It is rather remarkable that the revival of the manufacture of terra cotta, or more properly of artificial stone, in England, should have been effected by a lady. About sixty years ago, Miss Coade, from Lyme Regis, possessing a large share of scientific knowledge and energy, embarked in a small manufactory of artificial stone in Lambeth, which, by her perseverance and good management, eventually attained a considerable degree of celebrity. To this original establishment in Lambeth the merit is due of greatly improving the composition of the material, and the processes by which its permanent character was attained. The proprietor had also sufficient enterprise and discrimination to avail herself of the talents of some distinguished artists, and thus produced works of a superior character, which may fairly vie with those of the chisel. The bas-relief in the pediment over the western portico at Greenwich Hospital, representing the Death of Nelson, was designed by West, and executed by Bacon and Panzetta, who also modelled many other distinguished works.

With respect to modern instances of the use of artificial stone, St. Pancras Church may be considered as one of the most important; the greater part of the ornamental details being formed of this material, at the large outlay of 54001. The work was executed by Mr. Rossi, from the designs of Mr. Inwood, the architect: and, according to present appearances, the material promises to be very durable. About the same time extensive bas-reliefs, colossal figures, and other decorations, executed in the same material, were placed on the front of the Custom House, London, but these specimens have been removed. The statue of Britannia, made of artificial stone, which crowns the Nelson column at Yarmouth, remains uninjured by the exposure, to which the stone work seems to be yielding. The Bau-Akademia, in Berlin, by chinkel, is a remarkable example of the modern adaptation of moulded brick and terra-cotta, of which every part, even the face of the walls, is most carefully wrought and finished.

Having taken a general view of the history of the art in question, and its application in various ages and countries, it may be proper to give some account of the composition and modes of forming and perfecting the artificial stone as now practised. It has been already stated that the ancient examples are evidently formed simply of fine clay, or brick earth-carefully prepared and well burnt--and they are, therefore, precisely of the same nature as coarse pottery ware, and are correctly designated "Terra-cotta;" but the modern artificial stone is a very different substance, and greatly superior to them in hardness, texture, and colour. The result of inquiry at several establishments shows that some difference exists, both in the composition and processes adopted by the respective manufacturers, but without any obvious difference in the results. The principal ingredient is the white potter's clay, forming about one-half; pulverised stone ware from one-third to one-fifth; ditto glass, from one-fourth to one-ninth; and some add, for finer purposes, a small portion of white Ryegate sand and powdered flint, about one-tenth part of each: these ingredients are carefully mixed in a pug-mill to a stiff consistence suitable for modelling or moulding, and then worked into the various forms required. With a view to ensure perfect burning, an uniform thickness must be preserved in all parts, usually about 14-inch, but proportionate to the bulk and strength required; considerable attention is necessary in the process of drying that it should be slow and regular, so as to avoid any distortion of form; the time to be allowed must, in some measure, be governed by the state of the atmosphere and other circumstances. The same considerations regulate the burning, which should proceed by very slow degrees to a white heat, and ample time should be allowed for cooling: the practice in these respects-which appears to vary very widely in different manufactories-allows from ten to fourteen days for drying, from seven to fourteen for burning, and three or four days for cooling.

The kiln at Messrs. W. Cubitt and Co.'s, which may be taken as an ordinary example, is a cylinder of 10ft. 6in. diameter externally, and 10 feet high to the base of the cone. The enclosing wall is two bricks thick, having a large opening for packing and unpacking the articles to be burnt. When the kiln is filled, this is closed up with lumps, preparatory to lighting the furnaces. The interior is lined with tiles -inch thick, grooved and tongued together, and set in Stourbridge clay, leaving a vacancy of 4 inches, which is called the muffling, all round. There are two furnaces, and about three tons of coals (Hartley's) are consumed in one burning. The progress of the burning is ascertained by looking through an inspection-hole with a lens in the side of the kiln,

Having been led to the consideration of this subject with a view to its practical application, I venture to adduce some instances in

which I have used artificial stone, combined with other materials, in the construction of cornices, which, at the same time, serve the purpose of eaves gutters. The advantages proposed in these cases were lightness and strength, with durability and economy. In one example here exhibited, it will be seen that, as a mere corona of the cornice, it gives apparent magnitude to the elevation, with very slight addition of substance or weight. The material, from its hardness and imperishability, is best suited to the situation where it is most exposed to injuries. It also forms a rim, or margin, which throws back the water instead of allowing it to run down over the face of the mouldings in the usual way, in which the top slopes outwards; and by which, in a smoky atmosphere, the cornice is liable to be much defaced and injured. Another example refers to the cornice of a pediment, therefore it is independent of any gutter. In another example the gutter is at the back of the cornice, and is of a distinct construction. In another the gutter is contained within the facia and crown mould, forming a continued trough, resting on a course of slate slabs, which constitute the soffit of the cornice. And, in the last example, the gutter forms a separate portion, lapping over a facia, which is also of artificial stone; and the whole is supported on slate slabs, as the preceding one. The several parts are united lengthwise, by rebated joints, set in white lead, and bedded in cement on the brick and slate. The Greek examples, before alluded to, first led me to this practical application of terra-cotta. It should be observed, that the chief difficulty in preparing this material for the several purposes mentioned, is its liability to become distorted in drying and burning. To avoid this it is necessary that the pieces should be short in proportion to their width; and then the deflections (which in some degree are unavoidable) may be so adjusted in setting as not to be conspicuous; and as the cornice is the part most remote from inspection, the imperfection is the less observable. Further, it may be presumed, that if the use of artificial stone were more general, and occasioned consequently a greater demand for this description of work, some means would no doubt be found for rendering the manufacture more perfect. In order to obtain a fall or current in the trough gutters, the bottoms are partially filled up with Portland cement having the greatest thickness towards the centre, and gradually diminished to the outlets. This, besides facilitating the discharge of the rain water, serves to strengthen the construction, by covering the joints and fortifying the sides. The colour of artificial stone assimilates tolerably well with Portland or Caen stone, but the texture is liable to have too much of the glare of pottery. Its durability, if properly manufactured, may be deemed almost unlimited, and its economy, if judiciously applied, is a further recommendation; but this involves many important considerations for the judgment and discretion of the architect.

Although these remarks have properly been limited to terra-cotta and artificial stone, which, as the designation of the first implies, have to undergo the action of fire; yet, as the latter is now applied to a material prepared by a different process, it may not be irrelevant to make some mention of it on the present occasion. It appears that this substance consists of a concrete, formed with cement and sand, variously proportioned, and the forms are produced from moulds; consequently one of its chief advantages is economy where uumerous repetitions are required. If a nice finish is desired, these productions can be worked up and sharpened by

the chisel.

This art has been practised for about twenty years; but it is more particularly within the last ten years that it has been brought into very extensive use: the experience, therefore, of its durability is, at present, rather limited; but, at all events, great credit is due to the manufacturers, for the taste evinced in many of their productions, which constitute another resource, in cases where the works of the sculptor would be excluded by their great expense.

Reverting to terra-cotta, I beg, in conclusion, to observe, that it may be seen from what has been stated, that it possesses many valuable qualities and recommendations when introduced with skill and discrimination-viz., strength, durability, and economy; more particularly where high relief and sharpness are required, and for parts extensively repeated. That it affords the most perfect oppor tunity for the development of artistic talent in the higher branches of art, inasmuch as the model in this case becomes the original and permanent work; embodying in all its freshness the original touch and conception of the artist. Further, and in regard to structural considerations, that it may be combined with other materials, so as to afford increased means and fac for giving architectural expression with sound construction

THE POETRY OF ARCHITECTURE.

A paper read by JAMES EDMESTON, jun., at the General Meeting of the Architectural Association, May 31st, 1850.

If it be true that Architecture is a fine art; that it is eminently capable of receiving the marks and impressions of mind and intellect; if it has the power of reflecting the radiations of the heaven-born fire of genius-why, then, it is most truly poetical. For what is poetry but a combination of all these? and to talk of the poetry of architecture is not a mere form of unmeaning words, but expresses a fact that should attract our attention and study, since it cannot be possible for us to place the standard of our art too high, or to fix a limit to the excellencies of which it may be capable.

That architecture does possess all these characteristics, I think few will deny; and if to some, such expressions may seem to belong to mere theory, I will ask them, at all events, to allow what is, unfortunately, evident enough-that the opposite of these things exists; that is to say, that want of harmony, that bad taste, which we commonly call vulgarity, and which is the offspring of an uneducated mind and low order of imagination. If, then, it is too certain that architectural forms have the power of conveying to the mind such impressions as these, I must contend that it is absurd and impossible to say that improvement is not to be made. The mind instinctively points out what is vulgar, deformed, and unpoetic: there must of necessity be the reverse of all this, and the mind will discern and approve what is beautiful, poetic, and proportionate.

It does appear to me that more profit than may be at first sight apparent, may be derived from the study of the art under such an aspect as that now under consideration, since the desire of excellence is the incentive to all exertion; and the more fully the mind is impressed with the glorious height and perfection which may be attained, the more firmly and determinately will it buckle on the armour of thought to the task, the more intently will it labour to surmount the difficulties of the road, and gaze firmly on the goal which it desires to reach,-while without faith in the result of our exertions we can achieve nothing.

What I would call the true poetry of the art is that combination of mass, that disposition of outline, that moulding of form and arrangement of detail, which should be guided by taste the most elevated and refined, and, above all, should speak to the beholder clearly and intelligibly, with a voice mighty yet inward-a work, the contemplation of which, like the divine strains of melodious music, should elevate and purify the mind, encouraging those sensations of the soul which partake least of the earthly clay from which we have sprung, but which, with purity and intensity, yield charms to the imagination far beyond those of a grosser nature; appealing to the sensibility of the soul, and to those innate perceptions of the beautiful which God has implanted in all his intelligent creatures, the external harmony from without, finding an internal response within us. Very mysterious and subtle are these influences of what we call "the beautiful," or, as I have called their highest expression, the poetry of art and nature-neither to my mind existing only in the power of perception, but an actuality in the thing perceived; not wholly a matter of the intellect (to be merely acquired like scholastic learning), though certainly to be cultivated and improved,-but partaking of all these; consisting of none wholly, but in part of all; an absolute outward principle, fact, and perfection, existing in and pervading all things, though often we may not perceive or understand it. Yet it is of great importance that we should believe it is to be achieved and evolved; for if not, we may fall into that frigid and philosophic view of our art, which will so alter its nature, that we shall no longer be able to talk of its poetry; and may at last reduce it to a mere manufacture, or to be worked out like a mathematical problem-not taught to spring into warm life by the creative power of genius, full of powerful thought, and clothed with the glowing expressions of poetry. We should, then, gladly welcome those refining influences of high art, allowing that such things may be and are, and strive to improve them to the uttermost. I have not alluded to colour as being a primary agent in producing these effects, because I certainly think that, although an important element and not to be despised, yet that it is certainly altogether secondary to form, arrangement, &c.

All fine art must be poetic; for is it not the illuminating power of genius, and the thoughtful ardour of a superior mind, which, working upon the natural rough and intractable material, makes of the block of unshapen stone an Apollo Belvidere, or arranges colours with true and powerful harmony on the canvas?

Perhaps it may not be an inapt simile to compare the works of the painter and sculptor to the sonnet, every word of which should contain the richest imagery and most suggestive thought, polished and refined with the greatest care, and yet brought into so small a compass; while the architect's works come more nearly to the grand, less-minutely finished, but powerful and majestic, epic-in part forcible and striking, in part subdued and general; varying in description, but as a whole, grand and complete.

Let us, however, endeavour to trace the poetical element in the old world efforts of architectural art. To begin with the halftemple, half-palace, erections of the Egyptians-the great temple of Karnac, for example; this, and most of the other productions of Egyptian art, do not, I think, bear evidence that the artist was actuated so much by higher impulses, as by the desire to produce something grandiose and magnificent: as if each dynasty wished to leave the page of its history indelibly written, and set up on the face of the land for succeeding ages to wonder at, rather than moved by any deep religious feeling, or any of those higher aims which would have ensured more perfect results. Wonderful, majestic, and surprising as are their works, I do not consider that they exhibit so much mental vigour as perhaps every other style, nor much elegance of mind; in fine, I think that if the Egyptians had taken a higher aim, and been actuated by higher purposes, they would then have produced, with their wonderful technical ability and resources, works of a higher stamp, and in all respects much superior: but they seem to have been wanting in imagination, and, from some circumstances of position or habit, to have been deficient to some extent in poetical genius-learned and scientific though they certainly were.

But leaving this era of art, and turning to the Greek—what an extraordinary difference do we find! The characteristics and purposes of the former style are quite gone (I do not mean mere evidences of relationship and descent, but of feeling and thought); and I think that it must be allowed that here the poetical element exists most strongly. In Grecian buildings we see the language of mind, earnest, determined, elevated, and poetical-a purity of thought and loftiness of idea which is the more surprising when we consider the grossness of their religious myths and other circumstances of their position. Let us suppose the Parthenon as it was first erected, fresh and unmutilated-from its vastness, imposing and arresting the attention of the beholder; with its just proportions, pleasing and delighting his eye; and with its general purity of design, refining and elevating the emotions of his soul: exciting no one thought displeasing and gross, but leaving him better and happierhe can scarcely tell you why-for having seen it. Yet the reason is no more than this, and as we have before observed, that genius and thought can make themselves felt and evident, and can speak to the minds of others, no matter through what medium-imparting a feeling which language can hardly express, but which the soul can well understand; even as the poet will carry away his hearers or readers by the creations of his fancy conveyed in words.

Coming next to Roman art; I think we find the poetical element much less clearly expressed. The reason I take to be, that the Romans had naturally no such soul-felt love for their art as the Greeks had; their time and attention were too much otherwise occupied; they wanted, to a great extent, that elegance of mind which the Greeks possessed; and their fondness for military pomp and grandeur, and for outward show, made itself apparent and overruling in their architecture: for to do much and largely seems rather to have been their aim than to do well thoughtfully and carefully. They seem to me much more the works of a great nation than of a refined one; and therefore, as we have argued must be the case, to possess much less poetic feeling and poetic influence, in spite of the grand proportions of a Colosseum, or the enrichments of a temple to Jupiter Tonans.

The creations of the modern Italian school, great and wonderful as they many of them are, still suffer from the errors of their parentage; and are, generally speaking, certainly wanting in those higher attributes to which we at first alluded, notwithstanding all the bright names which adorn the list of masters, and the many works which they have left behind them worthy of our respect and admiration. Yet, perhaps I ought to except in some degree the minor productions of some of the masters of this school-the loveliness exhibited in the beautiful gardens, where fount and bridge, temple and loggia, under the clear blue sky and amidst Italian foliage, speak visions of love and romance, and produce an imaginative world in harmony with itself,

In the Romanesque we find a certain rudeness of invention, yet fervour of thought and boldness of fancy, full of great merits. This style would appear the production of a society struggling

under many disadvantages, yet ruggedly bent on escaping from deteriorating influences, and on writing its name and destiny in characters of its own: not to be imitated or copied in detail certainly not to be despised, but to be respected for its truthfulness and earnestness, and honoured for its spirit. I need only mention the churches of Pavia, Verona, Lucca, Pisa, &c., to recal to your recollection the masterly and vigorous characteristics of this style; they all bear the impress of a certain freeness of idea, which is certainly poetry, though not of the first order.

To pass over these periods of art however, thus lightly touched upon, let us look at the Mediæval styles-I mean all of those usually called Gothic: but as time and space confine us to a short limit, I wish to regard merely that of our own country.

In the Saxon examples, the art must have been at so low an ebb, that it would be fruitless to expect any of the higher expressions. In the Norman, we find an evident and increasing improvement, with, I think, much of the same feeling as the early Romanesque— instance Norwich Cathedral-which becomes greater and greater in the transition, till we arrive at the well-developed Early English; a change gradual, yet rapid, and every way marvellous. And here, I think, we may trace the evidences of a spirit and genius which, considering the state of society, the iron-bound darkness of the age, and the heavy curtain of ignorance that hung over the land, comes most surprisingly near in spirit and perfection to the Greek-an assertion which, to some, may appear bold and untenable; yet, let us consider carefully the beautiful proportions of some of the specimens of that style which still remain to us, the purity of invention, the graceful combinations, the pure style of ornament in the foliations, the play of light and shade in the deep undercut mouldings: the whole truthful, fine in conception, and most suitable to its purposes. And in calling all this to mind, let us suppose a cathedral as entire and complete; not with the admixture of other styles or periods, as we now see it, but of a piece from turret to crypt; and will any one deny that such a building gives evidences of the highest poetic spirit, and must strike a beholder even as we have contended such a building should and must do? There are some, perhaps, who will say, "Very fine, truly, your gargoyles, grotesque, and sometimes indecent groups and figures, &c." To such I should reply, that these are but the greater proofs of my position: what are they more than the evidences of that state of society which renders the contrast of general perfection in the art so much the more to be wondered at; what more than the weeds here and there pressing through, but unable so to choke the soil as to interfere, except so slightly, with the plant which has grown up on its surface to beauty and grandeur, notwithstanding and in spite of all. Consider all this, and I think it may fairly be allowed that this phase of English art is not so far behind the lofty standard of the Greek. Let me be understood not to say that this period of English art is to be put side by side, and in the same parallel, with the Greek-but that it is much of the same spirit and order; and, in other words, that if the outward social influences had been the same, there is much to show that English architects could have achieved even what the Greek architects did;-and if so, then why not again now?

I cannot allow that it is by association that we admire this style so much as some people would have us think. It may certainly have some influence; but if it were wanting, I do not think we should admire the less. Association and habit may lead us to overlook and bear with what is faulty, but can never create beauties unless they actually exist. Nor do I see wholly the force of the notion that the Greek has the more intellectual expression, the other the more spiritual; least of all would I exalt the one at the expense of the other, and impart a false colouring by such empty jargon, thus applied, as Pagan and Christian. Every superior effort of genius is spiritual and intellectual-both, if directed rightly; and without doubt the class of mind and spirit was the same in both cases, although in the one sadly clogged and trammelled by outward influences. And I do think that this era of English art was infused strongly with what we have called its poetry; and it is a matter of great regret that it should have rested so short a time at this point. With surprise we see the rapid transition to the geometric period, which, had it been continued under those mental influences that governed the development of the Early English, would, I think, most likely have surpassed it-since the prevailing ideal was as pure, while the scope for design was more extended. Yet, alas! strange as it may seem, the cunning and wise spirit of the first inventors seems gradually to have left their successors, and to have become extinct; till in the Perpendicular it became less strong, and in the later periods of that style still less and less, till at last it became utterly debased and lost. This was

sad: but it was a worse blow for high art when the revival styles were introduced; this shut off the connection with the past entirely, and what had been done previously became quite lost and forgotten; and although no man of genius can touch anything without making his mind and talent felt and acknowledged, yet not to call it impossible, he can hardly succeed in infusing the highest spirit into his works if he is forced to walk on the line chalked out for him, instead of choosing the path he would desire to travel. A Thorpe could do good things in a bad cause, yet in the revival styles generally, I confess I cannot discover (except with a few exceptions) that poetic spirit of which we have been speaking. Although a Wren erected a St. Paul's, which is one of the wonders of the world, we cannot but feel, I think, the falling off, and what it might have been otherwise the case; but while we do so, let us humbly do homage to the great genius which, under such circumstances, could do so well and magnificently, and deplore the arbitrary laws of fashion and public opinion that placed him in such a position: who was truly a poet and artist of the first order, and has left works which are indeed strongly imbued with that spirit and feeling which forms our subject. I have said that we have had architects among us whose treatment and governing tone of thought have been of the same order, and of as high an aspiration, as those of the Greek period; while certainly our architects of the revival school have shown themselves at least equal to any of those of the Palladian era; and nothing shall make me believe that in this day we have not men among us equal for brilliancy of thought and purity of taste to any that ever lived. The tone of society is higher, loftier influences are at work, than existed in the time of the ancient Greeks; and if things as great and beautiful do not come to pass, let the nation look for the cause in itself-in its arbitrary demands and own choosing-in its refusal to encourage those whose life is devoted to the study of the art-in its cruel fashion which has made a false state of things almost necessary-and as much in the mercenary spirit which governs all its actions: when the truth is, that high art can never be bought at too high a price, or its kindly influences valued too dearly.

It is probable that the present fashion of reverting to the mediæval styles for one branch of the art is not without its good effects; if we may only be led by it to search patiently for and find the lost thread which will guide us to excellence and improvementthat is, to seize the spirit and work it out-not be content with the form; and if we will only determine to scorn the quack prescriptions and abominable inculcations of a Cambridge Camden Society. We may expect to retrograde, indeed, if we are never to get beyond the school-boy work of merely copying what is put before us; nay, more, to ensure that nothing may be wrong, I believe, in some cases, one church has been transplanted by the exact copying of stone for stone, and moulding for moulding, to some distant situation, most likely very unsuitable for the design. What sad folly is this-what exquisite contempt does it heap on the architects of this generation.

A better and more inquiring spirit is, however, abroad; let us all hope that the system and faults we condemn will gradually be broken through and overcome. Above all, let us not despair; for as I remarked at the outset, the higher the aim, the more satisfactory must be the result of our efforts. Even though we fall far short of what we could wish, one thing is evident-that no man can be great when he studies only to be little.

MILITARY ARCHITECTURE OF GREAT BRITAIN.

On the Military Architecture of Great Britain. By the Rev. C. H. Architects, May 6th, 1850.) HARTSHORNE. (Paper read at the Royal Institute of British

Mr. HARTSHORNE commenced by observing:-When I acceded to the request that I should offer you a few remarks upon the Military Architecture of the Edwardian Age, I did not sufficiently consider that my own researches had been of a desultory nature, and that they would necessarily want that practical illustration which the subject can only receive from those who make the science of architecture their constant study. Nor did I recollect that the branch of it to which I had turned the greater part of my attention, was one that had lain in comparative neglect by the profession, under an idea that it offers little deserving of imitation in modern buildings, and therefore that I should have to conciliate in some degree the comparative disfavour with which it has been generally regarded. Yet I have been encouraged, under the hope that having endeavoured to throw some fresh light upon a dark

portion of Architectural history, the facts I have brought together might add something to our limited knowledge of Pyrgology. Having carefully measured these different buildings, whose plans now hang on the walls (for without having applied the two-foot rule, and five-feet rods, I feel convinced that no remarks would be entitled to the least consideration,) having examined them in analogy with the respective systems of fortification peculiar to the period, and in detailed connection with each other, and subsequently consulted those evidences stored up among the national records which serve to disclose the circumstances and the cost of their erection, I thought, as we have all a common object in view, I might venture to lay before you the conclusions to which they have given rise. But I undertake this agreeable office, not influenced by the supposition of instructing so many from whom I ought to learn, but rather with the view of simply stating the results which this combined method of illustration has originated in my own mind. The announcement has, perhaps, been made public in too extended and general terms, for a discussion of the Military Architecture of Great Britain would occupy more time than the Institute might feel justified, even under more competent guid-❘ ance, in bestowing upon it; and I will therefore, for present convenience, confine the attention to those leading features which the subject presents under the Norman and Edwardian periods. Passing over the numerous earthworks thrown up by the Britons against the Roman invaders, fortifications which, especially on the North Welsh borders, excite our astonishment for their magnitude and strength; and, disregarding those carefully built walls, which the conquerors subsequently erected to preserve their newlyacquired possessions, I will come at once to a time when there is direct evidence to show the precise date, the methods adopted, and the charge of building, some of the most important English and Welsh Castles. Of the Conqueror's castles, we know little more than what we read in Domesday,' which is simply that of the fortynine enumerated in his survey, he built eight himself, and the rest were erected by his barons. Our only true source of information concerning them are the official documents of the time; and, after the great survey, we have a break in the series of records till

we come to the Sheriffs' accounts.

Mr. Hartshorne then proceeded to explain the nature and importance of the official documents still existing, and known as the Pipe Rolls, the Clause Rolls, the Liberati, the Patent, and the Minister or Chamberlain's Accounts, all of which are kept in regnal years. The following may serve to illustrate the value of the information to be obtained from examination of these documents. From the Pipe Rolls we learn the dates, as well as the cost of construction, of different portions of the castles described in them :

Mr. Hartshorne then explained, referring at the same time to the plans and drawings on the walls, the parts and appendages of a castle, their uses, and relative positions, viz.:-The Keep-the Fosse the Barbican-the Portcullis-Stockade-Enceinte, or Cingulum-the Baly-Donjon-Loops-Oillets-Cross OilletsBattlements-Crenelles-Embrasures-Merlons - Alures - Vawmer-Postern Gate; or Sally Port-Drawbridge; or Pons tornatilis -Gemews-Bastions-Towers-Turrets - Machicolations-False Machicolations. He next alluded, in further explanation of the subject, to the instructive and magnificent pile of Caerphilly, with its leaning tower, 9 feet out of perpendicular, and to Bridgnorth Castle, whose ruined tower inclines some 25 feet, and bears evident marks of reparations at its base having been made at different periods.

The names and duties of the officers attached to a castle were then described-viz., the Constable; the Ingeniator; the Attiliator; the Garritor, or Sentry; the Porter; and the Watchman, for whose shelter shutters were contrived in the embrasures of his watch turret. As Engineers, mention was made of Alnod, at the Tower, temp. 20 Hen. II., 1174; Yoo, at Windsor; Bayard, Nottingham, 7 John; Ganfridus, at the Tower, 37 Hen. I.; Albert and Urric, Hen III.; Richard, Edw. I.

A succinct description of Norman castles followed, in which it was stated, that they were generally built after the same model, and that they have usually a keep, or square building, on a mound or elevated portion of ground. A remarkable feature of the keep is, that the entrance is on the first floor. The walls are strengthened at the sides by shallow buttresses, which die into the face of the work before they reach the summit. The earliest have no portcullis. They were defended by outer walls, of the circle of which they sometimes form a part, as Pevensey.

The keeps are of various shapes, the quadrangular form being the most common; as at Rochester, Porchester, Canterbury, Rising, Heddingham, Norwich, Newcastle. Sometimes they are of polygonal shape, as at Kilpeck, Caerdiff, Coningsboro' Chillham, and Orford. At others, they are circular, as at Skenfrith, Pickering, and Launceston, to which class may be assigned Alnwick. The solid type of the Norman keep passed, by an easy gradation, into the geometrical form, as seen in Clifford's Tower at York, and later again at Barnswell, 1264, Hen. III. The transition from this to the concentricity of the Edwardian, was natural and easy. Of the Norman and Edwardian forms, all later ones are only

modifications.

To illustrate the gradual progress which took place in building these castles, attention was called to the Castle of Alnwick, in Northumberland, which was commenced by Yoo de Vesci, temp. Hen. I. William de Vesci, 26 Edw. I., having no legal issue, enfeoffed it to that great prelate, Anthony Bek, Bishop of Durham, in social confidence that he should hold them for William de Vesci, his illegitimate son, till he came of age. But being irritated by some slanderous words he had spoken, he afterwards sold the castle, 19th Nov. 1309 (3 Edw. II.) to Henry de Percy. He made large bequests to Fountains' Abbey, where he was buried before the high altar, dying in the 8 Edw. II. His son Henry, who succeeded him, built the octagonal towers of entrance into the inner baly, about the year 1350, as is shown by the armorial bearings of the Nevilles, Fitzwalters, and Umfruanville, inscribed on shields under the battlements. This castle was visited by King John, Edw. 1., Edw. II., and William, king of Scotland, was taken prisoner under the walls in 1174.

The remaining portion of the paper had reference to the Edwardian Castles of Wales, and consisted chiefly of a detailed account of the progress of the works at Conway and Caernarvon, being the result of a very long and diligent research, among the records before alluded to, in connection with a careful examination, measurement, and delineation of those buildings. Mr. Hartshorne demonstrated that the works were commenced at Caernarvon, 10th November 12 Edw. I. (1284), six weeks after the execution of Prince David, at Shrewsbury; and at Conway, 28th October, 11 Edw. I. (1283), thus showing that the latter castle preceded the former by a few months in the date of its erection; and that the walls round the town of Caernarvon were built in the 14th year (1286), when some portion of the castle was covered in with lead, and the works were in progress in the fosse. That in the same

year the castle at Harlech was begun, and that at Criccaeth repaired. That the works at Caernarvon were in progress, 19 Edw. I. (1291) That little had been done besides the town walls and the fosse round the future castle, when Edw. I. visited the town, for the first time, 1st April, 1284. That his son, the Prince of Wales, was born there on the 25th of the same month, but by no possibility in the Eagle Tower, as usually asserted. That after little progress in the 19th and 21st years, what had been erected was rendered useless by Madoc's insurrection, in the 23rd year (1295), and the works were begun anew from the north-east angle, and thence along the southern side. That the records and the change in the masonry showed the north side to be of different ages the earliest some time between 23 and 29 Edw. I. That the Eagle Tower was the work of Edw. II., as shown by records expressly relating to its erection, and by the form and character of its mouldings. That it was roofed in the month of November, 1316; floored in February, 1317; and the eagle was placed on the battlement the first week of March. That the upper portion of the north side of the castle, entrance-gate, &c., were finished 13 Edw. II (1320), and the royal effigy fixed there the last week of April, in the same year.

This detailed statement of the progress of the works entirely controverted the general opinion, that Caernarvon Castle was constructed in the short space of twelve months, and proved that the present buildings were the labour of 38 years, and being carried on from 1284 to 1322, even extended into two reigns. The early progress of Conway was traced in a similar manner, and an account was also given of the actual state of the thirteen royal castles in North and South Wales, 17 Edw. III. (1343), which had been granted by him to his son, the Black Prince, when a large sum was estimated to be required for repairs, nearly half of which was essential for the castles of North Wales..

Many of the extracts from the calendars, expense rolls, and other documents, quoted in the course of the paper, were highly interesting, from the precise way in which they exhibited the industrial economy of the time, the rate of wages, the price of material, and the method of carrying on large works; and the paper itself was illustrated by several plans and drawings of a large size.

Mr. Hartshorne having concluded his paper, Mr. COCKERELL, the Chairman, said "All present will, I am sure, join gladly in returning thanks to the Rev. Mr. Hartshorne, for the very luminous discourse he has given us on the Castles of Great Britain, and more especially on those of the time of the two first Edwards. To a great country, rich in historical associations, such a subject must, at all times, be deeply interesting, and it is one well worthy the consideration of the antiquary and the historian, as illustrating a portion of our national architecture. It is, moreover, especially interesting to us, as revealing the relative state of the art of building, and of our own profession in those early times, as well as the rate of wages, and the condition of the working community. We are greatly indebted to our reverend friend for investigating the very minute and authentic resources which he has opened to us; and in expressing our obligations to him, permit me to say, that I do not know which to admire most, the elegance, or the perspicuity with which he has presented to us this curious lore, which tends in so remarkable a degree to illustrate the state and position of our art in the middle ages."

Mr. DONALDSON: "The Institute is much indebted to our reverend friend, for making its members acquainted with these remarkable documents, relating to the construction of this interesting group of castles. That no body of men could, I believe, appreciate better than this body, the importance of the information he has placed before us, will, I think be acknowledged when I state, that about ten years ago, the Institute offered its medal for the best restoration of an ancient castle, and that we possess a very skilful set of plans representing the castle of Sheriff Hutton, designed by Mr. Sharp, jun., then of York, and accompanied by a learned dissertation upon the relation the different parts of the castle bear to each other. The reverend gentleman, admirable as was his paper, has stopped short on the threshold. He has given us the dates and cost, and its progressive development; but it would be still more interesting, if possible, were he to give us an account of the connection of the different parts of the castle, with the reference they bear to each other, and the reasons for the differences which exist between them-why one tower should project more than anotherwhy some should be polygonal, some round, and some of complex configurations-why, in short, there should be such differences under similar circumstances as those apparent in the examples now displayed on our wall. It would be interesting to know how far

the builders of these castles were acquainted with that well known rule of fortification, by which the inner gate was so placed that, as the attacking warriors approached, the sides of their column were inevitably exposed to the assault of the defenders. It would also be interesting to understand the reasons for the different modes of defence adopted in various castles-the difference in their internal arrangements-whether any rule guided the mode of placing the apartments of the family of the lord of the castle, his domestic servants, his military retainers, and the stores, commissariat or warlike. It would, moreover, be desirable to know, what was the proper position of the keep; whether it ought to be part of the defence of the enceinte, or in the centre of the court, and whether, at different periods, and in different parts of the country it assumed diverse positions. Again, it would be interesting to know if there was any particular locality for the great hall, or chapel, in the castle; which was generally placed in the inner parts, and which nearer the enceinte; whether the enceinte itself was always a large continuous wall like that of Alnwick; and, what in short, was the purpose of every portion intended to serve in these great military defences. Many of us now present, who have visited Greece, cannot, I think, help drawing a comparison between the castles now exhibited to us and the Acropolis of Athens, and the other ancient cities of that country; and in so doing, we find several points which appear to me to be analogous, as the high walls forming the enceinte, and the central building inclosed within it-in the one instance, the great temple-in the other, the Norman keep. It is interesting to find these features of the ancient Grecian Acropolis repeated in our own medieval fortresses. It will be observed that many, if not most of the castles here illustrated have an outer and inner ballium or court, here termed baly. It has occurred to me, that possibly the Old Bailey of London may derive its name from having been a ballium or court attached to New Gate, which anciently stood at the end of Newgate-street. I leave it to City antiquaries to enquire into this presumed coincidence. I hope the reverend gentleman, who is deeply versed in this subject, will consent another time to instruct us further by taking a larger sphere, and making us better acquainted with the military spirit of those early times. I should like to have some comparision of the cost of erecting these Edwardian castles and those of modern times, such as Penrhyn castle, or the alterations at Windsor castle. Indeed it might not be uninstructive to compare the outlay on our modern Houses of Parliament with that on the buildings so ably brought before us to night." Mr. Donaldson concluded by moving a vote of thanks to Mr. Hartshorne.

Mr. TITE, in seconding the vote of thanks, said "I also must express a hope that our reverend friend will hereafter carry his historical inquiry a little further, and explain what has often struck me as very singular-viz., the poverty of the Scottish castles, as compared with the grandeur and magnificence of those of Wales. All the Scottish castles together, could, I believe, be put within the enceinte of Caernarvon Castle; while Bute Castle might be ensconced in the Eagle Tower. I do not know whether the reverend gentleman has confined his researches in the Pipe Rolls exclusively to these castles, or whether, indeed, those ancient records contain any account of the building of the Scottish castles. I would also ask a question with regard to the keeps. There is no keep proper at either Caernarvon or Conway; at least no such keep as the tower at Norwich Castle, and in other Norman castles, to which the defender of the building could retreat as a stronghold when the enceinte was taken. How is that omission to be accounted for? There was, no doubt, a similarity in the character of the erections for defence in Greece, as for instance at Mycena and at Athens, and that of the buildings now before us. There was the bold escarpment, or wall built upon the summit of a natural escarpment, as in these Norman castles; and in all, great skill was shown in the way in which the natural irregularity of the ground was turned to advantage. It would be interesting to know the mode of construction employed in the erection of some of these great towers, as well as the thickness of the walls compared with the area they inclose; whether the walls are of solid stone, or merely ashlar filled in with concrete, and bonded; and in short, their general mode of construction, as in all such enormous superstructures great care is requisite to prevent settlements and other evil consequences. I must say, it struck me that 8d. a-day to the clerk of the works was a large amount of pay, as compared with that of the workmen, and particularly, when we consider that 30 or 40 years were expended in the erection of these buildings, instead of 30 or 40 months, as in the present times. I think we are much indebted to our reverend friend for the great industry and talent he has displayed in his able paper."