Chapter XV: Section II: These troubles having at last passed away, and all (2)

The original recommendation of the Parliamentary Committee, which gave rise to the Commission, was that “a plan should be determined on, by which the architect and the artists employed should work not only in conjunction with but in aid of one another.” The actual fact is, that, in some cases, the works of art are utterly at variance with the architecture, and ill-adapted to their position. Thus statues, beautiful in themselves, are executed on such a scale as to ruin the architectural effect of the halls, in which they are erected. This is the case with the statues in St. Stephen’s Hall, and the fine group by Gibson in the Prince’s chamber. In some cases fine paintings, such as Herbert’s magnificent picture of Moses delivering the Law, are in positions in which the public can rarely see them, while St. Stephen’s Hall, through which the main tide of people flows, is still left without a single picture. The series of statues of the British sovereigns is to be divided among three or four different localities, so that it will be impossible to see them at one time, or have them executed on one uniform scale. These things ought not to have been, and it is hardly possible that they should have taken place, had the Commission included one member, who had before his eyes the building as a whole, and the scale and succession of its various parts. Their labours have led to great and valuable results: it is a pity that these results should have suffered, even in a slight degree, from want of practical knowledge.

In order to carry out the ideas embodied in the scheme of the Commissioners, great exhibitions of cartoons and sculpture took place in Westminster Hall. Premiums were offered, and commissions were given to those who gained the highest places in this grand competition. The work is still going on, and (it is to be hoped) will be continued, till something like the ideal proposed in the reports shall be realized. Few buildings could be better adapted to serve as a British “Walhalla.” The natural wish for the perpetuation of memorials of great men and great events has filled St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey with monuments, seldom fitted for places of Christian worship and Christian sepulture. Such monuments might well find a place in future in a building, which is at once a palace of the Sovereign and the home of the legislature,--a building moreover, which by its extent and by its publicity gives the greatest possible scope for such commemoration of the past. When we look at what has been already done by the hands of our most celebrated artists, it is impossible not to feel that already the object of the Commission has been, to a great extent, attained, and a great opportunity nobly used. It is to be hoped, that even now such modifications may be made, during the continuance of the work, as may do away with all such drawbacks as those noticed above, and secure the harmony needed for grandeur of effect.

But, if it was Mr. Barry’s fate thus to encounter opposition and difficulty, it was his good fortune in the execution of his great work to draw round him men, who would work heartily under his direction, and yet would bring to their work all the enthusiasm and the high artistic spirit, which are usually supposed to belong only to independent workers. The opportunity was a great one; the scale of the building, the supplies given from the public purse, and (for a considerable time) the large discretion left to the architect in the employment of those resources, were at that time unprecedented. Mr. Barry felt the greatness of the opportunity. Not only did he desire to make his building a treasure-house of art and a sculptured memorial of our national history, but he also hoped to raise up in the course of its execution a school of decorative art, guided, but not servilely confined, by the examples of Gothic antiquity, and bringing to the evolution of Gothic principles all the resources of modern thought and science.

His ideas on the former point are embodied in the communication to the Fine Arts Commission, which is quoted above. The appointment of the Commission, of which (as has been remarked) he was not made a member, to a great extent took the highest artistic decoration out of his hands; and, but for his strenuous resistance, would have interfered even with purely architectural details. Still, however, much remained in his power; and his hopes in this direction did not fail of considerable accomplishment.

Nor was he disappointed in his other expectation. In the extraordinary progress of decorative art during the last twenty years the work in the New Palace of Westminster may justly claim a large share of influence. Infinite pains were bestowed on every detail; in some cases it seemed, that the dignity of the building as a whole, rather than the absolute need or object of the particular part under consideration, was allowed to determine the care and elaboration to be bestowed upon it. In the whole of the enormous mass there is hardly a square yard, which was not the subject of careful study. It was rather an understatement than an exaggeration of the truth, when the architect was forced to state to the Government that “no less than between 8000 or 9000 original drawings and models have been prepared for it, a large portion of which have emanated from my own hand, while the whole of the remainder have been made under my own immediate direction and supervision.” It was impossible that this extraordinary labour should be wholly thrown away. It could not fail to advance that cause of decorative art, to which it was so unsparingly devoted. But Mr. Barry was well aware that such a work could not be carried out by the unaided exertions of a single man. It was his good fortune to give direction and stimulus to a crowd of artistic coadjutors; it is the duty and privilege of those, who cherish his memory, to record with the most unreserved acknowledgment the valuable aid which he received from them.

Foremost among all stands the name of the late Mr. Pugin. It was (as has been said) during the erection of the Birmingham Grammar School in 1835 that he first became known to Mr. Barry, and at that time his help was first received in designing certain details of the interior. From the first moment of their acquaintance the connection between them became warm and friendly. Agreeing in their entire devotion to art, and differing widely in character and in artistic principles, they had perhaps just that amount of sympathy and diversity, which leads to mutual appreciation, co-operation, and friendship. Unrestrained as their intercourse and mutual criticisms were--impossible, in fact, as it would have been to restrain either in the assertion of what he conceived to be orthodoxy in architectural faith--that intercourse was untroubled by the slightest misunderstanding or estrangement of feeling, from the time that they first saw each other in Birmingham, till the day when Sir C. Barry was one of the few mourners who followed his friend to the grave.

The first aid which he received from Mr. Pugin was under the pressure of shortness of time in making the original design. Working under Mr. Barry’s own eye and direction, Mr. Pugin sketched for him in pencil a complete set of details, in a style perhaps bolder, less carefully proportioned and less purely English, than would have been adopted by himself. In the design they differed _toto cœlo_. Mr. Pugin would have recommended irregular and picturesque grouping of parts, utterly at variance with the regularity and symmetry actually adopted. Except in details, he neither had, nor could have had, any influence whatever, and those who compare the details of his own buildings with those of the New Palace will readily see that even here his influence, however valuable, was chiefly indirect.

As soon as he was appointed architect to the New Palace, he immediately thought of his friend, and resolved to invite him to his aid. Convinced that Mr. Pugin was at that time unrivalled in his knowledge of Gothic detail, admiring his extraordinary powers as a draughtsman, carried away by sympathy with his burning artistic enthusiasm, he could wish for no other coadjutor. The invitation was accepted, and a connection was established equally honourable to both artists. No man was more original than Mr. Pugin. He held strongly certain principles, on the evolution of which he greatly disagreed with his friend: he was one whose name and genius could at all times command an independent authority. Yet for the furtherance of his art he was willing to accept a distinctly subordinate position, and to work under the superintendence and control of another. His acceptance of the post, and the spirit in which he discharged its duties, showed the generosity and unselfishness which were his well-known characteristics. Nor, on the other hand, could Mr. Barry be unaware of the danger of calling in a too powerful coadjutor. He knew the almost inevitable risk which he incurred of being supposed to wear other men’s laurels, of having all that was good or spirited in the details attributed to Mr. Pugin,[81] and of finding it difficult or impossible to control an enthusiasm, which might work in what seemed to him undesirable methods. But these things he resolutely put aside for the sake of an aid, which he thought likely to improve his great building, and which he knew to be genial and inspiriting to himself.[82] That Mr. Pugin was the last man in the world to encroach on another man’s authority or credit he knew, and that this confidence in his friend’s character was not misplaced is shown by the strong disclaimer which he put out, when an attempt was made to attribute to him more than he felt to be his due. The misapprehensions of others he could afford to disregard.

After Mr. Barry’s appointment as architect, he still received the same aid in preparing detailed drawings for the estimate, most of which however, by changes in design, were afterwards set aside. Finally, at his recommendation, Mr. Pugin was formally appointed superintendent of the wood carving, and in that capacity he directed, first the formation of a valuable collection of plaster casts of the most famous examples at home and abroad, and next the execution of the wood-work, ornamental metal-work, stained glass, and encaustic tiles throughout the whole building. But in all cases it was thoroughly understood between them, that the architect’s supremacy was to be unimpaired. Every drawing passed under his eye in all cases for supervision, in very many for alteration. Mr. Pugin’s originality and enthusiasm never interfered with this understanding: he would carry out vigorously and heartily what he himself could not altogether approve.[83] His suggestions and criticisms, freely given and freely received, were invaluable; and his enthusiasm, even in its eccentricities, was inspiring and irresistible. For more than five and twenty years the intercourse between the two friends and coadjutors continued, unbroken by any differences except in taste, and, when Mr. Pugin was struck down by his fatal illness, Mr. Barry felt that his loss was irreparable.

In the stone-carving Mr. Barry was fortunate in securing aid, only less valuable than that of Mr. Pugin. In the same work, at Birmingham, he discovered Mr. Thomas, then working as an ordinary stone-carver on the building. He was struck by his ability, skill, and energy, and at once resolved to aid in raising him to a position more worthy of his talents. After experience of his powers, he entrusted to him, under the same supervision, the entire direction of the stone-carving throughout the building. The result proved the wisdom of the choice. Under Mr. Thomas’s direction, stone-carving made a great step, which was felt in its effect upon architectural sculpture throughout the country, and which has conduced powerfully to the remarkable progress which it has since made up to the present time. With the general results of his exertions Mr. Barry was fully satisfied, and rejoiced greatly when his success in this capacity enabled him to take and to support elsewhere an independent position.

But an architect’s work is not purely artistic. The construction both of the New Palace itself and of the scaffolding used in its erection, taxed heavily scientific knowledge and ingenuity.[84] In fact, the whole timber or framed scaffolding, with travellers, by which a stone, perhaps elaborately carved, could be raised from the ground, and placed in its proper position, had seldom, if ever, before been employed on so large a scale. The constructional difficulties introduced by the need of preservation of old buildings, and of piecemeal occupation of the new ones, were great. But even greater were those caused by the frequent change and increase of official requirements in the course of the work; and most of all by the appointment of Dr. Reid, and his enormous claims of space for warming and ventilation, never known till the whole arrangement of plan and construction was settled.

Into all these difficulties Mr. Barry himself fully entered. He felt a positive pleasure in the expedients by which they were to be met; and in the invention of such expedients he was full of resources, and bold even to the verge of rashness. But his knowledge was more practical than theoretical, and in his work he received the most valuable assistance from the scientific knowledge, ingenuity, and power of contrivance of Mr. Meeson, who was for a long time his chief assistant in this branch of office work. His aid was zealously and unobtrusively given, and heartily appreciated. Working side by side with him, and bringing practical energy, daring, and ingenuity to carry out much difficult and hazardous work, Mr. Quarm did good service to the building, and showed an enthusiastic loyalty and devotion towards his chief.

Meanwhile in the office Mr. Barry had associated with himself a series of able and zealous assistants, who were destined hereafter to make themselves a place in the architectural profession. He certainly was able to kindle in them a rare degree of enthusiasm for art, side by side with a strong personal attachment to himself, arising chiefly from sympathy in this enthusiasm. And it can hardly be doubted, that his peculiar refinement of detail and proportion, his careful study of every part of a building, and his resolution to attempt, even in comparatively trifling works, originality and unity of effect, must have left their traces on the designs of those who had been associated with him.

It would be an almost endless work to recount the names of those who worked under his direction in the decoration of the New Palace. Messrs. Hardman in respect of the stained glass, Mr. Crace in the ornamental painting, Mr. Minton in the supply of the encaustic tiles, took far more than a commercial interest in the work. It is said truly, that much of the beauty and vigour of mediæval works arises from the fact, that the actual decorators worked artistically, with a view to the excellence of their work, and not merely to the wages to be received for it. If this spirit is reviving, or has revived, in the present day, much is probably due to the work on the New Palace at Westminster, where there certainly was in a very high degree this feeling among those who took subordinate parts in the work. It can be hardly wrong to attribute some measure at least of this feeling to the enthusiasm for art which actuated the leader. It is certainly a duty to record the deep sense which he entertained of it, and the support and encouragement which it gave him.

With these difficulties and with these supports, the work proceeded steadily and energetically. The time which elapsed from the actual commencement of the work in 1840, to the opening of the main part of the building in 1852, cannot be considered long, if the extent of the work be calculated, and its various drawbacks allowed for.

In February, 1847, the House of Peers was for the first time occupied, not with any ceremonial opening, but for ordinary public business. Some difficulty was at first apprehended as to the acoustic properties of the House; but as soon as the Peers became more used to their new House, the difficulty was greatly diminished, if not entirely removed.

Meanwhile the rest of the building proceeded rapidly. The public approaches were completed, the committee-rooms gradually prepared for use, and at last the House of Commons was opened. The temporary house having been very convenient, the members of the Lower House had not been very anxious to enter their new quarters. When they did so, they were somewhat dissatisfied with the change. In the construction of the House the architect had acted upon the instructions and advice of the leading officials; and the general effect of these instructions had been greatly to diminish the dimensions originally proposed, for the accommodation both of the House and the public.[85]

When the House met, with an attendance increased beyond its usual standard by excitement and curiosity, it was thought that this process of diminution had been carried too far, and it was resolved to increase the accommodation of the lobbies and galleries. To this alteration no artistic objection could be offered. But it was conceived, without, as Mr. Barry thought, sufficient trial and experience, that there was difficulty in hearing; and members, accustomed to the lowness of the temporary house, immediately concluded that it was the height of the present building which was in fault. It was imperatively ordered that the ceiling should be lowered, and the only way in which this could be done was by the introduction of an inner ceiling with sloping sides, cutting the side windows in half, and ruining the proportions of the room. Never was a work carried out by an architect more unwillingly. Mr. Barry could not feel that a sufficient trial had been made, to prove the necessity of the alteration. When it had been carried out, he no longer considered the House as his own work; and never would speak of it, or even enter it, without absolute necessity.

In 1852 the Royal approach was completed, and Her Majesty made, for the first time, her public entrance through the Victoria tower and the Royal gallery into the House of Peers. At the same time the great public approaches through Westminster and St. Stephen’s Hall were ready for use.

The main portions of the building might now be considered as finished, and the architect soon after was knighted by Her Majesty at Windsor. It was at a time, when he began to feel keenly the attacks made upon him, and the harassing controversies in which he had become involved. Such circumstances gave an unusual value to the honour conferred upon him by the Sovereign--almost the only official honour which in this country is offered to artistic or scientific merit, although it has to be shared with those who have no pretensions to either.

From this time the building proceeded quietly towards completion. The towers were the last finished. There was not, of course, the same pressure of necessity for their completion; the nature of the soil under their foundations demanded great care and deliberation in raising the superstructure; and their design perhaps gave more trouble to the architect than that of any other part of the building. “Nothing,” it has been truly said, “tended more to retard a general appreciation of the architectural merits of the New Palace than the necessarily slow and protracted realization of its chief vertical features and skyline.” The central tower was the first finished; next came the clock-tower; and finally the great mass of the Victoria tower received its last stone. The great flagstaff rising above was added subsequently. It was indeed the last object which engaged his professional attention in the building, and was left unfinished at his death. The drawings of the flagstaff, and the lantern-work at the base, with its screens and flying buttresses, were made by his son (E. M. Barry, Esq.) in accordance with his known intentions. But it was on a temporary wooden staff, that the great flag was hoisted “half mast high” on the day of Sir Charles’s funeral.