<h1>VI <br/> THE BOOK OF THE ARTS AND POPULAR EDUCATION.</h1>
<p>The most important portion of the history of the Thirteenth Century
and beyond all doubt the most significant chapter in the book of its
arts, is to be found in the great Gothic Cathedrals, so many of which
were erected at this time and whose greatest perfection of finish in
design and in detail came just at the beginning of this wonderful
period. We are not concerned here with the gradual development of
Gothic out of the older Romanesque architectural forms, nor with the
Oriental elements that may have helped this great evolution. All that
especially concerns us is the fact that the generations of the
Thirteenth Century took the Gothic ideas in architecture and applied
them so marvelously, that thereafter it could be felt that no problem
of structural work had been left unsolved and no feature of ornament
or decoration left untried or at least unsuggested. The great center
of Gothic influence was the North of France, but it spread from here
to every country in Europe, and owing to the intimate relations
existing between England and France because of the presence of the
Normans in both countries, developed almost as rapidly and with as
much beauty, and effectiveness as in the mother country.</p>
<p>It is in fact in England just before the Thirteenth Century, that the
spirit which gave rise to the Cathedrals can be best observed at work
and its purposes most thoroughly appreciated. The great Cathedral at
Lincoln had some of its most important features before the beginning
of the Thirteenth Century and this was doubtless due to the famous St.
Hugh of Lincoln, who was a Frenchman by birth and whose experience in
Normandy in early life enabled him successfully to set about the
creation of a Gothic Cathedral in the country that had become his by
adoption.</p>
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<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp096.jpg" border=1><br/>
ANGEL CHOIR (LINCOLN)</p>
<p>Hugh himself was so great of soul, so deeply interested in his people
and their welfare, so ready to make every sacrifice for them even to
the extent of incurring the enmity of his King (even Froude usually so
unsympathetic to medieval men and things has included him among his
Short Studies of Great Subjects), that one cannot help but think that
when he devoted himself to the erection of the magnificent Cathedral,
he realized very well that it would become a center of influence, not
only religious but eminently educational, in its effects upon the
people of his diocese. The work was begun then with a consciousness of
the results to be attained and the influence of the Cathedral must not
be looked upon as accidental. He must have appreciated that the
creating of a work of beauty in which the people themselves shared,
which they looked on as their own property, to which they came nearly
every second day during the year for religious services, would be a
telling book out of which they would receive more education than could
come to them in any other way.</p>
<p>Of course we cannot hope in a short chapter or two to convey any
adequate impression of the work that was done in and for the
Cathedrals, nor the even more important reactionary influence they had
in educating the people. Ferguson says: [Footnote 9 ]</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 9: Ferguson—History of Architecture. N. Y., Dodd, Mead &
Co.]</p>
<p class="cite">
"The subject of the cathedrals, their architecture and decoration
is, in fact, practicably inexhaustible. . . . Priests and laymen
worked with masons, painters, and sculptors, and all were bent on
producing the best possible building, and improving every part and
every detail, till the amount of thought and contrivance accumulated
in any single structure is almost incomprehensible. If any one man
were to devote a lifetime to the study of one of our great
cathedrals—assuming it to be complete in all its medieval
arrangements—it is questionable whether he would master all its
details, and fathom all the reasonings and experiments which led to
the glorious result before him. And when we consider that not in the
great cities alone, but in every convent and in every parish,
thoughtful professional men were trying to excel what had been done
and was doing, by their predecessors and their fellows, we shall
understand what an amount of thought is built into the walls of
our churches, castles, colleges, and dwelling houses. If any one
thinks he can master and reproduce all this, he can hardly fail to
be mistaken. My own impression is that not one tenth part of it has
been reproduced in all the works written on the subject up to this
day, and much of it is probably lost and never again to be recovered
for the instruction and delight of future ages."</p>
<p>This profound significance and charming quality of the cathedrals is
usually unrecognized by those who see them only once or twice, and
who, though they are very much interested in them for the moment, have
no idea of the wealth of artistic suggestion and of thoughtful design
so solicitously yet happily put into them by their builders. People
who have seen them many times, however, who have lived in close touch
with them, who have been away from them for a time and have come back
to them, find the wondrous charm that is in these buildings.
Architects and workmen put their very souls into them and they will
always be of interest. It is for this reason, that the casual visitor
at all times and in all moods finds them ever a source of constantly
renewed pleasure, no matter how many times they may be seen.</p>
<p>Elizabeth Robbins Pennell has expressed this power of Cathedrals to
please at all times, even after they have been often seen and are very
well known, in a recent number of the <i>Century</i>, in describing the
great Cathedral of Notre Dame, "Often as I have seen Notre Dame," she
says, "the marvel of it never grows less. I go to Paris with no
thought of time for it, busy about many other things and then on my
way over one of the bridges across the river perhaps, I see it again
on its island, the beautiful towers high above the houses and palaces
and the view now so familiar strikes me afresh with all the wonder of
my first impression."</p>
<p>This is we think the experience of everyone who has the opportunity to
see much of Notre Dame. The present writer during the course of his
medical studies spent many months in daily view of the Cathedral and
did a good deal of work at the old Morgue, situated behind the
Cathedral. Even at the end of his stay he was constantly finding new
beauties in the grand old structure and learning to appreciate it
more and more as the changing seasons of a Paris fall and winter and
spring, threw varying lights and shadows over it. It was like a work
of nature, never growing old, but constantly displaying some new phase
of beauty to the passers-by. Mrs. Pennell resents only the
restorations that have been made. Generations down even to our time
have considered that they could rebuild as beautifully as the
Thirteenth Century constructors; some of them even have thought that
they could do better, doubtless, yet their work has in the opinion of
good critics served only to spoil or at least to detract from the
finer beauty of the original plan. No wonder that R. M. Stevenson, who
knew and loved the old Cathedral so well, said: "Notre Dame is the
only un-Greek thing that unites majesty, elegance, and awfulness."
Inasmuch as it does so it is a typical product of this wonderful
Thirteenth Century, the only serious rival the Greeks have ever had.
But of course it does not stand alone. There are other Cathedrals
built at the same time at least as handsome and as full of
suggestions. Indeed in the opinion of many critics it is inferior in
certain respects to some three or four of the greatest Gothic
Cathedrals.</p>
<p>It cannot be possible that these generations builded so much better
than they knew, that it is only by a sort of happy accident that their
edifices still continue to be the subject of such profound admiration,
and such endless sources of pleasure after seven centuries of
experience. If so we would certainly be glad to have some such happy
accident occur in our generation, for we are building nothing at the
present time with regard to which we have any such high hopes. Of
course the generations of Cathedral builders knew and appreciated
their own work. The triumph of the Thirteenth Century is therefore all
the more marked and must be considered as directly due to the
environment and the education of its people. We have then in the study
of their Cathedrals the keynote for the modern appreciation of the
character and the development of their builders.</p>
<p>It will be readily understood, how inevitably fragmentary must be our
consideration of the Cathedrals, yet there is the consolation that
they are the best known feature of Thirteenth Century
achievement and that consequently all that will be necessary will be
to point out the significance of their construction as the basis of
the great movement of education and uplift in the century. Perhaps
first a word is needed with regard to the varieties of Gothic in the
different countries of Europe and what they meant in the period.</p>
<p>Probably, the most interesting feature of the history of Gothic
architecture, at this period, is to be found in the circumstance that,
while all of the countries erected Gothic structures along the general
lines which had been laid down by its great inventors in the North and
Center of France, none of the architects and builders of the century,
in other countries, slavishly followed the French models. English
Gothic is quite distinct from its French ancestor, and while it has
defects it has beauties, that are all its own, and a simplicity and
grandeur, well suited to the more rugged character of the people among
whom it developed. Italian Gothic has less merits, perhaps, than any
of the other forms of the art that developed in the different nations.
In Italy, with its bright sunlight, there was less crying need for the
window space, for the provision of which, in the darker northern
countries, Gothic was invented, but, even here the possibilities of
decorated architecture along certain lines were exhausted more fully
than anywhere else, as might have been expected from the esthetic
spirit of the Italians. German Gothic has less refinement than any of
the other national forms, yet it is not lacking in a certain
straightforward strength and simplicity of appearance, which
recommends it. The Germans often violated the French canons of
architecture, yet did not spoil the ultimate effect. St. Stephen's in
Vienna has many defects, yet as a good architectural authority has
declared it is the work of a poet, and looks it.</p>
<p>A recent paragraph with regard to Spanish Gothic in an article on
Spain, by Havelock Ellis, illustrates the national qualities of this
style very well. As much less is generally known about the special
development of Gothic architecture in the Spanish peninsula, it has
seemed worth while to quote it at some length:</p>
<p class="cite">
"Moreover, there is no type of architecture which so admirably
embodies the romantic spirit as Spanish Gothic. Such a statement
implies no heresy against the supremacy of French Gothic. But the
very qualities of harmony and balance of finely tempered reason,
which make French Gothic so exquisitely satisfying, softened the
combination of mysteriously grandiose splendor with detailed
realism, in which lies the essence of Gothic as the manifestation of
the romantic spirit. Spanish Gothic at once by its massiveness and
extravagance and by its realistic naturalness, far more potently
embodies the spirit of medieval life. It is less esthetically
beautiful but it is more romantic. In Leon Cathedral, Spain
possesses one of the very noblest and purest examples of French
Gothic—a church which may almost be said to be the supreme type of
the Gothic ideal, of a delicate house of glass finely poised between
buttresses; but there is nothing Spanish about it. For the typical
Gothic of Spain we must go to Toledo and Burgos, to Tarragona and
Barcelona. Here we find the elements of stupendous size, of
mysterious gloom, of grotesque and yet realistic energy, which are
the dominant characters, alike of Spanish architecture and of
medieval romance."</p>
<p>Those who think that the Gothic architecture came to a perfection all
its own by a sort of wonderful manifestation of genius in a single
generation, and then stayed there, are sadly mistaken. There was a
constant development to be noted all during the Thirteenth Century.
This development was always in the line of true improvement, while
just after the century closed degeneration began, decoration became
too important a consideration, parts were over-loaded with ornament,
and the decadence of taste in Gothic architecture cannot escape the
eye even of the most untutored. All during the Thirteenth Century the
tendency was always to greater lightness and elegance. One is apt to
think of these immense structures as manifestations of the power of
man to overcome great engineering difficulties and to solve immense
structural problems, rather than as representing opportunities for the
expression of what was most beautiful and poetic in the intellectual
aspirations of the generations. But this is what they were, and their
architects were poets, for in the best sense of the etymology of
the word they were creators. That their raw material was stone and
mortar rather than words was only an accident of their environment.
Each of the architects succeeded in expressing himself with wonderful
individuality in his own work in each Cathedral.</p>
<p>The improvements introduced by the Thirteenth Century people into the
architecture that came to them, were all of a very practical kind, and
were never suggested for the sake of merely adding to opportunities
for ornamentation. In this matter, skillful combinations of line and
form were thought out and executed with wonderful success. At the
beginning of the century, delicate shafts of marble, highly polished,
were employed rather freely, but as these seldom carried weight, and
were mainly ornamental in character, they were gradually eliminated,
yet, without sacrificing any of the beauty of structure since
combinations of light and shade were secured by the composition of
various forms, and the use of delicately rounded mouldings alternated
with hollows, so as to produce forcible effects in high light and deep
shadow. In a word, these architects and builders, of the Thirteenth
Century, set themselves the problem of building effectively, making
every portion count in the building itself, and yet, securing
ornamental effects out of actual structure such as no other set of
architects have ever been able to surpass, and, probably, only the
Greek architects of the Periclean period ever equaled. Needless to
say, this is the very acme of success in architectural work, and it is
for this reason that the generations of the after time have all gone
back so lovingly to study the work of this period.</p>
<p>It might be thought, that while Gothic architecture was a great
invention in its time and extremely suitable for ecclesiastical or
even educational edifices of various kinds, its time of usefulness has
passed and that men's widening experience in structural work, ever
since, has carried him far away from it. As a matter of fact, most of
our ecclesiastical buildings are still built on purely Gothic lines,
and a definite effort is made, as a rule, to have the completed
religious edifice combine a number of the best features of Thirteenth
Century Gothic. With what success this has been accomplished can
best be appreciated from the fact, that none of the modern structures
attract anything like the attention of the old, and the Cathedrals of
this early time still continue to be the best asset of the towns in
which they are situated, because of the number of visitors they
attract. Far from considering Gothic architecture outlived, architects
still apply themselves to it with devotion because of the practical
suggestions which it contains, and there are those of wide experience,
who still continue to think it the most wonderful example of
architectural development that has ever come, and even do not hesitate
to foretell a great future for it.</p>
<p>Reinach, in his Story of Art Throughout the Ages, [Footnote 10] has
been so enthusiastic in this matter that a paragraph of his opinion
must find a place here. Reinach, it may be said, is an excellent
authority, a member of the Institute of France, who has made special
studies in comparative architecture, and has written works that carry
more weight than almost any others of our generation:</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 10: Scribners, New York, 1905.]</p>
<p class="cite">
"If the aim of architecture, considered as an art, should be to free
itself as much as possible from subjection to its materials, it may
be said that no buildings have more successfully realized this ideal
than the Gothic churches. And there is more to be said in this
connection. Its light and airy system of construction, the freedom
and slenderness of its supporting skeleton, afford, as it were, a
presage of an art that began to develop in the Nineteenth Century,
that of metallic architecture. With the help of metal, and of cement
reinforced by metal bars, the moderns might equal the most daring
feats of the Gothic architects. It would even be easy for them to
surpass them, without endangering the solidity of the structure, as
did the audacities of Gothic art. In the conflicts that obtain
between the two elements of construction, solidity and open space,
everything seems to show that the principle of free spaces will
prevail, that the palaces and houses of the future will be flooded
with air and light, that the formula popularized by Gothic
architecture has a great future before it, and that following the
revival of the Graeco-Roman style from the Sixteenth Century,
to our own day, we shall see a yet more enduring renaissance of the
Gothic style applied to novel materials."</p>
<p>It would be a mistake, however, to think that the Gothic Cathedrals
were impressive only because of their grandeur and immense size. It
would be still more a mistake to consider them only as examples of a
great development in architecture. They are much more than this; they
are the compendious expression of the art impulses of a glorious
century. Every single detail of the Gothic Cathedrals is not only
worthy of study but deserving of admiration, if not for itself, then
always for the inadequate means by which it was secured, and most of
these details have been found worthy of imitation by subsequent
generations. It is only by considering the separate details of the art
work of these Cathedrals that the full lesson of what these wonderful
people accomplished can be learned. There have been many centuries
since, in which they would be entirely unappreciated. Fortunately, our
own time has come back to a recognition of the greatness of the art
impulse that was at work, perfecting even what might be considered
trivial portions of the cathedrals, and the brightest hope for the
future of our own accomplishment is founded on this belated
appreciation of old-time work.</p>
<p>It has been said that the medieval workman was a lively symbol of the
Creator Himself, in the way in which he did his work. It mattered not
how obscure the portion of the cathedral at which he was set, he
decorated it as beautifully as he knew how, without a thought that his
work would be appreciated only by the very few that might see it.
Trivial details were finished with the perfection of important parts.
Microscopic studies in recent years have revealed beautiful designs on
pollen grains and diatoms which are far beneath the possibilities of
human vision, and have only been discovered by lens combinations of
very high powers of the compound microscope. Always these beauties
have been there though hidden away from any eye. It was as if the
Creator's hand could not touch anything without leaving it beautiful
as well as useful.</p>
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<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp105.jpg" border=1><br/>
CATHEDRAL (AMIENS)</p>
<p>To as great extent as it is possible perhaps for man to secure such a
desideratum, the Thirteenth Century workman succeeded in this same
purpose. It is for this reason more than even for the magnificent
grandeur of the design and the skilful execution with inadequate
means, that makes the Gothic Cathedral such a source of admiration and
wonder.</p>
<p>To take first the example of sculpture. It is usually considered that
the Thirteenth Century represented a time entirely too early in the
history of plastic art for there to have been any fine examples of the
sculptor's chisel left us from it. Any such impression, however, will
soon be corrected if one but examines carefully the specimens of this
form of art in certain Cathedrals. As we have said, probably no more
charmingly dignified presentation of the human form divine in stone
has ever been made than the figure of Christ above the main door of
the cathedral of Amiens, which the Amiennois so lovingly call their
"beautiful God." There are some other examples of statuary in the same
cathedral that are wonderful specimens of the sculptor's art, lending
itself for decorative purposes to architecture. This is true for a
number of the Cathedrals. The statues in themselves are not so
beautiful, but as portions of a definite piece of structural work such
as a doorway or a facade, they are wonderful models of how all the
different arts became subservient to the general effect to be
produced. It was at Rheims, however, that sculpture reached its acme
of accomplishment, and architects have been always unstinted in their
praise of this feature of what may be called the Capitol church of
France.</p>
<p>Those who have any doubts as to the place of Gothic art itself in art
history and who need an authority always to bolster up the opinion
that they may hold, will find ample support in the enthusiastic
opinion of an authority whom we have quoted already. The most
interesting and significant feature of his ardent expression of
enthusiasm is his comparison of Romanesque with Gothic art in this
respect. The amount of ground covered from one artistic mode to the
other is greater than any other advance in art that has ever been
made. After all, the real value of the work of the period must be
judged, rather by the amount of progress that has been made than
by the stage of advance actually reached, since it is development
rather than accomplishment that counts in the evolution of the race.
On the other hand it will be found that Reinach's opinion of the
actual attainments of Gothic art are far beyond anything that used to
be thought on the subject a half century ago, and much higher than any
but a few of the modern art critics hold in the matter. He says:</p>
<p class="cite">
"In contrast to this Romanesque art, as yet in bondage to
convention, ignorant or disdainful of nature, the mature Gothic art
of the Thirteenth Century appeared as a brilliant revival or
realism. The great sculptors who adorned the Cathedrals of Paris,
Amiens, Rheims, and Chartres with their works, were realists in the
highest sense of the word. They sought in Nature not only their
knowledge of human forms, and of the draperies that cover them, but
also that of the principles of decoration. Save in the gargoyles of
cathedrals and in certain minor sculptures, we no longer find in the
Thirteenth Century those unreal figures of animals, nor those
ornaments, complicated as nightmares, which load the capitals of
Romanesque churches; the flora of the country, studied with loving
attention, is the sole, or almost the sole source from which
decorators take their motives. It is in this charming profusion of
flowers and foliage that the genius of Gothic architecture is most
freely displayed. One of the most admirable of its creations is the
famous Capital of the Vintage in Notre Dame at Rheims, carved about
the year 1250. Since the first century of the Roman Empire art had
never imitated Nature so perfectly, nor has it ever since done so
with a like grace and sentiment."</p>
<p>Reinach defends Gothic Art from another and more serious objection
which is constantly urged against it by those who know only certain
examples of it, but have not had the advantage of the wide study of
the whole field of artistic endeavor in the Thirteenth Century, which
this distinguished member of the Institute of France has succeeded in
obtaining. It is curious what unfounded opinions have come to be
prevalent in art circles because, only too often, writers with regard
to the Cathedrals have spent their time mainly in the large cities, or
along the principal arteries of travel, and have not realized
that some of the smaller towns contained work better fitted to
illustrate Gothic Art principles than those on which they depended for
their information. If only particular phases of the art of any one
time, no matter how important, were to be considered in forming a
judgment of it, that judgment would almost surely be unfavorable in
many ways because of the lack of completeness of view. This is what
has happened unfortunately with regard to Gothic art, but a better
spirit is coming in this matter, with the more careful study of
periods of art and the return of reverence for the grand old Middle
Ages.</p>
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<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp107.jpg" border=1><br/>
CATHEDRAL (RHEIMS)</p>
<p>Reinach says: "There are certain prejudices against this admirable,
though incomplete, art which it is difficult to combat. It is often
said, for instance, that all Gothic figures are stiff and emaciated.
To convince ourselves of the contrary we need only study the marvelous
sculpture of the meeting between Abraham and Melchisedech, in Rheims
Cathedral; or again in the same Cathedral, the Visitation, the seated
Prophet, and the standing Angel, or the exquisite Magdalen of Bordeaux
Cathedral. What can we see in these that is stiff, sickly, and puny?
The art that has most affinity with perfect Gothic is neither
Romanesque nor Byzantine, but the Greek art of from 500 to 450 B. C.
By a strange coincidence, the Gothic artists even reproduce the
somewhat stereotyped smile of their forerunners." Usually it is said
that the Renaissance brought the supreme qualities of Greek plastic
art back to life, but here is a thoroughly competent critic who finds
them exhibited long before the Fifteenth Century, as a manifestation
of what the self-sufficient generations of the Renaissance would have
called Gothic, meaning thereby, barbarous art.</p>
<p>What has been said of sculpture, however, can be repeated with even
more force perhaps with regard to every detail of construction and
decoration. Builders and architects did make mistakes at times, but,
even their mistakes always reveal an artist's soul struggling for
expression through inadequate media. Many things had to be done
experimentally, most things were being done for the first time.
Everything had an originality of its own that made its execution
something more than merely a secure accomplishment after previous
careful tests. In spite of this state of affairs, which might be
expected sadly to interfere with artistic execution, the Cathedrals,
in the main, are full of admirable details not only worthy of
imitation, but that our designers are actually imitating or at least
finding eminently suggestive at the present time.</p>
<p>To begin with a well known example of decorative effect which is found
in the earliest of the English Cathedrals, that of Lincoln. The nave
and choir of this was finished just at the beginning of the Thirteenth
Century. The choir is so beautiful in its conception, so wonderful in
its construction, so charming in its finish, so satisfactory in all
its detail, though there is very little of what would be called
striving after effect in it, that it is still called the Angel Choir.</p>
<p>The name was originally given it because it was considered to be so
beautiful even during the Thirteenth Century, that visitors could
scarcely believe that it was constructed by human hands and so the
legend became current that it was the work of angels. If the critics
of the Thirteenth Century, who had the opportunity to see work of
nearly the same kind being constructed in many parts of England,
judged thus highly of it, it is not surprising that modern visitors
should be unstinted in their praise. It is interesting to note as
representative of the feeling of a cultured modern scientific mind
that Dr. Osler said not long ago, in one of his medical addresses,
that probably nothing more beautiful had ever come from the hands of
man than this Angel Choir at Lincoln. As to who were the designers,
who conceived it, or the workmen who executed it, we have no records.
It is not unlikely that the famous Hugh of Lincoln, the great Bishop
to whom the Cathedral owes its foundation and much of its splendor,
was responsible to no little extent for this beautiful feature of his
Cathedral church. The workmen who made it were artist-artisans in the
best sense of the word and it is not surprising that other beautiful
architectural features should have flourished in a country where such
workmen could be found.</p>
<p>Almost as impressive as the Angel Choir was the stained glass work at
Lincoln. The rose windows are among the most beautiful ever made and
one of them is indeed considered a gem of its kind. The beautiful
colors and wonderful effectiveness of the stained glass of these
old time Cathedrals cannot be appreciated unless the windows
themselves are actually seen. At Lincoln there is a very impressive
contrast that one can scarcely help calling to attention and that has
been very frequently the subject of comment by visitors. During the
Parliamentary time, unfortunately, the stained glass at Lincoln fell
under the ban of the Puritans. The lower windows were almost
completely destroyed by the soldiers of Cromwell's army. Only the rose
windows owing to their height were preserved from the destroyer. There
was an old sexton at the Cathedral, however, for whom the stained
glass had become as the apple of his eye. As boy and man he had lived
in its beautiful colors as they broke the light of the rising and the
setting sun and they were too precious to be neglected even when lying
upon the pavement of the Cathedral in fragments. He gathered the
shattered pieces into bags and hid them away in a dark corner of the
crypt, saving them at least from the desecration of being trampled to
dust.</p>
<p>Long afterwards, indeed almost in our own time, they were found here
and were seen to be so beautiful that regardless of the fact that they
could not be fitted together in anything like their former places,
they were pieced into windows and made to serve their original purpose
once more. It so happened that new stained glass windows for the
Cathedral of Lincoln were ordered during the Nineteenth Century. These
were made at an unfortunate time in stained glass making and are as
nearly absolutely unattractive, to say nothing worse, as it is
possible to make stained glass. The contrast with the antique windows,
fragmentary as they are, made up of the broken pieces of Thirteenth
Century glass is most striking. The old time colors are so rich that
when the sun shines directly on them they look like jewels. No one
pays the slightest attention, unless perhaps the doubtful compliment
of a smile be given, to the modern windows which were, however, very
costly and the best that could be obtained at that time.</p>
<p>More of the stained glass of the Thirteenth Century is preserved at
York where, because of the friendship of General Ireton, the town and
the Cathedral were spared the worst ravages of the Parliamentarians.
As a consequence York still possesses some of the best of its
old time windows. It is probable that there is nothing more beautiful
or wonderful in its effectiveness than the glass in the Five Sisters
window at York. This is only an ordinary lancet window of five
compartments—hence the name—in the west front of the Cathedral.
There are no figures on the window, it is only a mass of beautiful
greyish green tints which marvelously subdues the western setting sun
at the vesper hour and produces the most beautiful effects in the
interior of the Cathedral. Here if anywhere one can realize the
meaning of the expression dim religious light. In recent years,
however, it has become the custom for so many people to rave over the
Five Sisters that we are spared the necessity of more than mentioning
it. Its tints far from being injured by time have probably been
enriched. There can be no doubt at all, however, of the artistic
tastes and esthetic genius of the man who designed it. The other
windows of the Cathedral were not unworthy of this triumph of art. How
truly the Cathedral was a Technical School can be appreciated from the
fact that it was able to inspire such workmen to produce these
wondrous effects.</p>
<p>Experts in stained glass work have often called attention to the fact
that the windows constructed in the Thirteenth Century were not only
of greater artistic value but were also more solidly put together.
Many of the windows made in the century still maintain their places,
in spite of the passage of time, though later windows are sometimes
dropping to pieces. It might be thought that this was due to the fact
that later stained glass workers were more delicate in the
construction of their windows in order not to injure the effect of the
stained glass. To some extent this is true, but the stained glass
workers of the Thirteenth Century preserve the effectiveness of their
artistic pictures in glass, though making the frame work very
substantial. This is only another example of their ability to combine
the useful with the beautiful so characteristic of the century,
stamping practically every phase of its accomplishment and making
their work more admirable because its usefulness does not suffer on
account of any strained efforts after supposed beauties.</p>
<p>Though it is somewhat out of place here we cannot refrain from
pointing out the educational value of this stained glass work.</p>
<p>Some of the stories on these windows gave details of many passages
from the Bible, that must have impressed them upon the people much
more than any sermon or reading of the text could possibly have
accomplished. They were literally sermons in glass that he who walked
by had to read whether he would or not. When we remember that the
common people in the Middle Ages had no papers to distract them, and
no books to turn to for information, such illustrations as were
provided by the stained glass windows, by the painting and the
statuary decorations of the Cathedrals, must have been studied with
fondest devotion even apart from religious sentiment and out of mere
inquisitiveness. The famous "prodigal" window at Chartres is a good
example of this. Every detail of the story is here pictorially
displayed in colors, from the time when the young man demands his
patrimony through all the various temptations he met with in being
helped to spend it, there being a naive richness of detail in the
matter of the temptations that is quite medieval, from the boon
companions who first led him astray to the depths of degradation which
he finally reached before he returned to his father,—even the picture
of the fatted calf is not lacking.</p>
<p>On others of these windows there are the stories of the Patron Saints
of certain crafts. The life of St. Crispin the shoemaker is given in
rather full detail. The same is true of St. Romain the hunter who was
the patron of the furriers. The most ordinary experiences of life are
pictured and the methods by which these were turned to account in
making the craftsman a saint, must have been in many ways an ideally
uplifting example for fellow craftsmen whenever they viewed the
window. This sort of teaching could not be without its effect upon the
poor. It taught them that there was something else in life besides
money getting and that happiness and contentment might be theirs in a
chosen occupation and the reward of Heaven at the end of it all, for
at the top of these windows the hand of the Almighty is introduced
reaching down from Heaven to reward his faithful servants. It is just
by such presentation of ideals even to the poor, that the
Thirteenth Century differs from the modern time in which even the
teaching in the schools seems only to emphasize the fact that men must
get money, honestly if they can, but must get money, if they would
have what is called success in life.</p>
<p>Another very interesting feature of these windows is the fact that
they were usually the gifts of the various Guilds and so represented
much more of interest, for the members. It is true that in France,
particularly, the monarchs frequently presented stained glass windows
and in St. Louis time this was so common that scarcely a French
Cathedral was without one or more testimonials of this kind to his
generosity; but most of the windows were given by various societies
among the people themselves. How much the construction of such a
window when it was well done, would make for the education in taste of
those who contributed to the expense of its erection, can scarcely be
over-estimated. There was besides a friendly rivalry in this matter in
the Thirteenth Century, which served to bring out the talents of local
artists and by the inevitably suggested comparisons eventually served
to educate the taste of the people.</p>
<p>It must not be thought, however, that it was only in stained glass and
painting and sculpture—the major arts—that these workmen attained
their triumphs. Practically every detail of Cathedral construction is
a monument to the artistic genius of the century, to the wonderful
inspiration afforded the workmen and to the education provided by the
Guilds which really maintained, as we shall see, a kind of Technical
School with the approbation and the fostering care of the
ecclesiastics connected with the Cathedrals. An excellent example of a
very different class of work may be noted in the hinges of the
Cloister door of the Cathedral at York. Personally I have seen three
art designers sketching these at the same time only one of whom was an
Englishman, another coming from the continent and the third from
America. The hinge still swings the heavy oak door of the Thirteenth
Century. The arborization of the metal as it spreads out from the main
shaft of the hinge is beautifully decorative in effect.</p>
<SPAN name="opp112">{opp112}</SPAN>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp112.jpg" border=1><br/>
CLOISTER OF ST. PAUL'S (WITHOUT THE WALLS, ROME)</p>
<p>A little study of the hinge seems to show that these branching
portions were so arranged as to make the mechanical moment of
the swinging door less of a dead weight than it would have been if the
hinge were a solid bar of iron. Besides the spreading of the branches
over a wide surface serves to hold the woodwork of the door thoroughly
in place. While the hinge was beautiful, then it was eminently useful
from a good many standpoints, and trivial though it might be
considered to be, it was in reality a type of all the work
accomplished in connection with these Thirteenth Century Cathedrals.
According to the old Latin proverb "<i>omne tulit punctum qui miscuit
utile dulci</i>," he scores every point who mingles the useful with the
beautiful, and certainly the Thirteenth Century workman succeeded in
accomplishing the desideratum to an eminent degree. This mingling of
the useful and the beautiful is of itself a supreme difference between
the Thirteenth Century generations and our own. Mr. Yeats, the well
known Irish poet, in bidding farewell to America some years ago said
to a party of friends, that no country could consider itself to be
making real progress in culture until the very utensils in the kitchen
were beautiful as well as useful. Anything that is merely useful is
hideous, and anyone who can handle such things with impunity has not
true culture. In the Thirteenth Century they never by any chance made
anything that was merely useful, especially not if it was to be
associated with their beloved Cathedral.</p>
<p>An excellent example of this can be found in their Chalices and other
ceremonial utensils which were meant for Divine Service. As we have
said elsewhere The Craftsman, the journal of the Arts and Crafts
Movement in this country not long since compared a Chalice of the
Thirteenth Century with the prize cups which are offered for yacht
races and other competitions in this country. We may say at once that
the form which the Chalice received during the Thirteenth Century is
that which constitutes to a great extent the model for this sacred
vessel ever since and the comparison with the modern design is
therefore all the more interesting. In spite of the fact that money is
no object as a rule in the construction of many of the modern prize
cups, they compare unfavorably according to the writer in The
Craftsman with the old time chalices. There is a tendency to over
ornamentation which spoils the effectiveness of the lines of the
metal work in many cases and there is also only too often, an attempt
to introduce forms of plastic art which do not lend themselves well to
this class of work. It is in design particularly that the older
workman excels his modern colleague though usually there are
suggestions from several sources for present day work. In a word the
Thirteenth Century Chalice was much more admirable than the modern
piece of metal work, because the lines were simpler, the combination
of beauty with utility more readily recognizable and the obtrusiveness
of the ornamentation much less marked.</p>
<p>This same thing is true for other even coarser forms of metal work in
connection with the Cathedrals, and anyone who has seen some of the
beautiful iron screens built for Cathedral choirs in the olden times
will realize that even the worker in iron must have been an artist as
well as a blacksmith. The effect produced, especially in the dim light
of the Cathedral, is often that of delicate lace work. To appreciate
the strength of the screen one must actually test it with the hands.
This of itself represents a very charming adaptation of what might be
expected to be rough work meant for protective purposes into a
suitable ornament. Some of the gates of the old churchyards are very
beautiful in their designs and have often been imitated in quite
recent years, for the gates of country places, for our modern
millionaires. The Reverend Augustus Jessopp who has written much with
regard to the times before the Reformation, says that he has found in
his investigations, that not infrequently such gates were made by the
village blacksmiths. Most of the old parish records are lost because
of the suppression of the parishes as well as the monasteries in Henry
the Eighth's time. Some of the original documents are, however,
preserved and among them are receipts from the village blacksmith, for
what we now admire as specimens of artistic ironwork and corresponding
receipts from the village carpenter, for woodwork that we now consider
of equally high order. There were carved bench ends and choir stalls
which seem to have been produced in this way. Just how these
generations of the Thirteenth Century, in little towns of less than
ten thousand inhabitants, succeeded in raising up artisans in
numbers, capable of doing such fine work, and yet content to make
their living at such ordinary occupations, is indeed hard to
understand. It must not be forgotten, moreover, that though there was
not much furniture during the Thirteenth Century what little there
was, was as a rule very carefully and artistically made. Thirteenth
Century benches and tables are famous. Cathedrals and castles worked
together in inspiring and giving occupation to these wonderful
workmen.</p>
<p>It was not only the workmen engaged in the construction of the
edifices proper who made the beautiful things and created marvelously
artistic treasures during this century. All the adornments of the
Cathedrals and especially everything associated in any intimate way
with the religious service was sure to be executed with the most
delicate taste. The vestments of the time are some of the most
beautiful that have ever been made. The historians of needlework tell
us that this period represents the most flourishing era of artistic
accomplishment with the needle of all modern history. One example of
this has secured a large share of notoriety in quite recent years. An
American millionaire bought the famous piece of needlework known as
the Cope of Ascoli. This is an example of the large garment worn over
the shoulders in religious processions and at benediction. The price
paid for the garment is said to have been $60,000. This was not
considered extortionate or enforced, as the Cope was declared by
experts to be one of the finest pieces of needlework in the world. The
jewels which originally adorned it had been removed so that the money
was paid for the needlework itself. After a time it became clear that
the Cope had been stolen before being sold, and accordingly it was
returned to the Italian government who presented the American
millionaire with a medal for his honesty.</p>
<p>We have spoken of the Cathedrals as great stone books, in which he who
ran, might read, even though he were not able to read in the technical
sense of the term. This has been an old-time expression with regard to
the Cathedrals, but not even its inventor perhaps, and certainly not
most of those who have repeated it have realized how literally true
was the saying. I have elsewhere quoted from Reinach's Story of
Art Throughout the Ages as an authority on the subject. His
re-statement of the intellectual significance for the people of the
Cathedrals of their towns, in which it must be remembered that they
had a personal interest because in a sense they were really theirs,
and they felt their ownership quite as much as a modern member of a
parish feels with regard to his church, emphasizes and illuminates
this subject to a wonderful degree. The realization that the
information of the time was deliberately woven into these great stone
structures, mainly of course for decorative purposes, but partly also
with the idea of educating the people, is a startling confirmation of
the idea that education was the most important and significant work of
this great century.</p>
<p class="cite">
"The Gothic Cathedral is a perfect encyclopedia of human knowledge.
It contains scenes from the Scriptures and the legends of saints;
motives from the animal and vegetable kingdom; representations of
the seasons of agricultural labor, of' the arts and sciences and
crafts, and finally moral allegories, as, for instance, ingenious
personifications of the virtues and the vices. In the Thirteenth
Century a learned Dominican, Vincent of Beauvais, was employed by
St. Louis to write a great work which was to be an epitome of all
the knowledge of his times. This compilation, called The Mirror of
the World, is divided into four parts: The Mirror of Nature, The
Mirror of Science, the Moral Mirror, and the Historical Mirror. A
contemporary archaeologist, M. E. Male, has shown that the works of
art of our great cathedrals are a translation into stone of the
Mirror of Vincent of Beauvais, setting aside the episodes from Greek
and Roman History, which would have been out of place. It was not
that the imagers had read Vincent's work; but that, like him, they
sought to epitomise all the knowledge of their contemporaries. The
first aim of their art is not to please, but to teach; they offer an
encyclopedia for the use of those who cannot read, translated by
sculptor or glass-painter into a clear and precise language, under
the lofty direction of the Church which left nothing to chance. It
was present always and everywhere, advising and superintending the
artist, leaving him to his own devices only when he modelled the fantastic animals of the
gargoyles, or borrowed decorative motives from the vegetable
kingdom." [Footnote 11]</p>
<SPAN name="opp116">{opp116}</SPAN>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 11: Reinach—The Story of Art Throughout the Ages.
Scribner's, 1904.]
<p><p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp116a.jpg" border=1><br/>
CATHEDRAL (BOURGES)</p>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp116b.jpg" border=1><br/>
CATHEDRAL (CHARTRES)</p>
<p>As to how much the cathedrals held of meaning for those who built them
and worshiped in them, only a careful study of the symbolism of the
time will enable the present-day admirer to understand. Modern
generations have lost most of their appreciation of the significance
of symbolism. The occupation of mind with the trivial things that are
usually read in our day, leaves little or no room for the study of the
profounder thought an artist may care to put into his work, and so the
modern artist tells his story as far as possible without any of this
deeper significance, since it would only be lost. In the Thirteenth
Century, however, everything artistic had a secondary meaning.
Literature was full of allegories, even the Arthur Legends were
considered to be the expression of the battle of a soul with worldly
influences as well as a poetic presentation of the story of the old
time British King. The Gothic Cathedrals were a mass of symbolism.
This will perhaps be best understood from the following explanation of
Cathedral symbolism, which we take from the translation of Durandus's
work on the meaning of the Divine Offices, a further account of which
will be found in the chapter on The Prose of the Century.</p>
<p class="cite">
"Far away and long ere we can catch the first view of the city
itself, the three spires of its Cathedral, rising high above its din
and turmoil, preach to us of the Most High and Undivided Trinity. As
we approach, the Transepts, striking out crosswise, tell of the
Atonement. The Communion of Saints is set forth by the chapels
clustering around Choir and Nave: the mystical weathercock bids us
to watch and pray and endure hardness; the hideous forms that are
seen hurrying from the eaves speak the misery of those who are cast
out of the church; spire, pinnacle, and finial, the upward curl of
the sculptured foliage, the upward spring of the flying buttress,
the sharp rise of the window arch, the high thrown pitch of the
roof, all these, overpowering the horizontal tendency of string
course and parapet, teach us, that vanquishing earthly desires, we
also should ascend in heart and mind. Lessons of holy wisdom are written in the delicate tracery of
the windows; the unity of many members is shadowed forth by the
multiplex arcade; the duty of letting our light shine before men, by
the pierced and flowered parapet that crowns the whole.
<br/><br/>
"We enter. The triple breadth of Nave and Aisles, the triple height
of Pier arch, Triforium, and Clerestory, the triple length of Choir,
Transepts, and Nave, again set forth the HOLY TRINITY. And what
besides is there that does not tell of our Blessed SAVIOUR? that
does not point out "HIM First" in the two-fold western door; "HIM
Last" in the distant altar; "HIM Midst," in the great Rood; "HIM
Without End," in the monogram carved on boss and corbel, in the Holy
Lamb, in the Lion of the tribe of Judah, in the Mystic Fish? Close
by us is the font; for by regeneration we enter the Church; it is
deep and capacious; for we are buried in Baptism with CHRIST; it is
of stone, for HE is the Rock; and its spiry cover teaches us, if we
be indeed risen from its waters with HIM, to seek those things which
are above. Before us in long-drawn vista are the massy piers, which
are the Apostles and Prophets—they are each of many members,
for many are the Graces in every Saint, there is beautifully
delicate foliage round the head of all; for all were plentiful in
good works. Beneath our feet are the badges of worldly pomp and
glory, the graves of Kings and Nobles and Knights; all in the
Presence of God as dross and worthlessness. Over us swells the vast
valley of the high pitched roof; from the crossing and interlacing
of its curious rafters hang fadeless flowers and fruits which are
not of earth; from its hammer-beams project wreaths and stars such
as adorn heavenly beings; in its center stands the LAMB as it has
been slain; from around HIM the celestial Host, Cherubim and
Seraphim, Thrones, Principalities, and Powers, look down peacefully
on the worshipers below. Harpers there are among them harping with
their harps; for one is the song of the Church in earth and in
Heaven. Through the walls wind the narrow cloister galleries;
emblems of the path by which holy hermits and anchorets whose
conflicts were known only to their GOD, have reached their Home. And
we are compassed about with a mighty cloud of witnesses; the rich
deep glass of the windows teems with saintly
forms, each in its own fair niche, all invested with the same holy
repose; there is the glorious company of the Apostles; the goodly
fellowship of the Prophets; the noble army of Martyrs; the shining
band of Confessors; the jubilant chorus of the Virgins; there are
Kings, who have long since changed an earthly for an heavenly crown;
and Bishops who have given in a glad account to the Shepherd and
Bishop of souls. But on none of these things do we rest; piers, arch
behind arch, windows, light behind light, arcades, shaft behind
shaft, the roof, bay behind bay, the Saints around us, the Heavenly
Hierarchy above with dignity of preeminence still increasing
eastward, each and all, lead on eye and soul and thought to the
Image of the Crucified Saviour as displayed on the great East
window. Gazing steadfastly on that we pass up the Nave, that is
through the Church Militant, till we reach the Rood Screen, the
barrier between it and the Church Triumphant, and therein shadowing
forth the death of the Faithful. High above it hangs on His
Triumphant Cross the image of Him who by His death hath overcome
death; on it are portrayed Saints and Martyrs, His warriors who,
fighting under their LORD have entered into rest and inherit a
tearless eternity. They are to be our examples, and the seven lamps
above them typify those graces of the SPIRIT, by Whom alone we can
tread in their steps. The screen itself glows with gold and crimson;
with gold, for they have on their heads golden crowns; with crimson,
for they passed the Red Sea of Martyrdom, to obtain them. And
through the delicate network, and the unfolding Holy Doors, we catch
faint glimpses of the Chancel beyond. There are the massy stalls;
for in Heaven is everlasting rest; there are the Sedilia, emblems of
the seats of' the Elders round the Throne; there is the Piscina; for
they have washed their robes and made them white; and there heart
and soul and life of all, the Altar with its unquenched lights, and
golden carvings, and mystic steps, and sparkling jewels; even CHRIST
Himself, by Whose only Merits we find admission to our Heavenly
Inheritance. Verily, as we think on the oneness of its design, we
may say: Jerusalem edificatur ut civitas cujus participatio ejus in
idipsum."</p>
<p>It is because of all this wealth of meaning embodied in them, that the
Cathedrals of this old time continue to be so interesting and so
unfailingly attractive even to our distant and so differently
constituted generation. [Footnote 12]</p>
<p class="footnote">
[Footnote 12: Those who care to realize to some degree all the
Wonderful symbolic meaning of the ornamentation of some of these
cathedrals, should read M. Huysman's book La Cathedrale, which has,
we believe, been translated into English. Needless to say it has
been often in our hands in compiling this chapter, and the death of
its author as this chapter is going through the press poignantly
recalls all the beauty of his work.]</p>
<p>We cannot close this chapter on the Book of the Arts leaving the
impression that only the Church Architecture of the time deserves to
be considered in the category of, great art influences. There were
many municipal buildings, some stately castles, and a large number of
impressively magnificent Abbeys and Monasteries, besides educational
and charitable institutions built at this same time. The town halls of
some of the great Hansa towns, that is, the German free cities that
were members of the Hanseatic League, present some very striking
examples of the civil architecture of the period. It has the same
characteristics that we have discussed in treating of the Cathedrals.
While wonderfully impressive, it was eminently suitable for the
purpose for which it was intended and the decorations always forming
integral parts of the structure, sounded the note of the combination
of beauty with utility which is so characteristic of every phase of
the art accomplishment of the century.</p>
<p>Some of the castles would deserve special description by themselves
but unfortunately space forbids more than a passing mention. Certain
castellated fortresses still standing in England and Ireland come from
the time of King John, and are excellent examples of the stability and
forceful character of this form of architecture in the Thirteenth
Century. It is interesting to find that when we come to build in the
Twentieth Century in America, the armories which are to be used for
the training of our militia and the storage of arms and ammunition,
many of the ideas used in their construction are borrowed from this
olden time.</p>
<SPAN name="opp120">{opp120}</SPAN>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp120.jpg" border=1><br/>
DURHAM CASTLE AND CATHEDRAL<br/>
KING JOHN'S CASTLE (LIMERICK)</p>
<p>There is a famous castle in Limerick, Ireland, built in John's time
which constituted an excellent example of this and which has
doubtlessly often been studied and more or less imitated.</p>
<p>One portion of Kenilworth Castle in England dates from the Thirteenth
Century and has been often the subject of careful study by modern
architects. The same thing might be said of many others.</p>
<p>With regard to the English Abbeys too much cannot be said in praise of
their architecture and it has been the model for large educational and
municipal buildings ever since. St. Mary's Abbey at York, though only
a few scattered fragments of its beauties are to be seen and very
little, of its walls still stand, is almost as interesting as
Yorkminster, the great Cathedral itself. There were many such abbeys
as this built in England during the Thirteenth Century—more than a
dozen of them at least and probably a full score. All of them are as
distinguished in the history of architecture as the English
Cathedrals. It will be remembered that what is now called Westminster
Abbey was not a Cathedral church, but only a monastery church attached
to the Abbey of Westminster and this, the only well preserved example
of its class furnishes an excellent idea of what these religious
institutions signify in the Thirteenth Century. They meant as much for
the art impulse as the Cathedrals themselves.</p>
<p>One feature of these monastic establishments deserves special mention.
The cloisters were usually constructed so beautifully as to make them
veritable gems of the art of the period. These cloisters were the
porticos usually surrounding a garden of the monastery within which
the Monks could walk, shaded from the sun, and protected from the rain
and the snow. They might very easily have been hideously useful
porches, especially as they were quite concealed from the outer world
as a rule, and those not belonging to the order were not admitted to
them except on very special occasions. The name cloister signifies an
enclosed place and lay persons were not ordinarily admitted to them.
Those who know anything about them will recall what beautiful
constructive work was put into them. Certain examples as that of St.
John Lateran in Rome and the Cloister of St. Paul's without the walls
some five miles from Rome, constructed during the Thirteenth
Century and under the influence of the same great art movement as gave
the Cathedrals, are the most beautiful specimens that now remain. The
only thing that they can be compared with is the famous Angel Choir at
Lincoln which indeed they recall in many ways.</p>
<p>The pictures of these two Cloisters which we present will give some
idea of their beauty. To be thoroughly appreciated, however, they must
be seen, for there is a delicacy of finish about every detail that
makes them an unending source of admiration and brings people back
again and again to see them, yet always to find something new and
apparently unnoticed before. It might be thought that the studied
variety in the columns so that no two are of exactly the same form,
would produce a bizarre effect. The lack of symmetry that might
result, from this same feature could be expected to spoil their
essential beauty. Neither of these effects has been produced, however.
The Cloisters were, moreover, not purple patches on monasteries, but
ever worthy portions of very beautiful buildings.</p>
<p>All of these buildings were furnished as regards their metal work,
their wood work, and the portions that lent themselves to decoration,
in the same spirit as the Cathedrals themselves. The magnificent
tables and benches of the Thirteenth Century are still considered to
be the best models of simplicity of line with beauty of form and
eminent durability in the history of furniture making. The fashion for
Colonial furniture in our own time has brought us nearer to such
Thirteenth Century furniture making than has been true at any other
time in history. Here once more there was one of these delightful
combinations of beauty and utility which is so characteristic of the
century. Even the kitchen utensils were beautiful as well as useful
and the Irish poet might have been satisfied to his heart's content.</p>
<SPAN name="opp122">{opp122}</SPAN>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp122a.jpg" border=1><br/>
PALAZZO VECCHIO (ARNULFO, FLORENCE)<br/>
CAMPANILE (GIOTTO)</p>
<p class="image">
<ANTIMG alt="" src="images/i_opp122b.jpg" border=1><br/>
GIOTTO'S TOWER (FLORENCE)</p>
<p>Certain other architectural forms were wonderfully developed during
the Thirteenth Century and the opening years of the Fourteenth Century
while men trained during the former period were still at work.
Giotto's tower, for instance, must be considered a Thirteenth Century
product since its architect was well past thirty-five years of age
before the Thirteenth Century closed and all his artistic
character had been formed under its precious inspiration. It is a
curious reflection on modern architecture, that some of the modern
high business buildings are saved from being hideous just in as much
as they approach the character of some of these tower-like structures
of the Thirteenth Century. The first of New York's skyscrapers which
is said to have escaped the stigma of being utterly ugly, as most of
them are, because of their appeal to mere utility, was the New York
Times Building which is just Giotto's tower on a large scale set down
on Broadway at the beginning of the Twentieth Century. Seen from a
mile away the effect is exactly that of the great Florentine
architect's beautiful structure and this was of course the deliberate
intention of the modern architect. Anyone who would think, however,
that our modern business building with its plain walls recalls in any
adequate sense its great pattern, should read what Mr. Ruskin has said
with regard to the wealth of meaning that is to be found in Giotto's
tower. Into such structures just as into the Cathedrals, the
architects and builders of the time succeeded in putting a whole
burden of suggestion, which to the generations of the time in which
they were built, accustomed to the symbolism of every art feature in
life around them, had a precious wealth of significance that we can
only appreciate after deep study and long contemplation. We have felt
that only the quotation from Mr. Ruskin himself can fully illustrate
what we wish to convey in this matter.</p>
<p class="cite">
"Of these representations of human art under heavenly guidance, the
series of basreliefs which stud the base of this tower of Giotto's
must be held certainly the chief in Europe. At first you may be
surprised at the smallness of their scale in proportion to their
masonry; but this smallness of scale enabled the master workmen of
the tower to execute them with their own hands; and for the rest, in
the very finest architecture, the decoration of most precious kind
is usually thought of as a jewel, and set with space round it—as
the jewels of a crown, or the clasp of a girdle."</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />