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PERSONAL AND PROFESSIONAL
RECOLLECTIONS

BY THE LATE

SIR GEORGE GILBERT SCOTT, R.A.

Edited by his Son,
GILBERT SCOTT, F.S.A.
Sometime Fellow of fesus College, Cambridge.

Sltith ait f ninrtmjciion .
BY TliE
VERY REV. JOHN WILLIAM BURGON, B.D
Dean of Chichester.

S,ontfon :
SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, & RIVINGTON,
CROWN BUILDINGS, i83. FLEET STREET.
1879. .
[All rights reserved^

JUSTORUM AUTEM ANIMAE
IN MANU DEI
SUNT

PREFACE.

The following " Personal and Professional Recol
lections" were commenced by my father many years
ago. They were designed originally for the infor
mation of his family, but as the work progressed
the scope of it became enlarged. In 1873 my
father drew up directions for its. publication in- the
event of his decease, and his instructions upon the
subject are precise. " I feel it due," he writes, " to
myself that the statement of my professional life
should go before the public in a fair and unpreju
diced form ; and the more so as I have been one
of the leading actors in the greatest architectural
movement which has -occurred since the Classic
renaissance. I only seek to be placed before the
public fairly and honourably, ..as I trust I deserve;
and I commit this especially to those whose duty
it is to do it, begging the blessing of Almighty God
upon their exertions." The manuscript, naturally
enough, contains much that is unsuited to publica
tion, and which my father, had he lived to revise it
for the press, would undoubtedly have modified
or erased.' With such matter I have endeavoured,
A 2

iv Preface.
aided by the advice of others, to deal as it may be
conceived that its author would have dealt, had
opportunity served. There is also much relating to
purely domestic concerns in which the public could
not be expected to take interest. The greater
part of this has been omitted. So much only is
left as appeared necessary to the completeness
of the story, and valuable as an indication of cha
racter. I trust it may not be thought that too little
has here been- expunged, and that something may
be allowed to the partiality of a son.
My thanks are due to the Very Reverend the
Dean of Chichester who, with equal willingness and
kindness, undertook to contribute the Introduction,
and who has further given valuable aid and advice
in the revision, throughout, of the proofs. I have
also to thank the Very Reverend the Dean of
Westminster for the permission to reprint the ser
mon preached by him on the occasion of my father's
interment ; Mr. Edward M. Barry, R.A., for a simi
lar permission in respect of a portion of a recent
lecture delivered in the chair of Architecture at the
Royal Academy, in reference to my father's career ;
to Mr. E. A. Freeman, who was at much pains to
recover a passage in one of his early pamphlets to
which my father in his manuscript had referred,
but of which he has given no very accurate indica
tion; and to Mr. George Richmond, R.A., for kind
assistance in regard to the engraving from his
drawing, which he has allowed me to place as a
frontispiece to this work.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

Introduction by the Dean of Chichester.
CHAPTER I.
Birth and parentage, i.. Native village, 4. The early " Evan
gelicals;" 9. The "high and dry" clergy, 12. Village
characters, 16. The Drawing Master, 24. Rev. Thomas
Scott, the "Commentator," 27. Visit to Margate, 33I John
Wesley, 36. William Gilbert, 37. Stowe, 38. Hillesden
Church, 42. Residence at Latimers, 48.
CHAPTER- II.
Gawcott Church, 53. Articled to Mr. Edmeston, 55. St.
Saviour's, Southwark, 59. - Death of his brother; 65. The
Oldrid family, 66. Messrs. -Grissell and Peto, 71. Fish
mongers' Hall, 73. Death of his father, 77. Poor Law
work, 78. Marriage, 85. Erects his first church, 85.
Augustus Welby Pugin, 88. The Martyrs' Memorial, 89.
The Infant Orphan Asylum, 91. ..Camberwell Church, 92. .
St. Mary's, Stafford, 97. Chapel on Wakefield Bridge, 101.
The Cambridge Camden Society, 103.
CHAPTER III.
The Gothic Revival in 1844,. 107. .St. Nicholas,. Hamburg,.
113. First Visit to Germany, ib. Visits Hamburg, 117.
The Competition for St. Nicholas' Church, 118. Journey to
Hamburg and Holland, 127. Dissolution of Partnership,
130.- Apology for undertaking the erection . of a Lutheran

vi Contents.
Church, 135. Appointed architect to Ely Cathedral, 146.
Important works (1845 — 1862), 147. Paper on Truthful
Restoration, r4g. Becomes architect to Westminster Abbey,
151. Bradfield Church, 155,. Tour in Italy, 157. The
Great Exhibition (185 1), 164. The Architectural Museum,
165. St. George's, Doncaster, 170. The Rath-haus at
Hamburg, 174. Elected an A.R.A., 175.

CHAPTER IV, .
Treatise on Domestic Architecture, 177. Competition for the
New Government Offices, 178. Is appointed to this work,
181. Change of Government, 185. Is directed to prepare
an Italian design, 192. Is elected a Royal Academician,
199. CHAPTER V.
The Gothic Revival (1845 — 1864), 202> Progress of the
subsidiary arts, Carving, 214. Metal work, 216. Stained
glass, ib. The Gothic Revivalists, 225. „
CHAPTER VI.
Death of his mother, 230 ; and of two sisters, 234—236 ; of
his third son, ib. ; of his brother, Samuel King Scott, 241.
Illness at Chester, 247. A " haunted " house,- 252: Moves
to Ham, 254; thence to Rook's-nest, 256. Death of Mrs.
Scott, ib. CHAPTER VII.
The Prince Consort Memorial, 262. Reply to criticisms on
this design, 267. The Midland Railway Terminus, 271.-
Glasgow University buildings, 272. Decoration- of the
Wolsey Chapel, Windsor, ib. Competition for the New
Law Courts, 273. Design for the Albert Hail, 279. Pro
fessor of Architecture at the Royal Academy, 280. Works
at Ely Cathedral, ib. Westminster Abbey, 284. Hereford
Cathedral, 288. Lichfield Cathedral, 291. Peterborough
Cathedral, 298. Salisbury Cathedral, 300. Chichester
Cathedral, 309. St. David's Cathedral,"" 31 i." Bangor

Contents. vii
Cathedral, 316. St. Asaph Cathedral, 318. St. Albans
Abbey, 320. CHAPTER VIII,
Is knighted, 327." Tour in Switzerland and Italy, 329. Works
at Chester Cathedral, 330. Gloucester Cathedral, 336.
Ripon Cathedral, 339. Worcester Cathedral, 342. Exeter
Cathedral, 345. Rochester Cathedral, 34.9. Winchester
Cathedral, 352. Durham Cathedral, ib. St. Albans, re
sumed, 353.
CHAPTER IX.
The Anti-Restoration Movement, 358. The Queen Anne
Style, 372.

APPENDIX A.

An Account of Sir Gilbert's last days, and of his death and
funeral, 377.
APPENDIX B.
Funeral Sermon by Dr. Stanley, Dean of Westminster, 387.
APPENDIX C.
Papers on the subject of Restoration referred tp in p. 367, 398.

INTRODUCTION

THE DEAN OF CHICHESTER.

Invited to contribute an Introductory Chapter
to Sir Gilbert Scott's " Recollections," I willingly
undertake the task ; yet have I little to offer
beyond the expression of my personal regard for
the man, my hearty admiration of the great work
which he lived long enough to .accomplish.
(i.) It is impossible to survey the revival which
has taken place in the' knowledge of Gothic archi
tecture within the last forty years without astonish
ment. Not that our actual achievements as yet
are calculated to produce excessive self-congratu
lation: but when it is considered out of what a
state of childish ignorance we have so lately
emerged, it is surely in a high degree encouraging
to review our present position. And to Sir Gilbert
Scott, more than to any other individual, we are
indebted for what has been effected. He in
genuously acknowledges his obligations to others :
tells us at what altar he. first kindled his torch:
arrogates to himself no claim to have been facile
princeps in his art. On the contrary, he frankly
recalls, his own failures-; and recounts the steps,

x Introduction.
slow and painful, by which he himself struggled
out of the universal darkness, with a truthfulness
which is even perplexing. Yet has he been un
questionably the great teacher of his generation ;
and by the conservative character of his genius he
has proved a prime benefactor to his country also.
To his influence and example we are chiefly in
debted for the preservation of not a few of our
national monuments — our cathedral and parochial
churches. And (it must in faithfulness to his
memory be added) a vast deal more would have
been spared of what has now hopelessly perished
had his counsels always prevailed — -above all, had
his method been more generally adopted.
(2.) In the " Recollections" which follow (would
that they were less fragmentary !) Sir Gilbert has
chiefly — -all but exclusively, in fact— dwelt upon
the great Cathedral restorations which were con
ducted under his auspices. His remarks will be
read with profound interest, and will become local
memorials of the most precious class, as the au
thentic private jottings (for they do not pretend to
be more) of the great architect himself. But one
desiderates besides an enumeration of the many
dilapidated parochial Churches on which he was
employed ; and one would have been glad at the
same time to be reminded by himself of the
eloquent plea which was ever on his lips for deal
ing in a far more conservative spirit with those
precious relics of antiquity. " Let me be allowed in
this place to say a few plain words on a subject very
near to my heart- — as I know it was very near to
his: a subject concerning which those who have a

Introdttction. xi
right to be heard, and who ought . to have spoken
long ago," have either practised reticence or else
spoken ineffectually until, I fear, it is too late for
any one to speak with the possibility of much
good resulting from what he says. I allude to
the ruthless work of destruction which for the
last thirty years has been going on in almost
every parish in England under the immediate
direction of our architects, and with the sanction
of our parochial clergy. Verily, it is not too much
to declare that with, the best intentions and at an
immense outlay, more havoc has been made, more
irreparable mischief wrought throughout the land
within those thirty years, than any invasion of a
barbarous - horde could have effected. We have
severed ourselves, on every side, from antiquity, —
have effectually broken the thousand links which
used, to connect us with the historic Past.
(3.) At the beginning of the period referred to,
to seek out and to study the village churches of
England was almost part of the education of an
English gentleman. In the case of one of culti
vated taste, whatever was remarkable in their
structure or in their decorations, — from the primi
tive window or singular font or rude bas-relief
above the doorway, down to the fragments of
stained glass, specimens of wrought, iron, or.
vestiges of fresco on the walls, — nothing came
amiss. The ancient altar-stone degraded to the
pavement ; the curiously-carved finials ; the dila
pidated stand for the preacher's hour-glass ; all
found in him an appreciating patron. That the
edifice itself was as a rule iil a most discreditable

Xll

Introductio?i.

plight, is undeniable. The green walls, low plas
tered ceiling, chimney thrust through the window,
—the ponderous gallery above and the tall pews
beneath, — all were sordid and unworthy. But for
all that, the great fact remained that our village
churches were objects of surprising interest ; full
of beauty, full of instruction. There is no telling
what a privilege it was to pass a day with one's
pencil among the many relics which they invariably
contained ; and from every part of the edifice to
learn something. Externally, enough remained
at all events to tell the story of the structure :
within, comfortable it was to reflect that nothing
after all was so much needed as the removal of
pews, galleries, whitewash : the re-opening of
windows : the careful repair of what, through
tract of time, had vanished : the restoration of
what had been barbarously mutilated. Nothing
in short was required but what a refined taste
and strong conservative instinct might reasonably
hope to see some day effected.
(4.) And now, what has been the actual
result of thirty years of church " Restoration " ?
Briefly this, — that in by far the greater number
of our lesser country churches there scarcely sur
vives a single point of interest. In the case of
our more considerable structures — with a few bright
exceptions — the merest wreck remains of what
did once so much delight and interest the be
holder. The door of entrance has been "restored,"
but not on the old lines: three other doors— in
order to obtain additional sittings, to exclude
draughts?, and to save expense— have been so

Introduction. xiii
blocked up as to make it impossible to discover
what they were. The curious Norman chancel-
arch has been " enlarged :" the ancient font and
pulpit have been supplanted : the screen has either
been painted oyer or else removed entirely. The
windows (furnished with stained glass of the kind
which it gives the beholder a sharp pain across
the chest to be forced to contemplate) are wholly
new, and do not assort with the edifice: a huge.
east window in particular (bad luck to the author
of it !) has effectually obliterated the record of
what stood there before it. The venerable tomb
of the founder (on the ground, under a mural
arch) has. been built over with seats. Another
mutilated recumbent figure of an ancient lord of
the soil has been buried, — inscription and all.
Sedilia, piscina, aumbry, niche, — ruthless hands
have rendered every one of them uninteresting
and unintelligible. Some exquisite tracery has
been chiselled away within and without the
building. A specimen of the ancient oak seats
has disappeared, and a forest of rush-bottomed
chairs covers the floor. There were once traces
of curious fresco painting on the. walls ; but they
also have been obliterated. After repeated inquiry
I find that the sepulchral slabs, of which there
used to be several, are at the present hour either
(a) buried, or (b) lying in the churchyard, or (c)
ingeniously plastered into the wall of the tower
where they cannot be seen and where they cease
to be of the least interest, or else (a) destroyed.
A prime object seems to have been to assimilate
the tint of the walls to that of a cup of
coffee : also to procure a surface of unbroken

xiv Introduction.
colour. Another leading principle has evidently
been to introduce a quantity of varnished deal
furniture. A third, to overlay the floor in every
direction with " Minton's tiles " — except where the
perforations for the " heating apparatus " have
established a stronger claim. . The result is that
there is no longer discoverable a single inscribed
stone — certainly not in situ — from one end of the
church to the other. When will architects and
country parsons learn that the most unmeaning,
most commonplace, most vulgar thing with which
the floor of an ancient church can be covered is an
assortment of black and red tiles ? Is it not per
ceived at a glance that they must needs be unin
teresting, disappointing, and when they have pro
cured the ejectment of ancient sepulchral stones,
downright offensive ? Has the parish then no
history ? It had one — a history which thirty years
ago was to be seen written on the walls and on the
floor of the parish church. Is it tolerable that on
the plea of " restoration " these local records
should all have been obliterated ? How about the
men who ministered to the many generations who
once worshipped within these walls ? Behold,
they have (all but one) departed. And have they
then, like a long line of shadows, left no material
trace of their occupancy behind them? The
answer is obvious. Certain of them sleep in dust,
side by side, in front of the altar which they served
in their lifetime; and a row of sepulchral slabs until
yesterday acquainted the beholder at least with
their names, dates, ages. Am I to be told that
yonder assortment of parti-coloured tiles (which
are to be bought by the yard by anybody, any day,

Introduction. xv
anywhere) are so much more interesting than
those memorials of the past, that it is reasonable
they should cause their unceremonious ejectment ?
.... I have said nothing about the architectural
Vandalism of these last days, being without pro
fessional knowledge ; but I have the best reason
for knowing that the author of the ensuing " Re
collections " would have endorsed every word
which has gone before. O; that what has been
written might avail, if it were but in one quarter,
to arrest, the. work, of ruin which is stilt steadily
going forward throughout the length and breadth
of the land !
(5.) I recall with interest an opportunity I once
enjoyed (1 869-70) of acquainting myself with Sir
Gilbert's skill and conscientiousness in superin
tending a work of no great magnitude. The beau
tiful church of Houghton Conquest, in Bedford-
shirei had fallen into a state of exceeding de
cadence ; and the rector (the late Archdeacon
Rose) having been encouraged to invoke the
assistance of Sir Gilbert Scott, the architect paid
us a visit.. (I say us, because Houghton Rectory
was the happy home of all my. long vacations.)
Sir Gilbert fully shared our concern at the entire
destruction of the large east window, which had
been half blocked up, half replaced by a wooden
frame containing three vile mullions of wood.
After conducting him round, the Archdeacon and.
I took our seats by his side on the leads of the
nave, while he took a leisurely survey of the roof
of the structure. " What is that ? " he inquired,
directing his glass to the summit of the eastern

xvi

Introduction.

gable. I volunteered the statement that it was a
ruined fragment of the former cross, for such it
seemed. " That was never part of a cross," he at
last said thoughtfully ; " it is part of the tracery
of a window. I can see the cavity for the inser
tion of the glass." To be brief, it proved to be,
as he at once suspected, the one necessary clue
to the restoration of the east window. On the
window-sill, which was honeycombed with decay, -
his practised eye had already distinguished traces
oifoitr mullions. I need riot go on. A few more
fragments were found built into the wall, and the
entire window for the architect's purpose was
recovered. He preserved everything for us, from
the dilapidated screen to the old hour-glass stand.
Several specimens of fresco were revealed on the
walls ; a curious coat-of-arms in stained glass was
detected in the tower ; two windows which had
been closed were opened ; the grave-stones were
left in their places; the very reckoning of the
parson with certain members of the Conquest
family, scratched with the point of a knife (I sup
pose in the time of Queen Elizabeth) inside the
arch of the vestry door, was ordered to be reli
giously preserved. On the other hand, a por
tentous Georgian pulpit, furnished with a for
midable sounding-board above, and a species of
pen for the accommodation of the clerk beneath,
were banished. The sordid porch and plastered
ceiling of the chancel were supplanted by objects
exquisite in their respective ways.
(6.) I have said nothing hitherto about Sir
Gilbert's personal characteristics, disposition,

Introduction. xvii
habits of mind. It will be found that these
emerge with tolerable distinctness from the
autobiography which follows. His indomitable
energy and unflagging zeaj, as well as the en
lightened spirit . in which he pursued his lofty
calling : his enthusiasm for the great cause to
which he devoted himself to the very close of his
earthly life : these lie on the surface of his narra
tive. And here it is impossible not to admire the.
entire absence of any expression of professional
jealousy from first to last; and indeed the absence
of depreciatory language concerning others,—
although the man who worked after Wyatt in the
last century, after Blore in the present, might have
been excused if he had testified both surprise and
annoyance at what he was daily constrained to en
counter. — A stranger, I suspect, would have been
chiefly impressed by the exceeding modesty and
unassumingness of his manner, — " his beautiful
modesty," as one who knew him most intimately
has well phrased it ; adding a. tribute to " his per
fect breeding and courtesy, — not so much finish of
manner as genuine inbred politeness.'^ Such
" graces of-eharacter," writes -an other friend of his,
" will not soon be forgotten by those, who knew
him, however slightly." ¦ Obvious as it always was
that he entertained a decided opinion on the point
under discussion, he yet bore with the crude
remarks of persons who really knew nothing at all
about the matter in hand to an extent which used
to astonish me. Even when conversing with those
who were submissive and really only wished to learn,
there was no appearance of dictation or dogmatism.
His affability was extraordinary. While on this

xviii Introduction.
head let me not fail to acknowledge his wondrous
patience and kindness in matters of detail.
I must needs also again advert to the conserva
tive character of his genius. When I became Vicar
of St. Mary-the-Virgin's, Oxford (1863), I found
to my distress that Laud's porch was doomed.
The parishioners willingly listened to my recom
mendation, and it was spared. I- confessed what
I had done to Scott, and asked for his forgiveness
if I had counselled amiss : but he commended rile
highly. A few feet in advance of the porch how
ever, are two plain piers, erected in the last
century,: — either of them surmounted by a strange"
kind of dilapidated urn. Were they also to
stand ? I presumed that the architect who had
already removed the high wall which used to
enclose the north side of the churchyard, and
substituted for it the present elegant erection,
would have been for their removal: and certainly
I was not prepared to offer any resistance had I
discovered that such was actually his view. But
no. After a careful survey, he recommended that
they should be retained, and gave me his reasons
for retaining them. It was truly edifying and
interesting to hear his remarks on such occasions.
The thing was " historical ; " — or at least it was
" good of its kind ; " — or it " had. a certain cha
racter about it ; "—or " I don't altogether dislike
it." In short — =for whatever reason— the end of
the matter commonly was that " I think we had
better let it alone."
(7.) Notwithstanding all that has gone before

Introduction. xix
were I called upon to state my private estimate of
the man, I should avow that in my account, second
to noother personal characteristic was the ardour
of his domestic affections : first, his love for his
parents, brothers, sisters ; then his entire devotion
to his wife and his . children. There is many a
passage in the ensuing autobiography which bears
me out in this estimate. I well remember the
exceeding distress which the death of his son in
1865 at Exeter College occasioned him ; an event
on which- he had freely dilated with his peri, but
which it is thought was of too private a nature to
find here so extended a record. I should also
think it right to declare that in my account a deep
undercurrent of Religion, as it was the secret of
his strength and of his life, so was it also the secret
of his heart's affections : the fountain-head too, by
the way, of a certain playful joyousness of disposi
tion which came to the surface continually, and
never forsook him to the last. His general man- ,
ner, however, was grave and thoughtful ; and his
piety of that quiet and even reserved kind which
only occasionally comes to the surface, and easily
escapes observation altogether. No one about
him, in fact, not even his sons, knew the strength
and ardour of those religious convictions which
were with him an inheritance; for (as the reader
will be presently reminded) the Rev. Thomas
Scott,, of Aston Sandford, the commentator, was
his grandfather. To his faithful valet, who had •
repeatedly asked him to tell him (but had been in- j
variably put off with some evasive reply) how it
happened that the lower side of his. arms looked
galled and sore, had in facta leprous appearance, he

xx Introduction.
one day avowed as follows : " When I am praying,
especially for my sons, I feel I cannot do enough.
I feel kneeling, to be but little, and I prostrate my
self on the floor. I suppose that my arms from
this may have become a little galled." — He never
syllabled his wife's name in conversation with his
sons without a silent prayer for her repose ; and
when out of doors, he would always raise his hat
(the token of how he was mentally engaged) at
the mention of her cherished name.— I trust it is
not wrong to reveal such matters. One must
either practise reticence, and so conceal the cha
racter which one professes to exhibit faithfully:
or else risk offending the very persons probably
whose good opinion one would chiefly be glad to
conciliate.

JOHN W. BURGON.

The, Deanery, Chichester,
May ijth, 1S79.

SIR GILBERT SCOTT.

Personal and Professional Recollections, 1864.

CHAPTER I.
My motive in jotting down the following mis
cellaneous recollections is this :— that a man's
children have no means whatever of getting at the
particulars of his life up. to the time when their
own observation and memory begin to avail them,
and that they are peculiarly apt to receive mis
taken impressions. It is consequently, as it ap
pears to me, the duty of every one who has
appeared much before the public to supply this
defect from his own memory, and thus to prevent
misapprehension. ............ . .-,,..
I was born at the parsonage-house at Gawcott,
near Buckingham, on July'i3th, 181 1. Though my
father, like myself, was born in Bucks, I hardly feel
that I have in reality any very direct connection
with that county, clergymen being so much birds
of passage, that the place of their children's birth
seems little more, than a matter of chance.
My grandfather, the Rev. Thomas Scott, so
well known by his commentary oh the Bible
and other works, was a native of Lincolnshire,

2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
where his father was a considerable agriculturist.
I have not been able to ascertain whether the
latter was a native of that county, but as his
eldest son1 took some pains to disclaim connec
tion with families of the same name in his neigh
bourhood, I infer that such was not the case.
He (the father of my grandfather) was born
in the time of William III. (1701)' and was
connected by marriage with the Kelsalls of Kel-
sall in Cheshire, the representative of which
family was about that time vicar of Boston.2
His wife was. one of the Wayets,3 a very respec
table county family. From the arms made use of
by my grandfather's family, I gather that they must
have sprung from the Scotts of Scott's Hall in
Kent, who left Scotland in the thirteenth century.*
My mother's family were West Indians. Of
the family of her father, Dr. Lynch of the island
of Antigua, I know but little,, but her maternal
grandfather was the possessor, at that time, of a
valuable estate known as " Gilbert's Estate."
This family settled at a very early date, in
Antigua, previous to which they had resided in
Devonshire, one of their representatives being
Sir Humphrey Gilbert, half-brother and com
panion-in-arms of Sir Walter Raleigh. .
1 William Scott, of Grimblethorpe Hall, near Louth. — Ed.
2 Edward Kelsall, Vicar of Boston, 1702 — 1719. See Mac
kenzie's, edition of Guillim's " Display of Heraldry," p. 68.
3 He married Mary Wayet of Boston. One of her sisters
was married to Lancelot Brown, "the omnipotent magician
Brown " of Cowper's "Task," Bk. III. The family of Wayet
was also settled at Tumby in Bain, in the same county. — Ed.
* One branch of this Kentish family was settled at Rotherham,
in Yorkshire, in the reign of Edward I V. — Ed.

chap. i.J Recollections. 3
My great-grandfather, Nathaniel Gilbert, ap
pears to have been a most excellent man. Living
in a century of extreme deadness in religious
matters, he was roused to a sense of the short
comings of his age in this respect either by the
preaching or by the writings of Wesley. He
consequently joined the Wesleyans at a time
when they were not considered as severed from
the Church of England. At his- request Wesley
sent over to Antigua some ministers of his society
to instruct the -negroes- and others, but though' '
the whole family joined the new . society, it is -
clear that Mr. Gilbert did not consider himself
otherwise than a member of the Church of Eng
land, for he brought up his eldest son as a clergy
man. Nor do I recollect even a hint of those
members of the family who were living during
my childhood (including my grandmother and a
great-aunt, Miss Elizabeth Gilbert,) being other
than Church people, although the last named
treasured up most affectionately her personal
recollections of John Wesley himself, and retained
through life a strong sympathy with his followers.
This family was indirectly connected with several
good families in England, among Others with that
of Lord Northampton, with the Abdy's,. and with
the Gordons of Stocks. Sir Edward Colehrooke
once told me that he was connected with the
Gilberts, and Sir Denis Le Marchant also through -
his marriage, as also Lady Seymour, wife of canon
Sir John Seymour, and Sir George Grey.
My father, the Rev. Thomas Scott, was the^_-
second son of the well-known commentator. He
was born at Weston- Underwood in Bucks, during
B2

4 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the short period of my grandfather's residence
as curate of that village in 1 780. My grandfather,
about that time, served several churches in that
district. The next year he removed to Olney,
the former curate of which, John Newton, was
his intimate friend; where he was brought a good
deal in contact with the poet Cowper, who was
his next-door neighbour. I well recollect an old
man occasionally calling on us at Gawcott, who
had known my grandfather at that early period
of his clerical life. My Native Village.
The following notice of my native village, and
of some of its inhabitants, its customs, &c., I give
merely as a memento of times in which, though
not long gone by, there remained much more
of old manners than has survived to the present
day. Gawcott is a hamlet of, and situated a mile and
a half from, Buckingham. It had had a chapel
in former times, as is proved by a field retaining
the name of " chapel close," and showing marks
of ancient building. How long this had ceased
to exist I do not know, probably for some cen
turies. The absence of a church had its natural
consequences, producing a partly heathenish and
partly dissenting population. The former of these
evils, and perhaps to some degree the latter, was
so much felt by one of its inhabitants that he
determined on refounding a-church in his native
village. This excellent person, one John West,
was a man of humble origin, who had made what
to. him was a considerable fortune by the trade

chap. i.J Recollections. 5
of a ¦ lace-buyer, that is to say, by acting as
middle-man between the poor lace-maker and the
trader. The difficulties he met with in carrying
out his generous- project were considerable. I
have often heard my father say that after the.
church was built he had the greatest difficulty
in getting it consecrated, and that he at last
sent a message to the bishop (Tomline of
Lincoln) in these words :—" Tell the bishop
that if he won't consecrate it I'll give it to the
dissenters," — a message "which had the desired
effect. This church or chapel, erected during
the first years of the present century, was perhaps
as absurdly unecclesiastical a structure as could
be conceived. Enclosed between four walls
forming a short wide oblong, it had a roof
sloping all ways, crowned by a belfry such as one
sees over the stables of a country house. The
pulpit occupied the middle of the south side, the
pews facing it from the north, the east, and the
west, and a gallery occupying the north side, in
the centre of which were perched, the singers and
the' band of clarionets, bass-viols, &c, by which
their performances were accompanied. The font,
I well recollect, was a washhand-stand with a
white basin! The advowson was placed in the
hands of five trustees, all being incumbents of
parishes in the neighbourhood, and belonging to
the then very scarce Evangelical party. My
father was the first " Perpetual Curate." There
was at first no parsonage, and he lived for a time
in the vicarage at Buckingham (the vicar being
non-resident), where my two eldest brothers (and
one who died in infancy) were born. He soon,

6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
however, raised. funds for the erection of a par
sonage, which, as he had a fancy for planning,
he designed himself, — and I must not find fault
with my native house. It was close to the
church. My earliest recollections of the church bear
upon the digging of the vault for the founder and
my sitting in the gallery at his funeral,- and seeing
it pass the opposite Windows. This was in 1814;
so that it is a pretty youthful reminiscence, yet
though it is my earliest, it does not come to me
otherwise than any other, and does not seem by
any means like a beginning, showing that though
we forget what happened in our early childhood,
we nevertheless have no feeling of being incapa
ble of observing and remembering it. Here, for
instance, I can recollect who dug the vault, and
who took me to church, and I -.have a full sense
of being conscious of who they said Mr. West
was, and of the house he had lived in, though I
was but three years old.
The inhabitants of Gawcott were a very quaint
race. I recollect my father saying that when he
first went there to reconnoitre, he found the road
to it rendered impassable by a large hole dug
across it, in which the inhabitants were engaged
in baiting a badger, a promising prelude to an
evangelical ministry among them. However he
succeeded in bringing the place in due time into
a more seemly state as to externals, though, the
old leaven remained, and a certain amount of
poaching and other forms of rural blackguardism
still prevailed. There grew up amongst all this,
however, a good proportion of really excellent

chap. i.J Recollections. j
people, some of whom had at one time belonged
to the previously more normal type.
The neighbourhood of Buckingham is by no
means picturesque. It is situated geologically at
the junction of the Oxford clay with the lower
oolite, and though in other districts the latter
rises into high and picturesque hills, such is not
the case with this portion of its course. It is a
plain, slightly undulated, agricultural country,
partly arable, but mainly devoted to dairy farming,
butter being the only-produce for which it is
famous. It is (or rather was) here and there
well wooded with oak, is everywhere enclosed,
with a good deal of hedge-row timber, sadly dis
figured by lopping, and there is usually some
more ornamental timber round the villages. The
latter, as a rule, retained some traces of the "Great
House " the residence of the old proprietor who
had in most instances succumbed to the all-
absorbing influence of a single family, originally
one of their own— -the squire-race, but then
become the. Marquises and subsequently the
Dukes of Buckingham, who from their semi-regal
seat of Stowe, some four miles from my own
humble village, lorded it over the county. An
unpicturesque country, denuded of its natural
aristocracy, is no doubt very dull and unattractive,
yet it possesses some interest in the natural and
quaint character of its inhabitants and in its reten-
tiveness of old customs. I have never met with so
many odd eccentric characters as in my native vil
lage, nor do I suppose that there were, even then,
many districts in which old customs were better
kept up. Whether they are so still, I know not.

8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
The cottages were usually of the old thatched
type, built of rough stone, or of timber and plaster.
The one sitting-room known as " the house " had
the old-fashioned chimney-corner, in the sides of
which the master and mistress of the family sat,
with the wood fire, placed upon bars and bricks,
on the floor between them. In the ample chimney
over their heads hung the bacon, for the benefit
of the smoke, and below it all sorts of utensils
for which dryness was to be desired, and high
overhead as they sat there the occupants could
see the sky through the vertical smoke-shaft.
The room was paved with unshapen slabs of stone
from the neighbouring quarry or " stone-pit " and
the oaken floor timbers showed overhead, though
hardly sufficiently so for a tall man to feel his
head to be safe. Between one of these timbers
and the floor there was placed (where babies were
to be found) a vertical post, which revolved on its
central axis and from which projected an arm of
wood with a circular ring or hoop at its end, so
contrived as to open and shut. By passing this
about the baby's body the little thing could run
round and round at will, while its mother was
busied at her household work or at the lace-
pillow. The bedroom arrangements I do not
recollect, but I do not think they were so defective
as those we now so often hear of, and the gene
rality of cottages had a pretty ample garden.
The farmers did not live very differently as to
general forms from the cottagers, the difference
lying chiefly in the very substantial distinction be
tween abundance and scantiness of fare. They
usually lived in the " house " or kitchen, though

chap. i.J Recollections. 9
they (and indeed some of the cottagers) had
" parlours " which were only used when they had
company. In a corner- of the "parlour" was
usually a smart cupboard called a " bofette."
I have heard my father say that Mr. West, the
founder of the church, lived in the same room
with his servants, all helping themselves at dinner
from a common dish placed in the middle of the
round table.
In the midst of this funny population we lived
almost as "a stranger colony. " My father was" by
education a Londoner, and my mother too, though ,
a West-Indian by birth, had been educated in •
London, as were alsO my grandmother and my
great-aunt, who resided with us, while our isola
tion was rather increased, than otherwise, by my
father taking seven or eight pupils who came from
all parts of the kingdom, and by our mixing very
little indeed in local society, though we had
numerous friends at a distance, who occasionally
visited us. Our few local friends lived in the
neighbouring town of Buckingham, and now and
then a clergyman was admitted to our ac
quaintance : most of them, however, shunned us
. as evangelicals, or as they were then called
" methodists," My recollections of the period of my youth are
indeed very curious in this respect, I mean as to
the relations which at that time (up to 1830 and
later) subsisted between an evangelical clergyman
and his family, and the other clerical families
around them.
Now be it remembered that my father was in
his way very much of a man of. the world.

10 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Having been brought up in town, he had seen
a good deal of life in one way or another. He
was the farthest possible from being a sanctimo
nious man, and, though he made religion his pri
mary object and guide, he did not bring it to the
front or parade it in the least degree so as to give
offence to others. He was, in addition to this, a
peculiarly gentlemanly man, ready and well fitted
for any society, and as much at home with men of
rank as with his equals or inferiors. He was also
a man of especially popular manners", more so than
almost any man I recollect, thoroughly genial,
merry, and courteous in all companies and to all
comers. My mother too was a particularly ladylike per
son, a hater of all vulgarity, an absolute detester
of all low and unworthy motives, and ready to
sacrifice any advantage rather than risk any, even
the most punctilious, point of honour or high feel
ing. She was well-born, of a good old family
called on the monument of one of them 5 (a stranger
to us) in Petersham church, " generosa et peran-
tiqua familia."
She was related to persons of good position :
her grandfather and uncle were West India
planters, (the former, President of the Assembly
in his island), whose family had intermarried with
baronets, and in one case with a marquis, so that
there was no social or personal reason for our not
being familiar with our neighbours, but the reverse.

5 T

Thomas Gilbert. He was, says his epitaph, "Integer,
probus, severe Justus, fidus ad amicos, ad omnes, ad Deum ;
sine promissis, sine dissimulatione, sine superstitione, firmus,
benevolus, pius." He died in 1766. — Ed.

chap, i.J Recollections. n
Yet how many of the neighbouring incumbents
ever called on us or Ave on them ?. I may almost
say not one. I have no recollection of knowing
the wife, son, or daughter, of any clergyman in
the neighbourhood, and none ever appeared at
our table, with the exception of one or two curates
who had slightly evangelical tendencies. I do not
know whether this arose most from, the exclusive
ness of the "evangelicals," or from the repugnance
felt toward. them by other clergymen, perhaps
from both. I recollect one highly eccentric rector
hard by, a master of a college at Oxford, who
had assisted the son of a farmer, who showed
literary talent, to enter the church, and had signed
his testimonials for deacons' orders^ refusing to do
the same for him Avhen he went up for priests'
orders, because he had once taken duty for my
father in his absence. Of this rector I used to
hear that when once led, the worse for his cups,
through the quadrangle of his college, he ex
claimed, .-" All this I do to purge my college from
the stain of methoclism ! " (Wesley had been of
his college). This, however, \vas of course an
extreme case, and the man both eccentric and
disreputable. The ordinary incumbents contented
themselves Avith taking no more notice of us than
if we did not exist. Even common civilities were
so rare, that I recollect the pleasure which my
father expressed when he met with any. There
were a feAV exceptions, and my father in one or
two cases was in the habit of helping a neighbour,
but as a rule no incumbents ever appeared at our
table, nor any of us at theirs, nor indeed did we
know more than two or three, even by , sight,

1 2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
much less to speak to. I remember that my
father used to speak with great respect of Mr.
Palmer, the father of the present Lord Selborne,
but no acquaintance existed between them.
Now let it not be for a moment imagined that
it was because these clerical neighbours held what
are now called " High Church views." Not a bit
of it. No such notions existed among, or would
as a rule have been understood by them. The
greater part of them preached mere moral essays,
Avhich would have come almost as naturally from
a respectable pagan. What most of them hated
was the name of " methodist," while some of
them resented the essential doctrines of the
christian religion, such as the Atonement, and
the influence of the Holy Spirit, which went
among them by the name of " enthusiasm," 6 and
among the best of those who did not exactly
define their objections, there was one sentiment
in which they all concurred, that " as concerning
this sect, Ave know that everywhere it is spoken
against." Nor was there less feeling on our own side. My
father and mother would not have allowed us to
associate with Avhat they termed "worldly peo
ple," nor would they themselves be intimate Avith
clergymen Avhom they considered " not to preach
the gospel," so that as the result of these two
influences we were absolutely isolated.
It is a curious question what the rank and file
of these old " high-and-dry " men really were. I
cannot see any resemblance betAveen them and the
8 The old toast of "Prosperity to the establishment and
confusion to enthusiasm " illustrates this state of feeling.  Ed.

chap. i.J Recollections. 13
present high churchmen ; though, on the other
hand, the fact remains that the high churchmen
have naturally succeeded to them, and they have
lapsed into the high church party. Nevertheless
I do not imagine that they held any doctrine
in common Avith their successors, unless it be bap
tismal regeneration, which the old men possibly
held ; not indeed actively, but just as a safeguard
against the " methodistical " doctrine of " conver
sion." They held, I suppose, that the wicked
suffer future punishment;, but, any severe pres
sure of that doctrine they practically repudiated.
They were, I think, theoretically believers, but
practically or passively disbelievers, in the prin
cipal doctrines of Christianity. They did not hate
evangelicals so much from differing with them on
specific points, as because they pressed religion
and piety as the chief aim of their teaching,
whereas the high-and-dry men did not care, or
take the trouble to do so, the fact being that they
were not religious men.
They seem to me to have been practically
Pelagians, though they knew nothing and cared
nothing about what they were, being content with
the consciousness that they were neither " me-
thodists " nor " enthusiasts " and that they detested
both.- This, however, does not apply to the lead
ing men of the party, many of whom were ex
cellent, as they were undoubtedly learned, men ;
who held, in the main, a good and orthodox code
of doctrine- — so much so, that when the evan
gelicals came to compare notes carefully with
them, they did not find very much difference, ex
cepting that these made more of sacraments and

14 Sir Gilbert Scott.
less of conversion, of original sin, and of the in
fluence of the Holy Spirit, and that they repudiated
co-operation with dissenters in any matter what
ever (e. g. in the Bible Society), Avhile the evan
gelicals did not object to anything which they
thought would promote earnest religion.
Many of the bishops who belonged to this
better stratum of the old high-and-dry party hated
the evangelicals even worse than the less moral
of their opponents did. I remember one of them
at a visitation, publicly rebuking a most pious and
zealous evangelical for some irregular act, such as
preaching in the open air, or something of that
kind, and afterwards taking Avine at the visitation
dinner with a clergyman so noted for his immo
rality that he subsequently had to be chassied
altogether. My father and mother were among the most
admirable people I have ever met with, and the
most affectionate of couples. Their marriage
Avas purely a love-match, though strengthened by
the ties of earnest piety. They had become
acquainted shortly after my grandfather had taken
the living of Aston Sandford, near to which is the
semi-romantic village of BledloAv, on the edge of
the Chilterns, of Avhich my mother's uncle, the
Rev. Nathaniel Gilbert, was rector. My mother,
having lost her father at a very early age, had
been brought by her mother and aunt to England,
and had been educated in London, as also had my
father, though they did not become acquainted till
they met in Buckinghamshire, at one of the neigh
bouring rectories. They Avere married in the
beautiful church, of Bledlow, and such was the

chap. i.J Recollections. 15
simplicity of manners in that county and time that
— •" tell it not in Gath " — my father took his Avife
home seated on a pillion, and that from the house
of the proprietor of a considerable West Indian
estate, a man of no mean connexions, and a Buck
inghamshire rector ! This simplicity, however,
suited their means, Avhich Avere Arery slender. My
parents, as I have said, Avere both of them Avhat
may be called "well-bred," both by nature and
training "gentlefolk." I have often Avitnessed,
with admiring wonder, my .father's gentlemanly
address when he met with persons of a higher
station, so superior to what we young villagers-
could ever hope to attain to. He was a man of
popular and winning manner, and of a remark
ably commanding aspect, so that, while he felt at
home with persons of any rank, he could at once
quell, almost Avith his eye, the most obstreperous
parishioner, and even insane persons, under the
most violent paroxysms, would yield to him with
out resistance.
My mother had been beautiful in her youth,
and, Avhen I first remember her, was a very noble
and stately person, somewhat taller than my father,
with an aquiline nose, piercing, though soft, dark,
hazel eyes, and black hair. She Avas indeed a
commanding woman, though of an intensely affec
tionate disposition, and devoted to her husband,
her family, and the parish. Were it not for such
parents, and for our having been kept aloof from
the rough society of the place, and brought in
contact Avith strangers, owing to my father taking
pupils, I cannot conceive to what degree of rus
ticity we should have fallen ! As it was, we all

1 6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
came, out into the Avorld, certainly somewhat'
ungarnished, but rather plain than rustic. Our
parents always tried to impress upon us the
feelings of gentlemen, in a degree only second
to their endeavours to train us up religiously.
Our village, as I have already said, was full of
odd, quaint characters. I will describe a few of
them. To begin with the farmers : — Our great farmer
was Mr. LaAV. He cultivated two large farms,
one Avhich he rented, and the other his own free
hold. We held him, and I believe rightly, to be
very rich. He was nepheAV and executor to the
founder of the church, and from him my father
received the scanty endoAvment. He Avas a short,
burly man, of no great talent, but a very Avorthy,
good-natured -person ; he was perpetual church-
Avarden, and always lined the plate he held at the
church doors after charity sermons with a one-
pound note, with Avhich now obsolete form of
money (called, from its greasiness, " filthy lucre ")
his breeches-pockets were always well filled.
Then there Avas old Zachery Meads, a sulky,
obtuse old giant, who was never seen at church,
or ever expected to do anything good.
Next there Avas Benjamin Warr, a splendid old
yeoman, who, Avith his sturdy wife and a family of
twenty children (most of the sons six feet high),
made a fair show in one of our square pews.
Then, again, John Walker (of Lenborough, an
allied hamlet), a downright, thoroughly excellent
specimen of an English farmer— -a man of sterling
sense, honour, and excellence in every Avay_ (By-
the-bye, he is but just dead, and I saw his mourn-

chap. i.J Recollections. 1 7
ing-card but yesterday.)7 He has, since our day,
been more than once mayor of Buckingham. He
was our best singer, our best yeomanry cavalier,
our best dairy farmer, our most strong-headed and
right-minded parishioner, and Avithal a really
christian man.
The other farmers had nothing very marked.
which merits notice. They used to dress much
more in the true John Bull style than is now the
fashion. Their costume was a long frock coat, a
very long waistcoat, divided at 'the bottom below
the buttons, and reaching over the hips, corduroy
knee-breeches, and, when not top-booted, shoes
with large buckles. They usually carried a gun,
and were accompanied by a sporting dog.
Among the labourers Ave had many very excel
lent men, men of real piety and Avorth, though I
need not describe them individually. I may men
tion that, so far as I can recollect, these men were
all decently educated, though hoAV this came about
I do not know. Indeed, oddly enough it seems
to me that inability to read Avas less frequent forty
years ago among these rustic labourers than it is
now in the immediate neighbourhood of London.
In our time we had sunday-schools, and there Avas
a village schoolmaster who kept school on his
own account, but we had no parish school, beyond
a national school at Buckingham. The females
were all employed in lace-making, Avhich was com
menced so early in life as to leave little time for
schooling, yet I fancy they could very generally
read, and they Avere by no means ignorant of Bible
history and of general religious knoAvledge.
7 January, 1864. -r- C

1 8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Amone the more eccentric inhabitants of our
village I may mention a man of the name of
Walker, surnamed " Tom O' Gawcott," a super
annuated prize-fighter, whose great boast was
that he would never " darken the doors of Jack
West's church ; " but in his old age he relented,
and he died a truly religious man.
. One of our village characters Avas a Mrs. Warr,
who kept a shop for "tea, coffee, tobacco, and
snuff," opposite to the churchyard. As in our
childish days Ave were not allowed to go into the
village alone, " Mother Warr," as Ave used to call
her, carried on a great trade with us in lollypops,
&c, by answering our call across the road from
the churchyard ; a brook ran through the village
street, and she or her old husband had placed
stepping-stones to aid her passage to and fro. It
Avas quite a picture to see her in her quaint, old-
fashioned dress rise at our call from her lace-
pillow, and step nimbly across the brook Avith her
sweet wares. She wore a high cap, with her hair
brushed vertically from her forehead, her stay-
laces showed in front, and her gown, divided at
the waist and gathered up in a bundle behind,
exposed to view a stiff glazed blue petticoat; she
had short sleeves hanging loosely from her elboAvs,
and large buckles to her shoes, and on Sundays
she added long silk gloves, a black mantilla
edged Avith lace and a bonnet of antique cut.
Personally she Avas tall and dignified, as became
her costume, and in mind as strong as you please,
and by no means disposed to be trifled with,
though generally condescending and benignant.
Her husband, surnamed "Old Baccy," Avas equally

chap. i.J Recollections. ciq
antique, though by no means her equal in other
ways. The village was as eccentric in its diseases as
in its other conditions. Two of .its inhabitants,
both named Warr, suffered from the strano-est
form of madness, and poor old Molly, " Mother
Warr's " sister-in-laAV, was one of them. I have
heard that she and two others, Avhile girls, had
been seized Avith "St. Vitus' dance," and were
kept shut up. together in the same room, where
at certain hours, when St. Vitus was rampant,
they commenced dancing till the room was not
high enough for their capers. At this -particular
stage in their disorder the charming influence
of the fiddle, played by a boy, was prescribed,
which had the effect of reducing the more active
form of the attack, but in the case of poor Molly,
left matters not much the better, for ever after
wards she had two fits of raving madness in the
twenty-four hours— -at noon and at midnight.
During eleven hours she was quiet and inoffen
sive, though the subject to her neighbours of a
strange mysterious awe, which was perhaps one
of the hindrances to our venturing to the shop
for our lollypops, for when we did so she occa
sionally served us herself, to our intensest horror,
for our dread of her, even during her lucid
intervals, was beyond description.
One of the two other sufferers from St. Vitus'
dance was known amongst us as "Nanny White;"
• the success of the boy fiddler had in her case been
perfect, and she had attained a good old age, not
in strong health, for she was, poor old lady,
tremulous through a tendency to palsy. -I call
C 2

20 Sir Gilbert Scott.
her a lady advisedly, because she was what one
may term a peasant-lady. She was a person of
earnest piety and of admirable conduct, — an aris
tocrat among the peasantry. Her income was
30/. a year, but she lived almost in state. We
Avent as children once a year to drink tea with
her (which was more than Ave were allowed to do
Avith any of the farmers, but good John Walker),
when she received us Avith great dignity, dressed
in her. best old-fashioned clothes. The good little
old lady sat smiling and shaking in' her arm-chair,
while her waiting-maid handed about the tea and
cake ; we all sat round on old high-backed chairs
Avith twisted pillars and cane backs, Avhich, by-the-
bye, she had bought at a sale of the furniture of the
latest despoiled of the neighbouring great houses
(that at Hillesden, which I shall mention anon).
We sat on that occasion, for the nonce, in her
" parlour," while in the " house " through Avhich it
was approached was the old dresser, under which
was a series of copper cauldrons of gradually
diminishing sizes, presenting their highly polished
interiors to the spectator. This good old woman
some years after, when my father had to rebuild
his church, made out of her savings a really hand
some subscription as " a friend," no one but my
father arid mother knoAving whence it came till
after her death. I recollect that she had at one
time for her maid and companion a young person
named " Betsy Scott." I wish I kneAV enough
of her to sketch her character. She Avas a "lusus
naturae," both in intellect and piety, and after her
death (of consumption) my father wrote a memoir
of her, embodying many letters and papers of her

chap. i.J Recollections. 21
Avriting, some I think in poetry. I well recollect
his applying to her the quotation from Gray : —
" Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean, bear ;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."
Two of our favourite village characters were a
half-cracked man, and a semi-simpleton; the one
known as " Cracky Meads," and the other as
" Tailor King." The former had been a soldier,
and on his return from campaigning had found
that his elder brother had inflicted upon him a very
base injury, which drove the poor fellow out of
his mind. After this his great desire was to
build himself a house with his own unaided hands
on a piece of waste ground by a road side. He
made many beginnings, but what he built in the
day the young men of the village pulled down
at night. At length, however, his perseverance
and active defence of his work prevailed, and he
succeeded in completing a very tolerable bachelor's
cottage. He enclosed a long piece of waste as a
garden, Avhich he successfully cultivated, and with
the help of his pension lived pretty comfortably.
He was, when unexcited, quiet, sullen, and in
offensive ; but it took only a little skilfully directed
conversation to stir him up tremendously in dif
ferent ways. His most interesting excitement
Avas that of warlike reminiscence, when he would
tell endless tales of his personal experiences,
sometimes enacting them with the bayonet, which
he kept under his bed, with a vigour hardly con
sistent Avith the safety of his audience. His most
terrible movements, however, were against his

22 Sir Gilbert Scott.
brother, upon whom his imprecations were as
fearful as they Avere deserved. He Avas popular
among my father's pupils, both for these displays,
and for his services in getting them eggs, and
boiling or frying them in his cottage, and for
allowing occasionally a little indulgence in the
form of a pipe of tobacco.
Poor " Tailor King" was a very different but
equally amusing character. He Avas blessed Avith
but a scanty store of sense, but had a double
supply of instinct. His intincts were wholly de
voted to sporting matters. He was ahvays pre
sent in the hunting-field, knew of course Avhere
every meet Avould take place, and by long practice
in the ways of the fox, could so surely prejudge
his course, as by Avary cuts to keep up with, the
hunters. The time lost to his trade by these
digressions Avas made up for by the rewards
received for occasional aid, taking home a lame
dog, assisting a fallen rider or a damaged horse,
and so he made his hunting pay. He could
sometimes tell the very hole in the hedge through
which the fox Avould emerge from the wood. He
Avas an uncouth figure, his neck all on one side
from catching it in a forked bough Avhile leaping
a hedge. He hunted in a light green coat, knee
breeches, and Ioav shoes. We Avere often sent
by my mother, if she wanted a hare, to Mr. Law
to ask if he would shoot one for her, and his
constant reply was, " I'll go and ask the tailor,"
or as he pronounced it " tyahlor." We then
Avent together to the tailor's shop, where he Avas .
sitting cross-legged at his window. " D'ye know
where there's ever a hare (yahr) sittin', tyahler ?"

chap. i.J Recollections. 23
was the constant question, and the tailor could
always tell or show where to find one. His con
versation was a mixture of ludicrous simplicity
with instructive cunning, and by the amusement
of his talk and the general character of his in
stincts, he became a great favourite among us
boys. Another favourite Avas old " Warr of the Wood-
house," a clever skilled old Avoodman ; but I am
ashamed to say that. Ave only cared for him Avhen
he Avas drunk, or "market-merry" as he called
it, Avhich took place once a week on market-day.
When he died, after my leaving home, poor old
"Mother Warr" and her husband retired from
their shop to the said Avoodhouse, where they
ended their days. My wife saAv the old woman
there in her old age, later than I did myself, and
says that she never saw so picturesque a figure ;
tall, straight, and dignified still, in her last-century
dress, sitting at her door in the wood plying her
spinning-Avheel. These are a few specimens,, but the whole place
was full of character, even where there are no very
salient points to depict. The old women seem
to my recollection to belong to another age, and
the sturdy Avorthiness of many of the men, with
their funny old-fashioned way of expressing them
selves, formed a most agreeable contrast to the
contemporary tendency to pauperism, which was
silently making way among the less estimable
part of the population, avIio, like spotted sheep, in
time infected the flock.
Our own family was a large and rapidly in
creasing one. My eldest brother was a youth of

24. Sir Gilbert Scott.
remarkable talent and was vieAved as a little god
by his brothers and even by his parents. This
had a bad effect on me. He Avas looked on as a
representative person, and all efforts Avere con
centrated upon him. His next brother got a
little attention at second hand, and being a boy of
steady industry and good ability, he got on ; but I,
the third, Avas too far removed to pick up even
the crumbs, and not having a natural love of
books and nothing occurring to make, me love
them, I came off but badly, I Avas also under
the disadvantage of having no boys of my own
age to Avork Avith ; indeed Avith all my faults I was
fonvarder than any who Avere at all of my OAvn
standing, so that at twelve or thirteen, I had to
be classed with idle fellows of eighteen or more ;
a desultory way of going on Avhich was very in
jurious. I ought certainly to have gone to school,
but this was out of the question. My father Avas
poor, and as he took pupils himself, he was too
busy with the older ones, often men of from twenty
to twenty-five or more, to give me much of his
personal attention, so that I slipped through be
tween wind and water. I do believe, hoAvever,
that if encouraged and helped, I should have
done Avell, and in mathematics I did get on fairly.
My great relief from this life of heedlessness.
and rough handling Avas the visit of the drawing-
master. Though I never acquired" any very high
powers of draAving under him, I can never be too
grateful for his help and kind encouragement.
He was a Mr. Jones, of Buckingham, who had
been in his youth patronized by some of the
Stowe family, and had been sent to London, where

chap. i.J Recollections. 25
he became a student at the Royal Academy, and
was much noticed by Sir Joshua Reynolds, of
whom he entertained an affectionate remembrance.
Foolishly, however, he returned to his native
town, and had consequently failed of reaching the
eminence for which nature had fitted him. He
supported himself as a drawing-master, and occa
sional- portrait-painter. His visits twice a week
were the yery joy of my life.. I remember, as if
it were yesterday, and almost feel again while
thinking of it, my anxiety Avhen he Avas a little
late in coming, my frequent glances tOAvards the
path by which he reached our garden, and my
heart-felt joy Avhen I saAV his loose drab gaiters
through the bushes. Mr. Jones was a mild, be
nignant, and humble-minded old man, and though
he had not attained eminence, he was thoroughly
grounded in his art. His knowledge of anatomy
and of perspective was perfect, as Avas his ac
quaintance Avith the principles of colouring,
whether in oil or water-colour, and his poAvers of
drawing were remarkable. Yet his training had
stopped short of bringing his poAvers to bear upon
actual high-class Avork of his oAvn. I often wish
I had some of his drawings, I am sure they must
evince the elements of genius, though unmatured,
and consistently enough with this, he instilled into
my mind an intense love for the subject without
any ripened knoAvledge or skill. While, however,
depreciating myself on this and other subjects, it
is fair, to mention that my home schooling termi
nated Avhen I was only about fourteen and a half
years old. The little I learned of French my
mother taught me, and I might, had I Avorked

26 Sir Gilbert Scott.
hard, have learned it well, as she understood it
perfectly, and spoke it with ease. My eldest
brother had also a good French master, in whose
instruction unhappily I did not participate.
Hoav infinitely important it is for boys to feel
the duty and necessity for exertion. Though I
have reason to be most thankful for my success in
life, the defects of my education have been like a
millstone about my neck, and have made me
almost dread superior society. A very little extra
attention Avould have obviated this, for if with
the same means of education my brother carried
off in his freshman's year one of the highest univer
sity classical scholarships, Avhy should not I have
been a fair classic ? It is one of the greatest
wonders of my life to witness the Avay in which
young men deliberately throw away their chances
of eminence and seem satisfied Avith the bare
prospect of getting a living ; as if man Avas born,
not to do the very utmost in his day and genera
tion Avhich the talents committed to him render
attainable, but merely to exist. Old Sir Robert
Peel, as I Avas told by his son, used to say that if
any youth of ordinary ability made up his mind
as to his object in life and bent all his energies to
its attainment, he Avould be almost certain of success,
and this led the son of Sir Robert to determine,
Avhen a child, that he would be prime minister, and
to persevere till he became so.
Being younger than most of my father's pupils
(who, in fact, Avere many of them matured men,
Avho had determined late in life to read for the
church), I had very little companionship, and I
became a solitary wanderer in woods and fields,

chap. i.J Recollections. 27
and about the old churches, &c, in the neighbour
hood. I have a tolerably distinct recollection of my
grandfather, the author of the Commentary on
the holy scriptures. We used to visit him en
masse about once a year ; it was a time of great
joy and excitement when it came round. The
post-chaise was ordered from Buckingham, and
usually was made to carry seven. My father arid
mother occupied the seat, three small children
stood in front, and two sat on the "dickey," while
the fat old postboy rode as postillion. It was
some twenty-five miles to Aston Sandford, and I
think I could find my way now by my recollections
of that date. My grandfather was, as I remember
him, a thin, tottering old man, very grave and
dignified. Being perfectly bald, he wore a black
velvet cap, excepting when he went to church,
when he assumed a venerable wig. He wore
knee-breeches, Avith silver buckles, and black silk
stockings, and a regular shovel hat. His amuse
ment was gardening, but he was almost constantly
at work in his study. At meals, when I chiefly
saw him, he Avas rather silent, owing to his deaf
ness, which rendered it difficult to him to join in
general conversation. I well remehiber, when
any joke had excited laughter at the table, that he
would beg to be informed what it was, and when
brought to understand it, he would only deign to
utter a single word — " Pshaw ! " One day, as we
sat at dinner, a very old apple-tree, loaded with
fruit, suddenly gave way and fell to the ground,
to the surprise of our party, and I remember my
grandfather remarking that he wished that might

28 Sir Gilbert Scott.
be his OAvn end, to break down in his old age
under the weight of good fruit. Family prayers
at Aston Rectory Avere formidable, particularly to
a child. They lasted a full hour, several persons
from the village usually attending. I can picture
to my mind my grandfather Avalking to church in
his gown and cassock, his long curled wig, and
shovel hat.8 He had a most venerable look, and
I felt a sort of dread at it. On Sundays he had
a constant guest at his table— -the barber, to whom
he was beholden for his wig. Those who are not
acquainted with the evangelical party in its earlier
days can hardly understand the Avay in which
community of religious feeling Avas alloAved to
over-ride difference of worldly position. I recol
lect the same at GaAvcott, Avhere, though not
alloAved to associate even with our Avealthiest
farmer, we ever Avelcomed to our table a very poor
brother of his, in position scarcely above a labourer,
Avho was a man of piety, and came many miles on
sunday to attend our church. The same was the
8 My father's recollections upon the subject of clerical dress
may be of interest. He has often told me that in the earliest.
period to which his memory extended, the clergy habitually
¦wore their cassock, gown, and shovel hat, and that when this
custom went out, a sort of interregnum ensued during which
all distinction of dress was abandoned and clerics followed
lay fashions. This is the period which Jane Austen's novels
illustrate. Her clergymen are singularly free from any trace
of the ecclesiastical character. Later on, the clergy adopted
the suit of black, and the white necktie, which had all along
been the dress of professional men, lawyers, doctors, architects,
and even surveyors, of men, in short, whose business it was to
advise. Of the modern developements which this lay-pro
fessional dress has received at the hands of clerical tailors, it
is unnecessary to say anything. — Ed.

chap. i.J Recollections. 29.
case with the barber at Great Risborough. He
Avas a pious man, and he walked over every sun-
day to hear my grandfather preach, and a place
was kept for him at the dinner- table. He was,
hoAvever, a superior man, and he had the good
fortune to get his two sons into the church.
Some time after he had settled at Risborough he
found that there was an old bequest for the educa
tion (for the church) of any one of his name living
at Risborough, which he at once claimed and
obtained for his son. The other boy, having a
good voice, was placed in the choir at Magdalen
college, Oxford, when in due time he was admitted
into the college, and finally into the church.
Near Aston lived my uncle, the Rev. Samuel
King. He was son of an excellent man, George
King, a large wine merchant in the city ; and
being a pupil of my grandfather's, he formed an
attachment to his only daughter Elizabeth, and
married her before or during his residence at the
university of Cambridge. After they left Cam
bridge, he took the curacy of Hartwell, near
Aylesbury, Avhere was the seat of Sir George Lee,
at that time occupied by Louis XVIII. and the
ex-royal family of France. Subsequently, or at
the same time, he was curate of Stone, close by
Hartwell, Avhere I first recollect visiting him, after
which he removed to Haddenham, nearer to my
grandfather's, so that our visits were jointly to my
grandfather and to him. My aunt was a gifted
and lovely woman, and at ¦ that time she used
to aid my grandfather in the correction of a
new edition of his commentary, as did also a
young man who then resided Avith him, Mr.

30 Sir Gilbert Scott.
W. R. Dawes, since well known as an astronomer,
and who in his old age returned to Haddenham
and built himself a residence there. I Avell re
member my puzzlement at hearing that certain
printed sheets, AA'hich came every morning by post,
and seemed to be vieAved Avith great consideration,
were " proofs of the bible." I connected them in
idea with the evidences of Christianity.
The Avhole household of my grandfather seemed
imbued Avith religious sentiment. Old Betty, the
cook, and Lizzy, the Avai ting-maid, and old Betty
Moulder, an infirm inmate, taken in. on account of
her excellence and helplessness, were all patterns
of goodness, and even poor John BrangAvin, the
serving-man, partook of the general effect of the
atmosphere of the rectory. Poor old fellow ! I
visited him last spring, with three of my sons at .
an almshouse at Cheynies, when he poured forth
his recollections of my grandfather for half an
hour together. It Avas Sunday, and we found him
reading in the copy of the commentary which my
grandfather had left him in his will ; ¦ and he told
us he had just had a cold dinner. " He never
had anything cooked o' sabbath day ; Muster
Scott never had anything cooked o' sabbath
days "—a precept he had followed for more than
forty years. I regret that my recollections of my
grandfather himself are so very scanty, while my
memory of the place, and. of its less important
inhabitants, and of its trifling incidents, is as
perfect as though it were of last year.
Some five miles beyond Aston Sandford runs
the range of the Chiltern Hills, the "delectable
mountains" of my youth, always forming our

chap. i.J Recollections. 31
horizon, though very rarely reached by us. They
divided the county into two parts, as different as
possible in their character; the northern, where
we lived, homely and picturesque, the southern
hilly and delightful. Once only in these early
days I saAV this beautiful part of my county, when
I went to visit my aunt (the Avidow of the Rev. N.
Gilbert), at Woburn, near Wycombe, and I well
remember the pleasure I experienced. I re
member our all Avalking up Stokenchurch hill, a
coach-load of passengers forming a long procession
before us.
After my grandfather's death my uncle King
Avas presented to the living of Larimers, in this
southern division of Bucks, our visits to which
place were the brightest spots in my early life.
My uncle was a most lively and amusing man,
Avho, having no family of his own, devoted him
self, when thrown in the way of children, very
extensively to their amusement. He Avas a man
of multifarious resources, an excellent astrono
mer, and perhaps the best amateur ornamental
turner in the kingdom. Pie was a glass-painter,
a brass-founder, and a devotee to natural science
in many forms. My aunt was a literary person.
She had received the same education with her
brothers, instead of learning feminine accomplish
ments. She Avas one of those " ladies of talent "
one occasionally meets with, whose company is
courted on account of their superior knowledge
and conversational powers. I have every reason
for gratitude to them both, as I shall afterwards
show. My maternal grandmother and her sister, (as

32 Sir Gilbert Scott.
before-mentioned) lived Avith us at Gawcott. The
former Avas a very excellent, quiet, unobtrusive
little Avoman. I rarely heard anything of her
husband, Dr. Lynch. He died early, leaving her
with a young family, and I fancy but slenderly
provided for, for the only thing I ever heard of
him Avas, that he impoverished himself by being
so easy-going, that he could not refuse any one
Avho asked money of him. His eldest son was,
during my childhood, a medical man at Dunmow
in Essex, Avhere he also died early, leaving a large
family. My aunt Gilbert had accompanied my
grandmother and her family to England, or possi
bly AA'as here already, as her English recollections
reached to a much earlier date. This must have
been about 1790, as nearly as I can tell, my
mother being at that time about four years old.
They resided in Great Ormond street, Queen's
square, Avhich then bordered upon the fields.
My aunt was a person of considerable talent,
of great piety, and of an extraordinarily affec
tionate disposition, and withal wonderfully simple-
hearted and forbearing. She devoted herself to
my mother during her childhood, Avith an intensity
of affection, exceeding probably what a child would
always find agreeable.
She and my grandmother were provided for by
annuities upon their father's estate, then pretty
good, but ever diminishing with the decline of
West India property. My mother went to a
very good school (I think in London) kept by a
Miss Cox, Avho Avas aftenvards married to a
Mr. Woodroffe, a clergyman in Gloucestershire,
and my mother always kept up an affectionate

chap. i.J Recollections. 33
correspondence with her, and they mutually visited
from time to time. She was author of a reli
gious novel entitled, " Shades of Character, or the
Little Pilgrim," and of" Michael Kemp." When
my mother married, my aunt came to live Avith
her (my grandmother living for a time near her
son at DunmoAv). When I made my appearance
on the tapis, my aunt pitched upon my unAvorthy
person as her pet, and ever afterwards followed me
up with an assiduity of affection Avhich it is impos
sible to exaggerate. This was probably enhanced
(though my conduct was not calculated to produce
that effect) by her having had the charge of me,
when five years old, for some months, while I made
a stay on account of some casual disorder at
Margate. This was in 18 16, and as it was the
landmark of my childhood, I will give a few
reminiscences of it.
Of the coach journey to London, I have hardly a
glimmer of recollection. On our arrival, however,
Ave transferred ourselves to the house of a sort of
" Gaius mine host," who dwelt hard by the coach-
office where Ave alighted. This was a Mr.
Broughton, of Swan-yard, Holborn bridge, who
kept a boarding-house for travellers, Avith a pre
ference for those of the evangelical party, and a
still more particular preference for missionaries,
and most especially for missionaries to NeAV Zea
land. This, his most powerful preference, AA-as
rendered manifest to the eye by his rooms
being hung Avith patoo-patoos, war-rugs, and
all the marvels of a NeAV Zealand museum ;
and occasionally a tattooed chief or tAvo, to
his intense joy, ,took up their, quarters under
D

-,a Sir Gilbert Scott.
his roof. All this, however, I gathered at
subsequent visits.
Mr. Broughton showed his special regard for
the commentator, my grandfather, by opening his
house to his descendants at all times gratuitously
— indeed he demanded their acceptance of his
hospitality as a right. Swan-yard, which has
perished in the extension of Farringdon street,
Avas opposite to the then Fleet market. It was a
waggon-yard, devoted to broad-Avheeled waggpns.
and straAv, and the house was far from lively. At
the time of our visit Mrs. Broughton, Avho Avas
enormously corpulent, was laid up with the gout,
and I Avas forthwith conducted by my aunt to the
good lady's bedroom. Here I was so terrified at
the sight of her vast person, enveloped in volumes
of dimity, and her legs swaddled in a stupendous
gouty stocking of white-and-pink lamb's wool,
that I at once proclaimed a mutiny, and refused
to stop in the house, in which I so resolutely per
sisted, that my good aunt actually yielded to me,
and transferred me to the cabin of the Margate
sailing-packet, which Avas to start in the morning.
Here v/e met a number of Buckingham friends,
who Avere to join us in our lodgings at Margate.
My impression of the cabin is very vivid. It was
full of passengers, and I well recollect a lively and
lengthened argument, in which my aunt Avas a
Avarm disputant, as to whether in dealing with
savages Ave ought to aim at civilizing before chris
tianizing or vice versa, a point on which the cabin
Avas. about equally divided. As the night drew
on, the ladies and children retired to the berths
which lined the sides, while the gentlemen retained

chap. i.J Recollections.

35

their chairs. I Avell recollect peeping out from
betAveen my curtains, and seeing gentlemen, who
had lately been Avarm in argument, sitting quietly
asleep round tables, on which their heads and
elboAvs were deposited.
Of the next day my leading recollection is the
sweeping of the boom across the deck as we
tacked, and the havoc it always threatened
amongst the croAvded passengers. Arrived at
Margate we took lodgings on "the Fort," at the
house of one, Captain Bourne ; my aunt arid I,
and our Buckinghamshire friends all living to
gether as one family. There was already a
steamer to Margate ; but it Avas such a new thing
that the visitors and inhabitants crowded to the
pier to see it come in. I well remember the ex
citement of seeing its approach. One of my most
vivid recollections of Margate was our going with
some of our friends to a Quakers' meeting at a
place called Drapers, and hearing several ladies
preach. I also recollect seeing a fleet of thirty-
two East Indiamen pass in a row, probably under
convoy, as the Avar was but recently over. While
at Margate I lost an infant sister named Elizabeth.
After leaving Margate we visited my uncle
Lynch at DunmoAv, and. in passing through Lon
don, my aunt stayed with an old Wesleyan friend,
Mr. Jones, of Finsbury square. I remember
their shoAving me, from his windows, gas-lamps
as great curiosities. We also went to see another
Miss Gilbert, a cousin of my aunt's, (we called
her " Cousin Harriet.") She was a wild, eccentric
person, and Avhile Ave were there, went into a fright
ful fit of hysterics, owing to her having visited
r> 2

36 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the grave of a near relation, who had been her
sole companion. I have preserved two coins
Avhich this old cousin gave me that day. I will
not, however, increase frivolous reminiscences. It
is vexatious to think of the perversity of children's
memories. I recollect the funeral of Mr. West in
1 8 14, and this digression from my village home
in 1 8 16, as well almost as if they had happened
last year. Yet of the battle of Waterloo, which
occurred in the intervening year, I have not even
the slightest recollection.
My aunt Gilbert was most interesting in her
reminiscences. John Wesley was the great saint
of her memory. I remember her telling me
of his having kissed her, which she esteemed a
great privilege. She had been an intimate ally
of Mrs. Fletcher of Madeley, who, after her
husband's death, became a sort of female evan
gelist "All round the Wrekin." This hill was
familiar to my childish ideas from my aunt having
lived so long under its shadow. The date of this
I knoAv not, but it Avas during the days of Mrs.
Fletcher and of Lady Dorothea Whitmore. Who
the latter was, I do not knoAv, but the family I
find still resides in the neighbourhood. One of
my aunt's sisters had married a Mr. Yate of
Madeley. Her son, the Rev. George Yate, was
rector of Wrockwardine. I remember another
son, a naval officer, bringing to Gawcott a flag
Avhich he had taken in the American war ; and a
daughter, Anne Yate, used to visit us, (by the way
it was she who took me to Mr. West's funeral).
She died of consumption some few years later,
" poor cousin Anne."

uiai\ I.] Recollections. 37
My aunt kept up a very extensive correspon
dence, and had done so all her life. One of her
great correspondents was her brother William,
who lived in America. His was a very re
markable character. He was a barrister, and a
man of acute genius, and was just rising into
fame when his mind gave way. His insanity
took a political line, and, the first rage of the
French Revolution being rampant at the time, he
went to France to ally himself Avith Robespierre
and the rest, but took fright, I fancy, when, he
got nearer, and returned. He subsequently went
to America, as the only country Avith the govern
ment of which he could feel satisfied. He was a
friend of Southey and Coleridge during their early
clays. Southey remarks of him in his life of
Wesley .»".... Mr. Gilbert published, in the
year 1 796, * The Hurricane, a Theosophical and
Western Eclogue,* and shortly afterwards pla
carded the walls in London with the largest bills
that had at that time been seen, announcing ' The
Law of Fire.* I knew him well, and look back
with a melancholy pleasure to the hours which I
have passed in his society when his mind was in
ruins. His madness Avas of the most incom
prehensible kind, as may be seen in the notes
to the •Hurricane;' but the poem contains pas
sages of exquisite beauty. They who remember
him (as some of my readers will) will not be
displeased at seeing him thus mentioned Avith the
respect and regret which are due to the wreck
of a noble mind."
Another constant correspondent was a cousin.
• Vol. ii chap. aS, foot note.

38 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Poor man, he corresponded till the last, and then
came the neAvs that he had shot himself. I re
member one of my aunt's last letters to him,
Avhich was evidently intended to keep him from
religious despair, for she quoted the passage :
" Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be
Avhite as snoAV," &c. Let us hope that he was
insane. Another correspondent was a Lady
Abdy, also a cousin.
My aunt's object In all these cases Avas a
religious one, this being the main subject of her
thoughts. My aunt was a poetess, she wrote a
good deal, and not badly. She was in great
requisition for epitaphs, &c. I wish I could get
some of her longer productions. She was an
admirable Avoman, and in my vieAv quite an his
torical person. She had a large chest filled Avith
selected letters from her correspondents, from
John Wesley doAvmvards ; but this most valuable
collection was indiscriminately destroyed after
her death, which happened I think in 1832. A
grievous error! She lies buried a little to the
south of the church of Gawcott. My grand
mother lived a few years longer, and was buried
at Wappenham. Both were, eighty or upwards
at their death. Stowe.
We lived Avithin about four miles of Stowe, then
in its greatest glory. The Marquis (aftenvards
Duke) of Buckingham was the puissant potentate
of the district, and Stowe was its seat of govern
ment. It was to us of great advantage, to have
this centre of art and princely splendour to refer
to Avhen we pleased. It was a set-off against the

chap. i.J Recollections. 39
othenvlse almost unmitigated rusticity of the
neighbourhood. To StOAve we all made an annual pilgrimage.
This Avas the great day of our year. It took place
in early June, that Ave might enjoy the glories of the
lilacs and laburnums. The journey was somewhat
grotesque. My father rode his Old horse " Jack,"
or subsequently "Tripod." The older boys walked,
Avhile my mother, my eldest sister, and the children
performed the journey in the baker's cart, a tilted
but unspringed vehicle, furnished with chairs for
the occasion, and further with a large basket
of provisions Avhich Avere conveyed by our serving-
man William to " The Temple of Concord and
Victory," our traditional lunching place. I Avell
recollect the gratification afforded by the hard-
boiled eggs, &c, eaten beneath the unwonted
shade of a classic temple.
Stowe was really a very fine place. It was
most extensive and well wooded; indeed the
park Avith its Avoods merged gradually off into
the forest of Whtttlebury. It Avas approached
from Buckingham by a perfectly straight road
some three miles long, and bordered by a wide
grass drive and an avenue on either side, and
leading to a triumphal arch known as the " Corin
thian Arch." From several other directions it
was someAvhat similarly approached, so that from
the Buckingham lodges to those in the direction
of Towcester could hardly be less than eight
miles. The house had (and has) a frontage of
nearly 1000 feet, though it is fair to mention that
¦ its extreme Avings hardly form a part of its archi
tecture. It is entered, properly speaking, from

40 Sir Gilbert Scott.
behind, Avhere it assumes the form of a convex
semicircle. To us, however, the approach Avas
from the garden front, Avhich is the great archi
tectural facade and looks south. Here the en
trance is by an octastyle Corinthian portico, ap
proached by a lofty flight of steps rising the height
of a basement storey. I well remember the kind
of aAve with Which this stately approach inspired
me, and how vast it appeared to my young ima
gination. We Avere welcomed under the portico
by an almost equally stately groOm of the cham
bers, Mr. Broad Avay, a man of portentous aspect
and intense dignity of demeanour. He paid
special attention to us from his respect for my
father, and devoted much pains to shoAving and
explaining the pictures, &c. I can fancy that
I hear now the dignified and measured Avords in
Avhich he introduced the pictures to our youthful
inspection : " The Burgomeister Sichs, by Rem
brandt;" "The portrait of the elder, by the younger
Rembrandt," &c. His tone gave us a reverence
for the old masters beyond what our discrimina
tion Avould have alone inspired. It Avas really a
very fine collection, and being the only one I had
seen, I feel thankful to think that I had the
opportunity through it of seeing noble art so
early. The sculpture Avas also fine, containing
a great number of antiques, which were mostly
ranged round a large elliptical saloon, entered
directly from the garden portico. My veneration
Avas greatly enhanced by the fact that one vast
room Avas Avholly devoted to the collection of
engravings, classified in an infinite number of
portfolios, and another to similarly-arranged music,

chap. i.J Recollections. 41
and that the library Avas so extensive as to demand
the services Of a man of learning and position (a
dignified Roman Catholic priest, Dr. O'Connor) as
the librarian. One modern picture, the " Destruc
tion of Herculaneum " (by Martin), used to fill us
Avith Avonder, as did a magnificent astronomical
clock, giving the true motions and positions of
the planets, and only Avound up, as we were told,
once in four years, i. e. on the 29th of February.
The house was in point of fact a " palace of
delights," a Avildemess of art, vertu, and magnifi
cence, of Avhich upon the whole I have not seen
an equal, and it is beyond measure aggravating to
think of its glorious contents having been dis
persed through the folly of its possessor.
The duke of my childhood was the grandfather
to the present one. He was a man of consider
able ability and attainments and of portentous
ambition and pride. I believe that the doAvnfall
of-the family was fully as much owing to him as
to his son. He literally came under the woe
pronounced upon those "that lay field to field,
till there be no place, that they may be placed
alone in the midst of the earth," for he nearly
ruined the family by purchasing estates with
borrowed money, the interest on which exceeded
the rental.
We made, by-the-bye, tAvo annual peregrinations
thither, for once a year we went over to the
review of the yeomanry cavalry, of which the
Marquis of Chandos (the late Duke) was lieu
tenant-colonel. It makes me feel very antique
to remember that I was present at the festivities
Avhich celebrated the baptism of the present duke,

42 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and very magnificent they were. The fireAvorks
Avere, I suppose, as fine as that time could produce;
I recollect on that day, Avhile sitting on a bench
so placed as to overlook a very large piece of
Avater surrounded by beech plantations, hearing
the remarks of two old women. " Lawk, how
unkid," said one, "you can see nothin' but water !"
" Oh, bless you," replied her more knoAving com
panion, " Avhy, the sea's tAvice as big as that."
Of the architecture of StoAve I cannot say much
from memory, nor is it necessary, as it remains, I
believe, intact.
As StOAve Avas my introduction to classic archi
tecture and high art, so was my liking for gothic
architecture due to the old churches in my own
neighbourhood. The district is not famed for its
ancient churches, yet it possesses several of con
siderable merit. Our own village was utterly
devoid of early remains, though I venerated the
old " Chapel Close," where its ancient church or
chapel had once stood. In the same way
Buckingham had lost its old church, a very fine
edifice, which fell in 1776. My draAving-master,
Mr, Jones, remembered its fall, and told me that
it had an aisle called the Gavvcott Aisle. The
old churchyard remains, though the church now
stands on the Castle Hill, and a very ungainly
edifice it is.1 There is only one really ancient
building in Buckingham, the chapel of St. Thomas
of Canterbury, noAv a grammar school.
The building Avhich first directed my attention
to gothic architecture was the church of Hillesden,
1 Its reconstruction, under my father's direction, was in
progress at the time of his death. -^Ed.

chap. i.J Recollections. 43
situated two miles to the south of Gawcott. This
is a church of late date, but of remarkable beauty.
It Avas our great lion, and every new comer was
taken to see it on the earliest possible opportunity,
and was appraised by me in proportion to his
appreciation of its beauties.
I always looked upon Plillesden with the most
romantic feelings. It was a beautiful spot as
compared with our neighbourhood in general ;
it was situated on a considerable elevation, sur-
, rounded by fine old plantations and avenues of
lofty trees conspicuous throughout the district.
Near the church stood the " Great House," a
deserted mansion of the time, I believe, of Charles
II. The place had, from early in the loth century,
belonged to the family of Denton. They were
staunch Royalists, and had suffered severely during
the Great Rebellion. We used to be told that
Sir Alexander Denton, the then proprietor, after
a vigorous defence of his mansion, Avas taken
prisoner, and after being conducted for some
distance from his home, Avas made to look back to ¦
see his residence in flames. Fie died in prison.
The family in the direct line had become extinct,
and its last member, having married Mr. Coke of
Holkham, became the mother of the celebrated
Mr. Thomas William Coke, afterwards Earl of
Leicester. He was the proprietor of Hillesden
in my early days, and I recollect going to the
house of a farmer whose wife boasted that they
had been playfelloAvs when children. The house
had been much reduced in size, but Avhat re
mained, though uninhabited, retained its old furni
ture. I particularly remember the bedrooms, the

44 Sir Gilbert Scott.
beds being placed in odd recesses between tAvo
closets partitioned off on either side, through
which you Avould have to pass, to get into bed, by
doors in their sides. The grounds still retained
their old form Avith terraces and a large fish-pond.
There Avere also the stables, of earlier date, proba
bly of EdAvard the Sixth's time, and a rather ele
gant octagonal dove-cote of brick. Mr. Coke had
repeatedly refused to sell the Hillesden estate to
the Duke of Buckingham, but at length it Avas
purchased by Mr. Farquhar of Font Hill, Avho
immediately afterwards sold it to the duke. This
was a sorrowful event to me, as the duke was in
my eyes the great enemy of local history. He
soon destroyed the old house, and carried off the
curious old sentry-box, in the form of a brick gate-
pier, to Stowe, Avhile timber began to disappear,
and keepers destroyed the liberty of the woods,
and the little glory Avhich had remained departed.
The church, however, was there after all, and
to it I made my frequent pilgrimages, and a little
later dear old Mr. Jones used to meet me there
to teach me how to sketch. These were, perhaps,
the happiest occasions of my youth, and I look
back upon them noAv with a glow of delight.
Hillesden Church is, as I have said of late date.
The tower is humbler in its pretensions than the
rest of the church, and is of rather early and simple
" perpendicular " Avork. The church itself Avas
begun in 1493, by the monks of Nutley, to Avhom
the rectorial , tithes belonged. It is a very ex
quisite specimen of this latest phase of Gothic
architecture, and possesses all the refinement of
its best examples, such as the royal chapels at

chap. i.J Recollections. 45
Westminster and Windsor. Indeed, I have seen
no detail of that period to surpass those of this
church. In plan it consists of a nave with aisles
and quasi-transepts, a large chancel with north
aisle, a sacristy of two stories at the north-east
angle of the chancel aisle, the upper story of
which is approached by a very large neAvel stair
at the extreme north-eastern angle. This stair-
turret is a very exquisite and striking feature,
being finished with a sort of crown of flying
buttresses and pinnacles, of which I have seen
no other instance, indeed it is one of the most
beautifully-designed features I know.8 The upper
sacristy has a series of radiating loop-holes look
ing into the church. The walls of the chancel
are ornamented by stone panelling. The ceilings
throughout had panels of plaster, with wood
mouldings. I have since seen some which had
unhappily been taken down, and found the plaster
to be in thick and very hard slabs, on which Avere
set out curious geometric figures, drawn with the
compasses, as if to form the guides for painted
decorations. The rood screen Avas perfect, and of
exquisite beauty. The fittings Avere nearly all of
the original date, and very good, though, of course,
of very late character. The chief exception Avas
the great square pew of the Dentons, a somewhat
dignified work of Charles the Second's reign,
furnished Avith great high-backed chairs.
The monuments of the Dentons were, of course,
of very varied, date, from Edward the Sixth's time,
or thereabouts, dowmvards. There is, by the way,
2 Its design was reproduced by my father in the angle turret
of the new buildings at King's College, Cambridge.— Ed.

46 Sir Gilbert Scott.
a fine monument to one of the earliest of the
family (after Hillesden had come into their hands)
in Hereford Cathedral, Avhich I have lately had
the pleasure of reinstating, after it had been lying-
in pieces for tAventy years.3 The north porch is a
very charming structure, of exquisite design and
finish. The churchyard cross appears to be of
the fourteenth century. I greatly hope to have a
hand in the restoration of the church to which I owe
so much as my initiator into Gothic architecture.4
I fear it is in a very damaged state. I should men
tion the remains of painted glass which it contains.
They are beautiful fragments, in the style of
those in King's College chapel, though more deli
cate in finish. The principal remains illustrate
the life of the patron, St. Nicholas. In other
windoAVS, Avhere most of the glass Is gone, frag
ments remain in the heads, containing charming
representations of mediaeval cities, such as one
sees in the background of Van Eyck's pictures.
I recollect my father Avriting to the Duke of
Buckingham to urge his repairing this church.
The result- Avas that his Grace Avhitewashed the
exterior of the toAver !
Maids Morton church, the second in rank in
our district, is also of "perpendicular" date, but
earlier. Its toAver is of admirable and unique
design. It, at that time, retained its old seats,
with fleur-de-lis poppy-heads; also a beautiful
stoup by the doorway, all Avhich have since been
ruthlessly destroyed.
Tingewick Church Avas the nearest to Gawcott
3 Cf. infra, p. 294.
1 This wish was realized in 1874 and 1875. — Ed.

chap. i.J Recollections.

47

of our mediaeval structures.. It was a good church,
containing norman arcades and a feAV fragments in
the south wall of the same date ; the rest, I think,
all " perpendicular." The tower Avas attributed
to William of Wykeham. It has since undergone
strange transmogrifications. The south wall has
been rebuilt, I think, twice, and much good and
interesting old Avork destroyed. My father, at
different times, took the curacies of Hillesden and
Tingewick in combination with GaAvcott.
The only other church I Avill mention as con
nected with my youthful days is Chetwood. I
was never more astonished than Avhen I first saAv
this church, never having before seen or heard of
" early english " architecture. It is a fragment of
a small monastic church, and its east AvindoAV con
sists of five noble lancets, with, externally, plain
but bold detail. On either side are fine triplets.
Never having before seen such Avindows, I Avas
greatly perplexed at them, and, failing to get the
key, and being reduced to peeping through the
keyhole of the west door, I Avas astonished and
puzzled to find that the east windoAvs had shafts
with foliated capitals, a thing I had never seen
and could not understand. I remember continuing
all day in a state of morbid excitement on the
subject, and having no access to architectural
books, it Avas very long ere I solved the mystery.
My taking in this Avay to old churches first led
my father to think of my becoming an architect,
and, after consulting Avith my uncle King on the
subject, this became a fixed arrangement. I was
then about fourteen years old, and shortly after
wards my uncle very kindly offered to take me

48 Sir Gilbert Scott.
under his OAvn charge, and to superintend me in
studies having a tendency in that direction. I
accordingly took up my residence at Latimer's, in
1S26. I had, two years before, made a trip to
London, Avhere my eyes Avere opened -to much
Avhich I had never thought of before. West
minster Abbey, I need not say, I was charmed
with ; it was the only gothic minster I had seen ;
nor did I see any other, excepting St. Albans and
Ely, till after my articles had expired, in 1830!
I recollect that when I saw Westminster Abbey,
in 1824, they were putting up the present reredos,
or rather " restoring" in " artificial stone" the old
one.5 My uncle's instruction Avas mainly in mathe
matics ; he carried me on through trigonometry
and mechanics, in Avhich I took great pleasure.
He also gave me direct instruction in architecture,
of Avhich he possessed a very fair knowledge. I
Avas by him initiated into classic architecture, both
Greek and Roman ; and a friend of his (the Rev.
II . Foyster), who had been once intended for our
profession, having lent me a copy of Sir William
Chambers' Avork, and some one else a portion of
Stewart's Athens, I Avas able to follow up architec
tural drawing, as then taught, pretty systematically,
and by the time I was articled I had already been
put through my facings to a certain reasonable
extent. I think 1 also had access to Rickman, as I
certainly got to know the ordinary facts as to the
different periods of mediaeval architecture. The
only treatise I had before seen ou this subject had
6 This was restored anew in alabaster and marble in 1866.—
Ed.

chap, i.] Recollections. 49
been an article in the Edinburgh Encyclop&dia, of
which I remember little but the illustrations, more
especially a west elevation of Rheims Cathedral,
in which I took, when quite a child, the greatest
delight. I stayed, I suppose, with my uncle about
a twelvemonth, on and off. Though a someAvhat
solitary life, it Avas one of very great pleasure and
enjoyment. The country there is peculiarly
charming, and so wholly different from my OAvn
home as to be like a new world. My love of
woodland was here transferred from oak-woods,
choked up with hazel and blackthorn, to beech-
woOds, through which you may wander without
obstruction. The very wild-flowers and wild
fruits were different, while the search for chalce
donies and fossils, among the flints with Avhich the
woods Avere bestrewed, afforded amusement to my
solitary Wanderings and pleasure in showing upon
my return what I had found. My uncle was a
man of infinite resources. Turning, carried to a
perfection probably never surpassed, mechanical
pursuits of other kinds, practical astronomy and
other branches of science, occupied his leisure
hours, while his conversation Avas always lively
and instructive. My aunt, too, Avas a person of
great talent and attainments ; and they had occa
sionally at their table persons of extensive infor
mation, while they themselves visited at the aris
tocratic houses of the neighbourhood, and their
company was sought after, as of persons of talent
and varied information.
The twin villages of Isenhampstead Latimers
and Isenhampstead Cheynies (commonly called
Latimers and Cheynies) are situated within a mile

50 Sir Gilbert Scott.
of one another, and are rivals in beauty of situa
tion. They both overlook the charming valley of
the little Chiltern trout-stream, the " Chess," which
rises five miles off, at Chesham, and falls into the
Colne, near Watford. This little valley is not
much knoAvn to the Avorld at large-, though of
exquisite beauty, and now, or formerly, containing
the dAvelling-places of some noble families. Chey
nies Avas the old residence of the family of
Cheyney, and later of the Russells, whose original
seat there is still in existence (though now but
a farmhouse), and whose mortal remains are still
brought here from the more lordly abbey of
Woburn, and here deposited in their final resting-
place. Latimers (now, by the dictum of its pro
prietor, called Latimer) is one of the residences of
the Cavendish family. It belonged, at the time
I am speaking of, to old Lord George Cavendish,
aftenvards created Earl of Burlington. He was
brother to a former Duke of Devonshire, uncle to
the then duke, and grandfather of the present
duke. Fie was a noted patron of " the turf," and
had another seat at Holkar in Furness. His
eldest son, the father of the present duke, was
dead, and his next son, Mr. Charles Cavendish
(the late Lord Chesham) Avas the expectant heir
of Latimers.
The two " great houses " Avere both probably
of the age of Henry VII. or Henry VIII.
(Latimers perhaps a little later), and both were
chiefly famous for their chimneys. Latimers had
been spoiled in the Strawberry Hill style, Avith
the exception of its beautiful stacks of tall octa
gonal chimney-shafts, in charming proportions

chap. i.J Recollections. 51
and profile, but all alike. Cheynies had been so
dismantled that its chief glory was also in these
its upper regions, but unlike those at Latimers they
were nearly all different in design, the shafts being
decorated with varied and admirably executed
pattern-AVork in brick.
Both still remain, though those at Cheynies
have their caps reconstructed and spoiled. The
house at Latimers has been rebuilt by Blore all
but its chimneys. Latimers is charmingly situated,
and I think my uncle's rectory was even better
placed than the great house. The church was
modern and vile, but the village which was in
two parts, one on the hill and the other below,
was very picturesque, with old timber houses,
and a glorious old elm tree of towering height
on the- little green. The upper village is now
destroyed, and the whole merged into the
"grounds," perhaps to the increase of the beauty,
but certainly to the diminution of the interest
of the place. Latimers is a sort of hamlet of the
little town of Chesham, five miles up the valley,
where my brother John (now Rector of Tyd St.
Giles' in Cambridgeshire,6) was at the. time articled
to a medical man, Mr. Rumsey. This was an
increase to my happiness, as I could occasionally
Avalk over and see him. My recollection of the
whole district is as of a little paradise. The hills,
valley, river, trees, flowers, fruits, fossils, &c, all
seem encircled in a kind of imaginary halo. I
fancy I never saw such wild flowers or ate such
cherries or such trout as there. There I ter-
6 Since preferred to the living of Wisbech and to an honorary
canonry of Ely.
E 2

52 Sir Gilbert Scott.
minated my childhood, and thence I emerged into
the wide world, in the prosaic turmoil of which
I have ever since been immersed.
Here, then, let me bid good-bye to my childish
years, strange, half-mythic days, full of quaint,
rough interest, full of faults and regrets, yet of
pleasure, of thankfulness, and of affection. Oh!
that I had availed myself of the many privileges
of those my early days, of their religious oppor
tunities, and of their means of intellectual im
provement ! But regrets are unavailing. Let me
rather thank God for my pious and excellent
parents and for the many blessings of my life,
and crave His forgiveness for my negligence and
shortcomings.

CHAPTER II.
While I Avas under the direction and tuition of
my uncle King, he and his father, Thomas King
of London, Avere on the look-out for an architect
to Avhom to article me. It Avas a sine-qmi-tion
that he should be a religious man, and it was
necessary that his terms should be moderate.
They happened to inquire of Mr. Charles Dudley,
travelling agent to the Bible Society, who, after
telling them that there Avas scarcely a religious
architect in London, recommended Mr. Edmes-
ton, better knoAvn as a poet than as an architect,
and it was finally settled that I Avas to go to him
on or about Lady Day, 1827.
About this time I may mention, by the way,
that old John West's church had shown signs of
falling to pieces, and my father, after the first
perplexity was over, set vigorously to work to
raise subscriptions for rebuilding it. He was
A\fonderfully supported by religious friends in all
parts of the country, and raised, I think, 1400/., or
1500/. Among the large subscribers I recollect Mr.
Broadley Wilson, Mr. Joseph Wilson, and Mr.
Deacon, all men of note in the city, also Mrs.
Lawrence, of Studley Park, Yorkshire. It was

54 Sir Gilbert Scott.
unlucky that the rebuilding of the church should
have been necessary at perhaps the darkest
period, or nearly so, .of church architecture
(though not quite so bad as that of old Mr. West,
to be sure).
My father Avas again his OAvn architect, made
his 0Avn Avorking drawings, and contracted with
his builder' at Buckingham, Mr. Willmore. I
cannot say much about either design or execu
tion ; but these Avere days to. be winked at, as no
one kneAv anything whatever of the subject. It
did, hoAvever, exceed the old church, in having a
Avestern tower and an eastern apse, and is more
reasonable in arrangement, though not much
more ecclesiastical,
I often wish Ave had it now to build. I
recollect one day, when its foundations Avere
being put in, our friend Mr. Thomas Bartlett
coming to see the work, and my father telling
him that he Avas about to place me Avith an
architect; Mr. Bartlett congratulated me upon it,
and added, " I have no doubt you will rise to the
head of your profession," when my father at once
replied, "Oh no, his abilities are not sufficient
for that." I hardly kneAv which to believe. It
Avould have been conceited to hold with the
one, but I could not quite knock under to the
other. The neAv. church was commenced, I fancy,
when I Avas living at Latimers, but I saAv a little
of the work at intervals. It was my first
initiation into practical building, though the
lessons learned were not of the best, as Mr. Will-
more was far from being a good builder. It was

chap, n.] Recollections. 55
built of the rough bluish limestone of our GaAv-
cottPits, Avith dressings of a freestone from Cos-
grove, near Stoney Stratford.
During my stay at home before leaving for
London, my brother Melville was born, just
twenty years after the birth of my oldest brother,
who was then, at Cambridge.
My father took me to London and placed me
with Mr. Edmeston, with whom I lived at his
house at Homerton, his office being at Salvador
House, in Bishopsgate Street. The first remark
of my neAv master which I recollect was to the
effect, that the cost of gothic architecture Avas so
great as to be almost prohibitory; that he had
tried it once at a dissenting chapel he had built at
Leytonstone, and that the very cementing of the
exterior had amounted to a sum which he named
with evident dismay.
I had no idea beforehand of the line of practice
folloAved by my future initiator into the mysteries
of my profession ; I went to him Avith a mythic
veneration for his supposed skill and for his
imaginary works, though without an idea of what
they might be. The morning after I was de
posited at his house, he invited me to walk out
and see some of his works — Avhen — oh, horrors !
the bubble burst, and the fond dream of my
youthful imagination was realized in the form
of a feAv second-rate brick houses, Avith cemented
porticoes of two ungainly columns each ! I shall
never forget the sudden letting doAvn of my aspi
rations.- A somewhat romantic youth, assigned
to follow the noble art of "architecture for the love
he had formed for it from the ancient churches

56 Sir Gilbert Scott.
of his neighbourhood, condemned to indulge his
taste by building houses at Hackney in the debased
style of 1827! I am not sure, however, that I
Avas any very serious loser from this. Mr.
Edmeston's practice Avas a mere blank-sheet as to
matters of taste, and left me quite open to indulge
in private my old preferences, or to choose in
future what course I pleased.
I learned, too, in his office a great deal which
I mio-ht have missed in a better one. I learned
o
all the common routine of building, specifying, &c,
so far as was practised by him, and I had a good
deal of time for reading and drawing on my own
account. Still, however, I confess it had a lower
ing and deadening effect, and it failed to inspire
me Avith that high artistic sentiment which ought
to be impressed upon the mind of every young
architect. Mr. and Mrs. Edmeston were very kindly per
sons, and as they had a good library, which was
my evening sitting-room, I had excellent oppor
tunities of that kind for self-improvement, and I
think I took very fair advantage of them. I read
much and dreAV much, made myself acquainted
with classic architecture from books, such as
Stewart's " Athens," the works of the Dilettante
society, Vitruvius, &c., and with gothic, so far
as the scanty means went. I thoroughly taught
myself perspective in one fortnight, from Joshua
Kirby, so much so that I have never had to look
at a book on it again ; indeed, I used to set myself
the most difficult problems, and invent new
Avays of solving them. . I had liberal holidays at
midsummer and christmas, when I Avent home, to

'£hap. ii.] Recollections. 57
my intense delight. In my summer holidays, I
devoted most of my time to measuring and
sketching at Hillesden, Maid's Morton, &c, and
on my return I. devoted my evenings for a long
time to making draAvings of what I had measured,
most elaborately tinting them in Indian ink, which
was sponged nearly out twice over, according to
the custom of the day. I remember indulging my
rural yearnings, by designing a farm-yard and its
buildings in true rustic style. I think it was on
this occasion that Mr. Edmeston wrote seriously
to my father, Avarning him that I was employ
ing my leisure hours on matters which could
never by any possibility be of any practical use
to me.
I had at first only one fellow-pupil,, one Enoch
Hodgkinson Springbett. He was a very good
sort of fellow, but without an aspiration beyond
the class of practice he had been trained to ; I
used to try to get him to work in his evenings
without avail. His great pride was in his cards,
on which he styled himself " Architect and Sur
veyor," and in mentioning certain gentlemen as
his "clients." He was, however, well skilled in
reducing the plans and elevations of Mr. Edmes-
ton's houses to a very small scale, and drawing
them with sparkling neatness in the margin of the
sheet of drawing-paper on which the specification
Avas written out in diamond text for the builder to
sign as his contract. Thus I went on without a
companion of my own taste, indeed for a long
time without knoAving a single student of architec
ture but Mr. Springbett. It is right, however, to
mention that he used occasionally to take lessons

58 Sir Gilbert Scott.
at the drawing-school of Mr. Grayson, nor would
it be right to allow it to be supposed that Mr.
Edmeston's taste in the abstract Avas proportioned
to the nature of his practice. He really took
much pleasure in, and appreciated fine works,
whether ancient or modern, and being a man of
literary tastes, his feelings and vieAvs were by no
means in unison Avith his practice. He was, in
point of fact, a most agreeable companion, and
a man of liberal and refined mind, thoroughly
Avell-informed and Avell-read, in fact a most supe
rior man in everything but his own direct profes
sional Avork, viewed in its artistic aspect. He
had, too, a strong appreciation of artistic drawing,
and recommended me to take lessons of Mr.
Maddox, an architectural drawing-master of great
talent. I delayed this very long, fearing to bur
den my father unduly. I greatly regret this ; I
certainly ought to have followed up this extra
tuition during the whole period of my pupilage.
¦ As it was, I did so only for a little more than the
| last year of the four of my articles.
Mr. Maddox was certainly a man of real
ability, with a wonderful power of drawing, and
a high appreciation of art. He was, however,
far from being ah estimable man in other ways.
' He was an infidel, and his conversation on such
subjects was truly appalling. My lessons with
him Avere much disturbed by my catching the
smallpox, and by a very mournful occurrence
of another kind, Avhich led to a rather long
absence ; but I gained great advantage from
his instruction, and only wish I had had more of
it. Among my fellow-pupils was Edwin Nash,

chap, ii.] Recollections. 59
who became my staunch friend. Morton Peto,
who had just left Decimus Burton, and Thomas
Henry Wyatt occasionally attended.
The scanty holidays I obtained, in addition to
the' prolonged ones already mentioned, I used to
devote to Avalking out to see old buildings within
reach of London, and in my evenings in the
summer, I searched out objects of architectural
interest in London itself, so that what with books
and Avith sketching, I obtained a very fair know
ledge of gothic architecture, by the time I was
twenty years old, though I had hardly a thought
of ever making use of it. Amongst the longer
tours which helped me in my studies, I may name
a pedestrian journey home, by Avay of St. Albans,
a visit to my eldest brother at Cambridge, Avhence
we walked over to Ely, and a journey to Northamp
ton and Geddington, to sketch the crosses. I had
tAvice visited Waltham cross, so that I thoroughly
kneAv, and had sketched in detail all of the three
Eleanor crosses by the time I Avas nineteen years
old. I Avell recollect the ardour with which I looked
forward to seeing St. Albans. _. I wrote to my
brother John at Chesham to ask him to go with
me, or meet me there, and he came to London to
accompany me. I had not, however, alloAved my
self time to sketch. We Avent on to Dunstable,
and I visited Leighton Buzzard, and Stewkley, on
my way home.
When I was in my articles old London Bridge
was standing, though the present one was in
course of erection. St. Saviour's, Sduthwark, Avas
then in a certain sense complete. The choir was

60 Sir Gilbert Scott.
about that time, or just before, restored by old
George Gwilt, while the nave, transepts and Lady
chapel were untouched, though in a strange state
externally, being faced with brick. Their interiors
Avere, hoAvever, nearly perfect, but encumbered like
other old churches with peAvs and galleries. The
nave Avas a magnificent thing. There was a vast
early-english double doorway, of great height and
depth on the south side, and at the west Avas the
fine early perpendicular doorway, which is given
by the elder Pugin in his " Specimens," and the
destruction of Avhich is celebrated by his son in the
" Contrasts." The Lady-chapel was almost a
ruin, with unglazed windows boarded up : to the
east of it projected a seventeenth-century chapel,
containing the tomb of Bishop Andrewes. To the
north of the church was a large vacant space, where
.the cloisters, &c, had stood, on the eastern side
of which there still remained some remnants of
the monastic buildings. There was also a late
arcliAvay, to the north of the Avest front, leading
into the open vacant ground. There was a fine
late norman doorway on the north of the nave
formerly leading into the cloisters.
The fate of this noble church is melancholy but
instructive. Old George Gwilt had restored the
choir, and, with his son, had devoted to the work
the most anxious and praiseworthy study. The
style being by no means then understood, he had
taken the utmost. pains in studying it wherever he
had the opportunity, and to Ayhatever criticisms
his work may be open, the result was on the whole
highly to his credit.
This anxious painstaking did not, however, suit

chap. ii. J Recollections. 61
the parishoners, and when the transept Avas to be
proceeded with, they placed it in the hands of
another architect, Mr. Wallace, who knew little or
nothing of gothic architecture, and made but a poor
affair of it. About this time, a parish squabble arose
on the subject of the Lady chapel, and happily
Gwilt offered, if funds could be raised, to give his
services gratuitously, and we see the happy result.
A few years later Mr. Wallace was deputed to
report on the state of the roof of the nave, and
with that perverse thoughtlessness which even in
our own day characterizes such reports, he con
demned it at once as unsafe, the ends of the
beams being decayed.
Noav about the same period a well-known
architect had done the same at St. Albans, and
had his report been followed out to its natural con
sequences Ave might have to deplore that glorious
nave as a thing of the past ; but another architect,
Mr. Cottingham (let us give him air praise for the
act), offered to guarantee the safety of the roof,
and to give his services gratuitously to save it,
which he effected by inserting cast-iron shoes to
the decayed beam ends. At St. Saviour's no
such happy interposition took place, the con
demned roof Avas taken down in haste before
arrangements were made for a new one. Parish
squabbles, spreading over several years, caused
the nave to remain a ruin> exposed to the ravages
of the elements, till at length another surveyor
was found to condemn it in toto, and to erect in
its stead the contemptible structure now existing.
Thus did London lose for ever one of the most
valued of her ancient edifices.

62 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Hard by St. Saviour's were, and I fancy are
now, the ruins of the Hall of the Bishop of Win
chester's palace, with its beautiful round window.
The latter still exists, though immured in a Avare-
house Avail.
Crosby Hall, which was close by our office, was
then a packer's warehouse, and was divided into
three stories, an arrangement not so conducive to
the appreciation of its beauty, as to the close
inspection of its roof.
Austin Friars Church was much as it is at
present (or rather Avas until the late fire), barring
the external cementing, Avhich Avas not yet
done. Winchester House, close to Austin Friars, was
also then standing, an Elizabethan mansion
erected by the Lord Winchester, to whom most
of the property of this religious house had been
granted. St. BartholomeAv's, in Smithfield, possessed
someAvhat more of its accompaniments than it
noAv retains ; one side of the cloister existing, and
a good deal of the south transept, though in ruins.
A great fire occurred there in 1830, by Avhich
some parts were lost ; but I recollect that it
brought to light the lower part of the walls
of the Chapter-house, with fine early arcaded
stalls. The ancient bridge over the Lea at Bow, may
also be mentioned amongst the remnants of an
tiquity I then knew, but Avhich have since
perished. Waltham Cross was then unrestored,
or ^rather unspoiled.
The monotony of my life was from time to time

chap, ii.] Recollections. 63
relieved by short visits from my eldest brother,
on his journeys to and from Cambridge. He Avas
a most amusing companion, and his little visits
filled me Avith delight. My father, too, occasion
ally came to town, as did others of my family. I
had at first no friend that I cared for but Robert
Rumsey, the son of the medical man at Chesham,
with Avhom my brother John was placed ; he had
been a pupil of my father's, and was articled to
Messrs. Longman, the publishers. We were very
great friends. He subsequently gave up the busi
ness for which he had been intended, and became
a stipendiary magistrate in the West Indies,
where, I fancy, he still continues.
Later, however, a great change came to me as
to companionship, through my brother John
coming to London to attend the hospitals. This
was a very great relief, and pleasure, and we
almost lived together, always meeting to dine
together at an eating-house in Bucklersbury.
Mr. Edmeston was a dissenter at that time,
though I think he subsequently joined the church;
and I alternately attended service at the episcopal
chapel at Homerton, known as " Ram's chapel,"
and at the " JeAvs' chapel," Bethnal Green, of
which my old friend and kind patron, Mr. King
(my uncle's father), was perpetual warden. On
those alternate Sundays I dined and spent the
day at Mr. King's house in London Fields,
Hackney, and I shall never be sufficiently grate
ful for the kindness both of Mr. and Mrs.. King,
which was continued by the latter after her hus
band's death.
The incumbent of the " Jews' chapel," Avas Mr.

64 Sir Gilbert Scott.
HaAvtrey, a very gentlemanly person, and the
curate Avas a noble old gentleman of the name of
Fancourt. There Avas a tendency amongst the
conoreg-ation to those vieAvs known at the time as
" NeAV Lights," and Avhich subsequently culminated
in Ir\ringism. I Avas one day startled at hearing
thanksgivings offered up in the name of Miss Fan-
court, the curate's daughter, for a miraculous reco
very from a long illness. The miracle had been
performed through the agency of the Rev. Pierre-
point Grieves, an Oxfordshire clergyman. It
created much excitement at the time, and was
unquestionably a very marvellous circumstance,
though doubtless capable of being explained by
natural causes. Mr. (afterwards Bishop) Alex
ander was a frequent preacher there, and Dr.
Wolf Avas Avorshipped as a sort of demi-gqd,
though not without a full appreciation of his
eccentricity. My last year was ushered in by a great
pleasure, folloAved up by the greatest affliction
I had ever experienced. My next brother,
Nathaniel Gilbert, three years my junior, had,
since I left home, grown up into a very charming
and noble-minded youth, of excellent ability, most
amiable and genial disposition, and Avith a fine
vein of semi-humourous, semi-romantic sentiment,
Avhich gave interest and expression to all he said,.
Early in 1830 he Avas. articled to Messrs. Bridges
and Mason, of Red Lion Square, Avho most gene
rously offered to forego their premium, out of con
sideration to my father. Fie took well to his new
occupation, and promised great success. My
delight* at having him in London was more

chap, il] Recollections. 65
than I can express, for I loved him as my own
soul. My very office-work Avas gilded by the prospect
of meeting him in the evening, which was
managed by mutual arrangement. One evening
after he had been in town a month, he told me he
had a bad headache. I did not think much of
that, as he had been rather subject to them ; but
the next evening he failed to meet me, and on
calling Avhere he lived (the house of my excellent
friend, Mrs. Boyes, then of Charterhouse Square),
I found that he Avas ill.
The illness increased day by day, and my poor
mother was hurried up to attend him. It was soon
evident that it was a case of brain-fever. And
one evening, Avhen I had hurried from the office to
see how he was, I was bluntly told by the servant
boy, that he was dead ! I shall never forget the
stunning effect of the announcement ; my legs gave
¦way beneath me, while incoherent sounds were
involuntarily uttered, and I was with difficulty
helped upstairs by my two brothers, Tom and
John, Avho had hastened down to break the mourn
ful news to me. It Avas my first introduction to
sorroAv, and deep, deep it was. My health suffered
much from it for some time.
My poor brother Nat was but sixteen years
old, but a fine well-developed fellow, of a noble
countenance, and a fine bold disposition. I recol
lect some time earlier that he, and a pupil of my
father's of the same standing, apprehended and
secured a man who had been committing a robbery.
And about the same time, when the inhabitants of
Otmoor in Oxfordshire rose against the carrying

66 Sir Gilbert Scott.
out of an enclosure act, and the Bucks yeomanry
were called out, he jumped on to one of the
cannons as they passed through our village, and
rode fourteen miles on it to see the fight.
He lies buried in the churchyard of St. Botolph's,
Aldersgate, Avhere in 1841 I. erected a monument
to his memory, Avith an inscription Avhich my father
had given me some years earlier.
I will, however, turn to more cheerful topics.
My father's first cousin, the daughter of his
eldest uncle, William, had married. Mr. Oldrid of
Boston, and when I was, as I suppose, about
ele\ren, had brought her son, John Henry,1 to
Gawcott as a pupil. She had three daughters, the
eldest of Avhom, Fanny, had once in these early
days accompanied her to GaAvcott, Avhen it was
supposed that my eldest brother Avas attracted by
her. Some years later she and her two sisters went
to school at Chesham, and on tAVo occasions they
spent their Christmas holidays at Gawcott, and an
infinitely merry time it Avas. It was during these
visits that my feelings tOAvards my present dear
Avife,2 the youngest of these cousins, grew up.
My brother Nat Avas then at home, and the mer-
riness of our party Avas perfect. I was not,
hoAvever, aware that I Avas wounded, till the
pain of parting began to be felt. But more of
this anon.
I must of necessity wind up the account of my
pupilage Avith the narration of tAvo circumstances.
One Avas that during the latter period of it,
1 Sometime lecturer at St. Botolph's, Boston, and since then
Vicar of Alford. — Ed.
2 She departed this life February 24th, 1873. —Ed.

chap, ii.] Recollections. 67
Mr. Edmeston very kindly appointed me and
Springbett, joint clerks of the Avorks to a small
building, a proprietary school. We attended on
alternate days, and to my no small advantage,
though perhaps not to that of the building. The
other circumstance was one Avhich had a very
strong influence on my subsequent life, though
Avhether more for good or ill it is not easy to say.
Certain, however, it is, that it was attended with
many advantages, but also with much vexation
of spirit.
¦ The circumstance was this.
A builder named Moffatt, having taken a con
tract under Mr. Edmeston, induced him to
receive his son, then about sixteen, as a pupil.
Young Moffatt was a remarkably intelligent, though
uneducated boy, a native of Cornwall. I remember
before I saw him, Mr. Edmeston describing him
to me with great satisfaction on the score of his
bright intelligent appearance.. It devolved upon
me to help him through our office text-book,
" Peter Nicholson's," and I found him ready in the
extreme. He had been brought up at the bench,
Avhich was then ahvays the case with a young
builder, and Avas in theory held to be a good thing
for an architect. He could do anything and every
thing Avhich wood and tools could produce, from a
four-panel door to the finest piece of cabinet Avork,
and knew all the practical lore of the timber
merchant, the builder, and the mechanic, a class of
knowledge Avhich I perhaps almost unduly appre
ciated, and which with the brightness of his
uncultivated parts won for him in my mind a sort
of regretful respect.
f 2

68 Sir Gilbert Scott.
He Avas subject to lameness, the result of a
fever, and soon becoming unable to go to town,
and Mr. Edmeston having established a branch
office at Hackney, near where Moffatt lived, it Avas
arranged that he should be placed there, and I
used to go in the mornings to instruct him in
architectural draAving, Euclid, practical Geometry,
and I think perspective, in all of which he got on
remarkably Avell, so long as I continued at Mr.
Edmeston's. I also persuaded him subsequently
to take lessons of Mr. Maddox.
After I left, he continued at Mr. Edmeston's
city office for some time, till getting sick of having
next to nothing to do, he rebelled, and refused
further attendance ; but I shall have plenty to say
of his subsequent progress before I have done.
On leaving Mr. Edmeston's about Lady Day
1 83 1, I Avent for a month to visit my uncle and
aunt King at Latimers, where I again saw my
merry cousin, Carry Oldrid. My uncle met with
a serious accident while I was there, by the break
ing of a ladder, by which we Avere getting to the
roof of the house, the ladder breaking betAveen his
feet and my hands, so that he fell to the ground
Avhile I escaped. Happily he was not very
seriously hurt, though he long felt the effects of it.
This threAv me all the more into the society of my
favourite cousin, and fanned the spark already
kindled. I may note here as an archaeological memoran
dum, that during this visit I walked over to
King's Langley, Avhere I found a farmer, on Avhose
ground was the site of the ancient monastic estab
lishment, digging up the foundations of the church ;

chap. ii.J Recollections. 69
many of the bases were exposed to view, exhibit
ing the plan of a cross church of the first order. I
compared it at the time to Westminster Abbey.
I recollect that the bases were of purbeck marble,
and belonged to columns surrounded by eight
detached shafts, with larger piers at the crossings.
The farmer Avas taking a plan of it before the
removal of the bases. I mention this because it
is not generally known. I fear the plan can
hardly now be extant.
This visit to Latimers was one of peculiar
delight. The April of 1831 Avas as bright and
genial as the May was severe, and both in one
respect symbolized my OAvn feelings. The
Latimers country was charming that April. The
tender green of the beechwoods, luxuriant before
its Avonted time, and. relieved at all points by the
blossom of the wild cherry ; the snoAvy splendour
of the cherry orchards ; the hedgerows and woods
gemmed with Avild flowers, and all nature rejoicing
in the all too early spring, offered enjoyments almost
intoxicating to one who had not seen the country
at this season for four years, and noAv saw it in an
unusually exquisite spot, and at an antedated
season ; but this Avas accompanied by something
much more fascinating, the society of my cousin,
who Avas the constant companion of my walks.
On my proceeding at the end of this enchanted
sojourn, to Gawcott, oh hoAV plain and homely
everything looked ! My dear sister, Euphemia, was
quite hurt at my admiring nothing. The very
primroses Avere pale and colourless compared with
those at Latimers. The plain homely Oxford
clay district, with its lopped hedgerow timber and

yo Sir Gilbert Scott.
its oakwoods, looked sadly prosaic after the beauties
of the Chiltern land. My sister suspected a deeper
cause, and privately suggested it to my mother,
Avho, with the decision and commanding force Avhich
were her characteristics, at once brought me to
book, and absolutely prohibited any further indul
gence of such sentiments, partly on account of my,
for long years to come, dependent position.
I really had not indulged specific and acknow
ledged intentions, though certainly harbouring
Avarm sentiments, but this lecture determined me
to resist them for the present at least, and my
state of mind Avas aptly symbolized by the deep
snow and sharp frost, by Avhich May Avas ushered
in, which killed and • blackened the precocious
groAvths of the too early spring to a degree which
I have never Avitnessed since, and Avhich Avas said
by the knowing ones, but mistakenly, to be beyond
the poAvers of summer to restore.
I spent a couple of months at home sketching,
making sundry draAvings, &c, and then paid a visit
to my eldest brother, Avho was settled at Goring
on the Thames, a charming spot, where I also
sketched a little among the old churches, &c, and
indulged a feAv thoughts of my cousin Carry, who
had recently been there. Shortly aftenvards I set
out on the longest journey I had yet taken, a visit
to my uncle at Hull.
On this journey I sketched a good deal, and
saw much Avhich delighted me. I Avent to Peter
borough, Stamford, Grantham, NeAvark, Lincoln,
HoAvden, Selby, York, Bridlington, Beverly,
Boston, Tattershall, &c. I also had a pleasant
coasting trip to Scarborough and Flamborough

chap, ii.] Recollections. yt
Head. My visit to FIull, too, was a very merry
one, and I formed a more intimate friendship Avith
my cousin John,3 which has lasted ever since.
On my return I saw my cousin Carry again, but
followed the prudential counsels of my mother, as
closely as I could.
This journey was a very great advantage to
me; it opened out and extended greatly my
knowledge of gothic architecture, and tended to
reduce my shy, taciturn, and someAvhat gauche
manner, a point in which I was by nature at a
great disadvantage.
I now entered upon the second stage of my
professional life. Returning to London, I ob
tained many introductions to architects and others,
several of Avhom gave me good advice, varying
with their particular practice or antecedents. I
think it was Mr. Waller, a well-known surveyor,
who advised me to put myself with a builder;
and, obtaining an introduction to Mr. (noAV Sir
Samuel Morton) Peto, I placed myself with him
and Mr. Grissell, his partner, giving such ser
vices as I could offer, in return for having the
run of their workshops, and of their London
works. It is impossible for me to exaggerate the ad
vantages of this arrangement in giving me an
insight into every description of practical work ;
and that on a scale and of kinds greatly differing
from what I had been accustomed to. I Avas
specially stationed at the Hungerford Market,
then in progress of erection under Mr. Fowler, to
3 Afterwards Vicar of St. Mary's, Hull. He died in 1865.
—Ed.

j2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avhose very talented and excellent Clerk ' of the
Works (the late Mr. Colling) I. Avas under very
great obligations for kind and continued aid in
my pursuit of practical information. The work
Avas constructed on principles then neAv. Iron
girders, Yorkshire landings, roofs and platforms
of tiles in cement, and columns of granite being
its leading elements.
I got much information, too, in the joiner's shop,
from the foreman, from the clerks in the office,
and especially, from assisting in measuring up
Avork, usually Avith the foreman. I had at one
time to assist two surveyors of eminence, Mr.
Roper and Mr. Higgins, in measuring up all the
Avork in a roAV of houses in Avhich Mr. Peto and
Mr. Grissell lived, in furtherance of some arrange
ment under the Avill of the late Mr. Peto, and a
most valuable lesson it Avas.
I ought, too, to mention the advantage of con
stant reference to Mr. FoAvler's working draAvings,
some of the best and most perspicuous I have
ever seen, and of selecting from Messrs. G. and
P.-'s office copies of specifications by different
architects, Avhich I Avas kindly allowed to take to
my lodgings, and make copious extracts from.
I may mention that my brother John and I
lodged together during a part of this time in
Warwick Court, Holborn, Avhere I continued to
live long after he had left tOAvn, and where my
stay was from time to time enlivened by visits
from my cousin John from Hull, and sometimes
from my father and my uncle John, and now and
then by my eldest, brother taking for some,weeks
together the duty of his rector, Avho held a

chap, ii.] Recollections. 73
plurality, being incumbent of one of Barry's
Islington churches.
My stay Avith Grissell and Peto, though I seem
to have made much of it, Avas not of long con
tinuance. It became necessary that . I should be
doing something for my living ; and Mr. Peto did
not quite, relish my prying so closely as I Avas
wont, into the foundations of the prices of work
and materials, though both he and Mr. Grissell
were most kind towards me. I accordingly some
time In 1832 entered the office of my very
excellent friend, Mr. Henry Roberts, who had
recently obtained by competition the appointment
of architect to the new Fishmongers' Hall, at the
foot of neAv London Bridge.
Mr. Roberts had, subsequently to his original
period of pupilage, been for a considerable time in
the office of Sir Robert S-mirke, . whose tastes,
habits, modes of construction, and method of
making Avorking draAvings, he had thoroughly
imbibed. He had subsequently made the length
ened continental tour customary in those days,
and had not, I think, very long been in practice
since his return. He was in independent circum
stances, and was a gentlemanly, religious, precise,
and quiet man. I was the only clerk in the office
at the time, though he subsequently took a pupil,
so that I had the advantage of making all the.
working drawings of this considerable public
building, from the foundation to the finish ; and of
helping in measuring up the extras and omissions,
as well as of constantly seeing the work during its
progress. This engagement lasted Iavo years, and though

74 Sir Gilbert Scott.
most beneficial to me, it seems almost a blank in
my memory, from its even and uneventful cha
racter. I recollect that during that time I once
ventured into a public competition for the gram
mar school at Birmingham. I also got a picture
one year (I don't recollect trying again) into the
exhibition, and attended a course of Sir John
Soane's lectures, at the Royal Academy. I often
contemplated becoming a student there, and
chalked out Gothic designs, but I never followed
it up. I do not think I did much in sketching
at this time, Smirkism and practical work having
for a time chilled my own tastes ; nor had I any
advantages of artistic study. It Avas a dull, blank
period, and I think I Avas to blame for it.
I have little recollection of my visits home
during this time, though in the course of it I lost
my aunt Gilbert. I remember, however, one visit.
My father being presented by the Bishop of Lin
coln (Kaye) to the living of Wappenham, North
amptonshire, eleven miles north of Gawcott, I
Avent with him to reconnoitre, and, having to build
a neAV house there, I supplied him with a very
ugly design, founded on one of Mr. Roberts'
plans, which his old builder, Mr. Willmore, took
care to spoil and slight, as much as he thought
necessary for his OAvn purposes. About this
time, also, I Avas requested by my friend, Henry
Rumsey, Avho had succeeded to his father's
practice at Chesham, to plan him a house there.
My taste seemed under a cold spell, and the
design, though convenient enough, was wholly
devoid of any attempt at architectural character.
He wanted to employ several local tradesmen

chap, ii.] Recollections. 75
and I named my old fellow-pupil Moffatt as clerk
of the Avorks, who Avas also to get a good deal of
the joiner's Avork done in London under his father.
Thus Avas recommenced an acquaintance productive
of such marked influence on my future career.
Moffatt performed his duties most efficiently and
cleverly, but Avith so little tact as to make an
enemy of his employer for the very acts by which
he was best promoting his interests, while I lost in
my friend's esteem by defending my representative.
In the spring of 1834, Mr. Roberts kindly gave
me the appointment of clerk of the works to a
small Avork at Camberwell, which I superintended
throughout its erection, which was very rapid,
and was completed in the autumn of the same
year. My conscience tells me that this arrange
ment was much more beneficial to myself than to
the building.
I now made up my mind to attempt to get into
practice, but previous to doing so, I took three
months' holiday, which, foreign travel being out
of the question, I spent partly at Wappenham,
and on visits to my uncle King and my eldest
brother, and partly in. a sketching tour, on Avhich
I Avas accompanied by my friend Edwin Nash.
I sketched a good deal during this interval, and
did something towards recovering my old but
dormant tastes. My stay at my father's new
home was very delightful to me, but how much
more precious had I known that it was my last
visit to him. His health had evidently much
failed him of late, and I heard Avhispers of deadly
maladies, but they seemed as idle tales to my
sanguine mind.

¦j 6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Alas ! hoAv soon they proved far otherwise.
While Ave Avere on this tour Ave heard the
news of the destruction of the Houses of Par
liament. I remember Avith great interest "the many even
ings spent in hearing the debates within the AA'alls
of old St. Stephen.s, where I Avas familiar Avith
the eloquence of Peel, Stanley (afterwards Lord
Derby), O'Connell, Lord John Russell, and others,
Avith the early efforts of the then youthful and
blooming Gladstone, and the quaint absurdities of
old Cobbett.
The old St. Stephen's resembled a rather sump
tuous methodist chapel, all its real architecture
being concealed by Avainscotting and round-topped
AvindoAvs, denying every hint of the real ones.
When I saAV it on my return to London, how
changed Avas its aspect ! It seemed as if the
subject of an enchanter's spell, and converted
suddenly from a mean conventicle into a Gothic
ruin of unrivalled beauty, gloAving Avith the
scorched but quite intelligible remnants of its
gorgeous decorative colouring. The destruction
of this precious architectural relic is the single
blot upon the fair shield of Sir Charles Barry.
About this time the new Poor-laAV Act had
come into operation, and my friend Kempthorne,
just returned home from his continental tour, had,
through the interest of the Chief Commissioner,
Avho was a friend of his father's, been employed to
prepare normal designs for the proposed Union
Avorkhouses. Being inexperienced, he, in an unhappy moment,
called in the aid of his old master, Mr. Voysey,

chap, ii.] Recollections. 77
who, though a clever and ingenious practical
man, had not one spark of taste, and took a very
exaggerated view of the necessity for economy.
The assistant commissioners Avere Instructed to
press upon the neAvly-formed boards of guardians
the desirableness of employing Mr. Kempthorne,
the commissioners' . architect ; and thus poor
Kempthorne was placed under the real dis
advantage (though seeming advantage) of having
a vast practice thrust upon him before his expe
rience had fitted him to conduct it, Avhile he
embarked Avith a set of ready-made designs of
the meanest possible character, and very defective
in other particulars.
While visiting my brother at Goring about
Christmas, 1834, I received a letter from Kemp
thorne, telling me that a set of chambers next to
his own, in Carlton Chambers, Regent Street, Avas-
vacant, and that if I liked to take them, he could
find employment for my leisure time, in assisting
him with his Union Workhouses. I closed Avith
this and Avas soon ensconced in my neAV chambers
and busied on Avork even more mean than that of
my pupilage. This had not, hoAvever, continued
more than a feAV Aveeks, Avhen one morning Kemp
thorne entered my room with an expression on his
countenance Avhich soon showed me that he was
the bearer of heavy tidings. He soon broke to
me, kindly and gently, for he Avas a good, kind
fellow, the sad intelligence of the sudden death of
my father.
Here Avas a stunning blow, of Avhich I had
experienced no parallel ! I will not go into our
family grief, my poor widowed mother's prostra-

78 Sir Gilbert Scott.
tion, nor the sudden break-up of our happy home.
After the first flood of grief Avas passed, and my
father's honoured remains were deposited along
side of those of old John West, in the church at
Gawcott, action and decision became the necessi
ties of our position. My two eldest brothers were
fairly on their own hands, and my eldest sister Avas
married to my cousin, the Rev. J. H. Oldrid, who
had succeeded my father at Gawcott. I Avas the
eldest of six still unsettled in life, and I must
adopt my course Avith promptitude, or my chances
in life Avere gone.
The two steps 1 took were, first to write a kind
of circular to every influential friend of my
father's I could think of, informing them that I had
commenced practice, and begging their patronage,
and secondly, to quit Kempthorne, and to use my
interest to obtain the appointment of architect to
the Union Workhouses in the district where my
father had been knoAvn. Both steps were happily
attended with success. Several friends placed
small works in my hands, and I succeeded by a
strenuous canvass of every guardian in obtaining
appointments to four unions in our immediate
district. This was a success for which I have to thank a
gracious Providence, and without which I really do
not know what course I could have taken. Now,
however, I found myself in a few months in Avhat
Avas to me good practice, though for a time unpro
ductive, and involving considerable outlay, in
Avhich I Avas helped by my mother out Of her
scanty means, and — it would be contemptible if I
allowed pride to lead me to ignore it — by my share

chap. ii. J Recollections. 79
in a fund, which was, wholly unasked, subscribed
as a testimonial to, and a help to the descendants
of, the Commentator, my grandfather. .
If the three previous years come back to my
memory as a mere blank, those which succeeded
seem an era of turmoil, of violent activity and
exertion. For weeks I almost lived on horseback,
canvassing newly formed unions. Then alternated
periods of close, hard Avork in my little office at
Carlton Chambers, with coach journeys, chiefly by
night, followed by meetings of guardians, search
ing out of materials, and hurrying from union to
union, often riding across unknown bits of country
after dark, sudden sweet peeps in at my poor
mother's new home, (a nice old house at Wappen-
ham, Avhere my brother had, by Bishop Kaye's
kindness, succeeded my father at the rectory,) Avith
flying visits to Gawcott and elseAvhere, as occasion
served. I employed one clerk, and had invited Moffatt
to come to help me in preparing my early work
ing drawings, which he did with the utmost dili
gence and efficiency, and on the works of one
union commencing, and those of others within
reach being about to commence, I recommended
him as resident superintendent of a little circuit of
buildings within a feAv miles of one another. He
accordingly took up his residence at one of those
places whence he Avas to ride the round of the
others. By some strange coincidence of circumstances
an influential magistrate in Wiltshire had become
acquainted Avith, and taken a fancy to Moffatt,
and had invited him down there, promising to use

8o Sir Gilbert Scott.
his influence in getting him appointed architect to
the Amesbury Union House. He went accord
ingly and succeeded, and Ave made the plans and
Avorking draAvings at my office.
An anomalous state of things was thus set up,
I Avas architect to four union Avorkhouses in one
district, to Avhich Moffatt Avas clerk of the works,
Avhile he Avas architect to one in a distant part
of the country, the drawings for which were
made at my office. This led him to come and
make a formal proposal to me. I agreed to this
proposal, and it became the foundation of our
future partnership. I Avill here stop these hard,
dull incidents, and speak of a circumstance of a
very different and more interesting character.
Early in the period Avhich I have been describ
ing, during one of my visits to Wappenham, my
mother had told me that my cousin Carry Oldrid
had just come on a visit to Ga>vcott, and that if
my old feelings continued toAvards her, she did
not desire me to- be influenced by Avhat, three
or four years previously, she had said. I met
my cousin at Buckingham, and, thus set free,
my old sentiments came back upon me like a
flood. I spent a day or two at GaAvcott in her
society, and I soon found myself over head and
ears in love. In a few months Ave Avere engaged,
though Avithout any near prospect of marriage.
This afforded a softening and beneficial relief to
the too hard, unsentimental pursuits which at this
time almost overAvhelmed me, and to which I
must now return.
The effect of Moffatt's neAV arrangement was
magical. He followed up union-hunting Into

chap, ii.] Recollections. 81
Devonshire and Cornwall with almost uniform
success, and my poor little quartette of works
round my old home soon became as nothing,
when compared with the engagements Avhich
flowed in upon us as partners. Moffatt's own
exertions Avere almost superhuman, and when I
recollect that no railways came to his help, I feel
perfectly amazed to think of what he effected.
When I first set about this poor-laAv work, I
considered the look of the buildings as wholly out
of the question, and felt myself bound in a great
degree to the arrangements laid down by the
published plans of the commissioners, though I
attempted better construction than they prescribed.
I recollect a competitor, Mr. Plowman of Oxford,
Avho Avas both a builder and an architect, saying
of one of my earliest specifications, that it was
one of the best he had ever seen, but impossible
to be carried out in a Avorkhouse on account of the
cost. This I found to be true, for Kempthorne's
plans and specifications, in which everything had
been cut down to the very quick, had given the
scale of estimate which the commissioners led
the guardians to expect, so that for a long time
it Avas unsafe to venture beyond it. Architecture
and good finish, or even any great improvements
in arrangement, Avere at the time hopeless, and
one was driven to, the wretched necessity of view
ing one's profession, as represented by one's chief
works, merely as a means of getting a living, ex
cepting that Avhen competitions became frequent,'
there Avas an excitement and speculation about
them, Avhich added a certain kind of interest to
othenvise most uninteresting work. Competition G

82 Sir Gilbert Scott.
soon, however, produced other effects. Variety
became necessary, or where was the ground-work
for competition ? Thus improved arrangements
began to be aimed at. Perspective views Avere
naturally regarded as attractive elements in a
competition, and to give them any interest there
must be something to show, so that external
appearance began timidly to be thought of, and
estimates stealthily to creep upwards, and many
a row and uproar did this produce, to the joy
of the disappointed competitors.
The competitions for union workhouses were
conducted on principles quite peculiar to them
selves. They Avere open in every sense, and
each of the competitors was at liberty to take any
step he thought good. They used first to go
down and call on the clerk, the chairman, and any
of the guardians who were supposed to have any
ideas of their OAvn, and after the designs were sent
in, no harm Avas thought of repeating those calls
as often as the competitor pleased, and advocating
the merits, each man of his own arrangement, On
the day on which the designs were to be examined
the competitors were usually Avaiting in the ante
room, and Avere called in one by one to give per
sonal explanations, and the decision was often
announced then and there to the assembled can
didates. Moffatt Avas most successful in this kind
of fighting, having an instinctive perception of
Avhich men to aim at pleasing, and of how to meet
their views and to address himself successfully to
their particular temperaments. The pains he took
in improving the arrangements were enormous,
communicating constantly with the most experi-

chap, n.] Recollections. 8

o

enced governors of workhouses, and gathering
ideas wherever he went. He was always on the
move. We Avent every Week to . Peek's coffee
house to see the country papers, and to find adver
tisements of pending competitions. Moffatt then
ran down to the place to get up information. On
his return, we set to work, with violence, to make
the design, and to prepare the competition draw
ings, often working all night as well as all day.
He Avould.then start off by the mail, travel all night,
meet the board of guardians, and perhaps win
the competition, and return during the next night
to set to [Work on another design. I have known
him travel, four nights running, and to work hard
throughout the intervening days, a habit facilitated
by his power of sleeping Avhenever he chose. He
used to say that he snored so loud on the box of
the mail as to keep the inside passengers awake.
He Avas the best arranger of a plan, the hardest
worker, and the best hand at advocating the merits
of what he had to propose, I ever met Avith ; and
I think that he thoroughly deserved his success,
though it naturally won him a host of enemies
and traducers.
I meanwhile carried on my own private poor-law
practice through Northamptonshire and Lincoln
shire, which was viewed by us as my privileged
ground. I built, I think, at that time two union-
houses in Bucks, five in Northamptonshire, and
four in Lincolnshire, in Avhich I stood alone. I
also had a certain amount of practice of other
kinds. I lived, like Moffatt, in a constant turmoil,
though less so than he. The way "in which we
used to rush to the Post Office, or to the Angel at
G 2

84 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Islington, at the last moment, to send off designs and
working drawings, or to set off for our nocturnal
journeys, Avas most exciting, and one Avonders, in
these self-indulgent days, how Ave could stand the
travelling all night outside coaches in the depth of
Avinter, and in all Aveathers. The life we led was
certainly as arduous and exciting as anything one
can fancy in Avork, which in its OAvn nature was so
dull as our business in the abstract was, but one's
mind seems to shape itself to its day, and I believe
I really enjoyed the labour and turmoil in which I
spent my time.
These Avere the last days of the integrity of the
old coaching system, and splendid was its dying
perfection! It Avas a merry thing to leave the
Post Office yard on the box-seat of a mail, and
drive out amidst the mob of porters, passengers, and
gazers. As far as Barnet on the north road seven
mails ran together Avith their choicest trotting teams
passing and repassing one another, the horns bloAv-
ing merrily, every one in a good humour, and
proud of Avhat they Avere doing. Then the hasty
cup of coffee at midnight, and the hurried break
fast had joys about them which I seem even now
to feel again. One coach I travelled by — "the
Manchester Telegraph " — cleared eleven miles an
hour all the Avay down, stoppings included. It
was a splendid perfection of machinery, but its
fate Avas sealed, the great lines of raihvay being in
rapid progress. Our shorter journeyings we did
by gig and on horseback, though they often ex
tended through the length and breadth of a
county. I had in the midst of all this confusion made

chap, ii.] Recollections. 85
myself decently acquainted Avith geology, which,
Avith my old church-hunting tendencies, added
greatly to the interest of my journeys. I Avas in
fact an enthusiast on this subject ; and though I
had not time to follow it scientifically, I obtained a
very good practical knowledge of the stratification
and geological productions of the greater part of
the country. My sketching of gothic architecture
Avas at the time but scanty ; having to fight for
bare existence, I directed my efforts mainly to the
matter before me.
In 1838 (June 4th) I was married to my dear
cousin Caroline. We took apartments until we
could find a house, and about the end of the year
we settled doAvn at No. 20 (now 31), Spring
Gardens, where my tAvo eldest sons Avere born in
1839 and 1 841. From this date my practice
began to take a more legitimate and less abnormal
line ; and though I soon afterwards became actual
partner with Mr. Moffatt, this partnership was not
of permanent duration.
In 1838, shortly after my marriage, I competed '
for a church Avith success. This was at Lincoln,
and I cannot say anything in its favour, excepting
that it was better than many then erected. t
Church architecture was then perhaps at its l
loAvest level. The era of the " million " churches
of the commissioners had long past, and Barry's
four churches at Islington, which Avere really!
respectable and well, intentioned, and liberal in
their cost, had been succeeded by an abject fry,
the products of the "Cheap Church" mania, in ,
Avhich all decency of architectural finish and con
struction was ground down to the very dust, to

S6 Sir Gilbert Scolt.
meet an idolized tariff of so many shillings a
sitting.4 My first church (except one poor barn
designed for my uncle King) dates frOm the same
year Avith the foundation of the Cambridge Cam
den Society, to whom the honour of our recovery
from the odious bathos is mainly due. I only
Avish I had knoAvn its founders at the time. As it
was, no idea of ecclesiastical arrangement, or ritual
propriety, had then even crossed my mind.
Unfortunately everything I did at that time fell
into the wholesale form ; and before I had time to
discover the defects of my first design, its general
form and its radical errors Avere repeated in no
less than six other churches,5 and Avhich followed
in such rapid succession as to leave no time for
improvement, all being planned, I fancy, in 1839,
or early in the succeeding year.
The designs for these churches Avere by no
means similar, but they all agreed in two points--
the use of a transept of the minor kind,6 which
happened to be suggested to me by those at
Pinner and Harrow, and the absence of any
regular and proper chancel, my grave idea being
that this feature Avas obsolete. They all agreed
4 This tariff system is not yet closed. A district of so many
thousand souls is still held to require a church of so many.
hundred " sittings " at the cost of so much a-piece. The pro
portion — grotesque as it sounds~-of " sittings " to souls has to
be adjusted, and the area of each laid down in square feet
and inches. — Ed.
5 At Birmingham, Lincoln, Shaftesbury, Hanwell, Turnhara
Bridlington Quay, and Norbiton.
6 Curiously enough, an old English tradition, derived from
Saxon times, and prevalent in England and Ireland all through
the middle ages. — Ed.

chap, n.] Recollections. gy
too in the meagreness of their construction, in the
contemptible character of their fittings, in most
of them being begalleried to the very eyes, and in
the use of plaster for internal mouldings, even for
die pillars.
This latter meanness had been forced upon me,
for at first I aimed at avoiding it, but the cheap-
church rage overcame me, and as I had not then
awaked to the viciousness of shams, I was uncon-
cious of the abyss into which I had fallen. These
days of abject degradation only lasted for about
two years or little more, but, alas ! what a mass of
horrors was perpetrated during that short interval !
Often, and that within a few months of this period,
have I been wicked enough to wish my works
burnt down again. Yet they were but part of the
base art-history of their day. In 1841 I was em
ployed by Mr. Minton to design him a church, the
first to which I put a regular chancel, but in some
other respects, hardly an advance on the others,
though before its completion I had awakened to a
truer sense of the dignity of the subject.
This awakening arose, I think, from two causes
operating almost simultaneously: my first ac
quaintance with the Cambridge Camden Society,
and my reading Pugin's articles in the " Dublin
Review." I may be in error as to their coincidence
of date. The first took place in this manner. I
saw somewhere an article by Mr_ Webb, the secre
tary to the Camden Society, which greatly excited
my sympathy. Just at the same time I had become
exceedingly irate at the projected destruction by
Mr. Barry of St. Stephen s Chapel, and I wrote
to Mr. Webb and subsequently saw him on the

SS Sir Gilbert Scott..
subject. I was introduced, I believe, by Edward
Boyce. Mr. Webb took advantage of the occasion
to lecture me on church architecture in general,
on the necessity of chancels, &c, &c. I at once
saw that he was right, and became a reader of the
" Ecclesiologist." Plight's articles excited me al
most to fury, and I suddenly found myself like a
person awakened from a long feverish dream, which
had rendered him unconscious, of Avhat Avas going
on about him.
Being thus morally aAvakened, my physical
dreams followed the subject of my Avaking thoughts.
I used fondly to dream of making Pugin's acquain
tance and to awake, perhaps, while on a night
journey in high excitement, at the imagined inter-
vieAV. I had heard of Pugin as a boy, ten or eleven
years before, at. Maddox's. I had again heard of
him and his " Contrasts " from my ardent and ex
cellent friend Charles Bailey, Avho had often helped
me with my drawings, and I had more recently got
to knoAv more of him in. this Avay. I had under
taken in 1838 (or thereabouts) a large workhouse
at Loughborough. The contractor for a part of
the Avork was a strange rough mason from Hull,
named Myers. While engaged under me at
Loughborough, he competed Avith success for the
erection of a Roman Catholic Church at Derby,
nearly the first Avhich Pugin built.7
Myers Avas a native of Beverly, and had been ap
prenticed to the mason to the minster, from which
he had acquired an ardent love of Gothic architec
ture, and this noAV dormant tendency was roused
into energy by his being brought into contact with
7 St. Mary's, a really beautiful work. — Ed.

chap, n.] Recollections. 89
Pugin. Eternal friendship Avas SAvorn between
them, and Myers was the builder of nearly every
subsequent Avork of Pugin's.
I made my crusade in favour of St. Stephen's
an excuse for writing to Pugin, and to my almost
tremulous delight, I Avas invited to call. He was
tremendously jolly, and shoAved almost too much
bonhomie to accord with my romantic expecta
tions. I very rarely saw him again, though I be
came a devoted reader of his written, and visitor
of his erected Avorks, and a greedy recipient of
every tale about him, and report of Avhat he said
or did. A new phase had come over me, tho
roughly en rapport with my early taste, but in
utter discord with the "fitful fever" of my poor-
law activity. I was in fact a neAV man, . though
that man Avas, according to the trite saying, the
true son of my boyhood.
It was, I suppose, while the awakening Avas
commencing, that I Avas invited to compete with
a small number of architects for the erection of
the Martyrs' Memorial at Oxford. This was in
1.840, and it seems strange that one so unknown.
in matters of taste, should have been named on a
select list for a work like this. I owed it, I fancy,
to the kind influence of my friends, Mr. StdAve
and Major Macdonald, with two members of the
committee,, and to a third member, Dr. Macbride,
having been a friend of my father and of my grand
father:: when I received the invitation I threw
myself into the design With all the ardour I
possessed. My early study, full ten years before,
of the Eleanor crosses was a good preparation.
I obtained every draAving of old crosses 1 could

go Sir Gilbert Scott. [1840
lay hand on, and devoted my best endeavours to
producing a design suited to the object. I suc
ceeded. That this was before my aAvakening to a
true feeling for church architecture, is proved by
the defects of the accompanying addition to St.
Mary Magdalene's church; but I fancy the cross
itself AAras better than any one but Pugin would
then have produced.
An amusing incident occurred at, I believe, my
first intervieAV Avith the committee. I found them
in disagreement as to the best stone for the monu
ment. The commissioners for selecting stone for
the Houses of Parliament, had not long before
made their report in, favour of the purely mythic
stone of Bolsover Moor. One party favoured
this imaginary stone, for its warm colour ; another,
the Avhite variety of magnesian limestone from
Roche Abbey, on account of its fine grain. I
ventured on the suggestion, that by visiting the
district, it might be possible to find a stone unit
ing these qualities, when Dr. Buckland snubbed
me Avith great scorn, saying that such a sug
gestion might have been made in years gone
by, Avhen little was knoAvn of the geological
productions of the country, but that noAV,
Avhen every variety of stone was so well known,
it Avas hopeless to look out for new ones. I
happened, however, though without scientific
knoAvledge, to have nearly as practical an acquain
tance Avith stone quarries as Dr. Buckland, and
I did not see the force of the argument. I there
fore started off with Moffatt for the maenesio-
calcareous district. The first quarry Ave went to
Avas that at Mansfield Woodhouse, which, on the

chap. ii. J Recollections. 91
discovery of the Bolsover delusion, had been re
opened for the Houses of Parliament ; this stone
did not meet my wishes, being too coarse in grain,
and not pure enough in colour. On describing,
however, to the foreman of the quarry what I was
seeking for, he at once told me he could show me
what I Avanted ; and, taking a hammer and Avalk
ing with us across a feAv fields, he brought us to
an. ancient and long-disused quarry, grown over
with brushwood, and on striking off a fragment
from the rock, presented to me the very stone
which my imagination had pourtrayed! My de
light Avas excessive. The committee at once,
though at a great increase of cost, adopted it, and
in their next report attributed the happy dis
covery to the pre-eminent geological skill of Dr.
Buckland. The stone is perhaps the finest in the kingdom,
though it is not to be obtained in large blocks,
and is very costly in the quarrying. The rock
is still knoAvn by the name of "The Memorial
Quarry." About this time, or shortly afterwards, two
important works came into our hands by public
competition : the Infant Orphan Asylum at Wan-
. stead, and the Church of St. Giles, Camberwell.
The former of these Avorks is a magnificent
institution.: one of the many Avhich own the well-
known Dr. Andrew Reed as the founder.
Nothing could exceed the energy with which
Moffatt threw himself into this competition, the
most important by far into which we had then
entered, nor the pains he took in thoroughly master
ing its practical requirements. The planning Avas

92 Si?- Gilbert Scott.
chiefly his, the external design, which was Eliza
bethan, mine. We succeeded.' The first, stone
Avas laid in great state by Prince Albert, and the
building opened by Leopold, the King of the
Belgians. The old Church of St. Giles, Camberwell, was
burnt down in 1 840, and there was a public com
petition for designs for its re-erection. We com
peted, sending in a very ambitious design, groined
throughout Avith terra-cotta. No one had an idea
whose our plans Avere. The competition being
close, Ave adhered scrupulously to its regulations.
Mr. Blore acted as assessor, and reported in our
favour. Tenders Avere received for Our design,
and came in, I think, pretty favourably, but a
parish opposition being excited, and a poll called
for, a compromise Avas at length made, and we
were commissioned to prepare a less costly design,
which resulted in the present structure.
My conArersion to the exclusive use of real
material came to its climax during the progress of
this work, and much Avhich Avas at first shown as
of plaster Avas afterwards converted into stone,
the builder promising to accept some other change
as a compensation. He died before the com
pletion of the work, and his executors ignoring
this promise, a good deal of dissatisfaction ensued,
though, I must say, they had a very cheap build
ing, and the best church by far which had then
been erected. The pains which I took over this
church Avere only equalled by the terror with
which I attended the meetings of the committee,
though, I think, they nearly all continued my very
good friends, and were very proud indeed of their

chap, ii.] Recollections.

93

building. The then incumbent was the Rev.
J. G. Storie, a remarkable person. He was a
man of great talent, and personal and moral
prowess, the most masterly hand at coping with a
turbulent parish vestry I ever saw.. His only.
great fault was that he was a clergyman, instead
of, as nature intended, a soldier or a barrister;
but this was the fault of his parents or guardians,
not his OAvn. He was a thorough man of the
world, and immersed in the society of men of his
own taste. I greatly-admired, and, to a certain
extent, respected, Avhile I feared him, for he was a
man whose very look would almost make one
tremble, when his wrath was stirred. He was
determined to have a good church, and so far as
his day permitted, he got it, and after all the little
rubs we had, I vieAv his memory with respect and
friendship. His expensive habits led him to sell
the advowson, which was his own, with a covenant
for immediate resignation. The sale was. effected,
and the covenant performed before the purchase-
money was paid, and those who Avish to know the
rest may inquire for themselves. However this
may be, poor Mr. Storie Avas reduced to poverty,
from which he never recovered.
By a strange coincidence, a triple announce
ment Avas one Sunday made in the new church.
The choir had struck, the bellows of the organ
had burst, and the vicar had resigned.
Our great mistake in the church was the use of
the Caen stone, an error fallen into by many at
that time and later. It reminds me of a funny
incident relating to the Oxford Memorial. The
Chapter of Canterbury had presented three fine

94 Sir Gilbert Scott.
blocks of Caen stone for the statues of the three
bishops. I much desired to sketch carefully, for
the benefit of the monument, the details of the
noble tomb of Archbishop Peckham, and took
occasion to stop at Canterbury for the purpose.
The verger, however, soon told me that no sketch
ing could be permitted without an order. The
Dean (Bishop Bagot), was away at his See.
Canon Peel had gone out, Archdeacon Croft,
whom I knew* was not to be found, and my last
resource was Dr. Spry. I called at his house
and sent in my name, with full particulars of my
mission and its objects. The Reverend. Doctor
Avas at his luncheon, I heard the " knives and
forks rattling," no " sweet music to me," and after
more than one attempt, Avas sent off Avith a
peremptory refusal.
One of our great Avorks at this time was Read
ing gaol, and few brought me greater annoyance,
I think unjustly. Our design was chosen by the
Inspector of Prisons, Mr. Russell, though he made
great alteration in its arrangement.
Like the Poor-Law Commissioners, he was
interested in not frightening the magistrates by a
high estimate, and he almost pledged himself to
us, that from his experience, he kneAv we might
safely name a particular sum.
Had the usual course of a builder's estimate
been followed, the error would have been dis
covered in time, but the Inspector further pre
scribed a course which prevented this. He advised
the magistrates to contract only for a schedule of
prices, and to have the Avork measured up when
completed. Thus the Avork went on, and we did

chap, n.] Recollections. 95
everything as well as possible, making a capital
work of it, but when measured up the result may
be imagined ! The Inspector of course made us
the scape-goats, Avhich perhaps served us right for
being so easily gulled: I doubt, however, whether
it was more costly than other prisons, and it is
unquestionably a first-rate building.
I must in fairness confess that cost Avas our
weak point. This Avas not intentional, but re
sulted from a combination of circumstances. The
turmoil of competitions, crowding one upon another,
left little time for more than the roughest esti
mates, though we did employ a regular surveyor
upon them. Then the degradation of feeling as
to cost, from which the public was just emerging,
and our own ardent and sanguine ambition for
improvement, all tended in the same direction ;
yet I must confess to a certain carelessness on
this point, which was decidedly reprehensible.
Where there is no competition, an architect can
gradually raise the ideas of his clients, from the
undue lowness which so generally characterizes
them, but in the case of a competition there is no
chance of this, and this is one reason Avhy, as
soon as I was able, I was rejoiced to kick down
the ladder which had raised, but at the same time
endangered, me.
From about the time of my marriage, I had
resumed my Gothic sketching to as great an
extent as my hurried life permitted, and the
subject of restoration soon forced itself upon my
attention. I think the first work I had to do
with of this kind was the refitting of Chesterfield
church, and here I cannot say much for my sue-

96 Sir Gilbert Scott.
cess. Galleries Avere forced upon me, contrary to
the Avish of the Incumbent, Mr. (afterwards Arch
deacon) Hill. I found the rood screen to have
been pulled doAvn and sold, but we protested, and
it Avas recovered.8 I recollect that there existed
in the church, as I found it, a curious and beautiful
family peAV or chapel, enclosed by screen-Avork, to
the Avest of one of the piers of the central tower.
There are two such chapels now in St. Mary's
church, Beverly.9 This v/as called the Fol-
jambe Chapel, and Avas a beautiful work of Henry
VIII.'s time. What to do with it I did not know,
it Avas right in the way of the arrangements, and
could not but have been removed.1 I at last deter
mined to use its screen work to form a reredos, and
if I remember rightly, it did very well. I mention
these unimportant matters merely for the sake of
adding that the " Ecclesiologist," in alluding to this
work some years afterwards, when they had begun
somewhat to run me down, for purposes of their own,
coolly stated that I had had the rood screen sold,
and that it had only been recovered by the exertions
of the parishioners ; and that I had converted the
material of a Jacobean screen into a reredos, a
fair specimen of their criticisms, Avhen they had
an object in view. My real initiation, however,
into the various considerations affecting the sub
ject of restoration was the work undertaken at
8 There is no such screen now in Chesterfield Church. —
Ed.
0 They have also disappeared. — Ed.
1 This is a good typical example of what is misnamed " re
storation." The removal of ancient remains to make way for
" necessary " modern arrangements, would be more naturally
termed " innovation." — Ed.

chap, n.] Recollections. 97
St. Mary's, Stafford. The circumstances attend
ing the commencement of this work were so re
markable that I Avill briefly detail them.
I had, about 1838, made the acquaintance of
Mr. Thomas Stevens, then assistant poor-laAV
commissioner for the counties of Stafford and
Derby. Mr. Stevens was the only son of the
rector and squire of Bradfield, near Reading, and
as chairman to the union there, had so successfully
taken up poor-law work, that he Avas persuaded to
join the commission. He was a thorough man of
business, a sound churchman, and a lover of Gothic
architecture. His head-quarters were at Lichfield,
Avhere he attended daily service at the cathedral,
so far as his journeys permitted, a lusus natures
surely amongst poor-law commissioners.
I first met him at Sir Thomas Cotton Shepherd
Shepherd's, near Uttoxeter, when we formed a
lasting friendship ; and he shortly afterwards got
me to meet him at Bradfield, to consult together
as to the restoration of the church, a work which
was happily postponed till ten years later. The
next year he married, was ordained, and took the
curacy of Keele, in the county of Stafford.
In 1840 or 1841 he wrote to me, telling me that
Mr. Coldwell, rector of Stafford, was most anxious
to restore his church, if only he could get funds,
and suggested my writing to him, offering to make
a survey and report, Avith a view to facilitating
that object. I did so, and made my report, but
Mr. ColdAvell's appeal was but faintly responded
to. Mr. Stevens, being about to return finally to
Bradfield, I visited him on his. last day at Keele,
and Ave went together to Stafford, where we found
H

98 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Mr. Coldwell in despair of ever effecting his
wishes. On my return to town I found a letter
from Mr. Stevens, telling me that, on reaching
Bradfield, he had found a letter awaiting him from
a friend, whom he did not yet name, asking his
advice as to the appropriation of a sum of 5000/.
devoted to church building or restoration, and
expressing a preference for Staffordshire.
Mr. Stevens had already recommended St.
Mary's, subject to the condition that another like
sum should be raised by public subscription. The
challenge was accepted, and the sum quickly raised,
so that the despair of the rector Ayas suddenly
changed to joy and thankfulness.
The principal parishioner was, and is, my truly
excellent friend, Mr. Thomas Salt, the banker,2
Avhose brother-in-law is the Rev. Louis Petit, since
so Avell-known by his architectural Avritings, and
his truly marvellous sketches.
Mr. Petit raised some considerable objections
to certain parts of my proposed restorations, on
the ground of their not being sufficiently conser
vative, and wrote a very important and talented
letter on the subject.
I differed from him, not in principle, but on the ap
plication of the principles to the matter in question.
I wrote stoutly, and I think Avell, in defence of my
own views, and the correspondence was, by mutual
agreement, referred to the Oxford and Cambridge
Societies, who gave their verdict in my favour. ^
The whole case is given in the account by me
of the restoration in Masfen's " History of St.
Mary's Church," to which I would specially refer.
2 He died a few years since. — Ed.

chap, n] Recollections. g9
Whether I was right or Avrong in my vieAvs I
am doubtful, but the result was a happy one, for
embedded in the later walling Ave found abundant
fragments of the earlier Avork, which enabled me
to reproduce the early English south transept with
certainty, and a noble design it is.
I employed, during the earlier part of this work,
the services of my now deceased friend, Edwin
Gwilt, son of old George Gwilt, the restorer of
the choir and Lady chapel of St. .Saviour's,
South wark. He was conservative to the back
bone, and AAdiere stonework had to be reneAved,
he went on. the principle of making every stone,
and even every joint of the ashlar, correspond to a
nicety with the old.
The pains Ave took in recovering old forms and
details were unbounded, and though too little
actual old Avork was preserved, I believe that no
restoration could, barring this, be more scrupu
lously conscientious.
The most serious practical work was the repair
of the central toAver, whose four piers had become
so crushed that they had to be nearly rebuilt, a
dangerous Avork, which it has since been my too
frequent lot to repeat, and a most unenviable lot it is.
Let me impress tAvo or three great principles
on the mind of those who have to undertake such
Avorks. I. Be assured that no amount of shore
ing can be too much for safety, no foundations to
your shoreing too strong, and no principles of
constructing it too well considered. II. Use the
hardest stone for your neAV work which you can pro
cure, and spare no pains in bonding it, and tying- it
together with copper. III. Be very slow in your
II- 2

roo Sir Gilbert Scott.
operations, excepting at critical junctures, where
the very contrary is necessary; be careful in
your principle of moveable supports, as you cut
aAvay old work ; set every stone in the very best
cement, and run in the core with grout of the
same material. IV. Key up Avell at the top, and
leave your shoreing a long time after the work is
done, and then remove it with the greatest care.
V. (Though more properly first.) Tie your tower
Avell together Avith iron before you begin, and take
especial care of your foundations. Above all,
have a thoroughly practical clerk of the works,
neither too young, nor too old.
The shoreing must be all of undivided timbers,
and often of four or more such balks, bound and
bolted together into one by irons.
The fittings of St. Mary's Avere not very suc
cessful ; but, as a Avhole, it was beyond question the
best restoration then carried out, nor have many
since been in the main much better. My valued
friend, Mr. Jesse Watts Russell, of Ilam Hall, Avas
a munificent patron of this Avork ; and this led to a
friendship which has lasted unshaken ever since.3
I may here mention that during the years I
have been chronicling, our poor-laAV work still
continued ; but that we Avere erecting a very
different class of building, usually in the Eliza
bethan style, and in many cases Of really good
design. I may mention especially those at Dun-
moAv and Billericay In Essex, Belper, Windsor,
Amersham, and Macclesfield. Some of these,
indeed, went almost as much too far in this
direction, as the earlier ones in meanness.
s He died some few years after this was written. — Ed.

chap. ii. J Recollections. 101
We competed frequently, too, at this time, for
county lunatic asylums, though Avith less success.
The vigour with which my partner entered upon
these, and his assiduous energy in obtaining the
opinions of practical authorities on questions of
arrangement, Avere beyond all praise. These
competition drawings Avere usually prepared at his
private house at Kennington, where he gave up
all his sitting-rooms, and peopled the house with
clerks, Avho had all their meals together, and had
half an hour for a good game in his grounds,
every other minute of the day being devoted to
the closest Avork, in which he, and often I, joined
as zealously as any of them.
Meanwhile, my church practice rapidly in
creased in quantity and in merit. I recollect with
regret one Avork of restoration to which I devoted
my very best energies, but which was rendered
abortive by one false step.
Designs Avere advertised for, for the restoration
of the beautiful chapel of St. Mary on Wakefield
Bridge ; and I devoted myself with the greatest
earnestness to the investigation of the relies of its
destroyed detail. I .Avas seconded by Mr. Burli-
son, then clerk of the works to the church at
Chesterfield, and by examining the heaps of
dibris in the river wall, &c, we discovered very
nearly everything ; and I made, I believe, a very
perfect design, illustrated by beautiful drawings,
the perspective views being made by my friend Mr.
Johnson. My report I viewed as a masterpiece.
I succeeded, and the work was carried out, and
would, have been a very great success, but that
the contractor, Mr. Cox, Avho had been my carver

102 Sir Gilbert Scott,
and superintendent to the Martyrs' Memorial,
had a handsome offer made him for the semi-
decayed front, to set up in a park hard by. -He
then made an offer to execute a new front in
Caen stone, in place of the weather-beaten old
one ; and pressed his suit so determinedly, that,
in an evil hour, his offer Avas accepted. I
recollect being much opposed to it ; but I am
filled with Avonder to think how I ever was in
duced to consent to It at all, as it was contrary to
the very principles of my own report, in which
I had quoted from Petit's book the lines
beginning, —
" Beware, lest one lost feature ye efface," &c.
I never repented but once, and that is ever since.
The neAV front Avas a perfect masterpiece of
beautiful workmanship, but it was new, and, in just
retribution, the Caen stone is noAv more rotten than
the old work, which is set up as an ornament to
some gentleman's grounds. I think of this Avith
the utmost shame and chagrin.
During all this distracting period Ave lived in
the same house in Avhich my office was placed. I
fear it was Avrong towards my wife to subject
her to such disturbances, particularly as her health,
after the birth of my second son, was very indif
ferent. In 1844, however, we happily moved to
St. John's Wood, where my other three boys were
born. I have little recollection of the visits from or
to my relations at this time. It seems, to look
back upon, like a tumultuous sea of business and
agitation, leaving no time for the claims of natural

chap, n.] Recollections. iQ

o

affection, or of friendship, though I hope it Avas
not so bad as my memory seems, by its blankness,
• to suggest. We used, however, in most years, to
go to the sea-side, and on one of these occasions I
made my first continental trip of one single day. 1 1
Avas simply to Calais, where my sketch-book tells
'me I must have worked violently, for I made
many sketches.
At this time we were regular attendants at the
church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, where Sir
Henry Dukinfield Avas incumbent, and after leav
ing Spring Gardens, we continued to go there In
all seasons and Aveathers, till Sir Henry resigned
the living. We had the greatest respect and
affection for this excellent man, which continued
up to his death, and he was godfather to our
youngest child, Avho is called after him.
My wife made, in most years, long sojourns with
her parents at Boston, and my hasty runs down
there Avere a great relief and pleasure. Mr. and
Mrs. Oldrid were admirable people, most sterling
characters. A triple union had made our families
in every way one, and our mutual visits were
periods of great pleasure and happiness, as Avell
as of great advantage to my wife:
I may here mention that during this period the
Cambridge Camden Society, with many of whose
views I strongly sympathized, and who had been
at one time most, friendly, had suddenly, and with
no reason that. I could ever discover, become
my most determined opponents. My subsequent
success Avas, for many years, in spite of every effort
On their part to put me doAvn • by criticisms of the
most galling character. No matter how strenuous

104 S*r Gilbert Scott.
my endeavours at improvement, everything Avas
met by them with scorn and contumely. I be
lieve, though I did not know it at the time, that
this partly originated in a mistake. They had
recommended me to the restoration of a church in
Berks, and a parish opposition having been got
up against restoring the ancient and very fine
open seats, Archdeacon Thorpe, the President of
the Society (in whose archdeaconry it was situated),
Avent with me to a parish-meeting, to endeavour to
quell the opposition. His eloquence and archidia-
conal authority Avere alike unavailing, and the
farmers carried their point against him, to his no
small chagrin.4 I fancy that the members of the
Society vented their vexation upon me, though I
was as earnest in the cause as they, and that they
believed the adverse vote was to have been ac
tually carried into execution, whereas I had
watched my opportunity, and had effected by
default, what the archdeacon had failed to carry by
assault, and I had in fact gained my point to the
full, Avithout saying a word about it, so that I had,
in reality, a double claim upon their approval.
I suppose that I was not thought a sufficiently
high churchman, and as they fell in at the time
Avith my very excellent friends Carpenter and
Butterfield, they naturally enough took them
under their wing. This no one could complain
of : but the attempt to elevate them, by the syste
matic depreciation of another equally zealous
labourer in the same vineyard, Avas anything but
fair. I never Avould, hoAvever, publicly com-
1 The chancel.of this church I did not do. It was done
some years later by a local clerk of the works.

chap, ii.] Recollections. 105
plain, and my constant answer Avhen urged to
do so, was, " that those who are rowing in the
same boat must avoid fighting." I therefore bore
with their injustice patiently, chiefly grieving that
the leading advocates of so great and good a
cause should not act on principles better calculated
to recommend it to the moral perception of the
public. I think it right to mention these facts,
though it is many years since I have had any
cause to complain, and though I now number
many of the leaders of the Society among my most
esteemed friends. -I remember one amusing little
key to their line of conduct. They had criticized
one of the very best churches I had ever built (and
one in which all their principles were carried out to
the letter) in a way Avhich led to a remonstrance
from the incumbent, who pointed out glaring-
errors in matters of fact. The line of defence
they took Avas this, that as they had had nothing
on which to ground their critique but a small
lithographic view, the onus of any errors they
might have fallen into, did not lie with themselves,
but Avith the architect, Avho had abstained from
submitting his working plans/or their examination.
With all its faults, however, the good which the '
Society has done cannot possibly be over-rated..
They have, it is true, like all" enthusiastic re-*
formers, often pressed views, in themselves good,
too far, and their tendencies have at times been
too great towards an imitation of obsolete ritual
isms ; but in the main their work has been sound
and good. Their reprobation of bad work has
never been blameable, indeed at the present time,6
B About i860.— Ed.

106 Sir Gilbert Scott.
it is too mild by far. It is, I think, the duty of
such a Society to rebuke the atrocities of false
architects with unflinching courage. What I com
plain of is, their, attempt just at this period, to
crush those who were labouring strenuously in
the same cause, and the same direction with them
selves ; and that, with the sole object, so far as I
could ever ascertain, of the more easily elevating
others Avhom they viewed as more distinctly their
OAvn representatives. To expose the misdoings
of ignorance and Arandalism was their duty ; to
point'out the shortcomings of their fellow-labourers
would have been a kindness ; but to treat friends
and allies Avith studied scorn and contumely,
through a series of years, because they had not
sworn implicit allegiance to their absolute rSgime,
was discreditable to the sacred cause Avhich they
professed to make the object of their endeavours,
and ended in undermining their influence, through
•the obvious self-seeking it evinced ; thus damaging
the movement they otherwise had so ably ad
vocated. Even Pugin himself could not escape their lash,
his single sin being his independent existence.
It is vexatious to reflect that the vigour of the
Society, and its tendency to unfair dealing, seem to
have varied directly But it must be remembered
that it was then young and vigorous, was natu
rally somewhat intoxicated by success, and was
especially open to the constant temptation of such
bodies to rate the success of. the Society itself
above that of the cause, and consequently to
estimate persons rather by their loyalty than by
their merits.

CHAPTER III.
Having arrived at a point closely approaching to
what I view?1 as the most important era in my
professional life, I will offer a few observations
upon the position of the great revival of Gothic
architecture at this period (viz. about 1844), and
also as to my OAvn humble share in it, up to that
date. It is almost vexatious when. Ave consider how
great an event that revival really has been, to
recollect, at the same time, how unconscious one
felt of this fact during its earlier years.
I call these its earlier years, because I hardly
vieAV those which preceded 1830 (or even a later
date), as belonging to the period of the revival at
all. Writers on this subject are wont to talk
about Strawberry Hill, and a number of such base
efforts, as the early works of the revival. They
may be so in a certain sense, but one can scarcely
trace much connexion between them and the
work of its really vigorous period, and, as I per
sonally know little, and knew nothing, about them,
I will leave them wholly out of the question.
When I first commenced sketching from Gothic
buildings (which was about 1825, though I had
taken delight in them a few years earlier), I did

io8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
not in the smallest degree connect my feelings
tOAvards them Avith any thought of the revival of
the style. I think that a very base church at
Windsor, (putting aside the ludicrous "Gothic
Temple0' at StOAve, Avhich belongs I suppose to
the StraAvberry Hill type), Avas the first modern
Gothic building I ever saw. This was, I fancy,
about 1823,' and bad as it is, I recollect its giving
me some pleasure. On a visit to London the
next year I remember seeing the yet baser church
at Somers town, since celebrated by Pugin in his
" Contrasts." I do not think that this was very
gratifying to me, though, during the same visit, I
recollect seeing with extreme delight the restora
tion of the reredos in Westminster Abbey, then
in hand : that of Henry VI I. 's chapel had, I
think, been already completed. The great majority
of neAV churches were still classic, and I remember
that in 1826, Avhen my father had to rebuild his
church, the idea of making it " Gothic " was con
sidered quite visionary, nor am I conscious of any
practical object occurring to me while studying
Gothic architecture till many years after this time.
I did so, purely from the love of it.
A great deal is said, too, as to the influence on
the public taste of different publications, in leading
to the appreciation and the revival of mediaeval
architecture, and it would be unfair to ignore such
influence. I believe, however, that the effect was
really of a reciprocal kind. The natural current
of human thought had taken a turn towards our
own ancient architecture, and this led to its in
vestigation and illustration, while such investigation
1 The church was, I find, erected in 1822. — Ed.

chap. in. J Recollections. 109
and illustration in their turn reacted upon the mental
feelings Avhich had originated them ; so that, by a
kind of alternate action, spread over a series of
years, the mind of the public was, both awakened
to a feeling for the beauties of the style, and in
structed in its principles. So far as I was per
sonally concerned, my love of Gothic architecture
Avas wholly independent of books relating to it ;
none of which, I may say, I had seen at the time
when I took to visiting and sketching Gothic
churches. The first prints I had met Avith bearing
upon the subject (for I do not think that I read
the article) Avere in the " Encyclopedia Edinensis,"
where, under the head of "Architecture," Avere
tAvo or three engravings illustrative of our style ;
the west front of Rheims Cathedral, an internal
vieAV of Rosslyn Chapel, and a view of an Epis
copal church at Edinburgh. The latter, by-the-bye,
must have been a very early work (as it was about
1 823 y that I saw this print), and it was, I fancy,
rather in advance of its day. After this I saw
nothing tending in the same direction, beyond one
volume of Lysons' " Magna Britannia," till after I
had left home to read Avith my uncle in 1826, and
then what I saw was very slight, Storer's " Cathe
drals " being the choicest and dearest to my
memory. It must have been very long after
wards that I first became acquainted with any of
Britton's works.
So far, then, as my own consciousness goes,
books had little to do with the earnest stirring up
to a love of the subject which I experienced. I was
unconsciously subjected to the same potent influ
ence which was acting upon the public mind, and

1 10 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avhich Avas rather the cause than the effect of the
publications Avhich subsequently so much aided it.
Among the books which did most to aid the
revival in these early days was Pugin's (sen.)
" Specimens of Gothic Architecture." This,
though it first appeared in 1 821, came out in its
present more perfect form in 1825. Its great-
utility was that it set people measuring details,
instead of merely sketching, and its practical effect
was to lead architects, Avho attempted to build
Gothic churches, to give some little attention to
detail. The specimens given were mostly of late
date, but the spirit of the work, rather than its
actual contents, Avas its great value, and the several
volumes of " Examples " which followed carried on
the same feeling.
There can be no doubt that it Avas the share
taken by the younger Pugin in these works, and
what he saAV of their preparation, which stirred
up Avithin him that burning sentiment which has
produced such extraordinary results. I should be
disposed also to attribute to the first of these
publications a share in the merits of Mr. Barry's
Islington churches, which, with all their faults and
their strange commissioners' ritualisms, Avere for this
period Avonderfully advanced works. They were
going on while I Avas in my articles (1827-30),
and I doubt whether anything so good was done
(excepting by Pugin) for ten years later ; indeed,
in their OAvn parish nothing so good has been done
since. For myself, I can hardly say too much as
to the benefit derived from Pugin's " Specimens."
I found them at Mr. Edmeston's Avhen I was first
articled to him, and they at once had the effect of

chap. hi. J Recollections. 1 1 1
leading me to the most careful measuring, and
laying down with scrupulous accuracy, of the details
of the works I sketched. Indeed, the greater part
of my holidays Avas spent in making such detailed
measurements. AH thanks and honour then to
the older Pugin, however much our illuminati
may sneer.
So far as I was personally concerned, nearly
another decade had to pass before my studies
became practically productive. I followed up
sketching with more 'or less assiduity according to
circumstances, but still with little thought of its be
coming practically useful ; I still pursued it solely
from the love of it. Once during this period I,
for practice sake, entered into a competition,
and chose my favourite style. I have by me also
twO designs for gothic churches, which I made
with an idea of submitting them, as probationer's
drawings, to the Royal Academy. They have
some merit, though showing most extraordinary
notions of ritual. I have already said that church
architecture during this period .had gone back.
Barry's Islington churches were princely com
pared with those of this dark decade ; and my own
awakening attempts, from 1838 to 1841, were as
bad or nearly so, as the rest, pressed doAvn as I was
on the one hand by the intensity of the "cheap
church " mania, and on the other by an utter want
of appreciation of what a church should be.
From. this darkness the subject was suddenly
opened out by Augustus Welby Pugin, and the
Cambridge Camden Society. From that time on
to 1844 was tne great period of practical aAvaken
ing, and by the end of it the revival was going on

1 1 2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avith determined and rapid success. By this time
"shams" had been pretty generally discarded by-
all architects not hopelessly in the mire The old
system of solid and genuine construction had
generally been revived, and truth, reality, and
"true principles" were accepted as the guiding
stars of architecture; while a more correct ritualism
had been, so far as the opposition of party feel
ing permitted, to a considerable extent adopted.
Pugin's own works were, of course, limited (or
nearly so) to the Roman Catholic Church. Their
clergy had sunk fully as low as our OAvn in their
notions of ecclesiastical arrangement and design,
and he had much the same difficulties to contend
with as Ave had. - His success was Avonderful, for,
though his actual architecture was scarcely worthy
of his genius, the result of his efforts in the revival
of " true principles," as well as in the recovery
of all sorts of subsidiary arts, glass painting,
carving, sculpture, works in iron, brass, the pre
cious metals and jewellery, painted decoration,
needleAVork, bookbinding, Avoven fabrics, encaustic
tiles, and every variety of ornamental Avork, was
truly amazing. Amongst Anglican architects, Car
penter and Butterfield were the apostles of the
high church school — I, of the multitude.
I had begun earlier than they, indeed, Camber-
well church dates before their commencement ;
but as they became the mouth-pieces-— or hand
pieces— of the Cambridge Camden Society, while
I took an independent course, it followed that they •
were chiefly employed by men of advanced vieAvs,
who placed no difficulties in their Avay, but the
reverse ; while I, doomed to deal with the pro-

chap, in.] Recollections. 1 1 3
miscuous herd, had to battle over and over again
the first prejudices, and had to be content with
such success as I could get. The one, cast
seed only into good ground : the other, as luck
would have it, over the wayside, upon stony
ground, or among the thorns; and only now and
then, quite exceptionally, and by some happy
chance, upon a bit of good soil. Each was a
necessary work. Mine was unquestionably the
more -arduous, and was not, perhaps, the least
useful, though far from being the most agreeable,
while it led to thankless abuse from both sides.
I look back, however, upon my labours at that
time (1841-44) with some satisfaction, and believe
that they have in the main effected much good.
The circumstance which brought about a new
era in my professional life was this.
Late in the summer of 1 844 my attention was
called by a city friend to the advertisement for
designs for the rebuilding of St. Nicholas' church,
at Hamburg, which had been destroyed by the
great fire. My friend had been requested (though
quite informally) to induce one of. the English
church architects to enter the lists of this Euro
pean competition, and he fixed upon me.
Strange to say, I had not then seen anything of
continental architecture, excepting during part of
two days which I had spent at Calais. I at once,
however, made up my mind that the style of the
design must be German gothic, and that I must
without delay make this my study. I accordingly
set out on my first continental tour, and un
bounded was the enthusiasm with which I under
took it. I was accompanied by my brother John,

1 1 4 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and at first by a young laAvyer, my friend Mr.
Smith, and a young barrister, Mr. Cameron (both
long since departed).
Oddly enough, it never occurred to me that
France should be my first field of study ; I knew
Avhat had been written by Whewell, Petit, and
Moller, but I had not gathered this fact from
what they had said. I began Avith one of the
Avorst countries for pointed architecture, Belgium,
though to me it Avas then an enchanted land. I
visited with great delight Bruges, Ghent, Tournay,
Mons, Hal, Brussels, Mechlin, AntAverp, Louvain,
and Liege.
My companions were very agreeable, but I ex
perienced what every architect must feel Avho
travels with lay companions, the inconvenience
arising from the incompatibility of their objects
with his own. They had always " done " a place
before my Avork Avas Avell commenced, and had I
listened to their Avishes, I should have obtained
scarcely any advantage from my tour. As it was,
I worked very hard and got through a great deal,
but it Avas by fighting hard against adverse cir
cumstances. I would strongly advise architects to travel
only with architects, or even alone rather than
with lay fellow-travellers.
I got a fair day's work at Tournay Owing to a
great festival then going on, Avhich amused my
con-voyageurs, and at Hal I had a luxurious day
while they Avere visiting Waterloo. The pictures
we did enjoy in common, and certainly they are
a great source of delight in Belgian travel. In
some places one of my companions was set as a

chap, ill.] Recollections. 115
watch over me to see that I did not cause them
to miss the trains, and I was consoled by the
assurance that once arrived at Cologne, they would
give me as much time as I liked.
Leaving Belgium, we took the customary line
by Aix-la-Chapelle to Cologne. There my legal
companions had done everything by the end of
the first day, and I, nOAV out of all patience with
lay intervention, got up the next morning at four
or five and started off on my own hook to Alten-
berg, leaving them to take their own course while
I took mine, and arranging to rejoin my brother
a few days later.
I sketched pretty well everything at Altenberg,
to the very patterns of the glass, and I got a good
day at Cologne, on which I half worked myself
to death. I here found that I was in a great
strait, I could not make up my mind whether in
studying for my Hamburg design, I ought to
follow the semi-Romanesque, cf which Cologne
supplied such a field of study, or the " complete
Gothic" of the cathedral and of Altenberg. I
was not then aware of the French origin of the
latter style, or my decision might perhaps have
been different.
Leaving Cologne, I rejoined my brother at Bonn,
and proceeded up the Rhine, visiting Swartz, —
Rheindorf, Andernach, Laach, Coblentz, OberWesel,
Bacharach, Mayence, and Frankfort, and, my
brother's patience exceeding that of my lawyer
friends, I was able to work fairly. Passing Rema-
gen, I saw the little chapel then recently erected
at Apollinarisberg. Its architecture is bad, but I
was much interested by seeing the frescoes in
1 2

1 1 6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
course of operation, never having seen art of this
class before.
Near Zinzig, Ave passed a long procession of
priests and peasants Avhom, after a long puzzle
Avith our driver, we ascertained to be pilgrims
on their way to Treves, to pay their devotions
to the Holy Coat, then being exhibited. They
sang hymns as they Avent on their way, and were
accompanied from the village by the clergy and
people of the. place, who, after going a mile or
so to see them on their way, took an affectionate
leave of them and returned. We saAv another
party of pilgrims afterwards at Coblentz ; and an
English gentleman who had been to Treves, told
us that such was the vastness of the crowd that
it took him a whole day to get from his hotel to
the cathedral and back.
At Frankfort we Avere greatly interested by the
conversation of Dr. Schopenhauer, an old German
philosopher, who usually took, his meals at the
hotel at which we stayed. I think I never met a
man Avith such grand powers of conversation ; but,
alas, he was a determined infidel. I have since
met him twice at the same hotel : the last time
Avas as late as i860, Avhen I with some difficulty
dreAv him out into conversation, which deafness
rendered less easy than formerly, and I was quite
astonished at his brilliancy, and, but for his infi
delity, at the noble philosophical tone of his thoughts
and conversation. I meant to have sent him
some books on the evidences, &c, of Christianity,
but I forgot it ; and when I went to Frankfort
last year, and looked out for him, I found his
portrait hanging over where he used to sit,

chap, in.] Recollections. 1 1 7
betokening that he had departed. May it be
that his philosophy had previously become chris
tianized. My brother John Avas at this time in a tran
sitional state between medicine and divinity. He
had given up his first profession, and Avas keeping
his terms at Cambridge previously to entering the
Church ; and the long vacation being now nearly
over, he was obliged to hasten our journey. We
accordingly set off on a long diligence drive from
Frankfort to Hanover, which took us two days
and two nights, to the best of my recollection,
beside one night on Avhich we rested at Cassel.
I had a peep only at the exterior of St. Eliza
beth's church at Marburg, while breakfast was
going on. I certainly ought to have stopped, as
it was the most important church in some respects
that I had seen in Germany.
We spent a Sunday at Hanover, and the next
day went by rail to Brunswick, with which I Avas
very much pleased ; and then to Magdeburg,
whence we took a night journey by steamer to
Hamburg. Here my brother left me, and I stayed on to
get local information, and took a diligence journey
to old Lubeck, to my great delight, and thus
completed my tour.
On leaving Hamburg by steamer for London,
I struck out on the first morning of the voyage
my design for the church — I have the sketch
now — but a stormy sea soon put a stop to work.
The voyage took, I think, three days and four
nights, during most of which I was in bed ; and,
on reaching home, I was so ill as to be laid up for

1 1 8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
seA^eral days, during Avhich time, however, I Avas
enabled to complete my general design, on the
draAving out of Avhich all force was put, as I had
only a month left on returning to my office. The
style I chose was somewhat later than I should
noAv adopt, being founded rather on fourteenth
than on thirteenth century work. I thought at
the time that it was earlier. My journey had
enabled me to catch the general spirit of German
work at that period, though I afterwards found
that I had not clone so perfectly. My design Avas,
hoAvever, in the main a good one, and the draw
ings Avere admirably finished, all hands being put
upon them, though the best elevations Avere made
by Mr. Coe and Mr. Street, the last-named
coming out now for the first time, to my obser
vation, in the prominent way Avhich has since
characterised him. The drawings, which were
very large and numerous, were sent off by a
steamer, Avhich would, under ordinary circum
stances, have delivered them by the time pre
scribed ; but an early frost had stopped the
navigation of the Elbe, and they arrived three
weeks after the time I My agent, however, Mr.
Emilius Mliller, was indefatigable in his nego
tiations, and the delay was condoned.
When my draAvings arrived and were exhibited
with the rest, the effect upon the public mind in
Hamburg was perfectly electrical. They had
never seen Gothic architecture carried out in a
new design with anything like the old spirit, and
as they Avere labouring under the old. error that
Gothic was the German ("Alt Deutsch") style,
their feelings of patriotism were stirred up in a

chap, in.] Recollections. u9
wonderful manner. My design was to their
apprehension far more German- than those of any
of the German architects. Professor Semper, my
most talented competitor, had grounded his design
on that of the cathedral at Florence, and Heideloff
Lange, and others had made more or less of
failures, Avhile an English architect of the name
of Atkinson (the future Siberian explorer), then
living at Hamburg, who had made a poAverful
effort, had failed of making his design German.
Mr. Miiller kept me constantly supplied with ex
tracts from the newspapers, &c, which for the
most part advocated my design with enthusiasm.
One writer indulged in a poetical effusion, while
by another I was compared to Erwin von Stein-
bach. I subjoin extracts from two out of a multitude
of such papers in my possession. These must
have appeared within a few days of the arrival of
my drawings ; the second, I fancy, may have been
by the Rev. Pastor Freudenthiel, one of the
clergymen of St. Nicholas, who is Avell-known in
Germany as a poet.
From the. " Hamburger Neue Zeitung"~2^rd Dec, 1844.
Bauplane fiir die neue St. Nicolai Kirche. '
Von allgemeinstem Interesse ist gewiss die Ausstellurig der
39 eingelieferten Bauplane fiir die neue St. Nicolai Kirche,,von
besonderem Interesse fiir den Kunstverstandigeh aber, zu sehen
wie verschiedenartig und wirklich bunt die Combinationen
hier ausfallen, die historisch-architectonischen Elemente in den
Ideen oft nur restaurirt sind, so dass man den Mangel natiir-
licher Schopfungskraft, welche das Angelerhte und Ueberlieferte
beherrschen und vergessen machen soil, unmittelbar gevvahrt— <
wie die Manifestationen der Ideen oft selbst geschmacklos und
antichristlich sind, indem hier eine halbe Pagode, dort. ein
halber grieehischer Tempel zum Vorschein kommt Natiirlich

1 20 Sir Gilbert Scott.
aber fehlt es auch nicht an tiichtigen kernigen Anschauungen,
die wiirdevoll und edel aufgefasst sind, wie die unter No. 32,
"Das Werk und nicht derMeister" — No. 25, "Erhabenist
der B.aukunst Streben," etc., doch — " die Letzten werden die
Ersten sein!" No. 39, "Labor ipse voluptas" — wurde
durch den Frost zu Cuxhaven zuriickgehalten, und es ist die
Krone von Allen. Das Characteristische diirfte hier vornehmlich
sein : die reine Entwickelung des historisch-technischen Be-
griffes christlicher Baukunst in originaler Klarheit und Majes-
tat. Die Phantasie des Kiinstlers ringt hier gleichsam mit den
Monumenten der Geschichte und der Steg wird verherrlicht
durch seine saubere -architectonische Zeichnung. Solchen,
Miinster und man vvird ihn ewig bewundern in seiner Herr-
lichkeit ! — Auch darin lebt der Geist Erwin's von Steinbach.
From the " Nachrichten" January 2nd, 1845.
Ein Mauerstein zum Bauplane der St. Nicolai-Kirche mit
dem Motto : " Labor ipse voluptas."
Wie hast Du aufgebaut, Du wack'rer Meister,
So kiihn den Bau in Deineh Kunstlerplan,
Vernichtend jenen eitlen, leeren Wahn,
Das's deutsche Kunst mit uns'rer Ahnen Geister
Zu Grabe ging fiir alle kiinft'ge Zeit !
Hat Albion Dich vormals uns geboren,
Dich hat die deutsche Gothik auserkoren,
Als Herold ihrer Pracht und Herrlichkeit !
Das ist der Miinster, der mit heil'gen Schauern
In Strassburg fullet jede Menschenbrust ;
Das ist der Dom zu Coin, der heil'ge Lust
Erschuf, zu bauen jene macht'gen Mauern,
Die fromm der Ahn in alter Zeit begann,
Ein Engel musste lichtvoll Dich umschweben,
Als, Meister, Dein Gebild erstand aus schonem Streben
Das stolz und kiihn nun strebet himmelan !
Mein Hamburg, auf, zum allerschonsten Bunde
Erbaue solch ein Werk nach schwerer Zeit,
Dass staunen alle Volker ! Weit und breit
Durchdringe jedes Land die hehre Kunde,
Dass nun Sanct Nicolaus in lichter Pracht
Verherrlicht wieder unsers Hamburgs Mauern,
Dann wird der spiit'ste Enkel nimmer trauern
So lang der Thurm die Vaterstadt bewacht,

chap. in. J Recollections. 12 1
Dass frommer Glaube bei den Alinen schwand,
Dass nicht aus Nacht ein Gottestag erstand.
Ja, ihm verkiinden noch geweihte Sagen
In Liedern gross und hehr die fromme Kraft,
Mit der ein Gott begeistert Volk geschafic,
Als Armuth mit der Armuth sich verband,
Um Gaben mild aus ihren armen Handen
Durch langer Jahre Zeiten fortzuspenden ;
Bis schon vollendet jenes Werk erstand.
Es wird der Glaube einst zum sel'gen Schauen,
Die Hoffnung wandelt sich in Gottvertrauen,
Nur Liebe bleibt — Drum lasst uns ewig bauen
In jeder Freudenzeit, in schwerer Stunde
Ein jedes Werk auf ihrem reinen Grunde.
It must not, however, be supposed that all the
notices Avere as favourable as these, many Avere
so, and went very much into detail, and several
pamphlets appeared on the same side Some,
however, were written by persons favourable to
other styles, and to other architects, and were in
some cases violent in their opposition.
As it may perhaps not be uninteresting to know
the line Avhich at this time I took in my advocacy
of Gothic architecture, I will subjoin some extracts
from the paper by Avhich my design Avas accom
panied. " A strong feeling has for some years existed in
most parts of Europe in favour of the study and
careful, investigation of the principles of that
beautiful but long-neglected style of architecture
of which such glorious examples are to be found
in the ecclesiastical edifices of Germany, France,
England, and other northern countries. This
feeling, and the investigation consequent upon it,
has almost universally removed the absurd preju
dices of the last three centuries, Avhich, by making

1 2 2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the architecture of Greece and Rome the standard
for all other countries, hoAvever differing in climate,
manners, or religion, condemned as barbarous all
the indigenous productions of the countries in
habited by the Teutonic nations. A careful exa
mination, hoAvever, of these works which have
been so ruthlessly condemned has convinced every
inquirer that, so far from being barbarous, they
are the greatest productions of human art, the
most perfectly suited to the climate, manners, and
natural materials of the countries Avhere they exist,
and, above all, that as sacred edifices they excel all
other buildings in the appropriateness to the spirit
of the religion from which they have emanated.
The style of these exquisite buildings has a strong
and natural claim to be used for ecclesiastical pur
poses by the architects of all nations of northern
Europe, as being that style Avhich spontaneously
rose and developed itself among all the nations of
German origin under the peculiar influence of the
Christian religion. That this style did not owe
its origin or developement in any degree to the
particular influence of the Church of Rome is fully
shown by the fact that it never arrived at any
great perfection south of the Alps, that it Avas
there considered as a foreign style, and that its
extinction in the sixteenth century was commenced
by the efforts of the ecclesiastics at Rome, and
Avas carried out through the influence of Italian
artists. " It Avas natural that Avhen, after three centuries
of neglect, the beauties of our native architecture
began again to be appreciated, disputes should
arise between the different branches of the great

chap, hi.] Recollections. 123
Teutonic family for the honour of its first inven
tion. Warm and elaborate arguments have accord
ingly taken place : Germany, France, and England
have zealously pressed their claims, Avith more or
less success, according to the ingenuity of their
respective champions. The subject of dispute, it
must be confessed, has been unimportant, but, like
the study of alchemy, though fruitless in its imme
diate object, it has tended much to promote the
successful investigation of more practical and
important questions. These frivolous inquiries
have now merged into the practical and detailed
study of the principles of this noble style of archi
tecture, and questions as to its origin and its
inventors have given place to the more important
inquiry of how it can most, successfully be revived
and re-established. England has taken her place
among other nations in. the study and revival of
ecclesiastical architecture, and among others the
architect who has prepared the accompanying
design has made this the leading object of his
labours, and it is the opportunity afforded by your
liberal advertisement of preparing a design in
some degree worthy of the ancient models, to the
study of Avhich he has devoted' himself, that has
induced him to enter upon the present competition,
which he does rather for the delight he feels in the
subject than from any great hopes of success," &c.
Again, on the choice of the variety of pointed
architecture to be made use of,— *
"In tracing the history of an art which was
subject to continual and uniformly progressive
change it is a matter of considerable difficulty to
determine at Avhat precise period it had arrived

i 24 Sir Gilbert Scott.
at the greatest degree of perfection. The taste
of individuals may vary much on the merits of
such a question, and where every phase of that
art possesses peculiar merits and beauties of its
own, the feelings of the same person may be
subject to much change, according to the im
pressions produced upon the mind by the con
templations of specimens of different periods.
As, hoAvever, the gradual progression of eccle
siastical architecture in northern Europe com
menced with a style which Avas evidently bar
barous, but rose by degrees to the highest degree
of beauty and excellence, and as unquestionably
it afterwards became lowered and corrupted and
finally extinguished, It is clear that it must have
had a culminating point, and that there must be
one period at AA-hich it had obtained its greatest
perfection. To ascertain this point Avith accuracy
is an important object to those engaged in design
ing a church, Avhich ought not to be less perfect
in its character than corresponding works of the
best ages of art.
" From a very careful consideration of the
ancient churches of Germany, France, and Eng
land, the author of the present design has been
led to fix the end of the thirteenth century, viz.
from 1270 to 1300 a.d., as the period at which
the most perfect ecclesiastical architecture is to be
found.; very fine specimens are certainly to be
met Avith both earlier and later than these dates,
but still Avithin these limits appears to be com
prised the period of the fullest developement of the
style. That this Avas a marked era in the history
of church architecture Is proved by several cir-

chap, in.] Recollections. 12

o

cumstances in which it differs from other times.
The architects of the different nations of Europe,
in the first instance, imitated the later Avorks of
the Romans, but in the course of. time they re
modelled these into a style peculiarly their own,
which style is known by the name Romanesque,
Lombardic, or (though erroneously) Byzantine.
In the Avorking out of this change each nation
took its own course, and the architectural styles
resulting from this change widely differed in
different countries. During the twelfth century,
however, each began to introduce the pointed
arch, accompanied by other features novel to the
established manner. During the transition each
nation still took its own course. We accordingly
find the buildings of this period in Germany,
France, and England, , widely differing from one
another. Towards the end, however, of the
thirteenth century they appear, by a remarkable
coincidence, to have all arrived at the same point,
though reaching it by different routes. It is true
that each country still retained its peculiar taste
and characteristics, but the essential principles
and elements, at this period, more nearly coincided
than at any other, and from this point they seem
to have again diverged, till they at length differed
from one another as Avidely as before. Each,
though in different ways, departed from the simple
principles of taste, and introduced into their archi
tecture those fantastic and corrupted details, which
at length led to the extinction of the style, and a
return to the architecture of ancient Rome.
" Another peculiar feature Avhich marks the era
which has been named, is, that at that epoch,

126 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the ornamental foliage Avas in every instance
imitated from nature. The enrichment of earlier
buildings had been derived from classic antiquity,
but in the course of years had grown into a
new style, neither classic nor natural. At this
period, hoAvever, the artists fell back upon nature,
and Ave find all the foliage and ornaments of
that time to be copies of real leaves and flowers ;
while at a later date nature Avas again departed
from, and merely conventional forms again made
use of. The same distinctive features may be
traced in the sculpture, stained glass, decorative
painting, jewellery, and other ecclesiastical arts
of that period, Avhich will be found to evince a
purity of taste and. feeling never before reached In
the same countries, and not generally retained in
later times.
"A careful examination of the architecture of
this date Avill shoAV that It possesses in its most
perfect form all the peculiar characteristics of
pointed architecture, that it retains no trace what
ever of the objectionable features of former styles,
and that it is at the same time free from the
defects Avhich Avere subsequently engrafted upon
it. Every form is perfect and elegant in its
design, from the grandest features to the most
minute ornaments. Individual buildings may
have their own particular defects, but there is no
imperfection inherent in the style. It is equally
suited to the most simple and to the most mag
nificent structures, being susceptible of the greatest
simplicity Avithout becoming mean, and of the
utmost extent of decoration without the risk of
exuberance."

chap, hi.] Recollections. 127
I then go on to shoAv that it would be incon
sistent to imitate the local characteristics of the
old buildings in the immediate district, because
these arose from difficulties as to materials, &c,
which then existed, but have since ceased, recom
mending rather " To take advantage of the varied
beauties exhibited by German churches of corre
sponding style in general, than by those of a
particular district; and to endeavour so to treat the
subject as we may imagine that the ancient artists
would have done, if they had possessed all the
practical advantages Avhich can now be obtained."
I give these lengthy extracts, not from any
value they possess in themselves, but in order to
show the progress of thought upon such subjects
then attained.
The decision on the design Avas for some time
delayed ; and, during the interval, the mask of
concealed names Avas so completely dropped, that
my design Avas constantly spoken of as the
" Scottisch " design, arid I was enabled to defend
myself personally against some attacks made upon
it. At length' it Avas determined to call in Sulpice
Bolser^e, and ZAvirner, the architect to Cologne
Cathedral. The former could not personally
attend ; but he Avrote a sort of essay on the sub
ject, which was considered to coincide with my
own views. Zwirner, however, went to Ham
burg, and I was advised by my agent, Emilius
Miiller, to be there in case of being wanted. I
accordingly crossed from Hull, and arriving early .
on a Sunday morning, was roused from my slum
bers by the Indefatigable Muller, Avho had dis
covered that he was wrong in advising my

128 Sir Gilbert Scott.
presence. I had . accordingly to remain incognito
for the day, and the next morning to retire to
Liibeck, Avhere I remained for some days. As ill-
luck would have it, it was found out by my com-'
petitors that I had arrived ; and as Zwirner had
gone, with one of the committee, to spend the
Sunday at Liibeck, I had actually met him
(though unseen) on the road, which afforded a
fine card for the invention of a conspiracy. Of
this, however, I was ignorant, and I remained in
my retirement until I heard that the decision was
in my favour, and then returned to Flamburg. I
stayed there for a considerable time, to make
arrangements for commencing the execution of
the work. I went there again in September and
October of the same year, when a contract was
entered into for the foundations, and we formally
broke ground on October 8th, 1 845 (l.d.)
During this visit I made the acquaintance of
that admirable man, the Syndic Sieviking, the
founder of the celebrated Raumen Haus. I have
never met a more accomplished gentleman, or a
more charming and excellent man, or one of a
more elegant mind, or more refined feelings.
A difference of opinion had arisen as to
whether transepts should be added to my design,
omitting the second aisles. This alteration was
eventually carried. I may mention that I had
been studying German, though in a very moderate
degree, from the time that there seemed a
prospect of my success ; and that my assistant,
Mr. Burlison, had done so more successfully, and
had spent some time this year at Hamburg, in:
order to get up practical information. My clerk

chap, in.] Recollections. 129
of the works was Mr. Mortimer, a very talented
man, who had been engaged for me in that
capacity at several buildings, among which A\-as
St. Mary's, Stafford. Of this valued coadjutor,
and his untimely end, I shall have to speak
hereafter. I returned home by way of Holland, for the pur
pose of making myself acquainted with the use ot
trass or tarras in water cements. I visited on my
way Bremen, Osnabrilck, Miinster, and Xanten.
The latter contains an admirable church, which
had some influence on the maturing of the Ham
burg design. In Holland I visited Arnhem,
Utrecht, Amsterdam, Haarlem, and Rotterdam.
The journey from Hamburg to Xanten Avas by
diligence, as were most of my inland journeys
in Germany for some years later.
The information I obtained in Holland was
most serviceable, and was conclusive in favour of
tarras. I brought some of it home with. me, and
followed up experiments which were equally con
clusive in their result. The pains taken in
Holland on government works in the preparation
of mortar is truly amazing. I went into a shed
Avhere eighty people were employed ; they were in
four divisions, twenty facing twenty, all armed .
with a kind of hoe. The materials for the mortar
(consisting of trass and dry slacked hydraulic
lime) were placed in two lengthened heaps be
tween two twenties of men, who, at the word of
command from a kind of sergeant, commenced
mixing the ingredients in the most careful and
systematic manner. This done, the two ranks
shouldered arms, and a man ran through the shed
K

x 30 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avith a Avatering-pot, sprinkling a small quantity of
water on the poAvder, after which the mixing was
repeated as before. Again the aquarius ran
through, and again the mixing was repeated ; and
this went on till the mortar was reduced to a state
of paste, and no apothecary's salve was ever
better manipulated. The mortar is tried from
time to time by means of wedge-shaped bricks
stuck together, and the cohesive poAver tested by
weights in a scale hung to one of them, the. result
being formally booked by the clerk of the works.
The work upon Avhich they were engaged was a
fortification on the banks of the old Rhine.
There Avas a mighty cistern, elevated high above
the works, from which proceeded india-rubber
hose Avith brass nozzles ; every bricklayer having
the command of one of these, and directing the
jet of water against every side of every brick
before laying it, lest one particle of dust should
Aveaken the adhesion of the mortar.
About this time a constantly increasing desire
had grown up in my mind to terminate my
partnership Avith Mr. Moffatt. . My wife was most
anxious upon the subject, and was constantly
pressing it upon my attention, but my courage
failed me, and I could not muster pluck enough
to broach it. At length Mrs. Scott "took the
bull by the horns." She drove to the office
while I was out of town, asked to see Mr. Mof
fatt privately, and told him that I had made
up my mind to dissolve our partnership; He
Avas tremendously astounded, but behaved well*
and the ice thus broken, I followed up the matter
vigorously. This was during the latter part of

chap, hi.] Recollections. 131
1845, and at the close of the year an agreement
was entered into, -dissolving our partnership then
and there " de facto," but taking one year as a
year of transition, and delaying the actual gazet
ting of the dissolution until the close of that year.
Though Mr. Moffatt occasionally kicked hard
at this; I must do him the justice to say that he
behaved fairly and straightforwardly throughout*
We came to an agreement of this kind: we
valued the probable receipts of our several Works
and of outstanding bills, and divided the works
into three portions, one for myself, another for
Mr. Moffatt, (each taking our allotment " for
better or worse "), and a third to pay a debt owing
to our banker. This arrangement turned out
better for me- than for him, as his Avorks having
a certain amount of speculation about them, he
lost a good deal of the estimated value of some
of them. As, however, they were in their nature
and origin his own works, it did not -seem unfair
that he should stand the brunt of -this. The
year 1846 Avas to me a time at" once" of thank
fulness and of anxiety. I was most thankful to
be freed from a partnership which* with many
advantages, had become the source of much
annoyance ; at the same time it was " hard lines,"
after having been ten years in practice of the
most unprecedented activity, to have put by next
to nothing, and to have to set aside the proceeds
of many works to cover a debt, which was the
result of easy-going and bad management on my
own part, and of some extravagance on that of my
partner. My connexion with Mr. Moffatt. as will have

132 Sir Gilbert Scott.
been gathered from the statements made earliei
in this sketch, was by no means a premeditated
one. It had.groAvn up spontaneously and almost
independently of 'my will. People wonder, I have
no doubt, hoAV two persons, so contrary in their
tastes and dispositions, could have joined in part
nership, and blame my judgment in permitting it.
I have only to say, in reply, that I never thought
of partnership until it came about Avholly without,
and almost against my own will. Nor had I
any reason to think otherwise than favourably of
my partner. He Avas very talented, very practical,
and very industrious. Nor am I sure, with all its
draAvbacks, that I have not gained more than I
have lost by the connexion. My natural disposi
tion Avas so quiet and retiring, that I doubt if I
should have alone pushed my Avay. My father
used to be seriously uneasy on this head, and he
never believed that I could get on in the rough
world. Mr. Moffatt supplied just the stuff I was
wanting in. He Avas thoroughly fitted to cope
Avith the Avorld ; he saw through character in a
moment, and could shape himself precisely to the
necessities of the case and the character of the
people he had to do Avith. This enabled me,
through a sort of apprenticeship of ten years, to
learn to rough it on my own account. Strange
to say as time went on, he seemed gradually to
lose his power of acting Avisely. I had by that
time chalked out a practice for myself, wholly
different from that for Avhich he was fitted, and
at length I was enabled to separate from him, and
to keep my own practice, making over his own to
him.

chap, hi.] Recollections. 133
I was now a free man, but I had almost to beoin
life over again. I wrote a circular, Avhich I sent
far and Avide, publishing my separation to the
world. I almost wonder to think how readily
practice came to me in my single name; but
''Scott and Moffatt" had become so Avell known
as a nom-de-guerre, that it took very many years
to get rid of it altogether, and now at the end
of eighteen years I occasionally get a letter so
addressed. The fact is that we had made ourselves a name
such as few architects have ever made at our
age, and had done more perhaps than had ever
been done in the first ten years of architectural
practice. I fear we were disliked by our fellow-profes
sionals for our almost unheard-of activity and
success. This, however, was only the natural
jealousy of competitors, and I do not think that it
was founded on any just reason. Happily, I had
come to the determination to avoid competitions
for the most part, though without making any
resolution Avhich would debar me from them when
they seemed from special circumstances desirable.
I have the greatest reason to be thankful that my
subsequent practice has, for the most part, come to
me without competition and unasked-for, and that
this has freed me from much of that professional
jealousy which follows a frequently competing
architect. I do not, however, think that I could
have got into such practice without a long previous
course of competition, and I would not recommend
young architects, as a general rule, to try the
experiment.

134 Sir Gilbert Scott.
I Avas thirty-five years old in the midst of this
year of transition, and I recollect congratulating
myself on the old saying,-—
" Pie who ever means to thrive
Must begin by thirty-five."
From this time my life seems to have usually
run in so smooth a course that I hardly knoAV
what to say about it that is worth saying.
In that year (1846) I appear to have made two.
journeys to Hamburg. The first was in April : I
went via Calais, visiting Dunkirk, Bergues, Pope-
ringhe, and Ypres, to which place I had been.
directed by my dear friend Syndicus Sieviking to
study for the future Rath-Haus of Hamburg, for
Avhich he considered the Halles there as a most
suggestive model ; and highly delighted I Avas with;
it. I then went by Aix-la-Chapelle, Dusseldorf,.
Neuss, and by diligence across Westphalia to Min
den, whence I visited some of the quarries, situated
in a splendid country, which supply Hamburg ;
thence to Plalberstadt, and by Magdeburg, to
Hamburg, and returned by sea. The next journey
was in September. I went by sea, and on this
occasion, on September 24th, 1846, the first stone
of the church Avas laid in great state (L. D.). I.
returned by Avay of Brunswick, Hildesheim, and
Cologne, visiting stone quarries and sketching.
I ought to have mentioned that I had been
violently attacked in the " Ecclesiologist " for un
dertaking a Lutheran church. I wrote a formal
defence, to which they refused admission.
The following is the text of my defence thus
suppressed : — •

chap, hi.] Recollections. 135
" To the Editor of the 'Ecclesiologist.'
" Sir, — In your last number I find that you have
made some rather severe remarks upon me Avith
reference to the neAV church of St. Nicholas,
Hamburg. Flad these remarks been founded
upon correct premises, I should not for a moment
deny their justice ; but as this is far from being the
case, and as the natural inference from what you
say would be, that I was about to erect a church
for a community which disbelieved the most
essential doctrines of Christianity, and to dis
honour the symbols of our faith by using them
as mere decorations of a building which is to be
used by those who deny that faith, I think it
necessary to trouble you Avith a few lines to show
how unjust an impression your remarks are calcu
lated to make. .¦¦__.¦
" Now, nothing can be more manifest than the
injustice of attributing to any community opinions,
which, though possibly held by individuals pro
fessing to be its members, are directly opposed to
the authorized doctrinal standards of the com
munity itself, arid to do so, certainly but ill-
becomes any member of a church : like our own,
. which retains within its pale, and even within its
priesthood, persons professing almost every variety
of doctrine from the Romanist to the Socinian.
If "your principle was to be fully carried out, surely
no one could conscientiously build an Anglican
church, as such a building would in all probability
be used at one period or another by persons, who,
though belonging to the same communion, might
hold doctrines which he must consider to be little,
if at all, short of heresy. _..-'..

136 Sir Gilbert Scott.
" Now the position of the Lutheran body is in
this respect very similar to that of our own. Its
authorized tenets have generally, I believe, been
considered to differ but little from those of the
church of England ; Indeed, Avhere they chiefly
differ, the Lutheran doctrines have generally been
thought to approach nearer to those of the Roman
ists than do those of our own communion. On the
other hand, however, there are many professed
Lutherans, whose opinions are at direct variance
Avith those of the body to which they belong : but
are we to select the views of these persons, and
lay them down as the doctrines of their church ?
The fact is, that the class of religionists of whom
you speak, so far from being the genuine type of
their church, are, I have every reason to believe, a
small and constantly decreasing minority.
" Their doctrines (if such they may be called)
are not indeed the genuine offspring of Germany
at all, but had their origin in the philosophical and
infidel spirit which gave rise to the French revo
lution ; and I am happy to find that they are now,
for the most part, confined to a section of the older
ministers, and are almost universally repudiated by
the younger members of the community.
" Of the actual doctrines of the Lutheran church
it would be very much out of my place, were I
indeed able to do so, to speak in detail. As re
gards those, however, to which you particularly
refer, I may say, first, that wherever the confession
of Augsburg has been adopted, instead of explain
ing away the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, that
mystery has been held in exactly the same manner
as it is by the church of Rome, and by our own

chap, hi.] Recollections. 137
church, and the three creeds have been retained
in the form in which they are received by the
Western Church in general.
" On the subject of the Sacraments, it is well
knoAvn that they hold much stronger vieAvs than
many of the English clergy. Their views on the
Real Presence are too well knOwn to need remark :
and on the subject of Baptism they agree Avith
our own church, according to the strongest inter
pretation of its articles and offices. Luther, for
instance, makes such observations on the subject
as the following : — ' The laver of regeneration is
one that riot superficially washes the skin and
changes man bodily, but converts his whole
nature, changing it into another, so that the first
birth from the flesh is destroyed, with all the
inheritance of sin and damnation.' Again he
says, ' This (that is, the old man) must be put off
with all its deeds ; so that, being the children of
Adam, we may be made the children of God.
This is not done by a change of clothing, or by
any laws or works, but by a renascence and a
renovation which takes place in baptism.' Again,
'Those who extenuate the majesty of baptism
speak wickedly and impiously. St. Paul, on the
contrary, adorns baptism with magnificent titles,
calling it the washing of regeneration! Again he
speaks of the fanaticism of those who speak of
baptism as a mere mark, and adds that as many
as have been baptized have taken, beyond the law,
a new nativity, which was effected in baptism.
Surely no one, Avhatever his opinion may be on
this subject, can call this ' scoffing at regeneration \
and even Dr. Pusey, who is certainly not preju-

138 Sir Gilbert Scott.
diced in favour of the German reformers, speaks
with satisfaction of their retaining the ancient
doctrine of baptism, and of the clearness of their
perceptions on the subject. If we vieAV the
Lutheran community in the spirit of ecclesiologists,
Ave shall not, I think, deny them a large share of
praise as having preserved more of the ancient
fittings of their churches than any other, not
excepting the Romanists, and certainly not our.
selves. " Mr. Pugin remarks upon this in one of his
Avorks, stating that he could, when first entering
an ancient Lutheran church, hardly perceive that
it Avas in the hands of Protestants ; and again, in
his 'Glossary,' under the head of 'Tabernacle,'
he speaks of the fine preservation of one, and the
existence of several others in churches which are
in the hands of Lutherans, but of the demolition
of that in Cologne Cathedral, and the probable
destruction of that at Louvain by the Romanists.
Indeed; it is to churches which are 'occupied by
the Lutherans' that Ave must look for examples of
the movable fittings of mediaeval churches. While,
for instance, one party in our own church is search
ing, Avith but little success, for ancient stone altars ;
and another is much more successfully seeking for
judgments against new ones, the Lutherans quietly
and universally retain and use their ancient stone
high altars, and even the minor altars which are
not used are still preserved, so that most of their
large churches contain more specimens of ancient
altars than our reformers have allowed to remain
in our whole island. I know, for instance, a single
Lutheran church which contains upAvards of thirty

chap, in.] Recollections.

139

of them. But it is not alone the altars which
they have retained, but almost every accompani
ment of the altar : such, for instance, as the mao--
nificent triptychs, gorgeously decorated with paint
ings and imagery, which retain their places not
pnly over the high altars, but. in many instances
even over the small and disused altars in other
parts of the churches. Many of these are of the
most magnificent description and in perfect pre
servation, and several of them are frequently to be
found in a single church.
"Again, every high altar retains its ancient
candlesticks, not for ornament only, but for almost
daily use. The magnificent tabernacle, a feature
almost unknown in England, still stands by the
side of the altar, or forms a recess with richly-
decorated doors in the wall near to it. Figures
of the Blessed Virgin, of exquisite loveliness, still
Occupy the niches. . The rood-lofts often remain
decorated Avith splendid sculpture, or with panels
filled by most beautiful paintings of saints, or
pther Catholic subjects. Above, very frequently,
hangs the rood itself, never having been removed,
as in England, from its .place- . Pendant lights,
both for lamps and candles, often containing beau:
tiful niches and figures, still hang from the vault
ings, and ancient brass candlesticks are still
attached to the Avails ; paintings, needlework,
and, indeed, every kind of decoration are fre
quently to be met with, such as we retain hardly
a remnant of. They have, indeed, not only pre
served what is ancient; but, at periods subse
quent to the Reformation, have added multitudes
of new decorations, particularly paintings of Scrip-

1 40 Sir Gilbert Scott.
tural subjects, often in vast numbers, though of
course partaking of the general decay of art
common to the period ; but still showing that the
fanatical dread of such decorations Avas unknown
among them, and a feeling that the ' teaching of
the Church ' should be displayed upon its walls.
In the present instance there has been, as you
state, a dispute as to the proper style to be
adopted for a church : one party favouring, not
as you say, a pagan temple ; but the style of
the Romanesque period in Italy, and the other
the German style of the thirteenth century. The
latter having prevailed, it is only common justice,
after the manner in Avhich you have thought
proper to speak of them, to inquire a little into
the grounds which have led them to this de
termination ; and, for this purpose, I cannot do
better than refer to one of the pamphlets which
has been published on. the subject, and you will
find that the author treats the matter precisely on
the same principle as you would do yourselves,
and carries out the details of christian symbolism
in a spirit which you could not but approve,
though you might not go with him in all his
details. " After treating at great length on the unsuit-
ableness of all other styles for a christian church,
he proceeds to lay doAvn this general axiom, that
' The oiitAvard building of stone should present
an image of the spiritual Church of Christ,' and
after some interesting remarks upon the spiritual
edifice — particularly on the threefold grace, of
Light and Life and Love, imparted by Christ to
his Church — and also on the promise of Christ to

chap, in.] Recollections. 141
be present Avith it in the Sacraments, and in the
preaching of the Word, and in prayer, he pro
ceeds, ' The place now for the assembling of
Christians for the public Avorship of God is the
material church, this as a work of the christian
congregation which is itself imbued Avith the Life
of Love in the Light of the Gospel ; and must, in
conformity therewith, bear witness to the same
threefold grace. The outward fabric must itself
present an image of the Light and Life and Love
which are the essential characteristics of the
Christian Church. Does not the Apostle say of
the christian congregation, "Ye are the temple
of the living God, as God hath said, I will dwell
in them and walk in them." Thus will we also
demand of the house of the congregation, that as
a christian edifice it may present itself as a temple
of the living God, in which the Spirit of God may
dwell and walk.'
"He then states that such a work have our
fathers achieved, ' or much rather,' he adds, ' may
we say, has" the Spirit of God itself erected;' and
that 'in the same spirit in which the Apostle says,
" Ye also, as living stones, are built up a spiritual
house," have also our fathers breathed into the
inanimate stones a new life, and built them up
into a spiritual house of God ; so, therefore, may
we justly say of such a building, as the Apostle
. Paul did of the Christian Church itself : " Ye are
God's building, and are built upon the foundation
of the Apostles and Prophets, Jesus Christ Him
self being the chief corner-stone, in Avhom all the
building, fitly framed together, groweth into an
holy temple in the Lord." '

142 Sir Gilbert Scott.
"He next . proceeds to give a general outline
of the manner in which the symbolism of church
architecture is expressed, commencing Avith the
prevalence of the cross from the very foundation
of the church, to the heaven-aspiring points of its
steeples. The frequent use " of the cross as the
form of the massive foundation of the church, he
considers to' be an emblem of the Rock upon
which the Church is built ; and, from thence, he
carries out the principle, not only where it is
palpably intended, but eA^en through the details
of the architecture, where, though the intention is
not evident, the principle of the cross is constantly
recurrinof. " He then adverts to the prevailing upward
tendency of every feature in a Gothic building,
following it out from the loAver features to the
' steeple, which, with the glance of the eye, draws
also the heart unchecked to - the cross above, and
seems as' the leader of the choir to exclaim, 'sur
sum corda )' and to hear from the whole congre
gation of pinnacles around the echo, ' habemus ad
Dominum.' " He speaks of the clustered pillars as emblems
of brotherly love, each helping to bear the other's
burden, and each assisting the other in its upward
striving, till all meet in the heaven's vault above.
' As the aim of all is the vault of heaven, so the
soul of all is the free spirit of love — nothing ser
vile is to be seen, no architrave checks with its
oppressive burden the upward striving, every-1
thing, it is true, bears and serves, but it is the
service of free love.'
"It is needless to go through' the details, but

chap, hi.] Recollections. 143
they all show the same general spirit and inten
tion. I will, however, quote a few passages to
illustrate the spirit of the writer more fully. After
remarking that the symbolical allusions of Gothic
architecture may be traced through a thousand
features, but all in unison with the whole, and all
bearing witness to the same spirit : * But the
festive garment and ornament is first put upon
Such a building by the hand of sculpture and
painting, As the christian spirit strives to em
brace and to penetrate all spheres of life, so the
Gothic building draAVS all arts into its service.
The christian church has become what it is in the
course of the historical developement of the king-*
dom of God upon earth. This historical develope
ment then, together with all the branches of the
earthly creation, are presented in a Gothic church,
and more particularly in statues, reliefs, paintings
&c. There Ave -see the whole creation, from the
beginning to the last day, Moses and the Prophets
and the Kings of the Old Testament. - The
holiest place is occupied by the Lord of Lords,
the King of Kings, and around Him are the
Apostles and Evangelists; more -distant are: the
martyrs and fathers of the church to the latest
period, with the representatives of the worldly,
but protecting poAver, emperors, kings, and princes.'
He then shoAVS how every kingdom of nature is
made to bear its part in symbolizing the kingdom
of grace, and he adds — -' The richest fulness of
sculpture abounds in the. wide portals, as if in
vitingly pointing towards rich and blissful trea
sures of the Spirit which are contained in the in
terior of the building. The revelation of God is

144 Sir Gilbert Scott.
most evidently set forth in a Gothic minster, &c,
&c.' " He closes this branch of his subject by re
marking that the same system may be carried out.
in many other Avays ; ' for as the spirit of Chris
tianity is a living one, the symbolization of
christian art must be infinitely various.'
' I Avill only notice one other point, Avhich is the
earnest manner in Avhich this writer urges the
position of the font near the entrance of the
church. ' Here placed,' says he, 'it reminds and
admonishes each person, on his entrance, of his
baptismal vow, which he has once solemnly con
firmed, as bound in covenant Avith his Lord and
God. There in the sight of the pulpit, and In
the direction toAvards the altar, ought the font to
stand, that here it may hold our sight directed,
both to the Avord of the gospel and to the sacra
ment of the altar, that by means of these, we may
obtain that forgiveness Avhich, through the journey
of life from our baptism to the partaking of the
altar of the Lord, we so continually stand in
need of.
" ' The Avhole course of the christian's life lies
betAveen the sacrament of baptism and that of the
altar. As he receives baptism at the entrance
of life, so would he desire at his exit from the
same to receive the Lord's Supper as the latest
Viaticum.- The font, therefore, should take its
place at the beginning, as the altar at the termi
nation, of the whole building.'
" I Avill add but one more quotation. ' Without
pious faith, Avithout Avarm love, and a heartfelt
devotedness, never, and noAvhere, was anything

chap, hi.] Recollections.

M5

truly great or holy accomplished. Such a living
faith is, however, not an exclusive privilege of
(Roman) 2 Catholicism. Do we protestants, there
fore, at the present day wish to erect houses of
God as great and noble as those of our fathers ?
then must we build up ourselves onwards and
onwards, as living stones into a spiritual house, a
temple of the living God. Unless endued Avith
life and light from . above, we cannot perceive
the sacred glory which beams around Gothic
architecture. Without these our heart remains
dead, a cold rock against the floods of faith and
of love ; but by means of these the stone having
received life, bears a mightily convincing Avitness
that of these stones God has raised up children
to' Himself.'
" Such have been the arguments, and such the
tone of feeling, Avhich have led the citizens of Ham-
. burg to select, as you say, the style of a ' Gothic
cathedral,' rather than that of a pagan temple.
" Now, let me ask, are persons capable of such
sentiments, to be treated as heathen men or as
infidels, and to be denied the very externals even
of Christianity ?¦ Much rather, should we not
rejoice to find among them such warmth of feeling,
and such depth of sentiment, backed as it is by a
noble liberality, which it would be well for us, if
we had more of amongst ourselves, and which,
considering the awful calamity from which they
are but just recovering, reflects the greatest credit
upon their christian feeling. Lastly, may Ave not
fairly hope that the practical carrying out of such
* The word "Roman" is not in the original ; it was inserted
by my father.— Ed. L

146 Sir Gilbert Scott.
sentiments may be made a means of stirring them
up to still more elevated zeal, and leading them
to restore that ancient discipline, Avhich has been
of late years but too much neglected, and to
remedy all those evils which we, as members of
the church of England, cannot but deplore ?
" I am, sir,
" Your obedient servant,
" George Gilbert Scott.
"July 30th, 1845."
The next year, I visited the Saxon Switzerland
in search of stone quarries, and went on to Prague.
Indeed from that time, I was in Germany nearly
every year, though as yet, I remained ignorant of
France. In the autumn of 1847, while at the lakes with
Mrs. Scott, I received intelligence of my appoint
ment as architect to the refitting, &c, of Ely Cathe
dral, which opened out before me a new field. It
was from the excitement produced in my mind by
Dean Peacock's description of Amiens Cathedral,
which he had visited that autumn, that I Avas led,
as late as the end of November, to make a short
run OA^er to France, chiefly to Amiens and Paris.
My eyes Avere at once opened. What I had
always conceived to be German architecture I
noAV found to be French. I thoroughly studied
the details of Amiens, and those of the Sainte
Chapelle, which . bore most . closely on my pre
vious German studies, and I returned home with
a wholly new set of ideas, and Avith many of
my old ones dispelled. It seems curious that
I should have been twelve years in practice,

chap, in.] Recollections. 147
before I became acquainted with French architec
ture, yet I was the first among English architects,
as I believe, to study it in detail in any practical
way, and with a practical intention. In 1848, the
annus mirabilis, my tour was from Hamburg to
Bamberg, Nuremberg, Strasburg, Freyburg, and
Oppenheim. So deserted was the continent by
Englishmen that year, that I travelled ten days
without seeing one, or hearing our language
spoken. I was at Frankfort at the time of the
German Parliament, when. I spent a Sunday after
noon in writing a letter to my friend Reichen-
sperger, Avho was a member of it, on the necessity
of founding the revived German Empire on a
basis of religion. I remember saying that the old
empire had been so based, and had stood a thousand
years, and that if the new one were not so, it would
inevitably fail.
The next morning I went (by appointment with
him) to see the sitting- of the parliament. I found
them in a state of perfect uproar and confusion,
and ' with difficulty learned, that it was owing to
having just received intelligence that Prussia had
signed an armistice with the Danes without ask
ing their leave. A fortnight later this turmoil cul
minated in the murder of several of the members,
and the overthrow of the attempted revival of the
Holy Roman Empire. Among the friends of this
period, I may mention Herr Reichensperger, M. .
Gerente sen., Herr Z wittier, Dean Buckland, and
Lord John Thynne.
The most important works to be noted since
1845,3 are the following .:— -Bradfield Church ;
3 Up to the year 1862, or thereabouts. — Ed.

148 Sir Gilbert Scott. '
Worsley Church, Avhich was begun Avhen I Avas in
partnership with Mr. Moffatt ; St. Mary's, Not
tingham, which was finished by him ; Watermore,
near Cirencester ; Weeton, near HareAvood ; Bil-
ton, near HarroAVgate ; Aithington House, York
shire ; the restoration of the churches of Ayles
bury, Newark, and Nantwich, and the designs for
the Cathedral of St. John, NeAvfoundland. Also
neAV churches at West Derby, Liverpool ; Hol-
beck, near Leeds (a special Avork); Sewerby, near
Bridlington, where difficulties arose from the
fads of my employer; the restoration of E lies-
mere church, and the rebuilding of St. George's,
Doncaster; additions to Exeter College, Oxford,
and the new chapel there ; the new churches
at Haley Hill, Halifax, and on Ranmore
Common, near Dorking. Then followed the
competition for the Rathhaus at Hamburg, and
that for the Government offices in Whitehall ;
the restoration of Hereford, Lichfield, Salisbury,
and Ripon Cathedrals. Of civil and domestic
buildings, I will here mention the houses in Broad
Sanctuary, Westminster ; Mr. Forman's house at
Dorking; Mr. Manners Sutton's, near Newark;
Sir Charles Mordaunt's, Walton Hall, Warwick ;
and Mr. Sandbach's, near Llanwrst ; the Town
Hall at Halifax, which came to nothing; the
Town Hall at Preston, and Brighton College.
And I also carried out several semi-classic works,
among which I will name the chapel at HaAvk-
stone ; the remodelling of St. Michael's, Cornhill ;
Partis College, and the chapel of King's College,
London. In 1848 I read the first paper I had written for

chap, in.] Recollections.

149

a public meeting, excepting, by-the-bye, one on
the origin of the stone of which Stonehenge is
composed, written about 1836, for the then exist
ing Architectural Society, but Avhich I could not
muster courage to bring forward.
My paper Avas on the truthful restoration of
ancient churches, and it was read before the archi
tectural and archaeological society of the county
of Bucks, at Aylesbury. It was a someAvhat im
passioned protest against the destructiveness of
the prevailing restorations, and was preceded by
an address from the Bishop of Oxford (Dr. Wil-
berforce), in which (probably to propitiate some
loAV-church dons), he took almost the contrary
line, inveighing against popish arrangements, &c,
&c. I was so irate at his paper that my natural
timidity vanished, and I gave double emphasis to
all I had Avritten.
The bishop, however, had the better of me, for
a rood-loft in the neighbouring church of Wing,
which I had been for some time defending against
threatened destruction, was forthwith pulled down,
asking no more questions, and the bishop's address
was appealed to as the authoritiy- I cannot resist
a wicked joke apropos to this case, which had
been made shortly before in the same town. I
had been called in to report on the central tower
of the church, and had found it to be very
dangerous. At a dinner to which I was invited
on this occasion, an obtuse old cleric wisely re
marked, '.' What a mercy it was that the tower did
not fall during the bishop's, visitation." "Not
at all," replied a witty barrister, " not at all,
I'd match Sam to dodge a falling church with

150 Sir Gilbert Scott.
any man," arid reverence for. the episcopal bench
did not prevent a general burst . of laughter, ex
cepting perhaps from the excellent cleric. While
upon Aylesbury, I must tell a good joke of another
kind. It happened that the vicar had been long
annoyed by the church clock striking tAvelve while
he Avas reading the communion service, and that
very Aveek the sexton had completed an ingenious
contrivance to prevent the disturbance. His
scheme Avas to fasten the clapper up, by pulling
a Avire Avhich reached clown into the church, and
Avhich, Avhen in action, he fixed to a hook Avhich
he had driven into a pew beneath the tower.
When the hour of trial came, the clock made
violent spasmodic efforts to strike tAvelve, and at
every abortive stroke, It lifted up the corner, of
the crazy old pew, and let it doAvn again. The
congregation, fresh from the alarm caused by my
report, came to the instinctive conclusion that the
tower Avas coming down, and, emulous of the
character given to their diocesan, rushed from the
supposed falling church en masse.
My paper was repeated at Higham Ferrers,
before the Northamptonshire and Bedfordshire
societies, and I published it in 185Q, accompanied.
by a number of fragmentary scribblings. — a per
son Avho appears in print for the first time, having
usually a number of miscellaneous arrears to pro
vide for. It Avas dedicated to good Dean Peacock,
whose friendship had become one of my greatest
sources of pleasure.
As I have since become a confirmed scribbler,
and, as I believe, I have more reason to be satis
fied Avith the papers I have written in the way of

chap, hi.] Recollections. i^i
business than with those written later for public
reading, I will refer to a few reports Avhich may
be of interest, although some are already named/
My first report on St. Mary, Stafford, and the
correspondence with Mr. Petit on the same
church ; my report on the chapel upon the bridge
at Wakefield ;. on Ely Cathedral ; on St. Peter's
and St. Sepulchre's churches,- Northampton, in the
papers read before the society there ; a report on
Westminster Abbey made for Mr, Gladstone
about 1855 or '56 ; reports on several cathedrals,
Hereford, Salisbury, Worcester, Ripon, &c. ; and
one, on the royal tombs (though I do not now
agree to its recommendations) ; on Gloucester,
Lichfield, and St. David's cathedrals, several re
ports ; on the priory churches at Brecon, and
many others. See also four lectures read at the
Architectural Museum, five at the Academy, one at
Leeds, and one at Doncaster (a paper on Old Don-
caster church) ; tAvo papers read at the Institute of
British architects, and one before the Architectural
association. See also an early letter to the Eccle
siologist about St. Stephen's Chapel, a subject on
which I had got up a great agitation.
In 1849 I was, Avholly unexpectedly, appointed
architect to Westminster Abbey; the appointment
having just been resigned by Mr. Blore. This
was a great and lasting source of delight. I at
once commenced a careful investigation of its
antiquities, Avhich I have followed up ever since,
and the results of Avhich I have frequently com
municated viva voce to meetings of societies, &c,
* It is hoped to publish in a collected form the most important
papers, reports, &c, of the character here referred to.— Ed.

I =.2

Sir Gilbert Scott.

on the spot, and, more recently, in a written
form. I also devoted much time to the similar
investigation of the Chapter-house, the results of
which I have frequently exhibited. .
My communications in the early period of my
appointment Avere chiefly with the Dean, Dr.
Buckland, though also with Lord John Thynne,
the Sub-Dean. Dr. Buckland was excessively
jovial and amusing, though it was clear that he
was Avearing himself out by his desultory, though
indefatigable, way of attending to business. No
one Avas denied him, on whatever subject he
called. I have known him, after seeing people at
the Deanery for hours together, on every imagin
able subject — practical, scientific, and visionary —
run up to the roof of the Abbey with me ; and,
after scampering over every part, suddenly recol
lect that he had had no breakfast, although he
had come from I slip, and it was tAvo o'clock.
Could it be Avondered that his mind should give
Avay under such a regimen ?
His last sermon was on the occasion of the
thanksgiving for the cessation of the cholera, and
his text was, " If the prophet had bid thee do
some great thing, Avouldest thou not have done it ?
How much rather then, when he saith unto thee,
Wash, and be clean." In the course of the ser
mon he quoted the seventeenth article, as against
our poor, that they had given themselves up .to
" wretchlessness of most unclean living."
Under Dr. Buckland I restored to its place the
beautiful iron grille to Queen Eleanor's monu
ment, -Avhich had been removed in 1823; I also
restored the grille of the tomb of King Henry

chap, hi.] Recollections. 153
Vth, Avhich. had beert broken up into a thousand
pieces, and lay scattered in " the Old Revestry."
We also newly capped a great number of the
flying buttresses, and completed the eastern
pinnacles. During the long period of the poor Dean's ill
ness, Lord John Thynne most ably filled his place,
and considerable works were carried on. Among
others, I may mention the neAv choir-pulpit ; the
enclosure of the choir from the transepts, which
had been left open when the choir had been
refitted under Blore; the iron sanctuary screen
and altar-rail ; some ameliorations in the lantern
above ; the stained glass in the south clerestory of
the choir, and in the north transept ; also the re
opening of the ancient entrance to the dormitory
(now the library) ; arid the completion of the
vaulting of the vestibule to the Chapter-house,
which had lost two bays, and one half of which
was walled off. I also introduced the use of a
solution of shell-lac, with which Ave have gone on
gradually indurating all the internal surfaces.
This was first applied to the royal tombs, and
promises to stereotype the Avork in its present
condition for an indefinite- time.5 Other extensive
practical repairs have also been effected.
During this time the new houses and gatehouse
in Broad Sanctuary were erected, under an act
5 This process, which has proved perfectly successful in the
interior of the Abbey Church, was tried as an experiment in the
bay of the cloister which aligns with the entrance of the Chapter
house. As to its success in this case, under conditions inter
mediate between those of external and internal architecture, I
am myself very doubtful.

154 Sir Gilbert Scott.
of parliament for the improvement of this part of
Westminster. My communications with Lord John Thynne
have always been of the most agreeable kind,
and I believe I may number him among my
best friends. Through him I have had Avorks
placed in my hands by the Duke of Buccleuch,
and the Earls of CaAvdor and HareAvood, besides
others. The Abbey to me has been a never-failing
source of interest, though sometimes of annoy
ance, OAving to the little appreciation which
exists of the value of the remains of the ancient
monastic buildings, and the necessity in some
instances of destroying objects of antiquity in
order to comply with pressing practical wants.
On the whole, however, I have done much to
preserve and bring to Adew such objects. Prefer
to my published paper, called " Gleanings from
Westminster Abbey," as containing notices of the
majority of these discoveries. About 1854 I was/
requested to make a formal report to the Sub-
Dean (with a view to its beirig forwarded to Mr.
Gladstone) on the general state of the Abbey. I
do not think I have a copy of this, but it ought
to be preserved as a public document of some
interest and value. The nave pulpit is a recent
work for Avhich the funds were mainly provided
by Sir Walter James.
The name of James reminds me of my most
talented and excellent friend, the Rev. Thomas
James, Avhose death we have had very recently to
deplore. I made his acquaintance about 1846 m
Northamptonshire, when he Avas one of the secre-

chap, in.] Recollections. 155
taries to the Architectural Society. His knoAV-
ledge and judgment in all matters relating to
church antiquities were of a high order, and he .
¦was for some tAventy years the life and ,soul of
that, the best of the local societies. This society
has counted among its active meinbers, besides
Mr. James, the Rev. Ayliff Poole, Rev. E. Harts,
home, E. A. Freeman, Esq., the Rev. Lord
Alwyne Compton, and other excellent ecclesio-
logists and antiquaries. Mr. James Avas a most
amiable and zealous man, and an excellent writer.
He wrote many articles for the Quarterly Revietv,
amongst others one on Northamptonshire, He
has been one of my best friends for some eighteen
years. He died of a cancer in the liver this last
autumn, 1863, at about fifty-tAvo or three years
of age.
, In 1848 my friend, the Rev. Thomas Stevens,
^commenced the restoration, or rather the partial
rebuilding and enlargement, of his church at
Bradfield, Avhich had been in contemplation.
some ten years previously. Though executed
so long since, I still view it as one of my best
works.' Mr. Stevens is a man of very strong
views and will, a detester of everything weak,
mean, or unmanly. As a natural consequence
of this disposition, he took a very determined
liking to the transitional, or what we usually called
the "square abacus" style. In this preference,
as a matter of taste, I strongly concurred, though,
as a matter of theory, I held with the use of the
early decorated as the point of highest perfection
in the style generally. I elaborately discussed
the question, shortly after this date, in a paper

156 Sir Gilbert Scott.
attached to my " Plea for the faithful restoration
of ancient churches," from which it will be seen
how I hung hack upon the "square abacus"
variety. Many Avere the friendly and jocose dis
putations Ave had on the point. I was always
willing- to be beaten, as this gave me an excuse
for using a favourite, though, as I thought, not
theoretically correct style. Mr. Stevens got to
employ the term "square abacus" as a moral
adjective, used in the sense of manly, straight
forward, real, honest, and' all cognate epithets,
and "round abacus" for what Avas milder, "ogee"
being used in the sense of mean, weak, dis
honest, &c. This drilling probably made me
ready at a later time to fall in with the French
system of using the square abacus irrespective
of date or of other details. At an intermediate
period I made use of the transitional style, using
it in conjunction with tracery, and. with a certain
amount of natural foliage (Avithout reference to
French types) as a fair developement on eclectic
principles. The period over which the work at
Bradfield church extended was a time of. great
pleasure, oAving to my constant and most friendly
communication with Mr. Stevens. He is perhaps
the most valued friend I have had, a thoroughly
staunch, firm character, a thorough man of
business, of undaunted courage and determina
tion, and a strenuous follower out of whatever
he undertook. Some years later he founded, in
connexion with the church of Bradfield, St. An-
dreAv's College, a school which has had a wonder
ful run of success, OAving to Mr. Stevens' admirable
and courageous management of it. Of the build-

chap, hi.] Recollections. 157
ings of .the college I do not claim to be the
architect ; it was not built out of hand, but greAv
of itself, bit by bit, as it was wanted, each part
being planned by Mn Stevens, helped a little by
myself or by my clerk, Mr. Richard Coad. . The
hall is the part I may chiefly claim as my own.6
A direct result of my connexion with the col
lege was my appointment as architect to the neAV
church in the Isle of Alderney, its founder, the
Rev. J. Le Mesurier, having resided at Bradfield.
This church is also in the " square abacus " man
ner. I must say that this is still the style I, on
the whole, most delight in, though it is no doubt
in some respects imperfect, and I am inclined to
think that, even relinquishing the Gallic mania,
which has for so long had possession of our minds,
a legitimate style may be generated by its union
with later developements.
In 1 85 1 I joined my friend, Mr. Benjamin
Ferrey, in a short tour in Italy. We met at
Berlin and proceeded by the Saxon Switzerland
and Prague to Vienna. Here we gave a day to
St. Stephen's, with which I was most agreeably
surprised. We went, partly by rail, partly by
diligence, to Trieste, and thence by steamer to
Venice. My special recollections of this early part of
my journey are first, the affected . delight, of the
hotel-keeper at Berlin at seeing me ; my vanity
accepted it (inwardly) as a tribute to the architect
of St. Nicholas at Hamburg, but, unluckily for
8 The stained glass in its western windows is one of the
earliest works in this material designed by Mr. E. Burne
Jones.— Ed.

158 Sir Gilbert Scott.
my self-love, he proceeded to tell me that I was
the greatest of English poets ; and I found that
he took me, or pretended to do so, for Sir Walter
Scott. The next is Ferrey's depression of spirits
at the dulness of the country in north Germany,
and his sudden delight at reaching the Saxon
Switzerland.. He seemed as if he would jump
out of the carriage Avindow. We were amused,
in passing through the suburbs of Dresden, to see
a Avell-knoAvn incumbent of Westminster, in plaid
trousers, black tie, and a wide-a-wake, sitting
swinging his legs on a balk of timber by the road
side, smoking a cigar. Oh, tell it not in West
minster! The fourth incident related to Ferrey's
OAvn Avide-awake, Avhich persisted in blowing off his
head, while crossing the Simmering pass outside a
droschky, Avhich at length threw the Styrian driver
into such convulsions of laughter that he fell off
the carriage, but cat-like came dOAvn on his legs.
In crossing the Adriatic, I was delighted at the
first evidence of a southern climate, in the vast
tunny fish, Avhich folloAved our course, ever and
anon leaping far out of the Avater, and pursuing us
again as swiftly as before.
At Venice, all was enchantment ! No three
days of my life- afford me such rich archaeological
and art recollections. We both worked hard,
and did much. I here met Ruskin, whom I
kneAv before, and Ave spent a most delightful
evening Avith him. On this occasion I made
the acquaintance of my valued and now lamented
friend, Sir Francis Scott, whose friendship I kept
up until his premature demise last autumn, 1863.
At Venice I also made three other valuable

chap, in.] , Recollections. 159
acquaintances, Mr. Gambier Parry, of Highnam
Court, David Roberts, and Mr. E. W. Cooke.
We urged Roberts to take Vienna on his way
home, Avhich gave rise to two noble pictures
of the interior of St. Stephen's. My impres
sions of St. Mark's were stronger than I can
describe. I considered it, and still continue to do
so, the most impressive interior I have ever seen.
The Venetian Gothic, excepting the ducal palace,
disappointed me at first, but by degrees it greAv
upon me greatly. Ferrey was enraged at it, and
I could continually hear him muttering the Avords,
"Batty Langley," Avhen he heard it spoken favour
ably of. We both, however, joined heart .and soul
in our devotion to the ducal palace, and spent
much time in sketching its details. The Byzantine
palaces also attracted my attention a good deal,
especially the Fondaco dei Turchi. Unhappily
Want of time led us to leave Torcello and Murano
unvisited. From Venice we went to Padua. -Early in the
morning I looked out into the twilight to see if
anything in our line was visible, when Avhat Avas
my delight to see a splendid Gothic domestic ruin
close behind our hotel, and what my disgust at its
soon turning out to be a sham, painted upon the
back wall of the yard. I called Ferrey andplayed
off the trick successfully on him, and was next day
paid off by him in kind at Vicenza.
We worked tremendously hard at St. Antonio,
and at the Arena chapel, and great Avas our delight
in both. The next day Ave went to Vicenza and
Verona. The latter place . charmed us beyond
measure, and we worked very hard for a day and

1 60 Sir Gilbert Scott.
a half, and thence proceeded to Mantua, where
among other things I made precisely the same
sketch of the tower of the cathedral which Street
made the next year. I had done the very same
by the tower of St. Zeno at Verona. From
Mantua we went by Modena to Bologna. I
ought to have mentioned that we met Avith An
thony Salvin the younger, who accompanied us
and interpreted for us. Ferrey and I tried a little
speculative Italian on our OAvn account at Bologna,
asking an elderly, gentleman of benignant aspect
Avhere Ave should find the church of San Stefano.
He, seeing that Ave had exhausted our knoAvledge
in the question, made no reply, but, taking one of us
by the button, he led us silently through two or
three streets, and, conducting us into the very
middle of the church, shook hands Avith us both in
dumb show, and departed. San Petronio struck
us much by its vast proportions and wonderful use
of brick, though this is internally concealed by
AvhiteAvash. From Bologna Ave proceeded to Flo
rence. Again Ave had three days of the purest
delight. I worked violently to the last day,
timing myself strictly to the Avork I Avas to do
every hour of the day ; and at last, to my intense
disgust and dismay, forgot San Miniato. Next to
my three Venice days, these at Florence occupy
the choicest corner of my art recollection.
Thence Ave went to Sienna, and had the hardest
three hours' Avork in my life, and the pleasantest,
It Avas really too bad to hurry in such a manner,
but Ferrey was in fits at the idea of crossing the
Alps in the snow, and we had reached the end of
October. We spent one working day and a Sun-

chap, hi.] • Recollections. 161
day at Pisa, again Avith unalloyed delight, and
again Avorked hard and got through much. Here
we met with a young English architect, who had
the happy knack of giving offence to the police
authorities, and great was our dread of the effects
of his conversation, as overheard by the Austrian
officers, who crowded every cafe. We escaped,
though Ave afterwards found that our .friend had
been arrested at Verona for sketching the fortifi
cations. I had encountered Austrian soldiers
throughout nearly the whole of my journey ; even
Hamburg that year was garrisoned by Austrians,
and from Saxony to Tuscany they were con
tinuous. We were greatly struck by their fine
persons and equipments ; but when Ferrey, as Ave
were crossing from Trieste to Venice, was describ
ing them ecstatically to an old English officer just
returned from India, the reply he received was, —
"Aye, but if they ever go to war Avith the French,
you'll see how the French will walk into them,"
— and so we have seen, eight years later.
I am hurrying over the architectural part of our
tour, but to go into particulars would be endless,
and the buildings are too well known to need it.
We were, suffice it to say, delighted, and Avorked
as hard as men could do from morning to night.
We usually breakfasted by twilight, to get every
hour of the day for hard Avork. I only regret that
we were so chary of our time, and did not stay
longer. We went from Pisa to Genoa, and the snow-
had already come, and had covered the Carrara
mountains most gloriously. I shall never forget
looking back upon them as We Avalked up the hill
M

162 Sir Gilbert Scott.
at Spezzia in the morning, and seeing them again
radiant in fiery glory in the last rays of the setting
sun. I never saAv, nor since have seen, anything
more magnificently splendid. In a feAV minutes it
had vanished into cold grey.
Of Genoa my recollections are of chilling cold,
Avarmed only by my enthusiastic delight in the
western portion of the cathedral, both within and
Avithout. I have Avritten my impressions of this in
a paper given in the appendix to my work on
" Domestic Architecture." It is the best Gothic
architecture I saw in Italy, and I am convinced
it is the Avork of a French architect, or of an
Italian fresh from France, though it is carried out
in more than all the exuberance of coloured ma
terial peculiar to Italian art.7
The fear of snow led us to pass through Pavia
without stopping, and to spend but a day at Milan.
Haste, alas ! Avithout good speed, for the snow
overtook us at Como, and Ave had to cross the
Alps after all, through six feet of snow, and in
sledges (i. e. deal boxes nailed on ash poles) with
some twenty men to dig a Avay for us, and nothing
to be seen but snoAv and focr.
In going by diligence from Como to the pass,
one of our horses jumped over a precipice. I was
asleep at the time, but Ferrey, who saw it, woke
me up in dismay. Happily the traces had broken
7 This work should be compared with the north and south
portals of the west front of the cathedral of Rouen. A compari
son of the two works leads to the conclusion that both were
executed by the same artist, or guild of artists, and that the
originators of both were not Italians, but northern Frenchmen.
-Ed.

chap, hi.] Recollections. 163
and let him go, but a tree caught him, and we
dreAV him up again by ropes.
On our return (which was all in the fog) we
looked in at Freiburg, in Breisgau (which I had
seen three years before), and were much charmed.
We Avere shown over by an old acquaintance
of mine, the commissionaire whose quaint English
books and letters had before amused me, and
whose Avorthiness had interested me in him.
On our journey home we made the acquaintance
of, I believe, a nobleman from the neighbourhood
of Leghorn. He Avas going to London, and thence
to Paris. He was a most conversational man, and
not afraid to proclaim himself to be one of the
most timid of his race. His greatest dread was
lest there should be an imeute during his stay
at Paris. He called on Ferrey and myself in
London "-pour prendre conge"," and set off for
Paris, Avhere, on the very morning after his arrival,
occurred the celebrated "coup d'itat." We heard
of him no more.
In spite of all the violence now indulged in,
against every lesson learned south of the Alps,
I must say that I gained very -much by this
journey, and much desire to repeat it. I was
convinced, however, that Italian Gothic, as such,
must not be used in England, but I was equally
convinced, and am so still, that the study of it is
necessary to the perfecting of our revival, and I
have detailed my impressions on this head in the
paper already referred, to. What, however, with
the folly, on the one hand, of men who adopt
Italian Gothic, Avith all its purely local peculiarities,
and, on the other, of those Avho, from a mere rabid .
m 2

164 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and unintelligent prejudice, condemn unheard any
one Avho thinks that any practical hint can. be Im
ported from Italy, one is compelled to abstain from
making much use of any lessons one has learned
there. I trust this double folly will in time be

OUto-TOAVn.

This year the Great Exhibition had taken up
much of my attention. I had had a model pre
pared of the church at Harnburg, Avhich occupied
a A_ery conspicuous place in the nave ; perhaps the
finest of Mr. Salter's models.
I had also a restoration prepared of one end of
the monument of Queen Philippa. This had taken
a very long time to Avork out by the most careful
study of the original. I had during the previous
summer been constantly giving snatches of time to
it, and as the niche Avork was all gone, excepting
some detached, fragments preserved in the Abbey,
and the parts immured in the adjacent monument
of Henry V., I had obtained leave to make inci
sions into the base of that tomb, by Avhich means I
brought to light the whole design, including two
niche-figures and one exquisite little angel, one
of the many Avhich adorned the tabernacle-work.
I had to Avork at this by the help of candles and
looking-glasses. When engaged one day with
Mr. Cundy, the Abbey mason, on this work, the
thought suddenly occurred to me that some of the
lost portions might have found their Avay into the
Cottingham Museum. I suggested this to Mr.
Cundy, and as that collection was at the time for
sale, he went and searched, and at length found
one of the large canopies and other fragments on
the chimney-piece of Mr. Cottingham's office.

chap, hi.] Recollections. 165
After some months, they Avere recovered, and all
(with the fragments before mentioned) refixed in
their places. It was said that Mr. Cotringham
had bought them, thirty-five years earlier, from the
Abbey mason. The restoration of the end was
executed by Mr. Cundy, mainly at his own cost.
The figures were by Mr. Philip, and the coloured
decorations by Mr. Willement. It is now in the
South Kensington collection, and is the property of
the architectural museum.8
I had some other things in this exhibition, but
my great interest was in Pugin's court. The last
time I saw him was there, on the occasion of the
opening. How little did I think how soon that
burning light was to be extinguished I Had I
known this, how anxiously should I have striven
for more intimate acquaintance !
During this year, Mr. Cottingham's museum
being for sale, I wrote a letter in the Builder,
urging its purchase by the Government, as the
nucleus of a collection of mediaeval specimens
for the use of carvers arid others. This Avas
Avithout avail, but it originated the architectural
museum. I had a call, in consequence of my
letter, from a strange person, Mr. Bruce Allen,
who told me that he had long had a plan
of the same kind in connexion with a school
of art for art Avorkmen. After my return from
Italy he pressed the matter, and invited to a
'tReeting a number of architects, to whom he pro-
j|psed his scheme, chiefly for the school of art.
After several meetings, it was determined to
establish an architectural museum, and to allow
" It is now in the architectural museum in Westminster.— Ed.

1 66 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Mr. Allen to' carry on his school of art as a prL
vate speculation of his OAvn within the museum, to
which he Avas to be curator. The matter went
on but sleepily for some months, when I deter
mined to take it into my own hands, and nail my
flag to the mast. I accordingly Avrote private
letters, and sent circulars to every one I could
possibly think of, begging both annual subscrip
tions and donations to a special fund for starting
the collection. The labour I gave to it was
immense ; I called on all such people as seemed
to need it, and frequently over and over again.
The number of times I wrote and called on Mr.
Blore, without getting in. reply one word or one
penny, Avas amazing. Street discouraged it, as
tending to copyism. Butterfield gave very cold
support. Poor Pugin was just laid by. I never
theless obtained liberal support, got up a good list
of annual subscribers, and some 500/. in dona
tions. Specimens poured in from all quarters (not
ahvays good ones) ; I lent nearly the whole of my
large collection, and employed agents and work
men all over the country to get new casts. M.
Gerente acted as my agent in France, and he got
us an excellent lot of casts. Later on Ruskin
gave, or lent us, his Avhole collection of Venetian
casts, and some very fine French ones. Much of
Cottihgham's museum came to us, and before long
Ave had formed a very wonderful collection.
We had taken a very extensive and most quaint
loft, in a wharf at Cannon Row, Westminster,
which Ave soon completely filled. There Ave used
to have lectures in the midst of our specimens.
There Ruskin has poured forth his most telling

chap, hi.] Recollections. 167
eloquence. There we held annual conversaziones,
when 500 or 600 persons were presided over in
the cock-loft by the prince-like Earl de Grey, and
were addressed Often by some of the first men in
the country ; but, above all, here were our carvers
taught their art from the best ancient models, and
our students acquired a degree of skill and taste
in the draAving of architectural ornament Avhich
had never before been reached, nor has (since the
removal of the museum) been retained. These
were the days of our pride, and I confess I even
now feel a pardonable exultation when I call to
remembrance the share I took in bringing about
such noble results. No movement ever made in
our day, had equalled this in its effects both upon
workmen and students. Our cock-loft was the
centre of their artistic study and improvement,
and to myself and others engaged in the work it
was a source of constant and almost daily delight
and interest. During my journeys I was ever
looking out for objects of art, whose representa
tion might enrich our collection ; and even in the
gardens, in the fields, or by the seaside, the very
leaves and flowers seemed to connect themselves
with our art-scheme, and to suggest plans for illus
trating all such productions as would lend sugges
tions to art.
The vision was, however, soon clouded.
Funds failed; I had allowed my enthusiasm to
outrun our finances, and a heavy debt stared
us in the face. We made an appeal for aid to
the Prince Consort, and a deputation, consisting
of Earl de Grey, Mr. Clutton (the Hon. Sec),
and myself, waited on his Royal Highness to

1 68 Sir Gilbert Scott.
state our case. He received us graciously, and
promised and gave aid, becoming also oui
" patron." He took occasion, however, to read
us a not very complimentary lecture on the state
of architectural education in this country, Avhich
he described as contemptible in the extreme. It
Avas clearly a ricotto of one of Mr. Cole's, being
the key to his own course in always employing
builders instead of architects. There was much
truth in Avhat he said, though the true result
should have been a strenuous movement to im
prove the artistic education of our profession,
rather than to employ in our stead, and cry up
as our superiors, builders and military engineers,
Avho make no pretence whatever to jesthetical
training. I might, had dates coincided (of which
I am uncertain), have replied that, defective as
was the training of English architects, there
stood before his Royal Highness two of them,
Avho, having in three several instances accepted
invitations to compete in foreign countries with
architects from all Europe, and for buildings
of first-rate importance, had in each instance
carried off the first prizes, and that two of these
European competitions had been in his own
country, and the third in France, while in tAVO
at least of them (one in each country), the highest
authorities had been consulted, or had taken part
in the decision.
We were referred by the Prince to Mr. Cole
and Mr. Redgrave, Avho took up the case with
some favour, and met our committee to arrange
joint action. The result was an annual subscrip
tion of 100/. (Avhich they were not pledged to con-

chap, in.] Recollections. 169
tinue), on condition of the free admission of the
students of their school of art. This lasted, how
ever, but a single year, 1855. South Kensington
was then but in embryo, and nothing could be
permitted elseAvhere. Accordingly, Avhen Ave
applied in person for the continuance of the sub^
scription, Mr. Cole told us that, their schools being
noAV about to be removed, our collection would
cease to be available to them, and the payment
must consequently cease. He then delicately
suggested that if Ave were to change our venue,
and petition for a grant of space in their new
building, rent free, it might be favourably en
tertained, and we were shown on a plan of the
building a noble gallery which might be at our
service, with attendance, lighting, warming, &c,
gratis,— " All these things will I give thee, If thou
wilt fall down and worship me." The gallery
was to be fitted up for us, and the collection re
moved and re-arranged at the public cost. Never,
in fact, Avas hook better baited for hungry fish.
The suggestion was laid before the committee.
There Avere those who, like Laocoon, suggested
fears of the Greeks, even when in so generous a
mood. In fact, Ave all secretly felt that our fate
was sealed. The Syren voice was understood,
but could not be resisted; stern poverty constrained
us to the shore. Meanwhile, when they saAv that
we nibbled, the bait was gradually and studiously
reduced. Our wrath was great, but our poverty
was greater, and at last the compact Avas signed,
with the fullest consciousness that we were
doomed to be engulphed ; I had written the word
before I recollected one of the epithets of Mr.

1 70 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Cole, " the modern Ingulphus." It is now about
eight years since Ave removed to South Kensington,
and I can truly say that I have never felt any
satisfaction in the museum since. There followed
continual and systematic encroachment, the- re
sistance of which was deemed a personal affront,-
to be avenged by further encroachments, and, as
a climax at last, our refusal of some absurd pro
posal was made an excuse for our receiving notice
to quit, the joint consequence of our having done
the work Ave were invited for, and of their know
ledge that, as Ave could never get other premises,
our collection was at their mercy. Our capitula
tion and our making over the collection on loan
was followed by its removal and re-arrangement
Avithout our leave or knowledge. All this, how
ever, would be as nothing were it not that our
students Avere frightened aAvay by distance and
red tape, and the beneficial effects of the collection
thus seriously reduced.
These annoying circumstances have been, I
confess, much mitigated by the noble collection
brought together under the same roof by the
department, and the first-rate art-library since
added to it, so that I am ready to condone all
past offences, and noAv recommend all art students
to lodge near South Kensington, and to avail
themselves of its unprecedented advantages for
the pursuit of their studies.
In 1853, the great parish church of St. George
at Doncaster was burned down. Ferrey had re
fitted the old church, and I thought that Ave should
be appointed joint architects, as he proposed, and
I was Avilling to accept, but, owing to some local

chap, in.] Recollections. 171
differences, this arrangement was negatived, and
I Avas appointed singly.
I did all I could to bring them to what had
been suggested by Ferrey, but in vain.
My first anxiety on undertaking this great work
Avas to ascertain whether any part of the ruins
could be worked up into the new church. I found
this impossible. I then devoted my attention to
the restoration, on paper, of the old church from
its ruins and fragments, and in this I met Avith
great success. Mr. Burlison stayed there several
Aveeks and thoroughly overhauled everything. We
traced out the whole history of the church, which.
we found to be a skeleton of transitional early
english, gradually overlaid with different ages of
perpendicular work.
I read a paper on the result of these investiga
tions before the Oxford architectural society,
which is published in Jackson's history of St.
George's church.
The next question related to style. The toAver
was a noble work in early and bold perpendicular,
and as its entire design had been recovered, I
was anxious to reproduce it. The question then
arose whether I ought to make the rest of the
church coincide with it in style. Yorkshire con
tains much of the best early perpendicular, e. g.
at York in the Minster, at Beverly Minster (in
. the east window and the west end), at Bridlington
(in the west front), and at Howden (in the Chapter
house). I was well acquainted Avith all these of
old, but I determined on a systematic revisiting
of them With a view to forming a deliberate
opinion. My conclusion was that, noble as these

172 Sir Gilbert Scott.
specimens are, and excellent as are their details,
their great merits arise from their similarity to
the preceding style, and that we had better adopt
that earlier style at once, and, adopting it, take it
at about its best stage, and, further, that there Avas
no harm in accompanying this by a reproduction
of the perpendicular tower.
The old church was insufficient in size for the.
wants of the parish, yet had acquired a part of its
size by a disproportionate widening of its aisles..
I could not of course reproduce this.9 I therefore
increased the radical scale of the church, repro-
portioning it with reference to its earlier form. I
found, hoAvever, that much greater length was
necessary, and I wanted to add a bay to the
length of the nave, but the Archbishop had spoken,
and still spoke, so strongly against enlargement,
that I unfortunately had to give this up. Still,
hoAvever, the church is some twenty feet longer
than the . old one. I will not go further into a
description of the church. I certainly took great
pains Avith it, and believe it to stand very high
amongst the Avorks of the revival. It has been
brought almost ad nauseam before the public by
my friend, and at the time my tormentor, Mr. E.
B. Denison.1 He was, however, a strenuous
supporter of doing the Avork well, and was a very
liberal contributor to the funds; and Avere it not
that he has an unpleasant way of doing things
3 Aisles are valuable in the point of view of accommodation
in proportion to their width, the least useful part of an aisle
being that nearest to the pillars. In Newark church, to my
mind one of the best proportioned churches in England, the
aisles are wider than the nave. — Ed.
1 Now Sir Edmund Beckett, Q.C.— Ed.

chap. iii.J Recollections. 173
which makes one hate one's best Avorks, I should
have far more reason to thank than to complain of
him. My comfort was, however, much more seri
ously interfered with by a despicable and untrust-
Avorthy man, whom: I had the misfortune to fall
in with as a clerk of the Avorks, and who had con
trived to ingratiate himself (for the time) with Mr.
Denison, so much so as to cause much that Avas
annoying; but I will not dwell upon disagree
ables. The Avork Avas well carried out, and every
improvement proposed was ably advocated by
Mr. Denison. He, like my friend Mr. Stevens,
Avas a determined advocate of anything strong,
bold, and forcible, and the lessons he read me on
this have been most useful. It is true he carries
this to excess, and, barrister-like, advocates it by
faulty arguments, which, woe be to the -luckless
wight who ventures to expose ; but his views are
in the main strong, sound, and true, so that there
is no good done by sifting them for a few fallacies,
which any one Avho knows anything of the subject
is as well aAvare of as he is himself. My project
of reproducing the original design of the tower
was subsequently modified into the reproduction of
its general forms in an earlier style. I am not proud
of this toAver. I missed the old outline, and I never
see it without disappointment, though I do not
think that this feeling is generally participated in.
I built another church there on a general
scheme of Mr. Denison's. I wonder whether I
haAre the original sketch. It would be amusing.2
1 This church, close to the Great Northern Railway Station, has
since been altered by Sir Edmund Beckett, or rather by a very-
competent local architect under Sir Edmund's direction. —Ed.

174 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Late in 1854 I competed for the neAV Rathhaus,
or H6tel de Ville, at Hamburg, a second European
competition. I founded my design according to
the Avish of my departed friend, the Syndic Sievi-
king, upon the Halles at Ypres, but changed the
detail entirely. I confess that I think it would
have been a very noble structure.
Early in 1855 this competition Avas decided in
my favour, but the execution was postponed sine
die, OAving to the funds set apart for it being
required for the improvement of the navigation
of the Elbe. I sent a small view of it that year
to the Exhibition at Paris. The following re
mark terminates the notice of it in a pamphlet
by M. Adolphe Lance: — " L'hotel de ville de
Hambourg sera une des plus belles et des plus
raisonnables constructions de ce temps-ci. Heu
reux l'artiste qui y aura attache son nom, heureuse
la ville qui pourra le compter au nombre de ses
monuments." I Avas named one of three architects who had
the examining and passing of English works
in architecture for the Paris Exhibition, my coad
jutors being Professors Cockerell and Donald
son. I contributed very largely myself, sending
two views of the church at Hamburg, one of the
Rathhaus design, one of the interior of Ely Cathe
dral, a drawing of my restoration- of the Westmin
ster Chapter-house, and a number of others. I
received a gold medal.
I spent a little time in Paris on this occasion,
and saw very much in the Exhibition to give me
pleasure. As usual, however, I devoted most of
my time to sketching from old buildings.

chap, hi.] Recollections. 175
In 1855 I had received a hint from Mr. Hard-
wick, R. A., that I had better put down my name on
the list of candidates for the Royal Academy, and in
December I was elected an associate. The only
notable circumstance connected Avith my associate-
'ship Avas that, during an interregnum, in which Pro
fessor Cockerell had ceased to lecture, I was, in con
junction with Mr. Smirke (also an associate), called
upon to deliver lectures there. I gave five such lec
tures, and I must say that, if they were not good
ones, it was not for Avant of pains, for I did all in my
power to render them so, and am vain enough to
believe that they contain much that is original
and meritorious. They were most elaborately
illustrated by bold chalk sketches and drawings ;
on these I, my sons, pupils, and assistants worked
most assiduously. On one occasion I actually
went into France on a special sketching tour in
December, to get materials for my lecture. A
nobler set of illustrations was probably never seen
to any lectures. They numbered on one occasion
upwards of. seventy, and far more than covered
an entire side of the great room at the Academy.
They Avere many of them from sketches made
expressly for the occasion ; some were from
sketches obtained from, others, very many were
enlarged from my older sketch-books, and some
were taken from published works; indeed, every
source was laid under contribution to make my
lectures thoroughly explanatory in every Avay. I
often think of publishing them, but the trouble
and the cost interfere.3
3 They are now published with illustrations as a posthumous
work. — Ed.

176 Sir Gilbert Scott.
1 1 is a pity that Ave have not two- professorships
at the Academy — the one for classic, the other for
gothic architecture. It is sad that the latter
should be either utterly neglected, or else taken
up by one who has not made it his special
study, nor cares about its revival, except to head
deputations to discourage it.
About this time I erected the church at Haley.
Hill, Flalifax, the munificent Avork of Mr. E.
Akroyd, the great manufacturer. It is, on the
whole, my best church ; but it labours under this
disadvantage, that it was never meant to be so
fine a Avork as it is, and consequently was not
commenced on a sufficiently bold and comprehen
sive plan. Nothing could exceed the liberality
and munificence of its founder, and I think heVas
well satisfied. I confess I hardly am so, as I know
how much finer it would have been, had it been
more developed as to size.

CHAPTER IV.
I noav arrive at the period of the competition for
the Government offices in the autumn of 185.6.
I will first mention that it found me hard at work,
Avriting a treatise on " Domestic Architecture." I
had long felt that some book was needed, putting
forth in a popular way, free from exaggeration, the
applicability of our revived style to general uses ;
and, at the same time, the inconsistency of giving
it a queer, antiquated garb, and the necessity of
making it conform loyally and willingly to the
habits and requirements of our OAvn age. This
book, as pretty Avell all that I write, is the product
of my travelling hours. People often express a
wonder how I Avrite lectures, books, &c, in the
midst of my engagements. I simply do so by
employing my time on such work while travel
ling. I carry a blank book in my pocket, and
write in pencil as I go. I find that it rather
amuses than fatigues me, and that my thoughts
are freer at such times than at. any other ; while
in a night journey I often warm up to more
enthusiastic sentiments than at other times I have
leisure for. This book took me a very consider
able time to write, and its publication was delayed
because it was finished at the wrong time of the

ijS Sir Gilbert Scott.
year— for books, like other things, may be in or
out of season.
This great competition, then, found me in rather
a prepared state of mind. I was not, however,
content Avith this ; but, long before the pro
gramme came out, I set to Avork to put myself
systematically through my facings. My family
being, as Avas usual in the latter part of summer,
in the Isle of Wight, I retired to a great extent
from active engagements, and set myself to de
sign the elements which I thought best suited to
a public building. I designed windoAvs suited to
all positions, and of all varieties of size, form, and
grouping ; doonvays, cornices, parapets, and ima
ginary combinations of all these, carefully studying
to make them all thoroughly practical, and suited
to this class of building. I did not aim at making
my style " Italian Gothic ; " my ideas ran much
more upon the French, to which for some years
I had devoted my chief study. I did, however,
aim at gathering a feAV hints from Italy, such as
the pillar-mullion, the use of differently-coloured
materials, and of inlaying. I also aimed at
another thing Avhich people consider Italian — I
mean a certain squareness and horizontally of
outline. This I consider pre-eminently suited to
the street front of a public building. I combined
this, however, Avith gables, high-pitched roofs, and
dormers. My opinion is, that putting aside the question
now rife as to Avhether we should, or should not,
introduce foreign varieties of Gothic, my details
Avere excellent, and precisely suited to the pur
pose. I do not think the entire design so good

chap, iv.] Recollections. 179
as its elementary parts. It was rather set and
formal. With all its faults, however, it would
haA'e been a noble structure ; and the set of draw
ings Avas, perhaps, the best ever sent in to a
competition, or nearly so.
A little before the. competition, but subsequent
to my designing the speculative elements of it,
I had a good opportunity of trying these elements
beforehand. Mr. Akroyd had asked me to de
sign a town-hall for Halifax, to suit a site which
he favoured. I made a design, which I flatter
myself Avas as good a thing of its kind, and of its
small size, as had been made at the time ; nor do
I think I could now do better. It was the first-
fruits of my studies for the Government offices ;
and, in my opinion, was better than any subse^
quent design for these buildings.
When my designs for the public offices were
exhibited,1 they excited much attention ; indeed,
they were, by those who favoured Gothic, con
sidered generally the best, though opinions Avere
divided to some extent between them and the
designs by Mr. Street and Mr. Woodward. In
deed, feAv comparatively, as were the Gothic
designs, they were by far the best in the exhi
bition, putting aside, perhaps, those of Sir Charles
Barry, which were visionary, and founded on the
diminutive elements of the present Board of Trade
buildings. The judges, who knew amazingly little about
their subject, were not Avell-disposed towards our
1 They bore the. following motto :— " Nee minimum memere
decus vestigia Grasca ausi deserere et celebrare domestica
facta."— Ed.
N 2

180 Sir Gilbert Scott.
style, and though they awarded premiums to all
the best Gothic designs, they took care not to put
any of them high enough to have much chance.
The first premium for the Foreign Office was
awarded to a design by my old pupil Coe ; the
first for the War Office to one (not bad by any
means) by Garling. Barry and Banks came second
for the Foreign Office, and I third.
I did not fret myself at the disappointment, but
when it was found, a few months later, that Lord
Palmerston had coolly set aside the entire results
of the competition, and was about to appoint
Pennethorne, a non-competitor, I thought myself
at liberty to stir. A meeting took place at Mr.
Beresford Hope's, at Avhich Charles Barry, myself,
and Digby Wyatt were present; and, if I remember
rightly, it Avas agreed to stir up the Institute of
Architects. To the best of my memory, the
Government had just, changed, and Lord John
Manners had taken the Office of Works, when a
deputation from the Institute laid the matter
before him. The result Avas the appointment of
a select committee to inquire into the subject.
This committee had Mr. Beresford Plope for its
chairman, and included Lord Elcho, Sir Benjamin
Hall, Mr. Tite, Mr. Akroyd, Mr. Stirling, Sir
John Shelley, Mr. Lock, Mr. Lygon,2 and others.
It appeared, on the evidence of Mr. Burn, who
had acted as one of the architectural assessors to
the judges, that while the assessors were of one
mind as to the order of merit amongf the designs,
they did not coincide with the decision of the
judges; and, further, that they had agreed in
¦ Now the Earl Beauchamp.— Ed.

chap, iv.] Recollections. 181
placing me second for both buildings, while no
one Avas on any showing first for both ; moreover,
that they considered second for both (the two
being essentially parts of the same group) to be a
higher position than that of first for only one.3 I
Avas thus in a certain sense lifted up from my third
place and placed upon the balance between second
and first. The committee reported that the two
styles Avere equal in convenience and in cost, and,
stating what I have just detailed, they recom
mended the Commissioner of Works virtually,
though not in terms, to make his own choice
between my design and that of Messrs. Banks
and Barry.
They reported in July, 1858, but no decision
was come to till late in November, Avhen I learned
that I -had been appointed (L. D.).
I at once received instructions to revise my
design with reference to sundry considerations
named. Meanwhile, the notion of erecting a
War Office had been given up, and the Indian
Government were in treaty for that part of the
ground which faces King Street; and as the
Secretary of State for India (Lord Stanley) had
actually drawn up a minute for my appointment
to that building also, Mr. Digby Wyatt, at that
3 It may be well to give here the order in which the premi-
ated competitors were placed by the judges : —
War Office. Foreign Office.
H. B. Garling Coe and Hofland
M. B. D'Hazeville (of Paris) Banks and Barry
T. E. Rochead *G. G. Scott
*Pritchard and Seddon *Deane and Woodward
C. Brodrick T. Bellamy
The Gothic designs are marked in this list by an asterisk. — Ed.

1 82 Sir Gilbert Scott.
time official architect to the India Office, called
upon me, and made a proposition that we should
undertake the work in conjunction, to which I
Avillingly agreed. The designs were made and
approved, and the working draAvings ordered and
proceeded Avith for both buildings, Avhen Mr. Tite*
commenced a violent opposition in Parliament, in
which he was, unhappily for me, supported by
Lord Palmerston. It is of no use fighting this
battle over again noAV, but I refer to the papers
on the subject. Suffice it to say that the state
ments made both by Mr. Tite and by Lord
Palmerston Avere as absurd and unfounded as
anything could be.
I wrote in the Times the next day, showing
their utter fallacy. On a former occasion, Avhile
the subject Avas before the select committee, I
went, or sent round, to all the public buildings I
could think of, and measured the area of their
AvindoAVS, and on comparing them with those of
my design I Avas able to shoAV to the committee
that my design provided half as much light again
as the average of buildings of the same class. Tite
Avas a member of that committee, yet he had the
face to state that my designs Avere deficient in
AvindoAV-light, and encouraged Lord Palmerston
to do the same. In my letter in the Times I
shoAved this up pretty vigorously ; but a second
attack followed, in Avhich all this unfair mis
statement Avas again brought fonvard, with a
quantity of poor buffoonery Avhich only Lord
Palmerston 's age permitted.
4 The architect of the new Royal Exchange, and M.P. for
Bath.— Ed.

chap. iv. J Recollections. iS

o

I Avas well defended, but the Government,
being weak, promised to exhibit the drawings in
the Plouse of Commons before they Avere to be
executed. One leading member of our profession
was so irate at my letter in the ' Times, Avhich he
considered to reflect upon English architects in
general, that he proposed moving the Institute to
reverse the recommendation of their council to
aAvard to me the annual Royal Medal of the Insti
tute, and was only dissuaded from attempting to
inflict that gratuitous dishonour upon me by strong
remonstrances. I had not, I think, then become
aware that he was Lord Palmerston's private tutor
in matters of architectural lore. As this gentle
man had for many years acted in a very friendly
way towards me, I have never allowed his conduct
in this matter to provoke me to any unkindly act.
I shall have to say a little more about this presently.
I confess that though I knew, till then, nothing of
my recommendation for the medal, I did feel deeply
this attempt to kick me, while prostrate and in
deep perplexity and trouble: and I cannot recon
cile it with the character and generosity which
this gentleman has usually evinced. I fancy,
however, that his somewhat morbidly correct
ideas as to competition rendered the fact of the
work being given to a man, who obtained only a
third premium, very galling to him, and had
much to do with his conduct. Still, as he agreed
in throwing overboard Messrs. Coe and Hofland,
while Barry and I were reported, virtually, by the
select committee, to be on an equality, I fear that
personal feeling, together with an hostility to my
style, had an even stronger influence.

j 84 Sir Gilbert Scott.
HoAvever all this may be, it cannot be denied
that I Avas cast doAvn from the eminence I had
attained. The "very abjects" now loaded me
with their miserable abuse, and, though I Avent on
with my working drawings, I felt that my position
was sadly altered, and the chance of carrying out
my design forlorn. It Avas comforting, under these
dejecting circumstances, to observe how generously
a certain select number of persons of influence
rallied round me, and cheered me in the conflict.
Not only was I Avarmly and vigorously aided by
the Saturday Review, the Ecclesiologist, and by
the Gothic party pretty generally, but a number of
members of parliament stuck nobly by me. I
wish I kneAv all their names, but I will enumerate
a few : Lord Elcho, Mr. Dudley Fortescue, Mr.
Charles Buxton, Mr. Stirling (who had been one
of the judges in the competition), Sir Edward
Colebrook, Sir Stafford Northcote, Mr. Danby
Seymour, Mr. Pease, Col. Tinney, Sir Morton
Peto, Sir Joseph Paxton, and Mr. Akroyd.
Digby Wyatt, though no Goth, held loyally to
our compact, and Ave Avent on in a forlorn hope.
Even Mr. Disraeli told me that there was no
chance of carrying it, but Lord John Manners
held firmly to his own decision, and met the
attack in parliament manfully, and Avith great
success. Indeed, the opponents trusted to num
bers, and cared little about argument, while Lord
Palmerston didn't care a straw Avhat buffoonery
he gave vent to, for the greater the twaddle he
talked, the louder of course was the laughter, and
that was his deadly weapon.
So things went on, and had the Government '

chap, iv.] Recollections. 185
stood, I should perhaps have carried it in the
small days of August. But, alas ! the ministers
Avere left in a minority on their " Reform Bill,"
and dissolved parliament. Then followed the
sudden invasion of Italy, and the canard that
Government had been playing into the hands of
the Emperor of the French, which was believed
just long enough to serve, with the pseudo-
Reform cry, to lose the elections. I am no poli
tician, though tending to conservatism, but at that
time I certainly did take an interest in the elec
tions. At length, however, the fatal day arrived,
the Government resigned, and my arch-opponent
became once more autocrat of England.
It was a considerable time before a Commis
sioner of Public Works Avas nominated, and T lived
upon the slender hope that he might be favourably
inclined. At length Mr. Fitzroy took the office, and
personally he actually Avas on my side, but was
nevertheless bound to uphold Lord Palmerston's
views. I forget the precise order of events, but
the builders' estimates . were by that time in a
forward state, and were alloAA'ed to come in, and
they turned out very satisfactorily. Lord Palmer
ston, however, sent for me, and told me in a jaunty
way that he could have nothing to do Avith this
Gothic style, and that though he did not want to ,
disturb my appointment, he must insist on my j
making a design in the Italian style, which he felt '
sure I could do quite as well as the other. That
he heard I was so tremendously successful in the
Gothic style, that if he let me alone I should
Gothicize the whole country, &c, &c, &c. About

1 86 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the same time my drawings and a model Avere
exhibited in the tea-room of the House of Com
mons, and when the vote for the building came
on, there took place another memorable debate on
architecture, in Avhich Lord Palmerston gave Avay
to another flood of his secret mentor's second
hand learning, Mr. Tite talked nonsense, and some
fair speeches Avere made, especially by Lord
John Manners and Lord Elcho, on my side. The
matter was left an open question to be decided
the next session, when I Avas to exhibit designs
In both styles.
It Avas, as I suppose, about this time that a
deputation of M.P.'s Avaited on Lord Palmerston
to advocate the cause of Gothic architecture.
Since Satan accompanied the angels on the
mission narrated in the Book of Job, there has
seldom been wanting a " devil's advocate " Avhen
anything delicate has had to be transacted, and
so it AAas noAV.
They unluckily invited that worthy, vain old
busy-body, Mr. A  , who had been trying to
make himself look clever in the tea-room by
finding mare's-nests in the shape of non-existent
errors in the arrangement of my plans, and he
must needs come and tell his foolish tale at the
deputation. The faults he found were wholly
imaginary, and the arrangements had been the
result of long thought and patient consultation
with the heads of departments, but no one there
knew anything about this, and so a wound was
given me by a pretended friend, who had been
admitted by mistake, and — thanks to him— Lord
Palmerston found no difficulty in letting off all

chap, iv.] Recollections. 187
friendly arguments like water out of a tap. I think
it was on this occasion that, having discovered the
error of his argument about " shutting out the very
light of day," he said, " This Gothic architecture
admits the sun from its very rising till its setting,
so that my friend the Speaker, who necessarily
goes to bed late, and has no shutters to his
windows, can get no sleep for it."
It Avas about the same time that, on going to the
lobby of the House, I, by the merest chance, dis
covered that one of my opponents in the original
competition had just brought a paper, arguing his
own claims, for distribution among the members.
I obtained one, went home and wrote a reply, got
600 copies struck off in no time, and, it having
been on a Friday that these papers were sent round,
I got mine distributed to the members from house
to house before the next sitting. I . had, by the
request of the editor of some periodical, written
(anonymously) a conspectus of the arguments con
tained in my book on " Domestic Architecture "
and elsewhere, in favour of our style, under the
name of " The Gothic Renaissance." This I had
printed in a separate form and similarly distributed.
Indeed, I did everything that man could do, nearly
my entire time being devoted to the fight.
About the middle of August I heard that a depu-
. tation of architects was going up to Lord Palmer
ston to pat him on the back and encourage him in
his determination to overthrow the Avork of his
predecessors. I was foolish enough, on hearing it,
to call on a leading member of the profession, a
Mr. B— — ¦-, to protest against this. He professed
innocence of all privity to the scheme, but told

1 88 Sir Gilbert Scott.
me that, if asked, he should not decline to join
it. My necessary exertions being for the time over,
Mrs. Scott persuaded me. to go, Avith our elder sons,
to spend a day or two at the Oatlands Park Hotel
near Chertsey, for relaxation after my anxious toils
and sorrows. The next day was a Saturday, and
on that day there appeared in the Saturday
Review a most cutting article, shoAving up the
ignorance and folly of Lord Palmerston's architec
tural essays in and out of parliament. On return
ing from fishing Avith my sons, I received a message
from Mr. Burn, Avho, to my surprise, I found to be
laid up Avith a severe illness in the same hotel,
saying that he had just seen my name in the visi
tors' book, and Avished I would call upon him. I
did so, and, though he Avas very ill, found him very
jovial, and he talked a little about the Government
Offices, but said he wanted to go into the subject
more at leisure Avith me, and arranged that I should
call again on Monday. When I did so, he opened
conArersation by saying, " Whoever do you think
came doAvn to see me yesterday (Sunday) but
B  ? I don't knoAv Avhat he came about, but he
said he Avas so anxious to know hoAv I Avas that he
thought he would run down on Sunday afternoon
and see me." He then proceeded to say, " I asked
him if he had seen the article on the Government
Offices in yesterday's Saturday Review, and I said
to him, ' By the lord Harry, it is the best thing I
ever read in my life.' " B  was mum, Avhile
Mr. Burn proceeded : " I don't knoAVAvho it- is that
backs Palmerston up, but I am convinced, by Avhat
he says, that there's some idle fellow in our profes-

chap, iv.] Recollections. 189
sion Avho keeps prompting from behind the scenes."
B  had had enough of it and departed! I
was able to tell Mr. Burn, Avhat he had by his
spirited reception prevented B  from telling
him himself, that Mr. B  had come doAvn to
canvas him for the deputation, with a view to
being able to quote him as agreeing Avith its
objects, but the broadside he had received had
silenced him, and he went back from his Sunday
trip " Avith a flea in his ear." I now found to my
satisfaction that Mr. Burn, the senior assessor of
the competition, approved distinctly of my appoint
ment, though till then (barring our cursory introduc
tion years before) he Avas a perfect stranger to me.
The deputation took place during the same
week. Mr. B  again Avas master of the cere
monies. Sidney Smirke, the first speaker, assert
ing (with his hair perhaps on end) that, if they
began in King Street with Gothic, it would never
stop till it had reached Charing Cross. Tite
repeated his heavy common-places, and spoke of
Charles Barry and H. B. Garling as the successful
-competitors : poor Coe had no friends.
I have not, after an interval of many years,
ceased to feel that the conduct of those architects
who attended on this deputation Avas in a high
degree unprofessional. I am happy, however, to
say that I have never permitted any such feeling
to show itself in my intercourse with them, or to
cause any personal breach.
There can be little doubt that the deputation
had been arranged with the cognizance of Lord
Palmerston, and that it greatly strengthened his
hands. I tried to get up a counter address, but

190 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the Gothic architects did not come forward in
sufficient force to make it Avorth while. This cold-
heartedness Avas the greatest damper I had met
with. I must, hoAvever, name some who exerted
themselves in the most generous way, and who
Avillingly signed the address : — Mr, Joseph Clarke,
Mr. Benjamin Ferrey, Mr, John Norton, Mr.
EAvan Christian, Mr. George Goldie, Mr. Raphael
Brandon, Mr. T. W. Goodman, Messrs. Pritchard
and Seddon, Mr. T. P. St. Aubyn, Mr. Arthur
W. Blomfield, Mr. William Slater, Mr. William
White, Mr. T. H. Hakewill, Mr. John L. Pear
son, Mr. E. Welby Pugin, Mr. William Burges,
and Mr. S. S. Teulon.
Shortly afterwards Lord Palmerston sent for
me, and, seating himself dov/n before me in the
most easy, fatherly Avay, said, " I want to talk to
you quietly, Mr. Scott, about this business. I
have been thinking a great deal about, it, and I
really think there was much force in what your
friends said." I Avas delighted at his supposed
comrersion. " I really do think that there is a
degree of inconsistency in compelling a Gothic
architect to erect a classic building, and so I have
been thinking of appointing you a coadjutor, who
would in fact make the design ! " I was thrown to
the earth again. I began at once to bring argu
ments against the proposal, but the bloAv was too
sudden to allow me to do justice to my case m'vd-
voce; so on my return I immediately wrote a
strongly and firmly worded letter, stating that I
had been regularly appointed to the work, that
Mr. Gladstone had assured me that my appoint
ment would be respected, that he (Lord Palmer-

chap. iv. J Recollections, 191
ston) had done the same both personally and in
parliament. I dwelt upon my position as an
architect, my having won two European com
petitions, my being an A.R.A., a gold medallist
of the Institute, a lecturer on architecture at the
Royal Academy, &c. ; and I ended by firmly de
clining any such arrangement. I forget Avhether
he replied. I also wrote, if I remember rightly,
to Mr. Gladstone.
Thus closed this stage of the business, and,
being thoroughly knocked up (or down, as you
may please to call it), I retired Avith Mrs. Scott
and my family to Scarborough to recruit.
I was thoroughly out of health, through the
badgering, anxiety, and bitter disappointment
which I had gone through, and for the first time
since commencing practice, twenty-four years be
fore, I gave myself a quasi-holiday of two months,
with sea air and a course of quinine. During
this time, however, besides the work sent down
to me from- time to time, I was busying myself in
preparing for the next campaign. I saAv that,
Avith Lord Palmerston, Gothic would have no
chance, and I had agreed to prepare an Italian
design. I felt that I could not, Avhile a stone was
left unturned, make a design in the ordinary
classic form ; I had, however, such faith in Gothic,
that I ahvays believed that "something would
turn up " in its favour. ~iu
To resign Avould be to give up a sort of pro
perty which Providence had placed in the hands
of my family, and would be simply reAvardtnM'my
professional opponents for their unpreeie^nted..
attempt to wrest a work from the hands of a

192 Sir Gilbert Scott.
brother architect, after he had not only been
regularly appointed, but had commenced the busi
ness, had even made his working drawings, and
had received builders' tenders.
The way in which the matter Avas left in parlia
ment was that I Avas to prepare an Italian design,
Avhich, with the Gothic one, was to be laid before
parliament the next year. The course I deter
mined on was to prepare a design in a variety of
Italian, as little inconsistent with my antecedents
as possible. I had, in dealing with Lord Hill's
chapel at Hawkstone, and Avith St. Michael's
church, Cornhill, attempted, by the use of a sort
of early Basilican style, to give a tone to the
existing classic architecture ; and it struck me
that not wholly alien to this was the Byzantine of
the early Venetian palaces, and that the earliest
renaissance of Venice contained a cognate ele-
ment. I therefore conceived the idea of gene
rating what would be strictly an Italian style out
of these two sets of examples ; Byzantine, in fact,
toned into a more modern and usable form, by
reference to those examples of the renaissance
which had been influenced by the presence of
Byzantine works. To the study of this I devoted
myself while at Scarborough, and I produced
elementary sketches which contained much that
was, in my opinion, really valuable, as giving a
neAV tone to semi-classic ideas. After my return
to toAvn, I worked out these ideas into new de
signs for both buildings, and not, as I think, Avith
out considerable success. The designs were both
original and pleasing in effect ; indeed, Lord
Elcho, to whom I showed them before laying

chap, iv.] Recollections. 193
them before the authorities, thought them better
than the Gothic design, and rejoiced that good
was likely to come out of evil.
I at length shoAved them to Mr. CoAvper, who,
I should have stated, had, on the unexpected
death of Mr. Fitzroy during the recess, come into
the Office of Works. Mr. Cowper was, of course,
under the control of Lord Palmerston. Left to
himself, he Avould, I believe, like Mr. Fitzroy,
have preferred the Gothic design ; and now, as
I equally belieA^e, liked the Byzantinesque one.
He Avas, hovvever, so far as this question Avent,
in the hands of a strong master, and, after a few
civil remarks, merely said that he would make an
appointment Avith Lord Palmerston.
About this time a. friend called, and told me he
was sure that something secret Avas being trans
acted Avith one of the original competitors, for
Avhen, in casual conversation Avith this gentleman,
he had referred to the Foreign Office, so extra
ordinary an expression had come over his coun
tenance that he Avas convinced that some mischief
was firewing. Some time later another friend
told me that he had discovered that a design for
the Foreign Office was being prepared by this
architect ! He also asked me if Lord Palmerston
had not once proposed to make him my coadjutor
in the matter, and if it was not the case that I
had refused. I now saAv how matters stood.
Lord Palmerston had hoped at first to be able to
thrust this gentleman upon me as a colleague ;
but, failing that, had secretly encouraged him to
make a design, that he might have " two strings
to his bow." I do not remember the order in.
o

194 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avhich these revelations came to me, relatively to
other circumstances ; but they probably explain
the fact that Lord Palmerston allowed several
Aveeks to elapse, after I had shown Mr. Cowper
the designs, before he made any appointment Avith
me to see them. When he did so, he kept me wait
ing two hours' and a half in his back room (during
a part of Avhich I heard him very deliberately
going through his luncheon in the next room), and
then sent me away unseen. At length, however,
I showed him the design. He was very civil,
and I thought he liked it. Indeed, I believe that
he did, but thought it hardly consistent with his
preA'ious professions to admit it.
After this I saAv Mr. CoAvper, and told him
that I thought Lord Palmerston was favourably
impressed. Flaving occasion to go at once to
Hamburg, I left the matter, as I thought, in a
tolerably satisfactory position. While abroad,
however, I received a letter from Mr. CoAvper,
saying that I Avas mistaken in my impression as
to Lord Palmerston's feelings, and that I must
modify the design, and make it much more like
modern architecture.
This led, on my return, to a number of futile
attempts, and in the midst of them I heard by a
side wind that the competitor to whom I have
referred had not only made a design, but that it
was actually at the Office of Works, and under
consideration !
Now indeed a crisis had arrived, and some
strong step must be taken. I accordingly drew
up a formal account of all which had transpired,
stating what I had heard as to these proceedings,

chap, i v.J Recollections. 195
and entering a decided protest against the course
thus secretly taken.
This protest I sent to Mr. Cowper, and in
formed my supporters in the House of Commons
of Avhat had been done.
This seems to have quashed the project, and
shortly afterwards I was directed to make some
modifications in my semi-Byzantine design to
meet the opposing vieAvs half Avay. The design
was then referred to the joint opinion of Messrs.
Cockerell, Burn, and Ferguson.
I had frequent intervieAvs with these three
gentlemen, and I have every reason to be grate
ful for the kind consideration with which I was
treated by them. Professor Cockerell, being a pure
classicist, had the greatest difficulty in SAvallowing
my new style. He lectured meTor hours together
on the beauties of the true classic, going over
book after book with me, and pouring forth
ecstatic eulogies on his beloved style of art. I
did not argue against his views, which I respected,
but rather took the line of advocating variety and
individuality, and of each man being allowed to
follow out his individual idiosyncrasies ; but it was
a bitter pill for him. He kindly desired to aid me,
but his tastes went all the other way. Ferguson,
on the contrary, was strongly in favour of my
views. They embodied in great measure what
he had been for years advocating, and he would
have gone to the full extent of my newly generated
variety of " Italian." Mr. Burn did not go strongly
into the question of style, but took the thing up in
a determined and sturdy manner in the light of
upsetting an unjustifiable combination against a
o 2

196 Sir Gilbert Scott.
brother architect. He stood by me most man
fully and sternly. He and Ferguson together
brought over Cockerell to their views, and they
made a joint report in favour of my design, sub
ject to a few modifications, of which Ferguson
disapproved, but Avhich he conceded to please
Cockerell. I cannot say much in favour of the design as
noAV approved. My first idea had been toned
doAvn, step by step, till no real stuff Avas left in
it. 1 1 Avas a mere caput mortuum, as is invariably
the case where a design is trimmed and trimmed
again to meet the views of different critics. Like
the man Avith his two wives in the fable, one had
pulled out all the black hairs, and the other all
the grey ones. I hoped, hoAvever, to throAv more
life into it in the execution, and I even encouraged
to myself the most forlorn hope that the House
of Commons might still decide in favour of the
Gothic design. The draAvings went again before
parliament ; the House of Commons had no
liking at all for the new design, but let it pass
after another architectural debate, and so it stood
at the end of the session of i860, and thus my
second great campaign was over.
As in the previous year, Lord Palmerston,
, Avhen parliament Avas once safely prorogued, lost
no time in changing his tone. I found that
something was "up," through my friend Mr.
Hunt5 (the professional adviser to the Office
of Works), Avho sent for me and offered some
very serious though mystic advice to me to
comply Avith any directions I might receive, or
6 Now Sir Henry Arthur Hunt, C.B.— Ed.

chap, iv.] Recollections. 197
I should be in danger of losing my appoint
ment. I may here mention that during all these
wearisome delays, the India Government, grow
ing naturally sick . of such childish trifling, had
fought shy of their verbal agreement to share
the site with the Foreign Office, and had quite
justifiably commissioned Mr. : Digby Wyatt to
look out for another. I was thus in danger in
that quarter also. They were the further moved
to this, because Sir Charles Wood did not like
the arrangement made by Lord Stanley, that they
should have the King Street front, while the
Foreign Office should have that towards the park.
I was sent for to Lord Palmerston on Septem
ber 8th, i860, when he told me that he did not
wish to disturb my position, but that he Would
have nothing to do with Gothic ; and as to the "
style of my recent design, it was "neither one '
thing nor t'other — a regular mongrel affair — and ,
he would have nothing to do with it either :" that/
he must insist on my making a design in the ;
ordinary Italian, and that, though he had no wish
to displace me, he nevertheless, if I refused, must
cancel my appointment. He did^ not stop for. a
reply, but went on to tell me that he had made
an agreement with Sir Charles Wood which
necessitated an entire alteration of plan. The
India Office was to share the park front with the
Foreign Office. The State Paper Office was to
be removed, and the building was to project
irregularly into the park, leaving the King Street
front as a future work.
I came away thunderstruck and in sore per-

198 Sir Gilbert Scott.
plexity, thinking whether I must resign or swallow
the bitter pill, when whom should I meet in Pall
Mall but my friend Mr. Hunt. I at once told him
what had transpired, and he in return told me what
had given rise to the advice which, a few days
earlier, he had kindly volunteered. He had been
consulted by Mr. Cowper6 as to whether they could
not fairly get rid of me (as, I suppose, a troublesome,
contumacious fellow). He (Mr. Hunt) had put the
case in this way : that I was regularly appointed
by his (Mr. CoAvper's) predecessor, and had per
formed, Avithout any shortcomings, the duties com
mitted to me : that it was no fault of mine that a
change of masters had taken place Avhose tastes
were different, and that it would be a very serious
injury to me to displace me, and one for Avhich no
pecuniary compensation Avould make amends. On .
the other hand, that employers had an undoubted
right to prescribe the style of the building they
desired to erect, and that, in the case of an heir
succeeding to an estate after a new mansion had
been designed, though good feeling suggested the
continuance of the same architect, it was a fair
condition that he, on his part, should be willing to
conform to the views of his new client. By these
arguments alone he had quieted the impatience of
my employers, noAv stirred up to a climax, and he
conjured me to act in conformity with the vieAvs
Avhich he had suggested. He urged the claims of
my family, whom I had no right to deprive of
what had become their property as much as my
OAvn, for a mere individual preference on a question
of taste, &c, &c. I saw Mr. Digby Wyatt shortly
6 Now Mr. Cowper Temple. ^Ed.

chap, iv.] Recollections. . 199
afterwards, Avho, very disinterestedly, urged strongly
the same view — I say disinterestedly, for had I
resigned he would beyond a doubt have had the
whole design of the India Office, instead of a half
of it, committed to his hands. I was in a terrible
state of mental perturbation, but I made up my
mind, went straight in for Digby Wyatt's view,
bought some costly books on Italian architecture,
and set vigorously to work to rub up what, though
I had once understood pretty intimately, I had
alloAved to grow rusty by tAventy years' neglect.
I devoted the autumn to the neAV designs, and, as
I think, met with great success. I went to Paris
and studied the Louvre and most of the important
buildings, and really recovered some of my lost
feelings for the style, though I fell, ever and anon,
into fits of desperate lamentation and annoyance,
and almost thought again of giving up the work.
That winter my youngest boy but one7 had a
severe fever at St. Leonard's, and I was detained
for six weeks from business, but I went on Avith
my design. While I was from home under this
affliction, I was elected a Royal Academician, the
pleasure of which was sadly alloyed by the circum
stances of the time. 1 succeeded my dear friend
Sir Charles Barry, who had died suddenly during
the autumn.
My new designs were beautifully got up in out
line; the figures I put in myself, arid even composed
the groups, for, though I have no skill in that way,
I was so determined to show myself not behind
hand with the classicists, that I seemed to have
more power than usual.
7 We were five, all boys. — Ed.

soo Sir Gilbert Scott.
The . India Office, externally, Avas Avholly my
design, though I had adopted an idea as to its
grouping and outline, suggested by a sketch of
Mr. Digby Wyatt's. This I thought very excel
lent, although in his OAvn draAving he had done
but little justice to the conception. Lord Pal
merston highly approved of the design, and it
passed the House of Commons in the session
of 1 86 f, after a very stout fight by the Gothic
party, Avho naturally and consistently opposed
it strenuously. I aided this opposition a little'
myself, for feeling the new design (as to its
plan and outline) to be even more suited to the
Gothic style than the old one, I had a splendid
vieAV made of a mediaeval design adapted to the
altered plan. It Avas by very far superior to any
which I had hitherto made, and I placed it with
my other Gothic designs in the exhibition at the
Royal Academy, as a silent protest against Avhat
Avas going on. I further had a copy made of this
vieAAr, and had nearly succeeded in getting it
exhibited to the House of Commons with my
classic design on the same plan, but Mr. Cowper
Avas too canny for me, and thus, after more than
tAVO years' hard fighting, I Avas compelled to "eat
my leek."
The struggle through which I had fought the
matter; step by step, Avas such as I should never
have faced out, had I knoAvn what Avas before me.
Indeed, at the commencement, nothing would have
induced me to volunteer a classic design ; but the
battle, though long one of style, came at last to
be almost for existence. I felt that I should be
irreparably injured if I were to lose a Avork thus

chap, iv.] Recollections. 201
publicly placed in my hands, and I was step by
step driven into the. most annoying position of
carrying out my largest work in a style contrary
to the direction of my life's labours. My shame
and sorrow Avere for a time extreme, but, to my
surprise, the public seemed to understand my
position and to feel for it, and I never received
any annoying or painful rebuke, and even Mr.
Ruskin told me that I had done quite right.
Such was the length of time over which this
business spread, that, though my designs were
commenced before my son Gilbert's term of archi
tectural pupilage, began, his five years had ex
pired before the foundations were begun to be
excavated. It is now seven years and a half8 since
I set about my first sketches, and the work is only
in certain parts first-floor high. . Great, however,
as has been the annoyance of which I had been
the victim, I am determined by God's help to do
my very best, just as much so as if the style was
of my OAvn choosing.
I am ashamed to have occupied so much space
in detailing these heartless and almost heart
breaking vexations, and will now leave the subject.
8 Written in 1864.— Ed.

CHAPTER V.
I avill noAv make a few observations upon the
progress and position of the revival during the
period Avhich I have been passing over, viz. from
1845 to the present time, 1864.
Up to that time (1845) the revival in this
country had been essentially English. I am not
aAvare that, with the exception of a feAV works by
Mr. Wylde,1 any foreign idea had crept into it.
I believe my OAvn journeys into Germany, and
subsequently into France, gave the first impetus
in the direction of foreign architecture, and that
was but a slight one. I think it Avas in 1849 that
I dreAV a series of designs for capitals of the
foreign type, and my pupil, Mr. Alfred Bell, fol
lowed them out further for St. Nicholas at Ham
burg, my types being those which I had sketched
at the Sainte Chapelle.
In my essays on various subjects at the end
of my book on Restoration (published in 1850)
I do not recollect any tendency to foreignism.
Those essays are not a bad modulus of the mind
of the revival at that time ; that on the selection
1 As a fine example of Mr. Wylde's design, St. Martin's
Northern schools in Castle Street, Endell Street, may be men
tioned. — Ed.

chap, v.] Recollections. 20

3

of a style, Avas intended to be corrective of the
tendency of the " Ecclesiologist " towards late
decorated. Their dictum had been in favour of
the earlier stage of the flowing decorated, or, as
my friend, Mr. E. A. Freeman, used to say, they
would call it in their own nomenclature, "the
early late middle pointed." The three western
bays of the choir at Ely were at that time their
beau-ideal, forgetting that the' outline and pro
portion of these were derived directly from the
Norman bays Avith which they came in conjunc
tion. So imperious was their law, that any one
who had dared to deviate from or to build in
other than the sacred "Middle Pointed," well kneAv
what he must suffer. In my own office, Mr. Street
and others used to vieAV every one as- a heretic
who designed in any but the sacred phase ; and I
well recollect, when I was, at Holbeck, obliged to
build in early English or " first pointed," the sort
of holy and only half-repressed indignation and
pity to which it gave rise. The revived style
was one, and its unity was " Middle Pointed." I
held this as a theory myself. They held it as
a religious duty, though they now seem to have
forgotten this phase in the history of their faith,
and are very irate when it is referred to. So
tyrannical did this law continue to be, that when
I first busied myself in forming the Architectural
Museum, it was with fear and trembling that I
introduced some early English specimens. I held
out against the revival of this style of foliage myself,
but I feared that its admission would, among the
stricter sort, condemn the whole institution.
How curiously reversed have these Medo-

204 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Persic IaAvs since become. Tyranny has been
equally rampant, but it has persecuted what it
once enjoined, and now its supporters have got
back once more into the old groove, and are
equally tyrannous in the old line. The introduc
tion of the foreign element in a systematic way,
may, perhaps, have been due to Mr. Ruskin,
certainly it came on shortly after the publication
of his " Seven Lamps." This, undoubtedly, set
people upon Italian Gothic. For my own part,
I never fell into this latter mania ; I held that
there was much to be learned from Italian Gothic,
but that it should not be really adopted at all.
Others took a contrary view, as Mr. Bodley, in
his design for the memorial church at Constan
tinople. The French casts in the Architectural Museum
had, no doubt, a strong influence in bringing about
the revival of that class of detail ; and, as regards
myself, my frequent sketching tours in France and
Germany, and my having constantly to make use
of these details in my working dravrings for Ham
burg, had a great tendency in the same direction.
As yet I held and thought, in my innocence, that
every one, or nearly every one, held to nature as
the source of foliated ornamentation. I had,
during my earlier practice, made use in early
English work of the conventional foliage ; but
subsequently I had come to the conclusion that,
though it was laAvful to revive bygone forms of a
merely mechanical character, it was inconsistent
to revive bygone 'conventionalism in matters
originally derived from nature ; and that while Ave
might imitate the architecture of another period,.

chap, v.] Recollections. 205
we must always go to nature direct (though per
haps aided by suggestions from art) for objects of
Avhich nature Avas the professed origin, and that if
we saw fit to conventionalize, the conventional
ism should be our own.
It Avas, I suppose, about 1853 or 1854 that I
Avrote a lecture on such subjects for the Architec
tural Museum. I entered into it with Intense
enthusiasm, and actually got up, as well as I Avas
able, the subject of botany, so far as concerns the
English wild plants. I followed this up, not
scientifically, it is true, but with a delight and an
avidity Avhich I can hardly describe, and my
lecture was of a very impassioned character.
I remember longing . most earnestly to discover
a leaf, from which one might suppose our early
English foliage to have been derived. The
nearest I could find was an almost microscopic
wall-fern, and certain varieties of the common
parsley. One night I dreamed that I had found
the veritable plant. I can see it even now. It
was a sear and yellow leaf, but with all the beauty
of form which graces the capitals at Lincoln and at
Lichfield. I was maddened with excitement and
pleasure ; but while I was exulting, and ready to
exclaim, "Eureka! Eureka!" I aAvoke, and behold
it was a dream.
I remember after this, or another lecture on the
subject, in which I had stated my theory against
revived conventionalism, Mr. Clutton (our secre
tary) came behind me, and whispered in my ear,
" You've been preaching heresy." I thought my
theory so certain, that I never discovered his
meaning till 1856, when he and Mr. Burges made

206 Sir Gilbert Scott.
their competition design for the cathedral at Lille.
This Avas really the first occasion on which the
Ecclesiological Society's laAV, as regards the
" Middle Pointed," was set at nought. The
Ecclesiologists had actually at one time doubted
whether it would not be right to pull down Peter
borough Cathedral, if only We could rebuild it
equally Avell in the " Middle Pointed" style ; and
nOAv they Avere forced to SAvalloAV a veritable
" First Pointed " design, and to sing its unwilling
praises. Clutton and Burges certainly had the
credit of overthrowing the old tyranny, and even
some of its most rigorous abettors soon found it
necessary to outvie each other in setting at
nought their former faith, and in trying who could
be the earliest in the style of their buildings.
One thing, howeA-er, never changed, the intole
rance shoAvn by them for all freedom of thought
on the part of other men. Every one must per
force-follow in their Avake, no matter hoAV often
they changed, or how entirely they reversed their
own previous vieAvs. Nor Avas anything more
certain than this, that however erroneous their
former opinion might have been, their views for
the time being Avere right, and that every one
who differed from them was a heretic, or an old-
fashioned simpleton. It had many years before
been a saying of mine, that there was no- class- ol
men whom the Cambridge Camden Society held
in such scorn, as those Avho adhered to their own
last opinion but one ; and this sentiment has
been the great inheritance and heirloom of their
imitators. Let it not, however, be supposed that I object

:hap. v.] Recollections. 207
0 changes of taste or opinion ; on the contrary, I
onceive them to be the necessary accompaniment
>f a state of active and tentative progress. Nor
even do I object to an earnest belief in the par-
icular phase in vogue ; this is the natural conse
quence of earnestness and zeal in the work in
land. What I do protest against, is the custom
)f taking the cue from some self-elevated leader
>f their OAvn, and, whatever the circumstances
nay be, treating Avith pitying scorn every one
vho does not chance to fall in with the new
¦ule or opinion ; even those who have no power
)f art in them setting themselves up as lights,
.ecause of their adhesion to the latest promul
gated dictum of the clique, and thqse of a superior
:lass neglecting often their own special training,
n the intensity of their self-satisfaction at. belong-
ng to the privileged party, whose great moral
¦ule is to trust in themselves, and to despise
)thers. Still, in spite of these foibles, the revival -was
)rogressing vigorously ; probably • these very
weaknesses were the mere outbreakings of over
excited , pulsation, and the eccentricities, which
vere groAving upon the revived style, were per-
laps like the diseases which human beings are
expected to pass through once and then to have
lone Avith.
I feel uncertain sometimes whether the breaking
lown of the "Middle Pointed" regime was a move
or good or ill. There Avas, to say the least, a
heory in that rigorous code. It was argued, and
vith some force, that in the nature of things it is
unomalous to revive an old style ; that the history

2o8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
of art, while its stream Avas pure, Avas one of con
tinuous and natural progress, the stream never
returning upon its own course, and every develope
ment being the offspring of its immediate pre
decessor; that this natural course had been broken
by the classic renaissance, since Avhich event all
had been confusion, until at length Ave were left
without a distinctive style of our OAvn ; that at
this juncture, by a coincidence of feelings and
circumstances, our old architecture came to be,
Avithout premeditation, revived, and that it Avas
the duty of those Avho guided that revival to see
that its course should not be Avildly eclectic, but
that Ave should select once and for all, the very
best and most complete phase in the old style,
and taking that as our agreed point de dipart,
should make it so thoroughly our own, that we
should develope upon it as a natural and legitimate
nucleus, shaping it freely from time to time to
suit our altered and ever altering Avants, require
ments, and facilities, just as if no rude change had
ever taken place. Assuming this theory to be
sound, it Avas further argued that the " Middle
Pointed" is the. true point of perfection which we
should take as our nucleus of development ; that
however admirable may be the vigour of the
earlier phases, and whatever .beauties we may
find in the later, this middle style has the un
doubted merit of completeness. It may be less
vigorous than its predecessor, but it has purged
itself of the leaven of early rudeness, and has so
completed all its parts as to meet every practical
necessity, Avhile it has not commenced the down
hill road of enervation and decay. One thing

chap. v.J Recollections. 209
Avas also in its favour, that the theory had become
so generally accepted, that this phase might really,
and Avithout affectation, be said . to be already
thoroughly revived and adopted as our OAvn, and
that Ave really were in a position to take it as our
starting point, and Avere actually doing so with
considerable success. I had added to this theory,
in my OAvn version of it, that we should endeavour
to import into this revived style all which was
valuable in other varieties, the vigour of the
earlier Avork, and all useful developements of the
later. I refer on this point to my remarks on
future developement in my little volume of 1850,2
and I Avas certainly trying, with some success
now and then, to carry the theory into effect.
There is then some ground for doubt Iioav far
the break-doAvn of this theory, Avhich followed
immediately upon the Lille competition, Avas of
advantage to the cause. Its most ludicrous fea
ture Avas, the pious devotion to "First Pointed"
in its most ultra-Gallic form, which at once began
to inspire the minds of those Avho, before this,
had given an equally religious tone to their ad
hesion to " Middle Pointed," noAv in its turn be
come semi-impious. I confess I was disposed
for one reason to welcome the change. I had
long felt the slavery of being morally debarred
from making use of the earlier style, in which I
secretly delighted, and was glad to have a little
more freedom, without being subject to the jibes
of self-constituted critics. This Avas, however, a
vain imagination, as exclusiveness is never at a
2 "A Plea for the faithful Restoration of our Ancient
Churches " (T. H. Parker), chapter iii. P

2IO

Sir Gilbert Scott.

loss in forging new, fetters to take the place of
those worn out. Not that this is of any great
consequence, as some bond of union is unques
tionably needed, and no one should be Aveak
enough to allow his OAvn judgment to be biassed
by the fads of others, unless he sees that their
judgment is to be relied upon as sound.
There can be no question that a kind of chaotic
state of things has ensued upon the dissolution
of the "Middle Pointed" confederation. This,
while it has perhaps done good by encouraging a
tentative striving after neAV develppements, and
the introduction of many elements of value into
the reA'i.ved style, has nevertheless Aveakened the
movement by destroying its unity, and by bringing
it back very much to Avhat it had been at first, a
system of eclecticism, the very thing which we
were striving to avoid.
There has, in fact, been no end to the oddities
introduced. Ruskinism, such as Avould make
Ruskin's very hair stand on end ; Butterfieldism,
gone mad Avith its endless stripings of red and
black bricks ; architecture so French that a
Frenchman would not know it, out-Heroding
Herod himself ; Byzantine in all forms but those
used by the.Byzantians ; mixtures of all or some
of these; "original" varieties founded, upon know
ledge of old styles, or upon ignorance of them, as
the case may be ; violent strainings after a some
thing very strange, and great successes in pro
ducing something very weak ; attempts at beauty
resulting in ugliness, and attempts at ugliness
attended with unhoped-for success. All these
have given a wild absurdity to much of the archi-

chap, a7.] Recollections. 211
tecture of the last seven or eight years, which one
cannot but deplore : but at the same time it must
be alloAved that much of the best, the most ner
vous, and the most original results of the revival,
have been arrived at within the same period.
The worst things have in fact been produced by
men, not drilled by the study of ancient work, but
" climbing in some other Avay." It is their Avorks
which disfigure our streets with preposterous
attempts at originality in domestic architecture.
The really trained men, Avho have thoroughly
studied ancient work, though they have not been
exempt from great eccentricities, have neverthe
less produced very fine works of art, full in many
cases of original developement. I believe now,
that the " wild oats " of this period may be consid
ered as soAvn, that we are getting back into a very
reasonable groove, and may trust that the days
of mere eccentricity are passed, and I cannot but
hope that Ave shall get into a condition of liberal
unity, in which our efforts will be brought to act
in one direction, not by a scornful bearing toAvards
one another, but by a general conviction of
the reasonableness of the course which we are
taking. Just now, indeed, the contemptuous line is
chiefly adopted by a someAvhat old-fashioned clique,
of which the head is my valued friend, Mr. J. H.
Parker of Oxford. These early pioneers in the
revival, horrified at the wildness of these later
days, have taken upon them to abuse, not the
ignorant pretenders who have brought disgrace
upon our cause, but the most talented of our
band. No insult indeed is sufficiently bitter
p 2

2 1 2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
against every one who learns a single lesson
abroad, or attempts the smallest originality of his
OAvn. Our tendency to Avildness has given some
excuse for this, and I do trust that a little com
mon-sense exercised on both sides will soon put
an end to a state of things which is bringing much
scandal upon the revival, and is greatly rejoicing
its opponents.
As regards myself I gradually fell into the use
of French detail, not exclusively, but in combina
tion Avith English. In domestic architecture I do
think that I struck out a variety eminently prac
tical, and thoroughly suited to the Avants and habits
of the day. Had I carried out my designs for
the Government offices, this developement would
have been realized ; as it is, it is hardly known.
I have carried it out to a certain degree at Kelham
Hall,3 but that is, in its ideal, rather more Italian^
ized than my OAvn more deliberate developement
would have been ; still, however, that house shows
it fairly. Mr. Forman's house at Dorking4 Avas
built earlier and on a less pretentious scale, but it
contains a great deal of what I Avas then working
out. Sir Charles Mordaunt's, at Walton near
Warwick, contains it in a minor form, and Avorked
out with less, sufficient funds, as does Hafodunos
House,, near Llanwrst.6 The Town Hall at
Preston also exemplies it, and the Rector's house
at Exeter College, though in a less degree. One
feature in all these buildings is the ample size of
the AvindoAvs.
3 Near Newark, the seat of J. H. Manners-Sutton, Esq.— Ed.
* Pipbrook House. — Ed.
5 The seat of II. R. Sandbach,. Esq.— Ed.

chap, v.] 'Recollections. 213
My friend Parker is very irate at the Vvhole of
these developements. He says they are Italian,
French, or anything else, and Avants me to make
everything purely English, indeed he would make
it Tudor. Noav I distinctly aver, that If Ave were
to build houses really like the old Tudor mansions,
people would not in these days live in them. We
must have large AvindoAvs, plate glass in large
sheets, . sash windows if we like, and every con
venience of our day. These clearly demand a
new expansion of the style, and I boldly say that
none has been proposed so good as this. . The
tide is rather setting against it noAv, because of
its non-English form, and I am myself desirous,
as soon as the vortex of business gives me a little
leisure, to go again over its details carefully, and
to Anglicize them, without sacrifice of essentials.
Thus far I go with the present turn of feeling, but
I see no sense, after for years labouring to bring
domestic architecture into a practical form, in at
once giving up all the results to a mere change of
fashion. . The general tendency at the present
moment is to return to English detail. I hold
Avith this to a certain extent. W.e were certainly
going too far the other way, but if by doing this
we have introduced' any features bolder, more
manly, more reasonable, more useful in any
way, or have added to our store elements
Avhich tend to enrich it, and to increase our
legitimate resources, let us not, in the name of
common sense, throw them away again. Anglicize
if you please, and I go all the way with you,
for we were running wild on foreign detail ; but
retain all the good you have picked, up in your

2 1 4 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Avanderings, and use it up in your reformed archi
tecture. I will offer a feAv remarks on our progress
in the subsidiary arts, beginning Avith that of
carving. It has been a draAvback to my own artistic
success that, being one of the first of the revivers,
I had, as it Avere, to groAv Avith my own Avork,
instead of being previously trained for It. Had
I, for instance, knoAvn my future lot, how assidu
ously should I have practised myself in my youth
in the draAving and designing of foliage, and. in
all the branches of decorative art as connected
with Gothic architecture. I had no kind of idea
of ever A-vanting them, and wonder that I practised
them eA^en as much as I did. The consequence
of this Avant of knoAvledge of the future has been
that I was unprepared, in my personal artistic
training, to do justice to the developement in which
I have had to take a prominent part, and have
had to work up the subject, as I was able, in the
midst of the vortex and turmoil of distracting
business. I had it in me, but I had no leisure to
stop to cultivate it. In spite of these great dis-
advantages- 1 do believe that I have done as much
as most men to forward the art of carving ; but
had it not been for them, I am sure that I should
have done very great things in this direction. I
have had a vast deal of bad carving done for me,
it Is true, some of it detestable. This has been
mainly owing to the extent of my business, which
has been always too much for my capacity of
attending to it, added to the disadvantages before
mentioned. Nevertheless Avhere my real influence

chap, v.] Recollections. 215
has been brought to bear, the results have been
very different, and Avould have been very far more
so, had it not been for these disadvantages, Avhich
I could not by any means get over.
I remember that, as early as 1 840, my anxiety
about the carving for the Oxford memorial was
most intense, and though the result is not very
high, I do think that, considering the time, It was
remarkable. The carving at Camberwell church,
which is conventional, is another fair specimen
(barring the human heads, Avhich I then thought
as "detestable as I do now). My carver then Avas
a Mr. Cox, Avho continued to do my work for some
years. When Ave founded the Architectural
Museum, I turned my attention very much to
French carving, of the type of that in the Sainte
Chapelle, and later I urged the adoption of a bolder
style, using natural foliage in a great degree, but
attempting to get something of the boldness of
the best conventional types. I think that this
has been admirably attained by Mr. Brindley6 In
some of my later works, as at Kelham Hall,
.Wellington College Chapel, and the Town Hall at
Preston. These are examples. . of. carving of a -
very high order. My friend Mr. Street, during
this period, has been working up the pure conven
tional foliage, Mr. Earp7 being his handpiece, and
he has done very great things. I think that his
work and mine together, for the last fe\v years or
so, have been a noble developement. He can lay
claim to his, more personally than I can to mine,
c Of the firm of Farmer and Brindley, whose studios are in
the Westminster Bridge Road.— Ed.
7 His studios are now in the Finchley Road.— Ed.

2 1 6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
as he gives draAvings, while I do my work by influ
ence ; but the results in both cases are of a high
order. Let us push on to perfection in this noble
race. Metal-work has, during the period in question,
made considerable progress, though it has suffered
from its share of the eccentric mania of the day.
Mr. Skidmore8 can claim an eminent place both
in skill, progress, and eccentricity. My own indi
vidual share, has not been great, excepting that I
have had one or tAvo great works carried out, such
as the choir-screens at Lichfield and Hereford
cathedrals. Both of these were designed in full
by myself, and are carried out according to my
designs, in general ; in both, however, as in all his
works, Mr. Skidmore has " kicked over the traces"
wherever he has had a chance. In some cases the
Avork has gained, and in some suffered from this.
Original ideas have been imported, but a certain air
of eccentricity has come in with them. On the
AA'hole the works are both very fine, and especially
the latter. I believe that Mr. Street has made great
progress in metal Avork, acting through a smith at
Maidenhead. I have only seen a little of his
work, but that Avas first rate.
With gold and silver work and jewellery I have
had nothing to do. This is foolish of me, as I
delight in nothing more, but my avocations will"
not permit me. I hope that the Memorial to the
Prince Consort Avill be a success in the Avay of
metal-Avorking, if not invaded by interference on
the one side or by wildness on the other.
How far stained glass has progressed, I am
s Of Coventry.— Ed.

chap. v.J Recollections. 2 1 7
unable to form an opinion. The universal mania
for earliness and eccentricity has here been ram
pant Avith a vengeance, and cligiieishness has had
its full swing. I recollect about 1855, just before
Mr. Clayton 9 established himself in practice, he
designed for me several windows for the clerestory
of the choir of Westminster Abbey ; and though
the windows themselves were late thirteenth cen
tury, he was so strong in the old " Middle Pointed "
theory, that he insisted upon treating his draperies,
&c, in the style of the middle of the fourteenth.
In i860 when he was employed to fill some Avin-
dows in the north transept, so great had been the
change in his views, that he could, with the utmost
difficulty, be kept from making his glass earlier in
style than the stoneAvork itself, and his figures
absolute scarecrows. Yet I believe that he has
never been considered early enough, or grotesque
enough, in his vieAvs for the more learned. Per
sonally I have always been under the disadvantage
of having had no time to obtain such a mastery
over this subject, as would enable me to exercise
that strong influence which I should have desired.
My theory is, that if there is reaj merit in early
christian art — of which I am perfectly convinced-
its merit must of necessity be independent of, and
separable from, its defects and its quaintness ; and
that if Ave believe in our own great revival, Ave are
bound to show our faith by discriminating the
faults from the merits of our originals, and by
endeavouring to produce an art which avoids the
one Avhile it retains the other, and adds to this
Avhatever of better instruction and skill our own
9 Now of the firm of Clayton and Bell— Ed.

2 1 8 " Sir Gilbert Scott.
age can afford. This theory I, from year to year,
endeavour to dun into the heads of those with
whom I have to do. Alas ! as an Hibernian once
said, " The more I tell them to do it, the more
they Avon't do it at all." Either they are such
simple zealots as to believe in the faults of their
masters as implicitly as in their merits, or else they
do not really believe in the revival, and treat the
old examples merely as viewed through a Wardour
Street shop-windoAv, or, as Simonides views an
early codex, as things made only to be forged. I
believe the former to be their real view, but I beg
them to apply their common-sense to the subject
for a little time, and then to act freely for them
selves. As it is, one constantly sees in painted
glass, things which in Punch would pass for very
good jokes, and caricatures in Punch, which, in
glass, would be viewed as true christian art.
Hard-man, or rather his artist Powell, has had
the advantage or disadvantage of a long drilling
O OOO
under Pugin. It made him a first-rate glass-
painter, but on the death of his great master,
instead of turning to old examples, he has been
content to work on upon the material be
queathed to him, which has become from year to
year more diluted, and its loss by dilution being
unsupplied by any infusion of new strength, he has
sunk for the most part into, little more than an
agreeable prettiness, though he occasionally when
he brings his mind to bear strongly upon a par
ticular work, produces really fine things, and his
sense of pleasant colouring is certainly stronger
than that of a great majority of our glass-painters.
The works he did for Pugin have been as yet

chap. Ar.J Recollections. 219
barely surpassed, e. g. those in the Houses of
Parliament. The art of glass-painting has suffered a
great loss from the crochets and ill-nature of a
man Avho of all others was the best qualified to
help it fonvard. I refer to Mr. Whinston. He
had devoted years to the study of old examples,
and no man more thoroughly understood them.
From his profession and education one would
have expected him to prove a wise and judicious
moderator between the excesses of over-excited
partisans of conflicting views. He might have.
done infinite good had he taken up that position.
As it is, he has absolutely throAvn away his van
tage-ground by imitating the worst excesses which
he ought to have corrected, and by appearing as
the almost exclusive advocate of a single type of
glass-painting, and the unmeasured abuser of
every one Avho in the smallest degree differs from
him. This unhappy course has left him literally
without influence, which I the more deeply regret
as I am one who admires with him the particular
phase to which he has attached himself, and go
almost the whole way with him in -my reprobation
of some of the follies which excite his wrath, and
I. feel that his influence and censorship, had they
been judiciously used, would have been of the
most essential service to the cause. As it is, his
bitter invectives render it impossible for any one
to converse with him on the subject, excepting a
fe\v persons who have submitted to act in sub
serviency to his dictation, and who being, naturally,
persons of no great mark, are very far from repre
senting in their Avorks any great advantage received

220 Sir Gilbert Scott.
from his instruction. In one respect, however, he
has been eminently useful. He has, in conjunc
tion Avith Messrs. PoAveli of Whitefriars, effected
very important improvements in the manufacture
of glass for the purposes of glass-painting.
Another great loss Avhich this art has sustained
arose from the premature death of the elder
M. Gerente, of Paris. This gentleman, educated
to another profession, had so earnest a feeling for
art, and directed that feeling so strongly upon
glass-painting, as to devote several years exclu-
siArely to the study of it, and to tracing and draw
ing from ancient examples throughout France.
He told me that, after he had made up his mind
to become a professional glass-painter, he would
not allow himself to execute a single work, till he
had devoted four years, exclusively to the study of
ancient glass-paintings. He Avas a man of most
vigorous talent, of great originality of conception,
and at the same time a very learned antiquary.
From such a man, though at first too antiquarian
in the treatment of his works, the greatest results
might have been hoped for, but Providence willed
it othenvise. After escaping, almost miraculously,
the dangers of the Revolution of 1848, in which
he was taken prisoner by the mob, and actually
set up for execution and the muskets levelled at
him, when he was saved by the accidental inter
ference of one of his own Avorkmen, and after
wards Avas engaged in actual fighting for twenty-
four hours together ; he was cut off in the very
next year, after only eight hours' illness, by the
cholera. He called on me one day in great
agitation ; he had just lost his father by that

chap, v.] Recollections. 221
disease, and, after watching him through his illness,
had been seized with such a panic that he fled
precipitately to England, convinced that if he
stayed in Paris he should die of it. A fortnight
afterwards Le pere Martin called upon me, and
told me that Gerente had returned, had been
immediately seized with cholera, and had died !
He was succeeded by his brother, educated as
a sculptor, Avho has followed up with considerable
success his elder brother's methods.
Among the most promising artists, in this
department are Clayton and Bell, both of them
men who took to art directly and solely from a
natural genius for it. Mr. Alfred Bell Avas a pupil
of my OAvn. He was recommended to me by the
clergyman of his native village, himself an amateur
artist, who had aided his early genius. His pro
ductions at that early age (fourteen) were most
remarkable, and, during the whole time that he
was with me, nothing he had to do seemed to
present any difficulty whatever to him. ; Since
then he has reverted to his original bent for
painting, rather than architecture. I only regret
that he, owing to circumstances, and perhaps to an
over-confidence in his OAvn unaided powers, too
much neglected a regular drilling in the elements
of art. This has prevented his natural talents
exhibiting themselves to full advantage. Mr.
Clayton has been better drilled, and has a stronger
turn of mind, and were it not for the two great
banes of glass-painting, a morbid love of queer
antiquated drawing on the one hand, and the
destructive effect of over-pressure of work on the
other, very great results indeed might be antici-

222

Sir Gilbert Scott.

pated from them. They Avere the first in this
country who became glass-painters, because they
were artists ; but it is a destructive profession, and
if the greatest artist who ever lived had become in
early life a glass-painter, and had had a great run
of business, I do not hesitate to say that his future
fame Avould have been ruined. No real art can
stand against a constant high-pressure and working
against time. Some of Clayton and Bell's pro
ductions are of a high character, but a large pro
portion are'damaged or ruined by one or both of the
influences above-mentioned. Their Avorks are by
no means Avhatever proportioned to their ability.
Ill-luck seems inseparably attached to this most
unhappy art. Three distinct misfortunes dog it's
course at eArery step. First, the multitude of
mere pretenders, or, at best, men of very slender
artistic feeling and less skill, who disgrace and
drag down the art Avhich they profess. Secondly,
the absurd rage for antiquated drawing, which
exercises a ruinous influence upon it. This may
be divided into two classes : one, that of the
pseudo-artists, who imitate or pretend to imitate
old. clraAvings, merely to mask their inability to do
anything better. Their grotesqueness is that of
incapacity. The other is that of artists of a
better class, who, as a simple matter of choice,
follow the oddness of old Avork. This is the
grotesqueness of error. The third misfortune is
the natural consequence of the second. A number
of persons, whether glass-painters or others, dis
gusted at the folly of this deliberate grotesqueness,
run at once into the opposite mistake, and seek to
remedy the evil by means of copies in glass of

chap._ v.] Recollections. 223
actual picture-painting. This again divides itself
into two classes : the pretenders, who, though
incapable of producing works of art at all, calculate
(and successfully) upon the prevalent ignorance,
and produce Avretchecl, mawkish attempts at
picture-painting, which a large proportion of the
public belieA'e in and cry up as something very
fine, but Avhich is really the most sickening of all
things. The culminating specimen of this is,
perhaps, the east windoAV of All Saints Church,
Hastings. The second class consists of really
good or tolerable artists, Avho, falling into this
mistake, do all the mischief in the world by, as it
Avere, gilding an error by art Avhich Avould other-
Avise be pretty good. The leaders of this are the
Munich painters and their patrons in this country,
and the culmination of the error is to be seen in
GlasgOAv Cathedral.1 It is perhaps fortunate that
these painters make use of such contemptible
architectural decoration in their windows that no
one Avho has any real knbAvledge is, in this country,
deceived by them. A feAV classic architects, a
Dean or t\Aro, and a mixed multitude of the semi-
ignorant public form the list of their patrons.
The annoying thing is, that those who know
better give them the best possible excuse for their
error, for- it becomes a fairly open question whether
a person Avill choose reasonably good art united
Avith erroneous principles, or sound principles
Avedded to a grotesque art. It was vexatious
enough that Clayton and Bell, from Avhom better
things might have been hoped, and who have pro
duced fine Avork (as in St. Michael's, Cornhill)
1 And in the Chapel of Peterhouse, Cambridge.--.ED.

2 24 Sir Gilbert Scott.
should, for the most part, deliberately follow in the
wake of the incapables : but it is yet more so, when
a society of painters of the highest class, having
been formed with the express intention of uniting
high art Avith true principles, are found producing
works yet still more -strange than those of any of
their predecessors.2
Let us hope against hope.
In decorative colouring I fear that we are not
much more in advance. Our architects must be
come artists, and then, and not till then, shall we
have a chance of success. Pugin did great things,
but I cannot say much for subsequent progress.
In mosaic Avork and inlays I think we have done
better ; indeed I cannot but think that this is one
of the most promising branches of decorative art,
and one' of the most important, inasmuch as our
climate demands decoration which cannot be in
jured by damp.
In encaustic tiling we have made little progress
since Pugin's time. No one has equalled him in
the designing of patterns, though I think that Lord
Ahvyne Compton greatly excels him in arrange
ments ; while Godwin, of Hereford, comes far
nearer to the texture of old tiles than Minton
does. Incised stone in some degree trenches now
upon tile-Avork, and offers a wide field for pro
gress. I hope that the introduction of it by
Baron Triqueti into Wolsey's chapel at Windsor
Avill prove a cause of advancement in that art, as
2 From the date of this critique it is evidently only to the
very earliest works of Messrs. Morris and Co. that reference .
is here made. — Ed.

chap, v.] Recollections. 225
the employment of enamel mosaic in the same
chapel Avill also, as I trust, in its OAvn particular
direction. The use of high art (as painting and
sculpture) in connexion Avith the revived style,
has not yet made great progress, though I think
it will do so. I will not dwell upon this question ;
for my individual views on the subject, I Avould
refer to my lecture delivered at Leeds in 1863,
and entitled, " The Gothic Renaissance," and to
my book on " Domestic Architecture."
My latest engagement of importance has been
the Memorial to the late Prince Consort. I was
invited to enter a competition for this, Avith some
half-a-dozen other architects. I sent a single
design for the memorial proper, and several for.
the Hall, which Avas proposed at the same. time.
My design for the monument was accepted. My
idea in designing it was, to erect a kind of ciborium
to protect a statue of the: Prince ; and its special
characteristic was that the cibOrium was. designed
in some degree on the principles of the ancient
shrines. These shrines were models of imaginary
buildings, such as had never in reality, been
erected ; and my idea was to realize one of these
imaginary structures with its precious materials,
its inlaying, its enamels, etc., etc. This was an
idea so neAV, as to provoke much opposition.
Cost and all kinds of circumstances aid this oppo
sition, and I as yet have no idea how it may end ;
I trust to be directed aright. [March 10, 1864.]
April, 1865.
I confess that feAV things perplex me more than the
question of our position as the Gothic Revivalists. Q

226 Sir Gilbert Scott.
We commenced, as I have often said, Avithout
premeditation, acting spontaneously from mere
love of it, Avithout. combination, Avithout even
comparing notes, Avith no thought of overthrowing
or supplanting the vernacular classicism, but
merely from an ardent and newly-generated affec
tion for our old architecture; AA'hich led, first, to the
mere study of it, and then, as a natural con
sequence, to its reproduction. Reproduction gra
dually ripened into revival, first for ecclesiastical
purposes, and then for general use : our zeal
increasing as Ave Avent on, Ave now began to flat
ter ourselves that Ave should eventually supplant
the classicism of the day. Our love of the Gothic
led us to a condemnation of the Classic, of. which
at first Ave had never thought : till, at length we
came to entertain a sort of religious horror of all
styles of pagan origin. The formal. and specific
character AAdiich the revival iioav assumed, naturally
led to a more systematic action. At first, free
choice Avas allowed in the variety of Gothic which
each man should adopt for any of his Avorks.
Gradually this Avas seen to be inconsistent with
an organized revival, and it became necessary to
unite in the adoption of our one style. The
" middle-pointed " Avas soon fixed upon, though
some (including myself) held, that Avhatever Avas
valuable in other styles should be translated into
it, so as to make it more comprehensive of all
Avhich was good. Some among us hated other
varieties as much as they did classic, or perhaps
even more, and seemed to think the use of per
pendicular, or Norman, or even early pointed as
nothing short of heresy. This absurdity was,

chap. v.J Recollections. 227
hoAvever, a mere exaggeration of consistency, for
if the revival Avas to be a great reality, it must
have a consistent nucleus ; so that it became
necessary for a man, whose taste for the style
was of an eclectic and general character, to put
restraint upon himself for the sake of maintaining
the unity and consistency of the movement.
I must confess that I regret the rude breaking-
up of this consistent theory. It was begun by the
transference of the claim of sovereignty from mid
dle to early pointed : this Avas followed up by the
attempering of the early style Avith foreign fea
tures ; and eventually by the exclusion of English
Gothic, in favour of French with a mixture of
Italian, and often by a violent exaggeration of
foreign character. This, in its turn, produced a
reaction toAAard our OAvn architecture, and at the
same time in favour of a later style. Had this
brought us back to where Ave once Avere, with all
the advantage of what we had gathered during our
Avanderings, it might have been advantageous ; but
all our movements are in excess, and we seem for
the time at least, to be at sea again, without chart
or compass. All must now be very English and
very late; while by some, liberty is again pro
claimed, and men are left to adopt any style they
may fancy, from the twelfth century to the
eighteenth, Avhile a few still adhere to the ex
aggerated early French or half Italian in vogue
a few years back.
There is one great adAantage attendant upon
these changes, in that they have produced a liberal
spirit as to the varieties of our OAvn architecture,
which renders our restorations more conservative,

228 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and our knowledge more general ; Avhile a study
of foreign architecture cannot fail to supply us
Avith much valuable matter, even though we do not
actually adopt foreign styles. Still, hoAvever, our
position is anomalous. I confess to thinking that
Avhile the foreign rage Avas upon us, Ave Avere gene
rating a secular style peculiarly suited to our own
Avants : but unhappily this Avas caught up by an
ignorant and untutored rabble, and so caricatured
and exaggerated, that its very originators came to
hate it, and can noAV hardly make use of their own
developements Avithout exposing themselves to
ridicule, as adhering to exploded notions, and as
abetting their oA-vn vulgar imitators. This reaction
may Avell lead to an anglicizing of the variety thus
developed, which AArould be in itself desirable:
though I confess to an opinion that a. little touch of
Italian character has the advantages of facilitating
the use of brick, Avith the square sectional forms
Avhich the nature of that material suggests ; of
severing purely secular from religious architecture
in the minds of the public ; and of aAroiding a too
severe clashing between our gothic and our
classic street architecture. If all this can be
obtained Avithout departing too far from English
types, so much the better. A slight infusion of
Italian feeling may also have the advantage of
admitting the free use of round and segmental
arches, \A"hich I feel to be essential to secular
architecture. In our church architecture Ave have, as I con
sider, little reason to depart far from our own
types; though I confess, eAren here, to a tendency to
eclecticism of a chastened kind, and to a desire

chap, v.] Recollections. 229
for liberty to unite in some degree the merits of
the different styles. We ought, I think, to have
periodical conferences between the leaders of the
revival, Avith a view to keeping as much as may be
together ; though unfortunately in these days the
publicity of these conferences is sadly against
their efficiency. I believe that a sort of free
masonry is almost essential here, the differences
of opinions among architects, and the contemp
tuous feelings entertained by one clique towards
another, militating sadly against agreement.

CHAPTER VI.
In the above reminiscences since 1845, I have
confined myself almost Avholly to professional
topics, indeed my intention has been to limit
myself, after the first part of the Avork, to such
subjects. What I have Avritten being intended primarily
for my children, I Avished to give such family
information as Avas wholly beyond their reach, but
after that to give them an outline of my profes
sional career alone, almost to the exclusion of
personal and family matters. I will however
mention that my mother died at Wappenham in
1854. She had for a long time been in very bad
health, having suffered from an oppression of the
brain (Avhether of an epileptic or paralytic kind
I do not knoAv), Avhich had the effect of under
mining her memory to a very painful degree. I
believe that it Avas brought about in some degree
by the intensity of her sorroAV at my father's death,
and it Avas furthered by a sort of excess in her
religious devotions. She would shut herself up
every day for, I think, two hours (or it might not
have been quite so much) for religious reading and
devotion in a cold room in all seasons, and gave
Avay no doubt to emotions calculated to overstrain

chap, vi.] Recollections. 231
the mental system. Her piety was of the most
ardent kind, only equalled by her affection for her
family. She lived, from the time of my father's
death, in a good old house opposite the Rectory at
Wappenham, a house which my father had occu
pied while the Rectory was being built, and which
(as he really only occupied the latter for a year or
so) I got to view as "my home." During my
early " workhouse " days I .was always dropping
in there on all occasions. Later on I Avent there,
I fear, less and less frequently till the time of my
poor mother's decease, though always feeling it to
be my old home. I grieve to -say that from that
time I felt that I had lost my boyish home, and
although my brother and his family were there,
and though my sister Mary Jane lived in a cottage
built- for her in the village, I have never been at
Wappenham again.. This has, during the last two
months since my dear sister's decease, caused me
the most poignant grief. I have felt like one
awakening from a feverish dream, and have almost
madly Avondered . where I have been and what
I have been doing. I earnestly advise young
persons diligently to keep up communication with
their relatives. You do not seem to need it at the
moment, and you feel as if you could do it at any
time, but when death makes a breach in the family
circle, then it is that one's neglect comes back upon
the conscience in a Avay which is almost over
whelming. It seemed at one time as if it would
affect my reason.
In 1848 we lost my father-in-law, Mr. Oldrid,
under circumstances peculiarly painful and dis
tressing. He was an excellent man, of sterling

232 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and exemplary worth. Both he and my mother
died, I believe, in their seventieth year. My
mother-in-law, Mrs. Oldrid, died some years
later, and reached, I think, her eightieth year.
She was a person of great excellence, and of a
very powerful mind, Avhich retained all its vigour
and freshness till the very last. For many
years I saAv much more of her than of my OAvn
mother, the one being in full vigour and energy,
Avhile the other was almost laid aside from the
malady I have mentioned. She frequently came
to stay Avith us in town, and Ave often visited her
at Boston, which became a third home to me.
Her conversation was always lively, amusing, and
instructive. She Avas a sort of female mentor in
our family, Avhile at the same time she was the life
of our party, Avhen she was with us. She departed
this life after a painful illness in 1857. Mr. and
Mrs. Oldrid He buried in the family vault in the
church-yard at Leverton, near Boston, where Mr.
Oldrid had a small estate.
My uncle King died in Jersey in 1856. My
aunt King followed him two months later, to the
very clay, and thus nearly the entire generation
had passed away, which had been the guides and
guardians of my youth, and here I would say,
"Make me to be numbered Avith thy saints in
glory everlasting."
On my mother's side of the family, Mr. Na
thaniel Gilbert of Antigua, her first cousin, the
head and the last of the Gilbert family1 came
1 Southey, in his life of Wesley, says of him, " Mr. Gilbert
was a man of ardent piety . . . Being enthusiastic by constitu
tion, as well as devout by principle, he prayed and preached in

ciiap. vi.j Recollections. 233
over to England for some years (I suppose about
1845), and lived here in very good style for a
long time, occupying Stocks, near Tring, the seat
of his cousin Mr. Gordon. When, however, the
duties on free-groAvn and slave-grown sugar Avere
equalized, he returned precipitately to Antigua,
where he found his circumstances almost ruined by
the change. He shortly afterwards died, leaving
the estate to his widow (and cousin) with a re
mainder to her sister, and after her to the Bible
Society. I daresay the reversion could be pur
chased of them for an old song. The estate
has been so much reduced In value, that my
sister Mary Jane, whose income depended on it,
in some degree, Avas put to some inconvenience for
several years by the failure of supplies fron the old
family source.
As regards my, own personal history, I will
only say that, since Ave ceased to reside in Spring
Gardens, we have lived in all happiness, first at
St. John's Wood, and then at Hampstead, watch
ing the groAving up of our five boys, and have
every reason to bless God for the happiness and
prosperity He has granted us, nearly the only
drawback to Avhich has been my wife's delicate
health.
his own house to such persons as would assemble to hear him
on Sundays, and encouraged, by the facility of which he found
himself possessed, and the success with; which these beginnings
were attended, he went forth and preached to the negroes.
This conduct drew upon him contempt, or compassion, accord
ing as it was imputed to folly or to insanity. But he had his
reward; the poor negroes listened willingly to the consolations
of Christianity, and he lived to form some two hundred persons
into a Methodist Society, according to Mr. Wesley's rules." —
Ch. xxviii. p. 332.

234 Sir Gilbert Scott.
In the earlier part of these remarks I have
alluded to my sister Mary Jane's death. This
A\as the first breach in our immediate family circle
of brothers and sisters since the death of my
brother Nathaniel in 1830, a space of nearly
thirty-four years. How much do we owe to
Almighty God for so long sparing us from so
bitter a grief. Mary Jane had been for some
time in very weak health, though I had hoped that
she Avas getting over it, but this last year (1863)
she Avas attacked more violently than before, and
in the autumn it Avas seen that her sickness would
be unto death. My brother Samuel and his excel
lent wife most kindly asked her to stay with them
at Brighton, knoAving well that it Avas to die
there. I will not attempt to describe her cha
racter, nor the circumstances of her illness and
departure. They will, I trust, be sketched by a
more able hand, but it is delightful to think how
cheerfully and happilyshe passed away from this life
to a better, knowing Avell that her end was coming,
and preparing for it with all cheerfulness and
deliberation, both in temporal and spiritual things.
Her character was one of exquisite beauty ; I have
neArer known anything to surpass it. I saw her
several times during her illness, and no Avord or
expression but of happiness passed, her lips. I
saAv her Avithin a feAv hours of her death, and
Avhen I bid her good night she said, "We shall
meet in heaven." Before I could get back in the
morning her SAveet soul had taken its flight. This
Avas on the 22nd of January last (1864), her age
being Avithin a few days of forty-three years. She
Avas a burning and a shining light, and had been

chap, vi.] Recollections, 235
made instrumental, as one may fairly hope, to the
salvation of many, souls. Our family, with the
exception of my two sisters Euphemia and Eliza
beth, met at her funeral. She lies in the church
yard of Hove, near Brighton. It was a peaceful
and pleasant family party, for, though the occasion
was mournful, a halo of sacred cheerfulness seemed
to hover around every memory of our departed
sister. I confess, hoAvever, that when alone my feelings
were very different, and for some time I suffered
from severe depression, Avhich disappeared Avhen
I was in company. I believe I shed more tears
for my sweet sister than I had ever shed in an
equal time before. I Avas, in fact, haunted with
my own neglectful conduct, and AAas only consoled
by the assurance of my two surviving sisters that
she attributed it wholly to the necessities of my
peculiar practice. I am noAv threatened with, a
second grief. My dear sister Euphemia is suffer
ing from a disease which they say must be fatal,
and which is of a most painful nature. Nothing-
could be more touchingly beautiful than the corre
spondence betAveen her and our sister Mary Jane
during the last feAv months ; each being conscious
of the seeds of dissolution working within them,
and each more anxious, and grieving more^ for the
other than for herself. Hoav earnestly do I wish
that -I could experience the sentiments Avhich have
so wonderfully supported them in these grievous
trials.
March 2yd, 1865^
I re-open my book after closing it for tAvelve

2T.6 Sir Gilbert Scott.

¦o

months, and I must, recommence on subjects
similar to those Avith Avhich I closed it. Two most
heavy afflictions have come upon me during the
interval ; the one expected, the other absolutely
unlooked for. My dear sister Euphemia departed
this life in perfect peace on February 8th last
(1865). I Avill return to this subject by-and-by,
but during our long anticipation of this sad event
Avho Avould have thought that one of the strongest
of our dear boys would be snatched away from us
before her ? My son Albert Henry Avas born in
August, 1 844, a feAV days after our removal from
Spring Gardens to St. John's Wood. During his
infancy and early childhood he showed some ten
dency to water on the brain, accompanied by a
very early intellectual developement. Happily his
health, in the course of a few years, was re-estab
lished ; though we did not for a long time venture
to send him to school, but committed his education
to private tutors, all of whom in succession gave
vis the most flattering accounts of his promise and
talents. We had, indeed, abundant evidence of
the high order of his mind, both as to pOAver and
tone, especially evinced by his facility of compo
sition, which from a very early age was remarkable.
He Avent for a short time to St. Andrevv's College,
Bradfield, where his. progress Avas very satisfactory,
but he was obliged to leave, OAving to a slight
indisposition, which, led us to think that he needed
home care, and he accordingly completed his
preparation for the University under private
tuition. He went to Exeter College, Oxford, at the
beginning of 1 864, and Ave are told by the rector

chap. vi. J Recollections. 237
and the tutor that his progress during the one year
of his. continuance there was really remarkable,
and his conduct in every way exemplary; indeed,
he Avon the respect and affection of all who kneAv
him there.
During his long vacation we were in search of a
new place of abode, Hampstead being too cold for
our younger boys, and, after many disappoint
ments and difficulties, we found a suitable residence
at Ham, in choosing which, and in moving into it,
our son Albert Avas of great assistance, though he
was obliged to return to Oxford before we Avere
quite settled. Who would have imagined that, while
removing for the health of our younger children,
we were so soon to lose their elder and far stronger
brother. He had been exceedingly charmed with
the place Avhen he first visited it with me in-
September, and Avhen he returned in the Avinter
he at once availed himself of its facilities for
boating, and nearly every day Avent with his
brother Alwyne on the river for a row in a
boat, which he had hired for the vacation. Hoav
little did we think that this harmless recreation
would be the cause of so much grief! Often
did I feel exultation at the thought that Ahvyne,
who could not stand even the commencement of
our Hampstead winters, should be able now --to-
row every Avinter day on the -Thames without any
inconvenience; little thinking that, though, the
frail boy stood against it unhurt, the strong man
was destined to quail under its effects.
Albert felt no evil from this exposure till within
a week of the end of the vacation. On Saturday,
January 2 ist, he rowed as usual in the morning,

2 ^8 Sir Gilbert Scott.

¦o

and, after an early dinner, went Avith Ahvyne to
tOAvn. The day Avas sharp and frosty, but with
us at Ham pretty bright, though in London there
Avas a most dense fog. They Avere late in return
ing, having found no little difficulty in groping
their Avay about toAvn. The next day. (Sunday)
Albert complained (as I have since heard) of a
little stiffness in the limbs, but nevertheless went
tAvice to church. On Monday I still knew nothing
of his being unwell, but I afterwards heard that he
complained of stiffness, and said that he would try
to roAV it off. After rowing he had a long run
after a dog. The next day he was very stiff,, and
Ave aftenvards heard that, Avhile reading logic with
Ahvyne, Avhich he usually (and very kindly) did
in the afternoon, he lay down on the floor of his
room, and said he felt as if he Avas going to have
rheumatic fever. We heard nothing of this ; but a
medical man, Dr. Julius, who Avas attending my
son Gilbert, saAv him and gave him some trifling
medicine, saying that it was only stiffness from
rowing. I Avas out all that day. The next morn
ing (Wednesday) he Avas still very stiff, with pains
in all his joints, even to the fingers and toes ; but
the medical attendant, when I told him that I
feared it was rheumatism, said he thought it was
not; In the evening I found him much Avorse, .
and hardly able to walk, and the doctor at once
said that it Avas rheumatism. We put him into a
hot bath and got him to bed, but in the night he
suffered acutely, and the next day was utterly
helpless, unable to move hand or foot. . I had to
be aAvay that day at Salisbury, to attend the first
meeting of the restoration committee. On my

chap, vi.] Recollections. 239
return at night I found him very ill, and the next
day he continued the same. We then, with great
difficulty, carried him down into a larger room.
On Saturday he seemed better, the rheumatism
having left his limbs to a considerable degree, but
the doctor announced that his heart was (as he said,
slightly) affected. He had been somewhat de
lirious at times, but during Sunday night became
more so, and on Monday, January 30th, 1865,
he departed Avithout pain, and apparently with
out consciousness, at about half-past three in
the afternoon. He was interred in Petersham
Churchyard on the folloAving Saturday. I ear
nestly pray God never to let his image be
dimmed in my memory, but to keep it ever fresh
in my thoughts. I doubt not that our Gracious
God will make his dear soul an object precious
in His sight, and will train it. to ever higher and
more exalted happiness. , ^7
- - "*¦$?¦' :f7f-~
April 2 ist, 1865.
I will mention that among a very large number
of letters of condolence of the kindest character,
addressed to us on this sad event, I received one
written by the direction of the Queen, expressing
her warm sympathy with me in my loss.
My. sister Euphemia, whose illness and. death. I
have already alluded to, departed this life in per
fect peace. Her last days Avere happily much
more free from suffering than had been feared,
and her mind was in a state of the most heavenly
and childlike quiescence, happiness and love.
Her life had been one of constant labour for the
good of others, and of constant, unremitting, and

240 Sir Gilbert Scott.
untiring Avork. Her great characteristic was ener
getic, strong-willed devotion to doing good. While
in health, she Avas a person of almost herculean
power of Avork, and was ahvays at it ; and she
continued this far into her illness, and, in lessen
ing degrees, even toAvards the. close of it. The
love and veneration felt for her in the three places
Avhere she had thus ministered (Gawcott, Boston,
and Alford), Avere unbounded.
She added to this robust side of her mental
constitution, a great tenderness of spirit, and an
earnestness of affection, such as one would hardly
have expected from one of so strenuous" a turn of
mind. Her letters breathe a strong, yet tender
love, which is quite beautiful ; and when her illness
came upon her, this became yet more marked.
She Avas a very beautiful letter- Avriter, and I very
much Avish a collection of her letters could be
made. My still heavier loss, Avhich preceded her
death by but eight or nine days, has, in some
degree preoccupied my mind against the sorrow
Avhich her loss Avould otherwise have caused me;
but I feel that one of the very dearest companions
of my early life has been taken from me, and
one of the most loAang of relatives and best of
religious counsellors, though, alas, too little con
sulted. J-urie 1 ith, 1865.
I open this book again to record bereavements.
At the beginning of May, 1865, I lost my
cousin John Scott of Hull,2 the eldest male cousin
- Vicar of St. Mary's. He preached his last sermon on
Easter-day. — Ed.

chap, vi.} Recollections. 241
on my father's side, and one of the loved com
panions of my youth.
I cannot now stop to commemorate him, as
death has since come far nearer to me, and has
removed one of the dearest of my circle of
brothers, and perhaps the very one who seemed
the least likely to be cut off.
My brother Samuel King Scott was seven 01
eight years younger than I, having been born in
November, 1818. He was consequently but a
child of eight or nine years old Avhen I left my
early home : I well remember him, at that time,
as the blithest, most lively and humorous of our
family, and every one's favourite. " Sammy King
is just the thing," was a favourite rhyme in our
nursery, and expressed rudely the general feeling
towards him. His little strokes of wit, even in
those days, were vernacular amongst us, and I
have often told them to my own children. Years
afterwards (I do not recollect whether before or
after my father's death) he was articled to Mr.
Stowe, a surgeon at Buckingham, a little before
my brother John went into partnership with him.
These Avere my early days of workhouse building,
and as Buckingham was the centre of my first
batch of unions, I was often there ; and I have a
lively recollection of the delight I then felt in my
young brother's company. I used to arrive by
mail-cart at seven in the morning, just as he was
getting up, and sometimes on a cold morning I
turned into his bed to supplement my night's rest ;
which had been divided between the top of the
mail to Aylesbury, a short bout of bed at a public-
house there, and what one could get balanced on
R

242 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the mail-cart between there and Buckingham.
These little visits were peculiarly delightful to me,
Sam Avas so jolly and cheery, and his master, Mr.
StoAve, Avas so kind, and took such an interest in
my special pursuits, as Avell as in my favourite
study at the time, geology. Later on, my brother
John and his Avife added to the pleasure of these
little flying visits, so that they are among quite
the bright spots in my memory, Sam was treated
in Mr. StOAve's house not as an apprentice, but
rather as an adopted son.
Years rolled on again, and we had him in Lon
don " walking the hospitals." I was then married,
and Ave lived in Spring Gardens, where he used to
come Avhenever his work allowed ; and very happy
Ave were when he came, though he was working so
hard, and I Avas so busy, and travelling so much
about the country, that our communications were
after all but scanty, though very, very pleasant.
One of his hospital friends, now an eminent phy
sician, told me the other day that he was the
general favourite amongst them. " They all had
their quarrels," he says, " among themselves, but
none of them ever quarrelled with him, though all
went and told him of their quarrels." I ought to
say, that at this time, and I think a good deal
earlier, he had become a sincerely religious cha
racter, and I never heard of a single act or word
of his inconsistent with a strictly conscientious
christian life, though this did not for a moment
clash Avith the natural cheeriness of his lively and
humorous disposition.
As soon as ever he had passed his examinations,
he became a candidate for the office of house-

chap, vi.] Recollections. 243
surgeon to the Sussex County Hospital at Brighton,
but seeing that another candidate had a better
chance than he, he desisted, and accepted the
post, which chanced to be also vacant, of surgeon
to the public dispensary there. The duties of this
office seem to have been that of doctor-general
to the poor of Brighton, and he Avorked at this
for more than a year desperately hard, so much
so, as to injure his health ; but by doing so he won
golden opinions among the most estimable inhabi
tants of the tOAvn, as also among .the medical
practitioners. This led to his being selected by
one of the first surgeons there, Mr, Philpot,
brother to the present bishop of Worcester, as his
partner, and subsequently his successor.
About 1846 he married a daughter of Dr.
Bodley, a highly respected physician, who had
formerly practised at Hull, where he had been
an intimate and valued friend of my uncle and his
family ; but who had retired, and then was living
at Brighton.
He was peculiarly happy in his marriage, its only
drawback being that his family increased at an
unusually rapid rate : so that before he had freed
himself from the burdens incident to commencing
practice, he found himself surrounded by a large
party of children. No man, however, has led a
happier life in every possible way, nor was any one
in his position more loved, valued, and respected.
He Avas the kindest and most hospitable of men ;
always ready to do good, devoted to his work,
and withal a strict, consistent, and unswerving
christian man. I hear of him wherever I go, and
always in the same strain, and the feelings enter-
R 2

244 Sir Gilbert Scott.
tained tOAvards him at Brighton were warm beyond
expression. He Avas of a wonderfully hearty constitution,
and of intense powers of enjoyment; and for many
years he relieved the monotony of active practice
by a month of pedestrianism in the summer. He
had " done " every part of Switzerland, while the
Highlands, North Wales, and the Lake district
had their turns, and sometimes the less romantic
parts of the ..country : for such was his zest for
nature and scenery that no one beauty suffered
Avith him by contrast Avith another, so that the
South Downs or the Surrey hills Avere as charming
to him as if he had never visited Snowdon, Ben
Nevis, or Mont Blanc ; and he enjoyed a little
country residence he Avas in the habit of taking
for his family on the borders of AshdoAvn forest,
Avith as great a zest as the valleys of Switzerland,
or the borders of the Westmoreland lakes ; with
Avhich latter district he Avas as familiar as a moun
tain guide. His knowledge* of geology, botany,
and other branches of natural science, rendered
these trips the more delightful.
Last summer, 1 864, he went again to the Lakes
Avith his two eldest boys, my nephew the Rev. T.
Scott, my son Albert, and another friend, and a
most delightful tour they made, thoroughly ex
ploring all the western half of the district ; and,
stout as he Avas, they say that he was the most
indefatigable of the party, often continuing his
mountain Avalks after some of the younger ones
had been obliged to desist. -.
This proved to be his last expedition. It is
noAv seen that his mountaineering was a mistake.

chap. vi. J Recollections. 245
A stout man of forty-five, working hard, early and
late, day and night, for eleven months in the year,
is unfit, hoAvever strong and Artgorous he may feel,
for exercises belonging either to youth or to the
trained pedestrian. He was conscious of no
effects but Avhat were good, but something Avas
going on within, of which he felt nothing. The
strong man was failing at the heart, but the
danger was unknown and unfelt. So exuberant
were his sensations of health, that he delighted in
playing AA'ith his constitution. He habitually rose
at six, exercised himself for half an hour with
heavy dumb-bells, and then plunged into. a cold
bath. The powerful machine was overstrained at
its one Aveak point.
Early last April he Avent with one of his sons,
and my own son Alwyne, to a place on the South
Downs, and there for the first time felt an oppres
sion in going up hill. The next week he felt it
again, and more sharply, in walking over the
downs to see the reAiew of the Volunteers. It
came on yet more heaAaiy when he was called out
soon afterwards to see a patient in the night, and
shortly after this it came upon him with such
overwhelming violence as to prostrate his strength
and compel him to retire from work.
I ran doAvn to see him at his little retiring place
near Ashdown forest, and found him changed,
from Aigour to feebleness, a broken, prostrated
man ; still in his languor rejoicing in the beauties
of nature, and supported by the consolation of
religion, cheerful and happy, though evidently
conscious of his position.
He was delighted to see me, but I left him with

246 Sir Gilbert Scott:
a strong feeling on my mind that I had looked
upon him for the last time, and I Avept bitter tears
after straining myself to get the last peep of him
standing: at the farmhouse door to see me off.
For a feAv days Ave had better accounts, but ten
days after I had left him, he A\as suddenly called
to a better world, June 9th, 1865.
Last Tuesday we committed his body to the
tomb, to rest not far from that of our dearly
loved sister, Mary Jane, in Hove churchyard.
Nineteen years before I had been present at his
Avedding in the same church.
Thus Avithin less than a year and a half I had
followed to the grave, from the same door and to
the same churchyard, a dear sister and brother,
next to each other in age, and nearer yet in good
ness and love, both far younger than myself, and
one far stronger : both far better. They were
both pleasant and lovely in their lives, and -in
death w^ere not far divided.
My dear brother's heart Avas found to have lost
a large portion of its muscular fibre, which his
physician attributed to a slow chronic inflammation
brought on by too violent exercise ; a practical
warning to the strong man not to glory in his
strength. He was folloAved to the grave by, I believe, all
the medical men in Brighton. His friend and
pastor, Mr. Smith, declared, after the funeral, that _
he had never met Avith a more thorough-going,
consistent christian, or a man more estimable in
every relation of life, and that he never expected
to find his equal. "The memory of the just is
blessed."

chap. vi.J Recollections. 247
All his brothers were present at the funeral, and
many others, both friends and relations.
March loth, 1872...
I have neglected this little chronicle noAV for
nearly seven years — years of mercy and prosperity
in most respects.
In 1870 I was threatened with a fatal disease,
, being suddenly attacked, while at Chester, in the
heart and lungs.
I was detained at the deanery for five weeks
before I could return home : 3 my dear wife Avent
down there to be Avith me, and she brought me
home, and by God's mercy, I was, in the course
of the following spring, sufficiently restored to
resume my usual engagements.
Now after yet another year, a terrible blow has
fallen upon me. My wife had repeatedly been
threatened with heart disease, but had been hither
to mercifully relieved. Last spring she had a. very
alarming attack, but again recovered. In Decem
ber last, while staying in London, she was attacked
by very acute rheumatism in the right shoulder,
which was folloAved by a return of the symptoms
of disease of the heart, Again, however, this ga\re
way to remedies, but again returned. She suffered
from frequent faintness, drowsiness, and swimming
in the head, Avith pain and stiffness about the
region of the heart. Dr. Bence Jones, Avho Avas
consulted, made rather light of it, though his
remedies did not much relieve her. She seemed
' Nothing could have exceeded the kindness of the Dean
and Mrs. Howson under circumstances which cannot but have
occasioned to them great inconvenience.

248 Sir Gilbert Scott.
to get Aveaker, and sometimes kept her room. At
length some other trouble complicated the attack.
She kept her bed, and although I usually went
three times in- the night to see her, while a servant
constantly sat up Avith her, I Avas blind, or nearly
so, to the danger ; though I confess to suffering
from an indescribable internal alarm. Oh ! what
dismay and grief came at length upon me, when,
on February the 24th, she was snatched away
from us during sleep !
Her loss is to me that of one of the wisest and
best of earthly companions, helpers, and advisers.
She was a person of very strong and clear intellect;
of quiet and decided perception of the right thing
to do, under any emergency ; and she was gifted
Avith that decision and courage in which I was
myself naturally deficient.
She has, over and over again, given me advice
of the greatest importance in my profession ; she
was the means of terminating (a quarter of a
century back) my partnership with Mr. Moffatt,
for while I hesitated and delayed, she took the
matter into her OAvn hands, drove to town while I
was away, called on my partner, and unflinchingly
communicated to him my decision.
In training up her children, and managing her
household, she was exemplary, and her intercourse
Avith her friends and neighbours were such as to
secure a lasting friendship and a sincere regard,
which did not cease when Ave removed from the
neighbourhood in which we had been living. One
of her most striking characteristics Avas her wide
spread and open-handed charity. None came to
her and went aAvay empty.

hap. vi. J ' Recollections. 249
My Avife was my second cousin, her mother
eing the daughter of Mr. William Scott of Grim-
lethorpe Hall in Lincolnshire, the eldest, brother
f my grandfather, the commentator. My mother-
i-laAV had knoAvn my father in their youth, but they
iad been for many years separated, until, in 1821,
he brought her only son to Gawcott as a pupil.
rrom that time, the families became intimate, and
in one occasion Mrs. Oldrid brought her eldest
laughter Fanny to Gawcott, when the foundation
/as laid of the regard felt for her by my eldest
irother, which subsequently culminated in their
narriage. I did not form the acquaintance of my cousin
Caroline Oldrid till the winter of 1828, when she,
ind her sister Helen, being then at school at
Dhesham, came over to spend their Christmas
racation with us. I have often heard my wife tell
vith great zest of this. They were to have stopped
hrough the holidays at Chesham, 'but getting
horoughly sick of it, they asked leave -to go to
jawcott, nearly thirty miles off. They walked
)ver to Amersham to meet the Buckingham coach,
.ending on their luggage, and arrived just too late,
>r else the coach was full, I forget which. They
vere not, however, to be stopped, and at once
>rdered out a chaise and posted through the snow
0 Gawcott. I arrived from London for.my Christ-
nas holiday a few days later, and there I met for'
he first time my future wife.
She Avas then a most merry girl of seventeen,
ind a most happy Christmas we spent together.
Nothing could exceed our merriment, and our
constant fun and jokes. My sister Euphemia and

250 Sir Gilbert Scott.
my brother Nathaniel were there, and we were all
in joyous happiness together.
I well remember when our happy meeting came
to an end, what a vacancy and a sort of pang I
felt, Avhich Avhispered to me that some feeling
hitherto unknown was stealing into my heart.
Not long after this, my eldest brother followed
up his early love, and Avas married in the be
ginning of 1830 to Fanny Oldrid. I saw her
sister again for a short time, on her way from
Boston to Goring, where my brother was then
living. My. next meeting Avith her was at Latimers
in April 1 83 1, Avhen Ave were thrown much to
gether, and my early feelings were greatly fostered.
I saAv her again, for a day or two, that year
at Boston on my return from Hull. I well
remember drinking Avine Avith her at a picnic at
Tattershall Castle out of the same silver cup with
an indescribable feeling of pleasure. Again I saw
her in London about 1 833, and two years later, in
the course of the summer of 1835, we were engaged..
She Avas now a matured Avoman of twenty-four,
merry and full of life and fun as . before, but she
had seen much in the interval to subdue and
chasten her spirits, and had become deeply re
ligious. I Avas not even noAv in any fit position for
marriage, and our engagement extended over
nearly three years, during Avhich I regularly visited
Boston. In this I was facilitated by my employ
ment in the erection of several Union houses in
the county. We were married on June 5th, 1838,
being each a little under tAventy-seven years of age.
Our Avedding tour Avas by Southwell and Matlock

chap, vi.} Recollections. 251
to Malvern, thence to Bristol, and home by Avay
of Oxford.
At first, Ave had no house of our own, and lived
in lodgings, my office" continuing to be at. Carlton
Chambers, but soon we found a house to our mind,
in which Ave could unite the two-^-No. 20,4 Spring
Gardens, Avhere my practice has ever since been
conducted,, during a period of thirty-three years.
As our family, however, and my practice both
began to increase we removed (1844) to St. John's
Wood, where we lived for many years.
My wife was ever an admirable helper to me in
my business, always ready with wise advice and
encouragement. At one time, after my separation
from Mr. Moffatt, we were for some years in
straitened circumstances, but she always en
couraged me to face them out boldly, and by
God's blessing they gradually mended till at
length we became very prosperous.
My practice took me much from home, and. she
led a comparatively solitary life. Her great re
laxation Avas when. Ave went to the sea-side, which
we did every year, unless some other tour to
Wales or to the Lakes engaged us. She oc
casionally went with, me on my professional
journeys, but after the birth of our second son,
her health was much undermined, and she became
an indifferent traveller. Once, I remember, Ave
took a little voyage in an open sailing boat, round
the Isle of Wight, with much enjoyment. Later
on, we took to driving excursions in an open one-
horse chaise, which we repeated very often for
many years, going down in this manner to the
4 Now Number 31. — Ed.

2 =.2

Sir Gilbert Scott.

sea-side, usually to the Isle of Wight. This de
lightful custom AA'e kept up to the very last year of
her life. On one occasion Ave Avent from London,
in our OAvn carriage, to the further side of Devon
shire. One of our earliest excursions (not made in this
Avay, though) Avas to Skegness in Lincolnshire, the
retreat of her youthful" days. I. shall never forget
our enjoyment of this plain, unfrequented coast. I
used to take ray Avork Avith me, and often, there-
and elseAvhere, have I marked out my designs on
the sand in a large scale, repeating them, perhaps,
on paper in the evenings.
Our favourite Avatering-place, however, was
Shanklin, where we very often went, occupying
usually the residence of the absentee squire, a
rather large though cottage-like house, with
charming gardens and thick plantations. My
wife delighted in the seclusion of this quiet spot:
On one occasion we took another house there,
the grounds, of Avhich extended to the very edge
of the " Chine," and which proved to be haunted.5
5 I well remember the circumstances. Every evening after
dark, footsteps, as of a man pacing slowly up and down the
verandah, upon the garden front of the house, were distinctly-
to be heard. We at first took it to be the gardener. Finding
that this was not the case, we boys used to lie in wait, and
when the footsteps were heard, leap out into the verandah.
I can well recollect doing thus upon a bright moonlight night,
and our amazement at finding no one. This failing, we
stretched strings across the track, so as to render it impossible
for any one to Avalk there in the dark without stumbling, but
these interfered in no way with the even regularity of the strange
footfalls. Another time we strewed the flagging with sand,
and when the footsteps were again heard, we went out with
5. lantern and carefully examined the sanded pavement : not

chap, vi.] Recollections. 253
Our last visit to the Isle of Wight was some
twelve or thirteen years back. After staying a
time at Shanklin, but not in our favourite home,
we took a house at Niton, called La Rosiere, Avhich
we greatly liked. We found, however, by repeated
experience, that, much as we loved this charming
island, it did not really suit my dear wife's health,
being too relaxing. We, one year, tried Sea View,
near Ryde, but at last we gave it up, and in future
a trace of any kind was to be found. I do not remember
that we ever thought of there being anything supernatural in
the matter, only the noises were unaccountable, and so, strongly
piqued our curiosity. Our groom, who slept in the house,
came one morning about this time to my mother, and asked
for leave to go to his home. When pressed for his reason for
this sudden wish, he stated that he had in the early dawn seen
by his bedside a ghostly female figure, from which he inferred
that his mother, his only female relative, was in danger. He
was with some" difficulty persuaded to wait the result of a letter
to his mother, who of course was found to be well enough. We
thought no more of this, judging it, in spite of the extraordinary
impression which it had evidently made upon him, to be nothing
but a dream of indigestion. More than a year after this, Ave
happened to meet some friends of ours, who, as Ave then found,
had occupied the same house during part of the following
season. They asked us whether we had not been disturbed
by ghostly noises , and so forth, and told us that they had
themselves been so annoyed, that they had had to leave the
house, and that after giving it up, they had ascertained that
every one in the village knew the house to be "haunted," but
that the fact was carefully kept secret lest the letting value of
the villa should suffer. * The village story goes, I know nothing
of the truth of this, that in that house in about 1820, a wicked
uncle murdered his niece and ward in a cellar, which is
accessible only by a trap-door in the floor of the room in which
our groom slept. The old gentleman is said to have been
accustomed to pace up and down that verandah after dark, for
many years, during which the crime remained undetected. I
attach no particular value to these facts myself, but as my
father has referred to them, and the evidence is first-hand, it

254 Sir Gilbert Scott.
went to St. Leonards, where we had bitter ex
perience of feArers during two succeeding Avinters,
due not to the place itself, but to the bad con
struction of the houses we happened to take. We
persevered, and in subsequent visits found it
perfectly healthy. We at that time Avere living at
Hampstead, Avhich Ave found too cold for some of
our boys in the Avinter ; which led to the painful
break-up of our party every year, my wife and the
younger ones spending the winter at St. Leonards.
She thus became almost an inhabitant of that
place, and formed many friendships, becoming
knoAvn' there, as Avas the case Avherever she re
sided, as a ready helper of the poor.
The causes above referred to led us, in the
autumn of 1864 to leave Hampstead, after a long
search and many projects, for Ham, near Rich
mond. I have already related the most heavy
trial Avhich overtook us very shortly after making
this change. It Avas a life-long sorroAv to my dear
wife. On one occasion only my dear wife Avent with
me abroad.- Her health had rendered her so poor
a traveller that she ahvays shrank from it ; but at.
length, in 1863, she made up her mind to venture,
and was in the highest degree delighted. Our
tour was not long as to distance, though it spread
it may be worth while to give it. The footfalls, the attempts
made to discover their cause, the fact that the groom made
that statement to my mother, and that he was beyond a doubt
sincerely alarmed, I can vouch for. I also heard myself the
statement of the lady who rented the house the next season.
Of the rest I can only say —
" I know not how the truth may be,
I tell the tale as t'was told to me." — Ed.

chap, vi.] Recollections. 255
over some time. We went by Boulogne and
Amiens to Paris, where we stopped a fortnight in
a pleasant private hotel overlooking the gardens of
the Tuilleries. We then went on to Rheims, and
thence, by the exquisite valley of the. Meuse, to
Namur and Brussels, Avhere she stayed, with our
second son and a friend, while I made a rush to
attend the consecration of my church at Hamburg.
We returned by steamer from AntAverp to London.
Curiously enough, I have never myself been abroad
since then,6 not liking to leave her for so long a
time as it would have required.
One of our subsequent trips was into Devon
shire. We went in our own carriage, with post-
horses hired at Petersham, travelling by stages of
twenty or thirty miles, by Reading, Marlborough,
Chippenham, Clifton, Bridgewater, and Minehead
to Lynton, wrhere Ave. stayed a fortnight. We had
great fun in going from Minehead to Lynton.
Our Petersham post-horses not being trustworthy,
we drove four-in-hand from Minehead over the
noble piece of table-land, 1 100 feet high, Avhich
intervenes. At Lynton we were lodged in the
best situated house in the place, belonging to Sir
 Smith. The situation Avas simply enchant
ing, but to my wife it was like an exquisite prison,
as she could never get down to the sea nor visit
the finest scenery. We accordingly transferred
ourselves, again with four horses, to Westward-
ho, and subsequently drove straight across the
country to Sidmouth. • Finally Ave drove back
through Dorset and Wilts, along the old, but
noAv unfrequented roads— a beautiful mode of
6 This was written in 1872.— Ed.

256 Sir Gilbert Scott.
seeing the country, though subject to the incon
venience arising from the deterioration of the inns.
After 1869, Ave never returned to Ham, but,
after a visit to Worthing and Brighton, we took
for three years a charming residence — -Rook's-nest,
near Godstone.
This place Avas an elysium to my dear wife,
though trouble followed us up. On the day of our
arrival there her eldest sister7 died. The next
summer she had to go into Lincolnshire to nurse her
second sister, whose life she was the means of saving.
ToAvards the end of 1870 my own health failed,
and she had then to go to Chester to nurse me.
Shortly afterwards she Avas herself attacked in the
heart. Our eldest son, and subsequently our
second son John, were also taken ill, and then
came my greatest trouble — her oaati illness and
departure, brought about mainly, as I think, by
her solicitude for others.8
My dearest wife, as I have said before, Avas a
deeply religious "person. Although she read ex
tensively on all subjects, those bearing upon
religion Avere her favourite topics. Her early
training, like my own, had been strictly " evangeli
cal." Her parents had at one time, owing to the
Avretched state of the church at Boston, become
Baptists, and she . was not baptized until she Avas
adult. This took place at Latimers church in
' Wife of the Rev. Thomas Scott, Rector of Wappenham,
Northants, my father's eldest brother. — Ed.
8 My father, after her death, made it a practice, so often as
the thought of her recurred to his mind to pray silently for her,
and whenever, being out of doors he had occasion to mention
her name, he was accustomed to raise his hat while he offered
this tribute of natural piety.-— Ed.

chap, vi.] Recollections. 257
1 83 1. I was there at the time, but did not witness
the service.- Old Mr. King, my uncle's father,
was one of the Ayitnesses, and Ave have a Bible
Avhich he gave her on the occasion.
She Was ever after, and had been in - heart
before, a devoted member of the Church of
England ; though broad and liberal in her vieAvs,
and delighting in piety Avherever met with.
When we first married, and for many years
afterwards, Ave attended St. Martin's Church,
where Sir Henry Dukinfield was vicar. She
greatly delighted in his ministrations, and even
when Ave moved to St. John's Wood, we continued
to drive twice on the Sunday tp St. Martin's, till
he resigned the incumbency. He was godfather
to our youngest son, Dukinfield Henry ; his
other sponsors being Mr. and Mrs. Austen, Avho
chanced to be connexions of Sir Henry, though
my dear wife's acquaintance with them was inde
pendent of this, having been formed much earlier,
during her visits to my brother at Goring, where
the Tilsons, of whom Mrs. Austen Avas one,
resided ; my Avife and Mrs. Austen were devoted
friends. Her most intimate friend when at Ham was a
Roman Catholic, an excellent and deeply-injured
lady, Avho used on one day in every week to spend
an afternoon Avith her, confiding to her in private
her deep sorroAvs.
The following letters were written to me by this
lady, on hearing of my dear wife's decease _ — ¦
" My dear Mr. Scott, — I cannot indeed find
words adequate to express my sorrow and sym-
s

258 Sir Gilbert Scott.
pathy at the sad intelligence contained in. your
most kind letter just received. I heard the report
ort Sunday evening, but Avould not believe" it, until
I went on Monday morning to see Mrs. Ham
mond, from Avhom I found, alas, that it Avas but
too true. If I feel overcome Avith sorroAV at the
loss of so dear a friend, what must be the grief
of her bereaved husband and children ! and truly
does my heart bleed for. you. Under so severe a
blow nature must have its vent ; but I know that
you will not grieve as those Avithout hope, for your
dear Avife has literally ' gone to sleep in the Lord,'
and she Avhom you so deeply mourn is only gone
before, to await that happy day Avhen you will
both meet again in the bosom of your God. I feel
that I cannot thank you sufficiently for having, in
the midst of your own heartrending sorroAV, so
thoroughly- appreciated my friendship towards our
dear departed one. That our good God may be
Avith you, all in your trouble, is the sincere prayer,
my dear Mr. Scott, of yours most sincerely, and
with the deepest sympathy, " K. H."
In a postscript, she speaks of her as one of
the most Christian women she has known. Again
she writes : "If the prayers of an habitually
sorrowful heart can avail aught, rest assured that
in my communion to-morrow I will pray for you
and yours with all the fervour of my soul, that our
good God in His own good time may heal the Avound
He has Himself inflicted, by taking from you the
best of Avives, and from your sons. the tenderest of
mothers. In this neighbourhood -there is but one

chap. \ri.J Recollections. 259
Avail of AA-oe from all, both gentle and simple, who.
have had the privilege of her acquaintance."
From the Rev. G. W. Weldon,0 a man of great
piety and talent, Avith whom she was on very
friendly terms when Uving at St. John's Wood, I
received the folloAving : — <r I have just read Avith
sorroAV the tidings of your recent sad bereavement.
Though years have passed since Ave met, the deep
feeling of personal attachment for her who is
gone has never changed. Allow me to add my
sympathy to that of your other friends. By bitter
— very bitter experience- — I know what the heart
feels at such a crisis, and how little even the
kindest Avords avail to touch the sore spot. I
shall only add one word, and that shall be in
the form of. a prayer. May the Lord soon ac
complish the number of His elect, and hasten
His kingdom."
I ought to have mentioned, among our summer
outings, that of 1868, when, instead of going to
the seaside, Ave took a furnished house for a
couple of months at Wrotham, in Kent.
Wrotham Place is" a pleasant old Elizabethan
house, in part perhaps earlier, of red brick and
stone, A-ery picturesque, and Avith a fine old hall,
noAv used as a sitting-room ; my Avife loved it much,
and greatly enjoyed her stay there, and the more
so, as the country around is very beautiful, and
as she there made several very agreeable friend
ships. She possessed a noble mind, and Avas devoted
to reading and deep thought, sometimes indulging
in speculative views especially as to the unseen
9 Now of St. Saviours, Chelsea. —En.
S 2

260 Sir Gilbert Scott.
world. Every book Avhich she could get on such
subjects she read Avith avidity. She Avas also
much addicted to mental study.
She took much interest in my profession, and
often aided, encouraged, and corrected me in its
pursuit. Her criticisms on my designs Avere ahvays
true, and, as I usually followed them, were very
sennceable. My profession, and its overbearing and per
plexing demands on my time and on my thoughts,
although it provided her Avith the means of living
in great comfort, Avas also a cause of much loss
of happiness. I Avas always working under high
pressure, ever in a hurry, too often therefore out
of humour, and in the evenings jaded, tired and
oppressed. My days were usually spent aAvay
from her, and my time was greatly taken up by
long journeys, so that her life Avas on the Avhole a
very solitary one. Our having no daughters
greatly added to this disadvantage. I Avish I
could look back upon having done my utmost to
introduce amusements and recreations to compen
sate for this, but alas ! I did not. My life past is
made- up of subjects for regret. All. I can say is,
that I worked hard, and endeavoured to provide
for her and for my children what they needed for
their material Avell-being.
In appearance, my wife Avas, in her latter years,
very remarkable, for though she lived to be sixty
years of age, she had scarcely any appearance of
the effects of age upon her, and few supposed her
to be even fifty. There Avas not a wrinkle on her
face, and her hair was very little touched with
grey. She was peculiarly dignified and stately in

chap. vi. J Recollections. 261
her deportment. She only once ventured in any
formal way into print. I wish I had encouraged
her to do so more. This Avas a little pamphlet on
the state of the lower- orders, in London more
especially, and is, in many respects exceedingly
good.

CHAPTER VII.
July nth, 1872.
I RESUME, after an interval of some seven years,
the statement of my personal and professional
reminiscences. I think I had stated before this interval the
preliminary circumstances of the Memorial to the
Prince Consort. As, for example, that I had, for
my OAvn personal satisfaction and pleasure, at the
time Avhen a monolithic obelisk, 150 feet high, was
thought of, endeavoured to render that idea con
sistent Avith. that of a christian monument. This
I effected by adding to its apex, as is believed to
have been done by the Egyptians, a capping of
metal, that capping assuming the form of a large
and magnificent cross. The (so-called) "Iona"
cross is, in fact, the christian version of the obelisk,
and though the idea of a cross of metal on a
colossal- obelisk is different from this in type, it is
not so in idea. The faces of the obelisk I pro
posed to coA-er Avith incised subjects illustrative
of the life, pursuits, &c, of the Prince Consort.
The obelisk was to have had a bold and massive
base, at the angles of which Avere to be placed
four granite lions, couchant, after the noble Egyp
tian model. The Avhole was to be raised on an

chap, vii.] Recollections. 26

o

elevated platform, approached by steps from all
sides. I sho\ved the draAving to the Queen, though
not till after the idea of the obelisk had been finally
abandoned. I made my design for the actual memorial also
con amore, and before I was invited to compete
for it. Though I say con amore, in one sense it
was the reverse, for I well remember how long
and painful was the effort before I struck out an
idea which satisfied my mind. Why this was so
I know not, but such was the effort that it
made me positively ill. My revilers will say that
this ought to have been the result of my success,
rather than of my previous failures ; be this as it
may, I remember vividly the contrary fact, and
the sudden relief when, after a long series of
failures, I hit upon what I thought the right idea.
, I do not recollect that this Avas derived con
sciously from the ciboria AA'hich canopy the altars
of the Roman Basilicas, although the form is the
same, but it came to me rather in the abstract as
the type best suited to the object, and proved
then to be an old acquaintance appearing, for the
first few moments, incognito.
Having struck out the idea, which, when once
conceived, I carried out rapidly, the two next
thoughts Avhich occurred to. me were, first, the
sculptured podium illustrating the fine arts; and
secondly, the realization in an actual edifice, of the
architectural designs furnished by the metal-work
shrines of the middle ages. Those exquisite pro
ductions of the goldsmith and the jeweller profess
in nearly every instance to be models of architec
tural structures, yet no such structures exist, nor,

264 Sir Gilbert Scott.
so far as Ave know, ever did exist. Like the
charming architectural visions of the older poets,
they are only in their primary idea founded upon
actual architecture, and OAve all their more gor
geous clothing to the inspiration of another art.
They are architecture as elaborated by the mind
and the hand of the jeweller ; an exquisite phan
tasy realized only to the small scale of a model.
My notion, Avhether good or bad, was for once
to realize this jeweller's architecture in a structure
of full size, and this has furnished the key-note of
my design and of its execution.
The parts in which I had it in my power most
literally to carry out this thought were naturally,
the roof Avith its gables, and the fleche. These
are almost an absolute translation to the full-size
of the jeweller's small-scale model. It is true
that the structure of the gables with' their flanking
pinnacles is of stone, but the filling in of the
former is of enamel mosaic, the real-size counter
part of the cloissonne enamels of the shrines,
Avhile all the carved work of both is gilded, and is
thus the counterpart of the chased silver-gilt
foliage of shrine-Avork. All above this level being
of metal, is literally identical, in all but scale, with
its miniature prototypes. It is simply the same
thing translated from the model into reality, having
the same beaten metal-work, the same filagree,
the same plaques of enamel, the same jewelling,
the same figure-Avork in metal ; and each with the
very same mode of artistic treatment which we
find in the shrines of the Three Kings at Cologne,
of our Lady at Aix-la-Chapelle, of St. Elizabeth
at Marburg, of St. Taurin at Evreux, and in so

chap, vii.] Recollections. 265
many other Avell-known specimens of the ancient
jeweller's craft. For the perfect carrying out of
this idea I am indebted to the skill of Mr. Skid
more, the only man living, as I believe, who AAas
capable of effecting it, and who has Avorked out
every species of ornament in the true spirit of the
ancient models.
The carving has been equally well executed by
Mr. Brindley.
The shrine-like character I proposed to carry
out in the more massive parts of the structure by
means of the preciousness of the materials. In
one respect I failed. The use of marble for the
arches, cornices, &c., proved to be too costly,
which led me to content myself with Portland stone.
The rest, however, is all of polished granite or
marble from the platform upAvards, Avhile below
that level unpolished granite is used.
The sculptors, with three exceptions, AA'ere not
nominated by me, but by the Queen, the exceptions
being Mr. Armstead and Mr.' Philip, who have
executed the sculpture of the podium and the
bronze figures at the angles; and Mr. Redfern,
Avho modelled the greater part .of the figures in
the fleche. I must say of the latter that the
models were much superior to. the execution in
metal. Of the sculptors of the podium, Mr.
Philip had long been known to me, and Mr.
Armstead had come under my notice during the
great Exhibition of 1862 through his beautiful
figure-groups on the Outram shield, and his
designs for historical subjects for Eatrington Hall,
Warwickshire. Being men of less established fame
than the older sculptors, they undertook the. work

266 Sir Gilbert Scott.
at a far loAver price than these would have done,
and, as it proved, to their OAvn cost.
In my OAvn opinion the result places them on
quite as good an artistic footing as most of their
more academic companions ; indeed, I am mis
taken if to Mr. Armstead will not be eventually
awarded the palm among them all, or at least an
equal position Avith the best.
I think I ought to have exercised a stronger
influence upon: the sculptors than I have done.
My courage rather failed me in claiming this, and
I AAas content to express to them my general vieAvs
both in Avriting and viva voce. I should mention,
however, that before the Avork was commenced a
large model of the entire monument had been
prepared under my OAvn direction. This was made
by Mr. Brindley, but the sculpture was by Mr.
Armstead. The sculpture had been drawn out in a general
AAay on the first elevations, partly by Mr. Clayton
and partly by my eldest son. From these general
ideas Mr. Armstead made small-size models for
the architectural model, and imparted to the
groups a highly artistic feeling.
Without derogating from the merits of the
sculpture as eventually carried out, it is but just
to say that I doubt whether either the central
figure or a single group, as executed, is superior to
the miniature models furnished by Mr. Armstead.
They remain to speak for themselves ; while the
two sides of the podium and the four bronze
figures on the eastern front, Avhich he designed,
give a fair idea of what his models Avould have
proved, if carried out to the real size.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 267
I mention this in justice both to him and to
myself, as his small models were the carrying out
of my original intention, and have in idea been the
foundation of the actual result.
The sculpture Avas placed under the special
direction of Sir Charles Eastlake ; after his death
under that of Mr. Layard ; and finally under that
of Mr. NeAvton, so well known as the discoverer or
recoverer of the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus.
The enamel subjects were not only designed,
but drawn out in full-size coloured cartoons by
Mr. Clayton, and from these executed by Mr.
Salviati, at Venice.
The structural work has been admirably carried
out by Mr. Kelk, and his representative, Mr. Cross.
I have been the more particular in my outline of
this work at the present moment, because the
memorial has just now (last Aveek) been opened
by the Queen, complete (in the main), Avith the
exception of the central figure, which has been
delayed, first, by the lamented decease of Baron
Marochetti ; and, since then, by the long, illness
of Mr. Foley, contracted Avhile correcting his
model in situ.
The Queen has been graciously pleased to ,
award me on the occasion the honour of knight
hood. Oh that she were with me Avho I confess
to have so long and so earnestly wished might
live to be the beloved sharer of this honour ; noAv
in her absence but a name !
I shall have, I believe, to bear the brunt of criti
cisms upon this work of a character peculiar, as I
fancy, to this country. I mean criticism premedi
tated and predetermined wholly irrespective of the

268 Sir Gilbert Scott.
merits of the case. I need not enumerate in full
the various strictures which have already been
made. Most of them are groundless, some Avholly'
untrue, some merely stupid, and most of them
simply malicious. I will name, however, a feAV.
i. That the supports of the fleche are invisible,
beino. concealed Avithin the haunches of the vaults :
a fault, hoAvever, if such it be, Avhich it shares
Avith all the great fieches of the middle ages.
2. That the angle piers do not appear strong
enough for their AA'ork. This is, of course, a matter
of feeling : to my eye they do look strong enough,
and in some points, Avhere they have been acci
dentally increased, they look too bulky. I will,.
however, say that they did look too slight in the
original draAving, a defect Avhich I Avas probably
the first to perceive, and which I corrected with
great care.
3. That much of the height of the fleche is lost.
So is it in the case of every spire that ever Avas
erected, as they are all of necessity much higher
than they appear. I will only add upon this point
that the greatest fault in the design, in my own
OAvn opinion, is that the fleche is too high. I was
rather driven to this by a particular influence, and
I noAv regret it.
4. That the outline of the fleche is broken.
This is due to the figure-sculpture, but it was
never intended to have a purely pyramidal outline
like that of a shrine.
5. That the podium being of Avhite marble
weakens the structural effect.
This is in theory true, but the difficulty Avas
deliberately faced, inasmuch as the sculptured

chap, vii.] Recollections. 269
podium is the very soul of the design, and is Avell
worth a minor sacrifice. The high relief of the
figures Avill, Avhen the first glare has gone off,
relieve this Avhiteness, Avhile the vast counterforts
of sculpture at the angles compensate for any loss of
apparent strength, and the plain massiveness of the
whole of the substructure tends to the same result.
6. That the great mass of steps takes off from
the height of the superstructure.
This I Avholly deny ; its effect is the reverse.
This being my most prominent Avork, those Avho
wish to traduce me will naturally select it for their
attacks. I can only say that if this work is
worthy of their contempt, I am myself equally
deserving of it, for it is the result of my highest
and most enthusiastic efforts. I will also con
gratulate our art,, so industriously vilified by the
same party, on this, that if the Prince Consort
Memorial is worthy of contempt among the works
of our age, it argues favourably of the present
state of the art among Avhose productions this is
selected for vituperation.
The folloAving is a letter written to me spon
taneously by Mr.1 Layard, whom I had not seen
for some years. July ij\.th, 1872.
My dear Mr. Scott, — I have been in Eng
land since the beginning of last week, and I
have visited the memorial almost every day that
I have been in London. I must offer you my
warmest congratulations upon the great success
which has been achieved. It is a magnificent
1 Now Sir Austen H. Layard, English Ambassador to the
Porte.— Ed.

270 Sir Gilbert Scott.
monument, which will be an honour to the
country and to you. I had always been of
opinion — an opinion Avhich on more than one
occasion I have expressed to the Queen— that
Avhen the memorial AAas completed and fully ex
posed to vieAV, men of knoAvledge and of fair and
impartial judgment Avould be astonished at its
beauty and originality. Judging from AArhat I hear
said around me, this is the case. Of course there
will be adverse criticisms: the most perfect work.
in the Avorld Avould not escape them, but they are
not Avorthy of notice, and will in a very short time
be forgotten. Those who have had anything to
do Avith the Press know from Avhence' these
criticisms generally come, and can trace the
motives for them.
In this case they appear to represent the opinions
of one prejudiced and unfriendly man, opposed to
the judgment and taste of the million. I am con
vinced that if so grand and splendid a monument
had been erected in Italy or In Germany, our coun
trymen Avould haA^e gone many hundreds of miles
to see it, and Avould have pronounced it an example
of the vast superiority of ..foreign- over English
taste. But I am equally convinced, that such a
monument could not have been erected out of
England. I trust that the statue of the Prince
may soon be in its place, and that it may worthily
complete this glorious shrine. Yours very truly,
A. H. Layard.
July nth, 1872.
When I left off, in 1865, the account of my

chap, vii.] ,. Recollections. 271
professional career I had not mentioned the
terminus of the Midland' Railway which had not
indeed then come into my hands. "I was persuaded
(after more than once declining) by my excellent
friend Mr._ Joseph .LeAvis, a leading director of
that Company, to enter into a limited competition
for their ne\v terminus. I made my design Avhile
detained for seAreral weeks with Mrs. Scott by
the severe illness of our son Alwyne, at a small
seaside hotel at Hayling in September and
October, 1865. I completely worked out the
whole design then, and made elevations to a large
scale Avith details. It was in the same style Avhich
I had almost originated several years earlier, for
the government offices, but divested of the Italian
element. The great shed-like roof had . been already
designed by Mr. Barlow, the engineer, and as if by
anticipation its section was a pointed arch.
I Avas successful in the competition, and the
building has ever since been in progress, having
been undertaken in sections, of which the last is
noAV ordered.
This work has been spoken of by one of the
revilers of my profession Avith abject contempt. . I
have to set off against this, the too excessive
praise of it Avhich I receive from other quarters.
It is often spoken of to me as the finest building
in London ; my own belief is that it is possibly too
good for its purpose, but having been disappointed,
through Lord Palmerston, of my ardent, hope of
carrying out my style in the Government offices,
and the subject having been in the meanwhile
taken out of my hands by other architects, I was

272 Sir Gilbert Scott.
glad to be able to erect one building in that style in
London. I had carried it out already in a few in
stances,^ the provinces; of Avhich the most remark
able are the ToAvn Hall at Preston, Kelham Hall
in Nottinghamshire, and the Old Bank at Leeds.
About the same time I Avas commissioned to erect
the new University buildings at Glasgow, a very
large work, for which I adopted a style Avhich I
may call my own invention, having already initiated
it in the Albert Institute at Dundee. It is simply
a thirteenth or fourteenth century secular style
with the addition of certain Scottish features,
peculiar in that country to the sixteenth century,
though in reality derived from the French style of
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. I think
the building, though as yet incomplete, has been a
success. I ought to have named in conjunction with the
Prince Consort Memorial, the decoration of Wol-
sey's Chapel at Windsor as a memorial of the
same kind.
The vaulting of this chapel, formerly of timber
and plaster, has been . carried out in stone with
panels of mosaic ; and thewalled-up AvindoAV of the
west end is filled with figure-work in the same
material. It Avas my intention that the walls
beloAV the AvindoAvs should be covered with frescoes
by Mr. Herbert, but for these were substituted, at
the suggestion of her Royal Highness the Princess
of Prussia, subjects in marble-inlay by Baron
Triqueti. This has been a source of deep disappointment
to me, as it will, I fear, be to all Wers of art. The
Baron's work is not, in- my opinion, worthy of his

chap, vn.] Recollections. 273
fame or of its object, and I have had myself to
suffer through it a good deal of vexation, more
perhaps through the injudicious ardour of his
friends than from any intention of his own. I
have no doubt that my traducers will, when the
time comes, be delighted Avith this opportunity of
blaming me for matters wholly beyond my control.
Within the last year or tAvo I have gone on
with the government buildings, completing the
group by the erection of the Home and Colonial
Offices. I have had to make several attempts at
the design for these latter offices, OAving to new
directions from successive administrations; and
finally my scheme has been greatly impoverished
for economy's sake. The principal damage has
been done by striking off the two corner towers,
which are much needed to relieve the monotony
of so vast a group. I live in hopes of their
restitution. The New Law Courts.
I have now to chronicle a great failure. I Avas
invited, early in 1866, to compete, with a limited
number of architects, for the New LaAV Courts. .
At first I declined, OAving to some absurd con
ditions then exacted, but on the withdrawal of
these, I consented, and at once threw myself
vigorously into the work. The instructions were
unprecedented in voluminousness, and the arrange
ments were beyond all conception complicated
and difficult, Avhich was further enhanced by the
insufficiency of the site. The business of every
conceivable department of the law had to be

274 Sir Gilbert Scott.
studied, and its officers consulted over and over
again. It took me, I think, from April to Sep
tember to get up my information and throAV it into
anything like shape, and at length I succeeded in
packing together, in Avhat I had reason to think
a good form, every room required, to the number,
I should think, of some thousands. We were told
that arrangement alone was to settle the com
petition, so I neglected the purely architectural
Avork until a late period. Then, hpAvever, I took
it vigorously in hand, working at it at odd times,
while my more practical study Avas going on, and
then taking a month at the sea-side for this
department exclusively, besides much subsequent
Avork, upon my return home. No previous com
petition had involved me in such an amount of
labour. I do not knoAv that my general architectural
design Avas of much merit, though I think that it
Avas fully as good as any recent work I know of
by any other architect. Of its parts, I am bold
to say, that many exceeded in merit anything that
I knoAv of among modern designs. I say this
especially of the portico towards the Strand, of
the internal cloister, and of the domed central
hall ; nor Avere other parts devoid of merit, but I
refer to the drawings (some of Avhich, by the way,
Avere spoiled and vulgarized by bad colouring,
through which much exquisite outline drawing was
unhappily ruined). The two surveyor-assessors
aAvarded the greatest number of marks to Mr.
EdAvard Barry, and the second greatest number
to myself, Avhile'the heads of law offices awarded
the greatest number to me, and the second to

chap, vii.] Recollections. 275
Mr. Waterhouse. The competition judges wishing
to follow the advice of the assessors (noAv added
to their own number), desired to give their verdict
in favour of Mr. Barry, but as his architecture was
approved of by no one, they conceived the idea
of linking on to him some other architect, in Avhose
architectural powers they had more confidence,
and they pitched upon Mr. Street, whose arrange
ments no one had ever spoken in favour of.
I at once protested against this as a palpable
departure from the conditions, Avhich Avere, not to
take the sum of two men's merits and balance this
aggregate against the single merits of others, but
to Aveigh each man's merits one against another.
Mr. Street complained of my protest, and I then
wrote to the government, stating that if the judges
reaffirmed their decision, I should abide by it.
They did very unjustly reaffirm it; but the law
officers of the crown cancelled their decision as
unfair. As, however, I had engaged to stand by
the reconsidered verdict of the judges, I felt bound
to adhere to my promise, and I withdrew from the
competition ; though I was vain enough to feel
convinced that my merits (architecture, and plan
together) were greater than those of any other
competitor, an opinion to which I still adhere.
Mr. Waterhouse Avas perhaps the closest rival, but
Mr. Street had but a poor plan, while his architec
ture Avas unworthy of his talent, and had evi
dently been very much hurried ; Avhile Mr. Burges,
though his architecture exceeded in merit that of
any other competitor, was nevertheless eccentric
and wild in his treatment of it, and his plan was
nothing. t 2

276 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Laughably enough the competition ended in
Barry, Avho had been buoyed up by Street's archi
tecture, being cut adrift, and Street, Avho had only
come in under Barry's wing, being declared the
AA-inner ; as illogical and unfair a decision as
could Avell have been come to ; yet practically a
good one, as it ensured a noble Avork : for an able
and artistic architect can surely make a good plan,
Avhile no amount of skill in mere planning can by
itself enable a man to produce a noble building.
I am myself content. I AAas not beaten, for the
first decision, which Avent against me, was declared
null and void, Avhile before the final decision, I had
AvithdraAvn from the competition. So ended the
effort of three quarters of a year.
At first several of the designs Avere highly extolled.
Mr. Layard told me that he thought mine one
of the finest things he had ever seen. But in time
some of the great unknoAvn of. the public press came
in Avith their Avretched revllings, and young Pugin,
galled at not being a competitor, added his vindic-
tiA'e abuse, until at last it was set down as proved
that the Avhole set of designs Avas a parcel of use
less rubbish.
I am a partial Avitness, but I can only say I do
not believe a Avord of it.
If it Avould have been my lot (had I succeeded)
to have suffered the bullying and abuse which has
been heaped upon Mr. Street, I cannot say that I
regret my Avant of success. That Avhich I had
suffered eight years before in respect of the
government offices, AAas quite as "much as I
could then bear. It is well that this second load
of persecution has fallen upon a man of spirit and

chap, vii.] Recollections. 277
nerve calculated to bear it. I heartily wish him
the highest success.
I consider that this great competition did me
harm, simply as a conspicuous non-success, and
as exposing me to the gibes of enemies, whom I
had innocently supposed not to exist, but Avhom it
brought out of their lurking-places. I have now
no doubt that beside the opposition provoked by
envy and jealousy, I had become unpopular with
my OAvn party, through having given way at the
last in respect of the style of the government
offices. I had made a desperate fight, but I sup
pose that many Avere unaAvare how desperate and
earnest a struggle I had made, or, if aware of this,
Avould think that when finally overcome I ought
to have resigned, rather than give way. I have
already given my reasons for not doing so. The
claim of party had grown up artificially. I had
been educated to classic architecture, and had
practised it early in life. My tastes, by degrees,
had led me to abandon it, and my zeal, to aim at
supplanting it by the revived style, but whether
this, feeling, of earnest partisanship should over
ride the claims of one's family in_ a case in which
I had fought to the last gasp* and where the pro
perty of the work had long been mine, I leave
others to judge. After a severe mental struggle I
decided otherwise, and I think. I was right, but I
do not blame those who take the contrary view ;
though the coursed took has unquestionably ren
dered me less popular with the- men of my own
party, and perhaps also with my opponents, as the
opposition which I encountered Was almost as
much in favour of others, as it was against the

278 Sir Gilbert Scott.
style itself ; and its main object was to force me to
resign in favour of one or another of my opponents,
one. at least of Avhom took an active personal part
in the agitation.
It should be ahvays remembered that not only
had I been formally appointed architect to the
Foreign Office, and had subsequently been ap-*
pointed (in conjunction Avith Mr. Digby Wyatt)
architect to the India Office, but that the designs
and Avorking draAvings had been made, and
builders' tenders received for the Avork,' and that
nothing but this agitation about style stood in
the Avay of the immediate commencement of both
works. I believe that the style of domestic Gothic Avhich
I then struck out has been the nucleus on which
much Avhich has since been carried out has been
founded. As Mr. Ruskin says of his own sug
gestions, it has often been barbarized into some
thing very execrable, but it has also been the
foundation of much which is fairly good ; so that I
have not reaped the fruit of my own labours, and
as, during the never-ceasing changes of fashion, this
style has gone rather out of vogue before I have
had much opportunity of carrying it into execution,
it folloAvs that Avhen I myself make use of it, I
have often the credit of being the imitator of my
own copyists.
A race of detractors of me and of my Avork has
since arisen, the mildest of whom say that I have
fallen off since my defeat by Lord Palmerston. I
do not think that they have any ground for this
statement, as some of my best Avorks are of subse-

chap, vii.] Recollections. 279
quent date, or Avere commenced about that time ;
e. g. Kelham Hall, Preston Town Hall, the Leeds
Bank, the GlasgOAV College, the Prince Consort
Memorial, the Midland Terminus, the Albert
Institute at Dundee, and St. John's College
Chapel at Cambridge. %Ss
My design for the Albert Hall was, I think,
worthy of more consideration than it has received,
I wish that I had adopted a pointed-arch style
instead of the round-arch byzantine, but I was
warm on that style at the moment, and wished, too
¦much perhaps, to propitiate the non-gothic party.
I designed it during a tour in Perigord, among the
half byzantine churches of south-western France,
making it a completion of the idea of St, Sophia: a
central pendentive dome, surrounded by four semi-
domes. I made two other designs for this hall,
the one Gothic, the other byzantine, besides a
sketched variety of the main design Avorked out
with pointed arches. I should mention that these
designs were not, like that eventually carried out,
intended for a vast music hall, but as what was
called a " hall of science," a place for great scien-.
tific gatherings.
During all this period a constant agitation was
going on at the Institute of British Architects,
upon the periodical election of their president.
The Gothic men Avent in for Mr. Beresford. Hope,
but were twice defeated, once by Professor Donald
son and once by Mr. Tite. At length, however,
the hopes of Hope were realized. After Mr. Hope,
Mr. Tite had a second innings, and then the
Council in 1870 selected me as their nominee. I
however declined to stand feeling that my ex-

280 Sir Gilbert Scott.
tensive engagements, my distance from London,2
and the claims of my family upon my spare time
forbade it. I felt also that I was not by nature
fitted for such a post.
I have during this period held the office of
Professor of Architecture at the Royal Academy.
Circumstances have been much against the due
performance of my duties here. I have, however,
given a good many . lectures, but they have been
interrupted ; first by the interval of rebuilding,
secondly, by my o\vn serious illness in 1870-71,
and in this year by the terrible bereavement which
I have suffered.
The best of my recent lectures have been those
on vaulting, and I AAas preparing for this year a
course of lectures on domes.
I hope, if spared, to publish my professional and
ante-professorial lectures Avith ample illustrations
in the style of those inViollet le Due's dictionary.3
The illustrations of all my lectures have been
almost profuse, and many of them are very ex
cellent draAvings by my pupils and assistants, my
sons and myself. Ely Cathedral.
I was appointed to this, my first Cathedral
restoration, in 1847, mY special Avork being the
re-arrangement of the choir.
The original choir had occupied the space
2 My father was then living at Rook's-nest near Godstone.
- Ed.
3 These have been published since my father's death by Mr.
John Murray. — Ed,

chap, vii.} Recollections. 281
beneath the tower, and extended (I think) two
bays into the nave.4 When the central 'tower fell
in 1320, and Alan of Walsingham built the exist
ing octagon, he left the choir in the position in
which he had found it, extending across the area
of his new octagon. Thus it remained until the
time of Essex in the last century, who wholly did
away with this arrangement, pushing the altar on
to the east end of the presbytery, and making the
choir two full bays short of reaching to the.octagon.
(See Bentham's two plans.) My work was not to
carry the choir westward to its old place under
the crossing, inasmuch as this would have injured
the effect of the octagon ; at the same time that
the unoccupied space eastward (formerly devoted
to shrines) would, as things now are, have been
useless. I contented myself with leaving the choir and
sanctuary to occupy the eastern arm of the cross,
with the exception of two bays to the east, left as
an ambulatory. I Avished this to have occupied
three bays, but to this the Chapter would not
consent. I re-used Walsingham's stalls,, as far as they
would go, designing new desk-fronts, &c.
This was the first case in which, an open screen
had been adopted in our cathedrals, and I. devoted
infinite pains to its design. There was no ancient
4 This position of the choir, which we are apt to regard as
exceptional, is in reality the old and normal one, the tradition
of the Basilica, and of the earliest Christian Churches. Thus
- St. Alban's, Gloucester, and Westminster represent the primitive
tradition, while Lincoln, York, and Salisbury exhibit the more
modem and abnormal arrangement, the great ecclesiological
innovation of the middle ages. — Ed.

28.2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
choir screen remaining. I returned only one stall
on either side, as is. (now) the arrangement in Henry
VI I. 's chapel. The stall usually occupied by the
Dean is here the Bishop's throne. He thus repre
sents the Abbot, and has done so since A.D. 1109,
Avhile the Dean, since the dissolution of the monas
tery, has represented the Prior.
The Bishop Avanted much to have a throne in
the usual position, but I would not consent to the
obliteration of an early tradition.
I suggested the filling in of the Avide niches
over the stalls, with reliefs, Avhich has been gradually
carried out and is now complete.
I placed the organ, partly in the triforium and
partly overhanging the .choir, founding its design
upon those of mediaeval organs (e. g. Strasburg),
and I placed the organist in a gallery in the aisle,
passing the trackers upAvards.
Subsequently I refitted St. Mary's chapel as a
parish church.
Under my suggestion, and Avith my co-operation,
the ceiling of the nave Avas painted by Mr. Le
Strange and Mr. Gambier Parry. I suggested to
Mr. Le Strange the ceiling of St. Michael's at
Hildesheim as a model. The pulpit, the restora
tion of the Avestern doorway, the pavement of the
nave, the strengthening of the west tower, the
restoration of the lantern tower, and the strengthen
ing of the south side of choir and east side of
south transept, have since been carried out under
my direction.
The design of the central lantern I most care
fully investigated from ancient evidences, and
can speak of most of it AAith much certainty.

chap, vii.} Recollections. 283
The great . eAidences were the mortices and the
carpenters' marks. It was clearly proved by
Dean Goodwin to have been a belfry,, as I had
supposed, contrary to the opinion of Mr. Le
Strange. . The interior of the timber lantern has been deco
rated by Mr. Gambier Parry, but Avith this I have had
nothing to do. I .am now completing the great
turrets and pinnacles of the octagon. I have made
a strong move towards rebuilding the lacking north
wing of the west front, but it has not. hitherto been
vigorously taken up. I wrote a paper on Ely
Cathedral Avhile abroad in 1873. This was read at
the bisex-centenary festival of St. Etheldreda's
foundation, in my absence, by my eldest son. It is
published in a book upon the festival.
These works were mainly carried out under my
dear friend, Dean Peacock, one of the noblest of
men : the lantern Avork Avas a memorial to him.
The actual restoration of the fabric of the choir
had. been commenced before my appointment, and
was managed up to that time by the Dean and
Professor Willis. The internal work of the Avestem
tower had already been completed by them, and the
reconstruction of the apse of the south-western
transept went on only' partially under my direction.
Indeed, coming in, as I did, in the midst of these
works, my connexion Avith them generally was but
partial, though it increased' as they went on. I
had nothing to do with the works at Prior Craw-
den's chapel, which were carried out by a minor
canon, a disciple of Willis, and Avere nearly
finished when I Avas appointed. I was assured, by
the clerk of the works, that the seat behind .the

284 Sir Gilbert Scott.
altar was deliberately carried out wrongly as a little
bit of annoyance to the Ecclesiological Society.
It looks noAv as if there had been no altar.
I gave very much study to this cathedral apart
from actual Avorks executed, and many matters of
interest turned up from time to time. The screen,
stall-work, pulpit, &c, Avere executed by Messrs.
Rattee and Kett.

Westminster Abbey.
I Avas appointed to this charge, I think, in 1849.
This is an appointment AArhich has afforded me
more pleasure than any other Avhich I have held.
My Avork here has been very much a matter of
investigation, and up to a certain date is fairly
chronicled in "The Gleanings." Since that time,
hoAArever, many other things have come to light,
I may mention the bases of the piers of the Con
fessor's church, in the sanctuary ; a compartment
and numerous capitals from the Norman cloister ;
and some fragments belonging to the shrine of St.
EdAvard, e. g. a piece of. the return of the cornice
of its Avestem end over the reredos. The fact has
also been ascertained that the whole of the shrine
had been taken down, and had been rebuilt in
Queen Mary's reign, and that even the steps had
been reset and misplaced, the marks worn by pil
grims' knees (still very distinguishable) being quite
out of their proper places.
We have found too, among other things, a com
partment of ancient grisaille glazing, the hatch of
the kitchen, the kitchen itself, the lower parts of
St. Catherine's chapel, extensive fragments of terra

chap, vii.] Recollections. 285
cotta figures Availed up in the westernmost part of
the triforium, a beautiful fragment of Torregiano's
Ciborium,5 and other objects of interest. "
I had, almost immediately after my appointment
as architect of the Abbey, devoted a great amount
of time to investigating, and making measured
sketches of, the Chapter-house, then occupied as a
record office, and I Avas, therefore, well prepared
when, many years later, the Avork Avas actually
placed in my hands. I may truly say that this
was a labour of We, and that not a point vyas
missed Avhich would enable me to ascertain the.
actual design of any part, nor was any old feature
reneAved of Avhich a trace of the old form remained.
I know of no parts Avhich are conjecturally restored
but the following ; — the external parapet, the pin
nacles, the gables of the buttresses and the roof.
In my draAving, made long before, I had shown
the shortened Avindow over the internal doorway
as of five lights. I did so because some of the
bases of the mullions remained Avhich showed the
windoAV to have been of five lights. Why then, it
may well be asked, in the restoration, has it been
made of only four lights like the other windows ?
I will explain why. '-i77
All the other windows have ancient iron ties at
or near their springings. These are of round iron,
but hammered flat Avhere they pass the mullions.
Noav the Avest, or shortened Avindow, had lost all
6 This baldachino, which is figured by Sandford, in his
" Genealogical History of the Kings of England," p: 470, and
is described by him as the tomb of Edward Vlth (whose body
was laid beneath the. altar of the Blessed Virgin which, it
adojned), was destroyed during the Great Rebellion. — Ed.

286 Sir Gilbert Scott.
its tracery, and AAas Availed up with voussoirs of
the Aaulting ribs. On removing these, however,
Ave found the iron tie still in its place, and it was
flattened, like the others for three (not four)
mullions. It Avas clear, therefore, that the Avest
Avindow had been like the others. How comes it,
then, that the bases of mullions tell another tale ?
Why, it Avas clear, from fragments of tracery found,
that the AvindoAv had been reneAved by Abbot Byr-
cheston, Avhen he rebuilt the bays of the cloisters
opposite to the chapter-house entrance, and in
the same style Avith them. He therefore had
altered it from a four to a five-light Avindow, and
had moved the mullioh bases, although he left
the old tie in its place, flattened out for three
mullions, as he had found it.
The cloister has been partially restored with
much care. The mosaic pavement of the sanc
tuary has been restored, where it had been short
ened eastAvard, the old matrices having been found
and refilled. A concrete, containing chips of glass
mosaic, was found under the altar pavement.
The reredos, Avhich I found in plaster,, has
been restored in alabaster and marble, Avith great
care and precision.6 The five central canopies
Avere found to be modern, and to occupy the
space of a recess, intended no doubt for a
rich retabulum. This has been restored. Some
curious papering Avas found behind the masonry of
the reredos, where it abutted against the pillars,
on Avhich Avere painted coats of arms.
During this time Abbot Ware's Customary'' has
come to light, and has been examined, together
6 In 1866. — Ed. 1 Liber consuetudinarius.-— Ed.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 287
with many other documents bearing upon the
history of the church and buildings.
The mason of the Abbey, Avhen I was first ap
pointed, Avas Mr. Cundy : subsequently Messrs.
Poole have occupied this post, who haA~e also
carried out the restoration of the Chapter-house.
My oaati works at the Abbey have not been
extensive. They consist of two pulpits, three
grilles, an altar-rail, the gable and pinnacles of
the south transept, sundry tops of pinnacles, a
neAV altar-table in the sanctuary of the church,
and another in Henry VIL's Chapel ; but the
most satisfactory has been the hardening of the
decayed internal surfaces Avith shellac dissolved
in spirits of Avine. The Abbey has also been
warmed, Avhich will tend, I hope, to its durability.
The bronze effigies of kings and others have been
cleaned, and the ancient gilding exposed.
I have planned a great sepulchral cloister on
the south side of the Abbey buildings, extending
along College Gardens ; but I see no prospect of
its being carried into execution.
We are now engaged in restoring the eastern
most of the portals (in this case a quasi-portal) of
the north transept. We have found them to be
gabled, as shown in Loggan's view, and we find
very much of the evidences of the old design.
May I be spared to see them all perfected.8
I commenced these works under Dean Buck-
land, Avhose place was soon taken by Lord John
Thynne, who has retained, as sub-dean, a general
B The work is still in progress, and the western portal of this,
so-called, Solomon's porch is now approaching completion, but
the great central one has not yet been commenced. — Ed.

288 Sir Gilbert Scott.
directing power. Dean Stanley,- hoAvever, has noAv
assumed the lead, and takes infinite interest in the
ATOrks. Hereford Cathedral.
The Avestern towers haAing fallen about 1796,
the nave had been Avretchedly dealt with by
Wyatt. When I was first appointed to continue this
restoration, the former Avork, carried on under Mr.
Cottingham, had been suspended for many years.
He had repaired the nave, the internal crossing
Avith its piers, the interior of the sanctuary (from
the crossing to the altar-space enclosure), the east
end of the Lady Chapel externally, and also most of
the interior of the same. The parts through
which I had to carry on the Avork Avere the tran
septs, the choir-aisles, the eastern transepts, and
the north porch ; together AAith the rearrangement
of the choir, and the replacement of the monu
ments removed during Mr. Cottingham's work.
The reparations were carried on Avith the most
scrupulous regard for evidence, and with the least
possible displacement of old stone : the last being
rendered- most difficult by the extreme decay of
the external Avork, the stoneAvork being often
holloAved out by internal decay, even Avhere it
appeared upon the surface comparatively sound.
The present state of the central tower will illustrate
this. Among lost features recovered, I will mention
the circular AvindoAvs which light the eastern tri-
forium of the north transept. These had been
converted into perpendicular Avindows, though

chap, vii.] Recollections. 289
retaining their, early circular arches : no sugges
tion remained of Avhat they had originally been.
It one day occurred to me that they might have
been circles, and being in the green to the east
ward of the transept, I held up a half-a-croAvn
piece, fitting it, in perspective,, to the AvindoAv arch,
when I found that its loAver edge just touched the
sill. This led me to cut into the inserted Avork,
Avhen I discovered the circles, Avith even the
grooves for their cusps, and some of the curious
pear-shaped cusps themselves. The restoration
of these is absolutely exact. The eastern pin
nacles of the Lady Chapel had been rebuilt by
Cottingham, but the side ones were Avanting.
Some of these I found stOAved aAvay in the crypt,
and I rebuilt those on the north side, partly out of
old materials. The monuments removed by Mr.
Cottingham were scattered about in all directions,
and I could not have recovered their positions had
it not been for the aid of the Rev. F. T. Havergal,
one of the Priest Vicars, whose knowledge and
research A\rere of the greatest possible importance:
all that Ave could identify were replaced in their old
positions. I Avas interested in discovering "among these a
monument, to one of my old friends, the Dentons
of Hillesden,9 Avhich I replaced as near its old
position , as I could ; but I subsequently found,
to my regret, that parts of its altar-tomb and
heraldic remains had escaped my notice. I
applied to Lord Leicester, the representative of
the family, for aid to its more perfect restoration,
but in vain. _-,:
s Cf. ch. i. pp. 45, 46, u

.290 Sir Gilbert Scott.
The beautiful stall-Avork of. this cathedral had
been removed by Cottingham, and had been,
for some twenty years, stOAved aAvay in the
crypt, all in fragmentary < pieces. It Avas a part
of my task to fit these together and rearrange
them. I do not knoAv Avhether I Avas justified in the
course Avhich I took Avith regard to this. There
Avas at that time a violent agitation, first, for
opening out the choirs of our cathedrals ; and,
secondly, for making, Avhere practicable, the choirs
more proportioned to present uses, so as to give
no excuse for using them for congregational
purposes. I Avas so far influenced by this fancy
as. regards screens, (be it right or wrong), as to
have laid down a rule for myself to open out
choirs in cases Avhere no ancient screens existed,
but not otherwise. I also yielded so far to the
argument for choirs, proportioned to practical
needs, as to think that, as in this case the old
dimensions and landmarks had been lost for
twenty years, I Avas at liberty to adopt what
seemed to be a more convenient arrangement.
The old choir had extended through the cross
ing into the nave, the eastern arm forming only
the sanctuary.1
My rearrangement made the eastern arm the
choir, giving up the transepts as Avell as the nave
to the congregation. Practically, for ordinary
purposes, this A\as a gain ; for great diocesan
uses it Avas a loss. From an antiquarian point of
Aiew it Avas an error. I leave it to others to judge
1 Cf note on Ely Cathedral, ch. vii. p. 281. — Ed.

chap, vn.] ... Recollections. 291
of it. I confess I do not think I should noAv do
the same.
I do not believe that Cottingham had found an
old screen . at any rate, he left no relics of it. The
metal screen in its present form came about in
this Avay : Mr. Skidmore Avas anxious to have
some great Avork in the exhibition of 1862, and
offered to rriake the screen at a very low price.
I designed it on a somewhat massive scale, think
ing that it Avould thus harmonize better Avith the
heavy architecture of the choir. Skidmore fol-
loAAred my design, but somewhat aberrantly. It is
a fine Avork, but too loud and self-asserting for an
English church. The reredos had already been
erected by Mr. Cottingham, jun. The decoration
of the north transept was carried 'out by Mr.
Octavius Hudson.
I had the pleasure of carrying out this work
under the kind and friendly assistance of my dear
friend, Dean DaAves, for whom I conceived a
sincere regard.
The tower is in a very bad state, and I hope its
restoration will soon be undertaken. -The old
roof marks had been obliterated by Mr. Cot
tingham. ' . -
The builders employed were Messrs. Ruddle
and Thompson, of Peterborough. The clerk of
the works Avas Mr. Chick.
Lichfield Cathedral.
My work here Avas mainly the opening out and .
rearrangement of the choir.
I succeeded, rather against my will, Mr. Sidney
u 2

292 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Smirke, Avho had restored the south aisle of the
nave, and had really commenced upon the choir.
This choir had been dealt Avith by Wyatt in
the most extraordinary manner possible. It had
originally been of very early pointed work, almost
or quite transitional in character, but had, in the
fourteenth century, been rebuilt from the arcade
upAvards in rather late decorated ; the outer order
of the arches being also reconstructed in that
style. The older columns had been octagons
Avith a triple shaft on every side. The fourteenth-
century architect had removed the shafts facing
the choir, in order to gain width, and had corbelled
his vaulting shafts above the stalls. Wyatt had
disregarded both of the old dates, and, by the help
of cement, spikes, and. tar-cord, had converted the
columns and arches (tOAvards the choir) into copies
of those of the nave. When I was first called in,
this cement Avork had been partly removed, and
the mutilated work behind it presented the most
difficult enigma. I believe that I recovered the
design absolutely, but some parts of it were dis
covered through remains so slight that, though
conclusive, their interpretation was- of intense
difficulty. I Avas greatly aided in this investigation by the
qualities of the stone employed, for the fourteenth-
century architect had used a different stone from
that of the older work.
Wyatt here, as at Salisbury, had removed the old
altar-screen, and had extended the choir through
the Lady' Chapel to the extreme east end. He
had enclosed the area thus formed, by blocking up
its arches Avith wood-Avork and glazing, so that the

chap, vii.] Recollections. 293
choir could not be seen at all from the nave. He
had left the old choir-screen of the fifteenth cen
tury, but this had unhappily been taken down
before I was called in, and I do not recollect that
the idea of replacing it was ever suggested. I
erected an altar-screen on the site of the ancient
one, and put up a metal screen between the choir
and the nave. No old stalls remaining, new ones
were introduced,, over which it was always intended
to place grilles, but this has never been carried
out ; so that this, from being the closest of quires,
is now the most open.
Colouring was found about the bosses of the
groining, which I desired to have restored by
Mr. Octavius Hudson,- but this was not approved
by the chapter.
The work has, at a later period, been extended
to the Chapter-house and the Lady Chapel, and it
is now contemplated to extend it to the exterior of
the Avest front. Wyatt had, by the help of Ber-
nasconi, translated this fine work into Roman
cement : Ave hope to retranslate it Into stone.2
I have had the privilege of working at Lichfield-
under several very marked men. ..The greater
work was carried out in the time of Dean Howard,
but, from his great ¦ infirmity, he was not able to
take so active a part as he would otherwise have
done. Nothing, hoAvever, was decided upon but
in the fullest consultation with him, and he threw
himself into it Avith all possible zeal and with the
greatest mental energy. He Avasa most charming
man, and kept up a cheerful, lively, and even
jocose and buoyant spirit, under circumstances of
2 This work is now in progress. — Ed.

294 Sir Gilbert Scott.
very great bodily suffering, Avhich he bore with the
most christian and heroic submission. I may indeed
say that he rose above his sufferings in a manner
of Avhich the mere recollection is quite edifying.
His second in command Avas Mr. Precentor
Hutchinson, a really wonderful man. I had
knoAvn him for years as a great promoter of
church extension in the diocese, and when he
joined the chapter he rose at once to the circum
stances, and did his work right nobly. I do not
know hoAv to describe him, as he united in a mar
vellous manner the finest disposition and temper,
the richest humour, and the most energetic ac
tivity and zeal. I delighted in him, and, I need
not say, deeply deplored his unexpected loss.
He Avas succeeded as precentor by another right
wonderful man, Archdeacon Moore. Again I am
unable to describe him. Dean Stanley has done
so to the life. A grander man I never knew. He
seemed, in conversation, to unite in himself the
characteristics of Lichfield's two great men, John
son and Garrick ; and at the same time to blend
Avith them the great charm of the generous open-
hearted man of the Avorld. Tavo such precentors
have rarely succeeded one another.
He also is gone, but he enjoyed at the age of
eighty-three all the vigour and life of middle age;
indeed, very far more than often falls to the lot of
a man at any age.
Dean Champneys I saAv but seldom. I always
found him a very kind and agreeable man. Lately
the Deanery has fallen to the lot of my valued
friend and patron Dr. Bickersteth, formerly Arch
deacon of Bucks, under Avhom, I hope, the west

chap, vii.} Recollections. 295
front, the great gem of the cathedral, noAv set in
paste, will be reset in genuine stone.
An intensely vexatious circumstance occurred
during the earlier period of my connexion Avith
Lichfield. The ordinary work of the cathedral was carried
on by a staff of masons, permanently engaged,
under a foreman. At that time Professor Willis
Avent to Lichfield to prepare himself for a lecture
on the cathedral. He did not communicate Avith
me, but carried on his examinations Avith the
assistance of the foreman of masons. I sub
sequently learned that, while in company Avith
this man, he had discovered, upon the upper
surface of the string course of the triforium of the
transepts, the marks of the setting-out of the
groining-- shafts of. the early-English, work, which
from that level upwards was removed, or altered, in
the fifteenth century. No communication what
ever was made to me upon the subject, and the
first I heard of it was from a complaint, made I
think by Professor Willis himself, that the stones,
on Avhich these invaluable evidences had existed,
had been removed by this very foreman, Avho, Avith
the exception of the professor himself, was the
only man Avho Avas aAvare of their existence. The
man's excuse was,- that as Professor Willis had
taken notes of them he did not think there Avas
any need to preserve them,, and, as his men had
nothing else to do in the winter, and the stones were
somewhat out of repair, he had set them at Avork
to renew them. I must say I think the professor
Avas exceedingly blameable in entrusting such evi
dence, thus discovered, to the sole guardianship of

296 Sir Gilbert Scott.
an ignorant mason, and in making no communica
tion Avhatever to me, as the architect to the cathe
dral; but the occurrence is more important as shoAv-
ing the danger of keeping on these staffs of masons,
who, if they have nothing else to do," employ them
selves in doing irreparable mischief. What has
now become of the professor's notes I knoAv not.
I never saw, or at the time heard of, these interest
ing relics, and now they are irrecoverably lost.
In the Lady Chapel, the Avail arcades had been
much tampered with by Wyatt, and plaster but
tresses and pinnacles had been introduced, having
no reference at all to the original design. This
Avas made sufficiently clear by the jointing of the
masonry, and has since been restored as closely
as eAidences Avould permit or guide. The eastern
bay AAas occupied by a sort of reredos made up by
Wyatt, partly out of old details (probably from
the choir or altar-screen) and partly in cement
from his own design. I did not wish to remove this,
but the chapter had it taken doAvn ; Avhen it was
found that this bay had been a plain Avail Avithout
arcades, intended no doubt to leave a space for
some rich retabulum.3
The west windoAV was an odd affair, put up, I
think, by James II., Avhen Duke of York. This
has been replaced by a window more in character,
though possibly a little too late in detail.
The interior of the nave has been cleared of
J The removal of Wyatt's reredos has rendered necessary the
completion of the fine flemish renaissance glass with which the
eastern window (as are also the side windows of the apse) is
filled. This work has been carried out with great care by
Mr. Thomas Grylls.— Ed.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 297
whitewash and repaired. I ahvays hold this work
to be almost absolute perfection in design and de
tail. It is parallel in style to the eastern part of
Lincoln Minster, the Chapter-house at Salisbury,
Bishop Bridport's tomb there, and the ruined front
of NeAVstead Abbey. The exterior of the south side
of this exquisite nave had been reneAved some years
before my connexion with Lichfield, under Mr.
Sidney Smirke. The north side remains nearly
untouched (at least in modern times), including
the northern return of the north-Avestern toAver..
This part is in a very sad state of decay, yet it is
such a precious gem of architecture that I, some
years back, urged that instead of restoring it, the
chapter should have perfect drawings and photo
graphs made of its details, so that if these should
eventually perish, records Avould be kept of them.
This Avas pretty fairly effected. . ¦
More recently, a monument to Bishop Lonsdale
has been erected to the north of the altar, and sedi-
lia formed of some of the old canopies,- formerly
belonging to the choir-screen, have been con
structed to the south ; at the back of which, in the
aisle, is erected a monument to Dean Howard,
Avith a canopy formed from the same source.
The effigy of the bishop is by Watts, and that
of the dean by Armstead.
The AvoodAvork of the choir . was executed by
Mr. Evans, of Ellaston, Avho will be known to the
admirers of " Adam Bede " and its authoress.
Lichfield necessarily reminds me of dear old
Mr. Louis Petit. I ahvays regret that I was not on
more intimate terms with him. I opened acquain
tance with him (in 1841, 1 think), by a controversy

298 Sir Gilbert Scott.
about St. Mary's, Stafford; and the odd, and
someAvhat perverse, line which he frequently took,
in parallelism Avith his more natural and congenial
vein, led him- ahvays to fancy me to be an oppo
nent ; whereas I really had a sincere affection and
an immense admiration for him. He Avas of a
noble, generous nature, Avith fine gifts, both as a
scholar, as a gentleman, and as a most original
artist ; and though, as an architectural critic, he
Avas too much led aAvay by a talented but less
genial friend (also departed), he was nevertheless
a grand creature, and as noble-hearted a man as
eArer lived. His very face was a charming picture.
Peterborough Cathedral.
Here I have done comparatively little. I had
many years back, in Dean Butler's time, under
pinned the foundations of a part of the church
tOAvards the north-east. At a later period I did
the same to the eastern aisles of the transepts,
Avhich Avere giving way, and added buttresses to
them. About the same time some decoration was
carried out in the ceiling of the choir, and generally
the whitewash has been cleaned from- most of the
interior. A -few years back my attention had been called
to some unquestionable eA'idences of continued,
and increasing, subsidence' all along the north side
of the church. These parts had long since shown
signs of considerable sinking, but these neAV proofs
Avere of an alarming character. I strongly advised
that the north aisle of the nave should be securely
shored, and this was done, but for a very long

chap, vii.] Recollections. 299
time the chapter, with one brilliant exception,
did all in their poAver to shut their OAvn eyes, and
those of the public, to the truth. They called in
another architect, who preached " Peace ! peace ! "
They then sent for a third, Avho at the first was
almost "carried aAvay with their dissimulation,"
but was obliged at last to admit the danger. This
aisle has, therefore, been thoroughly underpinned.
Still the central tower, which had been affected by
the general movement northwards, and also the
north aisle, of the choir are in a very sad state, and
nothing is doing. Some of the chapter, AA'hen
their eyes Avere unwillingly opened, wanted to go
beyond me, and to have flying buttresses built
against the north aisle Avail. . I did not like this,
because it would so seriously affect its aspect. I
trust that what Ave have done may prove effectual.
My knowledge of Peterborough Cathedral had
begun in 1831 during my first considerable archi
tectural tour. Blore had then just completed the
rearrangement of the choir. My visits to Boston
brought me in frequent contact with it. When I
used to go down by the Boston mail, if it were
summer, I ahvays had a run round the cathedral,
while the coach stopped for half an hour. The
view as we came from the east, along the north
side, used to charm me more than almost any
other that I know of. There were at that time a
feAv lofty poplars, and trees of Other forms, which
added a wonderful charm to the remarkable group
forming the north-west angle Of the cathedral, as-
seen from the east. These have disappeared,
perhaps from natural decay ; and partly perhaps
from a strange prejudice against Lombardy pop-

o

oo Sir Gilbert Scott.

lars, Avhich, though possibly Avell grounded where
there are too many of these trees, without the
relief of other kinds, is a great error Avhere they
rise from, or among, trees of other forms. I
remember hearing a man say that Avhen he came
upon the vieAV of this group he felt as if he should
like to die on the spot : his more prosaic com
panion replied that such a sight was just what
gaA-e him the strongest desire to live.
I often Avonder that the interior of Peterborough
Cathedral does not excite to stronger expressions
of admiration. It seems to me, next to Durham,
to be the finest Norman interior that we have.
Not only the nave, but also the transepts, with
the remarkable Aariation betAveen their eastern
and Avestern sides, have ahvays filled me Avith the
highest admiration, and this is reneAved by every
visit. Salisbury Cathedral.
I AAas appointed to this Avork, I think, about
1859. I have made several reports upon it, to
Avhich I refer.
The first work undertaken Avas that of external
repair. The stone, though generally in fair pre
servation, Avas partially decayed, and the whole
building Avas gone through carefully and conser
vatively, replacing only such stones as Avere irre
coverably perished.
I made a very careful survey of the Chilmark
and Tisbury quarries, and selected nearly all the
stone to be used from Avhat is called the " trough
bed " at Chilmark, which is a bed but little used
in the old work, though superior in strength and

chap, vii.] Recollections. 301
durability to any of the others. It is almost a
pure limestone, very shelly and hard, and was left
unused by the old masons simply because the
quarries Avere subterraneous, and this bed formed
their ceiling. There is a corresponding bed in
one of the quarries at Tisbury (that nearest to the
village), but it is not so hard or good as that one
bed at Chilmark. The quarries at Teffont I do
not knoAv, but I believe that they also contain this
bed. The foundations Avere extensively examined all
round the church, and underpinned or repaired
where found necessary. They have been through
out defended by a mass of concrete surrounding
them, with a channel formed above it.
Our next great Avprk was .the strengthening of
the toAver. The original thirteenth-century builders
had erected a central tower, rising sufficiently high
to receive the roofs of the four arms of the church.
The storey against which these roofs abutted is a
very light structure, and Avas intended to be visible
from within. It is perforated in its thickness by a
triforium gallery, leaving externally a wall of little
more than two feet in thickness, while the interior
consists of a light arcade Avith Purbeck marble
shafts. The corner turrets have each a staircase,
rendering them mere shells.
On this frail structure the fourteenth-century
builders carried up the vast tower, some eighty feet
high, with Avails nearly six feet thick, and upon this a
spire rising 180 feet more. It need not then be
wondered that the older storey, so unduly loaded,
should have become shattered. Subsequent
builders have bolstered it up by flying buttresses,

302 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and by every form of prop that they could invent,
till, as Price calculated, the sectional area of the
added supports exceeded that of the original
structure. Still, hoAvever, the crushing went on,
and when I examined it, it had proceeded to very
alarming lengths. I proposed to bond it together
(in addition to the numerous ties it already had) .by
diagonal iron ties, and then gradually to insert new
stones in place of those Avhich were shattered.
The Chapter, for further satisfaction, called in
the aid of an engineer eminent for iron construc
tion, Mr. Shields, whose opinion very much
coincided with my own. To him was confided the
arrangement and construction of the iron-work,
Avhich AAas admirably carried out under his
direction by Messrs. James of London. It con
sists mainly of two heights of diagonal ties,
branching out tOAvards their ends and passing
round the stair turrets, and so grasping them
firmly, through a height of several feet, in which
space they are connected by vertical irons placed
upon the exterior faces. When this system of ties
Avas once firmly fixed, I felt that Ave could safely
proceed Avith the reparation of the stonework.
This was carried out under the direction of my
excellent superintendent, Mr. Hutchins. Nearly
all the steps of the four staircases were shattered,
and had to be taken out and reneAved, and the
same was the case with a very great amount of
the stoneAVork. This was effected almost stone by
stone, so that small parts only Avere disturbed at
once : a very lengthy process, but the only safe
one. It spread over many months, till at last
every crushed stone had been replaced by one

chap. vii.J Recollections. 303
stronger than the Old one had ever been, and set
firmly in cement, so that by the time we had done,
the work AAas stronger than it had been Avhen
new. Reparations of a minor kind were effected through
out the toAA-er and even to the top of the spire,
where I had the satisfaction of irispecting them up
to the very vane.
We dare not do anything to the bent piers which
carry the toAver. Their curvature seems to have
arisen from tAVO causes, first, from the pressure of
the arcades upon their flanks, and secondly," from
their backs or flanks not consisting, as do their
fronts, of Purbeck marble closely bedded, but of
compressible rubble walling. These two causes
acting together would almost necessarily produce
flexure. This had been remedied in the north and
south arches at an early date by building arches
across them at (say) half-height. . The same might
have been effected by a stone screen in the
eastern arch, but in the western it would produce
an inconvenient obstruction. I haA-e advised the
authorities to keep a watch over the piers, and if
any increased curvature should be observed, to
take some precaution, such as the insertion of iron
beams from pillar to pillar.
On the death of Bishop Hamilton (in 1869) a
fund was raised for the restoration of the interior
of the choir as a memorial to him. With this fund,
and amounts othenvise obtained, the stonework of
the choir and its aisles has been thoroughly re
paired, and the choir fittings brought back, as
closely as possible, to Avhat may be supposed to
have been their original state. All the desk-fronts

304 Sir Gilbert Scott.
were modern, and no traces of the old ones re
mained. The canopies Avere of modern deal. The
reredos was the gift of Lord Beauchamp; the
choir-screen of Mrs. Lear.
During the restoration of the choir, the colouring
discovered under the coating of yellow wash was.
in part restored. That of the Lady Chapel was
repainted in the Avinter of 1 870-1, while I Avas laid
up by serious illness. I do not think that it Avas
very faithfully reproduced from the old remains.
I Avas able, in the spring of 1871, to go and
examine the eA-idences of the painting of the choir
ceiling. This, as Avas always, known, was decorated
Avith medallions containing busts of prophets.
These had been visible until the time of Wyatt,
who covered them with yellow wash, which never
theless allowed them to be slightly seen. There
is an interesting correspondence about this in the
Gentleman' 's Magazine, at the time that they Avere
being washed over.'1
We very carefully removed the colour-wash and
disclosed a considerable part of the paintings,
together with the legends that accompany them.
The rest of the subjects we selected as well as we
could to continue the series. They represent
prophets, Avith legends from their several books,
relating to the coming of our Lord. Those in the
crossing of the eastern transept show our Lord in
Glory (a " Majesty "), together with the Apostles
and Evangelists. Eastward, over the presbytery,
are depicted the employments proper to the several
months of the year.
* Cf. Gentleman's Magazine, 1789, pp. 874, 1065, TI95-~ Ed.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 305
In the eastern transepts are other medallions
which have not yet been investigated.
The arches and walls of the whole choir and
presbytery Avere richly decorated. Messrs. Clay
ton and Bell made a tentative restoration of
some parts, but not (as I now find) very accu
rately. I have quite recently (1877) made a. care
ful investigation of these decorations with the help
of my talented assistant Mr. S. Weatherly.
An interesting controversy arose last year (1876)
respecting the true position of the high altar.
It Avas started by the Rev. H. T. Armfield, an
antiquarian, who laid great stress upon the falling
off in dignity in the decorations of the vaulting
after passing eastAvard of the crossing, as being
inconsistent with the assumed position of the high
altar, eastAvard of that spot. I refer to papers on
the subject, and to a printed report by myself and
my eldest son, which showed that there Avere so
many arguments for the received position, that the
contrary arguments were outAveighed ; though the
difficulties which they suggest have never been
fully explained.
The whole of these lengthened works have been
carried out under Dean Hamilton, assisted by the
chapter and by a general committee. Dean
Hamilton deserves all possible praise and grati
tude, both from myself and from all lovers of the
cathedral. I do not knoAv how to speak of him as
he deserves, and it would be simply impossible to
speak of him too highly. Beginning this great
work Avhen he AAas entering upon old age, he has
continued it with unflagging energy, liberality," and
devotion, to, I believe, the venerable age of eighty-
x

o

06 Sir Gilbert Scott.

three, and though his bodily health has all along
been feeble, and has sometimes Avholly failed him,
he has never for a moment shrunk from the work,
nor has the clearness of his insight into all its
bearings for a moment abated. Personally I feel
the highest and most sincere gratitude to him for
his uniform kindness and support. His latest act
has been a neAV subscription of 3000/. towards the
repairs of the interior of the nave. The whole
may most literally and truthfully be called Dean
Hamilton's Avork.
He has, I fear, been sadly galled by the Avant of
pecuniary support from many of the great men of
the diocese, but these great names, so conspicuous
by their absence, it is not my place to enumerate.
The two bishops of this period, Bishop Hamil
ton and Bishop Moberly, I must refer to with
admiration and regard. I will also mention a
humbler name, that of the late Mr. Fisher, a
retired professional man, who devoted several
years of his life to collecting and administering
funds for the restoration of the cathedral. Next
to the Dean, he really claims, as I think, the
highest place among its promoters. One of his
especial Avorks was the collecting of gifts for
figures to be placed in the niches of the west
front, Avhich Avere executed, at, I fear, too low a
price, by that very promising sculptor, Mr. Red-
fern, Avhose early death Ave have such deep cause
to lament. This artist was of humble birth, a
native of the hills above Dove Dale, Avhere his
talent, Avhile he A\as but a boy, became knoAvn to
Mr. Beresford Hope, who brought him to London,
and placed him Avith Mr. Clayton. He subse*

chap, vii.] Recollections. 307
quently studied at Paris. I had thought him a
successful man, but it turns out nOAV that his
spirits Avere broken by pecuniary distress, and that
he had fallen into the hands of cruel usurers, who
made his life a torment to him, and this so under
mined his health that he fell a victim to some,
otherwise slight, attack of indisposition. • He Avas
one of four sculptors whom I have knoAvn to die in
poverty within about two years.
I may mention two small works at Salisbury, in
Avhich I took an especial interest. One of. these
Avas the restoration of the screens which part the
smaller transepts from the choir. ; These had ori
ginally been plain walls with very high copings (as
Avas the case Avith all the early surroundings of the
choir and presbytery) and Avere each pierced by a
good early english. doorway.
That on the south side had been enriched
externally in the fourteenth century, at the time
when the transept arches Avere strengthened, by a
series of Arery elaborate niches. These niches had
been built up solid, and the doorways so far.
destroyed that no trace remained of their original
form. By removing modern Avork Ave found traces
of the design, both of these doorways, and of the
niche Avork, Avhich by long and, careful study Avas
developed into certainty, and they have been noAv
restored to their true forms. I have some idea
that the niches had at one time been arcaded
tOAvards the choir, but this was not proved Avith
certainty. The other Avas the restoration to its original
place, of the effigy attributed to Bishop Poore,
This had occupied the position of a founder's
x 2

o

08 Sir Gilbert Scott.

tomb to the north of the high altar, under a part
of the thick screen-wall, which Avas arcaded to
receive it : as is shown by Carter, both in his
architectural book, and by his sketch made in
1 78 1, Avhich was published by Dr. Milner. Wryatt
SAvept away the whole of this, and placed the
effigy in the north-east transept upon a fifteenth
century altar-tomb belonging to some one else.
I have had the pleasure of retranslating it to its
old position, and of re-erecting the arcaded screen-
Avall over it ; in doing which I was aided by some
beautiful fragments recently discovered, Avhich,
though probably not parts of the tomb, very much
resemble Carter's sketch.
Where Wyatt deposited the body found in the
tomb no one knoAvs. As to the question Avhether
this Avas or was not Bishop Poore's tomb, I Avould
refer to a correspondence betAveen myself and
Canon Jones, of Bradford, as also to a letter
addressed by me to the Secretary of the Society
of Antiquaries in 1876, and to the report already
referred to upon the position of the high altar.
I may mention that the tablet described by
Leland states that Bishop Poore Avas buried at
Durham. A document in the "Fcedera" says, I
believe, the same. Matthew Paris,, MattheAV of
Westminster, and a document in the hands of
Canon Jones, all say that the bishop Avas buried
at Tarrant. Bishop Godwin says the same, but
his editor states that Poore desired to be there
interred, but that the Salisbury people claimed
his body and left only his heart at Tarrant. Dr.
Milner adopts this view. A body was, anyhow,
found by Wyatt in the tomb.

chap, vii.} Recollections. 309
Chichester Cathedral.
I was called in after the fall of the central
toAver5 to reconstruct Avhat had fallen ; but not
wishing to displace Mr. Slater, the architect in
whose hands the work had previously been, I
voluntarily associated him with myself, and shared
the payments with. him. He Avas not, hoAvever,
acknoAvledged by the restoration committee.
-The work was carried out under, a general com
mittee, of whom the Duke of Richmond was
chairman. It was, I think, the finest committee
I ever Avorked under ; extremely numerous, and
consisting of an admirable set of" men, among
whom I may mention Bishop Gilbert and Dean
Hook. I at once made most careful examination
of the remains, and stationed my son Gilbert at
Chichester while the vast heap of debris Avas
removed. His task was, by the help of prints
and photographs, to " spot " and identify every
moulded and carved stone found among the debris,
and to label and register them so that Ave might
have every detail of the old work to refer to, and,
if sufficiently preserved, to re-use.- He executed
this task most admirably, so much so that Ave
were not left to conjecture for any detail of the
tower, and much Avas refixed in the new Avork.6
We should, hoAvever, have been uncertain as
5 This took place on February 21, 1861, at 1.30 p.m_— Ed.
' Of this work 1 had the satisfaction of superintending every
detail, ,from the foundations which I set out myself, to the
weathercock (the old one) which I refixed with my own hands,
on June 28th, 1866, upon which day the completion of the spire
was celebrated by a solemn Te Deum, sung in the presence of
the Bishop. — Ed.

o

10 Sir Gilbert Scott.

to some actual dimensions, had it not been that
a former resident architect7 had made perfect
measured draAvings of the whole, Avhich draAvings
had come into the possession of Mr. Slater: these
my association Avith him had given me the use of.
This Avas a most happy circumstance, and enabled
us to put together upon paper all the fragments
Avith certainty of correctness : so, one thing with .
another, theAA'hole design was absolutely and indis
putably recovered.. The only deviation from the
design of the old steeple Avas this. The four arms
of the cross had been (probably in the fourteenth
century) raised some five or six feet in height, and
thus had buried a part of what had originally been
the clear height of the tower, and Avith it an orna
mental arcading running round it. I lifted out
the toAver from this encroachment by adding five
or six feet to its height ; so that it noAv rises above
the surrounding roofs as much as it originally did.
I also omitted the partial Availing up of the belfry
windoAvs, Avhich may be seen in old vieAvs.
The neAV Avork Avas carried out Avith great solidity.
The foundations Avere sunk to a considerable depth;
in doing Avhich Ave found many Roman remains,
fragments of mosaic pavements, pottery, &c, and
also several boars' tusks.
The foundation of each pier was a square bulk
of masonry surrounded by stepped buttresses and
immense footings, all built of great blocks of
Purbeck stone, and laid on a mass of cement.
concrete. The piers to some height above the floor of the
church are Avholly of Purbeck stone set in cement,
7 Mr. Joseph Butler, surveyor to the chapter property.— Ed.

chap, vn.] Recollections. 3 \ 1
but as this Avas found ruinously costly they wrere
carried up above that level Avith dressings of Port
land stone, but the mass of Purbeck. The super
structure was partly Of Chilmark stone and partly
of the rag from Purbeck.
No part of the piers or other portions bearing
concentrated Aveight have any rubble walling, but
are AArholly of block stone ; that of the piers and a
good deal more being laid in cement.
The tower was carried up to. the base .of the
spire independently of the old structure, being
steadied by massive shoring. When we had
reached that height, the arches, walls,- Sec, con
necting the four arms of the cross Avere completed,
thus uniting the neAV toAver with the Old structure.
This done, the spire was carried up. I do not
think that a settlement of a hair's breadth shows
itself. This is as admirable a piece of masonry as
ever was erected, and as faithful a restoration.
The foundations and the loAver part of the piers
were built by Mr. Bushby, of Littlehampton ; the
rest of the Avork by Messrs. Beanland, of Bradford,
in Yorkshire. The clerk of the works Avas Mr.
Marshall, now in business at Chichester.
I have since, in conjunction with Mr. Slater,
carried on the restoration of the Lady Chapel,
and of a chapel to the east of the south transept.
The fitting up of the choir, &c, Avere Avholly
Mr. Slater's Work. I had nothing to do Avith
these. St. David's Cathedral.
I had visited St. David's before I was called in
there, and had sketched most of its details. I had

3 1 2 Sir Gilbert Scott.
also read and reviewed Basil ]ones and Freeman's
history of it, so that I was fairly prepared for my
Avork, Avhich has been a very interesting and
arduous one.
My first report will show in Avhat condition I
found the church, and my second, addressed to
Bishop Thirhvall, the nature of the principal
works. The most difficult of these Avas the repa
ration of the tower, which involved little short
of the reconstruction of its two Avestern piers,
This Avas carried out Avith admirable care and
energy by the builder, Mr. Wood of Worcester,
under my very excellent clerk of the works, Mr.
Clear, who had just completed a similar work for
me on a smaller scale in Darlington Church.
The cathedral had been erected by Bishop
De Leia in the latter years of the twelfth century,
but the tower had fallen, through the failure of its
two eastern piers about 1220. In rebuilding it
the tAvo western piers were left standing, so that
the tower AAas supported on piers of unequal
strength. During the six centuries which have passed since
this, the height and Aveight of the tower had been
vastly increased ; and while the two- eastern piers
have borne it Avell, the two Avestern ones had
gradually become crushed literally to fragments.
At one time a vast, wall had been erected between
the piers, displacing half the Avidth of the choir
screen, but the abutment was insufficient. One
transept-arch had also been walled up, as I think
had been the nave arch, though this had been re
opened before I was called in. Not only Avere the
tAvo older piers thus shattered, but very much -of

chap, vii.] Recollections. 313
the superstructure also, while the later storeys
above were split from top to bottom by gaping
cracks of Aast width. I trust the tower is noAV
perfectly sound.
Besides this great work, the church has been
put into substantial repair throughout, excepting a
part of the south transept and the porch. The
aisles of the eastern arm, once in ruins, have been
roofed, repaired and re-united with the church.
The east end had originally a fine triplet of
lancet A\indoAvs of very early style and over these
four lancets of somewhat later date. The former
had been blocked up by the addition in front of
them of Bishop Vaughan's chapel. The latter had
(excepting their outer jambs) been replaced by a
perpendicular Avindow embracing the~width of the
four older lancets. This perpendicular windoAv
was of inferior stone, and was so. decayed as to
need reneAval. I discovered when I came to deal
with it, that the sills of the four lights remained
beneath the later sill, and that the internal com
prising arch AAas formed of the internal arch stones
of the. older lancets. I further discovered that a
certain heightening of the side walls, added in the
fifteenth or sixteenth century, contained the debris
of the original east windoAvs. I determined on a
bolder course than usual, and took down the added
walling for the treasure buried in it, and, having
secured that treasure, rebuilt it. This gave me
the details of the eastern lancets perfectly, as to
design, and in a great measure the actual stone
work fit to be re-used, so that the lights are noAv
replaced, in part Avith their old material, wholly of
their old design.

314 Sir Gilbert Scott.
We found that the rafters of the flat roof
of the eastern arm had belonged to the high
roof of early times. I determined, hoAvever not
to replace them as a high pitched roof because
the later roof was of good design and capable
of reparation. Mr. E. A. Freeman says he would
either have retained the perpendicular window
or else have "gone the Avhole hog" and re
stored the high roof. I reply, 1. The perpen
dicular window was rotten, and I had found the
older one. 2. The perpendicular roof was hand
some and susceptible of reparation, and the old
one was of plain square timbers. 3. I knew what
the east end had been up to the foot of the gable,
and thus far I could restore it with absolute
certainty, and in a considerable degree with its
own actual material and Avorkmanship, but I knew
nothing whatever of the design of the older
gable. I therefore took the intermediate course,
preserving and replacing all I knew of the
earlier work, and beyond this preserving the
later. One thing that I did was non-conservative.
The two stories over the toAver arches had formed
an open lantern, of the tAvelfth and thirteenth cen
turies beloAV, and of the fourteenth aboAre. Timber
groining had however been introduced in the six
teenth century, cutting across the windows and
spoiling this fine feature. I lifted this groining to
the top of the lantern, and by doing so at once pre
served it, and exposed to view the lantern windows.
The whole, of the church had been prepared for
stone groining, but none of it erected, excepting
in the eastern chapels (noAv mostly ruined). The

chap, vii.] Recollections. 315
north transept roof being very rough and un
sightly, I have ventured to complete the groining
beneath it, but only in oak. I should wish to do
the same in the south transept. The beautiful
oak ceiling of the sixteenth century in the nave has
been thoroughly repaired. ,
I should have mentioned above that the walled-
up eastern triplet has been filled with enamel
mosaic, and the four lancets over It with stained
glass,. at the expense of my late dear friend the
Rev. John Lucy of Hampton Lucy, as a memorial
to Bishop Lucy.
I am noAv preparing to restore the west front
(which was mainly rebuilt by Mr. Nash), as . a
memorial to Bishop Thirlwall.
This Avork has been carried on under a general
committee of which the Bishop has been chair
man. The secretary has all along been Mr.
Charles Allen of Tenby, a very talented and
business-like gentleman, who was formerly in
India and Avas private secretary to Lord Dalhousie
when Governor- General. The Dean has taken but
little part in it.
The leading Canon when I undertook the work
was a most eccentric man, aristocratic and gen
tlemanly by nature, but, as one must suppose,
somewhat touched in his mind. His mono
mania was hatred of the Dean and of most of
the Canons, Avhich he carried to a most amusing
extent. Next to that came hatred of all that is
Welsh, though a Welshman himself ; and lastly, a
general hatred of the human race : sentiments,
hoAvever, expressed Avith the greatest amount of
bonhomie and joviality; which made him an

3 1 6 Sir Gilbert Scott.
amusing, though tiresome companion, but a man
little suited to promote a great work like this.
Indeed, he sometimes used to say that he wished
the Avhole Cathedral Avas pulled doAvn and a new
one built. Happily AA'e have a canon now in his
place Avho is the very reverse, a thorough pro
moter of the work not only by his influence but
by his example, as he has undertaken the north
transept at his own cost.8
When we have restored the Avest end and the
south transept, the Avork still remaining will be
the recovery from a state of ruin of the eastern
chapels : and a most important Avork it will be.
Bangor Cathedral.
Never was so dreary a Avork undertaken as this
looked at first sight. I used to say that Bangor
Cathedral contained nothing worth seeing but
three buttresses.
I saw it first some seven or eight and twenty
years ago, when traArelling in Wales, in search of
green slate, with Mr. Moffatt. These noble
buttresses struck me so much that I obtained leave
to excavate round one of their bases, which had
been deeply buried by the accumulation of soil.
When a feAV years since I was appointed archi
tect to the restoration I again felt a desire to see
this buried base, forgetting for the moment that I
had taken measured sketches of it more than
tAventy years before. There chanced to be a
croAvd in the churchyard owing to the funeral of
some person of note, and my excavation was
mobbed. When standing between the crowd and
8 Canon Allen, now. Dean of St. David's. — Ed.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 317
the hole, I heard a Welshman behind me exclaim,
"I — mind — Scott — and — Moffatt — digging— there
¦ — before," which called to my mind my former
researches Avhich I had so strangely forgotten ;
though I had often referred to and made use of
my sketches then made.
On more careful examination I saAv reason to
hope that a careful search would bring to light
more work of the age of these buttresses, and this
hope has been amply realized.
The cathedral seems to have been built (so far
as concerns its oldest existing remains) about the
time of King Stephen. It was probably damaged
during the Edwardian Wars', and its eastern part,
or rather perhaps its transepts, rebuilt wholly or
in part after their termination. A century or more
later it was burnt by Owen Glendower, and lay in
ruins for most of the fifteenth century, till restored
during the reign of Henry VII.
Since that time it has passed through a course
of gradual degradation, up to the period of the
commencement of the works still in progress.
We soon found that the more modern walls,
whether of Henry the Seventh's ^ time, or of later
date, contained vast quantities of the -debris of the
church partially destroyed by Glendower, and as
the state . of repair of these parts demanded, the
removal of much of the work of this later date, Ave
were enabled to exhume these remains. We found
among them enough to complete the design of the
two great transept windoAvs, and to reconstruct
them, in part, with their own materials. We found
also portions of, I think, seven other buttresses of
nearly the same design with the original three,

3r8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
besides very numerous other details, such as the
corbel-tables of the: transepts and chancel, the
jambs, bases and caps to the arches of the cross
ing, and of the other arches opening into the
transepts, &c, &c, most of wdiich have been
folloAved, and often the stones themselves re-used.
Nearly the only exception is the design of the
crossing-piers, which were originally too weak, and
these, though folloAving in part the ancient design,
have been increased in size.
We found also much of the tile pavement ; also
the plan of the earlier Normari piers of the cross
ing, and generally of the central portion of the
Norman church. The south transept is carried
out exactly according to the evidences found, but
we were obliged to raise the level of the floor of
that on the north, OAving to its having been, for
some reason, placed impracticably Ioav.
The transept-crossing, with preparations for a
central tower, are complete, as also is the structure
of the chancel ; in which I have retained the work
of Henry the Seventh's time, though I have added
the earlier buttresses which, we discovered.
I beg to refer to the second report which I
made Avhen the work had attained a certain degree
of forwardness. It is still going on, thanks mainly
to the liberality of Lord Penrhyn,
St. Asaph Cathedral,
This has not been an interesting work. It is
one of a minor class, consisting of (i) The re
arrangement of the choir; (2) The external re
modelling of the eastern arm of the church;
(3) The opening out of the clerestory of the nave

chap. vii. J Recollections, _ 319
and the internal improvement of its roof ; Avith a
few other smaller matters.
The chancel, Avith the exception of its late deco
rated east window-, had been externally reneAved in
costly stone but horrid architecture, early, I sup
pose, in this century ; not the smallest trace of its
old design being left. There Avere extant, early
prints of it, and from these I made a design for its
restoration, but accompanied it by earnest advice,
not to act upon it until the whole work had been
stripped of its modern concealment, and eAadences
of its original design searched after. This the Dean
and Chapter ignored, saying that they could not
have their cathedral disturbed earlier than was
necessary, and I, in an evil moment of weakness,
yielded, I introduced two couplets - On either
side, designed as closely as I could from the
prints ; Avhen at length, as the work approached the
central toAver, to our dismay the old details made
their appearance. Whether to welcome their
apparition, as I am Avont so heartily to do, or to
deprecate it as the nemesis I so fully deserved, I
did not knoAv. I could not well ask for money to
re-do all I had done, and yet I could not repeat it
in the face of facts such as these. I therefore
restored the remaining windows on either side cor
rectly, and left the others to take their chance :
monuments of weak compliance, and beacons to
warn others against such foolish conduct. There
ought to be a brass plate set up recording our
shame and our repentance.
I found the old stalls arranged in the structural
chancel, and wretched deal-grained copies of them
placed under the crossing. I removed the real

320 Sir Gilbert Scott.
stalls into the crossing; but, I regret to say,
seated the eastern arm, a step AA'hic-h was pressed
upon me against my AAish.
I think it might have been better to have
kept them .Avhere they Avere, and to have thrown
the crossing into the nave as I am doing at Ban
gor. Both had originally their stalls in the cross
ing ; but at Bangor they Avere removed (or placed)
eastAAard in the re-arrangement under Henry the
Seventh. The nave had a modern roof Avith plaster ceiling
of an arched form hiding the curious clerestory.
The roof itself Avas substantial, and as it lent itself
Avell to a form Avhich would shoAV the Avmdows (a
form founded on that of the transepts of York), I
adopted that treatment, and I think Avith fair suc
cess.
St. Albans Abbey,
August 8th, 1872.
It Avas many years ago — I forget how many— that
I Avas first appointed architect to St. Albans
Abbey, and it AAas many years before that that I
had first A'isited it, and still longer since I- had
begun to entertain a romantic interest for it. It
Avas. Avhile I yet lived at GaAvcott that my enthu
siasm AAas first stirred - up towards St. Albans by
Henry Rumsey, my father's pupil. He promised
to get my uncle King to take me there from
Latimers ; but this never came off. Still earlier I
can recollect hearing from my old aunt Gilbert the
nursery rhyme, — -
'; When Verulam stood
St. Albans was a wood ;
Now St. Albans is a town
Verulam's thrown down ;"

chap, vii.] Recollections. 321
and later my interest Avas excited by hearing that
two places in our neighbourhood had to send their
children there for confirmation, because they were
peculiars of London, and, as I noAv know, because
Offa had granted them to St. Albans Abbey.
When I first turned my attention to architecture
I almost dreamed of St. Albans. I so inspired
my felloAV-pupil, though not much of a gothicist,
that he walked there with his brothers and saw it
before me. He was, hoAvever, punished for his
temerity by being apprehended as an incendiary.
It Avas in the days of " Swing."9
I forget whether it was in 1827 or 1828 — *my
first or my second year in London — that I planned
with my brother John, then articled at Chesham,
to meet him at St. Albans, and to Avalk on to
GaAvcott (for our holiday) together. I recollect
well the romantic feeling I attached to the con-
qluding clause of one of his letters : — " Adieu !
till Ave meet at the 'Woolpack'" — that being
a hostelry at St. Albans. However, by some
shifting of the cards, we met in London, and got
to St. Albans, part of the way on foot, and part by
coach. It AAas, I know, on the 27th of May, as I
remember the oak-apples worn two days after, but
I forget the year. I well remember the intensity
of my delight at this visit.
What, however, I referred to at starting Avas my
' This was a period of great discontent among the agricul
tural labourers, owing in part to the introduction of machinery,
and in part to the severity with which the Game Laws were
enforced. Incendiary fires were common, and threatening
letters were employed as a means of coercing farmers and
landlords. These letters usually bore the signature of a feigned
" Captain Swing." — Ed. Y

322 Sir Gilbert Scott.
being called in to report on the Abbey many years
back. The immediate cause of this Avas the hope,
then entertained, that St. Albans Avould shortly be
erected into a see. Subscriptions Avere raised on
the condition of this taking place, and on the
failure of the scheme were returned ; all but a
portion Avhich had been given unconditionally,
Avhich Avas expended on some ordinary repairs,
mainly of the north arcade of the nave, and on
some parts of the north transept.
My report Avas printed, and is extant. I shortly
aftenvards gave a Avalking-lecture at the Abbey:
this Avas in part Avritten, but is noAv lost, excepting
such fragments as Dr. Nicholson gathered for his
guide-book (since greatly amplified). I Avas called
in again last year to report afresh, owing to a new
movement for the restoration of the church. A
public meeting Avas held in London, and funds Avere
raised to somewhere about one-quarter of what
Avas needed.
The present Avork commenced about 1 870-1,
OAving to the dangerous condition of the central
toAver. I may refer to Mr. Chappie's printed
paper, giving an account of the reparation of the
tower. The toAver Avas giving way seriously at
its north-eastern corner, and also in the Avails
abutting upon that angle. This angle especially,
but also the tower generally, was thoroughly
shored. I was laid by at the time Avith the illness
I Avas attacked Avith at Chester, and could not go
at first to inspect the system of shoring, but com
municated my views to Chappie through my eldest
son, Avho Avas of great service in arranging the
system of shoring. Early in the spring I was -able

chap, vii.] Recollections. 323
to go myself and inspect it; also to attend a
public meeting at Willis' Rooms for the further
ance of the Avork.
We had first to apply a vast system 'of . shoring,
and then carefully to remove the defective parts,
replacing them with hard brickwork in cement and .
running the pier everywhere full of liquid cement ;
we, at the same time, made good the orders of
brickwork Avhich had been cut away : some parts
are said to have been cut out to a depth of seA'en
feet. On the opposite side we had to underpin
the foundation, Avhich had been undermined by
burials, and to sustain it with a vast mass of
cement concrete.
The same process in a minor form Avas applied
to the other piers, though Ave did not restore the
inner orders to the western piers, inasmuch as we
supposed that they had been cut aAvay to allow the
stalls of the monks to be carried past them.
We found under the south-east pier the evidence
of a marvellous fact. Its foundations had been
excavated into a sort of cave, some five or six feet
in diameter, which was filled in with rubbish (mere
dust, Avith some timber struts among it). I can
only conceive that this had been done with the
intention of destroying the building by setting fire
to the struts, but that the process had been
^Suspended.114 The superstructure, Avhich was much shattered
and rent, has been carefully and substantially
1 It appears that when the work of destruction was counter
manded, no pains were taken to make good the mischief already
done, and the tower has remained propped up on short oaken
struts from the " Reformation " until the recent repair.— Ed.

324 Sir Gilbert Scott.
repaired and bound together by iron rods. The
north transept had been affected by the general
failure, and is now being repaired : its north-east
angle has been underpinned to a considerable
depth. Its abutting walls eastAvard have also
been strengthened ; so that I trust the old tower
is noAv safe and sound again.
We are now engaged in the repairs of the choir
and the restitution of the tAvo very curious en
trances to the sanctuary from the choir aisles with
the very remarkable tabernacle Avork Avhich they
once sustained. This I had discovered on a
former occasion, having found the fragments of
the tabernacle work of the southern entrance
made use of to block up the entrance itself. This
I and my assistant, Mr. Burlison, had put to
gether and found nearly perfect. It is now being
erected in situ.
On the other side, though AA'e have found no
fragments, we have discovered the traces, on the
Avail, of similar tabernacles.
I ought to have mentioned that, previous to the
commencement of the present movement, the
eastern chapels, so long alienated, had been re
covered to the church, by making over the old
gate-house, long used, as a prison, to the grammar
school, Avhich had hitherto occupied the Lady
Chapel. They at present remain desolate, and
the footpath still perforates them, but surely this
cannot continue.2
Our great discovery I have noAv to relate. I
one day directed the removal of the blocking up
of a recess under one of the windows of the south
2 This scandal has now ceased. — Ed.

chap, vii.] Recollections. 325
choir aisle ; this Avas followed up after I had left,
and a number of fragments of the substructure
of the shrine of St. Alban were found.
I will here mention that, very long ago, Dr.
Nicholson had removed the walls Avhich blocked
up two of the five arches formerly opening into
the eastern chapels, and had found (among other
things) a number of beautiful purbeck marble
fragments Avhich we concluded to belong to this
structure. I bargained with him that when he held
such another field-day I should be sent for, but he
died before it occurred, and I was cheated out of
this piece of archaeological sport by my zealous
assistant, Mr. Micklethwaite, who, like William De
Valence in Hatfield Park,3 killed the bucks during
my absence, so that when iAvent down thirsting
for the chase I found it over and the quarry
taken. Nearly the Avhole of the marble shrine (erected
early in the fourteenth century) was recovered, and
is noAv, by the ingenuity of the foreman and the clerk
of the Avorks, set up again, exactly in its old place,
stone for stone, and fragment for fragment : the
most marvellous restitution that ever Avas made.
The old site Avas marked by the impressions of the
feet and knees of the pilgrims, and by the sockets
of the pillars, and to these marks the veritable
stones are now fitted as if they had never been
removed. It is a magnificent piece of work, and
its recovery is one of the most Avonderful facts of
modern archaeology. It is fair to all parties to say
that I got snubbed by the committee because -a
little of their money was spent on the discovery,
3 Cf. Matthew Paris (Bonn's tr.), ii. 534-

J26 Sir Gilbert Scott.
and AAas ordered to make no more such researches
at their expense. Several special subscriptions
have, hoAvever, been made, and Mr. Ruskin, on
hearing of the discovery, guaranteed the whole
cost, if needful : so that noAv pilgrimages may be
made again to the shrine of the proto-martyr of
Britain. This, hoAveA^er, is not all ; Ave have also found,
and in part set up, the shrine of St. Amphibalus.4
This is of a little later date, and of common stone,
and it agrees Avith the old description discovered
by Mr. Mackenzie Walcott.
Numerous other fragments Avere also discovered
Avhich are not yet appropriated to their places and
objects. May the Avork prosper.
I ought to pay, in passing, a tribute to the
memory of Dr. Nicholson, the late rector. No
man has been more zealous for the conservation
and restoration of the church than he. During a
long period he not only preserved the church from
increasing dilapidation, but carried on many effi
cient reparations and restorations out of the scan
tiest resources. To him, too; we owe the dis
covery of the extensive and most interesting wall-
paintings, and of many other objects of interest.
1 The priest, for concealing whom St.' Alban was arrested,
and to whom he owed his conversion. — Ed.

CHAPTER VIII.
August gth, 1872, Portsmouth. — I. have been this
day to Osborne to be knighted.
I have had a very agreeable day. I was sum
moned to Osborne to the council, and Avas invited
to go doAvn by the special train at nine o'clock.
At the station I met Lord Ripon, Mr. Cardwell,
Mr. Childers, the Lord Advocate of Scotland, and
Sir Arthur Helps. We Avent down together to
Gosport, where Ave adjourned to a large man-of-
Avar's boat of tAvelve oars, and were roAved, under
the command of an officer, to the mouth of the
harbour. Here Ave embarked on a fine steamer,
and proceeded towards the Isle of Wight. After
a little time our attention was called by an officer
to a mass of smoke far ahead. It Avas the American
fleet, Avhich had been for .some time lying in the
Southampton water, saluting the Queen in passing
Osborne. We presently met them, one after
another, fiAre vessels. On coming off Osborne,
we were landed in the ship's boat, and found
carriages in waiting to' take us up to the house.
The Prince of Wales's two boys were at the water
side on their ponies.
On reaching the house, after a little walking
about, I was asked to go with the ministers to-

o

28 Sir Gilbert Scott.

\Aards the presence chamber. Among them Avas
Lord Bridport Avith a sword, Avhich he informed
me Avas to be used on me. We Avaited on a stair
case a long time, Avhile Lord Ripon, as the Pre
sident of the Council, and I think Sir Arthur
Helps as the Secretary, Avere Avith the Queen, and
while Ave Avaited there the Prince of Wales passed
through the staircase. He shook hands Avith and
congratulated me.
Presently Lord Ripon came out and told me that
my business Avould come on last : then the council
were called in, but their business did not occupy
more than a feAv minutes, and, at length, I was
summoned. Having made my bows, the SAvord
Avas handed to the Queen. She touched both my
shoulders with it and said in a familiar gentle way,
" Sir Gilbert." Then she held out her hand, I
kneeled again and kissed it, and backed out, the
whole taking something less than half a minute.
I should say that, previously, Mr. Cardwell had
come out and asked me which of my names I
chose to be called by, AArhen I chose " Gilbert."
I thank God for the honour.
We then adjourned to luncheon with some of
the ladles and gentlemen of the Court.
I had been there once before, and had lunched
there then in the same way : this was some nine
years ago, AAThen my design for the Prince Consort
memorial was first adopted. Excellent Sir Charles
Phipps Avas there then ; nOAV Sir Thomas Biddulph
took his place. Sir John Cowell, one of the
gentlemen of the Court, and a member of our
committee, treated me with much kindness. Mr.
Doyne Bell was also there.

:hap. viii.] -Recollections. 329
We returned to the Avater's edge, and went back
0 Gosport as Ave had come. I then took, leave.
>f the members of council, and crossed over to
D6rtsmouth on ray Avay home, the twelve-oar with
ts officer taking me over.
I had not seen the Prince of Wales since his
llness. He looks stouter and fairly well, yet
ihoAving traces of the attack in a more languid
one and manner, but I hope this will soon pass
iff. All the members of council Avere very kind and
igreeable. February 21^,^1877. — It is four and a half
rears since I Avrote anything in this book.
Since that time I have returned from Rook's-
iest to my old house at Ham, and have lived
here three years. Avith my son John, and his Avife
.nd family, beside my two younger sons.
I had a severe attack of illness six months after.
ay return, Avhich led me to make a long stay
broad. I went with my son Dukinfield, and my
pod senant Pavings to the Engadine. I had
ast before been elected President of the Institute
f British Architects, and Avaited in England in
rder to perform some preliminary acts of hospi-
ility and good felloAvship. We started on July
oth (or rather on the nth, for it was at one in
be morning), from Harwich and went by Rotter-
am, Cologne, and Heidelberg to Freiburg, and
lence through the Black Forest to Schaff-
ausen, then by the Lake of Constance to Chur,
nd on by the Albula pass to Samaden, whence
e moved to Sils, and stayed there, some five
eeks.

330 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Here my brother John and his son, and my
own son Ahvyne, joined us, and Ave travelled by
the Splugen to Andermatt and Lucerne, thence
to Interlachen and eventually to Evian on the
lake of Geneva. Here I was strongly recom
mended to extend my tour and to go to Rome;
so, being left by my sons, I went first to Lyons,
then to Le Puy, Nismes, Aries, and Avignon, and
thence to Genoa and on by Piacenza, Parma,
Bologna, Ravenna, Pistoja and Lucca to Florence,
and again by Perugia and Assisi to Rome.
Here I spent five weeks very agreeably, being
very much in the company of my old friend John
Henry Parker. I went thence to Naples, and to
Pompeii, Herculaneum and Baia?, returning by
\Aater to Genoa and from there by Marseilles
and Paris, to London, reaching home on New
Year's Day, 1874.
The next year my son John and I had a trip
first through Normandy, and afterwards to Ham
burg, whence I went Avith my youngest son (who
had joined us at Brussels) to the Hartz, the Saxon
Switzerland, Vienna, Saltzburg, Munich, &c, and
home by Avay of Strasburg and Rheims.
During the autumn of this year I determined to
remove to London, whether Avisely or not God
knoAvs ! We did not actually leave Ham until a
year later. Chester Cathedral.
I commenced this Avork, so far as related to the
interior of the Lady Chapel, many years since in
conjunction with Mr. Hussey, who Avas then archi
tect to the cathedral. I think so far as Ave went

chap, vin.] Recollections. ^i
the work Avas fairly successful, and it was well
decorated in colour by the late Octavius Huclon.
We did not at that time do much external work,
but I commenced a careful study of its probable
design, Avhich I afterwards continued Avith great
earnestness for a very long time.
The exterior had been so cut to pieces that it
was only by study, spread over several years, that
its beautiful design Avas at all recovered.
, I will here- refer to my report, draAvn up at the
time Avhen I Avas appointed successor to Mr.
Hussey, upon his resignation, and also to a paper
read before the local architectural society and
printed (noAv very scarce), which contains- a state
ment of what had been done up to its date. .
The most interesting part of the A\rork is that
already alluded to, the Lady Chapel. The con
nexion betAveen this part of the cathedral and the
eastern parts of Bangor, will be found detailed in
the paper I have mentioned. This Avas made
clear by the bases of the buttresses, and more so
by a fairly complete buttress, Avhich Avas found
embedded in the wall of the later chapel on each
side : that on the north side stilL remains. The
beautiful cornice existed under the roofs of these
chapels. Portions of the open parapet were dis
covered, and Avere fitted into sockets found cut in
the cornice, and into sinkings in the east walls
of the choir. Other details gradually developed
themselves, the marks of the buttress-gables re
mained against the walls, breaking through the
cornice; and, eventually, nearly every iota Avas
discovered, up to the top of the cornice, as well as
the parapet over it. The eastern gable and. pin-

332 Sir Gilbert Scott.
nacles Avere Avorked from conjecture. The curious
mode in which the roof springs from an inner wall
behind the parapet is genuine, that wall having
remained. The windoAvs gave themselves almost
perfectly. The paper alluded to details the discovery of
the spire-like roof of the south-east apse of the
choir-aisle. This Avas proved beyond all question
by portions still remaining in place, and by very
numerous fragments found embedded in the walls.
The same paper gives my reasons for departing
from my customary rule in removing one of the
side chapels, Avhich had at a late date been added
to the Lady Chapel, Avhile I left the other. It Avas
horribly decayed, it spoiled that side of the beauti
ful Lady Chapel, it had destroyed the apse of the
choir-aisle, and its Avails Avere the burial place of
the details of the finer wrork Avhich it had dis
placed ; while its design was the same as that of
the north chapel Avhich I left.
In its Avails Avere found the AvindoAvs of the apse,
and almost every detail of its design, many of
Avhich were put up in their proper places. I leave
others to judge of the result, only adding that the
structure is exact to the old design, except the
scaling of the spire-like roof, of which no evidence
Avas found ; but it Avas so strongly pressed, that I
ventured upon it. The buttress Avhich severs the
apse from the aisle, and the pinnacle upon it, were
merely conjectural.
The external stoneAvork of this cathedral Avas so
horribly and lamentably decayed, as to reduce it to
a mere wreck, like a mouldering sandstone cliff.
The most ordinary details could often only be

chap, viii.} Recollections. 333
found in corners more protected, through accidental
circumstances, than the rest. I can assert for
myself, and for my able and lamented clerk of the
Avorks, Mr. F rater, that not a stone retaining any
thing like its old surface has been wilfully dis
placed, nor a single evidence of detail disregarded.
I am the more specific on this point, because the
frightful extent of the decay forced upon me,
most unwillingly, very considerable reneAval of the
stoneAvork. I can aver, however, that this Avas
unavoidable, unless, Indeed, I was willing, and my
employers too, to leave the cathedral a mere ruin.
The present state of the south-west angle of the
south transept will show hoAv matters stood :
though this is not nearly so much decayed as Avas
the toAver, and some other portions. Other parts
Avere better, and have been left to speak for them
selves. We rebuilt the south Avalk of the cloister
exactly on its old lines. It had long since been
taken doAvn, but Avas essential as an abutment to
the aisle of the nave. I have noticed that a news
paper scribbler speaks of my having " destroyed
the cloister." Any one Avould suppose from this,
that I had pulled doAvn the three remaining sides ;
but what this man means by destruction, is the re
instatement of the part which had been destroyed,
the other sides not having been so much as
touched. We added the stone vaulting to the nave aisles,
which had been prepared for, but not carried out.
The same was the case with the nave itself. I
did not venture upon adding stone vaulting here,
but completed the Avork in oak upon the lines
given by the stone springers.

334 Sir Gilbert Scott.
The choir had been groined in timber and
plaster by my predecessor, upon the old springers.
I adA-ised merely to substitute oak boarding for
the plaster, as the ribs Avere of wood, but the
chapter pressed its entire reconstruction in oak,
OAving to its lines not being quite perfect. It has
been decorated by Clayton and Bell. The beau
tiful stall-work has been carefully restored. It was
essential to the scheme that the choir should be
opened out. I felt averse to this, because the
stone screen, though not beautiful, Avas ancient, ex
cepting its doorway. I, hoAvever, consented to
remove it, and set up its old portions in the side
arches behind the stalls, and Avithout further dis
turbance of the canopies of the return stalls than
opening out their panels, I have applied to the
Avestern side an open screen founded on their own
design. The substructure of the shrine of St. Werberg
had been made into a bishop's throne. We have
removed it into the south choir aisle, adding to it
some parts recently discovered, and have made a
a new throne.
The arches of the presbytery are at present
open, but will eventually have metal grilles.
The Avhole of the interior has been carefully
denuded of its coatings of yelloAv wash, without
disturbing the surface of the stone.
The old sedilia have been completed according
to their own evidence, and one, Avhich had a
modern canopy (though far from neAv), has been
replaced by the original one, strangely discovered
among the ruins of St. John's Church. This seems
to prove that all of them came from thence.

chap, viii.] Recollections. 335
The groined chambers to the north-east of the
cloister, which had been subdivided and applied to
mean purposes, have been throAvn together and
appropriated as the priest-vicars' vestry.
The fine Norman crypt on the Avest side of the
cloister, once the substructure of the abbot's
hall, has very unhappily been made over to the
grammar school, a very ill-judged proceeding.
The site of the abbot's, and more recently the
bishop's, residence has also been made over to the
grammar school, noAv built aneAv.
The great Avork still crying out to be undertaken
is the restoration of the vast south transept, knoAvn
as St. Oswald's Church. The sides of this have
already been externally repaired, but the beautiful
south front AAas refaced with most barbarous work
early in this century.
I have made a design, founded on the remains
of its aisle fronts and on old prints, for its restora
tion — a noble work for any wealthy neighbour to
undertake. Its interior waits to be dealt Avith
like that of the nave.
The whole of these works, excepting the in
terior of the Lady Chapel (and not excepting the
Avhole of this) have been carried out under the
zealous and energetic direction of Dean Ho\vson,
Avhose never-flagging labour has raised some
80,000/ for the Avork. May he live to see it nobly
completed. Another suggested Avork is the addition of a
spire to the central toAver. This was intended and
prepared for by its builders, early in the fifteenth
century. I do not propose to venture on stone,
but have designed a spire of timber covered Avith

336 Sir Gilbert Scott.
lead. This is sadly needed to render the cathe
dral conspicuous from the surrounding country,
Avhence it is either invisible or marked out only by
the dull and heavy outline of its tower.
I had here been represented for several years.
by the most faithful and laborious of clerks of the
Avorks, Mr. Frater, whose early decease we have
all had to lament with very deep sorrow. A better,
more talented, or more conscientious man could
not be found for such a position. He was justly
respected, and is sincerely regretted by all who
knew him.
In the course of our works we made many dis
coveries relating to the Norman church. Mr.
Hussey had long since discovered the bases of
the pillars of the Norman apse (though unfor
tunately he removed them). We found parts of
the Avails and the responds of the apses to the
aisles, and also the loAver courses of the apsidal
chapel projecting from the north transept ; also
one of the pillars of the Norman choir and some
parts of the outer walls of the choir aisles, which
as far as possible we have left exposed to view.
We also found Arery numerous fragments of all
periods, some of them very interesting, all of
Avhich have been preserved.
The restoration of the south-east angle of
the south transept involved immense study,
and though it is no doubt as correct as prac
ticable, what Ave had to work from was a mere
Avreck. Gloucester Cathedral.
This cathedral was formerly under the manage-

ciur. vin.] Recollections. 337
ment (as to its repairs, &c.) of Messrs. Fulljames
and Waller, architects of Gloucester.
I A\as long since called in to report upon the
general scheme for its reparation draAvn out by
those gentlemen, and especially by Mr. W'aller, a
man of considerable talent. At a subsequent date,
Mr. Waller haA-ing retired OAving to ill-health, I
became associated with Mr. Fulljames, and, later
still, upon that gentleman's retirement, I took his
place. These Avorks Avere gradually carried on
under a clerk of Avorks (Mr. Ashbee) and a staff
of masons ; but subsequently the larger Avork Avas
undertaken of the internal reparation and partial
re-arrangement of the choir. This Avas carried out
with all due regard to the beautiful AvoodAvork
which remained. The stalls and canopies have
been carefully restored, and as there Avere no old
desk-fronts, &c., these Avere designed aneAv, making
use of some remains which had been removed to
the lady chapel, both as guides, and also as a part
of the work.
The side galleries Avere removed. The choir-
screen (a modern one) remains untouched, Avith
the organ upon it. The Dean objects to opening
out the screen, and as the return-stalls are com
plete, I am not at all anxious to do so. The
organ is a good seventeenth-century one, and I
am A-ery desirous to retain it, though, as is usual,
all parties there condemn it.
Among other things Ave ascertained, by removing
the floor eastward of the beautiful encaustic tile-
floor of the altar space, the position of the inner
altar screen, Avhich had been long since done
away with. On this site a new reredos Avas erected,
z

33 8 Sir Gilbert Scott.
leaving a space betAveen the two screens, as in old
times. Of the actual reredos little trace remained,
except fragments of details, and the outer jambs
of its tAvo doorways. We discovered the curious
sunk area behind the reredos (Avith steps leading
into the same) from Avhich AAas an entrance to the
space beneath the high altar. This is noAv exposed
to A'ieAv.
In making these investigations we found the
bases, and loAver parts of the shafts, of two great
round pillars of the Norman apse, which still
remain beneath the floor.
The canopies of the beautiful sedilia have been
restored, mainly from their OAvn evidence.
About this time Mr. Waller, having happily been
restored to health, resumed practice, and his aid Avas
of very important service in the restoration of the
porch, of Avhich he had, years before, made careful
measured draA\ings, since Avhich time the progress
of decay had obliterated much which had then
existed. He AAas also A-ery useful in respect of
the sedilia. He has noAv for some years been
reinstated in his position, of resident architect, I
retaining that of consulting architect. His in-
Aestigations of the history of the church have been
carried on AA'ith much care and success, and he
exercises a Avise and important guardianship over
the fabric, in which he has, since resuming office,
carried out some very important works of repara
tion. The choir vaulting has been decorated by Messrs.
Clayton and Bell, as I think, very judiciously and
successfully, though Mr. Gambier Parry thinks the
reverse.

chap, viii.] Recollections. 339
This gentleman had decorated a chapel adjoin
ing the south transept', and had reported upon the.
system to be adopted for the choir vaulting. As
it Avould have been too much to decorate both the
ribs, and the intervening spaces, while the walls
beloAV remained uncoloured, he had recommended
that the spaces should be decorated and the ribs
left plain. I thought this wrong, because this
vaulting is an intricate system of ribs, an absolute
net-work, in which the figure of the ribs is every
thing and the forms of the intervening spaces
nothing. I therefore recommended to decorate
the ribs and leave the spaces, for the most part,
plain. This has been done, the only exception
being the star-like arrangement of panels over the
altar, and another over the choir proper: these
two portions have decoration in the spaces. To
my eye the effect is most satisfactory.
Ripon Cathedral.
As to this Avork, I refer to my reports and also
to my paper on it in the Archaeological Journal
of 1874. This cathedral is of transitional work,
altered at several periods. The choir unfor
tunately had long been converted into a parish
church, Avhich greatly embarrassed our work. It
could not be opened oiit to the nave, having a
massive ancient screen, serving perhaps as a but
tress to the toAver piers. The altar-screen, once (as
at Selby) a bay in advance, had been removed
and the altar pushed back to the east Avail.
The choir Avas galleried and had beneath the
galleries a set of boxes or closets for leading
families, though remains of the side screens still

340 Sir Gilbert Scott.
existed. A part of the beautiful stall-Avork had
been injured, and repaired in an heterogeneous
style Avhen the central spire fell.
The choir had been prepared for groining in the
fourteenth century (or late in the thirteenth) Avhen
it Avas lengthened. I think it received oak groin
ing then, though at a late date this had been
reneAved in lath and plaster ; but this late groining
had magnificent oak bosses with figure subjects
carved on them.
The transepts had been groined in plaster and
papier-mache some thirty or forty years back by
the Ecclesiastical Commissioners. The nave had
a flat deal ceiling. The nave-aisles were prepared
for groining, but it had never been carried out.
We substituted oak groining for the plaster-
Avork, re-using the ancient bosses. We raised the
choir roof and the eastern gable to its old pitch.
We removed the papier-mache groining from the
transepts, and exposed and restored the old oak
roof. We (at a later date) added oak vaulting to
the nave, adapted to the old corbels and imitated
from the transepts at York.
They could not afford to raise the roof to its
proper pitch, but I hope that this may one day
folloAv. The arrangement of the choir Avas difficult and
unsatisfactory. The old rood-screen remaining,
I acted on my principle of not disturbing it, but
as the cathedral is also a parish church, the
Avhole parochial congregation has to be crammed
into the eastern arm. I found this effected, as I
have said, by side galleries and a kind of stage-
boxes, but noAv all are seated on the floor.

chap. viii. J Recollections. 34!
We cleared aAvay the galleries, &c, from the
choir, and did Avhat Ave could for it, considering the
serious hindrance of its being used as a Parish
Church, and Ave restored the damaged stall-Avork.
The organ retains its old place, but isnoAv being
rebuilt (too big, I fear, as usual).
The altar had formerly stood one bay in advance
of the east wall, as at Selby, but had been moved
back. This modern position Ave retained, and
removed the sedilia to suit it.
Our greatest Avork, however, Avas the strengthen
ing of the three tOAvers, all of which Avere danger
ous. The Avestern tOAvers had sunk dreadfully, and
' Avere split from top to bottom on three sides (if
not four). The cracks Avere nearly a foot wide.
We underbuilt the walls for some twelve feet below
their old foundations, propping them up meanwhile
with an enormous mass of timber shoring. The
danger Avas terrific. At one time a perfect ava
lanche of rubble roared in upon the men engaged
below from the centre of the wall over their heads.
Thank God, hoAvever, it Avas effected in safety.
Each tower Avas tied Avith iron in every storey, the
cracks built up and bonded across, and the. towers
are noAv sound and strong.
The central tower was, and is, a curious union of
twelfth and fifteenth century Avork, two sides of each
date. It had given AAay from this strange union,
the older Avork falling aAvay from the later. We
have, I think, succeeded in making it strong again.
In some places my over-zealous clerk of works
introduced too much new stone. One ought to be
ahvays on the spot effectually to prevent this.
This, hoAvever, I may say, that had Ave not taken

342 Sir Gilbert Scott.
it in time, the building Avould probably not hav
stood long.
I have been blamed for my treatment of the fivi
western early english Avindows, Avhich, AAith thi
flanking tOAvers and portals, form a perfect facadi
of the thirteenth century. These five Avide light:
had been turned into two-light Avindows (each) ir
the fourteenth century. The mullions and tracer}
then added (and Avhich may be seen in any olc
A'ieAv of this front) Avere of an inferior stone, ane
had decayed and given Avay so as to be only pre
vented from precipitating themselves into the nave
by beams of Avood placed across them. I found
them to be beyond the reach of repair, and having
once taken them out, the beauty of the earlier de
sign Avas so apparent, that it seemed barbarous to
introduce neAV ones, so the AvindoAvs now retain
their original design. Persons may differ as to
this. I have the satisfaction of finding, unasked
for, the full approval of that eminent antiquary
Mr. Edmund Sharpe, Avhose death Ave have just
now to deplore.
The main Avorks Avere carried out under Dean
Goode, to Avhom it is just to say that he zealously
promoted them. The contractors were Messrs.
Ruddle and Thompson of Peterborough, the clerk
of works, Mr. Clarke, Avho so entirely lost his
health from his exposure there, that for several
years he was laid by, and supposed to be so for life ;
but happily he has recovered, and has noAv been
two or three years at work again.
Worcester Cathedral.
This work Avas in the hands of Mr. Perkins, the

chap, vin.] Recollections. 343
local architect, a pupil of Ric'kman. I had been
occasionally consulted by the Dean, but not to any
great extent, so that the entire structural reparation
and restoration was Mr. Perkins's sole Avork.
When, 'hoAvever, the internal Avork of the choir
was taken in hand, I Avas called in, and I acted, so
far as that was concerned, jointly with Mr. Perkins.
The structural work was in' the main already
done, including some things which I regretted,
such as the removal of the perpendicular screens.
I fear I am jointly responsible for the removal of
the Jacobean and Elizabethan canopies, and of the
choir screen, but I forget now how this Avas. .
The ancient stalls remain. Strangely, as an
effect of divided responsibility, I forget Avhether
the returned stalls were ancient.
My work comprised the stall-fronts and desks,
the screens behind the stalls, the choir screen, the
presbytery- screen, the reredos, altar-rails, &c, and
the decoration of the vaulting. Subsequently to
Mr. Perkins' death, or partly so, I carried out
sundry works in the nave.
I had proposed to make a double open screen
to the choir, and to place on it the key-board of
the organ, and the choir organ itself, drafting off
the heavier parts to the blank walls on either side,
east of the toAver-piers, but this, though recom
mended by Sir Frederick Ouseley, was. foolishly
overruled, and the organ has been placed in the
aisle, in the usual aAvkward position.
The paving of the aisles of the choir was Mr.
Perkins' work, that of the choir and nave Avas mine.
The decoration of the choir vaulting I both designed
and drew out full size, to a great extent, while. laid

344 Sir Gilbert Scott.
up by long illness in the Avinter of 1870-71.
unluckily left that of the choir-aisles to Mr. Hard
man, Avho made it too monotonous. I did no
volunteer the decoration at all, but Mr. Perkin:
had stripped off the plastering of the choir-vaulting
and by doing so had exposed some very rougf
rubble-Avork of reddish tufa. This Lord Dudley
very much disliked, so the groining Avas replastered
and decorated in colour. I aimed in designing
this at a non-perspicuous effect, Avhich should
allow of a slight difficulty in discerning the pattern
at first sight, Avhich I thought would tend to
enhance the effect of height, as it unquestionably
does. I confess I think the choir ceilings very
successful. The great organ in the south transept I opposed
as useless and obtrusive, but I believe that my
letter on the subject AAas suppressed, for want of
courage to Avithstand the munificence of Lord
Dudley, a feeling in Avhich I sympathize, from a
sense of his. grand generosity.
This Avork, though carried out at first under the
dean and chapter, Avas made over, early in its
progress, to a general committee, of which the
dean Avas chairman, Lord Dudley, Lord Lyttelton,
and Sir John Packington (noAv Lord Hampton)
being among its leading members.
I have to regret the removal of the elegant
sounding-board from the choir-pulpit. I much
desired its retention. W^ith It, unknown to me at
the time, was removed the interesting representa
tion of the NeAv Jerusalem below it. Owing to
divided responsibility, my colleague being the
practical agent, and very timid, this Avas done,

chap, vin.j Recollections. 345
and the column, into Avhich it had been inserted,
restored, long before it came to my knowledge —
all the more stupid I !
I actually sent a carver to study it as an exam
ple for another object, when he found it conspicuous
only by its absence.1
I may mention that the perpendicular screen,
which occupied the place noAv taken up by the
neAV reredos, did not belong to that position,
but had been placed there Avithin. the memory of
man, haAing been removed from the north-east
transept. The Avoodwork was executed by Farmer and
Brindley, and the. grilles, &c, by Skidmore.
Exeter Cathedral.
I had been consulted here many years ago, upon
some matters by the then architect, the late Mr.
Cornish of Exeter, a very kindly and excellent old
gentleman, and a thorougly practical man ; but at
a later period I Avas appointed architect to the in
ternal restorations, my commission being limited
to these.
Immense opposition arose to what was pro
posed on the ground that I retained the choir-
screen.2 The architectural society and two local
architects Avere furious about it, but I held hard
and fast to it. At length we so far yielded as to
pierce the backs of the altar recesses on either
side of the screen, Avhich, Avithout sacrifice of any
1 It is ifigured in Pugin's " Specimens," vol. ii. — Ed.
8 My principle is not to destroy an old close screen nor to
erect a new one.

346 Sir Gilbert Scott.
architectural feature, has in some degree opened
out the choir to the nave.
In the choir nothing remained of the old fittings,
except the bishop's throne, the sedilia, the side
scrctms of the presbytery, and the misereres.
The stall elboAvs AA-ere of some semi-modern
date, and the rest of the AA'ork of the last cen
tury. The screen-Avails behind the stalls Avere of brick
plastered, but Avere finished by a beautiful four
teenth-century, double-embattled, coping and freize,
not unlike those of D'Estria's screens at Canter
bury. I suppose that they had been taken down
in Queen Elizabeth's time (possibly owing to some
sculpture Avhich they contained) and rebuilt in
plastered brick, the old copings being re-used. 1
substituted for the brick wall an open screen, Avith
the oak canopy work of the stalls attached to it,
and re-set the beautiful coping. The stall-work,
all but the misereres, is neAV, with return stalls
against the great screen. The doorway of the
screen tOAvards the choir is the old one, restored
even to its colouring, much. of AA'hich is original.
The modern parapet of the screen has been
removed. There was a great discussion about the age of this
screen. Archdeacon Freeman, Avho sympathised
with the opposition, AAished to prove it to be of late
date, arguing from the old accounts, Avhich con
tain extensive entries for iron-Avork and tiles, that
there had originally been an open iron screen; but I
found all the iron thus described to exist in the pre
sent structure, used for ties, and the tiles also, used
as the floor of the loft, so that at length the Arch-

chap, viii.] Recollections. 347
deacon admitted that it Avas Bishop Stapledon's
screen of 1320.3
We found eA'idences that the original reredos, or
altar-screen, had gone as high as the arches of the
side arcades. It had been destroyed after the
Reformation, and the screen which AAas existing
when Ave commenced work Avas of the present cen
tury. We could not think of reproducing, from
imagination, the old altar-screen, wmich would have
blocked out the arches at the east end, but I was
overpressed in the contrary direction, and made
the reredos too inconsiderable, though not so
much so as to disarm opposition. I need not go
into the history of the "Exeter Reredos" case:
suffice it to say that the common-sense decision
was come to, that the injunctions of the sixteenth
century for the destruction of imagery were at first
directed against such imagery as had been abused
to superstitious purposes, and were only rendered
general on the ground of the difficulty found in
deciding as to Avhich had, and which had not, been
thus abused, and therefore could not be applied to
new sculpture intended for no such purposes. I
subsequently rather increased the height of the
reredos, which was .a very great gain.
The restoration of the throne was carried out
with the utmost care and study of the evidences.
The lower part Avas nearly all modern, and much
of it Avas in plaster. Evidence existed of the old
design of this portion : indeed, some important parts
of the old work remained, and these indications ha\re
been precisely followed, excepting that I yielded to'
pressure in making the front open. There were
* The style is quite that of Bishop Stapledon's date.— Ed.

348 Sir Gilbert Scott.
no eA'idences one Avay or another, but it had most
probably been close. This front is magnificently
carried out, in exact imitation of the old work at its
angles, which still existed : the sides and back are
simpler, and folloAV eA'idences attached to the
several angle buttresses. The whole of the old
Avork was cleansed of its paint and varnish, but
where it had been decorated in colour this Avas
preserved and restored.
This work is attributed in all the histories to the
fifteenth century, but Archdeacon Freeman found
proof that (as its style" evinces) itAvas contemporary
AAith other Avorks in the choir.
The decoration of the vaulting of the Lady
Chapel is an exact restoration of what was found.
In the side chapels, Mr. Clayton weakly departed
from the old design, so far as to add some foolish
patterns to the mouldings, otherwise it would have
been correct.
Of the decoration of the choir-roof very slight
indications Avere found, excepting on and around the
bosses. The painting of the ribs is imitated from
that of the Lady Chapel, counterchanging the
colours. In all this work I was greatly thwarted by the
Dean, but I think the result is good.
The stoneAvork generally has been carefully
divested of its coatings of yellow wash- without
disturbing its surface. The Purbeck marble-work,
hoAvever, demanded very extensive reparation,
being sadly decayed and mutilated.
The pavement of the fifteenth century was
found, in part, beneath the modern flooring, and
has been useful in determining levels, though I am

chap, vin.] Recollections.

349

inclined to think AA'e are a step too low as regards
the altar platform.
I think the interior of this cathedral will, after
all is done, be as charming as any in England.
The organ retains its old place, and is only
altered in appearance by a moderate increase in
depth from front to back. It is, however, vexa
tious that, in renewing the pipes of the choir-organ
which Avere decayed, they have not. reproduced the
embossed patterns. I fear now they will never
do it. Rochester Cathedral.
I had been called in once before. on some minor
matters, but Avas commissioned in 1871 to under
take, the greater Avork.
Externally the Avork consisted, in the first place,
of the restoration of the north side and- east
end of the choir and presbytery. This part was
terribly decayed, mutilated, and altered, but by care
ful study it has been brought back to its old state
with a great amount of certainty. At the east end
a perpendicular AAindoAV had been inserted., and the
lower range of lancets had been filled in with
tracery of late date. These parts had been
renewed some forty years back, and the question
arose Avhether it Avould not be best, as the old
design Avas eA'ident, to bring it back to its original
form. The great argument in favour of this step
was the extreme ugliness of the great perpendicular
windoAV, Avhich Avas very offensive to the Dean and
others. This course Avas determined on, and
carried out.
A question then arose as to whether the roofs
and gables, which had all been lowered, should

350 Sir Gilbert Scott.
be raised to their ancient pitch. There was not
money enough to raise the roofs, but I persuaded
the chapter to raise the gables, hoping that the
roots might folloAv, but as yet they have not. The
design of the gabled roof, which formerly existed
over the east side of the eastern transepts, Avas dis
covered by my son Gilbert, and has been restored
to the north transept. There is a confusion of design
in the windoAA'S of this transept, owing to my having
left the jambs of some later AAindoAvs Avhich had
been inserted there.
The leA^els of the choir and presbytery have
been regulated by clear evidence which remained
beneath the modern floors. The tile paving is
founded largely on portions of the old tiling then
discoAered, some of AA'hich haAe been preserved.
The position of the high altar was ascertained and
folloAAed. The decoration of the walls behind the side
stalls, and of the screen behind the returned stalls,
folloAved exactly eAidences clearly found, excepting
that the shields of AA'hich Ave did not discover the
bearings, haA^e been filled with the arms of the
Bishops of Rochester, Avorked out by the kind aid
of the herald, Mr. S. T. Tucker, Rouge Croix.
There was also another curious exception : at
the back of the sub-dean's stall there was a patch
of some older decoration of a very singular kind,
a sort of plaid pattern. This the Dean would
not permit to remain, but it has been taken out
and preserved in a frame-, I think in the chapter-
room. The painting on the AA'ooden screen had been
covered over Avith renaissance decoration, but

chap, viii.] Recollections

oo

some parts had been left uncovered, and all Avas
traceable. The screen Itself is of the thirteenth century,
and of oak. The original panelling is visible on
its Avestern side, that toAvard the east is of the
fourteenth century. The stone screen in front is
also of the fourteenth century, the tAvo together
supporting the rood-loft.
The great transept on each side (south and
north) has been restored. externally. It had been
most monstrously " transmogrified," yet parts of
the old work remained, though in an advanced state
of decay: in fact it had almost perished. The
design has been recovered from these remains,
aided by old prints. The interior of the south
transept, Avith its timber groining, has been repaired,
as has a projecting building, on its eastern side.
The clerestory and triforium of the nave, which
AArere becoming seriously dangerous, have been
strengthened. The north and south walls of the nave aisles
are almost wholly of the date of some 1 50- years
back. They, no doubt, had gone over so much
that they were then rebuilt. Their foundation
Avas of loose chalk and had given way. This is
noAv banked up (underground) Avith concrete.
Mr. Irvine, the clerk of Avorks, discovered many
interesting matters underground, and has con
structed theories on them AA'hich I feel unable to
explain. I think he supposes Bishop Gundulph
to have begun to build the nave, and that some
of the bases are of his work, but that the super
structure is nearly three-quarters of a century
later.

352 Sir Gilbert Scott.
Winchester Cathedral.
Here I have done nothing but the opening out
of the screen. I Avas called in about this several
years back, but declined the task, thinking it im
possible to effect it Avithout altering old work.
In 1874 I A\as again called in, and on close exa
mination, I found that the work forming, the back
of the returned stalls, and practically the east side
of the screen, terminated precisely in a plane,
flush Avith the back of the stalls, this plane
bisecting all the mouldings as if they had been
saAvn doAvn their axes ; so that it was quite possible
to open out the choir' by simply removing the
stone screen, Avhich v/as modern, and the rough
timber framing against which the boarding behind
the stalls AAas fixed.
This at once formed an open screen, and needed
little more than the repetition of the same features
on the Ave'st, Avhich already existed on the east, to
make it a sightly and consistent design. The
screen, being thus bisected by a plane, Avanted
only the other half supplied to make it complete,
and that Avithout touching the existing Avork.
This is a rough definition of Avhat Avas done. It
is not an exact or exhaustive one, but I may state
that no old Avork Avas disturbed, and that the new
Avestern face is, in all parts which applied, an
exact reproduction of the work on the eastern
side. Its use, however, has been stupidly marred
by filling in the openings with plate glass.
Durham Cathedral.
I Avas only engaged here on internal work in or
about the choir.

chap, vin.] Recollections. 353
The stalls and screen were of Bishop Cosin's
time. The screen had been removed twenty-five
years back, and the canopies of the stalls divided
into lengths, and pushed back betAveen the
columns. The side stalls are iioav set right, and
a very open screen placed where the old one
; stood. There is also a neAV pulpit and pavement,
for Avhich I am responsible.
The altar-screen had formerly a Purbeck slab,
as a sort of retabulum, on which Ave knoAv that rich
embroidery AAas hung. This had been covered over
by a piece of very bad sculpture twenty-five years
back, which Ave removed, and have placed needle
work there again.
I suspect that the .floor betAveen the stalls
(which rises two steps above that of the nave)
is a step too high, as it leaves no " Gradus
Presbyterii." The lectern is also new. The organ-case and
the repairs of the stalls are the work of Mr. C. H.
FoAvler, the chapter architect.
A violent opposition was raised against this work
by certain of the canons, who thought thereby to
curry favour A\ith the bishop. The Dean and
Archdeacon Bland were the great supporters of
the Avork. St. , Albans.
To return to St. Albans, much has been done
since I last mentioned it. The repairs of the
eastern part of the main building are generally
completed, and the Marchioness -of Salisbury
having undertaken to raise funds towards the
restoration of the eastern chapels, much has been
a a

354 Sir Gilbert Scott.
done to them also : I may refer here to my report
addressed to Lady Salisbury.
At the present moment the work is in abeyance,
but no doubt it will soon be resumed, as the new
see is nearly established and fresh funds are being
raised. I gave a dinner at St. Albans in 1875 to the
Council of the Institute, and many other friends,
and we had a delightful field-day in the abbey.
The tower had been thoroughly repaired and
strengthened in 1871, as had been also its two abut
ting Avails to the north-east and north-west. The
openings made in modern times in these two eastern
Avails as I have already mentioned, had been Availed
up, and the two ancient entrances reopened ; that
on the north side, however, being strengthened
by reducing its width, though without concealing
its earlier dimensions. The opening in the south
Avail had been investigated as to its internal design
many years before, Avhen we had found its materials
pulled down and used to Avail up the opening.
These details had been carefully stored up
during the long, interval, and were noAv built up in
their original places with exact precision : thus
recovering, and, to a large extent, with its own
materials, a very curious feature, a projecting
doorAvay surmounted by a range of three taber
nacles, in a style very similar to that of the
Eleanor crosses, though probably a little earlier in
actual date.
On the opposite side of the presbytery a careful
examination shoAved the traces of a similar
arrangement to that of the south doorway, though
not precisely opposite to it. Here, however, we

chap viii.] Recollections. 355
had not the copious stored-up fragments which
enabled us to reconstruct, so largely with its. OAvn
materials, the southern one. There Avas in fact
but one small fragment of the doorway, but there
were considerable marks of the rest, marks which
would have been of themselves unintelligible, but
with the aid of the other side quite clear and in
disputable. As Ave were compelled to reopen this
doonvay, owing to the necessity of walling up its
modern supplanter (one bay eastward) for security,
I copied the north doorway.
Later on Ave discovered the veritable pinnacles
of the tabernacle work over this, doorway, and Ave
then removed those Avhich had been copied from
the Avork on the opposite side, and substituted the
true ones, Avith their coloured decorations upon
them. They differ in design from those of their
opposite neighbours, shoAving that, Avhile doing
two things substantially alike, the builders indulged
in Aariety in the details.
A doubt has suggested itself to me since then
as to Avhether the doonvay itself was not different
in design. The circumstances are these.
• In the north aisle of the presbytery there Avere
¦two external doorways : one of early perpendicular
character, clearly introduced at the time Avhich its
style indicates, the other as clearly of modern
introduction, but made up extensively of old
details, mostly of a style agreeing with the date
of this eastern arm of the church, 1 280-90. This
latter doorway was, as I have said, clearly a modern
insertion, though strangely enough inserted at a
point Avhere a small original doorway had always
existed. In fact, Avhen in modern times this main
a a 2

356 Sir Gilbei't Scott.
approach to the church from the tOAvn had been
made, the place of this old small doorway was
found to be more convenient than that of the later
perpendicular one, so the latter was Availed up and .
the former enlarged. Oddly enough they had a
doonvay of the thirteenth century date on hand, and
this they inserted, making up some of its orna
mental details from fragments of the- nave-screen.
I fancied at the time that the doorway thus used
had been an outer doorway of the eastern chapels,
•and I thought that if its place could be found, we
might re-insert it. Unluckily Avhile thinking aloud,
in presence of the clerk of the works, he took me
too hastily at my Avord, and removed the inserted
doonvay, before I Avas aware of it. We afterwards
found precisely the inner design of the old door-
way, Avhich formed an opening in the wall-arcading.
This Ave have restored, but, finding no trace of its
outside form (excepting that the base-moulds
returned to make way for it) I did not make any
attempt at restoring the actual opening.
Meanwhile we examined— by excavation — the
walls of the eastern chapels, only to discover that
there never had been any doonvay to them, and
thus we Avere left with a fine contemporary door-
Avay on our hands, and so remain to this day.
Suspicions haA'e groAvn upon me that -this was
in reality the doorway of the north side of the pres
bytery, far richer and someAvhat larger than its
southern neighbour. This has not yet been suffi
ciently Investigated. I mention it Avith some shame
as an antiquarian failure, arising from going on too
fast, and ahead of full investigation. I repent and
confess.

chap, viii.] Recollections. 327
The great triumph of our work has been, of course,
the recovery and the putting together of the sub
structure of the shrine of St. Alban. The second
has been the like discovery of that of St. Amphibalus,
Avhich I hope will also be soon set up in its old
place.4 Careful descriptions of these shrines ought
to be Avritten.
I forbear to say anything of our operations in the
nave, till they are more advanced, and the difficulty
occasioned by the leaning of the five western bays
on the south side of the nave is passed. God
grant us success.5
I am in this, as in other works, obliged to face
right and left to combat at once two enemies from
either hand, the one Avanting me to do too much,
and the other finding fault with me for doing
anything at all.
The leader of the latter party is Mr. Loftie,
whom I have ansAvered twice in the Guardian,
in 1875, and also in Macmillan' s Magazine in
this year (1877). He seems irrepressible, for no
matter how often a statement of his is refuted,
he reiterates it just as if no such refutation had
been made. Happily he is an Irishman, and his
OAvn bulls are- his best refutation.
The leader among those Avho wish me to do
what I ought not to do is Sir Edmund Becket.
4 This has been done. It now stands in its original place in
the ante-chapel of the Lady Chapel. — Ed.
5 This great engineering work, to which my father had
devoted immense pains, and all the details of which he had
most carefully contrived, was carried out with complete success
only a few weeks after his death. — Ed.

CHAPTER IX.
The Anti-Restoration Movement
{October, 1877).
I CAN hardly say that this movement expresses a
sentiment Avhich Is neAV to me, for in the case of
the first considerable restoration placed in my
hands, that of St. Mary's Church at Stafford,
I Avas assailed nearly on the same principle by Mr.
Petit. My correspondence with that highly-gifted
gentleman was lithographed, and I would refer to
it as a very early discussion of this question, dating
as it does about 1840 or 1841. The expression
Avhich I see has been made use of in the latest
deliverance of opinion on the subject, to the effect
that more harm has been done by modern, restora
tion than by three centuries of contempt, &c, Avas
originated by myself during that correspondence
thirty-six years ago.
Some seven years later I wrote my paper on
faithful restoration, wholly on the side of con-
servatism ; but in a note, added in 1858, I
combated the extreme views of Mr. Ruskin
against any form of restoration. Much later
I wrote a paper on restoration, again wholly
on the side of conservatism, which was read

chap, ix.] Recollections. 359
before the Institute of British Architects and
printed. I have draAvn up directions to builders
and clerks of the Avorks employed on such Avorks,
have helped in framing those of the Institute, and
in my three opening papers, delivered while Presi
dent of that body, I have expressed myself, as
strongly as words would enable me, onthe same
subject, nor haA'e I failed on all possible minor
opportunities to do the same.
It is therefore rather hard to bear that I should
now be made the butt of an extreme party, who
wish to make me out to be the ring-leader of
destructiveness. I have said enough in every paper I have
written, and on every occasion on which I have
spoken on the subject, to show that, Avhatever
view pne may take of the anti-restoration move
ment, I cannot for a moment assert that it is un
provoked. On the contrary, I hold that there
never Avas a case of more intense and aggravating
provocation. The country has been, and continues to be,
actually devastated with destruction under the
name of restoration. For years and years the
vast majority of the churches to be restored have
been committed to men, who neither know, nor care
anything whatever about them, and out of whose
hands they have emerged in a condition truly
deplorable, stripped of almost everything which
gave them interest or value; while it must be
admitted that the best of us have been blame-
able, and that even our conservatism has been
more or less destructive.
The three great grounds of complaint against

360 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the new party are — (1) That they have remained
absolutely silent Avhile all this destruction and
barbarism has been perpetrated, never giving one
Avord of encouragement to the feAv who, though
inadequately, have been for years raising their
voices against it : (2) That noAv, after having
stood silently by, Avitnessing all this devastation
Avithout complaint or protest, they suddenly turn
round and visit it all on those Avhose protests they
have all along refused to support : that they do
not scruple to load with false accusations and to
hold up to execration, as the authors of all the
mischief, the very persons who have (however
feebly) endeavoured to mitigate it, and Avho have
never received the smallest expression of. sympathy
from those who noAv, when all the mischief is done,
raise their voices to vilify the men whose efforts
they had throughout declined to. aid: (3) That
they now take, what they must well know to be, an
impracticable line, advocating, not any reasonable
mode of treatment of ancient buildings, but the
mere abstaining from doing anything Avhatever to
them beyond the barest sustenance.
This long-continued silence on their part . has
made them in truth participes criminis: this
treatment of those Avho haA'e all along protested
is the most culpable injustice : and this imprac
ticability of vieAV makes one doubt the sincerity of
the opinions thus tardily proclaimed. Yet, if they
Avould adopt a reasonable and practicable line,
they might even yet effect great good.
I have' at this moment to fight a double battle.
I have, as throughout, to be fighting against those
who Avould treat old buildings destructively, and I

chap, ix.] Recollectibns. 361
have, on the other hand, to defend myself against
those Avho accuse me of the principles, against
which I contend, and who oppose one's doing
anything at all.
The last paper I had occasion to Avrite, and that
not a month back, Avas in opposition to Sir Edmund
Becket, A\rho argues that we ought to deal with
old buildings as the mediaeval builders them
selves did ; in point of fact, to treat them
as we should do any modern building, doing to
them just Avhat is right in pur own eyes. On
the other hand, we are told by the anti-restoration
party that we have no right to do anything to them
beyond the barest reparation. Thus everything
which, previous perhaps to the present century,
was done to them has become sacred as a matter
of history, and claims as much regard as the
noblest architecture of their earlier days.
These conflicting vieAvs are to my mind almost
equally mistaken.
My answer (written the other day) to the first
view is that these old buildings have become, by
the general consent of those best able to judge,
antiquarian and historical monuments, which fact
severs them from the merely common-sense treat
ment, to which other buildings are subjected.
But surely there must be a limit to this sever
ance. The principle can hardly be supposed to
extend to alterations so modern, as to be contem
porary Avith buildings Avhich have no claim to such
exception. If, for example, a house of comparatively
.modern date, standing by the side of an an
cient church, needs alteration or enlargement

362 Sir Gilbert Scott.
to suit it to its present uses, not even our critics
Avould affirm that no such alterations should be
permitted. They Avould only say, if the house has
any character, the better parts of it should be
spared, and the alterations Avhich may be necessary
should be carried out in reasonable harmony with
them. Why, then, if the church has features in it
of only the same period Avith the house, should
those features claim any greater respect ? More
than this, these features may be not only altogether
out of harmony Avith the rest of the church, but
may be at Aariance Avith its uses, may disfigure
the original structure, and may be the result of
abuses Avhich by common consent should be
abolished. Surely, then, the fact, that the church
itself has become an historical monument, cannot
reasonably be pleaded in favour of its compara
tively modern disfigurements. True, these more
modern - features may have merits and claims of
their own, and these should be respected, but
their claims are Avholly different from those of the
ancient fabric itself.
Take for instance the case of Ely Chapel (St.
Etheldreda's) in Holborn.
The palace to Avhich it belonged Avas destroyed
in 1776, after Avhich houses were built against
either side of it tOAvards the east, blocking up two
of its side Avindows. The east and Avest windows
only suffered from some minor vandalism, but the
rest of the side Avindows were deprived of their
mullions and traceries, galleries Avere built on each
side of the chapel, and two at its west end, and
the area was peAved in the most wretched manner.
The blocked-up Avindows were some years back

chap, ix.] Recollections. 363
partially opened out, and the beautiful tracery dis
covered. The Anti-restoration Society now protest
against that of the remaining side-Avindows being
replaced according to the design thus discovered.
Whether they disapprove of the removal of the
galleries and pews, I knoAv not, but they oppose
any of the mutilated architecture. being reinstated,
proclaiming the execrable wooden AvindoAV-frames
of the end of the last century to be just as his
torical as the charming tracery of Bishop de Luda;
and, as I suppose, blaming the removal of the
historical lath and plaster Avhich had concealed the
two remaining ancient windows.
This is a fair example of the lengths to Avhich
this new society will go, and I do not hesitate to
say that the palm for sound sense lies with the
architects employed,. who are . replacing the lost
traceries, Avhile avoiding the reparation of features
which have only suffered from decay.
There are, hoAvever, many questions connected
with the treatment of ancient buildings, which are
far more reasonably open to discussion, and I wish
that some really judicious men would take these,
fairly and dispassionately, under consideration. I
have long and often urged that such doubtful cases
should be submitted to the decision, in each case,
of some independent and competent body, Avhich
'should unite the archaeological and the ecclesio
logical elements in due proportions, not neglecting
the claims of architecture and good taste.
November igth, 1877.
The promoters of this hue and cry against all
restoration, seem to direct themselves especially

364 Sir Gilbert Scott.
against the architects, as if they were the prime
movers in the matter : they go so far as to lay it to
our charge, as if it was our loAe of employment
Avhich led to our engagement in such works.
The case, hoAvever, is quite otherwise. In no
instance do I remember acting as prime mover in a
restoration: on the contrary, I am sent for by others
who feel its necessity, or are so convinced of its
desirability that they apply to me to report on the
condition of the building. True, if I wrere convinced
that restoration were in itself wrong, I ought at
once to say so, and to decline to report, or to do
anything to further such wish or intention; but
not ha\-ing this conviction, my aim has been to
recommend the course-which I feel to be the best,
and if the work is carried out, to do it in the best
manner which my experience and judgment suggest
to me.
I have not read Professor ColvhVs article, but in
an extract which I saw the other day in a news
paper, I see, that in speaking of me, he says that
I proclaim, Conservatism, Conservatism, and again
Conservatism, to be my principle, but that he sees
no real difference between my principle, and that
against which I declaim.
I AAas almost going to say that if there is no
such difference, " Then I have cleansed my heart
in Aain, and washed my hands in innocency." I
do not however say this ; for though this has been
my aim, bad judgment, the urgent influence of
clients, the constant endeavour of those who work
under me, whether as clerks of works, builders,
or AA-orkmen, the tumbling doAvn of portions of
ancient buildings which I most Avished to preserve,

chap, ix.] Recollections. 365
and a thousand other circumstances cut the
grounds of this all too boastful claim from under
one. Yet surely there must be a great difference
between the Avorks of those who long, and Avho
labour, to act conservatively, and those of men who
have no such desire, or if they had, are too igno
rant to knoAv hoAV to carry out their own aims. If
Mr. Coh'in does not see such difference, surely it is
owing to his oaati Avant of knowledge of the subject
rather than to the absence, of such a distinction.
Is there no difference forsooth between stone
work, gently cleansed of its coating of whiteAvash,
leaving every mark of the old mason's tool as
distinct as Avhen first wrought, and. Avork rudely
scraped or re-tooled, so as to leave no trace of its
original surface ? These critics see none.
Is there no difference between a restored roof
which retains all its. ancient timber, excepting the
rotten parts Avhich threatened its speedy ruin, and
whose existence has been indefinitely prolonged,
by most careful and only needful reparation ; and
a roof entirely destroyed, whose place is occupied
by a neAV one, perhaps of deal, and probably
haAing no reference Avhatever to the old design ?
These men see none.
Is there no difference, again, between a build
ing carefully and learnedly studied, and its parts
investigated Avith the most anxious and studious
care, and one ignorantly dealt Avith, Avithout investi
gation, Avithout anxiety, Avithout knoAviedge. These
, people see none.
I should care less for this Avilful blindness, were it
not for its mischievous result ; and here.again these
critics Avill— and are Avelcome to — accuse me of

366 Sir Gilbert Scott.
vulgar selfishness. The result I refer to is this.
Seeing that pretended judges proclaim that no differ
ence exists between theAvorkof devoted and earnest-
minded men, and that of the ignorant herd Avho
have usually to deal with ancient Avorks — seeing
that, on the contrary, the works of the former are
held up systematically to execration, while those
of the latter are passed by unnoticed — the public
Avho are utterly careless of the whole matter, will
place future works in the hands of ignorant
tyros, in preference to employing men who have
deA'oted themselves to the earnest study of the
subject. An advocate of the "do nothing" system of
medical treatment declaims equally against the
most eminent physician and the most ignorant
quack ; both alike doctor their patients, and both
alike are Avrong in doing so. The public, not
quite convinced that nothing should be done, are
thereby encouraged to employ the first doctor
that may turn up, instead of the learned and
j udicious physician. But here we have a Avholesome
safeguard, " all that a man hath will he give for his
life," and the folly of the critic falls harmless to
the ground. Such safeguard, hoAvever, does not
exist in the case of ancient buildings.
On the contrary, the majority of men prefer the
Avorst architect, and the most slap-dash way of deal
ing with the Avork, and Avould give anything to be
rid of the restraint which -a conscientious architect
imposes upon their AAishes. I can truly say that
my life is burdened with the constant outcry made
against me for endeavouring to keep a check
upon the vandalism of my employers, and upon

chap, ix..] Recollections. 367
the earnest pressure on all sides to destroy or
alter something which this, that, or the other
man, has a fancy against ; and I feel no doubt
that the practical result of this outcry against
doing anything will be the encouragement of de
structiveness. I would here refer to my speech
and to a long paper in reply to Mr. SteA^enson in
the transactions of the Institute, also, to my reply
to Mr. Loftie in Macmillan's Magazine} and to
the folloAving letter to Sir Edmund Lechmere re
specting an attack on me by Mr. Morris (all in
1877):- My dear Sir Edmund, — I thank you for sending
me the number of the Athenceum.
I have been told that I am systematically and
very bitterly traduced by Avriters in that paper ; but
as I know that I do not deserve it, I never seek
to see these articles, much less to answer them.
You, my dear Sir Edmund, know Avhether I am
" destroying " the church,2 or contemplating such
treatment of it as is Intended by that term. You
know whether I am " hopeless, because interest,
habit, and ignorance bind " me. Nay, you knoAv
whether I have obliterated, a single chisel-mark of
the old masons, and whether I haAre not, lovingly
and carefully, traced out the almost obliterated
evidence and relics of much of their work, and
shown by every possible means, my love of a
building of the class, of Avhich " the newly invented
study " is " the chief joy " of my life.
Nevertheless, painful and galling as it is, I
v Both these papers will be found in Appendix C. — Ed.
8 Tewkesbury Abbey. — Ed.

^68 Sir Gilbert Scott.

o

rejoice in such letters and protests : for true —
most dreadfully true— it is that Avhat " modern
architect, parson, and squire call restoration," has
Avrought wholesale ruin among our ancient build
ings. I have lifted up my voice on this subject
for more than thirty years, and, though not fault
less, have striven Avith all my might to avoid such
errors, and to prevent their commission by others.
I feel more deeply on this subject than on any
other, and never lose an opportunity of protesting
against barbarisms of this kind, in season and out
of season.
I am, therefore, Avilling to be sacrificed by being
made the victim in a cause Avhich I have so in
tensely at heart.
I do fear, hoAvever, that these indiscriminating
letters defeat their OAvn object; for I observe
that they rarely attack any but the works of
those who. strive to act conscientiously ; and
most of all attack me who, I am bold to say,
am amongst the most scrupulously conservative
of restorers, and haA'e the greatest conceivable love
of ancient remains. Thus, by abusing the archi
tect who more than others has lifted up the
standard of conservatism, and by sparing those
(Avhose name is legion) Avho have filled the country
Avith havoc and destruction, they encourage, the
increasing disposition to commit these works to
the hands, not of conservatives but of destroyers,
by thus assuring "squires and parsons" that the
latter will be dealt Avith mercifully, or winked at,
while the former will have to suffer in their
stead. I dare say people may be low-minded enough to

chap, ix.] Recollections. 369
say that my protests against the destructiveness
of others is self-interested. I leave such minds
to enjoy their OAvn fallacies.
Anyhow, restorations or. reparations are neces*
sary, but I . think it Avholesome that those Avho
carry them out should live in constant danger.
Herodotus (I think) tells us that the Egyptians,
while religiously scrupulous as to having the bodies
of their relations embalmed, so soon as the process
was over, pursued the unhappy embalmer, and
if they caught him, sleAv him. This is somewhat
like the lot of the embalmers of ancient monu
ments : so if I suffer among those who deserve
it, I only trust it will impel me to strive not to
deserve it. If so, " all's Avell that ends well."
Yours very faithfully,
George Gilbert Scott.
It seems to be the opinion of some, In Avhose
ranks I may place Sir Edmund Becket, (who,
however, puts himself out of the pale by boasting
that he is no antiquary, and by condemning per
sons who are so, and who bring their knowledge to
bear upon restoration, as steeped in antiquarianism),
that the rule of action in dealing with mediaeval
buildings is, to act as the mediaeval builders them
selves did ; in fact precisely in the same manner
as that in Avhich Ave treat modern buildings. We
ought, they consider, freely to make such alterations
in them as Ave deem best calculated to suit them to
ouroAvn convenience, and even to our own taste, Avith
out shoAving any special respect for their architec
ture, beyond what harmony and good sense suggest ;
much less any special regard for them as links in
b b

370 Sir Gilbert Scott.
the history of art, or in history of any kind. We
should not, as they think, bring to bear upon their
treatment any of that class of feeling Avhich we
call " sentiment," unless it be some slight tribute
of respect for a noted architect, founder, or bene
factor. Now I vieAv this theory applied to ancient
monuments as wholly Avrong. As regards modern
buildings it is obviously (within certain reasonable
limits) right ; and it is natural that persons Avho
eschew antiquarianism, historical associations, and
" sentiment," should apply it equally to the treat
ment of ancient buildings still in use, especially
when their object is the defence of some favourite
scheme of their OAvn.
The anti-restoration party, on the contrary, take
the extreme reverse of this view j claiming for all
ancient buildings and Avorks, and for some Avhich
are not very ancient, so intense an amount of
veneration as almost to forbid even reparation,
and absolutely to forbid anything approaching to
restoration or any treatment calculated to render
them fitter for their present uses.
I infinitely prefer the last named view, though
I believe it to be such an exaggeration as would
defeat its own objects ; but the former I hold to
be a most dangerous error.
I have recently met in an old pamphlet on
Restoration by Mr. E. A. Freeman, Avritten in
1852,3 with the following passage, in which he
defines well the difference between the claims
of old and modern buildings : —
3 The pamphlet is entitled " The preservation and restorti-
tion of ancient monuments." — Ed.

chap, ix.] RecollirtioHS.

o/-

w Antiquity is the seiaice of the past ; it is the study of things
and events sufficiently removed firm* us to have acquired an
extrinsic value, as witnesses to a state of things no longer exist
ing. We look upon an ancient church or castle, not merely as
a work of art, but as the relic and witness of a farmer age, of
sentiments, institutions, and states of society which have passed
away. Feelings like these could not have existed in the
middle ages with regard to any of the great Avorks of Roman
esque or Gothic architecture. For in the first place, they did
not represent a past state of dungs but a present; all the
forms of Gothic architecture, and, for this purpose, we may
add, of Romanesque also, were parts of one living whole, con
tinually changing, developing, improving, or corrupting, but
never becoming completely extinct So too with those religious
and political sentiments and circumstances of which those forms
of architecture were die material expression; die building to
be destroyed did not at any period speak of an entirely past
state of dungs. The age of William the Conqueror and the
age of Henry VTOth were indeed widely different, more
widely different, in some important respects, than the latter is
from our own; but die change between them was gradual and
imperceptible ; no one period was separated from any other by
the same impassable gulf which separates us from die whole
they constitute ; no single event from the Conquest to the Re
formation ever produced the total revulsion of taste and senti
ment, which, speaking widely, we may call the result of the
lattet. Had William of Wykeham devoted himself to archseo
logical research, die works of Poore or even of Gundulf could
not have appeared to him in the light of antiquities. They
were merely modem erections, claiming no respect beyond
what intrinsically belonged to them as works of art, and which,
if he thought he could improve upon diem, he would sacrifice
with as little scruple as we should any structure of the last age.
The venerable rust of antiquity had as yet hardly gadiered even
upon the swords of the crusaders ; its consecrating mould had
still to settle upon die frowning towers of London and of
Rochester, upon the massive arches of Southwell and St Albans.
Had a past existed to him, in the sense in which his age is the
past to us, that past could hardly have been looked for in any
remains more recent than die camps and walls and gateways,
which remained dien probably in far greater abundance than
at present, to bear witness to the universal sway of die Imperial
Cuy."
B b 2

372 Sir Gilbert Scott.
The "Queen Anne" Styl-e.
January, 1878.
The movement in favour of this style, or family
of styles, has been no doubt a vexatious disturber
of the Gothic movement.
The ardent promoters and sharers in the Gothic
movement had fondly flattered themselves that
theirs Avas a preternatural heaven-born impulse ;
that they had been born, and by force of circum
stances trained, and led on, by a concurrence
of events wholly apart from their OAvn choice and
AArill, to be instruments under Providence in effect
ing a great revival. They vieAved that revival as
in part religious, and in part patriotic.
For myself, I felt conscious of having been led
to love Gothic architecture in my youth spon
taneously, Avithout any external inducement, and
without any selfish, or even hopeful aim. I fol
lowed up Gothic architecture from every book I
could find, and every old building 1 could meet
Avith, just as practically and just as much in detail,
Avhile I had no thought of ever using, or aiding in
reviving it, as I have done since it became the
employment of my life. So that the sketches which
I made, and the details and measurements which I
took, Avhile I had no practical object in view, are as
useful to me in my professional Avork, as those I
have since made Avith a direct A^ieAV to practical use.
I did not attempt in my early practice to use
what I had thus gathered, but Avhile working con
tentedly in modern styles, continued, as time and
opportunity would permit, to sketch and take

chap. ix.J Recollections. 373
details, for the mere love of it, from ancient
buildings. Later on I took to designing churches, and then
found my acquired knowledge useful, though in a
state little serviceable, from my never having
thought much of it from a practical point of view.
I was awakened from my slumbers by the thunder
of Pugin's writings. I well remember the enthu
siasm to AAmich one of them excited me, one night
when travelling by railv.ray, in the first years of
their existence. I Avas from that moment a new
man. Old things (in my practice) had passed
away, and, behold, all things had become new, or
rather modernism had passed aAvay from me and
every aspiration of my heart had become mediaeval.
What had for fifteen years been a labour of love
only, now became the one business, the one aim,
the one overmastering object of my life. I cared
for nothing as regarded my art, but the revival of
gothic architecture. I did not know Pugin, but
his image in my imagination was like my guardian
angel, and I often dreamed that I kneAv him.
In later years I fully thought that my experience,
and that of some, perhaps many, others pointed to
a special interposition of Providence for a special
purpose, and often have I expressed this in Avriting,
as in a paper entitled the " Gothic Renaissance,"4
in ¦ my first R.A. lecture, and in my inaugural
address in 1873 as President of the Institute of
British Architects.
The course which the revival Avas at one time
taking was first disturbed by the Italian mania,
arising from Mr. Ruskin's writings ; then by the
4 Published by Saunders and Otley, in i860.

374 Sir Gilbert Scott..
French rage, coming in Avith the Lille Cathedral
competition ; and later on by the revulsion against
this, AArhich might have set things right again, had
not many Avho had been most ardently French— so
much so that no moderate man could hold his
own for their gallomania — become as furiously
anti-gothic ; and to carry out their neAv Aaews turned
round in favour of seventeenth-century Avork, and
finally of " Queen Anne."
I have no right to expose this frivolity, for I
Avas myself, in a measure, carried away A\rith some
of the earlier rages ; and also because Avhen beaten
out of my gothic by Lord Palmerston in the matter
of the Government Offices, I felt compelled, in the
interests of my family, to succumb, and to build
them in classic, for Avhich my early training had
fairly fitted me. It did, hoAvever, seem hard that
the very men who had once goaded me for not
being Gothic or French enough, should be the
very men to forsake gothic (for secular buildings
at least) at the moment when its success Avas the
most promising. I had ahvays resented my classic
opponents calling our mediaeval enthusiasm a mere
" fashion," but this change did really appear no
better than a tailor's change in the cut of a coat,
and the trifles which gave rise to it seem to be
evinced by the strange vagaries in dress, &c, by
which it Avas accompanied.
When, however, one considers the results, the case
is not so bad. Though many buildings may be
erected in the so-called " Queen Anne " style, which
Avould otherwise have been gothic, the majority of
such Avould, no doubt, have been erected in the ver
nacular style of the day, and so far the change

chap, ix.] Recollections. 375
has been an unquestionable gain : Ave have rich
colour and lively, picturesque architecture in lieu
of the dull monotony of the usual street archi
tecture, and more than this the style is half-way
between gothic and classic in its effect, and goes
all the way. in its use of material.
The style of Queen Anne's time Avas really the
domestic variety of the architecture of Sir Chris
topher Wren, and a very good style it really was ;
but the style noAv known by that name embraces
all varieties, from the close of the Elizabethan
period to the middle of the eighteenth century,
with a preference for that most resembling Eliza
bethan, so that it really brings in very much which
is highly picturesque and artistic in character
such as no " Gothic man " would fail to appreciate.
Again, it has the advantage of eluding the popular
objections to gothic, when used for secular pur
poses. It meets the prejudices of the modern
halfway, and turns the point of his Aveapons.
When first taken up it Avas really more like the
true Queen Anne, than it has since become :
its use of common sash Avindows Avas one of its
popular points, and the difficulties, assumed to be
felt in accommodating gothic Avindows to modern
use, were urged as an argument in its favour.
Once, hoAvever, in the saddle, the Queen Anne-ites r
soon threw off this disguise, and freely adopted
lead lights, iron casements, and all kinds of old
fashions which a gothic architect would have
hardly dared to employ, so much so, indeed, that
a so-called " Queen. Anne " house is uoav more a
revival of the past than a modern gothic house.
In my book, written about 1859, my object AA-as

376 Sir Gilbert Scott.
to snow that gothic Avould admit of any degree of
modernism. The aim of the Queen Anne architects
noAv seems to be to shoAv that nothing can be too
old-fashioned for their style.
I heartily Avish them all success in this, and
Avhen they haAre succeeded, I trust Ave Goths may
be allowed to pick up a fe\v crumbs of their reA'ived
old fashions, and to use them in our style, without
being taunted as the revivers of obsolete customs,
or with making our houses look like churches.

EXPLICIT.

APPENDIX A.

The latest date which appears in the "Recollections" is
January, 1878. My father departed this life on the 27th of
the folloAving March. A few words seem needed to complete
the story.
The following Avorks of importance were in progress at the
time of his death, beside those Avhich are referred to in the
"Recollections;" —
The refitting of tho choir of Canterbury Cathedral, as to
which some controversy has arisen, as will be seen from certain
passages in the papers on the subject of restoration printed as
Appendix C j the restoration of Tewkesbury Abbey ; the erec
tion of the Great Hall of Glasgow University, for which the plans
had been prepared, and which is now about to commence ;
the Cathedral of Edinburgh, the nave of which has just been
consecrated The restoration of the nave of St. Alban's
Abbey, still in progress, is a Avork Avhich has on se\-eral
accounts excited general interest. The great Avork of forcing
back to the .perpendicular by mechanical means the south
wall of the na\-e for some 105 feet of its length, a wall 66 feet
in height, which in the centre of the length to be dealt with
overhung its base to the extent of a feet 3 inches, is an ex
ample of architectural engineering upon a large scale, Avhich
has attracted much attention; the more so, perhaps, since
he who had devised the whole plan, Avhich has been carried
out with such complete success, did not live to enjoy the
satisfaction of it. The repair of John De Cella s magnificent
portals, and the restoration of Abbot Trumpington's nave roof,
were also pending at the time of Sir Gilbert's death, and
have given occasion to warm controversies. The choir screen

37§ Appendix.
at Beverley Minster, the Hook Memorial Church at Leeds,
and the restoration of the Parish Church of Halifax, may also
be mentioned ; as we'll as the restoration of the west fronts
of Lichfield and St. David's CatHedrals, and of the nave of
Salisbury. The restoration of the Chapel of New College was
also in progress, and that of St. Margaret's Church, West
minster ; while in the Abbey itself the work of bringing back
the noble portals of the north transept to their original design
had been commenced, and is still in course of execution.
Among many other works of more or less general interest,
which Avere similarly in progress at the time of Sir Gilbert's
death, and which it has been left to his sons to carry on to
completion, may be mentioned the Cathedral of Graham's
Town in South Africa.
Of the last few days of my father's life, a very minute
account has been preserved by John Pavings, who had long
acted as his valet, and for whom, from his constant and faith
ful service, my father had a high regard. Although of his
four sons then living two resided under the same roof with
him, and the others but a few miles away, yet so little
anticipation was there of any danger on the part of the medical
men or of others, that only one of us — my brother John^-was
with him at all during the last days of his life, and he, from
one cause and another, saw but little of him.
It was on Tuesday the 19th of March that my father first
began to ail. He had long suffered from varicose veins in the
left leg. On this day they caused him much discomfort, and
Dr. Westlake, who was called in, ordered him to keep to his
bed. So little, however, was thought of this, that on Wednesday
morning my brother and his wife, who resided with my father, left
town for four days, and on the Saturday following my youngest
brother, who also lived at home, went down into Suffolk for some
fishing, intending to return on the 27th, and; leaving no address.
On the Friday Dr. Westlake saw my father again, and said in
answer to an inquiry, " Sir Gilbert will be about again in a
week." On Saturday he felt well enough to leave his bed
for the sofa.
On Sunday he suffered somewhat from rheumatism, situated,
as Dr. Seton, his regular medical adviser, ascertained, in the
muscles between the ribs. In spite of this, he was, as usual,
full of fun. A nephew,, a medical student, happening to call,

Appendix. 379
my father sent out word, "Ask Doctor Alfred to come in."
" Is there a guinea ready ? " was the reply . • to which my father
sent back, " Ask him for his diploma." On this day he kept
his bed, but on the Monday he got up and had an interview
in his study with two members of Glasgow University on the
subject of the Bute Hall. He had acted against medical
advice in leaving his bed while suffering as he was from the
veins in his leg ; and now, instead of returning to it, he
decided to sit down to lunch with Dr. Allan Thomson and his
companion. To his man, who ventured a remonstrance, he
said, " I feel perfectly well ; why should I be mewed up here ?
I shall enjoy lunching with them, and it will do me good."
There is reason to fear that this imprudence cost him his life,
the exertion bringing about that disaster against which his
medical advisers had distinctly warned him, — the detachment
of a blood-clot from the inflamed vein, and its passage into the
circulation, and eventually to the heart. Still, although, as his
man expresses it, " done up," he was in good spirits. " I am
going," he said to. Pavings, "to the Academy meeting for
the election of  -.<.-¦ ." " What shall you do with your
bfeg, then, Sir Gilbert ? " " Take it with me, I hope," was the
reply. " If you go, I shall go to take care of you," said his
man. " So you may," rejoined my father. " Sir Francis always
takes his butler with him, and he tucks him up. You shall do
the same for me." A little later, speaking with Pavings of
Cromwell and the Roundheads, "round-heads," he said,
" like yours ;" and calling, for his rule he measured his own
and Pavings' heads. Sir Gilbert's was an inch the longer, but
his man's was the wider by one finger-breadth.
This evening Dr. Seton saw him for the last time. Though
strongly urging the necessity of perfect rest, he yet thought so
favourably of the case that he did not call on the following day.
The next morning (Tuesday the 26th) my father recounted
to his man a quaint dream which he had had, over which they
had a good laugh together. " In the course of it," said my
father, "I saw my dear wife; I never saw her more plainly
in my life," and he seemed quite to brighten up on thinking
of it. All this day he lay in bed, but saw several persons on
business in his bedroom, and enjoyed his meals as usual.
After dinner a letter arrived from one whom my father had
often assisted, a Roman Catholic architect who had had great

380 Appendix.
misfortunes and was lying ill. Pavings was disp.osed to blame
the- man, but Sir Gilbert said, " It is very wicked to speak
harshly of poor people," and wrote out a cheque at once.
This was the last time that my father put pen to paper. Some
seven hours later he was called to his account, and by a
touching coincidence he, on whose behalf he last employed
his pen, survived his benefactor but a single day. After this
an allusion to a person of humbler position, whose necessities
my father had constantly relieved, led him to remark upon the
law of Moses concerning the jubilee, and to apply to the case
of such pensioners the passage in Deuteronomy (xv. 13, 14),
" Thou shalt not let him go away empty : thou shalt furnish
him liberally : of that wherewith the Lord thy God hath blessed
thee thou shalt give unto him." This led to a long conversa
tion upon the story of the Exodus, in the course of which Sir
Gilbert answered many difficulties which had occurred to
Pavings. On his saying, " How did Moses get up to the top
of that mountain ? " my father laughingly replied, " Moses had
not such a game leg as I have."
Between nine and ten that night my brother John was with
him, but stayed only for a short time, as Sir Gilbert seemed
tired and wished to go to sleep.
A little later his leg appeared to trouble him, for remarking
that the doctor had not called that day, he said, " My leg is
no better ; if it does not soon get better, it will do for me."
Still he was cheerful, chatting with Pavings about Stowe at
the time that the present Duke was christened, and about his
native village, which led to his telling the following story :—
Mr. Law was a pious but absent-minded farmer, who was
occasionally invited to dine at the parsonage on Sundays.
On one occasion — my grandfather" being away — Mr. Law had
to say grace, which he did at great length. He also happened
in the course of the same meal to get confused among the
various cruets on the table, and sprinkled the sugar upon his
meat. After he had gone, the eldest of the brothers was
laughing at his long grace, when Miss Gilbert, his aunt, re
proved him, saying, " My dear, Mr. Law's grace was ' seasoned
with salt.' " " Yes," he replied, " and his meat with sugar."
I give this story not for its own sake, but as illustrating the
almost child-like love of fun which my father exhibited to the
very last. An allusion in the course of conversation to the

Appendix. 38 1
old stage-coachmen, recalled to his mind a song they used to
sing forty years ago : " All round my hat I wear a green
willow," and he sang a line or two of it to give Pavings the
tune. He- talked cheerfully until about eleven p.m., when his man
handed him his Bible and hymn-book, and left him for a little.
He returned for a few minutes. ".It is pleasant," said my
father, " to see your fat face. Good night. Schlafen Sie wohl."
About four o'clock in the morning his bell rang. Pavings
finding him coughing violently gave him some brandy, and
at Sir Gilbert's request prepared a poultice. While thus
engaged, my father said to him, " Your had better make up a.
bed on the sofa ; for if you leave me, you will find me gone in
the morning.'*' The instant the poultice was placed over the
region of the heart, my father called out, "Oh, it is come
again ! Lift me up." My brother John was summoned at
once, but my father never recovered consciousness, and died
some twenty minutes afterwards. A little before he died he
opened his eyes, and lifted them upwards, as though in prayer.
This was the last gesture he made : the eyelids fell, and after
a few heavy moans all was over.
He was interred on Saturday, the 6th of April, in West
minster Abbey. The Dean of Westminster, anticipating the ap
plication from Sir Gilbert's colleagues of the Institute of British
Architects, intimated to us immediately after my father's death
the wish that his body should be laid to rest within the walls of
the Abbey, by the grave of Sir Charles Barry, and beside the
great nave pulpit which he had himself designed.
The Abbey Church of Westminster was, "of all others, the
place in which, even apart from the honour of such a resting-
place, my father would have desired to be laid. Of all the
great churches of England with which he had been connected,
this was the one which he best loved. The works upon which
he was from time to time engaged about the Abbey, and the
investigation of its antiquities in their minutest detail, was to
him a source of unfailing delight. He one day remarked to
his valet, " When I get old and past work, I shall take a house
near the Abbey, so as to be able to attend the daily service
there, and to wander about the dear old place," and, he added,
"I think that I shall be very happy." But a still happier lot

382. Appendix,
was to be his. A kindly Providence spared him the sad con
sciousness of failing powers, the weariness of enfeebling old
age, and the slow misery of a lingering sickness. Too soon,
alas ! for those to whom he was most dear, but for himself, in
truest kindness, not too late, he was called away, and where he
had thought to wander as a worn-out old man he now lies at
rest, taken from us in the fulness of his powers, which years
had ripened to maturity, and age had not commenced to
wither. The coffin bore the following inscription : —
Georgii Gilberti Scott, equitis
viri probi architecti peritissimi
parentis optimi reliquia; hie
in fide Jesu Christi resurrectionem
expectant. Obiit xxvii0. die Martis
anno Salutis MDCCCLXXVIII". cetatis LXVIR
By order of Her Majesty, one of the royal carriages attended
the funeral procession. In the church the pall was borne by
Mr. A. B. Mitford, who represented the First Commissioner of
Works; Lord John Manners, M.P., the Postmaster-General;
Mr. R. Redgrave, R. A., representing the President of the Royal
Academy; Mr. Charles Barry, the President of the Royal
Institute of British Architects ; Mr. Frederic Ouvry, the Presi
dent of the Society of Antiquaries ; and Mr. A. J. B. Beresford
Hope, M.P., President of the Council of the Architectural
Museum. The Royal Academy, the- Institute of Architects,
the Society of Antiquaries, and the Council of the Architectural
Museum were further represented by numerous deputations, as
were also the Archaeological Institute, the London and Mid
dlesex Archaeological Society, the Ecclesiological Society, the
Architectural Association, the Turners' Company, of which
. Sir Gilbert was a member, and many other public bodies con
nected with art and learning. On the Sunday following the
interment, the Dean of Westminster preached in the Abbey
Church the funeral sermon, which by his kind permission is
reprinted in the following Appendix.
I am also happy to be permitted to close this story by an
extract from a lecture delivered before the Royal Academy in
January last, by Mr. Edward M. Barry, R.A., who succeeded
my father in the chair of architecture : —
" In Sir Gilbert Scott a great movement has lost a representa-

Appendix. 383
tive man, intent on the reproduction of the forms of old
English architecture. Few advocates of change, amounting
almost to revolution, have experienced as large an amount of
practical success, and he lived to see the Gothic revival, of
which he was a leader, to a great extent triumphant. Heartily
identified, however, as he was with the revival, Sir G. Scott
was not an artistic bigot. . He could spare some of his
; admiration for the architecture of Greece and Rome, of which
he expressed in his Academy lectures 'no stinted or cold-
hearted eulogy.' With the calmness of judgment which dis
tinguished him, he admitted that the Renaissance style had
many merits, and that it possessed at least one feature, the
dome — the noblest and ' most sublime ' achievement of archi
tecture-— which had found no abiding place in English mediaeval
art. His remarks on the internal treatment of this crowning
achievement of Renaissance architecture have a special interest
at the present time, when a renewed attempt is being made to
induce some of our best painters to devote themselves, to the
glorious task of decorating the dome of St. Paul's. Identifying
himself with the revival of the Gothic architecture of his own
country, Sir Gilbert Scott distrusted the introduction of prin
ciples of composition and details borrowed from abroad, and
thus remained, as he began, an essentially English architect.
The Albert Memorial in Hyde-park may be described as an
exception to Sir Gilbert Scott's usual practice in this respect.
At the commencement of the present century an age of no
architecture had supervened on the first classical revival of
Inigo Jones and Wren, and had brought us to what may be
called the Dismal Period : the era of Bloomsbury streets and
Batty Langley's gothic. When men demanded something
better, they were invited to choose between two renaissances
—the Classic, and the Gothic. Then arose the battle of the
styles, a conflict which cannot be said to be yet over, and
which, perhaps, may never be decided. Sir Gilbert Scott
adopted the latter, and became the principal, church, architect
of his day. The. Gothic revival was not, however, only, or
even chiefly, an architectural movement, being warmly sup
ported by the clergy, who rejoiced to see the national interest
awakened in its sacred buildings. Atonement was demanded
for past days of ecclesiastical carelessness, and the Cambridge
Camden Society arose, with its suggestive motto, ' Donee templa

384 Appendix.
refeceris? A great impetus was given to the new taste by the
erection of the Houses of Parliament in the Gothic style, and
by the labours- of Pugin and others in the education of work
men in the old mediaeval traditions. Sir Walter Scott had
previously paved the way by entrancing a nation (already, alas !
half forgetful of him) and turning their thoughts to the history,
customs, and architecture' of olden times. New Gothic
churches and other ecclesiastical edifices arose throughout the
country, and the cry for restoration increased in volume.
Cathedrals were repaired and thrown open to the people,
services were multiplied and rendered more attractive, and it
was found that our old buildings could once more be filled with
overflowing congregations. In the architectural part of this great
movement Sir Gilbert Scott occupied the foremost place. To
effect so great a change, enthusiasm is necessary, and when men
are much in earnest, enthusiasm may easily lead to extravagance.
So-called revivals are often difficult to distinguish from prac
tical innovations, and many a fierce theological conflict has been
waged over architectural details in our churches. Sir Gilbert
Scott was neither by taste nor temperament an innovator. In the
midst of controversy his works showed sobriety of design, and
moderation of judgment. The Tractarian movement and the
Gothic revival went, indeed, hand in hand; but he was too
earnest a champion to wish his cause to be identified with any
single party. Like many High Churchmen, he desired to
tread the ' via ?uedia,' very much as did the late Dean of Chi
chester ; so that Sir Gilbert Scott may almost be termed the Dr.
Hook of the Gothic revival. In the early stage of the latter, it
was by a design for the parish church at Camberwell, that the.
name of Scott attracted, notice, and at a subsequent period he
had the satisfaction of distancing all competitors at Hamburg,
thus winning for English architects conspicuous international
distinction. In his own country, he secured an amount of
employment scarcely paralleled in professional annals. In a
few years great changes had arisen in the public taste. A
time of architectural carelessness had been ' followed by an era
of activity, an age of neglect by an outburst of restoration.
Complaints have lately' been much urged against restorations ;
doubtless with truth in certain cases. Sir Gilbert Scott had too
much to do, to expect to escape criticism. An architect's deeds 1
are never hidden, and all can have their say upon them. Few, 1

Appendix. 38=5
however, have dwelt more than Sir Gilbert Scott on the necessity
of a conservative spirit of reverence for the past. In so doing,
' he carried out the teaching of his predecessors at the Royal
Academy, and particularly that of Professor Cockerell. In
regard to restorations, it should be remembered that architects
have serious responsibilities from which their critics are free
and however great may be their reverence for the past, they
must recognize the practical requirements of their own time.
Our old buildings must not be allowed to fall, while we are dis
cussing, as an abstract principle, the propriety of restoration.
Architects, nevertheless, should be jealous of unnecessary
change, and the . question is well dealt with in the following
\ sentence from one of the discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds : —
' Ancient monuments, having the right of possession, ought not
to be removed unless to make room for that which not only has
higher pretensions, but such pretensions as will balance the
evil and confusion which innovation always brings with it.'
The Gothic revival has now attained a respectable age, and we
may begin to inquire as to its results. It has apparently
settled the question that, for. the present at least, our ecclesias
tical architecture is to be Gothic. For secular buildings, no
such decision has been accepted. Important works are daily
carried out in both the rival styles, and there are not wanting
signs of an increasing feeling in favour of the classic Renaissance
or certain developements of it. Sir Gilbert Scott erected his most
important civic building, the Public Offices, in the latter style,
...although under protest, at the bidding of Lord Palmerston.
This was probably the greatest disappointment of a long and
successful career, and to be regarded as an episode only, as his
name will ever be indissolubly associated with the Gothic
. revival of the reign of Queen Victoria. His memory will live,
not only in stately cathedrals, but in many a lowly village, as
the great ecclesiastical architect of our time. Too learned to
be over-confident, he was ever a student, and conspicuous for
a modest and unassuming manner. Architect of his own
fortune, his mortal remains were fitly interred in that famous
Abbey which he loved so well— the national Campo Santo of
Westminster. His grave is side by side with that of Sir Charles
Barry, to whose place he succeeded in the Royal Academy on
the death of the latter in 1 S60. The career of Sir Gilbert Scott
was in some respects unique, and the exact circumstances of
c c

o

86 Appendix.

the revival, under which it was possible, can scarcely recur. It
may, however, supply encouragement to architectural students.
Great reputations are not indeed to be lightly won, or easily
supported; but every young student may at least determine
that the noble art of architecture shall not suffer in his hands
by any lack of devotion, hard work, and perseverance. All
may follow, though it may be at a distance, in the steps of the
great men who have passed before, and thus may endeavour to
deserve, if it be not given to them to achieve, success which may
compare with theirs."

APPENDIX B.

FUNERAL SERMON ON THE DEATH OF SIR GIL
BERT SCOTT, PREACHED IN WESTMINSTER
ABBEY, APRIL 6th, 1878,
By ARTHUR PENRHY3N. STANLEY, D.D.,
Dean of Westminster.
" I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the
Lord." — Psalm cxxii.
" The house of the Lord." It is an expression whicli we at
once recognize as figurative. " Behold the heaven of heavens
cannot contain Thee ; how much less this house that I haA'e
builded ! " So it was said even in the Jewish dispensation.
In the Christian dispensation it is still more strongly expressed
that the only fitting temple of the Most High is the sacred
human conscience, or the community of good men throughout
the world, or that vast unseen universe which is the true taber
nacle, greater and more perfect than any made by hands.
Nevertheless, like all familiar metaphors, the expression " the
house of God " has a deep root in the human heart and mind.
Our idea of the invisible almost inevitably makes for itself a
shell or husk from visible things. This is the germ of religious
architecture. This is the reason why the most splendid build
ings in the world have been temples or churches. This is the
reason why even the most spiritual, even the most Puritanical,
religion clothes itself with the drapery not only of words, and-
sounds, and pictures, but of wood, and stone, and marbla A
Friends' meeting-house is as really a house of God, and there
fore as decisive a testimony to the sacredness of architecture,
C C 2

3 88 Appendix.
as the most magnificent cathedral. The barbaric artificers of
the rude tabernacle in the deceit were as really inspired in
their rude manner as the Tyrian architects of the temple of
Solomon. Who is there that does not feel a glow of enthu
siasm, when coming back after long absence, it may be like
him who addresses you to-day, long illnesss, he finds himself
once more in the old familiar, venerable sanctuary, which has
become the home of his affection, the outward and visible sign
of his country's and of his own hopes and duties? Who is
there that, having grown with the growth and strengthened
with the strength of an institution like this, does not feel that
it is part of himself— that its honour or dishonour is his own
glory or his own shame? That Avhich a sentiment usually
ascribed to the witty Canon ! of a neighbouring cathedral, with
singular humour, treated as an impossibility, is in fact the sim
ple truth. We who live under the hull or framework, the
vaults or the dome of a building like Westminster Abbey or
St. Paul's, are conscious of a thrill of satisfaction when the hand
of an approving public is placed on our outward shell ; a
thrill which penetrates to our inmost souls, because we within,
and that superh shell without, constitute but one and the same
living creature. It is the consciousness of this intimate con
nexion between the spiritual and the material temple, between
the grandeur of religion and the grandeur of its outward habi
tation, which gives a living interest to the thought which I
Avould this day bring before you — the religious aspect of the
noble science and art of the architect. We yesterday laid
within these Avails the most famous builder of this generation.
Others may have soared to loftier flights, or produced special
works of more commanding power ; hut no name within the
last thirty years has been so widely impressed on the edifices of
Great Britain, past and present, as that of Gilbert Scott From
the humble but graceful cross, which commemorates at Oxford
the sacrifice of the three martyrs of the English Reformation,
1 It is told of Sydney Smith that he once said to a child who thought
that it was pleasing a tortoise hy stroking the shell, "Yow might as well
hope to please the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul's by patting the dome."
("Memoirs of Sydney Smith," vol. i. 324.) It would seem, however, that
the story had an earlier origin. The remark was made, at least in the first
instance or simultaneously, by the present Sir Frederick Pollock to his
brother.

Appendix. 389
to the splendid memorial of the prince who devoted his life to
the service of his Queen and country ; from the Presbyterian
University on the banks of the Clyde, to the college chapels on
the banks of the Isis and the Cam ; from the proudest minster
to the most retired parish church; from India to Newfoundland
— the trace has been left of the loving eye and skilful kind that
are now so cold in death. Truly was it said by one, who from
the distant shores of a foreign land rendered yesterday his sorrow
ing tribute of respect, that in nearly all the cathedrals of Eng
land there must have been a shock of grief when the tidings
came of the sudden stroke which had parted them from him,
who was to "them as their own familiar friend and foster-father.
Canterbury, Ely, Exeter, Worcester, Peterborough, Salisbury,
Hereford, Lichfield, Ripon, Gloucester, Manchester, Chester,
Rochester, Oxford, Bangor, St. Asaph, St David's, Windsor, St.
Alban's, Tewkesbury, and last, not least, our own Westminster,
in which he took most delight of all buildings in all die world,
are the silent mourners round the grave of him who loved their
very stones and dnst, and knew them to their very heart's core.
But it is good on these occasions to rise above the personal
feelings of the moment into those more general lessons which
his career suggests.
I. It was the singular fortune of that career that it coincided
with one of the most remarkable revolutions of taste that the
world has witnessed. That peculiar conception of architectural
beauty which our ancestors in blame, and not in praise, called
Gothic, was altogether unknown to Pagan or Christian anti
quity. It was unknown alike to the builders of the Pyramids
and the Parthenon, to the builders of the .Roman Basilica, or
the Byzantine St. Sophia. Bom partly of Saracenic, partly of
German parentage, it gradually won its way to perfection by the
mysterious instinct which breathed through Europe in the
Middle Ages. It flourished for four centuries, and then died
as completely as if it had never existed. Another style took
its place. By Catholic and Protestant it was alike repudiated.
By the hands of English or Scottish prelates, no less than by
English or Scottish Reformers, its traces wherever possible were
obliterated. Here and there a momentary thrill of admiration
was rekindled by the bigh-embowed roof, or by the stately pU
lars of our ancient churches, as in the " Penseroso " of Milton,
or as in tiie " Mourning Bride" of Congreve. Bot as a general

390 Appendix.
rule it was regarded as a lost art — and our poets of the six
teenth century make no more allusion to it than if they had
been born and bred in the new world of America.
" Look through the popular writers of the sixteenth century, the uncon
scious exponents of the sentiments of the age that followed the Reformation j
examine the writings of Spenser, for instance, and Shakespere, the many-
sided, to whom all the tones ' of thought of all ages seem to have been
revealed and familiarized ; of Chapman and Marlow and the rest, and I
question whether you will find a line or a word in any one of them indicat
ing the slightest sympathy with the zesthetics of ecclesiastical architecture,
which exercise auch a fascination over ourselves. Not one line, not one
word, I believe, of the charms of cloistered arcades and fretted roofs, and
painted windows, and the dim religious light of the pensive poets of our
later ages. No wail of despair, no murmur of dissatisfaction reaches us
from the generation that witnessed the dire eclipse, in which the labour of
so many ages of, artistic refinement became involved. Their children have
betrayed to us no remembrance of the stifled sorrows of their fathers. As
far as regards its taste for ecclesiastical monuments, the literature of Eliza
beth might hsvve been the production of the rude colonists of the Antilles or
of Virginia." 2
Here and there an antiquarian, like Gostling at Canterbury
or Carter at Westminster, allowed the genius of the place to
overpower the tendencies of the age. And if a protest came
at last against the indiscriminate disparagement of medieval
art from Horace Walpole, it was more in deference to his rank
than from conversion to his sentiments, that the authorities in
church and state consented to preserve what else they would
have doomed to destruction. At last, in the first half of this
century, a new eye was given to the mind of man. Gradually,
imperfectly, through various channels — in this country chiefly
through the minute observations of a Quaker student — the
visions of the strange past rose before a newly awakened
Avorld. The glory and the grace of our soaring arches, of our
stained windows, of our recumbent effigies, were revealed, as
they had been to no mortal eyes since the time of their erec
tion. To imitate, to preserve this ancient style in its remark
able beauty was the inevitable consequence, we might say the
overwhelming temptation, of this new discovery. The hour
was come when the ecclesiastical architecture of the past was
to be roused from its long slumber, and with the hour came
the man. We do not forget that splendid if eccentric genius
2 Sermon preached on the Founder's Day, at Harrow, October 10, 1872,
by Charles Merivale, D.D., Dean of Ely.

Ap/emiix. 39 1
who gave himself, though not with undivided love, to the
service of another communion. We cannot but remember the
gifted architect who raised the stately halls aud the command
ing towers of the palace of the imperial legislature, and who
was laid long years ago— in fit proximity to his own great
works— within these walls, and Avhere he has now been followed
by him of whom I now would speak. For there was one who,
if younger in the race, and at the time less conspicuous than
either of them, was destined to exercise over the growth of
Gothic architecture in this country a yet more enduring and
extensive influence.
When in this Abbey the first note of that revival was struck
by the erection of Bernasconi's plaster canopies in the place of
the classic altar-piece given by Queen Anne,* a boy of fourteen
years old was in the church watching the demolition and the
reconstruction with a curious vigilance, which from that time
never flagged for fifty years. That was the earliest reminis
cence which Gilbert Scott retained of Westminster Abbey :
that was the first inspiration of die Gothic revival which swept
away before its onward progress not only the plaster reredos
of this Abbey, but a thousand other crudities of the same im
perfect period. He impersonated the taste of the age. Anti
quarian no less than builder, lie became to those fossils of
medieval architecture what Cuvier and Owen have been to the
fossils of the earlier world of nature. It maybe that others
will succeed on whom the marvellous bounty of Providence
shall bestow other gifts of other kinds. But meanwhile we
bless God for what we have had in our departed friend and
his fellow-workers. The recovery, die second birth, of Gothic
architecture, is a striking proof that the human mind is not
dead, nor die creative power of our Maker slackened. We
bless alike the power which breamed this inspiration into die
men of ofcl, and which even from their dry bones has breathed
it once again into the men of these latter days.
U. But it is not enough that a great gift should be resus
citated or a great stjte imitated. We must ask wherein its
greatness consisted, and in what rotation it stood to the other
gifts of the Creator. There are many characteristics of die
medieval architecture, as of the mediaeval mind, which have
* "MeoMKbls of Westminster Abk-qr,"* p.$3&.

392 Appendix.
totally perished, or which ought never to be revived, which
represent ideas that for our time have lo.st all significance, and
purposes which are doomed to extinction, The Middle Ages
have 'eft on the intellect of Europe few, very few, enduring
traces. Their chronicles are but the quarries of later historians :
their schoolmen are but the extinct species of a dead theology.
Two great poems and one book of devotion are all which that
long period has bequeathed to the universal literature of man
kind. But their architecture still remains
Of equal date
With Andes and with Ararat,4
and the reason of this continuance or revival is this, that in its
essential features it represented those aspirations of religion
which are eternal. As in mediaeval Christianity there were
elements which belonged to the undeveloped Protestantism of
the Western churches, so also in mediaeval architecture there
are elements which belong to the churches of the Reformation
as well as to the churches of the Papal system. Its massive
solidity, its aspiring height, its infinite space, these belong not to
the tawdry, trivial, minute, material side of religion, but to its
sobriety, its grandeur, its breadth, its sublimity. And therefore
it was that when this revival of Gothic architecture took place,
it was amongst the Protestant churches of England, rather than
in the Catholic churches of the continent, that its first growth
struck root. The religious power of our great cathedrals has,
as has been well remarked,5 not lost, but gained, in proportion
as our worship has become more solemn, more simple, more
reverential, more comprehensive. There is a cloud of super
stition doubtless which, with the latter half of the nineteenth
century, has settled down over a large part of the ecclesiastical
world j but the last places which it will reach will be the
magnificent architectural monuments which defy the introduc
tion of trivial and mean decorations, or, if introduced, condemn
them for their evident incongruity with other . portions of the-
buildings. The great antiquaries, the" great architects of this.
century, are but too well acquainted with the differences
between the loftier and the baser aspects, between the golden
and the copper sides of their noble art, to allow it to become
4 Emerson.
5 Dean Milman's "History of Latin Christianity," vol. vi. p. 91.

Appendix. 393
the handmaid of a sect or party, or the instrument of a senseless
proselytism. And this leads me to one more point of the marvellous
revival of which he who lies in yonder grave was the pioneer
and champion. For the first, or almost for the first time in
the history of the world, the architecture of the nineteenth
century betook itself, not to the creation of a new style, but to
the preservation and imitation of an older style. With perhaps
one exception,6 every age and country down to our own has
set its face towards superseding the works of its predecessors,
by erecting its own work in their place. The Normans over
threw the old Romanesque churches of the Saxons. Henry
III. in this place " totally swept away, as of no value what
ever," the noble abbey of the Confessor. Henry VIL built
his stately chapel in marked contrast to all the other portions
of this building. The great architects of the cathedrals of
St. Peter at Rome, and St. Paul in London, adopted a style
varying as widely from the mediaeval, which they despised, as
from the Grecian, which they admired. But now, in our own
time, the whole genius of the age threw all its energies into
the reproduction of what had been, rather than into the pro
duction of what was to be. No doubt it may be said that
there is in the original genius which creates something more
stimulating and inspiring. .. Yet still the very eagerness of re
production is itself an original inspiration, and there is in it
also a peculiar grace which, to the illustrious departed, was
singularly congenial. If one had sought for a man to carry
out this awe-striking retrospect through the great works of old,
to gather up the fragments of perishing .antiquity, it would
have been one whose inborn modesty used to call the colour
into his face at every word of praise — whose reverential attitude
led him instinctively to understand and to admire. And yet
in him this very tendency, especially in his maturer age, took
so large and generous a sweep as to counteract the excesses
into which, in minds less expansive and less vigorous, it is
sure to fall. Because the bent of his own character and of his
own time led chiefly to the restoration of medieval art, he was
• The continuance of the Pbaraonic style in Egypt by the Ptolemaic
princes and Roman emperors. There are also a few rare . examples in
Medieval Architecture, such as the completion of the nave in Westminster
Abbey.

394 Appendix.
not on that account insensible to the merits of the ages which
had gone before, or which had succeeded. With that narrow
and exclusive pedantry which would fain sweep out from this
and other like buildings all the monuments and memorials
of the three last centuries, he had little or no sympathy. He
regarded them as footprints of the onward march of English
history, and whilst, with a natural regret for the inroads which
here and there they had made into the earlier glories of the
Plantagenet and Tudor architecture — and whilst willing to
prune their disproportionate encroachments, he cherished their
associations as tenderly as though they had been his own
creations ; and he would bestow his meed of admiration as
freely on the modern memorial of Isaac Watts as on the
antique effigy of a crusading prince or of a Benedictine abbot.
It was this loving, yet comprehensive care for all the hetero
geneous elements of the past, this anxious, unselfish attention
to all their multifarious details, which made him so wise a
counsellor, so delightful a companion, in the great work of the
reparation, the conservation, the glorification of this building,
which, amidst his absorbing and ubiquitous duties, it is not
too much to say was his first love, his chief, his last, his
enduring interest.
Such is the loss which the whole church and country de
plore, but which we of this place mourn most of all. We
cannot forget him. Roof and wall, chapter-house and
cloister, the tombs of the dead and the worship of the living,
all speak of him to those who know that his hand and
his eye were everywhere amongst us. But these very
trophies of what he did for us must render us more alive
to do what we can for him. His memory must stimulate
us who remain to carry on with unabated zeal those works
in which he took so deep a concern : the completion of
the chapter-house by its long-delayed and long-promised win
dows of stained glass ; the northern porch, which he desired
above all things to see restored to its pristine beauty; the
new cloister, which he had planned in all its completeness
as the link for another thousand years between the illustrious
dead of the generations of the past, and those of the genera
tions of the future. So long as these remain unfinished, his
grave will continue to reproach us. When they shall be accom
plished, they will be amongst the noblest monuments of him

Appendix. 39^
whose ambition for his glorious art was so far-reaching, and
whose requirements of what was dne to this national sanc
tuary were so exacting.
But there is yet a more sacred and solemn thought which
attaches to the immediate remembrance of so faithful a
servant of this State of England, of so honoured a friend of
this church of Westminster.
It has been sometimes said that it was by a strange irony of
fete that the great leader in the revival of mediaeval archi
tecture should have been die grandson of that venerable com
mentator who belonged to the revival of evangelical religion.
Yet in feet, from another point of view, it was a fitting con
tinuity. It is always useful to be reminded that the revival, or,
as we may better put it, the increase, of sincere TCnglish re
ligion, belongs to a generation and a tendency long anterior
to the multiplication of those external signs and symbols of
which our age has made so much; and in die deep sense of
that inward religion, that simple faith in the Great Unseen,
the grandson who multiplied and disclosed the secrets of the
visible sanctuaries of God throughout the land, was not an
unworthy descendant of the grandfather who endeavoured,
according to the light of his time, to draw forth the mysteries
of the Book of books. We in this place, who knew bim and
valued him, who leant upon him as a tower of strength in our
difficulties, who honoured his indefatigable industry, his child
like humility, his unvarying courtesy, his noble candour, we
who remember with gratitude his generous encouragement of
the students of the rising generation, and who know how he
loved and valued tiie best that we also have loved and
valued, we all feel that in bim we have lost one of those
just, gentle^ guileless souls who in their lives have lifted,
and in their memories may still lift, our souls upwards.
And when we speak of the work which such 2 career
bequeaths to those that remain, let us remember that al
though, as we said at the beginning of this discourse, tiie
shell, the framework, of a peat building like this, is an
inestimable gift of God, its creation and preservation one
of the noblest functions of human genius and national en
terprise, yet on us who dwell within it, to whose charge it is
committed, depends in no slight manner its continuance for
the future, its glory and its usefulness 6k- tiie present There

396 Appendix.
are some eager spirits of our time, in whom the noble passion
for reform and improvement has been stifled and suspended
by the ignoble passion for destruction, who have openly avowed
their desire to suppress all the expressions of worship or of
teaching within this or like . edifices, and keep them only
as dead memorials- of the past— better silent with the solitude
of Tintern or of Melrose, than thronged with vast congre
gations, or resounding with the music of the Psalmist, or the
voice of the preacher. It is for us so to fulfil our several
duties, so to people this noble sanctuary with living deeds, and
words of goodness and of wisdom, that such dreams of the
destroyer may find no place to enter, no shelter or excuse from
our neglect, or ignorance, or folly. The grave of our great
architect is close beside the pulpit, which he erected to com
memorate the earliest establishment of services and of sermons
in the nave, which for the first time were then set on foot by
my predecessor, and which have since spread throughout the
whole country. That reminds us of the kind of support which
we, the guardians and occupants of abbeys and cathedrals, can
give even to their outward fabric. It has been well said by a
gifted author, who, if any of his time, has been devoted to the
passionate love of art, that in the day of trial it will be said
even in those, magnificent buildings, not " See what manner of
stones are here," but " See what manner of men." ' Clergy,
lay-clerks, choristers, teachers, scholars, vergers, guides, alms
men, workmen— yes, and all you who frequent this church—
every one of us may have it in our power to support it, by our
reverence and devotion, by our eagerness to profit by what we
hear, by our sincere wish to give the best that we can in teach
ing and preaching, by our honest and careful fulfilment of the
duties of each day's work, by our scrupulous care to avoid all
that can give needless annoyance or offence, by our constancy
and belief, by our rising above all paltry disputes and all vulgar
vices. In the presence of this great institution of which we
are all members, and in the presence of the Most High God,
whom it recalls to our thoughts, and in whose presence we are,
equally within its walls and without them — every, one of us has
it in his power to increase the glory, to strengthen the stability,
to insure the perpetuity of this abbey. That is the best memo-
' Ruskin's "Lectures on Art," 118.

Appendix. 397
rial we can raise, that is the best service we can render, to all
those, dead or living, who have loved, or who still love, this
holy and beautiful house, wherein our fathers worshipped in
the generations of the past, and wherein, if we be but true to
its glorious mission, our children and our children's children
shall worship. in the generations that are yet to come.

APPENDIX C.

REPLY BY SIR GILBERT SCOTT, R.A, TO MR. J. J.
STEVENSON'S PAPER ON "ARCHITECTURAL
RESTORATION : ITS PRINCIPLES AND PRAC
TICE."
(Read at a Meeting of the Institute of British Architects, 28th May, 1877.)
Gentlemen,— I have to apologize for again addressing you,
after having spoken once on the subject of Mr. Stevenson's
Paper j but, on consideration of that Paper, and having ob
served from what was said by several speakers that it was
viewed by them as being especially directed against myself, I
have thought it right to crave your kind indulgence in not rest-
ing satisfied with what I said' on the spur of the moment, and
in reading a written comment on the Paper.
Why I — who have laid myself out to protest against the
havoc which has been made through the length and breadth
of the land under the name of Restoration — should be singled
out as the special butt of this yet stronger protest, it is not easy
to say. In accepting this challenge, I may claim a somewhat
back-handed compliment. When Napoleon III. was told that
a prophetic authority had pronounced him to be Anti-Christ,
he replied, "He does me too much honour /" Much the same is
the honour intended to be conferred on me. Yet — be it
honour or affront — I feel it incumbent on me, as its selected
recipient, to state carefully how far I agree and how far I
differ from the sentiments expressed in that Paper, and the
more especially as — -whether formally or not — it is actually the
manifesto of the Society recently formed for the prevention of
restoration. It is but fair, at the outset, to say candidly that there has

Appendix. 399
been every possible provocation to the line taken by this new
Society ; and that — up to a certain point — I heartily sympa
thize with their views. I wish this to be thoroughly understood .
or, while only finding fault with the views promulgated by the
Society on the ground of exaggeration and unfairness, I may be
supposed to be taking a side in the argument wholly at variance
with my own known sentiments. No over-statement on their
part, no personal accusations against myself, will, I trust, for
a moment betray me into disloyalty to the side which I have
for years advocated, or into ceasing to protest against the
course of vandalism, which has justly made the very word
" Restoration " a by-word and a reproach, and which has robbed
England of a large portion of her antiquities. So far, then, from
objecting to the general aim of Mr. Stevenson's Paper, if
purged from certain excesses and over-statements, I will at once
say that a very large number of the sentiments and remarks
contained in it are simply reiterations of those which I
have, for not less than thirty-six years, expressed; though so
exaggerated, and pressed to such an extreme, as greatly to
destroy their practical value, and then adroitly turned against
myself and those who have similarly protested. This is no
doubt a somewhat annoying form of warfare, but others have
had to bear it before us; William Wilberforce lived to be
viewed by his over-ardent disciples as the great clog in the way
of negro emancipation, and Wilkes was constrained to proclaim
himself to be no Wilkesite ; and so it is a mere truism to say
that, although I have protested against unfaithful and overdone
and ignorant restoration, I have myself largely transgressed
what Mr. Stevenson enunciates as the correct view — i.e., that
there should be no restoration at all.
I have myself (as he quotes me) said I could wish the name
were expunged and "reparation" substituted: but, whether
called by one name or the other, it is clear that I should have
been wasting my breath in attempting to suggest rules and limi
tations, if no such thing at all were to be permitted ! I there
fore at once admit that, notwithstanding all my outciy against
bad restoration, I have somewhat largely infringed the new rule
which forbids any restoration, good, bad, or indifferent. I will
now, at the risk of egotism, show by a few extracts from my own
poor writings what have been my sentiments at different periods
of my professional life.

400 Appendix.
In a letter written to Mr. Petit in 1841, I said, —
" It has often struck me that, viewing an ancient edifice as a national
monument, as an original work, of the great artists from whom we learn all
we can know of Christian architecture, and as a work which when once
restored, however carefully, is to a certain extent lost as an authentic exam
ple, it is hardly right that the fate of such a building should be left wholly
to the local committee or their architects, but that it would be well if they
could call in to their aid two or three non-professional and disinterested
parties, well known to understand the subject," who, on hearing arguments,
&c, would " be able to give such opinion as would set all questions at real,
and would ensure our doing justice to the subscribers and the public."
Again —
" I do not wish to lay it down as a general rule that good taste requires
that every alteration which from age to age has been made in our churches
should be obliterated, and the whole reduced to its ancient uniformity of
style. These varieties are indeed most valuable, as being the standing his
tory of the edifice, from which the date of every alteration and repair may
be read as clearly as if it had been verbally recorded j and in many cases
the later additions are as valuable specimens of architecture as the remains
of the original structure, and merit an equally careful preservation, I even
think that if our churches were to be viewed, like the ruins of Greece and
Rome, only as original monuments from which ancient architecture is to-be
studied, they would be more valuable in their present condition, however
mutilated and decayed, than with any, even the slightest degree of restora
tion, But taking the more correct view of a church as a building erected
for the glory of God and the use of Man (and which must therefore be kept
in a proper state of repair), and finding it in such a state of dilapidation that
the earlier and later parts — the authentic. and the spurious— are alike decayed
and all require renovation to render the edifice suitable to its purposes, I
think we are then at liberty to exercise our best judgment upon the sub
ject, and if the original parts are found to be 'precious ' and the late inser
tions to be ' vile/ I think we should be quite right in giving perpetuity to
to the one, and in removing the other. As, however, an erroneous judg
ment might lead to unfortunate results, this is just one of those points on
which the opinion of a kind of Antiquarian Commission might advan-
tageously be taken,"
Again —
"I hare long and most painfully felt that the modern system of radical
restoration is doing more towards the destruction of ancient art than the
ravings of fanaticism, or the follies of churchwardens have succeeded in
effecting. The .existence and authenticity of these invaluable relics is
invaded on both sides : on the one by neglect, mutilation, and wanton
destruction ; and on the other, by the extreme to which well-meant restora
tions are too frequently carried."
It is difficult to say from which side the greatest danger is to
be apprehended, but between the two I feel convinced that

Appendix. 401
greater havoc has been made among sacred edifices in our own
time — boasting as we do of a revived taste for their beauties —
than they had experienced from three centuries of contemp
tuous neglect It is desirable for the sake of guarding against
both these sources of danger, that those who have a true feeling
for the subject should endeavour to come to an understanding
among themselves, and to compare their own views ; so that
their differences of opinion may not be taken advantage of by
those who are glad of any excuse for withholding their
contributions, or those, on the other hand, whose love of
change is equally on the watch for an opportunity of in
dulging itself. With this object I have, used my humble
endeavours " to show the necessity for some such ordeal as I
proposed." For, " while acknowledging the dangers to which
others are exposed, we are too apt to fancy that we are ourselves
individual exceptions."
In 1848 I wrote a Paper on "The Faithful . Restoration
of Ancient Churches," in which I entered an earnest protest.
against Radical Restoration, and urged the most Conservative
treatment, winding up with a quotation from a poetical friend
of Mr. Petit's— " It were a pious work, I hear you say,
To prop the falling ruin and to stay
The work of desolation. It may be
That ye say right ; but, Ol ¦work tenderly !
Beware lest one worn feature ye efface ;
Seek not to add one touch of modem grace ;
Handle with reverence each crumbling stone,
Respect the very lichens o'er it grown ;
And bid each ancient monument to stand
Supported e'en as with a filial hand.
Mid all the light a happier age has brought,
We work not yet as our forefathers wrought"
While this Paper was in the press, two years later, Mr.
Ruskin's "Seven Lamps of Architecture" came into my
hands. On his condemnation of all restoration (a notion which, as
you see, I had anticipated and answered eight or nine years
earlier), I added in a note as follows : —
" Were our old churches to be viewed merely as monuments of the archi
tecture of bygone days, I confess that I should cordially agree with him ;
for who would dream of restoring the sculptures of the Parthenon, or the
D d

402 JLppotdix.
hieroglyph";^ of Thebes? Again, were it possible by present case to nul
lify the effects of pair r.eglect, 1 would heartily faU in with his advice. 1
would 'watch an oil b-jildfag with an anxious care.* I would "guani it
as best T might, and a: any cost, fawn the influence of dilapidation.* I
vonld * count its stones as yea weald the jewels of a crown-; set watches
about it as if at the gates of a besieged city ; bind it together with ison
where it loosens ; stay it with timber when it declines,' or do anything and
everything I could to preserve it from the influences of time or the hand of
the spoliator. B-.«_ alas I the damage is already effected ; the neglect of
cer.t-cries and the spoilers hand has alreadydone its work ; and the building
being something more than .2. monument of memory, being a temple dedicated
— so long as the world shall last — to the worship and honour of the world's
Creator, it is a matter of duty, as it is of necessity, that its dilapidations and
its injuries shall be repaired ; though Ivtter were it to leave them untouched
for another generation than commit them to irreverent hands, which seek
only the memory of their own cunning while professing to think upon the
stones, and lake pity upon the dust of Sion."
. "Yon ancient wall —
Better to see it tottering to its fall
Than decked in new attire with lavish cost,
Form, dignity, proportion, grace, all lost ! "
In 1S63 I read my Paper before this Institute from which
Mr. Stevenson has largely quoted, and, he will forgive my saying,
the spirit of which he has most ingeniously misinterpreted. Of
this I will only say, Read it and judge for yourselves.
In my inaugural address as President of this Institute in
1S73, after some remarks on the marvellous inequality in merit
and demerit of the architecture of our own day as compared
with its uniformity of merit in previous ages, I add : —
"There is, however, a yet sadder inequality to be recorded— sadder
because irreparable in the injury inflicted. The million ugly houses, or
even the majority of them, may go to decay, or be rebuilt ; but a single
ancient edifice destroyed or ruined by ignorant * tvstira.im,' can never be
recovered. It is unquestionable that the ancient structures, from the study
of which a knowledge of our mediseval styles has been resuscitated, had
suffered for the most part so severely from neglect, ill-usage, and decay,
as to demand the aid of a loving aud careful restoration ; and this they
have happily, in very many instances, received. The knowledge and skill
of our neo-mediseval architects has often been devoted with admirable
success to this grateful work, and from among the restorations of ancient
buildings may be instanced many of the most happy results of the Gothic
revival. But here, again, the unhappy diversity I have alluded to, as
existing in new works, is found to exist in its most aggravated form. Our
old buildings too often — nay, in a majority, I fear, of cases — fall into the
hands of men who have neither knowledge nor respect for them, while,
even amongst those, who possess the requisite knowledge, there has too
often existed a lack of veneration,, a disposition to sit in judgment ou the

Appendix. 403
works of their teachers, a rage for alteration to suit some system to which
they had pledged themselves in their own works, and even the pre
posterous idea that the ancient examples they were called upon to repair
were a fitting field for the display of their own originality.
"Nov have the official guardians of our ancient buildings exercised much
restraint upon these vagaries t on the contrary, they have too often been
most culpably careless as to the hands to which they have committed their
trust, and are usually the inciters to ignorant tampering, the needless
removal of valuable features, and even the condemnation and destruction
of the buildings under their charge. The result has been truly disastrous ;
so much so that our country has actually been robbed of a large proportion
of its antiquities under the name of ' restoration j* and the work of destruc
tion and spoliation still goes on merrily ; while at the public festivities by
which each anto-da-ft is celebrated, Ave find ecclesiastical dignitaries,
clergy, squires, and architects congratulating one another on the success
of the latest effort of Vandalism. Oar Institute has done itself infinite
honour by appointing a standing committee to investigate and protest, and
by publishing a code of excellent suggestions as to the mode of dealing
with ancient remains ; but still the work goes on, and the equivocal
motto of the JSethtfotegitt—' Doim Tern/la n>/*c*m '—seems likely to
prove well-nigh the death-knell of our ecclesiastical antiquities."
In my second opening address in 1S74, the same subject
was brought forward by Mr. Ruskin's refusal of the Gold Medal,
on the ground of the prevalence of destructive restoration. On
this I offered the following remarks : —
" Now, all this may be viewed from two very different points. We
may, on the one hand, very fairly protest against the injustice of being
maiic in any degree responsible for acts in which we have had no hand,
over which \\-e had no control, and against which we should protest as
loudly as Mr. Ruskin : but, on the other hand, we, being the incorporated
representatives of architectural practice, may, in a certain sense, be held
to represent its vices as well as its virtues, and in the eyes of a self-
constituted censor, and one who from his' first appearance before the public
lias devoted himself wholly to protest and warning, we* can hardly 'wonder
that, if he holds us thus responsible, he should not think it a time for us
to be playing at compliments with our censor.
"Read for a moment his expressions of righteous indignation uttered
nearly a quarter of a century back, and imagine what must be his feelings
wherever he directs his steps. If he travels in France, he finds restoration
so rampant that nothing which shows much of the hand of time is con
sidered worthy of continued existence, but must be re-worked or renewed,
cleverly, artistically, and learnedly perhaps, but nevertheless as new work
taking the place of the old, or old work re-tooled till scarce a
vestige of the surface on which the old men wrought so lovingly is
allowed to remain. If he goes into Italy, much the same meets his eye.
In his own Venice the Fondaco ttei Turchi, the most venerable secular
%«mtine work, is rebuilt. At Rome he would observe an area of some
half a square mile excavated and carted away, which contained— dis-
covered only to be in great measure destroyed— the ancient wall of Servius

404 Appendix.
TuUius, twelve feet thick, of solid masonry, and against it a second
Pompeii of antique Roman houses, hardly explored,. but merely disinterred
and carted away as rubbish. At Assisi he would find the works of Cimabue
and Giotto in the hands of the restorer, though, as I trust, with better
promise. In Belgium he would find ancient buildings chipped over and
made to look like new ; or, as is the case with the wonderful church of the
Dominicans, at Ghent, deliberately destroyed. And is the case much
better in our own country ? Has not the hand of a false and destructive
restoration swept like a plague over the length and breadth of our land,
and are not those churches which have been treated with veneration and
care a mere gleaning among those which have been dealt with in careless
ignorance of any value to be attached to them ? To Mr. Ruskin's eye the
best of our restorations are mere vandalisms, for he protests against them
root and branch ; and to him all the difficulties and disappointments met
with in carrying them out would be only so many reasons for reproaching
us for having undertaken them at all. Anyhow, he would find in England
far more than one half of our ancient churches to have been so dealt with
by ignorant and sacrilegious hands that one is ready to curse the day when
the then youthful Cambridge Camden Society, all too sanguine and ardent,
adopted for their motto the ominous words so sadly realized, 'Donee
Templa refeceris.' But restoration has not laboured alone in the work
of Vandalism : deliberate destruction has been rife amongst us. Has not
one great cathedral body deliberately pulled down its ancient hospital hall
of the fourteenth century, and another its stupendous tythe barn of the
thirteenth? Near another cathedral, where the episcopal palace is formed
out of a vast Norman hall (the sole remaining instance of a hall of that
age supported by original timber pillars and arcades), I have only just
now seen some of these timber arches lying as old material in a builder's
yard, having been turned out, I fear under the eye of a Fellow of this
Institute, for the purpose, to use Mr. Ruskin's own words, of ' temporary
convenience.' "
In my third annual address in 1875, 1 was dwelling especially
on a duty that I would commend to the Society which Mr.
Stevenson represents — the duty of making, and preserving
accurate drawings of perishing architectural remains — and, I
added : —
" We, as an Institute, do a great deal by means of the competition for
our Pugin Studentship (which usually take the form of measured drawings
of some of these perishing art treasures), but we should aim at, and strive
after, some more systematic method of dealing with this most urgently
pressing object. I know many remains whose details every time I visit
them, seem to get dimmer and dimmer, from the yearly falling away of
their surfaces in impalpable dust, and which another generation will find
utterly unintelligible. Such is the case with the remains which surround
the cloister court of Fountains Abbey ; such, too, is the case with that
invaluable remnant the sanctuary of Tynemouth Priory, with its ac
companying fragments, perhaps unequalled in their architecture by any
cotemporary building in England ; such is the case in a still more dis
tressing degree with Kelso Abbey, and such is the destined fate, sooner or

Appendix. 405
later, of most of the ruined structures which remain throughout our land..
as proofs at once of the glorious art of our forefathers and our own heed
lessness. We need not suppose that the admission that this duty, is
incumbent on ourselves involves the consequence that the cost must
necessarily fall upon us. There can be no doubt; that if we take the
initiative, funds will be supplied by the very many- who take an intelligent
and zealous interest in the subject ; but, if we hold our peace, who ought
to be the first to speak, how can we expect others to bestir themselves ?
" When we come to buildings still in use, and especially to churches,
we have a truly mournful and disgraceful scene presented to us.
"Our churches had, during the three centuries between the extinction
and the revival of Gothic architecture, for the most part been allowed to
fall, step by step, into a state of sordid and contemptuous neglect, decay,
and dilapidation ; while they become encumbered with galleries, pews, and
all manner of incongruous interpolations : — nothing being, in many cases,
considered too mean in character for an old Gothic church. . People
became conscious of this before our architects became fitted to correct
it; and, like. Jack, in Swift's 'Tale of a Tub,' set about ridding their
churches of disfigurements before they knew what to substitute for them,
and, with every blemish which they removed, tore off some fragment of the
original fabric, and mended the tear with work of their own, if not quite as
incongruous, certainly far more nauseating. Soon, however, they got to
think they knew all about the matter ; and boldly set about restorations,
as if' the old art had been beyond question revived. They even disputed
among themselves as to whether restorations should be ' conservative,
destructive or eclectic;' great authorities not being wanting to defend even
the destructive system.
1 Meanwhile, — even with those best disposed,— knowledge was imperfect,
and the difficulties of careful and well-considered treatment immense.
The promoters of the work were. more, impressed, perhaps, with the
axiom of the first church restorers— that the house of God ought not
to be less carefully dealt with than our own houses> than with the
equally indisputable fact that they had a treasure of ancient art and
of ancient church history to deal with, which demanded the most
earnest study for its conservation. Walls and roofs were found decayed,
and their entire renewal was urged ; changes in ourjritual, it was argued,
demanded corresponding changes in arrangement ; clerks of the works,
builders and workmen vied with each other in opposing conservative
measures ; and — fight as they would — all kinds of influences continued, in
addition to their own shortcomings, to check or frustrate the efforts of
. conservative architects, so that the result was, at the best, a mixture of
successes with failures, of right decision with compromise.
" This has now been going on for years, so far as concerns the best
among us, but many well-meaning restorers, from imperfect knowledge
and want of firmness, come yet worse out of their work. Beyond these,
however, is a very different set of restorers (so-called), a host of men not
always architects even in name, though occasionally such, men justly respected
iri'other branches, and who ought to know better than to touch this ; but,
for the- most part, men who have taken to Gothic architecture, as being a
style in vogue, and merely as a part of their stock in trade ; and into their
hands a very large proportion of our . churches fall. They may be likened

406 Apjnmdix.

to a herd, before whom oar precises pearls are cast, and who trample
them rrtfer tlieir feet, and tern again and rend all objectors.
We receive^ from trace to time, appends to oar Committee far the Coaser-
vatioa of Anrienfr > ___.:mEnen£s 2gair_sfe vandalisms which one wceH bate
thoEght incredible ; and only within the test fee- days I base heard cf ne
clergyman selling to a grocer one of the old chained-np books which be
thooght weald disfigure his "restored* cftnreh ; and of anoPffT expdEng
a famoas series of brasses to secure the i______orE_ity of bis enco-stic t3e
fioo_r j while one fo»*>re of noblemen of the highest immk who make over
the ________i__at___ra of architects for the restoration of tiie chnEches on their
esta&es as a. piece of patronage which is the petKjoisiie of their ageats.
': Taking a. itsiew of th- results of this sad history, one may say that a
certain proportion of onr i___i__.i_hes have been carefully dealt with ; ganfefcpg-
proportion treated with fair intention bat les success; bet that, as I fear,
the majority are almost nttsdy descaled, a__d nine-tenths, if not s^I, cf
their interest swept away. Xor is a. word of ttfn>nts..?mrp raised ag-jjb-.
this by those whose position woold enabte thesa to prevent it ; isieed I
cm with confidence assert that skke objection _s raised agwi. those who
labonr hard to do their doty carefally, than 2g3_____t: ^_e whole hoest of those
who haTe so rmned oar eld chinches* as to lender a chnrch-tosr one of the
most distressing and oi-trgmng of __ds3i____res_ Yet, happily, a rem__3__t
remains r a lew chnrcbes in each district are still left Knresfiored; and for
the preservation of these, like *tf remnant of the SibyBice books, it s
worth while to pay any price. I saw oae _s_ch dnsreh reo_____iy, oa a
little tour in. the eastern ojonties, as if in the still wafer raised by the
tide of destructive restoration ; its roof stiE retaining die thatch which
once prevailed through th =__. district, ont admitting the rain in torrents ;
its timbers the v*_3_i£able old ones, ihoagh partially decayed; 2s qc___i__t
and beautiful seating remaining almost entire, tlxjcgb preysd upon by
the wonn ; its floor retaining beastifbl tiles, of varied geosieteical fam
and mnqae design, though loosened and disponed; its windows st_B
containing extensive remnants of the mast beautiful _kcartee____a-centEiy
glass, exquisite in design and colouring, b:_t ready to drop ont of its
leading ; the waUs, happily, nearly as good as new, and with windows,
arcades' and niche of the most perfect design ; the whole jast wanting
thsJ: tender, losing t«ntffllii«r which woold preserve all winch time has
spaced, and give it a new lease of fT_isff<tre. Ob, that we ceaM
search out these last Meanings from the harvest of destruction, and save
them from, the destroyer's hands.0
I now come to the Paper of suggestions relative to ancient
buildings -which was issued twelve years since by oar Tirishftite,
and which Mi. Stevenson has so boldly held ap to ridicule and
reprobation. This Paper consists, I think, of contributions from different
members of a. sob-committee^ which wiU accotmt for some
trifling inconsistencies. I was myself a contribntor, though —
strange to say — I do not know that I have till recently examined
it with care in its completed form. I really feared, from Mr.

Appendix, 407
Stevenson's alarming description, that I should find it to be
something which we have just cause to be ashamed of. The
reverse is the case j for, subject to- some few inadvertencies of
which he has not failed to take full advantage, to the extent— -I
will not say of misrepresenting — but of absolutely reversing its
real aim, I do not hesitate to say that I have never met with a
document more creditable to the great Society from which it
has emanated, nor one more truthfully and more wisely ad
vising on the course to be taken by those whom it addresses.
It is a plain, unvarnished and unpretending document. Mr.
Stevenson's Paper— on the contrary — is graced with literary
and rhetorical beauty ; yet I am bold to say that the manifesto
of the Institute is worth a thousand of that which holds it up
to ridicule and traduces its suggestions. The only point of
importance which Mr. Stevenson has fairly made good against
this document is that in its first clause it, strangely enough, leaves
the clearing away of modern incumbrances which conceal
ancient work to the employers instead of their architects. This
is a manifest mistake, and it ought at once to be corrected.
Personally I also object to the clause about stripping off
plastering to show the junctions of parts of differing date. This,
however, is inconsistent with other clauses wliich direct the
careful examination of old plastered surfaces in search for
colouring— directing that " plastered surfaces of ancient date
should be preserved if possible j" and that, " as a general rule,
ancient plastering should not be removed, but only repaired
where necessary." The clause in question was, then, only in
tended for exceptional cases. Subject to the correction of such
inadvertencies and of, some minor details as well as to a few
verbal corrections, I boldly aver that I have rarely read a docu
ment more characterized by experience and wisdom, or raor*
diametrically the reverse in its tone, of the colouring which it*
critic has laid upon it. I would further assert that were these
suggestions (subject to the minor corrections I have alluded to)
faithfully followed, our churches would be models of all which
is excellent and to be desired.
As truthful would it be to attribute the defects in our Con
stitution to Magna Charta j what still remains of the slave-
trade to Wilberforce j or of small-pox to Jenner, as to saddle
the guilt of the barbarisms committed on our old churches upon
the admirable code of suggestions which was drawn out for the

408 Appendix.
express purpose of arresting the tide of vandalism. To hold
up such a document to ridicule is not only grossly and absurdly
unfair, but it tends to give unbridled licence to the evils it
sincerely professes to deplore ; for, as the intended deduction,
that we are to do nothing, is one which can never be acted on,
it follows that the holding up the rules of action, and the
protests of those who offer them, to contempt, is simply throwing
the reins upon the neck of vandalism. All honour, then, to
the Institute, which. has (even with a few imperfections) pro
mulgated such a code of rules ; but what honour can we award
to those who seek to turn its wisdom into folly ?
Imagine any one quietly stating that " the Institute Paper
advises the destruction of Perpendicular work," backing it by a
reversal of the meaning of what it does say, which is dia
metrically the contrary, and which really goes too far in urging
the exposure to view of alterations in the later styles, and is
in another place called to account for doing so.
Imagine, again, the statement that it advises the getting rid
of " the flat roofs of perpendicular times," and' that the " new
roof should be made of the same steep pitch as the original roof,"
when what it really says is "if it be found absolutely necessary '
to construct a new roof, owing to the existing roof being entirely
decayed or modern, one of the two following courses should be
adopted : either the old roof where it. exists should be carefully
copied, or the new roof should be made of the same pitch as
the original roof." It further suggests that, "where there is a
clerestory, it will be' well to keep the pitch of the roof erected
at the time it was built," and adds, " flat roofs are by no means
to be condemned." Again, imagine any one saying of the
beautiful western porch at Peterborough '¦' that, as the Institute
Advice puts it, it is a modern addition put up without regard to
architectural propriety ; " while at the same time he criticizes,
and with more justice, the suggestion " that the whole of the
old work should be preserved and exposed to view, so as to
show the history of the fabric with its successive alterations as
distinctly as possible."
This system of misrepresentation seems unhappily held to be
essential to the anti-restoration movement. As a small example
of it, our friend, though two days before reading his Paper he
made a special journey to Canterbury to see what was really
contemplated, nevertheless stated in his Paper that I con-

Appejidix. 409
templated the removal of the screen which separates the choir
from the nave ; while the fact was that we were only talking
of the removal of some comparatively recent fittings, for the
sake of bringing that screen into view.1 He has since modified
that statement, so I only notice it to show that we are viewed
as lawful spoil.
The statements of writers in newspapers merely follow out
the same principle, actually bristling with inaccuracies of the
grossest kind, and, unlike Mr. Stevenson, they usually refuse
to correct them, I have recently met with a signal instance
of this, reminding one of a story told by Lord Brougham
in the House of Lords to show the uselessness of attempting
to correct such statements. A grave and correct parishioner
had complained at a parish vestry meeting of the state of
the church, declaring that if not bettered he would not con
tinue to attend that damp church. The local paper reported
his words correctly excepting the word " damp? which they
changed for a strong word of somewhat similar sound. The
respectable parishioner protested/ but the editor annotated "his
protest by saying that, having consulted his reporter, he felt it
due to him to say that the speaker had not said " damp" but
had used the objectionable word attributed to him.
The question, however, before us is not the truth of par-
'- ticular statements and criticisms (no doubt they are meant to
be true, but things by superabundant zeal are seen through
a distorting medium), but rather what is the true course to be
*: fbllowed ? We are all agreed as. to the calamity which the
' country has suffered ; we differ as to the remedy. We do not
' differ widely as to the premisses, though w,e may as to the con
clusion to be drawn from them. Mr. Stevenson's view has an
unquestionable prima, facie advantage. It is certain that, if
restoration were from this moment stopped, no new mischief
would be done by it ! Many persons have died from bad
doctoring. If all medical treatment were prohibited, such
disasters would unquestionably cease. Nor' is this illustration
imaginary, for a few years since a medical (or anti-medical) sect
was founded, which, abhorrent of old allopathy, and dis
contented with the infinitesimal treatment, styled itself the " do-
%•'¦ nothing" party. Their general acceptance would have done
1 This statement was afterwards corrected in Mr. Stevenson's Paper at
the author's request.

4 1 o Appendix.
away for ever with deaths from overdosing, and who knows but
that disease itself would have fled before their frown? But
the movement unfortunately failed, because misguided and
impatient patients would not be persuaded to allow themselves
to be let alone.
Such doctors would not have been content with crying down
incompetent practitioners, and would have condemned Hahne
mann himself as a tamperer with the human constitution — they
would forbid all such meddling ; and, had they succeeded, we
might have become a race of Methuselahs ; but human nature
is blind, and the proffered boon was refused ! O, forttmati
nimium, sua si bona nSrint !
I could almost wish myself that the " do-nothing " system
could be applied to old buildings, if only as an experiment j
but I fear it would meet with the same fate as when proposed
to human patients ; and then, perhaps, after all it might be
found the best course to call in good doctors (if there be any),
and for them to stick to such prosaic rules as those of the
institute of British Architects— reasonably revised, and ren
dered as much more stringent as may be, — to the pious
conservation of whitewash, high pews, three-deckers, and
other bequests (if Mr. S. will have it so) of the Reformation,
or (as I should say) of the yet more blessed days of Queen
Anne and the Georges.
I confess- to having tried this in some degree myself j but
I have been circumvented by the prejudices of my clients. I
uniformly succeed as regards Jacobean pulpits, and I think
altar tables ; but am less successful in my attempts in favour
of seventeenth-century pewing, unless it be indisputably fine —
such as we find at Brancepeth, . St. John's Leeds, or Halifax.
By the way, I can claim a share with Mr. Norman Shaw (who
actually carried out the work) in the credit of saving St. John's,
Leeds, — probably the most interesting church of the Jacobean
period — from destruction. It was referred to me, and on
taking leave of a leading Leeds architect as I was starting
to inspect it, his last exhortation was, " Paint it black enough."
I painted it in the most brilliant colours I was master of, and
it was saved, all but its pew doors, the loss of which I
deplore, for they were beauties. Sounding-boards I strive
after, but often fail. I preserved one, however, recently in
spite of the incumbent, the parishioners, and an archbishop.

Appendix. 4 1 1
I set off against this the loss of another — a beauty — by the
casting dictum of a bishop, a weakness of which I am ashamed.
Returning to the consideration of the do-nothing system, I
will mention some cases bearing upon it. Mr. Stevenson has
sketched a charming picture of an unrestored church. His
exquisite language and touchingly pathetic tone carried one
quite away. Certainly such a church it would be sacrilege to
touch ! I cannot help flattering myself that he founded this
beautiful picture on thehnes of one which I clumsily attempted
to draw in my own Paper read before this Institute ; but the
charm of genius has given it such beauty that one can hardly
recognize the resemblance to the rude original. I confess that
when I sketched it T was conscious of allowing my imagination
to congregate, into one fancied church, charms which were
culled from several ; but my friend has gone far beyond this.
A whole rural deanery would scarcely supply the raw material
for such a church as his. Would that he would tell me of its
whereabouts, under oath that I would not restore it!
"This is far different from what we usually find. Sordid
neglect, barbarous mutilation, and ruinous dilapidation are the
most frequent characteristics of an unrestored church, united,
it is true, with the charm of its traditional and untouched
condition. I made a survey of such a church a few weeks back ; no
architect had ever touched it; only unsophisticated country
builders, innocent of archaeology and even of the word "resto
ration." What was its condition ? The tower looked suffi
ciently old and rubbishy, having no architectural features
whatever. The clerk, a man of sixty, declared it had not been
meddled with in his day, or within his hearing of; but an
octogenarian whom" we found, told us that he had himself
worked at the rebuilding of it during the first years of the
century. The windows of the church seemed of doubtful age,
and I found that they had been tinkered out of shape and style
by a neighbouring mason some thirty years back. The octo
genarian told me that he remembered a chancel screen, through
which poor people "peeked" at the parson— and old oak seats
" with a kind of ornament at the top of the ends," but these
had been replaced with high deal pews, and he said with a
humourous leer that he supposed the old ones were burnt
The roofs, on the other hand, were in a good traditional state;

4 1 - AppMidix.
lowered in the seventeenth century, and containing many frag
ments of older work mingled with later parts, some by no
means bad. There were also a beautiful pulpit, desk, and altar
table of the same period. One clerestory had fourteenth-
century round windows, the other mullioned oiu -s of the seven-
teenth. Now, is it best to let such a church wholly alone, or to
preserve aU old work, down to the seventeenth century inclu
sive, and try to improve the rest ?
But I will take a stronger case. Llanclaff Cathedral had
been allowed, from the Reformation downwards, to fall into
something more than a semi-ruinous state : in the middle of
the last century, with just as good intentions as the man men
tioned by old John Evelyn, they set to work to redeem it.
Their system was as follows : they sent for Mr. Wood, of Bath,
who had just erected the Pump Room there. He seems to
have advised that so much of the eastern part as they thought
needful should be eut out from the rest and internally con
verted, so far as might be, into a double of his Pump Room.'
lie found the arcades, projecting strings, labels, &c, in the wayj
so he walled up the arches, and chopped off projecting mould
ings, and, as the old walls might prove to be damp, he battened
them over, cutting the grounds to which his battens were nailed
deep into the walls. By this clever device, he was able to shut
out from view all that was " gothic j" and an enthusiastic
clergyman writes at the time : " Tiie church, in the inside, as
far as it is ceiled and plastered, looks exceeding fine, and when
finished, it will, in the judgment of most people who have seen
it, be a very neat and elegant church."
The rest he happily left a ruin, of which the architecture is
as line as anything in this country.
Now when our friends Messrs. Prichard and Seddon were
called in to advise, what ought they to have said ? An echo
answers " nothing" They did not think so, but following the
dictates of common sense, they did away with the Pump
s Sines tlvis Paper was in type I have received a tetter from a friend
stating that it was the Hot Baths—not tho Vump Room, which Mr. Wood
erected. Mr. Freeman's and Mr, King's Recounts of Llamkff Cathedral
give particulars as to Mr. Wood's works at Llamlaff. My information
about hi* having imitated at LlandalT his own work at liath was oral and
may have been mi.-.tixken. The present Tump Room is of far more recent
date. It may have been his Assembly Room to which the statement
referred.

Appendix. 4 1 3
Room, re-roofing and repairing the entire church, and thus
recovered a noble arid most charming interior. I am not
pledging myself to all that was done, my knowledge of it is
insufficient ; but I confidently assert that they took the only
right course. I offer no opinion on the added south-west
tower, for I have not seen it ; I speak only of the manner in
which they rooted out the barbarism of the eighteenth century
and reinstated the beauty of the thirteenth.
I am tempted to speak of St. David's. I knew it well, long
before I was professionally connected with it, and most truly
sordid was its condition. Not to mention the eastern chapels
which were, and still are, in ruins, the choir aisles were walled
off and unroofed ; the. roofs throughout dripping water into, the
church, the walls, pillars, arches, &c, running down with wet,
and everything evincing the most abject and contemptuous
neglect. When called upon to advise, I found two of the four piers of
the central tower crushed in the most fearful manner, so as to
threaten destruction to the whole building ; was this, I would
ask, a case for doing nothing? What I have done has saved
the existence of this most noble church, rendered the structure
safe and strong, made the interior dry and -wholesome, brought
to light many most interesting features before nearly lost. The
choir aisles have been re-roofed, and their arcades re-opened ;
and all this without the loss of a single ancient feature, unless
it be one quite decayed Perpendicular window of whose early
English predecessor we found and largely re-used the actual
details. In the same way very many noble churches have
been saved from utterly perishing, by careful treatment applied
only just in time.
I will take another instance. The first considerable church
entrusted to me was placed in my hands some thirty-six years
back, almost in that golden age when restoration was unknown.
It was a grand cruciform church ; the nave and crossing being
of noble Transitional work, one transept of developed Early
English of the finest kind, the other of exquisite Decorated ; the
choir and its aisles of Early English passing on into Decorated.
The clerestory of the nave, with its roof, were very good Per
pendicular, and some other parts had more or less changed
their style. No ancient fittings remained, all having under
gone that honest traditional transformation so romantically

4 1 4 Appendix.
pourtrayed by Mr. Stevenson as the legitimate out-spring of
the Reformation, If ere, surely, was a case for nobly declining
to interfere. But let us look a little further into the condition
of the church : the nave was severed from the rest of the
church, not by the magic lattice-work of screens, but by par
titions dividing the interior into two separate buildings. The
nave was so deeply be-galleried on the north, south, and east,
that the galleries enclosed the pillars of the arcading, so as
wholly to box up their capitals, wliich being found rather in
the way as well as invisible, no scruple was felt about cutting
away their noble transitional foliage and mouldings to make
better room for the timbers ; their outer faces had, conse
quently, undergone amputation. I have mentioned that the
cross gallery was at the east ; the glorious three-decker was,
consequently, placed westward, and in that direction were the
pews made to face. The available church being reduced to
less than half its size, no room was to be lost, so wherever
pillar or pier or arch came in the way of a sitting they had
been hollowed and mined into without remorse.
Partly from such causes and partly from others, the piers of
the central tower— most noble works of the end of the twelfth
century — had given way alarmingly, and the crushing process
continued to increase, The transepts, usefully occupied by
gallery stairs of great commodiousness, had been most beau
tiful structures, especially that to the south, but the lofty spire
having fallen across it in Queen Elizabeth's time, it had been
patched up in true Reformation style ; and aided by subse
quent neglect and decay, its " comeliness " had (as I should
say) been "turned into corruption," or, as Mr. Stevenson might
perhaps say, into historical picturesqueness. The exterior was
much marred by decay. Now was this a case for doing'
nothing 1 In my simplicity I thought not ; so I swept away
high pews, galleries, three-decker and partition walls — works, it
may be, of the days of good Queen Anne, but more probably
of much later date. Thinking it a case for more than usual
care, T engaged as clerk of the works, a talented young friend,
a son of old George Gwilt, the most zealous antiquary I knew,
and conservative almost to the levelof the anti-restoration Society.
We had to lay put, I think, some 1500/. to make the tower safe ;
and, some important antiquarian questions arising, we referred
them to the decision of the Oxford and Cambridge Societies,

Appendix. 4 1 5
Another church I remember, also a cruciform church, but
with aisles only to its chancel. Its nave and transepts were
completely filled up with a gallery in each, whose front crossed
each arch of the central tower, while each chancel aisle
was similarly filled by other galleries. What would the. do-
nothing theory say to this? In another case -a cathedral—
the choir was cut off to the very crown of its arches on all
sides by partitions of lath and plaster with a little glass, and
absolutely severed from the rest of the church.
No trick was so commonly played with a large church in the
two last centuries as cutting off a large part of their length
by a wood and glass partition reaching to its very roof, and
gallerying the remainder in every possible way that could be
contrived. Very many noble churches have I had the pleasure
of redeeming from such degradation, and reinstating them to
their original size. One of these I have seen so re-opened since
our last meeting. It had been chopped in two as late as 1798,
but no one could remember ever seeing the whole interior until
now, or had the smallest conception of its grandeur. One
poor man, a dissenter, was melted to tears at the first sight of
it. The consequence of such restoration is always a vast
increase in the number of worshippers; for while, as Mr.
Stevenson says, " Men believed in the preaching of the Word,
and the church had been arranged with this view," by a strange
inconsistency the "better classes " monopolized that preaching
to themselves, and, boxing themselves up in their high pews,
left their poorer neighbours to hear as they could, or not
at all.
In one glorious monastic church, of which only the nave has
been spared, not only was the church cut in two, by such a
partition, but the remainder was interspersed with private.
galleries, each containing the special pew of a reputable family,
approached by its own private staircase. I recollect nearly
forty years ago being invited to sit in the pew of one of these
magnates, and on failing- to see where it was, and finding
another place, I at last spied out my friend sitting with his
sister in a glazed gallery which seated only three, the third seat
being kindly reserved for myself. In the same church, being
near a watering-place, each parishioner took the key of his pew
in his waistcoat pocket. I recollect being told by an aged lady
visitor that, after waiting near a large empty pew, a young man

4 1 6 Appendix.
came and unlocked it, locked himself in alone in the pew, put
the key again into his waistcoat pocket, leaving her out in the
cold ! These were the men who " believed in the preaching
of the Word," and these were the churches "arranged with this
view." I was at this church only last Wednesday, now long
since opened out and filled with open sittings from end to end,
"just as if the Reformation was a mistake."
In another church, a noble family held an octagonal glazed
pew, hung like a bird-cage from the chancel arch, and so well
contrived that, by facing about east or west, his lordship could
attend either the nave or chancel service. Many of these
aristocratic pews had fireplaces, before which the noble occu
pant was wont to stand with his coat-tails hooked over his
arms, as if in a coffee-room. But time would fail to tell of
these monstrosities, which I do not wonder that the new enthu-
siastics should venerate, being the productions of the days of
Queen Anne and the Georges.
In the north of England the high pews, whether in galleries
or below, were usually lined with green baize ; and where they
cross pillars or windows the stonework was painted green to
match, up to the same level with the baize !
The parish in which I was born had once a noble church,
with a central tower which swayed so much in the wind as to
cause certain cracks to open and shut so conveniently that the
boys are said to have cracked nuts in them. One fine night —
the do-nothing system having prevailed too long— the tower
fell and destroyed the whole church. In another, the parish
vestry at length became alarmed, and invited an eminent
engineer who was in the neighbourhood to- meet them. He
declined because the vestry where they met was too near the
tower. It fell the next week, and destroyed the church,
Brunei is said to have been similarly consulted about a tower,
and reported that the only reason he could give why it should
not fall to-morrow was that it did not fall yesterday.
I have had the happiness of saving several noble towers
imminently threatened with destruction, among which I may
mention St. Mary's at Stafford, St. Mary's at Nottingham,
those of Aylesbury and Darlington churches, the central towers
at St. David's, and St. Alban's, and the western towers at Ripon.
Two which. I was desirous to save, were, after much anxious
thought, found to be past recovery, having been neglected too

Appendix. 4 1 7
long. I do not covet such work :— one sleeps, more quietly
without it. I have surveyed three towers within the last few
weeks ; one I pronounced to have nothing the matter With it,
two to be in very serious danger.
I will only trouble you with one other case, and that a more
agreeable one. It is that of a church dearly loved by me, as
that which first called forth my reverence for architecture. It
was, when I first knew it, more than half a century ago, almost
equal to Mr. Stevenson's poetical beau-ideal. Hard by there had
once been1 a mediaeval mansion belonging successively to the
Giffprds, the De Veres, the Bolbecks, and the Courtenays.
The oldest part of the church — the unpretending tower — was
only of early perpendicular date, but the exquisite decorated
churchyard cross showed the church to have been cared for at
an earlier period. The Courtenays had forfeited the Manor
during the Wars of the Roses, but had recovered it after Bos
worth Field ; when they and a little Abbey, which held the
great tithes, rebuilt the church about 1493 in architecture just
as good for a village church as the chapel of Henry VII. is for
a royal burial-place. The Courtenays were again attainted,
and the manor went into another highly respected family,
which (excepting the time of the Commonwealth) held it till
the present century, when it lapsed by the female line into
another noted family, who sold it within my own memory.
There had not been a resident incumbent for many centuries,
and the resident proprietors had passed away, but the church
as yet remained as they had left it, saving only the effects of
damp, decay, and neglect. The exquisite screen and rood-
loft still secluded the beautiful chancel The old seating re
mained nearly throughout ; but, of later ages, there were the
long succession of tombs, the stately family pew, a small
' gallery in the tower, and Moses and Aaron depicted in
gorgeous array over the rood loft. All the windows seemed to
have been filled with painted glass of the very highest merit ;
but only the upper range of lights of one window remained
entire, containing beautiful illustrations of the legend of St
Nicholas; others had fragments of noble figures of abbots, &c,
while the heads of the lights in the chancel and its side chapel
contained most charming scraps, like some of Van Eyck's, or
Hans Hemling's backgrounds, giving views of medieval cities,
so faithfully drawn that, if we knew them, we might recognize
e e

41 8 Appendix.
the individual steeples. Here I used to spend much of my
time, when I hardly knew that there was such a profession as
ours ; and later on I used during my holiday-time to make
measured drawings of the details.
Well, nearly half a century passed away, and I was called
upon to survey the dear old church with a view to its resto
ration. During the interval decay, neglect, and mutilation had
been silently doing their deadly work. The panelled ceiling
had almost all disappeared, and all sorts of things were much
worse for half a century's neglect. I undertook the work, not
professionally, but as a labour of love, and set myself to pre
serve all which was old, to restore some parts which were lost,
and to put the whole in so substantial a state as indefinitely to
prolong its existence.
Some of the mouldings of the lost ceilings remained stowed
away in a corner ; and with these, and the help of sketches which
I had made when a boy, I had the happiness of reinstating
them. Some fragments of stonework which had fallen from
their place I had myself stowed away during my youth, and they
came out now, ready to guide the restitution of the fallen parts.
I had a terrible fight for the family or "great house " pew, put up
by a chief justice in the last century, and condemned as a sym
bol of human pride, though the family to whose pride it had
ministered had passed away. I saved it by the compromise of
a little of its width to reopen the way into the chancel aisle —
the older scene of family worship — which it had closed.
I was circumvented about Moses and Aaron — the too canny
vicar having unshipped them before I was aware of it. He
also got rid of the sounding-board, the red rag of the modern
cleric, but it was only Georgian. I plead guilty to the sacrifice
of a gallery of a like date. I saved with difficulty the Worm-
eaten door, studded with the bullets of Cromwell's soldiers who
besieged and burnt the castle. I was defeated in the next fight
for the non-removal of two effigies and their aiiar tomb,
shattered by the Cromwellians, which stood upon the altar
platform, the vicar declaring them (not without reason) incom
patible with the due performance of the service. My defeat,
however, was due to his proving that it was impossible that
this could have been their original position, and that there was
no burial beneath them. It was clear, therefore,. that their frag
ments had been collected and placed here after the Common-

Appendix. 4 1 9
wealth ; and the tomb was re-erected without restoration in a
more probable and less inconvenient position.
The one ancient stained glass window was rendered tho
roughly strong and permanent without the insertion or loss of a
single piece of glass, and all shattered fragments were preserved
in their places. I had the privilege myself of replacing the
exquisite fan groining of the porch : and, one thing with
another, the church was brought back much into the state it
was in when Cole, the antiquary, says of its distinguished
occupant, after describing enthusiastically the various beauties
of the place, "but the best thing belonging to the place is its
master." For myself, who have for half a century loved it be
yond all other parish churches, I can only say that it is one of the
greatest comforts of my life to think of its present condition.
I have dwelt, ali too lengthily, upon these instances, just to
show how unavoidable it is that some restorations should take
place. Mr. Petit, a strong anti-restorationist, used to say that,
like the measles, restoration was inevitable; and, like children so
visited, he could only wish the churches safe through it. Time
would fail to tell of the necessities of enlargement, &c., to meet
present needs. These and the desire to reinstate lost features
are the great difficulties of the restorer; though sometimes
compensated by the discovery of lost and beautiful features,
such as the two shrines at St. Alban's.
In carrying out such works as I have been describing, the
best of us often err. We are too apt to be led astray by siren
voices both from without and within. We are— it may be—
weak, and open to intimidation. We are— possibly— obstinate,
and adhere too much to our own fancies. -We are — perhaps
—insufficiently careful, and pass over things with too little
thought. We are — sometimes — not sufficiently severe with de^
structive builders, clerks of the work, and workmen, whose bar
barisms—found out when too late— are often truly heart
breaking. And — one evil influence with another— we are
guilty of all kinds of short-comings and over-steppings ; and it
is most wholesome to have such Papers as that under con
sideration to goad us into more careful dealing, and to bring
our sins to remembrance : and if the New Society were to
abate somewhat of what I think the exaggeration of its views,
I should welcome it as a court of appeal, which we so greatly
need in difficult cases, and which I called out for as early as
e e 2

420 Appendix.
thirty-six years back. I dare say our codes of rules are not of
sufficient stringency, and should be stiffened. I know that,
whatever their defects, we do not always adhere to them as we
ought. I do not, therefore, complain of our critics if their
little finger proves thicker than our loins ; nor when we have
chastised others with whips, they chastise us with scorpions.
I will add one more word : that while wishing success to
the Society in all their reasonable, endeavours, I would suggest
to them a few most useful fields for their exertions.
i. To press upon the proprietors of ruined buildings the
duty of protecting them as much as possible from increasing
decay by securing the tops of the shattered walls from wet.
2. To find out and oppose, while there is time, the con
templated destruction of ancient buildings, down even to those
of the last century. The losses we are constantly sustaining by
the actual destruction of old buildings is truly appalling ! Of
timber buildings, which are constantly being taken down as
ruinous, I assert that timely and judicious reparation is the
only possible means for their preservation.
3. To have measured drawings made, systematically and
constantly, of all the unprotected architectural antiquities of
our land, that when, in the course of nature, their architecture
perishes, authentic drawings may remain behind.
4. I am ready and willing to take my share, where I deserve
it, in the protests against bad restoration, but I beg the Society
to recollect that (as I have elsewhere said) the great majority
of ancient buildings are committed to the mercy of a herd who
trample them under their feet and turn again and rend all
objectors. Let this herd at least have a share of censure, or
their patrons will conclude that they have done rightly in
casting their pearls before them.
I will only add, as regards churches, that it will be useless
to endeavour to persuade seriously thinking people that it is
wrong " to restore churches from motives of religion." They
were built from such motives, and must ever be treated with
like aim. It is equally useless to persuade them that it is
wrong from "religious sanction "-to redeem them from "their
present state of mutilation," that it is right to preserve the high
pews which, added by the rich like " field to field till there be
no place," have driven God's poor from their own churches.
Mr. Stevenson talks of the " dreary ranges of low benches,"

Appendix. 421
and truly they do often look dreary enough, but I do not know
that they are more so than high pews which half bury the
pillars. Let us not, however, judge of churches only when
empty : " empty benches " are proverbially dreary : let us
rather see them when thronged by devout worshippers, and the
dreariness of the seat-backs will not much trouble either eye or
memory. Better see the people than have them buried to the
neck in Georgian " dozing pens." Let the Society make up
their minds at once that any attempt to banish religious motives
from the treatment of churches is suicidal ; and let them rather
aim — this being taken for granted — at making us do this
necessary and religious work with the smallest possible sacrifice
of history and antiquity.
By the bye ! I have good news for the Society ! A clergy
man whom I met the other day, and who confessed to the
malice prepense of contemplated " restoration," told me that he
had found his parishioners " too conservative to part with their
money— too anti-ritualistic to part with their square pews."

THOROUGH ANTI-RESTORATION.
Sir,— On reading Mr. Loftie's article on " Thorough Restora
tion," in last month's Macmillan, my first reflection was that I
had never felt more pointedly the truth of the injunction,
"Judge not, that ye be not judged ;" since, after having for
years been amongst the most earnest of protesters against the
system he condemns, I find my sentiments, and almost my very
words taken out of my mouth, and adduced to my own
condemnation. This is the more excruciating, when I find in a list of
.damaged churches one, which had filled me with such wrath
as to provoke me (though without expressly naming it) to
introduce a most pungent paragraph into my inaugural
address, when elected President of the Institute of British
Architects; and— then find one of my own (which I had rather
plumed myself upon) introduced in the same list. This, how
ever, is, after all, a mere flea-bite; but, while Mr. Loftie does
not think it worth while to say much about the common run of
restoration (such as those which have provoked my most earnest

422 Appendix.
protests) he devotes himself with a special gusto to writing
down some of my own which I had flattered myself were un
assailable, or to which I had at least devoted special love and
earnest anxiety.
Now, how am I to account for this? Am I really such a
self-deceiver as to fancy my own works to be honest and con
scientious, while in fact they are just as bad as those against
which I have been crying out " in season and out of season "
for so many years ? — or do I look at matters from a different
stand-point from Mr. Loftie?— or is that gentleman's per
ception warped or obscure ? I cannot answer these questions.
There is only one test that I can think of. It is clearly useless
to discuss the abstract merits or demerits of works. I can,
however, examine into questions of fact, and by inference from
these it is possible that some aid may be obtained in judging
of questions of opinion. Anyhow, it will be the better for the
general subject that it be divested from any palpable, errors of
this nature.
Mr. Loftie lays great stress upon the restoration, ten years
back, of the church of St. Michael, near St. Alban's. "A very
bad case, indeed," says he, " where one of the oldest churches
in England has been deliberately ruined." The excellent in
cumbent, who is absolutely devoted to his church, and well
knows every stone and brick of it, says on the contrary, " I
consider the restoration of the church as- thoroughly conser
vative, and often point out to visitors evidences of your great
anxiety that every old feature should be distinctly shown 
Pray accept my best thanks for your true and careful restoration
of the dear- old church of St. Michael's."
Another competent person, who watched the work through
out, says : — " I have no hesitation in saying that a more careful
restoration was never carried out, special care to preserve every
portion of the building being taken by Sir Gilbert Scott." For my
own part I can assert the same. I took a very particular in
terest in the building and its conservation: and even walls
which it seemed at first impossible to save, were bolstered up and
embalmed, one may say, against the common decay of nature,
by being saturated internally with cementing matter ; so that
their surface remained identically as I found it, with all its
strange intermixture of flint, stone, and Roman tile. In this
course of laborious conservation, work, apparently Saxon, con-

Appendix. 423
structed in Roman brick, has been discovered throughout the
church. An arch and doorway on the north of the chancel,
and windows on either side the nave, of this age and material,
have been discovered and carefully opened out to view, cut
through and ignored by the Norman arcade, itself so old that
Clutterbuck says of the arches, that " they bear a striking re
semblance to those in part of the nave in the Abbey Church."
The old roofs of the nave, the north aisle, and the south chapel
of the nave have been cleared from the lath and plaster which
largely concealed them, carefully repaired, without in the least
disturbing their antiquity, and exposed again to sight. The
half-timber work of the south chapel has also been opened out
to view : while not a wall or a bit of wall has been disturbed or
renewed, beyond a small amount of reparation imperatively de
manded for safety. Windows of later date, long walled up,
have been opened out again and, where necessary, repaired.
None, however, have been renewed excepting the east window
of the chancel, which had fallen out and had been replaced by a
wooden frame : and, even in this single renewal, the jambs,
&c, are the old ones, and the arch contains the only old stone
which could be found of it In fact, the loving pains taken
to preserve and hand down in its identity this ancient fabric, with
all the changes in its history not only retained, but rediscovered
and brought again to light, was beyond what I can describe.
And this is what Mr. Loftie calls being "deliberately ruined ! "
Hitherto, however, difference of view may be pleaded. Let
us come, then, to more palpable questions of fact He says-
still speaking of St. Michael's— " the Elizabethan entrance,
ceiling, and pews were all relics of his (Lord Bacon's) time, and
are all swept away, and. the chapel reduced to the level of an
ordinary chancel aisle." These expressions evidently took
their rise from Mr. Thorne, who probably trusted too much to
his memory, and similarly speaks of the " Elizabethan porches,
ceilings, and fittings" as "strengthening Baconian associa
tions ;" and further says : " the Verulam Chapel opposite the
tomb, with its Elizabethan entrance, ceiling, and pews, had
quite a Baconian character before the recent restoration when
.... the chapel was reduced to an ordinary chancel aisle."
I learn also that Mr. Loftie speaks of a "ceiled pew," as being
the very seat in which Bacon sat, " alluded to in the touching
epitaph " — the epitaph containing the words, Sic sedebat.

424 Appendix.
Now, all this is most perplexing. In the first place, the
" ordinary chancel aisle " into which I have succeeded in
reducing the "Bacon chapel" or "ceiled pew" neither exists
nor ever did exist. The chancel has not and never had an
aisle. Clutterbuck correctly describes the church, as it was
then and now is, as consisting (besides the tower), of " a nave,
north side-aisle, a south chapel of the nave, and a chancel ; "
but no chancel aisle was there. Again, there was no ceiled
pew or anything of the kind; nor was there any form of
"Elizabethan ceiling" whatever. The chancel, it is true, was
ceiled — but how ? Let us hear from the clerk of the works.
" The roof was for the most part fir, some of the rafters were
chestnut. The whole of it is in such a rotten state, it was found
impossible to do anything with it ; and but for the modern
ceiling shaped in fir to form the same it must have collapsed."
This " Elizabethan ceiling " was probably put up " during the
repair of the church," which Clutterbuck mentions "in the year
180S." Mr. Thorne mentions "new roofs." The only hew
roof takes the- place of this, which was so rotten as only to be
held up by a modern ceiling.
Let us come, however, to the " Bacon chapel " or pew. I
never heard of its having anything to do with Bacon, nor did
any one I have inquired of, and I utterly disbelieve it. Even
Mr. Loftie can hardly believe it to be identical with (hardly
that it contained) the handsome arm-chair referred to in the
,: Sic sedebat /" It was a common, ordinary pew, bearing no
signs of antiquity, and was about one-third of it in the chancel,
and two-thirds in the nave : as a consequence, if it is older
than 1808, it was severed in two by the chancel screen, which
it seems was only removed in that year. Besides this frustum
of the Gorhambury pew, the main portion of which (with its
fireplace) was in the nave, the chancel contained " three
ordinary square seats for the Gorhambury servants," of which
the incumbent says : " My own opinion is that the pews were
made by some of the members of the family of the present
owners of Gorhambury, the Grimstons."
In corroboration of this opinion I have (in addition to my
own memory and that of a most trustworthy assistant) the
testimony of the clerk of the works that " no remains of posts
were found which could have supported such a covering [or
' ceiling '], but only a curtain on brass rods : that the framing

Appendix. 425
was in part of deal, and some few panels on the sides of wains
cot, but quite modern : not small, square panels, with moulded
styles and rails like Queen Anne's period, but simply of a very
coarse moulding." He gives the section, which is of quite
modern character.
So much for the "Bacon chapel," which I, for one, never till
last month heard of. The "Elizabethan porch" or "entrance"
consisted of jambs and lintel of Portland stone, in section like
the nosing of a stone step, which the clerk of the works from
its own evidence, states to have been " re-used " — that is re
moved here from some place where it had been previously
employed. " The insertion of it," he says, " caused the de
struction of one half of the decorated canopy of a tomb found
in the south wall of the chancel," and now opened out to view.
I do not know that Portland stone was brought into the neigh
bourhood of London till Inigo Jones's time,3 which hardly
allows of these pieces having been used and re-used before
Bacon's decease in 1626. . The fact is that this entire Baconian
theory is a mere mare's nest. Neither " chapel," " ceiled pew,"
"porch," "entrance," nor " ceiling " of Bacon's time, existed,
save in the fertile imaginations of these zealous gentlemen.
Nor had the church ever exhibited it's antiquities so profusely
or so plainly as has been the case, since (in Mr. Loftie's lan
guage) it has been " deliberately ruined."
I now come to the glorious abbey church (now happily the
cathedral) of St. Alban.
I may begin by saying (at the risk of egotism) that for
scarcely any church have I so strong and earnest a love as for
this. It was the day-dream of my boyhood to be permitted to
visit it, and on the earliest opportunity which offered — only a
year less than half a century back — I made, with a palpitating
heart, my first pilgrimage there. This was before the repairs
were undertaken by Mr. Cottingham, and while the small
leaded spire, so characteristic of the district, still crowned the
central tower. Ever since that time I have been a not unfre-
quent visitor and student, and my various reports, as well as—
to those who recollect them— my many peripatetic lectures, will
show how earnest have been my feelings towards this, probably
3 Mr. Hull, the geologist, in his Treatise on Building Stones, says of
Portland stone : " previously to 1623 this stone does not appear to have at
tracted any attention."

426 Appendix.
the most interesting of all English churches; and I can scarcely
think it possible for any one to believe (whatever may have
been my errors of judgment) that I should have purposely
injured a building so dear to me.
Mr. Loftie begins by saying that " the works, as carried out,
have already been the subject of controversy." No one knows
this better than himself, for it was he who raised that contro
versy, in which he was, as I think, signally discomfited.
He begins with a thrice-told tale about the tower having
been " stripped of its original plaster." This has- been more
than once fully explained, but is too good a stone to remain
unthrown. Mr. Loftie has, however, in the interval of fight,
forgotten his tale. It is clear that he now thinks that it was
internal plaster which was thus stripped, for he goes on to say
of the exterior of the tower that "the exquisite weathering of
the old bricks" has been "rudely removed;" and, again, that
" there was a venerable bloom on the bricks." Now, will it be
believed that this " exquisite weathering" and "venerable bloom"
are ascribed to brickwork which I was the first to expose to view,
and which had never known what weather was since the days
of Henry I., when the walls were coated with the mortar with
which my critic accuses me of having " daubed " them " every
where " ? I can hardly be blamed for destroying beauties
which existed in Mr. Loftie's brilliant imagination— and nowhere
else. The facts of the case are these : the tower, like the rest of the
Norman structure, was built of Roman bricks from Verulam,
and coated all over with plastering. This plastering had often
gone out of repair, and been patched again and again in a not
very slightly manner. It was once more in bad order, and was
falling off in large flakes when I was repairing the tower, so
much so that it was found necessary to remove it, with the full
intention of repeating it. Here I suppose came in what he
alludes, to as " the wishes of the townsmen," for I recollect
arguing against some one's wishes, and urging that- the tower
was always meant to be plastered. So far, however, was I from
being "led by them," that I obstinately persisted in my own
way, and began to replaster the walls, when on my next visit I
was so horrified at their hideousness, that I at once restripped
my own plaster, and exposed to view the entire structure
of Roman brick. The "pointing" alluded to was simply to

Appendix. 427
protect the decayed mortar-joints. I do not ask Mr. Loftie's
opinion as to its necessity, he has no means of judging— while
I have. Whether the Roman brick, or the plastering which
covered it, be the best looking, I leave to others : but this being
the largest structure in England of the Roman brick, the
interest attached to that material, and the fact that the con
struction is now visible, at least make some amends for the loss
of its coating of mortar.
As a matter of taste, pure and simple, there is room for two
opinions. Sir Edmund Becket likes it, Mr. Stevenson does
not, and while Mr. Loftie is not quite sure what we have done
(whether plastering or unplastering) he dislikes it, whatever it
may be. We find the editor of Mr. Murray's Guide to St.
Alban's Cathedral ''saying, that "the tile-work, which is the
great feature of St. Alban's, is thus shown in its integrity, and
the tower has infinitely gained in beauty of tone and colour,"
and the editor of his .Handbook to the Environs of London (Mr.
Loftie's text -book for St. Michael's) saying that "lastly, to the
great improvement of its appearance, the remaining cement was
stripped from the exterior, the mortar repointed, and the struc
tural character fairly exposed to view."
Mr. Loftie next attacks the interior, which he says has been
"simply gutted." By this he means that the pewing, galleries,
&c, have been removed. He omits, however, to give the
reason for their removal. This w;as not done, in the first
instance, with any notion about the incongruity of such fittings,
but simply because the central tower, under or near which most
of them were placed, threatened to fall, and the space occupied
by them was imperatively required for the timber shoring,
excavations, and new foundations requisite to render it secure.
Mr. Loftie mentions the " Georgian oak panelling." Any one
who looks at Neale's view of the interior of the choir, will at
once observe that this panelling enclosed the two eastern piers
of the tower, in which the chief danger existed. How, then,
let me ask, were these pillars to be repaired (one of them was
crushed for seven feet/deep into its substance) without removing
the panelling? The same was the case with the adjoining
walls of the presbytery. One, at least, of them was crushed
throughout its length beneath the casing of this "Georgian
panelling." How was it to be rendered safe while this re
mained ? It was as much as we could do to save it at all.

42S Appendix.
If the panelling had remained, the tower would probably not
now be standing.
" But," it will be asked, "why not have refixed this panelling
when the work was done ? " One reason was this, that it had
covered up on either side the ancient doorways into the pres
bytery, the beautiful tabernacle-work over which had been
ruthlessly hewn down, probably to make way for it. New
openings had been rudely cut through the walls to the east
ward of these, and it became necessary to security that these
should be solidly walled up, and consequently that the older
ones should be re-opened just where the wainscoting was. But
" why not refix the old pewing, galleries, &c. ? " Our work
had been begun for the safety of the building, but it had grown
into restoration. A bishopric was hoped for and even promised.
The galleries, &c, had already partly disappeared before we
began, and the organ shown at the west end of the choir in
Neale's view had yielded to one (on a sufficiently absurd design)
in the transept. But what need is there of explanations ? Let
any reasonable being take a glance at Neale's or Clutterbuck's.
views, and ask himself whether, when the Abbey Church should
become a cathedral, it would be possible to retain such fittings ?
They dated, I believe, from 1716'to 1801, with other parts
erected within the last fifteen years. ' I know of no " Eliza
bethan " work or " traces of the Stuart period " earlier than
Queen Anne's time. The pulpit and its sounding-board will,
no doubt, be retained.
I may add that Mr. Loftie speaks of the oak as " black
with age." He is not perhaps aware that oak does not
get black with age, but with oil and varnish. The "Watch
ing Loft " is of far greater age than the work he laments,
but shows more disposition to .become white, than black, with
age. Mr. Loftie winds up his remarks on this most venerable
building by saying that " it would have been impossible, three
years ago, to believe that it could be made to look so new by
any expenditure of thought or money."
I write while fresh from St. Albans, and I simply meet this
statement by denying it. True, that where the tower piers
have been repaired to save the building from destruction their
new plastering necessarily "looks new." True, that where
stone details of windows had so perished that it had for many

Appendix. 429
years been thought hopeless to glaze* them, the renewal or
repair of such portions must necessarily- look in part new.
True, that where dirt has given place to cleanness, it may look
newer for the operation, just as any other building, when
repaired, looks fresher than before. But I assert that not
only the real antiquity, but the old look of the building has
been thoroughly respected. Wherever the whitewash is
scraped off old paintings and inscriptions appear; and, con
trary to what is usual, where stonework is divested of its
whitewash, its darker colour gives it a look of even increased
age. The building was in a degree a ruin, and must be
repaired. Five whole bays of the nave clerestory had scarcely
a square yard of old stone surface remaining, while the aisle
roof below them Was, after each successive winter, strewed
thickly with the debris annually brought down. Is this state
of things to remain because, forsooth, some can be found to
prefer ruin to reparation? This glorious temple must not,
and so far as I am concerned shall not, be left to crumble on
to its destruction, but I hope to redeem it at the smallest
possible cost of real, and even apparent, antiquity.
I will not, however, farther defend my own course as regards
this building. Mr. Street, in recently addressing the Institute
of British Architects, said that as to St Alban's Abbey he
(Mr. Street) could only say that the work which had been
done there under the direction of Sir Gilbert Scott was the
opening to us of what was practically a sealed book, and he
could hardly conceive that anybody, who at all cared for
mediaeval art, could object to what had been done there.
The rector of St Alban's, in writing to express his "ad
miration " of c: the ingenuity displayed " by Mr. Loftie, goes
on to say: "I can positively affirm that Mr. Loftie's state
ment, that the exquisite weathering of the old bricks has been
rudely removed, is absolutely untrue. The only external
portions of the building in which they were exposed to the
weather have not been touched, while the tower, where they
had been plastered over, and could by no possibility have
gathered any bloom, now reveals them; and even the last
three winters have given them a weathering which will grow
* The glass had been replaced by open brickwork which Mr. Loftie has,
I believe, elsewhere called Elizabethan lattice-work, but which has been
shown to have been put in by a man now living.

-kj1-*

Appendix.

more dunning as years roll on. So Iar from the tower looking
' modem ' (as it did irhen it was stuccoed) the course after
course c-f the tiles of old Verulam now exposed to view impart
an appearance of urlque antiquity, and tell even the chance
beholder the story of the pile. I shaU never forget Charles
ivin^sley's enthusiastic admiration when I had the pleasure of
pointan- this out to him." After saying what I have already
stated about the old pulpit, he suggests that Mr. Loftie K might
have told his readers of the finding of the shrine of St Amphi-
balus ; of the discovery of the charming perpendicular door
way and stone screen in the south pfesbytery aisle ; also of the
lovely fourteenth-century choir ceiling; of the restoration of
the old levels, adding to the height of the interior of the build
ing income places as much as two feet; of the discovery of
the foundations of the old choir stalls, whereby you have been
able to replace their temporary successors on the old lines.5' He
mendons also the ancient rile pavements and -wall paintings, the
presbytery entrances, &c, but adds " only this would not have
agreed with the indictment"
Mr. Ridgway Lloyd, the great local antiquary of St. Albans,
who has done so good a work in elucidating its history,
writes to me also to express his indignation at the attack.
After telling me that watching the progress of the work had
been one of his greatest pleasures for several years, he
says: —
'• With your permission I will give a few instances to show
the conservative character of your work.
"The Georgian (not Elizabethan) oak panelling in the
presbytery was of no great merit, and its removal was most
fortunate, since it served to hide the fractures in the north-east
pier of the lantern tower, which so nearly led to the destruc
tion of the central tower, and a great part of the eastern limb
of the church. It also concealed from view the presbytery door
ways as well as the canopied structure over the southern of
these doorways. That over the north door is certainly new
[though following old indications], but soon after it was
fir.ished, some finiais [pinnacles] belonging to its predecessor
were found in the Saint's chapel, and at once the new finiais
were cut off and the old ones substituted.
'• It is true, that after the two eastern {tiers carrying the
lantern tower had been partly rebuilt with brick and cement,

Appendix. 43 r
they were plastered over to match their fellows on the western
side, but who would wish it otherwise ?
"In the Lady Chapel, in almost every instance in which the
wall-arcading has been renewed, old and new work may be
seen side by side, the former by its presence attesting the
faithfulness of the latter.
" One most valuable of the many discoveries made during
the restoration is that of the ancient paintings on the- ceiling of
the choir. This was until recently adorned with a series of
seventeenth-century paintings indifferently executed, but it
was discovered that the panels bore an earlier design beneath.
The later painting having been carefully removed, a splendid
series of thirty-two heraldic shields (date circa r37o) was dis
closed, showing the mediaeval arms assigned, to the saints
Alban, Edward the Confessor, Edmund, O'swyn, George, and
Louis ; to the emperors Richard (Earl of Cornwall) and Con
stantine ; to the kings of England, Scotland, Man, Castile and
Leon, Portugal, Sweden, Cyprus, Norway, Arragon. Denmark,
Bohemia, Sicily, Hungary, Navarre, France, and to the Crusader
king of Jerusalem; as well as those of several of the sons of
Edward III. There are also several sacred devices, including
the coronation by our Lord of St. Mary, and, in addition,
nearly the whole of the Te Deum in Latin, and a number of
quotations from the Antiphons at Matins and Lauds from the
Sarum Antiphoner. This discovery, which is entirely due to
the work of restoration, it is impossible to estimate too highly.
Among lesser ' finds ' may be mentioned the two pit1; for heart-
burial, one in the Lady Chapel and the other in the south
transept : both have been most carefully preserved."
Of the entire work of restoration, reparation, or -whatever we
may call it, I may say that it has been replete with the most
1 important discoveries ; that it has been characterized by the
most studious conservatism; that it has saved the building
from destruction ; and that it is gradually fitting it for its
advance to the rank of a cathedral, without the loss of any
object of antiquity. '•-,
Passing over a number of less important matters, we will
now proceed to Canterbury Cathedral.
Mr. Loftie introduces the subject by giving an account of
all the things done to the Cathedral for the last half-century,
including the erection of the south-west tower, whicb, with the

432 Appendix.
reparation of its fellow tower, he mysteriously describes as
being " in the style how universally recognized as that of
Camberwell ;" an expression I do not understand, unless it be
a moans of connecting it with myself, I having, thirty-five years
back, built a church at Camberwell, though as far as possible
from being in the style of this tower. I beg, however, to clear
the ground by saying that I have never carried out any structural
work in connexion with Canterbury Cathedral. The question at
issue, however, relates to the proposed refitting of the choir,
and I have elsewhere stated it as follows : —
We do not know what were the fittings of the choir at
Canterbury after its restoration in nSo. Very probably they
were only temporary. " We have, however, records of their
having been renewed by Prior De Estria about 1304. He
is especially said to have decorated the choir with beautiful
stonework, a new pulpitum (or rood loft), and three doorways.
The fittings, &c, then introduced continued undisturbed till
after the great Rebellion. It is probable that they had been
much injured during that period; and we find that Archbishop
Tenison, in 1702, removed all the old stallworkj concealed
the beautiful side screens of De Estria .by classic wainscoting;
and substituted pewing, for the. side stalls; but, to the. west,
erected. new return stalls with very rich canopies, concealing
entirely the pulpitum or rood screen of De Estria. The
wainscoting of the sides was removed about 1828, leaving the
pewing backed up by De Estria's side screens. The Dean
and Chapter now desire to substitute for these pews as near a
reproduction as may be of De Estria's stalls. We have found
parts of them below the flooring, and trust to find other
fragments from which their pattern may be recovered. The
difficulty, however, is with the western or return stalls : for
behind them we find De Estria's pulpitum or rood screen with
its original and rich colouring, apparently complete, except
ing the stone canopies of the Priors' and Sub- Priors' stalls,
which were rudely hewn off when Tenison's stalls were erected.
We want to preserve both the stalls and the more ancient
objects which they conceal. I love Tenison's stalls well, but
I love De Estria's pulpitum more. Some probably take the
contrary view. Why should not both be gratified ? "
Now this is a very fair subject for discussion and difference
of opinion; and the more so as this is practically " Queen

Appendix. 433
Anne " work, and to the special lovers of that style its removal •
would naturally be exasperating. For myself I do not in the
least degree wish its removal on account of any discrepancy
between it and the surrounding architecture, Some have gone
so far as that ; for my part I have no sympathy with that feel
ing, but the reverse. My own leanings entirely arose from my
excitement at the discovery (or re-discovery) of De Estria's
pulpitum, hidden behind Tenison's stalls, which I do not hesi
tate to say filled me -with an enthusiasm with which the de
votees of Queen Anne cannot be expected to sympathize.
That work is described by those who desire to minimize it as
small in quantity and greatly mutilated. I have devoted much
time to it, and have to state that it is almost entire, having
only suffered from the mercilessness of Archbishop Tenison's
workmen, who, while putting up the stalls, chopped away the"
two canopies and much of the mouldings of the central door
way. The necessity for restoring the inner face of the side
screens in 1828, when Tenison's wainscoting was removed, no
doubt arose from its like barbarous treatment by the same men.
It is droll to find the enthusiastic advocates of the style of the
last century arguing, from the havoc made in older work by
their demi-gods, that it is hopeless, to the extent of being
beneath contempt, to try to recover the older work from their
depredations. Putting, however, such considerations aside, the simple ques
tion is this _ having a Queen Anne work placed in front of a
mediaeval work, each possessing its own class of merit, ought
we to be content with seeing one, or ought we to endeavour to
render both visible ? I have taken the latter view, and have sug
gested that a worthy position should be sought for Tenison's
work, and that the choir screen, — the " pulpitum " of Prior de
Estria — -should be exposed to view. Mr. Loftie has spoken of
this idea as " a new design by Sir Gilbert Scott founded on a
fragment." He speaks of " the. portion of it already restored
behind the altar" (which does not exist), and says "could we be.
certified that the stone screen exists intact behind the panel
ling, we might hesitate. But nothing of the kind is asserted.
A small portion only remains, and from it an eminent architect
is prepared to reconstruct the whole." He has elsewhere de
scribed what is proposed as "modern work in imitation of some
fragments of a stone screen of the fourteenth century." Mr.
Ff ,

434 Appendix.
Morris speaks of it as "Sir Gilbert Scott's conjectural restora
tion," and again, as " the proposed imitation, restoration, or
forgery of Prior Eastry's rather commonplace tracery."
The facts are that the old screen, or " pulpitum," remains
throughout its extent in very fair condition, with its ancient
colouring. nearly complete and exceedingly beautiful. It is true
that the barbarous mutilations made in putting up Tenison's
work have left a few parts in some degree to conjecture ; but
the evidences left in situ, aided, it may be fairly hoped, by frag
ments still to be found, will probably bring these exceptional
parts into the region of certainty, just as the discovery of the
two thousand fragments of the shrine of St. Alban led to the
re-erection of that structure without a jot or tittle of new work
or a single modicum of conjecture. Anyhow, what is aimed
at is the exposure to view of- an actually existant and ancient
work — not its restoration, for, with few exceptions, it is there.
Another reason in favour of exposing to view this fine old
work is that Canterbury differed from many other cathedrals in
having no canopied stalls excepting those of the two great
dignitaries. In this it agreed with the sister (or daughter)
cathedral at Rochester, where we have evidences of the same
arrangement. Tenison altered this, by adding canopies to all
the returned stalls, and thus ignored the traditions of the building.
It is the fashion of the critics to under-ratc the screenwork
of De Estria, but I find Professor Willis describing it (the
side screens — he never saw the western one) as consisting of
" delicate and elaborately worked tracery," and again saying of
it, " the entire work is particularly valuable on account of its
well-established date, combined with its great beauty and
singularity." Pie also speaks of " the beautiful stone enclosure
of the choir, the greatest part of which still remains.'' The
ancient obituary of Prior De Estria calls it " most beautiful
stonework delicately carved."
Those who seek to under-rate it also try to make the most
of the restorations which followed the removal of the wainscot
work in r82S; but Professor Willis speaks of it as "in excellent
order." Mr. Parker tells us that he saw and studied the screen
work when unrestored, and speaks of it as " a very beautiful
piece of fourteenth-century work." No doubt it suffered much
from the reparation of. Tenison's mutilations, but if these
authorities speak so strongly of its present beauty, what would

Appendix. 435
they say to the parts still concealed which have never been
touched by reparation ? Some parts of the side screens them
selves retain their ancient colouring, so that even they cannot
be so far gone from their old state as is described.
Mr. Loftie, in one of his letters, says " that very little is left
of the construction of Canterbury Cathedral older than the-
present reign " (!) but Mr. Morris's fear is that " before long
we shall see the noble building of the two Williams [of the
twelfth century] confused and falsified by the usual mass of
ecclesiastical trumpery and coarse daubing." Let him be
assured that, whether it be of the twelfth or nineteenth cen
tury, there is no idea, of touching it : on the contrary, in my
paper read before the Institute of Architects in 1862, the
following passage occurs, and the principles there advocated
for the exterior may be supposed equally to actuate us in deal
ing with the interior : —
" Imagine for one moment, by way of illustration, that un
equalled 'history in stone,' the eastern half of Canterbury
Cathedral, so admirably described and unfolded by Professor
Willis, if the hand of undiscriminating restoration had passed
over it : the works of Lanfranc, of Conrad, of William of
Sens, and of the English William, whose intricate inter-
minglings now form a history at once so perplexingly entangled"
and so charmingly disentangled; and which together present the
very best illustration existing in this country of the changes of
architectural detail from the Conquest to the full establishment
of Pointed architecture; and which must ever form the very text
book of the architectural history of that period, as being at once
the most perfect in its steps, the most completely chronicled,
and the most admirably deciphered. Imagine, I would say, this
treasury of art-history reduced to an unmeaning blank by the
hand of the restorer, either all indiscriminately renewed, or one
half renewed and the other scraped over to look like it ; the
coarsely-axed work of the early Norman mason, the finer hew
ing of his successor, and the delicate chiselling of the third
period, all scraped down to the- semblance of the new work by
the same undiscriminating drag, or replaced by new masonry,
uniting all periods into one, or else making a mimic copy of
their distinguishing characteristics ! I take an extreme imagi
nary illustration, because the work in question, as it remains in
its authenticity, forming the most precious page of our archi-

436 i Appendix.
tecliiral history, is so well known as to place the principle I
am speaking of in a clearer light than if I took a less marked
example." This Canterbury question is, however, as I have before said,
a fair- subject- for fair discussion; and I will add no more than
this — that, while I heartily sympathize with the new movement
for the preservation of ancient monuments in its leading aims,
I must protest against its being carried to the length of leaving
our ancient buildings to fall into ruin, or to retain (in all cases)
the effects of mutilation, disfigurement, and decay. And, as
quite a secondary objection, I would venture respectfully to
suggest that the legitimate aims of the movement are hardly
likely to be furthered by overstatement or misrepresentation.
George Gilbert Scott.
P.S. — It is rather comical to think how much more is said
about moving Gibbons's returned stalls — if indeed they be
Gibbons's — from the position they were made for at Canter
bury, than about the removal of his corresponding stalls from
the position they were made for -at St. Paul's. This may,
however, be accounted for on the ground of the latter being a
fait accompli ; but what will be said to spending 40,000/. on
obliterating' ThornhiU's paintings in the dome of St. Paul's in
favour of mosaics of our own day, though arranged and directed
by a " Committee of Taste " ?

YALE

V^

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YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY

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