general proportions "incorrect," and their materials of constructure wholly destitute of those necessary qualities either to give them strength or durability. Hear him descant on the lateral pressure of a buttress, or the geometrical elevation of an arch, of groins, feather-edged mouldings, squares, hollows, rounds, angles, equilateral triangles, tenons, and mortice-holes, soffits and returns, sand, lime, and mortar ! — Parallel. — I ken a Greek MS. from the peculiarity of its letters; there my knowledge rests, never having been schooled to understand farther so noble a language. Just so it is with your collegiate expositor, who, by poring over technical terms common to architectural men, knows only that they are used by such practitioners for the mere uses of building. Thus far the comparison holds ; but, losing sight of the plain inference, he retails the catalogue of hard words on every occasion, as though he had sucked in their real meanings with those preparatory studies which qualified him for Monmouth. 139 those pursuits in life to whose service he was alone intended. " Let every man abide by his trade," however homely the idea, not the less true. I have my lesson. Reverting, therefore, to my present in- tents, I make known I mean to give in the following numbers the result of a professional tour, in which I am still pursuing my marked route, having ever in sight my constant object, the protection of our ancient works, and an unconquerable desire to instil into the breasts of my countrymen that emulation to admire them with an ardour, to which they, above all other mortal endeavours, in scientific ac- ceptance so wonderfully deserve. To me it is a circumstance of extreme surprise to see stuck on or near the portals of religious worship advertisements for gentlemen to associate for " the preservation of game," with every alluring invitation, as if it were the first of all moral obligations. Ah ! had I so strong and powerful a device to draw at my announcement the willing hosts, I would sound them to another game, the preservation of the works of antiquity. In such an association let the high-born, the affluent, and the brave, unite to shield those time-descending memorials of all their honours, in an age like this of general innovation, from the shafts of demolition : by them their names are glorified ; and if they fall 3 so does bright honour in the desert wastes of ignorance and barbarism ! True, there is a chartered assemblage associated for the " study of antiquity," but not for the preservation of antiquity ; no instances are in remembrance of their having offered rewards for the apprehending of offenders taken in the act of knocking down, under- mining, or new-fangling, any of our ancient piles ; we read of no punishments inflicted on the avaricious dilapidator, or the sacrilegious innovator — no rewards and honours await such antiquity " poachers," "unqualified" as they are to stand within the verge of so sublime a precinct as that which should guard the true sons of antiquity. An ardent fire, caught from the remnants of ancient splendour, animates the real antiquary : he, when in his peregrinations, sees and feels the intellectual flame which can never fade. How exquisite then the labour ! Englishmen, combine in one common cause, that of the cause of the interests of the arts of your own country, so universally diffused over all our castles, cathedrals, etc., etc. Let foreign partiality subside, weekly held up by interested individuals in a few extraneous models, smuggled from the models of the heathen schools, as presumptuous competitors for fame with our national works. Englishmen, I say, come forward, and judge for yourselves. Thus determined, it is not out of the bounds of reason to surmise that ere long the preservation of antiquities will become as popular a cause of national concern as the preservation of "game," whose guardians are so intent on the destruction of unlawful night-rangers and unlicensed sportsmen. As it is become a sort of rage for gentlemen of rank and fortune 140 Architectural Innovation. to make pedestrian excursions into the country, more especially through the Welsh regions, I may unblushingly own that, being desirous to enjoy so superlative a good as that bestowed by kind Nature, an ability to tread the teeming earth, which at every step gives such renovating vigour, I shaped my progress towards the Cambrian hemisphere, intent on contributing my share of antiquarian sentiments with those who on so many occasions have interested the public before me. While such their lucubrations are squared by one-sided historical authorities, half-drawn observations, obsequious- ness to general opinion, and braced up by that preventative powder of prejudice, to secure them from sinking into the errors of praising too much the manners of old times, made up by the ingredients sifted from the dust of the " dark ages, blind zeal, ignorance, and superstition," that showed forth the manners of our ancestors, I shall follow no other impulse than an independence of opinion strictly conformable to the rules of true description and the experience of my profession. I haste then to present my travelled stores for public approbation or dispraise, even as they may so deserve. Monmouth. Improvement has made its way in this town, celebrated for the birthplace of the renowned and warlike Henry V. and the residence of that extraordinary historian Geoffry of Monmouth, by some accredited, and by others (of supposed enlightened minds) wholly scouted as a legendary dreamer, and a fabricator of idle tales. I could discover but small remnants of the walls, only one gate standing on a bridge leading towards Abergavenny; a chaste and simple design, of much effect, and in tolerable repair, thanks to its own intrinsic worth of construction ; from which cause, I conceive, it might exist to a distant period. People here with significant nods remark it cannot stand much longer. Of the castle a poor diminished spot remains, a part of the walls of a chamber, where the hero of Agincourt, the conqueror of France, first drew his breath. The proportions of this chamber show an air of grandeur, and the decorations (from one perfect window yet in view) of the first degree of refined taste. This precious morsel, one of our historic honours, is as a pearl cast into the possession of swine, wholly indifferent to them, and considered as a place the most contemptible; for a part of its interior is fenced off into stalls for asses, and the rest of the space filled up with ricks, dung, and offal ! There are some of the buildings of the priory to be met with, among which a room is shown where Geoffry took up his abode. Be this as it may, the mode of architecture is of Henry the Sixth's reign, captivating from the appearance of a delicate and elaborate bower window. The other particulars are not very remarkable. Indeed, some fifty or sixty years back, these walls might have had more claims to notice, as now Monmouth. 141 modern plasterer's work, sash-windows, square-headed doors, disguise the major part of the old work. As the beforementioned appendage to royalty is consigned to the vilest uses, so this monastic wreck is now become a receptacle to shelter certain objects of distress and poverty, with all their attendant ills of disease and loathsomeness. St. Thomas's church, on the Abergavenny side of the river, is of Saxon origin, with additions in the pointed-arch style of workman- ship ; the whole well worthy to be visited : yet the unclean and unwholesome state of the building is really beastly and disgusting. Again I inquire, why is the Lord's house to be held beneath the thought of cleanliness, while in the meanest abode of man we in general find some attention at times bestowed to have it swept and aired? St. Mary's Church is situated in the Eastern part of the town, and gives no more of the old building than a tower and spire : the body has been entirely rebuilt in the modern church way. The exterior has its parts compiled after the models of the Doric and Ionic orders, that is, as far as their architraves, entablatures, scrolls, etc. ; while the interior, instead of carrying on these systems of embellishments by progressive enrichments, presents me a complete ordonnance of the Tuscan order with all its appropriate attributes. This design can never evince either professional judgment or common skill as an artist. In such a house of prayer I can overlook the "incumbrances" of pews and galleries filling up the aisles and body of the edifice, as truly consistent with such a specimen of modern art ; but I can never consent to the indecent and unpicturesque allotment of the pulpit set directly before the altar (another modern refinement), or the surrounding so sanctified a place by the lowest and most irreverent part of the congregation, nutcracking hinds, and profligate Sunday-school boys. In this way is the taste of the age exemplified, by novelty and confusion in architectural order, and by irreligious and profane inattention in a pile consecrated to the service of Protestant devotion. Ragland Castle. [1801, Part II, pp. 908-910.] The cannon of Fairfax's besieging army made havoc of the greater part of the citadel, or keep, the grand gate of entrance, the buildings on the western side of the castle, great hall, chapel, etc. ; yet, if some late publications are correct, more ruthless despoliations and defacements have been perpetrated on this pile, of late years, for common uses, as mending roads, repairing hovels, etc., than ever was done under the force of a furious Oliverian commander; and winked at by those who least of all should be unconcerned, when the brightest gem in their ancestral line of fame can only emit a blaze, while it is reflected on from this silent memorial of all their past honours ! 142 A rchitectural Innovation, The grand gate of entrance is most eminent for architectural skill ; the avenue from which, leading into the great court, is excellent; and when the exploring visitor has entered therein, he is immediately astonished with the rich and uncommon front of the gallery-range backing the said gate of entrance. On the right, while yet opposing himself to the gallery-range, he sees the exterior of the great hall, its porch, oriel window, gallery door, and on the left one of the towers of the gate of entrance, all rushing upon his notice, to fill up one of the most interesting castellated court scenes, perhaps, to be witnessed in the kingdom. On the other sides of the court are to be found the curious- constructed oven, kitchen, and other domestic offices. The interior of the hall evinces, in various fine objects, the grandeur of its original finishings, and of every other apartment within this once splendid residence. Some vestiges of the chapel create attention, as does the site of the fountain court; and all our antiquarian pleasure is brought to its limits of observation by passing through another remnant gate of entrance on to the terrace, which, at this day, retains its smooth enamelled surface, insensibly withdrawing our notice from the sublime efforts of human art, to dwell, with unspeakable sensations, on Nature's never-changing works. Abergavenny's tremen- dous mountains called me to their cloud-topped summits. I then returned, and while re-passing all the suffering and neglected beauties of the place, I vented a wish that he, their present owner, might, in some hour of pensive recollection, receive an emotion (known only to emulating minds) in giving way to consider how Ragland would appear if once more restored to all its former powers. Walls may be made good, decorations renewed, and roofs, ceilings, floors, wainscoting, and every mansion adornment re-constructed, combining ancient magnificence with modern accommodation. This might easily be brought to pass, if real restoration should be the order from him who alone can give life to this suggested plan. Delusion ! so fly my thoughts as I onward go. Let me feast on this ideal banquet ; how transporting ! Clytha House. [1801, Part II., pp. 1 005-1008. J Well, I gained the ascent of that hill ; where, looking in the vale below, I saw the modern seat of Clytha, and the adjoining grounds. Then, looking in a horizontal direction, the sublime mountains round Abergavenny appeared before me : to the left, the dark Blorenge, whose naked height ever braves the eastern blasts; then come in view those chains of mountains inviting the curious traveller to traverse Cambria's distant climes, where antiquities are inexhaustible; to the right rises, in the most perfect degree of form, that mountain called the Sugar-loaf; and still more bearing to the right, the mountain termed St. Michael's Mount, or the Great Skyrrid. Its Clytha House. H3 craggy and red-tinged front has a remarkable chasm, which, as we are informed here, was made when our Saviour was crucified. Hence may be accounted the third name this mountain owns, viz., the Holy Mountain. Somewhat below the Sugar-loaf mountain the Little Skyrrid is very conspicuous : and, in the extremest point of sight, between the Sugar-loaf and St. Michael's Mount, the vanishing lines of the Black Mountains, inclosing the famous remains of Lanthony Abbey, conclude this delightful picture. Two gateways of the fantastic order give admittance into the paths leading to Clytha House. The first gateway I encountered was of such trifling dimensions and aspect that it was altogether below notice. Not so with regard to the other gateway; that stood before me, as who should say, I demand the tribute of praise ; my " elegance " of design must be your pass-word, or else forbear to tread the approach to yon mansion of hospitality and social converse. My pencil ; so — The cubic and superficial feet of masonry tells to account, a reasonable large piece of business ; good. The design of this gateway gave the outlines of an Edwardian ogee pedimented monument, independent of any- attached walls, with an immense pointed arch in the centre, and two smaller arches, one on each side. To decorate which, are Saxon columns without bases, and capitals without astrigils or abacuses; pinnacles rising from cornices instead of buttresses ; mouldings in the architraves, and entablatures in the Roman and Grecian "ways"; a modern honeysuckle parapet ; the ground between the great arch and its ogee pediment u perforated," and modern iron-railing fancied doors. Its thickness of wall, or return, is not more than two feet, and the back front a repetition of the particulars just specified. After what system of " improvement " this " Gothic " gateway derives its formation I cannot in any way devise, as all gateways to ancient edifices are either plain or enriched arches in their encircling walls, or erections with square or round towers, containing rooms for various uses, with a groined avenue between them, and posterns for the passing of men and carriages. I entreat information on this head ; or shall I refer me to the documents of the new Order already made known? It must be so. Being about to continue on my way, I chanced to look to an eminence nigh the road, and directly in view of Clytha House, where was another modern display of skill, in the trial of rearing up a structure to entrap the wonder of gaping travellers. This effort, an intelligent person told me, was called a castle, set up in memory of a person deceased. So, so; a memorial in a new way ; and as for this castle, from its general cast, and several parts, those I noted down were in a new way also, and directly cla-sed them under the fantastic order's dominion. Some park lodges at Coldbrook showed, on their fronts, somewhat of this whimsical combination, though too mean in appearance to need illustration. 144 Architectural Innovation. Abergavenny. Once high in praise for its stone-girt honours, in mighty walls and death-defying gates, now, only a few scattered portions of the walls and one poor gate are left. Yet, in spite (bearing in mind Sir William Dugdale's stamp of a town's wealth and prosperity, by its proud display of all its ancient defending bulwarks*) of the stagnated state of trade here, and the low ebb to which the historic consequence of the place is reduced, this last-devoted gateway is destined to be taken down ; and the sentence was passed in my hearing with that sort of hilarity which, I grieve to observe, is so general with those who are in possession of ancient structures, and who, while they vent the anti-national doom, tell out their long roll of ancestral fame, making thus their modern folly and their ancient pride, by such ungrateful deeds and useless jargon, mar the bearings on those shields which they presume to call their own. This gateway, then, in question, I own, by its just proportion, engaging simplicity, its perfect condition, excepting those parts damaged by man (not Time), make the greatest impression on my regard : it was long before I could cease to comment on its general outline. I left it, and instantly my attention was alike engaged by the lower story of an ancient house (now a blacksmith's shop). Here my investigating sensations begat the theme of merriment in the standers-by ; and, as I expressed my admiration, they let loose their sneering gibes. I was a studious antiquary ; they lounging men of Abergavenny. The castle,t although in the last stage of a dilapidated decline, still has strength to call on Antiquity's sons to witness its last pangs, and to do its memory justice. Abergavenny Castle, I then, for a short space, will abide by your agonizing remains, and administer what good I may. Believe, I grieve for your too cruel destiny. I will straight examine your disastrous state, and report accordingly. I first rounded the outer walls, where, at the north-west angle, I passed through a pickaxed aperture made therein, into a court, in the centre of which was a vast mound. Here, till of late, stood the keep, whose materials have been dragged away to mend the roads. At the said angle are vestiges of various chambers; and some of the ponderous walls on the third story overhang their curtailed supports in such a surprising manner, that my inadequate professional abilities could not, competently, engage to judge of the incomprehensive commixture of those component parts which cemented together the whole of such terrific masses. The ground-line of this court is preserved ; but the walls on the west side are nearly gone. Here was an uninterrupted view of the valley under the castle, and the * See Dugdale's "History of Warwickshire," in relation to Coventry ; and p. 222 of these Essays {ante, p. 113]. t Built before the Conquest . Abergavenny. H5 Blorenge rising beyond it. A river winds along the meadows, directing its course through an ancient bridge of many pointed arches. From the situation I then stood in, each surrounding great object might be well seen and well discriminated ; and, sure, never was a site better chosen (allowing for the " savage " nature of our " blind " ancestors) for mortal man to enjoy and contemplate on the wonderful works of the creation. The Blorenge, the chain of mountains, the Sugar-loaf Mountain, Great Skyrrid, Little Skyrrid, other remnants of the castle, the priory church, etc., etc. Such a combination of marvellous appearances like these, beheld from one point, cannot easily be paralleled in this, or, perhaps, any other kingdom. I next proceeded to the great gate of entrance into the castle, simple, yet commanding. Much destruction has been done over the arch- way, and the groins to the long avenue through it utterly demolished. Entering the great court, I at first could perceive little more than undistinguished walls ; yet, familiarized as I am to enumerate the arrangement of castles, I soon discovered the features of the great hall, kitchens, and other attendant chambers, all showing the deplorable marks of those unfeeling minds who hold such fine, ancient subjects under their " iron arms." Thus have I made out the piteous tale of Abergavenny's castle ; and, however reduced to so low an estate of decay, a sullen dignity prevails, a warning aspect is apparent. [1801, Part II., pp. 1 102, 1 103.] The priory church, of the pointed-arch style of architecture, has on its west front some peculiarities. In the centre of the design, a buttress, decorated with a very elaborate niche, is run up nearly to the pitch of the roof ; on the right side of which is a porch, and on the left is a small chapel, or, as it is called, the vestry. Above, still on each side of this buttress, are two beautiful windows ; and, still higher, keeping on the same station, are two more windows, though of exceeding small dimension. The south side of the church continues the same mode of work, but has no objects but what are useful in church arrangement. In some fenced-off corners by the west and north porches are thrown human bones ; which are open to any eye that, by chance, may glance into such unhallowed mortuaries. The plan of the church comprises a body divided into two aisles, the area of the great tower, north and south transepts, a choir, and side aisles. Various correspondents have, of late, in this Miscellany, argued pro and con about the propriety or impropriety of retaining pews in our churches for the comfort of certain portions of the congregations. These writers seem to me all to run wide of the subject. Our churches anciently were erected with an intent that their architectural lines, either of columns, recesses, monuments, etc., might meet the notice of the pious in a clear, unobstructed manner, to make due vol. x. 10 146 Architechiral Innovation. impression on their sights, and to prepare their souls to receive devotional sensations. Stalls in a choir, and some ranges of enriched benches, and correspondent reading-desks, in other stations of the building (such as are yet to be found in many churches), were generally so devised as to hide very little of the principal embellishments therein, rendering each person conspicuous, whereby all were under the necessity of preserving a decent observation of the duties of religious worship. To the point : pews in our ancient churches (which churches by some people, whom I call Goths and Vandals, and living in the "dark age" of their own prejudices, are held to be no better than mere barns) are as so many rubbish-holes to collect the filth of years, they being but in a partial manner ever cleaned or repaired; a sort of piece-patch hedge-carpentry promis- cuously huddled up, spoiling the architectural effect of the edifices, and combining, by their height and numbers, to obstruct that free circulation of air so necessary in a confine not properly aired, and where the pavement is never made good over the graves continually dug therein. In a church which will soon come under our investigation, it was declared to me that it had not been " cleaned out " for ten years past ; and, in addition, I found, in one of the aisles, the pavement in such a state, that, to passers over it, danger waylaid them, both in the hazard of breaking their necks and imbibing pestiferous infections. These are serious considerations ; and hence it might be thought that this pew property, and pew breastworks for sleeping drones, giggling youth, and tittle-tattle midway age, would soon be banished, and movable forms and other seats placed in their stead, the pavement relaid, and neatness, cleanliness, and sweet-smeiling odours take their turn in a place raised for no less a purpose than bowing down ourselves in the presence of our Creator. The order of Abergavenny Church is most certainly chargeable under this stigma of defilement ; and the admirers of our ancient arts (must I exclude all others from the chosen few ?) are distressed to see some of the finest choir-carvings and most inestimable monuments covered and surrounded with dust and broken pieces of torn-up pavement — works which, for their historic and intrinsic worth, should be universally protected. In a stopped-up window of the north aisle of the choir is a colossal statue of St. Christopher carved in oak ; and in an adjoining window, stopped up also, is a recumbent statue of a knight, cross- legged, wrought out of the like material. Viewing our antiquities with such general regard, every subject comes before me with some tie on my attachment. I may, therefore, often be too lavish in my praise ; but of this last performance no description or encomium can do adequate justice. I can only declare it as my firm opinion that, were such a statue to be consigned from abroad by some artful dealer (after a sacrilegious conveyance of it from some one of our Abergavenny. 147 churches to the Continent), our statue-collectors would know no end to their adorating plaudits, or no price too exorbitant to be hailed as the possessors of such a rare antique. Deluded man ! how I forget the foresight of others in my own national predilections ! This statue is stark naught, its legs are crossed, its hands raised in prayer, and its eyes and whole attitude in the last stage of Christian existence. It has neither the muscular concupiscence of Hercules, the unabashed virility of Pan, or the mad symbols of lascivious heathen priests and priestesses. Another tomb bears two females; one of them holds a heart between her hands, alluding, it may be, to her open-heartedness, her truth, and lack of all deceit or unfaithfulness. The rest of the tombs or monuments are many, and of the first degree of "excellence," for their rich armours, vestments, and elegant execution, still making an apology for their devotional attitudes, and for many of them representing angels, martyrs, and other scriptural characters. And let me entreat those, who may be hereafter attracted to witness the credit of my assertions, to place themselves at the west end of the south aisle of the choir, or the Herbert Chapel, and give way to a momentary weakness (love of our ancient arts), and confess that they have before them a something that has a claim to rapture, excited by the building itself, and a group of no less than six historical and magnificent tombs and monuments. I will not, however, answer for the consequences, either of their becoming converts to antiquity or, what is of no less good, impartiality in thinking as Englishmen ought to think, and it is not impossible they may exclaim, " We will henceforth be hostile to architectural innovators, and protect the labours of our remote men of science even unto the last !" The choir-work of stalls and their appendages is of that varied and high-finished work, that a real, or, what is more, a particular attention bestowed on them by an investigator, he must be constrained to become their panegyrist, supposing in him a predetermination to have set about to become their detractor. How men and manners change in a course of years ! In this choir and in these stalls, where the most sacred offices and the most dignified and revered personages were wont to be, I saw rotten rails, a rummaging table, and old disused mats, crowding up each nook and cranny ; and I saw inattentive hinds and licentious soldiery lolling about in heedless disrespect to the service of the church, at that time going on in the western part, or body of the fabric, where the more devout number of the congregation were assembled — a part now held the most fit for the better sort, not alone here, but in many other parish churches in the kingdom. 10 — 2 148 Architectural Innovation. Lantony Abbey. [1801, Part 7/., pp. 1 169, 1 170.] I have under my reading Sir Henry Spelman's "History and Fate of Sacrilege," where I find that those who have laid violent hands on, disfigured, or pulled down the buildings consecrated' to religion, in all ages have, either in their own persons or their progeny, suffered mental derangement or corporeal ills, loss of property, or their lives at last terminated in some untimely end. A dreadful warning this his book ! I believe in it most devoutly, not being wholly without proof of this sacrilegious fatality under my own observation ; but of this in due time. Men born to taste misfortunes, no admonitions, no presages, can withhold their destiny. Thus ill-fortune is ever courted; or else why is all this fury levelled at our national structures, which have been used for holy purposes ? Have they, then, no unseen power to stem the threatened vengeance? no ghastly sights to unnerve the uplifted arm ? no voice of death to cry "Destroy no more"?. . . The west front, the greater part of which is in the pointed-arch manner, may be set down as retaining nearly all its original objects ; and for those coming under the head of superior "excellence," I shall only point out the great west window, the rest of the accom- paniments still keeping their degree of affinity, so as to combine taste and symmetry together. The south side of the church has lost its side-aisle. The eastern front is reduced to an inconsiderable portion of work. The great tower standing in the centre of the nave, the choir, and the transepts, has been rent in twain, the western half being the remains left standing. The transepts give little more than confused heaps of demolished walls. The north side of the nave is rather entire, having its side-aisle with groins, windows, etc. All other groinings to the several parts of the edifice are totally gone; and the nave, as far as its columns, arches, architraves, windows, etc., can show, is in the best preservation. The choir is a fallen hecatomb indeed, though not so levelled but some particles of its former con- sequence are yet visible. The cloisters may be traced by some scattered walls, where, on the eastern side, the greater part of the chapter-house still maintains its station; and between it and the line of the south transept is a groined apartment, extremely well designed, and in very good repair. These remains of Lantony Abbey have, for these few years past, been the meed of praise to the tourist, and a picturesque study to the artist;* each, by the force of panegyric and delineatory skill, hath added a new fascination to the scene. They have made known the abbey's situation amid mountains that seem to forbid the approach * See in particular Mr. Coxe's " History of Monmouthshire." Crick HoweL 149 of anyone but those who come to render unfeigned homage to its solemn aspect. They have revived its history, so full of royal devo- tion and monastic mortification ; and they have inspired an ardent zeal in the curious traveller, to examine in the abbey's present hour those antiquarian delights so closely wound round each stone-girt spirit (guardians of these aisles), standing in undefaced security, or laid low in pickaxed ruin ! Crick Howel. [1802, Part I. , pp. 22-24.] The castle, the left half of the gateway, and some unintelligible parts of walls of this building, are all that are to be met with; though the mound whereon stood the keep is in being, and the general out- lines of the works may be easily made out. If we may form an opinion of the design of the castle itself from the remnant gateway, it must have been on a very grand scale ; and it was impossible to overlook the excellent quality of the masonry in its composure of materials, and that just principle by which the whole of the parts are combined ; these, like Abergavenny's defensive relics, appearing to bid Time keep aloof if man forbear his force. Standing in the area of these ruins, I, as I turned, still beheld encircling mountains, many of which showed themselves in shapes most strange and marvellous. The Church. — Being desirous to see some monuments of the Herberts, which I had been given to understand were in the chancel, I first observed one which stands on the north side, where, on the tomb part, or pedestal, is a reclining statue of Sir John Herbert. He rests on his left side, and a statue of Joan his wife lies in the usual recumbent attitude. There are likewise two half-length figures at the east end of the pedestal. Sir John is in armour, which, with the dresses of the other figures, show the fashion to be Oliverian, as the date in the inscription (1666) evinces that he died not long after the termination of the usurper's existence. I cannot precisely determine as I now write whether at this regicide hour of change in political and religious affairs, sepulchral statues began to be put up in our churches in that indecent way we are constrained to witness, of their either turning their heads from, or their backs against, the altar, or Communion-table ; but so it is. In the instance before us, Sir John is in the action of quitting his appeal to so holy a spot ; and his lady reposes with her head to the east and her feet to the west, her arms remaining in careless unemploy, instead of that reverential raising of the hands we in ancient statues are wont to behold. Here, no doubt, some enlightened readers will smile at my weakness in leaning (by this remark) so near the verge of that dreadful gulf, super- stition. I beg them to be merciful to me, a frail mortal, in their stern conclusions on this point, and impute error as the cause of so manifest a transgression. Architectural Innovation. Not being satisfied with the sight of such a memorial as I have described, I searched about for those monumental works which so admirably combine ancient devotion and sculpture together ; and it was some time before I could satisfy my curiosity, this part of the fabric being so filled up with pew-lumber, and the other usual ob- structions of ragged mats and hassocks. On each side of this chancel then I perceived, under arched recesses, statues of a lady on the north, and a knight on the south side ; but they were covered with all kinds of rubbish, and it was not until the sexton had cleared out the recesses that I could have a proper view of them; and before I was enabled to pass any opinion on their merits, I was obliged to reinstate the mutilated parts, by fixing on the lady's head, and put- ting together the several extremities of the knight. How was I grieved and charmed at the same time, in witnessing such neglect and havoc — such elegance and grace ! Yet, in this abuse of these statues, I obtained much information, as they had not been thought worthy by churchwarden authority of being whitewashed, to decipher out many a rare embellishment, either of the raiment of the softer sex, or the maily guise of manhood. By the arms on the surcoat of the knight he was a Herbert. In this way I added store to my antiquarian hoard, a stock which I have but few opportunities to lay out to use, or to benefit our pretenders to antiquities, who in general, and the more so if professional men, presume too much on their own notions of improving on ancient lore than taking up upon credit from my firm of selections worked out of the mine of science known among us in older times. Well, another age may think less of them- selves, and more of their ancestors ; less of the "new fantastic order of architecture," and more of the old English order of architecture ; less of " capricious fancy," and more of refined taste. White Castle. When we are in a disposition to be morose, society does not always drive away so ungracious a passion ; therefore we are best left to ourselves till this phlegmatic propensity has subsided, and a return of our natural gaiety inclines us to think all we find addressed to our senses pleasant and agreeable. In this mood of sullen restraint I have trod many a weary step : I welcome now the other operation of the mind, a disposition to be happy. Quick flew the moments, and lightly tripped our feet, as forth we walked towards this warlike structure. A guide led the way, a worthy soul, an open and a cheerful heart, a learned too, and one who venerated in truth our ancient works ; now the merry tale, anon the serious record ; com- bining thus the entertaining and instructive ways of men to keep alive that genial flow of spirits so necessary to bear us out in life's White Castle. 151 pilgrimage, with due fortitude and resignation, towards that "bourne from whence no traveller returns." This castle is now far removed from all resort of men, save a few cottages, which with their humble roofs were hid by their insignifi- cance from standing in any seeming before its mighty front. Around we went the strong enduring circle ; told every tower, wall, and loophole — an arduous task it was, the circuit being of such a pro- digious girth. The works are divided into three distinct courts ; one of which has little to mark its order but the base line of demo lished masonry. The other courts stand almost entire in their exterior design, simple in architectural forms, but sublime in effect. The grand entrance into the centre or principal court is romantic to a degree ; and, as I essayed to gain its rugged ascent, seeing on either hand no objects but wild underwood and a deep-cut foss, and before me two tremendous towers and an arched entrance, which seemed to grin destruction, I wholly gave in to the impulse of the moment, that I was an adventurous being of old times, about to achieve some perilous exploit. ... In our way back to Abergavenny we were induced to look at Lanvethrin Church, the tower of which, forming the west front, is remarkable, as are many other particulars, both on the exterior as well as the interior of the church. We were most attracted by a very ancient monumental statue of a religious, placed in a silly way on its edge against the south exterior or wall of the building. There are some readings on it, which have exercised the learning as well as the wit of many literary men. Here Sir H. Spelman's "History and Fate of Sacrilege " reminds me to follow his example, by repeating a circumstance which the clerk of the church acquainted me with, relative to this statue. About a hundred years ago, a grave was dug at the east end within the fabric, when, coming to a certain depth, the statue before us was discovered. Four men employed themselves to raise it up, who afterwards cast it out into the churchyard, and otherwise sacrilegiously used it. Some time after this transaction, these four persons all met with violent deaths : one was lost at sea, another was drowned in Lincolnshire, a third drowned himself in an adjoining brook, and the fourth hanged himself. Whether from these warnings, or from whatever cause it may be, this statue has a show of much veneration paid to it ; which is sufficiently made appear by the very perfect state it is in at present, although placed in the way above specified. [1802, Part I., pp. 126, 127.] I now made my entrance into Monmouth ; whence I repaired to Goodrich Castle, a short distance, and full of picturesque scenery, varying at every tread from pleasing to terrific, and from terrific again to pleasing. Architectural Innovation. Goodrich Castle. The architecture of these remains is simple, and the lines of the plan are regular. The towers, which are circular, introduced a new feature to my attention ; they rising from square basements, whose diminishing angles, unwilling as it were to quit their changeful bodies, still cling about them, until they become edge-drawn into very nothing. The situation of this castle is on the point of a rocky eminence, and appears to have had its materials dug out on the exterior of the plan ; by which ingenious labour a very deep foss was gained, and the construction itself received a ready and constant supply from that quarry whose excavation served to secure the approach of a defence it had thus contributed to render so durable and so stately. The east front, near its north-east angle, has the entrance, with a bridge of two arches leading directly into it. The second arch, or, to speak more properly, a masonic chasm, is imme- diately before the gateway ; and, from its present look, it may be inferred here was some military false covering to deceive assailants, who, on their gaining this part of the bridge, were precipitated into the fatal opening, and instantly hurled by the stream through a com- municating passage in the centre pier to the first arch, down a rugged cliff, to unavoidable destruction. These were my conceptions, which did not much embolden me to step along a narrow nook of wall flanking the sides of the above stratagem, barely leaving room for my feet to enable me to make good my passage into the castle ; the chasm on my left, and the precipitous foss on the right. Certainly, in this trial, an uneven pace must have doomed me to the fate of many a foregone victim, whose temerity had got the ascendant of his better judgment. They followed bright Fame in arms ; I, baleful innovation in antiquities. I, however, arrived safe under the gateway, though not without feeling at the instant that sort of tremor ever attending a " dread of something," we know not what. Solitude, silence, and objects strange, which, from their dark and hagged semblances, added to my suspicion and mistrust, increased this same nervous " superstition." Resolute as I am in going through an achievement of this kind, I stopped short, to consider the avenue before me, extending from the entrance to the great court, a pass of not less than sixty or seventy feet, headed over with ponderous arches and ribs, in rueful variety. I then proceeded, with much caution and little noise. With hesi- tating eye I counted two grooves, wherein had been a portcullis to each, and a door on the right leading to small winding chambers. Uncertain light, and more uncertain footing, prevented my researches here ; I therefore continued my slow march of observation along the avenue, until I came out into the great court. After a short interval of due reflection, I regained some of my usual confidence, forgot my Goodrich Castle. 153 fears, and, after looking with an awed respect around, made the circuit of the area wherein I then stood. I enumerated on the left, adjoining the entrance avenue, the remains of a large and stately chapel, telling divers windows with their stone seats, almeries, holy-water niches, the site of the altar, etc. Hence pro- ceeding to the right, I examined a variety of apartments. These arrangements occupied the east side of the court. I then turned the angle to the south side, and ascended a grand flight of steps, which gave me the opportunity to look into that space where had been the principal chambers of the castle. Next I encountered the keep, a fine piece of Saxon architecture, possessing many parts deserving of nice discrimination. West side of the court : mostly taken up by the great hall, butteries, great kitchen, and a remnant of some excel- lent co'umns and arches, showing forth as a superior porch or avenue, leading to the range of chambers which must have run along the north side of the court, although not any of their lines are in being, excepting the windows in the wall, standing over the foss on this side. In one of the stone seats of these windows I sat down to rest myself, and partake of some refreshments which I had brought with me. Now I ate my biscuit, then I sipped my cup (much satisfaction sparkling on the brim) to the memory of those artists' hands who had shaped all the interesting objects before me into notice. And ever as I turned to look over the extended vale below, I saw the church and spire of Ross, the pleasant Wye, and that point of the horizon where lay my distant home. Chepstow. [1802, Part I., pp. 206-209.] The Castle. — This vast pile is erected on a height made by the association of many rocks, as one eternal support to such an aggran- dized work of defence. The north side of this height rises perpen- dicular from the Wye, presenting a natural basement wall ; while the other three sides show the excavated labours of man, which, as at Goodrich Castle, not only gave the foss, but supplied the materials for the edifice above — an undertaking of the greatest concern to the architect, who, by the expanse here allowed him, had an opportunity to exercise the utmost of his skill. As for the expense incurred on works like these, that must have been but a negative thought; extent, grandeur, and security, were, beyond a doubt, the emulating causes which directed the formation of Chepstow Castle. The general plan is divided into four large courts, having two entrances, one to the east, and one to the west. Their south sides run along the foss, and their north sides overhang the river. This latter range being inaccessible to any force, the line of the great kitchen, great hall, grand chambers, and bowers, here present themselves, in every mark of rich decoration, in their windows, etc., etc., whereas the 154 Architectural Innovation. former flanks of the works, liable to constant attacks, are masoned in the simplest and most defensible manner, with no other apertures than loopholes, in small square openings, and long and narrow, and cross ditto. In taking the out-round of these walls, I obtained an instructive lesson of the first use, in a progressive train of architectural forms, from plain design, to that of the most elaborate composition, and set forth in the various modes of workmanship from the earliest times down to the sixteenth century. The west entrance, which is a large square tower with an archway in the centre, has before it a portion of a centrical pier to a two- arched bridge crossing the foss into the entrance here specified. As on the right of this remnant bridge the foss is keen, so on the left is descried a headlong declivity preparing the hollow course for its ter- mination in the sometimes agitated and whirlpooled stream below. This ancient military consignment to a double death in raging cataracts (adverting to the time when the foss was full of water), and rending precipices, refers us again to Goodrich Castle in the like method of fortification, followed more immediately at the entrance into either. A chasm here is also to be met with, but it is con- structed directly within the entrance, that at Goodrich being wholly without the work. From the demolished and hazardous access into the castle by this pass, I found it not either safe or practicable to explore its particular parts, which, it is not impossible, ere long, may be past the curious determinations of anyone, as there has been built near it lately a kiln, which receives at discretion the stones to be burnt for lime, either from the adjoining rocks or the basement of this entrance tower, already much undermined by this sort of depredation. Surely, when the tower falls, will anyone have the effrontery to lay the blame on Time, the usual stalking-horse with our antiquity dilapidators ? Repairing to the east front of the castle, I found the approach extremely easy, being along a gentle rise ; indeed, it is now the common entrance for all visitants into this noble place. I perceived this entrance was well defended by three circular towers, one at an adjoining angle, and one on each side of the gate- way ; and as I passed under its arches I saw the portcullis groove, and the perforated perpendiculars in their soffits, for casting down missive weapons, or to accelerate the letting down or drawing up of the portcullis. Finding myself in the first court, I instantly was made susceptible to the noble appearance of the erections around ; and, notwithstanding much disfigurement was discernible on every part, the principal arrangement of the court was very intelligible. On the left is the court front of that round tower (faced with a square wall) which, we have already hinted, was at an angle of the walls ; on the right are the great kitchen and great hall, with intermediate apart- ments between them; and directly before my position of view a circular tower securing the gateway to the second court. Before I Chepstow. 155 survey the interior of the tower at the angle aforesaid, it will be proper to say that it has obtained the appellation of " Martin's Tower," from the detestable regicide of that name,* who was confined here till his death after the Restoration of Charles II. The door- way, of primitive and remarkable form, to this tower being opened by my conductor, admission was had to the first story, where the most prominent features showed three loopholes, which, in their exten- sions, gave sufficient room for several men at a time to discharge their arrows, one holding his bow above another's, by means of the narrow openings being made adequate in height for that purpose. Under this story is a cavity called " The Dungeon " to give an insight into which the floor has in most parts been torn up. Much gloom pervaded the whole scene ; and I, as my usual impulse directed, was soon conveyed back to remote times, and to that time when the first defenders of this castle flourished. In an instant I found myself hemmed in with the archers who maintained this point of the walls. I saw their energetic attitudes, heard their twang of bows, their hum of security, and the dying cries of the besiegers. Yet, in this historic lapse, I could not be informed by my comrades if the dark cell beneath was to contain their prisoners ; their tongues were silent, but their fiery eyes, scowling from beneath their iron brows, frowned out, " Forbear your ill-timed inquiries." And one of them being about to centre his bow directly against my ruffled breast, my true ray of vision returned ; and I found my conductor then holding me from precipitating myself into the very abyss that had at my first entrance caused me so much terror. I next ascended a circular staircase to the second story, consisting of one large chamber and a small retiring closet. This was the confine for Martin (his domestics dwelling on the floor above), having two bower-windows, the largest of which looked into the court ; the other, with two loophole windows, had a view of the river and town of Chepstow. Two compartmented chimney-pieces also had their share of decoration, and on the whole gave a very good specimen of ancient accommodation, meaning long before the regicide had contaminated it. Half-way up the stairs leading to the third story is a small but elegant oratory, with three windows, a chimney-piece, holy-water niche, and site of the altar. The roof and floor were destroyed ; when looking through the latter part, a sensible insight, not unmixed with some degree of affright, was had to a portcullised avenue (a particular new to me in a station like this) leading on to the battlements of the walls below me. It was with some difficulty that I got on the leads of this Martin's Tower, to look at the statues sculptured on the battlements around it ; as the whole work of this part in particular, and indeed the tower itself, was in a very decaying state, for want of some necessary repairs * Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxi., p. 204. [Quotation from Coxe's "Historical Tour in Monmouthshire," p. 193.] 156 Architectural Innovation. to a building truly meriting preservation. Descending the tower, I crossed the court, and went into the great kitchen, a remnant of a large and rich construction. The apartments between this place and great hall are rather entire, and are occupied by the people who show the castle. The most remarkable subjects therein were a bower groined, retaining its window, etc., and a curious avenue with arches and groins, descending to an extensive vault, showed under the title of "The Cellar." Due consideration is requisite to note over the corbels, groins, and the opening, or door hanging over the river, which at high tide flows into a cleft in the rock under this cellar, arched and groined in a very singular way. The great hall is a complete ruin — that is, a dilapidated reproach to the owner, who suffers by neglect such architectural innovation. The second court contains an insignificant portion of remnant buildings. The third court is merely taken up by a sumptuous assemblage of archi- tectural relics on three stories, and although the floors, groins, and ceilings have been carried off, yet there exists such a multifarious display of windows, columns, arched recesses, chimney-pieces, etc., etc., that participating minds, intent to give ancient merit its rightful degree of attention, may with a ready hand particularize out the finest combinations of art constituting a lordly, nay a princely, abode, that can anywhere be encountered. The fourth court shows one continued rage of innovation, convulsed in chasms, tumbled walls, inverted arches, opened vaults, rocks rent, and earth uptorn ! In real dismay at these sacrifices to human power, I withdrew entirely out of the castle, without one flattering hope that what I had beheld of its prostrate horrors was either a delusion, or the effects of a heated imagination. The remains of the walls of Chepstow town are only to be met with on the north and west sides thereof, in whose line are two circular towers and one gateway. This gateway enters the walls at the junction of the roads from Monmouth and Newport ; in its form simplicity prevails, and the proportions of the archway are very correct. One or two ancient buildings stand on each side of the High Street ; but they are either converted into stables or store- houses, the usual lot of such-like structures out of habitable use, or religious worship — structures endeared to us antiquity-lovers by their historic inference and their rare specimens of arches, columns, groins, etc. The Church. — This edifice owes its origin to the Saxon style ; a large archway at the west front, a smaller one in the north porch, and the upright in the interior, sufficiently convince us that high taste directed its first completion. Ages passing on have introduced other modes on the various parts of the fabric ; and the last alteration (a few years back) on the west front has made a vile mockery of all the preceding attempts, in a ridiculous farrago patched on by some Tintern Abbey. 157 conceited country mason, whose habits as an architect seem to have been squared by the theoretical dreamings of amateur scribes, who may have at times presumed to set in competition unpractical propo- sitions with the actual surveys of those who hold up to England's sons the architectural glory of their ancestors. Tintern Abbey. [1802, Part I. , pp. 301-303.] Firmly believing that in our monastic seclusions there were men pious, charitable and humane, learned, and skilled in the fine arts (see their sumptuous edifices, one incontestable proof at least), in- dustrious in the common transactions of the world, cheerful of heart, content of mind, and free from dissimulation, fear or guile — think- ing on these things as possible some ages gone, I gave in to their impressions ; and as I passed the rock-divided avenue leading towards this distinguished pile, I looked with a sort of second-sight at every moss-browed cave or aged oak, as though I saw beneath their gloom the white-robed brethren's retiring shadows yet fleeting before my descending tread. They seemed to wave me on to the haunted fane, where round each relict doorway, window, arch or tower, in airy windings or earthly prostrations, they still showed me what remained of all that once was glorious. Those voids where erst had stood the cloisters, domestic buildings, the north aisle of the nave of the church, the groins, monuments and altars, these visionary forms to aid me in my strict survey filled up the lines in attitudes most intelligible, whereby I found that here a chapel once was situated, there a tomb, a brass, or shrine was placed in awful state ; in short, no circumstance was wanting to render me a true insight into their most flourishing day. As reveries must give way to certainty, as day must submit to night, so I saw insensibly fade on my memoranda all the accumulated stores on which I had so much counted. In reality, then, and in sober mood, I began to sketch my several views, and note my general remarks ; and it was now I perceived real beings that thronged the vestiges of St. Mary's hallowed aisles. Without the portals, poor hovelled creatures demanded charity from casual visitations, which once was doled to their forefathers in daily gifts in order, lacking neither prayers nor holy orifices. Within the sanctified space, touristical perambulators, full of refined notions and high taste, sported off their several opinions by way of giving hints for the improvement of the natural defects and present condition of the edifice. One was for " using the hammer to advantage " in de- molishing the pedimental finish at the west front, as presenting an appearance extremely ungraceful, although he could not but own it bespoke the strong character of all such terminations. The mullions of the west window, he also maintained, required a few judicious 158 A rchitectural Innovation . strokes ; its tracery was too perfect and formal, and wanted variety. Another remarked what a good effect resulted from the north aisle of the nave having been taken down ; and he gave his vote for a like look-out on the south side of this part of the church. As for the four grand arches in the centre, between the nave, transept and choir, a grave and wise-looking personage declared u that it was his unqualified sentiments, that as four principal objects in one view are not consonant with picturesque disposition, and that three particularities gave the precise definition of true composition, he would recommend the arch next the choir to be destroyed imme- diately." Then a pert, assuming gentleman, full of learned quota- tions from Latin and Greek MSS., and from those volumes which have inundated the world in praise and elucidation of Roman and Grecian architecture, and who, by his rapturous recitals of Italian masters and Italian schools, I kenned was some professionalist fraught with contempt for his own country's arts, and adoration for those climes whose natives laugh at the dupes they make to fabricated antiques and desolated heaps of masonry that cannot be discriminated. This accomplished squire thus said: "That as the various arches within his view partook of the pointed manner, they had not either elegance in their sweeps or truth in their centerings ; and as an entire neglect of iron cramps to hold their materials together was most glaring, and that some 'superstitious charm' alone sustained the whole fabric, a good knock-down blow from a 16-pounder should settle the whole business. Here," says he, " I would point my cannon, whose ball, glancing at the north aisle of the choir, must soon level that reprehensible upright ; then smack take me out the famous column, as it is idly termed, in the middle of the east window, yet standing in defiance of time or its perilous situation. This would I do in contempt of your ' Gothic ' workmanship, your ' bar- barous ' founders, or the flights of modern panegyrists in vindication of false taste and those ' dark ages ' which gave such ' rude '* con- structions birth." A hearty-looking man, after peering round the limits of the church, proposed that all the rubbish he there saw lying about of — of— (I must help him in the enumeration) ribs, of groins, their bosses charged with foliage, shields of arms, basso- relievos, etc., tops of stone coffins, a statue of a knight with "six" fingers on each hand, as authors set down, though, allowing for the folds of the ring-armour, there are no more than the usual number man owns to ; part of a statue of a religious, and another of the Virgin and Child. He (his own phrase again) would cart away to Piercefield, as helps to strengthen the new encircling park wall there, which by such assistance may stand till the whole demesne acknow- ledges some new master. Though different conclusions in point of picturesque beauty had thus divided my select company, yet they * Cant words with the common herd of scribes who write on our antiquities. Tintern Abbey. 159 concurred to unite in admiration of the green mantling ivy covering the major part of the whole pile, as constituting Tintern's chief delight ; notwithstanding each eye plainly saw its sapping devasta- tions carrying on into the very core of each wall whereon it had in- corporated and entailed its destructive vegetation. Not so thinks every one ; for a certain person had got from Bristol men and scaffolding to cut down this ivy, that he, having most right so to do, might behold those architectural features which had so long been hid under the leafy guise. Doubt, however, arising that the remedy might be worse than the malady — it being hinted to him that labourers are not very tender in such desperate cases, and that the curtailments might prepare the way for the downfall of the edifice — he very properly laid aside his intended purpose. The result of my survey. There is very little more remaining of the cloisters than the mere site ; however, on the north side are remains of some grand vaulted stories. The west front of the church regular, full of rich work, and in a good state of preservation, having suffered but superficially in the wreck of dilapidation. We cannot say much of the south and east fronts, as they are entirely covered with ivy. The north front nearly destroyed. The remnant south side of the nave, transepts, and choir bear their honours undimin- ished, except the groins, which, it must be confessed, comprised one- third of their general design. The style of the architecture is in the Pointed manner, perfect in its several degrees, and sublime in appro- priate embellishments. This abbey-church, to artists who are skilled in taking views of our antiquities, is considered by them as the chief model in the land for enriching their scenic knowledge, and ensuring pecuniary rewards from their well-selected imitations of its various parts. I cannot but call to mind a recent instance of mortality, and its connection with handed-down events for more than two centuries past. It appears that the title of the Bedford family was never enjoyed by the immediate heir, or by immediate descent from father to son ; and that some premature conclusion or other was ever attached to the noble name. Caldicot Castle. [1802, Part I., pp. 416, 417.] Accustomed to behold defensive structures placed on eminences, I in the present instance found this castle raised on a low marshy ground, at no more than a mile distance from the Bristol Channel. All its former importance must, therefore, have resulted from the grandeur of its design alone, unaided in regard to scenic effect, by hanging woods, romantic rocks, or distant mountains, appearances which so distinguish other the like works. The lines of this castle at present are nearly reduced to the encircling walls, wherein is presented i6o Architectural Innovation. one large court. It is worthy of remark that I found three distinct entrances, one in the principal front, one in a round, and one in a square tower on the other fronts. The principal or grand entrance is a noble elevation, and regular in all its parts ; the gateway capacious, the windows of a desirable size, the entablature and open- work battlements appropriate, and the sides of the erection flanked with lofty square towers, which upon the whole well disposes us to conceive the dignity of the other arrangements of the several buildings when in their pride of perfect order and full occupation. On the right of this entrance is a range of fine windows of the largest dimensions, and which no doubt point out that they made a part of the great hall of the castle. It is common, in these kind of structures, to witness the walls composed of rough, irregular courses of masonry, excepting the coin-stones, the jambs of doors, windows, cornices, etc., which we always find perfectly wrought ; yet, in the example before us, the finishing of every particular has been alike attended to. The courses are of large and equal-sized stones, truly squared and nicely jointed, whose faces are so smooth (that is, where the destroying mattock has not been employed), and so " un-honeycombed," that they are well enabled to belie the assertions of those adulators of Grecian artificers, that such men alone knew how to give uniformity to their labours, or durability to their constructions. However our modern professionalists stick up such ideal superior merit over our traduced ancient art in this respect, yet I consider they know only their own presumption in favour of Continental architecture, and but little of research for perfection in modes of building in such an out- of-the-way and deserted spot, as shows to us, who come forth in honour of our ancient brethren, Caldicot Castle. . . . I passed under the avenue of the gateway ; nothing of affright or terror, as heretofore, from view of arches in sullen order, stretching over my head ; no, light and elegant groins, pleasing recesses, doors, and other properties, presented each their several inducements to call me on to do their deserts justice. On each hand were doors entering into dilapidated chambers where innumerable traits of chimney-pieces, bower-windows, etc., corroborated my above suggestions of this castle's original splendid state, judging from this grand gate of entrance. Within the court all was a waste, a mere architectural shadow for the fancy of such an one as me to catch at in aid of resolution, my purposes lacking fire from every vestige to cry, Go on. In the remnant towers at the several angles of the walls I encountered many things worthy drawing from ; my experience was increased, was confirmed. Caerwent. [1802, Part L, p. 417.] Among the few Roman buildings in this country, that have withstood the rage of time, or mortal despoliators, as escaping a universal Caerwent. 161 extirpation, this military station appears to be the most considerable ; the lines of the whole exterior form are very visible, being of an oblong figure, and measure rather more than a mile in circumference. On the east side are parts of the general wall, with a moiety of the gateway entering into the area. The west side shows alike some wall, and a corresponding particle of a gateway also. The north side of the station has but small traces of the wall ; but on the south side it is rather entire, and flanked with projecting octangular towers rising to a height not less than 20 feet. From facings of the masonry, and the breaches in the wall at different points, much information is derived of the mode made use of in its construction • and as a proof of the extraordinary qualities of the materials in their combination, a large mass of the wall on this side, 12 feet in height and 22 feet in length, has fallen from its position, and now lies in one body, as though it were part of a huge rock rent in twain by some convulsive shock in Nature. Towards the south-east angle of the area are the remnants of a tessellated pavement, which, from its exposed position, is open to the inclemency of the elements, and the pilferings of curious visitors. I could not make out much of its first-intended form, or any particular shapes, except a Guillochi or the like. This is the only sample of the building to be met with within the wall (excepting the modern village, houses, etc.), whatever may in time to come be discovered under the present level of the ground. To those amateur artists who are engaged in such explora- tions, and who, no doubt, may carry on their exer'iions here^ I submit this advice to attend them in their several efforts : let them pay more attention in their copies to what is really existing of such remains, than to futile suppositions in setting forth by demonstration that such and such embellishments once filled up this and that hiatus ; and, instead of giving remnants which meet their notice and come under their sketching, an ideal restoration (through the assistance of professional artists, eminent in drawing the human figure, ornaments, etc.), present to the world faithful facsimiles of subjects which they, as miners in antique lore, so pretend to admire and imitate. Bristol. [1802, Part I., pp. 516-518.] In my passage over Aust Ferry, my attention was wholly taken up to catch the various views that Chapel Rock afforded ; and I essayed at something like a sketch of the ruined chapel on it ; but the still changing course of the vessel wherein I was still changed the aspect of the building, so that my attempt became in a manner fruit- less. Thus, in this momentary struggle to gain a desired purpose, I brought into a small compass the moral of human life. I made good my landing on the Gloucestershire shores ; thence journeying through Bristol, as I there noted two or three churches, I vol. x. 11 162 Architectural Innovation. could not but perceive that they had undergone a thorough architec- tural innovation, the work of which showed that it ranked them under the standard of the " Fantastic Order of Architecture," whose institu- tution we have set forth — vol. lxxi., p. 1005. [Ante, p. 143.] Bath. Bath has so diminished itself of its ancient architectural conse- quence, by constructing of modern parades, places, squares, cres- cents, circuses, and promenades ; and the last record to convince incredulous minds that history sometimes may tell the truth, the Abbey Church, yet permitted to rear up its sacred towers, is so sur- rounded and encroached upon by hovels even thrust into its very walls, its interior so filled with mortuary lie-traps, theatric galleries, and boxes for fashion, folly, and religious inattention, that the head and the heart of an antiquary are distracted and torn when aiming to make out his bill of commodities taken up to traffic with, whereby his ventures may turn to some account. Heat intense, vapours obnoxious, waters that freeze and boil, con- fusion, riot, and dissipation, Bath's health-restoring blessings had now no lures for me. Some eight or nine years past, to partake of a sovereign benefit, in making plans, elevations, and sections, of the Abbey Church, I bore through a three-weeks regimen of daily taking in an unpleasant mixture, composed of a few square feet of right old English pointed-arch solid masonry, and an untold number of feet of your modern Roman and Grecian superficial ditto ; the first ingre- dients to act as an astringent to brace up my nerves, to remain stanch to my architectural principles, and the latter to pass off as a purgative to clear my habit of the new and false impressions wormed into the noble science I so much admire. Turning my back on Bath at this time in haste, I got on my way, pondering that I was soon to enjoy a sight high in the praise of antiquarian fame, a sight more fraught with the majesty of our ancient architecture that any I had partook of in this my present tour. Do I then ken the important post, where I am to try my utmost power, the force of all my life's experience, to surround, to enter at every avenue, to take each out-work, inner mansion — yea, the great fane itself? I am prepared. Malmesbury. From the remnant walls in many parts of the town, it is evident that they when perfect must have been of a superior order ; and, at the entrance into the place from Farringdon, their height, winding direction, and fine masonry, establish this position in a noble, or rather a romantic, degree. Not any of the gates are left ; the last of which, guarding the above approach, was pulled down within these ten or twelve years, upon no other consideration than that the Malmesbury, 163 materials were handy to mend the road with. On the outside of the western wall, near the west front of the Abbey Church, is a small oratory, said to be built on tne site where the first religious of Malmes- bury took up their abode ; and, notwithstanding its mutilations and defilements, shows much of delicate and elaborate design. There are also, at the extremity of the town, leading to Chippenham, some vestiges of rich architecture, to which mean almshouses have been attached ; other almshouses, of regular though simple workmanships are to be met with within the town. On the premises of an inhabi- tant is part of a Saxon font, enriched with a profusion of sculptures, both of statues and ornaments. Adjoining the market-place are remains of a small religious building (now the principal inn) — such as the gateway, cloister, and some chambers, with many original decora- tions, as a holy-water basin within the gateway, painted glass in the kitchen, etc. The Market Cross. — It is of an octangular figure, and much enriched ; on the turret in the centre, supported by the eight oct- angular flying buttresses, is a crucifix and several statues. This relic, considering the few designs of this sort in being among us, owes its preservation to a noble personage of the neighbourhood, who, by a liberal expenditure, has put it into a good state of repair. Yet though the workmen employed were peremptorily ordered to adhere to the original finishings, they have in a careless manner (let me say they were under the mania of improving our ancient architecture) attended to the perfect parts of the cross, and to antiquarian judg- ment rendered this object a theme for much dispraise and censure. However, the motive of the right honourable protector must not suffer from the wilful inaccuracies of perverse artificers. His example is of the first commendation, to instigate his compeers to go forth and do likewise. Near the west front of the Abbey Church is the gable end of an edifice which, tradition tells us, is a moiety of the castle which once dignified the town ; there are beneath its walls some vaults remaining. The Abbey House. — Its erections are considerable, and exhibit three distinct periods of architecture. The approach from the eastern end of the church is through a simple Saxon doorway. The basement story of the house is in the early pointed-arch manner, of much importance in the construction and detail of the several charac- ters. The upper stories are of the Henry VII. and VIII. dates ; indeed, no other way interesting than that they help our contempla- tion on persons and on circumstances previous to that change which first made way to reduce the renown of Malmesbury's ancient abbey to its present condition, the church of which we shall now proceed to survey, with pain it must be, from such thoughts, and pleasure, which cannot be restrained, that there is still visible so much of it to gratify our curiosity and research. 164 Architectural Innovation. [1802, Part II., pp. 627-630.] The Abbey Church. — Upon tracing the lines of its plan, I found the walls reduced to the nave, a few portions of the north and south transepts, and the south-east angle of the cloisters. If the information which I have received is correct, the three western divisions of the nave and the choir were in a ruinous state some time previous to the demise of Henry VIII. A west front, therefore, was run up at that time in the third or easternmost of the three divisions aforesaid ; and an eastern wall in the last division of the nave, or entrance under the great tower which divides the two transepts. These repairs bespeak the architecture of the period alluded to ; an indifferent, makeshift mode of work, as if the pious brotherhood had more than a bare surmise in concluding that to rebuild the western and eastern extremities of the church in their former magnificent manner would be an ineffectual and useless undertaking. Anticipation whispered to them that their pride of art was near its fatal termination ; general reverence, so long its fervent adorer, was turning to behold the Roman and Grecian styles that were advancing forward to begin the change which was so soon to take place in their national architecture. In this way must we account for the present appearance of the west and east fronts, so unworthy the rest of the building, which we find was designed in the Saxon mode, when so many instances of the grand characteristic of this order, the semicircular arch, and that refined feature the pointed arch, seemed to maintain so powerful a contest which should gain the mastery of science : the latter species we know triumphed, and burst into an order constituted purely on its native excellence, which, in the fourteenth century, stood confessed the glory of this land. The upper story of the building (that is, in the remains before us) evidently shows it was reconstructed in the reign of Edward III., as every particular of the work is in the most beauteous and perfect degree of the pointed-arch manner. Some dressings in the like method have also been inserted into the windows, and other decorations, of the first story. The west front is literally cut in twain, and the right-hand half stands in the best state of preservation, excepting its upper finishings. Hence our scrutinizing eyes may take the most exact copies of every moulding and ornament, some of which are so sharp in their parts, and so intelligible to minds leaning this way for instruction, that we must still give new praise to infuse delight, and new admonition to warn dilapidation. The upright is made out by five or more heights, in which are windows, arched recesses, single, or subdivided into three compartments. The pilasters, architraves, and cornices are covered with ornamental devices, diamonded or diagonaled ; and the moiety of the grand door of entrance in the centre is full of foliage and small basso-relievos of the most exquisite sculpture. Behind this inestimable morgeau is seen the present fagade, or, to speak more in truth, the walled-up west end of the church. Malmesbury, 165 The south side of the church. We are first attracted by the partial return of the enriched work of the west front. The three first divisions on this side are in ruins. The porch is complete, which in its outer face is of simple work ; but to tell of its interior embellish- ments, the task were too infinite for the limits of these essays. Suffice to say that its second archway is composed of many columns and arches, sculptured on every part with ornaments and basso-relievos, the latter illustrative of the principal subjects in the Old and New Testament. Many of these objects are yet undisfigured ; and their merit, as specimens of our ancient sculpture, emboldens me to assert that their design, disposure, and drawing are no way inferior to the most dear-purchased and highly-adulated marbles that have yet been imported into this kingdom, either from Greece or Rome. At the interior extremity of the porch is a third archway, of less dimensions than the former, yet having still its share of rich embellishments. On each side of this interior are large basso-relievos, of many figures, peculiar in their attitudes and their several draperies. In leaving this porch, I must declare that it is one of the most capacious and nobly adorned works of the kind I have ever witnessed. Continuing on the line of the first story, we are to look at the original design of the edifice, and the pointed-arch work there inserted. The second story truly marks the Edwardian style, lofty in its uprights, charming in its proportions, and elegant in its arrangement and decorations. This part remains in its original order. To the left we next behold the sad leavings of sacrilegious dilapidation • for I cannot lay the ruinous state of the north arch of the great tower to that decay which awaits all things, as the parts untouched by the mattock, such as the columns, arches, and the facings of the walls, are as true in their perpendiculars, and as perfect in their mouldings and sweeps, as when first left by those who raised them. There are some remnants of the work of the choir hanging to the pier of the great arch here noticed. The east end of the pile presents an entire rain, yet those parts unhavocked, as observed above, are all in the best state that can be imagined. These uprights make out the interior of the west side of the south transept, the west arch of the great tower (walled up as the east end of the church before hinted), east end of the north aisle of the nave, and the residue of the exterior wall of the east cloister. The north side of the church takes in the north aspect of the great tower (a ruin in like manner as the other parts specified), and the nave, which in its construction is similar to the south side of the church, excepting that here is no porch; and within the fourth division for the windows to the first story there is a window of a magnificent turn introduced, in the style with the Edwardian work, constituting the upper story, which story is in unison with what has been done on the south side of the building. In the interior of the church, on each side, the elevation comprises 1 66 Architectural Innovation. the first story, the galleries over it, and a second story containing the windows and groins, etc. To the first story are massive single columns supporting arches of a pointed form, and in the galleries the same sort of single columns support semicircular arches. Not- withstanding we may be struck with the appearance of the pointed- arch thus combined with the Saxon design, yet the minute parts of mouldings and ornaments are all in the characteristic taste of the latter order. This one circumstance, it is to be hoped, will convince the real English antiquary that the pointed-arch manner was no purloining from Gothic or Saracenic lands, bat the casual alteration of one geometrical figure to another ; which, from its novel indication to our ancient architects, its high scientific demonstration, and its superior powers to resist weight and all collateral pressures, than what could be found in the semicircular arch, beyond a doubt duly weighed on their considerations ; and in process of time they struck out that sublime order which has for a century past been stigmatized by the name of Gothic. From the perseverance of some of the faithful advocates for the pointed manner as of English creation, the odious epithet Gothic is about to be cut off from its invidious usurpation. At the same time, they solicit their fellow-labourers in the study of antiquity to adopt some more consistent and honourable term, at once to give merit its just due, and restrain the malign attempts of those who would consign its glories to dark oblivion by a total disuse of any of its divine properties. In one of the divisions of the galleries on the south side is a small projecting enclosed seat. This ac- commodation, we may infer, was for the pious use of the abbot, after this part of the edifice was fitted up to celebrate the service in ; he having, on the removal of the choir, lost so necessary a seclusion used by him on certain religious occasions. This seat is masoned after the same manner as seen in the present west window. As the second story displays the Edwardian style, we need only remark, as on the exterior, that so proud a period of art lost nothing of its majesty by what we here behold of lofty windows and ascending groins ; light, airy, and enchanting. The church of Malmesbury (recollecting what I had premised : vol. Ixxi., p. 1 102) is, then, that place of worship which had not been cleaned out, as was reported to me, for ten years before this, my survey. The accumulation of rubbish in the aisles and pews was not only great, but offensive. The paving in the south aisle was open to the graves ; but in that division to the east in the said aisle, where the tomb and statue of King Athelstan, the founder and patron of the church and town is set up, was all kind of lumber, and a fire-engine. In short, so much of disregard to common decency in point of cleanliness in a Protestant church I never before was obligated to bear witness to. Why do those who now fatten on the good things which the royal founder left for charitable and holy purposes so far forget Malmesbury. 167 the source from whence they spring ? Has gratitude lost its meaning at Malmesbury? Else, surely, Athelstan, thy pile and sepulchral memorials would claim something the reverse of neglect and defile- ment. I may be told the exteriors of the first stories to the south and north aisles in certain degrees have been lately new-faced at a very con- siderable expense : I allow it ; I allow, also, that the work is the best performance I have anywhere noted, when a faithful adherence was ordered to be made to the original design. But has attention been paid to the walls themselves, the fractures in the groins, and to the state of the roof? How is this to be answered? Without is given a show of repair ; and within all is inattention and decay. On the south side of the churchyard, there has been erected a small gateway after the plan of the person who so praiseworthily super- intended the partial restorations of the church ; yet, in this instance of the gateway, he has dared architectural symmetry, or the features of the ancient walls he had been working on, for he has given a circular arch to the gate, with pointed windows of the smallest dimensions, and battlements of a proportion fitting one of the largest buildings that could be constructed. The minutiae of parts are entirely in the modern way of common house-finishing. I mention this last object (in itself a paltry effort of art) to corroborate my various assertions, how adverse professional men are to follow our ancient styles of architecture with any degree of correctness, when left to their own enlightened genius to produce a new something, or to innovate on those structures which are so unfortunate as to be resigned to their discretion and fantastical improvements. Laycock Nunnery. [1802, Part II, pp. 728-730.] At some twelve or fourteen miles to the south of Malmesbury are the remains of this seclusion, consisting of the greater part of those buildings which were for the accommodation of the sisterhood and others appertaining to the service of the church. Very faint vestiges of the church are to be discerned. These particulars will be spoken of in due order. A.s this nunnery was converted soon after the suppression into a residence far other than for religious uses, of course many alterations were made in its walls agreeable to the change it had undergone ; and in several instances we see decorations stuck about in the styles of architecture prevailing in the reigns of Elizabeth, James, and Charles I. These innovations are trifling when we come to view what has been effected both in the internal as well as the external parts of the pile, by the larding on of those devices which mark the first dawnings of the fantastic order of architecture, stolen in among us some fifty or sixty years back i68 Architectural Innovation. through the connivance of one Batty Langley* ; since which time it has been crawling over many parts of the kingdom, sometimes rearing up its brazen head, and then sinking into darkness ; then issuing forth again, and then again lost in contempt and disuse. In our day this order has revived once more, stretching out its bloated neck to that extreme height of architectural innovation, and to that enormous bulk of defiance to Antiquity, that we who are her champions trembling wait for the direful event that bids her live or die, us to triumph or fall and be no more. Preparatory to our near approach to the nunnery a simple (other- wise rude) cross attracts our sight. Well, next the outbuildings of granaries, other storehouses, and the first gate of entrance into the confines, are before us. Here I took a considerable time to indulge my "mind's eye" in composing an historical scene for some future drawing. A fair devotee appears, attended by her relatives ; they knock at the ring ; the huge gates open, and close on her who never shall return. My sketch finished, I proceeded, but took the modern way towards the habitations. On my left I recognised an early friend ; two Corinthian columns with their ordonnance, supporting a sphinx. (Ye wot of this). A modern gateway (raised some fifty or sixty years ago) next conducts us to the west front, or present entrance to the mansion. In no instance did I ever note the burlesque show its motley garb more ridiculously than on this gate, which consists of a pointed archway arrayed over with the French papier-mache style of pilasters, architraves, foliage, urns, and I know not what. The greater part of the west front of the mansion has been altered and patched out (of late years) on the villa plan, giving double flights of steps, Chinese doors and windows, and all the rest of such frippery. Whether this improvement gave pattern to fit up the orchestra, boxes, etc., at Vauxhall, or Vauxhall showed this structure what it was to be fantastical, depraved taste alone can unravel. On the north side of this mansion is a large court, two sides of which show many ancient offices. The south side of the mansion is the filling-in of the north wall of the north aisle of the church, as is evident from the lines of windows, groins, their springers, etc. On the height of this wall is run a gallery, in the Inigo Jones manner (much of this sort of work appears in many parts of the pile). This particular would, if common-sense did not, convince to the contrary, what an improbable and pitiful tale is taken up here, about a nun jumping from this gallery into the arms of her lover. And for grave personages to scribble down by retail this contemptible endeavour to scandalize former times! The east side of the mansion may be properly called the " gutted " side of an edifice ; for the vestry, chapter-house, and other distinguished arrangements belonging to the church, are laid open to view ; wind, rain and the * See his " Gothic Architecture Improved." Lay cock Nunnery. 169 feathered tribe, have their occasional entrance at will \ and summer retreats, green-houses, and fuel-houses are their present appropriation. This is my twentieth sketch ; the others are from views taken in every situation, the ornaments, decorations, etc. So much of the grand, the elegant and what antiquaries are constantly in search of, the uncommon, in regard to the disposure of the allotments for this nunnery's accommodation, highly disposed me to bestow so much of my labour here. I entered from the large court into the great hall; it is attached to the north side of the cloisters. (These cloisters are, as it were, the interior or principal arrangement of the seclusion, round which the other buildings are raised.) This hall is capacious, with its characteristic finish over- head of open-worked timbers and so forth (Westminster-Hall-like ): its space is entirely built up into modern passages, staircases, servants' rooms, etc. These encumbrances, however, do not entirely hide from sight many of the corbels, arches, timbers, and other of the hall's peculiarities. On the east side of the cloisters are the vestry and chapter-house as aforesaid ; over them are long chambers or galleries; and above these latter arrangements the dormitory is erected — a place airy, commodious, and most healthful. On the two sides of its line are the cells for peaceful repose, with a bower window to each, perfectly fitting the sisterhood which once occupied this noble monastery. Let me whisper in the ear of the reverend tourist, pray- ing him to recollect that in this dormitory is the rummage of a large house, as fashion has changed hands for more than a century past, viz., rusty pieces of armour, velvet, Turkey-worked worsted, and stuff furniture, old chests, broken tables, legless chairs, and all the accumulation of cobwebs, mice-holes, sparrow's nests, and nests for bats and owls. Did females in ancient time lie thus accompanied ? Fie ! fie ! On the west side of the cloisters (comprising the entrance front) is a range of apartments, as the kitchen, refectory, etc. The kitchen is partly in its original order. The refectory (under which is a fine groined crypt) is metamorphosed into a modern hall bedecked with every specimen of the fantastic order when in its maddest guise. No one of the period of its decorations but Batty Langley himself could have so far forgot his rudiments from Palladio and others, or the perfection of our ancient architecture, as to have done all this ; nay, the very room he was degrading, and the many perfect objects around, as the cloisters, chapter-houses, etc., must have upbraided him for his savage taste. But architectural innovators are blind, callous, and inexorable. The design of this hall may be, then, considered as an epitome of all the professional publications by England, Italy, and France, for these 150 years past, alluding for the most part to those which come under the title of the " Grotesque." It gives a sort of architectural masquerade, where, if the doors, windows, chimney-pieces, compartments, niches, and the 170 Architectural Innovation. coved ceiling, excite our smiles, how are we to refrain from the ex- cessive risibility which overwhelms us, on seeing bustos and statues of all ages, sexes, and dimensions, dressed in fancy habits, uniting in a grand ballet composed in honour of false taste and modern decora- tion ? I deny that these statues in any degree have either that " ingenuity " or " spirit " recorded, unless folly may be understood by the one, and madness from the other. Shocked at this departure from sober science, I passed into the cloisters. It is now I am myself again. All I behold is the perfect remain of that sacred pale which once echoed to the gentle tread of the chaste society, happy in hearing no sounds but songs of prayer, in seeing no sights but heavenly symbols ; wherever they turned, all was sweet content ; wherever they rested, all was pious contemplation. The design of these cloisters is of the elaborate kind, in a medium style between the Edwardian and the Henry IV. modes of work ; they are in the best preservation, every moulding, piece of foliage, arms, or devices, true, and well to be understood. Exulting in the pleasure received from this fine work, I went on to the ancient rooms on the east side of the cloisters as before mentioned. I entered first into the room which stands to the north ; it is divided by columns into two aisles; the groins springing from them have the best proportion, and are on the best construction; the windows are cut out into arches leading to the terrace. On the side opposite to these windows is a large chimney-piece. The masonry of the parts is of the simple degree, yet grand in effect; some of the capitals have sculptures of pleasing foliage. In this room is a large oblong basin, 11 feet 2 inches by 4 feet 3 inches, and 2 feet 3 inches in height, cut out of one stone. Conjecture tells many tales about this relic. May I presume also ? I suppose it was made use of as a bath by the females of the nunnery. I next entered into the chapter-house ; the windows are cut out into open arches ; the columns dividing the space into two aisles, and supporting the groins, are clustered ; these columns and groins have an increase of mould- ings, and the capitals belonging to them are more enriched than those in the preceding room. Here remains a plain tomb, and a pavement ditto. The third room (continuing the line) is the vestry ; the work is still higher charged than what I found in the two rooms already described. The mouldings are more profuse, as are the ornaments to the capitals of the columns dividing this room, like the others, into two aisles. Among these ornaments are many bustos of noble and royal personages. The windows are cut out, as of the rest. On one side is a large arched recess in the wall ; on the opposite side, bearing against the north remnant of the church, is a doorway, and two holy-water niches. There are many paintings, in the architraves and groins, of foliage, stars, and other forms. These paintings have been retouched, and the whole of the masonry and sculpture in these Charleton Church. 171 three rooms repaired with the utmost care and attention of late years, but by whom, or when, I could not receive any satisfactory account. The styles manifested in these rooms are of the early pointed-arch manner, and have as many pretensions to be called " florid " as the work of those buildings assigned to the reigns of Henry VI. and VIL, they being by some (who have little or no professional experience in such affairs) supposed to excel the magnificence of the former in the most superabundant degree. Lanthony Abbey. In addition to this essay, let me unfold to those who have an interest in our antiquities the following circumstance, which was communicated to me at a friend's house where I had been this day to look over a curious missal. He declared that he had just heard it as a certain fact, that the fine west front of Lanthony Abbey, one of the most interesting remains in the kingdom, had in great part been destroyed. Dear friends, turn to vol. lxxi., p. 1169. [Ante, p. 148.] Did I augur without just cause? I wish, indeed, this information was no more than a visionary ill, to play awhile on the enthusiastic phantasy of one like me, in punishment of such a weakness. Charleton Church, near Malmesbury, [1802, Part ff, pp. 825-827.] is an exceeding small edifice, and has many decorations worthy observation, particularly the columns and arches dividing the church into two aisles ; they possess much elegance. The font likewise is to be noted from the sportive diversity and semicircular and hexagonal lines seen in its plan, etc. Architectural innovation in this church may be said to be a plague unknown, as every part remains nearly in its pristine order ; not one receptacle for filth or rubbish to be met with, the utmost neatness prevailed, and devotion, as of old times, had nothing unseemly or unhallowed to draw attention from the song of praise. We are not always used to speak thus of our religious piles, I think. Tetbury. It has been a custom, and I believe it is not yet done away, with professional men, to cry out "anything is Gothic" (that is, our ancient styles of architecture) ; and certainly nothing can be more conducive towards fulfilling this " vulgar error," or give greater energy to the dominion of the fantastic order, than the general appearance of the new building called the church of this town. The architect in this his design convinces us, along with the many who have publicly described its walls, that he had King's College Chapel, Cambridge, in his eye ; but how has he departed from the refined original ? or, to speak more the language of our amateur illustrators, how has he improved upon its imperfect features ? King's College 172 Architectural Innovation. Chapel we define to be one entire room, with doors and windows on each side and at each end ; between the windows columns at a certain height support the groins, which compose the finish overhead ; and on the exterior of the structure, north and south, are a succession of small chapels intended as sepulchral repositories for great and illus- trious characters. Now let us compare Tetbury's present ecclesi- astical arrangement (as triumphant over the late church which bore its name). We find the plan laid down into three aisles, a large one in the centre, and a smaller one on each side ; clustered columns divide these aisles, and from their capitals spring the several groinings. That scientific charm pervading our ancient religious buildings, in all situations and in all directions, manifested in every decoration and in every enrichment, the incomprehensible Three in One, is in no instance more impressively brought forward to our sight than in the disposure of the three aisles of a church ; Westminster Abbey, for instance, as at A, their proportions governed by a given pointed arch within a triangle as circumscribing the exterior of their walls. Tetbury, in the first instance, swerving from the single aisle of King's College Chapel, has adopted three aisles ; as at B. An oblong boundary gives their section. Certainly by this mode there is a reform, but from what ? Why, perfect geometrical figure, profound reason, and sound judgment. We see the side-aisles with the regular pointed arch, while the centre one, to keep pace in height with the others, is spun out to such an extreme flatness of sweep that surely nothing but prepossessions in favour of the fantastic order could have bent the architect's mind from the rules of true taste, by ancient example. Bursting from one established maxim, we must not be surprised at seeing the enlightened professionalist converting the uses of his exterior chapels, by copy from King's College Chapel, into long avenues or passages for the A Tetbtiry. 173 convenience of getting into the pews within the church. Tetbury's doorways, cornices, battlements, are poor and mean in their lines, while in the buttresses and window-tracery, particularly this latter enrichment, attempts are made to render them monstrous elaborate, in a redundancy of wire-drawn mouldings without end or meaning. King's College Chapel, in its exterior decorations, possesses a regular combination of objects, no one trenching by its obtrusiveness on the other's right in chaste appropriation and fine effect. The interior of this exalted chapel increases as in order due, by each enrichment still bearing additional lustre, carried on to that degree of just excess, which our imagination (from view of what had already met our sight without the chapel) had taught us to expect ; we are gratified beyond our wishes, and, to crown this felicity of art, we find no disorganized parts to reduce our admiration from that point to which it had been elevated. This architectural criterion will scarce allow us to make farther comparisons ; yet, as our subject must be set forth, however unpleasant the task, we shall pursue the thread of our narration. Tetbury's interior, then, has columns without ornaments, or the proper turns to constitute capitals; groins without the least pre- tensions to tracery or any devices, and compartments on each side of the building under the windows drawn out with a few mouldings only, of size so enormous that reference to example would be alto- gether vain and useless. At the western extremity of the church we see a gallery, placed against a " dead wall," decorated after the manner of the fantastic order. In the middle of the central aisle the pulpit is set up (modern usage), and before it, to partake of the new disposure of things, the font meets the eye ; they both are strongly shaped after the style of the said fantastic order. I must confess that I can give but a very imperfect account Of the altar, as being so very inconsiderable in formation as barely to attract the least notice ; a common table and a few plain panels behind, with rails before it, being as much or more than comes to its share of appropriation. As for the detail of mouldings, and what small number of ornaments have their place on the walls, they are entirely distinct from our ancient architecture ; a mere collection of modern common house plinths, dados, architraves, cornices and foliage, both in the Chinese and fantastic filigree mode of carving, more fit for the trim of a cheese-cake house than to be used in the reconstruction of this, so spacious an edifice, as the dimensions of its lines sufficiently demonstrate. My opinion of the merits of this new church is given, not from memory, or a few trifling memoranda, but from those sure guides, in a business of this nature, in addition to the sentiments imbibed at the time of survey, sketches taken of the several particulars above described. Here, then, is no deception ; therefore, from such docu- ments, and from those presumptions which a man assumes who speaks 174 Architectural Innovation. within the pale of his own profession, I inquire upon what grounds, knowledge or capability do some writers announce that the present church at Tetbury is a beautiful edifice of the first taste, and com- posed after the finest examples of our ancient edifices by imitations the most chaste and the most correct ? The tower and spire of the church are the remnants of the original building. Cirencester Church. Had the several sums of money expended in the employ of tearing out, from the various windows of this edifice, the religious and his- torical paintings, for the unmeaning purpose of cramming them all into the west and east great windows, been applied to the necessary repair of the front of the superb south porch, what celebrity would have attended the names of those who might have brought about so desirable an end ! A hasty stare at a jumble of figures, arms, etc., which so lately illustrated their original and appropriate situations, and now bound in the limits of two windows, will never make amends to, or satisfy the eager attention of, the curious traveller for the loss of the aforesaid porch, which, from its dangerous state, so fearfully indicates a speedy downfall. The Church at Bibury. [1802, Part II, pp. 924-928.J I should not have noticed this edifice but for the neatness shown in every part, particularly the churchyard (an instance rarely to be met with), and for a very perfect Saxon doorway on the north side, well meriting the attention of the curious. Burford. I do not know a town in this kingdom that has so well escaped the general sweep of alteration, and where so many ancient stone buildings (mansions) are to be found, as at this place. Some of them have their fronts highly enriched ; which, upon mature deliber- ation, well convinces me, and I presume must others, that all splen- dour was not confined to castellated and religious structures (as many tourists, whether antiquaries or otherwise, maintain was the case, and that the habitations of the merchant and trader, etc., were mere holes and cabins) ; but that the same desire to render inferior orders of buildings bear a tendency towards the splendid, manifested itself over every part of the land, from the cathedral to the small-planned parish church ; from the palace to the narrowed confine of an artisan in some city or hamlet. The church is on a magnificent scale ; and the south porch is one of the most beautiful works of the kind any- where to be met with. Its extreme richness of parts is governed by Oxford. 175 that happy taste wherein no one part is in an unappropriate opposi- tion to the other, as monstrosity to littleness, fantastical improvement to ridiculous imitation, such as lard over the erections of our moderns, when run up in a way so as to stare Antiquity in the face, as who should say, " Our glories are equal to thine !" Oxford. My purpose is now to particularize the architectural innovations that have been made on the exteriors of the several churches and colleges within these 150 years; whereby those who may not be thoroughly versed in architectural styles and their dates may be made sensible how and when many of the heterogeneous objects were stuck over their various fronts. That they render such magnificent edifices ridiculous and contemptible at those particular lines where they are so imposed, surely none will deny. How they have usurped such situations is one question ; and how they are permitted still to hold their order is another. It is perhaps from the want of genius or taste in the first instance, and a want of sensibility and due respect to founders' names in the latter. However, we are prepared to do our office, and therefore continue our survey. The titles of the innovatory subjects will be distinguished by being printed in italics. St. Mary's Church. — The most remarkable innovation is the grotesque porch, set up against the original one on the south side of the building (some of its original beautiful groinwork still appearing) in the reign of Charles I. We except the statues of the Virgin and the Infant Jesus from our censure, as appropriate to be introduced, being so illustrative of the designation of the building. However, the act proved in some measure fatal to him who placed them there. It will admit of some doubt, whether the destruction of the original porch will subject the author of it to be brought in to swell Sir Henry Spelman's " History and Fate of Sacrilege." All Saints' Church appears to have been erected about a century back, with a material new in our architectural history — Portland stone, or a species of the same nature. Hence we cannot but observe the scarifying faces of the whole building — a circumstance barely seen in our remote buildings, many of which stand as far back in their foundations as the time of our Saxon ancestors j presenting in many instances the exterior walls as smooth on their surfaces as when at first masoned. It is a fact that the quality of the stone now in use for our public buildings is of a perishable nature, liable to continual decay; and the particles from 6 to 12 inches fly out from the body of the squared courses, in all situations and in all directions, their superficies likewise peeling off, as though having suffered from fire, or any other inflammable cause. I leave it to the Architectural Innovation. impartial decision of my readers to declare if they ever saw one of the exteriors of our ancient buildings bear so lamentable an appear- ance as that on which we are now descanting. Though present custom has established Portland stone as the grand specific whereby to construct edifices, yet, as we are presuming to revive our ancient styles, why not revive the use of those freestones which com- posed the walls distinguishing such grand and durable examples of architectural skill ? All Souls' College south front has modern sash and garret windows introduced. Pass through an Ionic colonnade into the second court, on the west side of which is a Doric colonnade. On the south side of the hall is an improved or fantastic doorway : on the north side of the chapel a ditto doorway. Nezv College. — The first court shows, by its battlements, the original walls, though the windows in form and dressings tell out the mode of 100 years past. In the grand court of the chapel, the square- fashioned windows of Henry VIII. 's day are all besashed in the modern way, with Venetian blinds, and all that. The doorway under the chapel, as well as those to the several lodgings, are pitiful imita- tions of our ancient architecture. Magdalen College. — Not yet improved. The futile erections set up on the eastern side of the college show the despicable littleness of the fantastic order. They are mere appendages, of but common use, and, with the line of chambers in the north distance of the confines and the gate of entrance into the college, are all, we fervently hope, the only architectural contaminations so noble an edifice will ever endure. Jesus College. — The east facade, where entrance is had, is entirely altered in the modern house-finishing way. The east window of the chapel remains pure. Entrances on south side, and the west side of the said chapel, have facings of the fantastic order. Batty Langley, no doubt, was the architect. — Second court. Some modern sash windows, one or two ditto doorways, and some interstices by way of battlements, have been here introduced. lincoln College. — Two or three modern sash windows put in on the west facade. In the court the hall has modern sash and garret windows. Oriel College does not bear any particular marks of architectural change. Corpus Christi College. — Not any thing by way of improvement oc- curs, except some late dialed sort of columns and arches, etc., reared up by way of an apology for a cloister. Merton College. — Additions have been made about the hall in the first court, the decorations of which are far from being despicable. We see, in looking round, many modern garret windows. —Second court. A faficiful facade, or frontispiece, has been introduced, com- Oxford. 1 77 prising a whimsical association of the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian orders, with a sprinkling here and there of compartments in our ancient styles ; in short, one of those intermezzos which tell the architecture of Elizabeth's reign. University College. — In the first court, work is going on, intended as improvements on the original parts ; which will prove an unac countable mixture of the old massive lines, and the new wire-drawn detail of mouldings, etc. The second porch has had many vile inter- polations crammed on the original beautiful groins. — Second court. Its north side has received an unassimilating facade, or decorated wall. St. John's College. — Sash windows over the west entrance. Every other surrounding feature remains in order. — First court. Many modern sash windows, and two scroll-headed doorways, of the mode of some sixty years past, make up the changes here. — Second court ; on the side of which is introduced a frontispiece of two orders, the Doric and the Ionic. In a niche is a statue of one of the Henrys. The rest of this side of the court still presents many of its original characters. A Doric colonnade has also a share on this side to make up the general view. On the east side of the said court much of the above sort of display is repeated, and the statue of Charles L is here set up, evincing that these improvements were done in his reign. On the east front of this college next the garden is another melange of Charles I.'s architecture, and among their discordant dress- ings we find some late bow windows of the fantastic order. Brazen-nose College. — Two modern sash windows over the east entrance, and many others of the like sort in the first court. In the second court, a good reparation of a tower, sash windows ; and an Ionic entrance to the chapel, with a sort of cloister in the same style. The west window and the whole of this end of the chapel have been repaired, but in a doubtful style ; the buttresses have had set on their tops Corinthian capitals, supporting an entablature in the same taste. Vases also are placed on the parapets which run over this oddly-introduced Corinthian olio. Trinity College. — The hall and the east side of the first court original; the rest of the buildings, as the chapel, chambers, etc., entirely modern. The Schools. — East side of the court, a frontispiece of Elizabeth's and James I.'s time, with the several ordinances of the five orders ; these are larded over the primitive design of the edifice ; notwith- standing which depravity of introduction, we here and there find much of the original enrichments peeping out from among these said patchings-on. Baliol College. — East and part of the south side of the court sprinkled over with some whimseys in the Doric block-manner, with modern sash and garret windows, etc. VOL. X. 12 1 7 8 A rchitectural Innovation. Exeter College. — The first entrance is now in the Ionic manner ; the porch, or saloon, in the like mode. The entrance to the hall in the court is of the Doric order. On the east side of this court adjoining the chapel appear some new imitations after our ancient styles, well selected indeed in their masses ; but the minute parts show too plain the slovenly adherence that professionalists pay to those ancient specimens to which, it may be inferred, they had received direct orders strictly to attend. Christ Church College. — It might have been thought, when the balustrade running round the entire pile, masoned about some eighty or ninety years past, was taken down as entirely decayed, appropriate battlements would have been restored. Not so. These egregious finishings have been reworked and reinstated in their former usurped order. In the great court is to be found one insipid new fantastic doorway ; the rest of such entrances are of the common house cast. We can never suppose the person who has lately been superintend- ing the works done in the great porch of the hall had any concern in the aforesaid repair, as in the latter respect some of the new em- bellishments seem tolerable copies from the old parts remaining. Yet when it is considered that Wolsey's porch, one of the most celebrated designs of this nature to be encountered in the kingdom, or perhaps in the universe, is deprived of its appropriate arrange- ment, and one of its chiefest beauties partly hid by the new masonry shored up against it, our ready praise for the least cause that gives credit to a faithful copy of our old masters is entirely withheld, and our just reprehension must supersede every other consideration, to protect the cause of antiquity. Thus I enter on the merits of the question. The boundary line of this hall is a square, in the centre of which rises a cluster of columns to a due height ; when, from their capitals, the groins full of the most elaborate tracery emerge into circular directions, and descend again as it were to corbels, at the four angles and other parts of the walls. A grand flight of steps, ascending by the left (or south) side of the porch, lead on to the upper demi-porch, passing directly into the hall. It was the delight of all travellers to view this porch. Antiquaries dwelt with raptures on its perfect design ; nay, those very architects, who for a century past have been in open hostility to all our national structures, still yielded unconditionally to this triumphant specimen of that art against which they had so long rebelled. They acknowledged it to be the excellence of all scientific labours ; nay, more, they almost forgot their unnatural predilections for foreign architecture, and were on the point of returning to that professional obedience to which they owed all their duty. Their very knees were bent to hail the mighty principles woven round the construction of our religious piles. But, alas ! Fate had decreed otherwise, and once more turned them into those habits which it is but too obvious they will never relin- Oxford. 179 quish. Thus each hand was raised in admiration of this porch, as comprehending every architectural charm, all convenience, and each picturesque effect that could possibly interest the coldest heart in its protection. It is at this moment I call to remembrance the senti- ments of a late right honourable admirer of our ancient architecture on this very subject. Thus I heard him exclaim : " That man who could advance it as his opinion that this porch wanted either altera- tion or improvement was a foe to true design and an irreconcilable enemy to that mode of building which immortalizes our cathedrals and other ancient structures." Notwithstanding the several evidences in favour of poor Wolsey's mortal pride, some have been found to take exceptions at its par- ticular characters by observing that its clustered columns in the centre were in the way, the enrichments too excessive, the stairs in a situation not laid down according to the rules established by Sir John Vanbrugh, Batty Langley, the Adamses and others ; the door- ways not in their proper places; and' the way to and from the kitchen, the buttery, and the hall, obstructed in a manner altogether impeding the ready connection between culinary duties and collegiate repletion. These little architectural sparrings among amateur judges passed on in heedless cavils, till one enlightened genius arose, who gave it as his firm opinion that, to render this porch complete in all its parts, and to show the strength of his knowledge as well as the strength of the groins, he proposed to take away the clustered columns in the centre, and then see, to the astonishment of the world, and to the universal admiration of his conception of this mighty thought, how long the said groins would retain their altitude without the aid of what he maintained was an unnecessary prop. This proposition was caught at with avidity, and would certainly have been adopted ; but, for some reason or other, it has been for the present laid aside. Yet, that all these wise and mature sugges- tions should not pass without some attention, we find the ancient stairs have been removed, and a modern double flight of steps set up in their stead. The ascent is to the right and left half-way, and then meeting together in one flight, admittance is gained to the landing above, just as we see done at assembly-rooms, theatres, villas, and town houses ; a common practice, under the idea of elegance and the like, and that it gives a centrical object, ever to be sought after by those who aspire to be great architects. But has this been entirely effected with regard to our porch ? No ; the cluster of columns, or " prop," supporting the groins has maliciously prevented so desirable an end. What, then, has been gained by this extrava- gant attempt ? The just ridicule of those who, while they live, re- member the former state of this improved hall with a witness. In commenting on the new detail of parts, if we say the mason was faithful to his orders as a good copyist, the carver was not so ; his i8o A rchitectural Innovation . shields, mitres, wheatsheaves, pineapples, foliage, etc., all betray his inattention to this sort of business, or his incapacity to follow the characters of that style he was employed to imitate. Allowing we have found the mason correct in certain instances in the porch, we find him tripping in the small or demiporch, entering into the hall. A new doorway to the left, in the battlements and other lines, shows the cloven foot of masonic improvement, there thrust out most glaringly. We should have specified in the above transposition of the decorations, that doors have given place to windows, and win- dows to doors ; that the hall's wooden screen of entrance has given place to a stone wall of entrance ; and — I shall proceed no further at present, recollecting that, in this my Oxford term, I only stipu- lated to enter on the description of the exterior alterations these superb edifices had undergone ; and it is not improbable I may, at a proper season, continue this sort of memoranda of the state of their interiors, not less important to be laid before the public than what has already been brought forward to their consideration. It now remains for me to ask for my largess. I work through interested motives. Here, then, is my demand — I will say request. Learned and reverend guardians of this great and royal seminary, condescend to compare this my survey with those walls over which you preside. If they are just and true, as I trust they are, you will subscribe to the motives which influenced me to the task ; you will not be displeased at attempts to draw the veil which has hid from your observations the unpleasant tract of architectural innovation, spread so wide over the honours of those patrons and founders who, while you ponder on their memories, must likewise comment on what their monuments have endured, and on those blessings handed down to your present enjoyments, first raised through their noble natures, and now continued by emulating minds no less great and generous. Basingstoke. [1802, Part II., pp. 1022-1024.] Holy-Ghost Chapel. — It is situated on an eminence at the ex- tremity of the town, overlooking the road leading to Newbury. The style of the architecture appears to be of the day of Edward IV. The design, though small, is much enriched ; and among the ornaments are many of the Roman and Grecian turn, which shows that examples of this sort had been earlier introduced among us than is generally understood. However, it is not impossible but that many of the carvings, with some shields of arms, were added in the reign of Henry VIII., in consequence of repairs or alterations then taking place. Another feature, new at this time in the method of construc- tion, is also to be met with ; that is, the walls are of brickwork, and Basingstoke. 181 faced with stone. The dimensions of the brick part i foot 9 inches, or two bricks and a half; the stone itself measuring 6 inches. As it is the received opinion of antiquaries that the use of brickwork was introduced, or revived, in the above king's reign, we may fairly date this building one of the first trials of the kind : which, though here used as a subservient material to the stonework, yet it was very soon afterwards thought of sufficient importance to compose the major part of many large and magnificent edifices, and to this day, under various textures and colours, remains the principal article in the building branch in most parts of the kingdom. Holy-Ghost Chapel, in its plan, gives one aisle, with three windows at the eastern end, and four windows on the south side. The north side is wholly destroyed. At the west end of the south wall is an hexangular tower. The elevation of the exterior of the south side has, on the piers between the windows, long narrow pedestals, on which rise niches. These decorations take their place also at the angles of the tower. If we look for complete proofs of delicate workmanship, either in carving or masonry, it is to be met with here. Most certain it is, so much of that which we call worthy of notice awaits the curious on this chapel, that it should never be passed by without a certain degree of attention bestowed on it. Its merit has made us descant thus much in its behalf. To think the inhabitants of this town will be interested from our recommendation to pay due respect for its ruins, would be as idle a supposition as to depend on the promises of a surveyor who has told his employer, after having received orders to erect a new mansion by selections from such and such ancient piles, that his copies shall be faithfully made, and his work so put out of hand as to be the very counterpart of that model on which his patron had set his admiration — they, these professional prototypes, so adore our ancient pointed styles of architecture! Some few feet more to the westward of this chapel is an erection which once, no doubt, was the body of that church to which the chapel was attached, constituting the chancel or choir. The masonry is very simple, and of a much older date than the pleasing design we have been describing as above. A sort of retrograde impulse now induced me to turn from my western direction, Salisbury at the distant point. It may be asked, For what reason? In truth, my "nerves" were not sufficiently strong at this time to adventure on so arduous a trial " on my peace of mind." I rather thought that if I went step by step from one rage of innovation to another I might imbibe fire by fire, to instil into my mind that due essence of recital which it appears so celebrated a place as Sarurn now demands. 182 Architectural Innovation. Odiham. I searched in vain here for the vestiges of that palace which once made the name of Odiham rank in the minds of men as of high renown. Each bulwark, gate, and tower is now no more. Odiham, thy name also fades in recollection ; remote as is thy situation, so in memory is all thy departed pomp — an empty marvel, signifying nothing. Barren is that soil which brings forth nought either good or bad. Hence it is incumbent on me to notice (as it were aside), that at the angles of a mansion (some hundred years old) in the town, a remnant of a larger pile, are wooden figures as large as life, serving as caryatides. I shall not debase my theme by distinguishing them under any style of architecture : notwithstanding the Pans and Priapuses of the heathen school may have been the appropriate model when they were set up. Men of Odiham, where are your blushes ? Are they buried with the remnants of your royal walls, which piece by piece within these late years you have torn down and trodden under foot ? Passing from this place, a mile the distance, I came to Warm- borough. Here, by chance, I saw a prodigious octangular tower or keep. The walls and windows had their heads circular ; some chimney openings showed likewise the same turns. As the entire facing-stones of the work were gone, and the rubble, or interior of the wall itself, the only portions left to judge of dates or styles, we must waive all conclusions on the subject ; suffice it that it bore the marks of distant ages on its lines, and did not fail to give that effect which such objects usually produce. That watery grave to modern infatuation, canal-cutting, has drawn its ruinous course close by the fosse of the above ancient work. Two of the men engaged in the digging part of the undertaking one night made up their rest within the castle. We will call it so for distinction, as I was given to understand on the spot that King John here had held his court. (This king, who, by tradition, had as many palaces in his king- dom as villages, little thought, while living, how much futurity would honour him thus by mention of his architectural patron- age.) These two sleepers, then, awaking in a terrible fright, saw, as they maintained by their Bible oaths (and ale-house oaths), their tears witnessing for them also, there and then, the very person of King John himself ; described his features and dress, and repeated the exact words which he then delivered to them, as follows : " Good men and true, hear, mark, and remember. Haste, and tell your masters, mistresses, and townsfolk, as they have despoiled and overthrown my palaces here and at Odiham, and have almost forgot my very name, your two towns shall further dwindle, waste, and pine; and this new stream, smuggled from out my pleasant Stour, shall soon become as useless and dry as are the pockets of the Farnham. 183 subscribers and encouragers to such a mad undertaking." "Here," cried my guide and informant, his terror renewing from his tale thus told, so full of supernatural eloquence and information, " here is the spot where the two men lay ; and here is the stone whereon the king stood," pointing at the same time to each ominous particular : then, casting his eyes on me, he saw me pointing in a circuitous direction to the two towns, the castle, and the stagnant trench before our feet ! Farnham. [1802, Part II, pp. 1113-1116.] The Castle. — The remains are still considerable, and many of the walls appear in their primaeval state. Those alterations which have taken place on the principal range of apartments (such as casing the walls, and putting modern doorways, windows, etc.) appear as done in Charles II. 's reign. As such it is foreign to our purpose to par ticularize them at this time. Our survey leads us to note that th t fosse still surrounds the major part of the outworks, which bear on our sight, and are extremely romantic. The great gateway of entrance has retained some of its characters, the rest being lost in the new dressings and plasterers' work. The entrance tower, to the castle- ward itself, is of that mode of brickwork brought into use in Edward IV/s reign. It certainly adds much effect to this front of the edifice. Passing through this tower (leaving on our right the great hall, and the communications to the state-rooms, chapel, etc., as having little, in their present modern dress, to excite the attention of an antiquary), we enter into the great court, where, casting the eye directly in the centre of our course, the keep of noble aspect mounts before us. All prepossession in favour of antiquity apart, surely there is not one visitant but must feel something more than a bare satis- faction in the view of this scene ; an inbred conviction of the force of simple grandeur must awaken his utmost admiration. That this affection is not hyperbolically brought forward is most certain, as it has had sway over the minds of some men, or we should not now have occasion to ruminate thus. The ascent to the keep is truly impressive. Entering within the doorway of massive and plain masonry, our steps are still continued upward through a lengthened avenue, whose walls have several arches and recesses to diversify the pass. When arriving at the summit a second doorway brings us into the area of the keep. Here is little more than the exterior wall of the work to recompense the labour of gaining so vast a height ; however, in the descent, our notice is a second time entertained with the view of the several architectural peculiars appertaining to the avenue, evincing how well they are wrought, and how well they have endured. On the east side of the great court of the castle, in the basement story, is an avenue leading down to the spot where once 184 Architectural Innovation. stood the sallyport. Not much of the way is passable, as at some 20 or 30 feet the descent has been walled up. Even in this dark- ened place there is some excellent arch-work, with architraves of many mouldings. On the south side of the great court are two or three Saxon columns " supporting " pointed arches. Within the building the other side of these columns and arches is seen ; above them is a plain, pointed arched vault : some niches and recesses appear in the walls. This remnant is of much import, as presenting a good specimen of the original magnificence of the interior of this castellated mansion. Ludlams Cave. In my walk from Farnham to Waverley Abbey, before I had pro- ceeded the three miles which mark their distance from each other, I stopped to behold that natural curiosity, Ludlam's Cave. It shows a large kind of arched opening in the perpendicular side of a ridge of rocks. Within its concavity, both on the sides and overhead, all the intelligible parts appear as the united and sportive efforts of nature and of art. At the distance of about 20 or 30 feet the cave rapidly declines in height to not more than 3 feet, its width diminish- ing also to 5 or 6 feet. The eye, in tracing round this wild and dreary retreat, hunts out many strange figures of imaginary beings and things. Several stone seats invite repose ; a gentle rill, issuing from out the inmost recesses of the rock, winds along a masoned groove cut in the centre of the ground. Waverley Abbey. This monastic seclusion is but little known, and barely ever mentioned, owing, no doubt, to its remote situation, or to the indifference shown by possessors in regard to their entering into the concerns of antiquity. So it is that, previous to the present visit, I had never seen any drawings made from the ruins, or heard one antiquary tells of its remains. Chance in a manner, more than from information, conducted me hither. Much gratification fell to my share, though not unconnected with some mortifications, as in the sequel. On a general survey I found this abbey not much other than detached ranges of ruined walls, yet not so dilapidated but that I could ascertain the principal arrangements. The site of the cloisters is discernible ; they are on the south side of the nave of the church, the wall of which nave, in small portions, gives the line very exact. At the south-west angle of the cloisters is a building rather in a perfect state. This, I presume, was the dormitory. The basement story, or crypt, belonging to it is the part best preserved, and exhibits Waver ley Abbey. 185 a double aisle, with windows, columns and groins of a superior taste. We, however, regret the disregarded state of the northern end, which, from some caprice or other, has been thrown open to afford what is termed a " prospect f a cruel stroke indeed, and aimed against the entire extermination of this most complete part of the whole remains. It is true I have taken sketches of its design, which with some may be held sufficient, as it is become the humour with many antiquaries to be quite passive as to the destruction of a piece of antiquity so long as a sketch has been taken from it, though of the slightest kind ; they preferring thus a " shadow " to the substance — a few indefinite strokes given by a pencil or a pen to the ancient and historical object itself, whose features convey into our bosoms all that " enthusiasm " only known to those who can despise the ridicule endeavoured to be cast on them for such their envied enjoyments. Continuing on with a wall running parallel to the west front of the last-mentioned work, we find an erection bearing evident signs of having been the refectory, its west front entire. Having thus par- ticularized the remnants of the once domesticated part of the abbey, we come to the site of the church. At the west end the right side of the door of entrance is visible ; the south wall of the nave, as before cited, is to be made out, but the northern wall, saving a few feet to the east, is wholly gone. The walls marking the transepts and the great tower between them show many considerable portions. The choir likewise carries on the traces of side and east walls. At the west entrance of the church, and at the beginning of the choir, are sepulchral stones and a stone coffin. At the south side of the south transept are the walls of the chapter-house, to which is attached a semicircular-headed avenue. Thus much for the church and its attendant buildings. It is to be understood that, except the crypt of the dormitory and the avenue, the other parts of the pile are no more than remnant walls, despoiled of all their mouldings and other characteristics. Despoiled did I say ? Yes. Two centuries have afforded opportunities enough for the exercise. What the date is when the last recreation of this sort took place I am uncertain ; however, a newly-erected mansion just above, looking so neat, so trim, may have derived some of its stone materials worked over again into flutes, husks and paterae, from this religious quarry. . . . At my leaving Waverley, the present owner (a new inhabitant) did me the honour of a visit ; went with me over the ruins, listened with the utmost condescension to my detail of each curious particular, and when we were in the crypt of the dormitory vied with me in commendation of its intrinsic worth ; but how short a date is unison of sentiment when a discordant sense breaks in upon discussion ! From an unfortunate and perverse animosity which I bear against i86 Architectural Innovation. the cultivation of ivy in certain places, I could not refrain from observing how much it militated against the durability of the walls wherein we then stood ; I advised, with the most earnest entreaty, the taking away the greater part of thus vegetation, not only to rescue the walls from ruin, but to restore to sight those several decorations hidden by it. " Sir," answered my accompanier, "I value my ivy more than this my ancient building, and had rather behold this luxuriant state of nature's beauteous foliage than all those archi- tectural features which you seem to hold as possessing the greater charm. So, good sir, a pleasant evening to you." Convinced at this time of a rebuke -so strictly just and unanswerable, I, rather abashed, took my leave, being fully sensible I was quite repre- y hensible, and that my sentiments were without either point or reference ; so on I went, reproved, not justified. Midhurst, Sussex. [1802, Part II., pp. 1 197, 1 198.] Cowdry House. — Twenty-eight years have elapsed since I first visited this ancient mansion, then eminent for a long race of illustri- ous possessors ; rich in every species of adornment, both of the taste of the age of its construction and of the fashions of modern times. I remember well the noble gate of entrance, its elevated towers ; and when I entered into the great court, noted the lodgings on either hand, the great hall before me, particularized each turret, battlement, window, and doorway. In the porch of the hall I found groins sweetly turned, and charged with delicate tracery. Passing into the interior of the edifice, the hall displayed, as of yore, the smoking board, and on the walls were hung the trophies of the chase. The parlour exhibited the celebrated paintings of the exploits of our eighth Henry, even as fresh as when first placed there in his day. The chapel told each original arrangement, although bearing a show, in point of carvings, gildings, and religious dresses, to the handiwork of modern times. Through every chamber, closet, bower, I took my admiring way, still some varied subject, either of sculpture or painting, bearing on my notice. How much of the line of ancestry was there in preservation ! The masters of the imitative art had done their utmost to perpetuate the memory of each renowned name there put forth for just emulation. With me a hope remained that I might also at some future period con- tribute my mite in handing down to futurity the " shadows " of objects pre-eminent and glorious, even the ancient structures of this land. . . . The whole of the walls, except the range on the north side of the court, are in tolerable order ; the roofs, ceilings, floors, and all kind of timber works, with the glazing to the windows entirely gone. The \ Midhurst, Sussex. 187 range where sjtands the gate of entrance has suffered the least. The porch of the hall presents still its curious groins, though much scorched. In this place were two of the remaining carved stags that had decorated the hall ; which hall, with regard to its stone and other work forming its shell, has been but little damaged. Such, likewise, is the condition of the parlour. Here I could discern some of the paintings on the walls, though in small and detached particles. In the chapel (I beg the protection of friends against the censurers and vilifiers of ancient customs for the recital) I found the altar, and its several embellishments of the table, figures of saints and other subjects, according to ancient religious usage, had not sustained the least harm. The grand staircase, excepting the flight of steps, has not received much detriment. Noticing thus some of the most prominent parts of the mansion, the architecture of which gave the Tudor era, I may remark that whenever a legal inheritor takes pos- session of Cowdry, I think it very possible that the whole of the buildings are capable of being restored, with due attention, so as to realize in some measure its pristine appearance. This mansion, was, with regard to design and arrangement of offices, chambers, etc., one of the most complete specimens of the residence of our ancient nobility, and the least altered, improved, or otherwise, that can be sought out in the kingdom. Chichester. [1803, Part I., pp. 22-25.] "~" My first item taken was the prodigious remnants of the city walls, standing to the north ; they form the promenade for the good people here. The Market Cross. — A kind of rivalry between two great names in the neighbourhood prevailing, as who should endeavour most to gain the good opinions of the many, this large and magnificent cross has fared the better for it. The name of the noble repairer is rendered conspicuous on one of the fronts to gratitude and commendation. May the like exalted care be ever continued ! for should it prove neglectful or be lost, soon would start up those men, who ready wait in official ambush to doom this cross to a premature downfall ; these subalterns in architectural innovations whispering on all hands, " This cross is a nuisance, blocking up the centre of four streets ; we will vote it to be taken down." I reply to such insinuators, "Why do you advance on with your hovelled dwellings so near this transcendent object, one of your city's glories ? Must such a treasure fall because your souls cannot know a higher elevation than the level of plebeian conception ?" The plan of the cross is an octagon ; eight arches enter within the lines, where in the centre is a large column "supporting" groins, i88 A rchitectu ral Innovation . which groins have their counter rise from smaller columns at the several angles. The exterior of the arches is surrounded with rich compartments ; and the finials above their points support rich niches. The eight intervening buttresses finish in the like manner with corresponding niches. At the back, and near the top of these buttresses, spring as many flying arched supports, to bear up an elegant turret, which, as a centrical object, crowns the whole work. The columns, springings of the arches, and their spandrils, niches, and parapets, are embellished with their appropriate ornaments, shields of arms, etc. As the work of the cross compels me thus to enlarge on its merits, it glads me also to be a happy witness of the due care that has been bestowed on it. The innovations made I must not censure, as they in no material sense interfere with the general outline of the performance ; one being of the utmost use to regulate the townspeople's affairs, and the other to keep alive their sentiments of loyalty — a large clock, and a fine bust of Charles I. The Cathedral ; the close has several gateways, but their upper parts have been converted into habitations for the lower order of people ; of course their original finishings are obliterated. This is to be regretted — as well as to see the north side of this close defiled by hovels filled with the lowest and most profligate part of the community, while on the southern side stand the bishop's palace, deanery, and other buildings occupied by the clergy. How these two opposite degrees of people can accord in situations so neighbourly seated I cannot possibly divine. At the north-west angle of the close is a large and lofty square tower, terminating in an octangular finish, which work is supported by four turrets and flying buttresses, emerging from the four angles of the tower. This design is extremely simple ; yet, from the vast dimensions and symmetry of parts, much consequence is derived thereby. This cathedral is said to be in miniature what Salisbury's fane gives in the large. I cannot acquiesce in this. Chichester's religious walls show the constructures of divers periods ; Salisbury, that of one entire and uniform mode (meaning prior to the late alteration). In the edifice before us are many remarkable characters peculiar to itself, equally curious and desirable to behold ; and amongst the internal parts are to be seen semicircular or Saxon arches, with their several details, serving to prove the existence of this church prior to Salisbury's pile. A circumstance highly to the credit of the architect who raised up the spire here must be brought into general notice, the interior of which is left clear of all timber-framing or other supports ; while Salisbury's spire is entirely sustained by such-like aids from the very base to the cap- stone at top whereon the weathercock is elevated. We waive farther comparison between the two structures until the latter comes under our particular survey. Returning to our present concern, we find that the great window in the west front of the cathedral has a short Chichester. 189 time back had its mullions and other work knocked out, and your common masoned "muntings" (mullions) and transoms stuck up in their room, without any tracery sweeps or turns of the second and third degrees ; which work may before long be construed by some shallow dabblers in architectural matters into the classical and chaste productions of our old workmen. On the north and south sides of the church are buttresses, with rare and uncommon octangular- columned terminations; but they have likewise, to save a trifling expense in reparation, been deprived of their principal embellish- ments, and are now capped with vulgar house-coping. The east window of Our Lady's Chapel, judging from those in being on each side, full of elaborate and elegant traceries, must have borne a corresponding show — has been stopped up with mortar, etc. Per- chance these decorations are entirely cut out. How insensible are some to the jewels they possess ! Speaking of these windows, let me advert to the great south window of the south transept. Its situation is in the area of the cloisters, which window and site altogether still retain the name of "Paradise." Admiring age and wondering infancy, each repeat the hallowed name, with the like inbred conviction that something divine appertains to the sacred place. It is not possible, when considering the essentials of this window, as height, width, tracery of manifold parts, to refrain from subscribing to each praise that can be given ; steering at the same time clear of "superstition," though not of "enthusiasm." It may be well to speak of the west porch as an excellent performance ; and the statue over the double entrance is remarkably so, although it is not on record that a foreign artist was the sculptor. As an apology, I may presume that it so chanced upon a certain time an Englishman was found who had eyes as clear, and hands as apt, to form a model of man in the likeness of his Creator as though he had made his way into the land under the guise of a treacherous or an hypocritical foreigner. That this idea may be properly understood, it is well known that our architects, sculptors, and painters have a received opinion (a strange compliment to their own capacities !) that anciently there were no Englishmen adequate to the task of constructing grand edifices, or executing their sculptures ; and that we are solely indebted to Frenchmen and Italians for such works. This they argue, when in the mood to commend any the like performances. In the interior of this cathedral few innovations have been effected. We pass over the "pew lumber," filling up the nave, but cannot overlook a new sort of church decoration, occupying the west and last division of the north aisle of the nave. This division has been walled up into what is termed a "vault"; entrance is had from the south, when consequently the attention is directed to the north, where, instead of beholding any Christian attribute to inspire the hope of a future state, you are instantly struck with the misanthropic 190 Architectural Innovation. demeanour and scowling eyes of an almost naked figure, under the character of an heathen admonisher — so triumphs the Roman and Grecian school over Apostolic example ! .Here the statue of a cynic philosopher takes place of the effigies of a saint or martyr. So much for modern refinement in our national taste ! Another alteration (none, sure, will maintain that it is an "improvement") has been brought about ; that is, converting Our Lady's Chapel into a depot for books, stationers' almanacks/ and other the like furniture, to constitute a reading-room. If my memory is correct (as I took no note of this circumstance), a chimney is made to fill up the site of the original altar — which, indeed, may account why the beautiful east window, before spoken of, is blocked up. Here I wish to be corrected if in an error. I had now come to one spot of the church, the contour of which fully repaid me for each innovating pang I had undergone in my present survey — that is, the view had from the south-east angle of the south transept The whole scene was so entirely original, replete with every picturesque adornment and effect, that/for awhile I was lost to the occupation of the day ; those artists who had contributed towards the delight I enjoyed being the characters I wished to have in memory, and render to them my gratitude, though expressed in silent ecstasies. My transport over, before I proceeded to sum up the particulars of the view, I listened to the morning service, which had a particular tie on my attention ; the office of the Litany being more devoutly and solemnly delivered, and the responses from the choir more harmoniously and sweetly chanted, than I had ever before heard ; and so devoutly and deliberately was the whole of the service gone through, that I heard one of the attending dignitaries observe, after consulting his watch, " that the morning's duty was longer at this time, by half an hour, than was the usual custom." Against the east and west walls of the said transept are affixed historic paintings ; those on the west side (the figures as large as life) relate to the founding of the church and its re-edification in Henry VIII. 's time. Among the various portraits is that of Henry VIII. himself. Here are also, in separate circular compartments, the quarter portraits of "our kings, from William the Conqueror to Henry VIII. (and, since his day, in continuation to George I.). On the east side is the entire collection of the ancient bishops of the see (quarter lengths, and in circular compartments). A short time back the faces of the several portraits were touched upon by some unskilful hand; however, we have before us most curious specimens of the costume of Henry's day, when the whole of these paintings were done (excepting those of subsequent dates), in dresses, warlike habiliments, buildings, etc. Looking towards the north, on the outside of the choir, is the monumental chapel and tomb of St. Richard. The groins above are 5- embellished with paintings of foliage, arms, etc., conveying the eye over the choir; thence into the north transept, intercepted in the way by the galleries over the side-aisles, when the general combination of objects is terminated by the north transept window, which, though inferior to the southern window, still has its own peculiar attractions. Arundel. [1803, Part I., pp. 130-132.] This town is situated on an ascent, the summit of which is occupied by the castle. Vestiges of surrounding walls and gates are to be traced. I did not meet with the remains of any ancient houses, notwithstanding the look of the place j that is, the disposure of the habitations bore on the original ground-lines. However, I formed a tolerable idea in what manner so grand a pile as the castle was accompanied by the neighbouring buildings when in their pristine order. Although no old mansions met my sight, I encountered some edifices of an entire new . mode of architecture. Thus, as each invention that comes out fresh from that court where the arts preside arrests at least some sort of attention (an attention not always necessary to explain), my search was not entirely without entertainment. This new mode then in question, no doubt, merits the name of the Arundelian order of architecture ; but I leave its definition to amateur judges in modern science, and enter on the proper office of .my surveyorship, by describing The Castle. — The grand gateway of entrance is to the west. Grand in design it most certainly is, while its detail of parts is simple to a degree. Many professional people have well explained this seeming problem, by observing that a building is not always grand because overcharged with minute embellishments, but from that just appropri- ation of a few well-chosen decorations disposed by a tasteful hand on a particular structure. This is the true criterion of what constitutes the grand ; to which may be added the sublime. On a line ranging to the left of the gateway is the keep ; the approach is up a noble flight of steps, wherein is to be found little more than the exterior walls. After devoting a considerable time on the examination of these two masonic performances, I entered into the great court of the castle. To the western extremity of the north side of the court are some 68 or 80 feet of the ancient line of chambers remaining, the rest of them having been taken down, and on their site a new suite of rooms is forming. The entire west side of the court has also given place to a new architectural display, the style of which, with what has been done on the north side, need not be elucidated, as modern improve- ments in this way can have little or no connection with my present description. The south side of the court is original, though in ruins; that is, in a certain degree. Here I dwelt with much satisfaction on the view of a porch which appertained, it may be imagined, to the 192 Aixhitectural Innovation. great hall, or some such spacious edifice. Many other architectural particulars carrying on the line of this side of the court I treasured deep in memory, towards some future occasion to bring them into practice or illustration. The abstract of my survey is this : Arundel Castle in former times must have held out to the hardy assailant an aspect of stern defiance, and to the courtly visitant the smile of friendly reception. While its lofty walls and mound rendered it impregnable, yet to those who trod each bower or hall delight and pleasure became stationary from perpetual review of ravishing scenes in distant lands, old ocean's wave, or the interior decorations apper- taining to warlike toils or festive recreations. On repassing the great gate of entrance, as I made way towards the collegiate church, I had the present noble possessor of the castle much in my thoughts ; and I bore these proud qualities of his soul full in recollection. He is a man disdaining all servile depend- ence on another's caprice ; a constant friend to those who may have deserved his hand ; a defender of the humble man when standing between the shock of overbearing power and hired calumny. Distress and poverty to him never told their tale in vain — affable in his con- versation, modest in his manner, and dignified in his demeanour. In short, Honour, bright Honour, has him in her starry train. Such a picture as this is but the true portrait of an English peer, the inherent birthright of elevated rank. These, my effusions, have nought of flattery in them ; I, ever on this as on all other occasions, give my sentiments even as I feel, sometimes pleasurable, sometimes not quite so happy ! The Collegiate Church. — Many ancient buildings are still found ranging on the east and south sides of the cloisters. They have been repaired, and are respectfully tenanted. At the north-east angle of the said site of cloisters one division of its architecture is to be seen. The church is on the grand scale ; the plan, a cross. On the north side are some windows with sweeping cornices, crotchets, and finials, after a method that I never saw made use of before. The body of the church shows columns, arches, with the disposure of the aisles, after the best style. Against the south-west cluster of columns, supporting the tower, in the centre of the edifice, is placed a beautiful stone stall, now used as a pulpit. The work is in the Edwardian manner, and deserves the utmost regard. In the choir, on either hand, are the characteristic decorations of stalls ; they are well executed. The groins, which were of wood, have of late years been taken away, and a modern frame of timber placed on the walls, to serve as a roof, etc. The mullions and tracery in the windows have many pleasing forms to attract the eye. The stone altar exists in good condition ; but the screen, rising at its back, appears to have lost the whole of the ornamental parts. Behind this screen is a small revestry, where is a flight of steps communicating to the ancient Arundel. 193 lodgings on the north-east angle of the cloisters before mentioned. But what renders this church the wonder and admiration of strangers is the magnificent series of brasses, tombs, and monumental chapels in the above choir. I, it must be confessed, was no way wanting in my plaudits ; and notwithstanding those stores which I have accu- mulated from the like association of sepulchral objects, yet I here still obtained another prize exceeding those already past : another and another, in splendid change, breaking on my astonished sight ; never to be cloyed ! Soft, soft, man ; thou art an enthusiast. The stalls take up nearly half of the length of the choir; the other half (to the east) contains the several tombs and monumental chapels. The pavement is diversified with brasses of the effigies of knights and ladies, priests, etc., accompanied with architectural decorations. On the north side of the choir, I first ascended to a tomb bearing on its slab an armed knight, in the usual prostrate attitude ; and in the tomb, open on each side, is the figure of this knight, in the state he is supposed to be in after his decease. This emblematic memorial of man's life and death is finely wrought; and I was told by my conductor that one of our eminent painters had acknowledged this specimen of ancient art "had some merit in it." The next decora- tion (continuing on the line of the north side of the choir) is a large monumental chapel, charged with a profusion of enrichments, but of that taste which prevailed about, or soon after, the close of the reign of Henry VIII. ; an uncouth and strange mixture of our native archi- tectural modes, and the then new importation of ornamental devices from the Roman and Grecian schools ; the tooling, or sculptured parts, betraying the like departure from that true taste and exquisite workmanship which is so demonstrable in all our national edifices prior to the above era. Opposite, on the south side of the choir, is another large monumental chapel, covered over likewise with an un- bounded display of embellishments — embellishments as far exceeding the former show as the lustre of the diamond doth the factitious pro- duction of some crystal-glass gewgaw. Permit me to observe, this chapel presents a chaste and unadulterated proof to what a height of perfection our ancient sculpture and masonry had arrived in the formation of everything that was excellent and charming. Here is much originality in the parts, particularly shown by the twisted columns and the arched canopies on their capitals. Within this chapel is an altar-tomb, whereon is placed a second tomb; brought, it may be conjectured, from some other situation ; bearing statues of a male and female, superbly arrayed. In the centre of the choir, and directly before the altar, is a tomb entirely sculptured in alabaster. My encomiums exhausted on the foregoing subject, how shall I in the present instance call forth adequate expressions sufficient to give that tribute of applause which this, another master-work of the chisel, stands forward to claim in right of consummate excellence ? Defec- vol. x. 13 194 Architectural Innovation. tive hand, words in expressions fitting fly my pen. Deep in the inmost recesses of my imagination live, then, the merits of this tomb; too great for utterance, though not for conception. Friends in anti- quarian pleasures, let your thoughts go with me : all then is under- stood. On the four sides of this tomb are niches filled with statues ; in the entablatures a multiplicity of shields are inserted, and the statues of the lord and lady, lying under gorgeous canopies in their dresses, give the most minute and particular explanation of the ele- gant costume of their day. After a necessary reduction of sentiment from this sublime repast, I passed into a chapel on the north side of the choir ; where were some plain stalls, and at the east end a stone altar like the one in the choir, and near it, in a centrical position, an altar-tomb unadorned, excepting by some compartments con- taining shields, etc. Allowing that simplicity of design in this latter arrangement is most conspicuous, yet the appearance of grandeur is not wanting : so true it is, our ancient works,' either of a proscribed or expanded plan, are still intrinsic — ever commanding sacred observation, and an obligatory care and protection. [1803, Part II., pp. 230, 231.] As country gentlemen have much time on their hands, some turn their attention to agricultural and some to architectural matters. Both pursuits have their uses, and both their rewards ; the first by improving the produce of their lands, and the latter by the adorn- ment of some of the most beautiful scenes within their possessions. Yet how often do these undertakings fail either from a mistaken application of particular modes of culture, or by a false idea of those qualities which in building give the true standard of taste and ele- gance. As far as my experience held with me, I witnessed, as I onward went, some of those things termed " snug-boxes, lodges, and neat cottages" reared by the roadside, thickset with the gleanings gathered up after your reapers in the fields of the "fantastic order" had received their "penny" of applause for "chaste" imitations made in octavo pages, or in lath and plaster sociables, or distributed out to those scribes who have the admirable knack of proving that a mere oblong geometrical figure sweeping with a pointed head, is the whole and sum-total of our ancient architecture ; demon- strating at the same time that the mouldings, ornaments, etc., thereunto belonging have little or no intrinsic merit, and ought by no means to be brought into consideration, so as to fetter the refined faculties of those who condescend to give to their archi- tectural designs a turn towards our remote modes of constructure. These pretty new road accompaniments, named as above, had a fanciful combination of smooth - wrought walls, smooth-worked windows and doors of the pointed turns, with bodies of trees scarce lopped of their branches supporting thatched roofs. Porchester Castle. 195 Porchester Castle. Of our many noble and extensive ruinated castles this may certainly be considered as one of the first class. The effect it gives from a flat and dreary situation is altogether peculiar to itself. The whole extent of the surrounding wall is remaining ; the east side washed by the waters of the Channel, and the other fronts overlooking barren fields, and a mean town, which town seems to owe its being to the resort made here in time of war. Advancing to the north-west side of the castle, the square and elevated keep hangs as it were over the walls in menacing aspect. The gate of entrance at the west is large, and much decorated. Entering, I noted on the left a long avenue or approach, ascending in many winding directions to the keep ; the parts of which have also a variety of decorations, well studied, and well applied to such an arrangement of communication. The keep from this point comes on the sense with additional force, both in seeming and in magni- tude. These works appear Edwardian. Within the whole circuit of this fortress, I found no vestiges of other buildings than those enumerated, excepting the chapel, a fine specimen of Saxon archi- tecture, evinced principally by the west front. The door of entrance is one of those magnificent and elaborate designs such as we find at St. Margaret's Church, York;* Ifley Church, near Oxford; Barfreston Church, near Canterbury ; Malmesbury Abbey-church, etc. I regret that I had not the opportunity to see the interior of this chapel and the keep. To confess the true cause of my remissness in this respect, far other sensations than those allied with antiquarian pleasures took too fast hold of my attention ; for I saw on every hand wood lock-up huts, palisadoes, and other such-like securities, wherein had been confined the French prisoners. The horrors attendant on review of these objects, which till a short time ago had been the receptacles of those who had forgot their God and king, threw my soul into a shudder. And ever as I turned to catch a parting look at the keep and chapel, some fresh recollection of dire sacrilege and massacre darted their remorseless terrors full in my distracted sight ! Tichfield. [1803, Part II, pp. 325-327.] The next ruin I meet with in my course had the name of " Tich- field " attached to it. Here, instead of finding an entire pile of buildings in excellent repair, well furnished, and nobly inhabited, as some twelve years ago L was given to understand from the best * Engraved in "Specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting." 13—2 196 Architectural Innovation. authority was its condition, I saw the lamentable leavings of dilapi- datory furor. Addressing myself to an aged tenant of an adjoining hamlet: "You, ray friend, have no doubt beheld this edifice bear another aspect than that which now so melancholy hangs over it; I pr'ythee say how was its state?" "Stranger," replied the good man, " I have long bore testimony to the fortune of this structure ; have, when in my youthful days, been more than happy in the view; and as I now hasten to bid this mortal life farewell, see with deep concern this constant object, ever instigating duteous regard to ennobled orders, decline with me also. It has, indeed, passed before me in the wreck of things ; dead, disunited and prostrate on the earth. I am yet in existence, have man's due proportions, still stand erect ; could give way to ireful prediction. But I forbear ; my thoughts hurry back to that point where humble resignation dwells, and only ruminate how once the dignity of this place was owned, how once maintained. Inquire no more ; prudence restrains my tongue, and I must go." Thus we two admirers of what once was (with some little difference in regard to certain particulars) parted, each shaking our heads, and holding out our arms, as men who think on what they are unable to express, either to satisfy their own disturbed spirits, or the half-inquiring fears of those who may suspect their actions are not altogether free from censure. Southampton. If there should be one architect among us who may really wish to select and draw from our antiquities, or one amateur follower of the art who may literally desire to see such imitations brought into practice, so as to give particular parts of his rural domains a probable semblance of some remnant of a castellated mansion, whereby to revive in his mind how his great ancestors flourished in warlike pomp; then let them repair hither, and make an accurate survey of the encircling walls of this town, where on each direct flank will be found abundant objects for the above purpose, in gates of entrance, circular and square towers, buttresses of simple form, or diversified with splays of every degree, battlements, turrets, and all the long list of defensive architecture too infinite to be enumerated in this place. Contenting myself that from these hints I may set one or two to their proper labours, I as usual shall proceed, and speak of things as I find them. Ban* Gate, entering the town from the London road, is large and stately, and in good repair, by which we may infer the names of the heroes of Southampton, Sir Bevis and Sir Iscapart, are dear to the inhabitants ; as their portraits painted on boards hung up on each side the entrance, indeed, sufficiently demonstrate. Water Gate Southampton. 197 stands below, at the other extremity of the town, overlooking the river. Men of this quarter carp at, look askance and decry, this warrant of their former consequence ; they, unlike their brethren of the upper guard, cry : " Pull us down this gate ; take from our sight the nuisance ; air we want ; not the fresh air altogether, but that air such as promenades dispense when all the elegance and fashion of the place here repair to take the sea-drawn breeze. Low men of this lower watch, gird on ; your scoffs and hopes alike are vain ; Water Gate still remains." Among the many curious architectural par- ticulars aggrandizing the town are some parts of the palace of Canute, running on a line with the gate just mentioned ; from the windows of which, as an honourable author has suggested, this monarch when adulated by his nobles pointed to the tide then coming in, and said: "I will go forth and prove my omnipotence, by bidding the rushing waters not to wet my feet but the impetuous waves heeded not, and proved to him and his servile flatterers that he was but a man. Keeping on the direction of these buildings, at 300 or 400 feet distance, is a very extensive assemblage of lofty arches, forming re- cesses in a wall once making a face to some spacious work ; but whether they gave the external or internal line cannot be ascer- tained. All Saints' Church, since 1789, has been demolished, and a modern ecclesiastical design built on its site. I mention this cir- cumstance, as the west window of the old church was a design I never witnessed before. Its geometrical figure is not easily to be described. We may, however, say the width of the window was divided into three equal parts ; the first and third parts receded diagonal-wise, while the second, or centre part, stood parallel with the front of the window, as usual. Thus these three divisions gave at once a bow-window and two compartmented sides, right and left. Netley Abbey. Not having the opportunity at this time of paying a second tribute of admiration to the ruins of Netley Abbey, I shall turn back to my notes and sketches taken in 1789. After a walk of three miles, the greater length of the way lying through a thick and mazy wood, I entered on the open area whereon the abbey stands. Directly before the west front of the church, at about 200 feet distance, is a small fort overlooking the Southampton river, serving once as a water-gate and a place of de- fence to the sacred seclusion. The west wall of the cloisters ranges with the west front of the church, where is a large projecting tower appearing as the original entrance thereinto. The present entrance is in the centre of the south wall of the cloisters ; which before I 198 Architectural Innovation. passed through, I examined the vestiges of a series of offices taking up the whole of this south line. Entering into the cloisters, I found a wide waste ; the internal walls, west, south and east, and the south side of the church alone bounding the area. On the east wall are three entrances into three several rooms, one of which, from the large dimensions, may be inferred, is the chapter-house ; these rooms communicate with many more, which extend far beyond the south wall of the cloisters. On the right of the chapter-house a pass is had to the site of the cemetery, where at the eastern extremity of this extensive plot of ground is another grand assemblage of rooms. It is necessary to remark, these several buildings for the accommoda- tion of the religious have suffered so much from dilapidations that but confined ideas can be conceived of the original finishings of the minute parts. They have all, excepting the chapter-house, room attached, and the offices on the outside of the south cloister, their various constructed groins or arched ceilings. The rooms at the east point of the cemetery in this respect have some very fine proofs of masonic skill in this way, altogether rare and extraordinary. The walls of the church are partly complete, save the north transept (of which no traces can be discerned), and are left in many situations as high as their first terminations, in which are the windows and other wall decorations. The columns, arches, etc., composing the aisles, are all fallen into prodigious heaps of undistinguished rubbish; and it was with some difficulty I made out the precise arrangements of the nave, centrical tower, and choir. There is no indication that there ever was a chapel of our Lady east of the choir, as common to other abbey-churches. In the south transept, how- ever, are many particulars in being, so as to inform the mind how Netley's former architectural fame was manifested ; for the east aisle belonging thereunto is complete, with its columns, arches, galleries, and groins ; and what is more to be regarded, the ribs of the groins of the transept itself are standing, nearly independent of their grounds or spandrils, hanging as it were in suspensive insecurity, to the utter astonishment of all scientific beholders how they have remained so long in this uncertain state, and how they still defy the tooth of Time.* Ancient Art, great is thy pride of durability, when left un- touched by the destroying arm of man ! Ancient Art, cruel is thy fate when your beautiful specimens are left unprotected by insensible possessors ! I cry your mercy, good gentlemen, who thus hold our ruinated holy fabrics in your power. Permit me to remind you of an almost worn-out despised tale, prefixed to the destiny of these superb ruins. A person some years ago, who had agreed to pull down the whole of the abbey for an advantageous sale of the materials, had * I have been informed, from the unrestrained access had to these ruins by wanton and mischievous visitors, that these ribs have very lately been pulled down by, and for the amusement of, such ignorant and unfeeling " rabble." Carisbrooke Castle. 199 gone on with his labour to a certain degree, when, standing within the divisions of the great west window — here I set the drawing of this object full before me — and being much enraged at the resist- ance made by the tracery of the upper tier of the window, vented many impious and blasphemous calumnies against the ancient artificers of this abbey, when, as though his vile ingratitude to the memories of such his foregone brethren — this man being himself a mason, to say nothing of his then sacrilegious act — was to meet a due punishment, the whole of the tracery work fell down, and crushed him to atoms ! Warnings in dreams he had three nights preceding this his untimely end ! Who is he, contemptuous, that cries out, "What have we to do with fabled anecdotes ? — Superstition's last resource to aid her cause !" [1803, Part II, pp. 426-429.] As I took the license to refer to my sketches and notes of 1789 for my account of Netley Abbey, in like manner I shall transport myself to the Isle of Wight, having first crossed the " waters of the channel," or Southampton river, for Carisbrooke Castle. Charles I. was a monarch in whom was found piety, meekness, conjugal affection, heroism, honour, wisdom • and who, like a noble prince, was an encourager and patron of the fine arts. I, as an artist and a faithful subject, dwell with no common satisfaction on this outline of Charles's character, who, indeed, was everything but fortunate. Ill-fated sovereign, do I now behold those darkened walls, those sullen towers, once thy captive bounds, when thine own liege subjects became thy gaolers, thy cruel tyrants ? . . . I found the ascent to the castle a weary way; and as I approached near the summit, the buildings became foreshortened to the view, the towers at the entrance being alone visible. Well, I gained the height ; and then it was that the whole scene was displayed in all its enchanting forms. After commenting on the vast expanse of country I had left behind me, I made over a stone bridge of two arches, passed through a small gate of introduction to an avenue, or second bridge, thrown across the second fosse. I now was arrived at the arch of the grand gate of entrance. A terrific pass presented itself, of two prodigious lengthened wards ; the farther one ruined, and open to the sky. Before I adventured on, curiosity induced me to turn into the lodge in the left tower of the entrance ; the appearance of which was such as might well make a draftsman, intent on the picturesque, sit down to exercise his pencil. I went to work ; the distant fields and hills being seen through the loopholes, and thunder and lightning, to give sublimity to the scene, accompanying me in 200 A rch itectu ral In novation . this my delineatory endeavour. A total want of any living object, to cry " How fares it, brother ?" still made my dreary abode the more cheerless and forlorn. My sketch taken, I bore along the first and second wards, already mentioned ; and while the " rocking battle- ments" threatened my exploring head, the wind then blowing a per- fect hurricane, I could not forbear (" arrant "-like) to stay me to sketch some remarkable corbels and groin-springers, and other the like decorations. The iron clamour for admittance I then made loudly announced a visitor was at hand. The door was opened, being the only one left of four, which, from the first guard to this last, opening directly into the first court, served to secure so mighty an inlet. On the left, on the right, ruins — ruins, all a fell sacrifice to mortal man. Say, was the demolition in revenge to the manes of the murdered king, here once imprisoned ? If so, why, as at Fotheringay Castle, was there left one stone upon another ? I fear me no revenge of this sort wrought the innovations which now I witness. Modern accommodations for drawing-rooms, parlours, billiard-rooms, and the like sort of arrangements, raised within this court, tell how the matter stands, why each bower or hall is thus dismantled, torn, and overthrown. The keep, a havocked remnant of the magnificence of the Norman era, still endures ; lofty, capacious, and full charged with architec- tural particulars, well meriting a strict survey. The melancholy impressions, so strongly connected with the history of this castle, make it impossible to give way, so as to describe the ceremonies of a certain folly, riveted in the very centre of these mounds — that is, the dropping of a pin down a well ; which well, however, it is but proper to observe, is an astonishing example of masonry, perfectly tooled throughout all its dimensions, and remains in the best condition possible. . . . Salisbury. To continue on my present tour in a regular manner (not intending any more to seek the aid of former memoranda to eke out my tale), I therefore make known that I advanced towards that spired fane, one of the architectural wonders of the land, Salisbury Cathedral. . . . At last I made my entry into Salisbury, sought out a well-favoured and quiet hostelry, where I might enjoy my private reflections, and the convenience of putting down each day's professional account, taken either from the city's mighty object, or from some celebrated or antiquarian subject contiguous to the same. Wilton House. My onset was to survey the works both of sculpture and paintings; where I found a sort of architectural lodgment had been effected Wilton House. 201 by the various sons connected with the art, on the exterior of the walls, as also in the halls, chambers, and other parts of the mansion. It was altogether impossible to decipher with precision (I will not say I was in an enemy's lines) what improvements were to be made on the "adornments"* set up here by Holbein and Inigo Jones; yet, by the preparation of scaffolds, ladders, and shoring poles, certainly something new was to be brought to pass. It could not be altogether a mere " repair," as the interior of Holbein's celebrated tower, or gate of entrance, was in part bowed down to the power of indiscrimi- nate change. The mode was not in the Holbein taste ; it was not after our remote styles, either Saxon, Norman, or Edwardian. No, it was that mode of lath and plaster work (modern substitutes for stone and oak), such as we see gaining ground on every hand, assum- ing to itself the title of ancient " imitation" ; while its every line shows where the bias tends. Fancy unfettered, improvement the leading principle ; something new, the world's idol ; ancient models, prejudice ; antiquity itself, a laughing-stock — the " fantastic order of architecture." These mottoes I set down for the free use of our present architec- tural tribe, to be adapted by them on particular occasions, and for particular purposes. They will thank me, no doubt, for these intima- tions. Why, then it is well. The Great Hall — After listening with the utmost attention and regard to each explanation which my conductor, with much pom- posity, was pleased to communicate, of the inestimable qualities of this statue and that basso-relievo, he very gravely was about to pro- ceed on his "walk" of description into other rooms, when I (unhappy national partiality !) cried out : " Sir, good sir, I earnestly entreat your information relative to those fine suits of armour hanging up on each side of this hall." " Oh," he answered, " they are only some old armours once belonging to the first lordly possessor of this house (which had been, before his time, one of your abbeys), and to some noble Frenchmen whom he had taken prisoners in battle — that's all." After recovering from my delusion, in idly gazing on each helm, gorge, cuirass, shield, or spear, the warlike trophies of a renowned name, I, as before, prepared myself for further note of heathen gods, altars, and all the rest of such an edifying collection ; at once forget- ting (I am ashamed to confess the truth) that I was by persuasion a Christian, or that England's ancient artists had left behind them any- thing deserving of attention. In this mood I was all rapture with every subject my kind conductor willed me to be caught with, was it a statue, a bust, or a sarcophagus ; being perfectly satisfied that the addition of an arm, or a leg, properly applied, " looked very well " ;f * See "A Description of the Antiquities and Curiosities in Wilton House," by J. Kennedy, 1769. t Ibid,, Introduction, p. xiv. 202 Architectural Innovation. and equally credited him when he declared this sculpture to be an original, or that a copy. The paintings now came in for their share of applause (an applause something different from the above). One moment I was delighted with beholding the beauteous pencilling of a Vandyke ; another instant I was transported with the sublime touches of a Rubens. Thus of Van Eyck, Albert Durer, Holbein, Raphael, etc. In one of the chambers, where much furniture was stowed, in consequence of workmen being in the house, as before observed, I chanced to stumble on a small statue of Henry VIII. cut in oak. It was, in my opinion, a very excellent performance. My conductor was silent on this article; to be sure, he was well warranted so to be; as, in the " Catalogue of Statues,"* this carving is not once mentioned. How comes it that this our eighth Harry's statue was forgot ? Was it concluded that, as his virtues and piety were so notorious, his gift of this mansion so well recorded, and that this statue was shaped by an English hand, all mention on the subject would be needless ; much less of consequence sufficient to rank with Roman and Grecian productions of the chisel. . . . Every adoration being exhausted (to which I subscribe as fervently as anyone) on the great family picture by Vandyke, let me, in turn, be lavish in applause on that charming, that precious jewel, that in- estimable treasure, that unique in ancient art, English art (who can gainsay this my assertion?) — that divine painting of Richard II. What truth of drawing; what minute attention to every costumic particular ; what delicacy in the colouring ; what angelic harmony in the attitudes; what holy, what beautiful countenances; what a com- position to inflame the soul with conception of regal devotion, eternal bliss and !. .. I should have found this, my adulated relic, placed in a more conspicuous situation or a better light than that in which I viewed it. In sober theme, then, let us look into the design of this painting, and judge whether I am too zealous, or others too indifferent. Richard is on his knees (unfashionable), attended by his guardian saints, Edward the Confessor, King Edmund the Martyr, and St. John Baptist (superstitious supporters), and is pray- ing to our Lady, with the Infant Jesus in her arms, surrounded by eleven angels. (What painter at this day would introduce such accompaniments to set off his principal portrait ?) It is needless to say anything more to qualify my defence of a painting done among us about 1377. Old Sarum. [1803, Part II. , pp. 515-517.] Perhaps there is no spot in the kingdom where little more than geometrical lines, cut in the bosom of the ground, are left to guide * " Description of Wilton House," Introduction, p. xiv. Old Sarum. 203 the curious in historic search after evidences of grandeur, and lofty state, than this remain. The principal part of the design, with reference to plan, is a circle of more than 1,500 feet in diameter, which, with the interior, or second circle, is well preserved — that is, as far as the earthworks go, as there are but few vestiges of the walls to be met with. The usual approach is along a gradual ascent to the first fosse, 140 feet wide, over which there is, at present, to the south-east, a narrow pass of earth (guarded by a mole of earth likewise) to the first mound, or intrenchment. Here is an opening into the area, but no appearance of stonework, to mark the gate of entrance ; nor, indeed, in tracing round the summit of the intrenchment, is there any wall to be met with, except at the north-west, where is an excellent specimen of such defence, 40 feet in length, 8 feet in thickness, and about 10 feet in height. Many of the facing-stones are left, regularly disposed, and nicely jointed. In this area (width, from intrenchment to second fosse, 310 feet) are three ridges of earth, stretching across the space (they being intrenchments for the support of interior walls). One bears to the south-west, another to the north-east, and a third due east. In the division to the north-east stood the cathedral ; and we are informed by Price* that in his time the foundations were visible, though now no traces of them are left. The ridge bearing to the east, where its line abuts against the encircling intrenchment, there has lately been discovered, by the falling-in of the earth, a descending avenue of stonework, the course of which leads, through the thickness of the intrenchment, to the level of the fosse. The avenue here being filled up with rubbish, it could not be pursued further. It is conjectured, as there is not the least appearance in the fosse of any opening whereby this avenue had communication to the adjoining grounds, that its plan turned to the right and left, and was continued through the whole thickness of the intrenchment ; but for what direct purpose we, at this day, find it difficult to determine. The ex- periment of clearing away the obstructing materials might not prove a fruitless attempt, thereby to determine so curious a matter; but where are those who have either inclination or the means to set about such an act ? Alas ! men's studies are now nearly turned from the paths of antiquity. Speculations in earthworks for canals, lead- mines, coal-mines, copper-mines, tin-mines, etc., etc., are your only "rage." Hope, then, for antiquarian enterprise, headed by the great and affluent, is, I fear, but a mere illusion. A weak endeavour to this purpose, from a few individuals, circumscribed by narrow means, is all we are to look forward to, in aid of this good old cause — which cause, I find, from constant experience, seems to be on the decline. Oft has expectation made me conclude renovation was nigh : 800 dignified associates signing their names to restore the sickly flame ; * See his "Observations on the Cathedral Church of Salisbury," 1753. 204 Architectural Innovation. but the heat soon subsides, and cold indifference follows the initials of the noble list. The second fosse is, in width, 122 feet, a circular form still ; when, holding on the south-east direction, as at the first entrance, a second pass over this second fosse brought me to the grand entrance, leading into the second area. The way became extremely difficult, from the declivity of the ground; and the danger (or labour) was not a little heightened by the immense masses of wall, on either hand, hanging in a suspended state, which marked out this terrific entrance. The facing-stones have been all purloined, and the rubble alone remains — a very rock of masonry — for so tenacious are the materials, that, notwithstanding some of the work is fallen, it still retains the true position of the several courses. Although no precise idea can be submitted as to the design of this entrance, in towers, turrets, arches, and the like objects, yet, from a situation so commanding, from walls so mighty, it must have been inaccessible to warlike assaults while defended by warlike zeal. That lost, and even these walls left defenceless and forsaken, they have become a prey to ruin ; neigh- bouring buildings want wrought stone ; cottages want hearthstones ; and roads want stones to repair them with. Time here has been but a looker-on, unemployed — a mere lounger in this scene of waste. Man, provident man, has reduced our investigations, since Price surveyed this place, even to what we find. Come, it is well it is no worse. We are in the second area (still circular); width 318 feet. Nought but an indiscriminate heap of earth, deep dells, and irregular ridges meet my sight ; of wall, not the least particle ; and conjecture, that kind attendant on all explorators, was wholly useless on the occasion, a mere " sleeping" guide ; so I even gave up the purpose, to arrange out the castle wards, keep, hall, and the long et cetera. . . . New Sarum, or Salisbury. I shall first mention that there are several ancient houses remaining in this city, constructed with stone, of various dimensions ; their dressings regular, evincing great accommodation in their plans, and, from the number and lightsomeness of the windows, and other decorations, manifesting that such abodes, when in their original order, diffused every convenience requisite for consequential and cheerful habitation. Surely the customs and manners of our ancestors, three centuries past, by some writers have been but superficially understood, or grossly misrepresented — or else we should not read in a new publication (on Gardening and Architecture) ideas to the following purport. The author, after presuming to judge of the merits and to condemn the demerits of our ancient architecture, thinks gentlemen who are raising or repairing houses in the country will do well, in some instances, to " imitate" to a certain degree our ancient modes, for the exteriors, but on no account to follow the New Sarum, or Salisbury. 205 practice in the interiors, as it is necessary at this day to live comfortably within doors. The Market Cross is a beautiful object, but has been most cruelly despoiled of the upper part of its design. We suppose the finishings were similar to those at Malmesbury and Chichester. The close of the cathedral is surrounded nearly with lofty walls, embattled, having many hanging parapets, turrets, and in their circuit present four or more gates of entrance (much dilapidated), with a fosse, and other particulars necessary to a defensive work. On the exterior of the wall, to the east, bearing on the High Street, are stuck a number of ornamented stones, of Saxon performance, consisting of parts of enriched architraves, cornices, paterae, ornamented compartments, bustos, etc. The sculpture is good, and, allowing for the public situation, the mutilations are not very great. There is one particular bust, placed in a circular-headed recess, which bears the look of Roman — at any rate, I may presume to affirm I have seen things of this sort, no way superior, treasured in splendid collections. Collectors who never have been instigated to look for "antiques" among our weeds, old walls, and ditches, at least at Salisbury, may now (who knows ?) take a peep ; and what at present serves as a mark to throw stones at, be in future placed in cabineted security, as morsels rare and inestimable. At any rate, it may be asked how these relics became inserted in a wall, raised about, or subsequent to, the finishing of the present cathedral church ? It is probable that, when the cathedral was demolished at Old Sarum, some of the materials were brought from thence to be used in the new works going on in this place, now, to us who live, old works. Be this as it may, these ornaments should not be passed by unheeded. [1803, Pari II., pp. 642-644.] On the west side of the close is a range of ancient houses, in the centre of which, and fronting the west end of the cathedral, stands the deanery. They have all submitted to take the smatterings of the several styles of buildings pervading our architectural hemisphere for a century past. They still, however, show out much consequence; and the deanery in particular, in retaining many of the original finishings belonging to our former religious habitations. On the east side of the close is the bishop's palace ; the principal front bears to the north. This is the remains of a noble elevation; it gives at present a centrical body and two wings. The left wing is entire, consisting of many buttresses, a door of entrance, windows, and a beautiful staircase turret of Henry VII.'s mode. The right wing till of late was also perfect; but the genius of innovation stirred up an architect* (now no more) to try his hand at improve- * Sir Robert Taylor. 2o6 Architectural Innovation. ment ; and he has succeeded in the true spirit of the fantastic order, by designing a porch — a porch on which he has crammed the blinking semblances of a pointed window (not a door), pinnacles springing out of columns, paterae compartments, and a common modern square- headed doorway — in short, a complete caricature of the architecture of the neighbouring church. The body of this palace has been totally changed to the style of Charles II. 's reign — a style signifying nothing but insipidity, and a blind departure from that perfect harmony of building so predominant in our ancient works. When I stood on the spot heretofore bearing the famous Bell Tower, I cast about for some cause to help my wandering sense why that object was levelled with the ground. It could not be to obtain a space for the planting of a few Lombardy poplars, as the site has been again built on, a few huts now rearing their paltry roofs where once stood this one of the glories of the city. It could not be for an open view of the cathedral, as lofty rows of elms entirely shut out any distant prospect of this sort. For what purpose, then, was the downfall brought about ? Interest ? Interest could not go far in the inducement ; for what avail old wrought stones, timber, lead, in an account of moneys, mounting up to things of price, a con- sequential sum? Among my list of regrets I have set this memo- randum: " Did not ever draw a view of the Bell Tower at Salisbury.' Brother Price comes me, then, in good stead, with his elevations of this subject. Easton's view of the north side of the cathedral has it too. Much information hence is derived; yet in such informa- tion, how much lamentation is to be found ! Must antiquity-lovers be the only sufferers on these occasions of devastation? Believe me, no. Antiquity-haters will have their hour of contrition. Deep, then, let the impulse fall ; let it rankle into the very heart's core ; give to them full measure, retribution. The Cathedral — I first surveyed the cloisters, which are on the south side of the church ; the exterior of them to the west runs on a line with the west front of the cathedral ; and is a vast length of wall, made out by a regular disposure of buttresses, and a rich com- partmented parapet. There is one doorway in the range, through which I entered into the cloisters themselves. The north cloister, by a peculiar circumstance unparalleled in all other cathedrals, stands detached from the south wall of the nave, whereby an avenue is obtained ; for what purpose originally intended I am not prepared to say; but it is at present of much service in being made the rubbish repository of the religious pile. Here let the infatuated antiquary, like me, pore out for broken painted glass, funeral trophies of helmets, gauntlets and banners ; parts of rifled tombs, sculptured gravestones, enriched paving-tiles, and all the " off-scou rings " of professional improvers. Let me haste from this first scene of torture. Oblivion, save me ! I found the cloisters in good hands ; New Sarum, or Salisbury. 207 reparation was the word, though how slow the hammers told each "nick" of progress. No matter; it is "church work," that is enough. But I will give praise where praise is really due ; the re- storation of such parts as are decayed seems tolerably correct. How happens this ? Why, indeed, the poor men had no other superin- tendent than the common plodding master-mason of the place, who never heard, perhaps, how much a man shows his abilities when he substitutes his own whims for those of the original model which he had been " commanded " to copy. . . . I found myself in the avenue leading to the chapter-house, which is situated on the east side of the cloisters. Delightful introduction, all elegance, all charm — the harbinger to a place emphatically styled " Paradise"! Nothing can be more appropriate, for here no monster alteration has ever set his claws ; all is as the pious founders left it, unchanged, and fixed in its first, would I might say everlasting seat ; but that is a wish bordering on the presumptuous, and at this hour of novelty it may be thought somewhat profane. As I looked through the double door of entrance, what an enraptured assemblage of elevated columned recesses, with seats designed for those who sat in religious council ; costume heads, basso-relievos, painted windows (too many of them despoiled of their transparent show), and that masterpiece of art, the centre cluster of columns supporting the springing of every groin, so as to ensure of their safe return to each angular cluster of columns at every cant of the divine room. The armorial pavement, a pleasing disposure, assimilating itself to the wayward turn of the octangular design. Is not the proportion of every part true ? the widths, heights, and every enrichment con- summate in beauty and elegance ? is not the eye lost in the sweet delirium? Architecture, here thy sway is potent, is supreme, at least to me. In this delightful resignation to a power so mighty, my transport was somewhat broke in upon by the entry of one of the dignitaries : goodness and a benign mind beamed on his brow ; he saw my rapture, and he expressed how much he partook of the same sensations whenever he visited the place ; but his participation was certainly of a more rational turn than mine, tempered by " modera- tion, grace divine." My portion was enthusiasm, grace unhallowed ! "See you!" he cried, "yon iron bars, which horizontally lie from every angle, and unite in a circular band round the centre cluster of columns?" "Yes, reverend sir," I answered; "and, as I have been credibly informed, set up there 100 years past with an intent, by some wise survey, to give security to the building. A deformity they are beyond a doubt, their dark lines obstructing the curvatures of the groins in each particular view ; yet protection is a thing most to be desired in a case of this sort." " Ay, ay," the reverend sir re- turned ; " but what say you to the opinion of that ingenious architect to whom our church stands indebted for its present improved state ? 208 Architectural Innovation. Why, man, he has given us leave to take all those bars down, as he positively declares they are not now, nor never were, of any use." It would be quite irrelevant to this account to recite the symptoms of my surprise and astonishment created by the information of so bold a proposal, founded, no doubt, on mature investigation and profound judgment. After this our conference, my haste (you, my kind reader, may call it desire, if you please) was so extreme to draw the views, details of parts, etc., of the chapter-house, that, thinking merely at first to pass a day or two on such endeavour, I soon absolutely found (not to be accounted for) that I had run through a fortnight's study before my thread of imitation was wound up. [1803, PartIL y pp. 735737-] As a cemetery is a place appropriated for the burial of the dead, what situation can be so desirable as under the wing of an holy edifice, where the living may, either before or after prayer, ruminate on the ashes of their relatives and friends who have passed the vale of death before them, by recapitulating each loved name, and other endearing circumstances ? Why, then, are we, as in the areas both on the west and north fronts, cut off from this mournful pleasure ? No sod-raised mound, no marble mortuary, to guide the surviving inquirer where those relics lie, near which he may wish, when life is gone, his bones should find a resting-place ! Here the pleasurable green plot, the capability fir clump, the gay promenade, take place of the solemn yew, the moss-bound grave, and the winding path leading through mortal mementoes. Well can I conceive that melan- choly hour when the lamenting inhabitants of the city assembled to witness the levelling scene, which banished for ever from their sights those objects set up as the last obligatory office to departed worth ; can well figure to myself how they stood aghast when the ruthless hammers curtailed the exterior of the church of its particular parts, or overthrew in its interior the monumental record, or the mounds of the holy sanctuary !* Grief, no doubt, overcame the idea of remon- strance. Not so was it when Somerset, in Edward VI. 's day, set about to dilapidate our adored Abbey Church at Westminster. Something more than bare entreaty from the enraged neighbourhood at that time stayed the sacrilegious intention. My friend J. C. has well proved, p. 636, that the same spirit, and the same veneration for the consecrated fane, drew forth the present race, on the occasion of the late fire, to succour and to save. The men of Westminster, we may reasonably suppose, will not likewise be insensible to what may be the end of the job, to use the vulgar professional phrase, both in repairing the damaged lantern, and the restorations, as they are called, making on Henry VII.'s Chapel. The said J. C, according * Altar screen, etc. New Sarum, or Salisbury. 209 to his proposed communication, p. 639, will not, we hope, fail, by his faithful watching, to give them every necessary hint, that the sleep of indifference may not overcome their active concern for the future prosperity of the royal structure. Apologizing for this digression, let me revert to the west front of the cathedral. Salisbury's founder and first architect, if their spirits could have leave to revisit our earth, must have known much felicity in witnessing their general plan carried into execution throughout the whole work — a work which to this day has so well endured. We who bear witness to this see a regular uniform design of one pure style of architecture pervading every part (allowing for a few partial deviations in some of the smaller lines) ; the plinths, dados, heights of windows, parapets, roofs, etc., all running in conformity, one object level with another. Consistency in architecture, as seen on the walls of Salisbury Cathedral Church, is certainly to be admired, as most creditable to the architect who has conformed to those rules laid down in the examples of the Roman and Grecian schools ; yet that indescribable delight received from the beautiful irregularity conspicuous on our other cathedrals has also its consistent charm, equal, if not superior, to the squared precepts of regular design. However, not to do away in the least degree the interest imbibed for the building before us, we must for the present estrange (with gentle mind) ourselves from thought of all other our great national labours, and confine our opinion solely to this one of Salisbury. The west front. — It is peculiarly noble, being composed of three grand entrances, windows to the centre and side aisles, and in the centre and side roofs ; several tiers of columned recesses filled with statues, a diamonded facia, and turrets at each extremity of the elevation. Little or no alteration has taken place on this front. North front.— The design is still continued with an eye to the magnificent. The north porch large and superbly finished in the interior; the first and second transepts, the nave, choir, and Our Lady's Chapel, finely tell out their part of elegant appropriation. The tower and spire, emerging from the intersection of the great features of the edifice, wonderfully delight the beholder, and indubitably prove the power of those capacious minds who bade the aspiring decor- ations last on from age to age. The innovations on this side of the cathedral are many, and done under the vague pretence of improve- ment ; indeed, the meaning of this word has been stretched to a degree bordering on the incomprehensible ; "great improvements"* is the title made to cover all the changes lately brought to pass in this church ; therefore the first demolition, otherwise improvement, that occurs is the small porch which entered into the first transept. This act was brought about on the mere supposition that it was an after-thought of some meddling architect who lived at a time subse- * See Dodsworth's "Guide to the Cathedral Church of Salsbury." VOL. X. 14 2IO Architectural Innovation, quent to the completion of the church. In order to save this curious entrance from a consignment to rubbish, a lover of antiquities* in the environs of the city begged the several particles, and has with great care put them together nearly in their original position in his garden as a small cross for contemplation ; to retire there occasionally and view the north-east part of the cathedral, to reflect on the changes it has endured, more especially in the interior, to approve or to condemn. The next innovation is the Hungerford Chapel on the north side ; and we may also add Beauchamp Chapel on the south side of Our Lady's Chapel. The plea for this havoc is preposterous to an antiquary, and no less so to all disinterested visitors. Why truly these two small appendages, like the aforesaid porch, were said to be erections of a late date, not only foreign to the main design, but endangering, by their near affinity of materials, " the safety of the buildings ;" that is, as I understand, the entire church. If anything could be said more in vindication of this strange assumption, it is, " that it was done with proper caution, and with the consent of the descendants of the founders." It would afford some consolation, however, to us, who express our sorrow on this occasion, to be told who are the present descendants of the Hungerford family, and who of a Beauchamp* a bishop in the days of popery and superstition ? If it were of any avail to prove by professional assurances the errors of the assertions of these improvers, that in consequence of the erection of the above small chapel, "buttresses, walls and columns were totally removed," etc., we need only refer to that invaluable work, one of the literary honours of the present times, Mr. Gough's "Sepul- chral Monuments," where (plate lxxi., vol. i.) is a view of the interior of the Hungerford Chapel, wherein it may be perceived that, in lieu of the " removed buttresses," so much talked about, that originally stood between the two windows on this side of Our Lady's Chapel, was thrown from a large columned architrave, equal, if not exceeding in size the present restored buttress, a large arch to another similar architrave uniting with the north wall of this small chapel. If the two windows of Our Lady's Chapel were " reduced," the less then their openings, and of course then more strength was given to this part of the church. We readily admit that the space below the windows was cut into in order to make a small doorway and an arch appertaining to the monument of Lord Hungerford ; which arch, according to the custom of erecting ancient sepulchres, was to admit his statue and funeral honours to lie visible to all in a situation dividing his own chapel and that hallowed part sacred to Our Lady; but from these apertures, surely, no real harm to the building could in any wise be apprehended. Mr. Gough's interior view of the Beau- champ Chapel, destroyed on a similar pretence, likewise shows that * P. Wyndham, Esq. New Sarum, or Salisbury. 211 every care was taken not to injure Our Lady's Chapel. Indeed, have not these two monumental memorials stood for more than two cen- turies (maugre their neglected state for want of necessary repairs) without any ill consequences accruing from their relative positions ? But this, I own, is a flimsy kind of reasoning, when weighed against the more solid arguments of improvement, brought forward to bear down ancient usage, the rites of sepulture, and Christian example. Our improvers have left on the wall of Our Lady's Chapel some traces of the Hungerford paintings, which, by consulting the copies taken before the innovations, in the " Sepulchral Monuments," may be in some measure understood. [1803, Part II, pp. 1020-1023.] The Interior. — It is really curious to observe that while Sir Chris- topher Wren and Mr. Price in their time, and our Salisbury im- provers at this hour, affect to admire this cathedral, and, by a certain combination of professional terms, seek to give celebrity to its beauties (which, by-the-bye, they never knew how to feel), in order that men might be brought to wonder for awhile; they catch at every trifling circumstance in this and that supposed imperfection in various parts of the structure, to wound and vilify the fair fame of the founders and architects of this so mighty a fane. Give me the man who, if he dare avow his predilection for an object, an object like this of Sarum's sacred walls, let him adhere to the cause he is disposed to maintain, without having the fear of being thought of a superstitious turn, or that his bias for the " heathen school " modes of science is whispered to be wavering. Let him not imagine that small chapels on the eastern sides of the transepts are deformities ; an original entrance into a choir in the wrong situation ; a choir itself in the way of a general view from west to east ; monuments of founders and patrons obstructing the look at some modern gewgaw piece of stained glass ; or that an altar and its screen standing between the choir and Lady Chapel is an abominable fence, to shut out the longitudinal course of architectural subjects in continuation, which subjects were raised for various religious purposes, and designed to be viewed separately, to answer those ends, and to give those effects, for which they were at first constructed. No ; let him behold all that Antiquity has left her venerating sons, as fitting, and in order due, transporting to the eye, and sacred to the touch, flying the beck of interest, which ever waits to lure from his constancy a follower of antiquity, by the specious cry of " Destruction is restoration," " In- novation is improvement," and, alas ! alas ! such character comes too late for Salisbury's better fate. " The deed is done ;" and we can but relate the marvels that have ensued. Well, our good friends at Westminster, Ely, Gloucester, Canterbury, Exeter, Wells, etc., let them attend ; and as they hear of things new and strange, 14—2 212 Architectural Innovation. ever and anon recall to their minds the divine charms of those yet unaltered piles they hold within their pious care. So to my task. With something more than common dread I entered into the nave, and found, to my inexpressible concern, that the major part of those tombs and monuments which till of late occupied the eastern part of the church had been removed, and placed on the general plinth of the edifice, supporting the columns and arches dividing the nave and side-aisles. In this sepulchral assortment confusion in architectural modes and funeral rites was most glaringly conspicuous ; so much so that, being anxious that futurity might not be imposed upon by false " guides " and fallacious panegyrists, I bore me through the un- pleasant labour of making particular notes of the innovating pranks played with the sacred repositories. Take them, therefore, in the following range, beginning at the east end of the south aisle of the nave ; and so in continuation to the west and up the north side of the nave, I comparing at the same time their condition with those sketches which were taken by me in 1781, before their present transposition. Tomb of Longspee, Earl of Salisbury, from the north side of Our Lady's Chapel. No particular mutilation. Bishop de la Wyle ; from the centre chapel in the north transept. This statue lay on a plain plinth under a low simple-arched recess, date 1274. It is now placed on a sort of altar-tomb, made up of the havocked upper parts of the canopies of the Hungerford monument, of the date 1459. Tomb of Lord Stourton, from the south side of Our Lady's Chapel. No particular mutilation. Robert Lord Hungerford, date 1459. The monument was erected on the north side of Our Lady's Chapel, having an arch in the centre looking into this and the Hungerford Chapel. The design was ex- ceedingly rich, being an altar-tomb bearing his statue, and over it the said arch ; a canopied roof, entablature with an inscription, etc. The present remains give the statue and the upper half of the altar- tomb, which is set on a common modern plinth, etc. For the disposure of some of the other parts of this monument, see the article " De la Wyle," etc. Bishop Beauchamp's tomb from the centre of his destroyed chapel, which was on the south side of Our Lady's Chapel. A common modern slab has been put on the top of this tomb. Tomb of Montecute, Earl of Salisbury, date . . . . ; from the north side of Our Lady's Chapel. Unhavocked on its south side, but its north side made up with fragments of the canopies of the Hunger- ford monument. Gravestone of Bishop Osmond ; from the centre of Our Lady's Chapel. In the present instance it has been laid on an altar-tomb, New Sarum, or Salisbury. 213 composed of various fragments of ancient masonry and modern common stone-work. Sir John Cheney. — The monument was very perfect, and stood at the south-west angle of the Beauchamp Chapel ; its parts were an aitar-tomb, whereon lay his statue, over which was a canopied roof, entablature, etc. The design was elaborate and finely executed. The remains, as they now are situated, give the altar-tomb and the statue thereon. The other statues, lying on gravestones in this part of the church, are in their pristine stations. Proceeding with the other innovations (adverting still to my 1781 sketches), I found that the monument of Bishop Blyth, which was set at the back of the altar-screen dividing the choir from Our Lady's Chapel, is now placed against the north wall of the first north transept, where the second porch was situated ; which porch has been removed into the grounds of Mr. Wyndham, as already mentioned. The six chapels, dedicated to as many saints, that filled the eastern sides of the two first transepts, have been totally obliterated. See their designations in the Rev. Mr. Milner's learned and spirited " Dissertation on the Modern Style of altering Ancient Cathedrals f noticed in vol. lxviii., pp. 1057, 1107. The space between the large clusters of columns, supporting the tower and spire, is a spot requiring the most serious consideration, from its critical affinity to every part of the structure. It appears that, from Sir Christopher's first survey until these improvements took place, the perpendicular state of the spire has been frequently proved, thereby to ascertain the safety of the general works — a useful and laudable trial : everything appears then, as we are taught to believe, in permanent security. Thus far all may be well ; but when, by looking up the lines of the clustered columns of the tower, we see them hang in distorted shapes, from the prodigious weight overhead ; when, in order to give those clusters some necessary aid, we see open screens (work of the Edwardian era) have been inserted within the north and south great arches ; and when we recollect that the late beautiful and appropriate screen entering into the choir, being of the style of the church itself, was incorporated into the basements of the north-east and south-east clusters of this tower, and that this screen has been demolished, and the said two basements cut into or worked on so as to assimilate them to the opposite two north-west and south-west clusters — can we feel ourselves happy in the thought that, for the sake of patching up a new screen of entrance into the ( hoir with some of the dilapidated parts of the Hungerford and Beauchamp chapels, etc., the real protection of the building has b^en in this respect but a negative or (to speak the best of it) a secondary consideration ? These men of taste and judgment, these improvers, were aston- 2I 4 Architectural Innovation. ished truly at the temerity and false skill of those who ventured to set architectural designs (Hungerford and Beauchamp chapels) of the fifteenth century against the main church, a work of the thirteenth century ; not only to endanger, as they were pleased to announce, the safety of the same, but to confound architectural symmetry in good truth ! Yet these minds, superior to ancient ability, effected far bolder strokes of art by cutting away certain portions of the base- ments of the great tower, and raising up, in lieu of the original one, a farrago choir entrance, with monumental fragments of the style of the fifteenth century! Penetration and propriety, how I admire your consistent acts ! The monuments on each side of the choir have sustained no innovation (though, as we are told, their removal, and of course dilapidation, was to have made a part of the great plan of improve- ment*); Bishop Poor's excepted, which is now reduced to the statue and the slab whereon it lay. This remain has been carried into the second north transept, and is raised on an altar-tomb, a piece-patch sepulchral apology, shoved into a corner, and put together from pieces of the inscription, frieze, and other havocked morsels of the Hungerford monument and chapel. Bishop Poor's monument, date 1237 (engraved as the frontispiece to Mr. Milner's " Dissertation" in the state it appeared in 1781), but ill agrees with these purloined accompaniments, or with its new situation, dragged out from the side of the choir near the late high altar, where it had rested for so many centuries, and on a spot the most fitting the founder of the holy temple ! Why, I pray, was this good and noble-minded pre- late's monument the only one thought needful to be doomed to so disgraceful a removal, of the many which surround the choir? Was its interior found insufficient to be converted into a pew, like the Audley and the opposite monument? Or did it stand in the way of opening the choir at this point, to give a view into architectural vistas and modern artificial obscurity ? or was it turned out for no other reason than this obvious one — the monument was the memorial of Bishop Poor, the founder of Salisbury Cathedral ? However, be the cause what it may, we find that not either the bishop's sepulchre could remain undisturbed, or his church remain from being improved. Among the spoils of the original choir-entrance stuck up in the second north transept is set also a most interesting baptistry, brought from the south-east angle of the second south transept, but for what purpose we are not informed ; and it can only be inferred that, so long as its proper station was reversed, the improvers went on with their work of architectural innovation. * " Sepulchral Monuments," vol. ii. New Sarum, or Salisbury. 2«5 [1803, Part Il.^pp. 1122-1124.] I next passed into the choir — a scene of transformation indeed ! I had been accustomed to contemplate here a far different order of things. Our professional Merlins have waved their wands to some purpose ; and all view, as their familiars invited me to believe, was to be given up to the momentary glance at an Eidophusicon show of the Resurrection filling the east window in that spot, late our Lady's Chapel, now the termination of the choir. To perfect this theatric spectacle, the woodwork of the choir is painted of a dark hue, the distant windows surrounding this choice transparency blackened over, and some of them nearly stopped up. When I had withdrawn my eyes from the redundancy of yellow light beaming from this ex- hibition, it was some time before subordinate subjects became visionary, which, when distinctly seen, came under my notice, as thus. The new work, making out the organ-case, its screen and gallery, the choir, stalls, bishop's throne, pulpit, etc., were half- drawn "imitations" of the Tudor mode, a mode entirely different from the architecture of the church, which represents the Norman or early pointed-arch manner. The above imitations are mixed also with the fanciful interpolations of carpenters and carvers, who, if they have or have not correct " working drawings " to guide their labour, will always foist in some whim of their own, by way of im- proving the same. It may be remarked that the groins to the canopies of the niches, in the Tudor mode, are always seen enriched to a degree with tracery and flowers, ever varying in their smaller lines, and making one of the principal characters in the works of that age. In the " imitations " before us, this circumstance has been overlooked, and the groins of the new canopies are left entirely plain. As I advanced eastward, after looking up on either side to lofty arches, galleries, windows and groins in this part of the church, I found myself constrained to dwell on the gloomy distance, as seen within the three western arches of the late Lady Chapel — " But of necessity I must go through My search of old things now made new."* Grand architectural terminations should have a uniformity in their several parts consonant to scientific harmony and true design ; not, when the mind is filled with capacious decorations, as are found on the walls which constituted the old choir, to behold the centrical point of view, after a total demolition of the original altar-screen, spun into three small oblong interstices, as a medium to exhibit a new " after-piece," an " ombre Gothique," truly exemplified in the present altar, driven into the very extremity of the building, and the painted window over it ; the one so circumscribed in dimensions * " Pursuits of Antiquaries " — MS. 2l6 Architechtral Innovation. and ornaments, so deprived of all light, and the other possessing so much of space and so much of light, that the clergy in the stalls of the choir are deprived in a manner both of hearing or seeing any divine celebration which may at times be going on at the altar placed in so remote and so obscure a situation. The screen of this new " altar in the shades " is a patched-up business, with more of the dilapidations of the Hungerford and Beauchamp chapels ; and the table itself is of stonework. I do not recollect at this instant if the ritual of the church specifies the Com- munion-table to be made other than of wood ; this, however, I well remember to have read, that altar-tables in the days of popery and superstition among us were particularly ordered to be wrought out of stone.* How answer you this, my masters ? The north and south sides of what was once Our Lady's Chapel, now the choir in dreary continuation, is made out on the dado parts below the " restored " windows, with still more (still and still there is enough) of the fragments of the aforesaid overthrown chapels, into recesses with convenient seats, etc. I was not gratified with the requisite in- formation why and wherefore these accommodations were set up. It was an invariable rule, both in small as well as large ancient religious buildings, to insert in the right or south walls, near the altar, one, three, or four seats in the niches or recesses for the use of the officiating clergy. The present collection of seats under dis- cussion are ten on each side the altar. From the excessive free use made of the remnants of the two poor chapels so often named in this survey, we may naturally be led to this conclusion : that they, the chapels as aforesaid, when in their state of unity with the exterior of Our Lady's Chapel, stood in such a "deformed" display of ill-adapted style, and "threatened" ruin round their contaminating bondstones;t yet, when uncoursed, broke, and with their ornaments thrown into confusion's depot, they have, by some strange transmutation, become objects worthy of regard, have been carefully sorted, new vamped, and in the interior of Our Lady's Chapel are now reset in chaste disposure, neither militating against the original finishings of the church, or in any wise boding ill from their new contact with walls which have so distant a connection with the great tower or spire or other unsuspected parts of the entire fabric. After traversing along the aisles for some time in painful mood, I reflected on my perverse opposition of sentiment, or different way of thinking, from those who with delight and satisfaction now sit down to ruminate in happy hour on what they have perfected for the architectural, monumental, and historical good of the cathedral, * " Archaeologia," vol. x., p. 318. Several ancient stone altar-tables are still remaining, as at Gloucester Cathedral, church at Hexham, etc. f Technical term for those stones uniting two separate walls together. New Sarum, or Salisbury. 2 1 7 instigated by the primary cause of setting off to advantage a painting on glass, which it may be no unprofitable talk to inquire how long such a performance may stand as the criterion of modern taste, even while the effervescence of "great improvements" plays around the phantasies of the admirers of something " new," and the souls of men obsequious to the opinions of the high and mighty. The detached particles of the original glazing of the windows left us from the fury of glass-breakers and glass-menders are replete with ornamental and historical subjects, " shedding a pale religious light " in a modest tone of colouring, in delicate foliage, elegant-formed compartments, and fine-drawn figures, the tints of which are as vivid and as fresh as when the ancient artist first dismissed them out of his ingenious hands. From this gaze of so charming a nature could I endure the large, ill-adapted, common geometrical divisions in squares, diamonds, diagonals, frets, etc., cut out from modern stained glass of plain colours, red, blue, and yellow, sold by the pound to furbish out the great west window, and others round the choir by artisans who, perhaps, never visited Salisbury Cathedral in their lives but to set up, when finished, their handiwork ? Impossible ! I mean in no wise to bring under this sort of disquisition the painted window from a design of the late celebrated Mortimer, seen at that elevation which once gave the end of the choir — a glazing bearing the charm of unaffected representation, and participating in that pure distribution of colours, light and shade, which so distinguish the inestimable morceaus of our ancient " glass-stainers," impervious to time, though perishable at the least motion of the hands of im- provers. In the sacristy, a room of some antiquarian account, I, with a real melancholy curiosity, looked over the several rings, chalices, pattens, etc., torn out of the sacred repositories of the dead, as they lay in Our Lady's Chapel, or elsewhere ; took sketches from them also. My patience bore with me thus far, having calmly submitted to go over the whole of this ecclesiastical specimen of church improvement. The spirit of a faithful narrator bore me along the vaulted fane, in the laudable hope that, by an open communication of what I saw and what I thought, certain " false impressions " made on the mind of the public, with regard to the architectural innovations here made, might in a certain degree be done away ; and at the same time convince my friends that I am still at my post of remonstrance, in order to guard against a system which was to have run through our other national works of the like magnitude and of the like importance as this one of Salisbury. I know not how it is, whether from the want of a ready concurrence in the universal plan, or a want of that most necessary incitement, a competent fund, the purpose is somewhat at a stand. But, ah ! this influence I so much dread, I fear me, but retires awhile into that chaos from whence it sprang, to brood on more 2i8 Architectural Innovation. effectual means, and to imbibe more vigour for a renewed onset. Ever on duty, let me keep a watchful eye over those possessors of the castellated glories of their ancestors who raise the "iron arm," or those guardians of our spired fanes who invite the innovating mattock. I have of late seen the beckoning hand in this way palsied ere it rose to that height necessary for a complete transition of the embattled tower into degenerate nothingness, or in power adequate, so as to consign a holy pile to the fate of a " truer restora- tion." Thus, what but yesterday was set about in hot determination, to-day (from some hidden purpose) sinks into indeterminate forbear- ance and sullen non-performance. May this suspensive impression become general, ever haunting the imagination of antiquity's foes, until the bare surmise of an architectural innovation becomes an offence both against genius and common-sense ! Gloucester. [1804, Part I., pp. 30, 31.] With much hilarity I prosecuted my pilgrimage as far as Gloucester, surveyed, as is my custom whenever I visit this city, the cathedral, partook of my usual enjoyment in looking over the noble work of the nave, the increasing and exuberant enrichments of the choir — its fretted roof, the heavenly choir thereon sculptured, the splendid east window, which, without a parallel, not only extends in width beyond the lines of the choir, but mounts, in one elevation, from the pavement to the very summit of the groins. The Chapel of Our Lady prolongs the scene of excellence, still more lavish of embellish- ments than the choir itself. Thus the refined arrangements are carried on, at first to elevate, then to astonish, and at last to impart excess of admiration. Notwithstanding the strong opposition made against any further publication of a series of engravings illustrating our cathedrals, yet the several plates relative to this grand structure are in a state of forwardness. Ross to Usk. Made the best of my way to Ross, passed by Goodrich Castle, rested a day at Monmouth, came to Ragland ; cast my attention once more on the castle — the fatal monument of enthusiastic loyalty. Its near neighbour, Usk Castle, had not so much interest with me ; a picturesque ruin certainly, and engaged my pencil for a short space. . . Caerleon. Well, I am in the precincts of Caerleon. Roman, ancient British renown, in regal pomp, in martial feats, in pride of arts, all stood revealed before me ; more, I must confess, by recollection of good old story than by memorials left. After much pleasing reverie, I Landaff. 219 walked over the site of this once-heroic place ; observed the amphi- theatre, the castle works, towers by the river, and remnant of the tower which guarded the pass of the river. Here, then, I turned my back on Caerleon, and soon came to Newport, where the first object that came under notice was the remaining east front of the castle. This front gives what the enemies of our antiquities so much condemn the want of in old structures, a regular and uniform mode of design, consisting of a principal work in the centre, inferior parts in continuation right and left, and at each ex- tremity lesser works, by way of wings, etc. In leaving this town somewhat in more speed than I wished, I could just discern in the High Street (evening approaching) some part of ancient buildings much enriched. [1804, Part I., pp. 125-127.] Being settled in my quarters at Cardiff, I walked over the pleasant meadows (distance two miles) to Landaff. This town, like its cathedral, shows but as shadows departing in the track of devastation. How true it is, when a mighty religious fabric is suffered to lead the way into the wilds of insignificance, each dependent habitation follows also ! As the guardian of the one goes far away, the sojourner in the other flies to some new region ; and dilapidation, alteration, and a state of ruin, become the destiny both of the spired fane and the roof of busy occupation. Some two or three good modern houses were sprinkled here and there, and appeared creditably inhabited. Many remnant buildings of a very ancient date were seen, either totally deserted, or converted into granaries, sties, or laystalls. The gateway leading to the bishop's palace is a simple erection, though worthy attention. A long line of wall overhanging the fosse, and parts of a room of large dimensions (suppose the great hall), were the leavings of the ancient sacerdotal dwelling. The present palace for the diocesan is what is termed a country villa, built, it may be, about seventy years ago. Its look was something forlorn. The situation of the cathedral is uncommon, being at the foot of a steep declivity, whereon some of the houses of the town are standing ; so that it is hardly possible to obtain a good view of the fine west front. Some material change must have taken place in the face of the ground on this spot since the original architects finished their work, as it is not reasonable to surmise they drove this principal feature of 220 Architectural Innovation. the design into a cranny ; the north and east fronts being on level ground, open to the sight, and to the adjacent lands. Opposite to the east front are the rubble portions of a gateway having a connection by a scattered line of wall to the palace. Being thus busily engaged in observing these particulars, fondly imagining that my employ was laudable, and forgetting at the same time that I was not in my own country, "England," two personages rudely interrupted me — protectors of the place, no doubt — as they with fiery eyes and menacing actions demanded "why, wherefore, and for what purpose, a foreigner like me haunted thus their sepulchral confine, after having pried over the whole town in a manner unusual, and not to be accounted for." Without the least hesitation I answered, "That having heard in England, where I was born, of the extraordinary remains of ancient architecture, religious as well as civil, in this their delightful and renowned land, where health-inspiring mountains and cordial hospitality were ever ready to welcome the curious stranger, I had travelled me thus far to witness." Here my inquisitors took their leave in all haste, satisfied with my answer, it was natural to conclude ; I therefore continued my agreeable investigation. Finding the church door open, which led into the south aisle of the choir, I entered ; when, after walking about for some time, I made ready my pencil and papers, my roll of items to be sketched, and so forth. My position was at the east end of the choir, whence I could take in the whole line of the choir, that part of the nave in repair, and that in ruins ; the west door of the former being left open like the other just mentioned. ... I now commenced my business in earnest, and continued on the same for several days without the smallest molestation. Thus freed from anxious care, I gave myself up to the pleasing task, returning to and from Cardiff each morning and evening, till my survey was completed. The particulars are as follow : Plan of the Cathedral. — It has gone through much havoc and curtailment. The first four divisions of the nave are in ruins ; and the south tower of the west front (no doubt correspondent to that standing on the north) is wholly gone. So completely is every trace done away of the two transepts, that not any opinion can be had at what precise part they were affixed. The present modern west front is run up at the fifth division of the nave ; and between it and the choir are left two more divisions of the nave. The choir, which is transformed into a complete modern Ionic temple, continues to Our Lady's Chapel, bounded with north and south aisles (partly of the old work and partly of the new) in continued lines. The Lady Chapel has not been trampled on by innovation. On the south side of the church is a curious vestry, unaltered either externally or internally as far as the tops of the windows and groins, whereon has been erected a modern office appertaining to the church. There are not any lines Landaff. 221 to point out the cloisters, chapter-house, or other buildings constituting the general plan of a cathedral. West Front. — Could not learn at what stated time the edifice was brought to the condition in which it presents itself. If we may infer from the modern work introduced, it must have been about sixty years ago ; but as to the demolitions, whether they were done at the same hour of improvement, that is by no means to be ascertained. Those ancient parts left to stand or fall, as it may be, are of the first class of architectural consequence ; the style is the early pointed, and exceeding rich. The west door has a double entrance (the usual feature in this first emancipation from the Saxon order), and what is observable, though there are two semicircular headways, there never was a column to support them ; the semis being perfected by a prepara- tion for a perpendicular ox-eyed niche, wherein is the statue of the founder of the church, in his episcopal robes, his feet being supported by two dogs placed on the said preparation. The story over this doorway is formed by the great west window. "Three in one" (that is, three windows in one), without mullions or tracery. The second tier, or story, contains only one small window in the centre, having on each side three declining headed recesses. The pediment, or front of the roof, here takes place, in the point of which is a statue seated, with a book in the left hand ; the right hand is giving the benediction. On the head a crown surrounded by a glory. The tower on the north part of this front is massive, of considerable dimensions, and in a mode subsequent to that of the main front itself. The corresponding tower on the south part, as already noticed, is destroyed. The detail of mouldings, ornaments, etc., to this front is very interesting. [1804, Part I., pp. 215, 216.] South Front. — In this range, taking the line from west to east, we see the ruins of the first four divisions of the nave, where is the south entrance, and which is well preserved ; the work is Saxon, and very rich. The windows to the aisle of the nave in use are unaltered. The lower part of the vestry unaltered, while the upper part is of modern construction, and occupied as an office to the church. Windows and door of the aisle of the choir entirely modern work. Our Lady's Chapel unaltered, and is a beautiful design. The upper part of the choir is wholly of modern work, with a common pediment roof, dripping eaves, etc. The east front of Our Lady's Chapel, unaltered. North Front of the Church. — Remains in much the same condition as the south front; and in the ruined divisions westward is another rich Saxon entrance, correspondent to the one mentioned on the south side. Section from West to East. — Cutting through the west front, the 222 Architectural Innovation. interior ruins of the four divisions of the nave come on the view, the remaining work excellent, and well proportioned ; the pillars, a union of many columns and mouldings, which together continue in sweeps to form the arches springing from each of the clusters. The south side of the north tower of the west front makes a conspicuous show at this point. Cutting through the modern west front at the fifth division of the nave, two more of the divisions appear, and in the best order possible. They give a kind of small nave, or introduction to the choir. The choir itself is lost in modern Ionic columns, entablatures, pediments, circular-headed windows, truss corbels, and Pantheon groins. Among these decorations are a sort of choir stalls, a bishop's throne, and a high altar. This latter object is composed after the manner of a garden pavilion, with double rows of columns, coved roof, and a balustrade. Quitting this incongruous arrange- ment, we pass into Our Lady's Chapel ; where, if disgust possessed us in the choir, here every line affords that complete satisfaction which our ancient architecture ever inspires. The elevation lofty, the groins airy, the embellishments light, though simple in their application ; and it may be observed that, upon the whole, the design conveys much instruction in the search after the knowledge of what is termed the sublime and beautiful. The altar-screen is an elegant performance. Sepulchral Memorials in the North Aisle. — A grave-stone raised above the pavement, whereon is an ornamented cross, and on the left ground of the sculpture is the head of a religious ; the edge has an inscription. A rich monument of a bishop, the statue well pre- served ; at the back of the design is a shield with the instruments of the Passion. The variety of allegories in this carving are very curious ; and in the soffit of the arch is the figure of our Lord riding out of the sepulchre. A monument with much work, and un- common j the statue of the deceased appears as copied after death ; and the greater part of the winding-sheet being thrown back, the naked state of the figure is particularly expressed. Tradition gives it as the effigies of some unhappy maid who died for love ! Is female truth and constancy alone to be commemorated? shall not man suffer under the like miserable star? Are there no false fair ones who, while they fanned the ardour of a faithful admirer, were brood- ing in their minds how they might deceive, betray ; how they might trample on a heart which they had warmed, and riot in the ruin which they had meditated? The statue of a knight in superb armour, laid on a tomb devoid of compartments, shields, or any embellishment whatever. Monument of a knight and his lady ; the masonry and sculpture of the statues and ornaments are in the finest style, extremely rich, and well preserved. The arch under which the statues are laid is of the open kind, whereby a view is had from the aisle into Our Lady's Chapel. A tomb, the work rather plain, Landaff. 223 bearing the statues of two bishops. A basso-relievo placed against the wall, of our Lord rising out of the sepulchre, surrounded by the instruments of the Passion. Sepulchral Memorials in the South Aisle. — Monument of a lady, correspondent in situation with that of the knight and lady in the north aisle. The masonry shows little more than a simple arch with two mouldings ; the tomb part bearing the statue is quite plain. The arch appears stopped up, from affording a view into Our Lady's Chapel. The statue is beautifully formed, and in graceful robes. The statue of a bishop laid in the pavement, of simple sculpture. A gravestone ; the head of a religious is carved near the top. The Interior of the Vestry. — A scene truly congenial to the imagi- nations of those who love to dwell on the impressive room decora- tions of past times. The plan is a square, a column in the centre supporting four divisions of groins ; six long and narrow windows, a continued line of seat against the wall, with panelling behind ; curious chests, etc. The mode of finishing the work very simple, and of an early date ; the parts are in good proportion, and accordant one to the other. In a corner of this room are thrown by the disunited particulars of a most interesting monument, as the statues of a knight and a lady, the several sides of the tomb on which they were laid ; these sides are full of small statues of relatives, shields, inscriptions, mouldings, ornaments, etc. Cardiff. [1804, Part pp. 324-326.] The castle is on the magnificent scale ; the west front is the most conspicuous part, having in the centre a large noble and octangular tower : there are about this front, however, several modern introduc- tions of windows, etc. The other fronts show not anything of con- sequence, except the gate of entrance on the south, where, in a tower belonging to it, they say the unfortunate Duke Robert, son to William the Conqueror, was confined. This traditional piece of history I cannot give in to, rather supposing the tower in the west front, more than a part of the common entrance-gate, to have been the fatal confine. The church is large, and contains many decora- tions ; the west tower is lofty, and crowned by open-worked battle- ments and pinnacles. The south-west angular buttress to this tower shows towards its base what may be termed a masterpiece of masonry, as it is entirely supported on the point of an arch belong- ing to a moderate-sized doorway, giving the pass through a wall at this point. When it is considered, the many tons weight of stone resting on, to all appearance, so slender a bearing, and that the sweeps of the arch and the materials are not in the least affected by the length of time they have endured, admiration and praise must await the memory of our old professional men. 224 A rchitectural Innovation. Cowbridge. Quitting Cardiff, I, poor pilgrim, trudged on, with melancholy step and slow, ever lighting on, in this village, or in some lone situation, ancient stone habitations, much decorated and well designed. At Cowbridge are the vestiges of ancient walls ; indeed, the place came on my ideas as having at this day scarcely recovered from some hostile devastation. Not being able to throw from me this mental impulse, that the town was lying under the frowns of Fortune, I passed on, and in my way to Llantwitt, at a short distance from Cow- bridge, came to a large gate of entrance, as appertaining to some extensive castle; yet for such an object I looked in vain. On. Encountered an ancient mansion of some account, having the greater part of the original doorways, windows, buttresses, etc., left in good order ; at which I gazed awhile, and then continued my measured way until I came to Llantwitt. In the churchyard are some memorials of the highest antiquity, being a kind of crosses, or pyramidical stones, full of inscriptions, or ornamental and geometrical forms made up by entwined bands, etc. They are five in number ; one shows a circular, and the others straight faces. Their heights are from 7 to 8 feet. In the body of the church are two tombs, one bearing a male statue in a civil dress, and the other expressing more the resemblance of an elevated stone coffin than otherwise : it is much ornamented, and a head sculptured near the top, seeming as though the deceased continued still to see and to be seen, to witness the offices of religion, and to remind his surviving friends that to such a condition they must come at last — yes, at last ! Either through the common course of nature by a gradual decay in the arms of relatives, or by some unforeseen pre- mature stroke, aimed by malignant enemies, fall into the dark abyss of Fate, unpitied, and without one kind hand to close their dying eyes ! Treachery does not pervade everywhere. No, this little spot, this Llantwitt, was a blissful place ; each eve beamed welcome, and each arm was stretched forth in hospitable aid to further my imitative purpose. ... I am on my way to Ewenny. I hailed the sacred walls of this Priory Ewenny, and exclaimed, I behold thee in the very moment when thou art about to lose some of thy "time-revered honours." Already is your southern boundary falling beneath the mattock ; your porches, halls, chambers, galleries, are waiting their final overthrow, even while the modern staircases, Ewenny. 225 saloons and drawing-rooms are rising on their blasted sites ! Quick let me note particulars. A wall of great extent, with square and round towers at the several angles and gates of entrance, surround- ing pleasure-grounds ; first, second and third courts ; offices of all descriptions, grand chambers, etc.; the site of the cloisters, the church, etc. The approach to the western aspect of the buildings is picturesque to a degree ; and the more so when a combination is beheld of embattled security and cloistered seclusion. The scene was uncommonly interesting, as I never witnessed so complete a remain of monastic arrangement, unassaulted by the near approach of hovels and other low mechanic erections, as is too generally the case with many of our most consequential ancient structures. The nearer I advanced, the more intelligible every object appeared. I passed in at the north gate, large and stately ; crossed the first court to the opposite gateway, being the south gate, a design equally good with the other. Examined the interior of the towers at the angles of the walls ; which were curious, and contained much professional information. A large building, running north and south (in ruins), perhaps was the great or common hall to the priory ; and near it a grand porch (in ruins) leading to the site of the cloisters. There is not the least trace of the cloisters themselves. From the west side of this situation an excellent view is had of the south side of the church, and on the right the hall belonging to the principal part of the priory habitations. The plan of the church gives the nave, north aisle of ditto, centre tower between the two transepts, and the choir. On each side of the choir are groined aisles in ruins. The external and internal elevations are in the Saxon style, and of very simple work ; yet there are many peculiar beauties in the lines not to be met with in other buildings of so remote a taste. The entrance into the choir is striking, and conveys many awful impressions. The nave has been converted into a parish church, and the west arch of the centre tower filled in, so as to give an eastern termination, against which the Communion-table is placed. The filling-in is of some duration, as on the stone facing is a painting of the head of an armed knight ; the form of the helmet is of Elizabeth's reign. In the south transept is a kind of double tomb, bearing a gravestone with an inscription and cross, and by it an armed knight. On the north side of the choir is a raised gravestone, or tomb, with an in- scription and a rich ornamented cross. The sculpture is very fine, and the memorial it conveys quite distinct and intelligible. Here are also many other tombs, but of modern setting-up. The work of the church, and of the two first-mentioned tombs, is of the time of the Conquest. To mention the condition of the edifice would be to combine all the thoughts given way to in the course of these essays on such occasions ; let us, however, observe that the roofs in the transepts are falling in, their windows and those of the choir VOL. X. 15 226 Architectural Innovation. unglazed, and in a manner overgrown with ivy. The apparent neglect in every part, the accumulation of rubbish, and the real gloom around, drove me from these ruinous walls, which to me at least imparted many a desponding thought. Margam. [1804, Part I., pp. 429-431-] At the entrance of this village are two crosses of the same antiquity as those described at Llantwitt, laid together, and forming a foot-bridge over a small rivulet. These crosses bear some simple ornaments, with inscriptions, etc. On the north side of the village rises a prodigious mountain, thick set with spreading oaks and other wide overshadowing trees, inclosing in their bosoms a ruinated chapel, known by the name of "The Chapel of Notre Dame du Boir." In climbing the ascent to this sequestered remain, the path was impeded by the branches issuing from trunks, whose fantastic shapes seemed to mock my painful toil ; and as the ruffled gales disturbed each leafy treasure, low hollow murmurs rose from out their mossy stems. . . . In a street in the midst of the village leading to the abbey church is the greater part of another very ancient cross, enriched in the most elaborate manner, with entwined bands, Golcoche, human heads, etc. This piece of antiquity consists of a pedestal, in which is fixed a part of the shaft of the cross, finishing with a circular head. The work is well preserved. In the churchyard a fourth cross, but of inferior work, is to be noted, with an inscription and some indication of ornaments in the head of the design. Much of this cross is buried in the ground. In a garden on the south side of the church a fifth cross is set up for inspection, very much enriched, though not so perfect in regard to its lines, they being much mutilated ; it bears an inscription. Plan of the Abbey. — This presents the site of the cloisters, which are on the south side of the church, where many of the interior arches and springings of the groins are still to be seen against the south wall of the nave. On the east side of the site of the cloisters is the chapter-house, with a grand double introductory avenue or cloister leading into it, and into the south transept of the church also. If ever truth in architectural design, proportion or symmetry of parts were made evident where not anything is too profusely charged or too simply set forth, here most assuredly stands a model of all that is desirable in the noble science. The form of the chapter-house is an octagon, with plain buttresses at each angle. The windows have columns on the sides, supporting architraves round each head. Internally, the angles give at a certain height clustered columns, supporting groins, which here took their springing, Margam. 227 and then descended to take their second support from a cluster of columns in the centre of the room. The work of the windows shows a repetition of what is on the exterior. The entrance to this charm- ing building is on the west side of the octagon through three noble arches. The style is in the early pointed manner. With infinite concern it is to be told that within these two years, from what particular cause is not known, the centre cluster of columns gave way, whereby this support and the crown of masonry, the groins, tumbled into one heap of ruins, in which condition they still remain, and as such I beheld them with sore regret and lamentation. At about 70 feet distance southward is a part of a groined crypt, appearing as the basement story to the refectory. The nave of the church is not entirely complete, that part towards the east being patched up as a chancel, where is placed the Communion-table. The east end of the south aisle of the nave is partitioned off into a small sepulchral chapel, in which are many superb tombs with statues, set up during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The north transept is utterly destroyed, while the south transept and choir are left complete ruins, they giving a few bases of clustered columns, some scattered walls with a few windows, a doorway, etc. The modes of architecture, whereby the structure may be dis tinguished, are these : the western part, or nave, is Saxon, and the transepts and choir the early pointed manner. The elevation of the west front, particularly in the doorway and windows, is much enriched. In this front there is so much of the excellent that great praise and minute description might be lavished ; but thus much shall suffice. The elevation of the interior of the nave declines in decoration, and the arches on each side are divided by piers of the plainest masonry, having no more than a common plinth moulding and an impost ; there are no mouldings by way of archi- trave to the arches. The windows give only side splays and arched heads, and a block cornice finishes the upright. To a mind desirous to restore the honours of these Saxon remains to their original seeming (as many particulars of the nave have been done away, and some alterations made at the east end, as already mentioned) — how easy a task would it be to point out to such a one how the west front might once more be revived in its pristine dressings, how each side of the nave, externally and internally, might be brought into that order so as to emulate the first architect's hand who wrought them into consequence ! We shall urge no more * others must thus see, indeed, must thus feel like a fervent antiquary, ere command comes forth to restoration, true and faithful. As the eastern remains of the church are so wholly deranged, all attempts at the restorative must be for ever forbid ; a more picturesque relic here lying in its few bright particles than its loss could ever be recompensed in any ineffectual attempt by modern 15—2 228 Architectural Innovation. hands to rear up something new. I must not neglect to observe that in the chancel are, in a manner thrown by, some fine stall-seats, belonging once, no doubt, to the choir. In the ruins are many grave-stones dispersed about, carved with crosses, keys, spears, swords, etc. Leaving Margam, I turned me back with reluctant gaze at quitting a place so dear ; dear to me, as I was suffered to perfect my task un- molested. One sweet calm prevailed, attended by encouragement the most gratifying, in a friendly attention from those whom it will be my pride ever to think on with satisfaction and respect. A clear and ambient air I leave, and pestilential vapours, smoke, and noxious mists now assail me as I forward march. Baleful invita- tion to proceed ! The horizon once more begins to be discernible, and I see before me the town of Neath, dark and sulphureous. The ground was covered with a black dust, which, like the passing natives, I strove not to behold, and kept a middle way between the wretched hovels and their attendant accumulations, as though some dire con- tamination awaited my perilous passage. . . . Neath Abbey. Ye powers ! how horrid, how infernal was all before me ! Deep in the very centre of the sacred walls were set the furnaces wherein the poisonous ore becomes a prey to fusion. What dreadful crash of mighty engines ! what oaths, what imprecations ! With flames and smoke the scene was filled, the sad prototype of that place of "outer darkness " which the wicked alone must know. A bell is tolled, and see, the brotherhood comes forth. Their vestments are sable, it is true, their visages pale and wan, but not through the austerities of religious observances, as of the old sojourners in this devoted ground, but through the rage of heat, metallic effluvia, and ungovernable inebriety. What a disorderly procession is pressing on, wild and ungovernable, noisy and tumultuous ! Ha ! was it so in former days, when solemn pomp drew on the pious throng to tread these paths among ? Standing within the verge of the grand gateway to the abbey, an absolute ruin, alike bearing the marks of pestiferous exhalations, I found it impossible to approach the abbey; I therefore noted down from this station these remarks. The walls came on my sight as making out the cloisters, nave, choir, the abbey buildings, etc. The architecture is in the pointed style ; the structures lofty, and the decorations grand ; yet all unroofed, despoiled, and left a prey to the present race of inmates, unknowing where they tread, on whom they tread ! Caermarthen. 229 [1804, Part I., pp. 508-511.] In a field on the right some objects caught my attention, in a spot not very familiar to me, which was a statue lying on the ground, and an elevated cross at its head. On near inspection I found the cross modern, and the statue ancient, being the effigies of a religious, holding in the right hand the model of a church. This statue was very perfect, and finely executed, and I concluded had been brought from the wreck of the neighbouring abbey in order to its preservation. But was the bare ground a situation becoming such a relic ? was there no outhouse, hall, or cabinet, in the adjoining mansion, to deposit therein this poor remnant of departed holiness ? . . . Caermarthen. The little time I sojourned at this place gave no opportunity to inspect the remains of the castle, and all knowledge of its state is derived from beholding the walls as I sat in mine inn. Suspicion so waylaid me on every side that, as I am at a general confession, be it known, I absolutely thought if once I entered the enclosure (used as the prison of the town) its harsh grating doors might close on me never to return (that is, not in haste). The castle, then (help me, recollection!), consists of little more than the outer walls, and here and there a few scattered towers. That part for the confinement of prisoners, modern. (Thus much will serve.) This look-out was on my right ; before me a scene peculiar to the spot, and I believe nothing can be held to compare with such wildness and singularity ; a vast level plain, whereon was strewed, as by some wily spell, a thousand misshapen tumuli, unconnected one with the other, in size mountainous, a very dance of giant barrows thrown into positions immovable. . . . Priory Church. — This once famous church is wholly modernized ; all the monuments of the princes of South Wales in the choir, except one, have been beat up for plastering the walls, etc. In vain I sighed : the solitary remaining tomb warned me that it was well it was no worse ; one memorial existing to prove the splendour of the rest. How stands the account ? A tomb full of niches containing small statues of saints, knights, and ladies fair, with large circular compartments wrought with tracery, surrounding shields of arms, etc. On the tomb lies a large statue of one of the princes of South Wales, a good sculpture, and tolerably well preserved. The statue is in armour, and a rich robe depends from the shoulders to the feet. The head rests on a shield, which supports a helmet placed front- ways ; this is a very uncommon circumstance, as all, or most, of the helmets on tombs supporting the heads of warriors are laid sideways. The feet of the figure rest on a lion. By the side of this prince is a diminutive statue of a female. This association is certainly of modern 230 Architectural Innovation. bringing about, as neither the workmanship, nor the mode of dress of the lady, agrees in any sort with the time it is conjectured the statue of the knight was wrought, which was in Henry VI.'s reign. Narbeth. Overwearied with my travel, I sought to tarry awhile at this place, to recruit my spirits, and reinstate them in their due order. Rising early in the morning to catch the gentle breeze, I came into the lines of the remnant castle. All eyes were gone, none heeded, and I stole (good stars ! how patient I take things !) a view of the ruins. At every line I sketched I turned me round to see if all was safe and free from harm. Again I sketched, and, with fear and trembling, put a finish to my imitation. In Wales, an ancient castle and a prison, at this time, appeared to me synonymous terms ; to be a stranger, and in dungeon deep, was one and the same thing. Prisons in Wales ! what are they ?* The Castle. — As a picturesque scene it really appears with much effect. My sketch took in the centre a large circular tower, on the left a fragment of a wall, over which grew up, as it were, two or three lofty stories, with doors, windows, etc. ; this portion of masonry in width had not many feet to boast of. On the right of the central tower ran more wall, and the havocked shells of two other circular towers. On setting out to my next stage, an uncouth mortal, in rough accents, demanded where I was going. "To Tenby," I answered. " Forbear," he returned, " to proceed ; two formidable bodies of men prepare, this hour, for combat ; the prize of victory, which is given by a noble lord hard by (his son this day coming of age), is a roasted ox. It is expected that several men will prove victims to the desperate struggle, and many return home maimed and bruised. You, sir, who seem not of this country, had better delay your journey till the morrow, when the peace of the place will be restored." Hesitating at this information, he continued : " Proceed, then, if you doubt my good intentions in warning you of danger, by your falling, to a certainty, into the hands of one party or the other ; go on, then, and take the consequence." Not being much intimidated at things of this nature, I determined to dare the worst ; so forth I went, well prepared with store of courage (such as it was), and a fixed resolve to prosecute my pilgrimage ; the very essence of a pilgrimage being made up with alarms, terrors, despair, hope, victory, or death ! However, nothing of all this came to pass ; and I made my entry into Tenby in as orderly and peaceable a manner as ever one of our ancient recluses entered into the precincts of his monastery. So much for the vanity of my Welsh friend's intelligence of the disorders * See some late papers on this subject in Mr. Urban's far-famed " Miscellany." Tenby. 231 here prevailing ; some end to bring about he had most surely, though to me unfathomable : we will think no more on this. Tenby. The Castle. — Not being desirous, for reasons already adduced, to take any view of this truly romantic remain, I shall write from recollection, and observe that the situation and several parts of walls, towers, and arches, overhanging the rocks whereon they stand, the pass into the castle, etc., altogether, combined a sight the most tremendous, and, at the same time, the most enchanting. Remaining for some time on the strand between the castle on one hand, and the walls and shells of grand buildings erected on the craggy precipice on the other, each sublime portion of nature and of art striding, as it were, to meet the Chapel Rock, rising at a short distance out of the sea, I fully conceived all the glory, all the heroic deeds, that marked the days of our ancestors. My train of thinking was elevated above the usual level, and I became lost to common occurrences, until the shades of night, and the moisture of the briny element, compelled me to seek another scene more suitable to he general habits of life. The Church. — Among the particulars on the exterior are some very remarkable doorways, with inscriptions in their architraves, and arms, and other devices in the spandrils of the arches. One door- way is most uncommon, being so made out by the lines of the headway that, although the first or inner sweep of the arch is an inverted sweep, or ogee, yet the succeeding lines, by a very curious transition, revert into a treble sweep, with a pointed one in the centre. The Interior of the Church. — In the north aisle is a monument with a rich pedimented arch and panelled tomb, bearing the form of the deceased as at the point of death, naked, and with a winding- sheet partly thrown over the body. Near this is another rich monu- ment, with an arch of five turns, or sweeps : on the tomb part is laid a beautiful statue of a female. On the south side of the chancel is a tomb worthy of the utmost attention, although from some appear- ance in the work it may be apprehended there has been a junction of two separate tombs. However, take the tomb as it now stands ; it bears the statues of two citizens in their robes, their caps thrown over their shoulders, with purses at the girdles, etc. One statue is placed at the feet of the other. On the south side of this tomb are eight basso-relievos, sculptured in the most exquisite manner by a hand that would do credit to any school, ancient or modern, pagan or Christian. Under this latter influence, it must be owned, in the fifteenth century they owe their composition. Basso-relievos : 1. Two females (mother and daughter) kneeling at the feet of a bishop. 2. Two females (ditto) kneeling at the feet of St. Catherine. 3. Six 232 A rchitectural Innovation. males (father and five sons) kneeling at an altar. 4. A tomb in miniature, the compartments on the side left open to show three deceased persons therein. 5. Three females (mother and two daughters) kneeling at the feet of St. John the Evangelist. 6. Two females (ditto) kneeling at the feet of St. John the Baptist. 7. Seven males (father and six sons) kneeling. 8. Tomb, like the former one, showing the figures of three deceased persons. Before I leave the sacred edifice, let me do honour to the memory of a late reverend divine, to whose attention and patronage I owe the first insight and encouragement to follow the study of antiquity, by inserting an inscription from a neat modern mural monument, set up by him, my kind patron, in this church, as a memorial of his parents' virtues and patriotism. " To the memory of Roger Lort, Esq., youngest son of George Lort, of Pickeston, in this county, Esq., who being Major of the regiment of Loyal Welsh Fusileers, was killed at the Battle of Fontenoy, near Lisle, a.d. 1745, aged 51. During a long residence in this town he discharged all the duties of a good husband, father, master, friend, and magistrate, and united in this character the various excellencies of the soldier, the gentleman, and the Christian. Also to the memory of Ann his wife, only child of the Rev. Edward Jinkins, M.A., Vicar of Fareham in Hants, a pious, prudent, excellent woman, who died a.d. 1767, aged 69. They had six children, Michael, Roger, Ann, George, Edward, John, of whom the only survivor in 1 778, the Rev. Michael Lort, B.D., Fellow of Trinity College in Cambridge, erected this monument. The manners of the good people of Tenby are so benevolent, so full of that softness of disposition — in short, so like the kind hearts of those who address me in my own country — that I for the time forgot I was other than in Wiltshire, Devonshire, etc., where unsuspecting welcome and benign attention ever wait the curious traveller. Monorbeer. [1804, Part II., pp. 632-635.] The cordial attention I experienced at Tenby was not wholly done away at this place, being about three or four miles to the west j a poor village now, and found in some scattered huts inhabited by a few inoffensive people. What once marked the name of Monor- beer as famous may be gathered from the remains of the noble castle here standing, and standing in a state more entire than any I had noted during my progress. I speak of the external seeming, as it was not possible to gain admittance within the walls, no one dwelling therein. The situation of this castle was, as usual, romantic ; Monorbeer. 233 its west aspect bore towards the sea, which, it may be supposed, at times washes its imperishable foundations. . . . The castle in its external arrangement has a curious gate ot entrance, large square and round towers, with hanging turrets at the several angles of the works, battlements, cross loopholes, and others of a single opening. Little damage has been done to the general lines ; and we must presume the noble possessor, by the protection here evinced, has in mind the former great masters of this memorable spot, the relatives of the illustrious Giraldus, who, it is supposed, here first drew his breath. The church, in its exterior, is rather singular, from a tower which rises between the body of the building and the chancel. In the interior the architecture is after the pointed manner, and is simple in the extreme, giving, in most respects, piers and arches without plinths, capitals, mouldings, or ornaments of any kind. The vault of the roof is one pointed headway, without rib or other decoration. Notwithstanding all this simplicity in masonry, yet it was not without its charms, at least to me, who can receive as much gratification from an humble performance in this way as in a more elaborate work not presenting so much of the artless as the endeavour just spoken of. On the north side of the chancel, under a plain arch in the wall, is a plain tomb, also bearing the statue of one of the family (as it is generally understood) of Giraldus. The figure is in ring armour, with a few portions of plate armour on the knees and legs, such as was worn soon after the Conquest. The attitude is full of animation, the left arm holding the shield, while the right is drawing the sword. Considering the length of time this effigy has lain in its present position, the chance of sacrilegious rage, havoc from whitewashes' scaffold-poles, and the like, much surprise falls over us that it remains in such excellent condition, showing well the features of the countenance, the four bars on the shield, the ring-work of the armour, etc. Come, let us again presume the noble possessor above hinted at here also spreads his influence, being sensible of the fine sculpture, and alive to the sepulchral memorials of celebrated characters, whose revered names and exalted deeds will in a very short time once more swell the pages of history in a new and splendid dress, under the patronage of a disinterested mind, who in such an undertaking will do honour to antiquity, and set a just example for others in the same dignified sphere to bring forward more of our ancient relics of literature upon a similar laudable and praiseworthy plan. Departing out of the protection which surrounds dear Tenby in a kind circle of five or six miles, I, too, soon met with the reverse of fate ; the very untrodden roads, the barren fields, through which I peram- bulated to Carew Castle, frowned on me in sullen preparation towards my receiving again my portion of anxious dread and apprehension. 2 34 Architectural Innovation. Carew Castle. Not liking either to look at or hold conference with the people who assembled round me at my arrival here, I did but in a manner run over the castle, a mere ruin, and carrying on many parts the architecture of the seventeenth century, worked over the ancient lines, in order to give an improving aspect to the walls, according to the taste of that period. Opposite the east front of the castle is an entire Saxon cross, in high preservation, full of entwined bands, inscriptions, etc. This object imparted much satisfaction, as sculptures of this nature (such as those already described) are for the most part found in broken fragments. In the church are two statues laid on the stone seat of continuation ; one a knight, correspondent to that at Monorbeer, and the other a religious in his officiating habit. . . . Although many miles lay before me to St. David's, yet everything was dreary and uncomfortable ; few houses, and as for trees, it was with difficulty one could be discerned ; on the left the sea ; on the right a wide extensive plain with mountains in the distance. I came up at last to the remnant of a castle, placed on a piece of rock just sufficient to sustain the walls, and known by the name of Roch Castle. This basement for the building is rather remarkable, as no other rocky eminence is anywhere near to be met with. A curious story goes with this shell : the founder having on him the horrors of life, an untimely death, believed he should perish from the bite of an adder, and, in order to avoid this calamity, erected his dwelling thus on high, the perpendicular and smooth faces of which, he concluded, would prevent the crawling approaches of his poisonous adversary. This architectural precaution, however, did not save the unfortunate knight from the dreaded catastrophe, as will be shown in its proper place. St. David's. [1804, Part II. , pp. 735-737-1 So reduced is this city, both in the mansions and consequence of the inhabitants, so changed are these people from their ancient customs, so lost to such a character as that of a pilgrim, or so far forgetful that there still exists among them the shrine of their patron saint to attract the devotions of such a wanderer, that when I entered the High Street, which I forsooth took for a few straggling huts in the suburbs of so celebrated a place, I began to inquire the distance I had to go to my desired haven ; when I should meet with the wealthy and courteous citizens; and how soon I might expect to behold the lofty towers and spires of the splendid cathedral. I quickly found what a train of errors I had fallen into ; the renowned St. David's. 235 city had me then within its vortex ; the town's folk were honest, to be sure, but unintelligible, and barbarous in their receptions, and as for descrying the sacred piles, the hovels hid them entirely from my sight, or those only who might take their " walk " about the few poor streets remaining. Feeling most uncomfortable, a thousand doubts and surmises clinging round my heart, as I made my way into the inn, a shocking shelter for my fatigued body, though the host and his family had something of human kindness about them ; I concluded that little time was to be lost before I claimed the protection of the dignitary presiding over the holy piles sacred to St. David. . . . Reciting the cause of my visitation, he gave me full liberty to pursue my purpose, declaring he himself would conduct me to the several antiquities, and whatever assistance or comfort I might require I had but to name them, and he would procure the same. . . . The close surrounding the religious fabrics is in compass more than a mile, the encircling wall of which remains on many parts of the line : it was decorated with four grand gateways ; one still is left to the east, leading from the city, and a noble one it is, having two lofty towers and the entrance between them. Passing through this inlet, the scene opened in a most wonderful manner. Below lies the cathedral, and beyond the ruined walls of the Bishop's Palace peer upon the sight ; in the distance rise black and ragged mountains, altogether giving emotions that cannot be described, and which can never be obliterated from my imagination. After standing some time in this situation, I descended the steep of the churchyard, and commenced my labour by surveying The Bishop's Palace. A small stream divides this structure from the cathedral, and it is rather remarkable, the general plan (a regular square) is laid out in contradict line to that of the church, being fronted south-west, south- east, north-east, and north-west. The north-east front shows little more than the return of the south-east front and the entrance tower. The north-west front, nearly gone. North-east front, perfect. South- west front, perfect. I wish it to be understood in the present instance, that by the word " perfect " I mean the mere upright of the walls, as all the roofs, groins, or other covering overhead are utterly destroyed. The dimensions of the buildings are prodigious, the decorations superb, and show the early pointed style of architecture. Among the windows, which are lofty, and finely disposed, is a curious circular one, filled with rich mullions and tracery. The finishing line or parapet to the work is one of the most majestic decorations I ever witnessed, and it is to be remembered that there is but one other example of this sort to be met with in Wales (in England nothing of the kind exists), and that is at Swansea. This parapet is made out 236 Architextural Innovation. by a succession of arches supported by octangular columns, with ornamented capitals, etc. The arches are perforated, serving not only to impart an appearance of grandeur, but to admit of defensive operations in the same way as used in the interstices of battle- ments. Being now come into the great court, the scene at first appeared more than the work of mortal hands ; a visionary fabric drawn to the eye of a heated professionalist like me, whose mind is bound under the dominion of antiquity ; but I soon found it was reality, and I could not reconcile all I saw with the fantastic and common erections of modern times, raised in my native country, and constructed with plaster and other perishable materials, under the presumption that they adorn the land. On my left ran the Bishop's Hall and other apartments, staircase porch belonging thereto, etc. Before me, King John's Hall, Chapel, and a staircase porch communicating to these places likewise. The arcaded parapet is carried also round the walls of this court. The basement story, or crypt, is vaulted with curious groins, and shows many other architectural particulars appertaining to such a place ; but its condition is deplorable. The staircase porch to King John's Hall is an excellent design, and truly worthy to be con- sidered as a proper introductory work for the occasion on which it was erected, the reception of so great a sovereign. The archway of this porch has an inverted ogee sweep (rare example), and above it are niches with the statues of the king and his queen. A fine window and other decorations fill this part of the building. The hall is 96 feet by 33 feet, having at its south-west end the delightful circular window before described. The attached chapel gives many embellish- ments, as the holy-water niche on the right of the altar, parts of which altar are yet discernible, a rich window above the altar, etc. There are some fine chambers adjoining. The Bishop's Hall, 67 feet by 25 feet, has the great kitchen at one end, and at the other three or more extensive chambers. This kitchen, by what may be gathered from its present state, was, when perfect, a most curious construction ; the ground lines show an oblong square, 36 feet by 28 feet, which at a particular height takes a circular figure by means of groins springing from corbels, etc. We are told that there were four chimneys in the centre of the kitchen, the work of which communicated with the groins, they taking their course round it. From the prodigious masses of masonry lying in confused heaps, with nicely wrought funnels within them, the above information can well be credited ; and to those who may bestow some time in studying the design in order to conceive how it originally stood, that is, as far as masonry went, it must have been like unto a large groined chamber arching over to a cluster of columns in the centre, chapter -house-wise. At the conclusion of my notes and sketches of these buildings, I gave in to many an embittered reflection ; and, like the intelligent and St. David's. ^37 feeling author who has produced to the public of late his impartial sentiments on the state of St. David's,* I called to mind the former splendour of this palace, its princely entertainments, its sacred councils ; commented on the exalted minds of the episcopal founders, who raised up at a moment's notice, as it were, by saying, " Thus we will, and thus let it be," a range of apartments fit to contain a royal guest; and ruminated on the majesty of those who had here sojourned. Now, sad reverse ! the walls are unroofed, the chambers unprotected, and the crypt turned into receptacles for the most wretched therein to shelter them, who had, indeed, no other homes. Tell me of dungeons, horrid for the miserable maniac, or the unfortunate mendicant ; for criminals vile, or those left to undergo the sentence of the law; I go with the reciter, a man who seeks for human woes, to pity and relieve ; for here was much of this, and endured by those who had no other crime but that of being poor. To behold them crawling from out these desolated cells, hung round with damps and oozy vegetation ; the rising springs inundating their clay-cold beds ; and when the thunders roll and lightnings fly, the trembling super- structures threatening destruction on their devoted heads ! [1804, Part II., pp. 833-835.] The Cathedral. — The site of the cloisters is on the north side of the church, and the interior arches attached to the north and east walls remain perfect. It is not very clear how the south side of the cloisters, abutting against the north aisle of the church, made good their line, as no interior arches are discernible ; large perforated buttresses on this side, indeed, appear to have rendered the continu- ation of a south cloister utterly impracticable. The west wall of the cloister is nearly destroyed ; of course all trace of interior arches is annihilated. The wall of the north cloister constitutes the basement wall to the south side of the grand hall to St. Mary's College, built by John of Gaunt. The ascent into the hall is under the first story of a square tower (groined) at the west end, giving a most noble introduction into the hall itself. The windows are very lofty, and of large dimensions. This design is of the first class for elegance and true proportion ; and it may be observed that we, who are gratified at the view of an object like this, must find our satisfaction redoubled when it is understood the present protector of the sacred remains stretched forth his arm to save from further dilapidation, at a certain period, the greater part of this princely erection. Below the hall is a crypt, of a most curious construction, highly picturesque, and deserving of the utmost care and attention. The other relics of the college are visible in scattered walls, windows, etc. This pile being in a manner united to the church by its walls, we have introduced its description under the head of the cathedral. * " History and Antiquities of the Parish of St. David," by W. Mamby, Esq. 238 Architectural Innovation. Plan. — Taking the extreme length from west to east, the transepts stand nearly in the centre, between the two extremities, the nave and Lady Chapel. The porch is on the south side. The nave has two aisles ; in that on the north is a doorway leading without the site of the cloisters : this is a circumstance rather unusual, as in other great churches, Gloucester for instance, such a pass goes directly into the west cloister. The transepts show not anything remarkable. Over the entrance into the choir is the rood-loft complete, being divided by a wall ; one part for the nave, and the other for the choir. The screen supporting this rood-loft, next the nave, has, on either hand, altars (that is, their site), monuments, etc., an arrangement particu- larly detailed in the " Antiquities of Durham Cathedral" (but not existing there, or in any other church entirely so, as in the present instance). The choir has the original stalls, bishop's throne, and a decoration which, I believe, is seen in no other of our cathedrals, that is, an open screen immediately succeeding the stalls, and which runs across the choir. Beyond this screen the greater part of the choir is continued, containing tombs, monuments, high altar, etc. The north and south aisles of the choir are unroofed and in ruins ; yet not entirely so, as the surrounding walls and windows stand in tolerable order. Here are a profusion of tombs and monuments. On the side of the north aisle, under a building called the school, is a fine vaulted chapel, bearing the name of the chapter-house. On the side of the south aisle is a corresponding chapel, though ungroined and of an inferior design. Immediately behind the choir is Bishop Vaughan's chapel, the extreme length being north and south. At the east part of this chapel the aisles of the choir are carried round, and form an ante-chapel (groins perfect) entering into Our Lady's Chapel. This last chapel bears, as in most other examples, the usual fine longitudinal proportion west and east. The West Front of the Church, in its Present State, as lately rebuilt. — If the maxim is just, that "variety is charming," then in this front are brought forward awkward smatterings of many of the varied features that are to be met with in the long range of the cathedral ; a building bearing the signs of more than one or two ages, according to the time its erection was in hand, or alterations made at particular periods. In this new performance, perhaps reared up in the course of some three, six, or nine years, instead Of one uniform mode taken from a particular part of the main structure (supposing that the original front was not worthy of being imitated), we behold not anything that is chastely copied from the old work, or applied with judgment, so as to accord with the ancient manner of setting out the entrance-front of a religious structure. Whatever might have been the form of the original elevation, I am pretty certain this improved front has nothing to dread of being stigmatized with the appellation of being a servile copy. A " rhapsodist," like me, would, indeed, have St. David s. laid himself open to critical censure, and have been found "absurdly" drawing line for line, ornament for ornament, of the original, before demolitition (as its condition, it is said, rendered it necessary to lay all level with the earth); and have presumptuously boasted (flattering my idle imagination that I had been the builder) that my new elevation was as like the one " passed by," as a true architectural antiquary is like a man devoid of "taste," without "genius," and destitute of that first quality in professional men, " invention." Who does not know that taste gives birth to improvement, improve- ment gives scope to genius, and genius inspires the inventive faculties to strike out that which is new, that which is surprising, and that which makes the skill of old workmen show mean and con- temptible ? Now let us see what our modern architect has done ! He has carried out two kinds of towers many feet beyond the upright of the work, connected in a way entirely his own, with buttresses on each side of the centre window. A " composite " mixture of these towers and buttresses seems to give a finish to the south-west and north-west angles of the front. The doorway in the centre (we are not enabled to say that there were any side doorways before, entering into the side-aisles, as conveniences of this sort are dispensed with in the present elevation), as far as the headway goes, appears made so as to agree with the old finish in the interior; but all the rest of it is ridiculous beyond expression. The masonry of this arch, and the columns supporting it, are after your Saxon manner. Below this arch, to the top of the capitals, is a plain ground, whereon are laid, "across and athwart" (the most dignified emblems, when vulgarly represented, deserve a vulgar illustration), two crosiers, and a mitre "stuck" between them. This is a true modern piece of sculpture, a basso-relievo which in our antiquities cannot be paralleled. Next, by way of support to this tasteful performance, is introduced a second doorway, of the Tudor fashion, with a square and pointed head con- joined. The great west window, in its proportion and turn of the arch, seems guided by the old internal finishings, while the mullions and tracery are mostly of our ingenious architect's own creation ; who has, likewise, exploded the common method in every window from the Saxon to the Tudor era, of mullions and tracery receding from the face of the wall, by letting his dividing combinations of mouldings run "flush" with the upright, as is customary in all modern erections. Instead of long upright windows to the side- aisles, he has copied, as much as was necessary, from the circular- headed window (before itemed) in the adjoining palace. The pediment over the west window has a plain parapet ; but why is this, while the towered buttresses are bedecked with battlements? Be- tween the head of the great window and the point of the pediment is a cross loophole (a castle embellishment), after the refined manner of 240 Architectural Innovation. the Tavistock* " chaste " imitation of our ancient architecture. We have, perhaps, descended too much, in particularizing the features of this front, done according to the "fantastic order"; and it might have been better to have disregarded it altogether, were it not that from such trifling architectural offences greater violations of the like cast might in time totally disfigure the primitive beauties which mark the august fronts of our cathedrals and other churches. South Side of the Church. — At the western extremity is the return of the modern fantastic front. The nave, porch, and transept have passed through little injury or curtailment; the windows are ex- tremely good in their proportions and tracery, and a simple parapet terminates the height of the walls. The great tower in the centre of the building accords well with the rest of the design. The choir is in good condition, and carries on the general work, but gives a line of battlements. The walls of the aisle of the choir, with the outline of the windows, and the buttresses, are tolerably preserved ; but the battlements, roof, etc., are entirely done away. The situation of this cathedral is most uncommon, being in an ex- ceeding low spot, the ground rising on the south (the churchyard) nearly to the top of the great tower. Entirely so the town, which continues the ascent to a prodigious height ; that when any person stands in the High Street, the church, in a manner, is hid from his view. This circumstance has, indeed, already been commented on as peculiar to St. David's. The east end and north side of the church come in for nearly the same portion of description as the other elevations already gone over. The schoolroom over the chapter-house, indeed, occurs, which, how r ever, has no remarkables that need illustration. It may also be hinted that the north aisle of the nave presents large perforated buttresses, hindering, according to my observation above, the con- tinuation for a south cloister on this part of the building. [1804, Part II., pp. 929-93I-] The Interior. — The porch on the south side is the common entrance, where is found a very rich doorway. In the outer division of the architrave to the arch (which is pointed) is a succession of small statues. On the top of the arch are three larger statues ; the Deity in the centre, and on each side a kneeling figure. The architecture of the nave is in the Saxon taste, but of that peculiar kind which seems to be on the verge of transfusing or losing itself in the early pointed or English style ; indeed, the arches of the gallery over the side-aisles are pointed. The several architraves to the arches are filled with an infinity of varied diagonals, frets and foliage. The capitals have ornaments, and in the spandrils of the arches to the gallery are paterae differently enriched. The period of the * Tavistock Chapel, Tavistock Square. See vol. lxxii., pp. 409, 519. St. David's. 241 erection of the nave is, it is said, about our John's reign, a design full of grandeur and beauty. There are no groins, a rich open-worked timber roof of the Tudor mode giving the finish overhead. It may be concluded that, previous to the putting up of this roof, the original groins had been found in a ruinous state, and were then deemed necessary to be taken down, and the present woodwork substituted in their stead. The font, which is placed at the west end of the south aisle, is extremely simple ; the form, an octagon, and in the cants are plain pointed compartments. Near this font is a remnant piece of sculpture, long the puzzle of antiquaries in order to ascertain its original use and complete figure. Some denominate it the relic of a font, and others the sanctuary-seat or freed stool belonging to the church. Many do not hesitate to affirm that they can discover certain mystical characters wrought about the stone, demonstrating it to be part of a pagan altar. After all these conclusions, in my eye I beheld no more than the basement part of one of those circular columns or crosses common in the churchyards of this country, with entwined bands, frets, etc., like those described at Llantwitt and other places. With all due deference, however, I submit my conjectures on the subject to those opinions already abroad, and therefore continue my survey. Under the fifth arch from the west is the fine tomb of Bishop Morgan. His statue laid thereon is well preserved, except the nose and hands, the usual deprivations which nearly all our ancient statues have sustained. The nave being clogged up with the lumber of pews, the ends and sides of the tomb are in a manner hid from the sight ; but in taking down some of the surrounding seats, by permission of the dignitary, six statues were discovered on the north side, representing as many of the Apostles, a shield of arms at the west end, and at the east end a most exquisite basso-relievo of the Resurrection. The attitude of our Lord is very striking, and finely expressed. In the south aisle, and near to the foregoing tomb, is the monument of a religious. The statue lies under an arch of a singular shape, and is composed of four sides of a hexagon, which sides, instead of taking straight lines, have each a sweeping direction. We now come to the rood-loft, immediately before the west end of the choir. The supporting front belonging to it is, without exception, the most perfect work of the kind left. The high-wrought enrichments, the peculiar mode of the design, give the time which marks the glorious architectural era of our third Edward. In this charming performance are traced the same mouldings, ornaments, etc., as we were dazzled with in St. Stephen's Chapel, Westminster, before it became the object of late for unnecessary havoc and dilapidation. In the centre of this work is an archway leading into a porch, or introductory- avenue to the choir. On the left of the archway is the site of vol. x. 16 242 A rch itectu ral Innovation. an altar, with a screen of rich niches. On the right of the archway is another vestige of an altar with a screen, but of a different kind from that on the left, and of less dimensions. The continuation of the design on this side is made out by a large arch, within which is seen the tomb of the bishop who erected, I have no doubt, the superb design we are now so particularly describing. On the south return of the elevation is a still larger arch, admitting a view of the south side of the bishop's tomb, as well as those of two religious, ranging on either hand within the porch. Again, when we take our stand of observation within the porch, the exquisite architectural scenery is renewed by a varied view (supposing our position bearing towards the choir) of the two religious, left and right, and that of the bishop seen beyond the latter figure. Over the general entablature to the parts we have gone over runs a line of excessive rich panels, constituting the parapet to the loft.* On the south side of the north transept, which side is given by the back of the stalls of the choir abutting on this part of the plan, are the remains of a small chapel dedicated to St. Andrew, joint patron- saint with St. David to the church. Here is a good monument with the statue of a religious ; likewise a very simple tomb under a plain semicircular arch ; there is no statue. About these memorials are laid several fragments of basso-relievos, which, as I conjecture, once made out the sides of some tombs now destroyed. Among them is the Virgin offering the infant Jesus in the Temple. The attitudes of the figures are delicate and charming. There is likewise a statue of St. Andrew, with the diagonal cross held against his breast. In the north aisle of the choir we first notice the nearly-destroyed monument of a knight. The statue is tolerably preserved ; it is sculptured, cross-legged, and drawing the sword. Next is the monument of a religious ; the arch has the ogee sweep, and, with the compartments on the tomb-part, may be said to be rather rich. The statue has at its head a small canopy above the cushion whereon the head is laid. We now meet with the vestiges of the left side of a monument, the half on the right appearing to have been cut away, to set up the side or north screen to Bishop Vaughan's Chapel. The statue is a religious, and not much havocked ; but the tomb whereon it lies, filled with compartments, is rent and torn, giving sad note of its precarious state. Just above this last statue there has been stuck in the wall an admirable basso-relievo of the Ciucifixion. At this spot we enter Bishop Vaughan's Chapel ; the extreme length is north and south. The east side presents rather more than the site of the altar ; this work is of simple masonry ; the table of course is wanting. On each side of the altar are small windows giving view into Our Lady's Chapel. Beside these windows are two very large niches and * We refer our readers for a particular account of the original arrangements of this part of a cathedral to the " History of Durham Cathedral." St. David's. 243 pedestals. The two ends, north and south, have open screens, through which are entrances from either aisle of the choir. The west side is left wholly plain. Here, it is not improbable, was hung some large painting or rich hangings. The groins are of that kind which bespeak the overhead finishing of buildings in our Henry VI. and Henry VII. 's time, and much resemble the groins in the cloisters at Gloucester and St. Stephen's Chapel, Westminster. The whole of the design before us is as perfect and fresh as if brought to perfection but yesterday. Continuing our list in the north aisle of the choir, a monument occurs which we may well say is in its last stage of havoc. The left side of the arch shows some early pointed architecture, the other half is departed. As for the statue, it is so far lost to common view, that it is denominated nothing but a pile of rubbish. After sufficiently commenting on the lines, I drew out enough to note that it had been sculptured for the effigies of a religious. But what engaged all my attention was the trunk of the statue of another religious, placed against this monument as a sort of careful saving from the wreck of the important monumental collection enriching this cathedral. Apologizing for any rash opinion I may give on this mutilated subject, I beg leave to assert that it is not possible for the art of man to go beyond it, the outline is so just, the drapery so graceful. . . . The last subject in this arrangement of the church is a curious and uncommon piece of masonry, comprised of small oblong recesses and arches (now mortared up with bits of stone), once open for the purpose (as we learn) of depositing therein the offerings of pilgrims. I made an exact drawing of this receptacle of good things, measured its height, width, etc. Bury St. Edmunds. The Bridewell, formerly a " Jewish Synagogue," as noticed by Mr. Neild, p. 801, is in truth a noble Saxon mansion of two stories; the second story, being the principal one, has at the south end a double arched window supported by columns. Three of the same double windows occur on the east side, being divided one from the other by pilasters or projecting piers. Pity it is, as so few buildings of this kind are left to tell out the consequence of habitations at so remote a period as perhaps 800 or 900 years past. I write these remarks from a drawing taken in 1786. St. David's. [1804, Part II, pp. 1026, 1027.] Turning from the north aisle of the choir, we take our course round Bishop Vaughan's Chapel, through an aisle, which eastward opens 16 — 2 244 Architectural Innovation. into Our Lady's Chapel, by means of a double archway, and southward, into the south aisle of the choir, through a double archway also. The groins are perfect, and, though of simple masonry, have still an appropriate effect. At the north and south ends are small windows. In the spandrils of the arches are many curious heads, and in the centre of the groins shields of arms. On the ground are lying five large bosses for the groins to Our Lady's Chapel, before they fell some time ago, owing, as I am informed, to there being no roof, or any covering to keep them from the weather. These bosses are filled with heads, shields of arms, and other ornaments. Our Lady's Chapel has on each side two windows, and at the east end one of a larger dimension. On the south side of this chapel (near the site of the altar) are the three stalls for the officiating priests. On the north side is the bare appearance of a monument ; the shape of the arch cannot be determined, and the statue (supposing there once was one) is totally obliterated. On the south side, and near the priests' stalls, are the remains of a magnificent monument ; the arch is highly enriched, as is also the pediment emerging from out the said arch ; the pinnacled buttresses on each side give a fine termination to the design. The statue is that of a bishop, but it is nearly destroyed. Being in the south aisle of the choir, the first monument to the east (against the south wall) has little more than a plain arch with six turns, or sweeps, three on each side; on the tomb part is something like the lines of a statue, but not anything appears decisive. The next monument (proceeding in a western direction) has its arch like the foregoing, and in the six turns the mouldings are ornamented. Here is the statue of a religious, well preserved ; the tomb on which it lies has rich compartments. The next memorial is a low-raised tomb ; on the top an ornamented cross, and round the ledge an inscription. Near this is another low-raistd tomb, bearing the statue of a religious, with a book in his right hand. Here is likewise an inscription, but not very intelligible — this is to be regretted, as many are rather inclined to believe the figure is the effigy of the holy and learned Giraldus. Against the opposite wall, in this aisle, are the fragments of a tomb, on which is the upper half of the statue of a knight. Returning back into the more eastern part of this aisle, being divided by an arch from that portion just left — when, looking through this arch in a north-west direction, a very pleasing view is had of the tomb of Giraldus, so named according to the tradition of the church.. Advancing more immediately to the tomb itself, it is to be perceived that the situation is directly within the arch of the choir nearest to the high altar ; this arch, with the others on each side the choir, have been stopped up, from a case of necessity, as the groins and roofs of the side-aisles have been SL David's. 245 destroyed, as before mentioned — therefore it was proper thus to secure the choir from the weather, that divine service might be performed therein. No such excuse as this can come in as a plea for stopping up the side-arches to the choir of Lichfield Cathedral, as the side-aisles there are finely groined, the windows well glazed, etc. This accredited tomb of Giraldus has no work to show that it was designed in the monumental form, as a mere piece of timber is laid horizontally, so as to bear from the statue the filling-in wall above it. The tomb supporting the statue is exceedingly havocked ; still, we may perceive five diamonded compartments. The statue has had some respect showed to it, as little damage has been done. The habit is that of a religious ; the hands are in the praying position, and the feet rest on a lion. The face presents the features of a dignified, learned, and pious Churchman. . . . The Choir. — The stalls begin their line within the west arch of the centre tower, the dimensions of which are adequate to contain their whole number, being about twelve on each side, independent of those ranging on the right and left of the entrance. The bishop's throne, a noble object, stands rather beyond the east arch of the tower, and meets the very curious and uncommon open screen dividing the stall portion of the choir from that allotment eastward set apart for tombs and the high altar. This latter space of the choir extends so as to comprehend four divisions of arches and columns. The elevation of this part of the building differs materially from that of the nave, as the arches are pointed, and spring alternately from columns circular and octangular. Nor are there any galleries as in the nave, a succession of windows giving the finish to the upright of the choir. Notwithstanding the form of the arches differs so much in these two principal arrangements of the church, still the mouldings, ornaments, etc., in both instances, are of the same taste. Thus, on every occa- sion, we encounter proofs the most irrefragable, that the semicircular and pointed arch are coeval, or at least the latter figure had its exist- ence at no great distance of time from the former. [1804, Part /I., pp. 1120-1122.] We now resume the description of the choir, and that part bearing to the east, the roof of which is formed with open-worked timbers in manner like those of the nave already spoken of; though far inferior in regard to tracery and other adornments, still among the compart- ments are many shields with arms. In the centre of this portion of the choir, and directly before the steps of the high altar, stands the tomb of Jasper, Earl of Richmond, father to Henry VII. It was in consideration of the relationship (if my information may be depended on) that the layer-waste of architectural grandeur, Henry VIII., for- bore to sign the destruction of this church in common with so many glorious fabrics ennobling those realms under his dominion. On this consideration, who can approach the royal memorial without 246 Architectural Innovation. imbibing a double share of satisfaction in reflecting on the "good works " of the defunct, and being sensible his remains have been, and it may be inferred will still continue to be, the guardian of all that makes St. David's fane conspicuous in the antiquarian world, and so justly charms those who constitute the chief supporters of a study so delectable and so important ? I have often been led to admire the consummate skill of our ancestors (to say nothing of the religious intent) in placing in this kind of centrical situation the tombs of regal and illustrious personages, such works becoming from their position both interesting and picturesque. Thus, while inferior memorials of mortality lie on each side of choirs, the prin- cipal objects to be reverenced -are thus rendered the grand points of view in so bright a display of architectural and monumental scenery. Forgive the expression if it should be thought to favour more of the artist than the moralist. It may not be amiss to instance a few existing examples of this sepulchral arrangement, in order to enforce the above remarks. Edward the Confessor's shrine; Henry VII. 's tomb, Westminster; King John's tomb, Worcester (if not barbarously removed of late) ; William Rufus's tomb, Winchester ; the tomb of Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland, Staindrop Church,* Durham (barbarously removed of late into the south-west corner of the edifice) ; the tombs of the Earls of Warwick, in St. Mary's Church, Warwick ; the tomb of Bishop Beauchamp, in his chapel in Salisbury (the tomb barbarously removed, and his chapel destroyed, a short time back); the exquisite tomb of Thomas FitzAlan, Earl of Arundel, in the priory church at Arundel, etc. . . . On the pavement, and at the right of the Earl of Richmond's memorial, are two very low tombs, one placed at the head of the other : that westward has a statue of Bishop Jorwerth; that eastward bears the statue of Bishop Anselm. At the head of this latter statue is a canopy supported by angels ; and in its arch, consisting of three turns, is an inscription in which the name occurs. These two statues are remarkably well sculptured, and in good preservation. Within the arch of the third division, on the south side of the choir, is the tomb of Rhys-ap-Griffith, Prince of South Wales, who died 1197. This statue is sometimes pointed out as the effigy of Owen Tudor, who married Catharine, queen to Henry V. ; but the make of the armour, and other costumic particulars, assign to it a much earlier period than the reign of Henry VI., when Owen was beheaded. The side of this tomb is plain ; and behind it is a very rich, open oak- screen, which, before the divisions of the choir were stopped up, gave view into the side aisle, etc. The hands and right foot of the statue are demolished ; the head rests on a helmet surmounted with the head of a lion ; a lion rampant is cut on the body-part of the * See Gough's " Sepulchral Monuments." St. David's. 247 armour. Of the embellishments belonging to this warlike habiliment, the girdle is very beautiful. The countenance is strongly marked, and well expresses the character of the hero and the Christian. In the division on the opposite side of the choir is the tomb of Rhys Grigg, the son of the forenamed prince. The side of this tomb is likewise plain; and above the statue is a low arch, extremely plain also. The statue has lost both the hands and the extremities of the feet. The head is borne by cushions, and the feet rest on a lion. The armour varies but little from that of the father's, though not so rich in ornaments. A lion is likewise cut on the body of the armour, with the label of three points. The son has not any whiskers, as is seen on the father, nor are the features either so handsome or so commanding. These sculptures are of the first class for truth of drawing, fine execution, and exact representation of costumic minutiae, ranking them among the finest performances of our old masters. Under the second division, on the north side of the choir, stands a piece of architecture which is said to be the shrine of St. David ! When there is a received opinion that any particular object of antiquity was originally appropriated to a precise purpose, bold, nay, presumptuous, is that person who may go about to do away, in any wise, such authority ; yet, strong as may appear the testimony, some doubts may be submitted in "contradict line " as to the authenticity of the position advanced. A shrine is understood to be a large wooden chest, richly orna- mented, so as to contain a smaller chest, in which is deposited the body of some saint ; the whole raised on a basis of stone, decorated with niches, paintings, precious stones, etc. This inestimable work was placed in an insular situation, and in the centre of a feretory, or chapel, behind the high altar of a choir, such as we yet witness at Westminster, the shrine of Edward the Confessor; and which was once beheld at Canterbury, the shrine of St. Thomas a Becket ; and at Durham, the shrine of St. Cuthbert, etc. The subject under dis- cussion is done wholly in stone ; set up under an arch in one of the divisions in the choir, in like manner as tombs and monuments ; has no traits of the usual form of shrines (as above specified), and comes simply under this description : The lower, or base part, is a sort of tomb, rather plain, having no other decorations than four detached perforated compartments, of four sweeps each (two of them stopped up). Above this basement are three small divisions, with columns and arches (somewhat of a rich design). In the spandrils of the arches are the heads of a king, a bishop, and a priest. From this detail there is little to warrant the resemblance of a shrine. While drawing this object, and on mature deliberation since, 1 have been induced at times to conclude this was the spot for setting up the holy sepulchre on Good Friday (which was always placed on the north side of choirs), as is particularly described in the " History 248 Architectural Innovation. and Antiquities of Durham Cathedral," and other writings of the same cast. At another moment a powerful idea impressed me, that it was the repository for the offerings made at St. David's shrine, as at the back part of the work are those " stopped-up perforations" remarked on in the account of subjects in the north aisle of the choir. The use made on each side for the receipt of treasure I take to have been after this manner : that front in the choir had the gifts made by the great and illustrious part of the devotees and those eminent for a life of superior holiness, whom we may natually sup- pose were alone admitted by the religious into this hallowed sanc- tuary • while the front, in the north aisle, took in whatever sums or other matters common supplicants could disburse, who, on such occasions, we may again imagine, advanced no further than the exterior of the choir, being satisfied with viewing the splendour of the high altar, etc., through the open screens and tombs dividing the choir from the side-aisles. [1804, Part II , pp. 1214, 1215.] The pavement of the sepulchral part of the choir consists of small square ornamented tiles, disposed in such a manner as to form regular geometrical figures, in which are introduced shields with arms, inscriptions, etc. This assemblage is left in a more perfect state than any I have yet seen, Gloucester Cathedral and Great Malvern Church excepted. In the western part of England considerable quantities of these tiles are met with in every church, but lying in great confusion, owing to their being continually taken up for making of graves, whereby all the original symmetry of their disposure is done away. In the North of England few of these tiles are seen. It is almost un- necessary to point out to the antiquary their beauty and splendid effect, though spurned at and thrown out as rubbish by too many of those who have such decorations under care, from a real deficiency in their ideas of true taste. St. David's pavement has a few certain marks or fractures, said to have been made by the hoofs of Cromwell's horse when he rode triumphant up to the altar — an act of sacrilege meriting divine punishment on the spot. We do not learn that any ill befell him on the occasion, though, by a like piece of pre- sumptuous daring at Peterborough Minster, he was thrown from his horse, and had near forfeited his life. The high altar screen, in point of grandeur and peculiarity of work, is perhaps one of the first things of the kind that is to be noticed. The design takes up the entire breadth of the east end of the choir; a dado rises from the pavement, on which are three large recesses, the centre one of greater dimensions than the other two, made out by clustered columns and arches of the pointed form. It must be allowed, in the present instance, that this piece of archi- St. David's. 249 tecture presents a happy union of the Saxon and Norman (or pointed) styles, charged with the embellishments of each order, and so excellently combined that it is a difficult matter to determine whether the two species of art had met together never to part, or that the parent stock (the Saxon mode) was taking the last embrace of its more complete offspring (the pointed mode), which was about to burst into the world as all wonderful and all perfection. And let me say, with no small degree of satisfaction, its intrinsic worth is not un- heeded by those who have their eyes continually turned towards so much excellence. The chapel (now called the chapter-house) on the north side of the choir I take to be in the crypt under the real chapter-house, which chapter-house is converted into a schoolroom. This chapel is very perfect, having two divisions of groins supported by columns. On the north side are two windows, at the east end one window, beneath is the site of the altar, and the approach is by a rise of two steps. It is with concern that I am compelled to note the use this chapel is put to — for chipping of tiles, making of mortar, etc. Before I quit these sacred walls, I must do that justice to the dignitaries of the church, which is by right their due, for the attention bestowed on the remains, and considering all things, more care cannot be evinced in clearing away the accumulations of dirt from the sepulchres, preventing the dilapidated aisles from being made thoroughfares (as in other instances both in Wales and England), and the like, etc. As for the interior of the building (forgetting that the north transept is unpaved and left as a mere cemetery, and the south transept a depot for all kind of building materials), I do not recollect that any of our cathedrals are better or oftener cleaned out, or a more zealous attention bestowed to hold up to strangers the im- portance of each curious particular. When a resolution is entered upon to go farther with regard to antiquarian consistency, it is probable the wretched pew lumber, disfiguring the nave and hiding a part of a most elegant tomb, will be removed, whereby this portion of the cathedral will appear in all its appropriate seeming, of which no ancient work of this kind can be more magnificent or more sublime. Haverfordwest. [1805, Part L, p. 25.] I gained the town of Haverfordwest. Here I was well lodged and well accommodated ; things were reversed in this respect from what I had experienced in my late quarters. The castle is one vast pile, designed in the noblest style, and placed on an eminence commanding the town, which lies, as it were, grovelling at the basements of its walls. Indeed, I never saw a castellated structure more commanding or better constructed to inspire the thought that it must have been once impregnable. This fabric is used as a 250 Architectural Innovation. prison ; and for its internal state read Mr. Neild's account of prisons in Wales, detailed in this miscellany. There are some monastic ruins in the town. Picton Castle. My reception was as flattering to the " wishes " of an artist as could be desired. The noble owner, who here resides in much dignity, gave that attention (maugre my poor pilgrim's demeanour) which made me forget for the time all troubles past ; and I set about my survey with that content of soul so necessary to those who profess the delineatory art. This castle at present shows no more than one oblong mass of building, which may either be the original walls or some additional work ; such making out, as I conceive, the principal part of the pile — that is, the keep. But this may be conjecture, as all the windows are modern, with common sash-frames ; such are the doorways, etc. The principal ancient features are circular towers at the angles of the walls, and others of a larger sweep projecting from the side-walls, the whole work finishing with battlements. The interior has totally submitted to modern alteration ; so that little thought is raised, while partaking of the hospitality of Picton, of the romantic castle of old times ; but the elegant villa with all its fashion- able conveniences alone charms the senses. There are no traces of any outworks, such as fosses, gateways, etc. ; an extensive lawn is on the south side, and a plantation on the north side of the building ; the west end looks between both, and at the east is the entrance from a balustraded terrace. At a reasonable distance are the offices, such as stables, etc. The general face of the ground is level ; and to the south a beautiful view is had of the sea. [1805, Part 7., pp. 126-128.] Opposite the entrance front of Picton Castle, and at some distance, is a long avenue of trees terminating with a pavilion in the Italian style. Here, as it were, the confines of the castle end, for beyond all appeared, at least to me, an uncomfortable and dreary heath. Over its untracked way was 1 constrained to explore the route to Slebach. Slebach. Many artificers, as they seemed to me, were busily employed on some external repairs of the building ; their work went merrily on, aided by the melody of Cambria's tuneful strains, when, on descrying me, an instantaneous silence prevailed, and song and hammer ceased to wound the listening ear. Paying but little attention to this circumstance, I entered the church, where quickly finding the monumental object to be drawn, I soon was at my employ. This monument is rich and finely executed. The tomb part plain, Slebach. 251 whereon lay the statues of a knight and a lady ; at the sides of the design, buttresses, from which springs a flat arch ; beneath is a recess filled with compartments and much tracery. Above this arch rises an ogee pediment, with crotchets and a finial. In the spandrils is a shield (arms gone) supported by two kneeling angels. On each side of the pediment are compartments and tracery bounded by the upper part of the aforementioned buttresses, the whole finishing with an entabulature, the frieze of which has ornaments of foliage, etc. The armour of the knight is extremely sumptuous, particularly in the gauntlets, knee-pieces, and the pieces on the feet. The knight's collar is composed of roses, having in its centre, and depending on his breast, an animal resembling a lamb — by this badge the warrior is termed a knight of the " Golden Fleece." The head ot the statue rests on a helmet, and the feet on a lion. The fashion of the armour, as well as the mode of the architecture, is such as prevailed in the fourteenth century. The dress of the lady has all the elegance of the same period, in the second robe being left open on the sides to show the under, or third robe ; the outer, or first robe, has the cordons ; the head is bound with a fillet of roses and jewels; jewels round the neck, etc. The head reclines on cushions supported by two angels, and the feet rest on two dogs. Llangham. I was suffered to take the drawings of the sepulchral subjects in the church. Although the edifice is on a small plan, its form is a cross, with body transepts, and chancel, or choir. In the north transept, and against the north wall, is the monument of the knight who fell a victim to his predestined fate at Roch Castle. The memorial of the Roch Castle knight, I conceive of the highest import- ance, as it establishes a piece of traditional information not always to be depended upon in other cases. The tomb bearing the statue is a portion of the stone seat of continuation round the church ; above is an arched recess springing from buttresses at each side. The arch has the ogee sweep with three turns right and left, each turn containing smaller turns of corresponding work, and to the ogee sweep are crotchets and a finial. The recess itself is plain. The statue needs a very particular description. The attitude is that of a warrior preparing for combat ; the right hand is about to draw the sword, while the left arm is bearing up the shield (which is without embellishment) ; the head is turned to the right, the countenance strongly marked with apprehension ; yet there is a determined air made manifest also to resist every ill. The head is supported by a second or outer helmet, which made a part of the head armour in early times ; indeed, the whole monument is of a very remote date. 252 A rch itectural Innovation. This helmet is surrounded by the head of a bird. The armour for the neck is mail or ring-work; that for the arms and legs plate- armour, and very plain. We now come to the remarkable part of the armour, which is the covering to the feet, made out with small squares most artfully interwoven by diamond intersections, not only giving a rich appearance, but to all conjecture an invulnerable defence. Here it is manifest the knight here portrayed was in dread of some sore disaster happening to him at these extremities of his body, and what foe so likely to assail as the crawling " adder " ; but in this instance his " steely guise " was of no avail. How stand you affected to the Roch Castle tradition, good friend ? Is it not by this memorial confirmed beyond all question affixed on the firm basis of belief? It may be observed, as a very uncommon circumstance in sculptures of this nature, that the figure is well preserved, and the face and feet (which feet rest on a lion) are entirely perfect. Having tco often had occasion to mention the indecent way in which so many churches are left, wherein numberless fine pieces of art are suffered to be covered with all kind of rubbish, building materials, etc., here, then, occurred a case in point, yet with more aggravated circumstances than any I had yet encountered. On the pavement, by the north side of the altar, I perceived traces of a sculptured head. When removing some dirt, incrusted in a manner on the stone, I discovered the features of a most lovely female ; encouraged by this, I went to work with a spade, and after much labour brought once more to sight a whole-length statue of a lady ! The dress showed but one robe, which was held by the right hand of the figure, bringing the drapery into folds the most graceful. The head attire consisted of drapery also, but most elegantly disposed. It is to be presumed our Welsh friends, after the u digging up " of a morsel so precious, will be more attentive in future to things of this nature. In the east wall, near the Roch Castle knight's memorial, is a holy-water niche and pedestal, not alone beautiful in themselves, but of a design rather uncommon, more immediately in the latter decoration, it being covered on its shaft and cornice with a succession of shields (arms gone) placed in perpendicular and horizontal positions. Brecon. Here the shield of protection was held over me by a resident of the place. With him I walked over the remains of the castle. We differed somewhat about its state ; I bewailing the several dilapida- tions, and he expressing pleasure to behold it as a picturesque ruin ; more so than if it had still beamed in its original splendour. We then entered the priory church, large and stately, full of curious particulars, both monumental and architectural, Again I repeat, my pencil here knew not its use ; silent were my items ; memory Llanhamlog. 253 alone draws out the sacred scene. About three miles from Brecon (still on my way homewards) is Llanhamlog, distinguished in a few scattered huts. Here I halted to take note of a statue in the church. This church has lately been rebuilt. Whatever were the dimensions and decorations of the one destroyed, the present erection is little more than an oblong room, barely suffi- cient to contain fifty people, destitute of every kind of enrichment ; not so much as one evangelical symbol to let a stranger know whether it is a place of worship or a barn. It was well the sculpture I looked for was not cast aside with the rest of the " old things." However, the statue, from having lain some centuries past on its back, being in the death-bed attitude of adoration, was now placed against the wall in an erect position. Thus the female here portrayed must, to those unused to the original intention, appear singular, in perceiving at the back of the figure a pallet and cushions, and other sleeping particulars, which, from their situation according to reality, could not remain an instant without falling to the ground. This whimsical humour, to set up an object of this nature perpendicularly which was evidently intended to be laid horizontally, is not confined to this obscure village. Many instances could be adduced where such a capricious disposure is manifested in large churches under public attention, and done under the eye, and with the advice, of accom- plished patrons and tasteful architects ! The dress of the statue (now on its legs) consists of an under-vest, and over it an open robe. The head attire is drapery, without embellishment of any kind. There is a remarkable inscription cut round the edge of the slab, not reconcilable as made out by different readers. Crick Howell. An account of the remains of the castle and church, with its monu- ments, I have already particularized in vol. lxxii., p. 22 [ante, p. 149]. I had, however, to take notes of a very interesting gateway in the town. This gateway, if ever I have an opportunity to erect one of the same kind, would prove an excellent addition to the architectural assemblage making out the villa adornments of any patron of our ancient arts. [1805, Part I., pp. 331-333.] There was now but one particular building more to go in quest of, and that was St. Ishew, or Patrisshaw's Church, some six or seven miles north of Crick Howell. The road, or rather hollow way, between overarching hedges, was, as is usual in this part of Wales, in many distances almost impassable, from an infinity of loose stones choking 254 Architectural Innovation. up the passage, and in others bearing the most frightful appearances from being 20 or 30 feet below the level of the fields on each side. St. Patrisshaw's Church. The situation was surely such as must have suited the most rigid devotee in old times ; encompassed by mountains, whose tops seemed to shut out the greater part of the sun's diurnal course. No cottage in sight, nor any object to glad the weary visitant with hope of friendly intercourse. My guide gave me to understand that we were near the secluded ruins of Lanthony Abbey, and if we were to climb the hill before us, the dilapidated pile* would then be under our view. I was but half inclinable to draw a most rare and elaborate screen and rood-loft, dividing the body of the building from the chancel — a building so small, and so simple in design, that it was really extraordinary how a decoration so rich and perfect could have been set up within walls of such humble sort, and in a manner cut off from all human tread. My guide, still on the wing, told me that he must leave me again for an hour at least, in which time, he supposed, I might complete my business. Then, pointing to the south side of the cemetery, he said, "There is an ancient well dedicated to the saint who protects this church, called ' The Hopeless Well' " Few people take cognizance of it at this day, whatever the votaries to retirement and penance might do heretofore ; indeed, the spot itself does not inspire much confidence in pleasurable ideas, sylvan scenes, or festive sports. Windsor Castle. [1805, Part I., pp. 529, 530.] " Hail, Windsor, crowned with lofty towers !" — Popular Ballad (1760). Great part of my early years being passed in a village one mile east of this ennobled pile, it will not be thought extraordinary if, from a continued sight of the "embattled walls" and "lofty towers," I laid the foundation of that unchangeable propensity for our anti- quities which I have ever since devoted my whole life to illustrate and to commend. The usual pathway conveying me to the " time- honoured" spot was through the Little Park. Here, at about half- way of the walk, is an eminence, which, as I sought its winding ascent, the upper parts of the towers of the east front of the castle began to peer upon my sight ; mounting still, still the building showed more of its elevations ; until at length arriving at the summit of this little "hill of joy," the whole contour of the royal residence became manifested to my sight. I do not hesitate to own my first readings were principally directed to the history of my own country, legendary tales, romances, stories of giants, fairies, knights, and * See our survey, vol. lxxi., p. 1 169 {ante, p. 148], since which period the greater part of the fine west front has been thrown down, etc. Windsor Castle. 255 ladies fair ; so that ever as I repeated this my progress, Windsor's glories always floated in my ideas as some enchanted castle just raised to charm my wondering sight ! Neither do I blush to hold it as my firm opinion, that an antiquary cannot be firm in his pursuit, or true to his studies, if his mind is not tinctured more or less with impressions from the above relics of old customs and manners. Let those who enjoy the name without the spirit of an antiquary smile at this ; I am content. Until within these few years I never observed that any material alteration had taken place in the buildings ; when going down, about 1788, to make some drawings in the interior of St. George's Chapel, I perceived that the fosses on the east and south fronts of the castle had been filled up. Let no one be offended when I declare the alteration so affected me that I even started back with regret at " seeing what I saw." As upon inquiry I found the mighty fabric still owned the name of castle, I could not but conclude (it may per- chance be held in me rather presumptuous) that one characteristic of a castellated mansion was done away in the loss of these fosses. Professional men have established it as a maxim in architecture, that height in elevations constitutes one great point towards arriving at the " sublime and beautiful." Now, it will not be denied but in this instance the north and east fronts stand reduced and curtailed of much of their fair proportions. Being at work in the chapel, I was made acquainted that the east window was about to undergo an improvement, by having all the charming mullions and tracery cut out, and the whole opening left as"clear as conveniently might be, to give room for a large painting of the Resurrection. Indeed, I was so favoured as to be shown the design in question. The mason's part was to be under the control of a late ingenious architect, a vast admirer, on certain occasions, of our ancient architecture. The window, it appeared, when cleared of its contingencies, was to be set out into three divisions, the two outer divisions to be divided into two stories ; each division to have plain pointed heads, excepting the heads of the two outer divisions on the first story, which were to be enriched with a number of turns after a new way. All this I could not comprehend, my experience in our ancient works having never given me any example of this nature. I could not, however, refrain from expressing my surprise at this new mode of mullion-work ; the answer was : "The window, it is apprehended, will not endure without a something by way of support to its large arch, which is of a flattish sweep ; and therefore, as little work, and as Might' as possible, is intended to be inserted as a substitute for the complicated, intricate and multifarious lines now before our view." I answered : " But do not these said multi- farious lines correspond with the general character of the whole chapel?" I was thus replied to: "That is nothing; the celebrated 256 A rchitectural I nnovation. painter who here has given his sketch must have a large field whereon to display his abilities." My informant, finding me blank at all this, thus continued : "The old work here is very fine, to be sure ; but it must submit to any change suggested, which eventually will be owned, depend upon it, as improvements of the highest im- portance." To these unanswerable hints I submitted with a respect- ful silence, and consoled myself" with sketching the tracery of the east window, which probably is the only memorial of its original state now in existence. Looking about the chapel, I found that the remains of the painted figures in the different windows had been taken down and set up in the great west window, in order to make one general show. On this head I made no remark. But when I discovered that the two west windows at the end of the side-aisles of the nave had been deprived of their work to make room for two modern paintings, without the least pretensions to recommend them, as being either the production of the first professor of the art, or that they were in any wise applic- able to the situation they were in, I was not so calm in thought as perhaps became me in so sacred a place. Again the word "improve- ment" was thundered in my ears, and that was sufficient. In the year 1790, I perceived a prodigious change had been wrought on the flanking walls in the south general line of the castle, and nearly opposite the Queen's Lodge — to afford, as people ob- served, a fine view of the keep, or Round Tower. Thus, from having seen this part of the front with battlements, and other appro- priate decorations, according to the style of the castle itself, I encountered a common-appearanced stone wall, with a modern run of coping, etc. Before I proceed further with these observations, it will be neces- sary to give some idea of the state of the castle in the beginning of Charles IL's reign, and of the alterations made soon after, previous to setting down the notes of a particular survey entered upon this spring, of the improvements done since my visit in 1790, as above. [1805, Part 77., pp. 629-632.] Near the end of last month (June) one of those very good-natured friends who are ever ready to communicate certain pieces of intelligence, to answer certain purposes, told me that, if I went down to Windsor on the moment, I might have an opportunity of witnessing the demolition of the interior finishings of those chambers that run westward on the north front of the castle erected by Henry VII. and Elizabeth. Though not the most pleasant business, I instantly complied ; and the more readily as I wished to go over my memoranda taken some months back, as hinted in my last number. My gratifications on this visit may be easily conceived. I found several of these chambers on the first and second stories made bare Windsor Castle, 257 to the walls, and the floors strewed with the traceries of the ceilings, enriched with the Tudor ornaments and devices. I now commence my survey in a regular manner. In my journey to Windsor I took the road on the left of Langly Broom, where, in the environs of Ditton Park, is the remnant of a rural fabric belonging to Queen Anne, called Reading Palace, now a farmhouse. Some curious chimneys and a few other particulars mark the edifice. That no doubt may be had with regard to this information, a relative of mine, and of the most venerated memory, was born in this structure, in whose time were to be seen considerable portions of the palace, and in its superb state. At the twentieth milestone is Datchet. In the east windows of the church are some excellent traceries. A ferry at this village conveyed me across the Thames. Entering the Little Park, I caught a partial view of the east front of the castle ; some new objects seemed to play upon my sight. Indeed, so far off as Hounslow Heath, where the first appearance of the royal seat arrests the traveller's attention, I fancied there was a something rising from out the mass of the castle that I was altogether a stranger to ; but of this anon. Coming to my dear recollected eminence half- way the walk in the Little Park, I began to hesitate, as though all was not as usual even here. In Ashmole's " Order of the Garter," a book published in the beginning of the reign of Charles II., there are many views of the castle, taken without the walls, by Hollar. The first and principal view is a bird's-eye representation of the castle drawn from the south- east, and probably from the tops of some of the lofty elms near this spot. Second view, the east front. Third view, north front. The name of Christopher Wren is to this print as draughtsman. Fourth view, west front. Fifth view, south-west front. From these views, it is believed the castle stood then in much the same state as left by Edward III., who enlarged and beautified the old castle founded by William the Conqueror, and finished by Henry I. Soon after Hollar had collected his drawings, Charles II. (Sir Christopher Wren being the architect) made considerable alterations in the fronts, south, east, and north. Hollar shows us that on the south front between every tower from the east angle to the circular tower where the entrance is, leading to the upper ward or court, run rampart walls supported by buttresses. These buttresses were taken away by Charles, and windows, etc., inserted, as now seen. The rest of this front running to the west (allowing for the late alteration in the wall opposite the Queen's Lodge) continues unchanged. The great gateway, indeed, entering into the lower ward, was built by Henry VIII. The terrace on this and the east front, rising out of the fosse, was the work of Charles, which fosse, according to Hollar's views, was complete in his time on both these fronts. The east front had rampart walls and buttresses between the towers, and was altered like the south front vol. x. 17 258 Architectural Innovation. by Charles. The north front, from east to little more than half the line, consisted of a succession of towers without rampart walls, and was replete with a fine display of bower and other windows. This range, to that part erected by Henry VII. and Elizabeth, and nearly opposite the Round Tower, was altered by Charles, and he also reconstructed the terrace on this front first raised by Elizabeth. The rampart walls and towers in continuation are in their original forms. The farther line of this front is hid by common houses, built within the last century for the dignitaries of St. George's Chapel. The west front has undergone little or no change. The various fronts within the upper ward Hollar exhibits were full of curious windows and doorways, etc. Some of the windows were large and beautiful, particularly those decorating St. George's Hall. The chief of these decorations were altered by Charles. The Round Tower had many alterations done at the same period. The lower ward presented every embellishment correspondent with the upper ward, and like it underwent the same kind of variation. St. George's Chapel, erected by Edward IV. and the tomb-house adjoining its east end, erected by Wolsey, sustained no loss in Charles's great scheme of innovation. When the several buttresses of the chapel were deprived of their pinnacles is uncertain ; they were remaining in Hollar's prints. This indefatigable and excellent artist gives the interior of St. George's Hall, which shows as in its original splendour. The windows were divided with rich mullions and tracery* ; the walls hung with tapestry ; and the roof open enriched timber work, similar to Westminster Hall. This hall, with almost every other interior of the castle for the use of kingly accommodation, was altered by Charles. Hollar has also presented a number of views in the interior of St. George's Chapel, whereby it may be perceived no alterations have been brought about until the present times. Batty Langley, architect, in 1743 published four prints of the castle. Plate i., general plan; ii., elevation of the east front; iii., elevation of the north front; iv., elevation of the Round Tower. (It is a pity Langley did not give the elevation of the south front.) From these very exact and faithful draughts we find the mass of buildings the same as Charles bequeathed to his successors after his plan of operations had ceased. In this order the kingly pile stood (not to repeat again the modern habitations for the dignitaries of the chapel in anywise but as accidental erections thrown out on the western extremity of the north front) until about 1783, when the public first began to be amused at the novelty of beholding Windsor's architectural honours once more turned over to the power of im- provement. * From which examples, it may be presumed, our modern architects have, in a distant degree, drawn their hints for the windows now sticking up about the prin- cipal stories of the royal apartments. Windsor Castle. 259 Batty's plates will, one time or other, be held as a criterion whereby a judgment may be delivered how well the professionalists now at work have perfected their job. Hollar's views are inestimable ; for to them alone, when the mighty and expensive undertaking is com- pleted, can we — that is, we who are antiquaries — appeal for the least instruction in what way the heroic Edward's castle originally beamed forth in regard to enrichments and characteristic decorations. Of the changes or improvements that have taken place within my own observation, at least since 1783, take the following particulars. The fosse on the south and east fronts entirely filled up ; and the bridge passing over to the great gateway, on the south front, into the lower ward, is in a manner lost, being buried up to the parapets, which parapets stand as mere dwarf walls to prevent people walking over the greensward on the earth filling up the fosse. The rampart walls opposite the Queen's Lodge reconstructed, and changed into a common stone fence, with a common run of coping, etc. Ascending the flight of steps to the terrace on the south front, I perceived a new window had been inserted by way of specimen for a range of windows to be put up on the principal story round the castle. This novel window (though evidently copied in a careless manner from Hollar's interior of St. George's Hall, before spoken of) is in its particulars exceedingly incorrect, and the detail of mouldings enormously large and misconceived. Our modern architects, though they have discovered that an ancient opening with a pointed head is beautiful, yet have not fallen upon the mode of ascertaining the rule that guided our old artists in the chaste proportions of the several minute parts perfecting a window, doorway, cornice, etc. The string or cornice of the elevation above the head of this new window has been broken into ; of course, the mouldings of the said cornice are necessitated to be hoisted up with perpendicular returns, right and left, rendering the general line of cornice lame and distorted. The space between the outer mouldings of the architrave and the sweep- ing label of this window is made to show at least 6 or 7 inches. This is meant, no doubt, for an improvement, as, in our ancient works of this nature, taking them of all dimensions, the proportion of the space bears one-third of the width of the label ; therefore, had our new window-makers fallen into the error of being copyists, their space would not have exceeded an inch and a half. The east front, no alteration. North front: here I quickly encountered those new objects that had alarmed me at a distance, when I apprehended all was not as it had been. In this range of buildings is a projecting line of chambers called the "Star Chambers," from a large sculptured star on the exterior. At the east angle of this line a brick octangular tower has been run up, with stone (more probably your patent com- position cement) dressings of windows, cornices and battlements, etc., in the Hampton Court style. The west angle has not yet re- 17 — 2 26o Architectural Innovation. ceived any addition ; such being delayed, it is not unlikely, till those most curious, interesting, picturesque, and original elevations, the architectural memorials of Henry VII. and Elizabeth, both on this front and on that opposite the entrance to the Round Tower, are taken down. I am, notwithstanding all that I have heard to this purpose, but little inclined to believe they will eventually fall. In the "Star Chamber" front, on which I would particularly treat, many new windows are set up; in some portions the whole height, consist- ing of four stories, has been thus decked. The first or basement story has a pointed window, but the mouldings and receding parts turn wholly upon an improved plan. The second story has the common Tudor square-headed window of two lights. The third or principal story presents the same clumsy window as already noticed on the south front. The fourth story, a repetition of the window on the second story. [1805, Part II., pp. 723-726.] East or Upper Ward. — In the centre of the north side, where the royal chambers run, some new work has been executed by way of a restoration, in conformity to the old termination at the eastern extremity of this range. A new porch in this point of view also greets the eye. I own that I am not competent to decide on its merits, otherwise than to say it certainly is not of the same mode of design as the rest of the front, where it now forms a part. The western half of this range, and on its return west, adjoining the delightful Tudor Gallery, which I have so continually held as worthy of all regard, has been wholly new-faced and decorated, in manner like the north front of the castle, already detailed ; further corroborating the intent, that the various exteriors of the pile are to be gone through with in due order, conformable to the models of those mixtures of styles I suggested were irrelevant one to the other. Rising out of the mass of ;Jthese state apartments is a new octagon lanthorn, with large glazed windows, crowned by a modern weathercock. In this object I cannot recognise anything like an ancient castellated decoration. Something on this principle, to be sure, may be found as appertaining to churches, Peterborough and Ely Cathedrals for instance. . . . However, I cannot forbear to observe that this lanthorn issuing out of the body of the building has, when standing at some distance (Little Park), a most uncommon and strange effect ; beautiful it may be — I presume not to determine on this. Being desirous to view the interior of that part of the castle shown to common visitors, I was. very kindly admitted by the porter through an open panelled glazed doorway (made upon the modern Eldovado plan) of the new porch into the staircase saloon ; the staircase saloon I would be understood to mean, that which has recently been turned out of the various artists' hands. Exerting all my powers of description, Windsor Castle. 261 I will essay to enumerate the most prominent features of this so costly a part of the plan for re-edifying and improving the whole castle. The figure of this saloon is an oblong, lying north and south, and extending through the edifice from the front in the upper ward to the front next the terrace. The length is divided into three aisles, church-wise, the centre aisle being wider than the side ones. The first half is filled with the stairs ; galleries occupy the spaces on each side the stairs. Under the stairs, as they rise, and under the galleries, the three aisles are continued, making a perambulatory round and round. The upper part of the staircase terminates with various groinings, so constructed as to connect themselves in a very accommodating manner with an octangular skylight, which, after much mature consideration, I discovered constituted the interior of the octangular lanthorn exhibited on the roof of the building, as before noticed, and which makes so remarkable a point of attraction in all directions. The general embellishments of this staircase are in the Tudor style, where flat arches, and compartments, with what moderns call "fan tracery," are set forth on all sides, excepting the lofty walls above the galleries, which are left entirely bare. Some slender columns, doorways, and a window, indeed, break the line of vacuity, which otherwise might be thought wanting a something to accord with the excessive portion of enrichments in the groins overhead. To speak of the doorways in particular, as to the plea of good taste in design, there is one fronting the ascent of the steps, of a height so far exceeding the usual proportion in regard to width, referring either to the Roman, Grecian, or our ancient schools, that I cannot otherwise account why within the pointed head of this doorway another doorway with a square head is inserted, otherwise than to take off the disproportioned appearance alluded to. This conjunction of two different-formed doorways, taking them without any apology, is certainly extremely wfiimsical, to say nothing about our ancient examples, none such being to be met with to warrant so sportive and entertaining a figure. The other doorways turn on the like fancy. From a nice examination of the detail of mouldings and ornaments, I find much wanting to make up what has lately been termed " a religious imitation of our old works." The Queen's Guard-room. — I found this place converted into a chapel by means of the seats and other particulars taken from the chapel adjoining St. George's Hall. The scene, it must be owned, is rather discordant to the eye, the walls being hung with armour, spears, guns, swords, bandeliers, and drums ; and the floor divided out with pews, reading-desk, pulpit, Prayer-books, and Communion- table, etc. However, the mind becomes satisfied, reflecting on the necessity of being prepared for both events, fighting as well as praying ; having thus at hand the means for destroying the enemies of the church, as well as to return thanks for its preservation. 262 A rchitectural Innovation. St. George's Hall. — Here I missed some of my old favourite objects, as the ascent to the throne at the east end, and the music gallery supported by gigantic statues at the west end. The latter Temarkables are not destroyed, to be sure ; but they are all huddled up together to make room for the entertainment at the late installation — on which occasion likewise a gallery for music has been broke through the wall above the site of the throne. By these temporary accommodations it but too plainly appears that this hall is on the eve of submitting, like the other parts of the pile, to a universal transformation ; or else two such grand terminations, marking the taste of Sir Christopher Wren in architectural decorations of this sort, would never have been thus "cut up" for one day's festival. There has, notwithstanding, arisen out of this changeful tide, dispelling for some moments every unpleasant idea, one circumstance, which is, the abundant and unexampled meed of honour done to the shade of Handel. I saw his portrait placed immediately over the spot where but of late his Majesty sat as sovereign of the Order of the Garter, giving on that day's solemnity one of the bright attractions surrounding his resplendent seat. The Royal Chapel. — The entrance is from St. George's Hall. A total subversion of all that had been was everywhere manifested. The organ-gallery at the east end — which was so finely disposed, so admirably obscured in a secondary light, a light so happily diffused as to create a kind of divine enthusiasm in the hearers when listening to the organ's celestial sounds— is disposed of. The various particulars for prayer removed to the Queen's guard-room (before spoken of). The wall at the west end, where the Communion-table rested, taken down to let in a large orchestra, and the sides of the chapel filled with rising seats sufficient to contain a numerous company : in short, this chapel is now a concert-room. [1805, Part II., pp. 818-821.] Among the many pictures introduced of late into the royal apart- ments is a series of representations of some of the most remarkable events which took place during the reign of Edward III. The artist, who on some occasions has been styled "the prince of modern painters," shows in these subjects at least a desire to make them appear in costumic pride ; yet there has evidently been more atten- tion bestowed to the fantastic wardrobe of theatres than to our ancient sculptures or paintings. Of all the periods distinguishing the excellence of English art, there is no point of time we can so well refer to for information on this head as in Edward's day : the per- formances both of the chisel and pencil are still numerous and in good preservation, either in our religious buildings or in the cabinets of the curious, these latter repositories storing up the beautiful missals, Windsor Castle. 263 etc. On this consideration, how can we account for our historic delineator touching so lightly on national documents, and marking with a zealous hand all the extravagance and whim found in the warehouses of masquerade tinsel and gewgaw finery ? I shall in the present instance only refer to one of the pictures : the scene, the interior of a sacred structure, wherein we see the great characters of the Edwardian Court brought together in devotional ceremony. The architecture, the decorations, are totally irrelevant not only to the taste of the age (many wonderful edifices of the fourteenth century awaiting in every part of the kingdom our admiration), but to monastic arrangement. Was ever a crowd of piously-disposed per- sonages so confusedly parcelled out — a Catholic altar so set forth, Catholic priests so robed, or Edward and his train so arrayed ? The female divisions of the noble throng display their charms in draperies purely fancied by the ingenious artist ; and how great the pity so much fine colouring, drawing, and effect should fall a sacrifice to that contempt which is so generally evinced for the study of our antiquities ! I now come to the painful part of my observations. Pacing from chamber to chamber, I arrived at length at those constituting the Henry and Elizabeth galleries, etc., where, as I have repeatedly observed, so many delightful interior room-finishings were to be met with, and how severely I suffered at witnessing their extermination ! Still, let me dwell on the subject, for, in truth, I cannot easily banish it from my mind. Those works being once gone, where can we find other the like authorities for our study in matters of this sort? Say we are commanded to imitate the accommodations and elegant fitting- up of apartments in our ancient mode : where fly for specimens ? to what old castle or mansion bend the eye ? . . . Moving towards the gateway dividing the upper and lower wards, in the way I took a parting look at Edward's Round Tower — at least, in its present form, as whispers are abroad that this tower is to be carried up fifty feet more in height. Of course, there will be an infinity of new parts introduced to make out the face of so much masonry. However, my belief that such an undertaking will not be carried into effect is superior to my apprehension that it will be carried into effect. Examining the west front of the above dividing gateway, a something impressed me that all was not right. My recollection failed me when I turned my thoughts to former visits to set my observations then and now at odds. I will start a question : Has this front been improved upon of late — that is, by repair or alteration ? It will be gratifying, certainly, to have this affair fully explained, as well as be the means of adding much consequence to the tenor of this survey. I am not over-impatient on this head, therefore let the tale come when it most conveniently may. St. George's Chapel. — The west front, which is beyond dispute a 264 Architectural Innovation. very fine elevation, seems to be entirely disregarded — or else, why is the door of entrance in the centre suffered to remain for ever shut, and not, as in other holy structures, thrown open upon all occasions of devotion ? Nay, upon the most solemn services, even such as gave rise to its foundation, is this grand obligatory introduction dispensed with. And for what reason, I trow ? A few low, un- interesting tenements (convenient they are, doubtless, to lodge some inferior members of the chapel) have been reared up before this principal pass, and it may be their humble roofs find more favour from the hand of dilapidation than the fated Tudor Gallery, which seems to fall even without a sigh ! The changes made in this front are in the west windows of the north and south aisles, by the loss of mullions and tracery ; the openings from this deprivation are neces- sitated to be barricaded up, like unto some prison-house of dreary cast. So much for improvement ! South Front. — I quickly encountered a something new done on this front, and that nothing less than a porch. Although this porch is of very circumscribed dimensions, yet it is made the principal entrance at all times, and even on the most solemn and important ceremonials. It seems this little passport to great renown was finished out of hand, previous to the late installation, in order to add a spark of splendour to the august assemblages ; but it must surely be allowed a very small portion of that day's blaze was emitted to the illustrious characters as they made their way, when each, from the restricted opening, was constrained to bow the head before the ceremonial of the order required them so to do. At any rate, one good effect was produced — no less than reviving an ancient custom at entering into a religious pile, that of bowing, which, with godly- disposed persons, might be taken for an act of profound devotion. After all, it is to be regretted that so noble an entrance is overlooked at the west front, which gives admittance to such a gorgeous scene, not alone when royal processions take place, but at each attendance of daily prayer. I waive giving an opinion of this porch, and for the same reason as I declined any stricture on its fellow-erection on the north side of the upper ward, being desirous to leave that good turn to others more partial to new than old specimens of architecture. Interior of the Chapel. — The pavement has been new laid, and in the modern way ; that got rid of was remarkable for the number and variety of sepulchral stones, inlaid with highly-curious and valuable brasses, rendering a choice display of historical and characteristic memorials, and at the same time admirably accompanying the rising walls on every side. What became of these relics I shall not set about to declare — why need I, indeed, express any concern for their loss, other than as an antiquary ? No line of ancestry is broken to which I am a distant branch. What is it to me who were the ancient religious of the pile, or how their robes adorned them, such members 1 Winds 07" Castle. 265 being oat of recollection, and such vestments useless? It is ever desirable to reconcile things, however. I now call to mind the stone gallery, or rood-loft, which sprung from the east and west piers of the north transept, and directly opposite to Sir Reginald Bray's Chapel. This gallery, I well remember, was a bold and masterly performance, and considered by those professional people to whom I owe my early knowledge of architecture to be one of the first efforts of masonic power remaining in the country. The removal of this flight of con- summate skill was the first object that fell under the general decree of alteration which has pervaded this chapel for some years past. This occurrence, indeed, should have been noted among the intro- ductory particulars in the first number of these Windsor observations. The great west window, now beaming with such religious and historic light in figures of saints, knights, and kings, contained in traceries the most delightful to the eye that can possibly be imagined, will soon— very soon — bear another semblance. Its vast opening is, according to common report, to be cleared of all these charming particulars, like unto the great east window, filled in consequence with an enormous painting of the Resurrection, to make room for another prodigious-sized glass-stained labour of the Day of Judgment. Finding the two west windows in the south and north aisles had got rid of those insignificant paintings which had been put up when first their mullions were destroyed (as already told), I became rather calm in my silent reprehensions, as two very good transparencies of the Nativity supply their places. If we must have modern objects conjoined with those so directly opposite, at least, it is more endurable to have respectable things thus introduced. There is a painting on panels in the south aisle of the choir that has lately been " restored," as it is termed. Of its condition before such attention was bestowed, see Carter's " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," vol. i. Adjoining these remains is a small monumental chapel, wherein are some curious pictures relating to the decollation of St. John. The architecture and dresses are strictly consonant to the taste of the fifteenth century, when they were pencilled, and are well preserved, having, I believe, escaped the hands of the picture-repairers, or other such dangerous assistants to works of art like these. At the east end of this aisle another painting on glass has been brought forward by the same master who executed the other new windows just enumerated. This last trial of skill in this way makes the fourth alteration in the window enrichments of the chapel, and, as we find a fifth is in contemplation (Day of Judgment, as above mentioned), it is not impossible the changeful mode may take its course round the whole edifice, and in process of time the very compartments, tracery, and ornaments on the walls — yea, the groins themselves — may be submitted to the hands of men who may be considered as fully adequate to substitute features in their room, more chaste and more sublime. Thus going 266 Architectural Innovation. on until at last Hollar's, Sandby, Carter's, etc., views of this interior may be construed (should they be in preservation at the time) as mere specimens in perspective, done at an hour when some mortal had put forth to view the model of a structure to charm an admiring age and to invite universal imitation. [1805, Part II, pp. 924-926.] Pursuing the description of St. George's Chapel, the next object that presents itself is the screen and gallery entering into the choir. This work is a new performance, not executed either in oak or stone, the usual materials made use of in our antiquities, but with a subter- fuge, a fictitious makeshift called "artificial stone," a composition made up, it is generally understood, with street-rakings, sand, ground glass, and I know not what, and then burnt together in a kiln. We know the properties of stone ; of this compound we have still to learn its lasting qualities. Confining our observations to the manufacture of this screen, it may be thus commented on : From the great size and variety of parts constituting the design, the whole was first obliged to be modelled in several pieces with clay, in order to make moulds from to cast therein each particular portion, previous to their being put into the kiln for hardening. Now, those who know the nature of clay wherewith to make models, find it im- possible to tool, in such a substance, forms so correct as if they were trying their skill either in wood or stone, hence the work cannot be perfectly true or sharp. Thus, when every particle is put together, after undergoing the above process, what with the different shrinkings of the baked materials and the inequality of the lines, the whole work affords a very unpleasant sight to the professional looker-on. For instance, the mouldings of the cornices and other horizontal dressings of this screen, instead of running straight or level, take an undulating course ; the perpendicular lines either overhang or fall back from the plinths, or bases, in many a turn of tortured shape. From these hints it necessarily follows the rest of the screen partakes of the like distortions. To speak of the design itself, it certainly is the -best imitation of our ancient architecture that has yet been produced, and I am inclined to believe that those who composed this perform- ance and the south porch are not one and the same artist. After all, I should be glad to know upon what reasonable grounds the original screen was thrown aside ; it surely was of sufficient importance so as to accord with the stall embellishments of the choir, to which it led — at least, the workers of those stalls, not yet fallen below estima- tion, thought it an appropriate appendage to the sublime display they had there set forth. Hollar's elevation of the old screen certainly enables us to give an opinion of its merits even from such a " shadow " so left us. Others, as well as myself (admirers of our antiquities), retaining in memory so excellent a work, will surely be always ready Windsor Castle. 267 to own with what particular satisfaction they beheld it when in existence. There was one peculiarity in the screen I could never reconcile to my good liking, and that was the square-headed doorway in the centre, a pointed one being always adapted to such situations. This remnant of the design has, notwithstanding all considerations, been retained to warrant, no doubt, the principal cast of the new organ-case, which seems in the whole turn of its features to have been guided by the square-headed appurtenance alluded to. How is all this to be reconciled likewise ? I have always held, and shall still continue to hold, an organ-case in the light of an odious decoration, obstructing the view of an interior from one end to the other, and which, in our ancient or religious edifices, so admirably calculated to be seen in a continued line, particularly in the upper tiers, demands the utmost attention. Nothing in our antiquities warrants this monstrous sort of case ; and organs used in former times (three or four in some cathedrals) were always placed on high without this disfiguring cover, and on the side of a choir or in some other unobtruding situation. To show the perverse minds of certain men : ancient altar-screens, which were erected to add a sublime effect to the most sacred part of a church, and to carry on the perspective interest of the scene, are by them pointed out as a deformity, by stopping up the view of the building, and, of course, advised to be destroyed ;* while with the same breath they endeavour to evince how needful it is to fill in the space dividing the nave from the choir with a dark mass of something,! in truth an organ case, as an appearance at once the most eligible and beautiful. Among the magic stall-work of the choir, I ever paid my chief attention to the Sovereign's stall. I have before me a large drawing that I made some years back of this particular stall, and cannot per- ceive a sort of bordered awning, which is now placed before the stall itself, thereon to hang curtains, etc. My guide assured me such awning had always been thus open to observation, I having expressed some doubts as to its being an original ornament. How is this to be settled in my account ? Within the arches beyond the stalls the partitions have certainly been altered. I cannot speak to this posi- tively, other than with regard to the removal of the iron screen or monument raised over the grave of Edward IV. Looking at Hollar's views, this screen stood rather within the arch, and its greater part projecting into the north aisle, without any fence or partition before it, and opening in full view to the altar. In my recollection, a par- tition entirely excluded it from sight. This screen is now once more in view, and pushed rather beyond the arch, advancing, as it were, into the choir, and a new sort of tracery fence (done in composition) worked up behind it. The back of this fence is converted into what is called a monument, wrought upon the modern system, and totally * Salisbury, Lichfield, etc. f Salisbury and Lichfield Cathedrals. 268 Architectural Innovation. unlike anything in our antiquities, with black marble columns and tablet, and an inscription thereon, to the memory of Edward IV. At the foot of this monument is a black marble slab, with another inscription in the centre to Edward. The contrivance of making the letters of both these inscriptions take the black letter make will not pass with antiquaries ; as such letters should have been set, accord- ing to the old way, either round the ledge of the tomb-part of the monument or round the ledge of the slab, and not in a tablet, and in the centre of the slab, as we here behold them. In the name of consistency, why affect to follow our antiquaries by piecemeal ? why pluck a bit of this, and purloin a morsel of that, and then, like^the half-approvers of forbidden and superstitious objects, know not how to select, or where to place their forced imitations ? These efforts to me seem egregious and ridiculous. The altar-screen owes its putting together to a late Windsor archi- tect, who set about things in this way at a time when architectural ideas fluctuated between the prevailing modes of building then p.n practice, and the modes used by our ancestors ; unwilling to set aside the former as of Roman and Grecian growth, and fearing to adopt the latter as being the produce of the " dark ages." There- fore, that he, the said Windsor professionalise might not incur un- pleasant reflections by leaning too much toward either system, he has packed together tripods, vases, with pointed shields and pointed arches — Adelphi ornaments with the Tudor traceries ! The time when this screen was composed, I repeat, was marked by architec- tural doubt and uncertainty. . . . The Great East Window. — While standing in the midst of the choir, and ruminating on the transparency before me, I said thus tojnyself : What is the end aimed at by knocking out the enrichments of this window in its mullions and tracery, stopping up the two adjoining windows north and south, and filling up a third in continuation on both sides with obscure opaque paintings of arms, etc. ? Is it that so large a transparency of the Resurrection as now takes; up < the whole opening should have the presumed effect of inspiring a thought that it is the first and most glorious appendage in the resplendent mound ? It is not for me to account for the introduction of such a performance, which, from the enormity of its size, and the prodigious vacuity it stands in, entirely acts at variance with the contour of the whole interior. Such a piece of handiwork in any other building, either on the Roman or Grecian plan, would have done honour to the painter, and high praise to the suggester of producing to the world so vast a specimen of coloured glass. Here is gained a trans- parent scenic exhibition, and here is lost one of the finest ancient terminations of a religious edifice the land could own. The first consequence raises a momentary applause, the second an enduring regret. What this window once was we cannot but remember; Knole. 269 what it is we but too plainly witness ; what it will be, inquire of the masons who destroyed the original parts, and the painter who has made good the opening so left by them. The mechanic patiently waits to give his assistance when the hour comes to require it j while (if report is true) the artist constantly attends to amend the fading tints, to which his utmost skill cannot insure a permanency. Were our ancient men of the chisel and the pencil kept to such profes- sional " watch and ward "? Did their stone or their glass labours ever evince this precarious, this imperfect halt of science? Sir Reginald Bray, the great architect, when he announced to his country that this royal chapel was completed, beyond a doubt left it with a hope that no hands but those of Time would ever be affixed to any part of this his all-perfect erection, to shake, to rend, to mutilate. Knole, near Sevenoaks (surveyed 1805). [1805, Part II, pp. IOI4, IO15.] This large and magnificent pile was erected by one of the later Archbishops of Canterbury, previous to the Reformation, such prelates delighting in its situation and residing much thereat. Cranmer, the pliant and obsequious contributor to forward every wish of his royal master, Henry VIII., rendered up this charming seat with the same facility as he had delivered up other things into Henry's hands. And why ? Because the monarch's eye was fixed upon the object ; it was inviting, and he had expressed a desire to enjoy and to take possession. Edward VI. passed these premises from the Crown to one of his favourites. Mary restored Knole to the See of Canterbury. Elizabeth gave it a second time into lay power, until at length it became vested in the Dorset family. Though this vast mansion bears the marks of alterations done in various ages, it still preserves the original outlines, forming a square mass of buildings of four fronts, duly placed to the cardinal points. The north front : On the centre is a large gateway flanked with projecting towers, and on each side a range of apartments for domestics. The alterations show on the attic story, and give the grotesque architecture of James I.'s reign, in semicircular and inverted pediments, with obelisk decorations, etc. East front : A continued line of domestic apartments, and in the same degree of alteration as the north front. South front : Little has been done to this range by way of alteration from the first design. The many bow-windows on the principal floor, full of state-rooms, appear, however, of a subsequent date, though still executed upon the old principle. In the centre of this front is the entrance from the gardens. West front : At the south-west angle the chapel remains in' nearly its pristine state. The range of this west front consists of state apartments, where, among its primaeval decorations, we find Architectural Innovation. James I.'s specimens of architecture in colonnades, pediments, and their obelisks, etc., have been introduced. If we term these par- ticulars the grotesque taste of his professional subjects, surely we may smile at the like fantastic spirit of our o>vn times, though of another species, in the modern pointed tracery filling up the semicircular arches of James's colonnade, and the modern improved pointed arches stuck into some of the projecting bow-windows. Passing through the north grand entrance, admission is had into the great court — uncommonly grand and striking. James I.'s archi- tects have done much, indeed, or too much, towards spoiling the symmetry of the original work, with their doorways, pediments, etc. Notwithstanding, there are, most fortunately for us antiquity-lovers, some considerable traces of a most noble gate of entrance on the south side, near which is the great hall. The interior of this hall is fitted up entirely in James I.'s style, with term-figures, half Roman, half English ; scrolls, pendants, masques, cartouches, twisted shields, leather-like foliage, and bone-formed fruits and flowers ; a mere gallymaufrey of depraved art, in carving and carpentering. Though I thus condemn this profusion of false taste displayed in this hall, and in most of the principal chambers, still the state of the arts prevalent at a distant period is thereby manifested ; and by their preservation a high honour is reflected on the possessors who have bestowed on this house such assiduous care, showing that the memory of the time which hailed them lords of so splendid a fabric is not forgotten. Saying thus much in vindication of what I have in part disapproved, what shall I argue in behalf of the modern and childish decoration of a portion of the interior of the chapel, which decoration has not the least claim on ancestorial regard? Here, while the beautiful windows preserve all their mullions and tracery, a ridiculous, pointed, coved ceiling has just been finished with stucco twisted basket twigs, by way of some resemblance (but as distant from a real imitation as the sickly taper's light is from that of the blazing sun !) to the entwined ribs of the groins of Gloucester Cathedral or Tewkesbury Abbey Church. And, by way of carrying on the work to the pitch of folly, the present prevailing and infatuated trick of painting stucco with stone joints in their various tints has been followed in these fantastic ribs. Reverting to the mode of decoration of James I.'s reign, it becomes a farther theme for commendation to behold in what estimation all the furniture of that period is held. I own my satisfaction on this account was great in the extreme. The chamber fitted up for James II. is a good school for the decorative display of his time. The bed called the Warming-pan Bed is a show term so very idle and disgraceful that in a house of such consequence as Knole it ought to be consigned to oblivion. Among the many valuable and excellent pictures there is a most Penshurst, near Tunbridge. 271 curious one of Henry VIII., with his "Walking-staff." In the state- chamber, now called the drawing-room, is a male portrait in the dress of Charles L's reign (by Vandyke), and by it a female in the dress of Mary's reign : these personages, by some palpable error, are termed man and wife. To prove with what care Vandyke copied the most minute article in the arraying of his figures, there is still preserved in the family the key that belonged to the above character when in the office of Lord Chamberlain. This very key I compared with the one drawn in the painting, and found it had been most scrupulously adhered to. Penshurst, near Tunbridge, Kent (surveyed 1805). [1805, Part IL, pp. 1126-1128.] In Domesday it appears this place was the residence of a family of the same name ; came to the Crown, temp. Henry VI. ; given by Henry to the Duke of Buckingham ; forfeited in the reign of Henry VIII. to that monarch. Edward VI. granted Penshurst to the Sidneys, in whose possession it has remained until the present time. When a mansion of such consequence as Penshurst becomes deserted (as is the case at this day), a melancholy gloom seems to pervade the whole pile ; and it may be truly said with regard to this place, "a rope of sand" now holds its venerable walls from being thrown to the earth : come but another breath of necessitous demand, and then the whole mass is no more ! The way has been shown how to lay the first stroke at these time-revered foundations. Not long ago a part of the north front was taken down, and the materials disposed of for some hundreds. By this blow the pale of ancestorial renown was broken in upon, was violated. If the pang of remorse was excited, what then ? The remedy was at hand, by fair sale and honest remuneration. If more dilapidatory attacks ensue, the less the sigh of compunction ; advantageous bargains will still prevail. Thus the hardening breast by degrees becomes reflection-proof; and all is — well ; ay, well. Who shall gainsay this ? The plan of the assemblage of buildings in themselves is irregular, although bounded by a general square outline, and standing to the four points. This line, I conceive, was originally filled up with erections agreeable to the first design, but in the lapse of ages has, according to the varying mode of construction, taken a confused series of uprights, as now seen. Among the many architectural specimens are found those marking the reigns of Henry II., Richard III., Henry VIIL, Elizabeth, James I., George II. and George III. The works done previous to the time of the four latter royal person- ages are distinct and independent, while the other masonic labours show those grotesque and fantastic interlardings and patchings-on so common to our ancient mansions. Notwithstanding, take Penshurst 272 Architectural Innovation. for all in all, there is an abundant display of architecture, not only to edify the professional student, but to interest and delight the curious visitant. North Front. — This is the grand range; the dimensions are immense, the style that of the time of Henry VIII. In the centre is the entrance, on which is stuck much of those Italian dressings introduced about Elizabeth's reign. It is to be observed, the entire range on the left of the entrance has lately been taken down, and the materials disposed of — which have since been reconstructed into a dwelling near Tunbridge, exactly, as it is said, on the old plan, and is now thought to be "a mighty pretty thing." It would have been as well if the pullers-down had dug up the foundations of the destroyed range, which, from the present desolated seeming thereof, must, to some minds, keep alive the tale of dilapidation. West Front. — This range is divided into five large parts, as thus : the two ends north and south, two receding lines of apartments, and in the centre a large projecting building, which I take to have been the chapel, by its plan, proportion, windows, etc. The design of this front (excepting the chapel, which is of a very remote date) is of the time of Henry VIII. The innovations are : Italian dormer windows, temp. James I., stuck among the battlements, and the clumsy sash frames, temp. George II., inserted in room of the tracery in the pointed windows of the chapel ; and in the left receding portion of the front is a pointed doorway and window upon the new improved system, temp. George III., which has been set up by way of trial how the whole front would appear if gone on with in this way, supposing some purchaser would advance more for keeping up the fabric than for pulling of it down. South Front. — But few of the elevations on this aspect can come in by way of a continued line, necessary to form a regular front, as they recede one after the other, from the south to the north ex- tremity of the whole range. However, this retiring fort of construc- tion is not without picturesque effect ; which, at least, may be held sufficient to gratify the sight in a variety of square and octangular towers, buttresses, battlements, etc. At the western extremity of this front is the return of the south-west tower, which has suffered much by innovations, temp. George II., the first and second stories having had stuck on a Venetian doorway, and windows in the Doric and Ionic manners. Fast Front. — The elevations, as in the preceding front, partake of the like remarkables, in receding objects, picturesque effect, and many fine embellishments that have hitherto escaped the fang of in- novation. On this aspect of the mansion lie the pateras, terraces, where, at some distance from the main building, stands a large square tower, once forming one of those intermediate outworks which at certain distances served to connect the exterior defensive walls Pens/iurst, near Tttnbridge. 273 round a castellated mansion, as it appears this place was so con- sidered. Passing through the grand entrance, on the north front, the great court is the next particular to engage attention, where, immediately opposed to the eye, is the hall. The workmanship is of the time of Richard III., and in a superior style. The entrance is on the north side, through a porch flanked with an octangular tower. Above the windows are receding arches, the whole design set fotth with buttresses, and embattled. The tracery to the window over the porch is most beautiful, and by the remnants left of the tracery to the windows of the hall, they must have been most exquisite. It is painful to observe these latter traceries have been cut away, in part to introduce the clumsy sash frames, temp. George II.; and the lanthorn to the roof of the hall has been, at the same period, modernized into a bell-turret. The dressings to the side elevations of the court, temp. Henry VIII. The interior of the porch is fine, in the doorways, the door itself, and the groins, which work is well preserved. At entering into the hall, directly above the head, is the minstrels' gallery ; on this end of the hall is a double archway leading to the kitchen and buttery, etc. The front, or screen, of the minstrel's gallery is richly finished, where, in many of the open compartments, are placed wood-carved figures, originally put up as supporters to the springings of the timbers of the open-worked roof. These carvings certainly should be removed, as they pass with ignorant people as making a part of the gallery itself. Against the wall above this gallery are hung various armours and weapons, made in the time of Elizabeth ; among them is the suit of armour worn (as it is said) by Sir P. Sidney when he was killed in Flanders. This famous relic of heroic adornment is foully disgraced by having attached to the knee-pieces a pair of "jack-boots," temp. William III. To speak out, the whole of this collection of military array, which so strongly corroborates the warlike achievements of the illustrious house, is most shamefully neglected, and suffered to be purloined away by piecemeal. The hall, from its true proportion, its windows, and open-worked timber roof, is truly grand. Yet, the satisfaction derived from commenting on the several arrangements is much weakened in beholding, at the upper end of the hall, a paltry endeavour to deceive the eye by a scenic painting, as representing a continuation of the hall, etc. The above effect evinces the low ebb of decorative taste temp. George II. At this part of the hall a descent is had into a crypt (now the cellar), of a design the most pure and excellent that can possibly be adverted to. The length consists of a double aisle, divided by columns supporting arches and groins — the style temp. Henry II. The proportions perfect, as is the masonry, nay, perfect at this day remains the entire work, not one stone has shrunk from its first jointing, or bedding. On the vol. x. 18 274 Architectural Innovation. south side of the hall is an ancient stone staircase, ascending in an octangular figure ; the tracery of the window, excellent, as is the groin work, etc. Thus, as if it was judged absolutely necessary, when making old mansions commodious, consonant to modern ideas of taste, a little innovation must ensue ; on the square plat- bands of the ribs of the groins, stucco, gallochi, and other Italian ornaments, have been stuck ; the walls, likewise, come in for the same share of attention. As we have very few ancient staircases to recur to of this kind (circular, or newel, stairs being out of the question), too much cannot be said in commendation of so rare an example. Ranging through the infinity of chambers on the several stories of this vast assemblage of buildings, many are found as fitted up temp. Henry VIII. ; but the major part of them, and those called state- rooms, are the fittings-up of George II. 's reign. There are some apartments of a still later date, and among them a staircase, more spoke of for the sum it cost than for the elegance it possesses. Willing to maintain the part of a faithful narrator, though, perhaps, at the expense of the critic's smile, I mention a chamber which is pointed out as being "haunted." Most true, an old country residence without such an auxilary aid to inspire a sort of terrific admiration among the visitants at large, must lose half its attractions, and few but those bound with the chains of antiquarian delight would be found to attend Penshurst at all. In consulting the history of the place in the lives of possessors, I find four names have shifted off this " mortal coil " by violent deaths. The Duke of Buckingham, temp. Richard III.; Duke of Buckingham, temp. Henry VIII. These two dukes were beheaded for treason. Sir P. Sidney, killed in Flanders ; and a short space back, a young Sidney was drowned in the park, not far from the mansion, while bathing, and the very servant who attends to show the house jumped in at the hazard of his own life to save the unfortunate youth, but without success. Here is groundwork for a ghost in truth ! In concluding my survey let me further note : every chamber in this structure is full of all kinds of furniture, of various fashions, from the time of Charles II. to the present hour. The collections of pictures are numerous and valuable ; some as far back as the fourteenth century, comprising interesting family portraits by the first masters, with historical and other subjects. It is hardly necessary to say from these circumstances, and from the importance of the house itself, that few ancient residences in the kingdom are more worthy the notice of the traveller than Penshurst; and yet, after all, I doubt if it will be credited by those who have not been on the spot, that this extra- ordinary remains of historic proof, this invaluable repository of the arts, is totally forsaken by the owners, and shut up as though it was an empty house to be let, or ready to be sold for the value of Church Towers. 275 the materials. A person there is, most certainly, who resides in a cottage near at hand, to show the house, for a pecuniary recompense, to all those who come for that purpose. The church, that stands by the mansion, is a handsome edifice, On the south side of the churchyard is the greater part of an ancient wood building, showing some enrichments in a good style. In the centre of the design is a large opening or gateway, giving entrance to the churchyard. There is something peculiarly striking in this intro- duction to the holy mound, which should not be passed without the strictest attention. Church Towers. [1805, Part II, pp. 1 191, 1 192.] There is a part of our antiquities which seems to have escaped general observation ; that is, the interiors of great or centrical towers to churches. This circumstance does not proceed altogether from neglect, but from such interiors being shut out from view by means of ceilings being thrown over from the four great arches usually sup- porting such towers. The use of the ceiling has no other end than to accommodate a set of bellringers, who, probably from a supposed benefit to their recreation, always choose to be as far as possible from the upper story containing the bells. This method of hiding the ascending flights of stories within the interior of towers appears to have been first resorted to temp. Henry VI. and VII., as many fine- groined coverings or ceilings were then set up, as at Canterbury, Gloucester, and Wells cathedrals, etc. These interiors, no doubt, were formerly intended to have the same effect on the uplifted eyes as domes in Roman architecture, yet with this difference : the former displays served, by their upright and vanishing lines, their aerial perspective, to lose the termination of each design in regions of geometrical refulgence ; while the latter appearances revealed all their properties at one view, keeping a sort of middle way, and con- fining, by the continued line of a circle, the eye to familiar forms and readily conceived construction. Take the stories of a tower as they rise, each tier soon becomes, from the variety of perpendiculars, a continued and interesting attraction to the mind in its deepest research, affording at the same time almost incomprehensible specu- lation to modern professionalists how, and which way, such majestic elevations were brought to that standard of perfection we now behold them. The first interior of a tower which I shall notice is that of St. Mary Overy's Church, Southwark. The height of the tower above the four supporting arches is divided into stories, and decorated with columns and arches. These fine-wrought objects are hid from view by an obtruding ceiling (such as mentioned above). — Abbey Church, St. 18—2 276 Architectural Innovation. Albans. The centre tower, fine tiers of columns and arches, hid by an obtruding ceiling. — Gloucester Cathedral. Centre tower, fine tiers of arches, etc., hid by an obtruding ceiling. — Wells Cathedral. Centre tower, splendid tiers of columns and arches, and hid by an obtruding ceiling. It is needless to quote any more of our great churches for proofs of this sort. Those edifices of inferior degree, called parish churches, have also their proportion of enrichments of this kind, and are also shut out from observation by obtruding ceilings. Coming to more confined ecclesiastical dimensions, it may be well to particularize the interior of the centre tower of Merton College Chapel, Oxford. Above the usual obtruding ceiling, at a certain height, tri-clustered brackets, filled with perforated tracery, project from the four angles of the tower, they supporting four arches, which arches run parallel with the four sides of the tower ; and, by way of adding sufficient strength, and at the same time yielding an admirable feature, the centre tri-clustered bracket diverges groin-wise, and by a curious ramification strikes out into a circular cove, uniting the whole work described so as to give a most uncommon and re- markable effect. The cove then opens into a spacious circular gallery, faced with arched recesses. Among the lines various carvings of shields and figures of angels are introduced. This ingenious and beauteous performance is executed in oak. The remaining portion of the tower is occupied by the bell-chamber. That such a matchless piece of carpentry and carving should be lost to the public is really a mortifying reflection. I have, indeed, but to announce that the work is of the Edwardian era to stamp on it the character of con- summate excellence. Perchance, if this interior was laid open agreeable to its original intent, the same spirit of envy that havocked Edward III.'s glorious chapel of St. Stephen, Westminster, might here also, by a baleful influence fatal to our antiquities, hurry on its destruction also. My apprehension on this particular occasion almost instigates me to suppress this piece of intelligence. Hope resumes its throne. Architectural innovation yet may be at rest ere all our brightest ornaments of ancient art are breathed on by such a direful contagion. It is rather extraordinary that among the hidden treasures of the kind I have been discoursing on there is but one example (at least within my knowledge) that has escaped this immured state of neglect, and that is the great centre tower of Durham Cathedral. This part of the general design of the church stands as the diadem of masonic power, not alone as taken in a general sense, but in a particular manner as illustrative of the present subject. Vain would be the task in endeavouring to give adequate ptaise to so extraordinary an interior. Something, indeed, by way of affording an idea of its con- structure and decorations may be had by consulting the plans, eleva- tions, and sections of Durham Cathedral, published by the Society Stamford, Lincolnshire. 277 of Antiquaries. This expensive and laborious undertaking of the learned body of presenting to my countrymen at large a series of our cathedrals from the long interval between the Durham collection and the promised one of Gloucester, in order to carry on the grand project, seems to prognosticate that the whole business is on the wane. Stamford, Lincolnshire. [1806, Parti., pp. 33-35-] St. Marys Church. — The great tower, forming the west front, is peculiarly striking. The upright is divided into five stories, filled with columns and arches. The style, the early-pointed arch, with its own stock of mouldings, ornaments, etc., Salisbury Cathedral- wise. The spire, of later work, rises in an octangular form, much enriched with canopied windows, etc. The masonry is truly ad- mirable.* St. John's and All Saints Churches are fine edifices, full of enrich- ments, and present many desirable specimens of art. In some parts of the town are valuable remnants attached to old houses, as niches, canopies, doorways, windows, etc. The Grey Friars' Gate is a pure design, and well preserved. The chapel of St. Leonard's Hospital is a precious object : the style, Saxon ; the parts not over-rich or too plain, possessing the happy medium in design. This chapel has long been the subject of praise among curious men, from the days of Peck, who wrote the " History of Stamford," to the present time. The elevation is in three stories. The basement story: a large door- way in the centre, with detached columns and an ornamented arch ; on each side are recesses partaking of the same particulars. The second story shows a colonnade with windows. The third story: one window, its shape composed of two segments of a circle joined perpendicularly, producing a pointed arch top and bottom ; the design finishes pedimentwise.f This chapel is now used as a store- house for bark, faggots, etc. Tickencote. This place lies about three miles from Stamford, on the road to Grantham. It was in 1780 I, by direct mission, surveyed the church. I state this circumstance as at the time of this my present journey, this remarkable building, this other jewel in the sight of antiquity's followers, has been what is called "rebuilt" — an operation, it is well known, when an ancient English edifice is the object, that leaves no inducement to such a person as me to go and scrutinize. :{: On this * Engraved in Carter's "Ancient Architecture of England." + Engraved in "Ancient Architecture." + The improvements of St. Margaret's Church, Westminster, tell what fate must have befallen Tickencote, as the same architect had the handling of both. 278 A rchitectural Innovation. consideration I shall submit a particular detail of this church as I witnessed it at the above date. The building gives two parts : a body and chancel. The chancel is Saxon; the body of the Tudor style; of common, simple work, and added, it is thought, to give room. The plan of the chancel is nearly a square, 36 feet by 30 feet in the mass. The western part is entirely made out by the entrance, which is enriched to an excess. On each side are five columns, with highly ornamented capitals. The arch partakes of an oval shape, a figure not wholly confined to this specimen ; its architrave, which extends beyond the spread of the columns, is struck into seven parts : 1. Mouldings ; 2. oxes' skulls ; 3. flowers and frets united ; 4. a curious and extraordinary collection of masques, ornaments, costumic heads, grotesque figures, etc. ; 5. diagonals ; 6. other diagonal forms ; 7. plain squares and indents. The original colouring of this entrance is, in many parts, visible. North side : An intersecting arched dado with columns ; two windows, with columns, etc. Columns rise between the piers of the windows to the top of the building. East side : Grand and rich. The height, though of no great dimension, is divided into five ranges or stories. The first, or dado range, has the continua- tion of the intersecting arches, with columns, etc. Second : plain, excepting the east window placed in the centre. Third : recesses with columns. Fourth : recesses ; in the centre of this and the third range, a large recess, and near its head a small opening, light- ing the roof. Fifth : three small recesses. Between each range there is a string, and at the angles of the elevation rise clusters of columns to the top of the building ; similar single columns are like- wise between the recesses. The capitals, architraves, and strings are full charged with diagonals and other adornments.* Though much of the work has been havocked, still the greater part of the intention is left, and fully sufficient to enable a " religious " restora- tion, allowing, for a moment, there was a necessity for such a job. North side : Much havoc, indeed, and altered in later times ; seg- mented pointed windows stuck in, and, still coming downwards, two trifling Tudor windows mock the others by being worked up within them. The interior of this chancel is extremely simple compared with the exterior. Plain columns at the angles, and at the centre of the two sides, north and south, from which spring groins. The ribs have treble-rowed diagonals uniting in the centre, with a circular ornamented boss. East window, plain columns, with a diagonal architrave to the arch. There is a rise of three steps to the space before the site of the altar. The decoration in the south porch of the body of the church being Saxon, I conceive that it was brought from some other fabric, and stuck into the wall in its present * Engraved in " Ancient Architecture." Grantham, Lincolnshire. situation. The object is a doorway, simple, though of elegant design. The opening has been reduced to a smaller doorway, with a pointed head ; and on the door itself a most beautiful pierced iron ring. In the south wall of the body is an early-pointed arch recess (another removal) with a stone coffin, the lid bearing a cross and vine leaves. On the pavement, in a recess on the south side of the chancel, is a very early carving in oak of a knight, in the usual prostrate, praying attitude, his feet supported by a lion. Grantham, Lincolnshire. Angel Inn. The front consists of two stories, in stonework. The centre a straight face, and at the extremities bows. A large archway in said centre. Above (second story) a beautiful bower, or small bow- window. Buttresses rising the whole height next occur. Single windows succeed, right and left, on both stories. The bows complete the elevation, having each three windows on the different stories. The parapet has diamond compartments with shields. The devices and ornaments introduced on this front are characteristic, and well adapted. Heads of a king and queen on each side the doorway. On the buttresses angels playing on a crwth, dulcimer (18 strings), and a cittern (guittern, guitar). The bower window is supported by the figure of an angel (a lovely performance), holding a crown. Above the angel's head, and making out the base of the bow, is a succession of smaller angels. In the entablature are posture-masters, grotesque heads, an elephant and castle, birds, beasts, etc. Taking this design all together, it contains every desirable requisite to satisfy the most scientific eye — regularity of lines, just proportion, and exquisite workmanship ; yet the hand of innovation has not been satisfied, for the tracery to the windows is knocked out for the monstrous propensity of inserting, in such places, modern sash frames. The style of the work is in the time of King Henry VII. Among the many ancient stone houses dispersed about, disgraced by the alterations of our day, there is one left in its original, uncontaminated state. The centre a square projection of three stories, one window to each story, and a smaller one to the profile. On the left, a window to each story. On the right a large doorway, one window above. There is a rich run of compartments and shields under the centre window on the second story. The entablature is much enriched. Style of the workmanship temp. Henry VII. While noting the features of this choice example, the standers-by told me that " the master of the house was mad, for he neither would have it made to look decent, like the residences of his 28o Architectural Innovation. neighbours, nor would he ever stir out but in the night, and that was for the purpose of hunting by moonlight." [1806, Part I., pp. 117-120.] Behind some houses, nearly opposite the Angel Inn, is a most curious small chapel or oratory. On the exterior, the east end and the north and south sides are seen ; the western side, at present, being open to some attached chambers of modern sort. In a remnant building, running from the south side of the chapel, is an ancient doorway, which originally might be the only entrance into it. Above the chapel is a second story, but shows not anything remark- able in the interior. By the flat-pointed arch to the doorway, and the square-headed windows with pointed lights within them, it may be affirmed the design was executed temp. Henry VII. Above the doorway is the bust of a female, supposed the foundress ; and in the spandrels of the arch are prostrate figures of a king and a bishop ; there being in a compartment between them the Holy Ghost in the likeness of a dove. Over the lower windows are bustos of angels and an ornamented frieze. The interior, 8 feet square and 9 feet hLh, is enriched with a profusion of sculptures, and in a way rather uncommon. On the north side, sculptures (in basso-relievo) fill the pier between the two windows and the space on the left. The south side is occupied in like manner. The east-end has sculp- tures on the pier between the two windows. The ceiling, which rises pediment or roofwise from the two sides of the structure, leav- ing a pediment-space over the east windows, is entirely filled with sculptures. This extraordinary relic, though now serving for culinary purposes, is tolerably preserved, every object being very intelligible and sa'isfactory. Notwithstanding the confined dimensions above stated, several of the particulars are comparatively small to others, which, for reasons known at the time of their formation, were judged necessary to be so varied, appearing, however, to some who presume to give an opinion on the business as a sort of inconsistent display. North Side. — In the space on the left of the windows are many ornaments, a crucifixion, with Mary and John ; so made out as to show the black-letter monogram 3J.l^.i&. In the pier of the window a crucifixion, etc. On the sides of this last sculpture are niches with figures of saints. The frieze over the windows is filled with angels. The half of the ceiling rising on this side of the chapel has the evangelical symbols, the lion and eagle ; an angel holding a shield bearing the instruments of our Lord's Passion; an angel ditto, with the cross and wounds of our Lord ; St. John with the lamb, attended by St. Margaret and St. Catherine ; angels in niches, etc. South Side. — In the space on the right of the windows; ornaments, a crucifixion, etc., correspondent to the work on the north side. In the pier of the window, our Lord rising out of the sepulchre and His Grantham, Lincolnshire. 281 ascension ; accompanying niches, with saints, etc. Angels in the frieze. The half of the ceiling rising, also on this side, shows the Eternal Father seated; two angels censing; the formation of man ; Abraham offering Isaac; the Root of Jesse, Jesse at the bottom; David with his harp in the centre, and at the top our Lady with the Infant Jesus ; the evangelical symbols, the angel and ox ; niches with angels, etc. East End. — In the pier of the windows the crucifixion is given twice, one over the other. Accompanying niches with figures of saints, etc. Frieze filled with angels. In the centre of the pediment- space is the Trinity, shown by the Father holding up the Son ; and above the head of the latter, and on the breast of the Father, is the Holy Ghost in the form of a dove.* During my examination of this chapel, I was given to understand that it was to be pulled down and the materials sold, either to be reconstructed in some more eligible (say fortunate or venerated) spot, or to be broken to pieces to mend the roads. By this time it is more than probable nothing remains of this sacred place ; a bare recollection that once such a structure was existing is all that can be looked for. St. Wulfran's Church, renowned for its lofty tower and spire, ranking among the more exalted erections of this kind, as that at Salisbury, Chichester, Boston, Coventry, etc. Notwithstanding the abundant praise that has ever gone with such objects — for, indeed, to look at them is to be charmed —there are some minds who, throwing aside all their sensibility and better judgment (allowing they ever were possessed of any), take upon them to scowl on such airy trials of art, and observe, "Spires in themselves are false geo- metrical figures, never making any part of the finishing of church towers in their first designs, a mere after-thought in succeeding ages, and run-up more for the intent of sea and land marks than for any other purpose in regard to beauty or elegance." The spire that has been most objected to on this principle is the unfortunate one at Salisbury. Many scribes and many builders have exhausted much sophisticated argument and much professional proof, to persuade us how much better the cathedral (now in a reformed, or transformed state) would appear if this unclassical accompaniment were disposed of. Blowing hot that way, these very argumentators with the same breath, blowing cold this way, assert that the great tower of Durham Cathedral is an incomplete performance ; because, forsooth, it is not decorated with a spire, and have laboured hard to make a beginning on such an aspiring project. Thus while a spire in the west is held as a deformity, a spire in the north, if set up, would be considered as mighty pretty and " quite the thing." Destroy the deformity, * Engraved in Carter's " Ancient Sculpture and Painting," with explanations by J. Milner, D.D. 282 Architectural Innovation. because no one knows who was the architect; construct the new thing, because everyone knows who would be the architect. Thus pullers-down and setters-up employment would command. Under this Grantham ecclesiastical fabric is a fine crypt, composed of three aisles, corresponding with the three aisles of the super- structure, having columns, arches, and groins, forming the basement to the whole fabric.* Nearly the whole of the crypt is piled up with human bones. . . . Newark. The exterior of the great church is superb (did not see the interior) ; mullions and tracery of excellent design fill the windows, and on different parts of the building are niches with statues and other decorations. The Castle. — The north front overlooking the river is the most perfect, having a large square tower at the north-east angle, and another in the centre of the elevation. Between these great features, on the principal story, and among some large magnificent windows, is an excellent projecting bower window. Tne general outline of the plan of this castle is a square ; dimensions prodigious. The number of stories, by examining the north front, seem at least to have been five. The arrangements to so vast a pile must have been numerous and grand. Within the exterior walls nothing remains ; and the plot is entirely taken up for a bowling-green ; here is theme for the moralist again, but of a far different cast from the sensations imbibed in the receptacle for dead men's bones, where late we trod and marvelled. No fund was wanted for "gutting" this proud mound; no, the said fund has been, no doubt, made up since by sale of materials, etc. How comes it the possessors, lordly or plebeian, left yet so much on hand ? . . . Southwell, Nottinghamshire. The town itself has not anything worthy of notice; therefore attention must be solely directed to the collegiate church, founded 630, being the earliest date, St. Augustine's, Canterbury (605), ex- cepted, we have on record of a building among us now in existence. The church has sustained little alteration, otherwise than in some of the windows, which have given place to the pointed ones of the fourteenth century. I own my notes on this fabric were taken, not in that general way I could at this time have wished; as surely there are (taking into consideration the very remote date) many particulars of the strongest import. However, I submit my remarks, trusting a second visit (in preparation) will fully recompense the present defi- ciency. In the surrounding wall of the religious mound, and on the north side, is a pointed gateway, with reducing parapets : the opening * Engraved in "Ancient Architecture of England." Southwell, Nottinghamshire. 283 has been stopped up. At this spot, in point of scenery, this gateway occupying the foreground, and the chapter-house and north side of the church seen beyond it, has a very picturesque effect. On the west side of the surrounding wall is another gateway, Saxon, and of the plainest architecture; well impressing the belief, that the general works here were raised in the sixth century. The parts of this gate- way are plain jambs, and an abacus, supporting a semicircular arch with two facias by way of architrave.* Above the head of the arch has been fixed, probably in the fourteenth century, a recess, with an ogee head (statue gone). Through this gateway a direct view is had of the west front of the church, the chapter-house on the left, and some ruined monastic buildings on the right. It is hardly necessary to say, the appearance of this scene is at once striking and grand, venerable also from thought, that for more than a thousand years this picture has lasted. West Front. — Made out by two lofty square towers parcelled off into seven stories, and decorated with windows and arched recesses. Between tower and tower, in two stories, is the west doorway and great window. The towers are capped with lofty square spires, quite plain ; these square finishings I conceive to be far more ancient than those we commonly witness in octangular forms : perhaps they are not coeval with the towers, yet still they have at present their interest in man's eye. The west doorway, two large windows in the towers, and the still larger one in the centre of the front, are, as above stated, late insertions, having pointed heads and much tracery work. Over the centre window are battlements, another departure from the first design, which is Saxon, and in its purest dress. North Side. — Taking in the transepts, it is constructed in five stories ; between the windows, breaks or pilasters. The upper story has remarkable circular windows : the elevation terminates with a parapet, being its own proper completion. The porch on this front is in strict unison with the rest of the parts. The great centre tower s rather low. My judgment may be at fault in this respect, the ex- ceeding lofty towers pressing on the sight in every district of the land must be my apology if I err in this decision. This tower has two tiers of recesses, proper parapet, etc. The chapter-house (on the north side of the church), in plan, is an octagon ; bearing strong resemblance to those of Wells and Salisbury. The ruined buildings mentioned in the general view are sumptuous, having large and rich traceried windows. Here are some peculiar chimneys, the tops of which are devised into small chapels, with windows for the dismissal of smoke, etc. I must again express my concern that memory alone can in any- wise help me to say aught about the interior of the edifice with refer- ence to the architecture in the elevations, etc. ; but if that faculty of * "Ancient Architecture." 284 Architectural Innovation. the mind can be depended on, I may venture to affirm, the columns, arches, the galleries, windows, groins, mouldings, and ornaments, are truly genuine, and full of that infinite variety that peculiarly charac- terizes, and which, perhaps, gives to Southwell a celebrity that cannot be found in any other fabric. However, that I may not leave this curious church without note of some remarkable remains, I shall with much satisfaction comment on the avenue leading from the church to the chapter-house. The dado parts below the windows have recesses with columns and arches enriched with costumic heads. The pointed windows have pleasing tracery, and the groins are light and beautiful. The double entrance into the chapter-room is replete with grace ; the ornaments belonging thereto are many, and excellent in their kind. Among the above cos- tumic heads are a king, a queen, a bishop, ladies of various degrees, heads of eminent men,* etc., the whole collection marking the age of Henry II., as doth the architecture also. There is another subject which must be minutely described ; indeed, panegyric might be exhausted on its merits, and it may be surmised (not without reason) that I was so fascinated with my memo- randa, that I even forgot and neglected the prime characters of the interior itself. You then that dwell with more than common satis- faction at mention of the architecture of our third Edward's day, hear ! The screen entering into the choir owns the pride of that meridian hour of art. The work to the nave has three large openings, in arches, with columns and slender buttresses between them ; at each end of the design are appropriate recesses. The several arches are bounded by pediment finishings, and a suitable entablature completes the whole. The interior of this screen (adequate description fails me) returns the work of the exterior arches, composing a kind of cloister of three divisions. The ends, north and south, full of the richest and most delightful tracery. The groins, in their ever-consummate proof of ancient geometrical power, are here constructed in a way peculiar to themselves ; there are no spandrels to the ribs, they being left to seek their pointed flight independent of any such seeming assistance; in the diagonal line behind the ribs there is open tracery filling in that narrow space. Nothing can exceed the lightness, and, it may be said, the magic touch of these vaulted bows. In the front next the choir, the principal portion of the design is carried on, and with increased embellishments. The centre arch corresponds with that on the nave front ; the spaces right and left are divided into three parts each, and into two stories. The lower story contains three small arches on each side ; the internal work groined, and serving as stalls for the dignitaries. The stories above form galleries, with open compart- ments that are glazed, etc. The minutiae of mouldings and orna- ments are delicate and rich to excess. In fine, this screen may be * " English Ancient Sculpture and Painting." Doncaster. 285 held as one of the gems of ecclesiastical decoration in this part of the north ; a jewel most worthy to be prized, and by those men of taste and discernment who have, to the high honour of this church, so long kept it unsullied and free from all dilapidation, or more fatal improvement. Ye despoilers of Edward's architectural glories, if ever you chance to stumble on this refulgent piece of workmanship, be tender, be merciful ; and as some retribution for strokes already inflicted, touch with a gentle hand, your eyes blessed with a new sight, this tremb- ling remains ; and should you (which science by her protection per- mit) see aright, have pity on its matchless properties, and let it still endure. An age to come expects it ; therefore once more, have mercy ! Doncaster (1790). [1806, Part I., pp. 220-222.] St. George's Church is much decorated ; the plan — a body, side aisles, transepts, chancel, etc. The west window, the tracery elabo- rate and intricate ; the other windows are numerous, and between each are buttresses ; on every height are battlements, etc. In the centre of the building is a lofty tower, enriched with two stories of windows, buttresses, pinnacles, and open parapets. The interior of the edifice showed not anything deserving particular notice. Conisborough Castle (three miles west of Doncaster). According to Mr. Browne's account of this castle (vol. lxxi., p. 201), he traces the foundation as far back as 487. (We, in our last essay, had affirmed St. Augustine's, Canterbury, to be the most remote edifice on date.) This gentleman has entered into the minutiae of the works, as if the arrangements were then perfectly visible to him, when I declare on my part, from the extreme confused and dilapi- dated condition of the walls, they seemed past description. Here might be some inattention in me; however, the keep being the grand object of investigation, I shall confine my remarks to that head. The plan, a circle 53 feet diameter ; six buttresses, 9 feet wide and 9 feet deep, are attached to the circle at regular distances, leaving six spaces 16 feet each. In the space to the south-east is the entrance, to which is an ascent of many steps— the elevation. The doorway on said south-west space has a square head, and over it a circular one. No windows on the first story. The second story has a window over the doorway with two lights square-headed, with a circular head over them. There are on this story, to the north- west and south-east, two other windows. Third story : two similar lights, and in the south-west buttress four small windows. From the 286 A rchitectural Innovation. havocked appearance of the upper part of the walls, it is impossible to ascertain if there was ever a fourth story. Interior. — The opening of the doorway is continued through the wall, 15 feet thick, into the first story, which is made out in one circular room 23 feet diameter; walls plain. In the centre of the floor is a four-feet opening, below the dungeon, headed with a circular cove. At the right of the entrance doorway, in the thickness of the wall, is a staircase to the second story, cut in the sweep of the wall. The second story gives the window (large and noble in this internal view) over the entrance ; opposite a rich chimneypiece, with double columns, the capitals full of ornaments; the mantel plain, but curious from the scientific mode of jointing the stone-work. Between these two decorations, at regular distances, are two circular-headed door- ways ; one from the lower story staircase, and the other passing up to the third story by winding stairs. Third story: a double-column chimneypiece, plain mantel, circular-headed doorways corresponding to those on second story; one enters from the stairs of second story, and the other goes to the top of the walls by winding stairs also. Thus to each floor entrance was had on one side, while on the other side the further ascent was gained. Two windows are also seen over each doorway. As there are no floors remaining to the second and third stories, and being anxious in the extreme to try the truth of the report, that within a doorway on the third story something extraordinary was to be seen, I procured a ladder, and mounted up to the stairs leading to the third story, which, having ascended, I found myself at the doorway of third story. At this situation are left, projecting from the wall, a few stone brackets, once supporting the floor. Here I was encouraged by my attendant, who said, "Step on one of these brackets, hold fast by your right hand by the groove of this door, and, with your left hand stretched forth, grasp the groove of an adjoining doorway; then, by a confident spring, throw yourself within that doorway, and your point is gained." Well, my exertion was fortunate ; and, behold, there appeared a small chamber, of such choice and excellent design, that too much cannot be said in its description or its praise. The work Saxon ;* of course so is the whole keep. Indeed the date must have prepared my readers on this head. Dimensions 15 feet by 8 feet* The length is divided into two parts by columns, the further part partaking of an octangular figure. The head-way is groined. At the end is a window with columns, and a circular head. On the cants of the octagon are circular windows, and below them niches, with heads of three turns. In the first division of this chamber (constructed within the thickness of this south-west buttress, the external windows of which are spoken of in the elevation), on the left, is a square-headed doorway, leading * Termed by Mr. Browne, "Gothic." Doncaster. 287 into a very small cell (cut in the thickness of the general wall) with a loophole, and remnant of a certain stone convenience. Referring to the chamber just described, the capitals are highly charged with ornaments ; the architraves to the windows have the diagonals, as have the ribs to the groins, the centres of which are connected by very rich bosses. From the survey of this chamber, it might at first be termed an oratory; yet, as the end window bears to the south- west, this conjecture must be given up. It certainly is impossible to assign a name to so confined an interior, considering the early period when executed, in order to accommodate it to the habits of our Saxon ancestors; which habits we must not call either "rude" or " uncivilized," when they have left behind them so rare a piece of workmanship.* In the churchyard of the adjoining village is a tomb, it may be affirmed, coeval with the castle. The sculptures on it are most curious. On one side is Adam and Eve tasting the forbidden fruit; then succeed (making out the length of the stone) compartments with birds and beasts. On the other side a warrior, with sword and shield, fighting a dragon ; a bishop attending. On the top, a conflict between two warriors ; one is overthrown. May not this be a memo- rial of the defeat of Hengist, the Saxon general, spoken of by Mr, Browne ?f On the wayside from Ferry-bridge to Pontefract (distance three miles) a stone is set up; the sculptures bespeak it Roman. A circular- headed recess, with an eagle; foliage, twisted bands, paterae, etc. J The road entering upon Pontefract is cut through a rock, from whence is seen a large solitary uninhabited mansion. The mass of the building square, with towers at each angle. Architecture temp. Henry VIIL, though on some shields with arms is a date 1591. The doors being open, I made my way in, not without that portion of tremor usual on such occasions, which silence and the look of these deserted places ever inspire. . . . Pontefract. To speak of this place altogether, it seemed to me as having lately undergone a siege, and little or no means taken to raise it from such a miserable plight. The castle an entire ruin, a rich and elegant church in ruins also. The Castle. — Within the precinct or liberty of this woful spot are some remnants of offices ; and against one of them is set up the greater part of a statue havocked almost to a nondescript sculpture ; it may be judged to be the statue of a knight. When we look at the extensive and magnificent works of this castle, as seen in an * Engraved in the "Ancient Architecture of England." t Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture and Painting." X Ibid. 288 Architectural Innovation. engraving published by the Society of Antiquaries, from a drawing taken before its demolition in the seventeenth century, and at the present inconsiderate portions of the general fabric, we must shudder not alone from thought of the occasion of the change, but at the change itself. One prodigious circular tower, where they say Richard II. was put to death, and some walls of continuation, the above offices, etc., are all that is left of Pontefract Castle, once "mighty, strong, and bold." The church near the castle, rendered useless by the loss of the roof, comes in proof of the inability of the parishioners to repair it for divine service. They give a strange excuse for this by informing visitors that the building was thus reduced during the siege in Charles I.'s reign. This seems improbable, as all the exterior work is rather perfect. The design gives a body, side aisles, transept, chancel, centre tower, etc., the whole an admirable performance. There is something peculiarly striking in these remains, and it may not inaptly be called a beauty in distress ; and yet no admirer of our English architecture comes to pity, and to save; that is, to repair and to restore. Tadcaster. This town has to boast so much of improvement, that there is but one ancient house left to gain any credit that, it had a name in former days. This house has the common projecting bower windows, temp. Henry VIII., with a pediment finish at top, etc. On the front of a house near the church have been stuck on carvings of the Deity, an angel, etc. There is also a gravestone with an ornamented cross. In the church is an oak screen, making what is called the " pew" belonging to the Somerset family. Bilbury. Half a mile out of the road, between Tadcaster and York, is Bilbury Church. Here is a tomb for General Lord Fairfax ; accord- ing to the inscription, he died 167 1. The concluding line has these words, "The memory of the just is blessed." York (1790). [1806, Part II, pp. 322-325.] It may be premised that the walls and gates, nearly encircling the city, are very entire, and well kept or repaired ; and by consulting the plan of the place, published by Drake, 1736, the general form is that of a square, excepting the north-west extremity, where the line runs irregularly. The River Ouse takes its course through the heart of the city. To the south-east there is not any wall, that part seem- ing to have owed its security to the Foss-river on this point ; the castle defending attacks from the south, and Laythorp postern and York. 289 bridge from the east. St. Mary's Abbey occupies the north-west extremity of the walls, and the close of the cathedral takes up the north angle of the walls. MlCKLEGATE. This grand entrance from the south or London road stands near the west angle of the walls. An avenue or ward, flanked at the angles with circular hanging turrets, an arch of entrance, which is Pointed/ 5 ' leads to the gate itself. This gate is square in plan, with circular towers at the angles, embattled, wherein are placed small statues of warriors, etc. The archway to the elevation is circular, and supposed Roman. The height of the building is great, being made out in three stories, on which are various shields with arms, etc. The design, taken altogether, is remarkably noble and impressive, and may be said to rival the triumphal arches of Greece and Rome ; Micklegate bearing the features of English war- like pride, while the others present that ostentation in architecture so peculiar to those countries to which they belong. On the right of the street leading to this gate is St. Thomas's Hospital, a curious building, but lately much modernized in the lines. Taking my course to the right, round the exterior of the city walls, they being flanked at certain distances between gate and gate with circular and square towers, I came to Sheldergate postern. This gate is erected by the Ouse, which intersects the line of wall. This design appears now as being reduced to little more than a pointed archway, and a hanging turret on the right. Crossed the river Ouse; the wall in continu- ation, where is Castlegate postern ; a plain archway, with a large tower attached. The view extremely fine : this gate to the left, in the centre (distant) the spire of St. Mary's Church, and to the right Clifford's Tower, or the keep of the castle. Proceeding round the outworks of the castle, and having crossed the Foss river, I came to Fishergate postern— a simple archway, wall embattled, on the left a large square tower with buttresses, etc. Standing within this gate, a picturesque view is had of the city, the cathedral coming in as the principal object. The next gate occurring is Old Fishergate Bar. The design, though plain, is grand in effect. A large archway ; above, a pointed three-turned head compartment, containing a shield with St. George's cross; on each side large buttresses, having postern doorways. This gate and doorways stopped up. The view taken here is charming to the curious eye, without one modern discordant particle to distract observation. On the right of the gate, and to the left, a long continuation of embattled wall, square and round towers, etc. In the foreground the Foss and highway. Walmgate Bar then attracted my notice, being the entrance to the city from Hull. The * Not circular, as given in a late engraving of this subject. VOL. X. 19 290 A rch itectu ral Innovation . design complete. An avenue or ward, with a pointed archway springing from columns, two hanging turrets, etc., lead to the gate ; it is square in the plan, and flanked with circular towers. Over the city wall, on the right of the gate, the towers of the cathedral are seen in the distant view. Near this gate, on the Hull road, is St. Laurence's Church ; on the churchyard wall are laid two whole- length statues, brought evidently from another situation, perhaps niches in some destroyed edifice. One of the statues is St. John with the Lamb ; the name of the other doubtful. The sculpture fine. Against this wall there is stuck the upper half of another statue, fine workmanship also. Laythorpe postern and bridge, in rotation, may be cited as good picturesque objects. The arches of the bridge are pointed, with piers between each. At the end of the bridge, passing into the city, is the postern, a lofty building with a pointed archway, buttresses, etc. The scene, in continuation, gives some fine wall- towers, and over them rises the tower of St. Cuthbert's Church. I then came to Monk Bar. A noble design, with an outer ward, flanked with hanging turrets, and having a circular archway, denoting its great antiquity. The gate, or bar, is flanked with circular towers, and rising in four stories. The second story is uncommon, having a pointed-arch front, headed with battlements, and decorated with niches, shields with arms, etc., projecting from the main building. In the battlements to the flanking towers are placed small statues, etc. The last gateway that occurs is Bootham Bar. This work has also the outer ward, with a pointed archway, hanging turrets, etc. The gate itself in plan is square, with hanging turrets at the angles ; but is not on so grand a scale as Micklegate or Monk Bar, though, in their general forms, there is much similitude. Bootham Bar enters the city from the north road. At some paces from Monk Bar is Monk's Bridge, leading to the Scarborough road. This bridge, though of plain work, is well designed, having three pointed arches, piers, rising parapet, etc. Taking a position in the grounds on the other side of the bridge, the scene becomes impressive ; in the fore- ground the bridge, and in the distance a general north-east view of the cathedral. Leaving Monk Bar, and following the course of the city wall, to the right another picturesque view is obtained. The wall in the foreground, and behind it, rising in majestic state, the north-east aspect of the cathedral and chapter-house. As the objects in this view approach near the eye all is distinct and in- telligible. . . . Coming into the city at Micklegate, I found on the right Trinity Church ; the gateway leading into the precinct exists, and is curious. The arch is Pointed, and springs from piers ; buttresses placed in an angular direction are attached to the angles of the walls. This design is miserably disfigured by huts built within and above the arch. Farther up the High Street I meet, stuck in the tower of St. York. 291 Martin's Church, the lower part of a basso-relievo, whereon were left two figures from the feet upwards to the knees, and between them a child. The attitudes and draperies good. While standing on the supposed site of the Roman imperial palace, near the south-west extremity of the city walls, now common garden-grounds, I saw dug up by the workpeople a ring and two fibulae (one with an imperial head). These curiosities are in my possession. Ouse Bridge is built in a centrical part of the city, and has something of a superior cast in its construction ; therefore long may it endure one of this city's glories, ancient glories in architectural fame ! The arches are Pointed ; the centre one is of a prodigious span and height, nearly equal to (perhaps exceeding) our Blackfriars centre arch. The other arches diminish gradually as they advance towards the land. Over the west arch adjoining the centre one is a very curious building, called the Town Hall. Excepting the centre arch and the adjoining east one, all the rest have houses reared over them, giving some idea of old London Bridge. The two arches clear of the buildings have had set up, instead of appropriate stone parapets, paltry modern iron railing. The exterior of the Guildhall next the river is magnificent ; designed much in our Westminster Hall manner, with buttresses, lofty windows containing rich traceries, etc. On the face of a pro- jecting part of the elevation is a large water-gate. Sorry I am I cannot speak of the interior, having no note or sketch on this head. On the south-west angle of the city walls, bordering on the precincts of St. Mary's Abbey, is a tower projecting from the wall in eight cants or sides ; and if the continuation of the sides of the tower were remaining, the whole exterior must have shown twelve sides, forming the geometrical figure a duodecagon. This work is called the Roman Tower. Perhaps the basement is of Roman construction, while the upper part, which externally has loopholes, they internally widening into large and lofty pointed windows, is, from these par- ticulars, of a date some centuries later. It is, however, a valuable remain. In the distant view, taking this tower in the foreground, is seen the north side of St. Mary's Abbey Church, and beyond St. Olave's Church. St. Mary's Abbey. The principal parts of these remains show the havocked west front, and the north side of the nave of the church. Of the west front, there is part of the west doorway, the line in continuation to the north, with a portion of the west window, the window to the north aisle of the nave, and the termination of the front, which is in an octangular form. Little is left of the southern half of this front. The whole is highly decorated, the height being made out in three tiers, 19 — 2 292 A rchitectural Innovation . full of recesses, with columns, arches, pediment finishings, etc. The execution of the work is in the most perfect style, and the ornaments of leaves and flowers, that have escaped the all-destroying hand of man, as sharp and true as if fresh from the immediate stroke of the chisel. . . . In the Mint yard is a fine crypt of four aisles, made out by columns supporting semicircular arches. In a niche in the wall is a whole-length sitting figure. In the yard of a house in Aldwark is a basso-relievo, brought from St. Helen's, on the wall ; whereon is a half- moon encircling a heart; over, the word JMJfl^lj* The approach to the castle is a commanding view ; on the left the gate of entrance, and on the right Clifford's Tower. The porch on the south side of St. Margaret's Church, which is supposed to have been brought from the destroyed hospital of St. Nicholas, without the walls, is of Saxon work ; it is not only the most curious, but the richest performance of the kind left among us — those at Glastonbury, Malmesbury and Dunstable not excepted. It consists of piers and three receding columns on each side, from whence spring as many distinct arches and architraves in a circular direction. In the return of the archway are niches with circular heads ; a column on each side then succeeds with another circular arch and architrave, com- pleting the interior. The finish of the design externally is pediment- wise, with a crucifix on the top. On the piers are diagonals. Among the capitals are two warriors encountering with sword and spear, a siren with a mirror, the well-known fable of the fox and stork, etc. The run of architraves to the arches are six in number. No. 1, or outer architrave, has the twelve signs of the zodiac, and represen- tations of the twelve months alternately ; 2, foliage ; 3, royal heads, chimeras, masques, etc. ; 4, centaurs, birds, beasts, etc. ; 5, warrior fighting a lion, centaurs, birds, beasts, etc. ; 6, ornaments.* [1806, Part Li pp. 425-428.] In St. Martin's Church is a very curious piece of ancient needle- work covering the pulpit. Considering the nature of the embellish- ments on it, I conceive it once to have been a cope, but cut up and accommodated by resewing the parts together to its present purpose. The ground crimson velvet, studded with silver stars ; on each side, compartments, with columns supporting arches, entablatures, etc., wherein are saints and martyrs. In the centre is a large com- partment in shape of a shield, filled with corresponding architecture to the work on the sides \ in the midst of which is seated the figure of God holding up our Saviour on the cross. On the breast of the Deity is the dove. In order to secure the head of the Deity from injury, there was sewed thereon an embossed sun. This object I had * Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture," with a particular description by R. Gough, Esq. York. 293 taken off, in order to discover the said head, which, until my investiga- tion, had not within memory been ever noticed. It is almost needless to say I got the sun resewed in its station once more. This cloth is in good preservation, and the heads, particularly that of the Deity, exquisite performances. In one of the windows is a painting of St. George in the armour of Edward III.'s time. A window in Allhallows' Church shows a fine painting of a bishop. The angels supporting the open timber-worked roof of this church are playing on various musical instruments, as a crewth, dulcimer, cittern, regalls, etc. St. Ellen's Church in its west front is rather remarkable ; the centre part, giving the width of the nave, rises in projecting pilasters to the height of the top of the west window, when arches spring from them with side pedimented grounds ; the whole crowned by a pleas- ing octangular turret filled with niches, etc. To some old buildings in the precincts of the cathedral is a rich doorway ; over the point of the architrave a niche with a bishop seated. Buttresses succeed the columns, supporting the architrave to the arch. Over this design is a projecting horizontal canopy, upheld by small figures. Within the bishop's prison, near the west end of the cathedral, is a long narrow vault, 32 feet by 9 feet, called the dungeon. At the entrance are two doors, each 5 inches thick ; between them a space of 1 1 inches, where, it is said, prisoners were occasionally pressed by way of punishment. Two narrow loopholes with iron shutters light this place. The Cathedral. The north view of this immense and magnificent pile appeared to claim the first attention of the artist. In beholding the lines of the towers, chapter-houses, transept, aisles of the choir, nave, etc., un- intercepted by near-raised hovels, as is the consequence at the west front, and that the eye can take in at one direct look the cathedral to the left, Close gate in the centre, and the ruins of the bishop's palace on the right ; . . . these remnants show signs of much grandeur. The near approach to the west front is shockingly impeded by vulgar erections of shops, victualling houses, etc. I doubt, had these erections evinced any particulars claiming notice from their antiquity, if I had here been under the necessity of complaining of want of space on this part of the cathedral. To take the least pleasurable drawing of the west front, with respect to perspective truth, I was compelled to seat myself amidst the dilapidated parts of the bishop's palace ; these objects forming a dark confused mass for the fore-ground, while above them the upper lines of the church appeared in airy splendour, lighted by the sun's resplendent rays. Being desirous also to have a direct view of this front, from the base lines to the summit of the towers, I was constrained to make my sketches from the different stories of the confronting hovels, for it is a thing impossible to 294 Architectural Innovation. command the whole height at one look. That such an extraordinary, majestic, wonderfully high-embellished design should lose, in a manner, half its charms for want of being seen in the most advantageous situation, is a circumstance which, although it must not be accounted for, must be lamented, and deeply too. By the inspirer of man's transcendent powers, his more than mortal art, let me be diffuse in description and in praise. The west entrance in its double doorway is grand ; clusters of columns supporting architraves full of enrichments, they uniting with a pediment termination. The west window contains every delightful turn that tracery in its most intricate forms can possibly bestow. The recesses with pediment finishings, the high and diminishing buttresses, the accumulation of rich windows, the perforated battlements, and each other accompaniment occupying every part, how admirable, how enchanting ! It is a question with me, if this front of majestic York is not the supreme head of all architectural dominion within the land. The design, it may be judged, marks the style of the meridian of art in the reign of Edward III. In a frieze under the great east window is a series of seventeen heads of the best sculpture, full of character and costume, with regard to the fashion of the hair, beards, etc. The first head a king, and the last a bishop. The intervening heads show no particular personages. Observing that some modern alterations had been wrought on the south transept, I deferred at this time to make sketches or notes of the vast line of elevation constituting the south side of the cathedral. The interior surpasses not only all description, but all comparison with other the like episcopal felicities, in its prodigious dimensions, just proportions, due embellishments, and all those other requisites constituting such a fabric. The sublimity is farther heightened by that universal hue of painted glass so admirably displayed. . . . In the galleries over the side-aisles of the nave are laid in pro- miscuous sort several interesting statues and other choice sculptures. It is to be regretted that these performances are not placed in some eligible situation, to attract notice, instead of being in this manner lost, except to those whose curiosity induces them to explore these upper regions of architectural grandeur. The sculptures I sketched were an armed knight, and a personage in robes, bearing on his hand a hawk. A large dragon also engaged my pencil. The choir-screen, it may well be affirmed, is one of the noblest of the kind to be met with. In the centre, the grand archway to the porch, preparatory to the approach into the choir. This porch is finely groined. The archway of this screen is embellished with a profusion of sculptures. On each side of the archway are eight rich niches, wherein are statues, the size of life, standing on pedestals ; an entablature of exuberant work finishes the design. These statues present a series of our kings, from William I. to Henry V., at which period, it may be supposed, York. 295 this splendid screen was set up. The workmanship of the statues is particularly fine, the attitudes well varied, the draperies and every costumic particular minutely made out, and no doubt faithful to the fashion of each succeeding reign. * The countenances characteristic and strongly marked, according well with the ruling passions peculiar to each monarch. If at any future hour a perverse and unfortunate idea should be entertained, from the consideration that it is needful to restore certain mutilated parts of this screen, by submitting such a business to uninformed hands with regard to our antique, let them be Englishmen or Italians, it may be as well to item, for the satis- faction of present and future true antiquaries, the present state of the screen itself, and of each several statue. The screen shows those kind of mutilations which through a long train of years must necessarily happen to such an object, yet not so obtrusive but they may pass general notice ; we ever considering that in what is left of a truly valuable piece of antiquity, the hand of the first artist is still visible, and of course it should be held sacred. State of the statues : William L, rays of the crown, and hands, gone ; William II., perfect; Henry I., perfect, excepting the rays of the crown, one of them gone ; Stephen, rays of the crown partly gone, half of the right foot gone ; Henry II., part of the sword gone ; Richard L, part of the sceptre and some of the rays of the crown gone; John, rays of the crown, right hand, and fingers of the left hand, gone ; Henry III., rays of the crown, and parts of the sceptre, gone; Edward I., rays of the crown, and hands, gone; Edward II., rays of the crown, and right hand, gone ; Edward III., hands gone (agrees with his statue in Westminster Abbey); Richard II., right hand gone (agrees with his statue and painting, Westminster Abbey) ; Henry IV., rays of the crown, and right hand, gone; Henry V., both hands gone. There follows a statue (perfect) of James I., executed, and introduced into the screen in his life-time.t Against the clusters of columns dividing the archway entering into the chapter-house are most beautiful statues of the Virgin and Child. The attitude of the Virgin delicate and charming, and the drapery chaste and elegant. The damage this sculpture has sustained, from the savage hands (no doubt) of iconoclasts in the seventeenth century, is the loss of the face and hand of the Virgin, and the head and lower part of the left arm of the child. Interior of the chapter-house : here architectural pride and episcopal splendour have fixed their seats — ah ! could I say everlasting seats. The plan, an octagon ; windows fill every cant except the entrance one, which shows the interior of the double entrance : above it is the outer face of the * Taken, beyond dispute, from habits preserved in the royal wardrobe. It is a fact that Queen Elizabeth possessed a complete collection of these kind of robes, from the Conquest down to her day. t Engraved in "Ancient Sculpture," described by Dr. Milner. 296 Architectural Innovation. avenue to the gallery under the windows ranging round the building. Above this face, the part is rilled with mullion compartments, similar to the work of the windows, containing paintings of kings and bishops. At the angles between each window rise clusters of columns support- ing the groins, which groins are connected with a circular dome. The spandrils of the groins and dome have paintings of figures and ornaments. The windows full of painted glass. The canopied seats on the seven sides of the octagon are extremely grand ; and, what is rather singular, within the thicknesses of the canopies runs a gallery communicating with the eight sides of the room as above noticed. The statue of William of Hatfield, youngest son of Edward III. , which lay at the western end of the nave, is now brought and placed within a rich recess in the north aisle of the choir. The work is perfect, excepting the face and fingers of the hands. The dress superb and curious. Shoes fully ornamented ; the hose plain. The vest rich, and at the waist a girdle, wrought in small ornamented squares. The outer robe is fastened with brooches, and jagged at the edges. Two good statues lay on the pavement in this aisle, of a knight armed, and a person in plain robes. There are likewise two wooden figures of knights pointed out in this aisle, which, until of late, in consequence of alterations on the exterior of the south transept, used to strike the quarters of the clock over the entrance. Here is shown at the same time a real complete helmet. The monument of Archbishop Bowet is on a lofty and extensive scale ; buttresses with niches form the sides, and over the arch are open- worked niches, etc. The next sketches I set about were the most remarkable basso-relievos under the seats of the choir ; the dresses and armours temp. Edward III. A man seated. Two men in close conference, accompanied with a jug and a bowl. A lady and a dignified person playing at chess. St. George on foot, encountering the dragon. A knight armed, on horseback, in full charge, stooping at the same time to pick up a ring. A knight, unarmed, running a tilt. A second St. George, on foot, slaying the dragon ; a spirited carving. A religious inflicting punishment on a kneeling person. A female beating a man with a ladle ; the man is drawing his sword to revenge the insult. A third St. George, on horseback, and the dragon. A fourth St. George, on foot, slaying the dragon. (These four representations of St. George are well diversified, and valuable for the armour each exhibits.) A tumbler. In a chamber adjoining the vestry is a curious lavatory, with arches, recesses, etc. Curiosities in the vestry : A large ivory bugle-horn 2 feet 6 inches long, called In- gulphus's [Ulphus's] horn. The carvings on it are a lion, three griffins, a unicorn, and a dog. Silver crosier taken from a Catholic bishop in the seventeenth century. Monumental finger-rings of Archbishop Sewell, Archbishop Beckinfield, and Archbishop Bowet. As a mark of confidence, I was admitted into the Treasury (an unusual in- Kirkham, 297 diligence to strangers), where is a fine-wrought chest, containing the history of St. George. In compartments at the sides are St. John the Baptist and St. Anne.* The direct motive of this survey being, as already hinted, confined to certain particulars, such as have been enumerated, I shall make no other remarks at present than to observe, the screens dividing off the eastern aisles of the two transepts are justly to be esteemed as filling with appropriate decorations those situations ; and if ever the removal of them should be thought necessary, it would leave a strange vacuity, which no man of real taste could approve or countenance. The mullions of the great transept and east windows in their con- structions have something peculiar to themselves : the mullions in profile show two and three uprights ; and while they give increasing strength to the work of the windows they produce a wonderful diversity of objects. In a front view, they appear to derive all their security and design from the usual single mullion, producing an effect at once of extreme lightness and delicacy. The high-altar screen is in every degree worthy of its situation, and of the edifice itself, which may be said to establish and confirm in architecture all that is "sublime and beautiful." Kirkham (1790). [1806, Part I., pp. 520-524.] At twelve miles' distance from York, on the Malton road, are the remains of Kirkham Priory. Little of the walls is in being, except the gateway, which is enriched in the highest manner. The ground has buried the elevation almost to the springing of the arch ; above which are two windows with excellent traceries ; and on the sides of the elevations are buttresses. On the face of the building are many shields of arms, niches, and compartments, containing basso-relievos and single statues. Among the figures are St. George and the dragon, a knight, and a giant ; our Saviour on the cross ; two angels with the instruments of the Passion ; St. Peter ; the Deity, etc. Beverley. At the entrance into the town from York, and likewise from Howden, are gateways; the designs simple, and but little varied. That from York has a regular-formed pointed archway, small windows over the arch, and on each side plain buttresses, the whole terminat- ing with triple-storied buttresses. On the left of the gateway is attached an ancient house ; the windows to the first story have traceries. The gateway from Howden in its archway gives the flat Tudor sweep ; on each side buttresses with compartments • has a common pediment pitched roof (modern). * Engraved in "Ancient Sculpture," described by Dr. Milner. A rchitectural Innovation. St. Mary's Church. An elegant and splendid exterior ; the design marks the style temp. Henry VI., consists of a nave, side-aisles, transepts, a lofty centre tower, choir, porch, etc. The whole work is uncontaminatcd by modern alterations. Against some columns, or pillars, in the nave are placed the statues of five minstrels, with this inscription : " ^hgs pgfJor mabc thx ^Ugnstruhs." The instruments they play on are a tabor and side-drum, a creuth, a bass flute, a gittern, a treble flute. These instruments are calculated to produce sounds in score, or full harmony.* Against an ancient mansion in one of the streets is a remarkable basso-relievo. In the centre a knight on foot attacking a wild boar ; in a tree near at hand is a damsel waiting the event of the combat. On the left, as a detached subject, is a naked figure seated, holding a youth in a strange position. On the right, another detached subject, wherein is a second naked figure about to devour two serpents, f The Minster. Sir C. Wren's proposed professional trick of erecting a rotunda, with a cupola within the great centre tower of old St. Paul's, and when completed, to take down the tower and surprise the world with his "incomparable new design," being rendered useless by the Great Fire, we have but to imagine what an odious sight such an object would have appeared. Lord Burlington was more for- tunate, for he has actually put part of Sir Christopher's plan into execution on this minster, by setting upon the great centre tower a very cupola. What with the fury of blind zeal on one hand to destroy, and the more blind rage of architectural taste on the other to improve our ancient works, we shall erelong have few originals to boast of. It were well could our surveys of those great fabrics yet left in their unaltered dress be fully entered upon; but the means adequate to place me in so desirable an employ are not directly within my grasp. The following memoranda of this church, like those already gone over, is now collected from those sketches taken in order to fulfil a mission towards illustrating certain publications, and taken when I had no idea of submitting their description to public consideration ; of course my notes must come defective in point of general information, as was the case with regard to York. The north-west view appears to the eye with peculiar satisfaction, being wholly free from novel obstructions. The design, particularly in the west front, much resembles York Cathedral. The decorations * Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture." f Ibid. Beverley. 299 are nearly as profuse, though the dimensions are very far behind in the scale of comparison. The wretched cupola, above noticed, has a most deformed and unnatural effect, as seen amidst pointed windows, buttresses, pinnacles, etc. The circumstance should never be for- gotten ; nor should adequate praise ever be withheld in regard to that undertaking which took place a few years past, in re-establishing the north front of the north transept to its perpendicular situation, which before that event overhung its base 4 feet, so as to threaten the sudden downfall of this part of the church. Recollect a combina- tion of carpentry, replete with the most extraordinary mechanic powers, raising or forcing the whole face of the front at one surprising effort into its proper upright. This front has ever since stood firm, and will remain, no doubt, a lasting memorial of the ingenious artist's great abilities, who performed so arduous an undertaking. hiterior. — Ever holding this belief, that our ancestors were com- plete masters of compositions in score, instrumental as well as vocal (the latter compositions are still many in possession of the curious), I was particularly attracted by a number of small statues over the columns on each side of the nave, playing on a variety of musical instruments, well adapted to produce full harmony. Gittern (guittar), bagpipes, viel, crewth, gittern of another form, tambourine, large flute, bass ditto, bass bagpipes, small harp, double tambourine, dulcimer, small harp of another form, bass gittern, or theorbe, trumpet, small harp of a still more varied form, tabor and pipe, a bass crewth.* In the screen behind the high altar is a person playing on a flute with two extremities, whereby the performer might play first and second. On a capital in the south transept are three instrumental performers. The instrument to the centre figure is nearly destroyed, but seems to have been a large flute. The second performer has a crewth ; and the third man, allowing for some havoc made on the instrument, bears strong resemblance to a bass crewth, or violoncello, and played on in the modern way. Among the sculptures about the walls is a fiend holding in a sack two females, who are in devotional attitudes. Two half-fiends, in strange conjunction. A male and female (lower parts show that of beasts) in very familiar attitudes. Two masters of defence, in fierce combat, with swords and hand-shields. Basso-relievo of King Athelstan and John of Beverley. The painting of these two personages in the south transept has lost the greater part of its intrinsic value, by having been retouched, alias restored, alias accommodated to the costume of James I.'s reign, when it is to be inferred such "picture-mending" took place. Tomb in north transept, the statue a priest ; his robes embroidered with a profusion of arms. * Engraved in " Ancient Sculpture." 300 A rchitectural Innovation. Chapel, east end of the north aisle of the choir; a tomb of an Earl of Northumberland, of rich work. Monument of Lady Percy on the north side of the choir. In the design, workmanship, and taste, everything is perfect, chaste, and elegant. The masonic parts are minute, and cut with the nicest care ; the foliages luxuriant and delicately handled; and the sculptures of figures are profuse beyond all compare, and of the finest school, proving that our artists at this time must have stood the proud compeers with any foreign son of the chisel, either of the then day or of more remote periods. It is with much exultation I tell that the condition of the whole monument is exceeding good, having escaped the usual mutilations so common on these sepulchral remains. The monument on its north front may be thus described : A plain oblong pedestal supports a plain stone chest (containing the ashes of the deceased) ; on the top are indents, once filled with the brass effigies of the lady. On each side of the design are buttresses made out with compartments, pinnacles, etc. Within these buttresses are columns supporting an ogee architrave, with crotchets, and a finial supporting a sitting figure, which architrave incloses five great turns, each great turn containing lesser turns. A pediment with crotchets and a finial then succeed, and finish the contour of the monument. This general form is repeated on the south front, leaving within the two fronts a space of 4 feet (the width of the chest), which is finely groined and ornamented. In the spandrils of the smaller turns of the sweeping architraves are basso- relievos ; among them are the Salutation ; the Nativity ; our Lady seated near our Lord ; St. Catherine ; a variety of angels, etc. In the spandrils of the greater turns are eight personages, forming the first characters of Edward III.'s court (this monument entected in his reign), with shields of arms before them. One figure, by his shield and the crown within his helmet (the visor up), presents the portrait of Edward III. Another that of the Lady Percy. All the knights (seven) are in complete armour, and of the most splendid kind. The admiration excited thus far must give way to more refined delight when intent on the two seated statues on the finials of the sweeping architraves on each front. The statue on the north side — our Saviour pointing to the wound in His side. Near attending are two angels with the instruments of the Passion. The statue on the south side (looking towards the altar) is the Deity receiving the soul of the lady in a winding-sheet, borne by two angels. Here are also two attending angels. The attitude of the Deity is full of dignity, the countenance benign and composed. That of the lady is wrought up to the highest point of adoration, in the ardent hope of Divine acceptance. The expression in the faces of the angels bearing the sheet is marked with beatific joy and welcome. . . . List of the most remarkable basso-relievos under the seats of the choir : Man hunting the wild boar. A monkey riding a hare ; another Beverley. 301 acting as doctor to a bedrid goat. Hog playing on a bagpipe, accompanied by numerous hogs dancing. Hog with a saddle. Hog playing on the harp. Grotesque figure of St. George fighting the dragon. Man slaying a small animal. Man kneeling, and preparing for penance. Man on horseback, preceding a number of muzzled bears. A bear eating. Monkey holding the hind parts of a dog, as if playing on some musical instrument. Bear-baiting. Man teaching a monkey to dance. Monkey playing on the bagpipes, and a bear dancing. Men slaughtering an animal. Man and a dog. Huntsman sounding his horn, surrounded by dogs. Men with a bear and a wheelbarrow. Man preparing a dog to fight a bear. Shield of arms supported by dragons. A pelican. A hart sitting on a tun. Grotesque sport of men riding on rams, etc. A shepherd with his dog. Men drawing a bear on a sledge. Men with bears. Men lifting weights. Monkeys at their gambols, riding on men, etc. Lion fighting a dragon. Monkey dandling a child. Monkey with a bottle. Men lifting weights and weighing articles. Two sculptors quarrelling ; one, who seems retiring, has the chisel, while the other, who has the mallet, is about to strike with it ; on one side is a man holding hh nose in contempt, while on the other side is a man expressing his terror at the scene before him. A fiend seizing a naked figure. A miser exploring his money-chest, a fiend attending. A glutton drinking, a fiend attending. Dignified person going a-hawking. Man dressing (curious) ; he is putting on his long hose (pantaloons), shoes lying by him ; his pouch hung up, and ready for hanging at his girdle. Man lifting a large stone. Female churning. Three fools dancing a morisco. Fool with his bauble, showing postures ; another playing on a pipe and side-drum. In this collection of carvings there is much information of the costume and manners of the fifteenth century. Howden. The Great Church. This church is on a large scale; a body, side-aisles, and lofty centre tower ; the parts very rich ; but in following the design in the chapter- house, choir, and its side-aisles, the decorations are augmented to the utmost degree of magnificence and delicacy. I am, however, truly concerned to state that the chapter-house and choir are mere ruins, the walls only remaining. To describe the east front : we find the east window extending nearly to the top of the elevation ; on each side buttresses with four tiers of niches, in which are statues, etc. In the space bounded by the pediment is another window, though small (once lighting the roof), with surrounding niches. The pediment finishes with a turret full of niches, etc. The windows and buttresses to the aisles (carrying 302 A rch itectural Innovation. on the east front) are composed of corresponding work, though the particulars, as chaste design marks out, assume a less portion of high wrought particles than what is seen on the centre of the front. The interior of the chapter-house is called (not without reason) York's chapter-house in miniature ; indeed, the lines are so minute, that the eye is drawn involuntarily to scrutinize and discover, if possible, the final ramification of each tracery, or fix the endless turns of each delicious piece of foliage — but in vain ; therefore, we only thus investigate, to be charmed and to be delighted at the general view. The body of the church is in repair, and used by the parishioners. The original screen entering into the choir still exists ; the design good, but far inferior to the architecture we have above particularized. In the niches of this screen are statues of a religious with a book ; Queen Emma, with the plough-shares and penitentiary taper ; St. Paul with the sword ; and St. Peter with the keys and the model of a church. On the right of the screen is an oblong pedestal, whereon is set the trunk of a gigantic statue of a religious ; the drapery fine. In a small projecting chapel, on the south side of the choir, is a monument and tombs of the Saltmarshes. Though descendants of this family are in the neighbourhood, this chapel is suffered to lie unroofed and unprotected. One tomb has a knight in ring-armour, cross-legged. Another tomb shows a knight in ring-armour, with a lady, who is cross-legged also. On the sides of this tomb are twelve figures of men and women, in civil and religious habits ; the attitudes are pleasingly varied. In the north wall is a monument, but despoiled of the statue and other enrichments. Not far from Howden is Wressell. The church is destroyed up to the gable end of the west front ; dimensions small. In a view of this ruin the background is filled with the remaining mass of the castle. The remains of the castle consist of one side of the great court. Here are many state rooms, and a chapel fitted up with decorations, such as appeared on the declension of the Tudor style in the sixteenth century, and the introduction of the Italian grotesque at that period. A melancholy scene of grandeur everywhere prevailed, and deserted by those who alone can revive its former state. In one of the chambers on the first floor there is a communication with a double spiral staircase, by means of which two persons can ascend and descend at the same time, unknown to each other. In compartments over a doorway in this chamber are some curious carvings ; in the centre one is carved the story of St. Hubert, who is kneeling at the sight of the hart bearing between his antlers a crucifix. This sort of story is applied, and Selby. 303 with better success, to an adventure of David Bruce, King of Scots, who received a crucifix from a hart he met, and on the spot built Holyrood House. At the battle at Durham, temp. Edward III., Bruce brought with him this crucifix; when, being taken prisoner, this crucifix was hung up in the cathedral, being called afterwards the Black Rood of Scotland, where it remained until the dissolution of monasteries, temp. Henry VIII. On the left of this basso-relievo is a knight, holding with his right hand a banner, and with his left chains, etc. On the right of the basso-relievo is St. George slaying the dragon. Selby (1790)- [1806, Part II. , pp. 624-628.] Journeying on, I paid a visit to Selby. The abbey church is fine, and contains, in the interior, many valuable examples of Saxon architecture, and of the succeeding style, wherein the pointed arch manner is brought forward with much success. Taking a south exterior view of the building, I found the parts not so exuberant as usual on the Yorkshire fabrics ; still, there is much for study. The gateway entering to the south side of the church is to be regarded as an object of much importance, and as such, no doubt, it will ever be considered. The archway is pointed, and supported by columns ; on each side buttresses. Above are two conjoined pointed windows, which have the happiest effect. On each side, and above these windows, are small niches, with statues. Within the archway are two more archways. Aldborough. At Aldborough, near Boroughbridge, much satisfaction is derived from the sight of the Roman altars and pavements, which are there so carefully preserved, and, I may say, almost adored. . . . Ripon Collegiate Church. However the date of the foundation {circa William I.) conveys the mind back to so remote a period, the exterior decorations seem much later. The towers, forming part of the west front, from having been carried up no higher than the roof, reminded me how our Westminster Abbey church appeared previous to the deformed " congestions " run up by Sir Christopher Wren, as we now witness. Viewing this church on the south-east, from the variety of breaks, the diversity of forms in buttresses, windows, battlements, turrets, etc., everything takes a picturesque turn. In the south aisle of the nave is a plain tomb ;* on the end of the slab is a horizontal basso - relievo, a decoration peculiar to this memorial — and presents a lion in a forest, where is a kneeling figure, whom the royal animal seems to reverence. * Engraved in "Ancient Architecture." 3