<h3><SPAN name="chap_14" id="chap_14"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
<h5>THE ROOF CORNICE.</h5>
<p><span class="scs">I</span>. <span class="sc">It</span> will be remembered that in the Sixth Chapter we
paused (<span class="scs">X</span>.) at the point where the addition of brackets to
the ordinary wall cornice would have converted it into a structure
proper for sustaining a roof. Now the wall cornice was
treated throughout our enquiry (compare Chapter VII. <span class="scs">V</span>.) as
the capital of the wall, and as forming, by its concentration,
the capital of the shaft. But we must not reason <i>back</i> from
the capital to the cornice, and suppose that an extension of the
principles of the capital to the whole length of the wall, will
serve for the roof cornice; for all our conclusions respecting
the capital were based on the supposition of its being
adapted to carry considerable weight condensed on its abacus:
but the roof cornice is, in most cases, required rather to
project boldly than to carry weight; and arrangements are
therefore to be adopted for it which will secure the projection
of large surfaces without being calculated to resist extraordinary
pressure. This object is obtained by the use of
brackets at intervals, which are the peculiar distinction of the
roof cornice.</p>
<p><span class="scs">II.</span> Roof cornices are generally to be divided into two
great families: the first and simplest, those which are composed
merely by the projection of the edge of the roof mask
over the wall, sustained by such brackets or spurs as may be
necessary; the second, those which provide a walk round the
edge of the roof, and which require, therefore, some stronger
support, as well as a considerable mass of building above or
beside the roof mask, and a parapet. These two families we
shall consider in succession.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page156"></SPAN>156</span></p>
<p><span class="scs">III.</span> 1. The Eaved Cornice. We may give it this name,
as represented in the simplest form by cottage eaves. It is
used, however, in bold projection, both in north, and south, and
east; its use being, in the north, to throw the rain well away
from the wall of the building; in the south to give it shade;
and it is ordinarily constructed of the ends of the timbers of
the roof mask (with their tiles or shingles continued to the
edge of the cornice), and sustained by spurs of timber. This
is its most picturesque and natural form; not inconsistent with
great splendor of architecture in the medi�val Italian domestic
buildings, superb in its mass of cast shadow, and giving
rich effect to the streets of Swiss towns, even when they have
no other claim to interest. A farther value is given to it by
its waterspouts, for in order to avoid loading it with weight of
water in the gutter at the edge, where it would be a strain on
the fastenings of the pipe, it has spouts of discharge at intervals
of three or four feet,—rows of magnificent leaden or iron
dragons’ heads, full of delightful character, except to any person
passing along the middle of the street in a heavy shower.
I have had my share of their kindness in my time, but owe
them no grudge; on the contrary, much gratitude for the delight
of their fantastic outline on the calm blue sky, when they
had no work to do but to open their iron mouths and pant in
the sunshine.</p>
<p><span class="scs">IV.</span> When, however, light is more valuable than shadow,
or when the architecture of the wall is too fair to be concealed,
it becomes necessary to draw the cornice into narrower limits;
a change of considerable importance, in that it permits the
gutter, instead of being of lead and hung to the edge of the
cornice, to be of stone, and supported by brackets in the wall,
these brackets becoming proper recipients of after decoration
(and sometimes associated with the stone channels of discharge,
called gargoyles, which belong, however, more properly to the
other family of cornices). The most perfect and beautiful
example of this kind of cornice is the Venetian, in which the
rain from the tiles is received in a stone gutter supported by
small brackets, delicately moulded, and having its outer lower
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page157" id="page157"></SPAN>157</span>
edge decorated with the English dogtooth moulding, whose
sharp zigzag mingles richly with the curved edges of the tiling.
I know no cornice more beautiful in its extreme simplicity and
serviceableness.</p>
<p><span class="scs">V.</span> The cornice of the Greek Doric is a condition of the
same kind, in which, however, there are no brackets, but useless
appendages hung to the bottom of the gutter (giving,
however, some impression of support as seen from a distance),
and decorated with stone symbolisms of raindrops. The brackets
are not allowed, because they would interfere with the
sculpture, which in this architecture is put beneath the cornice;
and the overhanging form of the gutter is nothing
more than a vast dripstone moulding, to keep the rain from
such sculpture: its decoration of gutt�, seen in silver points
against the shadow, is pretty in feeling, with a kind of continual
refreshment and remembrance of rain in it; but the
whole arrangement is awkward and meagre, and is only endurable
when the eye is quickly drawn away from it to sculpture.</p>
<p><span class="scs">VI.</span> In later cornices, invented for the Greek orders, and
farther developed by the Romans, the bracket appears in true
importance, though of barbarous and effeminate outline: and
gorgeous decorations are applied to it, and to the various horizontal
mouldings which it carries, some of them of great
beauty, and of the highest value to the medi�val architects
who imitated them. But a singularly gross mistake was made
in the distribution of decoration on these rich cornices (I do
not know when first, nor does it matter to me or to the reader),
namely, the charging with ornament the under surface of the
cornice between the brackets, that is to say, the exact piece of
the whole edifice, from top to bottom, where ornament is least
visible. I need hardly say much respecting the wisdom of
this procedure, excusable only if the whole building were
covered with ornament; but it is curious to see the way in
which modern architects have copied it, even when they had
little enough ornament to spare. For instance, I suppose few
persons look at the Athen�um Club-house without feeling
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page158"></SPAN>158</span>
vexed at the meagreness and meanness of the windows of the
ground floor: if, however, they look up under the cornice, and
have good eyes, they will perceive that the architect has reserved
his decorations to put between the brackets; and by
going up to the first floor, and out on the gallery, they may
succeed in obtaining some glimpses of the designs of the said
decorations.</p>
<p><span class="scs">VII.</span> Such as they are, or were, these cornices were soon
considered essential parts of the “order” to which they belonged;
and the same wisdom which endeavored to fix the
proportions of the orders, appointed also that no order should
go without its cornice. The reader has probably heard of the
architectural division of superstructure into architrave, frieze,
and cornice; parts which have been appointed by great architects
to all their work, in the same spirit in which great rhetoricians
have ordained that every speech shall have an exordium,
and narration, and peroration. The reader will do well to consider
that it may be sometimes just as possible to carry a roof,
and get rid of rain, without such an arrangement, as it is to
tell a plain fact without an exordium or peroration; but he
must very absolutely consider that the architectural peroration
or cornice is strictly and sternly limited to the end of the wall’s
speech,—that is, to the edge of the roof; and that it has nothing
whatever to do with shafts nor the orders of them. And
he will then be able fully to enjoy the farther ordinance of the
late Roman and Renaissance architects, who, attaching it to
the shaft as if it were part of its shadow, and having to employ
their shafts often in places where they came not near the roof,
forthwith cut the roof-cornice to pieces and attached a bit of it
to every column; thenceforward to be carried by the unhappy
shaft wherever it went, in addition to any other work on which
it might happen to be employed. I do not recollect among
any living beings, except Renaissance architects, any instance
of a parallel or comparable stupidity: but one can imagine a
savage getting hold of a piece of one of our iron wire ropes,
with its rings upon it at intervals to bind it together, and pulling
the wires asunder to apply them to separate purposes; but
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page159"></SPAN>159</span>
imagining there was magic in the ring that bound them, and so
cutting that to pieces also, and fastening a little bit of it to
every wire.</p>
<p><span class="scs">VIII.</span> Thus much may serve us to know respecting the
first family of wall cornices. The second is immeasurably more
important, and includes the cornices of all the best buildings
in the world. It has derived its best form from medi�val
military architecture, which imperatively required two things;
first, a parapet which should permit sight and offence, and
afford defence at the same time; and secondly, a projection
bold enough to enable the defenders to rake the bottom of
the wall with falling bodies; projection which, if the wall
happened to slope inwards, required not to be small. The
thoroughly magnificent forms of cornice thus developed by
necessity in military buildings, were adopted, with more or less
of boldness or distinctness, in domestic architecture, according
to the temper of the times and the circumstances of the individual—decisively
in the baron’s house, imperfectly in the
burgher’s: gradually they found their way into ecclesiastical
architecture, under wise modifications in the early cathedrals,
with infinite absurdity in the imitations of them; diminishing
in size as their original purpose sank into a decorative one, until
we find battlements, two-and-a-quarter inches square, decorating
the gates of the Philanthropic Society.</p>
<p><span class="scs">IX.</span> There are, therefore, two distinct features in all cornices
of this kind; first, the bracket, now become of enormous
importance and of most serious practical service; the second,
the parapet: and these two features we shall consider in succession,
and in so doing, shall learn all that is needful for us to
know, not only respecting cornices, but respecting brackets in
general, and balconies.</p>
<table style="float: left; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. XXXVIII.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figleft2">
<SPAN name="fig_38"><ANTIMG src="images/img160.jpg" width-obs="130" height-obs="197" alt="Fig. XXXVIII." title="Fig. XXXVIII." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">X.</span> 1. The Bracket. In the simplest form of military cornice,
the brackets are composed of two or more long stones,
supporting each other in gradually increasing projection, with
roughly rounded ends, <SPAN href="#fig_38">Fig. XXXVIII.</SPAN>, and the parapet is
simply a low wall carried on the ends of these, leaving, of
course, behind, or within it, a hole between each bracket for
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page160"></SPAN>160</span>
the convenient dejection of hot sand and lead. This form
is best seen, I think, in the old Scotch castles; it is very
grand, but has a giddy look, and one is
afraid of the whole thing toppling off the
wall. The next step was to deepen the
brackets, so as to get them propped against
a great depth of the main rampart, and to
have the inner ends of the stones held by a
greater weight of that main wall above;
while small arches were thrown from bracket
to bracket to carry the parapet wall more
securely. This is the most perfect form of
cornice, completely satisfying the eye of its
security, giving full protection to the wall, and applicable to all
architecture, the interstices between the brackets being filled
up, when one does not want to throw boiling lead on any body
below, and the projection being always delightful, as giving
greater command and view of the building, from its angles, to
those walking on the rampart. And as, in military buildings,
there were usually towers at the angles (round which the battlements
swept) in order to flank the walls, so often in the
translation into civil or ecclesiastical architecture, a small turret
remained at the angle, or a more bold projection of balcony, to
give larger prospect to those upon the rampart. This cornice,
perfect in all its parts, as arranged for ecclesiastical architecture,
and exquisitely decorated, is the one employed in the duomo
of Florence and campanile of Giotto, of which I have already
spoken as, I suppose, the most perfect architecture in the world.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XI.</span> In less important positions and on smaller edifices, this
cornice diminishes in size, while it retains its arrangement, and
at last we find nothing but the spirit and form of it left; the
real practical purpose having ceased, and arch, brackets and
all, being cut out of a single stone. Thus we find it used in
early buildings throughout the whole of the north and south
of Europe, in forms sufficiently represented by the two examples
in <SPAN href="#plate_4">Plate IV.</SPAN>: 1, from St. Antonio, Padua; 2, from Sens
in France.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page161"></SPAN>161</span></p>
<table style="float: right; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. XXXIX.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figright2">
<SPAN name="fig_39"><ANTIMG src="images/img161a.jpg" width-obs="130" height-obs="559" alt="Fig. XXXIX." title="Fig. XXXIX." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XII.</span> I wish, however, at present to fix the reader’s attention
on the form of the bracket itself; a most important feature
in modern as well as ancient architecture. The first idea of
a bracket is that of a long stone or piece of <span class="correction" title="corrected from timbe">timber</span>
projecting from the wall, as <i>a</i>, <SPAN href="#fig_39">Fig. XXXIX.</SPAN>,
of which the strength depends on the toughness
of the stone or wood, and the stability on the
weight of wall above it (unless it be the end
of a main beam). But let it be supposed that
the structure at <i>a</i>, being of the required projection,
is found too weak: then we may strengthen
it in one of three ways; (1) by putting a second
or third stone beneath it, as at <i>b</i>; (2) by giving
it a spur, as at <i>c</i>; (3) by giving it a shaft and
another bracket below, <i>d</i>; the great use of this
arrangement being that the lowermost bracket
has the help of the weight of the shaft-length
of wall above its insertion, which is, of course,
greater than the weight of the small shaft: and
then the lower bracket may be farther helped by
the structure at <i>b</i> or <i>c</i>.</p>
<table style="float: left; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. XL.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figleft2">
<SPAN name="fig_40"><ANTIMG src="images/img161b.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="360" alt="Fig. XL." title="Fig. XL." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XIII.</span> Of these structures, <i>a</i> and <i>c</i> are evidently
adapted especially for wooden buildings; <i>b</i> and <i>d</i> for stone
ones; the last, of course, susceptible of the richest decoration,
and superbly employed in the cornice of the cathedral
of Monza: but all are beautiful in their way,
and are the means of, I think, nearly half the picturesqueness
and power of medi�val building; the
forms <i>b</i> and <i>c</i> being, of course, the most frequent;
<i>a</i>, when it occurs, being usually rounded off, as at <i>a</i>,
<SPAN href="#fig_40">Fig. XL.</SPAN>; <i>b</i>, also, as in <SPAN href="#fig_38">Fig. XXXVIII.</SPAN>, or else itself
composed of a single stone cut into the form
of the group <i>b</i> here, <SPAN href="#fig_40">Fig. XL.</SPAN>, or plain, as at <i>c</i>,
which is also the proper form of the brick bracket,
when stone is not to be had. The reader will at
once perceive that the form <i>d</i> is a barbarism (unless
when the scale is small and the weight to be carried exceedingly
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page162"></SPAN>162</span>
light): it is of course, therefore, a favorite form with the
Renaissance architects; and its introduction is one of the first
corruptions of the Venetian architecture.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XIV.</span> There is one point necessary to be noticed, though
bearing on decoration more than construction, before we leave
the subject of the bracket. The whole power of the construction
depends upon the stones being well <i>let into</i> the wall; and
the first function of the decoration should be to give the
idea of this insertion, if possible; at all events, not to contradict
this idea. If the reader will glance at any of the brackets
used in the ordinary architecture of London, he will find them
of some such character as <SPAN href="#fig_41">Fig. XLI.</SPAN>; not a bad form in itself,
but exquisitely absurd in its curling lines, which give the idea
of some writhing suspended tendril, instead of a stiff support,
and by their careful avoidance of the wall make the
bracket look pinned on, and in constant danger of
sliding down. This is, also, a Classical and Renaissance
decoration.</p>
<table style="float: left; width: auto;" summary="Illustration">
<tr>
<td class="caption1">Fig. XLI.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="figleft2">
<SPAN name="fig_41"><ANTIMG src="images/img162.jpg" width-obs="100" height-obs="222" alt="Fig. XLI." title="Fig. XLI." /></SPAN></td>
</tr>
</table>
<p><span class="scs">XV.</span> 2. The Parapet. Its forms are fixed in
military architecture by the necessities of the art of
war at the time of building, and are always beautiful
wherever they have been really thus fixed; delightful in
the variety of their setting, and in the quaint darkness of their
shot-holes, and fantastic changes of elevation and outline.
Nothing is more remarkable than the swiftly discerned difference
between the masculine irregularity of such true battlements,
and the formal pitifulness of those which are set on
modern buildings to give them a military air,—as on the jail
at Edinburgh.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XVI.</span> Respecting the Parapet for mere safeguard upon
buildings not military, there are just two fixed laws. It should
be pierced, otherwise it is not recognised from below for a
parapet at all, and it should not be in the form of a battlement,
especially in church architecture.</p>
<p>The most comfortable heading of a true parapet is a plain
level on which the arm can be rested, and along which it can
glide. Any jags or elevations are disagreeable; the latter, as
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page163"></SPAN>163</span>
interrupting the view and disturbing the eye, if they are
higher than the arm, the former, as opening some aspect of
danger if they are much lower; and the inconvenience, therefore,
of the battlemented form, as well as the worse than
absurdity, the bad feeling, of the appliance of a military feature
to a church, ought long ago to have determined its rejection.
Still (for the question of its picturesque value is here so closely
connected with that of its practical use, that it is vain to endeavor
to discuss it separately) there is a certain agreeableness
in the way in which the jagged outline dovetails the shadow of
the slated or leaded roof into the top of the wall, which may
make the use of the battlement excusable where there is a difficulty
in managing some unvaried line, and where the expense
of a pierced parapet cannot be encountered: but remember
always, that the value of the battlement consists in its letting
shadow into the light of the wall, or <i>vice vers�</i>, when it comes
against light sky, letting the light of the sky into the shade of
the wall; but that the actual outline of the parapet itself, if
the eye be arrested upon this, instead of upon the alternation
of shadow, is as <i>ugly</i> a succession of line as can by any possibility
be invented. Therefore, the battlemented parapet may
only be used where this alternation of shade is certain to be
shown, under nearly all conditions of effect; and where the
lines to be dealt with are on a scale which may admit battlements
of bold and manly size. The idea that a battlement is
an ornament anywhere, and that a miserable and diminutive
imitation of castellated outline will always serve to fill up blanks
and Gothicise unmanageable spaces, is one of the great idiocies
of the present day. A battlement is in its origin a piece of
wall large enough to cover a man’s body, and however it may
be decorated, or pierced, or finessed away into traceries, as long
as so much of its outline is retained as to suggest its origin, so
long its size must remain undiminished. To crown a turret
six feet high with chopped battlements three inches wide, is
children’s Gothic: it is one of the paltry falsehoods for which
there is no excuse, and part of the system of using models of
architecture to decorate architecture, which we shall hereafter
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page164"></SPAN>164</span>
note as one of the chief and most destructive follies of the
Renaissance;<SPAN name="FnAnchor_54" href="#Footnote_54"><span class="sp">54</span></SPAN> and in the present day the practice may be
classed as one which distinguishes the architects of whom there
is no hope, who have neither eye nor head for their work, and
who must pass their lives in vain struggles against the refractory
lines of their own buildings.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XVII.</span> As the only excuse for the battlemented parapet is
its alternation of shadow, so the only fault of the natural or
level parapet is its monotony of line. This is, however, in
practice, almost always broken by the pinnacles of the buttresses,
and if not, may be varied by the tracery of its penetrations.
The forms of these evidently admit every kind of
change; for a stone parapet, however pierced, is sure to be
strong enough for its purpose of protection, and, as regards the
strength of the building in general, the lighter it is the better.
More fantastic forms may, therefore, be admitted in a parapet
than in any other architectural feature, and for most services,
the Flamboyant parapets seem to me preferable to all others;
especially when the leaden roofs set off by points of darkness
the lace-like intricacy of penetration. These, however, as well
as the forms usually given to Renaissance balustrades (of which,
by the bye, the best piece of criticism I know is the sketch in
“David Copperfield” of the personal appearance of the man
who stole Jip), and the other and finer forms invented by Paul
Veronese in his architectural backgrounds, together with the
pure columnar balustrade of Venice, must be considered as
altogether decorative features.</p>
<p><span class="scs">XVIII.</span> So also are, of course, the jagged or crown-like
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page165"></SPAN>165</span>
finishings of walls employed where no real parapet of protection
is desired; originating in the defences of outworks and
single walls: these are used much in the east on walls surrounding
unroofed courts. The richest examples of such
decoration are Arabian; and from Cairo they seem to have
been brought to Venice. It is probable that few of my readers,
however familiar the general form of the Ducal Palace may
have been rendered to them by innumerable drawings, have any
distinct idea of its roof, owing to the staying of the eye on its
superb parapet, of which we shall give account hereafter. In
most of the Venetian cases the parapets which surround roofing
are very sufficient for protection, except that the stones of
which they are composed appear loose and infirm: but their
purpose is entirely decorative; every wall, whether detached
or roofed, being indiscriminately fringed with Arabic forms of
parapet, more or less Gothicised, according to the lateness of
their date.</p>
<p>I think there is no other point of importance requiring
illustration respecting the roof itself, or its cornice: but this
Venetian form of ornamental parapet connects itself curiously,
at the angles of nearly all the buildings on which it occurs,
with the pinnacled system of the north, founded on the structure
of the buttress. This, it will be remembered, is to be the
subject of the fifth division of our inquiry.</p>
<hr class="foot" />
<div class="note">
<p><SPAN name="Footnote_54" href="#FnAnchor_54"><span class="fn">54</span></SPAN> Not of Renaissance alone: the practice of modelling buildings on a
minute scale for niches and tabernacle-work has always been more or less
admitted, and I suppose <i>authority</i> for diminutive battlements might be
gathered from the Gothic of almost every period, as well as for many other
faults and mistakes: no Gothic school having ever been thoroughly systematised
or perfected, even in its best times. But that a mistaken decoration
sometimes occurs among a crowd of noble ones, is no more an excuse for
the habitual—far less, the exclusive—use of such a decoration, than the
accidental or seeming misconstructions of a Greek chorus are an excuse for
a school boy’s ungrammatical exercise.</p>
</div>
<hr class="art" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page166"></SPAN>166</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />