The Exeter drawings of John Carter: a rare book in a private collection in New Zealand.
This article has two specific aims. The first is to examine in detail the contents of the Exeter Cathedral book, because it has never been considered in such a manner before. While John Carter's life and works have been regarded in broad terms in previous publications, there has never been a comprehensive study of any of his individual works. (3) The second is to consider elements of the context in which Carter was working, in order to show how Carter's contentious beliefs about medieval architecture came about and how they then became a part of the publications he produced.
John Carter's career has had an important legacy for the history of Gothic architecture. The precision of his drawing and Basires engraving led to a greater accuracy and detail in draughting than had been previously used in architectural publications. This reflected the gradual shift seen in historical publications of the period, from reliance on textual evidence towards documentary evidence. In addition, Carter argued that Gothic architecture originated in England. However erroneous he was in this, it was a concept that persisted in architectural literature for many generations. Third, Carter's call for the preservation of medieval monuments was extremely important for the survival of many structures, and for the recording of many edifices that have since been destroyed.
The Exeter book acts as a microcosm of Carter's work: in it, we can see evidence of the quality of the draughtsmanship and the engraving, Carter's advocacy of the English origins of Gothic architecture, and the need for preserving medieval monuments, demonstrating the book's significance and value as a vivid example of Carter's work.
I. The Exeter Cathedral Book
Among Carter's publications are the books known as the Cathedral Series, a collection of six books containing plans and elevations of St Stephen's Chapel, Westminster (drawings 1790-94; publication 1795), Exeter Cathedral (drawings 1792-96; publication 1797), Bath Abbey (drawings 1792-96; publication 1798), Durham Cathedral (drawings 1792-98; publication 1801), St Alban's Abbey (drawings c. 1804; publication 1810), and Gloucester Cathedral (drawings 1796; publication 1809). (4) Wells Cathedral was to be included in this series; Carter's drawings were prepared c. 1795-1805, but were never engraved and never published. (5)
The Cathedral Series was sponsored and published by the Society of Antiquaries, of which Carter became a full Fellow in 1795. (6) In 1792, Richard Gough, the Society's director, and Sir Henry Englefield supported the production of 'architectural drawings of the different Cathedrals and religious houses in the Kingdom'. (7) Thus began the series, but the costs of production quickly escalated. As the books were distributed free of charge among Society members, the only way to finance the publications was to increase membership subscriptions, and, according to J. Mordaunt Crook, 'when, in 1802 an attempt was made to raise the Society's annual subscription from 2 to 3 guineas, the change was resisted and soon afterwards the Cathedral Series was abandoned'. (8) Personal correspondence with Mr Bernard Nurse, librarian for the Society, confirms that during this period, membership was approximately 450, and thus about 500 copies of each book are thought to have been printed, each in a single print run. (9)
The exact whereabouts today of many of the books in the Cathedral Series is unknown. Some are known to reside in library collections in the United Kingdom, the United States of America, and Australia, but these are few in number, totalling up to thirty copies of each title. (10) Of the few identified in libraries, many have been rebound. At the Baillieu Library of Melbourne University, the entire Cathedral Series has been rebound into three volumes: Volume I containing Exeter and St Stephen's, Volume II containing Durham, Gloucester, and St Alban's, and Volume III containing Bath Abbey. At the National Library of Australia, all six Cathedral Series books are bound into a single volume, and at Stanford University Library, St Stephen's, Bath, and Exeter are bound together.
While there is no doubt that many copies of the Cathedral Series books will have been lost or destroyed over the years, the relatively few in institutional collections implies a reasonable number must still remain in private hands. This is supported by the number of privately owned copies that have become available for auction in recent years, (11) and by Crook's statement that 'most Fellows disposed of their copies to booksellers'. (12)
The New Zealand copy of the Exeter Cathedral book is the only copy known to exist in New Zealand, and is privately owned. The current owners, Mr and Mrs Empson of Pirongia, have owned the book since the 1970s, when it was given to them by Dr Martin Brett, then a lecturer in medieval church history at the University of Auckland. Dr Brett, now Emeritus Fellow of Robinson College, Cambridge, acquired the book in the 1950s from Thornton's Bookshop, Oxford. Thornton's no longer holds records of its past sales and purchases, and so any earlier provenance of the book is unknown.
Consisting of twenty-two pages of text and eleven pages of engraved drawings, the Exeter Cathedral book measures approximately 670mm x 520mm, with three of the drawings measuring 670mm x 1000mm. The New Zealand copy suffers from significant water damage, amounting to a large water stain that encroaches on approximately the lower one-third of the book. There is also some foxing on the edges of all of the pages. Significantly, and unlike many institutional copies, the binding of the book is in its original state, although the back cover is heavily damaged.
Some Account of the Cathedral Church of Exeter: Illustrative of the Plans, Elevations, and Sections, of that Building contains two essays concerning the history of the origins of Exeter Cathedral, the first by Bishop Charles Lyttelton and the second by Sir Henry Englefield. Lyttelton was President of the Society of Antiquaries from 1765 until his death in 1768, and Englefield was a Fellow of the Society, later becoming President in 1811. The drawings and their descriptions were produced by Carter, the architect for the Society, and they were engraved by James Basire II, engraver to the Society and son of the more famous engraver James Basire I (1730-1802). The argument presented here is that Carter's architectural drawings of Exeter Cathedral, while praised by many for their accuracy and attention to detail, also display Carter's stance on Gothic architecture. As will be shown, Carter's romanticised view of the medieval is constantly brought to the fore in the choices he makes about what he presents in his drawings, as well as in the way that he chooses to describe the features in the Cathedral.
The work begins with an introduction outlining the contents of the book and some of the reasons for its creation:
The Society of Antiquaries, in prosecution of their design of publishing accurate measures of all the principal Ecclesiastical Buildings of England, do now present to the Public the Plans, Elevations, and Sections, of the Church of Exeter. (13)
The Society never completed their design of producing works on all of the principal ecclesiastical buildings, but their desire to do so demonstrates a particularly significant feature of the period in which they were produced. Sam Smiles argues that there appeared to be an urge at this time to establish authenticity in medieval history, and it was felt that textual documentation was no longer adequate for this. (14) Instead, for the first time, visual observation of medieval artefacts became incorporated with textual authority and resulted in the production of architectural drawings that helped to establish the origins of buildings.
The introduction continues by explaining that, for the purposes of rendering 'information relative to the subject as complete as possible', the Society added Lyttelton's 1754 essay on the origins of Exeter Cathedral, along with some 'observations on Bishop Lyttelton's tract' by Sir Henry Englefield. (15) These additions present us with an apparently complete picture of the Cathedral: illustrations of the Cathedral from a range of positions and angles, and two pieces of textual evidence to complete one's understanding. Together, the illustrations and text offer the reader a means of understanding history that was relatively new at the time.
Bishop Lyttelton's essay, comprising ten of the twenty-two pages of text, is an excellent example of historical analysis of the period. As Smiles describes it:
Charles Lyttelton's researches at Exeter are revealing of antiquarianism at mid-century in its development towards a more rigorous approach to medieval antiquities ... the new awareness of the Cathedral's history, produced by Lyttelton and others, is thus a product of, but also a contribution to, national developments in antiquarian method. (16)
Dean at Exeter Cathedral from 1748, Lyttelton, along with Jeremiah Milles, prebendary and precentor at Exeter, undertook an extensive programme of research and restoration of the Cathedral. A lot of this work involved the supervising of workmen restoring parts of the Cathedral, but part involved Lyttelton sorting and arranging the Cathedral's documents:
The antient Evidences and Muniments of the Church I found covered with dirt and dust; these to the amount of some Bushells, I cleaned, sorted and endorsed, and having tied them up in little bundels, they are now deposited in the old Exchequer, being a very convenient muniment room. (17)
Access to such documentation allowed Lyttelton to embark on an assessment of Exeter's building history with much more material than had previous historians. Smiles notes: 'the combination of complementary methods of enquiry, empirical and archival, mark the essay he wrote in 1754 on the history of the fabric.' (18)
Antiquarianism, as a movement in the eighteenth century, displayed all the hallmarks of the development of an educated society engaging with the debate of what constitutes history. Ian Haywood notes this dilemma with regard to literary production at the time, where the concern was how to respond to poetic literature, if it arguably contained historical information. (19) The concern that these debates raised is what constitutes history. Smiles's suggestion that Lyttelton's methods show 'a more rigorous approach' stems from the resemblance between Lyttelton's approach and the reliance on archival material that came to characterise the theory of history for generations. (20) Antiquarianism can be seen to grow out of a society that began to value empirical evidence, without noting the concomitant, sometimes fictional, narrative that was required to be constructed around that evidence.
Subsequently, Lyttelton's essay makes use of the descriptions by others concerning the origins of Exeter Cathedral, including John Lelands 1549 Laboryouse iourney and serche of Iohan Leylande, for Englandes antiquitees, (21) John Hooker's Discription of the cittie of Excester (1575), (22) Francis Godwin's 1616 De praesulibus Angliae commentarius omnium episcoporum, (23) Peter Heylyn's An Help to English History (1641), (24) and Richard Izacke's Antiquities of the city of Exeter (1677). (25) Hooker, on whom Heylyn and Izacke relied, did not have access to the documents in the Exeter Cathedral archives, (26) and while Godwin did, he seems to have made no use of them, thus Lyttelton's assessment can be seen as a step towards the Antiquarian method.
In addition to making use of the early documentation, Lyttelton made substantial use of his own observations of the Cathedral. While supervising restoration work, Lyttelton had the ideal opportunity to observe and consider the structures in the building. His assessment is marked by his attempts to reconcile the early documentation, both from others' commentaries and from the church's own documents, with his observations. This, according to Smiles, is what is so innovative about Lyttelton's account.
As an example, Lyttelton attempts to make sense of Godwins account of the Lady Chapel, at the eastern end of the Cathedral:
Such is the history of this Cathedral as related by Godwin; who having been both sub-dean and canon-residentiary thereof, ought to be esteemed a good authority; but upon a strict examination, we shall find that this account of the present fabric is very imperfect, and in some respects not agreeable to truth. First I must observe, that what he affirms of St Marys chapel having been the old Saxon Cathedral, would hardly be allowed, did the style in which it is built correspond with that early age, if we consider only the smallness of its dimensions; but when it appears also in every part to be strictly Gothic, which was a very different style of architecture from the Saxon, his opinion in this point deserves no regard. (27)
Here, we see that Lyttelton has taken it upon himself to compare Godwin's account with what he has actually observed of the style of architecture of the Lady Chapel, something that was quite unusual for its time. As he says, Lyttelton performed a 'strict examination' in which he observed that, while Godwin claimed the chapel was from the Saxon period, the observable architectural style of the chapel suggested that it was Gothic. (28) As a result of his observations, Lyttelton concludes that Godwin must simply be wrong, that empirical, observable evidence outweighs early documentary evidence. (29)
Sir Henry Englefields essay takes up the debate in a much more brusque fashion. Written more than forty years after Lyttelton's essay, Englefields assessment of early documents about the Cathedral shows that the preference for empirical evidence over documentary evidence had become commonplace. He says of the early writers: '[I]f the words of those authors are to be taken in a literal sense, it is certain that the accounts they give of the building are inconsistent with the internal evidence of the structure.' (30) The tone here is quite different from that of Lyttelton, who was much more cautious in his criticisms of others. Englefield is certain about his views, because they are based on direct observations of the Cathedral.
It is easy to understand, then, the impetus for the production of architectural drawings during this period. With such an emphasis placed on the visual evidence of architecture as the means for understanding history, the production of drawings was imperative:
The business of recording the medieval legacy would require a scrupulous attention to detail and an absolute refusal to embellish that detail with artistic mannerisms. In the person of John Carter, the Society of Antiquaries had a delineator of medieval antiquities who would not flinch from such a task. (31)
Carter produced eleven pages of drawings for the Exeter Cathedral book. Beginning with a title page that includes the illustration of a monument to an unknown person from within the Cathedral, Carter says, 'it was selected to form the title-page, in order that every part of the engraving might have some reference to the building described'. (32) This very much reflects Carter's attitude to the drawings that he produced. The act of architectural drawing was for him an aesthetic pleasure, especially when combined with such an aesthetically pleasing subject as the Cathedral. The late medieval style of architecture that Carter so favoured was labelled as 'Gothic' at the time, although Carter himself preferred the term 'English' to distinguish the historically accurate representations he was producing from the more elaborate and embellished designs of other architects that used this style as a springboard for their imaginations.
The first illustration is a plan view of Exeter Cathedral, measuring 670mm x 1000mm, and which folds out from the book (see Figure 1). The plan is exceedingly detailed, and Carter provides an extensive commentary describing the features. While largely descriptive, Carter's commentary displays a characteristic that becomes even more prominent in the later illustrations. Carter notes at the end of the commentary that some parts on the plan are more clearly distinguishable than others:
The parts which are shaded dark, are the oldest walls, and form the north and south towers; the parts of a lighter shade, are the walls of the present structure; the parts still fainter, are the erections of recent date. (33)
Carter's decision to present not only the plan of the Cathedral, but also some sense of its existence over time might seem innocuous. However, it is not quite as innocent as it seems. Carter was known for the formidable accuracy of his drawings, credit for which must also partly be given to James Basire, who engraved them. Carter nevertheless inserted his own fanaticism about medieval architecture into his drawings. By way of a shading technique, he has emphasised in the plan the older and, in his view, more authentic, parts of the Cathedral. Kept to a minimum and ideally hidden from view are the most recent renovations and restorations, because these are not, as far as Carter is concerned, what the Cathedral is all about. It is a subtle level of intervention in the drawing, but it is there nevertheless, and it is certain to be deliberate on Carter's part.
As an example, the plan shows where the cloisters of the Cathedral were once located, drawn as a large blank rectangle. (34) At one corner is drawn a small section of wall, the only remains of the cloisters, but there is a note in the commentary to indicate that this space is now occupied with 'small houses of a late construction, and which in part fill up the sides of the cloisters'.35 Without this note, there is no indication on the plan itself that there is any construction at all on this site. It is an example of how Carter implies by omission which elements of the Cathedral he believes are valuable and which are not.
It is interesting too, to consider this feature of Carter's drawing alongside Lyttelton's and Englefield's essays. Both Lyttelton and Englefield were deeply concerned to determine the order in which the different parts of the Cathedral were built, according to both documentary evidence and their own observations. It would appear that John Carter had also waded into this debate with his shading technique, and already settled the issue for himself. Thus, according to Carter's drawing of the plan, the north and south towers are without question the oldest parts of the Cathedral, and the Lady Chapel, as far as Carter was concerned, is the same age as the nave and chancel. It is an excellent example of how illustrations can be just as persuasive as text. (36)
Carters commentary on the second illustration, an end elevation of the western side of the Cathedral (see Figure 2), begins in the following manner: 'The object that first strikes the eye is the magnificent screen, or portal, which extends along the whole front.' (37) Using Carter's own scale drawn at the bottom of the page, the screen measures approximately 83 feet by 29 feet (25.29m x 8.84m). In relation to the entire western front of the church, this is an extremely small part of the whole, and it may seem surprising that Carter believed it to be the most eye-catching element. Each of the two towers of the Cathedral measures 140 feet by 39 feet (42.67m x 11.88m), with 70 feet (21.34m) between them. This alone demonstrates how much the screen is dwarfed by the rest of the Cathedral. It seems to me that Carter was responding here to the actual experience of viewing the western screen, as opposed to the illustration he presents in his elevation. Viewed in person, the western screen is indeed imposing and awe-inspiring, and because of the scale of the Cathedral, it is difficult to view the larger towers further beyond the screen. From his elevation, however, it is the towers that dominate; the screen appears a relatively small item on the drawing. Carter's description of the screen continues:
In richness of architectural ornament, and number of statues, it exceeds any thing of the kind in the kingdom. The great entrance is in the centre; and there are smaller doors on either side, differing from each other in form. On the right of the grand entrance, are seen the small windows which light the chapel of Bishop Grandison, the builder of this noble screen. (36)
Carter was clearly enamoured with the screen, and with Bishop Grandison. His description continues of the west window above the screen, the cornice and battlements above the window, and concludes with: 'the front is crowned with a nich, containing the statue of Bishop Grandison.' (39) Bishop John Grandison was bishop of Exeter from 1327 until his death in 1369, and was particularly noted for his continuation of the building of Exeter Cathedral. During his tenure, he completed the nave, including the roof and vault, as well as his own western chantry chapel. (40) Carter's interest in Grandison lay in the Bishops devotion to the building and restoration of the Cathedral, but also in the period in which Grandison lived. For Carter, the pinnacle of the medieval period was the reign of Edward III (1327-77), during which time, according to Carter, the most significant examples of architecture were built.
When Carter does describe the two enormous towers in this illustration, he says:
In the distance are seen the west fronts of the two great towers, part of the ancient fabric, of which they probably formed the west front. They are each divided into four stories, but differ considerably in their enrichments. The upper story of the northern tower, and the turrets at the angles of each, are of much later work; probably of the period of the screen. (41)
The two towers of Exeter Cathedral are possibly the most dominating and characteristic features of the Cathedral. Carter rightly noted, as he did in the plan, that these are the oldest parts of the Cathedral, but he did not describe them in great detail. Where he did describe them, it was to state that they also contain later additions, which he compared with his favoured screen.
The next elevation that Carter provides is of the northern side of the Cathedral (see Figure 3). Like the plan, this is a larger illustration, 670mm x 1000mm, and folds out from the book. Given the size and detail of this illustration, it is surprising that Carter rarely embellishes his commentary. Most of the description focuses strictly on the elements in the drawing and only occasionally does Carter offer his opinion on the structures. Describing the illustration from east to west, Carter says of the chancel windows that they are 'all of elegant design'. Of the tower, he notes that it includes 'a sort of fascia of intersecting arches, rather uncommon', and then concludes his description by stating: 'This whole front, excepting the great tower, has a regularity in its construction unusual in our Cathedrals, and is at once simple and elegant.' (42) 'Simple' and 'elegant' are words that Carter often uses to show his approval of a design, and despite his description of this illustration seeming rather limited, it continues to display Carter's preferences in design.
The west and north elevations are the only elevations that Carter provides, which is not out of keeping with architectural practice, unless there are significant variations in the eastern and southern views that would require explanation. In this instance, it may have been helpful to see the eastern and southern elevations, as they are substantially different from the western and northern elevations. There is no indication as to why these elevations were not included, but there may be many innocuous reasons, such as the considerable time it would have taken to complete further drawings. Carter had no control over which of his drawings would be selected for inclusion in the book; this was handled by the Society of Antiquaries, under Englefield and John Wyndham.
Carter then moves on to provide two cross-sections of the Cathedral. The first is an east-west cross-section taken through the centre of the chancel and nave, looking south, and the second is a north-south cross-section taken through the centre of the transept, looking west. The first of these cross-sections is very much the piece de resistance of Carter's drawings. It is a large drawing, exceptionally detailed, measuring 670mm x 1000mm, and again folds out from the book (see Figure 4). For such a significant work of draughtsmanship, Carter's commentary is remarkably brief, but this is perhaps explained by his concluding remarks: 'This section exhibits a regularity of design and variety of decoration not easily to be matched; and the whole, except the stalls of the choir, is in its original state.'43 Carter considers the most important element of this view of the Cathedral to be the apparent consistency of design, and it is this feature that marks the quality of his drawing (and Basire's engraving): the remarkable consistency and accuracy shown throughout. Again, Carter highlights the value of the Cathedral 'in its original state', and this is also noted in his description of the monument to Bishop Bronescomb in the Lady Chapel. He says:
The whole tomb, as well as the bishop's statue, retain their original gilding and colours. The dress of the bishop is highly elegant, studded with representations of gems, and other rich ornaments. The whole is a precious relic of ancient splendour, and had fortunately escaped the barbarous hands of the white-washers, who have so often defaced these curious remains of the tastes of our ancestors. (44)
The description here is conspicuously emotive compared with the much more brief descriptions elsewhere. Carter revels in the colour and decoration that have survived on this tomb as a 'relic of ancient splendour', but interestingly says these are the 'curious remains of the tastes of our ancestors'. That he notes the artefacts as 'curious' is a recognition that they were not the fashion of the eighteenth century, but he is quite adamant that these are remains of 'our' ancestors, which is a significant point. Carter was quite vociferous in his claim that the Gothic style of architecture that he admired so much was an English creation, hence his preference for labelling the style 'English'. As early as 1777, Carter wrote in The Builder's Magazine that 'Gothic architecture has been ages back the taste of Englishmen'. (45)
In the cross-section of the transept, facing west, Carter describes the rood screen and arches, but focuses most of his attention on the northern tower in which there is an odd piece of machinery (see Figure 5). It is worth presenting the commentary in full to demonstrate Carters curiosity:
In the centre of the groin of the north tower is a large octagonal opening, filled up with wood work of the design of the groin. This opening, which is evidently for the purpose of receiving things from below, was probably made when the great bell given by Bishop Courtney was raised to the top of the tower. This wood work is sustained in its place by a very curious machine, which is seen in the plate. It is placed on one of the sides of the octagon, and consists of a plinth, from which rises an upright post, bearing on its top an horizontal beam, one end plain, the other which is fastened to the centre of the wooden work which closes the vault. To the plain end of the beam is hung a chest filled with stones, which counterpoises the weight of the wood work at the other end. If it were necessary to remove the wooden closure of the vault, an additional weight would be placed in the chest, and the wood being thereby raised above the floor on which the machine stands, the whole machine would be turned around on the vertical axis till the wood work cleared the opening of the vault. This convenience, awkward as it is, must be considered as a curiosity, being perhaps the only specimen remaining of the mechanical powers used by our ancestors. (46)
Carter's interest here is certainly a personal one, and it does not appear he had any evidence to suggest the machine was the only one of its kind, but he clearly hoped this was the case. (47) Carters description of the southern tower is brief by comparison, and he quickly moves on to describe the adjoining chapter-house:
Its large east window is of elegant form, but is divested of its painted glass. The open timber work of the roof is of extremely beautiful design, and retains its ancient painting. The whole proportion of this chapter-house is peculiarly graceful. (48)
This account is very much in keeping with Carter's comments elsewhere, noting the elegance of certain structures, as well as those that are in their original states. We see in Carter's description of the machinery in the tower that his language becomes quite detailed, to a degree not seen elsewhere in his descriptions, and this highlights Carters interest in the accuracy and in recording for posterity features he regards as authentically medieval.
The remaining five pages of illustrations in the Exeter Cathedral book are details of various features in the Cathedral. Their selection is particularly conspicuous for displaying Carter's preference for characteristics of late Gothic architecture. The first of these illustrations is the west screen. Although Carter had described this in the first illustration of the book, here he revisits it in order to describe the ornamentation in some detail. He repeats some information regarding the dimensions and arrangement of the three sections that comprise the screen, but then goes into great detail about the small statues that are lodged in each of the recesses. Unlike his earlier description that showed his emotional preference for the screen, here Carter maintains a modicum of restraint.
The second of the illustrations of details from the Cathedral comprises two images: the north porch and an internal elevation of the north side of the chapter house. Of the porch, Carter is brief, stating only that it 'is rather singular, from an air of simplicity'. His description of the interior of the chapter house is substantially more detailed. After describing the complexity of the arches, he notes that: 'It seems probable that the chapter-house, which is by Godwin said to have been built by Bishop Lacy in the year 1460, was by him only adorned and altered to its present form.' (49) This is an important comment from Carter, as this is the only time he names a textual source of information about the Cathedral, and largely, it seems, his comments were based on his own observations. Here, we see that Carter was at the very least familiar with Francis Godwin's De praesulibus Angliae commentarius omnium episcoporum. Whether this also indicates that he was familiar with other textual sources concerning the Cathedral is not known. But what it does show is that Carter, too, preferred his own observations over a textual authority.
Carters deduction about the architecture of the chapter house was based on his observations of the remaining structure, and various changes that it clearly demonstrated, and he was not far from the mark. The chapter house was begun in 1224, when William Briwere (or Brewer) became bishop, but its upper part was rebuilt in the 1460s, shortly after Bishop Edmund Lacey died. (50) Carter concludes by stating:
The style of the lower part of the building is entirely different from that of the upper part, and of much more ancient date; and the very abrupt termination of the columns in the niches, seems to mark exactly where the new work began. (51)
The third illustration of details of the Cathedral is a single image that, Carter says:
[H]as been selected, not only as a specimen of the architecture of the whole building, but to give the opportunity of introducing the only variety in the general design, and to present to view the celebrated gallery for the minstrels. (52)
Carter reveals that the purpose of the details in this book is to present representative images of the Cathedrals architecture, and in this particular example, to show an instance of variation in the architecture. One characteristic of Exeter Cathedral is its uniformity, a feature that Carter particularly liked, but here he is noting an instance of difference. Carter does not indicate his opinion of the minstrels' gallery, describing it without elaboration, but his introduction to it implies that he is presenting it because it is famous, rather than for any other reason.
The fourth illustration of details contains three images, the astronomical clock, a portion of the sedilia at the high altar, and the bishops throne. Despite his brief description of it, Carter says of the clock that it 'is worthy of notice, both for its elegance of its ornaments, and its mechanism, which is uncommon at so early a time'. (53) The descriptions of the sedilia and the bishop's throne are also brief, but stand in stark contrast to Carter's descriptions of the clock and the previously mentioned minstrels' gallery. In those descriptions, Carter seems to have presented the items as though they were expected to be there; he noted that they are items of interest and curiosity, but nothing more. Here, the sedilia and the bishops throne seem genuinely to excite him. Of the sedilia, he says, 'the richness and delicacy of ornament in these cannot be exceeded'. In describing the three pillars that support the canopies, he says, 'by this artifice great richness is united with lightness and strength'. Similarly, in his description of the bishop's throne, Carter says, 'The whole of this beautiful structure is of wood, and it is of singular lightness'. (54) The aesthetic quality that Carter so admired in these structures, however, is the design seen in many of the cathedrals in France, displaying the lightness yet strength of arches and vaults. (55) Carter is known to have been outraged at the suggestion that this style might have pre-dated the Gothic style in England, a position that Augustus Charles Pugin mocked. (56) According to Pugin, Carter reviewed G. D. Whittingham's Historical Survey of the Ecclesiastical Antiquities of France:
That champion of English Architecture treated the assertor of the superior beauty and antiquity of the French churches with all the national pride and high disdain of a hero of chivalry; but not with triumphant success, except in his own heated imagination. (57)
The final illustration is a series of twelve column supports and six angels. Carter describes each of the column supports, frequently noting they 'are elegant designs'. In an odd turn of phrase, he says of two of the column supports that they are 'not void of elegance' and 'are far from despicable'. (58) Perhaps Carter was responding to particular criticism of these items.
What is clear from these drawings and from Carter's commentary on them is that while Carter gives the impression of presenting a clear and simple explanation of the Cathedral--and it is likely this was his intention--his personal views continue to seep through into the architectural language. It is conspicuous that Carter offers brief descriptions of, for instance, the north and south towers, which are otherwise remarkably dominating features, but gives a rather grandiose description of the western screen. Such contrasts show where Carter's interests lay, despite his attempts to maintain a strict architectural language.
Arguing by omission is always a delicate task, but it does seem clear in this instance that when Carter ignores certain features of the architecture, it is because they were later modifications of which he did not approve. Carter barely mentions the choir stalls, which were a later design, and many of the smaller additions in the nave and chancel are only mentioned in the plan of the Cathedral. There are some practical reasons for Carter omitting portions in the drawings, such as the omission of the organ from the cross-sections, because this allowed a clear view to the space behind, but it is also conspicuous that at times these omissions were made to allow a view of a worthy and old portion of architecture. Smiles notes that:
It is a tribute to his project of exemplary accuracy that modern scholars still refer to these drawings, and the engravings produced for them, for information on the Cathedral before its next phase of restoration in the early 1800s. (59)
Yet, despite Carter's accuracy, what Smiles does not recognise is the point of view that Carter presents in both his commentary on the drawings and in the selection of the details. Within the precision of the architect's drawings, we see an account of a building that Carter valued as a significant part of English medieval history. (60)
II. John Carter's Career in Architectural Journalism
John Carters life is well documented, due to the more than 380 articles he contributed to The Gentleman's Magazine between 1767 and 1817, (61) and from the recently catalogued archives at King's College, London, which contain among other items, Carters unpublished notebooks. (62) Originally trained as a sculptor and draughtsman, Carter began contributing drawings and commentaries in 1774 to The Builder's Magazine, in which he presented 185 architectural drawings of plans, elevations, cross-sections, and details of a range of British buildings. (63) In 1780, Carter published volume one of Specimens of the Ancient Sculpture and painting, now remaining in this kingdom, from the earliest period to the reign of Henry VIII, an extensive work of 265 pages of his own drawings (engraved by himself) and commentaries. (64) As Carter explains in the subtitle to the book:
This work is designed to shew the Rising Progress of Sculpture and Painting in England, to explain obscure and doubtful parts of history, and preserve the Portraits of great and eminent personages. (65)
Immediately, this shows us Carter's concern with both accuracy of information and the preservation of artefacts, all within the context of English history. Volume two appeared in 1787. Between 1786 and 1793, Carter published six volumes of Views of Ancient Buildings in England, (66) reflecting his extensive touring of the English countryside during the 1770s and 1780s, and in 1795, Carter published the first volume of The Architecture of England. (67) These early publications marked Carter out as one thoroughly dedicated to recording the medieval architectural heritage of England and he set new standards in recording architectural detail.
Carter and James Basire II, who engraved many of Carters drawings, were less inclined to correct or obscure defects and damage in the buildings they drew, whereas others 'simply distorted [drawings] according to their expectations of classical architecture'. (68) Francis Groses The Antiquities of England and Wales, published in eight sizeable volumes between 1772 and 1787, presents a useful contrast between the practices of other architects and engravers, and the work of Carter and Basire. (69) In Grose's work, the 640 views and plans were, in the large part, engraved by Richard Godfrey and Samuel Sparrow (see Figure 6). Their style, heavily romanticised and full of foliage, with small figures dwarfed by the architecture, is unlike Basires, who followed John Flaxmans simple, linear style. (70) The resulting collaboration between Carter and Basire shows extremely accurate architectural, rather than artistic, views, drawn to scale, and presented with little adornment.
Carters financial status was never secure, and 'his correspondence shows him more in the role of a paid servant when he was carrying out commissioned work'. (71) His obsequious manner transformed under the anonymity of The Gentleman's Magazine. Carter's hundreds of articles vociferously berate the destruction of medieval English architecture and the quality of the restoration that was done to buildings. (72) The vast majority of Carter's articles in The Gentleman's Magazine, under the pseudonym 'An Architect', are detailed descriptions of medieval monuments, churches, and cathedrals. Carter's descriptions seem to have had the purpose of not only educating and illuminating the readership of the magazine, but also seem to have been an attempt to establish a record account of the buildings, as it became all too apparent to him that many buildings were being destroyed. Many of Carter's articles, however, were not so benign in tone. One example should suffice to demonstrate: in 1800, Carter, as part of his research for the Cathedral Series, was documenting St Stephen's Chapel, Westminster. St Stephen's was largely destroyed by fire in 1834, but prior to this, Carter identified it as a significant example of medieval church architecture. Although Carter had surveyed the church some years before, in 1791, he returned in 1800 to continue his work and, in all likelihood, to keep an eye on the restoration work occurring there under the auspices of James Wyatt. When Carter attempted to enter the chapel for the purpose of continuing his drawing, he commenced his work, but was then asked to leave, and the following day was refused entry entirely, being informed that another artist was the only one allowed into the chapel. Carter was outraged by this incident, and wrote of it forcefully in The Gentleman's Magazine. Interestingly, he wrote of the incident using three different personas. The first was 'An Architect', under which pseudonym he contributed eleven articles that year reporting on the alterations being undertaken:
... we find the sweeps of the head of the nich have been copied it is true, but the mouldings and lines dropping down to the base intirely set aside, and a square line just below the springing of the head cut across the front; as much as to say, here is enough of this barbarous style of architecture, let us have no more of it! ... While we contemplate this front, grandeur again, stands before us, although mock insulting disfigurements have almost reduced it at present to the tread of insult and contempt. (73)
These descriptions must have been based partly on Carters earlier visit to the church, and partly on his brief revisit in 1800, when he could see for himself the alterations that were taking place.
The second series of articles were pseudonymously written by 'A Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries', in which Carter spoke as a fictitious third-party witness to the incident in which Carter was refused entry to the chapel:
Yesterday I went to Stephen's chapel, Westminster, in consequence of hearing that some of its fine remains were under the destroying hammer of the workmen ... Among the visitors present, there was the very Artist who, in 1791, surveyed and drew the plans, elevations, sections, etc. of this chapel ... I found him in conversation with a person, who peremptorily told him, that the Surveyor of the Board of Works had given the most direct and positive orders that he should not be permitted to draw from any one object in the place. This morning, being eager to renew my delight in contemplating this scene, I went again, but found a man placed at the door to refuse and prevent any one from entering this St Stephen's chapel. (74)
The final persona is signed 'J. Carter' and 'John Carter' and presents a different tone from the other pseudonyms. Here, Carter vents his outrage and indignation at being refused entry, but also demands openly that the Surveyor in charge of the restoration of the chapel, James Wyatt, respond to Carter's apparent injustice:
In the year 1791, I was ordered by the Society of Antiquaries to survey, and make plans, elevations, etc. of St Stephen's chapel, Westminster; and, owing to the wainscoting put up against the interior face of the walls, I would not render my illustration complete. Hearing last week that the said wainscoting was taken down for the purpose of getting room for two or three benches, I went for the laudable purpose, as I conceived, of perfecting my survey; when I saw some of the most rare works of Art that this or any country ever produced falling beneath the workmen's hammers; and before I had begun my talk, the labourer in trust candidly told me he had positive orders from the Surveyor of the Board of Works that I should not be permitted to stay in the chapel, or make any drawings. ... I now call on Mr Wyatt, the said Surveyor of the Board of Works, to come forward and state, like a man and a gentleman, his reasons for refusing me, an English Artist, a Member of the Society of Antiquaries, and a Loyal Subject, in favour of an Alien, to make drawings from the interior of St Stephen's chapel, Westminster? An explanation the publick have a right to know, and I to demand, when we are losing for ever from our sight such an inestimable work of antient Art. (75)
This is an extensive example, but it demonstrates the extent to which Carter was willing to go to assert his concerns about the chapel, and also reveals something of his own sense of insecurity about his professional position. But the example also shows how adept Carter was at architectural journalism, and this is certainly one of his lasting legacies. Carter happily manipulated several personas within one publication, with a view to creating a favourable view of himself, as well as highlighting what he perceived to be the loss of national heritage.
Carter's antagonism for James Wyatt seems to have come about as a result of Wyatt's election to the position of Surveyor-General to the King in 1796, a position to which, perhaps, Carter felt he himself was better suited, had it not been for his class. Carter particularly objected to Wyatt's apparent 'improvements' to medieval buildings, which, according to Carter, resulted in the destruction of many of their features. Indeed St Stephens Chapel, Westminster, was one building known to have had a number of modifications made by Wyatt that involved removing or obscuring such features.
Added to the debate was the controversy around Wyatt's application for membership to the Society of Antiquaries, which brought out strident factionalism within the Society. In this environment, Carter made accusations to the Society of Wyatts desecration of Durham Cathedral, which resulted in Wyatt's membership being turned down. The following year, once Carter's accusations had been discredited, Wyatt was easily elected member. (76) Carter was rarely employed by the Society of Antiquaries after this event, but continued to earn a living from a steady stream of private commissions. (77)
Carter was not the first to assert the English origins of Gothic architecture, but his advocacy of this view was one that received frequent mention in his articles in The Gentleman's Magazine. It is a curious assertion, which Carter seems to have developed out of the political environment of the period, but it tapped into a trend that was immensely popular in England. At a time of political unrest and war, the public was only too ready to accept a nationalistic take on architecture:
In 1798 Britain has been at war with France for five years, and for a brief period in 1802 was actually to be under threat of invasion. The effect was to produce a sharply nationalistic mood, a public conditioned by the passions and propaganda of warfare and peculiarly receptive to the merits of the ancient architecture of England. (76)
Carter's masterful use of journalism spread this concept extremely effectively, and allowed him to expand his belief that medieval architecture (and medieval society in general) was the height of English cultural sophistication. In The
Ancient Architecture of England, he says:
In this reign (Edward III) the English nation seems to have arrived at its meridian of glory. Laws, arms, and arts shone in all their splendour; the monarch was as munificent as he was brave, and his love and encouragement of the works of ingenious and enlightened men, was great and unbounded ... as the ... noble and gorgeous display of architecture, rising around him in every part of the kingdom ... planned and executed on the most extensive scale and highest degree of decoration and embellishment ... sufficiently demonstrates. (79)
Carter's articles in The Gentleman's Magazine on the English origins of Gothic architecture were vociferous and strident:
Why have the minds of Englishmen, for these two centuries been deluded to imitate the Roman and Grecian styles? What features have their boasted remains that we cannot parallel? For their extensiveness of their edifices, their grandeur, their elegance, their enrichments, view our Cathedrals, and other attendant buildings. Is any one excellence that architecture boasts to be sought for in vain in our country? No, we may here find them all. (80)
It is believed that Carter never travelled to Europe in his lifetime, and so his views about English Gothic architecture were largely based on his own fancy and his nationalistic attitude. Ultimately, his fear was that the popularity of classical architecture, brought from Europe, would result in the obliteration of the Gothic style in England. Carter's articles became increasingly aggressive on this point:
Eternal self-reproof may those patrons feel, who send abroad our youth for Architectural Improvement; where, sucking in the poison of foreign prejudice, they disgorge their venom on our native architecture at home. (81)
Despite the extreme nature of his language and, at times, the absurdity of his attitude, Carter's fears were warranted, as many Gothic buildings were destroyed or renovated in a classical style.
III. John Carter's Legacy for the Gothic Revival
The Exeter Cathedral book presents us with a microcosm of John Carter's views, works, and attitudes, and helps to highlight his legacy. This is reiterated by Crook: 'in Carters career we sense a fundamental shift of taste: the birth pangs of Victorian Gothic; the changing sensibility of a whole generation focused through the eyes of one man.' (82) Carter's legacy is threefold: the quality of his draughtsmanship and James Basire's engraving contributed significantly to the new approach to recording history, by providing the means by which historians could visually assess the medieval past. Second, Carter's contributions to The Gentleman's Magazine regarding the English origins of Gothic architecture, however erroneous, influenced a generation of architects. Third, the impact of Carters call for the preservation of medieval architecture helped to ensure the survival of numerous medieval buildings in England.
Carters threefold legacy can perhaps be seen best in the works of later writers and architects, revealing that many of his attitudes and methods were taken up by others. Even when he came in for criticism, Carter's influence was strong: J. C. Buckler said of Carter that 'no man created more adversaries, if not enemies, by his opinions and writings'. (83) Whether because of his views, or in spite of them, Carter's works have been influential.
John Britton, arguably one of the most important architectural historians of the nineteenth century, and publisher of over one hundred books on the subject, was very aware of Carter's views, and he made considerable use of Carter's works. It is easy to see that John Britton eclipsed John Carter; Britton was a much better manager of his career and, while not an architect, was able to understand his public much better than Carter. However, it seems clear that Britton was heavily influenced by and indebted to Carter. Throughout his 1807 work, The Architectural Antiquities of Great Britain, Britton quotes Carter heavily, making use of Carter's descriptions of the many medieval structures that both had visited and examined in the course of their work. (84) Unlike Augustus Pugin's mockery, there was no criticism from Britton; he clearly saw Carter as a reliable and informative source of information. If this is not enough to indicate Carter's influence on Britton, in 1845, Britton published a second edition of Carter's The Ancient Architecture of England, revising and adding to the work.
Even when Britton disagreed with Carter, he was cautious about criticising him directly. Carter had argued strongly for the emergence of the pointed arch as being of English origin, and Britton was clearly not certain or perhaps not brave enough to reject this idea outright. He says obliquely:
Some learned writers contend that the intersecting arch is not to be found in any Roman, or pure Saxon building. Though not fully prepared to refute this opinion, I think it not irrelevant to notice the following circumstance. In the Gentlemen's Magazine for 1801, p. 1161, is a description by R. Uvedale, accompanied by an engraving, of a Roman tessellated pavement which was discovered at Louth, Lincolnshire. (85)
Interestingly, Carter's advocacy of the English origin of Gothic architecture continued to have a long afterlife, even after it had been condemned. Nineteenth-century architectural books continued to engage with this debate, tempered at times by a degree of common sense. For instance, the publisher of many architectural books, J. Taylor, wrote in the preface to his 1800 collection of Essays on Gothic Architecture: 'This style of architecture may properly be called English architecture, for if it had not its origin in this country, it certainly arrived at maturity here', and 'the subject is peculiarly interesting to every Englishman, as his country contains the best specimens of the style'. (86) As late as 1870, John Henry Parker published On the English Origin of Gothic Architecture for the Society of Antiquaries, in which he forthrightly rejected the argument that the cathedrals of France pre-date many of those in England, citing Viollet-le-Duc and John Carter as authorities. (87)
A. W Pugin skirted around the debate in The True Principles of Pointed or Christian Architecture (1853), by renaming Gothic architecture as Christian architecture, thereby avoiding having to determine where, precisely, it originated. (88) His earlier work, An Apology for Christian Architecture (1843), is less circumspect, bringing a distinctly English nationalistic and nostalgic attitude to his descriptions of Christian architecture. (89)
John Kendall's 1818 work Elucidation of the Principles of English Architecture Usually Denominated Gothic, continued Carter's views, although without naming him, when he made use of Carter's statement from his book on Durham Cathedral: '... an architecture ... was invented by English artists: it is, surely, equally just and proper to distinguish this style by the honourable appellation of English.' (90) This exact statement had been used by John Milner in A Treatise on the Ecclesiastical Architecture of England during the Middle Ages (1811), (91) by John Britton in The Beauties of England and Wales (1813), (92) and later by Joseph Nightingale (1818), (93) James Norris Brewer (1818), (94) and J. and H. S. Storer (1831). (95)
The debate about the English origins of Gothic architecture clearly struck a chord with writers and architects, and harks back to the fortuitous coincidence that when Carter was making his pleas for English architecture in The Gentleman's Magazine, English society, feeling the threat from France, was ready to accept such a nationalistic stance. Despite the later rejection of Carter's views, the concept continued to maintain some currency precisely because of its connection with nationalism, and thus Carters views lived on.
An additional legacy of the works of John Carter is that some of the buildings and items that he drew have since been destroyed, and thus his works have become important as historical evidence. As mentioned earlier, Smiles suggests that Carters drawings of Exeter Cathedral are still referred to today for their accurate information about the Cathedral prior to its nineteenth-century renovations, and there are other instances where Carter's drawings have captured a moment in history, preserving medieval items that have since been destroyed or lost. Carters drawings of St Stephen's Chapel, Westminster, for instance, preserve a detailed account of the chapel before it was destroyed by fire in 1834. (96) Similarly, Carters sketches of the Mappa Mundi in Hereford Cathedral are the only record remaining that the map was once the centre of a triptych, surrounded by an annunciation scene. (97) Carter's intention was to see the preservation and appropriate restoration of medieval artefacts and buildings, and according to Sweet, he 'helped to generate a consciousness of the architectural heritage of the middle ages and the importance of its preservation'. (98) It is somewhat ironic that rather than resulting in the preservation of those artefacts, instead Carter's own works became memorials to the items destroyed. Although Carter will not have intended his own work to become a memorial for medieval items now lost, it may have been some consolation to him.
Crook has said that 'Carter's forte was not design but propaganda. His contribution to the Gothic revival was neither academic nor strictly archaeological, nor even antiquarian: it was essentially inspirational'. (99) While this seems a reasonable assessment, I would suggest that the inspirational qualities of Carter's career have resulted from his academic, archaeological, and antiquarian contributions. Carter's emotional enthusiasm in his publications, as in the Exeter Cathedral book, reveal a passion for the medieval, but it is ably supported by his prodigious and meticulous draughting skills, a high degree of research, and concern for the acknowledgement of England's history. As an architect, Carter produced very little, but as a hard-working enthusiast, through his views Carter continued to influence generations of architects, throughout the Gothic revival.
University of Otago
(1) John Carter, Some account of the Cathedral Church of Exeter: Illustrative of the Plans, Elevations, and Sections, of that Building (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1797). The book contains the half title, Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture and Ornaments of Exeter Cathedral, under which other copies of the book are catalogued in many libraries.
(2) I am immensely grateful to Mr and Mrs Empson of Pirongia, New Zealand, for permitting my use of this book for the purposes of this article.
(3) J. Mordaunt Crook, John Carter and the Mind of the Gothic Revival (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1995); Rosemary Sweet, Antiquaries: The Discovery of the Past in Eighteenth-Century Britain (London: A. and C. Black, 2004).
(4) John Carter, Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture and Ornaments of St Stephen's Chapel, Westminster (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1795); Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture and Ornaments of Exeter Cathedral (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1797); Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture of the Abbey Church of Bath (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1798); Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture and Ornaments of Durham Cathedral (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1801); Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture of the Cathedral Church of Gloucester (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1795); Plans, Elevations, Sections and Specimens of the Architecture and Ornaments of the Abbey Church of St Alban (London: Society of Antiquaries, 1813).
(5) Warwick Rodwell, Architectural Records of Wells by John Carter, FSA, 1784-1808 (Taunton: Somerset Record Society, 2006).
(6) Bernard Nurse, 'Bringing Truth to Light', in Making History: Antiquaries in Britain 1707-2007, eds Bernard Nurse, David Gaimster, and Sarah McCarthy (London: Royal Academy of Art, 2007), pp. 143-61 (p. 145).
(7) Joan Evans, A History of the Society of Antiquaries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1956), p. 206, n. 6; Society of Antiquaries, Council Minute Book, 3 (London: J. Nichols, 30 March 1792).
(8) Crook, Mind of the Gothic Revival, p. 23; Sweet, Antiquaries, p. 105.
(9) I am grateful to Mr Nurse for his assistance with my enquiries.
(10) These libraries hold copies of the Exeter Cathedral book, and many of the other Cathedral Series books: Cambridge University Library, Liverpool University Library, Exeter University Library, Society of Antiquaries of London, National Trust, Oxford University Library, British Library, Guildhall Library, Royal Academy of Arts Library, Edinburgh University Library, National Library of Scotland, National Library of Wales, Victoria and Albert Museum Library, Birmingham University Library, Senate House University of London, Roderic Bowen Library, Lambeth Palace Library, Getty Research Institute, Stanford University Library, University of Nebraska, Johns Hopkins University Library, Carnegie Library Pittsburgh, University of Oregon Library, National Library of Australia, and Melbourne University Library.
(11) Guildings Auctioneers, Leicester, sold a six-in-one volume of the Cathedral Series for 300 [pounds sterling] in 2008; Christie's Auction House, London, sold a six-in-one volume of the Cathedral Series for 5000 [pounds sterling] in 2009; Steve Finer Rare Books, Massachusetts, sold a copy of the Exeter Cathedral book in 2014 for US$300. At the time of writing, the Historic Shop, New York, has two images from the Exeter Cathedral book available for sale, the plan view of the Cathedral at US$550 and the west facade at US$300.
(12) Crook, Mind of the Gothic Revival, p. 23.
(13) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, Introduction, unpaginated.
(14) Sam Smiles, 'Data, Documentation and Display in Eighteenth-Century Investigations of Exeter Cathedral', Art History, 25 (2002), 500-19 (p. 500).
(15) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, Introduction.
(16) Smiles, p. 505.
(17) Smiles, p. 508.
(18) Smiles, p. 508.
(19) Ian Haywood, The Making of History: A Study of the Literary Forgeries of James MacPherson and Thomas Chatterton in Relation to Eighteenth-Century Ideas of History and Fiction (Cranbury, NJ: Associated University Presses, 1986), p. 19.
(20) J.W Burrows, A History of Histories: Epics, Chronicles, Romances and Inquiries from Herodotus and Thucydides to the Twentieth Century (London: Allen Lane, 2007), p. 283.
(21) John Leland, Laboryouse iourney and serche of Iohan Leylande, for Englandes antiquitees: geuen of hym as a neweyeares gyfte to Kynge Henry the viii (London: S. Mierdman, 1549).
(22) John Hooker, Discription of the cittie of Excester, collected and gathered by Iohn Vowel alias Hooker, gentelman and chamberlain of the same cittie (London: John Allde, 1575).
(23) Francis Godwin, De Praesulibus Angliae Commentarius: Omnium episcoporum, nicnon et Cardinalium eiusdem gentis, nomina, tempora, seriem atque actiones maxime memorabiles ab ultima antiquitate repetita complexus (London: John Bill, 1616).
(24) Peter Heylyn, Hporohoyia Anglorum; or, an help to English history containing a succession of all the Kings of England and the English Saxons, the Kings and Princes of Wales, the Kings and Lords of Man, and the Isle of Wight (London: T and R. Cotes, 1641).
(25) Richard Izacke, Antiquities of the city of Exeter: Giving an account of the laws and customs of the place, the officers, court of judicature, gates, walls, rivers, churches, and priviledges (London: Rowland Reynolds, 1677).
(26) Nicholas Orme, Exeter Cathedral: The First Thousand Years (Exeter: Impress, 2009), p. 70.
(27) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 1.
(28) When Lyttelton says 'Saxon', he means what we would today describe as 'Norman'. Architectural terminology of the period tended to conflate Norman and Saxon styles into a single entity, and is a feature of many of the architectural publications at this time. Augustus Pugin made a concerted effort in his 1825 publication, Specimens of Gothic Architecture, to identify and systematise the terminology in use, to bring it to a level of consistency.
(29) Orme, Exeter Cathedral, p. 67.
(30) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 13.
(31) Smiles, 'Data, Documentation and Display', p. 513.
(32) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 17.
(33) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 18.
(34) Orme, Exeter Cathedral, pp. 51-52.
(35) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 17.
(36) The north and south towers of the Cathedral date from the twelfth century, although they were added to in later centuries, and much of the walls of the nave and some of the chancel date from this period too. Considerable re-development occurred in the thirteenth century, particularly an extension of the chancel and the building of the Lady Chapel. See Malcolm Thurlby, 'The Romanesque Cathedral circa 1114-1200', in Exeter Cathedral, ed. Michael Swanton (Exeter: Dean and Chapter of Exeter, 1991), pp. 37-44; Audrey Erskine, The Accounts of the Fabric of Exeter Cathedral, 1279-1353 (Torquay: Devon and Cornwall Record Society, 1983), p. xxv.
(37) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 18.
(38) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 18.
(39) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 18.
(40) Orme, Exeter Cathedral, p. 63.
(41) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 18.
(42) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 19.
(43) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 20.
(44) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 19.
(45) The Builder's Magazine, 2 March 1777, text with plate cxvi.
(46) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 20.
(47) Cf. John Britton, The History and Antiquities of the Cathedral Church of Exeter (London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Taylor, 1826). Britton makes no mention of this device in his description of Exeter Cathedral, published less than thirty years later, and it is possible the device was removed soon after Carter had drawn it. Personal correspondence with Mr John Allan, archaeologist for Exeter Cathedral, confirms that the device is no longer present in the Cathedral. Allan suggests that the device may have been a winch used for removing a portion of the wooden vaulting, to allow for the bell to have been raised into position in the tower.
(48) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 21.
(49) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 21.
(50) Orme, Exeter Cathedral, p. 51.
(51) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 21.
(52) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 21.
(53) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 22.
(54) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 22.
(55) Henri Focillon, 'L'architecture gothique: "un raisonnement experimental"', in 1180-1328: L'Age d'or Capetien, ed. Jean-Christophe Cassard (Paris: Belin, 2011), pp. 336-50.
(56) J. M. Frew, 'Gothic is English: John Carter and the Revival of the Gothic as England's National Style', Art Bulletin, 64 (1982), 315-19 (p. 318).
(57) Augustus Pugin, Specimens of Gothic Architecture; Selected from Various Ancient Edifices in England (London: M. A. Nattali, 1825), p. x.
(58) Carter, Exeter Cathedral, p. 22.
(59) Smiles, 'Data, Documentation and Display', p. 513.
(60) Crook, Mind of the Gothic Revival, p. 4; Sweet, Antiquaries, p. 261.
(61) John Carter's publications in The Gentleman's Magazine are listed in Crook, Mind of the Gothic Revival, pp. 80-89. This list is emended in Bernard Nurse and J. Mordaunt Crook, 'John Carter, FSA (1748-1817): "The Ingenious and very Accurate Draughtsman"', Antiquaries Journal, 91 (2011), 211-52 (p. 247).
(62) London, King's College, London Archives, GB0100 KCLKA Leathes.
(63) The Builder's Magazine: or Monthly Companion for Architects, Carpenters, Masons, Bricklayers, etc. as well as for Every Gentleman who would wish to be a competent Judge of the elegant and necessary Art of Building (London: 1774-78; 1779; 1788; 1800).
(64) John Carter, Specimens of the Ancient Sculpture and painting, now remaining in this kingdom, from the earliest period to the reign of Henry VIII, 2 vols (London: Edward Jeffrey and Sons, 1780-86; 1787-94).
(65) Carter, Specimens, I, title page.
(66) John Carter, Views of Ancient Buildings in England, 6 vols (London: John Carter, 1786-93).
(67) John Carter, The Architecture of England, 2 vols (London: John Carter, 1795-1814).
(68) Sweet, Antiquaries, p. 304.
(69) Francis Grose, The Antiquities of England and Wales, 8 vols (London: S. Hooper, 1772-87).
(70) Lucy Peltz, 'Basire, Isaac (1704-1768)', ODNB.
(71) Nurse and Crook, 'John Carter, FSA', p. 212.
(72) Carter s articles in The Gentleman's Magazine date from 'Damage by a late Storm in St Alban's Abbey', 67.2 (1797), 927-28, to 'The Monument of Dagobert', 87.2 (1817), 199.
(73) John Carter (An Architect), 'The Pursuits of Architectural Innovation XX', The Gentleman's Magazine, 70.1 (1800), 129-31 (p. 130).
(74) A Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries [John Carter], 'St Stephens Chapel', The Gentleman's Magazine, 70.2 (1800), 734-35.
(75) John Carter, 'St Stephen s Chapel', The Gentleman's Magazine, 70.2 (1800), 736-37.
(76) Rosemary Sweet, 'The Incorporated Society and its Public Role', in Visions of Antiquity: The Society of Antiquaries of London 1707-2007', ed. Susan Pearce (London: Society of Antiquaries, 2007), pp. 75-97 (pp. 88-90).
(77) Nurse and Crook, 'John Carter, FSA', pp. 236-37.
(78) Frew, 'Gothic is English', p. 317.
(79) John Carter, The Ancient Architecture of England, 2 vols (London: John Carter, 1805), I, 64.
(80) John Carter, 'Pursuits of Architectural Innovation IV', The Gentleman's Magazine, 68.2 (1798), 1026-27 (p. 1027).
(81) John Carter, 'Pursuits of Architectural Innovation XXVII', The Gentleman's Magazine, 70.2 (1800), 837-40 (p. 838).
(82) Crook, Mind of the Gothic Revival, p. 62.
(83) J. C. Buckler, The Gentleman's Magazine, 87 (1818), 366-68 (p. 368).
(84) John Britton, The Architectural Antiquities of Great Britain, 9 vols (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Taylor, 1805-14), I, 16, 31, 36, 50.
(85) Britton, I, 31.
(86) J. Taylor, Essays on Gothic Architecture (London: J. Taylor, 1800), p. 2.
(87) John Henry Parker, On the English Origin of Gothic Architecture (London: J. B. Nichols and Sons, 1870), pp. 1-2.
(88) A. W Pugin, The True Principles of Pointed or Christian Architecture (Edinburgh: John Grant, 1853), pp. 1-2.
(89) A. W. Pugin, An Apology for Christian Architecture (Edinburgh: John Grant, 1843), p. 6.
(90) John Kendall, Elucidation of the Principles of English Architecture Usually Denominated Gothic (London: Henry G. Bohn, 1818), p. 7.
(91) John Milner, A Treatise on the Ecclesiastical Architecture of England during the Middle Ages (London: J. Milner, 1811), pp. XVIII-XIX.
(92) John Britton, The Beauties of England and Wales, 27 vols (London: J. Harris, Longman, J. Walker, R. Baldwin, Sherwood, J. and J. Cundee, B. and R. Crosby, J. Cuthell, J. and J. Richardson, Cadell and Davies, C. and J. Rivington, G. Cowie, 1813), vi, 233.
(93) Joseph Nightingale, The Beauties of England and Wales, 27 vols (London: J. Harris, Longman, J. Walker, R. Baldwin, Sherwood, J. and J. Cundee, B. and R. Crosby, J. Cuthell, J. and J. Richardson, Cadell and Davies, C. and J. Rivington, G. Cowie, 1818), xv, 243.
(94) James Norris Brewer, Introduction to the Original Delineations, Topographical, Historical, and Descriptive Beauties of England and Wales, 27 vols (London: Longman, 1818), xviii, 446.
(95) J. and H. S. Storer, An Elucidation of the Principles of English Architecture (London: Sherwood, Gilbert, Piper, 1831), p. 7.
(96) M. E. Roberts, 'John Carter at St. Stephen's Chapel: A Romantic Turns Archaeologist', in England and the Fourteenth Century, ed. W M. Ormrod (Woodbridge: Boydell and Brewer, 1986), pp. 202-12 (pp. 202-04).
(97) Scott D. Westrem, The Hereford Map (Turnhout: Brepols, 2001), p. xix.
(98) Sweet, Antiquaries, p. xvi.
(99) J. Mordaunt Crook, 'Carter, John (1748-1817)', ODNB.
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|Title Annotation:||Part III: Colonial Reception and Interpretation|
|Author:||Marshall, Simone Celine|
|Date:||Jul 1, 2015|
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